Highlander's Lionheart (Beasts 0f The Highlands Book 1)

by Alisa Adams

  “Aye, small woman, I can,” Lian growled at her.

  Ina was about to say something back to him when Gordon nudged his horse backward. “Riders! Move back into the cover of the forest, quickly!” he commanded.

  They all quickly backed their horses up into the thicker branches of the pines and brush. Staying as still as possible, hardly breathing as two riders galloped across the open green field below them. They could tell they were a hunting party as they had some game tied to their saddles. The riders went straight into the courtyard.

  “We need to go back into the forest a way, make camp, and come back on foot to watch,” Gordon said as he turned his horse to head back, deeper into the darkness of the forest.

  The others began to follow him, but Godet touched his arm, shaking her head and motioned him in another direction. She led the way through a part of the forest that had looked impassable with so many rocks and giant boulders. At one point they all had to get off their horses and lead them through a narrow channel in some rocks and thick trees. It suddenly opened into a pool of water surrounded by rocks and a waterfall. There was a thick canopy of trees overhead as well as the rocks above them where the water fell from. Gordon looked over at her and smiled.

  “’Tis a safer place to make a fire and there is fish in the water. No one knows of this place but me sisters and I,” she explained with a smile at him.

  “And not any easy access to get here,” Gordon added admiringly as he looked around. “There is only one way in and one way out.” He looked back at her. Noting how the silver of her eyes seemed to pick up the crystal clearness of the water in the pool.

  They made a small camp for the night. In the morning, Gordon gave orders to his men to scout the woods to the north and west of the castle, watching for any guards on that side of Fionnaghall.

  “Liam, choose three men, I need them near that entrance. I want the number of men Mungan has and send a man to find out who is in those crofter’s cottages. Look at the plaids they are wearing. That will tell ye if they are Mungan’s men or Ross men that are still loyal to Godet and her sisters. Robbie, select some of yer men to go find where the other men and soldiers scattered when they left Fionnaghall, those that did not follow ye into the Bogle Wood that is. Tell them they are needed.”

  The men all nodded their heads at their Laird.

  “Remember, lay low. I need numbers. We need to know how many we are dealing with,” Gordon said firmly.

  “I want to get down to that beach and into those caves,” Tristan stated. “That may be our best chance of getting into Fionnaghall undetected.”

  “Tristan, ye cannae!” said Ceena, grabbing his arm. “’Tis far too dangerous!”

  “Worried about me are ye?” Tristan grinned down at her. Ceena huffed at him and crossed her arms across her chest.

  “He is right, Ceena,” Gordon said. “The cave passages are our best chance of getting in quietly.”

  “Ye willnae find yer way,” Godet stepped forward, “I am the only one that knows the sea cave passages. I will go with him. He has no idea of the tides or the markings on the walls and what they mean,” Godet said firmly.

  “Ye will stay here,” Gordon commanded.

  “No. I willnae. Ceena is right. ‘Tis foolishness and risking death to try those caves without knowing the way,” Godet argued stepping up to him and staring fiercely into his face.

  “I’ll not have ye walking back into the very place ye had to escape from,” Gordon retorted, stepping in close to her, almost nose to nose, with his hands on his hips.

  “Gordon, she knows those caves, better than any of us,” Ceena added quietly. “She is the only one that can get in.” Ceena paused. “And I can get into those passages at the back of the castle. I can see if they are still open.”

  Gordon stared at Godet. Godet bit her bottom lip, worrying it as she looked at Ceena. Ceena held her breath watching the play of emotions cross her sister’s face and Gordon’s reaction to them.

  “Go, Ceena, take some of the Ross men with ye,” Gordon said, ignoring Tristan who started to say something.

  “And I will go to the sea cave passages,” Godet said, “I’ll be careful Gordon, ye know I will.”

  “I know ye will because I am going with ye.” He turned around to face Tristan before Godet could say anything. “Tristan, keep watch at the edge of the woods. I want to know everything that is going on down there and everyone who comes in or out of Fionnaghall.”

