“Ye cannae expect me to believe Sir Fergus is capable of cold-blooded murder.”
“Just because he doesnae show much spine when confronted with a mon? E’en he could o’erpower ye, lass. Once married to him, ye wouldnae have any place to run either. And e’en if ye willnae believe the rest, believe that Sir Fergus is a brutal swine when dealing with lasses. Davida said he likes the play to be rough, and I myself caught him trying to rape a wee lass who couldnae be much past her first flux. Her gown was all torn and she was covered in bruises. ’Twas just last night ere I came down to the great hall. I threw the bastard against the wall, which was why he was indisposed.”
“If he goes about raping the maids, why have I heard naught about it?”
“In Anabel’s household such a thing isnae seen as a crime,” he said quietly, sensing her growing agitation and wondering if he had said enough for now. It would do him no good if he pushed her to accept too much too quickly. “I need to rest ere we continue on,” he said as he sprawled on his back. “Dinnae think ye can wait until I am asleep and then slip free. These knots arenae easily untied, and I will ken it if ye try. As I will if ye try to help yourself to any of my weapons.”
Cecily looked around and was sorely disappointed not to find a very big rock close at hand. Hitting him on the head a few times would do a lot to ease her anger. She sighed and slowly settled herself as far from his side as her rope shackle would allow. There was more he wanted to say, she was sure of it, but she was very glad he had paused to rest. Each word he said had to be weighed and considered, and she had more than enough to deal with now. She was also glad that she had spent most of last night’s ride sleeping against Artan, for she suspected it would be a long time before she slept again.
It thoroughly dismayed her that she could all too easily see Sir Fergus as a man who would hit and rape women. He had barely even kissed her, so she really had no basis for that belief. Yet she had seen the way some of the maids had acted around him, as if they feared he would notice them. Since Sir Edmund carefully selected women who were free with their favors to work within the keep, Cecily knew that aversion was not due to the fact that Sir Fergus might decide he wanted one to warm his bed. She was a little surprised that there was a very young girl inside the keep, but decided it was probably because extra people had been brought in to help serve the guests.
What dismayed her the most was not that Sir Fergus was a brutal swine, but that her guardians could not be ignorant of that fact, yet continued to drag her toward the altar. That meant that they simply did not care that they were marrying her to a man who would undoubtedly shame her with his many infidelities and abuse her. Cecily knew that neither Sir Edmund nor Lady Anabel had ever cared much for her, but if Artan was telling her the truth, it was far worse than that. They liked her so little that they would blithely give her to a man who regularly beat and raped women.
It was all too much, she thought and closed her eyes. She had been betrayed by a man she had thought to take as her lover, and he wanted her to believe that she had been betrayed by her guardians for twelve long years, that they were about to make her marry a brutal man who planned to kill her when he grew tired of her. Just trying to wade her way through what might be truth and what might be lies had her head spinning. For just a minute she needed to rest her poor, beleaguered mind.
The next Cecily knew she was being nudged awake by the toe of Artan’s boot. She scowled at him as she struggled to her feet. Her scowl grew into a glare when she realized she now had a rope around her waist and the other end was attached to thick leather baldric he wore. It was obviously a mistake to go to sleep around this man.
When she realized she had to relieve herself, she nearly cursed aloud. She did not even ask him if he would allow her any privacy, but just stomped off toward the shelter of the trees. Only briefly did the rope go taut, indicating his hesitation; but then she heard him come up behind her. When she reached a tree trunk wide enough to provide her some shelter, she turned to face Artan and simply pointed her finger toward another spot. The amusement that glittered in his eyes made her want to scream.
Deciding that talking might provide each of them with just a little more privacy as they tended to their personal needs, Artan said, “Ye will come to see the truth soon, lass. Ye are clever, and a wee bit of time to think will make ye see things ye have missed before now.”
“Right now the only thing I am missing is my own soft bed,” she muttered.
