by Cathy MacRae
Wanting to change the subject and lighten the mood, Anna rose. She took a dagger and carved a rough circle at head height on a large nearby tree, with a smaller circle in the center. Uncoiling the rope dart around her waist, she began a demonstration. Anna explained its use, repeatedly hitting the target. She then put it away and showed them the throwing knife she kept hidden in her bracers, along with the steel throwing spikes.
When Duncan saw the spikes, he smiled and shook his head. Anna knew he recognized yet another weapon she’d held in her possession while captive. She quickly launched them into the target on the tree. “How about a friendly bout of knife throwing? The winner gets their pick of the watch.” Anna turned to Duncan for his permission. His smile-dimpled cheeks said yes.
The men greeted the challenge with enthusiasm. Each lined up for a turn, placing bets on the outcome. Having not seen a knife like hers before, each wanted a chance to use it.
Duncan slipped behind her and whispered in her ear. “These spikes, ye used them to open the lock on yer cell?”
She kissed him on the cheek. “You catch on quickly, sir.”
He chuckled. “What other weapons were hidden on ye?”
Anna gave him a sly grin. “I shall never tell—in case you get the foolish notion to imprison me again.”
His smile faded. “’Twas never my idea to imprison ye in the first place.”
She had always wondered about this, but knew not what to say, so she turned back to the contest.
Liam was declared the winner. Darkness had fallen, and watches were assigned. Iain approached Duncan and Anna, a pained expression on his face, and motioned for them to follow him outside earshot of the others.
“I wish to apologize to both ye and Anna for my disrespect earlier.”
Duncan offered his hand and Iain hesitantly took it. “Fear not, my friend.” Duncan said. “My reaction was much like yer own. I argued off and on for days with the laird, trying to understand his wisdom. Though I did not agree with him at the time, I have come to realize I would have done something similar, though with better accommodations.” Duncan glanced at Anna for her response.
“’Tis in the past, Iain, and it does not serve to dwell on it. Things have changed considerably. Whilst I thank you for your concern, let us not reflect on it further.” Anna patted his arm and offered a smile.
Mollified, Iain took the first watch.
Anna faced Duncan. “You argued with your father for days about how he treated me?”
He gazed at her intently. “Aye, though argued might be too polite a word. I have never been so angry at my da in all my life. I railed at him. Looking back, I am surprised he dinnae do me harm.”
She was taken aback by the emotion in his voice. “Why would you, for a stranger?”
He grabbed her with such force the surprise of it stole her breath.
Whispering near her ear, he said, “I have loved ye from the moment I saw ye, though I dinna know it at the time. I suspect the only reason Da gave me leeway was because he recognized how I felt about ye long before I did. Anna, I love ye and cannae imagine going a single day without ye with me. I want ye to be my wife, and the mother of my bairns. I have withheld the strength of my feelings, hoping to earn yer trust and heart. I am prepared to give ye as much time as ye need, but know I am willing to do anything to have ye belong to me.”
The power of his declaration stunned her. Anna had sensed he felt strongly, but did not understand the depth of his feeling, nor when it had begun. She recalled his words to the barbarian, Angus, about her being his future wife if she would have him.
His words flowed over her like the warmth of the sun as they melted away her lingering doubts. As the words wife and mother settled, she discovered they did not conjure fear and loathing as before. Coming from this man, they inspired a sense of peace and rightness. As she reveled in his love, his hold loosened and she realized the time for her to respond had passed.
Gripping him around the waist, Anna pulled him back into her with as much force as she could muster.
“Do not pull away from me, Duncan MacGregor—ever. I have never looked at another man as I do you.” Taking a breath, she continued. “You know this is all new to me. I know not my own heart well, but do know I love you with a fierceness that frightens me.”
Duncan’s eyes glittered. Anna eased her grip.
“The thought of marrying and having children was always the worst future I could imagine, because I knew it would be to a man I would not want, one who would not truly want me. I do wish to be your wife, and mother to our children. Howbeit, you need to understand what you ask, because I am not like your mother or sister. I am a warrior, and will continue to be after I become your wife and bear our children.”
