My Highland Love: Highland Lords Series (19 page)

"I would like to get up now," Elise said.

He looked back at her. "Aye." He came to his
knees. Before she could rise, he slid his arms beneath her, cupping
her to his chest.

She gave him an impatient shove as he rose.
"Set me down."

Marcus assumed a thoughtful expression. "Nay.
I have won and deserve my reward."

Elise lifted a brow. "Just what reward would
that be, sir?"

He grinned. Aye, she had learned the game. He
stepped behind the cover of the bushes he had occupied earlier and
paused, uncertain what he wanted to do with her. Marcus laughed
inwardly. He knew exactly what he wanted to do with her. He simply
hadn't decided how to go about it. One thing he did know, however,
he was enjoying the feel of her wet chemise against him far too
much to release her just yet.

He kissed her. She pushed against his chest
and Marcus realized she wasn't about to let him make love to her in
plain sight of the other women. He laid her on the ground and came
down upon her, gently this time. He tugged her chemise high enough
to free her legs and settle between them. Her grip on his shoulders
tightened. He kissed her again. Hard. She tensed.

"Shh," he soothed. "Let me please you."

He slid a moist kiss down her cheek, then
along her neck. "Just a little love play," he whispered.

He didn't intend on taking her there,
tumbling her like a serving wench, but please her, he would.
Slowly, he smoothed a hand along her outer thigh. Grasping her
chemise, he bunched it until his fingers touched the soft flesh
beneath. Elise turned her head, her cheek against his, and placed a
kiss on his jaw. Marcus breathed deep.

He slipped his hand beneath her and cupped
her buttocks. "I swear to only please you this time."

"We aren't—" She gasped as he lifted her
buttocks, meeting her flesh with a gentle rotation of his shaft
against her sex.

Her breath came quicker. He caressed her
buttocks, her hip. A distant pounding of hooves stabbed through the
cloud of desire. He paused, his hand on her pelvis. Again, a
distant sound—a roll of thunder? He lifted his head. In a flash,
the memory of the dream he'd had while at Declan's washed over
him.

Elise's grip on his shoulder tightened. "What
is it?"

Shrieks sounded.

The women.

Marcus shoved to his knees. He peered through
the bushes. Riding like hell hounds toward them were seven Campbell
warriors.

Seven
, his mind repeated calmly. Not
an army like that in his dream.
Only seven.

He leapt to his feet.

"Who are they?" Elise called.

His hand shot to his side. Bloody hell, he'd
left his sword at the keep. Foolish mistake. Marcus swung his gaze
to the two warriors sent to guard the women. He made out the red of
their plaide behind bushes thirty feet down shore. He glanced up
the mountainside at Brahan Seer. Why were no warriors charging down
the hill? They must have seen the riders.

Elise scrambled to her feet and Marcus
whirled. He shoved her to the ground. "Do not move!" He turned back
to watch the Campbells approach.

The women shrieked. Those on the shore raced
for the water, joining their comrades who had taken to deeper
waters.

"Marcus!" Elise cried.

He looked to see her standing, then glanced
at the oncoming men. His heart thumped wildly. Had they seen her?
Marcus grabbed her wrist, yanking her back to the ground.

"Nell," she said, struggling to rise and
pointing to the right of their hiding place.

Marcus looked. There, sleeping soundly on the
shore, lay Nell, a young maid who had only last week begun working
in the castle. Despite the ruckus, she didn't stir. Marcus recalled
that she was deaf in one ear. His heart leapt into his throat.

"Do not move," he ground out, and turned back
to peer through the bush.

The other women had swum safely to deeper
waters. Someone cried out Nell's name, but the girl didn't wake.
Marcus looked at the Campbells. Two of the seven comrades reached
the women's clothes and halted. More shrieks came from the women as
they swam farther from shore. The two Campbells scanned the frantic
women but made no move to pursue them.

One of the Campbells said something
indistinguishable. Marcus strained to make out the other's response
but without success. They continued to scrutinize the women, their
attention moving farther to the right where Nell lay. They would
see her in an instant. Marcus stood and stepped around the bush
into full sight. He took two paces in the direction of his
warriors' hiding place.

