by Highlanders - The Warriorand the Rose; The Forbidden Highlander; Rescued by the Highland Warrior
As she dipped the bucket in the cold water, fear struck her. Why did Dougal want her gone? What were they doing with or to Jamie? She dropped the bucket and ran back to the cottage.
Empty. All of them gone. She stepped to the door and listened, hoping to hear something, anything, that would tell her where they’d taken him. Low, grumbling tones echoed from off the side, where the trees thickened and blocked her view. Elizabeth followed the sounds, making her way there as quietly as possible. She crept from tree to tree, searching ahead for a sign they were near. Niall’s laughter led her to them.
They stood side by side in a line with their backs to her. At first, it was not clear what they were doing and, quite happy to see Jamie standing on his own, she knew all was well. Until the unmistakable sound of liquid splashing on the ground in front of them told her what they were doing.
“‘tis red,” Jamie said.
“It will clear in a few days,” Dougal counseled. Niall and Shaw added a grunt in what seemed to be agreement.
“Is that what Rurik says?” she asked, unable to keep silent any longer.
To their credit, none of them turned. None moved from their places at all or looked any place except up at the trees, but she noticed that the splashing stopped.
“She does not follow directions well, does she, Dougal?” Jamie drawled out.
“She is leaving now,” Elizabeth said, content now that they were seeing to mundane things and not going to kill him.
As she reached the stream and searched for the bucket, she also realized that the men, especially Dougal and Jamie, seemed to have some truce between them. Dougal had not threatened Jamie since that first day and had asked her some thoughtful questions about what had happened to them—all the while avoiding anything to do with the mountainside shieling, which she knew he’d visited.
Walking back slowly so the men had time to finish their task, she was surprised to find Jamie outside alone. Though he wobbled a bit from side to side, he stood on his own. Elizabeth noticed that he could open both eyes now that some of the swelling had resolved. Taking a thorough look at him, she knew she loved him.
And she knew she would be letting him go. It was the only way that the earl could save face over their insult—she would be exiled and Jamie would leave. She tried to smile but tears flowed instead.
Jamie held out one hand to her and held his breath as she walked right into his embrace. His chest and back screamed out and he waited for the pain to subside enough to take a breath. No matter how painful it was, he would not release her. Not now, not ever.
“Dougal said I might speak to you alone.”
She raised her head and looked at him. He rubbed the tears from her cheeks and ran his fingers through her hair. It was not bound up or braided as she usually wore it, but flowed over her shoulders like a curtain. When the image of her riding him, naked with her hair like a curtain around her, their bodies sweating from a lively bout of lovemaking, caused him to shudder and his whole body to react, he realized two things. First, he was not dead. The second was that not even the pain was enough to stop him from craving her as he did.
And he loved her more than that.
Dougal appeared at that moment, carrying one of the stools from inside, then placing it in front of him. “Sit.”
It was a good thought but one his battered body did not obey. Dougal then grabbed him under the arm and lowered him to it. Without another word, Elizabeth’s brother walked away. Gathering his thoughts, he set out to explain his stupidity and to beg her forgiveness.
“Elizabeth,” he began. She moved away from him and began to pace the area around them.
“Jamie,” she said. “You must let me speak first.”
She was so upset she was shaking and trembling and it tore his heart open to see her so overwrought. He nodded.
“When we return to Lairig Dubh, I will speak to Connor about releasing you. I know you are a man of honor, but I do not expect you to marry me now simply because you asked me to. That offer was based on deception and lies. My deception and my lies. Connor knows the truth and will not force you in this, I know.”
Her words poured out much like the rains had, in torrents, never slowing, without pause. And under them, he could hear the pain and shame she carried with her. That Connor knew about whatever had happened did not surprise him. Connor kept a close watch on anything and anyone that affected the MacLerie clan or interests. He had informants and spies all over Scotland and he gathered information like squirrels gathered nuts—storing it all away for when it was needed.
But Jamie did not understand how it had happened. Oh, he understood that some man would lust after her and want her, but why had she allowed it?
“Did you love him?” The words blurted out of him before he even finished thinking them. That was what he wanted to know, for it would explain much.
She stopped then and stared at him, not misunderstanding what he wanted to know. Her hands, now held together and twisting with tension, revealed how painful this was for her.
“I would like to say aye, but it was something else entirely,” she admitted. “He was worldly and handsome and he was interested in me. Not Ciara, as most men are. In me.”
He could see her next to Ciara—the blond beauty, the great heiress, the woman fluent in languages and at ease among the king’s court. Elizabeth was always at her side, to him the perfect foil for her accomplished friend—loyal, unassuming, quietly supporting her friend. He’d been blinded the same way, seeing only Ciara at first. Until he’d looked past her to Elizabeth and then he never looked back at Ciara the same way.
“Who was he?” If he ever met him, the beating he’d had at Dougal’s hands would be only the beginning. She shook her head, not ready or willing to share that with him.
