Free Quinn: A Scottish Outlaw (Highland Outlaws Book 2) by Lily Baldwin Page B

Rupert asked, looking over the dogs.
    “Aye, Sir Rupert,” Jasper answered.
    Rupert stiffened and narrowed his eyes. “I am your lord now. Just as you are master over these mutts so too am I master over you.”
    “Forgive me, my lord,” Jasper said.
    Although Jasper spoke words of repentance, Rupert did not feel satisfied. There was an arrogance in the dog handler’s bearing most unfitting a serf. But then again, if his animals proved worthy, Rupert might be more forgiving. The dogs sat, alert but quiet, at Jasper’s feet. “They appear docile,” Rupert said, gesturing to the hounds. “I want animals trained to attack as well as track.”
    Jasper reached down and scratched one of the hounds behind the ear. “This is Molly. She follows my command. The others follow her. If I command Molly to attack, ye can be sure she will.”
    Rupert looked down at Molly. She was a black and tan with brown eyes, droopy jowls, and long ears. “What is the command to attack?” Rupert asked.
    Jasper gathered the leashes, shortening their length before he said, “Finish it.”
    “Finish it,” Rupert whispered to himself. Then he reached down to pet Molly, but she snarled and bared her teeth at him.
    Rupert smiled. “Yes, I think they will do nicely.” Then he looked Jasper hard in the eye. “Do not disappoint me,” he said, before turning on his heel and returning to the high dais. His eyes settled on Stephen. He shook his head and looked out across the hall to his men. “Look at how my poor brother mourns Henry’s passing. Will we allow his murderers to go free?”
    The men pounded their fists on the table, calling for action.
    “Will you stand with me, brother?” Rupert said for Stephen’s ears alone. But Stephen’s eyes remained downcast. “For Henry,” Rupert insisted.
    Stephen sat back in his chair. His face was drawn, his eyes red. “Do you swear upon all the sacraments that you speak naught but truth?”
    Rupert clamped his hand on Stephen’s shoulder. “You know I do.”
    Stephen slowly stood. “Then I have no choice but to stand with you.”
    Rupert’s confidence grew. He grabbed Stephen’s arms. “Thank ye, brother, for that is what we are, and nothing is more important than brotherhood.”

Chapter Eleven
    Quinn and Catarina came to the edge of a large field. New shoots of wheat strained to touch the darkening sky.
    “’Tis the gloaming hour,” Quinn said. “But not to worry, my lady. You will sleep under a roof this night.” He pointed to a neat line of cottages on the other side of the field. “There lies Rùnach. Home to dear and trusted friends.” He grabbed her elbow and pulled her through the field. “Mind the new plants,” he said.
    Two days ago, Catarina would have turned her nose up at the sight of such poor accommodations. But having spent the previous night fleeing for her life through narrow tunnels and spiny forests and, in the light of day, gleaning little sleep on the hard forest floor, her heart lightened as she watched smoke curl up from the thatched rooftops. She could not have imagined a more welcoming sight. And most importantly, a warm place for James to rest and some much needed milk.
    Lightning slashed the darkening sky. A shift in the air cooled her face as ominous clouds gathered overhead.
    Quinn fanned out his cloak, shielding Catarina and James the instant before the first, big drops fell. “Quickly,” he said, taking her elbow and jogged her toward the cottage on the far left. He rapped on the door and swung it wide, not waiting for an answer.
    Catarina glimpsed an open room with a warm fire in the center and several people sitting at a table in one corner. The sight of strange faces drove her to hide behind Quinn who startled her when he threw his head back and whooped.
    Quinn could not have been more surprised or happy to see two of his younger brothers, Rory and Alec, sitting at the table.
    “Quinn!” Rory beamed, jumping to his feet and hastening to the open