ROMANCE: BIKER ROMANCE: Valentine Biker (MC Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) (New Adult Valentine Romance Short Stories) (32 page)

“And what of Matilda, my maid?” The thought of her young maid had slipped her mind completely and she felt responsible for the wretched girl.

“Do not worry, she was sat safely waiting in the carriage. I gave her a start and she started weeping, saying she would not leave without you. She is on the road back to Stirling as we speak.”

Arabella could imagine her father’s reaction when the coach returned. Her mother would probably faint.

“My father will not let this lie either; he will come looking for you.”

“My quarrel is not with your father but with Andrew Stewart, I would not like to harm an innocent man, but if your father attacks then we must fight back.”

Her father was not a warring man and he would be no match for James. He would not do anything but pray for divine intervention. Her position grew more hopeless by the minute and she could feel her bottom lip start to tremor once more. This time, there was no holding back and the tears slid down her pretty cheeks as she started to sob.

James was not used to women crying, he was used to living with his men, yet he was not hardened to her grief. She was a beautiful young woman and he was not unaware of the fact, and to see the poor thing weeping before him, stirred his heart.

His voice was gentle as he reached for her arm.

“Come Arabella, I promise that we will not hurt you. I will be personally responsible for your safety and wellbeing at all times. Now it is getting late and we must get back to the camp. You will feel better after food and a rest.”

Arabella was reluctant to take his offered hand but she had no choice in the matter. She was tired and wished the business over quickly.

James threw her over a pair of men’s breeches and a woollen cloak to wear. She was hardly dressed for riding, and it would look better if she was dressed more like them. It would remove the worry of suspicious glances that her appearance might spark.

“We’re going to have to do something with that long hair of yours too,” and with that James produced a leather cord and gently gathered the hair at her nape and fastened it securely. Passing her a black cap to complete the outfit she changed behind a thicket of trees.

When she finally emerged she looked just like a handsome young boy. Only her blossoming figure gave her away and that would be well hidden beneath a flowing cloak.

Taking her hand he led her to where his horse was patiently waiting, a magnificent black stallion called Jet with a white star marking on its nose. He helped her up and she sat beside him, refusing at first put her arms about his waist as they galloped through the dark night, but as they rode faster through the darkness she found she had to cling on to him to keep her balance, her arms tight around his firm and muscular body. At first she buried her head deep into his back, afraid of the speed and the dark shadows all around her. But he was a good horseman and eventually she relaxed and opened her eyes, enjoying the thrill of the ride. She had never felt so liberated.

Too soon they arrived at the camp, a makeshift place that had been the men’s home for a few days. A few shelters had been made from branches and leaves, to offer some protection from the elements. A few of the men had already started a fire that was already blazing a magnificent cornucopia of colours; deep gold and amber against the black canvas of night. A large cooking pot had been hung over the flames and a delicious smell drifted through the air.

Arabella was still reluctant to become civil with the men, especially the ones that had tried to molest her. James had been kind, but he was the sworn enemy of her betrothed, and it would not be seemly to form any kind of relationship with him.

She was given the best seat by the fire and several woollen blankets were laid out for her to sit on. The warmth penetrated her bones and she curled her slippered toes towards the heat. Tired and hungry she hastily accepted the wooden bowl of broth accompanied by a dense chunk of dark coloured bread. The soup was mutton; her favourite, and she had soon devoured the lot, the fresh air adding to her appetite. Although simple, it was one of the tastiest dishes she had eaten for a long time.

She was determined not to fall asleep. However kind James had been, she did not trust his men.

James Macadam watched the girl from a distance. Her face was lit up; burnished by the glowing fire. Her cheeks had already been flushed from the brisk ride and now she was positively radiant. He had never seen such a beautiful face in all of his life.

As he observed her slight form, her shoulders began to slowly sag within the great cloak around her shoulders, and her head began to droop against her chest. Finally her eyes closed and she was sound asleep.

Picking her up gently, James carried the girl to lie under one of the sheltered spaces. She was so light in his arms, so beautiful, that it made his heart heavy. She was betrothed to Lord Stewart and would be used as a bargaining tool for the return of his lands and the release of his father. That was all; he could not allow himself to get involved.

Lowering her down onto a woollen blanket he had to control a desperate urge to kiss her on the lips. Instead he brushed her forehead slightly with his mouth and she stirred quietly in her dreams, the softest of smiles playing on her lips.

He would not sleep; he would be as good as his word and keep watch over her all night.

When she awoke the next day it took Arabella a while to work out where she was. She had slept well, but was aching from lying on the hard ground. When she looked up, James was there, smiling down at her.

He was so handsome that her heart fluttered; he had been in her dreams and she blushed to think of it. She had been walking down the aisle, approaching Lord Stewart waiting for her at the altar. He had slowly turned towards her, but it wasn’t the face of Andrew Stewart that waited, but the smiling face of James Macadam, and she had been glad with all her heart.

It was a ridiculous notion, her course was set and she had to get to Inverness as soon as possible and she pushed the foolish thoughts to the back of her mind.

Over breakfast, a bowl of simple porridge and ale, James told her of his plans. One of his men was already riding to Inverness to meet up with Lord Stewart to bargain Arabella for the return of his lands and release of his father. James was no fool and knew that it would not be easy. Andrew Stewart was sure to raise a small army and come looking for them –yet he had the upper hand, he had Arabella and even in the eyes of the cold Laird, surely the prize was worth it?

