His Bonnie Bride

by Hannah Howell

  Although the chance of success was dim, Tavis whirled his horse around and raced for the besieged keep. If he could get near the walls of Caraidland, there were ways to get back in. There was no chance of getting to Athdara, but perhaps he could return to Caraidland, thus saving them the painful loss of yet another man. When they did not immediately loose an arrow his way, his hopes rose, for he realized that Sir Hugh had ordered that anyone trying to slip away was to be brought back alive.

  He could see the watch fires of Caraidland when the men chasing him suddenly called out. Two more men appeared in the road directly in front of Tavis as if by magic, and he realized that Sir Hugh had set a guard at several points along the road. The sudden appearance of two horsemen caused Tavis's horse to rear. His own surprise contributed to Tavis's lack of control and he was thrown. As he hit the ground, his last thought before blackness engulfed him was of Storm.

  * * * * *

  Storm lay in exhausted sleep crowded upon a pallet with Maggie. When night fell and the fighting had ceased the work had shifted from tending the wounded to feeding the men. Maggie had urged her to seek her own bed, but Storm had refused. She wanted to be near the wounded who might need her, near the battle so that she could know when and if it changed in any way and near Tavis. Maggie had ceased arguing and let her stay.

  Suddenly, Storm sat up, Tavis's name upon her lips. She wrapped her arms around herself as she shivered, the cold chill of foreboding she so detested seeping into her bones. Careful not to wake Maggie, Storm rose from the pallet. She had to find Tavis and assure herself that she was only suffering from nerves and exhaustion, that he was all right and not in any real danger. Being caught in the middle of a battle could easily make her see danger and tragedy where none existed.

  The battlements were lined with women as well as men. Wives, lovers, daughters and mothers stood watching in their men's place while they lay sprawled at their feet in exhausted slumber, still in full battle array. If it were not for the lack of fighting men, such arrangements would never be allowed, but the men knew that the women's eyes were as keen as theirs and that, if trouble came, the men would be ready, sending the women off the battlements. This way the men could catch some much needed sleep and be more ready to face the battle at the sun's rising.

  Pausing by Jeanne, who held the watch for her betrothed, Storm asked, "How goes it, Jeanne?"

  " 'Tis a verra great bore. I cannae help but wonder how fit for battle Sir Hugh's troops will be, for 'tis a wild and noisy revel agoing on at their camp. Can ye hear it?"

  "Aye," Storm replied with a grimace. "I suspect 'tis my father's wife. She has a fondness for orgies."

  "What's an orgy? 'Tis sinful, eh?" asked Jeanne in undisguised interest.

  Nodding, Storm elaborated. " 'Tis a whole group of men and women drinking and wenching together. Lady Mary prefers the men to outnumber the women. 'Tis naught but lust and lasciviousness."

  "Never," breathed Jeanne, her eyes wide with fascination and horror.

  "Aye, lass," came a sleepy voice from behind their feet. " 'Tis a fitting description." Ignoring the gasps of embarrassment from the ladies, Jeanne's betrothed asked, "Does she really hold orgies?"

  The dark erased most of Storm's discomfort. "Aye. She held them often at Hagaleah. I would lock myself in my chambers with my old nursemaid, Hilda, and a few maids who were not interested in joining such revels."

  "Did ye ne'er keek at such goings on?" asked Jeanne, nudging her lover with her toe when he chuckled.

  "Of course not," Storm replied haughtily. "Why should I wish to see naked people bathing in milk and doing lewd things in nearly every room in the keep?" She turned to walk away, but Jeanne halted her.

  "Did they really bathe in milk? Stop that tittering, Robbie."

  "Aye, they did. I did see that, and a fair bit more, that I'll ne'er tell ye, afore Hilda caught me and dragged me back to my chambers by my hair." She left the young couple laughing softly.

  It took her a while to find Sholto, Iain and Colin. The latter two were asleep, but Sholto stood staring out over the battlements. What immediately struck Storm was that he spent as much time staring toward Athdara as he did at Sir Hugh's encampment. She wondered if he expected the momentary arrival of aid from their old allies or the expedient return of all the men they had sent out.

  "Ye shouldnae be up here, Storm," Sholto admonished gently. "Ye should be getting some rest."

  "Where is Tavis, Sholto?" she asked, not liking the way he avoided looking directly at her.

