She gasped and he tensed, afraid that she had been frightened by him. He looked into her face but she was smiling. As he smiled down at her, she moved back, a little shakily.
“Sorry, lad,” she murmured. “I just don’t think I can, well…stop short of what we’re no’ supposed to do.”
He felt his grin spread across his face and he tried not to laugh, though his very soul wanted to melt with happiness, hearing her words. “Och, lass!” he said. “I feel the very same.”
He put his hands on her shoulders and tried to resist the urge to press his body against hers, to feel her softness against the stiff hardness in his trousers again and again. He drew in a shaky breath.
“I reckon we’ll have to wed soon,” he murmured. He grinned at her, a mix of happiness and shyness.
“Aye,” she said, smiling up at him. “How about the day after tomorrow? Barra said it’s a promising day.”
“She did?” Arthur frowned. “You asked Barra? About that?”
“No, you daft lad,” she chuckled, giving him a playful shove. “It’s a promising day to take the sheep to a new pasture. But I reckon it’ll do as well for us. What do you think?”
He started laughing, amazed as he ever was by her unusual way of thinking. “Well, lass,” he laughed. “I reckon that’s just about what we’re doing, eh? New pasture?”
She laughed, a high-pitched sound full of happiness. “You funny lad!” she teased. “Well, in a way, I suppose that’s true.”
She was still laughing as she kissed him. Arthur stared into her eyes and felt the wonder of the situation overwhelm him anew. He was in love with Bonnie. He was also going to marry her the day after tomorrow.
Visitor
Arthur looked up at the barn roof. The sun shone in, which was a pleasant change – they had started their labors in the rain, but now, as they finished, the day cleared. He looked out on a rain-washed sky and felt his face lift in a smile.
“You almost done?” Mr. Hume interrupted his thoughts. The farmer had a sack thrown over one shoulder, straining under the weight of it. Arthur lifted the sack off, carrying it to place it with the others over at the wall.
“Aye, I’m finished,” he said. He winced, stretching out the ache in his back.
They had been moving sacks all morning, making space in the barn so that they could move the sheep in from the pasture. He’d spent the whole morning bent over, and his back was aching.
“Grand,” Mr. Hume clapped him on the back.
Arthur looked into that careworn face and wondered at the fact that Hume had never challenged him, or any of the others – as far as he knew – about their return.
Maybe he simply thinks there isn’t any resistance to stand against the English foe?
He felt upset at that thought.
“Mr. Hume,” he asked, as they walked from the barn to the farmhouse in the stiff wind, “have any of the other hands joined the resistance, since I left?”
“No,” Hume said, wincing as he stepped onto his sore knee. “Nobody here. We’re all farmers, lad. Not interested in running off to be heroes.” He shoved his shoulder playfully.
“I know,” Arthur nodded.
The old man frowned. “Not that there aren’t all sorts, coming down,” he muttered as they walked down the path. “All sorts. And not good sorts, either.” He spat.
“All sorts?” Arthur frowned, not sure what he meant.
“Aye! A lad came down past the farm the other day. Thought he was a bit odd in his head, so I did…I gave him short shrift.”
“You did?” Arthur frowned, trying to make sense of the words. “Why did you think that?”
The farmer chuckled. “Och, he was raving mad! Raving on about the resistance, and how he reckoned all of us fine fellows would want to have a part of it. Said he was collecting men to take to the north with him. I sent him packing. He’ll take no more of my lads. Not before we’ve even planted the oats.” He spat again, sourly.
“This man?” Arthur frowned. “He said where he was going to take our lads?”
“Och, to Inverness,” he nodded. “He was very clear about it. I sent him packing. We don’t need his sort coming here to steal my workers.”
“No,” Arthur murmured grimly. “We don’t.”
He let the information slide into his thoughts. It was odd, he thought, that whoever this was, they were informing everybody as to their destination and intentions. Alec, when he had recruited them, had told nobody where he was going – not before they’d sworn an oath to keep it secret.
