by Sondra Grey
Ewan swore and tumbled back, clutching his face, which now bore three deep gouges. That’s for Adam, Annis thought, fiercely. But she only had a moment to celebrate, for Ewan had leapt forward, fist flying faster than she could track it. It exploded against her cheek, causing her world to rock for a moment, her head to snap backwards.
“Enough!” came Brandon’s shout. She could hear the sound of scuffling and then she was hauled to her feet, her arms held behind her back by Ervyn.
“For Christ’s sake, Ewan, you’re about to kill her,” said Brandon, hotly. “You don’t need to frighten her to death.”
Ewan was panting, still clutching his cheek and swearing, calling her all sorts of foul names.
“Let’s get this over with,” said Ervyn, his voice rumbling through her chest. Annis closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face. She couldn’t help herself, as Ervyn dragged her to the door she tried to struggle, but she was no match for the giant, who hauled her like a ragdoll down the stairs.
Annis could barely look at her surroundings, her mind whirled, trying to find a way out, trying to find some way to survive. But she might as well have been a gnat for all Ervyn registered her struggles.
When he hauled her outside, she let out a blood-curdling scream.
“Go ahead and scream,” said Ewan once she’d run out of air. “There’s no one on this island to hear you.” He turned back to look at Brandon, standing in the door.
“Are you coming?”
Brandon shook his head, eyes holding hers as if to will her courage. “I’ll not be a party to this.”
Annis screamed again, sobbing as they dragged her across the earth, towards the far side of the island, the side she’d seen out of her window.
“Adam!” She screamed for the husband she’d never see again and dug her heels into the ground, causing Ervyn to stop and readjust his grip on hers. The others kept walking.
“Come on,” Ervyn grunted, kicking at her legs so that she fell to her knees. “Would you get up!” He bellowed, frustrated. He bent down to scoop her from her feet, which is the exact moment a sword point shot through his neck.
Chapter 7
E rvyn’s mouth gaped open in shock, his hands releasing her to grab at this throat. The sword tip was jerked out, blood poured over Annis arms as she gaped up at the giant. His eyes were rolling, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as his hands tried to cover the wound. He began to choke, throat filling up with blood. He hit the ground with his knees.
“You Bastard!” The cry split the air, and Annis could barely look up from her hands, but there were hands on her shoulders, pulling her back from the now thrashing Ervyn. A face pushed into her vision, blue eyes wide and questioning. “Sparrow. My god, are you okay? Are you hurt?” Adam’s hand came up to touch Annis cheek, which throbbed at the contact.
“Adam,” someone warned above his head. He released her and Annis fell back to the ground, watching with awe as her husband strode forward to meet Ewan Cameron, sword drawn, features curled in rage.
Ewan didn’t say anything. There were no taunts, or jeers. He struck.
Annis would never have guessed that Ewan would be a good swordsman. His tactics had been so underhanded… but he wielded his weapon fiercely and with cunning. But Adam was one of James’ knights, and that rage that rode him was palpable. He shouted as their blades met, his strikes vicious, driving Ewan back and back. Ewan’s man, Ned, ran for the dock, and Annis saw another Maclean give chase. But she couldn’t watch that. Her eyes went back to her husband, attacking Ewan with merciless blows, driving Lochiel’s son back towards the edge of the cliff.
Ewan seemed not to realize what Adam was doing. He was intent on stopping Adam’s punishing blows. At one point, Ewan swung wide and then stepped in, bringing his sword up. Annis heard Adam bark in pain and saw Ewan’s smile of triumph.
It lasted only a moment.
Adam’s sword came up and down with such power, that Ewan was driven to his knees. No one saw the next move coming. Adam didn’t strike out with his sword, but with his foot. It connected with Ewan’s Cameron’s face in a sickening crunch.
Ewan held his sword for a moment, stunned. Adam repeated the blow in quick succession, kicking him again, hard. Ewan fell back, scrambling as he began to slide, the rocks beneath him giving way. Even Annis hadn’t realized how close to the cliff’s edge they were.
