Enchanted Lover

by Scharon, Connie C.

  "Let’s do it," one of her captors pleaded groping her breast through the rough shirt.

  "Step aside." His master drew his sword. "There is no time. The MacLean wilna be down long."

  Each man grabbed a wrist and held her arms perpendicular so her body formed a cross. The taller man on the horse moved forward and teased her voluminous shirt with his sword. He tapped her shoulders lightly and raised his weapon over his head prepared for the down stroke that would end her short life.

  "Farewell, Lady Asilinn," he cried. Asilinn saw the flash of cold steel—she screamed in terror when he started a downward motion.

  Suddenly Ailleagian bore down on them his rider's battle cry echoing off the surrounding mountains. With one sweep of his sword, Jared MacLean sent the tall man's weapon flying into the rocks below. The men on the ground sprang back freeing Asilinn in their fright. Jared grabbed her up in front of him and wheeled his horse sharply taking the narrow trail at a dead run.

  The men behind them found their horses and gave chase. They were gaining. Around the next bend, the trail ended abruptly. Ailleagian sailed through the air landing safely on the soft turf on the other side of a chasm. Their pursuers skidded to a halt unwilling to make the jump that would allow them to continue.

  Jared stopped his horse and gazed back up at them. Turning they disappeared into the trail above.

  Asilinn's heart was pounding hard as she followed his stony stare. "Who were they?" She was barely able to breathe.

  "Traitors to my cause," he said. "But how…." His voice trailed off. He sat pensively for a moment then looked down at her. "Are you injured?"

  "Nay, Milord" Asilinn murmured, remembering all too clearly the sinister man who had threatened her life.

  "I think 'tis time we found a campsite. There's a shepherd's cabin beyond the hill. We can take refuge there." He urged the horse forward up the winding footpath.

  The cabin was a ramshackle affair. Its greatest redeeming feature was the stone fireplace that would enable them to heat their bodies and their food. Jared tied Ailleagian in a shed at the back and made quick work of taking the chill off with a fire.

  He handed her a small pouch of provisions. "Warm it."

  Asilinn did not protest. She could feel him watching her as she bent near the fire. When she had completed her task, she brought him his meal in a trencher borrowed from the shepherd's cupboard. Sitting down beside him, she focused on her food.

  He picked up his bread and dabbed at the heated meat. "Asilinn, do you fear me?"

  She raised her eyes to his and studied him for a moment. "Aye, Milord, I fear all of your clan. Wherever you go violence and death follows. 'Tis all I know of MacLeans."

  "Two clans made the war and it will take two to end it."

  "I canna dissuade you from your plan?"

  "Are you unhappy at the thought of being my wife?"

  His eyes danced at her lack of immediate response. Asilinn's anger flamed. "Dinna make me kill you to gain my freedom!"

  "Kill me?" He choked, totally amused by the prospect. "The dirk is not much of a weapon to use upon a man of my size."

  "Still I would be obligated to fight you." She scowled at him. "Do you know how much store I set in my murdered brothers? They were dear to my heart. It was you and yours who killed them."

  His face grew sober. "We are in the midst of a war, Asilinn. I dinna hold you responsible for the deaths of my clansmen."

  "I did not go out on the field of battle and slay your kin. You cannot say the same."

  His jaw grew taut. "Regardless my plan is set."

  "I cannot lay with a man who killed my blood." She could not lay with any man after what happened to her mother she thought to add, but the words fell short.

  He stared at her for a long time before he replied. "You must learn to accept your fate. Your womb shall bear my fruit and none will question the peace."

  Panic rose in Asilinn's chest. She should have taken the priest's advice and devoted her life to God.

  "I thought to enter the nunnery. You cannot steal what belongs to God alone." She heard herself say it—the brittle hollow sound reverberated through her head.

  He snorted, reaching his hand over to press her flat stomach. "Are you so pure? Maids with half thy beauty cannot swear so."

  Asilinn bolted from the table spilling her food on the floor. "I know nothing of men. Do you accuse me of fornication?"

  He rose to tower over her. His gaze probed her until it felt as if he were touching her. She flushed and tried not to look at him, but she was inescapably drawn back to his intense perusal.

