Journey to the Highlands: Robbie and Caralyn (Clan Grant Series Book 4) by Keira Montclair

They aren’t the enemy. Their mission is to transport you to the priory. Please be agreeable.”
    Gwyneth lifted her head into the light so she could survey the group. Robbie decided she had been a beautiful woman before she’d encountered the Norse, though it was hard to tell between the bruises.
    She hoisted herself up tall enough to almost look Logan eye to eye. Logan was still a mite bit above her, but she was close. Long legs supported her and she clutched a small plaid to her torso.
    She cocked her head at Robbie. “Take me back to Glasgow and I will be eternally grateful, but I won’t go to the priory. Fair warning for any of you, if you try to touch me, I’ll stick a knife between your ribs when your head is turned.”
    Father MacLaren said, “Gwyneth, these are the men who fight for the Scottish crown. They aren’t here to hurt you.”
    “Your pardon, Father. Other than you, all men are the same. Get me to Glasgow and you’ll never have to see me again. Just give me my bow and arrows and my knife, and I will leave a happy lass. And don’t try to tell me they aren’t here, because I know the rotten bastard intended to sell my weapons, too.”
    Logan checked the woman over from head to toe, smiling when her gaze caught his.
    “Do that again, and ‘twill be the last thing you do, warrior or not.” She leaned in so she was nose to nose with Logan. “You don’t frighten me. I could kill you easily.”
    Logan locked gazes with her, his smile gone now. “I have nae doubt you could, lass. I’ll keep my hands to myself until you request otherwise.”
    The two stared at each other for a long pause, Gwyneth in a snarl, but Logan unrelenting. The air bristled with tension, though Robbie wasn’t quite sure what type of tension it was. Had his impulsive, daredevil brother-in-law just met his match? Finally, Father MacLaren cleared his throat and said, “Come, lass, I will give you your things as long as you promise not to use any of your weapons on these men.”
    Gwyneth limped along behind the priest. “As long as no one touches me, you have my word, Father. If any man dares to lay a hand on me, believe me, his life will be in my hands.” When she made this last statement, she turned to give a pointed look to Logan, who had yet to remove his gaze from her.
    ***
    Caralyn’s hands trembled as she awaited the arrival of the abbess. She had been unable to come last night, but this morning, as soon as Malcolm left, she had made her way over to the priory. Malcolm had given permission for her to go to two places only, either the Kirk or the priory, supposedly to pray with the nuns. He sent two escorts with her each time she left the keep to make sure she went nowhere else. Fortunately, the priory wasn’t far from Malcolm’s by horseback and the men were only too pleased to stand watch from the outside of the building.
    Once at the priory, Caralyn had volunteered to contribute her help to the priory in some way. Mother Mary had led her down a dark staircase to the basement. After leading her through a maze of corridors, Mother Mary stopped outside a doorway and turned to speak to her. “My dear, I know your life has been difficult. I could ask you toil in the vegetable gardens or in the kitchen peeling potatoes, but my instinct tells me you can better serve our God down here. This is where our healers do their work, and what they do varies depending on the needs of the town. Not long ago, we treated men who had been hurt at the Battle of Largs. Now, we have the need to treat those who have been hurt by the war in a different way.
    “Father MacLaren sent me a message yesterday informing me of a group of women who had been beaten and brutalized by a ship full of Norsemen. These women were on a ship when the Norsemen took control of it. They used the women as they saw fit and sent the longboat drifting out to sea. The ship was recovered by the Scottish crown and brought to shore south of Ayr.
    “The females are