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Authors: Hannah Howell

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BOOK: His Bonnie Bride
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Thoughts of escape were indeed in Storm's mind, but she could see that her chance would not come yet. A part of her was glad, for the idea of trying to get back to Hagaleah alone in the dark was terrifying. She sighed silently, wishing she were a man, for then she would only face ransoming. Then, too, she would have been better equipped to plot escape, manage it and elude her captors. As she began to close her eyes a movement in the forest just beyond caught her notice. She stiffened for she feared she knew what it was.

Like some specter and with as little noise, the small figure crept over to her. It was at her side when Tavis suddenly sprang to his feet, his sword raised. With a small cry and no thought to her own safety, Storm placed herself between Tavis and her cousin Phelan.

"Do not harm him. 'Tis but a boy." She saw that the other men had roused quickly, ready for battle.

Tavis did not put away his sword, but he held it less threateningly. "I can see that. Who is he?"

"Phelan O'Conner," the boy replied in a clear child's voice that held no fear.

"How come ye here?" Tavis was noting the bright hair and odd eyes so like Storm's.

"I followed Storm to the glade. Ye should ne'er go out alone," he scolded her. "When ye took her I followed ye. I thought I could aid her to escape," he said flatly, his shoulders sagging with the weight of failure.

"Ye followed us on foot? Alone?" Tavis was duly impressed by such a feat.

"Aye. Ye were not traveling at a very fast pace," the boy replied with the air of one unaware that he had done anything worthy of note. "I left when ye did so I know not what they do at Hagaleah."

"What is this boy to you?" Tavis asked Storm.

"My cousin from my mother's kin in Ireland."

Tavis told his men to return to their rest, fetched another blanket and tossed it to Phelan. "I would send ye home, but I ken ye'd nay go. Better to keep ye with us than to have ye yapping at our heels. Ere ye bed down for the night, laddie, I'll be having that knife ye have tucked in your boot."

"I would ne'er kill a sleeping man. 'Twould be cowardly," Phelan said as he handed over the knife.

" 'Tis a comfort to know that, but I prefer ye unarmed. Get some rest, laddie."

When they were again settled Tavis listened to the cousins' whispered conversation. At times he was hard put not to laugh out loud. He did not want the boy along, but he knew there would be no keeping the child away from Storm. It was his fervent hope that there would be no others showing up.

"I had hoped to rescue ye, cousin."

"Not to worry, Phelan. Mayhaps next time."

Silence reigned for a moment before Phelan said, "Are ye feeling a bit cold, cousin?"

Storm bit her lip to stop her laughter, unknowingly mimicking Tavis, for she knew it was not the cold that made the boy wish to be nearer. "Aye. 'Tis a bit sharp. What do ye suggest?"

With the air of one making a sacrifice, Phelan replied, "We could huddle a bit closer for warmth."

"An excellent idea. Come along then." She let the boy snuggle up to her, the back of him fitting closely to the front of her. "That is much better. Good sleep, cousin."

"Good sleep to ye as well."

"I am glad ye are here," she said softly and meant it, for even though he was but a child he was family, and somehow that made things seem less bleak.

Chapter Four

Caraidland burst into life when the raiding party rode up, their bounty on the hoof very welcome after a long winter. Storm sat before Tavis upon his stallion and watched her father's stock praised and sorted out. Knowing how easily that vital stock had been gained by the MacLagans was yet another grievance to lay at Lady Mary's door. Despite her years at Hagaleah, the woman still failed to really understand the way of things. For that misjudgment the people who worked her father's lands would have less food in their bellies. Storm knew that would not bother Lady Mary at all.

Tavis dismounted, helped Storm down and left her standing next to her cousin with Angus to keep a close eye on them. He always saw to the stabling of his mount himself. After a last quick glance at Storm, who looked tiny next to the stocky, muscular Angus, he turned his attention to caring for his horse.

"They surely did well for themselves," Phelan remarked softly.

"They surely did. Some of our best stock. T'will mean a few less lambs, a few less calves, a few less of everything, for one loss leads to another. Lord, but I wish my father had not gone away from Hagaleah."

" 'Tis not his fault, cousin. How could he know what would happen? He believed your steward worthy of his trust. 'Tis not his fault that the man's a lecherous bastard who's easily led by his ..."

