A Knight To Call My Own

by Sherry Ewing

  Rolf pushed Ian away and went back to his place by the fire. ’Twas almost as though all of Rolf’s energy left him with his sudden appearance. “And she just as easily could have been mine,” the obnoxious man grumbled under his breath. “Besides…I am her captain, and, hence, she is mine to safeguard.”

  “That privilege was taken from you when she came under the protection of my name.”

  “And yet, you have not been sealed together as man and wife under the eyes of a holy priest of God.”

  “Our handfast is still binding. Even you must know that,” Ian roared.

  “Nevertheless, she is, or was, my responsibility, and my honor is at stake. You do know about honor, do you not? If so, you must surely understand my reasoning behind my actions. She was taken whilst under my care. Hence, ’til found, I will search for her.”

  Ian felt some of the hostility leave him, and yet, he kept his guard up. Still eyeing his rival for Lynet’s affection, he was surprised when the older man made a slight gesture to join him by the fire.

  “You may as well sit, Ian. There are still plenty of hours left of the eve, and we may as well take our ease together and join forces come the morn in our quest to find your lady.”

  At least, Rolf acknowledged Lynet was his. Surely, that must mean something. Ian came and took a place next to the man on the ground. There had been a time when he had considered Rolf a friend. They had trained together and fought side by side to hold Berwyck Castle in the name of England’s king. It did not matter that Ian would be leaving his allegiance to England behind as he took his place as laird of Urquhart Castle. He understood honor and all that went with a code of chivalry for one who has been knighted. He himself had lived most of his life by such a code. ’Twas of no consequence he now wore a plaid and his duty would lay with Scotland and its king. Some habits were still extremely hard to dismiss.

  His gaze returned to Rolf, and he noticed the knight wore only his everyday clothing. No armor, nor chain mail. There was nothing to protect him from an inevitable fight that could cost him his life, except the sword at his side. Considering Rolf’s injury to his arm and the knowledge he himself was not completely healed, a fight with the enemy to save Lynet did not bode well for a favorable outcome.

  Ian massaged the wound still mending at his side. Truthfully, he was not in much better shape than his old comrade-in-arms. “You ride light, I see,” Ian mentioned the obvious, “and with only three guards. What were you thinking?”

  Rolf shrugged. “I see you travel the same, so I think we were both idiots with like minds. I am sure Dristan will be appalled we thought so little of ourselves to travel thusly. He will think he failed in our training.”

  “I am sure we will get an earful when next we meet.”

  “Is not that plaid a little drafty?” Rolf inquired with a smirk as he turned the conversation to Ian’s attire.

  “One becomes used to it.”

  “I shall have to take your word for it.”

  “The plaid gives one a certain amount of freedom, and it keeps me warm on a chilly night. Those Irish were clever when they came up with such a garment. Although, most times, I still wear hose with it.”

  “I have no idea how running around half naked or possibly showing your arse to the world during a good wind can possibly give you any form of comfort or protection. You hardly look like a knight of old, Ian.”

  “Times change, but I still adhere to our code of honor,” Ian muttered as he stretched out his long legs whilst attempting to get comfortable. He grabbed his plaid and wrapped it around his shoulders for warmth. “I will assume you will remember such, once we find my wife.”

  “You do not have to keep reminding me you have claimed her, Ian. I have taken your point.”

  “Just stating the obvious, old man, in case you had forgotten.”

  “’Tis hardly likely I could ever forget Lynet cannot be mine. You do not have to continue to rub my nose in it,” Rolf declared with a hint of bitterness in his voice.

  “I will concede then and expect no further argument that you will try to claim her.”

  Rolf took a stick and began stirring the embers of the fire. “’Tis not as if I, or anyone else, for that matter, even stood a chance, once you arrived at Berwyck.”

  Ian tossed his old friend a glare. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Do you not have eyes inside your head, or are you merely daft? Do you really have no inkling how the lady has always felt for you?”

