“Where’s Ceana?”
“In the armoury. Ready to defend us all, I think.”
He bit back a groan. “Stay here,” he commanded and hoped the woman wouldn’t wander off.
Blane forced his way back through the womenfolk and into the entrance hall. He paused to speak to a woman by the gate. “Is everyone inside yet?”
“Aye, apart from the lads.”
“They’ll be back shortly but we cannae leave the gate down.”
The woman’s eyes rounded. “Ye dinnae mean to leave them outside, do ye?”
“If the English arrive before they do, they’ll be safer hiding in the hills somewhere anyway.”
Her throat worked and she nodded. Damn, he hadn’t meant to frighten the lass. Shaking his head at himself, he thrust a finger towards the hall. “Get yerself in there. We’ll be wanting to lock up the hall shortly too.”
She nodded and scurried away, leaving him to haul up the gate. The torches sputtered, swallowing him in a brief blanket of gloom before they came back to life. He sucked in the last rush of fresh air and paused to consider his next moves. Ten men attacking a castle seemed folly, yet it would be clear there were no defenders. If they broke through, they’d only find unarmed women and bairns. Cutting them down would be no trouble for hardened warriors.
If it came to that, Blane would draw them out. There was a small escape passage that led under the keep and out some distance away. He could come up behind them and take his revenge. Whether he’d survive the confrontation, he knew not, but if he could kill several of them, mayhap they would give up their campaign.
He let his lips twist into a smirk. Amusing how he’d not thought about survival before. When he’d been pursuing them, his own life had meant little. What did it matter if he lived or died attacking these men, so long as he spilled enough of their blood? But the thought of leaving Ceana alone to defend the keep made bitterness rise in his throat.
For her, he’d try damned hard to survive.
Blane pushed open the door to the armoury. Ceana spun, dropping the small dagger in her hand so that it clattered on the stone floor.
“Blane?”
How did she know it was him in this light? “Aye.”
Ceana rushed forward and crashed into him. He staggered, even under the slight weight of her, as unprepared as he was. Two scrawny arms latched about his neck and he wrapped an arm around her waist to draw her to him and used his other to shut the door. His back met the wood when she pressed her lips to his, firm and demanding.
Blane had no choice but to kiss her back. No choice but to accept the drugging feeling of her mouth upon his. It was as though she’d unleashed an animal within him. All the pounding apprehension that had driven the blood to race through his body turned into heavy desire.
“I thought ye’d leave us,” she murmured against his lips.
“Never.” He didn’t know if he meant now or for eternity. It seemed too soon to have that much of an attachment to her but he didn’t take the time to worry on it, not when her body was flat against his, rocking into his hardness.
“I thought ye’d try to fight them alone.” She kissed the corner of his mouth, and then down to his neck. “I thought ye’d be dead.”
He groaned at the feel of her small mouth on his skin. Blane didn’t deny the thought had entered his mind. But how could he leave her to defend herself? However, any chance to say as much disappeared like candle smoke when she pushed a desperate hand between them and cupped him.
“Ceana.” Her name came out like a plea or a prayer, he wasn’t sure which.
The animal inside him rose again, snarling and wild. He removed her hand and took control. Grasping her rear, he lifted her with ease and she latched her legs around him with a tiny cry. He backed her up to the table and placed her on it. A thin stretch of light slipped in through the arrow loop, highlighting her face. Any remaining sense departed him at the sight of those glistening blue pools gazing up at him.
“I’m going to take ye,” he warned, aware she couldn’t see the desire on his face.
“Aye.”
He came down again, kissing her deep until their breaths were ragged. With one hand, he hitched up her skirts, with the other he fumbled with her bodice to free a breast. She filled his palm, delicate and beautiful. Part of him longed to step back and view her, all wild hair and creamy skin, but the beast inside him needed nothing more than to be buried to the hilt in her.
