The Highlander's Lady Knight

by Madeline Martin

  Except for Cormac.

  She glanced around the surrounding area. Was he nearby? Had he been injured?

  She saw no one else around them. There were naught but green, open fields, several trees and a nearby hill.

  “Are ye even listening to me?” He shoved his meaty hand against her chin, knocking her helm away and unveiling a bright sun.

  She squinted against the brilliance as her eyes adjusted, revealing Brodie’s wide-eyed shock.

  He stared at her, his mouth hanging open. “Lady Isolde?”

  Senses now returned, she shoved away from him. “Unhand me, you cur.”

  “Was it ye?” He asked incredulously.

  The fresh air swept against her cheeks like heaven but brought the ache in her head to life once more. She winced and took in the small copse of trees nearby. If she could escape into them, she might be able to hide.

  They were not far off from the melee, which was discernible by the clashing weapons and shouts of men. She could run toward the melee as well if she was free.

  She need only be faster than Brodie.

  “Aye.” She glared at him without bothering to hide her disgust and rage. “All this time, it was me. The one who issued the challenge when my brother was too much of a coward to so do. And the one who beat you.”

  Brodie scoffed. “I dinna believe ye. No way could a lass be strong enough to beat me in a fight.”

  “I didn’t say I was stronger than you.” Isolde lifted her chin up and met his gaze with defiance. “But I was far cleverer and much faster.”

  Brodie smacked the back of his hand across her face with a force that made her head snap to the side. Pain exploded where his gauntlet met with the exposed skin of her cheek.

  “Why did ye side with Sutherland?” Brodie demanded.

  Sutherland.

  Cormac.

  No doubt he was still on the field, locked in combat against an unfair number of men.

  Isolde didn’t bother answering. She owed Brodie no explanation. A horse was several paces behind her. If she could get to it, she knew she was swift enough to sweep onto its back and ride away.

  Enraged, Brodie grabbed her by the neck of her surcoat and held her several inches in the air. “I asked why. I demand an answer.”

  “Because he sees me for more than my wealth and noble birth.” Isolde twisted out of Brodie’s grasp and stumbled as her feet met the ground once more. “He respects me for the woman I am and for the strength he knows I possess. He’s an honorable man. The kind of man you’ll never be.”

  Isolde had anticipated her words would anger Brodie. She had not, however, expected his laughter.

  He shook his head. “Ye stupid chit. Do ye have any idea how much ye’ve been fooled?”

  Isolde glared at him. “The only fool here is you if you expect to turn me against my husband.”

  The horse was nearly at her back. Two more steps and she could mount it and ride off. She edged nearer to the beast, putting herself closer to the opportunity for escape.

  Brodie glanced behind her at the horse and grabbed her surcoat, jerking her away from her one opportunity for freedom. “Ye consider yerself cleverer than I, but I’m no’ an idiot.”

  He shoved Isolde to the ground. “The man ye claim loves ye without any of yer dowry approached me this past winter seeking aid to feed his clan.”

  Isolde didn’t bother replying. She knew what Brodie was trying to do and she wouldn’t fall prey.

  “Ye dinna believe me.” Brodie lifted his shoulders and a casual shrug. “It doesna matter—ye’ll find out for yerself if ye ever get to see his clan. If he lives that long. They dinna even have enough food to feed their people.”

  Isolde narrowed her eyes at him. What he said was ridiculous.

  Why then did an uncertain twinge knot in her stomach?

  “What do you intend to do with me?” Isolde demanded.

  “I was going to hold ye for ransom.” A slow grin spread over Brodie’s face. “But now, I think I’ll return ye to yer brother and let ye confess what ye’ve done. In the meantime, I’ll ensure ye become a widow, so ye are free to follow through on your brother’s contract that we wed.”

  In the distance, a rider approached on a black steed. Not just any rider. One wearing a red-and-yellow surcoat with stars.

  Cormac.

  Her heartbeat quickened. He’d come for her.

  She kept her stare purposefully locked on Brodie to ensure she didn’t alert him to Cormac’s presence.

