by Johanna Maas
"How long have you known I was following you?"
With a smile he said, "From almost the moment you left the shade of those trees. Remember, Lizbeth, we are seasoned Scottish Highlanders and for our entire lives we have been training to stay safe and to stay alive." He stared at her, then shook his head in disbelief that she thought she could attempt to elude someone such as he.
"Why would you follow?"
Lizbeth looked away, now unsure as to what to say and knowing she could not lie to this man. She professed that until her duty was fulfilled and she within her family's care, she could not disclose her truths. She chose instead not to answer. She understood that as he had been training all of his life to protect his family and his clan, so had she. But in a different way. Even though she understood her body already had deceived her by her reactions to his caresses, in her mind she was not yet ready to concede.
Blake moved to stand before her and rose up to his full commanding height. She gazed upon his handsome face, his alluring eyes and his powerful body standing before her, but continued to remain silent.
Blake knew he could not force her to respond so he simply looked at her with a knowing in his eyes and said, "Come."
Lizbeth stared at him, her mind flashing back to a memory of a different time when he also spoke that single word. She remembered clearly it was what he had commanded that one night those few weeks ago. It was the very night she had first laid eyes upon her warrior. Lizbeth conceded she would follow him yet again and would all the way to the ends of the earth, if he simply instructed her to do so.
She gazed at him a moment longer and then turned in resolution to walk over to the gray mare as she collected her things along the way. She could feel the blush rise upon her cheeks for the emotions he had summoned within her and also for the embarrassment of discovery she felt. She reasoned that if Blake knew she had followed, then so did their entire party.
But as she gained the sides of the Campbell clan and walked slowly into their camp, no one said a word of her presence and no one inquired. Cait simply walked over to her side and embraced her, silently offering her unquestionable support as she held her closely in the early morning light.
*****
Although Blake had offered her a seat before him on his mount, Lizbeth chose to sit upon her own horse for the remainder of their journey. She knew her body was quite weary and her backside rather sore but she also understood by day's end they would be safely and securely upon the Stewart's lands. Or so that is what the great warrior had promised. Being this close to her home, she did not want his touches to persuade her from her planned course. By this time, she strongly suspected they most assuredly could.
Her plan had not changed. She would leave the safety of this group just before they entered the castle once they were upon her homelands. She acknowledged she needed time, wanted to be able to do things her own way to ensure her family's wellbeing and their safety before she could comfortably reveal herself. She could only hope when her true identity had been disclosed and the time came for this kind family who had taken her in and would forgive her. The very last thing she wanted was to distance herself from those who had saved her from her certain wretched life and treated her with more kindness and respect then she truly deserved.
When the late afternoon was finally upon them, the excitement was surely beginning to consume Lizbeth and made it most difficult for her to maintain her exterior calm. As they moved from the final great stand of trees, she saw it across the valley and her heart began to beat wildly as her breath caught in her throat. She stared in awe for the glorious sight laid out before her.
Lizbeth's home. The place that had been hers for the first ten years of her life. The place that held her heart and her father and her two brothers and the rest of the Stewart clan. The emotions overwhelmed her as her eyes threatened with tears and her breath caught within her throat as her body began trembling in anticipation.
She had not realized it but she had pulled her great gray to a standstill as her eyes lovingly caressed the castle and the grounds that lay far in the distance. Lizbeth sat frozen and deep in thought as the Campbell family moved beyond her now motionless beast, at first not realizing she had halted.
The small party was many paces ahead when Blake turned and saw Lizbeth and noticed the expression upon her face for the first time. Without hesitation, he turned his own mount and cantered him back the side of who he deemed now to be a complex and stunning woman. As he brought his steed to a stand next to hers, he could only stare sorrowfully upon her for the unshed tears residing within her eyes.
"My lady?"
She was torn from her revelry and back to the present by his caring voice. She looked away, knowing he would see the signs of her tears and the anguish written upon her face and more than anything wished he would not see her so. Lizbeth swallowed harshly and replied quietly in the hopes he would not question her further.
"Go ahead, for I will not be joining you. This is where our paths will part."
Blake stared at her questioningly as a perplexed look crossed his face and a heavy grief settled upon his heart. Why would she travel so far and then not complete the journey? With a sigh, he realized it was not for him to question the motives of one such as she and it was not for him to decide her fate. Once again, he sadly conceded her silence disclosed nothing to him. He understood and as he had told her previously, she was not a prisoner to him. He would not press her and would not force anything upon her, unless she asked for his assistance. And if she did, he would gladly aid her in any way he could.
With a sadness he simply nodded his head, a sure grief growing within his heart as he said gently, "Very well, my lady. As you wish."
He looked at her for just a brief moment longer, allowing her the time to halt his retreat or say something if she so desired. When she did not, he then turned his great black steed from her side as he kicked his beast into a full gallop so he could quickly regain his party.