He shuddered at her words, and she wondered why.
Duncan thought he’d pushed too hard, scaring her into retreat. He inwardly cursed his stupidity. He needed to move away, give her space, but she surprised him by grabbing and drawing him roughly to her. Her threat to him about not pulling away ever, brought a smile to his face he was certain would never leave. Then he heard the sweetest words to ever reach his ears. She loved him so much it frightened her. Her confession put him in such a state of elation he shook.
But her next words doused his joy like tossing it into a loch in the dead of winter. I will always be a warrior. Duncan immediately heard his da’s words echo in his head. I think there is not much the lass cannae do. She could very well be yer greatest joy, and yer greatest frustration. She willnae submit to any man easily. Ye might have an easier time fighting dragons.
The calm part of him reminded him this was still a hunt. Though much was accomplished between them tonight, there was plenty yet to fathom, to untangle. Wisdom advised him to savor her love, to continue to nurture the trust they had developed and save future battles for the days ahead. Let the fact she reflected the same love and passion be enough—for now.
“Ye cannae possibly know how happy yer words make me, my love.”
Anna drew back. “All of them?” The familiar rumbling in his chest returned, as he laughed at her question, lighting the flame within.
“We dinnae have to decide our entire future tonight. I am more than content to know ye love me as I love ye, and recognize we belong together. The rest we will negotiate as we go, aye?”
She smiled, spotting the evasive tactic as he spoke it. He was right, there would be plenty of time to work out their relationship. He now knew she would not become a submissive lady of the keep if they wed. A sudden thought leapt to her mind. She needed to make sure there were no misunderstandings.
“Duncan, I was brought up in the church. I am aware of the differences between Scottish and English traditions. I will not agree to merely a handfast. If we join, ’twill be a permanent marriage, agreed?”
The warmth of his smile allayed her fears. “’Twould be an insult to offer such to ye, my heart. When we marry, ’twill be in the kirk, in front of God and our clan for life. I will be faithful and committed to only ye. Ye have my word. Besides, I have no intention of giving ye an opportunity to leave me.”
Anna grabbed his shirt and smiled. “I match your pledge of fidelity with my own. You should know I would maim any woman who tried to come between us.” She rose on her toes to kiss him. “I am not a biddable woman, Duncan MacGregor.”
“’Tis one of the reasons I love ye.”
This kiss started like others they shared, but quickly became more. It was as if he had earlier held back both his words and expressions of love. His kiss claimed, possessed and branded her as his. Anna backed him away from the camp, out of sight of the men. Her hands found their way under his leine and struggled to take it off. She assailed his mouth with hers, taking what she wanted, what she needed. He gripped her wrists and broke off their kiss.
“We cannae. If we continue, I willnae be able to stop. I wish to protect yer virtue until our wedding night.” His voice darkened.
“I did not mean—
I am sorry,” Anna murmured, shocked at her wanton behavior.
“Dinnae apologize. One of the greatest gifts a woman can give her man is to match him passion for passion. ’Tis too soon to release it, but I dinnae want ye to have the misunderstanding I wish anything less than the fire ye demonstrate when we are alone.”
Once again, his words soothed her fears, helping her regain her confidence. “You know not what you ask for. After we are wed, I fully intend to burn you night after night with the very fire you speak of.”
He spun her about, embracing her from behind.
“Do I have permission to announce our betrothal?” he breathed into her ear.
She leaned into him, feeling his arousal prodding her bottom.
“If you do, Duncan MacGregor, there is no turning back.”
“Ye have no idea how I have longed to hear ye say those words.” He kissed her on the cheek and led her back to camp. “I must warn ye, the men will refer to ye as ‘Lady’ again, now we are to be wed.”
