Capturing A Highland Knight (4 page)

             
“Yer bed?  ‘Tis nae yer bed.  ‘Tis mine,” he said.

             
“Ye lie!  Ye are in my bedchamber and I demanded that ye leave immediately!” she said pointing toward the door.

             
Derek gave a mirthless laugh.  He had never met any woman who had the defiance he saw in every line of her body.  He lit a few candles so that he could see her clearly. 

             
“’Tis my bedchamber ye are in, lass, and I will stay,” he said coming toward her.

             
Annabelle wavered.  He was stronger than her, and she did not have a weapon to defend herself.  She decided she would show him that he did not frighten her.  She stood her ground, even as his face was inches from hers.

             
Derek studied the strength he saw in her eyes.  She was definitely not like any woman he had ever met, except for his mother.

             
“Look around ye, lass.  Ye will find that this isnae yer bedchamber,” he said with a smirk.  His eyes never leaving her face.

Annabelle reluctantly removed her eyes from his face and looked around the chamber.  She saw a table and chair, a stand with a basin and shaving equipment, the bed was huge and was not the same fur that covered her bed.  Annabelle was even more confused.

Annabelle took a deep breath and looked back at Derek.  She had to remain calm although she felt as if she would have apoplexy.

“How did I get here?” she asked him.

              Derek almost smiled. 

             
“We found ye,” he said simply.

             
“Found me?  What do ye mean?” she asked him more confused than ever.  And more afraid.  What was going on here?

             
“Just what I said.  And now ye are in my bed,” he smiled down at her.

             
“Ye are lying!  What is going on?” she suddenly shouted at him.  She felt light headed, but she fought it. 

             
“Nay, lass.  I amnae.  Ye are in my bedchamber.  We found ye crumpled in a clearing not far from here,” he said calmly.

             
“It canna be!  Why would I be in yer bedchamber?  I am betrothed to another!  I doona ken ye! I have to leave!”

             
She scrambled from the other side of the bed and ran toward the chamber door.  This was a mistake!  She would never do such a thing.  Even though she did not want to marry the man her father had chosen for her, she would not betray him.  She had to go find her maid, Aggie.  This had to be some kind of a trick.  A test.  Yes, a test.  Someone was testing her loyalty.  Had she failed?   She stopped and looked down at the shift she was clad in.  She could not go into the hall like this.  She turned and looked around for more clothing. 

Derek watched her stomp toward the door.  The sway of her hips and the jiggle of her breasts through the thin shift made him remember the intense reaction he had had to her as he loved her.  He felt his groin stirring at the thought.  Her shoulders were stiff and she looked around for something more to put on.  He watched in amusement.

“Here, lass.  Put this on,” he said, handing her one of  his shirts.

She looked at it dubiously, but realizing she had nothing else, she quickly donned it.  It came well past her knees.  She looked delectable.  She turned from him and headed back to the door.

“Where do ye think ye’re going?” he asked, curious despite himself.

She turned and glared at him.  She saw the amusement in his eyes.  He thought this was funny?  She could be compromised, and he thought it was amusing.

“I am so glad ye find this so amusing.  But in case ye did not understand me the first time, I am betrothed, and if what happened here is what I think is what happened, then I am in big trouble,” she said turning again to the door and pulling it open.

Through his semi-ale soaked mind, it suddenly penetrated what she said. He ignored most of her sentence and focused on one point. She was betrothed, not married.  Derek frowned.  She kept saying betrothed.  His head tilted to the side as he watched her looking up and down the hall to make sure no one was about.

“Wait a minute, lass,” he said grabbing her arm.  She snatched it away, but turned to him.

“What is it?” she asked, clearly exasperated.

“Ye are betrothed.  Who are ye betrothed to?”

She sighed and rolled her eyes.  Was that really important?

“Laird Harold of clan McInnis.”

Derek smiled at her.  She did not remember that she was married.  She also did not remember the events that led to her being at Dunkirk.

“Aye, lass,” he agreed.