  "He maun be off sleeping," he mumbled, staring out toward the sounds of revelry.

  "Sholto, I have looked everywhere and cannot find him. Please, Sholto, where is he?"

  "I dinnae ken," he snapped, but then sighed when he caught her expression, which was a mixture of crestfallen and determination. "Here now, lassie," he said gently as he put an arm around her and drew her to his side, "Tavis is a grown man. Ye need nay fear for him."

  "Ye do not understand. I woke up so cold and calling his name. 'Tis not a good sign. Please, Sholto ..."

  "Nay. Now, look out there and tell me what that infamous Lady Mary of Hagaleah is up to."

  " 'Tis sinful," she mumbled, still afraid for Tavis, but not wanting to press Sholto.

  "Ah, a subject dear to my heart and sure to keep me alert. Tell us all, lassie," he said teasingly.

  While Storm proceeded to fulfill Sholto's request by reciting all she had ever seen and heard, despite the occasional awkwardness and embarrassment such a recital caused, Tavis was coming to in time to be tossed to the ground before a tent. What he saw when a man briefly lifted the tent flap and stepped out made Tavis wonder if his brains had been rattled. Before he could decide whether or not he had really seen a tangle of naked bodies, he was yanked to his feet. Held roughly between two men, he found himself face to face with Sir Hugh, the very man he ached to kill.

  "Well, well," Sir Hugh gloated, rubbing his hands together in glee, "Tavis MacLagan himself. They will give that little redheaded whore now. In fact, she will probably turn herself over to me."

  Hugh called for torches and, leading a wristbound Tavis by a rope leash, he marched with ten men toward the walls of Caraidland. They went under a white flag, for Sir Hugh intended to parley. He was confident that he would walk away with Storm in but the time it took to suggest the trade. Then he could take Caraidland on the morrow as a coup de grace.

  Tavis hoped no trade would be made. He did not want his error to be paid for by Storm. There was little chance that he would be killed, for Sir Hugh would recognize his worth in ransom if, by what now could well take a miracle, Caraidland did not fall. He shrugged away the intruding thought that Sir Hugh could kill him out of spite or even rage, a state in which he reached near madness. C'est la guerre, as the French said, he thought wryly, as he struggled to stay upright and turned his gaze to the walls of Caraidland.

  Seeing movement in the camp, Storm halted in her telling of sordid tales about Lady Mary. She strained to see clearly, to determine what was going on. Suddenly she tensed and grabbed Sholto by the arm. "Look, Sholto, there is a group approaching with torches and a white flag. Sir Hugh wishes to parley."

  As Sholto woke his brother and father, Storm noticed the man on the leash. It was another moment before she recognized who it was that Sir Hugh led. Her heart seemed to stop and she turned stricken eyes to an ashen-faced Sholto.

  " 'Tis Tavis. Sir Hugh has Tavis."

  Chapter Eighteen

  "MacLagan," Sir Hugh bellowed as his group stopped within feet of the walls of Caraidland.

  "No need to shout. I see ye," Colin replied sardonically, causing Tavis to grin slightly.

  Yanking Tavis forward, Hugh called, "As you can see, I have your son and heir, Tavis."

  "Aye, I can see that just fine." Colin looked at Sholto and asked softly, "How in God's great name did Tavis fall into his hands? Tell me in as few words as possible what that young fool was doing outside these walls."

&
nbsp; "He wanted to reach Athdara," Sholto said quickly. "We are sore in need of fighting men."

  "Send out the Eldon girl, MacLagan, and I will give you back your son."

  "Where the devil are ye going?" Colin snapped as he grasped the arm of a retreating Storm.

  "Out to Sir Hugh," she gasped as he yanked her back to his side, "so that he will release Tavis."

  "Dinnae be so daft, lassie. Do ye really think Tavis wants that? Nay, lassie, there willnae be a trade." Storm watched speechlessly as Colin replied, "Nay, Hugh, no trade. See, lassie," he added when Tavis waved his bound hands in agreement.

  Hugh swore harshly in fury and disbelief. "Let me see the girl. Mayhaps you have naught to trade with."

  Colin signaled two men to step forward as he undid the ribbon that held back Storm's hair. "That will leave him in no doubt o' who ye be, lassie. Go on. Step forward and call out to him."

