Chapter Eleven
"How much coin would it take t' warm me bed, lass?"
Kolyn twisted free of the grabbing hands, and despite her irritation, she smiled and filled the men's drinks. "No amount of money you have could get me to your bed. Now keep your hands on your mugs and off me." The same man spoke again, his two mates eager with pinching fingers and leering grins. "Now, lass. No need t' be that way. Me friends an' I just want t' have some fun."
Leslie stepped between Kolyn and their wandering hands. "How about me, lads? I'll see t' your needs right enough." A large hand pushed Leslie aside. "I be in the mood for a redheaded wench." He looked up at Leslie. "Not a blonde, lass."
Kolyn tried to ignore his comment and went about her work. She was grateful to Leslie for trying to distract them. She quickly glanced to the table where Ian and Geoffrey always sat, but instantly regretted it. The scowl on Ian's face was ominous. Never had she seen him so fierce. His eyes bore holes in the three men, who seemed unaware of Ian's anger. Obviously they were strangers, or they would have been more cautious.
As awful as they were, she began to fear for them. The last thing she needed was trouble from Ian. Deliberately, she avoided their table, leaving it for Leslie to serve. The three men continued to drink heavily, their ribald comments and stares growing with each mug of ale they finished. "'Tis her job, Ian. Perhaps you'd best leave if you cannot sit here and keep hold of your temper."
Ian turned away from the source of his anger and looked at Geoffrey, a great heat rising inside of him. "I'll keep my temper in check. But they best not touch her again." "Look," Geoffrey pointed out. "Leslie's serving them now. She'll keep them away from Lynn." Ian wasn't convinced. Something inside him remained suspicious of these men. Silently, he watched them.
Molly stopped Kolyn and whispered in her ear. "Perhaps you should leave for a bit, lass. Till they have had their fill of drink." Kolyn nodded and set down the pitcher she carried. She slipped into the kitchen and out the back door. Her goose was immediately under foot, his honking a comfort in the dark. She walked for a bit, enjoying the crisp night air. The tavern was crowded tonight, the air tight and stale. But mostly, she enjoyed getting away from Ian's watchful eye.
She wandered to the small creek where they had buried the dog, her heart still aching from his pain-filled death. Kolyn paused a moment at the small mound of earth, but moved on to the creek's edge. She heard the bubble of water. Soft moonlight reflected off its shimmering surface. It was a pleasant sound, the air fresh as a breeze cleared the smoky haze of village fires from it.
Kneeling down, Kolyn cupped some water in her hands and drank, the near-winter chill parching her thirst. She splashed the rest over her face, cleansing her skin of the sweat from her work. She shouldn't stay gone too long. Leslie might need her help.
"You're a bonnie sight, lass."
The man from the tavern stood before her, blocking her way, his two companions just behind to his right and left.
Kolyn tried to remain calm. "I told you, I'm not interested in your offer."
He just smiled. "Well, I'm not a man who much cares what you have t' say, lass."
His threat registered in her mind, and she was afraid. She felt helpless, vulnerable, and this made her angry. "Don't threaten me, you bastard." He stepped forward. "'Tis no threat, 'tis fact. I'll be takin' what you will not share."
A big-fisted hand grabbed for her, but she slipped from his grasp. When she turned to flee, she tripped over the goose that huddled at her feet and fell to her knees. The goose flapped his wings in fright, and a large foot kicked at him, sending him running toward the tavern, his cries loud in the still night.
The man was on top of her before she could right herself, slamming her to the damp ground with his weight. All her breath left her lungs, and she found it difficult to fill them again with his large body on top of hers. His face loomed above her, ugly and coarse, his breath foul. "I'll show you what a man can do for you, lass."
She felt his hand beneath her dress, slowly sliding up the length of her leg to her hip. He squeezed it painfully as he thrust his groin against her hips. Kolyn felt sick. She struggled against him. She opened her mouth to scream, but his hairy hand clamped over it to still her cries.
