His Conquest

by Diana Cosby

  With a frustrated sigh, Linet stared at the infuriating man, followed in his wake. The Scot was as unbending as a sword.

  “If your wounds become infected, so be it.” Linet walked past him, but kept her steps slow. As much as she wished to hurry and leave him behind, the stubborn-headed fool would match her pace and add to his injuries.

  In so many ways, his arrogance, determination, and focus on his goals reminded her of her brother, Fulke. But that was where the similarities ended.

  Unlike her brother, Seathan was guided by his morals, his concern for his people, and his belief in doing what was right. Though he refused to explain why he accompanied her into the woods, she believed his reason arose from worry for her safety. That he was concerned about her touched her deeply.

  Since her parents’ deaths, no one had truly worried about her. Her maids smiled and inquired as to her health, but afraid of her brother, none sought to know her beyond the role of their mistress.

  Not that she’d pondered the fact or felt regret. Immersed in her studies, with the day-to-day running of Breac Castle, time to linger, to make small talk as most noblewomen did, seldom occurred. She preferred her busy life, or had until she’d met Seathan.

  Lord Grey was a unique man, a leader whose devotion to protecting his people amazed her. Now, however temporary, he’d included her within his safeguard. She should dismiss the sense of comfort his decision inspired, focus on the fact that their time together was but that of weeks. But deep inside, she knew when they reached the Highlands and parted, an emptiness she’d never anticipated would remain.

  Sweet Mary, how could a man she’d known for but hours have become so important to her? It made no sense, but then at this moment in her life, little did.

  At the mouth of the cave, Linet halted, steadied herself. She must make her decisions based on logic, not the feelings of the heart, a lesson Fulke had taught her too well.

  With her mind focused on her task, she peered through a slit in the sewn moss cover. The rumble of water from the nearby gorge filled the silence. Through the break in the trees, a hawk soared high above the treetops.

  As she scanned their surroundings, Seathan halted behind her. He did not have to speak, nor did she need to hear the firm tread of his steps to know of his presence. Her body recognized his nearness.

  “Do you see anyone?” Caution laced his voice.

  Shaken by the sense of completeness his nearness instilled, Linet shook her head. “No.” She pulled back the cover and left the cave.

  Seathan followed.

  The soft, leaf-strewn ground absorbed their steps, the canopy of leaves overhead casting them in shadows.

  As they crossed the small field, Linet kept watch for any sign of movement, relieved once they’d again entered the protective shield of the forest.

  Seathan glanced over. “You are traveling at a slow pace.”

  “As if you could move faster?”

  “I am far from a green lad ignorant of the demands of war.”

  Dead leaves stirred by a gust of wind spun past her face. She brushed one away that’d caught within her hair. “A fact you seem intent on reminding me of.”

  “Who hurt you so that you would challenge a warrior without thought of reprisal?”

  His quiet question caught her off guard. Flutters of warmth tumbling through her stilled. She stayed her response. Of course he would want to know, he wanted to learn everything he could about her. More specifically, he sought to discover why she would help free Fulke’s valuable prisoner from Breac Castle.

  Shaken by the reminder, Linet stepped forward.

  Tripped.

  He caught her, his piercing green eyes riveted on her. “You are upset.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, too aware of their kiss. He gazed back with the intensity of a warrior, but a man as well. Desire swept through her, leaving her aching with need. If only his inquiry was made purely out of concern. On a long sigh, she pulled free and started walking.

  “Linet?”

  Did he have to use her name? Did he have to speak with the rich, velvet burr that thrummed through her body in soft waves, sparking memories of his touch?

  “Tell me,” he urged.

  She paused and glanced back at him. A mistake. She silently cursed that she noticed the curve of his sensual mouth, the desire in his eyes, and prayed he didn’t see her own need.

  “We must find the plantain and seek shelter before the knights return,” she said, her voice unsteady.

  For a long moment he held her gaze as if weighing an important decision. He nodded. “Look to your left.”

  She turned. A short distance away, near where the land fell away to the rush of water below, tall leaves clustered together and jutted from the damp earth. Heat touched her face. With her mind lost in thoughts of Seathan, she’d missed the plantain.

  Chagrined, she walked over and knelt before the herb. “It is a blessing we found it so close to the cave.”

  Seathan grunted. “It is common enough.”

  And so it was.

  From the corner of her eye, she observed the Scot. He stood, his gaze alert, scouring the perimeter. Ever the warrior. Only the slight shift of his posture, the paleness of his face, betrayed his weakened condition. Amazing after all he’d endured.

  Linet tore free a stalk of the sturdy plant. What had Lord Grey experienced during his life that enabled him to endure so much pain and still persevere?

  She picked another hardy leaf. No, mayhap she needed not to know. Already she cared more for Seathan than was wise.

  Shaken by the emotions this man made her feel, she immersed herself in her task. The rich, earthy fragrance of the forest scented the cool air as she tore each plantain leaf from its base. The menial job served as a balm to the complexity of her thoughts. After she’d collected enough leaves to make a poultice, she stood.

  “Had it been farther along in the season,” Seathan said, “we might have found yarrow as well.”

