Highland Vow (8 page)

“Do ye believe she is simply ill used and ill fated?” Owen asked.

“I believe her to be a coldhearted, murderous woman who has buried four ill-fated husbands and toys with Cormac like some spoiled, vain child. I believe she could have kept the Douglases off his back ten years ago, but couldnae be troubled to do so or, mayhap, e’en set them there to protect herself.”

“Ah, so ye have met the woman then,” drawled Owen. He grinned when Elspeth giggled, but then he sighed. “I just thought, when we saw him with ye, a weelborn lass…” He stumbled to a halt and colored slightly when he realized he could not continue without saying something indelicate, perhaps even insulting.

“Cormac will explain why I am here, traveling alone with him. As for the rest, I pray ye will look kindly upon my sins. I intend to win him away from Isabel but have little time in which to do so. Virtue and maidenly modesty are not what will defeat that woman or break her grip. ’Tis a fierce battle I fight now and I pray ye will view my sins as but necessary tactics or weapons.” She waited a little tensely for their reaction to those words, breathing a healthy sigh of relief when they both slowly grinned.

“Clever lass,” murmured Owen. “Do ye think ye can win?”

“I think so, but ’tis hard to say,” replied Elspeth. “I have weakened her grip. Of that much I am sure. But she has held him for ten years or more. Her talons have sunk deep. The few weeks I have may not be enough to extract them.”

“If he doesnae choose you, m’lady, he deserves to be thrashed within an inch of his miserable life.”

“If he doesnae choose me, I give ye leave to do just that.”

Cormac frowned when he returned to find his friends laughing companionably with Elspeth. “A lad waits at the stairs to show ye to our room,” he told Elspeth. “Do ye think ye can fix the cat enough so that he will be able to fend for himself again?”

“Oh, aye, I can fix him,” she said, refusing to respond to his implication that she would have to let the cat go. “Shall I see ye both at the evening meal?” she asked Cormac’s two friends, and when they both nodded, she went to find her room.

“I think she means to keep that cat, Cormac,” Paul said, watching Elspeth follow a boy up the stairs.

“I think she does, too,” Cormac said, sighing with resignation.

“Just what is wrong with it?”

As Cormac nudged them toward a table and ordered them each an ale, he told them the whole story. Cormac relaxed a little because his friends were both amused and astonished by Elspeth’s actions. He knew just when the amiable conversation was going to turn serious, however, could see it in their expressions, but he could not think of a way to avoid it. As quickly as he could, he told them what had happened to Elspeth, the danger she was in, but he could see that it was not enough to divert them, either.

“Ye should marry that lass,” Owen said in his usual blunt manner. “Ye dishonor her otherwise.”

“I think ’twould take far more than I could ever do to tarnish Elspeth’s honor,” Cormac said carefully. “And I cannae marry her, though she would make a fine wife. I am not free.” He ignored their muttered curses, hardened to the disapproval of his friends and kinsmen. “I have made that verra clear to Elspeth, but she says it doesnae matter.”

“And ye believe her. Ye believe that a lady, who has held firm to her chastity for nearly twenty years, will then toss it all aside for the bonny smile of a mon chasing after another woman, just because of a simple lusting?”

“Nay,” Cormac admitted reluctantly, “though it took a wee while for that truth to sink in. I was a wee bit too muddled to think clearly. And I am nay really the villain here. True, I am weak, too weak to resist temptation, but I was sorely pressed. She may look a sweet angel, but she is a determined lass when she decides she wants something.” He flushed a little under the looks of amused scorn his friends sent him. “Tell me, if a lass like that freely offered herself to ye, making no demands and asking no promises, how long do ye think ye would hold out?”

“About one heartbeat,” said Owen and Paul nodded a firm agreement.

“Weel, to the reason why we have been looking for ye: to give ye a warning,” Paul said. “And now we ken why it is needed.”

“A warning about what?” asked Cormac.

“A certain Sir Colin is hard on your heels. He searches for ye and the lass. Claims ye stole her and she is his betrothed.”

“’Tis a lie. As I said, Elspeth refused to wed him and he kidnapped her to try to force her to it.”

Paul nodded. “We felt there had to be a good reason for ye to disappear with the lass.”

“I had hoped that we had shaken free of the mon, that he wouldnae be able to guess which way we went. Too many other choices for him to make.”

“He does complain vigorously about the ineptitude of his men and how long it took them to find your trail. But he is on it now, and ye and Elspeth are the sort most folk recall verra clearly.”