Her head giddily in the clouds, she chose to ignore this information. As they approached the camp, the men glanced their way, trying not to stare. Duncan squeezed her hand, and a thrill skittered up her arm, across her chest and into her heart. He waited. One by one, he captured the gaze of each man. When he had their full attention, he stepped forward.
“I declare my betrothal to Anna of the clans Elliot and MacGregor.”
The men surged around them, slapping Duncan on the back and voicing their congratulations. After a round of teasing for Duncan and well-wishes for Anna, the men faded away to their posts.
Setting their pallets next to each other, Anna lay in Duncan’s arms and tried to rest. Too excited to sleep, she played with Trean until he tired and curled against her. She lay quietly, listening to Duncan’s even breathing. At last she dozed, but woke when he rose for his turn at watch. When she followed him, he tried to convince her to stay, but she would not be dissuaded.
He sat on the ground against a tree, her back against his chest, his hands caressing her scalp, neck and shoulders. They listened to the sounds of early morning in the forest. Though they spoke no words, something mystical passed between them in the quiet.
Time flew by, and as they made their way back to camp, she could not resist the urge to tease. “If you were pledged to a gentle woman, you would not have her company during your watch, nor would you have a second pair of trained ears and eyes to rely on.”
He captured her around her waist, dragging her back to him. “Och, nor would I be fighting my body to behave when I should be watching and listening.”
“Oh yes you would, though instead of having me near, your thoughts would be of me in our bed.”
She earned a chuckle and a squeeze before he released her. Fingers entwined, they entered camp where Iain prodded the cook fire.
Using pears purchased at the Graham village and honey from their own supplies, Anna made a batch of oatcakes for breakfast. The men quickly dispatched them, and at dawn they were on their way. Trean was still sleepy, so she put him in the wagon.
Clouds threatened rain, and a chill hung in the air. Anna shivered, thankful for the wool they’d purchased. She looked forward to seeing the whole of their inventory once they arrived back home. Home. They were almost home.
Chapter 18
By midmorning, a light rain fell on the MacGregor party, the sky the dull gray of tarnished metal. The men seemed oblivious to the damp inconvenience, but Anna was glad for Trean’s small, warm form tucked against her once again beneath her plaide. She draped her oiled cloth over them and found some relief from the rain as they wound along the edge of the forest. Their track followed close to the river, the trees thick on one side, the river on the other.
A prickling sensation darted up the back of Anna’s neck, alerting her to the presence of others. Noticing the tense line of Duncan’s body, she knew he sensed the same. Pushing Trean into a saddlebag, Anna loosened the ties on her bow strapped to Orion’s saddle.
A crossbow bolt struck Duncan in the thigh. He grunted and stared blankly at the feathered shaft.
“In the trees to the northwest!” Anna cried. Quickly drawing her bow, she struck the first man she spotted.
A second bolt struck Duncan, this time in the shoulder, spinning him in the saddle from the force. Kneeing Orion between Duncan and the attackers, Anna sent another arrow into an enemy.
With a shout, Liam and Ross stopped the carts. Donnan and Rory fired their crossbows, hitting another of their unknown foes. The man pitched from a tree to the ground, writhing in pain. Iain and Malcolm lowered Duncan from his horse and set him on his feet beside the cart. Steel scraped against leather as they drew swords to protect their captain.
Turning Orion to make another pass at the concealed men, Anna found another target, and he, too, fell under her bow.
A shout sounded from the trees. “Dinnae attack the woman, she is worth double unharmed.”
Shock nearly doubled her as she realized she was the reason for the attack, the reason Duncan fell injured. She rode between the wagons and their attackers, scanning for a target. More than a dozen men broke from cover. They ran toward the wagons, swords and axes drawn. She felled the first one with an arrow. Rory and Donnan fired another volley from their crossbows, killing two more.
Re-slinging her bow, Anna stripped the saddlebags from Orion’s rump and slid them beneath the nearest wagon seat. She quickly drew her swords and kneed her horse forward, charging the oncoming attackers. Two more men met their death as she struck them down with a slash of her blades.
