Promise of a Highlander

by Baker, Katy

“Sensitive? Traveler? Are we talking about the same hell-beast?”

  She grinned at him, her eyes full of humor. Ross's breath caught. Lord, she was so beautiful.

  He climbed to his feet. “If ye wish we can go now.”

  Lia pushed back the blanket and stood. She stumbled as if suddenly dizzy. Ross leapt forward and caught her, his hands going around her waist.

  She grabbed his forearms to steady herself. "I...I'm okay," she muttered. "Just stood up a bit too fast I think."

  Ross held her in his arms. Her body was only a hand-span away from his own, so close he could feel the heat radiating from her skin. Her hands rested lightly on his forearms and she made no move to break his hold.

  His breathing quickened. A searing burst of arousal flashed through him, sending heat flooding through his body. He wanted Lia, he realized, wanted her possibly more than he'd ever wanted any woman. He wanted to lay her down on the pallet, kiss her into submission, and make her his.

  But he could not. He'd sworn an oath to protect her, even if that meant protecting her from himself. He released her, taking a step back.

  "This way."

  They stepped out into an early twilight. The gloom beneath the trees meant that night came early to the forest, but the clearing was illuminated by the flickering orange light of the campfire in its center which had been stoked into a blaze on which boar meat was roasting. Many people were seated around it and all turned to look as Ross and Lia emerged.

  Lia hesitated under the scrutiny of so many strangers but said not a word as Ross led her over to the fire and a seat on a log between himself and Archer. The outlaw leader gave Lia a bow.

  "I trust ye are feeling better, my lady?"

  "Much better, thank you," she replied. "I'm grateful for your help."

  Archer waved a hand. "Here." He handed out pottery cups and then poured them each a measure of whisky. "To friends, both old and new."

  He raised his glass and everyone seated around the fire joined him in a toast.

  Two youths that Ross didn't recognize were busy turning the spit on which the boar had been impaled. Juices dripped from the meat to sizzle in the flames and a mouth-watering aroma filled the glade. More and more people drifted to the fire and soon it seemed that the whole settlement had turned out for the feast, crowding onto the logs that had been placed around the fire and when those were full, seating themselves on their cloaks which they laid out on the ground.

  There must be two hundred people here at least. There were a few women and children amongst them but most were young men, driven out of their homes for a variety of reasons and forced to eke out a living in the wilderness. A formidable force if they ever decided to leave their forest hideaway.

  The meat was finally ready and the two youths took their duties of carving it and handing it out very seriously indeed. Archer, as leader of the community, was served first, but Lia and Ross came next as Archer's guests.

  Ross took the platter he was offered with a nod of thanks and began tucking into the meat. With so many mouths to feed there wasn't much, and the feast was poor by Dun Ringill standards, but even so, knowing the hardships these people went through in order to feed themselves and their guests, it tasted better than any food he might be served in some lord's hall.

  He glanced at Lia. She was tucking into her meal with gusto. She’d taken two slices of bread, placed strips of meat between the slices, and ate as though ravenous. When she finished this strange concoction, she mopped up the last of the juices on her plate with a bit of bread. She caught him watching her.

  "What?" she asked with her mouth full. "I told you I was starving!"

  He smiled to himself. Aye, Lia was obviously feeling better. There was a healthy blush to her cheeks and a sparkle in her eye. Ross wasn't quite sure whether this was because of her recovery or from the healthy amount of whisky she'd imbibed.

  Either way, he didn't care. She sat beside him, fit and healthy and full of life. That was enough for him.

  Chapter 11

  Never in her wildest dreams had Lia thought she'd be sitting in the middle of a forest amidst a bunch of criminals eating pork sandwiches. Pork sandwiches! Although technically the meat was roast boar, it tasted much the same, if a little more gamey. It was delicious. Even the whisky tasted good.

  And the strangest thing? She was enjoying herself!

