Kara Griffin - Gunn Guardsmen (7 page)

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Authors: On Highland Hill

BOOK: Kara Griffin - Gunn Guardsmen
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“Aye,” Laird Gunn said.

“I shall become a Gunn then. I do thank you, Laird Gunn, for your kindness and protection. Before I came to supper that night at Domhnall’s hall, he threatened me. I feared he was going to harm me. He asked about the parchment and had each time he’d returned to the village. I am pleased that you took me. I just have one question.”

“What’s that lass?”

“Who struck me on the head?” She rubbed the small bump above her ear. Though the thumping subsided, she didn’t like that they’d used force on her. Someone had to have hit her and she thought she remembered being struck.

Both Laird Gunn and Kenneth grinned. She thought it odd, but didn’t remake on it. They pointed to a man who lay beyond them. She rose and went over to the large body lying helplessly on the ground in slumber. Why she did what she did was beyond her, but all of her fear and anger came out. She couldn’t help herself. With a force unbeknownst to her, she kicked him hard on his thigh.

He came off the ground in a rush and grabbed his sword. Elisa’s breath caught. She was certain she’d be run through before she could scream. The tip of the sword was a hair’s length from the skin at her neck. She daren’t move, speak, or breathe.

“Why’d you kick me, lass?” Sean yelled, lowering his sword to his side. “God Almighty, what the hell is going on?”

And now the other two awakened and watched her. Elisa became embarrassed by her actions. She saw the smirks on their faces even in the shadowy darkness. Unable to meet Sean’s eyes or any of the men’s, she looked at the ground, feeling the burning in her ears.

“Aye, you shouldn’t be kicking your husband,” one of the others said.

“Husband? Husband!” Elisa turned and with hands on hips, she glared at Laird Gunn.

“It’s been decided. Sean is to be your husband.”

Elisa had never fainted in her entire life but the sensation of doing so came on strong. Her eyes blurred and her breath rushed out. She fought hard to keep on her feet. Forget having a sense of decorum, she would set them straight on the matter.

“Nay! For all that is holy I will not marry him.”

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

 

On a bright sunny morning they left the farmstead, she’d been told, at the far western reach of their land, and began traveling to the east. The sun began to rise over the tree line. Elisa was happy to have some knowledge of the direction they headed. Though she still had no idea where they were in proximity to where she grew up.

Exhausted emotionally and otherwise, Elisa stared ahead, unable to come to terms with the laird’s request. It was more of a command, because he wouldn’t relent and insisted the only way to keep her safe was to wed her to one of his men. Elisa tried her best to change his mind, but he wasn’t accommodating. One thing was certain; she definitely did not want to wed Sean.

Colm held her tightly around her waist. Mayhap a little too closely. She’d loosened his hold at least four times in the last hour. What’s more, she caught him smelling her hair and when she turned to give him a reproachful look, he grinned as if he was a lad caught stealing a sweet cake from his mother’s table.

Her ‘soon to be husband’ didn’t object to her riding with Colm or any of the others. She didn’t want to marry anyone least of all a man whom appeared not to need her. Sean’s soul seemed intact and he looked happy with his lot in life at being a Gunn guardsman. He barely spoke to her and when he had to, he scowled and his words short and to the point. Apparently he wasn’t happy having to wed her either.

Elisa had to think of something to get the laird to change his mind. So far she’d used the excuse that they didn’t suit, but Laird Gunn stated most couples didn’t suit at the beginning. She also told him that he was too tall for her, to which he said Sean would have to bend to kiss her. That got chuckles from the others and Elisa huffed in objection.

“Laird Gunn, surely we can come up with a compromise. I shall stay hidden wherever you send me. I can stay there until the threat is over.”

He rode next to her and Colm, and Kenneth’s horse trotted on the other side. Kenneth kept his gaze ahead. She wanted to ask for his assistance, but he seemed oblivious to their discussion.

“I told you, lass, we have no choice in the matter. You must do as I have commanded if I’m to keep you safe. With your father dead, it is up to me to ensure you are wedded properly. It is the least I can do to honor his memory. He would want me to take whatever measures are necessary for your safety. You cannot find a better husband than any of my guardsmen. They are all great protectors and providers. What more can you want of a husband?”

