Highland Jewel (Highland Brides) (36 page)

"Then I shall have to prove you wrong," she said, and, gripping his shirt, pulled herself closer to kiss him.

"Lass." His breath came hard as he struggled for control. "Ye know I canna resist ye."

"I hope not."

"Then let me go before I hurt ye."

"Leith," she entreated, but he pulled easily from her grasp and straightened with a scowl.

"Are ye certain ye were ever in a convent?"

"Aye." She nodded grumpily. "And for far too long. Come here."

Nay, lass. I am concerned for yer well-being even if ye are na. And therefore I willna touch ye until ye are hale."

Their gazes caught again. But in a moment she grinned and shrugged. "We shall see."

Leith narrowed his eyes. "Why do ye smile?"

"No reason." Rose shifted her gaze to the windowsill where Silken watched her with his golden stare.

"Ye think to seduce me," Leith guessed.

"I beg your pardon," gasped Rose, trying to sound offended.

"Dunna deny it. Ye plan to seduce me."

"I am shocked," she said, feeling disgruntled, and wishing he would move closer to the bed so that she could reach him again.

"But yer na going to, lass," Leith warned, "for until ye are healed I will sleep in the next room."

"You're being stubborn."

"Aye. Stubborn I am. But I ken me weakness." He watched her carefully, his russet eyes warm. "And ye, lass, are me weakness."

For just a moment longer their eyes held, and then he rose and strode to the hallway and beyond.

Chapter 28

Evil! Rose felt it! Tasted it! So near. Coming closer, suffocating her! She tried to run, to escape, but darkness held her immobile.

"No!" she whimpered, lifting an arm to ward off death, and suddenly the blackness of sleep was swept away.

It was a dream! She sat bolt upright, breathing hard and staring frantically past the here and now to the shadowed world still visible in her mind.

Danger! It was still there, still approaching, but suddenly the focus had shifted so that she seemed to look down at the scene from above. There was a velvet-draped bed with a still figure in its center, but it was not she.

"Father." She said the word aloud as goose bumps coursed over her. She was shaken by the intensity of the premonition as she yet gazed at the still form on the bed. It was Ian, deep in sleep, and danger was very near.

She must go to him! Save him!

Her hands trembled as she pulled a gown over her head. Pain echoed through her chest, but she laced up the garment and grabbed a plaid from the bed. Glancing momentarily at the door, Rose shifted her gaze to the window.

Silken was there, standing on the wide stone ledge, watching and waiting. Of course. She could not go through the door for Ranald slept on the far side and was sure to waken if she passed that way. He would call Leith, and then all would be lost, for Leith would not allow her departure. Nay. He would not allow her to leave the castle, much less go to MacAulay Hold, and she must go.

The stone window ledge felt cool against her bare feet. Some five yards below, two soldiers stood together, speaking Gaelic and laughing.

Her toes fit easily into the niches between the stones. Her fingers found ready holds. It was not a simple task to scale the wall directly behind the soldiers' backs, but neither was it impossible, for she had practiced much the same thing at St. Mary's Abbey.

Silken waited until Rose squatted against the moon-shadowed wall, and then he too descended, jumping from window ledge to a lower window ledge until he stood some forty feet off to the guards' left.

Rose held her breath as the wildcat turned. Moonlight glistened in his golden eyes. Their gazes caught, transferring thoughts, and then he shifted his attention to the soldiers. The sound that issued from his throat was low and menacing, but loud enough to startle the men from their talk.

Yanking out their claymores, the two pivoted toward Silken.

Quiet as the night, Rose slipped through the shadows toward the stable, knowing Silken would easily leave the two men behind.

No soldiers slept inside the barn tonight for it was more comfortable out in the gentle breeze. Maise nickered from her stall, and Rose shushed her, lifting a hand to stroke her velvety neck. A bridle hung from a peg nearby. Rose slipped the bit between the mare's teeth and swung the door wide.

In a moment Maise was in the aisle, her hoofbeats muffled on the straw-strewn floor.

Outside, the breeze was fresh. The mare pricked her ears, watching as Silken approached, but at a word from Rose, she relaxed.

They were at Glen Creag's stone wall in a matter of minutes. It loomed dark and tall.

A movement! Shadowed and silent! Fear stabbed Rose with sharp spurs. The shadow shifted, swelled.

