Anger flashed in her brilliant, green eyes. Chest heaving, she jerked her arm loose. “I’m neither one of your men nor a child! You’ve no right to order me about.”
In an instant, he caught her around the middle and hauled her close until she stood on her tiptoes, the top of her head just beneath his chin. The soft mounds of her breasts pressed into his chest and her small, fisted hands pushed at his shoulders. The fit of their bodies was naught short of perfection in his mind.
Color stained her cheeks a bright pink, while a storm of defiance brewed in her scorching gaze. Saints, she was beautiful. A sudden flux of lust battled his temper, directing the blood in his body southward in response. God help him, but wanted to kiss the anger out of her, right there in front of his men.
He ducked his head closer, his mouth within a hairsbreadth of hers. “You’ll not speak to me in such a manner in front of my men ever again. If you take issue with an order I’ve given, then we can settle it without an audience. Understood?”
She answered with a slight narrowing of her eyes. Calum dropped her flat on her feet and whirled away to mount his horse. Once he crossed the camp and vaulted into his saddle, he worked on steadying the frantic thrum of his heart. Though he would not suffer her disrespect, he quite enjoyed her display of temper. In fact, the depth of fire in her aroused him beyond belief.
He sat astride his mount, observing Arabella’s every movement, amused at her huffing and stomping. When she stood at her gelding’s side, adjusting the stirrups, he decided to make a move. Nudging his stallion into a trot, he rode up alongside her. When he drew near, he seized her under the arms and hoisted her onto his lap. Her loud gasp rent the air and she twisted to face him, aiming a wrathful glare his way.
Struggling not to laugh at the enraged kitten in his arms, he forced a stern look. “You’ll ride with me so you do no further harm to your feet.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but he lifted a brow, daring her to speak. The saucy, little lass dared to roll her eyes, shrug her dainty shoulders, and tuck his mantle around her. She wiggled her lush bottom on his thighs, adjusting her position, and he tightened his hold to cease her writhing. Of course, she would’ve stopped if she’d realized just how achingly hard he’d grown beneath her. With a grumbling sigh, she fell back against his chest with a hard thud. Undoubtedly, ’twas going to be a long ride.
*
Slowing his stallion’s gait to a walk, Calum stretched in the saddle and adjusted his hold around the female in his arms. Much to his astonishment, Arabella slept straight through the day’s bone-jarring ride. Not that he was complaining. Without his worry for her, much of the day passed in a haze, aside for a handful of short breaks to attend personal matters and water the horses.
He glanced down at her sleeping profile and grinned. With one arm slung around his waist and the other resting on his chest, she slept on undisturbed, unaware the day drew to an end. He shook his head and tucked his mantle beneath her chin. What a paradox she was.
From her appearance, she was small, delicate, and incapable of taking care of herself by his estimation. But the more time he spent in her company, he learned there was naught small or delicate about her. Her fierce sense of pride would rival that of any hardened warrior. And stubborn…the woman possessed a streak of stubbornness long enough to span the Scottish coast. She kept her own counsel and refused to accept aid when offered. Both of which irritated him worse than Liam’s careless disposition.
Since he’d set eyes on the woman, Fraser’s ridiculous proposition continued to circle in his head. For the longest time, he adamantly rejected anything to do with the sanctity of marriage. Years ago, once he’d healed from his wounds and grief, he accepted a suit with another chieftain’s daughter for the sake of his clan, but one look at his scarred face and the lass had begged her father to release her from the match. He’d called on every scrap of dignity he held to hold his head high. Quite simply, he refused to consider another arrangement after one failed attempt.
Until now, that is.
If he was completely honest with himself, he yearned for a good, loyal woman to spend his life with—a relationship akin to the one his mother and father had shared. But, he knew better than to delude himself into believing such was possible. Nay, marriage was not for him. Moreover, not to the enticing beauty in his arms. Unable to resist, he bent his head and placed a chaste kiss on her temple as she slept on.