  “She had a childish fascination with me, but hardly knows the man I have become.”

  “Think you that means anything to Lynet when her feelings ruled her judgment?”

  “What do you know of her feelings?” Ian asked harshly as jealousy overtook common sense.

  “I am the person who has guarded her, not the one who left her grieving for what she could not have for six years. I was the one who watched her grow into the beautiful young woman she is today. I would be blind if I had not realized where her affections lay, despite my best efforts to let her know another loved her. Given that, I think I know her feelings better than most people, including you.” Rolf made no further comment as to his knowledge of Lynet. Instead, he found his own blanket to keep the cool night air away. Throwing another log on the fire, he at last relaxed and closed his eyes. “Wake me afore the dawn,” Rolf ordered quietly. “We should make an early start to find Lynet.”

  Ian harrumphed under his breath, feeling as if he was being likened to some youth who did not know better than to rise early to make the most of the day. He noticed Angus and Connor returning from scouting the area. “Take turns with Rolf’s guards, and continue to keep an eye open to the lurking shadows. I do not wish to be taken unawares whilst I sleep. We ride with the dawn.”

  He watched his men meld into the gloom of the evening night. Uneasiness descended around Ian’s soul, as though in forewarning of something dreadful to come. Nervous about what the morrow may bring, Ian had enough of a concern that he took another moment to look at the perimeter of where the campfire light shone beyond the darkness of the trees surrounding them. Seeing nothing noteworthy or any signs of imminent danger, he shook off such an unsettling premonition, thinking he had spent too much time of late with Kenna.

  He closed his eyes, thinking of Lynet and how she would view her new home on Loch Ness. He would be most pleased to show her where he had grown up and watch in fascination as she made Urquhart a place to raise their family. He stifled a hearty yawn and settled down for the night. Falling fast asleep, he dreamed of how happy their marriage would be and of the woman he would claim as his lady wife and finally be able to call his own.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Calum tugged sharply on the rope, causing Lynet to hurtle forward with enough force that she sprawled face first in the dirt. She was a stubborn wench, he would give her that, but he was tired of dallying this day. They needed speed and a fair amount of distance from Berwyck afore he would feel any sense of safety for his sorry hide. They must make haste. He could almost feel the heat from the Devil’s Dragon breathing down his neck!

  Momentarily ill at ease, with thoughts of having to come up against such a powerful foe, he tugged again for the girl to pick herself up off the ground. Calum listened to the gasp escape her lips. Her eyes met his in a furious display of contempt. She hated him, not that he cared. ’Twas not hard to miss her loathing look of contempt she so unabashedly tossed him. He knew ’twas because of the uncontrollable situation she found herself in. Lynet was not good at masking her feelings, for what she felt for him was written all over her beautiful visage. A visage that now bore the signs of several scrapes along her cheek and chin. He offered her his hand, but she only slapped at it, as if repulsed to even come this close to him.

  He could see her wrists were raw and bleeding from the burns of the coarse rope, yet, he would not loosen the knots, in fear of her escaping. She had gotten past his guards more times than he wanted to admit in the past few days. S
uch an act had already cost one man his life. At this rate, he would be lucky to reach the Highlands with anyone left other than himself and this troublesome girl.

  “If you wish to take care of your personal business, I suggest you pick yourself up post haste,” he growled. “We have wasted enough time this morn with your attempts to dawdle the day away.”

  Slowly, she arose from the ground and spit out the dirt that had landed in her mouth during her fall. The glare she tossed him was like the sharpest of daggers thrown in his direction. If she had had a blade, Calum knew her dagger would be protruding, even now, from his chest. God’s blood she has spirit. Perchance, he should keep her for himself after all, and to hell with asking for a ransom. He always did prefer a woman who could stand up to him, instead of some meek little mouse. The more he pondered his alternative, the more he decided against such an action. Keeping her would not fill his depleted coffers and ensure the safeguard of his estate. He needed coin, and he needed it fast. He must needs stick to his plan.