"Phelan!" Storm cried, cutting off the boy's too candid commentary, and then she flicked a quelling glance at Angus, who quickly turned his laughter into a fit of coughing.

"Sorry, cousin, but sometimes I forget ye are a lady."

"I suppose that is a compliment," she murmured, her eyes dancing with laughter as they met Phelan's.

For a moment they simply stood and watched the people of Caraidland watch them. Although somewhat used to stares because of their unusual hair color and catlike eyes, it was, nonetheless, unnerving. These people were, after all, the ancient enemies of the Eldons. It was difficult to guess what thoughts lay behind those steady looks.

"Ye may hold my hand if ye are feeling a wee bit afraid," Phelan said quietly.

Biting back a smile when she recognized yet another of Phelan's attempts to behave as the child he was, yet not lose face, Storm said, "Why, thank you, Phelan. I believe I am feeling a bit faint of heart."

She held out her hand and he clasped it with his, which was not all that much smaller. Storm saw a brief flash of approval in Angus's solemn face. It puzzled her that she should feel pleased.

"They are not like the Northmen, are they?" Phelan asked with a hard-won casualness.

"No, of course not. Where did ye hear tales of those men?"

"From my grandfather. The Northmen oft raided the coast of Erin. They were a savage lot."

"Aye, they were that. These people are not like that. They are not all that different from the men at Hagaleah. We have raided each other and fought each other since the first Eldon set up housekeeping along the border. Ye must not believe all the tales ye are told."

Nodding, Phelan was content for a moment, but then his eyes widened and his agitation grew very apparent. "They may be men like those at Hagaleah, but e'en your father's men—when they catch a woman—with a woman they ..." A glance at Angus's suddenly unreadable face did not aid Phelan at all.

A chill snaked up Storm's spine, but she calmly said, "I would rather not discuss that, Phelan."

Phelan's concern was not so easily quelled. "But ye cannot be blind to the dangers, cousin. Ye must ..."

"I am not blind, but that does not mean I must constantly stare at them either.
Acushla,
a woman unguarded is ever at risk. I was not safe in my own home. Sir Hugh was not reading me poetry, was he? Let us leave the subject. Allow me my temporary ignorance, for it eases my soul. There is naught we can do about it."

Again they fell silent. Storm struggled to heed her own words while Phelan wished himself a man full grown who might give Storm more of the protection she would need. Though only nine, he was far from ignorant of the way of a man with a woman. He could read the look in the men's eyes, especially in the one named Tavis. That man wanted what Sir Hugh had sought, and he could take it as he pleased.

"Oh, look there, Phelan," Storm cried, honestly surprised but also seeking something to lighten the sad look upon the boy's face. "Is that not the mare called Cornelia? The one so carefully shipped to us from Sussex?"

"Aye, it is," Phelan exclaimed, a grin splitting his face. "I recognize those white markings."

Starting to laugh, even as she wondered how she could, Storm said, "Oh Lord, Lady Mary's personal mount. I wish I was there to see her face when she discovers that the mare was taken. She will be livid. T'will be glorious. Such a pity to miss it."

"Can ye see it?" Phelan began to laugh as helplessly as Storm. "The lady standing about with her gilded saddle and nary a mount to display it upon. I could almost pity that pretty groom of hers come discovery."

" 'Tis sweet justice, is it not?" Storm gasped and was struck by another seizure of hilarity.

Tavis arrived and looked to Angus for an explanation of the prisoners' good humor. Prisoners were not known to do much laughing. As he waited, his own mouth twitched with laughter, for the open, unaffected laugh Storm possessed was infectious. Angus, a rather stolid man not given to laughter, looked very near to joining the cousins in their uninhibited amusement.

"Seems we hae taen Lady Mary's personal mount," Angus explained with a smile.

A grin split Tavis's face. "Have we now." He looked at the two cousins whose remarkable eyes were still bright from laughter only just halted. "Ye are still a wretched wee lass," he told Storm.

"I know. Still, 'tis funny to think of m'lady with her elegant saddle and her personal groom, who was chosen for his beauty and dressed so fine, but no horse. She had the mare brought up from Sussex. She will only ride Sussex mares."

