Read The Highlander's Sin for Free Online

occasions when she had visited her aunt and cousin Daniel at Blair Castle. She recognized the pattern of boulders that had been carved with various depictions of wildcat fights—some with each other, some with men, some with stags—hence the name, Wildcat Road.
    Their pursuer had yet to make himself noticed , and Heather prayed he never did. This was her chance to catch a dream that manifested years ago, and only a few months ago had presented itself as viable a few months ago.
    From what she’d overheard when Magnus spoke to his wife , Arbella, Robert the Bruce had betrayed Wallace at the Battle of Falkirk—and ever since, Wallace had lost his drive to fight, though last year he’d deployed to Europe to entreat France and Rome in gaining support for Scotland. There appeared to be some spark left in him after all. Magnus had spoken of Wallace returning to Scotland just last month, saying he was holed up in his home in Elderslie near Glasgow. Magnus and Arbella planned to visit Wallace on their way to Lorna’s house in the fall for All Hallows Day. Heather was to attend in order to help their many children. She loved her nieces and nephews dearly, but watching them run around like chickens with their heads cut off, covered in muck like little piglets and yanking on her like puppies was not the way Heather envisioned herself spending the evening. She’d much rather enjoy the bonfires, delicious food and wine—and the dancing. Waiting several months before speaking to Wallace would be torture. She didn’t have the patience for it.
    Priest slowed the horse as they rounded a crag jutting with sharp-edged stones. He leaned to the left as they rounded right, pulling her along with him. Good God, she prayed she didn’t fall from the horse. The fall would likely kill her. Blade was at least twenty hands high. The tallest she’d seen. Even more so than any of her brothers’ horses. Apparently, stealing maidens was a lucrative business.
    When they were again righted, her bladder screamed to be let down.
    “Are we still being followed?” she asked, praying he said nay. “I may…um…make a mess of your horse.” She squirmed for added measure.
    The man grunted and sped the horse faster over the road, before at last stopping by a copse of barren trees apart from the forest. He jumped off the horse and tugged her down.
    “Go. There.” He pointed to one of the trees.
    A sad excuse for foliage. The slim trunk would barely hide one side of her bottom.
    “There is not enough coverage,” she said.
    “If ye piss on my robes, I’ll beat ye within an inch of your life.” He whirled his back on her.
    An excellent opportunity to run. As if suspecting she might think that , he whipped back around, his billowing priest’s robes like a cloud of black smoke.
    “Dinna think of running. I’m sure your brother follows at a distance. He wouldn ’t want to be without his precious youngest sister.”
    Heather couldn’t help herself. She stuck out her tongue at the man and then turned on her heel, marching straight for the trees. She wasn’t brave enough to yank her skirts up , though, without first looking to see if the priest had turned around.
    Thank goodness he had. S he fairly danced with the need to relieve herself. Hiking up her skirts, she squatted and did her business. Either the man had a sixth sense or eyes in the back of his head, for when she was finished, skirts properly in place, he turned back toward her.
    “Will ye toss me my satchel? There’s water inside , and I’d like to wash my hands.” An odd request, she knew, but necessary all the same. Living in a house full of males made her appreciate all the more being clean.
    The priest gave her an odd look but did dig through her satchel for the waterskin. He handed it to her. But her hands shook, nerves getting the best of her. The waterskin slipped from her hands, splashing all over the ground.
    “Careful,” Priest said softly.
    Heather glared up at him,