The Knight's Temptress (Lairds of the Loch)

by Amanda Scott

  “Sakes, lass, that sounds like the sort of nightmare a man has after a night of too much drinking,” Ian said. “You will have to do better than that.”

  “I cannot help what it sounds like. I have never endured such a thing before. Nor do I think that aught occurred on our wedding night to account for it.”

  “Our wedding night!” But as he said it, he recalled her mentioning that night just moments before—something about trying to speak to him then.

  “Right in the middle of things, aye,” she said. “Moreover, I do not think I’ve ever before dreamed the same thing twice, let alone four times—or whilst standing on stairs or staring at a fire. You must heed me, sir, but let us walk as we talk. We can come back later for your horse. Forbye, he may have returned to his stable.”

  “Since his stable is at Dunglass, I hope he did not. But he is well tethered, lass, so we must fetch him.” He spoke a bit distantly, because he was thinking of all that she had said and recalling his sense that she had seemed distracted… at the highest point of their first coupling!

  Wanting to shriek at him that they had no time to fetch his horse but knowing that if she did, she would more likely inflame his temper with hers than persuade him of anything, Lina forced herself to calm down. She hoped that if she could compose herself, he might grow calmer, too. That had sometimes happened with Lizzie, so perhaps it might work with Ian, too.

  Quietly, she said again, “Mam is in grave danger. I know that as well as I know that you stand here, Ian. You have spoken of the magic of Tùr Meiloach—”

  “This is not Tùr Meiloach,” he said curtly.

  Clearly, her self-imposed calm was not affecting him.

  “I am as sure of her danger as I can be,” she said. “Prithee, sir, believe me.”

  “You are imagining things, lass,” he said. Then, apparently noting that she had stiffened at those words, he added hastily, “We can walk a bit farther as we talk. But I’ll wager that your mother is simply returning to Bannachra.”

  “Walk swiftly, then,” she said, relieved but more fearful than ever for Lady Aubrey. “The place she seeks lies this way. I was too busy trying to follow her without letting her see me to think about the distance, so I am not sure how far.”

  “Aye, I can imagine that she might have been peeved to catch her daughter spying on her. By my troth, Lina—”

  “If you saw your mother behaving as you had never known her to behave before,” she said, “would you not want to know why she did so? If she suddenly became furtive, watchful, and nervous, would you not be concerned for her?”

  “I would,” he agreed, trying but failing to imagine his amiable, ever-sedate mother in such a role. “To tell the truth, lass, my mind flatly rejects such an image.”

  “Just so,” she said. “My mother is also unlikely to behave in such a way. But for days now, perhaps a sennight, she has behaved oddly. And then, suddenly, Lady Margaret declared that she wanted to return to Bannachra.”

  “What demon possessed the woman?”

  “She said it was because Father doubled the guard at Tùr Meiloach. Strife unsettles her, she said. In troth, she is a woman who likes solitude. But she is also indolent and hates traveling. I suspect she declared her intent to leave because Mam wanted to come back here and could offer no other good reason to do so.”

  “Sakes, did she have a good reason to come with Lady Margaret?”

  “Aye, sure, a plausible one, too. She said it was unseemly for Lady Margaret to travel so far with only men as companions. Since she had not brought her woman with her to Tùr Meiloach, even my father saw naught amiss in Mam’s coming here with her. The flaw in their plan, if it was a plan between them, was that Mam did not suggest that her own woman should travel with her. So when I said that I would come with them, she could hardly forbid it.”

  “I don’t understand. If she was scheming, why did she let you come?”

  “How could she not? She had just said that Lady Margaret needed female company. Then I said I should go, too, so Mam would not find herself in that same predicament when she wanted to return home. Good sakes, sir, even Father would have wondered if she had refused to let me come with them after that.”

  “But she is the Seer in the family, is she not? If it was dangerous for her to come here, would she not know it?”

  “Her foresight almost never predicts aught that will personally affect her,” Lina explained. “It did warn her to leave Arrochar all those years ago when it was under Pharlain’s attack, but it has never let her know if my father’s charters will protect Tùr Meiloach or if he will win back his chiefdom.”

