Selena, p.20
Bride of the Beastly Laird: Forbidden Love, Bodyguard, Scottish Romance, page 20
Then, finally, Craig held out his hand and shook Arran’s. “Aye. I dinnae wish tae see ye harmed. I’ll come with ye and add me brawn tae yers. If Bairre sets out in pursuit of ye, ye’ll need every pair of hands ye can muster if ye’re tae save yerself and the lass.”
Arran approached the head groom who was standing in the shadows nearby. “Can ye saddle melord a good horse?”
The groom nodded and entered the stable, where a fine chestnut was pacing impatiently. “He’s a fine horse, I’ll make him ready.”
Craig turned and patted Arran’s stallion. “Go ahead. I’ll catch ye on the road in minutes.”
He turned and followed the groom as Arran looked on in satisfaction. This was an unexpected turn of events, but one that would be to their advantage. Another able-bodied man for protection went some way to alleviating his anxiety. Although they were making their departure under cover of darkness, there could be no doubt Bairre would set out in hot pursuit once he was aware they had fled.
With Nicol in the lead, they moved off, crossing the cobbled yard at a slow walk, muffling the sound of hooves. He lifted his hand in salute as they reached the portcullis. Within seconds it had been raised and they filed through unchallenged. The moon was bright and they could see the empty road clearly enough.
Now that they were through the gate and on the road to escape, knowing Craig would be close behind, Arran felt himself lighten as if a giant load had been lifted from his shoulders.
They progressed slowly, waiting for Craig to join them. Within minutes they heard his horse on the road and, once he was alongside, the little group set out at a gallop. Arran was determined to create as much distance as possible between themselves and the castle before the dawn brought light that would expose them to any pursuers.
They’d not gone far when Nicol turned them away from the coast and began the trek inland to the high country of the mountains. The way took them through a deep glen that sliced through mountains on both sides.
Arran leaned in to Dahlia. “On the other side of those mountains is MacLeod country.”
She drew in a sharp breath. “Aye it is. If we can make our way across the mountains, we will all be safe among me clansmen.
As they progressed along the grassy meadows of the glen, Nicol pointed out the route he intended for them to take.
Snaking up the mountainside ahead of them was a well-worn track, a white zigzagging line in the moonlight.
“Halfway up that track is a small village of shepherds and goatherds. With luck, we’ll be able to rest there for a few hours before we progress deeper into the mountains, where the path becomes more difficult and, at times, will call fer us tae dismount and walk with the horses.”
At first the slopes were easy and the horses wound their way up without difficulty, but once they had reached the thickly pine-wooded section, the track narrowed and the horses slowed, finding their footing with each step.
Arran raised his hand and the little party came to a standstill.
“We’ve pushed hard and dawn is on us now. Our horses deserve a rest and we all need a bite tae eat tae break our fast. Craig and Nicol, can ye find a burn tae lead the horses tae drink while ye fill our water flagons? The ladies have ridden fast with us and it’s time fer us all tae catch our breath.”
Nicol and Craig disappeared out of sight, leading the horses, while Dahlia and Beattie unwound and stretched themselves after so long in the saddle.
“I’m happy tae rest fer a while, melord.” With a groan Beattie reached a hand around to rub her back. “I’m nae used tae riding such a long distance. I fear I’ve stiffened up.”
Dahlia looked on with an expression of sympathy. “Ye’ve done well tae keep up with us. Ye’ve earned a rest.”
Arran unbuckled the saddle bags containing their meal and by the time the two men returned with the horses Dahlia and Beattie had unpacked the boxes containing hard boiled eggs, cheese, cold sausages, chicken and oat cakes.
They clustered around finding somewhere to sit on one of the many rocks on the hillside and broke their fast.
Threatening dark clouds were gathering in the east and Craig predicted rain.
Nicol shook his head “From the way those clouds are moving, I’d say there could be storm on the way.”
He pointed ahead and in the grey dawn light it was possible to make out the spiraling smoke issuing from the smattering of tiny cottages much higher up the mountainside. “We can take shelter overnight there if needs be. The villagers will welcome a few extra coins fer their trouble.”
“We cannae afford tae rest here too long.” Arran looked down from his vantage point where the road they’d travelled was now clearly visible. “The road’s empty and there’s nae sign we’re being chased. It may be that we’ve gained a few hours before our disappearance is discovered. But once the word is out that we’ve fled, we can be certain Bairre will send his men after us.”
Dahlia made a tiny sound in her throat. “The prospect of what is in store from a vengeful Bairre makes me shudder,” she said.
Arran reached a hand to take hers and give it a reassuring squeeze.
“Dinnae fash, darling. We’re well ahead of them and they dinnae ken where we’re travelling tae.”
Dahlia and Beattie hastily gathered up the remains of their meal and bundled the boxes back in the saddlebags. There was still enough left over for them to make another meal.
They wasted no time before setting off again. But, as they climbed, the path became more tortuous and it was not long before they were forced to dismount and lead the horses on up the treacherous mountain path.
Arran observed Dahlia looking again and again over her shoulder in trepidation. But there was no surge of horsemen bursting out of the trees in hot pursuit and they continued their painstaking progress upward.
