Rescued By the Scot

by Laura A. Barnes

  “Mac, we better tak’ a break,” Gregor shouted ahead towards her.

  Mac pulled her horse to a stop as she faced her men. What she saw, caught her by surprise. Her captive was slung across the front of his mount, passed out. She had only glanced at him moments ago and he stared at her as she rode in front of him. His dark gaze made her turn around and keep trudging along to their destination. It made her uncomfortable. He still had not spoken throughout the hours they traveled.

  She grabbed the reins as his horse tried to pass her. When she shook his shoulder, his only response was a moan. When she realized he was unconscious, she needed to alter their plans. They couldn't risk being in the open space for too long. It was only a matter of time before Shears’s men caught up with them, she was also in her enemy’s territory. The only decision Mac could make was to keep moving. They would arrive at their site in an hour.

  “Tie him on so he doesn’t fall off the horse. Ion and Gregor, you ride ahead to prepare a room for him and bring in Agatha. He will need care. The rest of us will follow at a much slower pace. Those at the end, keep doubling our tracks to throw them off our path. If they catch up to us, you know how to get rid of them. Any man who works for Shears is as low as scum as he is and deserves whatever comes to them. Now let’s go.”

  The clansmen did her bidding, as they would for any leader, only with more respect than they showed a man. The MacKinnon held the highest of their respect for whoever served under her. It wasn't shown out of fear but came from love and gratitude. She earned it through the trials their clan had been through over the years. There was no one stronger or more deserving than her.

  MacKinnon started off again on the trail, she took the shortcut through the open glen. It would be dangerous during the night, but worth the risk, if her prisoner received the care he needed. She raised her hand and gave them the signal. They took off through the glen at a fast pace. Her men holding the reins to Maxwell’s horse, making sure he wouldn’t fall. Their horses galloped faster as they made their way home. When they came upon a creek, the horses slathered with sweat cooled their hooves as they crossed. Once they crossed, the pack slowed their pace. They had passed without harm coming to any of them.

  A loud bird song let the air and the group answered the call. A young boy dressed in the clan’s plaid rushed up to Mac. She laughed and slid off her horse. Mac let out a warrior’s cry as she pulled the young lad up for a hug and kiss. She ruffled his hair and set him back on the ground. More men followed relieving them of their horses and patting each other on the back, welcoming them home.

  Mac gave out new instructions for Maxwell to be moved inside for Agatha to tend him. They carried him inside and laid him upon the bed prepared for his stay. Mac wanted to follow, she was concerned for him, but didn’t want to show her clan how he affected her. Which was weird, she hadn’t even spoken to him, but felt connected to him. It was the look in his eyes on Shears’s ship which captivated her. His gaze was haunted with deep sorrows that only she could understand. When a warm, small hand slid into her palm, she looked below and smiled at the love of her life. She swung her arm out and back again, making the child laugh. They continued this game as they walked inside the castle. Mac smiled as the wives and families greeted the men who rode with her to Edinburgh. She gazed in envy at the concern the women showed to their men. Why she experienced a sense of loss this time, she didn’t understand. Any other time she chuckled in good cheer, teasing them.

  Not liking the emotion of being lost in her own home, Mac decided to check on the patient. She stood in the doorway as she watched Agatha care for him. He was conscious and let the old lady tend to his wounds. Still, not one word uttered between his lips. He sensed her presence and glanced her way. She crossed her arms over her chest as she waited for Agatha to finish with him. The old healer rattled on trying to draw Maxwell out in conversation, nothing but silence met her attempt. She gathered her supplies, making her way to Mac.

  “Nae a talker is he,” the old lady shouted.

  Mac laughed when Maxwell rolled his eyes. She laced her arms through Agatha’s and helped her walk out of the room. As they walked along the hallway, she listened to the diagnosis of his wounds.

  “Dehydrated he is, starving too. His wounds ur minor, I’ve patched him up th’ best o’mah skills, th’ rest is on him. Needs nourishment is all.”

