Highland Flame (Highland Brides) (41 page)

"I guess her fairness be na the trouble," deduced Colin.

"Then mayhap she lacks intelligence," suggested Leith.

"Ye wish ta match wits with her, brother? Be me guest," Roderic fumed.

"It must be, then, that ye are ashamed of her manly ways. After all, she acts as if she be a laird. 'Tis ridiculous. No woman can lead men."

Roderic filled his nostrils with air and reminded himself not to swing at his brother. "There are those amongst the MacGowans who would give their lives just ta see her smile. Such is her leadership, though she knows it na."

Leith shrugged. "But her heritage
is
questionable."

"In her veins, there flows the blood of kings, our own and France's."

"But what have the MacGowans ta offer the Forbeses?" questioned Colin haughtily. "Their land is cursed with rocks and their puny livestock riddled with disease."

"The steeds of the MacGowans would make our own beasts look like stunted cattle in comparison."

"But they have na men ta ride them."

"They need na men," Roderic mused, remembering how she looked astride, how her flaming hair blew in the wind, how her eyes sparkled like newly mined jewels and her cheeks glowed with health and joy. "For with Flanna, the steeds sprout wings."

The silence was as heavy as sand, making Roderic realize he had said her name like a revered chant.

"Then Colin is right," Leith said. "Ye are scairt she will refuse yer hand."

"She would na!" Roderic exploded. "She would tek me if I but ask."

"Then ask."

Roderic's chest ached, and his hands were clenched
to grinding fists. Suddenly, it all seemed so simple, for
surely no woman could refuse him. He was Roderic the
Rogue, man of men. "Aye!" he growled, "that I will."

He was at the door in a moment. "Prepare a wedding
feast, Fiona."

"But, Roderic, think—" she began.

He slammed the door behind him and took the stairs three at a time.

"Flanna!" he yelled. The walls of the hall fairly shook with the force of his words. His chest swelled. 'Twas time he acted the part of a man. He had wooed her long enough and where had it gotten him? Weary and uncertain and aching with frustration. "Flanna!" he yelled again and yanked the infirmary door open.

The bed was empty. Beside it, Clarinda jerked to a seated position upon her cot, her eyes wide with sudden terror.

"Gawd's wrath!" Roderic bellowed.

Two brothers, a sister-in-law, and five servants stormed down the hall toward him.

"What is it?"

"Roderic?"

"What has happened!"

"She is flown!" he howled.

"Gone?"

"Where?"

"Merciful saints!"

"Hannah!" Leith yelled. "Find yer husband. Tell him the Lady MacGowan is missing. Search every nook until she be found. Julia, check Haydan's room! Roderic, for Gawd's sake, quit shaking Clarinda."

"Where did she go?" Roderic yelled into the terrified woman's face.

"I... I... I..."

"Where?"

"Was sl-sleeping," Clarinda stuttered.

"Gawd's wrath!" swore Roderic again and jumping to his feet, raced from the room.

The stable. She would not leave afoot, for mounted was her only hope of escape. Roderic thundered toward the horse sheds, but suddenly he remembered their night atop the battlements. She had seen the horses on the hillock beyond the burn. Would it not be like her to climb the wall and fetch one of those untamed mounts? Indecision made him halt.

No. She would not leave Great Heart behind. He knew it suddenly and raced for the stables. But just then a huge shadow caught his eye. It was near the gate and upon its back sat a rider.

Flame's hands shook. She had to escape before she lost everything, including herself. Roderic was coming to claim her for his own, like a bull might claim his mate. She had heard him plotting with his brothers, and she had neither the pride nor the will to stop him, not if she looked into his eyes, not if she felt his touch. Dear God, she must escape. She pulled the shawl more closely to her face. She was taller than Lady Fiona, but surely the guard could not tell that in the darkness.

"But m'lady," said the gate man, glancing fretfully about, "surely there be another that could check on Agnus's bairn."

Flame remembered to breathe and covered her mouth with the woolen to muffle her voice. "Please do not concern yourself on my account, William." His name was William, wasn't it? Or did they call him Willy or Walt or—"There is not a Forbes who would harm your Fiona Rose."

"Nay, there is na," agreed the guard. "But the accursed MacGowans most probably be chafing at their bits, and na woman is safe from those curs. 'Tis na right that ye travel alone at night. Might I na go with ye?"