  “Gordon, let me go with Ceena,” Tristan begged fervently. “Ye can’t send her off with those men,” he added urgently.

  “They are our men Tristan,” Godet said to him with some confusion, studying his face. “They are Ross’.”

  Tristan continued to look at Gordon. “Ye would not let Godet go off without ye, dinnae let Ceena go without me!” Tristan implored Gordon, ignoring Godets comment.

  “Am I missing something?” Godet asked, her eyes going back and forth between the two brothers.

  They both stared at her. Tristan’s jaw tightened. Godet looked at Tristan, noting his tight jaw, the fear and worry in his eyes. “Och, I think I see.” Her voice softened as she looked intently at Tristan, “She is a warrior, Tristan. She is not ready for ye or any man. Ye cannae own her, she is as free as the breezes off the cliffs of Fionnaghall. She’ll fight ye if ye try to contain her or force her to come to ye,” Godet told him softly.

  Gordon put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Go. See that she is safe at the very least. Ease yer fears,” he said in a low voice. “But come back with information.”

  As they watched everyone move off to follow their Laird’s commands, they noticed that Ina was with Liam and Robbie. Godet heaved a great sigh. “Sards!’ she cursed under her breath then clamped a hand over her mouth. “I sound like Ceena with that language,” she mumbled. Gordon grinned down at her, chuckling.

  Godet frowned up at him, “Oh ye, ‘tis not funny!”

  Gordon grabbed her elbows and held her there, close to him. He stared down into those amazing silver-gray eyes for what seemed like an eternity as she stood still, looking right back at him. “I was not laughing at ye lass, but only with the joy of ye, mo ghraidh,” he told her softly, his voice deepening.

  “I am not yer love. Ye belong to another,” she protested, pushing against his chest. It was like pushing against the rock cliffs of Fionnaghall.

  “Godet,” he whispered, “ye are mo ghraidh.”

  “No Gordon, please let me go,” she whispered tearfully.

  “Why the tears, Godet?” he asked tenderly as his voice deepened and quieted even more.

  “If I give in to ye, ‘twill destroy me and shame me. Though the angels know that I am weak and want my heart’s desire, I cannae. Ye must know this,” she whispered looking up into his eyes. “We must be thinking of Flori now. ‘Tis her I worry for. We need to go, soon, the tide should be going out now.”

  Gordon lowered his lips to her forehead and kissed her chastely there, closing his eyes and just holding her lightly with his lips against her forehead. He felt her lean into him and sigh, her fingers clutching his shirt.

  “Och! Ina! I need to call her back here,” she remembered, leaning back and pulling away.

  Gordon grunted. “Dinnae ye worry. Liam will die for that little one.”

  “Och, another after one of me sisters? She’s too young Gordon! Liam is fierce and angry and she’s all light and fairy tales. And he’ll have to fight Robbie for her. Poor Robbie has mooned after Ina his whole life it seems. Besides, I don’t want Liam to be put in a position to have to die for her or anyone!” Godet declared with worry. “She’s too young Gordon,” she repeated again softly, shaking her head.

  “Aye, I understand. But once again, she knows Fionnaghall better than Liam. She could be of help to him.” Gordon paused. “As to her age, I believe he’ll wait for her, as long as it takes. He has chosen her. Be prepared that Highlanders will not give up the woman they have chosen.”

&nb
sp; It was Godet’s turn to grunt as she pushed back and out of his arms. “We need to go while the tide is out,” she said to him. She was not happy that all of her sisters were walking back into Mungan’s hands. She wanted to get inside to Flori first.

  Gordon sighed, already missing the absence of her closeness and her lightly floral, feminine scent. “First, I need ye to tell me how we get down to the sea caves without being seen,” he said. He was thinking that she had already helped him—helped him to realize what a mistake it had been letting the elders talk him into an alliance with the MacKenzie clan through a betrothal to Brigda.

