The Highlander On The Run (Iron 0f The Highlands Series Book 1)

by Emilia Ferguson

  “Alright,” Alexander reassured, patting her neck. “Now…back, and…over!”

  His horse was battle trained, and the part of him that was still unafraid rejoiced in riding her. She backed up, then took a running leap. They landed on the other side. He whistled, and the second horse followed. He heard shouts, close to the river.

  “Hurry!” a huntsman yelled. “Where’ve they gone?”

  They disappeared into the cover of the trees. The sounds of the hunt grew dampened as they rode away from the river’s overwhelming sound. He thought he heard a huntsman’s horn.

  They slowed to a walk, then stopped.

  Alexander became aware – acutely – of Addie’s body, pressed against his own. His arms tightened round her and he drew her closer, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. He listened to the forest sounds. Somewhere overhead, a bird called, loud and clear. The wind whispered in the pine needles.

  “Are you cold?” he whispered.

  “A little.”

  “Not too far to go, now,” he said. “We’ll stop when we’re at the top.”

  As they continued up a slow rise in the landscape, Alexander slid off the horse’s back and sneaked to the edge, looking out over the forest. He thought he caught a movement down by the glitter of the water’s edge. It could have been a hunter, he thought, sighting out along the water, looking for them. Otherwise, there was nothing. The forest was as tranquil as if no human had ever entered.

  “Did you see aught?” Addie whispered as he returned. She was clinging to the pommel of the saddle. The mount stepped back and forth uneasily, clearly responding to her discomfort up there.

  “I thought I saw something by the water,” he said softly. “You’re a clever lass. We lost them.”

  She leaned forward, relief in every line of her. “Good.”

  “Want to get down?” he suggested. “We can walk a bit. Rest the horses. Later, we’ll ride our remount. How is that?”

  “I’m sorry,” Addie said in a hollow voice. She was close to tears, he noticed with surprise. He opened his arms and she stepped into them.

  “Why, lass?” he whispered into her hair. “Why are you sorry, of all things. You did naught!”

  “I’m sorry because I was late,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I came back. I’m sorry I almost got us caught because I can’t ride…”

  She was sobbing, incoherently. He stroked her hair. “Lass,” he whispered. “It’s no’ so strange. Very few people can ride.”

  “You can,” she said. She regarded him suspiciously, as if she’d never thought about it before. “You can ride.”

  “Aye,” he nodded. He looked at his boot tops, surprised by his embarrassment. It had to come out soon.

  She had thought he was a vagabond at worst, a soldier at best, when he had first encountered her. Now, she had seen him ride and fight. She’d seen him read!

  It was only a handful of people in every thousand who could do that. Of course, she was going to notice!

  He watched, as a frown wrinkled her brow. She seemed to be weighing something mentally, and he waited, heart like a stone, as she seemed to reach the correct conclusions.

  “Why?” she said, very slowly. “Alexander…why can you ride? I never saw a man who can fight like you, either. If you’re a soldier, you should be a knight.”

  He felt his lip lift in a smile. “I suppose so,” he said slowly. It was in itself a compliment, that she had guessed without him ever needing to tell her. Very few barons, he knew, could fight or ride as well as knights!

  “You suppose…” she trailed off, shaking her head. Her eyes grew mistrusting. “Who are you, Alexander?” She looked afraid.

  He shrugged. “I’m Baron Raeburne,” he said. He knew it was a bald statement, but what else could he say? He had to tell her!

  “Baron…Raeburne” she looked up at him, horrified. Then, to his dismay, she started to cry. Tears, hot and swift, traced their way down her cheeks.

  “What?” He whispered. Of all the reactions he had imagined her having, this was not one of them. “My dearest Addie!”

  “If…if you’re a baron, then…then you as good as lied to me! We can’t wed. We can’t live together. You…you used me, Alexander.” She looked up at him, green eyes boring into his own.

  “No!” he rested his palms on her shoulders, shaking her. “No. Look at me, Addie,” he pleased. “Please. Look at my eyes. Would I lie to you?”

  “Mayhap…” she trailed off, uncertain.