  “I’ll refuse to marry you,” Isolde swore.

  Brodie rolled his eyes, his patience evidently at its end. “Ye willna have a choice. Yer brother will force—” He paused, evidently listening intently and glanced behind him.

  Before Isolde suspected what he might do, Brodie yanked her back against him and put a blade to her throat. “I’ll kill her rather than allow ye to take her.”

  Cormac approached and drew to a stop several feet away. He ripped off his helm, his eyes wild. “If ye harm her, I’ll no’ rest until every member of yer family is slain.”

  “Tell her, Sutherland,” Brodie said. “Tell her how ye wed her for her dowry.”

  Isolde’s heart caught in her chest.

  “Release my wife,” Cormac growled.

  “Confess,” Brodie barked harshly.

  “This isna any of yer concern.” Cormac looked to Isolde, his features drawn tight.

  Brodie chuckled cruelly. “Because ye dinna want to confess the truth of it. How yer people have no food and are starving. How ye’d do anything to get it for them, even steal a betrothed lass from another man.”

  This time, Cormac didn’t reply.

  Isolde’s head ached, and her mind spun. “Cormac…tell him that isn’t true.”

  Cormac’s gaze lowered. Guilty. He looked guilty.

  Isolde’s chest squeezed painfully.

  It couldn’t be true.

  Could it?

  “That was before I knew ye,” Cormac said. “Before I realized—”

  “She’s heard enough.” Brodie pulled her backward with him toward the horse. “I’ll be returning her to her brother.”

  She didn’t fight Brodie this time, not when she was so numb. And what did it matter? At least Brodie had been honest about his intentions with her.

  Tears burned in her eyes, and emotion knotted hard at the back of her throat.

  Cormac had sought her out for her dowry. He had used her, just like every other man tried to. Only he had lied to her about it and made her think he saw her as more than a dowry.

  She had believed him, and he had offered her a feigned love. She had been the greatest of fools. And now she would pay a steep price.

  Cormac was losing Isolde. Not just to Brodie, who was dragging her away with a blade at her neck, but by the tears streaming down her face. Cormac’s arm ached from where Brodie had struck him, but it was nothing compared to the agony of her thinking he’d betrayed her.

  He couldn’t lose her. Not like this. He’d just as soon allow his heart to be cut from his chest than have his wife dragged away from him in such a manner.

  “Remove yer hands from my wife,” Cormac bellowed from the depths of his soul.

  “Ye dinna want him, do ye?” Brodie hissed into Isolde’s ear.

  She gritted her teeth and tears welled in her eyes with a look of such hurt that it cut him to the quick.

  “I love ye, Isolde,” Cormac cried.

  A sob choked from her lips.

  “I love ye,” he repeated. “I did when I asked ye to wed me, and I do now still. I always will.”

  Tears streamed down her face.

  “Brodie was correct when he said we dinna have enough food,” Cormac said. “Blair is a lad I grew up with. He starved to death so that his wee son could live. Ines was an old woman who cared for others. She distributed her portions so quietly through the people that we dinna know what she’d been doing until the day she was found dead in her home, so skinny she weighed no
more than a child.” A knot formed in the back of his throat as he spoke of his people and what they had suffered. “Ewan and Gregor were two lads whose mother died early on, but they dinna want to tell anyone. They were found dead in their hut, their mouths green from the grass they’d eaten to assuage their empty bellies.”

  Tears blurred Cormac’s vision, but he didn’t care. “I have watched my people starve. I have seen my friends die. I did go to the Ross clan seeking aid. Aye, I’d do anything to save my people.”

  “Even marry me,” Isolde choked out.

  He winced. “I’m honored to marry ye, Isolde. I came here seeking yer hand for coin. Aye, Brodie’s right about that. But that isna why I asked ye to marry me.”

  Brodie pushed the blade harder to her throat.

  “I was going to walk away from ye,” Cormac confessed. “I was willing to sacrifice something I knew could save my people—yer dowry—out of respect and care for ye.”

  “But ye dinna,” Brodie sneered.