  Storm had no idea how well she stood out with her brilliant hair tossed by the wind and the torchlight illuminating it fully as she leaned on the battlement and called, "Did ye wish to see me, Sir Hugh?"

  "Aye, I wished to see you," Hugh said, mocking her polite tone of voice, "I have your lover here, Storm."

  "Ye cannae let him ken that ye care, lassie," Colin said quietly. "Play it hard, child. Play the cold bitch."

  "So ye do. How goes it, Tavis?" she asked idly as she sat down, straddling the parapet.

  "It has been better, little one," Tavis called back and, seeing the white of her slim leg against the wall added, "Ye have nay put on any wretched stockings, ye fool lass."

  "Mayhaps I thought to incite Hugh's troops to riot," she replied, slowly swinging her leg, causing the people upon the walls to snicker and Tavis to grin fleetingly before an angry Hugh gave a vicious tug on the rope.

  "Come out, Storm, and I will release your lover to his family unharmed."

  "Why should I when his own father has said 'tis no trade?" she asked idly. "I care not to come to ye."

  "Do you care not what happens to your Scottish stallion?" Hugh refused to believe that he had failed, that holding the heir to Caraidland would gain him little.

  "Aye, I care, for 'tis a fine stallion he is but, though it will sore grieve me to lose his, shall we say, affections, he is nay irreplaceable." She caught Sholto by the hand and tugged him to her side. "I have a wide choice of stud, Sir Hugh." Sholto obligingly put his arm around her. "I will survive the loss." She fought down the embarrassment of speaking so crudely.

  "Am I to believe that the proud Storm Eldon has become naught but a whore to the Scots?" sneered Hugh, unaware of how close Tavis had come to attacking his captor, bound wrists and all. "Are you now to be ridden by all?"

  " 'Tis a sort ye know well, Sir Hugh. Nay, I merely see no point in giving myself over to a gelding. 'Tis a love of the horses Sir Hugh has," she murmured to Sholto, who laughed as he began to toy with her hair.

  Sir Hugh clenched his hands and snarled softly before he shouted, " 'Tis your last chance, Storm Eldon. Come down to me and I will return Tavis to his family. You are the price for his freedom."

  "Here is my final answer to your offer, Sir Hugh," Storm called back as she slipped her arms around Sholto's neck and proceeded to kiss him, finding a little too much cooperation on his part.

  Tavis was surprised to find that he was not jealous, that he clearly saw it as only part of the little farce being played out for Sir Hugh and that he had absolutely no fear that Storm would really bed Sholto. Sir Hugh looked near to having a seizure as he watched the pair upon the battlements kiss to the hearty encouragement of their fellows. Storm could not have chosen any better way to convince the man that there was no chance of a trade or that she cared little for her lover's fate.

  "Methinks ye play the game too seriously, rogue," Storm murmured to Sholto when the kiss ended.

  "Play your whore's games then, bitch," Sir Hugh roared. "I will see you crawl yet."

  "Only away from ye, Sir Hugh. Always and ever away."

  "Think of what I am doing to your lover whilst you enjoy your new rider, Eldon slut."

  Storm did not see Sholto wince as her grip upon his arm tightened convulsively. "I would keep Tavis away from dear Lady Mary, Sir Hugh, or she will see what a wee man ye are."

  "Have ye any words of advice, Tavis?" Sholto called as Sir Hugh stormed off, leaving someone else to bring Tavis and causing several of his men to stumble over each other as they tried to light his way.

  "Aye," Tavis called as he was led off, "if ye get a bit weary, ye let her do the riding. She likes that. Aye, and Sholto, ye have inherited a mouth worth a king's ransom."

  He was not surprised to hear a burst of angry Irish flow from the battlements, although he did not like the way she was standing upon the parapet to hurl the words at him, despite how glorious she looked up there. It was also not to his liking to talk of her that way, but it was necessary to the game. She was playing the cold-hearted whore for Sir Hugh's benefit, and so he had to act as if she were one. A sigh of relief escaped him when she was yanked down from her precarious position and he turned to watch where he was going.

  In the dark of the wood on the south side of Caraidland, a lone watcher shared the laughter of the Scots. Hadden had reached his viewing place with ease, for the guard was weak on that side, as no one expected a threat from that direction. He had a long ride before him, but he started on his way with a light heart. Storm was safe and there was clearly no chance that she would be handed over to Sir Hugh.

