“As well as two of James’s men and one of Rory’s guards. I’m no’ sure know how long it’ll take them to reach her, and now ’tis so dark outside.”
“Did the guardsmen who returned with you ride back out again?”
“They did, immediately.”
“Then I’ll try to catch them up and find her.” Rain slashed the window and a chilly blast of air whistled down the chimney and sent the embers flaring. He tossed another log onto the fire and strode to the door.
“Colin, wait. She does no’ love him.” Tears pooled in Elizabeth’s eyes. “Dinnae let MacDonald find a way to take her away from us. I fear that will happen with them being left alone.”
“I’ll find her and bring her home. Let Rory know I’ve left but will return with her afore dawn. No one will take her from me. Of that I can assure you.” He stormed from her chamber, gathered his satchel and all he needed for the ride and galloped out the gates.
Riding hard, he urged his destrier through the forest, keeping as close as he could the river’s winding path. The storm waters surged over its sides, a murky black in the dark abyss of the night. As the rain beat down on him, his thoughts plagued him. Annie thrived on the outdoors, would take any challenge and dare another to join her.
Throughout his life, she’d issued challenges to him countless times. The first had been not long after he’d built his tree hut. She’d insisted she could take down the first small creature with her bow, so side-by-side they’d sat on the front platform of his hut high in the treetops, his long legs swinging over the edge next to her tiny feet.
He’d spotted the half-hidden rabbit in the brush first, released his arrow and taken down his prey. Annie had squealed her delight for his win, and from that day forth, she’d issued challenge after challenge in the hope of beating him.
Thunder rumbled across the night sky and lightning hit the tree behind him with a sizzling crackle. His mount reared on its hind legs then crashed down and bolted into the river. The waters swirled and surged around him. He shoved his knees into his destrier’s flanks and forced the animal to swim with the flow rather than risk going against the turbulent current. The white-capped rapids carried them downstream and at the river bend, he jerked on the reins, caught leverage on the stony bed and with a heave and splash, slogged to the other side. Colin roared his victory as he made solid ground.
Now to rescue Annie.
Riding hard, he tore down the trail toward The King’s Tavern, galloped into the courtyard and woke a groggy-eyed stable lad. “I’ve come from Holyrood House in search of Mistress MacLeod. I’m her guardian, Colin MacLean. Can you tell me where she is?”
“Aye, ye’re the first from the traveling party to arrive. She’s upstairs, the last chamber at the end of the passageway. My sister, Milly, remains with her as her chaperone.”
Good. Annie had been wise to ensure such a thing.
“Is there a way inside without waking the proprietors?” He’d rather get Annie clear of here before he confronted James. MacDonald could wait, whereas Annie and her reputation couldn’t. Sneaking her out and returning her to Holyrood before the castle awoke was imperative. Aye, the less who knew what had happened this day, the better.
“Ye can use the back door near the kitchen.” The lad lugged a key from his breeches pocket and handed it across.
“I’ll return soon, and should my man, Arthur MacLean, or any of her MacLeod guardsmen arrive in that time, tell them to wait for me.”
“Aye, sir.”
“If you’ve time, give my horse some oats and rub him dry.” He paid the lad, used the key and slunk inside the inn.
Water dripped and pooled at his feet as he snuck across the kitchen and around the center wooden bench piled high with cleaned pots. He ducked under the low doorframe and keeping to the shadows, whisked up the side stairwell to the landing. All was quiet above-stairs, each door leading off the darkened corridor firmly shut. He stopped at the last door, turned the knob and crept inside. A fire burned low in the hearth, the glowing embers lighting his way. He eased around a pallet on the floor where a lass with tangled brown tresses slept, then without making a noise, knelt at the side of the large bed.
Annie slept, her long white-blond hair a silky halo tumbling over her pillow. He lifted a lock and ran it through his fingers. “I’ve missed you, scamp.”
“Mmm,” she murmured as she rolled onto her side and curled her cheek into her palm. She was such an innocent, but his innocent.