“Ye can have a nice soft bed when ye get to Glascreag.”
“Did ye ne’er think that I might want to marry Sir Fergus?”
“Nay, ye proved that by coming to meet me at the burn.”
“It might be best if ye dinnae speak on that. One doesnae like to be reminded too often about how big a fool she has been.”
“Ye werenae a fool,” he said sharply. Then before she could argue that, he continued, “Ye may be slow to heed what else I tell ye, but I could see that ye were close to believing the truth about Sir Fergus ere ye rested. ’Tis best if ye get away from Dunburn just to avoid that marriage.”
“I cannae avoid it, nay unless my guardians end it. All I shall do by staying away from Dunburn is shaming the Donaldsons, mayhap e’en draw them into a feud or the like.”
“’Tis nay more than they deserve.”
Cecily stepped out from behind her tree, put her hands on her hips, and glared at him. “Mayhap, if what ye are saying about them is the truth. Of course, if what ye are saying about Sir Fergus is also the truth, then I doubt his family will take such great offense when the marriage doesnae take place. Howbeit, I only have your word that all these things are true.”
He moved closer to meet her glare squarely. “Of course I speak the truth.”
“So ye say.”
“And so Old Meg says as weel.”
“Old Meg?”
“Aye.” He pointed to one of the bags hanging from Thunderbolt’s saddle. “Who do ye think packed some clothes for ye?”
Old Meg had known what he was going to do and had allowed it? thought Cecily, her mind reeling in shock at the possibility. She quickly shook aside what felt like a traitorous thought. Old Meg would not agree to having her kidnapped. Then she recalled how much Old Meg disliked Edmund and Anabel and how much the woman had scorned Sir Fergus. It was possible that she had helped Sir Artan, not because she believed his accusations, but because she wanted to get Cecily away from Dunburn and Sir Fergus.
“Just because Old Meg helped ye pack a few clothes for me doesnae mean she believes all ye say. She has ne’er liked Sir Fergus, and she could have just been trying to get me out of that man’s reach. Aye, especially if she kenned how he is with women.”
Artan grabbed her by the arms and gave her a little shake. “At some time ye are going to have to accept the truth. I am nay lying. I heard Edmund, Anabel, and Fergus plotting how they will soon be rid of ye and how they will divide up the spoils.”
“But it makes no sense. E’en if Edmund and Anabel have been lying about the inheritance and cheating me out of what is my due for years, why would they bring Sir Fergus into the fold? If they couldnae e’en share what was all mine with me, why would they share it with him? He isnae kin to them. He isnae e’en a close friend.”
“He has been Anabel’s lover. How much closer do ye want him to be?”
“Anabel has lovers?”
Artan found it interesting that that was the thought that would come to Cecily’s mind and not the fact that her betrothed had betrayed her. “Aye, oh she is verra discreet, unlike her husband; but, aye, she has lovers. Sir Fergus was one of them, although I cannae say much for her selection. She obviously doesnae practice what she preaches.”
“Has she been your lover?”
“Nay, I havenae touched a single woman at Dunburn except you.”
“Davida doesnae count, is that it?”
“I ne’er touched Davida either. She was sent to me in the hope that she would make me miss the mea
l in the great hall that evening.”
He certainly looked as if he was telling the truth, his gaze not wavering from hers at all. Cecily hastily pushed aside all thoughts of what Davida had or had not been doing with him in his bedchamber. It carried the taint of jealousy, and she did not want this man to know that she might care enough to even be jealous.
“Nay, just because Sir Fergus and Anabel once shared a bed, it doesnae mean she shared anything else. She is as good, if nay better, than Sir Edmund at keeping a secret.”
“Some secrets can slip out nay matter how careful one is, e’en if it is only enough for someone else to start adding things up.”
“And ye think Sir Fergus did a wee bit of adding and came up with something that has the power to make Sir Edmund and Anabel do what he wants?”
“Aye, he has something to club them with to get what he wants.”
