It was not until Gregor’s hand ceased stroking her back and slipped to the side that she realized he had gone back to sleep. As carefully as she could, Alana got off him, stood up, and quickly dressed. She smiled as she studied the way he was sprawled on his back sleeping soundly. It was strangely invigorating to think that she had exhausted such a big, strong man.
She opened the door, looked outside, and smiled. It was a beautiful day. Recalling a small burn they had crossed just before reaching their small shelter, she collected the things she would need to have a thorough wash. The water would undoubtedly be cold, as the burn was running downhill and probably came from somewhere in the high hills she could see in the distance, but she felt she could endure it long enough to get completely clean. If she hurried she might even be able to return before Gregor woke up, which would save her from a lecture about wandering around alone and unprotected, she mused as she hurried out of the cottage, quickly shutting the door before Charlemagne could follow.
The water proved far colder than she had anticipated, and Alana did not think she had ever bathed with greater speed. Even when she had dried herself off and put her clean clothes on, she continued to shiver faintly. She headed toward a sunnier spot where the water tumbled over the side of a shallow gorge. Sitting on the ground, she rubbed her hair dry and began to braid it. Although it was pleasant to sit in the sun and let its warmth flow through her, she knew she could not enjoy the pleasure for too long. Gregor would worry when he woke up to find her gone, and that worry would increase with each moment that passed with no sight of her return. She might not know how he felt about her in so many other ways, but she had no doubt that he felt very protective.
She was unable to stop her thoughts from drifting to what she had done this morning. It astonished her that she could ever have dared to be so bold. If Gregor had not been so obvious in his enjoyment of her attentions, she would worry that she had shocked him, perhaps even pushed him away with her boldness. She had no fear of that, however. She also knew that she would do it all again the first chance she got. It had been exciting beyond words to make love to him like that, to lead the dance for a change.
Alana shook aside the arousing thought of all the ways she could make love to Gregor and stood up. She was just moving to collect her things when six men stepped out of the shelter of the surrounding trees. Just over their shoulders she glimpsed another man standing with their horses and wondered how she had missed hearing their approach. They looked ragged and filthy and she felt her stomach knot with fear. They stood between her and the hut where Gregor waited for her. Worse, she had not even brought her dagger with her.
“Weel, ’tis a bonnie wee prize we have found ourselves, eh, laddies?” said a short, barrel-chested man whose face was so covered in hair she could see little more than his eyes.
“I am nay alone,” Alana warned. “’Twould be best if ye get back on your ponies and ride away. Fast.”
As a bluff it was a very weak one. The area all around where they stood was open and there was no sign of anyone but her. Alana was not surprised when the man facing her looked around and then glared at her.
“Do ye think me a fool?” he snapped. “Now, come here.”
“Och, nay, I dinnae think so.” Did the man truly think she was so witless that she would just walk to his side and surrender?
“Now, lass, ye really dinnae want to be making me angry. We willnae hurt ye,” he added in a faintly soft tone of voice.
The man’s attempt to smile reassuringly made Alana shiver with distaste. What little she could see of his teeth through his thick, snarled beard revealed that they were rotting in his mouth. Alana knew she had to decide what to do next and she had to do it quickly. This was not a man who would patiently trade words with her in an attempt to coax her into doing what he wanted. As subtly as she could, she glanced all around her and tried to determine the best route of escape. She prayed her ability to run and hide would not fail her again, for these men made the Gowans look like saints.
“I am afraid I dinnae believe ye, sir,” she said calmly even as her heart raced almost painfully with growing fear.
“Are ye calling me a liar?”
“Aye, I believe I am.”
“Ye had best cease this foolish game, woman, or it willnae go weel for ye when I catch ye. Believe that.”
“I think ye should say if ye catch me.”
A growl rumbled in the man’s chest and Alana understood that warning. She bolted and headed for the trees behind her. A cry rose up from the men as they started to chase her, a sound that reminded her far too much of the ones hunters made as they ran down their prey. One voice kept bellowing out threats that made her blood run cold.
It quickly became evident that these men were not all as stupid as they looked. While three of them ran after her, the other three ran back to their horses. A glance behind her showed Alana that she could certainly outrun the men who came after her on foot, but the men on the horses were rapidly closing in on her. Even she could not outrun a horse, but she just might be able to evade it if she could just reach the trees, she thought. If luck was with her, she might even be able to escape pursuit long enough to climb up into one of those trees and hide. She suspected these men would not linger in the area long if they lost sight of her. They were undoubtedly outlaws, broken men who were long overdue for a hanging.
Good fortune completely deserted her at the very edge of the trees she struggled to reach. Two men on horseback rode between her and the trees. They reined in so close to her that she could feel the breath of the horses on her face as she stumbled to a halt. Alana tried to dart around them, but they were quick to block her each time. Just as she realized why they were not attacking her, were merely holding her in place, she felt someone slam into her from behind. Even putting her arms out to try and break her fall, she hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath out of her.