  “He will win it back,” Ian said, putting a welcome arm around her shoulders. “We’ll see to that, betwixt the lot of us.”

  The woods ahead of them seemed to darken then, and Lina held up a hand. “Listen,” she murmured. “Do you hear voices?”

  Ian did hear them and recognized Lady Aubrey’s voice by its calm firmness.

  “I expect that you are gey pleased with yourself,” she said. “I came to meet you here only to tell you that you have wasted your time and will continue to waste it if you threaten me or my family again.”

  “Lest ye’ve failed to notice, madam, ye’re nae longer on Tùr Meiloach’s soil. Moreover, we are alone here, and ye’ve nae defense against me. So ye’d do better to keep your word.” The voice, unmistakably Dougal’s, was harsh, his tone confident.

  Ian reached back for the sword in his baldric but stopped with his hand still raised when her ladyship spoke again.

  “It matters not if we are on Tùr Meiloach’s ground or in some other place,” she said. “You named me Seer, Dougal MacPharlain, so you should believe me when I tell you, you won’t harm me. Nor would your father thank you if you did.”

  “Ye do not control me, nor can ye ken what my father would do or not do. Where are the charters I commanded ye to bring me?”

  Hearing Lina gasp beside him, Ian put a finger to her lips. Then, motioning for her to stay where she was, he drew his gloves from his belt and pulled them on as he stepped silently toward the voices.

  “The charters are safe,” Lady Aubrey said.

  “Believe me, madam, before I release ye, ye’ll tell me where they lie.”

  “Nay, Dougal. They belong neither to you nor to me, so I will not.”

  Ian moved closer. He could see the two of them through the trees ahead.

  “Then Andrew Dubh will bring them,” Dougal said. “If I take ye hostage, I’ll wager it will not take him long, either, not with your life at stake.”

  “As I said, you will not harm me,” she said. “Not only would your father recoil at such a thing, but my Campbell kinsmen would cease to receive you or anyone else for whom you declare support. They would also seek vengeance.”

  “D’ye think so? I do not. Ye fail to understand the importance of one man whom your Campbells do support most strongly. But that matters not to either of us now. I have nae cause yet to harm ye. But ye’ll come with me, madam. Now.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Ye will. Ye’ll come either willingly or by force. Choose how.”

  Leaving his sword where it was, Ian silently slipped his dirk from its sheath.

  Moving as silently as Ian, Lina followed him and felt as if her heart were trying to thump its way out of her chest. She had all she could do not to shout at Dougal that he was not alone with her mother. When Ian drew his dirk, she wanted to stop him, to tell him to put it back, lest Lady Aubrey be hurt.

  That Dougal would dare to threaten Lady Aubrey was bad enough. That he had expected her to bring him the charters for the Arrochar estates horrified Lina.

  Had her mother agreed to such a betrayal?

  Lina’s imagination rejected that thought as swiftly as Ian’s had rejected the image of his own mother behaving furtively or even nervously. Lady Aubrey would do naught to jeopardize her beloved husband’s chiefdom.

  How had Dougal got here ahead of them? Had he been ri
ding with James Mòr’s lot and she somehow failed to see him? How had he known where to go?

  Ian looked back then and caught her gaze. Anger, nay fury, contorted his features and he gestured unmistakably for her to back off.

  Instead, she moved more quickly toward him.

  Lady Aubrey cried out.

  When Ian turned toward the sound, Lina dashed past him to the edge of the clearing beyond. The strangely formed tree she had recalled stood ahead of her as it had before. Beneath it, she saw that Dougal, wearing a leather jack, breeks, and boots, had grabbed her mother.

  He had not seen her yet, so Lina stood where she was.

  Lady Aubrey struggled to free herself until Dougal twisted her arm hard.

  “Leave her be!” Lina cried.

  To her shock, Dougal grinned at her and twisted Lady Aubrey’s arm harder, bringing her to her knees. To Lina, he said, “Come here to me, or I’ll break her arm. Two hostages must always be better than one.”

  “I don’t think you’ll take any hostage today,” Ian said from behind Lina.

