My Highlander Laird

Chapter Two-The Highlander Laird

Alana felt tremors wracking through her body. She felt her breath hitch. The Highlander had the deepest voice she'd ever heard. It was a throaty baritone.

"Who urr ye?" whispered Alana, her hands fisting the skirts of her gown. Alistair's watchful eyes glided to her dress, soiled and dirty. The lassie was travelling, he thought.
The gown on her was a green brocade with sleeves that flarred to her dainty wrists. The cloth was one only worn by the privileged, judging by the little intricate gold details on the silk.
She looked at him demurely, entranced by his powerful physique.

And that sweet little voice, he thought, he could make her scream and turn that innocent voice into a needy one. His blood rushed to his groin and he shifted.

"I should ask ye th' same, what urr ye daein' on mah lands?"

Alana's breath left her lips in a whoosh . His lands? Was he the Laird here?
She would have made a modest curtsy had the sword not be at her neck, toying with her life.

"Urr ye-"

"Alana?! Alana! Where urr ye?!" They both heard in the distance.

Alana, he tested her name on his lips, pleased beyond limits at how it fitted the bonny lassie.
They did not move. Alistair thought if she had people with her. Was her lowland clan with her? Were they here to talk to his Da?
"Alanaaa, shaw yersel'," the voice pleaded.
(Show yourself)

Ailith must be dead worried, Lana thought. Yet she couldn't muster the courage to yell and say she was here infront of this Highlander, possibly Laird.

"Where urr y-" the screaming edged closer until a head poked out from the trees, revealing Ailith, her hair messy with her tresses undone. When she took in the scene infront of her, red rage clouded her vision and she ran to her sister like a furious spitfire. Her hand hovered the hilt and with a sharp pull, unleashed her sword and stormed infront of them. She clanged her sword against Alistair's and pushed Alana behind her, switching on her protective stance.

Alana stumbled but caught herself before falling on her buttocks. She touched her neck gingerly, soothed that the weapon was no longer pointed at her.

"Did that bas(bastard) touched ye Alana? Tell me now ah will slaughter him,?" She roared.
"Ai-Ailith ye-"
Lilly craned her neck to look at her, misjudging her touching her throat as being harmed.

She gave a battle cry and clashed her sword against the man's sword infront of her. She seethed and watched as he looked at her amusedly. How they judged her, men.

She lifted her foot to slam it on his kneecap when Alana screamed at her and pulled her by the arm.

"He meant me na harm! He thought ah was a threat. We urr oan his lands for God's sake. We urr nae at war wi' every being Ailith!"

Lilly staggered back, flushing against Lana.
God gracious, the Laird!

She mumbled something and dropped into a curtsy, her sister following.

Alistair hid a smile. Ailith had the same eyes of the lassie to whom he took a special liking. But her vixen, had hair like burning embers. Ailith had golden locks.

"Whit brings ye 'ere lassies? Are there more wi' you?" He asked, putting his sword back.

"Nae, we're alone," replied Lilly in a sombre voice. She sounded defensive.

"Our clan-" Lana started but was immediately cut off by Lilly who had a panicky look on her face for a mere second.
"Our clan hud th' misfortune o' bein' raided. We ur th' only ones alive. Mah sister 'n' ah escaped tae seek refuge elsewhere,"