In the recess of his mind, he heard the sound of horses. Tearing his mouth from hers, he drew his sword as he looked for the danger. Two riders came at them speedily. His mind instantly jarred from lust and focused on the danger.
Douglas stood quickly, and he pulled her to her feet, shoving her behind him in a protective gesture. He held his sword in attack position, ready to strike out. Prepared to protect her, he stood his ground against the intruders. Two against one, it hardly seemed fair. Even if there had been ten men, he’d still win the battle. No one would get near enough to harm her.
Isabel leaned on his shoulder and watched the riders with interest. She released him, and stepped backward. He didn’t see her take a dagger from inside her satchel that lay opened at her feet. Little did he know, she was prepared to protect him at all cost.
Douglas swung his sword in an arc, trying to unseat the first rider from his horse, but missed when the man passed by. The second man rode closely behind the first, but he didn’t fare so favorable when Douglas’ sword struck his side. His shout of pain riddled with disbelief. The man fell sideways, landing in a heap on the ground. His horse ran off into the forest. The man wore the Barclay clan’s plaid, and he had to be an outcast. Douglas watched him shake on the ground, his blood pooling beside him, then he stilled.
In the corner of his eye, Douglas could see Isabel had slunk to the ground. She seemed terrified, and repeated, “Oh, drat,” again and again.
Douglas turned to face the other foe, and saw the man lying dead on the ground. How had that happened? He missed the first man, hadn’t he? Confusion set in, until he looked at Isabel again.
“Oh, drat, Laird Kerr,” she whimpered.
“Are you harmed?” He tried to sound calm so he wouldn’t panic her, but his voice hardened.
“Nay, verily, I’m not hurt.” Isabel placed her hands over her face and wept. “That man messed up my hair.”
Douglas rolled his eyes heavenward, thinking her comment hilarious, given that they were just set on by marauders. He strode to the man who fell behind him, and pulled a dagger from the man’s neck. The clean kill dispatched the man. Who threw the dagger? Where did it come from? Gil or Brendan? The dagger didn’t look familiar, but it could have been one of his comrades. He searched the tree line, but couldn’t see them. Mayhap they went to secure the location.
Douglas needed to remove the bodies from camp so Isabel wouldn’t see the blood or gore. She was frightened and probably had never seen the sight of blood before. He eyed the strange dagger, and didn’t recognize it as Brendan or Gil’s, but he put it inside his boot. He pulled one man by his feet then returned for the other.
The rebels often camped in these woods. Barclays, probably outcasts turned to marauding, since they were so far from their land. They deserved to die for riding on his land. Douglas didn’t give them another thought. He returned to camp, went to Isabel, and tried to comfort her.
“They’re gone now, you’re safe.” He put his arm around her shoulder, patting her.
“It was ghastly, Laird Kerr. That horrid man pushed me to the ground. What did they want?”
“Probably a bean-sith, sitting beside a camp,” Douglas mumbled. She certainly presented the vision of a faerie, as alluring as the forest creatures Highlanders so loved.
*****
Brendan watched the folly from the forest with Gil beside him. They were about to give aid when they saw her throw the dagger. Frozen to the spot, they watched the foray in stunned silence.
“What do you make of that?” Gil asked, whistling.
“She’s skilled at weaponry. Did you see the way she threw the dagger? Aye, she saved him,” Brendan replied honestly.
“I heard the blade slice the air even from here. The man didn’t stand a chance, none at all. Faigh muin, never saw anything like it. Why’d she cry then?”
“Who knows what’s in a woman’s mind? She was irked about her hair being mussed, and yet two men lie dead. She didn’t cry over that. She’s no coward.”
“I do believe I like her even more.” Gil laughed.
Brendan pulled Gil’s arm, and they walked back to camp. They tried to act unaffected, as they sat next to Douglas. Gil began skinning the two hares he’d caught.
“There are two dead men in the wood over there.” Douglas pointed to the spot where he’d taken them.
“What happened?”
“They came at us, but I felled one. Who struck the other?”