  The fury in his voice, she knew, was meant as much for her as it was for Dougal. But she was glad to hear Ian’s voice. Even his heavy hand on her shoulder, holding her firmly in place while he stepped in front of her, was a comfort.

  Dougal put two fingers to his lips and whistled. “To me, lads!” he shouted.

  In a rush of terror, Lina expected to see a large force of men-at-arms leap from the trees and shrubbery. When two men with swords and dirks drawn stepped into view beyond Lady Aubrey, Lina tried to tell herself that two were nothing. But her knees declared otherwise, quaking so that they threatened to buckle beneath her.

  Three men could surely overwhelm and kill one, knight of the realm or not.

  “Run, lass,” Ian snapped without looking back at her.

  But she could not. Her weakened knees would fail to support her. In any event, her feet would not move. Terror for her mother and for Ian, or some equally powerful force of which she had no ken, froze her where she stood.

  Knowing as well as if he were watching her that Lina had not moved, Ian wished he could pick her up and throw her to safety. That being impossible, he watched the two swiftly approaching swordsmen and cursed himself for not having brought at least two of his own men with him.

  That thought withered away at birth. Lina’s actions had angered and terrified him, but he would not have let others see his anger with her or his fear. That was not in his nature. He would never purposely expose her errors or foolhardiness to anyone else, especially to any man who served him. He would attend to her himself.

  “Come to me, lads,” he murmured. Gripping his dirk with his left hand, keeping the right one poised to draw his sword, he glanced at Dougal. Would the man attack him, order his minions to do it, or would all three charge him at once?

  Dougal jerked Lady Aubrey to her feet. Pulling a thin rope from his jack, he swiftly tied her wrists behind her and shoved her back down to the ground.

  Then, as the other two men stepped into the clearing, Dougal said curtly, “Kill him and don’t waste time about it.”

  “Coward,” Ian said loudly as the other two stalked toward him, widening the distance between them as they did. He knew they hoped he would be unable to watch them both closely enough that way. Still speaking to Dougal, he said, “I expect you always have others do your work for you, you hen-hearted coof.”

  “It is what I pay them for and why I brought them,” Dougal retorted. “I own, though, I never expected to see ye here, Colquhoun. I thought ye’d be stalking deer today with your da and the others.”

  “Just how do you know about that?” Ian asked, keeping his eyes on the other two. “You’ve been cowering at home ever since you let your captives escape.”

  “When my lads finish with ye, if they leave aught to question, I’ll learn how ye came to marry our Lina. Not that that matters now. One day, I’ll own all of Arrochar, including Tùr Meiloach. Then I’ll leave it to mine own heirs at the end.”

  From a too-short distance behind Ian, Lina said, “You will have no heirs, and Tùr Meiloach will reject you.” But Ian dared not turn. He continued to watch the two swordsmen, only one of whom had paused at Lina’s words.

  “You, Dougal MacPharlain, lack proper respect for Tùr Meiloach,” she went on sternly. “You should give thanks to the Fates that you do not stand on its sacred soil now, because that very soil would betray you. But you will learn your error. By my troth, if you fail to change your wicked ways, you will rue them sorely.”

  “Lass, ye’re devilish insolent,” Dougal said. “Either that, or ye’re a witch and a daft one at that. ’Tis as well I didna marry ye.”

  “You will marry no MacFarlan. But you should heed my warning,” Lina went on solemnly. “As punishment for your crimes against the true chief of Clan Farlan, the Fates have decreed that one whom you deem a friend will betray you.”

  Hearing those words and her eerily distant tone, Ian felt a chill slither up his spine. His left hand tightened on his dirk, and he reached back with his right hand to draw his sword. But he had no need to move quickly.

  His two would-be opponents stood gaping at Lina, their swords wavering.

  Dougal likewise seemed to have grown roots, and his face was ashen. But he recovered faster than the others did. “Kill him, damn ye!” he snapped.

  When the two warriors moved to engage Ian, Dougal left Lady Aubrey long enough to skirt the three swordsmen, grab Lina, and drag her to join her mother.

  Livid, but unable to confront Dougal without first dispatching the other two, Ian leaped to the attack.

