“I should speak with James before we leave,” Emma said and hurried off, not letting Rogan stop her.
“She does not let her wound hamper her, though at times you can see it pains her,” Liam said, watching how she turned a smile on a grumpy James.
“Which is why she will ride with me the remainder of the trip,” Rogan said as if declaring an edict.
“You stir the pot to boiling,” Liam warned.
“It can boil over for all I care.” Rogan watched as Emma turned James’ scowl into a smile. “Did she speak of her nightmare at all?”
“No, not a word, though when in the woods her every move seemed cautious. It was almost as if she expected something to pounce out at her.”
“We are going to pick up our pace today,” Rogan informed him. “I want to reach home as soon as possible.”
“As you wish,” Liam said with a nod. “I will go inform the men and Macinnes warriors as well.”
Rogan walked off to get his horse, intending to end Emma’s conversation with James and have them on their way.
“You can ride with me or one of the other men,” James said as soon as Emma informed him that she would be riding with Rogan today.
She almost blurted out that she would prefer riding with Rogan, his arms gentle and his chest quite comfortable, but caught herself. Instead, she said, “For some reason Father has entrusted me into Rogan’s care and while I would prefer that he had not, I cannot do anything about it at this moment... but obey. As soon as I am able, I will see that changed. Until then, it would seem that you and our warriors as well as myself are to obey father’s dictate.”
“You are a good, obedient daughter,” James said with a generous smile. “You do your father and clan proud.”
“Time to leave,” Liam announced, walking through the camp. He stopped next to her. “Rogan waits for you.” He gave a nod and a look beyond her shoulder.
She turned and saw Rogan standing beside his horse.
“Your warriors are here should you need them,” James said, “though I must admit, Rogan protects you well and for that I am grateful.”
James walked away and Emma went to Rogan.
“Ready?” he asked, though did not wait for an answer. His hands went to her waist and the next thing she knew she was up on his horse. He mounted after her and adjusted her to rest comfortably against him. “We set a faster pace today.”
“Then we get home sooner,” she said with a smile, pleased to be in his arms again.
They were not traveling long when Rogan said, “Tell me about your dream.”
Her sister’s warning rang in her head like a tolling bell. Do not trust anyone. But she had also cautioned her to follow her instincts and instinct told her that it would do no harm to share her dream with Rogan.
“I woke to a strange stillness and my sister Patience calling out my name. It took me a moment to realize I was dreaming. She told me to hurry and so I ran into the woods. I never saw Patience, I only heard her. She told me that she did not send the message, though she did say she was well and that we would rescue Heather. We heard footfalls then and she told me to run. I turned to do just that and found myself facing the most menacing figure draped in black, blocking my path. It was when he spread his arms out, resembling a dragon that I screamed.” She shivered. “It felt so real, not a dream at all.”
“It would seem that all your worries took flight in a nightmare. We questioned Patience’s message and so you dream she did not send it. You worry if she is well and she tells you she is fine, and she assures you that both of you will find Heather. And, of course, the Dark Dragon makes an appearance since you fear him having your sister the most,” he said sensibly explaining the whole nightmare away. “Worry not, we will find our answers.”
Emma nodded, as if accepting his explanation and perhaps she would have if she and her sisters had not reached out to each other in dreams before. And their strange connection had always proved beneficial. Rogan may think it nothing but a dream, but Emma believed that Patience had reached out to her. She intended to keep that thought private and she intended to find out who had actually sent the message.
~~~
The days wore on endlessly, the pace faster on some days more than others. Patience had not reached out to Emma in anymore dreams, though she had hoped she would, and she had hoped that Heather would do the same, but she had not.
She and Rogan talked often while they rode together and she grew more comfortable with him. It was strange since they seemed to be at ease with each other much like a husband and wife would be, at least her warriors believed so, for they grumbled about it amongst themselves, but not quite enough for her not to hear as she passed by.
It was with some relief that she saw Rogan’s keep in the distance, though it also signaled that their time together was at an end. No more would she feel his arms around her and it saddened her heart and, once again as in the cottage, she felt as if she was saying good-bye to him for good.
They entered the keep together to find his father well into his cups.
“Good, you are home,” Angus MacClennan said, waving his goblet at one of the servants, ale spilling over the sides. “Take the plain lass to a room and see to her. We have to talk, son, Ronald Macinnes sent me an important message.”
“Then you will discuss it in front of me,” Emma said, stepping forward, her hands on her hips and ignoring the pain in her shoulder.
“Nonsense, go do what women do and leave this to the men,” Angus ordered, though none to clearly.
Rogan shook his head. He probably would have reacted the same as his father had he not gotten to know Emma. He almost cringed, recalling that he had reacted similarly upon first meeting her. Now, however, knowing her as he did, she was not a woman that could be discounted so easily. And her sharp intelligence could prove an asset to them.
Emma marched over to Angus and grabbed the goblet out of his hand.
The man stared at her in shock.
“What message did my father send?” she demanded.