  Around her people were eating, drinking, chatting and laughing and she caught snatches of conversation. Two lads were boasting to their friends about how they'd chased down the boar. A mother was carefully showing her young daughter how to weave strands of wool into a cat's cradle. A group of older men were laughing raucously at a joke whilst the butt of the joke went as red as a beetroot.

  This could have been a feast in any place, any time. The same easy companionship, the same camaraderie. It wasn't at all what she'd expected.

  Ross was busy chatting with Maggie about MacKenzie patrols that had been seen on the eastern border of the forest, and he seemed more relaxed than at any time since she'd met him.

  "He's a good man," said a voice beside her.

  Lia's head whipped round. Archer nodded to Ross. Lia blushed to have been caught watching him.

  "I...um..." she floundered, trying to think of something to say. “Yes, he is.”

  “He’s a useful man to have guarding your back, that I can say.”

  She smiled wryly, “How did you two meet?"

  Archer rubbed the gray stubble that covered his chin. "Now, that is a bit of a story. It was when I was leading a raid along the eastern road on the edge of the forest. We were lying in wait, ready to ambush an arrogant young nobleman who was riding alone along the road. I'd seen the type many times before. Well-dressed, obviously spoiled, obviously full of his self-importance. Easy pickings. Or so I thought. Well, that young nobleman turned out to be a canny fighter and before I knew it he'd disarmed us all and I was sure we were going to die. But, to my great shock, that young nobleman asked to join us."

  He glanced at Ross. "I didn't bloody trust him, of course. None of us did. He was a lord, and we’d taken the measure of noblemen before. He would betray us or run. But Ross did neither. He became one of us, helping to build this settlement, riding out to find honest work when he could and bringing back what little coin he earned. He's saved my life more times than I care to remember. There isnae any man I would rather have guarding my back."

  Lia digested this in silence. The picture Archer painted of Ross was so different to the one Robert MacConnell had. One was an arrogant, drunken womanizer, the other was a man Archer would trust with his life.

  Who was the real Ross MacAuley?

  On the other side of the fire a couple of men rose from their seats carrying instruments. One was a fiddle, the other a guitar-like instrument. Realizing what the two were about, a cheer went up from the crowd. The men began to play and soon people were clapping along or tapping their feet. Lia took another sip of whisky and Archer leaned over to refill her mug. He winked at her.

  "Nothing like a bit of the old bloody fire water to get ye in the spirit, eh?"

  "Spirit? For what?"

  Her question was soon answered. People rose from their seats, formed rings, and began to dance. They linked arms, spun and kicked out their feet at intervals, all in time to the music.

  Lia laughed. The whisky was definitely loosening her inhibitions, and she found herself clapping along. Archer stood, held out his hand to Maggie, and the two of them whirled off into the dance, leaving Lia alone on the log with Ross.

  There isnae any man I would rather have guarding my back.

  He grinned at her, obviously enjoying himself, and the sight sent a thrill right through her. He didn't smile often but when he did, it was like the sun breaking through the clouds. Holy shit, did he have any idea of how handsome he was?

  He held out a hand. "Shall we?"

  Lia blinked. "You want me to dance?"

  "Aye. Why not?"

  Lia glanced at th
e dancers. They were whirling and spinning and kicking in a flurry of moves that seemed extremely complicated. Ross wanted her to join that? She would probably fall flat on her face!

  "I...um...I don't know the moves."

  "Dinna worry. I willnae let ye fall. Trust me."

  Lia looked at him sharply. Trust me. His gaze was clear and honest, free of the shadow that normally lurked behind it.

  She nodded, took his hand, and allowed him to lead her into the thick of the dancing.

  Ross was as good as his word. He guided Lia in the steps, one hand resting lightly on her waist, the other clasping her hand as he led her unerringly through the twisting mass of dancers. Ross moved with a hunter’s grace, seeming almost to glide over the ground and it was obvious he had done this many times before.

  As she got the hang of it, she slowly began to relax. She linked arms with Ross and allowed him to spin her around before another partner caught her arm and sent her whirling. Lia laughed in delight, overtaken by the simple joy of the moment.