She saw her husband throw down his sword and, with his bare hand, give Ewan a mighty shove over the edge.
She could hear Ewan’s cry, here the dull thwack as his body hit the stones below. She closed her eyes against the image that blossomed there, and when she opened them, her husband stood on the precipice, looking down, expression grim.
It was a full minute before he turned. Annis realized that one of the other Macleans was talking to her, was trying to lift her from the ground, but Annis only had eyes for Adam. Adam’s eyes lit on hers, and his mouth seemed to tremble for a moment, but whether it was to resolve itself into a smile or a frown, she wouldn’t know. Because he rushed forward and lifted her up into a hug so hard that her ribs screamed, but she didn’t dare let him go.
He had her by the hair, his lips on her eyes, her cheek, her mouth. Then he was kissing her for all he was worth and she was kissing him back. She was sobbing against his mouth. How many times had she dreamt of him coming to rescue her? But this was no dream. This was real.
“How did you find me,” she gasped against his mouth when they both pulled back to breathe. But Adam seemed beyond words. His eyes were wild as they took her in and he closed them a moment, a silent prayer forming over and over on his lips.
“Adam. We don’t know how many others are here,” said Simon urgently.
Adam whirled and, in one motion, scooped Annis into his arms and began to stride after his men, who were already heading back towards the tower.
Annis clung to Adam’s neck, burying her face there. She only lifted it when she stopped walking.
“Brandon of Torcastle,” said Adam. Voice emotionless. Annis glanced over to where Brandon leaned nonchalantly in the door of his tower. Arms crossed.
“Good timing, Maclean,” said Brandon.
Adam snarled at him. “You watched, and you did nothing.”
“I’ve no weapon,” said Brandon, gesturing to his empty belt. “And besides, I saw your boat as it left the Isle of Eig. I thought you might appreciate killing Ewan yourself, after all the trouble he’s caused you.”
“Give me one good reason not to split you where you stand,” said Adam, voice flatter than anything Annis had ever heard. She shuddered in his arms.
“I would hope,” said Brandon, slowly, “That the Lady Inveralt would speak on my behalf and boast of her good treatment here. I kept Ewan from killing her before you arrived, is that enough? You can ask your lady if you don’t believe me. I kept him talking for an hour until I could stop him no longer. And when he would have killed her upstairs, I had him take her Cliffside, where your boat was docking.”
He held out his hands in surrender, but there was something wild in his eyes.
“Annis,” said Adam, and she realized he was giving her the choice.
“Leave him,” said Annis, after a moment.
Brandon’s eyes tracked her as Adam continued to walk past him. Down the rocky shore and into their rented boat. Adam held her to his chest as they made the crossing, murmuring words of comfort into her hair.
“You kept looking,” she said into his neck, when the shock of the last hour had settled.
“Of course I did,” he said, his lashes feathering against her cheek. “Of course I did.”
EPILOGUE
N o one spoke of Ewan Camerons death and, as Adam promised, Lochiel Cameron didn’t turn up on Adam’s doorstep demanding justice. But the King was rallying his chiefs around him, and as a knight of the realm, Adam was forced to go to Edinburgh. He brought Annis with him.
Now a full four months pregnant, Annis was starting to show, but Adam
refused to leave her in her rooms.
Since rescuing her from Ruim, he never let her out of his sight. If he had to go to court, well fine, but Annis would go as well.
Adam had her fitted for gowns just for the occasion. She wore a deep blue gown that hugged the swell of her bosom and minimized the swell of her abdomen. The color brought out the strands of gold in her hair.
“You look like a vision,” Adam told her warmly. “In fact…” He bent down, crowding her against the door, and kissed her until she was burning from the inside out as they left their rooms
As he moved through the crowds of courtiers, Annis was aware of every woman who looked Adam’s way. But it seemed that Adam was oblivious to them all.
