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Authors: Samantha Holt

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BOOK: Her Highland Defender
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Chapter Sixteen

When the leader—Guy, he learned—returned for him, Blane could only grin foolishly at him. Ceana was alive. They could do anything they liked to him and it didn’t matter. Ceana lived.

The camp was near deserted but apparently the small group of mercenaries thought it worth their time to finish him. While the rest of their men gathered up what goods they could find, Guy and another man turned their attention on him.

“Our king, the honourable and bold Edward, has seen fit to desert us. Now the army is in disarray. What a fine job it is that we are here to ensure nothing of value is left behind.” he grinned at his friend. “And I do believe I promised you a slow and painful death.”

Blane smirked, though the movement sent pain through his mouth. “The Scottish army will be upon ye soon. Then ye’ll know the true meaning of a slow and painful death.”

“They’re too busy chasing down the rest of the men. So ‘tis just you and us.” He grinned and drew out the dagger still encrusted with Blane’s blood. Guy had taken the time to carve a few harmless but painful cuts into his abdomen and no doubt intended to continue on with the task. A little pain didn’t scare Blane.

“Ye should untie me and fight me like a man.”

He smirked. “I’m not a fool and I have little intention of fighting you. Just killing you.”

He brandished the blade and Blane caught the glint of sunlight on his before he swiped it savagely across his face. The cut was superficial but it stung. He hissed out his pain.

This time Guy pressed it to his side. Blane tried to keep his breaths regular but he saw his chest move up and down frantically as the knife dug into his side, releasing a stream of blood. The agony struck quickly and intensely. His vision grew dark around the edges.

His breaths rasped in his ears, the pound of his heart grew intense. He’d intended to close his eyes and picture Ceana but a sound broke through the noise in his skull. Guy turned.

“Damnation.” Guy spun away and withdrew his sword, putting his back to Blane.

It took a moment for Blane to focus on what was happening. Highlanders. Some on horseback. They came swinging at the few Englishmen remaining so quickly that they barely had time to lift their swords. A horse broke through the clash and his heart near jumped into his throat. Ceana sat astride the beast, clinging to its mane. Her hair streamed behind her and she looked utterly free and beautiful in spite of the state of her garments and the bruises on her skin.

She managed to urge the horse to a clumsy stop and dismount with such haste that he feared she’d take a tumble. He glanced to Guy to see he was occupied with the ensuing battle. Ceana strode over and she lifted a dagger.

“I-I can cut ye free,” she said, breathlessly. “B-but I fear cutting ye.”

Blane shook his head. “I trust ye.”

“Aye.” She clasped the dagger and fingered the ropes binding him to the wood. She had the blade dangerously close to his underarm, but he’d been telling the truth, he trusted her. He noted the sweat on her skin and the way she continued to breathe heavily.

“Take a breath, lass. I love ye.”

She nodded and gave the blade a quick tug. He felt the ropes loosen.

“And again,” he urged.

She did so and he gave one hard pull before the ropes rent and he could lower his arms. Ceana flung herself against him and sobbed into his neck. Tears soaked his skin and he couldn’t help but be grateful for them. To feel the proof of her love for him warmed his heart.

He took the blade from her shaking hands and eased her back. The Englishmen were dead—all except Guy. He had eased back toward them and clearly intended to make an escape. Blane confronted him.

Guy lifted his sword. “Move, highlander, or you’ll taste my blade in your gut.”

Blane smirked. Given fair odds, he could defeat this man. He’d already fought him and knew well his movements were that of a well-trained knight. Whereas Blane’s were that of a vicious highlander, born and bred on the battlefield.

Guy made the first move and Blane stepped aside, snatched his wrist and twisted so the sword dropped from his hand. With the dagger in hand, he stepped forward and tore it across his throat. He gasped and his eyes bugged in shock. Blane held him until he saw the life expire from him before pushing him down. Ceana bundled herself back into his side.

An older highlander came forward and eyed them both. “Ceana here says ye protected the keep. It seems I owe ye my thanks.”

This was Ceana’s father. “And I owe ye mine.”

“We are even then.” He glanced at his daughter again.

“I should like to ask one more thing of ye, sir.”

Ceana’s father tightened his posture. “And what would that be?”

“For yer daughter’s hand in marriage.”

Ceana squeezed him tightly while her father’s eyes narrowed. Blane lifted his chin and tried not to swallow. He’d faced Sassenachs and wolves but nothing made his heart hammer quite as much as this moment because not even his own life was more to him than Ceana. Nothing ever would. He’d found something to live for.

 

 

 

Epilogue

“Wildling.”

The words sent a shimmer of excitement down her spine. She turned in the direction of the voice and smiled as a hand came to her cheek. Blane’s palm was chilled but it still sent a delicious swirl of warmth through her.

She heard the rattle of his pin and stomp of boots as he came closer. Iciness radiated from him. The winter had been harsh and she didn’t like the thought of him being out in the snow but Blane would never shirk from his duty to the clan. As her brother and father’s most trusted man, he had become a valuable and highly regarded part of the clan. Of course, no one would feel as she did about him.

Ceana pressed her cheek against his plaid and felt the cold roughness of the wool. “I missed ye.”

“’Twas only a few days.”

His body told her differently. He held her close, as though it had been years instead of days.

“Ye saying ye didnae miss me then?”

“I miss ye always,” Blane murmured in her ear. “I miss ye whenever ye are no’ by my side.”

She smiled when he pressed a kiss to her neck and she heard his inhale. His cheek was rough, and she curved a hand across his jaw. It had been four summers since their marriage and yet she could never tire of simply being held by this fierce warrior—a man who made her feel like so much more than a near-blind woman. Blane had made her a wife and a mother, aye, but he’d given her more courage than she’d ever thought possible. She now had the courage to trust in this man.