Shaking his head over such wasteful eccentricity, Tavis took her by the arm. With Phelan hovering close by, he led her into the tower house that their laird called home. As they walked, Tavis marveled that she could look so fresh after the long night and the rough trip. It was a strength he would not have attributed to an Englishwoman.

It was a good strong building that they entered, one which Storm felt could withstand most anything if by some miracle an enemy breeched the outside walls. From what she could see as they made their way to the hall, the MacLagans were not without funds. Here was no simple border landholder but a family of power and prestige. Her nose and eyes also told her that ventilation was very good, something not often the case even in the best of fortified residences. She became reluctantly impressed as she was led along the corridor.

The hall filled up quickly when they arrived. After a brief glance around, noting such things as tapestries of excellent quality, rugs from the East and other signs of well-being, she looked at the people seated at the massive head table. She quickly recognized Sholto MacLagan and the laird, although he did not look well, but wondered who the relatively young woman was who looked so imperial and lovely. Phelan's hand slid into hers as Tavis and Iain went to greet their father, leaving Angus as a guard yet again.

"Sweet Mary, I'd nay have thought Eldon would be so easy to steal from," remarked Colin when he had a full accounting of what had been seized as well as the ease of the raid.

"He wasnae home," said Iain. "Off to France to fight for the Sassanach king. His steward's in charge."

"Weel, we could make a very fine profit if this is how the man cares for his laird's property." Colin squinted toward the captives. "And what have ye got ... God's teeth, ye have taken the wee lass again."

"Aye." Tavis let his gaze rest upon Storm for a moment. "Aye. The lad's her cousin. He followed us. Had a thought to free the lass." He grinned at his father. "Truth to tell, I had to rescue the lass ere I could steal her. A Sassanach gentleman was behaving verra ungallantly. Had her down upon the grass and all."

"Things are in a tangle from what the lass says," Iain reported. "The steward is cuckolding the laird and nay a one o' the ones with responsibility are using it. 'Tis easy to see, for there were few guards and watches posted. So, too, I cannae believe Eldon would let a man stay at Hagaleah who is sore bent on bedding the lass and nay too subtle about it. That man had no fear of retribution, though he was set on raping the only daughter of the laird." Iain then went on to tell his father of what they had done to Sir Hugh, and his father laughed heartily.

"She said we'd get no ransom," Tavis added. "She claims the Lady Mary would as soon see her sent back piece by piece. The lass e'en feels her kin will ne'er return alive from France and 'tis no death in battle that she fears. Lady Mary has her own bairns readied to be laird and her lover to be the children's guardian."

For a moment Colin said nothing, simply frowning in thought. He pondered on the girl's claims and felt that there was a chance they were the truth. Once the opportunity for a ransom was negated, Colin quickly came to the only other possible reason for Tavis to abduct the girl. Colin looked at his eldest son, noting that Tavis's gaze never faltered.

"Ye'll no take the lass if she's unwilling. I owe the lass me sword arm. I could have lost it that day, for 'twas a deep wound. It healed weel and the physician said 'twas due to the good and quick care I got."

"Aye, 'tis true. I dinnae want her unwilling." Tavis smiled slightly. "Nay, I will have the lass say aye first."

"A firm aye, ye rogue. Nay a one seduced out o' her. I'll have ye ask ransom for her first as weel."

Tavis nodded. "I will send the demand out right away. Care to pass a wee word with her?"

Colin nodded, ignoring his young wife's frown of disapproval. It had been seven years since he had seen Storm Eldon. He was curious to see what changes had been wrought in the taking child they had known so briefly. One thing was clear to see and that was that, although small of stature, Storm Eldon was now a very beautiful young woman. Colin could easily understand his eldest son's desire, but he would ensure that that desire was not satisfied by force.

Hesitating briefly when Tavis signaled her to come to his side, Storm wondered what plans had been made. As she moved to stand between Tavis and Colin as instructed, she noticed that the young woman seated at the table was looking none too pleased. With lovely chestnut hair and gray-green eyes, the woman was beautiful but, at the moment, those eyes flashed with dislike and the voluptuous figure was stiff with outrage. Storm wondered if the woman meant something to Tavis and surprised herself by finding that she did not like the idea of that at all. Shaking her mind free of such puzzles, Storm turned her attention to Colin MacLagan.

BOOK: His Bonnie Bride
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