Temptation in a Kilt

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Temptation in a Kilt Page 7

by Victoria Roberts


  “When I saw him touch ye, I had to be sure he meant ye nay harm.” He hesitated, measuring her for a moment.

  “Ciaran is a good man.” Realizing her slip of the tongue by the expression on his features, she gave an anxious little cough.

  James raised his brow. “Ciaran? Ye call him by his Christian name?”

  “Aye, Laird Ciaran MacGregor of Glenorchy. Ye will ne’er believe what I am about to speak. He is the man I spoke to ye about from court. Ye know, the one who overheard my mother. They return to Glenorchy and his men found me. He tended my injuries so please donna cause him further grief. I owe him much.”

  He searched around his men. “Howbeit we speak of it later? There are things to which I must attend.”

  James’s men ensured the brutes were bound and still motionless and unaware while James continued to study Ciaran who still cast looks of death upon him. In an attempt to keep the peace, she walked over to Ciaran as he attended to Calum. “How does he fare?” she asked with concern.

  He pulled the bloodied cloth from Calum’s head. “He has a knock to the head, but he will live. His head will ache and he will probably wish for death on the morrow because of your…”

  “Brother,” she simply stated.

  “Brother?” Ciaran choked out. He looked at her doubtfully and stood to his full impressive height.

  “Aye. Nae a brother by blood, but we have been together since we were bairns. He is also the captain of my father’s guard. Ciaran, he is a good and honorable man,” she said convincingly. Hopefully, he believed her. For some reason, it was important to her that he did.

  “We shall see,” he said, his voice hardening.

  Rosalia gave Calum a sympathetic smile. “Calum, my apologies. Are ye well?”

  “As well as can be expected from receiving a blow from the hilt of a sword, my lady,” he murmured, rubbing his hand over his bloodied head.

  “My lady?” she gasped. “And ye, Seumas. Are ye well?”

  “No injuries, my lady,” he simply stated.

  “My lady? Why the sudden formalities? Ye were both calling me by my given name, Rosalia.” She scowled at them both.

  “Ah, your brother approaches.” Ciaran’s tone was velvet, yet edged with steel.

  “Dunnehl’s men are secure,” announced James. He nodded at Calum. “How do ye fare?”

  “I live,” he replied.

  Ciaran touched her shoulder. He raised his hand as if to touch her cheek and then placed it down at his side. “Rosalia, ye need to rest. Go and sit before the fire,” he murmured.

  “I donna know how long Dunnehl’s men will be out, and I need to speak with both of ye,” interrupted James, gesturing for Ciaran and Rosalia to follow him away from the men. Ciaran grabbed a blanket and spread it out on the ground. Assisting her down, he sat and took his place beside her, motioning for James to sit.

  James extended his arm to Ciaran—again. “I am James Montgomery.”

  Ciaran glanced down at James’s extended arm and did not take it. “Laird Ciaran MacGregor,” he simply stated.

  Lowering his arm, James turned his attention to Rosalia. “How much does he know, lass?”

  “Enough,” Ciaran answered for her.

  James ignored his response. “Ye were discovered missing by the midday meal and when Noonie wasnae in his stall, your mother and father had me search the loch. I delayed them as long as I could, but they know ye fled.”

  She shivered and Ciaran grabbed her hand while James scowled at him—continuously. Removing her fingers from Ciaran’s grasp to pull James from his murderous thoughts, Rosalia folded her hands in front of her. “I bet they were furious,” she spoke quietly.

  “Your mother was as expected. Your father was… silent. They sent me to scout for ye, and of course I told them I couldnae find ye. Then Dunnehl arrived.”

  “Dunnehl?”

  James huffed at Ciaran’s interruption. “Aye, Charles Reymore.”

  Ciaran cast a questioning glance. “Dunnehl was the match ye spoke of? Your mother and father were going to match ye to Dunnehl?” he asked in nonbelief.

  “Do ye know him?” asked James.

  Ciaran gave a brief nod.“He frequents court and I understand King James barely tolerates him. In fact, I donna think many tolerate him. Why would her mother and father attempt such a match with that man?” he asked disgustedly.