  "I'll know soon enough if you are as innocent as you claim."

  "You would smite God with your plan?" Asilinn crossed herself. "I shall pray for your eternal soul."

  The fire in his eyes made Asilinn want to step away but she dared not show such weakness for her sudden religious decision.

  His hand moved again to rest intimately on her belly. "My issue in your womb," he grated between clenched teeth. "And if I'm not the first between your thighs, sweetling, you should save your prayers for yourself."

  "Stop this! This cannot be! Find another wife to warm your nights. I cannot betray my people and my God!"

  "I dinna give you a choice and I wilna betray your people. As for God, you have not taken a vow and gone to the chaste life. Now your chance is gone."

  They glared at each other in silence.

  ***

  He screamed obscenities at them until they all cowered before him. "Incompetent fools!" he shouted in frustration.

  "Perhaps tonight…." one man ventured.

  "We have no time to make another attempt! You have failed me." Drawing his blade, he poked under the chin of the one brave enough to form a rebuttal. "Fail me again and your life shall be forfeit."

  The blade withdrew leaving a seeping dark stain on the neck of the gray hood. Sheathing his sword, he kicked at the dirt.

  "Discard all clothing you wore today. Laird Jared will notice anything you keep and discover you as traitors. No one is to do anything until you receive word from me." The men nodded and took off in different directions.

  He watched until each shrunk away, disappearing into the shadowy woods. Exhaling sharply he mounted his horse and headed for Dunbocan alone.

  ***

  Asilinn tossed restlessly, her sleep interrupted by the vivid dream running repeatedly in her head. She sat up shivering. Laird Jared MacLean slept peacefully a few feet away. Could it be true? She gazed at his muscular form. Her father valued her gift of premonition above all her other skills. Was this dream to become reality? Jared stirred and she knew the answer instinctively.

  Chapter Three

  Asilinn's pensive stare woke her captor. He stretched and rose from his makeshift bed then leaned down to free her from her bonds. "What troubles you, Asilinn?" He cast an inquisitive glance at her dark frown.

  “Naught, I could not sleep trussed up like a lamb for the slaughter." Freed she turned from him and straightened the huge, floppy shirt she wore.

  "You gave me no choice, wench."

  That was true enough. She had refused to give her pledge not to attempt escape. "Your plan wilna succeed. It will only cause a bigger conflict. The hate runs too deep."

  "Regardless, I will try." He grasped her hand when she tried to move back from him.

  Asilinn wrenched her hand away and refused to meet his eyes. She was half expecting a disciplinary cuff for her impudence but none came. She gazed up at him through a fringe of thick lashes. "I cannot do this, Milord," she said earnestly.

  He shook his head and stared at her. "This is the easy part of what lies ahead. Today we ride through MacLean lands. I expect you to wear your colors. I want everyone to know you are an Innes."

  "You would have me proudly wear my colors over these rags." She tore at the itchy, rumpled clothes he had given her. Asilinn spun and paced the floor feeling his eyes watch her every move. "You ask much and deliver nothing. What you
want doesna matter to me. I want my freedom you—you Highland kidnapper! Nothing less will do." She stamped her foot for emphasis.

  He seemed amused. "Despite your desire otherwise, you will ride with me to Dunbocan and you will wear your colors."

  "The damn clothes itch so badly. No doubt my skin is ruined already."

  "Probably just a few fleas," he said with a grin. "They were the groom's clothes."

  "You think it is funny?"

  "Mayhaps milady would like me to check her glorious body for flea bites?" He ducked in time to avoid the crockery she tossed at his head.

  "Bastard!"

  "Your vocabulary isn't very ladylike," he commented with a leer. "I'm sure 'tis only the circumstance."

  Asilinn looked into his flashing, green eyes and sucked in her breath. There was no escape from him. Her dream had warned her of what was to come. With each mile, she grew closer to ruin. Blinking back her tears, she prepared to meet the day.

  The countryside they rode through was wild and beautiful. Mountainous pasture dotted with sheep and sheer rock outcroppings gave way to magnificent views. Asilinn rather enjoyed her ride in spite of her nagging feeling of doom.