Cormac cursed, finished his ale, and called for another. “’Tis time to start running now, I suppose. Aye, and to take a winding trail. ’Twill cost me days, but fewer people will see us. That will make our trail less clear and, mayhap, slow him down.” He looked toward the stairs. “Elspeth will be disappointed. Surprised, too. I dinnae think she believes or understands how much the mon wants her.”

“Nay, I dinnae think she does,” murmured Owen, and Cormac had the distinct feeling that his friend was not referring to Sir Colin.

Elspeth stroked the cat as it greedily lapped up the cream she had fetched it. It had also quickly and efficiently cleaned a small plate of chicken scraps. Despite its size, it was obviously very hungry. She felt it deserved a fine treat, however, after allowing her to clean all the mud and blood off its thick gray fur and tend its wounds. Although it had hunched its shoulders in distaste, it had also allowed her to wipe it down with an herbal wash to rid it of fleas.

She was still not sure why she felt so compelled to keep the cat. It was not pretty, being big, broad faced, and well scarred, but she felt bonded to it in some odd way. The way the cat allowed her to do anything she chose to it made her wonder if it felt the same
or if it was just clever enough to know a soft heart when it saw one. Cormac was not going to be pleased.

“I shall call ye Muddy,” she said and giggled when the cat cast her a faintly disgruntled look as it finished the cream. “If ye have something ye prefer, ye best say so now. I didnae think so.”

Muddy began to wash his face.

“Now I must leave ye for a wee while,” she said as she rinsed out the shallow bowl that had held the cream and filled it with water. “There is your box of sand the maid so kindly fetched for ye. Ye need to heal ere ye can slip outside to do your business. Although once we are traveling again, ye will have no box of sand. I do hope ye like to travel.”

The cat walked over to the bed, jumped up, and settled itself comfortably at the foot of it.

“Enjoy that while ye can. Once Cormac and I slip beneath the covers it willnae be such a peaceful place to sleep for a while.” She patted the cat again, smiling at its thunderous purr, and then left to rejoin Cormac and his friends.

It was comforting to know that Cormac’s friends did not see Isabel in the same blind way Cormac did. Despite the fact that she was behaving shamelessly, both men were more than willing to overlook that if it got their friend out of Isabel’s grasp. Elspeth had to admire Cormac’s loyalty, the way he clung to his belief in Isabel when it was apparent no one else he knew liked or trusted the woman. She had a feeling, however, that a lot of that loyalty was now inspired by pure stubborness. The more others disapproved, the tighter he clung to his convictions. If she had a chance, she would try to advise his friends of her suspicions. Perhaps if the harsh criticism of Isabel lessened, Cormac would relax in his constant defense of her just enough to start seeing what others did.

As she approached the table where Cormac and his friends sat, they all turned to look at her. Something in their expressions sent a chill of alarm down her spine. They looked too grim and just a little uneasy. She hurriedly sat in the seat Cormac held out for her, then grasped his hand as he returned to his seat by her side.

“What is wrong?” she asked.

“Now, angel, why do ye think anything is wrong?” Cormac knew he was going to have to tell her about Sir Colin, but he was reluctant to do so.

“’Tis a feeling I got as I joined ye.”

“Ah. And speaking of feelings, how is the cat?”

The fact that he was trying so hard to distract her made Elspeth even more nervous, but since a maid was setting the food on the table, she decided to let him get away with it for a little while. “He is fine. I have named him Muddy.”

“I dinnae think he needs a name to roam the streets of this village.”

Again, Elspeth simply ignored his assumption, which was something of a subtle command to leave the cat behind. “I have washed him, tended all of his wounds, and fed him some cream and chicken scraps. I e’en wiped him down with some herbs to kill any fleas he might have and he smells quite nice. I left him sleeping on the bed.”

“Ye arenae going to leave him behind, are ye?”

She gave Cormac a smile that was almost apologetic. “Nay. I cannae.”

“We may have to travel rough and fast.”

“I think he will be fine settled in a roomy bag as a carrier. He is a verra complacent beast.”

“He kens he has just landed in clover,” said Owen, grinning faintly. “A keen eye for a too soft heart.”

Elspeth grimaced, then laughed softly. “I did wonder on that myself.” She tested the slabs of roast on the plate set before her and decided the meat was passably good. “He tolerated being washed clean far too sweetly for a cat, as if he tolerated me doing such things because he kenned that I would then treat him far too weel.” She turned her gaze on Cormac the moment the maid left their table. “Now, what is wrong?”

“Ye sure ye dinnae want to wait until we eat?” Cormac asked.