  “I came back, to find you! I wanted to find you. I wanted to be with you. You know that, Addie. I want you to be with me, forever.”

  “But I can’t be,” she whispered. “You’re a noble, I’m a servant. It’s as impossible as it would be for the river to flow into the sky.”

  “Rivers do flow into the sky,” he whispered. “Puddles dry up, and rain comes down. Nothing is impossible, sweet Addie. Nothing. Not if we want it enough. Please, Addie. I want you to be with me forever.”

  “You do?” she sounded disbelieving.

  “I do,” he whispered back. “You can be my baroness. Will you wed me?”

  Addie stared at him. She blinked, eyes round with disbelief. Stared at him, as if she wasn’t sure she’d heard him rightly, as if that couldn’t possibly be what he’d said.

  “Alexander…?” she shook her head, like she tried to wake up. “Alexander, are you sure?”

  “Of course!”

  Addie cried, a tear rolling slowly down her cheek. It trickled down to her neck, followed by another. Her face was still, no sound passing her lips, only the silent flow of tears.

  He went to her, gripping her head in his hands, turning his face down to hers. He laid his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. She looked into his eyes, her hands on his shoulder. He stroked her hair.

  “Oh, Addie,” he whispered in her ear. “We are going to be so happy together.”

  “Alexander,” she whispered, voice muffled by his chest. “Oh, Alexander. We are.”

  Together they walked onward through the woods in silence.

  * * *

  The day brightened. They reached the top of the hill in sunlight, the golden rays pouring down between the pine needles. Alexander squinted down into the woods. Addie came to stand beside him. She could still see the glint of the river, dappled with slanting shadows of the trees. She guessed it to be about four o’ clock.

  “I think they’ve gone,” he said. “It’ll start getting dark, soon.”

  “Aye,” Addie said softly. “Alexander?”

  “Yes?” His hand was tight around hers, now. She drew comfort from the way it felt, his skin so soft and warm, the feeling of her blood pulsing in his grasp. He seemed to feel at peace beside her, and she felt at peace beside him, as she never had in her life before.

  “We need to find somewhere to stay.”

  “Mm,” he agreed. She shivered, and it was not fear, or cold, that moved her. She leaned against him, wanting to be in the sheltering warmth of his arms.

  “Alexander?”

  “Yes?”

  “Should we stay at the abbey?” she questioned.

  He frowned down at her. “I fear they would find us there. It’s on the side of the river we want to avoid.”

  “Yes,” she murmured. She was starting to feel nervous. Here they were, on a hilltop, in the middle of the woods. She had very little sense of where they were, and it was an hour off sunset. So far as she knew, neither of them had any provisions, and she had nothing at all. They were fugitives. Anywhere they went, they could risk being turned over to the lord of Berwick Castle.

  The abbey is the best place for us. The monks are not obliged to give up outlaws.

  Anybody could shelter in a church.

  “Addie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you afraid?”

  She stared up at him. “Aye,” she said, her voice ragged. “I am! Alexander, how could I not be?”

  “Me too, lass,” he said. “But I wa
s thinking…”

  “Yes?”

  “I reckon if we could reach Ilmore, we could shelter with Lady Irmengarde’s folk. She was very kind and said to me her man would wish to help me.”

  “Her man?” Addie felt strangely relieved. She realized at least a small part of her unease had been coming from the fact that Alexander was from the same world as fine folk. That tall, veiled woman was the same sort as he.

  “Aye,” Alexander grinned down at her. “Och, Addie. You weren’t upset, were you?”

  “A little,” she admitted. “Anybody would be. She’s more your sort than I could ever be.”

  “And I don’t like her, not like that. I love you.”

  Addie beamed at him. “Thanks,” she said. “I’m glad.”

  Laughing, they headed on into the woods.

  By nightfall, they reached another hill. The directions given to them by a woodsman they’d met along the road seemed to suggest this was the way to Ilmore Grange. They toiled on up the path, the woods too dark for them to see clearly. Addie gripped Alexander’s hand, as much to ensure she didn’t let him wander off the path as for the reassuring touch.

  They came to a wrought iron gate. A torch burned in a sconce beside it. Alexander stared up at the wall. Addie leaned against him, heart thumping nervously.