She couldn’t answer that because his argument was sound. If she might, she’d say that she wanted to be needed as much as they needed to protect, but she refrained from speaking her thoughts. The men didn’t want to hear her position on such matters and she wouldn’t waste her breath.

Kenneth kept his gaze ahead and she wished he would look at her. Surely she could get someone to take her side and she desperately hoped he would. But the farther they rode, the more she realized that each one of them wouldn’t contradict a thought their laird had. They truly were obedient and most likely never questioned the Gunn laird.

When they stopped for a rest, Elisa stood within the calming woods. The trees overhead shaded her from the bright afternoon sun. She wanted a few minutes of peace and quiet to reflect on this latest dilemma. Men did not tell women of events such as war and political matters. She would have reasoned because they didn’t believe women were adept at thinking beyond what to make for supper or when to take care of the washing.

She wanted to set them straight on that matter from the start. That she was capable of understanding the severity of the threat. Her entire family had been killed for Domhnall’s treason and she realized her life would be in danger should she meet him again. But she wasn’t a silly ninny who couldn’t protect herself if it came to it.

“Elisa?” Kenneth strolled between two thick birch trees, and walked toward her.

Her breath ceased at the sight of him. His stride was confident if not a little bit arrogant, and yet his face held a serene expression. Neither happy nor sad. Being close to him, she began to get a fluttering in her stomach and had whenever he got near. It was as if her body understood what her mind did not. Elisa wasn’t sure why she reacted to him the way she did.

She played with the leaf she’d taken from the wooded ground, and twisted it in her fingers. “I wish to be alone for a few minutes.”

“I cannot allow that.”

“Very well then, Kenneth, you can stay. I just wish to walk around a bit and be within my thoughts.” Elisa wasn’t about to admit she was glad he came. There was something about him that made her heart ease but her mind tense. She wanted to know more about him, but would take it slow. He wasn’t a man who would share himself easily.

“Within your thoughts?”

She lifted her chin to gaze at his face. “Aye, within my thoughts. To consider all that has happened. To think … to reason.”

“Ah, you’re still thinking about changing Grey’s mind. I wouldn’t bother. Once he gets his mind set, there’s no changing it.”

Elisa frowned, and instead of getting angry, she took a breath. “I suppose you know him better than I. I need to walk.” She stepped toward him.

“Are you sore from riding?”

“Are you not?” She knew it was an unwise question since he and his comrades were far more abled than she. They hadn’t spoken a word about the length of the ride or of being tired, both of which bothered her.

“Not really. We’re used to riding long distances. Grey doesn’t like to stop. Come, we’ll walk.” Kenneth led the way through a small path that led to a stream. There, he dunked his hands and applied water to his face and took a long drink.

She wished she could stand there and watch him until it grew too dark to see him. He was too handsome for his own good. Elisa stood behind him, watching the way his muscles tensed in his back through his shirt when he bent over. She saw his muscular thighs when his tartan rose and imagined what his firm skin felt like. Her hand reached out to touch him, but she retracted it, not as brave as she pretended. Kenneth didn’t seem to know how striking he appeared and his modesty made her sigh.

He rose and waved a hand to her.

“Do you want a drink? The water is clean.”

Elisa knelt by the water and cupped her hands to take a drink. She sat and tucked her legs beneath her and looked up at him. How she wanted to ask him if he was married. He probably had a sweet wife who tended to his every need. How she wished she were that woman and envied her. If she had to be a wife, she might as well know what to expect.

“Is Sean a good man?”

Kenneth sat next to her, crossed his arms over his chest and rested against a small tree. He didn’t answer her right away which concerned her.

“Is he?”

“I’ve been his friend since we were lads. I trust him with my life. You will be blessed to be wedded to him. There’s no finer man in our clan besides Grey.”

Elisa would have laughed, because never had she heard such a diplomatic riposte. “You set him in high esteem. Is that how you really feel?”

“How I feel does not account. Are you ready to move on?”