  “Shears had him for over a week, perhaps he was hoping to starve him to death.”

  “What urr ye planning wi’ him?”

  “Hold him for a month myself.”

  “Then?”

  “Trade him back to Shears for the weapons.”

  “Humph,” Agatha grunted.

  “What?”

  “Dinna think ah noticed nothing in that bedroom lassie.”

  “I do not grasp what you are referring to.”

  “Now ah remember, it wasn’t so much seeing but feeling.”

  “He is a means to an end.”

  “Ye can lie tae yourself if you want lassie, but I’ve raised ye since ye wur a wee bairn.”

  “Humph,” Mac replied.

  The old healer cackled as she walked into the hall. The castle was ancient and needed much repair, only various rooms were habitable. They used the old banquet hall as a kitchen and eating space. The noise grew louder as they celebrated making it home. Mac would let them have their fun for the evening. Then tomorrow they would make their plans to bring this to an end the next time they confront Shears. She turned and returned to the patient.

  He tried to sit up in the bed but struggled. She came to his side, sliding her hands underneath him propping him against the pillows. His body was burning hot to her touch. She let her hands linger longer than she should. While he might be sick, and she found him in deplorable conditions, his body was hard and firm. When she pulled back, he stopped her by his hand gripping her arm. He tightened his hold. She tried pulling back out of his grasp, but he only held her tighter. When Mac realized he wouldn’t let her go, she plopped next to him. Still, he didn’t release or speak to her.

  “How are you feeling? Agatha will bring you a bowl of broth.”

  Silence.

  “I trust you will remain within the walls during your stay here. We won’t keep you shackled as Shears did unless you try to escape.”

  “Why would I ever dream of escaping this wonderful paradise?”

  “Oh, he speaks.”

  “Mmm, I can do much more than speak,” he responded as his hand slid up her arm.

  This time Mac got herself free. His touch unsettled her. She moved to the farthest corner of the room and leaned up against the wall. While he smiled at her, she continued to observe him. His touch heated her in ways she never imagined. How was he able to control that power over her?

  “I am aware you are capable of more, but it will be nothing that interests me.”

  “Don’t be so sure of that Mac,” he said emphasizing her name. “So, what is your real name honey?”

  “Well Sassenach, it sure isn’t honey.”

  He growled at the name she called him.

  She responded as she took pity on him, “MacKinnon.”

  “I realize that, I listened to what Shears called you. Your Christian name?”

  “No need for you to know, My Lord, you can call me Mac.”

  “Tell me your name. It is the least you can do since you are holding me prisoner.”

  “Well see that is the thing. I am the one in charge, not you. I command you, you have no authority over me.”

  “My humblest apologies miss. I meant to say, that someone as lovely as you, must have a more poetic name than Mac.”

  “Ah, your charms won’t work on me Earl Zane Maxwell.”

  He raised that damn eyebrow again at her, at the usage of his name.

  “Oh yes, I have knowledge of your charm. I am wondering if the rumors are true.”

  “What rumors might those be?”

  “The ones, where you speak in your dark voice whis
pering promises of seduction while you charm your way into the young maids’ beds.”

  “I don’t visit young maids’ beds.”

  “Oh, that is correct, you charm the young maidens, then bed the married ones.”

  “Those rumors are also false ma’am.”

  “Now, now I am sure you heard me tell Shears’s man, how I hate when somebody calls me ma’am.”

  “Ma’am it shall be. Unless you wish to give me your name, I am at a disadvantage. I only wish to find out the name of my captor or should I say, my rescuer?”

  “As I said, Mac will do.”

  “We shall see.”

