by Fiona Faris
However, revenge would be the end of a long road. He was needed as the laird of Cadney Castle, and with no way to get home fast enough and tell his mother of Angus’s fate. He wanted nothing more than to hold her as she cried for her lost husband. He wondered how long he had been in the barn. He understood why Magnus had to leave him behind. They were running for their very lives and having a mortally wounded man with them would have been a dangerous burden. Had they even tried, chances were against Lucas surviving the journey. If Magnus had saved him and brought him here, he had to believe his friend had made it home with the men, and told his mother and Milly of his father’s death. And what of Gavin? His headstrong, battle-ready brother? He had not seen him since the fight, did the lad make it out alive? So many questions needed answering.
He ran his fingers through his red hair, it stood straight up with dirt and grime, oh how he would love a proper warm bath. He heard the door of the barn creak open and slid back down to pretend he was asleep. There was no real reason why he chose not to reveal himself to Ella. If he were forced to admit anything it would be that he was still in a great deal of pain and her sweet voice and stories distracted him. He was afraid if she knew he was awake she would stop talking to him. That was something he wasn’t ready to bear.
“Lucas, I have a special treat for you,” she sang as she entered the back of the barn where their pallets were kept. “Sarah made the most delicious soup from chicken stock and some of the loose fall vegetables. I convinced her to hold some of the broth so that I could warm it for you. After all, now that your fever is lessened I want you to build up your strength.”
The broth she carried smelled delicious, and Lucas couldn’t prevent his stomach from grumbling. He was very hungry. When was the last time I hae eaten anything? he thought.
“Oh,” she said in response to the gurgling in his stomach. “I guess you are in need of something other than willow bark tea.”
She drew close and still smelled of roses, but of something else as well, hearth fire, autumn, and something decidedly feminine. She smelled as if she had been running through fallen leaves. She gently tipped his head back and he allowed it. Slowly she poured the broth into his mouth, and once again her fingers rubbed his throat with a feather light touch as he swallowed the rich soup. He felt a warmth spread in his center that was part broth and part need for her. He hadn’t wanted to touch a woman in so long, he was afraid if Ella didn’t hurry up and finish feeding him he would not be able to control himself.
She poured more of the broth into his mouth, gently. He swallowed every last drop. She moved away to place the empty bowl by the hearth and came back to him. Suddenly he felt a smooth cloth wiping at his chin.
“You’ve only gotten some of it on your face this time,” she whispered. He wondered if she too was having trouble keeping dangerous thoughts at bay. Without thinking he let out a soft moan. She jumped back, letting out a small yelp of surprise as he opened his eyes.
“You’re… you’re awake?” she asked, even though the answer to her question was obvious. Lucas was struck again by her beauty, and for the first time since she’d arrived to save him, he was able to see the depth and density of her grey eyes. They looked like fog curling into the wood on a crisp morn. He had never seen eyes so beautiful, even in that moment as they turned from shock to anger at finding him awake.
“Aye.” He could hear the rasp of his unused voice as he responded to her shocked question.
“And for how long have ye been awake?” she asked, slipping into a slightly refined Scottish accent she must have picked up from being around Fergus and Sarah.
“Long enough tae ken ye’ur a bonnie sassenach lass wi' a strong heart an' a knack for healin',” he said, coughing, but meaning every word. “An' I want tae thank ye for keepin' me alive.” He tried to sit up again so as to face her better.
“No wait, you shouldn’t move so suddenly.” She rushed toward him to help, putting her arms around his center she lifted with him as he moved up on the pallet. She was so close to him he could feel her warm breath on his collar bone. Causing pin pricks of pleasure to rise along his spine.
Before he knew why he was doing it, he grabbed her and crushed her mouth to his. She tasted so sweet like honey and rose, he pushed and teased her lips begging her to open her mouth for him. He yearned to explore more of her. He could tell she had not been properly kissed and it made his heart sing. He wanted to show her pleasure like she’d never dreamed of.
At first, she pushed against his arms, fighting him, the shock of his kiss most likely startled the lass, he thought. But then as quickly as she fought, she relaxed and leaned into his kiss. Her pushing became exploring as she carefully ran her fingers up and down his bare chest. A soft moan escaped her as she opened her mouth further, allowing his tongue to explore, lick, and taste. She touched her delicate fingers to the scratchy red growth of his beard. His manhood began to twitch to life under his plaid. She was more alluring than any strong drink. He deepened their kiss taking more and more of her, and she allowed it. He brought his hands up and clasped the back of her neck, bringing her closer to him. He’d kissed a good many lasses at home in Cadney, but never had he kissed a lass like this. He thought there would be no end to his desire. He pulled from her mouth and trailed kisses down her neck, stopping briefly where her throat met her collar bone. He flecked the sweet hollow with his tongue. God, she tasted like honey everywhere. She moaned again and pressed her body tight against his. She had no idea what she was doing to him.
