But he drew himself up and nodded briefly at Isabelle. “Sean, will ye watch the camp taenight? I must go. I have a duty tae the men. I must go after them tae make sure that their course is steady.”
Sean looked at him with surprise. “What? Are ye mad, brother? Go out alone?”
Eamon cringed, worried about what Sean would think of his next words. “Nae, nae alone. I ride with Cutler’s daughter.”
Sean laughed bitterly and stood to face his brother eye to eye. “I knew it. Ye take yer woman, and ye leave us tae die! I knew ye would weaken and leave when ye had the chance!”
Eamon’s stomach tightened. He was shocked by Sean’s vehement reaction. He stepped back a little as if to escape the range of his brother’s ire. “Sean, dinnae be ridiculous! I came tae ye with the news of Cutler’s arrival tae begin with! To ride after Gareth and Donovan is a good plan. Ye will see. If the men are captured, then at least we will know where they are and how we can save them.”
Sean shook his head. “Eamon Wilson, how do I know that ye will nae also be captured or leave us as I think ye are wont tae do?”
Sean’s voice had softened a little, but the edge of anger and doubt remained. Eamon felt helpless, and his own rage swelled at his brother’s doubt. “Brother, ye cannae know such a thing. Only the Almighty knows the future. All I can tell ye is that I promised I would prove myself tae ye, but ye need tae give me a chance tae do so.” The two of them ended their words, breathing hard near each other’s faces. Eamon was done asking questions. He understood the doubts and fears of his men, but he could not bear them all himself.
He pulled away from Sean and walked towards Isabelle. “We hope tae return taenight, brother.”
“And the lady’s maid? What are we tae do with her?”
“Keep her safe, of course. Her mistress will return as soon as she is able.”
Eamon fled towards the horses and did not look back. Isabelle walked hurriedly beside him, wrapped in a long cloak. His instinct was to pull her by the elbow again, but then he remembered he did not want to get slapped in the face for forgetting such an easy instruction. His whole body was tense with emotion. He knew that behind him, Sean was stewing and might very well begin to poison his own men against him, if that was possible. He couldn’t believe Sean’s accusation, but he had to begrudgingly admit, it did look suspicious.
He would have to make sure that they did return, or else he knew that Sean would assume the worst, and they might flee the area on their own. They approached Aine, and in the dark, the horse shivered as he approached. He reached out for her and smoothed her mane softly. “Lass, it is only me. We have an important job for ye tae do this night.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Isabelle reach out her hand to brush Aine’s nose. He was glad it was dark, or else she would have seen him color with embarrassment. He kept forgetting that others were around when he went to talk to his horse. “What a beautiful horse, Eamon. She is sweet as well.”
Eamon nodded. “Aye, she has seen me through many troubles. I hope that taenight is nae her last ride.”
Isabelle moved her hand from the horse to his arm. “It will not be. There is always hope if you know where to look,” she said softly in the darkness. He could only see the outline of her face, but he felt the heat coming from her hand.
He coughed to get out of her embrace, and he slid up onto the horse. “Come, lass, ye will ride with me.”
She crinkled her nose at him for a moment. “I see. To keep an eye on me, I suppose? Keep your enemies closer?”
He chuckled. “If ye like.” He reached out to swing her behind him, and she slid in snugly, wrapping her arms about him once more. He pointed Aine towards the shining glint of the river. “I shall trust in ye just this once, Sassenach. Ye are the one full of brilliant plans.”
“Brilliant, you say? Why I never expected such a compliment, Mr. Wilson. I thought it was men who only had good ideas.”
He could sense the sarcasm in her voice, and he knew he was being baited. “Think as ye please, Isabelle. We ride tae the village first.”
They trotted along, picking up speed, and the cold wind rushed over them. Isabelle leaned up so that she could whisper in Eamon’s ear. Her breath was warm against his skin, and he could feel his cock harden with the image of putting his mouth on hers as well as many other places on her body. She said, “Are there any forts or large castles nearby? If my father has fled the village unscathed, he would most assuredly go to someplace like that.”
Eamon grinned. He would never tell her, but she was a better partner than many of his own men. She thought logically and produced good plans. Even though this plan seemed risky, foolhardy, and it had cost him an argument with his brother, he trusted this woman. With her arms wrapped around him, Eamon felt comfort and safety he hadn’t felt since he’d left his family all those years ago. For a brief moment, his father’s face flashed in his mind. It was a kind face, and Eamon had not thought of him for many years to avoid the pain and guilt that had come with thinking about his father. But for some reason now, with Isabelle behind him, the image brought no pain.
It only made him think of the moments he had lost now that his father was gone. There were many good memories, and the only sadness he felt now was the fact that he could not have anymore. He would have to make new memories with new people that he loved. He felt Isabelle tap him on the shoulder. “Are you listening, Highlander? Are there castles nearby?”
He said back towards her as he searched for the dim lights of Drumnadrochit in the distance, “Aye, I believe they would head tae Urquhart Castle. It is the best place for them tae escape tae if they dinnae wish tae go too far. It is right on Loch Ness, and it is abandoned, so they would have nae one tae fight tae take possession of it.”