Cecily waited a moment but Artan said nothing else, so she demanded, “Weel? If ye want me to believe all ye are saying, ’tis best if ye tell me all ye heard or think ye heard. Why would Sir Edmund and Lady Anabel do what Sir Fergus asks them to?”
“Because he discovered they had something to do with the death of your father and brother.”
Every ounce of color fled Cecily’s face and Artan reached for her. Just as he moved there was a noise he recognized all too well. He felt the air stirred by the arrow as it sped by just behind his neck. How had Sir Fergus found them so quickly?
Chapter 9
The arrow was still trembling when Cecily suddenly found herself scooped up into Artan’s arms. Her gaze stayed fixed upon that arrow as he ran to his horse and tossed her into the saddle. Not once did she protest as he mounted behind her and kicked Thunderbolt into a gallop. She just hung on for dear life and tried to sort out her confused thoughts as Artan saw to their escape.
Despite all of her threats, she did not wish Artan to be hurt, yet it was now very clear that his life was in danger. If he had not leaned toward her just a little at that precise moment, that arrow would have buried itself in his neck instead of in the tree. She would have had to stand there and watch him die.
Cecily shivered as a chilling fear for him rushed through her. Obviously, his deceit and betrayal had not been enough to kill her feelings for him. She did not believe all he had told her about her kinsmen and Sir Fergus, but she knew that Artan meant her no real harm. He had been told to bring her to her uncle at Glascreag, and although she might deplore his methods, he did not deserve to die for it.
She decided she was left with two choices. She could get Artan to leave her behind and then run for his life, or she could stay with him until they reached Glascreag. Cecily felt almost certain she could never accomplish the former. A man like Sir Artan Murray would not run away, especially not after all he had done to entrap her into this foray. And if he truly believed all he had told her, he believed her life was in danger and he would never leave her to face her enemies alone. That meant she was headed to Glascreag. She knew she was not much of a shield, but she felt her presence should cause their pursuers to at least show some care. After all, they did not want her to die.
As soon as they stopped running she would tell Artan her decision. It would not stop the pursuit of her kinsmen and, she suspected, the Ogilveys, but it would make it easier for Artan. At least he would no longer have to worry about guarding her anymore. He could turn all of his attention to guarding his back and getting them both safely behind the walls of Glascreag. She just hoped he did not give her much of an argument when she told him that her stay there would be very short. As soon as the Donaldson and Ogilvey men arrived at her uncle’s gates, she had every intention of returning to Dunburn with them.
It was dark by the time they halted. The only sound Cecily made as Artan helped her to dismount was a soft groan. Her body felt as battered as if she had been thrown down a rocky slope—several times. She could not even feel duly grateful for the fact that Artan had untied her and she was now free. Espying a lush spot of grass, she walked toward it and carefully sat down. Putting her full weight on her abused backside was more than she could bear, however, and she slowly reclined until she was flat on her back.
Glancing to her side, she watched Artan tend to his horse. The beast was well trained and had both speed and endurance. At the moment, however, she did not appreciate that as she knew she should. The fact that Artan moved around as if he had not spent the better part of two days in the saddle did not please her very much either. In the mood she was in, Cecily suspected angels could descend from heaven and offer her all she could ever desire in life and she would be hard-pressed to count her blessings.
“No fire?” she asked when Artan came and sat down beside her.
“Nay, I cannae be sure where they are, and I dinnae want e’en the faintest hint of smoke in the air to lead them to us. In truth, I was taken by surprise today. I hadnae expected them to take up the pursuit so quickly.”
She frowned as she thought about that. “Nay, they shouldnae have guessed I was gone until the morning meal at the very earliest. I wonder how they kenned I had slipped away? I am verra sure no one saw me if only because, if they had, an alarum would have been called.”