“Ahh me bonnie lass, I’m afraid I cannae tak' much more of ye,” he moaned into her ear. And as quickly as they had begun, reality sunk in and she pulled away. Staring at him with an unfamiliar look in her eyes, she shocked him for a second time that night when she pulled her arm back and slapped him hard across the face.
“How dare you,” she uttered, climbing down from his pallet. He couldn’t help but laugh at the wee lass. She was filled with so much piss and vinegar, he thought it might be rude of him to point out that less than a minute before hand she had been eagerly enjoying herself.
“Nae, Ella, ye ur right. An' I’m sorry. I should nae hae taken advantage. Ye ur just so sweet. It willnae happen again. I promise,” he said. Rubbing his face from her slap he crossed himself to put a fine tip on his point. “But ye did kiss me back, ye ken,” he added with a wink.
“I most certainly did not, you… you… brut!” He could sense she was angry, but he couldn’t help but smile as she pouted at him with her kiss swollen lips. It was a good thing she pulled away when she did, because even though he was quite certain he didn’t have the strength for it, if their kiss had gone on much longer he would’ve taken her maidenhead right in that barn. What’s come over me, he thought. I’m as randy as a lad.
“Why are you smiling like that?” she asked, with her chin in the air. Lucas knew no matter the answer he gave her she would seethe, so he decided to go with the truth.
“I’m smilin' coz even angrier than a bull ye ur th' most attractive thing I've ever seen, an' all I can think about is kissin' ye again.”
His laughter followed her as she stormed out of the barn. He had no doubt in his mind that he would kiss her again, he just needed to earn her trust. There was nothing he wanted more.
Chapter Seven
Dunkeld, Scotland
“She is gone?” Commander Anton Evans paced the halls of Dunkeld House. A small mason building adjacent to the cathedral where his men had recently ended a Jacobite uprising. He had taken up residence in the run-down house waiting for his betrothed to arrive. He had servants brought in from the town, and a few key members of his garrison stayed in the house with him, although all of the men came and went as they pleased, the ungrateful lot. After the battle he had suffered no casualties from his garrison, and he was quite proud of the damage he had wrought upon the Scottish rebels. Even killing one high ranking clansman himself. And now that little slut, Pearson’s headstrong daughter, was ruining the aftergl
ow of his victory. She had up and disappeared. Regardless of where she was or how she got there, he was determined to bring her back, own her, and break her. “How the bloody hell is she gone!?” he asked to no one in particular.
Pearson’s most trusted footman Richard had shown up in Dunkeld two days previous, and thinking his betrothed was safely ensconced at the Inn in town, Anton had waited before summoning the man to his quarters for an update. He was the highest-ranking British officer left in this hell gone town, and he demanded to be treated with the respect his title afforded him. Only this time his social identity took a great hit. He was shocked to find out the waif had disappeared. Right from under that sniveling footman’s nose.
“My apologies, Commander, she fled or was taken, somewhere between Stirling and Perth. The carriage we were in suffered the loss of a wheel. The girl was safely locked in when we left her. But when the driver and I returned to fix the wheel, the door had been ripped from the hinges, and well, she was gone.”
“SHE WAS GONE!” Anton bellowed. Just like that the little slut disappeared, making him into the biggest fool in all of Scotland. Evans had spent his entire life around women like Ella Pearson. Women who liked nothing more but to make strong men, like him, look foolish in the eyes of their peers. Women who may be small in stature, but had oversized ideas about their role in society and in relationships. His mother was such a woman. Constantly making his father look and feel foolish in front of his men and their servants. Making him a cuckhold, and flaunting her affairs throughout society, all the while leaving his father no choice but to hide his face and retreat from society. Anton would not suffer the same sad fate. He would not be made a fool by a woman the likes of Ella Pearson.
“You’ve seen Ella Pearson, right man?”
“I have, sir,” the footman replied, flinching as Anton raised his voice.
“She is the size of a mouse. You mean to tell me you think her capable of ripping the door from a coach carriage?”
“Sir, had I not seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it, but what I tell you is true. The door was ripped off and the girl was gone. However, there is the possibility she did not abandon you of her own free will.”
“Explain,” Evans said, pacing again and losing patience. He hated theatrical drama and this pasty footman seemed to thrive on it, as he was taking his sweet time getting the point of the matter.
“I found a series of letters, Ella, er, Miss Pearson wrote to her sister while we were traveling,” Richard said, handing the letters to the Commander. “If you take the time to read them you will see, it appeared she had come around to her pending nuptials. Mayhap she didn’t run, and she was taken against her will.” Anton took the letters from the man and after barely a moment flipping through the correspondence, he threw the lot of them into the fire. He didn’t have the time to read lies the girl had put on paper, as a way to further trick the idiot footman.
“Alright, alright. As absurd as it sounds, I will try my best not to doubt you. And you say you circled back to check the path from whence you came? You know a foolish girl trying to escape her fate could only know to try and get back to England, but if she were taken for ransom she could be being hidden in any of the caves or glens around where your carriage went lame.”