  Cormac wasn’t looking at his adversary anymore. His entire attention was focused on Isolde. “My brother opened my eyes to the realization that I wasn’t using ye. Because it wasna yer dowry that I wanted.” He leapt down from his horse. “It was ye.”

  “Dinna come any closer,” Brodie warned.

  “I respect ye, Isolde.” Cormac ensured his right arm was obscured by his horse. “I love ye.” He paused and let the impact of his words sink into his own soul. “I promised ye one thing, do ye remember?”

  She nodded, and a silent tear ran down her cheek.

  He’d vowed to protect her, and he would do it now. He tilted his head discreetly to the side.

  Isolde gritted her teeth and knocked the blade away from her neck with her forearm as she darted away. At the same time, Cormac loosed the dagger he was holding and sent it sailing toward Brodie.

  The eldest Ross brother had never been particularly dexterous, having always relied on his strength instead. It was to his detriment now. The blade sank into his neck, and a gush of blood spilled over his armor, staining the surcoat crimson.

  Isolde ran to Cormac and threw herself in his arms. He cupped her chin and gently lifted it, carefully examining her tear-stained face to confirm she had not been injured.

  “I love ye, Isolde,” he said vehemently.

  “And I love you,” she replied.

  Such beautiful, sweet words. He closed his eyes against the emotion of them and pulled her against his chest, favoring his injured arm. “Dinna come out to any more fights looking to save the likes of me though, aye?”

  “You know I cannot promise that,” Isolde said against his surcoat.

  Cormac chuckled to himself and stroked his gauntlet over her hair, hating the thick leather and steel separating them. Aye, he did know that, but it didn’t mean he’d ever stop asking.

  “I’m sorry about your people.” She lifted her head. “You should have told me.”

  He wiped away her tears. “Ye mean woo ye with my people’s plight rather than my fine dancing?”

  A smile broke over her lips. “Actually, I think it was how you complimented my breasts upon our first meeting that won my heart.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He winked at her.

  Her gaze slid to where Brodie lay face-down in a pool of blood on the ground. “What should we do about him?”

  “It’s no’ uncommon for battles to extend beyond the melee lines any more than it is uncommon for men to die. He’ll be found, and his family can provide a proper burial.” Cormac looked to the hill where the melee went on in full force. “Let us ensure Graham is safe.”

  They left the knight’s horse and took only Brodie’s beast and rode together up the hill to survey the melee. Several more of the Ross clan had fallen while Graham, Lachlan and Duncan gained ground.

  “We should go to them,” Isolde said.

  We.

  Meaning Isolde would be back in battle once more.

  Cormac frowned. “Graham is a strong warrior and flanked by Lachlan and Duncan, the remaining men can be handled. I’ll send Alan in my stead. Let us leave this place and return to Sutherland.”

  “I should like to go first to see my brother. I ought to return his armor to him.” She surveyed the melee before them. “And there is something I wish to say to him as well.”

  “Aye, of course.” Cormac turned the horse in the direction of the castle and rode back toward the Rose Citadel with Isolde.

  With most people occupied by the daily activities and the excitement of the melee, they were able to make it into the Rose Citadel without being seen by many. Not that it mattered. They would be gone within the hour.

  Alan stood outside Isolde’s chambers with Pip, who barreled toward her in unhindered excitement. The dog bounced about on his forelegs in an effort to clamber up her greaves in his eagerness to greet her. Cormac didn’t bother to chastise Alan for Pip’s lack of training, not when laughter came from beneath Isolde’s helm.

  The door to Isolde’s rooms opened, and Matilda exclaimed with delight to see her mistress returned.

  Isolde entered her chamber and Cormac pulled Alan aside. “Gather my belongings from the tent, then prepare yerself to join Graham and the others on the battlefield. I have Brodie’s horse, but Lady Sutherland will need one. Once the melee has concluded, tell my brother I will see ye both in Sutherland.”

  Graham knew that there was the possibility that Cormac and Isolde would leave the tournament early per their discussion the prior day. Alan had proven himself to be a skilled fighter, and Cormac knew he would ensure Graham remained safe.