The beast won. He cupped her hips and drew her forward. Wet, hot and ready. Blane thrust and she arched her back with a cry. Again. She writhed beneath him. Hard, fast, relentless. He took her much like he fought a battle, except the prize was far sweeter than victory. It was her pleasure.
And he felt it play out inside her in little ripples of response. Blane saw it on her face. She didn’t close her eyes as some women might and even though she could not see him, he saw everything in those eyes. Each moment of pleasure revealed itself. And in those parted lips and the little furrow between her brows.
Jaw tight, he pressed harder. One thrust. Another and another.
“Oh.” She gripped his arms, her nails creating a delightful sting.
Blood roared in his ears like the snarl of a beast. Close, so close.
“Aye. That’s it, wildling.” he urged.
Her body tightened around him and the bite of her nails grew sharper. She threw her head back, forcing him to hook an arm around her back and cradle her while he kept up the pace. Ceana released a cry and he leaned over to bite down on her shoulder. Her body spasmed. His eyes near rolled into the back of his head, such was the pleasure of feeling her body convulse around him. Long seconds passed. Her muscles eased and she became languid—his to use.
Blane clasped her to him, sliding into her with such ferocity that the table rocked and banged against the wall. A current of ecstasy surged through him and he gave one final thrust. Hot, searing, soul-shattering—his peak claimed him to the point that he forgot everything but the pleasure.
He spilled inside her.
Foolishly, he didn’t regret it. Even as he withdrew and tugged down her skirts. Mayhap because if she was with child, he’d not have to leave. Aye, a foolish thought indeed. She might set his soul on fire but their acquaintance was short and he knew nothing of caring for women and bairns, as had been proved.
Blane went to mutter an apology but she slid forward and clasped him tight. “Thank ye for coming back. I know this ‘tisnae yer fight.”
“’Tis my fight.”
He didn’t remind her that he could have saved her from all of this if he’d not been distracted. Hell, he hardly wanted her blaming herself. Ceana had a habit of taking on everything people could throw on those tiny shoulders.
“Where’s Kate?”
He eased her back, his hands to her waist. “She wasnae there.” Ceana tried to tear back but he held her firm. “Fraser has gone after her.”
“Fraser? Are ye mad?”
“I know ye dinnae trust him but he knows yer sister better than I. He said he knows where she’s gone and I believe him.”
“Blane...”
“Trust me, Ceana. For once, put yer faith in someone else. He’s a fierce lad and he cares for yer sister. He’ll see her safe.”
Doubt revealed itself in her pursed lips. “My father exiled him for a reason.”
“Men make mistakes. God knows, I’ve made many.” A dry smile cracked his face. “Och, I’m still making them.”
“Ye mean me.” Her hands came to her side and she appeared smaller than usual suddenly.
“Nay.” Blane drew her close once more. “Spilling inside ye, aye. I shouldnae have put ye in that position. But ye, nay. Ye’ll never be a mistake.”
She lifted her chin and her gaze searched his face. He had little idea what she saw, if anything, but he kept his face resolute. Aye, he’d made countless mistakes of late, but if he could see them through this and ensure the Sassenachs paid, he wasn’t sure he could re
gret being distracted by this lass.
Chapter Nine
Some relief filled Ceana when the rest of the lads returned. But there was still no sign of Kate. Heaviness weighted her heart. She watched the boys filter into the hall and move up to defence positions. She shook her head to herself. They had lads doing men’s jobs. This wasn’t fair.
Ceana patted her mother’s shoulder. “I’m going to find Blane.” She wanted to find out if there had been any word of her sister and to check what the lads had seen.
“Aye, dear. Ye do that.”
Her mother seemed oblivious to the danger Kate could be in and for that, she was grateful. She pushed past the women and children crowding the hall, pausing to give reassurance and apologise when she bumped into people. Finding her way across was harder than usual without being able to keep track properly of exactly where she was with her feet.
She moved into the coolness of the hallway and paused when she heard Blane’s voice.