  Chapter 18

  Not another word,” Dougal snarled at Lina, gripping her tightly enough to leave bruises. “If ye think I won’t kill ye, ye’re wrong.”

  Fighting to regain senses that seemed to have deserted her, Lina also fought to regain her calm. She had a vague notion that she had said something that had made Dougal angry. She had heard him clearly enough when he shouted at his men to attack Ian. But whatever occurred before that was just a buzz without meaning.

  “Did ye hear me?” Dougal demanded, giving her a shake.

  “Aye, sure, you said you would kill me. So what if you did?” Lina asked, struggling now to ignore the clanging swords behind him. “Do you think you can force my lady mother and me to go all the way to Arrochar with you? You’d not get past Inch Galbraith with us.”

  “We won’t go that way,” Dougal said, feeling inside his jack, doubtless for more rope. “A boat will fetch us at the Loch of the Long Boats.”

  “We ken fine that James Mòr escaped from Dumbarton,” Lina said, shooting a glance at her mother and noting that she was lying as she had lain in the vision. “I suspect, too, that he thinks you helped Lizzie and me escape.”

  “He has nae ken of that,” Dougal said. “If ye’re thinking of yon scrap—”

  “I’m thinking not only that you asked him to let you have me, but also, as far as I could tell, that you and the manservant who brought our food had the only keys to our chamber. Since I saw that man with others in the yard when we slipped away, I ken fine that he will have witnesses aplenty to say that he did nowt to aid us.”

  “I don’t know how ye escaped,” Dougal admitted, shifting slightly to look toward Lady Aubrey. “Nor do I care. I do care that ye left that message, trying to make it look as if I’d released ye. But, since James Mòr never saw it and expects my father and me to see him to safety, he won’t care what becomes of ye.”

  The noise of clanging swords in the clearing had diminished.

  Glancing that way, realizing that Dougal no longer blocked her view of the combatants, she saw that one villain had fallen. Just then the second one leaped at Ian, sword raised in both hands as if to split him in half from head to toe.

  Before she could react, Ian danced nearer the man and eluded the descending sword. When the too-powerful, irreversible stroke brought his opponent within reach, Ian drove his dirk upward w
ith his left hand in a powerful arc. Thrusting the weapon’s point in just below the man’s ribs, Ian lifted him to his toes with it.

  The man’s sword fell to the ground near his erstwhile companion in arms. When Ian yanked his dirk free, the man collapsed at his feet with a thud.

  Looking at Dougal, she saw that his face had paled. Then color flooded back, and he shoved her with so much force that she tripped and fell over Lady Aubrey.

  Snatching up his sword, Dougal growled an epithet and strode toward Ian.

  Lina rolled off her mother and to her feet. But as she did, Lady Aubrey said urgently, “Let be, love, and keep silent. You must not interfere.”

  Knowing that her mother was right made no difference to Lina’s feelings. But she ruthlessly suppressed them, wrapped herself in calm, and knelt to find the knot in the rope that bound Lady Aubrey’s wrists.

  Wiping his dirk clean with scooped-up duff, Ian watched Dougal, hoping the man knew that he would need help to control two women and would not try to force them to flee with him. He wanted Dougal to fight.

  Never having matched swords with him, Ian knew not what to expect. He guessed that, lacking character, Dougal would be a sly rather than skillful warrior.

  That he had abducted Lina and Lizzie had shocked and infuriated Ian. That Dougal would set a trap for Lady Aubrey fit the view that Ian had long held of him. And what had just happened enhanced that low opinion of the man. Only a coward hid behind women while minions fought his battles.

  If anything surprised Ian, it was seeing Dougal draw both his sword and his dirk and stalk toward him with confidence evident in every move and gesture.

  Often, when approaching a battle, Ian had worried about disappointing his father or failing his King. But he had always easily shed such concerns when the fight was at hand. Now the thought of possible failure swept through him.

  He would not, could not fail Lina.

  Seeing her kneeling, uninjured, to untie Lady Aubrey, he hoped the two would have the good sense to slip away while he dealt with Dougal.