Douglas must have thought Gil or he had given aid. Brendan shook his head, baffled. “You didn’t see what …” He started to speak, but then noticed Isabel’s look, she turned white.
She shook her head at him, pleading with her eyes, not to give her away. Somehow, she knew they were aware of her caper. Brendan wanted to laugh. Why didn’t she want Douglas to know she’d killed the foe? Hell, he’d been impressed by her aim, and knew that Douglas would be too.
“It wasn’t me, Douglas. Did you give aid, Gil?” Brendan almost laughed at Gil’s brightening face.
Gil looked at Isabel, then back at him. Isabel looked like she would weep, but Gil took pity on her, and nodded.
“You’ve my thanks, Gil. Nice pluck. I didn’t know you could throw a dagger like that. Must have been a fair distance. I’m impressed.” Douglas handed the dagger to Gil.
“I’ve uh … been practicing, Laird.” Gil tucked the large dagger inside his boot.
“I didn’t think you could use a dagger like that. I must reward you,” Douglas said.
“Nay,” Gil yelled, and then assuaged, “Nay, you mustn’t. I’m here to protect ye, Laird, and that’s just what I did. No reward is necessary.”
Douglas appeared to be confused by his evasiveness. It wasn’t like either of them to deny a good kill, especially when a bastard deserved it. Brendan usually took credit, even if he hadn’t participated and should have this time. He was amazed that Douglas believed Gil had thrown the dagger, considering Gil was more of a scholar and didn’t use weapons much.
Smoke from the fire filled the air and crackled as they waited for the hares to cook. Isabel moved closer to the fire to warm herself. After eating the meat and cakes she was given, she lay down and went to sleep. Brendan continued to ponder the situation, watching his cousin stew in the unhappiness of a man thoroughly confused.
*****
Douglas couldn’t believe Gil had thrown the dagger. His soldier had never shown such talent before, and he’d thought Gil more knowledgeable on other matters. He and Gil had become friends when his father sent Gil for training. Douglas knew how Gil felt about being sent away, he’d experienced the same rejection at almost the same age. He supposed his training tactics were paying off and Gil was finally becoming the soldier his father had hoped he’d become.
Everyone settled down after the excitement. Douglas watched Isabel from where he sat and thought about their kiss. If those men hadn’t intruded, who knows what might have happened? Another minute or two, he would have lost the battle. He felt guilty. She was Candace’s friend and he had no right to interfere. He would be a gentleman even if it killed him.
“Have you been listening?” Brendan nudged him. “I said it’s cold, give her my plaid. It’ll keep her warm.” He handed him a MacKinnon plaid, motioning for him to cover her.
Douglas shook his head, throwing the plaid back.
Brendan laughed. “A telltale sign, Douglas.” He walked to Isabel, and covered her, himself.
Douglas seared his back with his eyes. When Brendan returned to his side, he baited him further. “You’ve another difficult day on the morrow, Laird Kerr. Best get some rest.”
“Faigh muin, shut up, Brendan. Just keep your mouth quiet,” Douglas said between his teeth.
Brendan threw up his hands in surrender. He knew he’d pushed Douglas to the brink of his temper.
“What did I say? You’re awfully testy lately.”
Douglas picked up a small rock and threw it at him. It struck his chest, making Br
endan grunt at the blow. He shrugged his shoulders and lay down to rest. Damn, Brendan MacKinnon. Douglas couldn’t hurt the barbarian. Though, he’d been fortunate to have him as a friend and not an enemy.
The peacefulness of the darkened forest eased Douglas’ tension. He concentrated on the sounds of the forest, but kept thinking about Isabel. Was she attracted to his cousin? She held Brendan rather boldly. He didn’t like the fact that Brendan was interested in her either. He admitted after a few minutes of reflection that he wanted her to like him, only him. Hell.
During the night, Douglas continued to watch her sleep. Isabel awoke, and must have been cold, because she looked around for more coverings. She shimmed toward him, moving next to him, and stole a foot of his plaid. Her body felt cold next to his, but he wouldn’t complain. His body’s warmth must have soothed her, because she closed her eyes and was lulled back to sleep. He watched her settle next to him, and his blood simmered. He could feel his erection intensifying. Honest to God, he couldn’t take much more. He tried to think of anything but the woman lying next to him. Closing his eyes, he thought about the frigid loch near his home.