  “Shall we go in?”

  He shrugged. “Reckon we should.”

  He pushed open the gate.

  “Who goes there?” A weary voice called out. Addie stiffened as a watchman limped towards them.

  “I’m McClymond, and this is my lass,” Alexander called out. “I’m a woodsman. I met Lady Irmengarde and helped her. She sent me here. I am seeking shelter for the night.”

  The guard stared up at them, blinking in the mottled torchlight. He studied them awhile. He was a short fellow with a broad face and a perpetual frown. He shrugged.

  “Wait – right here, an’ no moving, or I’ll set the dogs on ye. See if I don’t.”

  Addie leaned on Alexander, who simply shrugged. They waited as he went inside.

  Two minutes later, he reappeared. “In there,” he said.

  Addie and Alexander followed him into the kitchen. It was warm there. A fire burned in the grate. There was a savory scent in the air – baked bannocks. Addie felt her stomach clench and realized she hadn’t eaten all day.

  “Mrs. Emms?” the guard grumbled. “Give these people sommat tae eat.”

  Addie saw an older woman, gray haired and weary, stir in a seat by the fireplace. The woman went to a big pot on the stove and, wordlessly, ladled out hot stew.

  “Bannocks in the pantry,” she grumbled.

  Then, as if she was used to strangers turning up in the kitchen in the middle of the night, she sat back down again and went to sleep.

  Addie and Alexander looked at each other. Then, wordlessly, they fell on the food. Addie ate as if she’d never seen victuals in her life, tearing pieces off the bannocks to sop up the last of the gravy.

  They must have fallen asleep in the kitchen, because the next thing Addie knew was the feeling of daylight, warm and glowing, on her eyelids.

  WEDDING IN THE WOODLANDS

  The sun shone down on the Grange, touching the upper windows and shining bright into the room where Addie stood before the mirror.

  “A bit curlier, mayhap?” Brenna, maid of Lady Irmengarde, asked her curiously.

  Addie shook her head. She was still staring into the long mirror, quite disbelieving of what she saw.

  “I don’t want to curl it overmuch,” she explained. “It’ll frizz if we burn it.”

  The other woman chuckled nervously. She had forgotten, Addie thought with a smile, that she was a hairdresser by profession. She herself would never get used to the idea.

  “Is that me?” she said in wonder.

  Brenna chuckled. “Reckon as it has to be,” she said. “Seeing as there’s nobody else in here and it isn’t me, that’s for certain!”

  Addie just smiled.

  From the shining surface of the mirror, a tall, graceful woman looked out. She wore a long dress of white linen, so fine it could have been silk. The sleeves were long and flared, covering her slender hands. The dress had no waist, but had a skirt slashed to show an underskirt of pale minty silk. Around her waist she wore a worked green-and-silver kirtle. It was the one given to her by her friend. Part of her old life.

  “Shall I put a garland on your hair?” Brenna inquired.

  “If you can reach,” Addie grinned. Brenna made a face, laughing.

  She placed a circlet on her hair – it was woven of green leaves, interspersed with tiny berries. It was winter, and there were no flowers to be had. All the same, Addie thought, the berries rather sparkled in her hair. Her hair itself was curly, loose – as became a bride – hanging to her shoulders.

  “There!” Brenna grinned. “Now, you’d best go. The priest’ll be waiting.”

  Addie smiled and went out of the upstairs room, heading down to the hallway. A guard smiled at her and wordlessly pointed out the direction to the chapel. Swallowing hard, Addie stepped into the yard, going left to where the small freestanding chapel was.

  Inside, her vision narrowed to one point: there, at the altar, in the greenish light, stood Alexander.

  His hair had grown a little in this month, and it was now more russet than brown, covering his ears. He was dressed in a long tunic and green wool cloak, with matching hose. When he heard her coming in, he turned to face her. Then simply stared.

  “Addie…”

  She grinned, raising a brow. He wasn’t supposed to say anything, yet. In the pews, their three witnesses – Brenna, Bonnie and Lady Irmengarde, smiled fondly.

  Addie turned back to the priest, her heart soaring.

