Highlanders (21 page)

To her shock, he spoke loud enough for others to hear. “Robbie is a skilled fighter. And he would still go in my place if you asked it of him.”

He was telling her no, admitting his reluctance before everyone. It would only be right to accept his reasons and let him go. But she was not willing to give up just yet. Instead, she continued her retreat, moving far away from the others so that no one would overhear them.

“I have not asked it of him,” she responded quietly. “I’ve asked it of you.”

A dark rage slid across Dougal’s face. “You do not command me,” he said, his voice like the edge of a blade. “You do not come into my home and make demands.”

“I asked for help—”

“There was no asking.” He moved forward and gripped her around the waist. All of a sudden, her decision no longer seemed like a sound one. She hadn’t considered his response would be this angry.

“Where are you taking me? I’m not going anywhere.” She twisted against him, but he countered by lifting her up. She tried to fight his grasp, but his strength far overpowered hers.

“I’m taking you somewhere we can talk without a thousand ears listening.” He strode farther away from the others, her waist tight in his grasp.

She went motionless, realizing what this could mean. He took her outside the gates and toward the dozens of small crofters’ homes, with thatched roofs and walls made of mud. A dark memory assailed her, of living in a house hardly fit for pigs, much less her mother and siblings.

He led her into a home so small, she could cross the room in three strides. A small pallet lay on one end, and the peat fire had died down to coals.

Calm yourself
, she ordered.
He wants only to talk.

“This is where you live?” she asked.

He nodded. “I built this place with my own hands. It’s enough for me.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he added, “Though I suppose you would look down on it.”

She moved to the far wall, touching the wattle-and-daub walls. The cold surface brought up her anger. He made it sound as if she valued wealth over love. That wasn’t it at all.

“No. There’s nothing wrong with your home.”

“It wasn’t good enough for you when I asked you to marry me two years ago.” His words lashed at her, breaking down her emotions. “You chose a man you hardly knew because he owned hundreds of acres.”

Her hands curled against the wood, and she didn’t bother to hide her tears. “You meant everything to me.”

“If I meant so much to you, then why did you choose another man to wed?” The words were so quiet, they held a razor’s edge.

“Because I was afraid.” Seeing this place only brought back all the harsh memories of her childhood. She remembered the hunger in her sister’s face and the cold body of her infant brother. Living in this way would mean returning to those terrifying days of not knowing if they had enough food to survive the winter.

“Afraid of what?”

She didn’t know how to tell him the truth. None of the words would win his forgiveness, no matter what she said. Dougal was a man of action, not words.

Instead, she chose a place to sit, resting her hand against her cheek. He waited endless moments for her to explain. But the more time stretched between them, the harsher the knots in her stomach grew.

“You had no right to demand that I be your protector,” he began. “In front of my family and kin, no less.”

“You’re the one I trust the most. And as I told you before, I’ll reward you for your time.” She went to add peat to the fire, feeling suddenly nervous about his proximity. Not to mention the anger she’d aroused in him.

“I want nothing from you, Celeste,” he said. “Except for you to leave.”

Her skin tightened at his words, and she turned back to him. “If you wanted me to leave, then why did you bring me here?”

He had no answer for that. In the darkness between them, she waited to see what he would do. Her heart began beating faster as he stood on the far side of the hut.

Hot-tempered, he was not a man who would be manipulated by anyone, though that was not her intention. The air between them was heated with anger and something indefinable. Something that made her blood race against her skin. She took a tentative step forward, sensing that there was far more that he’d held back.

“Why, Dougal?”

Another step. She froze when he closed the distance. “Choose another protector, Lady Eiloch.”

“Don’t call me that again. My name is Celeste.” Her voice came out in the barest whisper.

When he reached up to her face, her skin erupted in gooseflesh. Slowly, he grazed her cheek with his knuckles, until his hand came beneath her chin. “I don’t know what it is you want...Celeste.” He breathed her name as if it were a curse. “But I’ll not let you use me again. If it’s a hired sword you want, find someone else.”

She pressed his hand away, shocked at how hot his skin was. Though she only grazed the edge of his palm, in her mind the vision spun of his rough palms upon her bare flesh. Of what it would be like to lie beneath a man such as this.

“And if it’s not a hired sword I want?” she whispered, wondering what had possessed her to be so daring.