  Finally, the musicians came to the end of the tune but immediately struck up another one just as lively as the first. The dancers formed into pairs. Ross reclaimed Lia from a gap-toothed old man she’d been dancing with, placing one of her hands on his shoulder whilst he clasped her firmly around the waist. He was standing incredibly close.

  Lia looked up at him. His amber eyes sparkled with merriment.

  “Ye are a natural, lass. It seems ye’ve quite turned old Angus’s head. I havenae seen him this lively in years! Ready for something a little more complicated?”

  Before she could answer, the dancers lurched into motion. Each pair began a series of complex steps, each moving around the other, then clapping hands and spinning away, only to come together again. Ross led Lia, guiding her with a sure hand. His eyes were fixed on hers the whole time and Lia’s pulse began to quicken from more than the exertion of the dance.

  His hand left her waist only long enough to send her twirling away from him before he grabbed her again and pulled her close, so close their chests were touching. Dimly she heard the music and the clapping and cheering of those watching, but these distractions faded until it seemed that there was just her and Ross, alone in the fire-lit darkness of the forest.

  Too soon the music ended, and the dancers came to a halt, laughing and breathless. Lia stumbled into Ross and he caught her, his arms tightening around her waist. She glanced up at him. The look in his eyes took her breath away. They burned with desire, as hot as the bonfire that hissed and crackled behind them. An answering heat flooded through her, sending a tingle along her spine and across her skin. Ross stared down at her, everything around them forgotten, and a low breath escaped him, hissing from his lips in a soft exhalation.

  “Having a good time are we?”

  The harsh, mocking voice sliced through the hubbub of the feast like a knife. A young man with dark hair curling onto his shoulders stepped into the ring of firelight, leading a small group of others. Their clothing was travel-stained, and they looked weary.

  Archer stepped up to meet the dark haired youth. “Caillin,” he said, hooking his thumbs in his belt. “You’ve been gone a long time. We thought the bloody soldiers had got you.”

  Caillin curled his lip. “Ye should know me better than that, Archer. Although the bastards drove us far out of our way. Here.”

  He unhooked a small leather bag from his belt and tossed it to the ground. From the clinking sound Lia guessed it was filled with coins.

  “That should feed us for a while. I’m glad ye’ve all been enjoying yerselves while we’ve been out there risking our hides.”

  The youth looked around, spotted Ross, and tensed suddenly. Something like fury flashed across his features.

  “What’s he doing here?” he demanded of Archer.

  Archer scowled. “Mind your tone with me, lad. Ross is welcome here, you know that.”

  Ross gently pushed Lia behind him and walked over to Archer’s side. The gathering had fallen quiet and Lia felt a sudden tension in the air, so thick she could almost taste it.

  “I have no quarrel with ye, Caillin,” Ross said. His voice was soft but held an undercurrent of steel. “Sit and take some food. Ye and yer boys look like ye could do with it.”

  “Ye think I would sit and eat with the likes of ye?” Caillin snarled, rounding on Ross with fury flashing in his eyes. “Why have ye come back here? To finish what ye started?”

  Anger flared in Ross’s eyes. “Easy, lad,” he said, his voice still soft and dangerous. “Dinna push yer luck.”

  “Or what?” Caillin flared. “Ye’ll do to me what ye did to my father?”

  With that he pushed past Ross and stomped off into the night. Caillin’s men glanced around nervously, unsure what to do. Nobody spoke. Then Archer cleared his throat.

  “Maggie, give the boys some food and drink and a place to sit.”

  The tension broke and people returned to their conversations. Ross hadn’t moved but stood staring in the direction that Caillin had gone. After a moment he spun on his heel and marched off in the other direction, disappearing into the darkness.

  Lia made to go after him but Archer caught her wrist. “Best to leave him be, lass.”

  Lia returned to her place on the log beside Maggie but found she no longer had much appetite. The musicians struck up another tune but with the arrival of Caillin and his band nobody seemed in the mood for dancing anymore and the gathering was more subdued than it had been. Old Angus slumped down next to Lia and began regaling her with stories of when he was a young lad and served as gamekeeper to one of the border lords. Lia listened politely to his stories of wolves and bandits but her heart wasn’t in it. She kept glancing in the direction Ross had gone, hoping he would reappear. He didn’t.