"Me lady!" Hannah gasped, barely visible in the lee of the towering wall. "Ye shouldna be out of bed. What be ye doing here so late at night?"

Rose swallowed a lump of fear and tried to soothe her nerves. "I might ask the same of you," she said quietly, noticing another shifting shadow behind the woman.

"I... " Hannah moved a nervous step backward. "I meant na harm, me lady."

Rose tightened her grip on the reins, glancing furtively about her. She was delaying too long, risking discovery with the sound of their voices. “I too mean no harm," she whispered. "Please, Hannah, let this be our secret. Just between us two."

"But Lady Fiona." Hannah came closer, and a frail moonbeam fell across her worried features and chestnut hair. "Where do ye go?"

"Please do not ask," begged Rose "For I must not say."

"Me lady, ye canna leave these grounds alone. “'Twould be unsafe,” Hannah said but Rose turned the mare away, praying for divine intervention. Leith must not awaken, for even if he trusted her instincts, he would not allow her to go. And if he sent an army, or went himself to MacAulay land ... She shivered, seeing blood. No. She must go. And she must go alone.

"Please, me lady. Wait. Don't leave us," pleaded the maid. 'There is danger. Harlow!" She turned abruptly, desperation making her voice wispy. "Harlow, do not let her go."

Rose stopped and stiffened. So she had been right. It was Harlow who was hidden in the shadows with the lovely Hannah. Harlow with the hard past and the flinty eyes. Harlow who had accosted her by the river and been present at the rocky knoll where she'd felt the evil. And yet, was it
his
evil or was he simply a young man with too few prospects and a great love for a woman denied to him?

"If you stop me," Rose said firmly, "you will need to explain your presence here." Her gaze shifted to the shadow she knew to be Harlow and her tone softened. "Do not worry. There is but something I must do." She lifted the reins. "Keep silent, Hannah," she whispered, "and when I return on the morrow, I will ask our laird if there is not some way that you and Harlow might wed."

"Me lady," said Hannah, "how could ye ken me fondest desire?"

"Be silent, now," Rose begged, and turned away again.

"I canna let ye go into danger to better me own life," Hannah whispered. "For I owe ye much already."

"You owe me nothing," countered Rose, hurrying toward the drawbridge.

" Tis na true."

From the darkness Silken called softly, startling a gasp from Hannah, but she grabbed Harlow's hand, dragging him along as she ran after the black mare. "I owe ye for wee Somerled's life. For sweet Roman's well-being. For Eve's happiness. I owe ye much already. Dunnaa go," she pleaded.

"I must. Please understand. I—"

"Auld William guards the drawbridge," said Harlow suddenly. "I will send him away and lower the bridge."

"No! Harlow!" Hannah gasped, but he was already striding off. "Please," pleaded the woman again, but Rose took her hand, shushing her softly. They stood together silently then, waiting until Harlow returned.

"I told him I'd keep his watch," he explained. He caught Rose's gaze with his own. "Ye have only a few minutes."

He turned away and she followed.

The crank complained softly as Harlow turned it. The drawbridge settled onto the land beyond the rushing river.

"Thank you," Rose whispered. "I shall not forget this."

She was across the bridge in a moment, and though it was not easy to mount bareback, she managed it somehow, and, leaning over the mare's neck, headed west, toward MacAulay Hold.

"Harlow," Hannah whispered, gripping her lover's sleeve with trembling hands, "what have we done?"

Most probably he had caused his own execution, Harlow reasoned grimly.
"We
have done nothing," he said, pulling her hands from his sleeve to take them in his own. "It is
I
and I alone who has aided her escape. Ye will claim na knowledge of it. Do ye hear me?"

"Nay, Harlow!" Hannah cried. "Why do ye do this?"

For a moment his eyes closed and when he turned his gaze to the west, there was no sight of the Lady Fiona, no sound of the black mare's hoofbeats in the darkness. "She could have seen me dead, Hannah," he answered. "She could have caused me death long since. For the laird thinks it is I who wounded her."

"Nay!" Hannah denied, her fingers tightening in his. "Nay. Tis na true."