  James shook his head. “’Tis clearly a tale for another time. As I spoke before, Dunnehl arrived with the proper papers, and when Rosalia wasnae there, he refused to pay the bride price. Your mother attempted to delay him, but he was aware something was amiss. When he discovered ye’d fled, he was simply going to take his leave. But your mother had us scout for ye again and insisted some of Dunnehl’s men accompany us. She didnae trust I would bring ye back and she isnae giving up. If we donna return within two days, Dunnehl takes his leave and willnae pay the bride price.”

  Ciaran shrugged. “So he takes his leave and there is nay bride price. The matter is finished then.”

  “’Tisnae that simple, MacGregor. Dunnehl’s men now know Rosalia is found. I will have to lead them astray and tell them a tale. Otherwise, they will attempt such a feat again. If they do something on their own, I donna know what dangers they bring even to ye or yours.” He paused for a moment. “Where do ye take Rosalia?”

  Ciaran raised his brow, and she nodded her head in consent. “My men and I travel to Glenorchy. When ’tis safe for travel, I will take her to Glengarry.”

  “I thought as much.” James rose, gesturing for her to remain. “MacGregor, I need a word.”

  ***

  Ciaran was following Montgomery out of Rosalia’s hearing when Montgomery turned around abruptly. “I need to know your intentions toward Rosalia,” he bit out.

  Ciaran smirked, taking one step closer to him. “Ye are in nay position to give me demands, Montgomery.” Who the hell did the whelp think he was speaking to? The only reason Ciaran did not run a sword through the man was because Rosalia had been through enough. She obviously cared for Montgomery on some level, but frankly, he had no idea why. Ciaran could barely tolerate him. No man ever lived that pointed a blade at him. He was still not sure why he made an exception—well, it was never too late to change his mind.

  Montgomery sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “See here, MacGregor,” he said, taking one step back. “I cannae simply take my leave unless I know Rosalia is safe. She is a sister to me, and ye have nay idea what she has been through. Glengarry is where she needs to be. I will do everything in my power to protect her. I have nay claim on her, but as I am sure she said, she is my family and I will see her safe.”

  Ciaran studied him for a moment. Montgomery did appear to have a certain bond with Rosalia, and she apparently trusted him. “I find the lass has been through enough and I have nay intention of adding to her pain. I will see her safe to Glengarry.” He answered in a tense, clipped voice that forbade any questions.

  Montgomery gave him a curt nod. “If ye or yours mistreat her, I will have your head or something else,” he replied with a steely edge in his voice.

  Ciaran simply raised his brow, folding his arms over his chest. He was casually amused by Montgomery’s attempt to threaten him. He had no idea who this man was, but his actions did seem to be more those of a concerned brother than anything else. He was about to dismiss him when Montgomery grabbed him by the arm. “I need something from ye, MacGregor.”

  He spoke his request and Ciaran could not stay the smile that played his lips. “That isnae a problem.” He pulled back his arm and punched Montgomery square in the jaw. Grabbing him by the tunic, Ciaran swung again, knocking James to the ground with a thud.

  “Ciaran, nay!” Rosalia screamed. She sprang to her feet and ran to Montgomery, holding her ribs. She knelt on the groun
d beside him, tears falling down her cheeks. “’Tis all my fault. I am sorry,” she said, attempting to wipe his bloodied lip.

  Montgomery pushed her hand away. “Rosalia! Donna wipe blood on my new tunic!”

  “What?” She hesitated, blinking with confusion.

  When Ciaran extended his arm to Montgomery and pulled him up, Montgomery rubbed his jaw and smirked. “Ye had way too much pleasure in that task, MacGregor.”

  He shrugged dismissively. “Aye. One for me and one for Calum.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “I donna understand,” said Rosalia, looking back and forth between the men.

  Montgomery gave her a brotherly kiss on the cheek. “MacGregor will explain. I will return.”

  “He has a plan. We will tie him and his men with the rest of Dunnehl’s men and take our leave. When they awaken, he will spin a tale and send them on the wrong course. They will think he didnae have a part in this.”

  “’Tis why ye hit him?” she asked searchingly.