’Twas a short time later when they drew near the campsite Symon had scouted for the eve. Calum nudged at Arabella to wake her. To his utter relief, his first shake awakened her from her slumber. Relaxed as a contented cat, she rubbed her forehead against his neck, yawned, and peered up at him with sleepy eyes and a shy smile that would melt any man’s resolve.
Inhaling the faint scent of roses, he longed to bury his nose in her bright red tresses. He swallowed down the sudden lump in his throat. “We’ll be stopping to make camp soon, and there’s a loch close by as well.”
“I slept all day?” She blinked, her heavy-eyed features transforming into alarm. “You should’ve woken me.”
A delightful blush crept over her cheeks before she ducked her head.
“Do not worry yourself, lass,” he spoke near her ear. “You needed the rest which was another reason I wished you to ride with me.”
Her flush deepened to a shade of crimson. She lifted her head, meeting his gaze in earnest. “I truly regret my behavior this morn, Calum. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Her bright eyes held him in thrall. How had he missed the wee flecks of amber? With a mental shake, he focused on her words.
“There’s naught to forgive. Just know I’ll never give an order without sound reason, Arabella. You’ll have to trust me in this.”
For long moments, her deliberate gaze studied him as though she measured his words…measured his worth as a man. Apprehension itched along his spine, forcing him to shift in the saddle. Powerless to break her stare, he waited and his grip tightened on the reins.
“I do not know why, but I do. Trust you, that is.” With a nod of her head, her intense gaze slipped away, breaking the spell. “Tell me, is your clan very large?”
Immediate relief filled out his tense muscles and put him at ease. Elated by her admission, he almost laughed. “Nay, but ’tis ample enough for me.”
“How long have you led your clan?”
“A little more than twelve years now.”
Arabella twisted to look at him. “But you seem so young.”
“I was sixteen when my father was slain.” Calum shrugged. “I had little choice in the matter.”
Her gaze softened. “I’m truly sorry for the loss of your father.”
“’Twas long ago.” He offered her a faint smile. “Truth be told, things could’ve been much different had Fraser not helped me through such a dark time.”
One of the many reasons Calum found himself in the man’s debt.
“Uncle Hammish?” she asked in surprise.
“Aye, the very same. You see, he and my father were close friends for many years. When my father died, I sank into despair, but Fraser stood by my side, supporting me through the troubling time. Despite his bluster and foul temper, Fraser’s an honorable man. Probably one of the most honorable I’ve known.”
“He truly has a good heart.” Arabella laughed, a low tinkling sound. “Though, I’m sure he’d rather run someone through than hear them speak of him so, but it shall be our secret.”
She winked, wringing a chuckle out of him. He drew her back against his chest, and they fell into a comfortable silence as they made their way through the surrounding wood.
At the campsite, he brought his stallion to a halt and dismounted, then reached for Arabella. He held on to her upper arms until she gained her legs. Faith, he needed a chance to gain his, too. As he gazed at her rosy, upturned face, his own knees felt weak and shaky. Christ above, she’s making me daft.
Calum peered over her head to his men preparing the
camp for the eve. He reminded himself their journey was not one of leisure but borne out of necessity. Their welfare depended on learning the details of her brother’s death and her captivity. He could not protect her if he knew not what he and his men might face.
“Arabella…” Her soft smile gave him pause. “I do not wish to upset you, but for your sake and my men’s, I need to know what happened at Penswyck and to Iain.”
Her slight smile dropped into a frown. She wrung her hands together in front of her. Biting her bottom lip, she nodded. “I understand. Allow me to see to Devlin and refresh myself first, then I shall tell you.”
As soon as he released her arms, she rushed across camp to her gelding. The distress marring her features unsettled him. What bothered him the most was the knowledge he caused the look. When she was out of sight, he wheeled around, leaned his forehead against his saddle, and shut his eyes.
Jesu, he could not remember a time when his thoughts had been in such a state of disorder. And all because of one small, troublesome bundle of a woman. He banged his head against the stiff leather a few times in an attempt to gain his lost wits. A handful of deep breaths and a sore head later, ’twas safe to admit his good sense might forever be lost.