He moved in so fast, she had no time to realize what she’d done. Her back was pressed to the wall, his hard body against hers.

If she continued to push him, she would get what she wanted. But it would not be a calm night of surrender. This man would claim her body, ravaging her with his mouth and hands.

The very thought made her go liquid inside, her body rising to his.

“Will you guard me?” she asked. “Just for a little while?” Against her hips, she felt his hard erection, and the firm pressure kindled her own desire to be taken.

“And who will keep you safe from me?” he demanded. His dark eyes stared into hers before he stepped back and guided her toward the door. “Go back to the castle. Before I take something you’re not offering.”

CHAPTER FOUR

D
OUGAL
DIDN
’
T
SLEEP
that night. His body ached for a release only she could grant him. Inwardly, he damned Celeste for coming here. Never before had any woman tempted him this much. He wanted to take her, to spend the night exploring her delicate skin while her hair fell down to her hips.

God above, she tempted him. But he would never lower his pride to ask. He’d seen the look of dismay on her face when she’d viewed his simple home. She didn’t want a man like him, who had only a tiny plot of land and a thatched hut to call his own. His only valued possession was the mare, and he spent more time with Ivory than his own family.

She was far above him, like a princess...and he was the lowly servant. Perhaps that was what she wanted. A man to serve her.

He was no woman’s slave. Never would be.

His hands dug into the sleeping pallet, and he rolled onto his stomach, trying to suppress the painful aching in his groin. He would tell her no, finding someone else to escort her from Glen Arrin. And when he did, his brothers’ wives would berate him for it. He’d never hear an end to their chattering, for they believed that a man was only happy when he had a wife.

He wouldn’t argue that he’d be glad of a wife at this moment, someone to ease the sexual frustration in him. Although he’d had a few women since Celeste had left him, he’d done his best to avoid them.

It was nearly dawn, and he rose and dressed. Outside, the spring air held a chill, and he rubbed his hands together for warmth. The gray sky held streaks of rose, and he walked silently toward the stables.

Ivory was waiting for him, and he fed her and walked with her in circles, praising her when she obeyed. Today, he intended to try her with a saddle, and he waited until she was calm before attempting it. Though she didn’t like the weight, he rewarded her when she remained steady, allowing him to secure it.

“Good morn to you,” came the voice of Laren MacKinloch. Dougal glanced over and Laren held out a bundle of food. “I thought you might be hungry.”

He kept his grip on the lead and brought the mare over as he greeted his brother’s wife. She gave him leftover food from the feasting last night, cold mutton and oat cakes. The repast was welcome, but he knew she was here to convince him to go with Lady Eiloch.

When she continued to remain silent, he handed her back the bundle and asked, “Well? Aren’t you going to convince me that I’ll dishonor the MacKinloch name if I don’t go with her?”

To his surprise, she shook her head. “I came to ask what
you
wanted. If you want me to find someone else to escort her, I will. Despite last night, Robbie would do it.”

He caught himself before he uttered a retort. The idea of Robbie escorting Celeste anywhere made him uneasy. The man would take advantage of her at the first opportunity.

“What do you want, Dougal?” she repeated.

“I want to be left alone,” he said, reaching up to touch the mare’s cheek. “I don’t want any part of her battle.”

She inclined her head. “Then I will see to it that she leaves.” Pausing a moment, she added, “But when she returned from your hut last night, she was crying.”

Resentment edged his temper at the suggestion that he’d caused her tears. “I did nothing to her.”

Laren gave a sympathetic smile, “I know that, Dougal.” Her eyes softened as she continued, “But I saw the way she was watching you. And I know that you asked her to wed you two years ago.”

He couldn’t hide his surprise. “How did you find that out?”

She sent him a secretive smile, ignoring his question. “She came back for a reason.” Laren reached out to pat the mare. “And I think it’s because she loves you still.” Her gaze turned searching, but he shook his head.

“She wants me as a guard, nothing more.”

Laren eyed him with concern. “You are my brother by marriage, and you deserve more than life with these horses.”

“Let it be, Laren,” he said. “I enjoy my life as it is.”

She nodded. “So be it. But I thought you’d want to know that she’s leaving now. There are men lined up, wanting to be her escort.” With a nod to him, she walked back in the direction she’d come.