Lizbeth watched her warrior go and leave her side as a sure hollowness settled upon her heart. The tears released themselves from her eyes and were now falling freely down her cheeks as the emotions of what laid out before her coursed through her body. Lizbeth watched the small party for long moments until she could see them no more, for the blur of her tears had completely removed them from her sight.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When the dusk began to settle upon the land all around her, Lizbeth moved her beast forward. Deliberately, she pulled the hood upon her cape up and over her head effectively hiding herself from those around her. She could see the outline of her home in the distance and her heart beat faster with every step her mount took her in that direction. Closer and closer she moved, the anticipation making her anxious and creating a spiraling flutter within her breast.
As she neared the keep's walls, she noted there were people moving freely about on horseback and on foot, inside the gate and out for the early evening meal was surely upon them. As she moved with the throng of people over the drawbridge, she went undetected by the sentries posted above. She continued to follow along and when she neared the square she dismounted, leaving her horse with a small stable boy among a group of other beasts.
Slowly, she walked with the people as they moved up the stairway and into the great hall above. Her heart beat heavily within her breast, knowing every step she took was bringing her nearer to those she loved. As she passed over the threshold, she realized the great room was filled to more than capacity. The tables lining the chamber were completely filled as many stood around the outer edges of the room. All those in attendance were anxious to gaze upon the visitors and acquire their first glimpse of who was to become the new lady of the castle and her family.
Lizbeth, who had her hood still drawn over herself, walked steadily through the chamber among the other guests. So as not to draw unnecessary attention, she kept her eyes downcast as she moved herself effectively to the rear of the room. She finally settled herself withi
n its shadows and directly across from the family table that was located adjacent to the massive hearth. As she backup up to the cool outer wall, she moved herself to the edges of a group of people while attempting to go unnoticed among them.
Lizbeth held her breath as she looked over the large chamber and to the head table that stood proudly and regally above the rest. Her breath caught firmly in her throat for those who were there. She noticed immediately her father who was in the middle and standing largely above the rest. As she gazed at him, she noticed he had a smile upon his face and was eagerly conversing with those around him. She recognized him immediately for he had not changed much over these last seven years with the exception of his hair had lightened a bit from what she had remembered. He was still the same robust man he had always been as he exuded a certain power over everyone around him.
Lizbeth watched with awe as she recognized his exuberant and animated arm and hand gestures, recalling memories from the past how he would do the same when telling some exciting story. On and on he spoke, warming her heart for the sight of him as her breathing grew more rapidly for the memory of it.
Sitting directly to his left were all the Campbell men of the great laird's house. The Laird Campbell himself, then Blake and Lucas, sitting quietly and stoically by his side. To her father's immediate right sat Cait and then Lizbeth's eldest brother Macay. Her breath hitched wildly at the sight of him. How her heart cried out for the loss of his guidance, for the loss of his nearness and the tenderness of his brotherly love. He was as strong and as handsome as she had remembered him being, though it was obvious he had matured over these last years. She gazed at him intently as he appeared to be politely conversing with Cait as a smile tugged heavily at his lips.
Next to her beloved Macay sat what must be her other brother Burk. Had he not been sitting right at her older brother's side, she was not sure she would have even recognized the man. He was so changed for when she last saw him he was but thirteen. Now, he was transformed and she realized he was quite a man and would be nearing his twenty first year. He was just as tall and appeared as strong as Macay, but had the dark and soft features of their mother.
The emotions were clearly overtaking her body as the tears began to form within her eyes. With a panic, she realized she must exit this room immediately if she planned to stay undetected. When Lizbeth made a move to do just that, one of the Stewart clansmen noticed her for the very first time. He instantly detected her distress and stared at her for she was clearly unknown to him. He attempted to place her and understand her presence within the Stewart's great hall.
An immediate alarm was sent up as Lizbeth panicked and attempted to hide herself from the gaze of the Stewart clansman. Her meager attempts were fruitless for the seasoned warriors inside the chamber were instantly on alert and immediately surrounding her. Her arms were grabbed tightly and held firmly behind her back as her hood was pulled down from her head for all to see.
Blake sat quietly observing the great chamber from the upper table looking down over the masses of people as he detected immediately the tension in the back of the room. He recognized her slight form instantly and her potential danger even before the hood was drawn from her head. He quickly rose and raced from the table drawing his own sword, as he made ready to protect her. While he was uncertain of her purpose, he knew he must go to her aid. When he stood but a few paces before her, he noticed immediately how her arms were held tightly behind her as the pain registered clearly upon her face.
"Release her!" Blake shouted as he stood before the Stewart clansmen, his sword now unsheathed and threatening as the Stewarts began to cautiously surround both of them. A hush fell across the room as he stood boldly before her, wanting to defend and needing to protect her.
Lizbeth began to panic as she saw the Stewart clansmen encircle her warrior. This was the man who had saved her from her horrific life and now she was frightened for he was undoubtedly in danger. The Stewart clansmen who were too numerous to count stood by with their own swords drawn as they completely outnumbered him. They were all prepared to attack for the unknown. Slowly the Stewart clansmen circled closer around him, anger apparent in their eyes and just waiting for the instruction from their chieftain.