The topic of conversation seemed to bother him, given his severe tone and Elisa decided not to question him further. When she nodded, he rose and helped her from the ground. She reveled at the touch of his hand holding hers even so briefly, that she felt the stirring of it all the way to her heart. She quietly followed him back to their awaiting party and Elisa found herself wishing she knew more about him. She could tell he was deeply saddened by something, or mayhap, he was introverted to the point that no one could read him.

“Thank you, Kenneth. I am well and sated now.”

At her words, the other men gave bemused gazes. She should really reprimand them, because she knew where their thoughts led. Elisa wanted to ride with Kenneth so she could delve more into his essence, but he settled upon his horse before she could ask.

Colm stood next to her and as if reading her mind, he grinned. “I get the pleasure, milady.”

She nodded curtly and let him assist her upon his horse. At least she didn’t have to ride with Sean, she thought, because he had no liking for her and hadn’t even spoken a kind word since she’d kicked him. She supposed she deserved that and probably shouldn’t have done what she did. He could nonetheless be cordial. That wasn’t asking too much, was it?

Before they’d begin their trek, Kenneth rode closer to her and Colm. He held out a tartan.

“For later, when it gets cold.”

Elisa didn’t know what to make of his kind gesture. “Thank you, Kenneth.” She held his tartan in front of her, happy to have a part of him near.

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

 

They traveled another day, stopping for a few hours to rest here and there. Elisa had been quiet during their trek and Kenneth reasoned she’d accepted the fate of having to wed Sean. At least she hadn’t voiced her wrath this day. She’d tried to get Colm, James, and he to side with her against Grey, but they wouldn’t concede to help her. As far as they were concerned, Grey made the right decision. The lass would be safer if she was wed and hidden.

Kenneth kept quiet and watched Colm hold Elisa before him on his horse. He gnashed his teeth wanting badly to object when it was decided she would travel with him again that morning. But better Colm than Sean, he thought, for the latter’s safety. Who knew what she’d do to Sean if she had to ride with him.

Kenneth fought an inward battle with himself. Sean was his longtime friend, his best friend, and he should be wishing him congratulations and well wishes on his wedding day. Instead, he wanted to bash his face and cause him a little injury too.

All were disagreeable during the ride and tension rose with every passing hour. Kenneth knew each had their own objections about Elisa marrying Sean, but no one would dare voice their opposition. Soon they’d reach their home and Grey would search out Father Geoffrey. It would be done before the sun set. Could he refrain from interfering when the time came?

Kenneth wasn’t sure. But until that moment, he’d had to consider the ramifications. He didn’t want a bride. What the hell would he do with a woman? Well, besides the obvious. He didn’t have a home or anything to offer the lady. The only thing that mattered was protecting Grey and the Gunn clan. It had been his sole purpose of existence since he was a lad and given over to Grey’s father for training.

He was gladdened when he’d gone to the Gunns since his father didn’t much care for him. All the years while growing his father would excessively talk of Greer’s role in the clan, and how happy he’d be when his son became laird. Never had he mentioned any pride concerning him, and Kenneth shouldn’t have expected it. Such was the fate of second sons.

Kenneth understood and hadn’t despised his father for his position. That is until his brother died. Then his father often ridiculed him and openly mocked anything he’d accomplished. His father swore he’d name a successor before he’d let Kenneth lead their clan. His father’s behavior was unforgivable and Kenneth declared he’d be run-through before he’d step on McInnish soil again. Those words stayed with him, and even though he hadn’t really meant them wholeheartedly, his anger still plagued him.

That day he vowed to be a Gunn forevermore and considered himself such. After all, he lived for more years on Gunn land than he had anywhere. He took the Gunn clan as his family.

Greer was a fine son and brother. He never lorded his role over him and insisted their father held respect for him. Kenneth didn’t believe that. But he and Greer were friends. Nothing would have ever changed that. Still, Kenneth believed he’d let his brother down when he’d been unable to save him. He should have been by his side as a brother should. Thinking back on that event, he wasn’t even sure where he’d been when Greer was killed. The despondency of that alone rode his guilt like a bull bent on stomping every weed on a field.

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