"Hush. We can go no farther in the darkness." Brenna drew her sister down beside her.
"But do not fear. Even the English must rest."
"But what if this Highlander finds us in his fields?" Megan shivered.
"I cannot rid myself of the old fears of the Highlands."
"I know. But they are part of our family now. With Brice Campbell wed to Meredith, we have nothing to fear."
"Unless we are in the field of one who is foe to Brice."
That thought had already occurred to Brenna.
"Sleep," she whispered.
"I will keep watch."
As the moon slipped beneath a bank of clouds, Brenna strained to peer into the darkness. It was not the Highlanders she feared. Even those who were foe to her sister's husband. There was only one to be feared this night. The Englishman who would separate her from all that she loved.
The thrill of the hunt was invigorating to a soldier like Morgan. He awoke quickly, his mind sharp, his thoughts clearly focused on his goal. This day he would have his victory. He could already taste it.
He led his mount to the trail of prints made by a small, feminine boot.
The trail disappeared into a wooded glen. Before the first flicker of light touched the horizon, he and his men pulled themselves into the saddle.
"The men are hungry," his aide grumbled.
"As am I. But there will be time enough to satisfy our hunger when this task is behind us. We ride until we find the woman." He tossed his aide the dried meat that often accompanied the soldiers to battle.
"Chew on this until your hunger is abated."
The grim-faced soldiers fell into line behind their leader.
They rode for nearly an hour before coming upon a Highland woman busy milking her cows. When she saw the English standard, she began to race toward the small hut in the distance.
"We will not harm you," Morgan called.
Ignoring his words, the woman ran for her life.
"Stop her."
As his men urged their mounts forward, he added, "But take care that the woman is not harmed. She must be made to understand that we come in peace."
Though she bit and kicked and scratched at the hands holding her, his men did as they were bid and brought her to their leader. She stood before him, sullen and silent.
"We seek two young women from the lowlands." Morgan caught the woman by the chin and forced her to look at him.
"Did you see them?"
"I saw no one."
"And if you saw them, would you tell me?"
She shot him a look of defiance.
"I would not."
"I thought as much." He nodded toward the small pen where the cows waited patiently before being turned into pasture.
"Was there any sign of them in the animal shelter?"
The woman shook her head.
Morgan nodded toward his men.
"See to it."
After a thorough inspection, the men returned to confirm what the woman had said.
"There is no sign of them."
Morgan released his hold on the woman.
"Then we search elsewhere."
"But what of the woman?" one of his men cried.
"If you release her, we will have an entire Highland clan on our heels."
"Our fight is not with you," Morgan said sternly.
"Or with your people. When we find the women we seek, we will be gone.
Do you understand?"
She nodded.
As he pulled himself into the saddle, the woman spat at him, then turned and began to run for safety.
'"Twas a mistake to turn her loose," his aide muttered.
"At least until we find the ones we seek."
"It is a risk we must take. I wish to show the Highlanders that I do not come to do battle."
'"Twill prove our downfall."
"Perhaps." Morgan's eyes narrowed as he studied the hay on the far side of the pasture.
"Would women from the lowlands risk sleeping in the animal pen, so near their enemy?" He prodded his horse into a trot.