“Then I would rather keep my eyes closed if it’s all the same to you, sir.” She flashed him a soft smile, pleased with herself at her ability to survive such a near to death experience. He laughed then and crushed her to his chest, pulling away only briefly to check her for injuries, not satisfied until he touched each bone of her body that may have suffered from the fall.
“Ye were brilliant lass, just brilliant!”
“William, I thought…” He did not allow her to finish, instead crushed his mouth against hers, his desire for her overwhelming his senses. The rock ledge was mere feet before them and had one more thing gone wrong, Emma would have been thrown over. That, she would not have survived. The thought of possibly losing her took him over, and he deepened the kiss.
His hands came down from her face, and he traced the lines of her neck and collar bone, never once allowing his mouth to leave hers. She took in a sharp breath and he knew that never before had anyone touched her in such an intimate way.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her lips, allowing him entry with his tongue. He tasted and savored every inch of her mouth. Devouring her sweetness, and she met him thrust for thrust with her own exploration.
He pulled away and looked into her eyes. “I’ll nae loose ye, lass. We came too close.”
“I’ll not let you,” she replied, before lifting her mouth to meet his again. He gently bit her bottom lip, relishing the plump, swollen softness, before moving his mouth to trail light kisses along her jaw line, stopping briefly to worry her earlobe between his teeth. She sighed at him. He smiled, he wanted to please her, and now he knew one of many sensitive spots he hoped to explore further.
“Aye, ye like that, lass,” he whispered.
“William…” He was lost in the taste and feel of her, and she responded in kind, running her hands down his chest, and back up again, feeling each hardened muscle as he ached for her.
He captured her mouth again. She let out a gasp and he pulled away, afraid it was too much. She would be frightened of how much he needed her. And the lass had not yet been allowed to grieve for her dead father.
“We have to get ye back with the group, lass,” he said. And with that, it was over. “Yer brother will worry for ye.” She looked up at him as if he had grown two great horns upon his head. He loved the look of her, hair tussled, lips plump from his kiss. The last thing he wanted was to let her go, but he couldn’t afford to have Marston’s men come looking for the lass, either.
“How will I explain where I’ve been?” She was correct, of course. William hadn’t been thinking clearly. Between almost losing her and then having her in his arms, he forgot, momentarily, that there could be danger in her disappearance.
He scanned the woods around them, looking for her escaped horse. She would need to get back on the beast and make her way back toward the manor house. Thankfully, they were close and she wouldn’t need to ride any longer than necessary. He spotted the animal not far from where they were, grazing on soft grass – apparently whatever had spooked the beast was long forgotten.
“Stay here,” he told Emma, as he moved toward the animal.
“Shh now, beastie.” William slowly approached the animal. A rustle in the tree line caught his attention, and William reached for his sword. It appeared that he had allowed Emma to be absent too long.
I’d hate tae fight with any of Marston’s men now, but it may be me only choice. He knew Marston thought him and his clan responsible for his father’s death. There would be no reasoning with any of them if they found him in the wood, so close to their home, with Emma. He held his breath, crouching down, ready to strike, as whoever was out there came closer.
“Show yerself!” he shouted into the trees. No longer content to sit and wait for a fight to come to him, William jumped up and rushed the tree line, only to promptly be set on his back as a heavy wall came at him, dropping them both to the ground with a thud.
“Ugh!” William groaned.
“What were ye thinkin’ friend,” Goraidh moaned, grabbing his head where it had collided with William’s, as he rolled over into the dirt.
“I was thinkin’ ye’d be one of Marston’s men. Where have ye been, Gor? I could’ve used yer help not that long ago with a runaway horse.” William tried, unsuccessfully, to keep the irritation out of his voice.
“Aye, I did nae mean to startle ye, Will, but after we broke camp, I circled back to make sure we were nay being followed.”
“Are we?” William knew, when his father realized he had left after the Marston party, he would be angry. The Laird wanted to handle the murder of his friend, and the broken betrothal, through the uncle, using diplomatic means. How could William have made his father understand that he wanted to ensure Emma was safe and protected?
“Aye, ye had to ken yer Da wouldn’t let us alone for long.” William knew Goraidh was right. He let out a low whistle. He had thought they would be a little further ahead than this.
“How many?”
“Only three: Finley, Samuel, and another lad, looks to be no more than fifteen. I’ve nay seen him before. They are half day’s ride behind us, and I expect they will slow and keep watch once we reach the manor. Do ye want me to take care of them?”
“Nay, not yet.” William knew Goraidh would be able to convince the men to turn back, but they were clansmen, and there may be need to have them close by in the future. “We’ll let them stay behind us, let them think they are completing their mission. We may have need of them. For noo, let’s get this horse back to Emma. She needs to return to her brother before he sends a search party after her.”