“It matters not,” she whispered. “The results were terrible. He boasted to one of Connor’s men and we were brought to Connor to answer for our actions.” She closed her eyes that second and he knew she was reliving her shame.
“What did Connor do?” Jamie was fascinated by how the powerful earl approached problems and solved them. Ruthless, but not mean-spirited. Intelligent, but practical. A good laird and man.
“When it was clear that a marriage was not possible, Connor erased what had happened. The man was banished from any MacLerie lands as well as Connor’s allies, even some of his enemies for fear of antagonizing him, too. The only people who knew about it—my parents, the man who’d heard the boast and me—were warned never to speak of it again.”
She met his gaze then and he knew the worst was yet to come. Shifting on the stool, he held out his hand to her and she sat next to him on the ground, not looking at him. He tangled his fingers, the ones not broken, in her hair, smoothing it from her face as she spoke.
“The waiting was the worst. To see if there would be a bairn. I could not keep it, so Connor said plans would be made if there was one. I have never prayed as much as I did those weeks until my courses finally came.” She smiled softly at him then. “Well, not until these last days for you.”
“So, a youthful mistake.”
“That is what Connor called it. After some time had passed and he was certain there was no gossip about, he began allowing me to travel with Ciara. Since she was closely watched, so was I.”
“He can be a wise man.”
“Aye, he is. But when crossed, he is terrifying. And now, I have done that. I ruined his plans for Ciara’s marriage to you.”
“Elizabeth, we fell in love.”
“And tried to run away.”
“To marry, lass. An honorable estate that.”
“It only shows my weakness and my bad judgment. If I beg him, I think he will let you go.” He pushed to his feet then, straining every muscle to stand and not fall on his face once again.
“I am going to marry you, Elizabeth,” he swore, pulling her to him. “You will be my wife.” She pulled away and, damn his weakness, he could not stop her.
“I w
ill not marry you because you think it is the only honorable way in this, Jamie. I will not let you marry me and then have to be content because it was the thing to do. I do not want contentedness between us,” she said vehemently. “I thought I did. I thought Ciara was right in that regard, that a calm, reasonable marriage was the one to pursue, but now I know I could not accept it, for you or from you.”
“I was being daft, Elizabeth. I know I do not want a contented marriage with you, either. I want a loving, screaming, fighting, greeting, making-peace, passion-filled marriage. And I want it with you and no other.” He took a step toward her, reaching out to her. “As I laid there thinking I was going to die, all I worried about was that you would never forgive me for the way I treated you. For doubting you. For doubting our love.”
She stared at his face, trying to understand his words. Why did he need to be forgiven? And how could he accept that she came to his bed used and impure? Elizabeth wiped the tears from her eyes and watched his face. She’d been a fool the first time, believing false promises and pretty words.
But this was Jamie. He was willing to lose everything for her. He suffered at her brother’s hands and did not rebuke her for it. He loved her. She loved him. It should be simple.
It was so complicated.
Loving someone as much as she loved him was complicated.
But, in the end, all it took was for her to accept the hand he held out to her and take the first step toward him. Then she was in his arms, kissing him as he kissed her back, with little regard for his bruises and cuts.
“What will we do?” she asked when she could pull herself away from his mouth.
“I think I will have to kidnap you from your brother,” he said in a low voice. “And this time we will be married before he finds us.”
“When?” she asked, happy to be kidnapped by him.
“As soon as I can ride and before Dougal can take us back to Lairig Dubh.”
Suddenly, he was sinking and she tried to grab onto him. His legs gave out and they ended up on the ground with no hope of her getting him to his feet once more. She realized he would not be able to kidnap her, nor ride for some days more.
“Only one thing,” he whispered, for Dougal and Shaw were heading toward them. “I think I will need your help when the time comes.” She frowned and shook her head, not understanding. “I do not think I can overwhelm all three of them and steal you myself. I may need your help,” he teased with the truth now.
“I would be glad to help you,” she said, laughing. Dougal and Shaw reached them and helped Jamie to his feet. He’d done too much his first time out of his pallet and it would take a toll on him now. Already he had a greenish tint to his cheeks and he stumbled as they walked him back into the croft.
She forced him to rest for a few hours knowing if he was well, he would fight it. Instead, he fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pallet. Kidnap her indeed!
Then at the evening meal, which Jamie joined them for, glancing with a question in his eyes every time he tasted something she’d cooked, Dougal announced his plans.
“We will return to Lairig Dubh in two days,” he explained. “We’ll take the easier road back, but it’s time to return.”
No one said a word through the rest of the meal. Jamie’s strength gave out just after eating, so he went to his pallet. Though Dougal made them keep the door open when she was in the chamber with him, her brother did not restrict their movements otherwise. Just as she was leaving to seek her bed, he touched her leg, sending chills up through her.
If they married...
With a soft laugh, she shook herself from that path of thought. His injuries would prevent many things for a number of days.
“Tomorrow. It must be tomorrow,” he whispered.
How would they escape when he could barely move? But, from his expression she knew he would do whatever needed be done to get away.