Annabelle looked at him warily.  Why was he smiling?  Why was he standing there completely naked?  Her eyes traveled
down his body of their own volition.  He was truly magnificent.  He was toned and muscled everywhere, from his shoulders to his powerful thighs.  His manhood lay dormant against his thighs, and judging by the size of it at rest…  She had to squash the tingling in her body at the thought.  Had it been a dream?  She was betrothed to another. She shook her head and went back to searching the hallway.

Derek cleared his throat to get her attention again.

“Again I ask ye, where are ye going?  Ye are at Dunkirk.”

“I am going to find my maid, Aggie.  I’m sure she can clear this all up.  Like why we are here instead of at Kinloch, and what I would be doing in yer bedchamber,” she snarled at him. 

“I am sorry to disappoint ye, lass, but yer maid isnae here,” Derek smirked.

“Isnae here?  Where is she?” Annabelle asked incredulously.

“I doona ken, but here she isnae,” his smiled broadened.

He watched the confusion flit across her face.  Then her eyes flashed with anger.

“Pray, explain,” she said quietly.

Derek fought the urge to laugh.  For some reason, having her demand answers from him was amusing.

“Weel, like I said.  We found ye on our way to Bondlach keep.”

“We?” she asked suspiciously.

“Aye.  Colm and I.  Ye were unconscious in a clearing.”

“Unconscious?”

Derek nodded.

“It seems ye fell from yer horse and bumped yer head on the saddle,” he said.  It was not the whole truth, but it was all he would give her.  Maybe it would be enough to jog her memory.

              Derek realized that he could use her amnesia to his advantage.  Depending on the extent of her memory loss, he could keep her safe.  If she did not remember anything about what happened, it would be easier to protect her until they could bring whoever poisoned the McInnis and MacAlpin clans to justice

             
Annabelle’s eyes watched him.  He had no idea what she was thinking, or if she was beginning to remember what happened to her.  He waited.

             
Annabelle thought about what Derek had just told her.  She had fallen from her horse and bumped her head?  She reached up and felt the bandage on the right side of her head.  That explained the wooziness.  She had gone riding, and her horse, Chestnut, had seemed a little jumpy the last time she had rode her.  Maybe she had lost control and fallen off.  She slowly nodded her head.

             
Derek saw that she accepted his explanation.  He almost sighed with relief.

             
“I’ll leave in the morning for Kinloch, then.  My parents are probably worried sick about me,” she said turning again for the door.

             
“I doona think that is a good idea, lass.  Ye have a gash on yer head that hasnae yet healed completely.  We’ll send word to Kinloch to let them ken that ye are here and safe,” Derek said.

             
Annabelle nodded.  She suddenly felt light-headed.  She leaned against the door jam.

             
“Are ye alright?” Derek asked his voice full of concern.

             
“Aye, I am fine,” Annabelle said.  She put her hand to her head.

“One last question.  Did what I think happened, happen?” she asked before she began crumpling to the floor.

              Derek reached out and caught Annabelle in his arms.  He laid her on the bed.  Her red lips were slightly parted and her hair fanned around her like a halo.  That brought back the memories of the taste of her lips and the softness of her hair in his hands. 

Derek put out the candles he had lit.  He went back to the other side of the bed and lay down on his back.  He could hear Annabelle’s slow even breaths.  Derek looked at the ceiling and thought about all he had learned in his conversation with Annabelle.

She knew who she was, but she did not remember that she had already been married and that her husband had been killed along with others in his clan and hers.  He turned on his side to face her.  He reached out and ran his finger over her cheek.  Her skin was as soft as he remembered.

He turned back to his back.  Although he knew who she was from Broc’s description, he found that he was reluctant to let Broc know that she was there and alive.  He knew that whoever had Laird Harold killed also thought they had killed the laird’s wife.  If they found out otherwise, he was sure that Annabelle would not be safe.

He turned back toward her and gathered her in his arms.  She fit perfectly against his side.  Her warm breath touched his neck.

Now that he had had a taste of her, he found that he was loathed to let her go, but how could he keep her here?  When her wound was fully healed, she would insist that she return to Kinloch and her betrothed.  He would have to come up with a good excuse for her to stay.  Maybe he’ll be able to taste her again before that time.