“Keep this quiet, stay low. If Ceana—”
“Blane?” The two figures swivelled toward her voice. He bit back a groan. Ceana came to his side, putting out a hand to find his arm. “What do ye wish to keep quiet?”
He heaved a breath. “Yer sister...is in the hands of the English.”
Silence deafened. Her eyes grew wider then she released a tiny puff of sound. Ceana’s legs seemed to give way and Blane grabbed her, held her up against him. Tiny tremors ran through her body.
“She’s alive?”
“Aye,” Blane said.
“The Sassenachs...” Fraser’s voice came out tight, full of anguish. “They have her.”
Ceana heard the pain there—the sort of pain that rips a man apart. This man loved her sister.
“I couldnae even get close to her. I dinnae know if they realise how important she is or if they’re keeping her for sport, but they had her bound and surrounded. God’s bones, I should—”
“Ye’d have put her life at risk if ye’d have tried anything,” Blane told him.
“We cannae leave her in their hands.” Fraser gave a huff of frustration.
“I agree, but we cannae leave the villagers vulnerable either.” Blane held her closer.
“So what do we do?” Her fingers dug into his arm. “Why did ye no’ want to tell me?”
“Because ye’d have wanted to tear apart those men yerself.”
She lifted her chin. “Aye, I do.”
“There’s naught ye can do.”
“Ye cannae be suggesting we leave her?”
“I’m suggesting we dinnae abandon yer people to go after her. Kate is a brave lass. She’ll be fine until we can get her back.”
She tried to pull away but Blane would not allow it. He seemed determined to give her comfort whether she liked it or not. Ceana released a small sob and burrowed her head against his chest.
“I will get her back,” Fraser swore.
Ceana twisted her head to view the lad and nodded slowly. She could almost hear the determination and love he had in him for Kate.
“Let us get ye into the hall. Fraser, we shall move up to the ramparts.”
“Nay, I am coming too,” she declared.
“Nay, yer staying below where ‘tis safe.”
She gave a mutinous look but relented. “Send me word when the English arrive.”
Part of her longed to fight him, but what could she do? She had a duty to these people and she had to trust that her sister would be fine. He gave her a swift kiss as Fraser left and escorted her into the crowded hall. She sought out her mother while he made his way up onto the ramparts where the rest of the young lads awaited their enemy. She knew they were in for a long night.
Night fell and the heat in the castle dispersed. Ceana worked to keep everyone warm and fed and she was grateful for the distraction. What if Kate had been harmed or worse? She’d never forgive herself for not taking better care of her.
She paused in offering drinks around when Fraser approached.
“They’re here,” Fraser told her.
“They will not get in,” she replied as a spear of dread shot through her.
“Nay, they will not.” He drew her aside. “They have Kate with them.”
Ceana fought to draw breath as a noose of tension wrapped itself about her neck. “Is she unharmed?”
“It seems so though ‘tis hard to tell.”
“What do they want?”
“Coin.”
“But we have none.”
“They dinnae know that.”
Ceana glanced around the busy hall. “Is Blane on the ramparts?”
“Aye.”
“What does he say of this?”
“I think it likely he will attempt to slip out and rescue her himself. He willnae let us act.” Fraser’s expression grew dark. “I willnae let her be harmed, milady. I wish to see her safe. Say the word and I shall bring her back to ye.”
Offering him a reassuring pat to the arm, she felt herself soften toward this young man. He clearly cared deeply for her sister and would do all he could to protect her.
However, any affection she was beginning to feel for Fraser was marred by the deep well of dread pooling in her stomach. Blane likely intended to put himself in harm’s way to save her sister. It was her fault he was here, her fault her sister had behaved as she had. Blane owed them nothing, and she refused to see him likely killed in some foolish rescue attempt.
Certainty filled her. She’d be left in charge of this castle and its occupants. She had to be the one to act. Blane had already been drawn into a battle that was not his and had gone through so much. It wasn’t fair of her to have thrust this responsibility on him. But first she had to ensure Blane did nothing yet.