“Annie, love,” he whispered as he gently pressed his hand over her mouth. He didn’t care to startle her, but he couldn’t take the risk of waking the child and causing a stir. ’Twas best no one knew he’d come until they were well gone. “’Tis I, Colin.”
Annie’s lashes drifted open and her eyes lit with happiness. Slowly, she glided her hand over his and plucked his fingers away. “I’m awake, and very glad to see you. Have you seen my aunt?”
“She’s well, and resting at Holyrood. You though, are in a world of trouble.” He leaned in and kissed her, and not nearly as long and deeply as he wished to.
“When am I not?” She swept her hands around his neck, dragged him down and with her heart beating against his, kissed him as if she’d feared never to see him again.
One taste was all it took to cloud his senses. He urged her lips apart and plundered the sweet depths of her mouth until her tongue tangled with his in a heated duel.
“Thank you for coming for me,” she whispered against his lips.
“I will always come for you, although you’re never to go riding with MacDonald again and we shall have stern words about this upon our return.” He pulled back an inch, one difficult inch, but thankfully ’twas all he needed to gather some control. “I discovered who the other two men scheming against you are. They’re MacDonalds as well. Scourges, the lot of them.”
“The MacDonalds are always scheming against our clan, but no’ James.” She sat and pushed the covers off. “He wishes for peace. He truly does, Colin.”
“You’re defending him? Even now after he took you away from me?” How could she trust the man so implicitly?
“He never took me away. If aught, ’tis my fault we lost the rest of our party. I challenged James to a race and we rode through the river before the storm waters rose.”
“Such a thing will never happen again.” He took her hand and helped her up. “Come, we must be away.”
She tiptoed across the wooden floorboards to the clothes-rack where her clothes dried before the fire. She slid her red velvet gown over her head and wriggled it down.
He stepped in behind her and laced the stays then helped her don her riding jacket and boots. “Ready?”
“Aye.”
Holding her hand and following the exact route he’d taken in, he led the way out the door and downstairs through the dark. Outside, he stopped and Annie bumped into him from behind.
“What are we waiting for?” She squeezed his fingers.
Across the night-shrouded courtyard, all remained eerily still.
“Stay close.” He withdrew his sword. “All is too quiet.”
Chapter 4
Annie and Colin had to leave without causing a stir or waking a soul. Pulse pounding, she tiptoed in Colin’s footsteps as he skirted the edge of the inner courtyard alongside the wooden outbuildings. He kept to the shadows, stopping every few steps to ensure she remained close behind.
Near the entrance to the stables, he pressed her against the wall. “Stay,” he hushed. “Since I found a way across the river, the others might have as well. I dinnae care right now to deal with any MacDonalds.”
“Be careful.” ’Twas her fault he was here.
“Always.” With his claymore raised, he snuck inside.
Eyes squeezed shut, she clung to the wall. A shuffle and a slap ricocheted toward her then nothing.
“Arthur is here.” Colin appeared out the dark.
She gasped and grabbed his shirtfront. “What about the
others?”
“Arthur crossed upstream, although he barely made it through. The others willnae be far behind him.” Arms wrapped around her, he kissed her forehead and murmured in her ear, “We must leave, as quick as we can.”
“Then why are we still standing here?”
“Because Arthur is bringing the horses out and I was rather enjoying this stolen moment.” The moonlight tracking through a break in the dark clouds above lit his golden gaze.
“You’re a terrible tease, and you should be more concerned about your own safety.” She pushed past him and marched into the stables.
Frowning, Arthur led her palfrey toward her. Water dripped from his wet hair onto his deerskin cloaked shoulders. “You are a troublesome lass, Annie MacLeod.”
“Aye, I’m sorry you’ve been riding all night to reach me.”
“The others will find a stretch of the burn to cross soon, just as I did.” He eyed Colin who stepped in behind her. “Although I would like to know how you managed to arrive afore me.”