  A deep chuckle answered her. “I cannae say I didnae have pleasure in the task, but aye. Come,” Ciaran said, gesturing her toward the horses. “We must prepare to take our leave. Once we reach Glenorchy, ye will be safe.”

  ***

  Gathering her blankets, Rosalia fastened them to Noonie. She’d never meant for any of this to occur. By running from Liddesdale, she had now involved James in this madness. She had to leave, but she’d thought she would be taking chances on her own. It was not her intention to involve James or Ciaran. These were two honorable men in her life and she had placed them directly in harm’s way. Placing her arm on Noonie, Rosalia felt his warmth and used it for subtle encouragement.

  Ciaran placed his hand at her back. “’Tis time, Rosalia.” He led her over to where Seumas was getting prepared to tie James. She searched her friend’s battered features and could not stay the guilt that plagued her. This was entirely her fault. Seeing his injured jaw made something gnaw at her gut. Perhaps she should have stayed at Mangerton and accepted her fate instead of trying to create a new one. She looked down at her hands. “I appreciate what everyone has done, but I cannae do this. I cannae have ye placing yourself in danger for me.”

  Turning to Ciaran, she reached out and held both of his hands. It did not help when he gave her a warm smile. She briefly closed her eyes to gain courage. “Ciaran, I cannae travel with ye to Glenorchy. I donna know what trouble follows, and I willnae put anyone else in further danger because of me. Mòran taing for everything ye have done.”

  “Rosal—”

  She whipped around to James and stood tall. “I will return with ye and your men and accept my fate. I was wrong to run.” She clenched her jaw to kill the sob in her throat.

  Ciaran stepped to her side and James shook his head slightly. “Look at me. ’Tis nay request, Rosalia. How many times did we stand upon the parapet and converse upon your future? Ye willnae return with me to Liddesdale. Ye are worth so much more, lass. Ye insult my honor and the MacGregor’s. I demand ye take your leave with him now. I have his word he will see ye safe to Glengarry. Start a new life for yourself and be well. ’Tis all I ever wanted for ye. Nay sister of mine will tell me she isnae worth the trouble.” He nodded to Ciaran. “MacGregor…”

  His hand came down on her shoulder. “Ye either say farewell or we take our leave now. ’Tis nay more time. We must make haste.” His voice rang with command.

  She lifted her hands to James’s face. “Tha mi duilich! Tha gaol agam ort!” she cried. I am sorry! I love you!

  He did not embrace her but gave a curt nod to Ciaran and turned his back on all of them. Seumas tied him, ensuring his bindings were secure. As soon as Seumas finished binding James’s ankles, Ciaran nodded his head for them to take their leave.

  “Ye have my word, Montgomery. No harm will come to her, and I will take her to Glengarry,” said Ciaran. His tone was almost apologetic.

  “I will lead them astray. Make haste. It looks as though rain will be upon us and will help to cover your tracks.”

  “Aye.” Ciaran turned abruptly, leading her over to Noonie. “Mount up, Rosalia. We ride.”

  She mounted Noonie and refused to look back. She would not remember James this way. They would travel quickly and all arrive at Glenorchy safely. Anything less was unacceptable.

  The sun was just starting to rise over the horizon and the land in front of her was changing. It was becoming rockier and much more mountainous as they continued their journey north. “Are we in the Highlands?” she yelled to the men ahead of her.

  Ciaran slowed his mount and let Calum and Seumas pass, waiting for Rosalia. “Aye. We need to slow the horses through this pass. They will need to be sure-footed along the trails. Let Noonie find his own way. Donna guide him.”

  “Aye. Noonie will take care,” she said, patting him on the neck.

  “How do ye fare?” he asked with concern, letting Noonie pass in front of his mount.

  “I am well.” They had bigger issues to think of than the pain in her ribs and face. Her injuries were nothing in comparison.

  There was a heavy silence.

  “Rosalia, donna concern yourself overmuch with Montgomery. He has a good plan and knows how to take care. All will be well,” Ciaran said reassuringly.

  “Aye,” she replied lightly, waving him off.

  “I know he wouldnae want ye worried over him. He spoke as much to ye.”