She was still struggling to breathe when the man who had knocked her down turned her onto her back, slapped her hard across the face, and then sat on her. Straddling her, he glared at her. It was the one who had first spoken to her, and he looked more than eager to carry out all the threats he had bellowed after her when she had bolted for the trees. Alana did not think she had ever seen a man as filthy as this one or one who smelled so foul. She would not have thought that who the man was who violated her would matter, the abuse being horror enough to bear, but the fact that it was this foul creature who intended to rape her did indeed make it all the more horrifying. She doubted she would ever feel clean again—if she even survived.
Then she thought of Gregor, of all they had shared together, and wanted to scream. Only the thought that this man was the sort who would like to see her fear kept her silent. It was not easy, for hand in hand with the fear was a growing rage. He was going to ruin all the sweet memories she had made with Gregor, taint all that beauty with filth and violence. Before she could consider the wisdom of it, she curled up one hand into a tight fist and punched him in the nose as hard as she could. She was so angry that the blood and the sound of bones cracking did not even trouble her.
The man howled, clutched his nose, and rolled off her as he cursed and threatened her. Alana took quick advantage of her freedom, leapt to her feet, and ran. Another man tried to grab her, but as he yanked her toward him, she kicked him in the groin. She knew she was running blindly now but could not completely still the panic that gripped her so tightly. The fact that the men had not yet come at her all at once this time was all that was saving her, and she knew that, too. Yet each way she turned there was another man forcing her in yet another direction, and never in the one direction she truly wanted to go. Her body ached from being thrown to the ground and having a man fall on her and she was not sure how much longer she could continue to run and fight.
Alana felt the bitter taste of defeat sting the back of her throat when she suddenly realized she had been herded to the very edge of a shallow gorge. Each way she looked now
, a man stood in her way. Behind them were arranged the four horsemen. The man who had slapped her walked toward her, and she braced herself for a fight. She knew she would lose in the end, but she fully intended to make him suffer before he took what he wanted.
“Ye will pay for this, ye stupid bitch,” the man snapped, lightly touching his bleeding nose. “I was intending to be gentle with ye and all, but nay more. Nay, now I intend to make ye bleed.”
He lunged at her and Alana tried to avoid his attack, but when she tried to move to the side another man darted toward her. A snarl of warning escaped the first man, halting him, but the move had cost Alana her chance to get out of the way. The man she had punched grabbed her and tried to wrestle her to the ground. She heard one of the other men yell out, “’Ware the edge, Rob!” and knew both she and her attacker were in danger of plunging to the bottom of the gorge.
Rob grunted and tried to pull her back, away from the crumbling ground at the edge of the gorge. As Alana struggled in his arms, he bit her on the neck and she screamed as much from surprise and horror as from pain. Realizing suddenly that Rob was so busy trying to tear off her gown he had not protected his body well, Alana butted her head against his, trying to inflict enough pain that he loosened his grip on her. It seemed that all she had accomplished was to hurt her head and make him curse. Then she saw that her leg was situated in the perfect place for a hard strike to the groin. She was already bringing her knee up when the man realized his mistake and his vulnerability, but it was too late for him to save himself. Alana rammed her knee up between his legs. He screamed and shoved her away before dropping to his knees, clutching himself and retching.
Her sense of triumph lasted for only a heartbeat. Pushed back to the very edge of the gorge, she felt the ground slowly disappear from beneath her feet. She grabbed out at empty air even as she began to fall. Her frantic attempts to catch onto something to halt her fall only succeeded in causing her to slide and bounce her way down the rocky wall of the gorge. She hit the ground at the bottom hard on her back. The last thing she was aware of before darkness swallowed her was a sound very much like that of an enraged beast.
Gregor woke, stretched lazily, and looked around for Alana, frowning when he did not see her. Deciding that she must have slipped outside for a few moments of privacy, he dressed and did the same. It was not until he had seen to the horse, washed up, and tended to the fire that he began to be concerned. Alana should not be taking so long. When Charlemagne came to sit beside him, his worry for Alana increased. If Alana had only stepped out to relieve herself, she would have let Charlemagne out as well.
He sighed and told himself he was acting like an old woman. Alana had wandered all through the woods around the camps they had stayed at and never come to harm. She knew how to care for herself in the forest, and on her own. Had he not felt useless from time to time because she was so capable at caring for herself?
Then again, she had been caught by the Gowans, he mused as he chewed on a honey-sweetened oatcake. But so had he, he admitted reluctantly, so he could not count that against her. There was also the incident with the adder to consider. That could have happened to anyone, but it did reveal that there were dangers out there one could not always protect oneself against. Hidden dangers, both of nature and of man.
Scowling at the door, he carefully debated going out to look for her. There was probably nothing wrong. She might even have decided to catch a fish in the burn they had crossed, or a rabbit. Although he suspected the water in the burn was icy cold, she might have even gone to take a quick bath in it. There were a dozen good reasons for her not to be in the cottage to smile at him when he woke up. He could look very foolish if he went out looking for her.