He rubbed his slightly throbbing temple and buried his face in Annabelle’s hair.  He finally drifted back to sleep.

Chapter 5

              Derek stirred when his bedchamber door open.  He heard what sounded like muffled talking and something being pushed across the floor.  His head throbbed.  He almost did not know where he was.  He heard the voices but they sounded far away.  He reached over and pulled Annabelle more securely in his embrace. 

             
“Put the tub over by the fire, Eilidh.  Magda, stoke the fire to get the last of the chill out of the chamber.  She’ll be wanting a bath when she wakes up and we doona want her freezing to death before she gets in the tub,” he could hear Megan’s voice.

             
The other servants hustled about filling the tub with water and laying out a drying cloth and soap. 

             
Eilidh frowned as she went about her task.  She did not want to do anything for the woman.  Derek hadn’t come to her last night.  She could only guess that he had slept with the men.  They had been up late drinking and talking.

             
“Eilidh, pour that last bucket of water in the tub and I’ll wake the lass,” Megan said hobbling over to the bed.  She snatched the furs back and gave a startled gasp.

             
The other servants turned at the sound and stared at the scene before them.  Eilidh turned from pouring the water in the tub and the bucket dropped from her hands.  She let out a murderous roar and charged to the bed.

             
“Derek MacDougal!  Take yer hands off of her!” she screamed into his ear as she pulled on his arms to remove them from around Annabelle.

             
“So this is why ye dinna come to my bed last night!  Ye
hure
!” Eilidh shouted and grabbed Annabelle by the hair.

             
Annabelle awoke with a start at the noise and her hair being pulled.  She grabbed her assailant’s wrist and squeezed as hard as she could to slacken their grip.  Eventually, the hold slackened and she pulled her hair free.

             
Derek opened his eyes when he felt Eilidh’s hands pulling him and heard her scream in his ear.  The sound was piercing on his already throbbing head.  He scowled at her.  When she reached over and grabbed Annabelle by her hair, he almost lost his temper.  But he saw that Annabelle had it under control.  Derek sat up.  The sudden move was a mistake.  He put his head in his hands until the dizziness abated.

             
“How dare ye?” Annabelle demanded as she lunged at the woman.  She knocked against Derek on her way from the bed.  He groaned.

             
Annabelle pushed the woman into the wall.  She grabbed her hair and twisted it around her hand until she could not twist it anymore.  She put her face right up to the woman’s face.

             
“If ye ever for the rest of yer life do that again, I promise ye will regret it,” she said menacingly.  She saw the fear in the other woman’s eyes.  She smiled in satisfaction.  Annabelle was a few inches taller than the woman.

             
Annabelle yanked the woman’s hair for emphasis and then pushed away from her.  She turned to walk away, when the woman lunged at her from behind.  She turned to defend herself, but at that moment Derek stood up and stood between them.

             
“Enough!” he bellowed.  Derek winced at his own voice.  He vowed right then and there never to drink again.

             
He looked around at the shocked and interested faces of the other women in the room.  Then he looked down at Eilidh.  He could see the jealous rage in her eyes.  He turned his eyes to Annabelle and saw the challenge in hers.  He held back a chuckle.

             
“Derek, what is going on here?” he heard Megan asked from the other side of the bed.

             
He turned toward her, but kept his eye on the women.  He took in the situation.  He grimaced.  All eyes looked at him expectantly, expecting the same answer.  Except the two women still staring at each other.  He looked back at the women and scowled.

             
“Go fetch the priest.  We’ll be married,” he growled, looking down at Annabelle.

             
“What?” both women said in unison.  One was outraged and the other was just in rage.

             
He pulled his shirt off of Annabelle as she stared at him with a dark look and slipped it over his head.  He found his kilt and slipped it back on. 

             
Eilidh’s look was a cold as ice.  He found he did not care.  His head was still pounding and he needed something to soothe it.

             
“Ye canna do this, Derek MacDougal!  I willnae allow it!” Eilidh screamed at him.  She could not believe what was happening.  First, she finds her man in the arms of another woman, and then he decrees that they are getting married.