A line of men. It didn’t surprise him, not with Celeste’s beauty. She had a face men would die for and a body that had kept him awake all night long.

Dougal grimaced, remembering the softness of her mouth against his. He wanted to spend a night losing himself in that sensual mouth, learning every inch of her slender body. But those thoughts were dangerous.

Dougal ran his hands over Ivory’s back and swung up into the saddle. He needed to clear his head and exercise the mare.

He rode past the gates, keeping Ivory in a controlled canter. The ground was uneven, and he wanted her to have a sure footing. As he let her go, his mind blurred with the question of what Celeste wanted from him. She’d said she didn’t want to be his enemy.

He didn’t want to be friends, either. Beneath the anger of the past two years was the desire to prove himself to her. To make her regret her choices.

When he reached the edge of the MacKinloch lands, smoke rose from a distant fire. A few tents were set up, and he pulled the mare to a stop, wondering who was there. One man emerged from his tent, and Dougal spied the glint of chain-mail armor.

Though it might be only English troops, it was too small a group for an invasion. More likely, they had come for Lady Eiloch.

Dougal turned Ivory back, urging her forward. As the horse picked up speed, he considered what to do. Giving Celeste back to them wasn’t safe. She’d fled Eiloch, and if they’d sent armed men after her, their intent was not friendly. He didn’t even know if they would keep her alive.

The safest thing to do was to put his family first, letting her go. And yet, the thought of surrendering her to these men was impossible. Celeste had put her trust in him, wanting him to keep her safe. Though he might not want to be involved, neither did he want to see her harmed. Her blue eyes haunted him, and her kiss had awakened a temptation that simmered beneath his skin.

Damn her for it.

He rode through the gates, already knowing what he must do. She was waiting on the far side of the fortress, already mounted on her horse while Nairna finished giving her more supplies. Half a dozen men stood at the ready, while her gaze scanned each of them. The men waiting were all unmarried, some barely into adulthood, while other, older men had been widowed. Every last one of them was staring at Lady Eiloch as if he wanted to share her bed. And she, in turn, looked uncomfortable at the prospect.

When Nairna caught sight of him, she sent him a chiding glare. Dougal ignored her and rode forward until he reached the front of the crowd. Celeste’s face relaxed visibly, as if she’d been hoping he would change his mind.

When one of the men ventured too close, Ivory whinnied, rearing up, and Dougal had to hold fast to keep from being thrown off. He spoke to the mare lightly, nudging her with his knees to bring her away from all the people. Only when he’d calmed her did he look back at Celeste.

“The soldiers are here,” he said. “And if you don’t want to be caught, you should come with me now.”

* * *

C
ELESTE
HAD
NO
idea where Dougal was guiding them, but he kept up a relentless pace. They left Glen Arrin through a hidden gate near the back of the fortress, but it wasn’t long before she spied Lionel de Laurent and his men in pursuit.

Her heartbeat quickened, and she leaned forward against her horse, praying Dougal could get her to safety. She hardly cared where they went, so long as it wasn’t back to Eiloch.

Her horse could not keep up with his mare, who was breaking hard through the meadow. She’d never seen any animal move with such speed. When she glanced behind, Lord Eiloch’s men were gaining on them. Though Celeste urged her horse faster, she feared there was little hope of losing her pursuers.

“Dougal!” she shouted to him, needing him to come closer. He slowed the mare for a moment, and without warning, her horse reared up, screaming in pain. Three arrows were embedded in the horse’s side, one in its neck.

Saints have mercy
, she prayed. If they were shooting at her, then they meant to kill her.

Dougal rode in fast, seizing her from the saddle before she could fall. With his arms around her waist, he pulled her onto his own horse, urging the mare faster. The speed was terrifying, but she marveled that the animal could carry her weight and keep up such a pace.

“They want you dead, don’t they?” Dougal said against her ear. “They don’t plan to take you captive.”

She didn’t answer, her mind frozen at the thought. Closing her eyes tightly, she wondered if there was any escape at all. Or if she would live through this day.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered at last. Likely he didn’t hear her against the thunder of the mare’s pace, but his arm tightened imperceptibly around her waist.

