Winning the Highlander's Heart (29 page)

His brothers moved around to her other flank.

“Traitor,” she said to the knight who’d run there and back and was huffing a bit.

“Then shoot me because ‘tis me you are angry with,” Malcolm ordered.

“My husband?  Nay, I have already lost too many of my betrothed.  It would be a shame to lose another so quickly.”

A murmur of conversation swept through the five other men who’d joined the brothers to see if they could help.  Probably the most excitement the courtiers had had in a good long while.  Several more watched from the wall walk, leaning over the stone wall and speaking low with one another.  ‘Twas probably good she could not make out their conversation.

“Anice!”

She lowered her weapon to turn and face Malcolm who so rudely stood slightly behind her.  Why didn’t he face her like a man?

As soon as she lowered her weapon, the guard lunged forward and grabbed her bow, Dougald, seized her reins, and Malcolm pulled her from her mount.

She cried out, not from fright, but from surprise, then tried to wrench free.  He hoisted her over his shoulder.  “We have another three hours of sleep before we go to mass, break our fast, and continue our journey.”

“Let me down, you brute!”

“But if you cannot sleep, you can give me a backrub like you promised.”

How could he be so infuriating?  “I will do no such thing.”

“Then I will give you another.”

The men followed them back to the keep and laughed, then shared some comments she couldn’t make out but she was sure it was not in her best interest to hear what was said.  Already her body was on fire she was so humiliated by his actions.  What did he think she was?  A sack of wheat?

A woman hurried to greet Malcolm as he stormed back through the keep to the kitchen.  “His Lord Earl asked me to see if you wanted me to stay with you and the lady the rest of the morn.”

“Nay, the lady and I will be fine, but if we do not wake on time to break our fast, do not allow any to disturb us.”

“Aye, milord.”

The lady hurried away and Malcolm stalked into the storage room.  “I wanted a woman with spice, love.  But you would try the devil’s patience.”  He pulled her off his shoulder, then set her on the bed.  “Stay!”

He slammed the door closed as several milled around to see what happened next and shoved a table against the door.  “You are staying put, until I say so.”

She scowled at him just every bit as good as he scowled at her.  “You did not want me.  I see no point in this.”  She lay down and yanked the blanket over her.

“We are going around in circles, Anice.  I do want ye, but you cannot get that through your head.”  He shrugged out of his clothes, then stalked across the floor and yanked the blanket off her.  “I am only going to do this one more time tonight.”

She crossed her arms, not wanting to expose herself to a man who did not love her.  “I am fine.”

“My wife will not be dressed in monk’s clothes when she sleeps with me.  It would be sinful.”  He pulled her up and quickly dispensed with all her clothes.  “I would leave your shift on, lass, but I mean to show you that nay matter how much I desire to make love to ye, I will not.  We will sleep together as before, like you suggested in the first place.  Naught more.  I am nay such an animal that I could not sleep with ye, as provocative as you are, naked against me.  If that were so, I would have given in to my baser needs when you were sick.”

He was right to an extent, though he couldn’t seem to recognize like she did that he didn’t really want her.

He pulled her onto the blanket on the straw, then wrapped it around them.  Though she thought he intended to sleep beside her, with as little touching as possible, he slipped his arm around her back and pulled her against his body.  No matter how much she resisted the notion he truly wanted her, a Scottish lass, his touch undid her.

She nestled her head against his chest and listened to his quickened heartbeat.  “I am sorry, Malcolm.”

“Aye, lass.”  He kissed the top of her head.

She wrapped her arm around his waist and took a deep breath, loving the feel of his hard body beneath her.

He stroked her back.  “You are much softer to sleep with than my brothers, and you smell a whole lot better.”

She couldn’t help but smile.  “They did not have a bath like we did.”

“Nay, lass.  Sleep.  Everything will look better on the morrow.

She was sure the battle of words would renew.  If the baron caught up with them, it would be a battle of swords and a fight to the death.

Would she lose the fifth of her betrothed husbands then, too?  She would kill any man who attempted to harm him, then she would release him to find the woman he truly wished to wed.

*  *  *

Anice and the MacNeill brothers had barely eaten more than a couple of bites of their bread with Laird Whitehaven that morn when one of the earl’s men charged into the hall with a scowl on his face.  Instantly, Anice grew alarmed.  ‘Twas probably only a problem the earl had to deal with concerning his own estates, but the way the man glanced at her convinced her otherwise.  She’d had no premonition anything was amiss, not until the man arrived so suddenly.  Her heartbeat quickened and the same panic filled her as it usually did when she knew there was danger.  But she couldn’t fathom its source, and worse, she couldn’t stop it from happening.

The hall grew quiet while everyone watched the man stalk toward the head table and Laird Whitehaven.  Before this, she’d heard bits and pieces of conversation about how she had threatened to shoot the gate guard and was hauled back into the castle over her husband’s shoulder.  Had the laird bedded the lass and shown her who was in charge?  ‘Twas what she had heard whispered wherever she walked in the castle and grounds this morn.

The man spoke in private to the earl, who listened intently, then nodded.