Angus was so stunned by her actions that he answered her without thinking about it. “Donald says we are to do nothing until we hear from him.”
Rogan stepped forward. “When did you receive this message?”
“Just this morning,” Angus said.
“Who brought the message?” Emma asked.
“A Macinnes warrior,” Angus said, reaching for the tankard of ale to fill another goblet. “Now, I want time with my son, so be off with you.” He gave a yell for Bertha several times. “Blasted, where is that woman?”
“Right here,” Bertha said her ample bulk swaying as she entered the Great Hall. “And your head will be planted on that table soon enough if you do not stop filling that goblet.”
“Take her,” —Angus waved in Emma’s direction— “and both of you be gone.”
“You cannot wave away women that easily.” Bertha laughed and took Emma by the arm. “Come with me. You need some tending.”
Rogan was surprised Emma did not protest, but then she had to be exhausted from the grueling journey, and since she heard her da’s message there was no reason not to take her leave.
Before Bertha ushered her completely out of the hall, she turned her head and said, “We will talk later.”
Rogan nodded. “After you rest.” As soon as she disappeared up the stone staircase, he turned to his father. “What else did Donald Macinnes say?”
Angus raised his tankard and smiled. “You knew I did not tell her all, but then she does not need to know that her father has ordered his warriors home and we are to wait to hear from him, and,” —his smile vanished—“he fears Heather may be lost to them.”
“Why?” Rogan asked, though he knew the answer.
“He believes the Dark Dragon has taken Heather.”
“How has he reached that conclusion?”
Angus took a generous gulp of ale before answering. “His warrior told him about the ghost warriors and eve
ryone knows who they belong to.”
“So Donald Macinnes will give up and let the Dark Dragon have his daughter?” Rogan asked, anger rising up to choke him. “Do not bother to answer. It is not his choice to make. She is my intended and my responsibility.”
“Not anymore,” Angus said, staring down into his tankard.
“What do you mean?” Angus’s hesitation had Rogan demanding, “Answer me, Father.”
Again Angus hesitated.
“Father!” Rogan said firmly.
Angus finally looked up at his son, squaring his shoulders, though still swaying. “Donald and I have long wanted to join our clans. So to make certain that would happen, we agreed on inserting a clause into the marriage agreement.”
“Without telling me?” Rogan snapped.
“Donald and I never believed for a moment it would see fruition,” his father insisted.
“Tell me.”
Angus did so with reluctance. “If for some reason your marriage to Heather did not take place when planned, then you were to wed Emma. I am sorry, son. I know she is plain to look upon, but Donald assures me she will make you a good wife.”
Rogan stared at his father. His problem solved itself. He had planned on seeing the marriage agreement changed, and now it had been done for him. He was thrilled, though he did not let his father know that.
“One other thing,” Angus said.
“Spit everything out, Da,” Rogan ordered.
“Donald was worried that with his daughter’s abduction and not knowing what happened to Patience that his clan could be in jeopardy if his illness should suddenly claim him. So he had you and Emma wed by proxy. I signed it this morning, sealing your marriage to Emma.”
It actually filled him with relief and joy that Emma was his wife. Donald Macinnes had made a wise decision. He had been right to worry about his clan being left without a chieftain. Now with Emma and him wed, Macinnes land and its people would be protected.
The only problem was... how would Emma react to the news?
Chapter Seventeen
Emma liked Bertha. She was a jovial woman and a caring one, but at the moment she needed to get rid of her before she once again took her clothes and stranded her in the bedchamber.
“We will get you a nice hot tub to soak in and some good food in that grumbling stomach,” Bertha said as they entered a bedchamber and she slipped off Emma’s cloak.
“Food,” Emma said, pressing her hand to her stomach. “I am so hungry. Could I eat first?”
“Of course you can, I will go get you something right away and tell the servants to wait with the tub.” Bertha headed to the door. “You rest yourself in front of the hearth until I get back.”
Emma sighed and nodded as she walked over to the chair and sat. As soon as the door closed, she sprang out of the chair, grabbed her cloak, and went to the door. She waited, giving Bertha time to clear the hall and head down the stairs. When she was satisfied enough time had passed, she peeked out and seeing no one about, she slipped out. She took the stairs slow, wanting to avoid anyone coming up or going down.
She had to find the warrior who had delivered her father’s message. She had a feeling there was more to the message than Angus had shared with her. Besides, she wanted to hear it directly from the warrior himself, and she wanted to ask him about her father. She was worried about him and prayed that his illness had not worsened. The messenger could only be one place... with the other Macinnes warriors.
The shadows provided cover as she crept through the keep without being detected, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she finally slipped outside. The village surrounding the keep was busy with clansmen greeting the returning MacClennan warriors and consoling those whose warriors had failed to return. Emma was intent on no one seeing her, so her steps were slow and cautious. She stopped a few times when voices got too near her. It was those times she noticed that several of the cottages looked in need of repair and that many of the cottage gardens were much too small to provide an adequate supply of food.