  16

  Gordon and Godet made their way through the woods behind Fionnaghall and wound their way down the steep hillside to the beach. Gordon had to admit he had a hard time keeping up with Godet. She was born to this place, born to the hills and cliffs that looked over the sea. The wind played with her dark curls as she led him down the steep, curving, and treacherously narrow paths to the beach. Her skirts and hair were being blown about her by the ocean breeze as if it were happy to see her again as it danced playfully around her.

  “The tide is fully out, lucky for us,” she called back to him as quietly as possible. “Still, ye should stay close to the rocks against the cliffs,” she added, looking back at him with her sunlit silver eyes.

  Gordon was so busy staring at her that he stumbled on the path on a loose rock.

  “Gordon!” she hissed loudly. “Be careful. It’s a long way down dinnae ye know!”

  Gordon frowned fiercely at her. She had laughed when she said that. She was teasing him! He was disgusted with himself. He had climbed up and down mountains, fought many a battle, but now, he had just stumbled on a rock on a path because he had been distracted by a beautiful woman’s eyes.

  “Luckily I can swim,” he whispered just as quietly back to her.

  “Ye cannae swim in the sand, the tides out, silly mon! ‘Tis the hard, sandy beach ye’d be falling down on. And dinnae look down. Take me word for it!”

  He grunted. “Godet, ye be careful.”

  “We’re almost there,” she called back to him. He let out a grunt in response as she smiled back at him.

  Finally, they reached the beach. Gordon looked back up to the top of the cliff-side that they had wound their way down. Then he looked around the hidden private beach they had come to. It was beautiful, stunning in fact, and surrounded on three sides by steep and craggy rocks. It was only open to the sea. Then he sobered. He could see how dangerous this would be at high tide—deadly in fact. He studied the rock face of the cliff.

  “I dinnae see any caves, Godet,” Gordon said doubtfully. When she didn’t answer he looked over to where she sat in the sand, pulling off her ankle booties and wiggling out of her hose. He swallowed tightly. She had the most feminine feet and ankles. They were delicate and creamy with slender ankles and the slightest hint of a lovely curved calf that disappeared under her skirts.

  “Take yer boots off why don’t ye? Ye’ll need to for the cave anyway.” She dug her toes in the sand, “There isnae anything like the feel of warm sand between yer toes,” she said. “Dinnae worry, no one can see us from up there.”

  He sat down and pulled his tall, heavy, leather boots and woolen socks off. Digging his toes into the sand warmed by the sun, he had to stifle a groan at the wonderful feel of it.

  It was Godet’s turn to stare now. Gordon’s calves were pure muscle. Her eyes traveled up and she caught a glimpse of brawny, big thighs under his kilt as he wrestled his boot off. The groan he let out when he dug his feet into the sand was deep and animalistic. It set butterflies loose in her stomach.

  Gordon stood up and stopped, staring at her. Godet sat there on the sand, looking up at him with wonder in her eyes. His eyes traveled down those long, feminine legs of hers with beautiful and strong curves from years of riding and, he suspected, also from cliff climbing.

  His beautiful fierce warrior was staring up at him as if she had never seen him before. He walked slowly over to her. He knew full well the ocean breeze was blowing his kilt open, just enough. He knew she was getting her first good glimpse of a man’s thigh. He reveled in her reaction, watching as her eyes widened as he moved slowly, surely closer. His eyes never leaving hers. He stalked her like a wolf stalks a tender doe.

  She stood up quickly, her throat working as she swallowed, still staring at him wide-eyed, though now with a hunger he recognized and met. Her glorious hair was a mass of black twirling tendrils and curls that was blowing around her head and down past her shoulders to her hips.

  Gordon let his eyes rove down Godet’s body, watching as the winds blowing in off the shore whipped her skirts tightly around her legs. Those legs that were perfection in feminine form: long, lithe, tightly curved, and muscled yet still graceful. She had thighs curving up to taut, rounded buttocks. His eyes traveled back up to her snugly fitted bodice. Her breasts were heaving. He looked up quickly to her eyes and saw the change to panic there. He knew she was battling her emotions and was about to flee, whether it was from him or her own feelings he did not know. But he stopped and stepped back.