"No. Please!" Flame stifled the urge to rail and look frantically behind her. Heart tossed his head. "I must hurry before—"

"Before what?"

The voice was Roderic's. Breath trapped in Flame's throat like water in a dam.

Great Heart turned to nicker a greeting.

"Were ye na even ta say good-bye, Flanna?" he asked.

"Flanna?" the gate man gasped.

"Stand back!" she warned.

"Flanna... MacGowan?" whispered the gate man weakly.

"Nay, I willna," said Roderic. "I have been standing back long enough. Now 'tis time I brought ye ta heel for yer own good!"

"To heel! My own good!" Flame laughed, but the sound was tight as she fought to remember her pride. "As though ye could judge what is good for me, Forbes."

"I can judge," he said, his voice deep in the darkness. "And I am good for ye. Ye will be me wife."

Happiness burgeoned within her breast. But in a moment, she snuffed it out. Pride! She must have pride. He could not demand her hand in marriage. Such arrogance! She could not allow such arrogance, for if he showed it now, it would only grow. He would set her aside as easily as he had demanded her. "I will not marry ye," she said, but her voice shook.

"Aye, ye will. And soon."

"Ye think ye can decide for me." Anger was finally building within her, brewing slowly but surely. "Ye think ye can closet yerself away with yer kinsmen and discuss my future as if I am of no more import than a ... than a fallow sow?"

"Ye were spying on me," he said incredulously. "Sneaking about Glen Creag like an irksome thief in the night and listening to my conversations."

"I am not my mother!" she cried. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and each shuddering breath hurt her throat. "Ye will not decide my life. Not ye or any man." Spinning Heart away, Flame raised her chin and threw back the shawl to glare at the gate man.

"Lower the bridge, William!" she ordered. "Or ye will feel the wrath of the MacGowans and all our allies."

Behind her, Roderic chuckled. "Dunna let her cow ye, Willy. Ye were right, the MacGowans be na more than spineless cur."

"Spineless cur?" she hissed, twisting back to glare at him.

"Aye," Roderic said. "All but one. And that one I will marry."

"Not for so long as I can draw breath!
"
she vowed.

"Wrong yet again," he countered. His teeth gleamed in the light of the single torch when he smiled. "We'll wed in a fortnight. Ye've precious little time, Flanna. Mayhap ye should—" he began, but he never finished, for in Flame's mind she saw a young girl crying within the stone walls of a silent abbey. She would not risk love only to be abandoned again.

Spinning the steed about, she spurred him straight for Roderic. The destrier's shoulder hit him square on, but instead of being plowed beneath the animal's pounding hooves, Roderic grasped handfuls of mane and hung on.

Flame gasped in outrage.

Roderic growled something indiscernible and swung a leg toward the horse's back.

"Nay!" Flame screamed and blocking his leg with her own, forced him back down. All the while the stallion plunged ahead. They were running parallel to the wall of the keep and only an arm's length away.

"Let go!" she screamed.

"When the angels sing in hell!" Roderic growled, trying to swing aboard again.

But already she had turned Heart toward the wall. He swung to the right. Flame yanked her leg from the stirrup just in time, and Roderic's shoulder hit the battlement with stunning force.

She heard his grunt of pain, saw one hand slip from the mane. But upon impact, Heart had veered left, allowing Roderic to grapple for a better hold. Suddenly, his foot was lodged behind the saddle.

"Get down!" she shrieked, but already he was aboard, nearly knocking her to the ground as he pulled the beast to a halt.

Heart snorted and reared. Flame tried to wrest the reins from Roderic's hands, but they were like iron on the leathers.

"Ye will marry me," Roderic said, his breath coming in great gasps against her ear.

"Never!"

"Ye will marry me," he whispered, "or ye will not see Haydan again."

The strength ebbed from Flame's body. Haydan! So that's why he had befriended the boy. And that's why he had brought him here. 'Twas not out of kindness, but to gain control of her, as others had controlled her in the past. Her hands trembled and she closed her eyes.

"Flanna?" His voice was soft suddenly, his face very close to hers. "'Tis sorry I—"

"Sorry!" she shrieked and swung her elbow with all her might. It hit his shoulder just where it had banged the wall.

Roderic's hands fell from the reins. He gasped in pain, but she had no mercy.

