Tempted by the Highland Warrior

by Michelle Willingham

  The bow fell from her hands and she saw Callum standing a few paces away. Heedless of anything else, she flew into his arms, gripping him tight. Behind him were his brothers, who watched over them for a moment before retreating into the shadows.

  ‘You’re alive,’ she breathed, lifting her mouth to his. The kiss of welcome was a merging of thankfulness, a sudden rush of joy mingled with tears.

  ‘Are you well?’ she asked, pulling back to look at him. His face looked as if he hadn’t slept in the past few days, but there were no outward signs of suffering.

  His hands threaded into her hair, lifting her face up. Touching his forehead to hers, he said, ‘I came to take you back with me, Marguerite.’

  She closed her eyes, filling up her senses with him. The sound of his voice, so rare in the past, was dear to her. It had grown stronger, more fluent, in only a few days.

  In his arms, she became whole again and the promises she’d made to the earl no longer held any weight. The desire to leave everything behind, to be with this man, was all she wanted.

  ‘If I go,’ she murmured, ‘I’ll never see my family again, will I?’ She lifted her eyes to his and saw him nod. At one time, the knowledge had kept her from being with him, for she’d wanted both. She’d wanted to keep her father’s love, remaining a beloved daughter in his eyes. And she’d wanted the man he would never approve of.

  Now she knew the truth: there was only the choice of one or the other.

  ‘Will you love me enough, since I won’t have a family any more?’ she whispered.

  ‘Until the last breath leaves my body.’ He gripped her so hard, she no longer knew where he ended and she began.

  ‘Good.’ She smiled and took his hand in hers. He picked up the fallen bow and slung the quiver over one shoulder. With her palm enveloped by his, she had no doubt that she had made the right decision. There could be no other.

  He lifted her on to her horse and swung up behind her. His brothers joined them on either side and Marguerite greeted them. Although Bram and Alex were friendly enough, she sensed the tension.

  Then Dougal came running towards them from the trees. Though the adolescent boy tried to put on a brave face, she saw the fear haunting his eyes. ‘They’re coming for her.’

  At his words, dread sank within her veins. The earl had told her father. Or perhaps he’d sensed the truth and had brought his own men.

  ‘Who?’ Callum demanded, drawing an arrow from his quiver.

  ‘Dozens of soldiers. If we don’t let her go, they’ll kill us all.’

  * * *

  In his arms, Callum could feel the sudden change in her. Her head lowered and her hands reached for his.

  ‘I should have known,’ she whispered. ‘The earl wouldn’t let me break the promise.’

  Callum spurred the horse hard, riding north as fast as the animal would carry them. His brothers followed, Dougal hurrying to catch up. If there was an army, it was doubtful that they’d succeed in outrunning them—especially not with both Marguerite and him sharing a horse. But he had to try.

  ‘I won’t give you up,’ he said against her ear. She leaned forward, holding tight to the horse, but he could feel her fear deepening.

  When they cleared the forest, he started to change their direction east. Behind him, he heard the sound of horses approaching. Stealing a glance, he saw at least thirty men on horseback, riding hard.

  His brother Alex came up beside him, raising his voice against the wind. ‘Callum, they’re going to overtake us.’

  He ignored the words, trying to increase the pace of their horse, but Marguerite’s mare was older, a gentle mount unaccustomed to such speed. She was struggling to obey and he knew that it was only a matter of time before they lost their lead.

  Bram dropped back and Callum understood that his brother was offering to grant him time. To fight the men and do what he could to slow them down. But if he chose this battle, it was far too grave a risk. He would die in the effort, leaving behind his wife Nairna, who was expecting a bairn.

  Callum expelled a curse. When the horse reached the hilly terrain, he pulled the mare to a stop. Her breathing was laboured, her flanks slick with sweat.

  Marguerite went so still and quiet that he sensed what she was going to say. His arms closed around her in an embrace that went beyond words. He needed her to know that if they stood their ground, he would rather die at her side than live thousands of days without her.

  ‘I can’t let your brothers die for you,’ she said at last, her voice hollow. Swinging her leg to the side, she rested her cheek against his chest as the army closed in. ‘You gave me the greatest days of my life. I will never love any man as much as I love you now.’

  ‘Don’t go,’ he demanded. ‘Stay with me and fight.’

  She reached out to touch his cheek. ‘I think I’ve always known that our paths could never be together.’ Her blue eyes welled up and a tear spilled over. ‘I just wanted to hope that, somehow, we would find a way.’

  The pain of losing her was cutting his soul in half. Callum held her in his arms, kissing her hard. He tasted her tears and the bitterness of loss.

  ‘Keep a part of me in your heart,’ she whispered. ‘You’ll always live in mine.’

  Then she dismounted from her horse and began the solitary walk towards the soldiers waiting for her.

  * * *

  Her father and the earl stood with their men. Marguerite stopped walking, halfway between them. Lord Penrith raised his hand, signalling his men to hold back.