William looked over his shoulder, where Emma had walked up to join them. The lass took his breath away. How was it in such a short amount of time she had become so precious to him?
Och, she’s bonny, even after almost dying on that bloody horse.
“I agree, and if you gentlemen would assist, I think I’m ready to get back on that beast!”
As the manor house came into view, Emma felt a piece of her heart get fluttery. As much as she had been through, her home always made her feel at peace. Yet at this moment, her homecoming was bittersweet.
She dropped down from the mare that had almost killed her, and decided to walk the remaining way to the house. William and Goraidh were somewhere in the woods behind her, and once again she felt safe, her own private guardian angels watching over her.
“Is Lord Dawaerton already inside?” She asked the stable hand, as she handed the mare over for care.
“Yes, Lady Emma, and the men have been dispatched back to their homes in the village.”
Had Thomas not realized that I had gone away from the group?
“Thank you. I shall find him in the house.” Relief mixed with slight irritation took over her mood. She had almost perished on that bloody horse, and Thomas had not even had the temerity to be concerned when she wasn’t found riding with him?
While she was glad her brother’s lack of concern helped William stay hidden, was she not the sister of the new Earl? Should he not have sent someone to search for her? The only excuse was that he could have been preoccupied with their father’s death and what needed to happen to bring his murderer to justice.
It was either that or he didn’t care a whit.
A small shudder went through her. The problem with that was Thomas was convinced it was William and his father at fault. Emma knew that was not the case. So then, who murdered her father?
After refreshing herself, and getting reacquainted with her home surroundings, Emma went in search of Thomas.
When she found him in their father’s study, the door was open just enough for her to peek through. A small pang of grief hit her as she realized that despite his brusque nature and his demanding approach to parenting, she would never see her father sitting behind that desk again; it was Thomas’ role now.
A lock of his dark brown hair, so much like her own, fell over one eye as Thomas studied the paper in front of hi
m. They had been at odds, she and Thomas, for so long now and watching him created a longing in her for what might have been between them.
Was there ever a time when you were kind to me, brother?
Maybe this could be a new beginning for them. If only she could make him see that William was not the murderer.
“Thomas?” She knocked lightly on the door. “May I have a word?”
He looked up, and if she didn’t know better, she would have sworn he did not recognize her for a moment.
“Yes, Yes, of course, sister. Where have you been? I swear I haven’t seen you since our return.” As she thought, it appeared he had not noticed she was missing.
“I was a little slow coming up to the house. I had an issue with the horse.” It was not worth it to go into the details, and risk Thomas asking questions she would not be able to answer without risking William and Goraidh.
“I see. Well, I’m glad you're here. I have something to discuss with you.”
“And I, you, brother. I would very much like to know what you plan to do to prove the MacNair’s innocence in our father’s death.” She didn’t know where the courage to ask her question outright had come from, but there it was. She braced herself for a violent reaction from her brother, knowing how he reacted to the MacNairs back in Scotland. She hoped the days on the road calmed him enough to at least discuss it.
Thomas stood and walked around the desk settling himself on the worn leather sofa that faced the hearth. He motioned for Emma to join him.
“Emma, you must put the murderous MacNairs out from your mind. Our time of aligning ourselves with that Clan is over.”
“But that’s just it, Thomas. I do not believe they were behind Father’s death. We must look elsewhere to be sure.”
She hated the sound of her voice while being forced to plead with Thomas, but she knew in her heart that there was someone else they should be looking for. She shook her head to force his hand away.
“Please, Thomas, you must promise me you’ll have your men look elsewhere. If I am to be happy, I need to know you are working to find Father’s killer.”
Thinking of the moment her father had slumped over on the table made her want to cry. She was not sure if the tears were shed for her father or for William. But she couldn’t abide having her family think the Highlander a murderer. Not when she knew in her heart he was not.
“Emma, of course, we are doing everything possible. I will have men in Edinburgh, and Perth, looking for information. But you have to know that it is only possible that the MacNairs are responsible. I think also, it would be wise, due to my newly elevated station, that you address me properly.” He stood and moved toward the window.
Address him properly?
Emma was shocked by the calm authority Thomas used in his request. Surely, as her brother, she should not be subject to the rules of proper society in the privacy of their own home?
“I refuse to believe it, my lord.” She responded, giving him the proper title, yet the words held none of the honor Thomas clearly wanted. “There must be someone else at fault!”
“Emma, you are obviously tired. You need to rest. We will talk more about this and your future tomorrow.” He spoke through clenched teeth, and Emma knew better than to push him. Emma could tell she did upset him, and she would not wish to be bothersome but it was important. He moved to ring the bell, calling for a servant.
Mrs. Briddle arrived moments later. It was almost as if she were waiting outside the study door. Emma found it odd, how quickly the woman appeared.
