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To Marry a Scottish Laird by Lynsay Sands Read Online (FREE)

To Marry a Scottish Laird Read Online

Read To Marry a Scottish Laird (Highland Brides, #2) by Lynsay Sands full novel online for free here

Chapter 1

CAM HEARD THE TROUBLE ON THE TRAIL AHEAD before he saw it. The screams made him instinctively slow his horse as he rounded the bend, but when he saw a young boy being held by the scruff of his shirt and beaten by a big bull of a man, Cam reached for his sword and spurred his horse to move faster. A heartbeat later he’d reached the pair.

The thud of his boots hitting the ground made the assailant glance around, just in time to see Cam’s sword hilt before it slammed into the big oaf’s head. The fellow went down like a stone, unfortunately falling on the boy and landing with enough weight to bring a grunt of pain from the almost senseless lad.

Wincing in sympathy, Campbell used his booted foot to roll the villain off the boy. The moment the man’s weight was removed, the lad opened his swollen and blackening eyes and squinted up uncertainly.

“Ye’re safe,” Cam said and bent to offer him a hand up.

Instead of taking it, though, the lad glanced past him, swollen eyes widening slightly with horror. Cam instinctively started to straighten, but a blow to his lower back made him stagger. He managed to avoid trampling the lad and regained his footing after a couple of steps, then whirled to confront his assailant.

Assailants, Cam corrected himself grimly as he took note of the three men he now faced. They all had dirty faces and wore ragged clothes. None were as big as the man he’d knocked out, but they were not small either, and each had a different weapon. The bald man on the left held a club, the one with long dark hair on the right held a rusty old sword, and the ginger-haired one in the middle held a knife that was presently dripping with blood.

His blood, Cam realized even as he felt warm liquid begin to trickle down his lower back and leg. He hadn’t been punched in the back, he’d been stabbed. Mouth tightening, he raised his sword, pulled a small blade from his waist with his left hand and started forward, knowing he wouldn’t have long before the loss of blood weakened him. He had to take care of the men before that happened or he and the boy would no doubt be found dead here on the side of the road by the next traveler to come by.

Cam sent his knife flying at the man with the bloody blade first, waited just long enough to see it find a home in his chest, then swung his sword at the man on the right.

Despite his ragged clothes and filthy condition, the man handled his rusty old sword better than Cam would have expected. Or perhaps he was already weakening, and that—combined with the worry that he would be clubbed from behind by the third man at any moment—affected his abilities. Whatever the case, it took Cam half a dozen swings of his sword to finally fall his combatant.