No, he thought, there was something not quite right about this. The thought sat uneasily inside him and he found it hard to return to his carefree mood of earlier.
“So?” the farmer asked, giving him a shove. “What’re you going to be doing this afternoon? Helping me move the sacks in the barn yonder, eh?”
Arthur wanted to groan, but he couldn’t, so he shrugged noncommittally. “I suppose,” he said.
“Och, there’s a fine thing!” the farmer chuckled, and Arthur winced as his bony elbow hit him in the ribs again. “When we have three other men, to help? No, lad, you go and take a rest. I’ll be watching Bert and Brodgar hauling sacks. They could make themselves useful, if they want to stay here.”
Arthur chuckled. “Yes, sir.”
“Grand. See you in the kitchen for a midday meal, then?” the farmer asked. “I’m going to stick my head in that barn there, and see how many hands we’ll need to shift the sacks.”
Arthur nodded. “Thank you, sir. Yes.”
He trudged back to the farmhouse, excited at the thought that, over lunch, he would have a glimpse of Bonnie.
He went around the side to the kitchen, surprised to see Bonnie was already outside.
“Arthur!” she embraced him and he held her close. “Have you time for a walk, after lunch?”
Arthur stared at her with surprise. “Of course,” he murmured, bending down to kiss her. “I would like that a lot.”
“Good,” she smiled. Her voice shivered through his body, making him ache with longing. On the one hand, he thought with some concern, being in an isolated place with Bonnie was probably the worst idea, for preserving their virtue. However, on the other hand, he could think of nothing he would like more in the world.
Fighting down the images that flitted through his mind – Bonnie, naked, those small firm breasts stiffening in the air, or Bonnie lying underneath him, his mouth on hers as he kissed her – he went inside.
Alec, Bert and Brodgar were already at the table and he was so overwhelmed with the talk and laughter around the table, that he forgot all about Hume’s ominous words. Lunch was freshly baked bread, milk, cheese and boiled eggs, and he ate his fill, relishing the fine fare after so many days in the forest with so little to eat.
“…and so?” Hume challenged the four men. “I need two helpers this afternoon in the barn. It can’t be Arthur, since he’s broken his back all morning. It’ll have to be the rest of you.”
“I’ll do it!” Bert said instantly.
“And me!” Brodgar offered.
“This beats trudging about in the woods,” Bert added, taking another slice of warm bread. Arthur nodded. He recalled Mr. Hume’s mention of strangers recruiting for the resistance. He cleared his throat.
“I’m glad we’re here,” Alec spoke up, before he could say something. “It’s a pity for the others.” He looked down at the table. Arthur nodded. A silence descended on the group.
“I wonder,” Alec mused, “if we shouldn’t go back to find them.”
Arthur shook his head. “I don’t think that, even if we did, we’d manage,” he said sadly. He didn’t want to say what he was thinking – that if the two men had been alive, they would certainly have been tortured.
Alec shook his head. “I would like to know what happened to them.”
Arthur swallowed. “I suppose.”
They all returned to eating, but the happy mood of earlier had been quelled. Arthur s
tood, pushing back his chair across the flagstones.
“I’ll fetch water for the washing up,” he said softly.
“You will, will you? That’s a fine way to get out of doing the washing up!” Brodgar yelled. They all laughed.
Arthur went out to fetch the water, bucket clanking and swinging as he walked. He drew water from the well, and as he did so, he found himself wondering about what Alec had said. When he put it together with what Hume had said, it made a particularly unpleasant picture.
If they tortured one of our lads, then that would explain how they knew about our plans.
He felt sick. How else would their enemies have found out about Inverness? The more he thought about the man who’d come recruiting for the cause, the more he thought that he was a spy. Why else would he be spreading the information around like that?If the enemy knew, there was only one way that they could have found out, in his mind. Torturing their men. Even though one of the men had been Miller, he still had no particular urge to imagine him under torture. He filled the bucket and carried it back towards the kitchen, full of horror and sadness at his discovery.
