He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Ye be a sight for sore eyes, lass,” he told her. “But we’ve no’ much time.”
He handed her up to Marcum, who placed her on his lap and wrapped his arms around her.
“Nay!” she pleaded, her mind dizzy with fear, relief, terror. “I want Albert!”
Marcum started to pat her hands comfortingly when he realized her wrists were bound. He removed his dirk and began to carefully cut away the leather straps.
“Where do ye hurt, lass?” he asked.
Laurin gave a rapid shake of her head. “Everywhere, but I do no’ think anythin’ is broken,” she told him through chattering teeth.
Making certain she’d not fall, he removed his cloak and draped it around her shoulders.
“Where is Albert?” she implored as she searched for him. “I want Albert!”
“Och, lass, Albert be a wee bit busy at the moment,” he explained. “He has a few men to kill.

Suzan Tisdale