"Sorry!" she yelled, and twirling about on the saddle, bent her legs and thumped him full in the chest with both feet.

With a roar and a jolt, he toppled over the horse's rump, but at the last moment his hand whipped out and caught hold of her foot.

Shrieking and flailing, she was dragged after him. He yelled in outrage as he fell. Great Heart reared. Roderic's back hit the ground, and Flame, tossed from the fleeing stallion, landed with a grunt and a gasp with her bottom firmly atop Roderic's crotch.

The air left his lungs in a croak of deepest agony. But still Flame had no mercy.

Her identify bad been revealed to the gate man. Her horse was gone and with him her only hope of escape. But it was not too late to exact some revenge on the man who had turned her life upside down, who had torn the heart from her chest and thought to take her to wife in the same fortnight.

Lifting her hips from his, Flame scrambled forward to thump her weight onto his abdomen.

The air left Roderic's lungs yet again. He moaned in agony, but that was an instant before he felt the prick of her dirk against his jugular.

He lay very still, trying to draw an even breath and see through the red haze of pain.

"Ye are about to die, Forbes," she warned softly.

He managed to draw a rattling breath. "Did I na say I was sorry?"

"Ye bastard!" She screamed the word. Her voice shook. "Ye think to take my life from me and ye are sorry?"

His mouth opened slightly and he shuddered as though wracked with a pain only a man could understand. "Should I have said
truly
sorry?"

"Damn ye!
Damn
ye! Ye stole my heart and then crush it beneath your heel and all ye say is—"

In an instant Roderic had wrenched the dirk from her. With his hand upon the bare blade, he tossed it aside. "I asked ye ta marry me, woman! Never, not with all the women who wanted me, have I begged for one to become me wife."

"God damn ye, ye arrogant lout!" she gasped, and jolting to her feet, prepared to flee.

But in that moment she realized that a crowd surrounded them three-people deep. Jaws were lax and eyes wide. Flame skittered to a halt. But it was a mistake, for somehow Roderic had forced himself to his feet and grasped her arm in a hard grip.

She swung wildly toward him.

"Hit him again, Lady Flanna," someone called. The voice sounded like Colin's. "Just once more. 'Tis certain I am he deserves it."

Her mouth fell open. She turned her head to stare bemusedly at the people who should surely be incensed by her attack on one of their own.

"Gawd, we haven't had such a bloody fine row since Leith brought us his Fiona. Dunna stop now, Lady MacGowan."

Roderic cleared his throat. "It seems we have drawn a crowd, me lady."

She blinked, turning from his kinsmen to him.

"Roderic, I am ashamed of you," said Fiona, stepping from the crowd. "You know your Flanna shouldn't be exerting herself like that. What be you thinking?"

"'Tis truly sorry I am," Roderic said from a slightly bent position. "It seemed the lady needed a wee bit of…” He groaned in pain. "…exercise."

The crowd chuckled.

"You take her inside this instant," Fiona ordered. "And if she's torn that wound open you will answer ta me."

"Merciful Gawd," someone said. "Ye got the two of them mad at ye. Ye're in for it now, lad."

Roderic's gaze never strayed from Flame's face. She watched him breathlessly.

"What do ye say, Flanna? Shall we go inside and continue our... discussion?"

She swallowed hard and managed a nod. She would listen to what he had to say—and then she would leave.

Chapter 30

Roderic rubbed his shoulder. The castle was finally quiet and Clarinda had been sent from the infirmary. Or, more correctly, she had scurried from the room at the sight of Roderic's face.

He was angry. Flame could see the rage in his eyes, in his carriage, in the set of his mouth. And she was glad he was angry, for now she would see who he truly was. Now she would experience his dark side, and she could hate him.

"Why?" he demanded.

She sat perfectly straight upon her straw-filled tick, trying to ignore the wild pounding of her heart. She wouldn't let him see her fear. She was not Clarinda to be frightened away by one black scowl. And yet she wished she could hide beneath the bed as she had as a child during her father's rages.

"Why what?" Her tone was admirably flat, revealing only a small bit of her numbing fatigue.

Roderic gritted his teeth and paced again, but the room was small, causing him to turn in a moment. "Gawd's wrath," he swore on a tight exhalation. "Why did ye try ta leave?"