  For a long moment, she held Callum’s empty gaze with her own. His brothers spoke to him and he ordered them to go.

  She could see in his eyes that he didn’t want to leave her. He was waiting for any sign from her that she would stay with him. But if she tried, he and his brothers would die.

  There was only one way to force him to go. She touched her fingertips to her lips and turned away, returning to the men who awaited her.

  The force of her grief choked within her lungs. Then, she moved towards one of the soldiers, recognising the horse he rode. It was Callum’s stallion, Goliath. ‘Give me your mount,’ she ordered.

  When he obeyed, she led the horse forward and guided the animal towards Callum, who was still waiting. He let out a sharp whistle, and the horse obeyed, returning to him. She watched him dismount and he adjusted her mare’s saddle, returning her own horse to her.

  Upon the saddle, he had wrapped the hair ribbon he’d taken so long ago. And when she saw it, she understood he would no longer keep it with him. He was letting her go.

  She cast one look back at Callum and he disappeared over the hill.

  The soldier helped her mount her horse and it was all Marguerite could do to keep from breaking down into sobs. Instead, she gripped the frayed bit of silk and led her horse a few paces in front of her father. She made it clear that he was not to send any of his men after the MacKinlochs. If necessary, she would stand between them.

  The Duc’s expression was grave, nor did he speak to her. When a few minutes had passed, Marguerite ordered, ‘Send the soldiers back to Duncraig, Monsieur le Duc.’ The word ‘Father’ was heavy upon her tongue and she found she could no longer call him that.

  Guy de Montpierre studied her, then gave the order. The soldiers drew back and only when they were gone did she retreat. Lord Penrith drew his horse beside Marguerite, taking the reins of her mare and leading her toward the coast.

  She
went with him, fully aware of his anger. ‘You brought my father here, didn’t you?’ He must have gathered the Duc’s men, as soon as she’d departed. Or had he followed her?

  He gave a nod. ‘I knew MacKinloch would come back for you.’

  She raised confused eyes to his. ‘I didn’t even know he was alive.’

  ‘A man like Callum MacKinloch won’t die easily. Especially when he has a woman like you to live for.’

  Marguerite didn’t know what to say, so she fell into silence as they rode the remaining distance to the shore line. A large ship awaited them just off the coast. Servants had loaded up smaller boats and were bringing supplies back and forth. Her own trunks were among them.

  The earl helped her down from her horse and gave the mare over to a servant. ‘You think I do not understand you,’ he said. ‘You think I can’t possibly know what it is to love someone you cannot be with.’ A stoic expression came over his face. ‘But you would be wrong.’

  In his eyes, she saw the frustration of loss. The earl was marrying her out of obligation, nothing more.

  ‘We will not be happy, either of us,’ she said.

  ‘No,’ he admitted. ‘But you, at least, will not ask for more than I can give.’ A twisted smile overtook his face. ‘It would not be so bad, Marguerite.’

  The earl took her hand and walked with her towards the boat. He never let go of her, and when they were on board, he ordered the men to row them to the larger ship.

  Marguerite turned to look at the grey water, feeling as if pieces of herself were drifting away on the waves. When she raised her eyes to the hills, there was no sign of Callum or his brothers. They had gone.

  The emptiness filled up every part of her, covering her with such desolation she could hardly breathe. Her hands were cold in the earl’s palms when he guided her on board the larger ship. Marguerite left his side, walking to the bow. She rested her arms upon the wood, feeling the wind sweep past her face and hair.

  All around her, the men continued loading the ship and her father boarded among the last of them. From her peripheral vision, it appeared that he wanted to speak with her. His expression looked tired, as if he’d aged a dozen years.

  The afternoon had shifted into evening, and the Duc came to stand by her side. ‘We’ll sail south for a few hours and then drop anchor for the night,’ he informed her.

  Normally, they would not sail until the morning tide, but she knew this was to put more distance between her and the MacKinloch men.

  ‘Marguerite, did you hear what I said?’ He touched her arm and she jerked back.

  ‘I have nothing at all to say to you.’

  ‘We let him go,’ her father said. ‘I kept my word to you and allowed him to live.’

  Slowly, she faced him. He stood before her as the man she’d once adored, the man who had been the only parent she remembered.

  ‘Why?’ she asked softly. ‘Why is it so important to you that I wed the earl and not Callum? My sisters have already made strong marriages. You don’t need this alliance.’

  ‘You are my last daughter. I want what is best for you.’

  ‘You don’t see what is best for me. I want to live with the man who will love me for the rest of my life. Other men see only my rich dowry. But Callum sees me.’

  The wind grew colder against her skin and the ship began to move upon the water. ‘None of that matters to you, does it?’

  ‘Let him go, Marguerite. He’s not good enough for you.’

  She didn’t bother wasting words, trying to convince a blind man to see the truth. Instead, she walked away from him, needing to distance herself from everyone and be alone with her thoughts.