  James may have spoken the words, but it was not that simple. If it were ever discovered that he had aided her escape… she closed her eyes at the thought. Ciaran was right about his plan, but knowing that did not make her feel any better. These men had placed themselves in danger because of her.

  When Rosalia did not respond, Ciaran added, “He will lead Dunnehl’s men on a chase, and they willnae suspect him. Montgomery appears to be wise in battle. He willnae let anything untoward happen and appears to be a man of his word.”

  “And when did ye decide that, my laird? Before or after ye hit him?” she asked.

  “I…”

  Ciaran was obviously struggling for something to say when she turned and smiled at him over her shoulder.

  “I suppose it was after I hit him. He does seem to care for ye as a brother,” he said sheepishly.

  “Donna ye mean to say what I already stated to ye, my laird?”

  He shook his head. “Why do I get the feeling ’tis only the beginning of many of these kinds of conversations I am going to have with ye?”

  “A wise man would already admit defeat.” She chuckled as she felt the first drop of rain brush her face.

  Ciaran must have felt it too because he spoke straight away. “Rosalia, we will have to ride in the rain. ’Tis too soon to stop and we must make haste. The rain will also help cover our tracks. We donna have a choice. If we make Glenorchy on this day, we will have a warm bath and a warm meal.”

  “It sounds delightful. Lead on, my laird.” As they headed up the rocky pass, she made the mistake of glancing down. If Noonie faltered, it would surely be their death. Looking ahead at Calum and Seumas, Rosalia noticed that the steep drop did not appear to bother them. She wanted to speak to Calum to see how he fared, but she was afraid to speak in case the horses would startle.

  As if Ciaran read her mind, he spoke soothingly. “Ye are doing fine.”

  “’Tis verra steep. Has anyone ever taken a tumble?” she asked, gesturing below.

  “We are almost through the pass. Ye are doing fine.”

  The skies blackened and pellets of rain stung Rosalia’s face. She attempted to look ahead of them, but the heavy rains lashed her bruises. She rode with her head down against the wind and rain. When a rumble of thunder echoed through the pass, she had to trust that Noonie could see in front of him. They continued to ride at a slow pace that seemed lik
e an eternity. Rosalia was cold and drenched, and her clothes felt heavy as they weighed on her body. A warm bath and a warm meal sounded delightful. That idea gave her the encouragement she needed to keep moving. These men were risking their lives for her—complaining was not an option.

  Lightning struck and Noonie shied, losing his footing. “Sèimhich, Noonie.” She spoke in a soothing tone, patting his neck.

  Ciaran let out a whistle for his men to stop. “We cannae ride in this. Make haste to the crofter’s hut in the glen and we will make camp,” he yelled through the relentless rain.

  “Aye,” answered Seumas and Calum as a bolt of lightning lit the sky, followed by a loud crack.

  As they carefully treaded down the mountain, Rosalia clung to Noonie’s mane as if it were a lifeline. Maybe it was. At the angle they were riding, she felt as though she could fall over his neck. If she actually had her choice, she would rather meet her maker by a bolt of lightning than chance plummeting to her death and breaking her neck.

  “Rosalia,” Ciaran shouted. “Lean back in the saddle and place your feet more forward. It will help Noonie for balance, and ye willnae feel as though ye will fall.”

  She did as he instructed. These types of issues never arose in Liddesdale. There were no steep mountain passes in which she chanced falling to her death. There was only the occasional hill to travel to the village. What was she thinking? She always said she wanted to travel and see the Highlands—well, she’d certainly gotten her wish. Next time, she would be careful what she wished for.

  When they finally reached the crofter’s hut, Seumas dismounted and took Noonie’s reins. This was one time she did not argue. She ran through the door, panting, as water dripped from her. The hut was small and would barely accommodate all of them, but it was dry and would suffice. There was a dirt floor and a small place to light a fire. A worn tankard sat in the corner beside a small pile of wood, which from the looks of it had not been used in some time. Not the comforts of home, but at least they were out of the storm.

  The men strode through the door, shaking off the rain. Seumas handed Rosalia her bundle from Noonie.

 

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