  Finally, she stood up, mumbled an excuse, and left the fire. Maggie gave her an enquiring look but didn’t try to stop her. Once beyond the ring of firelight the night turned chilly. Wrapping her arms around herself, she paused in the darkness.

  The firelight had ruined her night-vision so she struggled to make anything out, just a sea of darkness punctuated by the odd shaft of light as the moon penetrated the canopy. Where would Ross have gone?

  Then she had it. Ah, of course. She skirted the clearing and came around to the western side, where Deepvale’s horses were kept. Sure enough, as she approached the make-shift corral, she heard the ‘swish-swish’ of a horse being groomed.

  Ross was standing by Traveler, carefully brushing out the stallion’s coat. Around him the rest of the horses—three sway-backed cart horses and a spirited young filly—hung their heads as they drowsed.

  “What do ye want, lass?” Ross said without turning.

  She winced. Damn him! How had he known she was there? His senses were as acute as a hunting cat’s.

  “What do you think? To check that you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine. Return to the feast.”

  The brush went swish-swish, the only sound in the darkness. Lia crossed her arms. Ross’s tension was evident in the hunch of his shoulders.

  “If you’re fine then we can both return to the feast can’t we?”

  He glanced at her and then back to his work without answering.

  Lia threw up her hands in exasperation. “Ross, are you going to tell me what’s going on or do I have to beat it out of you? Who was that youth?”

  Ross sighed. He stopped his work and let his hands drop to his sides. “His name is Caillin Drummond. A hot-head but a good fighter. He was one of my best students, eager to learn, quick to pick things up.”

  “He was your student? Then why did he say those things to you? It sounded like he doesn’t like you very much.”

  Ross looked away, staring out into the darkness. “He doesnae, and with good reason. His father died because of me.”

  Lia blinked at this revelation. “His father? How?”

  Ross clenched and unclenched his fist as though eager to strike something. “I le
d a scouting party. Caillin’s father was part of it. A patrol had been seen getting close to the camp, and it was our mission to find out where they were going and why. We came upon them on the north road. It was a small party, no more than five warriors and I was suspicious immediately. The MacGregor is no fool. He wouldnae have sent out such a weak force so close to outlaw territory. Malcolm Drummond didnae see it that way. He saw a chance to take revenge on the clan that had outlawed him. So, defying my orders, he led four of my party in a surprise attack on the patrol. But it was a trap. Twenty others had lain in hiding and rushed them as soon as Malcolm took the bait. I had a choice: ride to Malcolm’s aid and likely get myself and the rest of my command killed, or retreat, abandon Malcolm and ride back to the camp to warn Archer the MacGregors were coming. I chose the latter. As a result, Malcolm Drummond and the others were captured and executed.”

  Lia wrapped her arms tighter around herself. “And his son blames you for this?”

  At last Ross turned his head to look at her. In the darkness she couldn’t make out his face, only the dim outline of his profile. “Aye. And he is right to do so. It is my fault his father died.”

  “Your fault? What choice did you have?!”

  “It was my command. I should have stopped Drummond.”

  Lia threw up her hands. Lord save her from stubborn men and their damned pride! “Holy crap, Ross, why do you try to take responsibility for everyone else’s mistakes? Has this got something to do with what happened to your brother?”

  She hadn’t meant to say that and as soon as the words left her mouth, she realized she’d said the wrong thing. Ross’s head came up, his nostrils flaring. Something flashed in his eyes. Something dangerous.

  “What do ye know of my brother?”

  She couldn’t take the words back. And, she found, she didn’t want to. She was sick of secrets. Sick of never being on firm footing with him.

  “What do I know? Absolutely nothing because you don’t tell me anything! I only know you have a brother because Robert MacConnell mentioned him—even though you told me you have no siblings!”