He awoke the next morning with his face cradled beside her neck, his mouth wide open against her soft skin. His leg and arm covered her body. He opened his eyes to find her bonny face close to his. Her dark lashes were closed, and she breathed faintly. He snuggled contentedly against her curvy body, and he wondered how he’d come into such a position. Desire immediately swamped him. He gently removed his arm and leg.
Douglas stormed off to the stream hoping to ebb his body’s cravings before anyone awoke. Aye, a cold dip in the stream should do it, though he never partook in bathing in such frigid water. It was the only way to rid the heat inside his body. He closed his eyes, and let the cold water drown his desire.
Chapter Fifteen
Isabel awoke and felt oddly warm, considering the night had been so cold. She found an extra plaid over her and assumed one of the men must have covered her. She limped toward the horses, hoping that Douglas would notice, but he only grouched at them to get a move on. His attention seemed focused on his horse, and he didn’t notice Gil waving to her. She waited to see whom she’d ride with, and fortunately, she’d been given a choice. She decided to ride with Gil. He didn’t seem to mind, and patted his lap when she approached.
Douglas all but sneered at them, while telling them to hurry and mount their horses. Gil seemed to find Douglas’ testy mood comical, and his grin showed that he resisted the urge to laugh at his laird.
They rode on Kerr land, and the men relaxed their watch. Isabel found their mood much lighter, and she chatted with Gil.
“Are you married, Gil?”
“Me? Nay, Milady. Are ye?”
Neither she, nor Gil, noticed Douglas slowing his horse. He turned and awaited her response.
“Nay, I’m not married and I’m not looking for a husband. Not right now.”
“What about your father? Will he settle a contract for ye?”
She laughed. “‘Tis highly doubtful. Are there many available men in the Highlands?”
“As many available as anywhere, but you’re a bonny lass, and could have any man ye want.” His eyes moved deliberately to Douglas.
“You’re a gentleman for saying so.” She snorted. “What about him?” She pointed forward. “Is Brendan married?”
Douglas frowned, but she didn’t believe it was directed at her conversation with Gil, and thought he focused his attention on the forest.
“Brendan’s not married. No lassie would consider it. He be too stern for the lassies, not marriageable material from all accounts.”
“I don’t find him stern at all. He’s a warrior. Aren’t all warriors akin, stern?”
“I suppose,” Gil chortled his answer.
“What about Laird Kerr? Has he taken a wife?”
“Nay, not yet, mayhap soon.”
“Is there a woman he’s interested in?” She couldn’t help asking, and prayed the answer was no, but her hopes were dashed when he replied.
“Aye, there is.”
Both Douglas and Brendan looked at Gil, but she was facing the other way and hadn’t seen them.
“Who is she?” Isabel became dejected.
Gil grinned while pondering his answer. “The most bonny lass a man could want.”
Douglas grew disgusted with the absurd talk, and nudged his horse ahead of them.
“Oh,” Isabel said forlornly. “She is a very lucky lady.”
“Aye, she is. Here, Milady, take it,” Gil whispered.
Isabel didn’t know if she should take the dagger.
“Your secret is safe, Milady.”
He shoved the handle into her hand, and she tucked it inside her cloak. When she looked at him again, he smiled. She grew still and left Gil alone.
Disheartened at hearing Douglas was involved with someone, she realized how hopeless it was. She wouldn’t gain his acceptance after all. Though she’d angered him at their first meeting, she had hoped he’d forgotten about it. He hadn’t mentioned it the entire trek. She also hoped that by using her skills in deluding him to thinking she’d become a gentle maiden, she would win him over to accepting her.
Now she wasn’t so sure it would work. He had a lady already, probably a sweet-tempered lady unlike her. Although, he had kissed her and showed interest. Why had he done that? Should she be angered that he had? At least he was attracted to her, she mused. Still, she had to keep up the farce. When could she let her hair down? She detested it being bound, and couldn’t wait until she didn’t have to worry over it. She usually didn’t pay attention to such matters as hair and dress. There were many things that bothered her about the pretense. Mostly, watching her tongue. She’d almost slipped a few times during the journey. Almost.