After a time, Lord Eiloch’s men faded into the distance. Dougal changed their direction at one interval, veering off the main road and taking them deeper into the mountains. The shadowed hills were blanketed with green, the morning mist obscuring the forest. He deliberately led them into the heart of the clouded mountains, through groves of fir trees. With the slower pace, Celeste grew more aware of his arms around her, and the hard-muscled thighs pressed against her backside.

She did not speak, not daring to break the stillness. Instead, she drank in the beauty of the misted mountains, riding countless miles along a worn path in the trees. Once, they stopped to let the mare drink, but even then, Dougal maintained his silence.

After so many hours, she was now beginning to wonder if he ever intended to tell her their destination. They had traveled far past Locharr, and it was now late afternoon. She’d had nothing to eat at all, and her stomach was gnawing itself with hunger. Finally, she could stand it no longer.

As he led her through another valley, she stopped to ask, “Where are you taking me, Dougal?”

“We’ll visit my brother Callum and his wife at Cairnross. Their fortress is a day’s journey away, and we’ll reach it by tomorrow night.”

Tomorrow night? She hadn’t anticipated it would take that long.

“Will the soldiers catch up to us?” Although they had managed to escape Lionel’s forces for now, she didn’t know whether the men could track them here.

Dougal shook his head. “Not this night.” He guided her toward a hidden pathway that led up a steep incline. “We’re a few hours ahead of them now, and it’s too dark for them to find us.” He pointed toward a small pool of water in a small clearing and added, “We’ll make camp here.”

That much was a relief. He helped her dismount and removed the saddle and blanket from the mare, rubbing her down after the ride. Celeste suddenly realized that when the men had shot her horse, they’d lost all their supplies. Dismayed, she went to get a drink from the pond, but the hunger was starting to make her light-headed. “Is there anything to eat?” she asked him.

Dougal withdrew some strips of dried meat from a pouch at his side. “Take these. And I’ll hunt for our dinner while you start a fire.” He gave her flint, and she set it aside before she gathered tinder and wood.

He was gone for a long time. Celeste built a fire and sat beside it, trying to warm herself. Yet, it did nothing at all to dispel her fear. Lord Eiloch’s men weren’t going to let her live. They would hunt her down, and her death meant they would inherit all of Edmon’s lands. Melisandre would be sent away to fend for herself.

Her hands began shaking, though she tried to push back the fear. She hadn’t known, until now, how much danger she was in. She could not go back.

And yet, she
must
go back. Her sister’s life depended on it.

Dougal returned within the hour with two ducks. While he prepared them to roast, she gathered several stout branches and propped them against a wide tree, creating a small shelter. Using the blanket from Ivory’s back, she covered the lean-to and then unfastened her cloak to cover the cold ground.

Dougal eyed her creation and nodded with approval. “That will do well for the night.” He set up the water fowl to roast and then came to sit beside her. Celeste was aware of his proximity, and she spoke at last.

“Thank you for helping me to escape them,” she said, easing to her knees. He was staring at the fire, and though he gave a nod, there was tension in his posture. He looked uneasy, and his hand kept slipping to the dirk at his side as if ensuring it was still there.

“Dougal,” she said softly, “I am sorry for what happened between us. I was hoping...we could be friends again.”

He said nothing, but kept his gaze fixated upon the flames. His lack of an answer discomfited her. Was it so hard to be friends again? Her earlier fear was replaced by annoyance. To get his attention, she picked a handful of grass and tossed it at him. “Didn’t you hear what I said?”

He stared down at the grass sprinkled over his trews. “You threw grass at me?” The disbelief on his face was almost laughable.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to throw rocks.” She pulled another handful in an invisible threat. “It’s not the first time I threw something at you. Remember the leaves that day when we were in the woods?” It had begun when she’d made an enormous pile of autumn leaves, tossing them in the air.

“I remember what happened after our leaf battle,” he said.

Her smile faded. He’d pressed her back into the leaf pile, his body on top of hers while he’d kissed her senseless. From the feral look in his eyes, he wasn’t thinking about leaves at all.

“I think you’ve forgotten how to have fun, Dougal,” she remarked, flinging the handful of grass on his shoulder. “Or how to smile.”

She tiptoed away from him, slipping into the darkening woods. Hiding behind one of the trees, she waited for him to come and find her. When he didn’t move, she chose a tree with low branches and climbed onto one of them.

“I don’t want to play, Celeste.”