“Is it too warm in here for you?” he asked her, his hand on the small of her back, guiding her through the press.
“I’m fine.”
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“Truly, Adam I’m fine,” she said, taking his hand and squeezing it. They passed Lady Abercrombie, who tried to reach out and catch Adam’s sleeve. Adam gave her a cursory nod.
“That was rude,” Annis murmured, glancing over her shoulder to see the older woman frowning fiercely at her husband’s back. “You could at least go and say hello.”
“I am in no way interested in Lady Abercrombie’s company,” said Adam, keeping his voice low. “We are here to appease James. After that, we will go home, together.”
Together.
While Adam hadn’t said the words, Annis could feel his love in his every gesture. They’d only a month together at Inveralt before being called to court, but Adam had made that month count.
He’s been over the moon about her pregnancy. Upon hearing of it, seeing the evidence with his own eyes, he’d nearly broken down. Holding her tight to him, he’d told her the reason why he’d withdrawn, why he’d ridden to Spein to confront Ewan (only to find Ewan conspicuously absent).
Annis told him her worries, why she had seemed so distant. She’d wanted him to tell her that he loved her, but he hadn’t. He’d just pulled her close and held her tightly.
As they wound past the courtiers in James’ court, coming closer and closer to where James sat, his queen, Margaret at his side. Annis knew the moment James saw them. She could feel the tingle of his eyes on her, scanning her as if to see for himself whether the pregnancy rumors are true.
“Sir Maclean,” said James, standing and untangling his hand from Margarets. “Just the man I wanted to see.”
Adam swept a low bow and Annis did her best to curtsy as low as she was able.
“May I offer you congratulations?” asked James, inclining his head and glancing at Annis stomach where it swelled lightly beneath her gown.
“I accept it, your majesty, thank you.”
“Come talk with me in private, Sir Maclean,” said the King without any further preamble.
Adam inclined his head and the King swept from the room. Annis could feel the eyes following them as they left.
“So,” said the King, seating himself at a round table that dominated most of the small antechamber. “Let us speak frankly.”
Adam nodded, holding out the chair for Annis before taking on himself.
“My first concern,” said James, “Is that the child Annis Black carries is, in fact, your child.”
Annis gasped, affronted but Adam put a hand on her thigh, warning her to stay quiet. “The lady claims it is mine,” said Adam. “And I believe her. Though we shall see whether or not the child is born in April or in May.”
“Quite,” said James, looking irritated. “It would be a nuisance to have to listen to Lochiel Cameron claim that his grandson is to inherit Inveralt.”
“You will not have to, majesty.”
James stared at Adam a long moment before nodding.
“The second order of business,” said the King. “You are not to retaliate against Lochiel Cameron.”
Annis felt Adam stiffen beside her.
“This time next year, we will most likely be at war with England. I am sick of battling the Camerons at every turn. I intend to woo them to my side and it will not do to have my knight wreaking havoc through the highlands.”
Annis saw Adam’s throat work and he sounded almost hoarse as he said, “But you do not plan on offering them Inveralt.”
James looked like he sucked on a lemon. He studied Adam with evident displeasure. “I intimated as much when I said I do not wish to have Lochiel Cameron claiming ownership. No, I do not intend to offer them Inveralt. I still hope Inveralt’s fields prove as fertile as her mistress,” he said, giving a small not to Annis, who was not pleased at being likened to a field.
“Do I have your word then, Sir Maclean? You’ve slaughtered Lochiel’s son and your revenge is complete. You and your wife can live in peace. I will get Lochiel’s promise of men for my army, and I will wrest from him a promise to leave Inveralt to the Macleans. I have other morsels of land I can use to tempt him to my cause.”
Adam bowed his head, but his clenched jaw signaled to Annis that he was not happy.
“Good,” said James, taking Adam’s silent nod for ascent. “Then we are settled and understand one another.”
“We do, Majesty.”
Adam rose once James had left the room and he lifted Annis to her feet.
“Adam, a war?” said Annis, her voice small.