“Yes, sir, her footprints headed south, we tracked them for a bit, and it did look like there were more than one set, but then it rained, and we lost the trail. We couldn’t find her anywhere and the driver and I both searched for more than half a night and day before deciding to come straight to you. My apologies sir, but I would’ve told you sooner except you kept us waiting in the inn for near on two days.”
The last dig the footman offered did nothing but anger Anton more. Who was a lowly footman to challenge how he spent his time. A commander is very busy by design, but that was neither here nor there.
By his count he figured Ella had a five-day lead on any search party he could send for her. Even if she had survived that long in the elements, it didn’t mean she was still alive. He also had to consider that any Jacobite retreater could have come upon her and decided to take the girl as his own, killed her, or tried to ransom her off for gold. He should just leave her to her fate, but the idea that she’d run from him caused him to seethe. Curse the little bitch for this. He walked over to the door of the parlor leading to the kitchen where his men liked to hang around hoping for a look up a kitchen maid’s skirt.
“Peters, Smith, and Stewart come here at once!” he shouted, listening to the clamoring of cups and plates as the men ran down the hall toward him.
“Sir, what can we do for you sir?” Peters asked.
“I need you, Smith, and Stewart to scour this blasted countryside and located my missing betrothed. Along the way I want you to round up any Jacobite scum you come across and bring them back to me in chains. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir!” Peters answered. He really did like the young man’s tenacity at taking orders, unlike the other soldiers in his garrison who were only there for the pay and possibility of an elevation in status, Peters seemed to really enjoy the fight. Peters, who was the most senior of the lot and the most vicious of his soldiers, is who he would trust to take the lead on this mission.
“Also, can you send some of the other men in here to clean up this mess?” Anton asked.
Peter looked at him quizzically. “Mess sir?”
“Oh yes, I must have forgotten,” Anton replied. Unsheathing his sword, he slowly walked over to Richard, and placing a hand on the man’s shoulder he thrust his blade through his middle. A look of shock and pain crossed Richard’s face before Anton removed his sword and the man fell to the floor. “Yes Peters, do have someone come clean up this mess.”
“Very good sir,” the soldier said before taking his leave back to the kitchen to carry out his commander’s orders.
Anton’s anger ebbed away at killing the idiot who caused him to lose his bride, but he knew that he wouldn’t be satisfied until Ella was found, captured, and brought back to him.
He would marry her, if it was the last thing he did, but he was smart enough to know it wouldn’t be his last action. No, he would marry the little bitch, that much was true. He slammed his fist down on his desk in frustration. She was making a fool of him, and that could not be tolerated. Once she was his, he would show her what it was like to be used and made to look the fool. He would take her maidenhead and continue to take his pleasure with her until he grew bored. Feeling his frustration ebb with the formation of his plan. Once I’m done with her I’ll simply get rid of her, he thought. She’ll be of no use to me or any other man. Once he was through there would be no point in keeping a useless piece of chattel around. She would learn there were consequences to crossing Anton Evans, and he would take his time teaching her. Smiling to himself, he was pleased. She would pay with her life.
Chapter Eight
At least an hour had passed, and Ella still hadn’t returned to the barn. Lucas was afraid he had scared her off for good after their kiss. He knew she had enjoyed the kiss as much as he did, but not being skilled in such things, she had a right to be upset. He took advantage of the lass, but he didn’t regret kissing her. Nay, not for one moment. The soft feel of her lips against his would warm his memory until he drew his last breath. But he did regret the way he treated her after. He should’ve been gentler and more apologetic. She was a babe in the woods when it came to the ways of love between a man and woman. He certainly shouldn’t have laughed at her while she was so angry. But then again, she did kiss him back. So she wasn’t entirely innocent, he thought, smiling at the memory.
He heard the barn door creak, and prepared himself for Ella to come around the corner and give him another hard slap. This time he would take it like a gentleman. Instead what he got was Fergus.
“Ahh look who decided tae join th' land ay th' livin,” the old man greeted him. Placing a trencher on a table by the fire with some soft cheese and bread. “Th’ missus thought ye mi
ght be wanted somethin’ more hearty than broth.”
“Fergus, how can I ever repay ye fur yer kindness in tendin' tae me wounds,” Lucas said. This was his first full look at the man. He must be sixty if he be a day, Lucas thought. And tendin’ me this whole time. Och. “I owe ye a debt.”
“Think naethin' of it MacGille. We were happy tae be of service, Sarah an' me. However, ye may hae scared th' lassie out of 'er wits. She's in the house fumin’ mad at whatever ye done, lad,” he said.
Lucas could see by his serious expression that he had a small idea as to what he might’ve done, but Ella didn’t tell them everything. Regardless of the old man’s age, had she told them about the kiss, he would be here to either make an honest man out of him or run him through with his dirk, Scottish loyalty be damned. That endeared the old man even more to Lucas. He had no desire to hurt the lass, nay, his desire for her lay elsewhere.
“If she ever comes back tae th' barn, ye can trust old man, I will make amends fur any wrong daein' to the lass, perceived or otherwise,” Lucas promised.