  Soon the small village of Cock Bridge appeared in the valley below them. It seemed nothing more than a small cluster of cottages surrounded by a combination of stone and wood fortifications. They did more to encircle the village than protect it.

  Jared slowed the horse and they started down the winding path into the town. Some peasants were walking along the road. The men shouted a warm welcome then looked bemused when they noticed her in front of him.

  He ignored their curiosity and kept moving until he pulled up in front of a small, stone cottage on the outskirts of the village. Word of their arrival had already sifted back to the villagers and a crowd gathered when they dismounted.

  "I bid you welcome, Laird MacLean," a squat man near the front said bending in a low bow. The man's bald pate was almost reflective as he nodded to Jared in the bright sunlight. Rising, he eyed Asilinn. "Would you be havin' a prisoner with you today?" he inquired. "I'm sure one of the men would volunteer to guard her whilst you eat."

  Jared shook his head negatively. "Lady Asilinn Innes will stay in my company, Thurlow."

  At the mention of her name, a collective gasp emitted from the crowd. Thurlow's eyes widened.

  Jared addressed the gathering. "People of Cock Bridge, you are privileged to be the first village to hear the news. I plan to marry Lady Asilinn and make peace with the Innes clan. Scotland needs all her clans to fight the English, not each other. Laird Innes will not be quick to wage war with my child in his daughter’s belly."

  Asilinn’s stomach lurched. How could she possibly escape this destiny?

  There was a moment of dead silence and then a slender, middle-aged woman in the center of the crowd began to applaud loudly. A cheer rippled through the throng and continued until Jared held his hand up for silence.

  "I appreciate your support. Now do me the honor of helping me find suitable raiment for my future wife."

  Various people pressed forward to tell Jared what they had that might be of use. The woman who had begun the applause walked up to stand beside Asilinn looking her up and down.

  "Laird MacLean, I may have somethin'."

  Asilinn noticed when Jared looked at the woman she cast her eyes down. Her voice quavered when she resumed speaking. "My daughter was to be married nigh a week from Sunday. She wilna have use for her weddin' dress now. The gown would fit yer lady. 'Tis a simple shift but the best the town has to offer."

  "What happened to your daughter?" Jared asked.

  The woman twisted her hands in the apron hanging about her waist. She raised her tear-filled eyes to meet his. "Her betrothed was killed in battle and the poor lass drowned herself in sorrow."

  Jared's jaw tightened and he gave her a sympathetic nod. "I'm sorry for your loss."

  The woman straightened and dabbed her eyes with the hem of her apron. "Thank you, Milord."

  "Are you not Wynne Ainsley, Keith's widow?"

  "Aye, Milord, I'm pleased you remember me," she said with a curtsey.

  "What say you, Asilinn, will you wear the gown?"

  All eyes turned to Asilinn. "I would be pleased to wear the gown," she said. Anything had to be better than this sack of rags she was wearing.

  "Good, Wynne, you will help Lady Asilinn bathe and dress?"

  "Aye, Milord." Wynne started to lead Asilinn toward the stone cottage, but Jared called her back.

  When Asilinn reached his side, he leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I dinna think you need this warning, but I remind you I expect no misbehavior."

  She shot him a stormy look and followed Wynne into the house. Wynne had apparently noticed Asilinn's grimace because she scurried around in uncomfortable silence while she heated water in a large kettle over the fire.

  "You offered much in a difficult situation," Asilinn said, trying to put the woman at ease.

  "'Tis not for you I support Laird Jared. I'm tired of the killin'. Laird Jared is right. We should be fightin’ the English, not each other."

  "You believe Laird MacLean about the peace?"

  "Aye, I believe him, for he has always been as good as his word. If you go against Laird Jared, you shall not last long."

  “Mayhaps he will kill me like his first wife.”

  “If you do what his first wife did, I hope he does.”

  Asilinn's eyebrows arched at the woman's rude retort but she kept silent. Peeling off the rough clothes, she stepped into the crude wooden tub that was to be her bath and sat down in the shallow basin. The warm water felt soothing on her sore body. She picked up a rag and started to wash off the grime of the trip.