She shook her head. Now was not the time to improve the MacClennan’s lot. She had more important matters to attend to. She finally slipped unnoticed through the open, thick wood doors that enclosed part of the village and the keep and hastened her steps to the area were Rogan had directed James to join the camp where the injured Macinnes warriors had been set up. It lay beyond the village walls. James had scowled at the location, though he had been eager to see how the wounded warriors had fared.
Emma spotted James talking to a warrior and shaking his head adamantly. She hurried over to the pair.
James spoke up as she approached. “Your father has ordered us to return home.”
“That is not what Angus MacClennan told me,” she said, turning to the other warrior and recognizing him. His name was Thomas and she had fixed his arm when he had broken it, everyone thinking it was beyond repair. It had healed well and he had regained full use of it.
“He left out the part where your father said that Macinnes warriors are to return home and MacClennan is to do nothing until he hears from your father,” Thomas said. “There were also sealed documents your father had me deliver that were meant for Angus MacClennan’s eyes only.”
“Do you have them?” Emma asked anxiously, curious of their content.
Thomas shook his head. “I gave them to Angus MacClennan.”
Emma’s stomach twisted in knots. What was her father up to? Why had he ordered the warriors home? What had happened that changed his mind so soon?
She turned to James. “Is there anyone not fit to travel?”
He shook his head. “The injured men you tended before going after your sister are doing well and will have no trouble traveling, but what of you? Do you feel up to another journey or do you need a few days rest?”
“Something tells me I should get home as fast as possible,” Emma said, the urge to leave poking at her. “I would leave now, but the men need food and rest as do the animals. We will leave at first light.”
James smiled and nodded. “And no one need know we leave so soon.”
Could she leave Rogan without saying good-bye? But had she not already said her good-byes? And was it not better this way?
“Aye,” she agreed, “no one need know.”
~~~
Rogan stood in front of the hearth in his bedchambers, a towel wrapped around his slim hips and his skin still damp from his bath. He would let the heat from the fire’s flames dry him the rest of the way. Right now, he wanted to do nothing but think of how to tell Emma that they were husband and wife.
He had made it clear to his father that he would be the one to tell Emma that they were wed, and nothing was to be said about it until then. His father had agreed, but had urged him to tell her before tonight, since he expected his son to consummate the marriage and seal their vows.
He wanted nothing more than to make love to Emma, but something told him that she might not feel the same way. Not after learning that she was his wife and that she now had a new home, and would return only to her old one to visit. She certainly would never believe that it had been his intention to see that they wed, and she definitely would not believe that he loved her. He hardly believed it himself.
Love had struck him hard, though when he did not know. He had realized it more and more while tending Emma in the cottage and when her warriors had arrived and their time together had come to an end, he felt as if he was losing her. The thought had torn at his gut and heart. He detested the idea that she would no longer sleep in his arms or that he would never have a chance to kiss her again. But he also disliked that this marriage had been forced upon her. He wanted her to love him, and he thought that she just might with the way she had...
He shook his head. He knew lust when he saw it in a woman’s eyes, but love had overshadowed the lust in Emma’s eyes. And the fact that he had been able to see the difference had made him realize that he had fallen in love himself.
There was als
o Heather to consider. He had promised Emma that he would find her, and he would not go back on his word. Somehow, he would see the Macinnes sisters reunited.
Presently, however, he needed to set things right with his wife.
Wife.
He smiled. He had a wife and he loved her. And tonight... he shook his head. He did not know exactly what tonight would bring, but he did know one thing for certain.
Emma would sleep in his arms tonight.
~~~
Emma sat by the hearth combing her hair. She had returned to the bedchamber earlier to find food, a bath, and Bertha waiting. The woman had looked ready to question her, but Emma had simply announced that she was ready to bathe and eat. She had offered no explanation as to where she had been, and Bertha had not pursued the issue. Bertha had wrapped her shoulder with a clean bandage, and then suggested she rest. She had not argued and had slept several hours. She was now expected downstairs in the Great Hall for supper.
She would have preferred to spend the rest of the night alone and slip quietly away in the morning. Her heart was heavy with the thought of leaving Rogan, but it was time. She had to go. It would be better this way.
A knock on the door sounded and Bertha entered, a smile on her face and a dark red velvet dress draped over her arm. “Your safe return home deserves celebrating. Rogan’s father sent this for you to wear this evening.” She spread the gown out on the bed.
Emma stared at it. It was a beautiful dress, but not for her. “I am already dressed.”
Bertha clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Nonsense. Why wear a simple skirt and blouse when you have this beautiful dress to wear?”
“That dress is not me,” Emma said, pointing to it, “and this is no celebration. I have yet to return home. I will wear my own clothes.”
Bertha spoke softly. “The celebration is not only for you, but for the warriors who fought and suffered along the way. Share this night with them so they know you appreciate their efforts.”
The Highlander's Stolen heart (Macinnes Sisters Trilogy) Page 14