  Surprised, she glanced up to discover him watching her intently. Had he been observing her the entire time? She willed herself not to blush. “You know much about herbs?”

  “After a battle, a healer is rarely on hand to care for the wounded,” he replied. “A warrior who neglects learning of the healing herbs could forfeit his life.”

  “Who taught you where to find herbs and how to properly use them?”

  Sadness shadowed his eyes. He hesitated. “My mother.”

  Her heart softened. “You cared for her very much.”

  “She was a good woman.” Pride resonated in his voice as well as love.

  “Where is she now?” she asked, curious about the woman who had raised this formidable man.

  “She died giving birth to my youngest brother.”

  “I am sorry.”

  He shrugged. “’Tis life’s way.”

  Though he acted indifferent, she’d seen the hurt at his loss. Many years might have passed and perhaps the memories had faded, but his love for his mother had not. A fact she empathized with as well.

  Somber, she cradled the plantain in her hands and slowly made her way back toward the cave; Seathan kept pace at her side.

  Winter brown grass lay limp around her. “You come from a large family?”

  “My past matters not.”

  Frustration slid through her. “I am not the enemy.”

  “So you claim.”

  Could he not allow a moment of peace between them? She shook her head as he made to speak. “It matters not. As you said, your family is not my concern.”

  “That does not seem to affect my inclination to answer your questions,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Soon I will be telling you about the woman who—”

  When his words broke off, Linet glanced over. If not for the flicker of emotion in his eyes, she would have missed the importance of his response. Her senses came on alert. Then she understood. He hadn’t known countless women at all.

  A woman, one w
oman, had hurt him.

  “Who was she?” The sincerity of her question echoed between them.

  Seathan rolled his shoulders as if to loosen the stiffness in them. He shielded his eyes and scanned the horizon. “A green lad’s delusion.”

  “And the reason you do not trust women?”

  Surprise shuttered his face. For a long moment he studied her, then shrugged. “Aye.”

  Her pulse raced that he’d admit such a painful truth.

  “And what of the reason for your lack of trust toward men?”

  “I have known many a fine man.”

  “A diversion, but not an answer.”

  Mouth dry, she turned toward him, stopped. “I trusted my father.”

  “And?”

  “Beyond him, it seems when it comes to the opposite sex, you and I share the same view.”

  Intrigue sparked in his eyes. “It is a safe view.” Seathan headed toward the cave.

  Linet kept pace at his side. A safe view. Interesting comment from a man who lived on the edge—except with his emotions. Those he safeguarded deep inside.

  And what of the woman who’d hurt him? Had he loved her? An ache pierced her chest. Yes, he would have. In the brief time she’d known Seathan, she’d learned he was a man who did nothing by halves. What would it be like to be loved with such intensity by a man who, when he gave his vow, backed it with his life?

  The woman who’d hurt him was a fool.

  As was she—an even greater one for wondering if Seathan felt anything more toward her than disdain.

  Still, memories of Seathan’s kiss, the powerful yearnings his touch inspired, poured through her like oil upon a flame. What would making love to him be like? Would he be a gentle lover? Fierce? Would his intensity sweep her into emotions untried? He seemed a man who was thorough, regardless of his task. How could that trait not carry into making love?

  Sunlight spilled through the leaves ahead, carving fractured shadows in the patches of snow and earth.

  A fleeting smile curved her mouth. How appropriate. The riddled path was so like her life, a battle of darkness and light. And like the sun in the sky moving to day’s end, so was her time to reach her mother’s clan falling away.

  “I have three brothers, two are still alive,” Seathan said.

  Confused, Linet glanced over. “What?”

  “You asked if I came from a large family.”

  The man would drive a saint to distraction. “That was several moments ago, and you replied that your past mattered not.” She frowned. “What made you decide to answer me now?”

  “I believed it wisest.”

  She frowned. “Wisest? That now is the time to share information about your brothers with me? Not when I asked you several moments ago?”

  At his silence, realization dawned. “Your sharing of your life is but a ploy,” she stated, anger seeping into her words. “You want to see how I will react. Or have me lower my guard so I will share personal information about my family in return, is that not your intent?” She should feel guilty at the question as she, too, used the same tactic. Nonetheless, his offer of false friendship hurt. “I am not a maiden easily won.”

  “Nay, I would never make that mistake.”

  “Then, what am I to you?” Linet couldn’t believe she’d asked, but she found his answer important. Somewhere along the way, Seathan had come to matter. He was no longer just a means of vengeance against her brother, but a man she wanted in her life.

  “An intriguing woman.”

  “Intriguing? ’Tis better than boring.” At her reply, a smile edged his mouth, easing the tension between them. “And what of your father?” she asked, her interest purely personal.

  He looked off into the distance. “He died in battle.”

  Sadly, they had the loss of their fathers in common. “I am sorry.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…Because I understand the pain of losing someone you love.”

  “Did someone’s death inspire your decision to free me?”

  She blew out a breath. “Why is it you must seek information at every turn? For once, can we not speak without suspicion, or doubts of the other’s motive, as people with naught more between them than concern for the other?”