Adam looked grim and he nodded. “It’s been a long time coming, and as much as I want to slide my sword through Lochiel Cameron’s throat, the king is right. The Camerons command a fearsome army and the king has use of their services. It will have to be revenge enough that I took his son’s life.”
Annis slid her hand into his, and Adam brought it to his lips automatically. But his eyes were glassy, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.
“Come,” he said, suddenly. “This talk of war makes me want nothing more than to curl in bed about my wife while I still can.”
He tugged her back through the crowded ball room.
Alone in their room, Adam undressed his wife slowly until all she wore was the strand of pearls he’d given her as a pregnancy gift. Gently, he scooped her into his arms and kissed her until neither of them could bare to be separate any longer.
Taking her to bed, he opened her with his mouth and with his fingers, until she glistened with moisture, and writhed impatiently in his grasp. Only then did he allow himself to sink deep, to move in a rhythm old as time. As their releases came upon them, they shook in silence, neither of them wanting to break the tentative spell they’d woven.
Adam stayed inside her, running a hand over her hair, kissing her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks.
When he finally pulled out he pulled her close to him, his hand cupping the soft swell of her abdomen, where their child continued to grow.
It took Annis a few moments to realize that, always mercurial, Adam was no longer with her. His mind was far away. She whirled in his arms and reached up, smoothing his golden hair off his brow. “What are you thinking about?” she asked him.
He smiled at her. “That you are everything I never knew I wanted.”
He brushed a kiss across her forhead and tucked her into him even more tightly. “I’m still getting used to it. It’s a terrible feeling, love.”
Annis nodded sleepily against his chest. “I know what you mean,” she yawned. “It makes me feel desperate and anxious.”
“And yet,” said Adam, almost to himself. “I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
THE END
Rogue Highlander
A Captured Heart
PROLOGUE
T wo young men stood on a hillside, looking down at the village below. From their vantage point, the village was nothing but a series of brown rooves amidst the deep green of late summer trees. The scene was empty save for a lone figure who was leaning against the grey stone walls of the kirk.
Gavin Stewart squinted to try and make the person out, his concentration broken when a heavy hand clap
ped onto his shoulder.
“I feel sorry for you, I do,” said the hand’s owner. “You can’t go anywhere near her, man. Not now. Lord knows you’ll catch the sickness, yourself.”
Gavin stared over his shoulder at his friend, William Graham. William’s eyes were on the kirkyard as well. Then his gaze met Gavin’s, sympathetic.
“There are many people in the village that haven’t caught the sickness,” said Gavin, but he felt heavy with worry. He squinted down at the fair-haired figure now pacing about the front of the kirk. “That’s her, isn’t it?”
“Your betrothed? I can’t see from here,” William lied. He had eyes like a hawk. Indeed, it was Isla. Beautiful, Isla MacLeay, whom William had lusted over for years. She was a cold, proud harpy, who’d rejected William’s proposal of marriage and who’d slapped him when he’d pressed his suite and tried to kiss her. Isla, that harlot, who’d accepted Gavin’s proposal not two months later.
“It might be her,” William continued, “But I’m not getting closer to find out. That woman has always given me the chills.”
Gavin glanced at William, both in censure and in curiosity.
“Come now, Gavin,” said William, his voice rising with false incredulity. “You must know that Isla’s a witch!”
Gavin’s lips thinned. “Enough of that. I’ll not have you speaking ill of the woman I’m to marry.”
William was purposefully silent. His mind went back to the moment when she’d shamed him: Isla’s skin, so creamy and white at her throat, had contrasted brilliantly against William’s fingers where they stroked the long column of her neck. And her eyes, so vivid and blue, practically sparking with anger as he’d grabbed her close and kissed her. He could still feel the vicious sting of her slap.
“I’m your friend,” William said to Gavin, his voice intentionally slow, hesitant. “I speak only out of concern for your safety.”
Gavin snorted. “You think Isla would ever harm me?”