  He laid his head back against the headboard and sighed. Frustrated that he was getting nowhere with this woman. He would need to change his tactics to invade her thoughts. She appeared to be the leader, the men followed her directions. Strange for a lady in this territory of Scotland to have control. He shrugged, who be it to him, to question their ways. He realized now, she was the one to get around in his escape. If he could convince her to let him go, then he could be free. There looked to be only one way. He would have to charm her. Zane saw how his touch affected her as much as her touch affected him. What made her send him into flames? He noticed she was interested when her touch lingered as she helped him into a sitting position. Zane would take his time and go slow with her. He heard they were keeping him hostage for a month before they returned him to Shears. He would leave this castle before the end of the month. During this time, he would earn her trust, then make her his. Then when he was ready to leave, she would let him walk out of here. She was skittish, he could use that to his advantage. He hadn’t charmed the ladies around London for nothing. By the end of the week, she would join him in this bed, begging for more.

  She glared at him, smiling smug to himself. His eyes weren’t open, but she knew his mind thought of ways to escape. She perceived he planned to use her attraction to him as a weapon. For the first time in her life, she doubted herself. Any other man she encountered before left her indifferent to their touch, but this man was different. She must keep away from him. Agatha and the men could tend to him and keep him from escaping. She had work to do.

  When she pushed away from the wall, she made to exit the bedroom. Her leaving him was the best choice to do for now. She hadn’t gotten very far when he moved and winced loudly. Mac cringed at his pain and rushed to his side.

  “Leaving so soon Mac?”

  She growled at him as she turned and left the bedroom. He was playing with her. She had to be stronger or she would fall under his charms. When she marched into the banquet hall, she ordered Ion and Gregor to keep watch over him. The guards were assigned shifts but for no reason was Maxwell to be left alone. Mac slid in next to Agatha to eat her dinner, hoping for a peaceful meal, it was not to be.

  “A fine specimen o’ a gentleman, if ah say so myself.”

  “Ah did not ask.”

  “Ah know, ah wis only pointing the obvious tae ye.”

  “Ye need not point it to me either.”

  “No, ye dinna need me to,” Agatha cackled.

  “Out with it old woman. I see your dying to enlighten me on what humors ye.”

  “Ah sense it honey ‘n’ afore long everybody in this hall will tae. So, if ye do not want that attraction tae bloom, ye best keep yer distance from that one. He is a charmer. Dinna say one word, but old Aggie here kin tell one from a mile away.”

  Mac listened to her advice but didn’t respond. While she stayed in the room for the brief time she was with him, it vibrated around them. She decided before she departed the bedroom to stay away, not that she would share any of that with the healer. Agatha wasn’t only the healer to the clan, she was the next best thing to a mother. She raised her after the Sinclair clan murdered her mother. Aggie noticed every one of her moods, even this one. Mac wore her emotion’s like a sleeve, it was the one trait about herself she wished she could change. Anybody could tell what mood she was in by her expression. The women would see what she felt towards Maxwell, for that is the one they wore themselves whenever their men were near.

  She finished her dinner and went to the nursery. Young Lachlan was settled in his bed, awaiting his bed-time story. He made her heart melt. He was small and with a huge future ahead of him. She made sure his life was simple by carrying the burdens of their clan. Mac would carry the struggles now, for him to have an easy life to live and love. Mac sat next to him bringing the blanket up around him, tucking it underneath his small form. After she tucked him in, she leaned over to rub her nose across his, smiling into his young eyes.

  “Are you ready Lac?”

  “Tell me about the prisoner Mac.”

  “What is it you wish to know?”

  “Is he dangerous? Did he kill anyone? Are ye going to kill him?”

  Mac laughed at his questions; he had such an imagination. He would lead this clan to be prosperous after Mac left. And leave she was going to, soon. It was time to start her life once this mission ended. She devoted the last year to this clan, and it was time their leader returned. The leader meant to guide this clan. She only had to deliver Maxwell in one month, then she could hand over the reins. But to do that, she had to destroy Shears. Maxwell was her key to achieving her goal; only he had no idea. She was aware he had his own agenda towards destroying Shears and she had no problem on any action he took. Before Shears was dead, she needed information from him to make this clan thrive.

  “No, he is not dangerous. And I am not aware if he has killed anyone. As for me killing him…”

  “That is enough Mac, I don't want him to listen to this horror. It is dangerous enough when you let him wander around after you.”