  Green eyes watched her unmoved. “We are at war. Letting down one’s guard is an invitation to die.”

  “At war? The rebels’ acts are but protests against a battle already lost. This summer past, King Edward seized Scotland. Regardless of your wish, he is your sovereign, your homeland his to rule.”

  He scowled. “Sovereign? Nay, Longshanks is not my ruler, nor will he ever be Scotland’s.”

  “You argue fact,” she said, understanding his outrage. “Nobles throughout Scotland have pledged their fealty to King Edward.”

  “The Ragman Roll?” Distaste flowed from his tongue. “A worthless document signed by spineless men, or those threatened with their life. Do you believe those badgered into signing were sincere?”

  “A fact I had not truly considered. And what of King John?” she asked, moved by the passion of Seathan’s reply.

  Green eyes darkened with disgust. “King John? No Scot worth his sword acknowledges him as such. From the day he betrayed his homeland and resigned his kingdom to King Edward, he earned his title ‘Toom Tabard.’”

  Linet frowned. “Toom Tabard?”

  “Empty surcoat,” he spat. “King of nothing. A true warrior of Scotland would have fought to his death, not whimpered like a frightened dog at the first sign of challenge.”

  On that she agreed. If faced with the same situation, Seathan would have battled for what he believed in.

  She understood why King Edward wanted Lord Grey dead. The Scot’s spirit inspired the rebels, like that of William Wallace, the nobleman the earl served. Both were warriors who refused to yield or give up what they believed was right.

  Humbled, she drew in a slow breath. After King Edward’s resounding defeat of the Scots this summer past, she’d believed the English king would easily smother further rebellion, that the infrequent clashes with the English were little more than pockets of resistance.

  After meeting Seathan, she realized King Edward’s claim that he’d subdued the Scots was more wishful than fact. To focus his efforts on Flanders, the English king had too quickly dismissed the Scottish rebels’ intent to reclaim their kingdom.

  “And the reason you freed me?” Seathan asked into the silence.

  She looked away. “Never mind.”

  “Now who is it who evades the question?”

  Linet met his gaze, wanting him to see the sincerity in her eyes. “There is life beyond war.”

  “Mayhap, for those absorbed in nobility’s games, those safe within castles filled with knights for protection, stocked with food and weapons to withhold an attack for weeks.”

  “I am far from a witless woman ignorant of the strife of our times.”

  “On that I agree. You are far from witless.”

  She arched a brow. “But I am a woman ignorant of the strife of our times, correct?”

  He watched her. “Are you not?”

  “Would it matter either way?”

  “You again evade my question.”

  “This is not a game.”

  “Nay,” he said, his voice hard. “I have buried too many friends to ever think that.”

  She swallowed hard. “As have I,” she said, thinking of her father, friends, many who had mattered to her. “It is a waste of time to battle with words. In truth, King Edward’s desire for power has affected us all, but we do not have to allow it to guide us.”

  “Only the innocent, or those protected within castle walls, would believe so, my lady.”

  So he’d deduced her noble status. She wasn’t surprised. Neither would she confirm his claim or lead him to any path that might unveil her link to Fulke. “Mayhap I am but an optimist.”

  “From the short time that I have known you, your strength is in dealing with facts,
not clinging to hopeful beliefs.”

  “And my weakness?”

  “Your empathy.”

  For an unexplainable reason, his comment left her on guard. “You care for your people as well. There is no weakness in helping others.”

  He arched a doubtful brow. “Even your enemy? Even rescuing a condemned Scot from an English dungeon?”

  “No, you are not my enemy. You are…” Sweet Mary, what was she thinking? She’d almost admitted he was a man she was coming to care for, a man she wanted with each breath. She dropped her gaze. A fact she could never share.

  “I am what?” he prodded.

  She looked up to find him watching her, his gaze intent, as if he could strip away her shield and read the secrets of her soul.

  A distant yell shattered the silence.

  Seathan caught her hand. “Hurry. We must reach the cave before the knights arrive.”

  Face pale, Linet nodded.

  “This way,” a distant guard yelled.

  He started to run by her side, faltered.

  “Seathan?”

  Chapter 5

  Seathan gritted his teeth and hauled Linet toward the steep incline leading to the falls.

  Another guard yelled, this time closer.

  Bedamned! Plantain flew from her hands as he tugged her with him over the steep ledge of thick grass. The mist of the falls below swirled around them.

  Through the billows of fluid white, men riding out of the forest appeared.

  “God’s teeth,” he whispered. “If the knights ride closer, they will see us.” Before Linet could reply, he pulled her with him as he shoved back.

  Long, mist-fed grass slapped his face. The raging water of the falls below pulsed in a wild mangle as they half slid, half fell down the steep, slippery slope.

  An arm’s length from the edge, Seathan jammed his foot into the muck, shoved to the left. Pain exploded in his left arm as he slammed into a boulder. His vision blurred. His head spun as if after a night of too much drink.

  But they’d stopped.

  Several feet below, the rush of water roared. He dragged in deep breaths, fighting to remain conscious.