“Bluidy hell, woman, get back here!” Duncan bellowed from across the field.
Ignoring his command, Anna scanned the area for bowmen. Finding none, she wheeled Orion around and raced to the group now attacking the wagons. With a start, she recognized Alain leading the charge. It was his voice shouting orders! Though the attackers’ numbers were reduced, ten to their eight, Duncan was in no condition to fight. He barely remained upright, sword in hand as he fended off an attacker.
Dropping from Orion’s back, Anna flanked the enemy. She evened the odds by cutting down one of the two men engaging Liam. The bulk of the group crowded Iain and Malcolm, who still protected Duncan.
Sheathing a sword, she threw her knife, piercing the back of the man closest to Iain, leaving him two to deal with. She then cast her steel spikes into the next two men, wounding them, which allowed Ross the opportunity to finish one, Malcolm the other. Iain slew another. Anna redrew her sword and took her place at Duncan’s side.
“Alain!” Anna yelled.
He faced her. She’d forgotten how large he was, but things had changed. No longer an unarmed prisoner under his watch, she stood ready for the confrontation. Behind her, a high-pitched growl and yip told her Trean had slipped from his bag. She put him from her mind and considered the man before her.
He wielded a lochaber axe, the hook winking evilly at her from the end of the heavy blade. She sheathed her swords and swiftly uncoiled her rope dart. With his longer weapon, she could not let him get too close. As she began her dance, Alain’s sneering contempt changed to confusion. He made ready to charge, but stuttered, hesitating at the distracting buzz of the red cloth cutting through the air as she brought the swinging blade close to him.
She wrapped the line around her shoulders and arms, shortening its reach, and he restarted his charge. With a sharp jerk, she propelled the dart forward, embedding it deep in his thigh. Yanking hard on the rope, she dislodged the blade, sending him staggering. She swung the dart around, back and forth. The last two surviving men in his company fled, leaving him behind. Alain growled.
“Why, Alain? Why have you attacked?” she demanded.
He spat on the ground. “Because MacGregor chose an English bitch over the loyalty of a clansman!”
“Ye great fool, she was a guest at our table, under my father’s protection!” Duncan snarled. Iain and Malcolm advanced. A volley of yips burst through the t
ableau.
“No! He is mine!” Anna shouted. The men halted, hands flexing on their weapons. She gave her attention to the oaf before her. “That does not explain it all, Alain. You had a score of men with you. This is larger than your petty vengeance against MacGregor. I heard you cry out I am worth more alive than dead. To whom?”
He limped toward her, blood flowing freely from the wound in his leg. He tracked the red flag as it hummed its unceasing path through the air. “Ye will find out soon enough. Though I may not live to see ye to yer new home and husband, I have nae doubt others will be sent to finish the task.”
Anna kicked the blade toward his heart, a killing blow. Not quick enough to deflect it with his heavy axe, Alain moved to avoid her weapon. Her blade missed its mark, opening a gash on his upper arm. Twirling and wrapping the rope around her, she kept him at bay, shooting the blade out unpredictably. Within a few moments, he stopped advancing. Bleeding from a multitude of wounds, he seemed to no longer possess the strength to charge. Holding his axe in front of him with both hands, Alain struggled to evade her weapon.
She launched her dart toward him, centerline. As expected, he deflected it with the handle of his axe. Quickly spinning the handle, he trapped her rope between his long axe head and handle. Another two turns secured her weapon to his axe. Anna allowed herself to be pulled toward him.
Using the momentum he provided, she spun around and drew her swords. He dropped his now-tangled axe, drawing a long bladed dirk. Before he could reach her, she completed her spin and drove both swords into his chest.
Anna lingered only a moment before racing to Duncan’s side. Though still conscious, he had lost a lot of blood—too much. Quickly assessing the others, she discovered Liam had a deep gash on his thigh, and Rory a gash across his chest. Ross bled from a number of small head and leg wounds. Iain and Malcolm, though nicked up, remained mostly uninjured.