  Mac paused in her description of Maxwell when the boy’s mother entered. Isobel waddled inside the bedroom and took a seat on the rocking chair.

  “I’m only explaining that we will let Lord Maxwell live,” Mac laughed.

  “So, you say. Lachlan it is time for you to sleep. You can follow your aunt around tomorrow and see her actions as she controls the new prisoner.”

  “But Mama, I’m not tired, I need to hear the details now. I am the man of the family,” he argued.

  “I know ye are dear, while your father is away. Ye father recognized when it was time to sleep and now it is time for ye to close your eyes.”

  Isobel tried to rise from the chair but struggled. Mac jumped off the bed and pulled her to her feet. Isobel was nearing her time, and every movement was a struggle. Putting her son to bed brought her such joy and she wouldn’t miss it. It further helped to ease the ache of missing his father and worrying after him.

  Mac helped her as Isobel leaned over to give her son a kiss goodnight. Isobel stroked her fingers through his hair and whispered her love for him. Mac always teared up as she regarded their sweet moments. It was the love of a mother to her child who loved her in sweet return.

  “Goodnight lad, we will play tomorrow,” Mac called out from the door.

  “Night Aunt Mac, dinna kill him till the morning.”

  “I promise,” she laughed as she hooked her arm through Isobel’s walking with her into the bedroom across the hall.

  Mac helped Isobel undress and laid next to her in the bed. Isobel moaned and turned on her side studying Mac as she stared at the ceiling. Mac was afraid to tell Isobel how Maxwell made her body come alive from his touch. Isobel had the patience of a saint though and would lay there throughout the evening, waiting for her to talk. That was the bad thing about your best friend marrying your brother. There were no secrets in their family. At least her brother wasn’t here to see this, he would tease her over her dilemma.

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “Only to me, but the others will notice soon enough.”

  “I will stay away from him.”

  “But will ye be able to?”

  “I must.”

  “I dinna think ye will, even though I believe ye will try.”

  “Is it this way with Logan?” />
  “Yes.”

  “I am sorry Isobel.”

  “It is not your fault Mac. He took th’ mission for the Crown. I understand ye are trying everything to get him back.”

  “It was stupid of him to leave, with young Lachlan and you with child. What was my idiot brother thinking?”

  “Do not be so harsh. Ye realize he took the mission to save our clan. He shall return, and everything will be well. I trust in ye.”

  Mac rolled over lacing her fingers through her friend’s hand. When her brother courted Isobel, Mac was furious with Logan for stealing her friend away. Once they married, she saw the love they shared, and realized she was gaining a sister she never had.

  “I will bring him back. Give me one month and he will be home.”

  “Ye will enlist his help, won’t ye?”

  “Who?

  “Ye know who, Lord Maxwell.”

  “No, he is only a pawn in my game.”

  “He can help ye destroy Shears, why not work together?”

  “Because I told you I will keep my distance.”

  “Why?”

  Mac rolled back over and watched the candlelight dance across the ceiling. The flames jumped around in a jig drawing out the shadows.

  “He makes me feel emotions I’ve never felt before.”

  “Is that awful?”

  “They are feelings I don’t want to experience.”

  “Why not Mac? Love can be a wonderful affection.”

  Mac’s laugh held a bitter edge, “Men like Maxwell do not love. They lust, get what they want, then leave you.”

  “Maybe ye are the one to change him.”

  “I don’t imagine I can. Look at me Isobel, I am not one to entice attraction in a man as sophisticated as him.”

  “Ye are a goddess and ye know it. Why do ye reason every man in this clan jumps at yur every command?”

  “Because they respect me and realize I am only filling in for Logan until he can return.”

  Isobel laughed, “They are in love with ye, even the married ones. The only reason their wives don’t attack, is because ye charm them as well. Ye have a spell wrapped around everybody in this clan since the day ye were born. Why wouldn’t Maxwell fall for it too?”