  * * * * *

  "Lord, lassie, ye near stopped me puir old heart, standing up there like that," said Colin as he sat next to a now calm and somewhat despondent Storm. " 'Tis a wonder your father's hair wasnae snow white if ye carried on so at Hagaleah. Just what were ye shouting after that impudent son o' mine?"

  A weak smile touched her wan face. "Let us just say that, if my curses take, he will be a changed man." She clasped Phelan's hand when he came to sit near her. "Sir Hugh is not a sane man when he is enraged."

  "Aye, I ken that weel, lass. Still, 'tis sure I am that he'll nay kill the lad. The possible ransom will tempt him. I ken he is a greedy man, and Tavis is like coin in his hand. He'll nay toss it aside." He patted her shoulder. "Go and rest, lass. Dawn will bring a fair bit o' work for ye ladies."

  As he watched her leave with Phelan, Sholto murmured, "That Tavis is one lucky bastard."

  "I kenned ye were enjoying that kiss," Colin said with a chuckle. " 'Tis a sweet mouth, I ken."

  "Lord, it turns a man's bones to water. Are we to leave Tavis in Sir Hugh's hands then?"

  "We maun do so, lad, though it grieves me. Sir Hugh will not kill the lad. He'll have an eye to the possible ransom," Colin mused, voicing Tavis's assumptions. "They will be awatching for an attempt to free him, and I cannae lose e'en one fighting man. When the battle begins in the morn he may e'en be safer there."

  Storm thought that Tavis was in extreme danger, although she, too, felt that Sir Hugh would not kill him. She sat drinking ale with Maggie and Phelan, her mind picturing all that Sir Hugh would do to Tavis. The man might not kill Tavis, but he could have Tavis praying that he would. At long last, an idea came to her. Maggie needed some hearty persuading, but soon not only provided them with what was needed but even told her and Phelan of a way to slip out of Caraidland.

  Sholto saw a small figure dart to the stables and frowned. Thinking Iain asleep, he quietly left his post to follow. Iain watched him through half-closed eyes and, after a moment, followed him. He, too, had seen the small figure, and he knew that Sholto's admiration for his eldest brother's lover had been deepened to a dangerous level by the kiss and the tense yet stirring atmosphere of battle. They faced a fight and, quite possibly, death on the morrow. Iain feared it would make Sholto reckless.

  At the back of the stables Storm busily cleared off a trap door. It opened up to a tunnel that would lead her out into the wood on the Eldon side of Caraidland. Maggie had explained that it had been used for slipping
out during a siege and raiding the Eldon camp. It would serve her purposes excellently.

  It was not until she flopped on her back upon a pile of straw that she realized she was not alone. Wide-eyed, she stared up at Sholto. His gaze was busily surveying her attire of a black tunic, snug black breeches and soft dark boots. Her hand nervously clutched a black knit cap and black gloves. Neither saw Iain slip into the stables and find a spot to watch from, yet not be seen.

  "Planning to go somewhere, lass?" Sholto drawled, his gaze lingering on her heaving breasts.

  Too distraught to fully notice desire's hold on Sholto, she replied, "Aye. To get Tavis."

  "Nay. I cannae allow that." His gaze drifted to her glorious hair and he ached.

  "Why not? Do ye have any better ideas?" she snapped, her annoyance at being caught winning out over diplomacy.

  "Aye, I do, lass," he said softly, "but they havenae a muckle lot to do with rescuing Tavis."

  Too late she recognized the look in his indigo eyes. She gasped in surprise when he pinned her down onto the hay with his lean body. He took ready advantage of her parted lips. To her shame, his kiss brought a response from her. He was very experienced and she was very vulnerable.

  "Nay, Sholto," she groaned as his mouth worked its way to her throat, but she had no strength to fight.

  "Aye, Storm."

  His nimble fingers found and quickly undid the laces of her tunic. To his delight, she wore nothing underneath. First his eyes, then his hands moved over what he thought of as perfection. The hardened nipples tantalized his palms and proved her desire. He tore his gaze from her breasts to look into her eyes. A shaky, indrawn breath hissed through his teeth as he met eyes of molten gold, a sight that had always sent Tavis reeling. There was, however, more than desire to be read there; there was desperation.