The warmth and peace of the kitchen soothed his soul at once. The place was lit with firelight, the wood of the table shining where Brodgar and Barra together polished it with beeswax. Alec was by the fire, adding wood, and Bert was opening the shutters.
Bonnie was washing dishes in a copper bowl. He went to help her. “If I do some, then we’ll get finished faster,” he murmured, taking a dish from her hand.
She laughed. “I suppose that’s true,” she offered. He rinsed the dish of fired clay in the water and dried it with a linen cloth, stacking it neatly into the cupboard above the sink. He could smell the spicy scent of her and he longed for her with every breath.
“Do you think we could…” he whispered into her hair.
“Mind the floor – it’s slippery,” she said, pointing at a puddle of water on the flagstones. When she looked up at him, her eyes were teasing. “Not here, where people can see us,” she chided. “But yes. I think we could sneak away soon.”
He bit his lip, lest the pain in his groin overwhelm his sense. He nodded. “Thank you, lass.”
Shining eyes lit with a smile, she looked up at him and then turned away, finishing the washing up. By the end of it, Arthur was almost wild with longing. He waited for Bonnie to leave the room and then went outside behind her. They met at the barn.
“Bonnie!” Arthur murmured. He crushed her to his chest, breathing in the scent of her. He shut his eyes, the feeling filling him when he held her so close almost too much to bear. He gritted his teeth and tried to resist the urge to take her right there.
“Arthur,” she murmured. She pressed her lips to his, and he gasped at her eagerness. He held her to him and let his tongue taste her sweetness.
He looked into her eyes. “My sweetling,” he whispered. “I don’t think I can bear to be alone with you.”
She smiled. “I reckon we could manage a minute?”
“A minute?” he gasped, his emotions blocking his throat. “I could try,” he managed. His heart thumped and his blood raced with the thought of time alone with her. He had taken it for granted so often! Now, it was a priceless thing, to be treasured.
“Well, then,” she said. “we can go into the woods. There’s a place by the fence where we won’t be seen. I asked Barra, and she said it’s safe and not far from the path.”
“I don’t know,” Arthur said, falling into step behind her as they walked to the gate. “I reckon we’d be safer to be away from the tracks. Like Mr. Hume said, there’s odd sorts about.” He frowned.
Bonnie looked a little hurt, but shrugged. “If you say so,” she said gently. “And after all, we’ll be a minute.”
“A minute,” he murmured.
Bonnie chuckled and, laughing, they ran together into the tree line.
Arthur caught up with her by a pine tree. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her against it, feeling her body under his. She wriggled out and they collapsed together, laughing, to the ground.
He put his tongue in her mouth, marveling at the clinging warmth of it. He felt her soft curves and gripped her waist with his hands, his knee moving to part her thighs. She sighed and, still fully clad, they lay there, his lips on hers, her body pressed to his. He thought he might die with the beauty of how it felt.
She sighed and held him tighter, her body molding to his. He gasped and pushed against her with his hips, wishing he could be inside her, and feel her soft, satin skin part for him. He gritted his teeth and leaned back to roll off her. She looked up at him, eyes the same mix of wonder and fear he felt.
“We shouldn’t do this,” she murmured. “Not yet.”
“I would love to,” he assured her, his grin twisting his lip. “I just don’t think that, if I start, I’ll be able to stop.”
“And we have to save something for the wedding.”
“Yes,” he chuckled. “I suppose.”
She stood, arranging her skirts. “Excuse me a moment?” she said. She indicated the trees with an incline of her head and he guessed she needed to relieve her bladder. He nodded.
“Don’t be long,” he murmured.
She grinned at him. “I won’t. We should get back.”
He waited for her, feeling urgency and joy spark their way up his veins. He wanted her so much!
He stood, waiting, for her to come out of the tree line and into the clearing again.