  “Untie me,” she snarled.

  “Nay, I will not.”

  “How am I to see to my needs then with my hands secured like this?”

  He studied her for a moment, understanding her dilemma. He went to her. She did not back down, but held out her arms for him to loosen the rope. He considered her request and again noticed the bleeding flesh at her wrists. ’Twas a sharp contrast to the creaminess of her skin. She gave a sigh of relief when the coarse ropes left her abused wrists. But such a freedom was short lived when he refastened the rope quickly around her waist.

  “Nay!” she cried out.

  He tossed her a smug look, as if he had already read her thoughts. They were mirrored clearly on her face. “Your hands are free. ’Twill have to suffice.”

  “But, I need my privacy!”

  “I’ve lengthened the rope, lass. ’Tis all the privacy I will allow you, seeing as you canna be trusted. You best be about your morning ablutions and keep the rope taut, else I will be seeing more of your very delectable body than you would no doubt like.”

  “You are a brute,” she shouted at him.

  “A brute, I may be, but I am also a man who is losing what patience I have left. I care not if you piss in the woods or do so right here in front of me. Make your choice, lass, afore I take it from you and set you back upon my horse,” Calum warned, waiting for her decision.

  She stomped her foot. ’Twas a clear indication he spoiled yet another idea in her pretty little head about an attempted escape. He crossed his arms on his chest, giving the rope a flick, almost as if he was putting his mount into motion. His action of treating her like an animal had the desired effect.

  “Damn you to hell!” she cursed. She made her way to the nearest tree afore she gave him another glare of those brilliant blue eyes. “The least you could do is turn your back.”

  Chuckling, he gave her this one concession, even as he heard her muttering further oaths on his early demise. God…what a woman!

  ~***~

  Lynet peeked around the tree and saw her captor had indeed turned his back. She would have sighed in relief, but instead, cussed him further, much to his amusement, since he was still within hearing distance. How was she to obtain her freedom on her own? She could not fathom another option she had not already tried in the past several days. Now she had this blasted roped tied about her waist. She still agonized that her antics had already cost one man his life, and she choked down the bile threatening to rise in her throat. Yet, she had no doubt in her mind, she would still risk everything to return to her family.

  She felt an impatient flick of the rope that became an instant reminder she must needs hurry. Quickly taking care of her business, she at last dropped her skirt and made an attempt to smooth out the material that was fast becoming a rumpled, torn mess. Giving a weary sigh, she gave up any attempt to make herself look more presentable for when Ian at last found her. He had seen her at her worse afore. She supposed now would not make much of a difference, considering her current circumstances.

  Leaning her back against the bark of the tree, Lynet brought her hands together, closed her eyes, and took a quick moment to offer up a heartfelt prayer to God to save her. Her mouth silently moved feverishly in her attempt to complete her petition afore she was interrupted yet again by her troublesome abductor. With a hasty amen, she waited with bated breath for some sign her prayers had been heard. But, there was nothing to show that her efforts had pleased God above, no matter how rapidly she had been forced to say them.

  She tilted her head, as though listening more intently would give her some form of an answer. Lynet thought it oddly strange the forest was eerily silent. There was no whisper of the breeze rustling the trees, no sound of the birds calling to one another from the treetops, no sounds of small furry animals as they scurried from bush to bush to hide against intruders. Complete silence…something was not right. No forest was ever this still.

  “I grow annoyed, Lynet. If you know what’s good for you, then you had best make haste,” Calum called out, only this time with a more forceful tug on the tether that kept her within his reach.

  “I am coming,” she replied and made her way around the barrier protecting her from his prying eyes. She was almost surprised to see he still had his back turned. When she neared him, he at last faced her to take hold of her elbow, as if the rope was not enough to ensure her captivity.