How could she help? She nodded and began to leave, but not before spying the two bottles that Old Muireall left for her use. She did not say anything to Jamie because she was not certain what she could do. Elizabeth spent most of the night trying to come up with a plan and by morning she realized that her reputation for bad cooking would come in handy.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE FIRST SIGN that something was wrong was the loud, gurgling noises that echoed through the main room. Everyone ignored them at first, but soon all three of the men who’d eaten the stew Elizabeth had made for their midday meal were affected in the same way.
James had eaten only a thick porridge made from oats, since Elizabeth recommended it to him to regain his strength. He’d almost ignored her advice until she glared at him from behind Dougal’s back. Now, as the clear signs of impending distress grew stronger, he was glad he had.
Elizabeth, who had been cleaning the bedchamber and gathering her clothes while her brother and the others ate, entered the room then. She nodded with her head toward his chambers and he followed that advice, too. When she joined him on the pretense of helping him pack for the trip planned on the morrow, she wore a nefarious expression on her face.
“What did you do? Serve them spoiled meat?” he asked in a whisper.
“Spoiled meat? Nay,” she said, gathering the bags she’d already packed and bringing them to the door. “I used Old Muireall’s sleeping potion.” She pointed to the bottle still on the table there. Her eyes grew wide and she shook her head, looking horrified.
“A sleeping potion? That was a great idea,” he admitted. Easier to sneak away than to try to fight off the three warriors. If they slept or were at least groggy, they had a chance of escaping. “But the noises? Their stomachs?”
She faced him now and he knew something had gone wrong.
“I gave them her purgative by mistake, Jamie.”
From the sounds in the other room now, she’d given them a large dose of a powerful purgative. Dougal began to wail. Soon, all three men were in the throes of the effects of the medicine. James grimaced at the sounds until he heard the door crash open and all three ran out.
“Well, you cannot change it now. They will be unable to follow us? For some time?” he asked her.
“For hours and hours,” she said. “I never meant...”
“They’ve been in their cups before. It will not be much different from that. It gives us time to escape.” He bent to grab the bags from the floor but could lift only one. “And we will need an excess of time, it seems.”
“This will be more than that, Jamie. That medicine works in many ways.”
He thought his stomach clenched then as he realized her meaning. “They will live?”
She nodded, then continued to gather the important things that he could not lift and followed his slow pace out into the main room. Still deserted, they walked through and out. The horses had been hobbled in a small area behind the cottage, but they had to pass by Dougal, Niall and Shaw, who now writhed on the ground to reach them.
“You did this on purpose, did you not, Elizabeth?” Dougal asked between retchings.
“Dougal, I used the wrong potion. I am sorry,” she said as they walked by. “It will pass.” He could feel the pain and guilt in her voice. “Just do not drink anything but water until it does.”
“I was not taking you back to Connor, Elizabeth,” her brother moaned to them. “We were returning alone.” Any other questions were put aside as another wave of illness struck him.
James made his way to the horses and managed to get two of them saddled, but he was weak and sweating by the time he finished. To make it worse, the sounds from the three men were hard to ignore and soon he thought he would lose his meager meal, too. Elizabeth did not remain with her brother, instead she followed him back and helped him ready the horses.
It must have been an hour before he was able to mount the horse. First they thought of riding together so she could support him. Then they discussed taking two to make better time once they left the area. In the end, they took two and they beg
an with a very slow walk. Each step the horse took made his ribs feel like they were breaking again. Only the very tight bindings Elizabeth had placed this morn kept him upright.
When he felt like falling off and laying in the road, he thought of her. Concentrating on riding through the village, he ignored everything and everyone else they passed. James managed to get into the horse’s rhythm and moved with it, so that each pace was not as jarring. Soon, they reached the place in the road where Dougal and the others had caught them.
He listened every moment for the sound of horses behind them and only when the priest’s dwelling and small forest chapel came into view did he allow himself to think this might work. He heard Elizabeth at his side and continued until they reached the front of the cottage. James wanted to help Elizabeth down from her horse, but that was the last thought he remembered until he woke and found her and an old man staring down at him.
“Ah, here he comes,” the old man said. “He is waking now.” Elizabeth touched his face and nodded.
“This is Father Ceallach,” she said. “We found him, Jamie.”
His vision faded in and out for several minutes. The priest held a small skin to his mouth and James took a drink, coughing when the strongest whiskey he’d ever tasted hit his throat. But then, the warmth of it reached his stomach and it felt good. Another swig and the skin disappeared.
“Ready, lad?” Father asked. But before he could answer aye or nay, the man gripped his arm and pulled him to his feet in one smooth motion. Stunned by the strength of the man, James pushed his hair out of his eyes and met a merry grin. “Come then, into the chapel.”
With the priest on one side holding him up and Elizabeth on his other, James found himself in a small church. Smaller than he’d ever seen before. Only a stone altar and a crucifix decorated the empty space. And a small lamp sat burning on the altar.
“Elizabeth said you wish to marry,” the priest said. “Is that your intention then?”