"Aye, me love," he said softly. "And he has reasons to think I wish her harm. And for that I am sorry. But I canna be sorry for granting her wish. She has saved me more than once from the Forbes' fury. I fear he thinks I stalk her, when in truth I only wish to be near ye. He thinks me lust for her so deep that I deny all good sense in me quest for her. He thinks me the greatest of fools."

Harlow's voice was filled with deep, quiet sorrow, an aching longing for respect.

"Harlow," Hannah whispered, "I dunna understand yer words, but I ken this. If the Lady Fiona should be harmed, the guilt shall be upon our heads, whether or na others know of our deeds. Please. If ye love me, go after her. Dunna let harm befall her."

In the darkness Harlow blanched. If he followed her, Leith would see his actions as proof of his guilt and would surely kill him. But if he did not... "I do love ye, lass. Dunna forget that," he implored, and, loosing her hands, hurried toward the stable and a swift mount.

Dermid chuckled to himself. So the lass had flown Glen Creag and now headed west toward MacAulay Hold.

Turning his horse, he followed her. He could kill her quickly and soon, but how much better to wait until they reached MacAulay land and take his time with her!

Yes. He would follow her, anticipating the killing to come.

Chapter 29

“Me laird! Me laird!" Hannah pounded on the door of Leith's temporary bedchamber, her heart in her throat.

He appeared in an instant, a plaid clutched about his waist, his great chest heaving with panic, his sharp eyes gleaming in anticipation of her words. "Fiona?" he questioned, his mind scrambling to assemble thoughts. She had seemed to be recovering so well, but...

"Aye, me laird," said Hannah, but there was no time to say more for already he was rushing down the hall, one white-knuckled hand gripping the blanket at his hip.

Ranald still slept in the doorway. Leith vaulted over him in an instant, pushing the door inward. "Where is she?" he demanded, his gaze storming about the room.

"Gone, me laird."

"Gone?" The word was choked from his throat.

"Aye." Hannah squeezing her hands together, suddenly fearful of this man who ruled their lives. "She has flown. All alone. I could na stop her."

"Why?" He reviewed every word he had spoken to her, every detail that might give him a clue to her thoughts.

"She but said there was sommat she must do," Hannah exclaimed, wringing her hands.

"Sommat she must do?" Leith grabbed Hannah's arms. "What? What must she do?"

"I dunna know. She didna say, but insisted she must go. I begged her to stay, me laird, for she is na yet mended. Please... If anything should happen to her..." Hannah covered her face with splayed fingers. "Please—"

"Hannah!" Leith snapped, shaking her. "Where did she go? Which way?"

"I dunna ken," Hannah cried. "She rode the black horse. I couldna see her past—"

"Which way?" Leith roared, his face contorted with rage.

"West! West, I think. But I couldna see far for 'twas dark. She may have turned. I—"

"West," he said, his grip loosening. “Toward the MacAulays."

Hannah's jaw dropped as she shook her head in firm denial. "She is na a spy for the MacAulays," she insisted. "She loves us. She would na—"

"Hannah!" Leith shook her again, his tone flat. "Go to the stable. See that Beinn is saddled. Do ye hear?"

She swallowed hard, her face white, her body shaking.

"Do ye hear, lass?" he shouted.

"Aye." She nodded woodenly. "But me laird, I fear Harlow has ... taken yer stallion."

"Harlow?" Within Leith's chest his heart stopped dead. "What say ye?"

"I begged him," she said. "I begged him to follow her. To keep her safe. He said yer stallion would follow her mare. That—"

"Brother!" called Roderic, running down the hall. "What is it?"

"Fiona! She is gone. See that a horse is readied," Leith ordered.

Rose had been riding for three hours or more. She winced, covering her wound with her right hand. Pain shook her with sharp tremors. But she could not stop. Perhaps she should have tried a straighter course toward the bridge that would take her to MacAulay Hold, but it had been dark as pitch when she'd started out, and she'd been uncertain she could find it without following the river.

But what if Creag Burn was not the watercourse that led to MacAulay land? What if the bridge she had traversed with Leith had been on another burn?

Doubt shook her resolve. Perhaps she was a fool to fly from the safety of Glen Creag on account of a fearsome dream. But... No. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the emotions again. Something drew her to the MacAulay's side. She was needed and she could not delay.

Maise tossed her head and pranced a bit. The movement sharpened the pain in Rose's shoulder, but she touched her heels to the mare's sides and hurried on.