  The ceremony stretched out – words of Latin falling like music. Addie strained to listen and understand. At one point, she heard Alexander clear his throat.

  “Volo,” he said.

  She looked round, puzzled. The priest was speaking again, this time addressing her. She swallowed, licking dry lips. She knew she would have to say something soon. Alexander gently squeezed her hand.

  “Volo,” she repeated. She knew enough to know what it must mean. I do.

  More words followed, then Alexander was turning to her, a look of melting tenderness in his eyes. Addie felt her whole body soften, like bread dipped in milk. He bent down and gently kissed her lips. She reached up and cupped his cheek, wishing this moment would never end.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife,” the priest repeated, translating it for the benefit of the witnesses, none of whom – save lady Irmengarde – would have understood.

  The two of them faced their friends. There, was a moment of utter quiet. Then, Lady Irmengarde, long thin face split with a grin, shouted aloud.

  “Slainte!” she called. “Slainte!”

  Addie understood that, very well. It was Gaelic. It meant “health”.

  She smiled and looked up At Alexander, who smiled back.

  Together they walked down the aisle and out into the sunshine.

  The wedding banquet was simple, laid out in the hall behind screens. It was attended only by themselves, Bonnie and Brenna, and Lady Irmengarde. The count, she said softly, was not there.

  “We cannot thank you enough,” Addie whispered.

  Lady Irmengarde shrugged elegantly. “I owed your man a debt of gratitude,” she said, brow raised. “Besides, I’m glad – I have come to rather like you, too.”

  Addie beamed, flushing. “Thanks, milady.”

  “Don’t call me that,” Irmengarde said sternly. “You have no reason to.”

  Addie just blushed.

  It was dark outside by the time they returned to their chamber. Addie felt a rush of excitement such as she had never felt before tingle through her. She was going to be with Alexander, but now there was no reason on Earth to stop them. They were safe, and free to be together.

  She swallowed hard, heart in her throat.
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  “I should carry you in,” Alexander said shakily. “It’s good luck.”

  Addie smiled at him. “Very well,” she whispered. Her mouth was dry with excitement.

  He lifted her with that amazing strength, and carried her across the threshold easily, heading to the fireplace.

  He set her down lightly on the hearth rug and kissed her. Addie felt his hands moving down her back, feeling for the buttons of her dress. She almost stopped breathing as he unfastened the first one. Then, so gently, he pushed her back onto the bed.

  “Oh, Alexander,” she murmured as his lips moved over hers. He drew her against him, kissing her. His hands moved down her back, working with swift skill at her buttons. She closed her eyes, feeling her body melting against his like warm wax in the fire.

  As he kissed her again, he worked the dress down to her waist. Then, with gentle slowness, he kissed her throat, moving to the little dip between her collarbones. He pressed his body to hers, gently kissing that tender spot, then moving lower. He worked at the front of her petticoat, revealing her breasts.

  Addie gasped, shivering with pleasure as he gently kissed one nipple. His fingers worked the other, squeezing and tugging, but only gently, the motions sending streaks of flame down to her belly.

  She gasped, breathlessly, as he kissed down to her tummy, then lower, working the fine linen petticoat down her legs. She was naked now, the petticoat a crumpled heap on the floor. He looked up at her, one hand on her waist.

  “I want you to enjoy this night,” he whispered.

  Addie shivered. She could feel that slow, sweet tingling starting inside her, working its way up through her body and into her mind, filling it with drowsy, melting sweetness. She closed her eyes.

  “I will always enjoy my nights with you.”

  He chuckled. She heard the sound and it made her shiver, too. He had a lovely laugh, she realized, warm and rich and easy. His hands moved to her thighs, stroking the soft skin.

  She gasped as he parted her legs then dipped his head, to taste her. His tongue, warm and moist, worked over her folds, pressing against the small nodule of pleasure that lurked there.

  He repeated the motion, tongue rasping over that spot, licking and pressing it in a way that made her start to groan, as strokes of pleasure, like the strokes of oars, started to flow up through her body, fizzling into her brain. She closed her eyes and focused on the sweet fire that was consuming her from within.