"Look!" one of the Campbells shouted, and the
other turned in Marcus's direction.

Marcus spied a large piece of driftwood. He
hurried the few paces to the wood and snatched it up. He kept his
gaze on the Campbell who had called out as he snapped off two small
branches and dropped them. Four of the five remaining Campbells
joined their companions.

"Ha!" one of the newcomers exclaimed. "The
MacGregor thinks to bring us down with a stick of wood."

The man unsheathed his sword and kicked his
horse's belly. The beast lunged forward. The man bore down upon
Marcus and swung his sword. Marcus deflected the blow with the
driftwood as the horse shot past, and pivoted full circle, hitting
the man across the back with the wood. A loud crack sounded and the
man fell to the ground limp. Two more Campbells spurred their
horses toward him.

He sprang forward, headed for the fallen
Campbell's sword. He reached the weapon with a dive, barely missing
the sweep of an oncoming rider's sword. The Campbell barreled past
while his companion wheeled his horse hard right to intercept. The
Campbells nearest the shore shouted and two more of them shot
toward Marcus.

Marcus sprang to his feet, his steel meeting
that of the man who had cut him off. Marcus faltered a step under
the power of his opponent's swing. The man parried left, smiling as
though already tasting victory. Marcus saw the man's fingers
tighten around his mount's reins and, just as the horse turned,
Marcus thrust his sword into his midsection. He twisted the weapon,
then yanked it free.

The man cried out. He clutched his belly and
slumped forward in the saddle. Blood gushed despite the arm he
wrapped around himself. Marcus leapt forward and grabbed his
shoulder. The Campbell swatted at him, his blood-soaked arm leaving
a streak of blood down his arm, but Marcus's fingers found
purchase, and he yanked him from the saddle.

Marcus grabbed the pummel and pulled himself
into the saddle in time to see his two men close in on the Campbell
warrior who had shot past him. The man gave a violent slap of reins
against his steed's rump in an effort to elude them. John lunged
forward, swinging the blunt side of his sword across the horse's
knee. The horse stumbled, then fell to his knees, throwing its
rider. Marcus wheeled his mount around to face the two Campbells
who were nearly upon him when the thunder of hooves rolled down the
mountainside. He cut his gaze to the left and saw a dozen MacGregor
warriors speeding downhill.

A woman cried out, then Elise shouted,
"Marcus! They have Nell!"

He jerked his attention to the girl. His gut
wrenched when one Campbell rounded his attention on Elise and
stared. Marcus yanked his horse's reins to the right. The animal
whirled and Marcus dug his heels into its flanks. In four great
strides, he met his opponent's sword with his own. The Campbell
pulled his mount hard left. Marcus gave his horse a fierce kick.
The horse charged and he thrust his sword into the Campbell's side
even as the man's gaze met his.

The man's eyes bulged. He reached out as if
to grab Marcus. Marcus yanked his sword from the man's body. The
man's mouth worked. Marcus whirled his horse toward the warrior who
had captured Nell. The guards from Brahan Seer flew across the
shore in his path, Erin in the lead.

"Erin!" Marcus shouted, then to one of the
other men, "You!" Both men broke from their party and spun toward
him. "Take her back to the keep." He jabbed his sword in Elise's
direction. "Erin, you're with me."

In an instant, the warrior reached Elise. She
shook her head.

"Take her!" Marcus ordered, and slapped the
reins across his horse's rump.

He drove his mount, staying a nose ahead of
Erin. Nell's heels unexpectedly kicked the belly of the Campbell's
horse.

Fight, lass, fight!
Marcus urged.

The Campbell's fisted hand rose and he
tensed. The fist fell hard and Nell went limp. Marcus's blood
froze.

The ground softened as the shores of Loch
Katrine changed from rocky sand to marsh. Marcus smiled coldly. One
had to know the land well to ride this section of the shore, which
the Campbell warrior did not. The man's horse faltered. He glanced
over his shoulder, then flung Nell to the ground. Erin cried out.
An even darker rage shot through Marcus.

They reached Nell.

"Take her home!" Marcus shouted without
stopping.