“Ye are so reluctant to tell me whate’er it is that I begin to grow verra nervous. That willnae make the food set easy in my belly.”

“Sir Colin has found our trail.”

It was hard, but Elspeth restrained herself from cursing virulently. Not only was she dismayed by Sir Colin’s persistance, but it meant that the journey would now become rough and fast, just as Cormac had hinted it would. It was going to be difficult to carry on a love affair or try to win Cormac’s heart while running for her life. And his, she suddenly thought.

“Then mayhap ’tis time for us to go our separate ways,” she said quietly.

“Dinnae be an idiot.”

And that, she decided, was that, as Cormac and his friends began to discuss what needed to be done to keep Elspeth out of Sir Colin’s grasp. They had taken up her cause and would not be disuaded now. Elspeth did not want anyone to risk his life for her, but she knew that none of these men would listen. All she could do was promise herself that she would do everything in her power to keep Cormac safe. If it came to a choice between Cormac’s life and allowing herself to be taken back to Sir Colin, she would choose the latter without hesitation.

“I cannae believe any friend of mine can be such a blind fool,” grumbled Paul as he sat down by the fire.

Tearing her gaze from where Cormac had just disappeared into the woods, obviously in as much of a sour temper as Paul, Elspeth sighed. She idly stroked Muddy, who was sprawled gracelessly on her lap. The two men had clearly just exchanged some harsh words and she suspected the tense conversation had had to do with her or Isabel or both.

For three days Cormac’s friends had ridden with them. It was good to have the added protection of two skilled swordsmen. Most of the time they were pleasant company. There had been no sign of Sir Colin or his men, however, and Elspeth began to think it might be better if Owen and Paul left. She and Cormac had no privacy, no time alone, and if he was suffering as much as she was over that lack, it was no wonder that tempers were growing so short.

The other problem was that Owen and Paul could not seem to resist mentioning Isabel. Elspeth knew that they meant well, that they were trying to help turn Cormac her way, but their interference could easily prove disastrous. They could not hide their feelings about Isabel, which only reminded Cormac how persecuted he felt the woman was. In fact, simply reminding Cormac of Isabel was not helpful, if only because it recalled him to the fact that he had been running to the woman’s side before he had stumbled into this tangle with Sir Colin.
And before I yanked him into my bed
, Elspeth thought with another sigh.

“Paul,” she began, glancing at Owen to make sure he was listening as well, “ye do ken that every time ye belittle Isabel ye strengthen Cormac’s need to protect her, dinnae ye?” She nodded when he grimaced. “Obviously a lot of people have tried to talk to Cormac, tried to make him see what that woman really is, and it hasnae worked at all, has it? Truth tell, I believe his stubbornness now keeps this game going. Believe me when I say there is naught more guaranteed to make a stubborn person cling firmly to an idea, no matter how foolish, than for everyone to tell him that it is foolish and wrong. I recognize the symptoms. I have been kenned to suffer from them myself from time to time. And then, of course, one must recall that he is a mon.” She ignored the way Paul and Owen eyed her warily. “Most men would rather cut off their right toe than admit that they are wrong.”

Owen laughed. “Come. It isnae that bad.”

“Oh, aye, it is. E’en when a mon finally kens that he is wrong, he is apt to stand by his error until he can figure out a way to change his stance without actually admitting he is wrong.” She smiled at the two men, who were laughing even as they tried to argue with her opinion.

“But, lass, I thought ye were trying to get Cormac to see that he is wrong,” said Paul after he stopped laughing.

“Weel, aye, but I would ne’er tell him flat out that he was wrong. Not unless there was nay longer anything to gain from being silent. My plan is mostly aimed at making him no longer want Isabel. I thought it might be easier to make him cast aside an old vow than to admit that he had been wrong.”

“Arenae ye worried that, if he gets to court and Isabel is free, he will then marry her as he has sworn to do?”

Just the mention of such a possibility stabbed Elspeth to the heart, but she replied calmly, “A wee bit, but I dinnae think that will e’er happen.” She raised her hand to halt Owen’s protests. “Oh, he might weel ask her, but Isabel willnae want to marry him. If we are all right about her, then Isabel has had every chance to marry Cormac. I believe there is some prize to be had at the end of this macabre succession of murdered husbands and Cormac isnae the one who holds it.”

“Jesu,” muttered Owen. “I ne’er thought of that. And ’tis something a Douglas has, for she keeps marrying Douglases.”

“What did ye think she was doing?”

“I thought she just wanted the money or was mad.”