Isabel usually spoke her mind, since no one ever told her not to. She became vivacious because she hadn’t a nursemaid, or any other lady to attend to her, who would have curbed her manly practices or outspokenness. She felt saddened at never knowing her mother or her name. Her father was cruel-hearted not to tell her. Nate told her that he didn’t know their mother’s name either. She couldn’t very well ask Nigel. He would laugh in her face.
Her future seemed bleak without the thought of Douglas being part of it, but she would be satisfied in knowing that she didn’t have to contend with her family. When she reached the Kerr keep, she’d ask Candace how she could remain there. At least until Nate came for her, which could very well take years. Her father wasn’t likely to die soon and with Nigel at the helm of their fortune, he’d destroy their home and hearth. It was up to her to make a life for herself and now it seemed her dreams were dashed. She sighed miserably.
The procession stopped, and Isabel looked up. She hadn’t paid attention, and felt Gil move off his horse. “Why are we stopping?”
Gil lifted her from the horse. “You look tired. Douglas asked if you needed to stop, but you didn’t answer. He’s concerned that we’re riding too hard.”
Isabel walked around the camp while the men tended the horses. She hadn’t heard a word Douglas said to her. Had she been so thoroughly trapped in her reflections? She looked up to see him leaving the camp.
“I know what I’ll do.” With a determined step, she left the camp. She walked a good distance, through the mangled trees of the forest. The walk exerted her and she slowed then stopped beside a contorted oak. Noises in forest reclaimed her focus. She hadn’t thought there were wild animals about, and hadn’t considered it when she’d devised her plan. She worried then, and took out the dagger from inside her cloak as a precaution.
She’d been gone for some time; surely they wondered where she went. Isabel hoped Douglas would search for her, and it would make her appear ladylike, if she were in distress. For the love of God, what had she been thinking? She pulled away from the tree, and decided to return.
When she reached camp, they were gone. There was no sign that they had been there.
&nbs
p; “Douglas, Brendan, Gil.” Silence. A fluttering of bird’s wings, and a cry from a hawk, startled her. She turned and searched the forest. Don’t panic, she reasoned. They had to be looking for her, and would return to this spot. She walked to a birch tree, and settled herself at the base of the trunk. After several minutes, she felt tired, but resisted closing her eyes. A rustling under a bush caught her ear. She listened carefully and rose. If there was a wild animal there, she’d be prepared. Another sound, horse’s hooves stomped the ground. They would arrive momentarily, she kept telling herself.
A huge beast charged from under a bush, coming full speed at her. Backing against the tree, she gripped the dagger tightly. No, no, she couldn’t do that. They would know she’d killed it, and used a dagger. Be reasonable, she told herself, if you don’t kill it—it will kill you. The beast’s tusks looked sharp, and its dark angry eyes set on her. Oh, drat, she would have to kill it.
She scrunched her eyes closed and waited. Her heart thumped madly in her ears. The sound of her heartbeat and the stomping of the charging animal seemed in unison. The beast closed in, and she could smell its foul odor. Surely she’d be dead within minutes if she didn’t strike it with the dagger. She gripped it, getting ready to take aim, when the beast suddenly fell at her feet. Gasping, she looked down at it. A dagger stuck from its neck. The beast screeched, shaking a few times, until it stilled. She couldn’t take her eyes from its ugly form.
Isabel did the only thing she could think of. Sneakily, she tucked the dagger inside her cloak, and fell to the forest floor.
“Did Milady faint?” she heard Gil ask.
Through the slit of her eyes, she saw Douglas dismount near her. She closed her eyes, and felt him lift her. His warmth soothed her.
“Brendan, tie up the boar, we’ll take it home,” Douglas said. She felt him position her on his horse, and he jumped up then repositioned her. “I’m taking her to the spring. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He tugged on the reins, galloping away.
Claimed By A Charmer (The Pith Trilogy) Page 10