  Her mind was in turmoil, like the waves sloshing against the side of the ship. With each mile that passed, she saw her chance at happiness slipping away.

  Not once had Callum ever given up. He’d travelled countless days to find her. Even at the end, he’d been willing to fight to bring her away with him.

  The icy water seemed to taunt her, pulling her away from the man she loved. The servants had set out a light meal for the others and they called out for her to join them. She ignored their summons, not at all hungry.

  Behind her, she heard the sounds of the men eating and voices whispering about her. No doubt they were congratulating themselves for saving her from the MacKinlochs.

  She hated them for it.

  * * *

  When darkness had spilled over the sky, overshadowing the sun, the earl returned to her again. He stood beside her, his hands resting upon the side of the boat. ‘Are you well, Marguerite?’

  ‘You know that I am not.’ She let out a sigh, her hands twisting together.

  ‘Words will not reassure you, will they?’

  She shook her head. ‘If the one you loved were standing on that shore, and you were in my place, what would you do?’

  He grew very still, not answering for a long time. Then he admitted, ‘I would leave the ship.’

  Marguerite faced him and took both of his hands in hers. ‘Both of us are behaving like cowards. You don’t truly wish to wed me, for you love someone else.’

  ‘It is different for me.’

  ‘Is it? You’re the Earl of Penrith. You own dozens of estates—there is no reason why you should not seize your own happiness.’

  ‘Already I am treated as an outcast, because I have his favour. Many men have sought to kill me for what I am. The Church believes—’

  ‘Are you happy, living like this?’ she interrupted.

  The earl remained silent, staring out at the water. ‘No. But I haven’t a choice.’

  ‘Is there no one else who could be your heir?’

  He shook his head slowly. ‘My brothers are dead. I am the last of my family, and if I do not have an heir, I forfeit my lands to the king.’ A melancholy edged his face and he added, ‘You see, you are not the only one with much to lose.’

  His arm came around her shoulders and the gesture brought her a slight comfort. ‘Marguerite, if I could find a way out for either of us, I would take it.’

  She swallowed hard, feeling the fear overtake her. ‘There is a way. But you won’t like it.’

  His hand tightened upon her shoulder. ‘Tell me.’

  * * *

  ‘Let her go, Callum,’ Alex advised. ‘The Duc released us. If you seek her again, I doubt he’ll let you live.’

  ‘I’m riding to the coast,’ he responded. ‘To watch her go.’

  His brother Bram rested his hand upon his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry, Brother. We tried.’

  ‘She did it to save us,’ he said quietly. She’d sacrificed herself for all of them, granting them their lives.

  ‘We’ll set up camp here,’ Alex said. ‘Go to the shore, if that’s your wish. We’ll be here when you return.’

  Callum gave them a nod and mounted Goliath, urging his horse towards the beach. The animal kept up a strong pace, but when they reached the place where the ship had departed, the memories overtook him.

  Here, he’d taught Marguerite to swim, before warming her with a fire and joining with her. He remembered what it was to be inside her, watching her face flush with a shattering pleasure. And the night he’d been in chains, she had come to him, offering herself.

  God above, but he loved her. He loved her quiet beauty and her courage. The way she’d taught him to write, offering him a way out of the suffocating silence. Letting her go was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.
<
br />   Even now, he found it impossible to turn his back on her.

  Callum watched the ship sailing further out. Then he drew his horse south, riding parallel to its path until it grew too dark to see the white sails billowing in the wind.

  Drawing Goliath to a halt, he watched the ship disappear into the mist. No other woman would ever mean as much to him as Marguerite. But she was gone from him now and he had no choice but to release her.

  He lowered his head to his horse, closing his eyes against the pain of losing this woman. But there was nothing more he could have done.

  Nothing at all.

  * * *

  ‘You cannot do this,’ the earl insisted.

  ‘My father will never let me go, unless he believes I’m dead,’ Marguerite said. ‘It’s the only way.’

  ‘And if you do die?’

  ‘Then I won’t have to suffer, living without Callum.’

  ‘It’s reckless and foolish.’ The earl shook his head, denying it. ‘I can’t allow it.’

  ‘Listen to me,’ she whispered. She reached up and held his cheeks between her hands. ‘I want both of us to be happy. Go back to England. Bring the one you love into your home and let me go.’ She stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss against his cheek. ‘I want to do this, Lord Penrith.’

  ‘Peter,’ he corrected. Though he didn’t smile, she saw regret upon his face. ‘I’m going to lose your dowry, aren’t I?’

  ‘If I can ever find a way to repay you, I would give up every last jewel I possess.’

  He let out a breath. ‘I know I’ll regret this.’

  ‘Trust me,’ she promised. ‘All will be well.’ He embraced her, but within his arms there was no hint of attraction between them. He might as well have been a close brother.

  ‘I will pray for you,’ he offered.

  ‘And I for your own happiness.’ Though inwardly the terror roiled against her stomach, it was time to put her fears aside and seize what she wanted. Even if it meant the greatest risk of all.