“If she was mad, I think Cormac would be dead by now, for her victims are all men who have been intimate with her. It matters not at the moment, however. I do wish that ye would take more care not to mention that woman, if ye please. She looms as a verra determined obstacle as it is. ’Tis best for me if Cormac thinks of her as little as possible.”

“Fair enough,” agreed Owen and Paul nodded. Then Owen eyed Elspeth uneasily as she stood up with a still sleepy Muddy in her arms. “I hope ye arenae thinking of putting that thing on me.”

“Muddy is
nay
a thing.” She ignored Owen’s scowl and soft curse as she set Muddy in his lap. “He but needs to be warm and he will keep ye verra warm, too,” she said, watching as the cat settled down with a heavy sigh and then began to purr. “He likes you.”

“How nice. Now my life has a purpose.”

Elspeth laughed and kissed his cheek, then went in search of Cormac. She really hated to go near Cormac when there was any chance at all that he was thinking of Isabel, but it was also a very good time to bring herself to his notice. She knew she could not allow herself to be pushed aside by Isabel in his thoughts, especially when, for now, she was not able to replace Isabel in his arms. There was so little time for her to carve herself a niche in his heart and mind, she could not waste a moment of it.

She found him not far from the campsite, leaning against a gnarled tree and staring off toward the moors. He had obviously heard her approach, for he held his hand out for her without even turning to look her way. Elspeth put her hand in his, then gave a little squeak of surprise as he swiftly pulled her into his arms.

“I just thought I would come and see where ye liked to sulk,” she said.

Cormac looked down at her, his lips twitching into a smile when he saw her impish expression. “Wretch. I am nay sulking.”

“Of course not.”

“I just thought it was better if I came out here to think rather than punch a dear friend in the nose.”

“Oh, aye, infinitely better.”

“No one is with you?”

“Nay, Paul obviously has the sense to ken how to protect his nose, and when I came to look for you, Muddy was still a wee bit sleepy, so I put him in Owen’s lap.” She grinned when Cormac laughed. “Muddy likes Owen.”

“How fortunate Owen must feel. We may yet need their swords,” he muttered.

Elspeth smiled against his chest. Just as she had done several times over the last three days, Cormac was convincing himself that it would be foolish to dismiss the help of
his friends. She could feel the hunger in him and it stirred her own, although it had never been fully at rest. Cormac might have left the camp because of something said about Isabel, but it was she he was thinking of now, she he wanted so badly he could not stop himself from caressing her.

“Curse Sir Colin,” he said in a husky voice even as he slid his hands down over her backside and pulled her closer to him.

“He isnae here now, either,” she whispered, standing on tiptoe to kiss the underside of his chin.

“True.” He slowly rubbed himself against her and wondered why he was torturing himself so.

“And neither are your friends.”

Cormac put his hand under her chin and tilted her face up to his. Her eyes were lit with the same need that had him aching so badly he could barely sleep at night. He could almost feel the pulse of it in her slim body. The passion she could stir within him was a wildness in his blood, one he knew she shared. In the past, a few bouts of lovemaking had been enough to sate him with every other woman save Isabel. With Elspeth, each time he made love to her, it simply added to his need for her. Three days without touching her had been pure torture.

He glanced around. She was right. They were completely alone. Cormac saw no signs of danger, although he was so choked with lust he would not be surprised if it hampered his vision. He looked back at Elspeth just as she wet her lips with her tongue. Cormac groaned and kissed her.

A conflagration
, Elspeth thought dazedly as the passion she and Cormac had struggled to tame raged into life. His hands were everywhere and she feverishly tried to match his every caress. She prayed no one came along, for she doubted any interruption would be heeded now. They were too starved for each other, too frantic in their need to be cautious.

Suddenly, Elspeth found herself turned so that her back was against the tree. Cormac tugged her bodice down and feasted on her breasts. When the warmth of his mouth left them, she muttered a protest, then tensed slightly as he fell to his knees in front of her. The thin linen breeches that she wore beneath her skirts to protect herself from chaffing while riding astride, and from the occasional chill breeze that slipped beneath her petticoats, were suddenly gone. She murmured another protest when he pushed up her skirts, for she felt too exposed. Then he touched his lips to the soft heat between her legs and she nearly screamed. With a stroke of his tongue he banished all of her resistance. Elspeth threaded her fingers into his thick hair but she was not sure if it was to hold him there or to hold herself upright.