It was almost dusk and already raining heavily when they reached the first of the cottages and came to a halt. Lightning was flashing not too far off and thunder rolled in from the east. The storm Craig had predicted was almost upon them.
A burly young man wrapped in a heavy knitted cloak emerged from the cottage and stood in the doorway to face them, his arms folded across his chest.
Arran doffed his cap and stepped forward. “G’day t’ye lad. Me name is Arran Mackinnon.” He spun around, introducing the others. “We’re sorely in need of shelter.”
The man gestured toward his goats penned-up in a roughly fenced yard beside the cottage. “I’m called Matheus. I cannae help ye. I’ve nae room in me bothy fer ye, as me goats will be taking shelter from the storm under me roof this night, but I can take ye further up the village where ye’ll find respite.”
He emerged from the doorway while two young lads dashed out and set to herding the goats into the dwelling. While the goats slept safe and dry on the ground, the family would sleep above them in a loft.
Matheus strode up the rocky track towards a small group of cottages clinging to the mountain. Arran, Dahlia and the others followed behind him, heads down against the driving rain.
Two other men emerged from the cottages and nodded a greeting to Matheus.
“This is melord Arran Mackinnon who is seeking shelter from the storm fer himself and his friends.” Matheus turned to one of the men, a tall, thin fellow. “I thought mayhaps yer late faither’s cottage, being empty at the moment, could house them until the storm passes. The horses could be stabled underneath the sleeping quarters.”
“I’d be greatly obliged if ye could provide us and our horses shelter from this fierce storm.”
The man nodded as a stout woman joined the group. “Aye. Yer faither’s dwelling would dae the gentlemen and the lady.” She cast her gaze over Beattie and Nicol. “These two, the maid and the manservant, are welcome tae rest during the night by the fire in me cottage.” She beckoned them to follow her.
“Thank ye, Nell,” Matheus said, clearly deferring to the older woman’s authority. He turned to Arran. “These lads will guide ye a little further and ye can settle the horses.”
Nell addressed them again. “I’ve a cauldron ready on the fire. Ye’re welcome tae partake of some nourishment with me and me husband once ye’ve settled the horses.
Once they’d been shown the old cottage and seen to the horses with hay and water for the night, Arran, Dahlia and Craig rejoined the others in Nell’s cottage where they met her husband Thomas. He grunted his hello and regained his timber seat in front of the fire. Arran smiled to himself. A man of few words.
It was clear old Nell was the village healer, judging by the bunches of herbs swinging on hooks near the fireplace and the shelves stacked with bowls and jars of tinctures and the makings for poultices. The air in the cottage was thick with herbals and the enticing aroma of Nell’s stew. Unlike most of the other dwellings in the village, this was one stored with no space for animals. A pile of blankets and pillows had already been turned into a makeshift bed near the fireplace to be occupied by Nicol and Beattie.
After offering around the remains of their food, the little gathering supped Nell’s rich stew.
“Can ye tell me where ye be heading fer?” the old woman asked, cocking a curious eyebrow in Arran’s direction.
“Mayhap ye can give us some help in our quest. We’re searching fer a bothy that may once have been use by hunters.”
Arran held his breath as Nell nodded thoughtfully. It was Nicol who intervened. “And it mayhap have used in more recent times. We’re searching fer a lady who may be staying in the old place.”
“Aye.” Nell said after a pause. “I ken the old place ye speak of. In recent times there have been horsemen coming and going in that direction. It may be, as ye say, that a lady is staying there.”
Arran immediately stiffened. His hope of finding his mother at last, came alive.
His face mirrored his impatience. “If only the weather permitted, I’d be off searching fer this bothy even as we speak.”
Nell patted his hand. “Never fash, lad. The bothy will be there in the morning and by then the storm will have passed. Ye’ll be able tae make yer way without danger of rolling down the mountainside and be smashed on the rocks below.”
He nodded, curbing his eagerness, and gave her a rueful smile but he was itching to make that final bid in the search for his mother.
After filling their bellies with Nell’s fine stew and honey cakes they were making their way back to the old cottage where they were staying when a door to one of the other cottages swung open and a young woman emerged. They paused, heads down against the rain, as she darted across to speak with them.
“Ye two,” She took in Dahlia and Arran who were sheltering close together, “I see ye’re a couple, but ye…” She tugged gently on Craig’s sleeve. “…why ye’re in the way, lad. Dinnae ye ken that three’s a crowd?”
He chuckled. “Aye, lass. I dae at that.”
“Then I’ll take nae argument but ye must spend the night under me roof.” She grinned up at him cheekily. “A widow’s house is a fine place fer a strong young man such as yersel’ tae be taking shelter.”
He looked helplessly at Arran and Dahlia, who both smiled in agreement.
“Och, Craig. The lady speaks sense,” Arran nodded knowingly. “Three is indeed a crowd and sheltering from the storm with a pretty young widow beside ye is hard tae beat fer enjoyment.”
It seemed that was all the encouragement Craig required and he splashed off through the rain towards the widow’s cottage, a broad grin on his face.