  “I supposed I’ve been helpful to ye after all, eh?” Alan scratched his jaw. “And that means you’ll be needing me in Scotland too.”

  Cormac put a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Ye’ve done well, lad.” He gave Alan’s shoulder a light shake. “But dinna get cocky about it.”

  “Absolutely not.” Alan’s eyes twinkled. “But take Pip with you. I know my lady will treat him well, and I’ll see him when I join you in Sutherland.”

  “He’s yer dog,” Cormac said.

  “Aye, he is. Consider it job security.” Alan grinned and departed to prepare Cormac’s horse and belongings.

  Cormac entered the suite of rooms and found Isolde in her bedchamber wearing only the gambeson. She broke free from Matilda, who was helping her remove her armor, and ran into his arms.

  He caught her and cradled her to him, relishing the feel of her with him once more. “Thank ye for believing in me,” he said earnestly.

  “Thank you for explaining yourself.” A shadow crossed over her eyes. “I thought…I thought you didn’t....”

  He put a finger to her lips to still the words from spilling from her lips and met her gaze. “I love ye, Isolde.” He cupped her face in his hands. “My wife, my love.”

  He pressed a kiss to her brow and noticed Matilda slip from the room, drawing the door closed behind her.

  “I love you, Cormac.” Isolde curled her arms around his neck, and her lips found his once more.

  He pulled free the ties of her gambeson, and the tip of her tongue grazed his lower lip. Desire slammed into him. He desired her, desperate to show her with every part of his body how much he loved her, worshipped her, needed her.

  His heartbeat quickened as he slid her gambeson from her shoulders, revealing the thin linen beneath. A band of white binding had been wound around her breasts.

  The energy from the battle still coursed through his blood, hot and ready. His prick stirred with longing as he drew off her linen sark.

  She gave him a languid smile that made his cock even harder. “What are you doing?”

  “Planning to show ye how much I love ye.” He loosened the end of the binding around her chest and slowly unraveled the linen from around her bosom.

  Her only reply was a soft moan as she melted against him and worked at the ties of his chainmail.

  Isolde was not plagued by fear as their horses came
to a stop in front of Easton Castle. Her brother had come out to greet them, having no doubt been notified of their arrival by one of his soldiers. The sun cast a brilliant glint of gold that day, forcing Gilbert to squint up at her where she remained on horseback. Pip had been trotting alongside her and now gave a low growl at the earl.

  Gilbert tossed the dog a sneer of disgust, then shifted his attention back to Isolde. “I hope you’ve come to beg my forgiveness for what you’ve done.”

  “Ye should be begging for hers,” Cormac said from where he sat on his horse behind Isolde.

  “I’ve come to return your armor.” She slid off her steed and eyed her brother. Pip immediately settled protectively in front of her. “But I will offer no apologies for what I was forced to do by your cowardice.”

  Gilbert’s mouth opened to protest, but Isolde continued speaking, “’Tis you who has greatly wronged not only me, but also our country.”

  His eyes narrowed. “How dare you speak to me with such impertinence?”

  Cormac leapt down from his horse to stand beside Isolde. “How dare ye speak to her with such condescension after everything ye’ve done to her?”

  The earl squinted up at Cormac. “You forget yourself, Brodie.”

  “I’m no’ Brodie,” Cormac replied.

  Gilbert stepped closer and peered up at Cormac, lifting his palm to shield the glare of the sun. “All you Scotsmen look alike,” he muttered. “Where is Brodie, and who is this man?”

  “I’m Cormac Sutherland, Chieftain of the Sutherland clan,” Cormac replied. The note of authority and confidence in his voice made Isolde’s back straighten with pride. He looked at her and took her hand in his. “And husband to Lady Sutherland.”

  Gilbert’s beady stare bounced between them, his confusion evident. “What has happened? Where is Brodie?”

  “Brodie is dead,” Isolde replied. “And whatever arrangement you worked out with him should be stopped and buried with him. I know exactly what you’ve done.”

  Her brother glanced around nervously. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re speaking of. Come inside so that we might have a proper conversation.”