He could hardly dare think about the poor young woman being bound to such a man, but it was not his problem, the girl had obviously agreed to the union. At least she would be well cared for, she would want for nothing in the castle, more than anything he could hope to provide her with.

He shook his head sadly; it was a stupid thought to even entertain. His lifestyle was not fitting for a lady such as Arabella Armstrong.

It would be several days at least until they expected word back from Lord Stewart and the plan was to stay concealed in the camp for as long as they needed.

At first Arabella sat silently, aloof from the men and thinking over her forthcoming marriage. She had been shocked to hear some of the stories about her fiancé, but was sure they were exaggerated; her father would never have given such a man permission to marry her; however wealthy he might be.

Occasionally she would watch James slyly out of the corner of her eye. All the men seemed to respect him and he worked with the men on all tasks, nothing was too lowly for him. She delighted in seeing him demonstrate his strength, either chopping down a tree for firewood or fixing one of the temporary shelters. Occasionally he worked stripped naked from the waist and she loved to watch the rippling biceps and strong shoulders at work. Never before had she felt sexually attracted to a man and a dull ache rose inside of her that she could not dismiss, however hard she tried.

For most of the day she was sat alone with her thoughts and with James not always by her side, she felt the she must keep a close watch on the other men. She caught them looking at her when they thought she wasn't looking and she did not like their stares. It was only when they sat once again around the camp fire that night, and James was sat next to her, did she relax. After they had eaten, one of the men stood up and brought out an old battered set of pipes. She expected the music would be disharmonious and was amazed when the soft haunting melody floated out into the night air. It was a tender, melancholy piece that she recognised from her childhood “
The Bonny lass of Ballochmyle’
and she started to sing the words in her head.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice, sweet and low, singing the very same words she was thinking. It was James. He sang with a rich baritone, and the more he sang, the more she loved him. It was a tale of innocent love and it hit her straight in the heart. 

Fair is the morn in flow'ry May, 
And sweet is night in autumn mild, 
When roving thro' the garden gay, 
Or wand'ring in the lonely wild; 
But woman, Nature's darling child - 
There all her charms she does compile; 
Even there her other works are foil'd 
By the bonnie lass 0' Ballochmyle.

James was looking straight at her and she mouthed the words along with him. Soon the men were clamouring for another tune and invited Arabella to sing for them. At first she was shy, but emboldened by the ale she stood and asked what songs she knew. She could remember the words to ‘
Early one Morning’
and soon the piper had struck up a chord and she was soon singing of a poor maiden’s plight.

Oh, don't deceive me,
Oh, never leave me,
How could you use
A poor maiden so?

Her voice was light and crisp and as she grew bolder the notes soared high into the night sky, as tuneful as a lark at evensong.

James felt his eyes well with tears; the sound was so plaintive that he turned his head away so that his men could not see. In a few days she would be miles away and in another man’s bed. She would soon forget her time here.

When she had finished he went over to sit with her and they talked until the moon had swung around the great mountain to the west. He told her how frail his father had been following the death of his mother. Theirs had been a long and true love and when he had lost her, he thought his whole life over. That had been when the greedy Lord Stewart had struck, when they had all been grieving, and he had taken their lands by force. When his father had tried to complain to the Sheriff, the Laird had imprisoned him in the castle on a charge of trespass on his own lands. His father had been a peaceful man and had always been kind to his tenant farmers. The new Laird had doubled the rents and increased the taxes, driving out families from their homes and livelihoods.

Arabella listened without comment, as she looked into his dark and honest eyes; she knew that he was telling the truth. The more she heard about Lord Andrew Stewart, the less she liked him, let alone wanted to marry him.

It was late and Arabella yawned. James promised to watch over her and walked her back to the shelter that would be her bed for the night. As they walked through the darkness their hands brushed lightly and a spark of electricity passed between them. His heart was beating loudly in his chest and he could hide his feelings no longer. Grabbing at her waist he pulled her close to him, his hot breath on her hair.

Her whole body tingled as she was held, suspended, in the moment of his magical first kiss. His lips found hers with an urgency and fervour that was all consuming. Arabella felt her feet lift from the floor; she was floating on air, her head light and reeling on the heights of passion.

The ache had grown within her and she surrendered softly to his touch. His hands caressed her body, reaching up to find her small and perfectly round breasts. She moaned softly as he gently squeezed and caressed the soft yet firm flesh, yielding under his strong hands.

His lips were demanding on hers as his passion increased; her sweet and innocent mouth tasting like the fruits of heaven. He had never known anything sweeter nor more desirable and he felt himself being swept away on the tide of his own passion.

Yet he stopped, suddenly, pulling himself away from her as if the force were killing him. She was not his to have and was betrothed to another. If he took her she would be damaged goods, it would ruin not only her immediate prospects, but her whole life. His blood was pumping fiercely around his body as if his heart would explode with the sheer frustration, his hands shaking with unspent desire.

Arabella gasped as she opened her eyes. She was breathless from her passion and did not want it to stop. His eyes were dilated and burning deep amber, his face contorted as if he were in pain.

Lifting up her arm she brushed his face softly with her fingertips and a deep tremor shook his body, as if he had been struck by the very force of Mother Nature herself.

“What is it James?” The girl looked up to him, her innocent blue eyes, gentle and trusting.

His voice wavered as he spoke.

“I cannot do this Arabella. You are to be returned to Lord Stewart, to be married to him, and while I hate to think upon it, I do not have the right to take your innocence in this way. If I took you now, I would never be able to let you go.”