Even as her release began to shiver through her and she called to him, Cormac stood up. With one arm curled around her to support her, Cormac wrapped her legs around his trim waist. He kissed her, and as he slid his tongue into her mouth, he entered her body. It took only a few thrusts before she cried out to him, wanting him with her as she flew, and he plunged deep inside her, soaring to the heights but a heartbeat later. She clung tight to him as he slumped against her, pressing her hard against the tree. It was a while before they ceased to tremble with a lingering pleasure, their breathing slowing to a more normal pace.

“Ye drive a mon to madness, angel,” he said softly, brushing a wrenchingly tender
kiss over her mouth before easing out of her and setting her back on her feet.

“’Tis a pleasant madness,” she murmured, blushing fiercely as she tugged on her little breeches and smoothed down her skirts.

Seeing her blushes and a hint of nervousness in her movements, Cormac quickly straightened his clothes. He moved to stand in front of her, halting her somewhat agitated tidying of her bodice by grasping her hands in his. Then he waited patiently for her to look at him, smiling when she finally peered at him through the thick shield of her long lashes.

“We have done naught to regret, have we?” he asked, touching a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“I sometimes find my own wantonness a wee bit unsettling,” she replied in a soft voice. “I mean, to do, weel,
that
in the full light of day.”

“Ye loved me in that way.”

She shrugged. “I had heard that men liked that and I found it a pleasure myself.”

“I rather thought ye liked it, too. My returning the pleasure, I mean.”

“Oh, aye,” she admitted, unable to look at him as she did, however. “’Tis just the thought of how ye were seeing so much of me. ’Twill take a wee bit of getting used to, I suppose.”

“I like looking at you. Ye are verra beautiful. Wet,” he murmured against her cheek as he kissed it. “Hot. And delicious.”

Blushing fiercely again, yet also excited by his words, Elspeth looked up at him, thinking to lightly scold him for his brazen talk. Over his shoulder she caught sight of something that made her tense with fear. Five armed men were swiftly approaching across the moor. She binked in the vain hope of making the vision fade, but on they came.

“Oh, sweet Jesu,” she cried out in horror as she realized the danger Cormac was now in.

“Weel, I didnae think it was so perverse.” Cormac wondered why she should be so shocked by something she had so obviously enjoyed.

“Nay, fool, not that!” She pulled free of his hold and pointed at the men, who were getting far too close for comfort. “Look there! Sir Colin’s men?”

“Probably.” He drew his sword, grabbed her hand with his free one, and started to run back toward their camp. “But I dinnae think the who or the why matters too much right now.”

Elspeth, fighting to keep pace with him, her skirts held up in one hand, knew he was right. All that mattered now was that five men were swiftly getting closer and the swords in their hands heralded their deadly intentions. Cormac had his sword at the ready in case one of the men drew dangerously close, but there really was not much chance of him thwarting this attack without the help of Paul and Owen. Now was the time to prove that their presence was worth all the frustration she and Cormac had suffered for three days.

It was an eerily silent pursuit and once Elspeth chanced to look behind her to make certain the men were still there. They were close enough to see that they were sweating. The lack of any hoots, of taunts and jeers, or even of commands to halt made the men seem all the more dangerous to her. If these were Sir Colin’s men, he had finally found himself some with a little skill and determination.

“Owen! Paul! ’Ware, attack!” Cormac bellowed and one of the men at their heels cursed viciously.

Elspeth nearly screamed when a large knife slammed into a tree just ahead of them and to the left. Someone behind them had made an attempt to cut off Cormac’s warning to his friends. She really did not need to see such chilling proof that her troubles had put Cormac and anyone else who helped her into deadly danger. And she knew these men would not give her the chance to graciously surrender herself to save the lives of Cormac, Paul, and Owen. Elspeth prayed that Cormac and his friends were good in a fight—very, very good.

As they ran into camp, Elspeth saw that Owen and Paul were ready to meet what followed them. Cormac nearly threw her to the far side of the camp. Elspeth knew her part now was to sit quietly and pray, to stay completely out of the way of the battle, and not to distract the men now trying to protect her. She had always found that galling. It was one reason she had tried to learn as much about fighting as possible. In a sword fight, however, she had finally had to concede that she lacked the strength to endure for very long. She also knew that, if she jumped into the fray now because she needed to prove herself, she would undoubtedly do no more than get her friends killed, quickly.

The sharp clash of swords that came within a breath of the attackers reaching the camp made Elspeth flinch. She crouched at the far edge of the camp, her knife in her hand, and Muddy hiding behind her back. Cormac and his friends were in a tight little circle, swords and daggers slashing at the men who surrounded them. Elspeth cautiously inched back into the undergrowth. If one of the five men facing Cormac and the others decided to look around, she did not want to catch his eye.