The two men, satisfied with Angus’s position, started to approach her. Rosalie could see it in their eyes; if they reached her, they were not planning on being gentle after her attacking them. She reloaded her sling and sent another stone flying towards them.
Steel screamed as the man’s blade blocked the rock, knocking it to the ground. Rosalie managed to release another stone. It hit the other man in the leg, causing him to curse and pause his approach. She tried her best to keep sending them, but she couldn’t sling them out fast enough to put enough distance between her and them.
Rosalie backed up. Her foot struck against the base of a broad tree, surprising her enough to make her squeal. Declan turned to her call. Enoch came down on him. Declan was able to meet the blow, but the position was wrong. Enoch pushed forward, grinning as he realized the power he held over Declan in this position. Declan looked behind him, his arm twisted at an extreme angle. There were few options for survival.
Declan freed his feet from his stirrups and, in one swift movement, kicked himself up. Rosalie screamed with fright. The move was a huge risk. Declan’s foot came up and knocked Enoch’s hand. He tumbled in a loose backflip over the back of his horse, forced off by the momentum of the move. Rosalie, in her desperation, forgot the men approaching her and tried to rush to Declan. Her arms caught in their grasp. They threw her back in the mud, their blades still out, and violence twinkling in their eyes.
Rosalie’s breath caught, frozen with fear. Declan landed on his stomach. Relief washed over her. She was terrified he would fall on his neck. Enoch dismounted. It was like him to want to taunt and torture his victims. Declan managed to push himself up before Enoch reached him, but his blade was at least a foot from his grasp, knocked from him in the fall. Enoch landed a kick to his chest before he was able to stand fully.
Angus still struggled with the horse; his foot twisted in the stirrup. The two men kept her barricaded away from the others, acting as a human barricade. Rosalie tried to grab a rock and use the sling once more, but it was futile. They ripped it from her hands as if she were a child and shoved her hard enough for her to fly back into the dirt. She managed to catch herself on her forearms in time to prevent further damage to her back.
“Leave him alone!” Rosalie screamed. Enoch turned to her. This is good, Rosalie thought. Distract him. “Ye have no right!”
“Me?” The dark-haired man touched his chest, his eyebrows shooting up. “I have no right to my bride!” he screamed, rage shaking him limb to limb.
“I’m not yours, Enoch! I’ll never be with ye. I don’t even know why yer here!”
“Yer stubborn an’ a fool, Rosalie.”
Enoch shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. She could see his body relaxing. Declan tried to step towards his blade, but Enoch kicked it out. He was calm, and Rosalie could see he was relishing the control he had over the situation.
“Ye don’t know what’s good fer ye, Rosalie,” Enoch laughed, the like the rattling of bones. Its cold cruelty sickened Rosalie, “That’s why I’m here—tae save ye from weak mongrels such as him.” He pointed his blade at Declan, who was still panting from the fall and square kick to his sternum.
“Ye didnae save me. Declan and Angus did. Yer naught to me but a bad memory.”
Declan saw the look in his eye; Enoch did not like this. He risked diving for his sword. Rosalie stifled a cry as she watched Enoch’s blade come down to hack Declan. Declan managed to roll out of the way just in time for the sword to hit the dirt, sending small pebbles and mud up in a wave.
“Yer a coward!” Rosalie screamed. “An absolute monster!”
Rage coursed through her. Her taunts influenced Enoch. He barely blocked Declan’s blow as Rosalie screamed. She tried to rush towards Enoch and Declan, but the men kept her at bay, laughing at her feeble attempts to overpower them. Rosalie was no fool, and Angus was at their backs. Their arrogance made them weak. She made a point not to look at the massive warrior directly. From the corner of her eye, she saw him stand silently in the shadows.
Rosalie continued to scream insults. “Ye think yer strong but yer weak! Yer yellow-bellied as the worse o’ ‘em, an’ ye’ll die alone fer all yer treachery!”
“Shut her up!” Enoch’s voice trembled with emotion. He stumbled backward as Declan lunged, barely keeping balance.
The two men tried to quiet Rosalie, but she fought tooth and nail. If a hand closed on her mouth, she’d bite it with enough strength to draw blood. The second her lips were free; she screamed out whatever she could think of to distract Enoch. She kicked and scrambled, giving her two attackers as difficult a time as possible.
Angus was quiet and clung to the darkness of the trees. Rosalie could see him limp, but he didn’t need speed, he needed surprise. He was within two feet of them when Enoch spotted him. Rosalie could see Enoch’s eyes fly open, and his mouth drop to issue a warning.
Rosalie slammed her knee hard into the groin of the man in front of her, shoving him back before the other man restrained her. Angus was vigilant. His blade ran through the man before Enoch could scream. Angus used his foot for leverage to free his sword from the dying man. He swung it over his head, using the momentum of its weight to crush the man in front of Rosalie. Rosalie screamed, the blade coming close to hitting her too. Blood sprayed over her.