The Campbell's horse stumbled again, then
crashed to the ground, pinning his rider's leg beneath him. The
animal struggled to rise, gave a shrill whinny, then heaved his
full weight onto the man's leg. The Campbell arched in pain. After
an instant's heavy breathing, he craned his head in Marcus's
direction. Marcus lifted his sword. In ten seconds, the warrior
would be his. The man shoved frantically at the horse's back, his
gaze glued on Marcus.

Marcus tightened his grip on the sword. The
man's gaze shifted to the raised weapon. He leveraged a foot on the
horse's back, pushing with all his might. Marcus discerned strain
in his arm muscles as, with one great heave, the man slid his leg
from beneath the horse.

The warrior scrambled to his knees, lunging
for his sword as Marcus raised his weapon and cried,
"
Buadhaich!
" With one mighty swing of the claymore, Marcus
sliced across the man's neck.

Marcus wheeled his horse around and, his gaze
straight ahead, tread over the body as he raced toward home.

Chapter Eleven

Marcus closed the door of his library with a
deceptively soft click and raked his gaze across the men standing
in tense silence. "We have a traitor. When I discover who that man
is—" His glare halted on his father, who sat in the chair nearest
the hearth. Marcus caught the glitter of Cameron's eyes in the
firelight before swinging his attention to Daniel. "You have made
the changes in security?"

"Aye, laird," Daniel said, his mouth
grim.

"Marcus," his father began.

"Aye?" Marcus took two paces and halted
abruptly beside his desk.

Cameron sighed.

"The attack took place during the
mid-afternoon change of guard." Marcus's words shook with the rage
of self-reproach. "I should have realized—bloody hell, my thoughts
were on what awaited me at the loch, just like those men who were
hurrying from their duty at the wall. 'Tis true," he said, the
reproach turned to bitterness, "logic bows to a man's cock."

He had always been prepared. The men who
guarded the walls monitored the village to the east, the loch to
the west, and the valley that stretched for miles to the south. The
weight of guilt bore down in greater measure. His people depended
upon him. Yet the enemy found a crack in his defenses. A shudder
ran through him. Nell had very nearly been a casualty of his
carelessness. Had Katie's life been forfeit because of such
negligence? Aye, she still lived, her heart beat, she breathed, but
her mind had ceased to work. Her spirit lay hidden in some dark
corner of her being. He had failed her, as he had nearly
failed—

Marcus slammed his fist down on the desk.
"Who informed the Campbells of the routine? They attacked our women
before our very eyes. Why such a bold move?"

Cameron answered in a low voice, "It doesn't
seem strange to ye, lad, that we've had Campbells on our land three
times in as many months?"

Marcus's mouth hardened. "Aye. But why?"

"Mayhap the why and who are the same?"

Marcus stilled. "What do you mean?"

They stared at one another for a moment
before Cameron said to the men, "Lads, leave me with my son."

The men filed out, the last closing the door
behind him.

Cameron looked at Marcus. "You mean to say
you don't know?" Marcus only looked at him and his father went on,
"You know well enough the trouble began with Elise."

"Aye, they are using her—"

"You are sure it's them using her?"

Marcus started. A surge of anger rammed
through him, the first genuine hostility he'd ever felt for his
father. "Bloody hell, Cameron, you're saying Elise is in league
with the Campbells. They nearly killed her."

"Nay," Cameron replied. "In fact, the lass
returned in remarkably good shape."

"The tracks I saw say otherwise."

"You are a fine tracker, but you are no
master. You should have had Johnson—"

"I did take Johnson, if you recall," Marcus
interrupted.

"But he did not see the tracks you
interpreted as her capture."

"I made no mistake in my interpretation. What
has happened? You were in favor of my having her."

"Aye," Cameron said. "And I like her. But
that does not change the fact she is the most likely suspect."

Elise's expression when he sent John with her
to the loch came to mind. She had been angry. Any woman would be
angry. He had nearly imprisoned her—and why?

"She lived here four months before I arrived
with no such trouble," Marcus insisted.

"Mayhap the Campbells intended you to want
her so they could use her against you."

Marcus laughed harshly. "The woman who
escaped the Campbells was no collaborator. Nay, Cameron, you have
no grounds for suspicion."