He pulled his trousers open. Kolyn kicked and struck out, but her blows seemed to be of little effect on his meaty body. Pulled above her waist, her skirt no longer offered protection against him. She screamed into his hand, the muffled sound heard only in her own head. Tears blurred her vision of him as he raised above her, his partners pulling her legs apart for his ease. Never had she been so shamed.
The growl that reached her ears was animallike, causing the hair on her neck to rise. The ugly man was lifted from her like he was a mere boy, not a large, burly adult. He was flung into the air to land in a heap upon the hard earth. Ian faced the other two men, slowly pulling his sword from its scabbard. They dropped their hold upon Lynn and pulled their own weapons to meet Ian's challenge. They seemed confident with the odds and pushed their advantage. Ian met them with a smile.
Within seconds, Ian had disarmed one and wounded the other. But he was distracted by the man he had pulled from atop Lynn. He turned his attention to him, as if pleased to kill him first. Kolyn pushed herself up onto her shaking legs. She looked about and spotted Geoffrey, his posture at ease as he watched Ian fight the three men. Confusion clouded her mind. Why was he not helping Ian?
It soon became apparent that Ian needed no help. He seemed to play with the man, drawing out the obvious end to its fullest. Kolyn was horrified. Ian's look, his manner, spoke of danger. Indeed at that moment he
was the wolf, the predator hunting its prey. His sword sliced through the man, shredding his flesh like a velvet ribbon. Again and again his blows fell, leaving no room for the man to strike back. He was almost defenseless against Ian's power and skill.
"Stop!" Kolyn cried out. Ian did not.
"No, Ian!" She ran to interfere. He stopped only when she stepped into the path of his sword. "Get away, Lynn. The man deserves to die." "Please stop," she pleaded. He looked confused, but his sword remained ready. "I'll not stop. He cannot live for what he has done!"
Kolyn moved closer to Ian so he alone could hear her words. "Can't you see? I cannot live with his death upon my conscience."
Darkened gold eyes studied her, a brief flicker of disappointment crossing them. "After what he tried to do to you, you would plead for his life? I swear, Lynn, I do not understand you." "I do not expect you to understand, only to do as I ask." "And why should I?"
"Because he offended me, not you, my lord. I am the one who must live with the shame, not you. 'Tis my choice if he lives or dies, and I ask that you let him live." "Bloody . . ." Ian dropped his sword to his side. "You ask much, lass."
Kolyn turned to the man, who had fallen to one knee. "If I ever set eyes upon you again, I swear, I shall kill you myself." With that, she turned and fled to the tavern. Ian was right behind her. He caught her and whirled her about. "You're the damnedest woman I've ever known." "Leave me be," Kolyn cried, her emotions spent. Angry eyes accused her, and she cringed from him.
"You're trouble," he said, "and yet I cannot keep from you." Her own anger began to warm her dull mind. "Trouble? I did not ask you to interfere." "Interfere?" he asked with amazement. "Yes," she screamed, losing control. "Every time I turn around, you're there . . . interfering in my life." Gold eyes narrowed. "I would think you'd be grateful for my help." "Grateful? Is that your game, my lord? Do you think if I'm grateful for your help that I might thank you by letting you share my bed?"
Kolyn knew it wasn't true, but she couldn't be beholden to this man. She needed to hate him, to despise his very existence. "Is that what you think?" His words had softened, and his expression showed his hurt. Kolyn thought she would die from shame. The shame of letting her promise to her father guide her mingled with the shame of letting this man know how unworthy she could be. She thought of Andrew and how muc
h she loved him. The lies came easier when she shored up her determination with a fierceness to protect her son from all the ugliness that had entered her life. The fact was Ian could not give her enough reasons to ignore her promise, and the clan, her father, and Emmett had given her many reasons to keep it. She must remember this.
''Yes, it is what I think. But you're right, I should be grateful." She reached out and took his hand, blood staining his flesh. She did not pull away. Instead, she raised it to her lips, a strangeness taking her in its grip. "I shall thank you properly, my lord. Let's go to your room." She kissed his hand. "Come, let me thank you." Kolyn pulled on his hand, but Ian did not budge. She had never seen such a look in his eyes. She failed to heed the warning they gave.
