Reckless Scotland: A Scottish Medieval Romance Bundle

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Reckless Scotland: A Scottish Medieval Romance Bundle Page 74

by Victoria Vane


  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.

  “Afterward, Longford took his complaint before the king. By chance, Iain had the king’s ear and once he explained his reasons for denying the match, the king did so as well. But I knew it would not end there.”

  “Why did he frighten you?” Liam spoke up.

  The question caught her off guard and she frowned. “What?”

  “You said Longford frightened you. Why?”

  From the moment Iain introduced Geoffrey Longford, an unsettled feeling took up residence in the pit of her stomach. “I-I cannot explain it well. But far too many times, he watched me a bit too close. Sought out ways to get me alone.” She set the water skin aside to keep from wringing the material. “My maid, Maggie, never left my side when he visited Penswyck.”

  Arabella barely suppressed a shiver as she thought of the times Longford found any excuse to touch her—his hand on hers, a grasp of her arm, a brush of their shoulders. His subtle overtures had grown bolder and more frequent toward the end.

  Heated skin covered her cold, trembling fingers, and she recoiled from the contact at first. Calum’s strong, callused hand settled over both of hers and squeezed.

  “Did he—”

  “Nay!” she blurted, her cheeks warming from the insinuation.

  A collective sigh sounded around the fire, and Arabella fo
ught the instinct to hide her hot face. The men’s evident relief encouraged her but did little to ease her discomfiture. She peeked at Calum and met his soft, blue eyes. A measure of comfort washed over her at the understanding in his gaze.

  “Please continue, Arabella.” The calm tone of his voice settled in her ears, adding another degree of solace. She slid her hands from his and released a shaky sigh, then began once more.

  “I told Iain of my mistrust of Longford. Not long after the king denied Longford, my brother severed his acquaintance with the man. Several fortnights passed and I foolishly thought the matter was over. But then Iain received a request of aid from the king. ’Twas meant to be a simple errand, but the task required a substantial force of Iain’s men. Even though he feared his absence would leave Penswyck vulnerable, he could not refuse his sworn duty to the king.”

  “To hell with your king. Family comes first.”

  Arabella glanced up to the owner of the incensed voice. Gregor scowled at the pot of fare he stirred over the flames.

  ’Twas not such a simple matter. Ignoring the comment, she continued. “For days, I awaited Iain’s return, but then Talbot staggered through the front gates. That’s when I learned Iain traveled with Longford.” She frowned and pulled at the hem of her sleeve. “He kept the knowledge from me. He must’ve known I would’ve pleaded with him not to go.” She released a deep sigh. “Two days after Talbot arrived, Longford’s soldiers swarmed the castle. Our men were outnumbered. I had no choice but to surrender to Longford’s men. If not, they would’ve spilled innocent blood. I could not allow that to happen.”

  She snatched up the water skin and gulped a mouthful. The chilled liquid scarcely cooled the furious burn inside her. “One of his men produced a missive carrying the royal seal. The king appointed Longford as temporary Lord of Penswyck and my guardian. ’Twas simple to guess Longford’s aim. He sought to inherit Penswyck through marriage.”

  Liam asked, “Did the king not suspect something was amiss with Iain’s death?”

  Arabella passed Calum the skin of water before she hurled it across camp. “Who knows what tale Longford gave the king. He knows naught but lies and deceit.” She clenched her hands into tight balls. “I refused to wed the man who murdered Iain, so I fled Penswyck.”

 

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