“Curse it,” he muttered as he stood up and reached for his sword. “I cannae shake the feeling that something is wrong,” he said and cursed again when he realized he was talking to the cat. “That lass is driving me mad. I am talking to a cat and fretting o’er her like an old woman. ’Tisnae to be born and I shall tell her so. She cannae keep skipping off on her own as if the world is a peaceful haven where naught will e’er happen to a lass.”
When Charlemagne meowed, Gregor scowled at him and then strode out of the cottage. He had to shut the door quickly to halt the cat’s attempt to follow him. The animal was a strange one and, he thought, he was even stranger to be thinking about what a cat did and did not understand when his woman was missing.
His woman, he repeated in his mind and decided it sounded right and gave him a great sense of satisfaction. He had felt a bit of satisfaction over the possibility of marrying Mavis, but it had been over the prospect of gaining his own land and a heavy purse. With Alana, he simply did not care what she had. He would take her if all she brought to him was herself and that annoying cat. Today they would reach Scarglas if they encountered no trouble, and he would immediately begin to untangle himself from the Kerrs. The only thing that would take time was the need to be kind to Mavis when he did so, but he would not allow it to take too much time. He needed to openly claim Alana as his own, to convince her to stay at his side as his wife before she rejoined her family, and he could not do so until he dealt with the Kerrs.
The way she had made love to him this morning gave him confidence that she would be willing to be his wife, even if he did not have all that much to offer her besides himself. No woman could do that to a man with the tenderness and passion she had if she did not care for him. Her every kiss and caress had held the promise of a depth of feeling that he now craved.
Gregor suddenly realized that he wanted her to do more than care for him and desire him; he wanted her to love him. It was probably unfair of him to expect her to love him when he was not ready to put that name to what he felt, but he still wanted it. He would care for her, give her pleasure and give her bairns, and he would never betray her with another. That, he decided, should satisfy any woman.
A little voice in his head scoffed at him as he made his way through the trees to the burn. He was being a hypocrite but he did not care. Despite how content Sigimor and Ewan appeared in their marriages and how clearly they revealed their love for their wives even if they did not speak of it, Gregor mistrusted the emotion. He had also seen far too many suffer for it. It stirred the sort of fierce emotion he wanted nothing to do with.
At the fording place they had crossed yesterday, Gregor could not see Alana and he felt his concern grow stronger. Crouching down near the bank of the burn, he found signs that she had been there but had left. Since she had not returned to his side, he had to wonder where she had gone.
The sound of shouting drew his attention, and he looked through the thinning trees toward a clearing. At first he thought he was watching hunters trying to catch a bit of meat for the table, although he saw no sign of a buck or doe. Then he saw Alana and realized these men were hunting her. There was no doubt in his mind as to what they intended to do when they caught her, and the thought of any man touching his Alana with violence made the bloodlust rise swiftly in his heart.
He leapt to his feet when he saw a man tackle her to the ground, but struggled to restrain the keen urge to race into the crowd of men with his sword swinging. That would just get him killed, and then Alana would be at their mercy. It was hard to move cautiously as he watched the man turn her over and slap her face, but he knew the only way he could possibly win against such greater odds was with stealth.
A sigh of relief escaped him when he saw Alana break free of the man, but his relief was short-lived. As he moved closer it was easy to see that they were herding her, slowly surrounding her. Even as far away as he still was, Gregor could see the exact moment Alana realized what was happening, but it was too late for her to save herself. He had to bite his tongue to stop himself from calling out some words of encouragement, so strong was his need to ease the fear she had to be feeling.
Despite how desperately he wanted to cut to pieces the man who threatened her and then grabbed her, Gregor forced himself to tak
e advantage of the way all the men watched Alana struggle with the man. He felt pride in the way she did not cower, and almost smiled when she nearly gelded the man with her knee. Those good feelings faded fast, however, rapidly replaced by a cold, hard knot of fear when he saw the way she stumbled at the very edge of the gorge. He stood watching helplessly as she disappeared over the edge. The silence that followed was chilling.
Gregor heard a bellow of pain and rage and realized it came from him. He charged the men gathered near the edge of the gorge, too blind with fury and grief to weigh the odds against him. All he wanted was to kill the men who had taken Alana away from him. In a small part of his mind he noticed that the men on horseback did not wait to see that he was alone but fled, leaving him with only three men to face. Instead of being pleased by the evening of the odds against him, he only became angrier that he would not be able to rid the world of all these vermin.
The first man fell quickly to his sword, and now Gregor faced only two. For all the trouble his feckless father had caused over the years, one thing the man had taught his many sons was how to fight and fight well. Gregor had no fear that he would fail to kill these two men. He only had to decide whether to do it quickly or make them suffer for stealing the joy out of his life.
When a small, sane voice in his mind whispered that he could not be certain Alana was dead, he decided on killing the men quickly. The chances of her surviving such a fall were small, but he could not risk leaving her there too long just to satisfy the need to make these men suffer as much pain as he could possibly inflict. Alana might be in need of his help, and he could not hesitate just to satisfy his strong need for vengeance.
Highland Lover Page 17