Over his shoulder, loud whispers drew his notice and he turned to see his men gathered in the middle of camp. Curious, Calum strode over to join the group. What captured their attention made his jaw sag.
Arabella leaned against that offensive beast she called a horse, feeding him apples, tousling his mane, and cooing near the gelding’s ear. The same demon-horse whose temper he and his men witnessed earlier in the day.
That morning, once he had Arabella settled on his mount, his cousin endeavored to tie her gelding to his own for the day’s journey. It’d taken a nasty bite from the animal, plenty of chase, and a distraction from Gregor before Liam accomplished the feat. Now the wretched creature docilely hung its head and nuzzled his mistress’ shoulder.
Calum snorted. Hell, he would do more than nuzzle her shoulder if she’d ruffle his mane and coo at him like that.
When Arabella noted she’d gained the curious stares of his men, she lifted her shoulder in a dainty shrug. “He’s fond of apples.” She gathered her belongings from the saddlebag along the animal’s side. “Which way to the loch?”
Speechless, Calum lifted his hand to point in the general direction. As soon as she disappeared into the forest, Liam cast him a disbelieving look.
“That blasted devil bit my hand this morning!”
His cousin marched toward the horse, pausing a few steps away. With an obstinate glare and his hands planted on his hips, Liam took measure of the enemy. Guarded, he reached out a caution hand to brush over the beast’s muzzle.
“I knew it!” Liam grinned as he stroked the horse’s nose. “He’s all bluster.”
Where Calum stood, the gelding looked as though it might breathe fire at any moment. Before he could call out a warning, the horse pinned his ears and struck, delivering a sound bite to his cousin’s hand.
Liam howled in pain and cradled his hand. “You insufferable beast!”
In a sudden burst of movement, the animal lowered his head and rammed into Liam’s chest. Caught unaware, Liam toppled over and landed flat on his back, stirring a cloud of dust around him. The gelding released a loud whiny, then trotted away to join the other horses settled on the edge of camp.
A bark of laughter tumbled out of Calum, cutting through the men’s stunned silence. Moments later, his men followed suit. Weak from laughter, he staggered across the clearing to his felled cousin.
Extending his hand to offer assistance, he could not resist adding, “I guess you showed him who’s master, eh?”
Liam glared up at him and slapped his hand away. His cousin pushed to his feet and stomped into the forest. The entire way, he spat out a steady stream of curses and kicked at the undergrowth until he disappeared from sight.
Calum continued to laugh until his sides hurt. He may dislike Arabella’s wretched devil of a horse, but at least the beast was good for a laugh. Even if ’twas at his cousin’s expense.
Chapter Seven
Arabella paused on the edge of the clearing and studied the Highlanders settled around the campfire. They appeared calm and relaxed but, without a doubt, they would draw their swords at a moment’s notice. Most women of her station would balk at the notion of traveling in such company without a lady’s maid, but these warriors had been naught but kind to her. She feared not for her virtue or, more importantly, her life. The same could not be said of her last days at Penswyck.
She fixed her attention on Calum, who stared at the flames in front of him as if he had not a care in the world, but she knew better. He waited for her.
Though she had no liking for the task ahead, he’d asked for her tale and so he would have it. Gathering her courage, she paced closer to the glow of the fire, rustling fallen leaves beneath her feet. Despite the fading dusk, Calum locked his gaze on her, and a tight knot formed in her chest.
She eased down onto a fur he’d spread on the cold earth beside him. The fare Gregor cooked wafted through the air, drawing a rumble from her empty stomach. The crackle of burning wood and the chilly breeze stirring the leaves overhead filled the silence. Firelight threw shadows of the men against surrounding trees as the last sliver of daylight retreated below the horizon. Her gaze moved from man to man, taking in their solemn faces.