Enoch was distracted enough for Declan to get the drop on him. Enoch managed to block his blow at the last minute, but the force and angle knocked his sword from his hand. Declan approached him, bloodthirst raging in his eyes, ready to slice down the villain once and for all when the sound of horses storming up the trail accompanied the call of a familiar voice.
“Stop!” There was desperation in the command, “Please, I beg o’ ye, stop!”
Rosalie turned, shocked and blood-splattered, to see Alexander and Enoch’s father, followed by a few others. It was all overwhelming. Rosalie looked down at her hands and saw the dark splatters. Her body trembled with such ferocity that the speckles blurred. It felt as if there was wool stuffed in her mouth.
She stepped forward and immediately knew from the rush of blood to her head what was to come next. Darkness blinked the scene from existence as she fainted.
“Rosalie!”
“Rosalie, can you hear us?”
The voices circled her, spinning around and around without focus. It took a moment for Rosalie to understand what was said. She tried to remember where she was and sort out what was happening. It hit her all at once. Her eyes flew open, and the faces of so many people around her, causing her heart to still. She tried to scramble back, her body awkward and still catching up to her mind.
“Whoa,” Declan’s voice soothed her. The authority in its tones took any question from her. “Dinnae move yet. Relax, Rosie.”
Rosalie could not relax, but she laid her head back down. There was something soft beneath it, and that’s when she realized they were no longer outside. Someone had moved her into a tent. Bright fabrics billowed above Declan and Alexander’s heads.
“What happened? Why are you here?” The questions burst from Rosalie, “Where’s Magda?” Then her eyes met Declan’s, and she remembered what could have ended up being her last words to him.
“Are ye alright, lass?”
Rosalie looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes. She nodded, ‘yes,’ and then said, “I’m sorry,” she burst into tears. “I’m so sorry; I called you an arse.”
Declan gave her a soft smile. “’Tis all right, I’m sorry too. Don’t cry; you’re safe now.” He brushed a tear from her cheek. He hated to see her sad.
Alexander piped up to answer her first questions. “It’s jus’ me. When I found out what Enoch were up tae—” he looked away from Rosalie’s gaze and stroked his beard. “I couldn’t jus’ stand by, I jus’ wish I could’ve been here to stop them two boys from dyin’ too.”
Rosalie felt nausea roil up inside of her as she remembered shoving that man into Angus’s sword. She could still taste th
e blood in her mouth from biting them. Their screams echoed in her ears. She closed her eyes as a shudder passed through her.
“Are ye well? Yer white as a specter.”
“I’m fine.” Rosalie’s voice shook. “At least, I’m goin’ tae—who were those men?” She looked at Alexander. “I didn’t recognize ‘em.”
“They run with me brother.” There was sadness in his eyes. “It’s no’ our fault they decided tae join Enoch in this folly.”
Rosalie sensed by his tone that he was convincing himself as much as her. She knew him well enough to know he blamed himself for their deaths. Rosalie reached out and touched his hand. He looked down at it, surprised by the contact. A weak smile turned up the corners of his mouth.
“What’ll happen to ‘im?” Rosalie’s brows furrowed as she thought about Enoch.
Alexander shook his head. “He’s nae welcome at ma fire any longer. His father knows it; an’ respects me decision on this.”
“That’s it?” Rosalie was pissed. She sat straight up, despite Declan gesturing for her to calm down, “He attacked us! Declan was the only person who cared ‘nough tae save me!”
Red-colored Alexander’s cheeks and Rosalie felt a pang of shame. She’d never seen him embarrassed or remorseful before then. It was not his fault his nephew was such a terrible person.
“’Tis the best I can do, Rosalie. That an’ apologize,” he looked up at her and Rosalie’s heart about broke when she saw the sincerity in his warm brown orbs, “I’m sorry fer all o’ this. I had a feelin’ that things weren’t right—it’s why I weren’t too keen on seein’ you two wed—but I didn’t know, Rosalie, no’ until after ye disappeared how bad he were tae ye. If I’d have known, if ye would have told us, I would have put a stop to it.”
Rosalie didn’t know what to say. Tears burned the corners of her eyes. She was angry but relieved they finally knew the truth. Having his abuse and her trauma acknowledged opened them, like resetting broken bones before healing. There was one question remaining at the tip of her tongue.
“Will I see Magda an’ Anna again?”Her words rattled. Rosalie tried not to let sobs overcome her. She felt like she would burst, struggling to keep all the pain inside.
“Aye, li’l one,” he touched her hair to soothe her. “We can leave in the morn if ye’d like.”
Rosalie sniffed and wiped her nose. Deep breaths helped calm her. “We have tae get Angus home.” Declan opened his mouth to speak before Rosalie turned on him, “Have tae.”
Alexander nodded. “I understan’. We’ll wait fer ye as long as we can, but winter is well on its way, Rosalie. Ye know what that means fer us.”
After everything Angus had done for them, she couldn’t stand the thought of him traveling alone, of them just abandoning him. There was also the fact that she wasn’t ready to return yet. Acknowledging what Enoch had done to her brought some peace of mind, but it also awakened her stubborn rage. She needed time to think before facing Magda and Anna. Rosalie looked at Declan. The concern in his eyes melted her heart. She needed more time with him too.