“I’ll see ye on the morrow,” Arran called after Craig’s fast-disappearing form.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
They hurried into the dimly lit old dwelling that was theirs for the night and climbed the ladder into the hayloft. Beneath them the horses nickered and sighed in the warmth of their dry haven.
Dahlia giggled holding up two thick woolen blankets and spreading them out. “Well, I didnae expect we’d be spending this night alone together, safe and snug in a mountain refuge. I was ready tae sleep beneath a tree on a bed of pine needles, shivering me arse off with the rain coming down.”
Arran laughed softly, busy with the buttons on her dress. This was a rare and unexpected moment for them to spend the night together and he had no intention of wasting a precious second.
“Ye dae need tae take off these damp clothes, melady. I dinnae wish tae see ye catching yer death of cold.”
He peeled the dress over her shoulders, baring her smooth, creamy skin to his gaze and leaned in to layer a series of kisses across her shoulder. His groin twitched and hardened.
She chuckled. “Methinks ye should take off yer damp britches.” She wriggled out of her dress and petticoat. “I’d hate tae think of ye suffering in the cold when I can keep ye warm and snug in me arms.”
Arran needed no further bidding, and within a brief space of time he was lying naked beside her under the warm blanket, his manhood standing to attention. He folded her into his arms and bent his head to take her lips with his in a passionate kiss.
The storm raged outside but they were deaf to the thunder and the torrents of rain falling on the roof. All their fears and worries fell away as they lost themselves in the kiss.
When at long last their need to breathe again overtook them and they pulled apart, Arran propped himself on one elbow and fixed her with a steadfast, clear-eyed gaze.
“Now that we are free of Bairre Mackinnon and away from the castle and I have ye all tae mesel’ there’s something important I need tae talk about with ye.”
She looked up, his seriousness taking her by surprise.
“Surely we can forget about Bairre and his betrothal. At least just fer this one night. I ken our thoughts must turn his way. But nae tonight. Tonight, we are free of him for the first time.”
Arran looked at her, his lips quirking into a gentle smile. “Ye’re right lass, I dae wish tae speak with ye about yer betrothal. But what I wish tae discuss is the possibility of ye and me being betrothed. I wish tae marry ye darling. I ken we already talked about us being taegether forever a few days gone by, but I want ye te ken I truly mean it….”
The breath hitched in Dahlia’s throat at his words. “Marry me?”
“Of course. But if ye dinnae wish tae be married tae me…”
She laughed and gave him a gentle slap on his forearm. “Ye ken that tae be wed tae ye is but a lovely dream of mine.”
His eyes on her were serious. “I understand that the betrothal cannot be dissolved without the king’s or Bairre’s permission, but now that ye are far from the castle, is it nae possible that the betrothal willnae be upheld?”
“It isnae me that Bairre loves, but the thought of the lands and favor that will be granted him on our wedding day. I fear he willnae relinquish those readily, even though I am with ye and almost yer wife in our lovemaking.”
Arran nodded bleakly. “But if there were no other obstacles would ye wed me and be me bride?”
She threw her arms about his neck, tears springing into her eyes.
“There’s naught I would care fer more in all this world.”
He seized her in his arms and rolled with her under the blanket. As they kissed, she moaned in his mouth. “I am yers Arrran Mackinnon. There will never be another that I will love as I dae ye.”
With a sigh he stroked her face, caressing the arch of her neck with his fingers as they slid down to cup her breast.
“Ye are mine fer all time. I’ve dreamed of naught else since I first set me gaze on ye. The most beautiful lass I’d ever seen.”
She lay back, her hand toying with his rigid manhood, making him groan with the pleasure of it.
“I’ll nay be able tae wait fer ye if ye play with me like that. Me blood is running hot fer ye.”
With a chuckle she released his member and looked up at him, her eyes shining in the flickering candlelight.
“I dinnae wish ye tae wait, Arran me love. Me body is already on fire fer ye and I want ye. Now.”
She cried out as his hard shaft slid into her and raised her hips to meet his thrusts as their passion merged with the might of the storm and they lost themselves to ecstasy.
It was Dahlia who was awake first. She stretched and reached a hand to rouse Arran.
“’Tis morning, we must be up and moving.”
He gazed at her, her eyes still filled with sleep, her cheeks pink and round, her glorious hair tumbling in a tangle over her creamy soft shoulders.
She was irresistible, but as he leaned in to plant a row of kisses over her shoulders and down to her breast, she squirmed under him.
“Nay, me love. We mustnae tarry this morning.” A deep sigh escaped her lips. “We’ve a long ride ahead and there is nae time fer dalliance.” She reached for the clothing she’d discarded so casually the night before. She pulled the blouse and kirtle over her head and did up the row of buttons down the front of the dress.
Reluctantly Arran reached for his shirt and britches. “Ye’re right, there is nay time fer us tae pleasure each other.”
She laughed. “There will be many times tae come. After all, ye are me new fiancé, are ye nae?”
His heart gave a jolt as the reality of last night’s lovemaking came home to him. The woman he’d adored for years had finally agreed to be his bride. “Aye, ‘tis so. And I cannae wait fer the day when we shall be wed.”