“Ah, Mrs. Briddle, I trust you can assist my sister with getting herself ready for bed? Perhaps she would like a warm bath first.” He raised an eyebrow in Emma’s direction, challenging her to continue to argue.
“My Lord, thank you. I shall retire for the evening.” She knew she would not get any further this evening. And a warm bath did sound lovely. She reluctantly rose from the couch and offered her brother a quick curtsey. Come morning, she would have to find another way to convince Thomas of William’s innocence.
Chapter 11
It was pure luck that William and Goraidh came upon an abandoned hunting cabin in the woods on Marston lands. The cabin was low-roofed and square with flat steps to the tiny front porch and the door there. The cabin was mostly intact but there were holes in the slate roofing and rust was on the window panes. With no other options, they had chosen it for their stay in the Northumberland woods.
“Do ye think it’s truly abandoned?” William asked, as he dropped in a tired slump onto the hard, wooden chair in the middle of the cabin. He hadn’t had any real rest since leaving the MacNair castle. He had been too consumed with protecting Emma. Now that she was safely tucked into her family home, William took a moment to let his guard relax.
“Aye, me thinks it ‘tis, indeed.” William watched as his friend picked up a moldy wool blanket and dropped it at the front of the room in disgust. “I haven’t stayed in such filth since we were mere bairns.”
William let out a weary chuckle. “Ye always enjoyed luxury in yer surroundings.”
“Nothing wrong with that, ye ken,” his friend replied. A sudden noise hushed their conversation.
Goraidh looked up from the hearth and cocked his head toward the door. William immediately stood at attention.
“What is it?” Goraidh’s voice was hushed.
“Hush, do ye not hear the horses?” William said, as he stood still as stone. Sure enough, what he had heard placed Goraidh on edge. The sound of hooves came closer and he readied his sword.
“Who do ye think it would be? Marston’s men?” He kept his tone low, thankful they hadn’t yet started a fire. It would be that much easier to hide and keep the element of surprise on their side if need be.
“Mayhap, but me coin’s on Finley. They were nay that far behind, and he would also be lookin’ for somewhere to camp. This cabin would attract them as it did us, aye?”
“Aye,” William agreed.
If, indeed, it was Finley and the Laird’s men. The only explanation was that they had come to take him back to Scotland. Something he had expected but not openly voiced. William would have a difficult time explaining that he was not leaving England without Emma, but they could accept it or not. He was staying put until he got her back. The hooves became louder before thundering to a stop just outside the cabin door.
“Hold steady,” William said, giving Goraidh a look to stay him. He moved toward the door, hoping to hear their visitors’ voices so he could determine their identities.
“Och, William, we ken yer in there. Let us in, we’re tired!” William yanked open the door before Finley had a chance to pound.
“Damn it, Finley, if ye think we did nae ken ye were followin’ us, ye’d be a fool. I’m nae goin’ back to the keep. Not without tha’ lass.” Finley’s eyes went dark, and William knew the reunion would not be a friendly one.
“I’m nay here to convince ye of anything, William. Yer Da’s worried yer hot temper will get ye in trouble with the English. We’re here to provide help should ye two arses get in trouble. Which by the looks of it, ye will.”
“Why is it that I doona believe ye?”
“I cannae answer that for ye, friend. ‘Tis yer stubborn fool head that wants to help the Sassenach. The rest of us saw this weddin’ for what it was. ‘Tis a good thing the old earl passed before ye made tha’ mistake of marryin’ the lass.”
“And what would ye have done to prevent it?” Tension crackled in the air between them. William gripped the hilt of his sword. He didn’t want to use it on his friend, but he was unsure how literal he would take his father’s instructions to return him back to Scotland. William would fight, if necessary.
The three men moved into the small cabin, and Goraidh continued building the fire in the hearth, seemingly no longer concerned that there would be a fight.
William was not as sure as his friend. Finley had not been keen on his and Emma’s betrothal from the beginning, and he wou
ld not be easily deterred. Nor would William. The lass was his. They were already bonded. Finley would do well to simply turn back and inform his father what was done would not be undone.
“Anythin’ to eat in this place?” Samuel questioned from behind Finley’s shoulder.
Both Finley and William looked at the lad. He was no taller than William’s chest, and not a bit muscular. He would not help in any kind of fight, and William clearly saw why his Da chose him to accompany the other men. He was too slight to be taken seriously, and perhaps his Da also had suspicions of Finley and planned to use Samuel to diffuse any anger between the men, until William could figure what had happened to the Earl.
“Nay,” Goraidh said, standing and moving toward the men. His look was stern, not so easily swayed. William appreciated his friend’s support. “Mayhap ye’d be more comfortable in the village inn?”
Disciplined by the Highlander: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 8