             
Derek turned a cold gaze on her.  She tried not to flinch, but the look in his eyes stopped her dead in her tracks.

             
“Ye willnae allow it?” he asked softly.

             
She could not answer, but she pushed her chin up in defiance.  She had to let him know how she felt.

             
Annabelle looked between both of them with a mixture of curiosity and anger.  It was apparent that this woman thought that Derek was hers.  Maybe he was.  She could have him, and Annabelle was about to let her know that.

             
“Doona worry about it.  Ye can have him.  I have a betrothed,” Annabelle said with a sweet smile.

             
Derek turned and looked at her.  She smiled at him in triumph.  His eyes darkened.

             
“Is that so, lass?  Weel, how do ye think yer betroth would feel kenning that ye gave yerself to me?” Derek said even sweeter.

             
Annabelle gasped.  Eilidh growled low.  Annabelle ignored her.  It was not a dream?  That wondrous experience had been real?  Then she narrowed her eyes at him, skepticism lurking in their depths.

             
“Ye lie,” she said.

             
Derek smiled slowly.  Annabelle caught herself before she gasped at its beauty.  His straight white teeth gleamed at her.

             
“Nay, lass, I doona.”

             
Eilidh struck him hard across his face.  There was a collective gasp from the other women in the room.  The smile instantly vanished from Derek’s mouth.  His jaw tightened and he grabbed her by her arms and shoved her toward the door.

             
“Leave!  I’ll deal with ye later,” he said forcefully, his voice commanding no argument.

             
Eilidh sent one last vicious look Annabelle’s way before she obeyed his command.

             
“Megan, go fetch the priest,” he repeated.  His gaze strayed back to Annabelle.  She looked stricken.

             
“I willnae marry ye.  I am already betrothed, and I will honor my Da’s wishes,” she said, quietly.

             
Derek said nothing.  How could he tell her that she had no betrothed to marry?

             
“Come, lass.  Let’s get ye in the tub while the water is still hot,” Megan said, gently taking her arms and steering her toward the tub.

             
Annabelle walked with her head down, a frown creasing her brow.  She turned to look at Derek as he strode from the chamber.  What was she going to do?  There must be some way to get out of this mess.

§

              Derek sat down next to Colm at the trestle table.  He dropped his head into his hands, rubbing his temples.

             
“Ye look like I felt,” Colm chuckled, and slapped him on the back.

             
Derek almost punched him in the face.

             
“Here.  Megan made a potion for me, and I had her make ye some too,” he said pushing a tankard toward Derek.

             
Derek grunted and pulled the tankard to him.  He took a long drink and grimaced.

             
“I think Megan is trying to kill us,” he mumbled, but he finished the drink.

             
“Aye,” Colm agreed, downing the rest of his own. 

             
“What was all of the commotion above stairs?  I would have come up, but what noise I could hear had my head pounding,” Colm said.  He looked at Derek expectantly.

             
Derek did not answer at first.  He noticed that his headache was lessening. 

             
“Sounded like I heard Eilidh’s voice, but I dinna recognize the other voice.”

             
“’Twas our lass, Annabelle,” he grumbled.

             
Colm’s brow drew together in confusion.

             
“She is awake?  Megan said that she hadnae awakened yet.”

             
“Aye, she is awake,” Derek evaded.

             
“Weel, what were they arguing about?”

             
Derek did not answer.  He looked at his friend and saw the curiosity in his gaze.

             
“It seems that I dinna make it to Eilidh’s bed last night,” he said, spinning the tankard in his hand.

             
“What?  Where…?” Colm’s brow darkened as comprehension dawned on him.

             
Derek looked up and saw the anger in his friend’s eyes.  He was curious about it for a moment, but then he was irritated.

             
“Aye, I ended up in my own bed last night.  As soon as Megan fetches the priest, I will marry our Annabelle,” he growled.  He did not feel he owed Colm any explanation, but he would learn of it anyway.

             
Colm did not move or say anything for a long while.  He finally stood up and left the hall.  Derek watched his friend leave.