He waited for a minute, and then he waited for another one. That seemed strange to him. Women might take more time than men did, generally, but two minutes seemed a bit excessive, even to him. He cleared his throat, not wanting to be rude, but feeling a bit worried.
“Bonnie?”
No reply. Arthur thought for a minute, then cleared his throat again.
“Bonnie? Lass? You alright?”
No answer.
Arthur felt his heart start to thump and he tiptoed forward through the bushes. He didn’t want to shock her if she was still going about her private business, but he needed to ensure she was still there.
“Bonnie?” he called softly. He looked around the space.
He stared. Where she had been, there was only the indentation of a footprint. She had gone.
“Bonnie?” he called, walking across the small clearing, his heart thumping with a fresh sense of urgency. “Bonnie!”
He looked among the trees and then came back to where he had been, searching in the clearing again. His mind reeled. Where was she? It made no sense! Had she run away from him? Had she fallen? He rushed to the other side of the clearing, in case he had missed something.
“Bonnie?”
He made himself stop his frantic rushes, and stood still. This needed some serious thought.
“She isn’t in the trees. She’s not close. So she didn’t fall and hurt herself. Either, she ran away, or…”
Or she was taken.
It was the worst possibility, but the more he thought about it, the more it made an awful kind of sense. Why would she have run away? It seemed far too far fetched to be true. He backtracked to the clearing and crouched down, studying the bare patches of earth.
There, he could see her footprints. They were prints of booted feet, but small and dainty, the weight not pressed too far into the wet earth. Those were Bonnie’s prints. If anybody had snatched her, there would have been prints all over the clearing, and maybe some signs of a struggle.
He stood and looked around. He found another of her prints on the far side of the clearing.
“She went this way,” he told himself. He followed the route. There was a path of sorts there, narrow and not particularly path like, more like a way to pass between the closely growing trees. He followed it until he came to a space before a tall tree. There, there were scuff marks on the ground. Big booted feet had churned up the earth here, and then a series of smaller ones had fought and kicked perhaps. Then, leading away from the spot, there were onl
y two prints.
“A man.”
Big, booted feet led away from the tree, further into the woods. Arthur swore under his breath, tears running down his cheeks. Whoever had taken Bonnie, he would kill them!
“My sweetling! My sweetest lass…”
He whispered it, tears dripping down his chin. She was so brave! She had finally learned to trust him, and now? He had let somebody get within three yards of him and hurt her, and he hadn’t so much as heard them do it!
“I’ll kill them,” he muttered under his breath. “I swear I will. I’ll kill every single one of them…”
He stopped. So far, there was only one set of prints. In itself, that wasn’t too terrible. He felt at his side to where he had, fortuitously, buckled on his dagger. He could fight one man alone, of that he was sure. Brawls with other sailors, or on shore, had taught him more than the rudiments of fighting.
“If she’s with one man, I’ll kill him.”
He fought down the mix of tears and rage that filled him, and tried to stay calm, and cold. He would find Bonnie. He would rescue her, and bring her back. That was all that mattered.
He wasn’t going to lose her now.
Taking a deep breath, slowing his pace to a loping run, he followed the tracks deeper into the woods.
Escape
The woods were darker here. Bonnie felt the change of the light on her eyelids and a sudden chill. She also, suddenly, became aware of the jolting motion beneath her. She opened her eyes on a patchwork of leaves and sky, and memory flooded back to her along with consciousness. She screamed.
A voice, brisk and harsh, shouted at her. “Whist! Hold your screaming or I’ll knock you out again.”
Bonnie went silent. She looked around, eyes stretched wide. She was on a handcart, being pushed by a man. She looked into his face and recognized him. She went stiff with horror.
“You!” she whispered.
“Aye,” Miller grinned without amusement. “It’s me. And you’re useful to me. But not if you don’t shut up. Then I’ll have to kill you.”
The Highlander's Honorable Savior (Iron Of The Highlands Series) Page 17