The earl rose from his seat.  “Lords and ladies, I must have your cooperation in a matter most grave.  Events have changed rapidly concerning the Lady Anice and her hasty marriage to Lord MacNeill, but you know not the reason.”

Anice’s cheeks grew hot.  He couldn’t mean to tell his courtiers what had happened betwixt her and Malcolm the night of the storm.

“They are attempting to uncover the murder of her uncle.  Much evidence points to the murderer being a suitor of hers, Baron Harold de Fontenot.  He is now at my gatehouse.”

Her heart sank.  She’d hoped they’d be well on their way before the baron caught up with them.  She was certain the earl would take great pains to keep the baron at his castle as long as he could to give Anice and her party a good head start.

A pronounced stirring of conversation rushed through the hall.

The earl waved his hand for silence.  “We aid these young lovers in their quest to uncover enough evidence to support their case.  Until then, naught of this matter will be spoken.  In the interim, Lady Anice is only Lady MacNeill.  As far as we know, Lady Anice disappeared with her escort.”

The earl was truly a friend in their time of need, and she was gladdened to know Malcolm had made so many acquaintances among the Norman lairds.  Especially when they had to fight the baron, also a Norman laird.

Many nodded in agreement.

Malcolm rose.  “I wish to thank ye, Laird Earl, and ladies and gentleman of his court.  We will now be on our way, if we can slip past the baron and his knights.”

The earl turned to Malcolm.  “Gather your belongings and go to the kitchen.  Once I have word you are safely there, I will send for the baron and his men.  You can leave by the kitchen gardens, find your way to the stables, and leave before the baron knows you were here.”

He turned again to his people.  “No one is to mention to the baron or his men that Lord MacNeill and his party were here.”  Then he said to Malcolm, “Go, and keep your bride safe.”

“Aye, that I will.  Thank you kindly for your generosity.”

“Thank ye, milaird,” Anice said before Malcolm hurried her out of the great hall.

Not long after they entered the kitchen, Malcolm’s brothers and Kemp soon followed with their belongings. Anice couldn’t help but feel they were in a race, but no matter their tactics, they could never stay much more than a footstep ahead.  Though they couldn’t kill the baron and his men without just cause, the notion oft crossed her mind.

The maid Elizabeth said to them, “I will inform my Lord Earl you are safely here.  Once the baron and his men are seated in the great hall, I will return and take you to the stables.”

Before anyone could say a word to the young woman, she slipped back into the great hall.

Anice paced, hating to wait, hoping not to get caught.  Though she knew the earl would not allow the baron to harm any of them while they remained at his castle, she wanted to deal with this matter on her own, once and for all.  If the baron and his men left for Brecken with them, might the baron still try to kill Malcolm and his brothers?  When she arrived home, her own men and the MacNeill’s would be a force to reckon with.  But the three MacNeills would be no match for an overwhelming number of the baron’s men on the road there.

Malcolm said, “Anice—”

“I am fine.”

He smiled.  “Aye, that you are.”

“I would feel better if I had my bow and quiver of arrows.”

Dougald chuckled.

She frowned at him.

He gave her a devilish smirk.  “The baron is not only the one who better watch out for you and your bow and arrow.  The gate guard this morning warned Malcolm to be careful how he treated you in the future.  The word is you must have been awfully hard on your last four betrothals.”

“Mayhap if the baron knew this he would reconsider wanting to marry me.”

The maid scurried back into the kitchen, her cheeks flushed.  “There are fourteen men, including the baron, milord, lady.”

“Fourteen.”  Too many for the brothers to handle by themselves—well, and for her of course also.  But still too large a number to consider fighting.  Her stomach clenched when she headed toward the kitchen garden entrance, but the maid halted her.

“I’ll show you the way, milady.”

“’Tis not necessary, good woman.  I used this verra path only several hours earlier—”

The maid bolted ahead of her.  “Oh no, milady, I will be able to tell all the courtiers what happened. 
I
would be part of your adventure then.”

Anice smiled at the poor deluded girl.  Their adventure was far too dangerous to romanticize.  Anice knew the baron wouldn’t recognize her as the Lady Anice, but he would know Malcolm as being the laird who stole his horses.  She’d love to hear the tale he told the earl about this horse-stealing Scottish laird.  Between them, the earl’s courtiers were being well entertained.  Only she preferred the entertainment to be less dangerous.

When they reached the stable, the maid told the man in charge, “The word must be given Lady Anice has not been here, nor has Lord MacNeill.  I will inform the soldiers on guard duty.”

“Also,” Malcolm said as several stablemen began saddling their horses, “Baron Fontenot wishes his horses taken into the village to be reshod.”

Anice stifled the urge to laugh.

“But, milord, he gave orders to have the horses fed and watered and—”

“Tell him when they come to get their horses a man who says he was one of the baron’s knights was ordered to take the horses to be reshod.  He will find them in the village.”

The man glanced at the maid who nodded.  “Aye, His Earl Lord wishes to help Lord MacNeill and his bride.  Lord MacNeill saved the Earl Lord’s life.”