“Yes! Then that must be where he has gone!” Eamon could feel Isabelle’s excitement in the way her arms tensed around him, and he smiled to himself as he rode hard, back along the river’s bend towards Drumnadrochit. It was late, but the tavern would still be open if Cutler had not destroyed it before he left. It was not far, and they were soon alighting in the center of town. Eamon tied Aine to a wooden post by the tavern, and before heading inside, Eamon turned to Isabelle.
“Keep yer hood up, lass. We dinnae want any of the villagers tae recognize ye.” Isabelle nodded to him, and instinctively, he reached back to grab her hand. He could hear her draw in a quick breath, but then she gripped his hand tightly in return. Once they were inside, Eamon led them to a table. “I know we dinnae have much time, but I think it wise we sit and drink afore asking questions.”
He looked around before walking towards the innkeeper, coin in his hand. He paid for two pints and brought them back to the table. He was feeling tense, unsure of how to proceed just yet, but he knew that Isabelle would know what to do. At least in outward appearance, she seemed a lot more cool-headed than he. They sat for a moment in silence. Isabelle whispered. “How far is the castle from here?”
“It is nae far, but we will have to ride to find a place to cross the river. The loch is wide and deep.”
Isabelle smiled. “Yes, I remember it. It is not far from where we camped last, but my father much prefers the protection of walls than tents.” She sighed. “If only I had more time to view this beautiful country. Loch Ness was like a lovely blue mirror. It is a vision in the moonlight. This land is more enchanting than England by far.”
He smiled, pointing to her pint. “I hope ye dinnae object tae our drink either. Perhaps it is nae proper for an English lady tae consume.” Isabelle’s eyes laughed as she picked up the cup and took a large sip. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and Eamon chuckled.
“It is not proper, you are correct. But what do I care for propriety any longer? I know I have been kidnapped, but I feel the most marvelous freedom.”
“Well, I suppose that doesnae put yer father in a good light, although he doesnae have one anyway.”
Isabelle grinned, but then it falter
ed. “Eamon, I do hope that your friends have not been captured. My father is an incredibly brutal man. He would do nothing short of skinning them alive to get his revenge.”
Eamon’s hands clenched around his cup. “Aye, I feared that was so. And the boy. If yer father finds out what the boy has done for us, then he will surely kill him as well.” Eamon noticed Isabelle color a little and look down. “Do ye know the boy well, lass? Has he been with yer family long?”
Isabelle had paled a little, but Eamon thought it was simply about her concern for his men. “Yes, he has been with our family for a very long time. We are nearly kin. I hope for his safety as well.” Eamon was about to respond, but since their pints were finished, he knew he had to get moving. He walked back to the innkeeper, who was cleaning a cup.
“Innkeeper, might I trouble ye for a bit of information?”
The man was older, looked a little life-weary, but he was kind. “Aye, lad, what do ye need?”
“That man Cutler. Did he make it out of the village alive?” Eamon had lowered his voice ever so slightly, his eyes wary of eavesdroppers.
The old man’s eyes moistened. “Aye, the bastard. We nearly had him, and we took many of his weapons and killed a few of his men. But he and the others got away. At least it was entertaining enough tae watch their fleeing figures.”
Eamon nodded. He admitted to himself that he was disappointed. He had hoped for the smallest chance that Cutler had perished, and then he would be free of this entire mess, and no more blood would have to be spilled. “I imagine so. Could ye tell me something else? Did two men come by here earlier tae ask about Cutler’s whereabouts?”
“Aye, aye. Two young men. They seemed secretive, just like yerself. I told them where I had seen the man flee to.”
“Urquhart?”
“I imagine so. Cutler was heading that direction. The men rode that way a few hours ago.” The old man looked nervous. But, I am a little afraid for them, Sir. For once they left after speaking tae me, I saw a suspicious man stand up and follow them out.”
Chapter Thirteen
Isabelle felt sick. She was glad that Eamon had taken their moment of silence to go make inquiries to the innkeeper. She didn’t think she would be able to bear talking about the boy anymore. Just in these few moments, she could sense her feelings grow for Eamon. He frustrated her with his lack of confidence and his ridiculous ideas about women, but she knew he was a good man. Now that they’d shared a laugh and a drink together, her heart was beating with affection. It was so loud, she felt that Eamon could probably hear it too.
So once he left the table to go speak to the innkeeper, Isabelle took a few deep breaths, hoping to calm herself before his return. How long can I go on deceiving him? He may never want to see me again once he finds out who I am and what I have done! She felt the weight of her deception like a stone upon her shoulders, and she saw no way out of this. There was no time to tell him, and once the kidnapping was over, she would be returned to her father and probably never see Eamon again.
Unless I tell him of my feelings. This thought began to bounce around in her brain as she watched his back. She could tell him, but what would that achieve? He was a ranger, living off the land and riding from one meal to the next. There was no way he would want to be tied down to a woman, even though she knew there was something going on between them, however small. She could feel it in the way he tensed when she wrapped her arms around him as they rode. She could see it in his dark eyes, for they would sparkle and lighten when she was near. And of course, there had been that kiss, so passionate, so all-consuming.