  “I pray you do not request another reprieve from our course this day, my lady, for I am done stopping every five minutes with another sorry excuse passing from your lips,” he all but mocked her, and she knew, without any doubt, he had divined the game she had been attempting to play. ’Twas too bad she had obviously failed to execute her part well enough to outwit him.

  “Let go of me, you brute,” she sneered. She could tell her ruse to slow down their every move would no longer be tolerated. Looking into his eyes, she could have sworn he had a look upon his face that appeared as if he was indeed impressed with her stamina to keep trying to escape. It quickly changed, and she liked not the gleam that entered his black, menacing eyes.

  Afore she could make any form of protest, Lynet was shocked to feel herself harshly yanked up against his body as he captured her arms at her sides in a steely grip. Her head barely met his chest. Her hands hung useless at her sides so she was unable to do anything other than gasp at the contact of their bodies. She tried to calm her breathing, since the last thing she needed was to have her chest heaving in and out, further tempting his arousal. She was afraid to even move, lest he have other ideas in mind than just holding her. She already could tell where his thoughts had led, considering she could feel his rigid manhood pressed intimately against her.

  Her mouth opened to voice her displeasure only to snap shut when the unmistakable sound of a snapping twig echoed in the quiet air. ’Twas not hard to miss such a crunch, given the atmosphere around them afore such a racket had been thick with noiseless tension.

  She abruptly found herself tossed behind the giant wall of Calum’s back. She gasped when his fist dug hard into her belly as he made a grab for the rope at her waist. She began to squirm to try and look around him so she, too, could see what had caused such a clamor.

  “Be still,” he hissed, giving the rope a hard tug and almost causing her to lose her footing.

  “I will be more than happy to, if you would but release me and take your leave. I am more than capable to find my way home,” Lynet purred with sarcasm.

  “Shut your mouth, and be silent, else I will be obliged to stuff a rag in your trap. I have had enough of you this day.”

  She shoved at his back. He barely moved as he continued to listen intently to their surroundings. And then, she heard it. Slanting her head, Lynet strained to ensure ’twas not just her imagination playing a cruel jest upon her. But, nay…she heard it, yet again, and there was no mistaking the sound this time. ’Twas the softest whistle, sounding much like the trill of a nightingale. How many times in her you
th had she heard such a familiar song? ’Twas the most beautiful melody she had ever heard, for the tune practically called out her name.

  She tried not to show her eagerness when she raised her head to view Calum. He appeared as if he heard nothing out of the ordinary with the staccato sounds of the chirping bird, even though he roughly grabbed her arm, forcing her to follow him at a brisk pace.

  For the first time since her capture, Lynet’s face lit up with pleasure, for she knew something that, apparently, her abductor did not. Male nightingales generally sang out their song to call and attract a mate or to protect their territory. The birds generally only warbled in the eve, or just afore the break of dawn. Since the sun was still up, and night had as yet to descend upon them, it could only mean two things. God had answered her prayers, and, even more importantly, Ian was at last near.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ian tossed Connor a silent glare. If he could have pummeled the man for his stupidity, he would have done so, but he knew how the sound would carry in the air like the sharpest clap of thunder resounding across the land.

  “I am verra sorry, me laird,” the Highlander muttered.

  “Do ye ken what ye are doin’ wit’ yer feet, ye clod?” Angus replied sharply.

  Ian raised himself from his crouched position behind the tree as he watched his lady from afar. The element of surprise quickly vanishing afore his very eyes, he watched in dismay when Lynet’s abductor began a fast pace to return to his encampment. Calum of the Duncan clan…he would not have expected him, of all people, to be the ruffian to have stolen his wife. He had thought the man to be determined to win himself a bride, but never foolish enough to take someone from the care of Dristan of Berwyck.

  “We must needs hurry if we are to catch them afore they return to his camp,” Rolf voiced what was already running rapidly through Ian’s own thoughts. The older knight flicked his wrist towards the three guards who had followed him from Berwyck and gave a motion towards his eyes for them to be on the lookout.