"I'll make you feel good, my lord." She stepped closer to him and placed her hand upon his chest. Kolyn looked up into his scowling face. "Kiss me, Ian," she whispered. "Take me to your room." Ian pulled away. "Why do you change so quickly from one moment to the next? What goes on in that pretty little head of yours?"
"Do you not desire me?" "Aye," he answered, his voice gruff. "But I'll not be taking you up on your sweet offer, Lynn." Confusion wound full circle and ran head on into her angry determination. "I'll not offer again, Ian Blackstone. Remember that."
She turned and walked away, fury in her steps.
Ian did not go after her this time. Never would he understand her. One moment she was throwing his advances in his face; the next she wanted him to take her to his room. He felt sick. He wanted her to come to him of her own free will, because she desired him. Not because she was grateful. He wondered how the hell she had come up with that?
"How do I manage to act so foolish?" Kolyn muttered to herself in anger. Feelings cascaded through her, one after another, leaving her totally and completely confused. Every time she was around him she seemed to get more absurdmore irrational. Kolyn came around the corner to the kitchen door and nearly ran head on into Geoffrey. He blocked her way.
"Ian's right, you are trouble." Geoffrey's words were hurtful, but Kolyn's anger refused to let her feel it. "Let me pass, Geoff." He didn't move. "I thought you'd be good for Ian, help him feel again. But I was wrong, and I don't like bein' wrong." "What do you want from me?" They all wanted something of her something she did not understand.
He considered this. "I want you to leave Ian be." Frustrated, she threw up her hands. "Make up your mind, for God's sake. First, you ask me to take him to my bed, then you want me to leave him be. 'Tis no wonder I'm confused." He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "Well, you've managed to confuse the hell out of him. I just wanted you to make him see there can be other women. What I don't want is for Ian to be hurt again."
Hurt? Kolyn's mind reeled back to Blair's death, the woman dying in the streets like a beggar. She had feared this man's wrath to the point of fearing for her son. Kolyn had witnessed Ian's anger that day, pushing him to the point of killing. This same man crippled Emmett, and killed Malcolm, Gilles, and her father. She almost laughed at Geoffrey's compassion.
"Your devotion is admirable, but the man is quite capable of taking care of his own affairs. I'll not speak of this again." Kolyn twisted free of his hold and stepped past him. She wanted to be left alone and went directly to her attic room. It was just a few minutes later that Leslie poked her head above the floor. "Are you all right, Lynn?"
"Aye, I'll be fine." Leslie started to go back down the ladder, but came back up. "I've been tryin' t' get Ian t' me bed for near five years now. You've been here a few weeks and he's willin' t' kill for you. Do you not see how lucky you are?" Kolyn thought it sad Leslie would think this. "Don't you ever think of love and marriage, Leslie?"
The girl folded her arms and laid her chin on them. "Sure I do. All women dream of such things. But 'tis not for the likes of me, especially t' a man like Ian Blackstone." "And not for the likes of me?" Kolyn asked.
Leslie shrugged. "You are not like me, Lynn. Even I can see that. But men like Ian marry ladies. 'Tis not enough t' be pretty."
Kolyn snuggled down in her bed. "I don't want to marry Ian Blackstone." "You are a fool, Lynn." Leslie moved back down the ladder. "A plain and simple fool." Kolyn felt the fool and buried her head into her pillow. She was falling in love with a man she was supposed to hate, a man she was expected to kill. Father McCloud's advice drifted through the haze of pain . . . look into your heart for the answers. This frightened her above all else. If she followed her heart, she would betray all for the love of her enemy. Shame forced her to lock her feelings away, to hide them from herself and all she might be disloyal to. There could be no considering her heart's desire.
She must leave this place soon.