“My horse apparently has wings.” Colin caught her around the waist and lifted her into her saddle. He fixed her skirts, collected his destrier from Arthur and mounted. “We’ll ride right through. No stopping.”
Arthur nudged his horse into the clear night air and rode out.
Colin glanced at her. “Do I need to issue a challenge?”
“Nay, but I will. Race you.” Energized again, she flew through the night.
Colin pounded in beside her, his dark hair whipping about his shoulders and his watchful gaze alert on their surroundings.
As they reached the river’s edge where she’d first managed to cross, Arthur slowed and jumped down. Assessing the water’s depth, he wandered along the bank then returned and leapt into his saddle. “This is now passable. I’ll go first.”
He urged his horse through the muddy waters flowing with debris and up the other side before waving out for her to follow.
She bundled her skirts higher, showing a few inches of leg but better that than get sopping wet again. Colin groaned and she raised a brow. “Is there a problem?”
“Aye, you, and you’re a mighty one at that.” He slapped her palfrey’s flanks and her horse jerked forward and splashed into the river. Halfway across, a tumbling log riding the waves caught on a protruding rock and bounced off. It skimmed past her mount’s front legs with barely an inch to spare before crashing into the bank.
“Move on, quick,” Colin ordered as he came closer.
She nudged her horse, climbed the verge and joined Arthur.
“Next stop, Holyrood House.” Arthur tapped his heels to his horse’s sides and rode into the dark.
“Come here, trouble.” Colin leaned across, caught her hand and kissed her knuckles.
“That’s scamp to you.” She slapped her reins on her horse’s neck and lying low, followed in Arthur’s tracks through the forest.
Never had she felt so safe, regardless of their mad dash through the night.
Throughout her life, Colin had always been there, and she didn’t want to know a day when he wouldn’t be. Aye, she wanted him in her bed and holding her each night as he had at Holyrood. Hopefully, he wished for the same.
As the night sky lightened, they left the forest behind and galloped toward the palace with its ever-watchful guardsmen patrolling the barbican.
“’Tis almost dawn.” She rubbed her cold nose.
“Aye, but we’ve made it back in time.” Colin sent her a reassuring look as they drew up before the stables. He jumped from his mount, slung his satchel over his shoulder and swung her down beside him. “You look cold. Time for a warm bed and plenty of rest.”
“Aye, please. I’ve had enough riding for the day, although I need to see Elizabeth first.” Exhaustion seeped into every muscle and she swayed against him as they walked inside. They snuck through the side entrance near the service quarters and once at her aunt’s door, she knocked. “Aunt Elizabeth, ’tis Annie.”
The door flew open with a whoosh. “Oh, my dear. Thank goodness Colin found you.” Her aunt squeezed her tight, her soft lavender scent floating around her. Over her shoulder, she said to Colin, “Thank you. I knew you’d return with her as you promised.”
“Aye, and now I’ll remain in her chamber, guarding her with my life while she sleeps.”
“Good. I dinnae know if my poor heart could take anymore.” Elizabeth rubbed her thumbs under Annie’s eyes. “Go and rest so these dark circles will be gone for this eve’s ball. I’ll let Rory know of your return.”
“Is he very upset?”
“He knew Colin would find you.”
“I’m sorry I caused you any concern.” She hugged her again.
“You’re back, safe and well, and that’s all that matters. Rest well.”
“Good night.” She trudged into her chamber, Colin her ever-present shadow.
He bolted the door and built a fire to roaring life, although his damp clothes clung to him.
“Let me help you.” Yawning, she leaned over him from behind, her white-blond hair sliding forward around his face as she freed the front of his padded leather cotun. Carefully, she eased it off his shoulders and hung it over the chair next to the fire.
“I’m used to the elements. Being a little wet will never hurt me.” He added another log, rose to his feet and faced her. “Ready yourself for bed.”
“After I’ve seen to you.” She loosened the top laces of his tunic, gripped the hem and lifted his clammy shirt over his head. His wide chest held a smattering of hair, the same dark shade as his head, and his arms and shoulders were hard and packed with muscle. So beautiful, if one could call a hardened warrior that. Her tiredness fluttered away and unable to help herself, she trailed a finger over his contoured abs and down to the waistband of his leather trews.