“Has Bella been good for ye?”

She nodded. “She is with
mamaidh
in the hall.”

“They are both causing mischief no doubt.”

Ceana laughed. Their daughter and her mother seemed to be kindred spirits. “Aye, of course. Would ye expect anything else?”

“I’d be disappointed if they weren’t.” He smoothed his hands up and down her back and slotted her close. “Och, I missed lying beside ye, wildling.”

“I can tell.” She leaned up to kiss his chin and then his lips, just briefly. She’d been anxious for Blane to return for more than one reason and she couldn’t let him distract her from telling him the news. “Fraser and Kate are set to marry once the snow has cleared.”

“If yer trying to stop me from wanting to take ye to bed in the middle of the day, I can tell ye now, lass, it would take more than a bit of gossip to keep me from dragging ye to our bedchamber and having my way with ye.”

“Aye, I wouldnae expect it to either. Anyway ‘tis nae gossip,” she scolded.

“Oh, aye, I’m happy for them both. I shall bestow my best wishes upon them…after I’m done with ye,” he said, a slight growl in his voice that made her stomach tighten with anticipation.

“Ye cannae take me to bed now. ‘Tis nearly suppertime and ye, my bold warrior, need a bath.”

He let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Ye saying I smell, lass?”

“Ye do indeed.”

“Och yer a demanding lass, are ye no’? Very well, we’ll eat, I’ll bathe, see Bella to bed and then yer no’ leaving our bed for the rest of the night.” Blane brought his mouth to hers but she shifted back.

“I have other news.”

“If there are more marriages happening, I can tell ye now, I have little care to hear about them when I could be kissing ye instead.”

“’Tis nae about marriages.”

“Ceana,” he warned.

She smiled and smoothed her hands down either side of his face before tracing the scowl on his brow. “Dinnae be angered with me. I’ve been hoping to tell ye this news for a while and it has killed me to keep it quiet until I was certain.”

He stilled. Every muscle went tense. She imagined the realisation seeping into his expression. “Ye dinnae mean…”

“Aye, I’m carrying yer bairn, Blane.”

A few heartbeats of silence followed then she was lifted off her feet and twirled around. Ceana laughed when he pressed his face against her neck and held her tight before putting her down. He flattened his forehead to hers and reached between them to feel her stomach. His palm warmed her skin.

“I started feeling sick yesterday,” she explained.

“Another bairn,” he murmured. “What could I have done to deserve this?”

“Everything, Blane. Ye deserve it all.”

“Have ye told yer family yet?”

“Nay, I wanted to tell ye first.”

“I dinnae know what Bella will think of having to share the attention.” Ceana heard the smile in her voice.

“If our daughter is a fiery Scots lass, ‘tis only yerself ye have to blame. Ye spoil her so.”

“Aye, she deserves it. But I think some of that fire comes from her ma.” His stomach growled and he chuckled. “Come, let’s see to our bonnie wee daughter before she gets into any more trouble with yer
mamaidh
and eat.”

“Och, and here I thought ye were to take me to bed.”

“A highlander needs to keep up his strength to please his lass.”

“Come then, let us get ye fed.” Ceana walked through the corridor toward the hall. She could hear her mother’s laughter and a giggle from Arabella. Her heart warmed at the sound of it. Looking after a bairn had not been the easiest of challenges but with Blane’s help and after the things they’d faced together, motherhood had been far less frustrating than she thought it might be. “Bella will be happy yer h—”

The feel of tiny hands and a little body pushing past her followed by a cry of delight cut her off. She heard Blane’s
oof
as their daughter barrelled into him. Against the torchlight behind them, she could just see him scoop her up and hold her tight. Ceana feared her heart might burst with happiness.

“Da,” the child cried.

“Ye shouldnae run up on yer
mamaidh
,” he scolded lightly. “Ye know she cannae see ye properly in here.”

Ceana shook her head. “Yer just excited are ye no’, Bella?” She leaned forward and gave her daughter’s tiny hand a kiss where it clasped Blane’s plaid. “It doesnae matter.”


Seanmhair
says we are having a feast,” Arabella said.

She heard Blane’s groan and her smile expanded. Her mother’s singing was at least pleasant so they had to be grateful for that, even if she did like to make them dance for everyone.

“She says ye must dance while she sings. Ye will dance will ye no’?”

Blane lowered their daughter to the ground and reached for Ceana. “I think that depends on what yer
mamaidh
says.”

“I’ll dance with ye for the rest of my days, Blane Ross.”

He wrapped his fingers around hers and pulled her close to him. “Tell yer
seanmhair
that we shall dance,” he said to their daughter before leading Ceana farther into the hall.

Blane touched her face and moved her into his embrace. Only faint glimmers of gold edged into her sight but she knew her family would be watching them. Her mother started up a slow ancient song of love and they moved together. Ceana could see little but feel everything. Love, contentment, happiness. Here, in Blane’s arms, she had everything she could ever want.

Arabella made a disgusted noise as they kissed and around them applause and a few bawdy comments rang out.

“I love ye, my wildling,” Blane said, coming in for another kiss. “I’ll dance with ye always.”

THE END

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Other Titles

To Steal a Highlander’s Heart

To Dream of a Highlander

To Avenge Her Highland Warrior

The Warrior’s Reward

Knight’s Captive

About the Author

Samantha lives in a small village in England with her twin girls and a Dachshund called Duke. She has been writing for a living for over three years now and enjoys being able to use it as an excuse to wear pyjamas during the day. While the heroes in her books are very much fictional, she likes to draw inspiration from the history around her. Living near several wonderful castles, she can never fail to be inspired.

BOOK: Her Highland Defender
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