“An’ Angus? How is he?”
Before anyone could answer her, a commotion erupted just beyond the tent. Rosalie stiffened at the sounds of the angry screams. Declan was to his feet, his blade drawn. It was impossible to make out what was going on from within the canvas and tapestried walls.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“I can do as I damn well please! I ken she’s awake!”
Rosalie leaned back on the pillows and laughed. Declan and Alexander both relaxed at the sound of Angus hollering at whoever kept watch over the tent. Declan walked to the door and pushed over the tapestry blocking the cold morning air from whipping through the canvas.
“See?” Angus stormed in, his face blistering with resentment and frustration. The sight of Rosalie’s smiling face both disarmed his seething anger and infected him with his usual jolly cheer. “Good tae see yer feelin’ better, lassie.”
“Aye,” she said, taking note of the limp, which seemed worse than before, “An’ yer leg?”
Angus scowled and shook his head. “It’ll work itself out.”
“Ye should set it.” Concern washed over Rosalie as she remembered the massive horse pinning and struggling against Angus in the fall.
Angus shrugged her off, “It’ll be fine ‘til I can have me wife look at it. Don’t worry yer purdy head o’er me none.”
Rosalie looked over at Alexander. “Your brother…” she bit her lip. “Are we welcome here?”
Alexander pursed his lips. “Yer welcome as long as I am at the camp. I must be honest; I wouldn’t trust most o’ the people here. The boys ye slew were well-loved, no matter how misguided they may be.”
Rosalie nodded. She pushed herself up. Declan rushed to force her back down, but she raised a hand to stay him.
“Angus, can ye ride?”
Angus snorted. Rosalie smiled and stood up slowly. The blood rushing to her head made her swoon for a moment. Her knees buckled, and she reached out to grip Declan to stabilize herself. He looked at her with concern, as if she were fragile, which annoyed her more than anything. The fuzziness in her head cleared as her circulation returned. She stood up.
“Will ye let me look at it?” she asked Angus.
“Yer jus’ goin’ tae fuss o’er me. I’m fitter than a spring goat, I am.”
“Uh, huh.”
“We’re but a day’s ride from me home!”
Rosalie could smell the whiskey on his breath. “I see ye found somethin’ to numb the pain then?”
His eyes widened, and a blush of embarrassment colored his cheeks. “Well, I have tae give it to ‘em, they have good stock.”
“I think ye should take the day,” Declan said.
“I’m fine. I promise ye, if I didn’t feel up tae it, I’d let ye know. I jus’ fainted. Shook is all.” She looked at the blood over her clothes. “I’ve never…” she squeezed her eyes shut until the images of the battle blacked out, and tiny stars speckled the back of her eyelids.
“Rest until I ready the horses?”
Rosalie wanted to object. She felt fine other than the flashbacks. She knew it was futile to fight him, though. With a small nod, she agreed and let herself sink back into the straw-stuffed mattress.
“I mus’ be headin’ on as well,” Alexander said.
Rosalie wanted him to stay. She reached her hand out for his and gave it a tender squeeze, “Thank ye for everythin’. I love ye like a father, ye know.”
Alexander smiled. “I know. An’ I see ye as my daughter, Rosalie. I’m proud o’ the woman ye’ve become.”
The words touched Rosalie deeply. She felt like a child for crying so much over the last weeks and sucked back the tears that threatened to fall in joy. She could not help but think about how odd life was. A few weeks ago, she felt as if her community hated her as if she were a blight and burden, and now, Alexander himself was telling her he was proud.
Everyone left her to herself. Rosalie thought about everything, replaying all that took place in such a short time. Sleep washed over her, and for the first time in a long time, she felt at peace with her life.
“Darlin’?”
“Hm.”
Rosalie opened her sleepy eyes as Declan knelt beside her. A warmth washed from her cheeks to her lower abdomen. She felt much better than she had before and was grateful for the short nap.
“How ye feelin’?”
She smiled. “Perfect.” She touched his face, marveling at the way he seemed to melt into her embrace.
“We’re ready if ye are.” Declan looked at her a moment, and she could see he was still fussing over her. “We can stay, too, if yer not up tae it.”
“I’m ready.”
No goodbyes were waiting for their party. Rosalie was slightly disappointed she did not get to give Alexander a last farewell. He let her sleep as he departed. The rest of the community kept a wide berth around them as if they were infected. She could not help but
feel their judgmental stares on her as she walked to where Angus waited with the horses.
It was noon by the time they left. The trio rode in silence over the Scottish countryside. As dusk approached, Rosalie noticed the color wash from Angus’s face.
“Ye all right, Angus?”
Angus grunted. “Will be.”
“Are ye sure ye willnae let me look at yer leg?”
“Ye jus’ worry ‘bout yer self, lassie.” There was agitation in his voice. Rosalie didn’t take it personally, assuming it was from the pain.
Highlander’s Gypsy Lass (Highlander's 0f Clan Macgregor Book 1) Page 24