  "What'll I do with these?" Wynne asked, gingerly holding up the offending attire.

  "Burn them," Asilinn suggested. Wynne broke into a grin.

  "A good choice, Lass, I canna believe he gave you these to wear."

  "My other clothes were wet and ruined. I suppose it was better than nothing." Asilinn smiled back at Wynne.

  "I'm sorry I was rude to you, Lady Asilinn. I'm sure this was not yer idea. I wager there'll be those who wilna take kindly to our laird's peace plan. He has put you in no small danger with this forced alliance." She paused. "I'll go fetch the gown now."

  Wynne went off humming and returned cradling the treasured garment that was to have been her daughter's bridal gown. "I think it'll fit without much alteration." She held it up for Asilinn to see.

  A light blue kirtle formed the under piece of the garment and it was covered with a cream-colored linen surcoat. Colored threads were stitched in a delicate floral design on the bodice.

  "I'm sure 'tis not like the fine gowns you're used to," Wynne said apologetically. "But 'tis nigh better than what you had." The woman looked down at the dress and shook her head. "I'd forgotten how plain it was."

  "It is very beautiful," Asilinn assured her.

  Wynne flushed with pleasure.

  "Thank you, Milady."

  "Who did this intricate stitching?"

  "'Tis me own handiwork."

  "You're a woman of many talents. Are you alone here?"

  "Aye."

  Wynne handed Asilinn a drying cloth when she stepped from the bath. Her wet hair hung down to her waist. "Laird Jared wilna be of a mind to dally long enough to dry this," Wynne said. "I suggest you let me braid it for you. Tomorrow when you enter the castle, the wave will be set in golden ringlets. We must make you so lovely the people wouldna dare question their laird's choice for a wife. I daresay 'twill not require much work."

  Asilinn agreed and sat wrapped in a blanket while Wynne wove her hair into a series of long braids then interwove those to make a tight knot of golden strands.

  The time had come to try on the gown. Asilinn could tell Wynne was nervous about her reaction. Asilinn slid the kirtle down over her head and Wynne fastened the side laces of the surcoat to a snug fit. "Oh Wynne, 'tis lo
vely," Asilinn declared spinning around with a flare of her skirt.

  The tight, fitted bodice emphasized her tiny waist and eased out into a graceful line when it fell to the floor. She felt refreshed when she went out to join Jared.

  The MacLean scowled when he first caught sight of her. Asilinn wondered what displeased him now. Poor Wynne trembled at his expression.

  The men of the town still lingered in conversation with their laird in the shade of a Mountain Ash. A dozen eyes explored Asilinn when she came to stand beside him.

  "Milord, I warned you it was not good enough," Wynne apologized in a quavering voice.

  Jared's face softened. "Nonsense, it is fine."

  Wynne bowed her head. "Thank you, Milord."

  "Lady Asilinn has need of a maid. I would have you come to Dunbocan in her service."

  The woman knelt and kissed his dirty, leather boot. "I'm honored, Milord." She was near tears at her good fortune.

  Asilinn wondered if any dared say nay to Jared MacLean. At that moment, his gaze shifted to her. "Turn and let me look at you."

  Asilinn hesitated then spun around in front of him.

  "What do you think of the gown?"

  "It is lovely."

  "Fine enough to marry in?"

  "Aye, Milord," she said quickly.

  Jared's gaze flew over her lustfully. "I'm pleased you find it to your liking for our nuptials."

  "Well… I…." What had she just said? He had tricked her.

  Wynne gasped in disbelief. "Oh Lady Asilinn, 'tis not fine enough."

  "Yes it is. Is it not, Asilinn?" Jared grinned while he waited for her response. She had no recourse for the moment.

  "The gown is beautiful."

  "And you will wear it for our wedding?"

  "Aye."

  He was practically leering at her now. Wynne was in shock.

  "Thank you, Milord," Wynne mumbled.

  "Get your things, Wynne. We must away. If Asilinn is to wear your daughter's gown for the wedding, we must find her another traveling garment. I wish to leave in an hour."

  "Aye, Milord." The woman flew off to do his bidding. Asilinn frowned at him and followed Wynne into the cottage.