The wind was icy, winter's promise just around the corner. Kolyn was cold, but she did not go back. The chapel bells rang out, announcing Sunday services. She watched the people file into the small church, looking much like ants from her perch upon the hill. She envied their simple lives. "If I didn't know you better, I'd think you were about to jump."
Kolyn didn't turn to Ian, his sudden appearance not so surprising anymore. "What makes you so sure I wouldn't jump?" He looked past her and down the steep cliff at the treacherous descent. "You've too much fight in you. To jump would be too easy." "I don't want to fight you, my lord." He laughed, though his tone held a note of irony. "You've done nothing but fight me, Lynn."
She finally looked at him. "I don't mean to. When you are around, I don't seem to know what I am doing . . . what I am saying. Please forgive my foolishness." Ian stepped closer. "I have been rather single-minded in my pursuit of you, and I apologize. I guess . . ." He paused, then went on. "I had forgotten how pleasurable it was to be attracted to a woman. You're very intriguing. I've lost control with you, Lynn, and I didn't stop to think of your feelings. I am sorry."
Kolyn's breath was taken away, her heart nearly stopping at his sincerity. Somehow, she knew he was not the kind of man who apologized frequently. She was moved beyond reason, and could not speak for the lump that formed in her throat. "I've taken a room at the tavern for the next week." Ian saw her question and answered it without her asking. "I don't trust those men not to come back. I want to be certain you are safe."
"That's very kind, but you needn't"
He raised his hand and stopped her. "I couldn't sleep in my bed at Stonehaven wondering if you were in danger."
For the first time he saw fear in her eyes. "You think they would come back?" Her question came out meek, frightened.
Visions came back to assault Ian, bringing with them the anger that had exploded inside him when he had come upon Lynn about to be raped by the three men. Never had he felt greater rage. Even over Blair's betrayal. He could easily have killed them. Such men deserved to die. It still confused him that Lynn had asked for mercy.
"I don't think so," he offered in comfort. "And if they are so foolish, it shall be the last thing they do."
Kolyn felt a tremor pass through her, the steel in his voice enough to convince her, let alone the fierceness she knew existed barely hidden beneath the surface. Was this what her brothers had faced? A man who prompted fear by his very existence? "Is it hard to kill a man?" It was obvious her question caught him off guard.
"Is it hard?" she repeated. "Is it something all men do easily, or can it be learned?" This time his laugh was nervous. "To kill is never easy." "Have you ever regretted killing someone?" What pushed these questions into her head and out her mouth, she didn't know. The look that passed over Ian's features was unmistakable. "Yes, there is one death I regret."
"I must go back," Kolyn declared, growing uneasy with her own curiosity. She moved past Ian. "Lynn," he called after her, and she paused. "Sometimes I see fear in your eyes. Don't you know I would never harm you?" "You've a fierce reputation, and I cannot help but fear it." "Aye, my strength and temper have caused me much grief in the past. But God as my witness, I'll never harm you, Lynn. I've enough ghosts to haunt me."
Kolyn squeezed her eyes
shut to keep the tears from them. How could she believe him? How could she trust him he had abandoned Andrew, his own son, to die while still inside his mother's womb. Kolyn could never chance his knowing about Andrew. Never. She all but ran back to the inn. Ian watched Lynn as she disappeared over the knoll. He wanted to chase after her, to make her understand how he felt, but he didn't. He would be patient, something he wasn't good at, but something he was learning.
Chapter Twelve
Ainsley watched her son closely as he packed a few things he would need during his stay at The Raven. She felt pleased with the light that shone in his eyes. "Are you sure it's only for her protection that you are going to stay at the tavern?" "It's true I can't seem to see enough of her," Ian confessed, boyish dimples showing as he broke into a smile. "I'm totally and completely infatuated with the woman."
"I can see that." Ainsley returned his smile, her heart filled with love for him. She walked over to the side of his bed and hugged Ian. "It is good to see you happy, son, but I worry." Ian's brow wrinkled as he looked down at her. "Whatever for?" "You've your father's passionate heart. I fear you may be to enamored too quickly. You know nothing of this girl. Not even her full name."
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