Conall: The 93rd Highlanders, Book Two by Samantha Kane Page A

it around his waist. “What is it?”
he asked in a harsh whisper.
    “ Captain
Hamish Fletcher sent me for you.” The speaker was unfamiliar, a
thick burr in his voice. “He says to come to Mrs. Scott’s tent
right away, and bring his brother. He said you’d know where to find
him.”
    “ Aye, I know
where,” Graeme said, glancing over at Conall, who was peering over
the bed, no longer afraid the man would come in. “Why? What’s
happened?”
    “ Some men
tried to break into her hut,” the man said. “You better hurry.
Fletcher can only hold them off for so long. I want no part of it,”
he whispered harshly. “I’ve only come to get you as a favor I owed
him.” They heard the sound of booted feet hurrying away.
    Conall wasted no time
grabbing his kilt off the floor and wrapping it around himself. He
searched in the dark for his jacket. The first one he grabbed was
Graeme’s, and he threw it at him. “Hurry up,” he whispered
harshly.
    Graeme threw his clothes
on almost as fast as Conall. Neither man bothered with a full mess,
just kilt and jacket, boots and weapons. They were out the door in
minutes, racing across the cold ground.
    When they arrived they
found Ham facing off with three men who looked the worse for wear.
Ham looked like he’d taken a lick or two himself as well. “Now,
lads,” he was saying, “this isn’t a good idea. Not only can I lick
you all, but I can have you in the brig tomorrow as I outrank you
all.”
    “ It’s you
officers keeping all the cunt for yourself that has us here,”
snarled one of the men, wiping the blood from his lip. “Freezing
our arses off in the trenches, starving us and waving your whores
in our faces. It’s about time you shared the bounty with
us.”
    “ You’d better
get your freezing arses out of here,” barked Graeme, “or we’ll be
helping Captain Fletcher pound you into the cold ground, and there
might not be enough left of you to throw in the brig after I’m
done.”
    The three men spun around
to see Graeme and Conall striding toward Ham to face off with them.
“Damn you bloody officers to hell,” one of them said before he spit
on the ground. “We’re good enough to take a bullet for you, but not
good enough to fuck your whores, is that it?”
    “ That’s it,”
said Conall. “I’ll kill the next man that calls her a whore and I
don’t care what the consequences are. If I kill you all, then
they’ll believe whatever story we tell them.”
    All the men eyed Conall
warily. “Fine,” the first one said with false bravado. “We’ll go.
But you can’t watch her forever, can you? And who knows?” he said
slyly with a leer. “She might welcome a real man between her thighs
once you give her the opportunity.” He laughed with his friends as
they wandered off into the dark.
    “ Are you all
right?” Conall asked Ham as he hurried over to the door of the hut
where Ham now leaned against the wood. He grabbed Ham’s chin and
turned his face to the side so he could inspect the damage. “Ach,”
he said, “I’ve seen worse on you, that’s for sure. Put it there
myself.”
    Ham knocked his hand
away. “True enough. You didn’t hear me crying, did you?” He walked
over and picked up his hat from where it must have gotten knocked
off. After dusting it off on his leg he put it on. “Nice of you
both to finally show up. Were you so far up each other’s asses that
you couldn’t make it here faster?”
    Conall blushed and pursed
his lips in anger, looking around to make sure no one heard.
Graeme’s face looked carved in stone and completely unreadable.
“No, we weren’t,” Conall said through gritted teeth. “It is the
middle of the night. We had to get dressed.” He glanced at the
door. “Is Avril inside?”
    “ Yes,” he
heard her answer through the door. “Are they gone?”
    “ Yes,” Conall
said, stepping up and speaking close to the door. “Are you all
right?”
    “ Yes,” she
said and then sniffed, as though