The Highlander's Thief

Chapter Thirteen

"Ye! Ye did this to us!"

Rosa stumbled out of arm's reach. The Scotsman lunging towards her was completely mad. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, Goodman," she said as politely as she could manage under the circumstances, trying to add a dash of calm back into the situation. If McWilliam had taught her anything it was not to provoke an angry man.

The other women had all backed away, leaving Rosa and the crazed Scot in the middle of abandoned stools and looms. Sweet heaven. Thank you for nothing.

"Ye murdered Murray," he shouted again, lurching closer.

He wasn't as tall nor as big as McWilliam, but like practically everyone in this village he'd have no trouble overpowering her. This close she could see the red veins in his blue eyes, his flushed cheeks and fist clenched so tight his knuckles were white.

She raised her hands before her face. "I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't do anything."

But, wait. Hadn't McWilliam said something about a Scotsman being killed during the robbery and another gravely injured? This must be him, the one who claimed to have seen a woman with the same half-circle birthmark as Rosa at the docks when the money was stolen.

"I know what you think," she said, backing up with each word, "but I didn't do it. I wasn't even in London at the time of the theft. Someone set me up."

"Lies!" He swung his fist towards her face.

Rosa ducked, and the power behind the swing overbalanced him. Her attacker stumbled.

"That is enough, Rodd!" McWilliam stepped between Rosa and Rodd.

"How can you say that?" Rodd spat. "She killed Murray."

Rosa stepped around the laird before he could say anything. As terrible as losing an arm must be, she hadn't stolen anything, and she certainly hadn't killed anyone.

It was one thing to admit to a crime she hadn't committed to save Amelia, it was completely different when faced with a bloodthirsty Scotsman. She was not going to be intimidated by him. She'd spent the last two years disciplining three arrogant boys, Rodd wasn't going to get the better of her. End of story.

Besides, she didn't trust McWilliam to defend her innocence, not when he, too, still thought she was guilty.

"I'm innocent," she said in her most righteous governess voice. "Goodman Rodd, you will not touch me, and you will not accuse me of a crime I did not commit."

"Like hell ye're innocent. I saw ye." He gestured towards Rosa's neck where she imagined her birthmark was visible above the neckline of her bodice.

"A birthmark can be easily forged with a little creative thinking. I was set up. Someone wants me to take the blame for their crime."

"Ha!" He let out a great bark of disbelief. "Where's your proof?"

"Do you really think I'd be here if I had 3,000 pounds? I'd have been on the first ship to the New World in a second." She clicked her fingers, trying to drive her point home.

Rodd didn't slow. He threw another fist towards Rosa.

Despite her best efforts, a squeal escaped her mouth, and even as she darted out of the way she knew it would be too late.

Thwack.

Rosa blinked. She hadn't been hit.

McWilliam once again stood between her and Rodd, the other man's fist imbedded in his stomach. McWilliam didn't even wince. He stared down at Rodd with such darkness, Rodd swallowed.