  “We should go into the cave,” Godet said haltingly. Her bright silver-gray eyes were still wide as they stared at him. “We must get to Flori, remember?”

  Gordon paused, willing his heart rate (and other parts of his body) to calm down. “Lead the way,” he answered her, unable to help the deep, guttural sound of his voice. He cleared his throat and waved his arm to the side. “I will follow ye, lassie.” He thought his voice sounded more normal, though his inner voice said, I will follow ye anywhere…

  Godet instantly took that opportunity to spin around and head toward the cliff face at the end of the beach. She was barefooted but carried her boots. Gordon did the same, walking behind her, looking up the rock face. He saw that she was right: anyone looking down would not be able to see them as there was another rock ledge halfway down the cliff face that jutted out and upward that would block someone’s view from above once you were halfway up the beach.

  He scanned the cliff wall they were heading toward. He didn’t see any caves, just craggy rock. But as they got closer there were more and more rocks on the beach. The rocks got larger and larger until he saw that the cliff wall was made up of jumbles of rocks that looked like they had been pushed there by the ocean’s waves at high tide. Or perhaps the constant waves just battered the cliff wall and broke it up in places leaving pieces scattered here and there like a child with his toys. Sure enough, Godet walked behind one and promptly disappeared. Gordon strode forward to see where it was that she went, not wanting to miss any entrance to a cave.

  “Godet,” he whispered as loud as he could, not wanting to shout this close to the cliff wall.

  An arm poked out from the wall and Gordon walked toward it to see a slight opening between two rocks jutting out one in front of the other. You would miss it from straight on or as you walked past it; it was that well-hidden. He squeezed into the space and bumped into her.

  “Hold on, I’ll light a torch,” came Godet’s voice in the darkness. “I always left one way up high there on the cave wall…” she said, pointing up. He could tell she was reaching above them, moving her hand along the wall. “If there haven’t been any storms bringing the tide up to the ceiling it should still be there, I’m hoping. Sometimes it gets washed away…”

  Gordon watched as she gracefully went from rock to rock, making her way up the cave wall, going to the very top where it met the ceiling. His eyes were adjusting to the dimness. With just small shafts of light coming through the small opening in the rocks they had come through, he could begin to see the confines of the cave they were in.

  “Aw, here ‘tis. There is a striker here with it. Can ye take it?” She handed it down to Gordon and he kneeled on the sand floor, using the flint to strike an ember onto the grease torch. It caught quickly after only a few strikes. He held up the torch and watched as Godet climbed down the wall with ease. Then he shone
it around the small cave they were in. It was a simple, bare chamber cut out of the cliff wall by the action of the waves. He saw what looked like other tunnels branching off of this cave and looked at Godet questioningly.

  Godet smiled grimly at him. “Aye, ye see now? Many choices but not all are correct. Keep yer heid and follow me.”

  She went toward the back, but instead of taking one of the tunnels that led immediately out of the cave, she climbed another ledge, and placing her boots carefully to the side, she disappeared into a tunnel set higher up the wall. He stared after her, hesitating. He hated that he was hesitating, but watching her disappear into the dark hole that, in truth, he had no desire to crawl into gave him a chill. He could hear Ina’s dramatic voice telling of the waves at high tide trapping you in the cave, pushing you into the tunnels.

  Godet poked her head out, bringing him out of his morbid thoughts. “I could use the light! Come on, dinnae be dithering, Gordon,” she called down to him.

  He did not miss the look of urgency on her face. Gordon moved up the rocks, placed his boots beside hers, and slowly went into the hole. Within a few steps, it opened up so that they could both stand up. He blew out a breath of relief.

  “I cannae imagine how ye found this tunnel or how old ye were or who thought it was safe for a little girl to be exploring sea caves in the first place,” he said. Gordon was trying to control his fear for Godet, picturing her as the young feisty girl she must have been, that had grown into the fierce, protective warrior she now was.

  She stood there with her mouth open, studying him. “Are ye angry?” she asked astounded.

  “Aye, ye could have died exploring these caves!” he said in a near shout.

  “I wasnae a little girl,” she said quietly, not looking at him.