"Father! Macay! Please make them stop!"
It was Lizbeth's forceful cry halting all those in the hall and anywhere near. Everyone was transfixed and staring at the slight woman with the blonde hair. A full hush permeated the chamber as they all stared down at her.
Lizbeth pulled her arms desperately from the men holding her and quickly moved to stand before Blake who was still being surrounded by her own clansmen. She looked around heatedly at the Stewart clansmen and silently challenged each and every one of them to make their first move.
Lizbeth gazed up sadly into Blake's eyes and said softly, "I am so sorry…"
Her voice trailed off as she took his large hand within her own and moved from the stunned men of her homeland. Surprisingly, she was allowed to pass freely and made her way up before the head table. Her father stared down at her from his place above, as did her brothers and the Campbell family. Each held a startled gaze with brows furrowed and their eyes filled with speculation. For no one with the exception of Lizbeth knew or completely understood the entirety of it.
For long moments, she simply moved her gaze from her father to her brother Macay. She was willing them to know who she was and hoping they would believe. No one moved and no one spoke as the silence continued to permeate the great chamber. She gazed up and through her tears she spoke with misery.
"Father? It is me…Lizbeth."
A stillness continued to fill the great hall as he stared down relentlessly at the girl who had been presumed dead these last many years. His face spoke only of the confusion and dread he felt. For the blood and the bodies found…
It was Macay who moved swiftly around the table and now stood before her looking deeply into her eyes. He wanted desperately to believe but was afraid to be wrong for it had been so many years.
Lizbeth looked into his eyes and spoke to him in the only way she knew how. Her loving way and that of the ten year old child he once knew.
"I am afraid dear brother, I am now grown and am a might big to be placed upon your shoulder."
Macay held his breath as he looked down deeply at her as his eyes widened and a slight smile began to appear upon his face.
"And I never did perfect throwing that blade…"
Lizbeth continued to stare, hoping and praying he would remember the secret only the two of them had shared and the one thing no one else had ever known.
Macay released the breath he had been holding and closed his eyes as he breathed a sigh of relief. With a rush of emotion, he felt the confirmation and an assuredness of her true identity as it flooded through him. He opened his arms wide and was moving forward as he fiercely embraced his long lost sister. He hugged her tightly to his chest as the emotions choked him fully.
Within moments, Lizbeth's father and her brother Burk were near. Each at first were unbelieving then finally accepting she was who she said she was and was now standing before them. For long moments the family stood as such, the Stewarts in full astonishment as the tears of happiness streamed down Lizbeth's face.
Lizbeth watched as Laird Stewart now looked at Blake in a new direction, a new hatred in his eyes as he drew his own sword. He had a sure purpose within his stance as he made assumptions of Lizbeth's whereabouts.
"No, father!"
Lizbeth pulled from her brother's arms and placed herself in front of her warrior as she stood firmly before him. She backed up to Blake's chest as she effectively stood between the two men with her hands raised in full defense. She stood looking deeply into her father's eyes, imploring him to understand.
"It was not the Campbell's who took us. Blake is the one who rescued me."
The Laird Stewart looked from Blake and back to his daughter again, searching her eyes and wanting to be certain of the truth. As he
looked deeply at her, his heart beat furiously for the other one who had been taken on that day...
"My dear daughter….your mother?" He looked forlornly at her with a hope in his eyes.
She shook her head slowly and sadly, silently confirming her fate as she said, "Please father, let us sit so I can tell the whole of this story and the horrid truth of this tale."
Macay moved back to Lizbeth's side and took her arm in his as he moved her away from her warrior and to the head table to his own place above. Gently, he placed her next to Cait as he stood attentively by. As Lizbeth lowered herself upon the chair, Cait reached over and grasped her hand, an encouraging smile upon her face as she provided the strength she needed to proceed.
As Lizbeth began to speak, the whole of the hall stood silent as they intently waited for her to confirm the truth. It was understood theirs was not just a loss to the family, it was a devastation to the entire clan.
"As you may remember, it was a hot summer day those seven long years ago. Mother had promised to take me to the stream on the first sunny day. And that day, was it."
Lizbeth closed her eyes, knowing it was her fault they left the grounds and she knew she would carry that grief with her every day of her life. The tears began to well within her eyes as she felt her brother's strong hand upon her shoulder and Cait squeeze her own hand wrapped within hers. They were both silently instilling their strength in her so she could continue.
"I was wading in the water when the three large men approached on horseback. At the time, I had no idea who they were or what they would have wanted. All I knew was that I was afraid for they were ferocious and they were very strong. They forced mother and me upon their horses, taking us away from here."
Lizbeth paused again, those memories from within the clearing flashing through her mind. She took a deep breath and continued, "But I soon learned it was the Laird Macnab and his two sons who had taken us on that day."