Artan took a drink of wine and handed the wineskin to her. He did not want to say what he was thinking. Someone had gone to his or her bedhamber and discovered they were missing. Considering what he had done to Sir Fergus, there was every chance the man had sent someone to cut his throat. It was just as possible that the man himself had tried to slip into Cecily’s bedchamber and take from her what he had been denied taking from that poor wee maid. The fact that Artan had been showing Cecily some marked attention certainly would have inspired the man.
The why of their discovery did not really matter, however. All that was important was that someone was after them and would be trying to catch or kill him all the way to Glascreag. When he thought of what a poor job had been done in the various attacks on him at Dunburn, Artan was deeply concerned about Cecily’s safety. She could all too easily be injured or killed, despite the fact that they would have been sent out to retrieve her. Unfortunately, she would be no safer at Dunburn, and he could think of few places he could safely hide her between Dunburn and Glascreag, not without traveling miles out of their way. Worse, until she believed him about the threat to her life, she would undoubtedly just try to return to Dunburn if he left her side.
“So ’tis just ill luck that has put them on our trail so quickly,” Cecily muttered. “I seem to be having a lot of that just lately.”
Artan bit back a smile. She sounded sulky and there was the definite hint of a pout in her expression. He did not remark upon her statement because he knew she would undoubtedly let him know she considered it all his fault. In one way it was. He had not planned on the pursuit starting so quickly.
“We shall rest here for the night and start our journey again just before the sun rises,” he said.
“I ne’er really saw who was chasing us.”
“Some of your guardian’s men and some of Sir Fergus’s.”
“Who leads them?”
“I believe it is Sir Fergus.”
Cecily could not hide her surprise. Sir Fergus did not seem to be the sort of man who would leap into the saddle to chase anyone anywhere. He certainly had never shown her the sort of attention or interest that would drive a man to do so. A little voice in her head suggested that the man was not chasing her, but chasing a fortune, and she struggled to ignore it.
“I have come to a decision,” she said.
“Oh, aye? Have ye decided to believe me now?”
“Nay, not completely, and especially not about that last club ye hit me with ere we had to flee for our lives.”
“Then what is your decision about?”
“I shall travel with ye to Glascreag. I willnae keep trying to run away, not that I have had much opportunity to do so. Nay, I shall agree to go to Glascreag and give ye no more trouble about it.”
He spra
wled on his side and rested his head on his hand as he studied her. “But nay because ye believe all I have told ye.”
“Nay, but I will do it because I cannae see that ye need to die just for doing what my uncle asked ye to. ’Tis evident that the men chasing us intend ye harm and would nay hesitate to kill ye if given the chance.”
“So ye think to be my shield?”
She sighed at the hint of mockery in his voice. “In a way. I ken I willnae be much of one, but I will be enough to make them at least take care. E’en if ye arenae right about Sir Fergus, he doesnae want me dead. And if ye are right, weel, he still doesnae want me dead—not yet.”
Artan wanted to protest this idea she had to protect him but bit back the words. She had agreed to go to Glascreag willingly. He certainly did not want to risk her changing her mind. It would make the journey a great deal easier on both of them if she was willing, and a lot less dangerous as well.
He moved away to get them something to eat. They had enough supplies to last a few days, but then he was going to have to find them more. Hunting was a possibility, but it took time and he did not think it would be wise to lose too much time in the pursuit of food. He would have to lose Sir Fergus and his men so that he could get some more supplies from some cottager or in a village. It should not be too difficult to lose his pursuers for at least a little while, he decided. Sir Fergus might know where he was taking Cecily, but he did not know exactly how Artan would get there.
“Do ye think we can get to Glascreag without confronting Sir Fergus and his men?” Cecily asked as they shared some bread and cheese.
“There is a good chance of that. I ken this land weel. I dinnae believe Sir Fergus does.”
Cecily frowned. “I dinnae think so, but I now realize that I ken verra little about the mon I am to marry.”
“Ye willnae be marrying him so I wouldnae worry about it.”
Highland Barbarian Page 10