“Let me see what we can offer in ransom. Mamaidh may have some jewels. Tell Blane he must not act yet. And neither must ye.”
Fraser nodded. “As ye bid, milady.”
She waited until he was gone and sought out her mother. When she gave her a quick hug, her mother snatched her arm.
“What are ye doing, lass? Yer about to do something reckless, are ye no’? I can tell.”
“Nothing reckless, Mamaidh. Dinnae fear for me.”
“I never have, lass. Even when we knew of yer eyes, I knew ye were strong and courageous. But that doesnae mean ye have to do everything alone. Let yer strong warrior aid ye. He likes to be looked to, I can tell.”
“Aye. I know.”
Ceana kissed her mother’s head and moved through to the rear of the castle. She tried not to think about how furious Blane would be, but she had to be the one to remedy this. As the glow of torches faded, she switched to relying on her memory and senses to guide her.
How she would fare once in the hands of the English with no sight, she knew not.
As promised, her world turned dark once she escaped through the rear of the castle. She followed the path from memory around, careful to keep her footsteps quiet even as her heart sounded like a battle drum to her ears. Once she came upon the rock that told her she was a fair distance from the keep, she headed back to where the English would be. They would have no idea where she had escaped from and thus her people would be safe.
Ceana bit back a curse when she nearly stumbled over a loose rock. Her palms were clammy and perspiration on her skin made her shudder in the cold night air. The unknown was all about her, in the odd sounds and the ground that wasn't so familiar in the pitch dark. But mostly in the complete blindness that swallowed her.
“Who goes there?”
She stilled. She had half-expected to run into the armoured chest of an Englishman before coming upon their position. This at least saved her from giving away her weakness.
She hoped.
“The lady of the keep,” she called in English, grateful her voice betrayed no fear.
Footsteps. Then a hand to her arm, hard and painful.
Ceana clamped her mouth shut and refused to give into any gasps of surprise that threatened to break free.
“Why do you come to us?” the man asked. His voice was low, almost a growl. He reminded her of a wolf.
Dragged bodily for several paces, Ceana managed to keep herself upright even though her shoes caught on several rocks and ridges in the path. She suspected they were not far from the front of the keep. She only hoped Blane did not see her or else this would never work.
“I have come to make negotiations for my sister,” she announced when the pull on her arm ceased.
The scent of unwashed men surrounded her. There were murmurs and shuffling footsteps. How many there were, she knew not. Were they surrounding her? Readying themselves to do with her as they wished? She lifted her chin. For her sister, her people...and Blane, she would do whatever she could to protect them.
“You bring coin?” another voice asked.
“Nay, a prize worth more.”
“And what is this prize?” the wolf man demanded.
“Myself.”
A ripple of low laughter circled about her. She licked her dry lips and kept her spine straight. Mayhap she had made a foolish decision. She certainly couldn't rely on these men having honour. She may well have condemned her and her sister to death. But she had to try.
“Why would we take you instead of her?”
There was tiny cry and she realised Kate was not far from her. “Ceana,” her sister cried softly. “What are ye doing?”
Fighting the desire to reach out and find her sister, to ensure she was safe, Ceana turned her attention to the source of the wolf voice.
“I am the eldest daughter of Chief Donal of the Malcolm Clan. I am worth more than my sister. Ransom me to my father and ye shall gain many riches.”
“Worth more than a virgin daughter? I think not.”
Ceana swallowed, her mind racing. It had not occurred to her they might think Kate more valuable still. But then she was an eldest daughter and not an eldest son. Of course they would see no value in her. The English tradition of prizing sons over daughters was not unknown in Scotland but many a Scottish daughter had fought for and led her clan. Just as she intended to fight for her clan now.
“I am...” She cleared her throat. “I am also married to the future chief. He will pay much for my safety.”
Her Highland Defender Page 8