“Annie.” He groaned and shook his head. “I can undress myself.”
“I’m sure you can, but you’re wet because of me.” She swished to the side table and grabbed a drying cloth. Carefully, she rubbed the remaining moisture from his chest and arms then sashayed around him and stroked his shoulders and back. Muscles flexed and rippled, everywhere. Nay, not just beautiful, but glorious.
“You have to cease.” He caught her hand and tugged her around to face him. “You’re killing me.”
She flicked him with the cloth. “Death by a drying cloth? I think no’.”
“You know what I mean. I have very little willpower when it comes to you.”
“Nay, you have far too much willpower.”
“I want to kiss you, and I’d prefer no’ to stop.” He slid his hand under her hair and around her nape, his fingers firm and warm on her skin. “Except that’ll only lead to danger.”
“You always meet danger head on. Dinnae stop now.”
“I’m running out of time.”
“Because you intend to rescue your chief?”
“Aye, this coming eve, the night of the masquerade. I’ll be gone soon after, and unable to protect you.”
Unable to court her either. Pain lanced through her. His intentions were clear. He was leaving, and soon. His duty to his chief and clan came first, something she adored and would never halt him from.
Shakily, she stepped back. “All will be well. I have Rory so you must no’ worry. I’ll take the utmost care while you’re gone.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll never stop you from doing your duty. I understand.”
He caught her hand and halted her retreat. “You cannae accept another man’s proposal while I’m gone.”
“Rory isnae leaving until I’ve secured an engagement. Even should you still wish to aid me in selecting the right man, you’ll be gone for weeks. I dinnae have weeks, no’ if I wish to decide my own path and ensure the king cannae demand another match.”
“That’s no’ what I meant.”
“I’ll no’ speak of your intention to rescue your chief. It comes as no surprise to me that you had a
plan to do so.”
“You still misunderstand. I cannae leave you knowing James MacDonald waits in the wings. There is only one thing for it.” He hauled open his satchel, tugged his plaid out and tore a short strip from it. He clasped his right hand with her right and wrapped the plaid around both their wrists. The symbolic gesture had her pulse racing. “Annie, I wish a handfast. Bind yourself to me as my wife for a year and a day, and afore that time has passed, I’ll ensure we’re wed proper.”
“Pardon?”
“You cannae marry James.”
“And you cannae ask me to marry you because you feel a sense of duty toward me.” She shook her head. “Nay, I—”
“I love you, Annie. There is no sense of duty in the deep desire I have for you.”
“What did you just say?” Her heart fluttered with hope.
“I love you, and as much as I wish to protect you from enduring a life with me, I’m too selfish to let you go.” He lowered to his knees, brought their joined hands to his lips and kissed her palm. “Speak vows with me. I’ll begin.” He cleared his throat. “I, Colin Eoin MacLean, of Mull, pledge my troth to Annie MacLeod. With this handfast, I take her as my wife for the next year and a day.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “I want you as mine, in every single way.”
“As I want you. I cannae believe this is happening.” She sank to the floor, her fingers twined with his. “I, Annie MacLeod, of Skye, pledge my troth to Colin Eoin MacLean. With this handfast, I take him as my husband for the next year and a day. Now what do we do?”
“We seal the vows with a kiss.” Gaze smoldering, he dipped a finger down her neck and along her riding jacket’s square-cut neckline. “Come closer.”
She swayed forward and he captured her lips in a scorching kiss, his hard body a fierce heat that stamped warmth into hers just as she desired.
“My wife,” he murmured against her lips. “As you always should have been.” He rose to his feet and drew her up, untied the plaid binding them and removed her jacket. With his hands on her shoulders, he turned her around and unlaced her gown. He smoothed the red velvet down over her sark until it fell in a swish to her ankles. “Time for bed.”
Highlander's Guardian Page 7