But she was a Sassenach, and he a Highlander. They were from two different worlds, no matter how much her heart yearned for him to take her as his own, to make love to her, and to marry her. She felt silly for her feminine thoughts, since she yearned for her own freedom, and perhaps marriage would only entrap her further. But she knew it would not be so with Eamon. If he felt the same way. He turned around and came back to her, and her heart sped up again as she saw the concern on his face.
“We go, lass.” He reached out for her hand, and without question, she took it as they left the tavern.
Once they were atop Aine, she whispered, “What is it? What did the innkeeper say?”
“He said that Gareth and Donovan came in to ask him questions about Cutler as well. They rode towards the castle only a few hours ago, but there is something else.”
Isabelle’s stomach sank. She knew something was wrong. “What is it?”
“The innkeeper says he saw a suspicious-looking man stand up and follow them once Gareth and Donovan left the inn.”
“Oh, no. It could have been one of my father’s men. I will pray for your friends’ safety. There is still a chance we could save them.” She spoke the words, but she did not believe them in her heart. She knew that they had been taken. “Let us ride. No one follows us. We will be safe. If there are prisoners with my father, then all the men will be there to protect the castle.”
Eamon nodded and coughed. “There is one more thing, lass.” Aine was trotting slowly towards the river. “The innkeeper said that this man had also asked about you. The innkeeper didnae know anything, of course, but the man was angry.”
“He did not get a good look at the man?”
Eamon shook his head. “Nae. He was bearded and hooded. And the innkeeper keeps the lights dim in the tavern.”
Isabelle sat back a little, unsure of what to think. “So perhaps my father has sent out a search party to look for me? And that is who the man was? He could have been simply riding back towards the castle to inform my father that he had not found me, not to follow Gareth and Donovan.”
“Perhaps.” Eamon sighed and pushed Aine into a faster canter. In half an hour’s fast ride, they could see the dark outline of Urquhart in the distance. It was old and misshapen.
“Is that the castle?” Isabelle whispered and pointed. “Why does it look so strange? It gives me a very bad feeling, Eamon.” She wrapped her arms around him a little tighter.
He slowed. “It was burned years ago tae stop Jacobites from meeting. So now nae one really uses it, but it is a popular spot for English officers. It is better than sleeping out in the open, so exposed under the stars.” He clucked to Aine, and the horse stopped. He jumped down and turned to take Isabelle down from the horse.
He kept his hands on her waist once her feet had touched the ground. The moon peeked through the clouds, and she could see his face. She never wanted him to let her go, but they had to move. She whispered. “We must be careful. They could be watching the outside of the castle, although if the men are captured, they could be celebrating. If only I had a bow.” They clasped hands once more and moved silently through the tall grasses.
“Ye can use a bow?” Eamon asked with incredulity. Isabelle turned to him swiftly.
“Is this about to be another time where you underestimate women and their abilities? Yes, I can use a bow. We are not as completely helpless as you believe.”
Eamon tried to utter something, but she placed a finger upon his lips, lingering there for a moment. “There is nothing more to discuss, Highlander. Come. I can see the light in the windows. Do you hear that?”
Eamon nodded, and they moved a little bit closer. The men were singing. “What in the Bloody Hell!”
Isabelle felt a slight comfort in the fact that men would not be on as strict of patrol if whisky and port were making their way around the group. Especially with the foolish soldiers from Fort Augustus on hand. But then she knew what it meant. She spotted a small group of soldiers on the landing high above them, and she pointed to them wordlessly. She yanked Eamon towards her, and they moved even closer to the ruined castle walls. Isabelle found a place where the tall grasses met with the wall, and she pushed Eamon back up against it. He opened his mouth, and she placed her finger on his lips again, giving him a warning look.
She pressed her back against the wall as well, and they both looked up to listen to the
men above.
One drunken voice slurred out, “Cutler is going mad, I think, boys!” The man laughed.
“Too true! He is tickled to have gotten those Scotsmen under his roof. He is planning his revenge. It will be bloody.” Isabelle could hear the slurping of drink as they paused to consume. She turned to Eamon, whose solemn face told her he had made out their words despite the English men’s struggle to articulate clearly.
“Tell me, how did he find them?”
“He sent that Norring man out. Norring was looking for that beautiful daughter of his who disappeared at Drumnadrochit, but he could not find her. He came across those two men heading towards the castle, and he ambushed them. What fools!” The men laughed together and headed further into the castle and out of hearing. Isabelle felt her eyes grow moist. Oh, if only my father wasn’t such a brute! Then perhaps there could be hope for mercy!
She was about to pull Eamon back towards the horse when the two of them heard footsteps coming around the side of the castle. At that moment, the moon slipped behind a dark cloud again, and she thanked the Heavens for its help to cover them. She pushed away from the wall as quickly as she could and laid her front against Eamon’s. “The cloak!” she mouthed, and he hurried to grab it to bend down and cover himself and her.
Taken by her Highland Enemy: He was running from his past; she was fighting for her future... Page 11