Free The Trouble with Highlanders by Mary Wine Page A

was because he’d raided one of Sutherland’s vassals. Norris was going to do it because the piece of filth had struck his woman.
    And he was going to enjoy it.
    ***
    Her dreams were powerful.
    Daphne twisted and cried out when she moved, because her body ached so viciously. She wanted to wake up, but sleep held her down like a thick comforter, one that was heavy and confining. She struggled to push it aside, knowing she wanted to wake up but unable to escape her dream.
    The dream swirled around her again, changing back to something pleasant. Norris was there, stalking her across her bed, and she smiled. Happiness filled her, and she giggled as he sent her that cocky grin she had never told him she enjoyed so much. She turned, and he pounced. The bed shook as they tussled like lovers. He won the day, turning her over with little resistance until she looked up into his face.
    Instead of green eyes, she stared into the hard black ones of Morrell Comyn. He licked his lower lip and laughed at her. She tried to scream, but her throat was silent no matter how hard she strained to send a cry past her lips. Pain began to burn along her back, increasing as Morrell licked his lip again.
    I promise to ride ye half a dozen times before dawn.
    â€œI will nae swear!”
    She broke through the hold of the dream. It took every bit of strength she had, and she tumbled right over the edge of her bed, catapulted by the strength she used to escape the clutches of the nightmare. She fell to the floor in a tangle of bedding as the door to her chamber was pushed inward. A rush of cold air came up the stairwell, but that wasn’t what made her grab the bedding back, it was the sight of one of Norris’s retainers peering at her. And the fact that she wasn’t wearing a stitch.
    â€œI was… having a nightmare,” she muttered, not sure why the man was lingering outside her door. She looked up at the bed. Norris wasn’t there, but the retainer was very real when she turned her attention back to the door. She gathered up the bedding to cover herself and stood.
    He reached for the door handle, offered her a nod, and pulled it closed. She sighed with relief, but it didn’t last long, because her long mirror showed her a reflection that was startling. She let the bedding go and crossed the chamber to get a closer look at herself. There was a huge black bruise along the right side of her jaw and another purple one covering her left cheek. She reached up to gently probe it, wincing as pain erupted from even that gentle contact.
    That wasn’t the extent of her injuries. There was something brown in her hair, and she turned her head to see a spot of dried blood on the back of her head. She flinched when she touched it, surprised by the neat row of stitches.
    â€œYer back is worse.”
    She spun around and gasped when the movement sent pain stabbing through her.
    â€œDo nae bite yer lip. Ye have enough broken skin.”
    Norris looked more formal than she’d ever seen him. His kilt was newly washed and pressed, something a more common man would never waste time on. His boots were clean, not a hint of mud on them, and they were crafted of black leather, proving again that he had coin to spare. But his doublet was made of wool, showing him to be a man of action, not useless finery. The only opulent item on him was a broach holding the feathers to the side of his bonnet. It was made of gold, with two hawks and a polished ruby the size of her thumb.
    â€œYer brother has arrived,” he offered in explanation of his formality.
    â€œOh. I should dress.”
    He stepped closer and inspected her jaw. “I doubt ye can tolerate a dress against yer back.”
    â€œOf course I can. It is nae so terrible.”
    His eyes narrowed, and he folded his arms across his chest. “Is it no’? Why do nae ye have a look?”
    He obviously intended to stand there while she bared herself. Of course he’d