For the past fortnight, she struggled with her grief and heartache, choosing to bury her sorrow until she reached safety. Crumbling into a sobbing heap would not have gotten her down that wretched castle wall, much less out of England. She did not wish to speak of what occurred for fear of subjecting herself to a flood of anguish, but Calum and his men deserved to know the truth. Even if she was in some part to blame for Iain’s death.
Arabella inhaled a deep breath of cool air, allowing the chill to settle in her lungs. She glanced at Calum. “I shall tell you what you wish to know.”
Nodding, he plucked a tree limb from the ground and poked at the fire. All of the men averted their gazes from her. Without the weight of their stares, she relaxed enough to begin her tale.
“Geoffrey Longford is the man responsible for Iain’s death and the capture of Penswyck.”
“Iain’s dead?” Liam’s stunned exclamation rent the air.
Calum held up a hand. “Let her speak.”
“Why did you not tell me?” Liam demanded.
“I said, let her speak.” Across the campfire, Calum pinned his cousin with an immovable stare. “We’ll discuss it later.”
An unreadable look passed between the pair before Liam muttered beneath his breath and slid his gaze to the dark forest. From his shaken response, he must’ve counted Iain as a friend as well, which did not surprise Arabella.
With such an affable nature, many counted her brother a close friend. As a young girl, she’d envied Iain’s wit, charm, and the ease with which he made acquaintances. Because of her quiet temperament and propensity toward mischief, she often found herself alone. Though, Iain had always been there for her.
When Iain presented her at Court a few years past, the dreadful affair made her head spin. The latest fashions, childish games, or any other silly pursuits of noble young ladies held little interest for her. Mercifully, her brother understood her plight and never forced her to attend Court again. Instead, she spent her days trailing after him and Dougal, learning of bows, horses, and the inner workings of Penswyck. Was it any wonder she had few friends?
“How do you know he’s Iain’s murderer?” Calum’s quiet-spoken question dragged her from her idle thoughts.
“Talbot, one of my brother’s soldiers. You see, Iain left a sennight before with Longford on an errand for the king. Talbot said they were ambushed along the way. In the midst of battle, Longford and his men suddenly joined the enemy and attacked Iain. Talbot bore witness as Longford drove a sword into Iain’s back. Somehow, despite a gaping chest wound, the
soldier survived the journey to Penswyck to warn me of Longford. By then, ’twas too late. Longford’s men overran the castle two days later.”
“If this man, Talbot, witnessed the foul deed, then surely you could approach your king with the truth and reclaim your family’s lands,” Liam proposed.
Arabella shook her head. “Talbot barely escaped with his life, then spent two days racing to Penswyck to warn me. By the time he arrived, his wounds had festered.” She cleared the lump from her throat. “He passed the following morning.”
A tug on her tunic sleeve pulled her from her tale. She glanced down to see a large hand holding out a skin of water beside her. She accepted Calum’s offering and stole a peek at him. His face gave naught away as he continued to stare into the flames.
Symon spoke up. “Why would Longford kill your brother?”
“Greed. He coveted Iain’s fortune and lands.” After a drink of cool water, she hesitated before softly mumbling, “I should’ve just wed Longford.”
“What?” Calum’s surprised bellow boomed in her ear. “Why would you wish to marry the arse?”
Scowling, she met his furious stare. “I have no wish to but if I’d simply accepted his suit, then Iain would still live and I would not be sitting here now.”
He lifted a cynical brow. “Do you honestly believe that?”
“’Tis true,” she insisted. “When Longford approached my brother with the match, I begged Iain not to allow it. I did not trust Longford. Something about him…frightened me. As soon as I told Iain how I felt, he denied Longford’s suit without a second thought.” A smile tugged her lips, remembering her brother’s kindness and understanding. “Iain allowed me certain liberties. Choosing the man I wed was one of them.”
The men said naught but Gregor frowned, no doubt surprised by the notion.
Few women had a say in matters of marriage, but Iain had left the choice to her. She counted herself fortunate to have had such a loving brother. He’d wished for her to secure a suitable match, filled with love and happiness, much like their mother and father. If only she’d realized then the foolish pursuit of love would cost her Iain’s life.
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