Free Margo Maguire by The Highlander's Desire Page A

Douglas fell asleep in Anna’s arms, and when they finally reached the castle keep and skirted ’round to the side gardens and beyond, Anna could see that Kyla was spent.
    “Only a few steps more,” Anna said, urging her friend forward across the overgrown cobbled path to the cottage. ’Twas tucked away far from the keep, so no one would hear Douglas if he cried during the night.
    Anna wanted to avoid Mungo Ramsay seeing them, and she didn’t want young Glenna to know she’d brought Kyla to the castle. She feared neither of them could keep Kyla’s whereabouts secret.
    She pushed open the door to the cottage and slipped inside. Fortunately, there was just enough light from the open window for them to see the bed beyond the stacked crates, on the other side of the fireplace. Kyla lay down, and Anna put Douglas beside her, then knelt to build a fire.
    “I put an extra blanket out for you, Ky.”
    “I cannot thank you enough for all you’ve done for me, Anna. But you know I must—”
    “Let’s not think about what you must do. Not now.”
    The fire flared to life, and Anna rested back on her heels. She thought of those early days after her mother’s death, when she’d been left to fend for herself.
    MacDuffie had been so drunk he hadn’t even noticed Anna’s absence, and there’d been no one but Gudrun to object when Catrìona had ejected Anna from the bedchamber she’d been given next to her mother’s.
    Back then, Kyla had been no more than an orphan herself, but she’d become Anna’s anchor in her time of grief. They’d quickly become as close as sisters. “Do you remember when my mother died?” Anna asked.
    Kyla nodded and brushed one of Douglas’s russet curls off his forehead. “We were alone, but for Gudrun. And she was grieving your mother, as well.” She lay quietly for a moment. “Anna, if anything should happen to me, I want you to promise—”
    “Naught will happen to you!” This was not the direction Anna had intended the conversation to go.
    “But you know it could. You and I lost both our parents at a young age,” Kyla said, laying her head down. “I just want the comfort of knowing you’ll see to Douglas if—”
    “You think Birk will allow it?” Anna retorted. She knew what Kyla wanted, and ’twas hardly realistic. “Just be sure to take no chances, Kyla. With anything.”
    ’Twas clear Kyla knew she should fear that Birk would one day kill her. The thought of it made Anna’s blood run cold, but she consoled herself with the knowledge that ’twould not happen tonight.
    Ah. So much for the madness of love. ’Twas a state that served no one well.
    Anna made sure Kyla was comfortable and Douglas sound asleep. “Go to sleep now, min kjære venn.”
    The Norse term Gudrun had taught them brought a cautious smile to Kyla’s injured mouth.
    “I’ll just run up to the kitchen and gather some supplies for us,” Anna added, rising to her feet. She tucked the extra blanket ’round her friend, for ’twas damp and still chilly in the cottage. “I’ll be back soon.”
    She left the cottage and closed the door tightly behind her. No one would find Kyla there. No one would even think of looking for her at the cottage. Except Flora, and she was no threat to anyone beyond trying to overfeed them.
    Anna walked through the dense brush toward the keep and turned ’round to make sure the smoke from the cottage’s chimney was not too thick. Reassuring herself ’twas hardly visible, she turned back—
    And crashed into something entirely unexpected.
    She whirled ’round.
    “Anna?” Lachann MacMillan stood directly in her path. He bowed slightly, and Anna pressed one hand to her breast as though it could slow her heart. “We seem to be meeting in odd places.”
    “What are you doing out here?” Anna blurted, careful not to turn ’round again or give any other clue about the cottage.
    “I could ask the same of you,” he said. He stood far too close for Anna’s peace of