by Fiona Faris
“What’ll we do with her if we find her?” Smith asked. Why would he ask that? Ella thought.
“Evans is a right bastard, and I ain’t sure he isn’t a little crazed about the Pearson wench, what says we find her and he don’t pay?” Stewart chimed in. “We could always have our fun and dump her over a cliff, say we never saw the girl?” She looked over at Lucas, eyes wide, and her heartbeat quickening. Use her? Throw her over the edge of a cliff? What kind of monsters were these men. If all British soldiers spoke and behaved this way, it was no wonder the Jacobites would rise up against them.
“Evans is a bastard, and I think you may be right, he’s insane over the woman,” Peters said. “But I don’t want the Commander’s cast-offs. If we find her, we take her back. We have our fun with her if and only if he says so.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Smith chimed in, his voice despondent. “She ain’t here no ways.”
“Should we run the hay through, just to make sure?” Stewart asked, and Ella could hear the mirth in his voice. She felt a lump of terror rise in her throat. If they ran their swords into the hay there was no way she and Lucas could remain hidden.
They would be discovered, and Lucas would fight to the death to protect her. Knowing she could be raped, or even murdered was horrifying, but she couldn’t allow Lucas to risk his life for hers. Maybe it would be better for them both if she surrendered. She had to protect Lucas. His injuries wouldn’t allow him to fend the three men off for long. If they were willing to through her off a cliff instead of collecting coin, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill Lucas. They weren’t looking for him, so they wouldn’t think she was lying when she said she was alone.
Her fingers began to tingle, and she could no longer tell where she ended and the hay began. Everything was spinning. As suddenly as the thoughts of revealing herself began, she felt his strong arms clasp her into a tight embrace.
“Quiet love, shhh now,” Lucas whispered into her ear, his voice barely loud enough for her to register the words. “Dinnae even think it lassie, I’ll not have you risk yer life for me. We go together or not at all.”
Without missing a beat, he knew what she was planning to do. Their connection was strong and his warmth surrounded her. Breathing him in he smelled of cedarwood, and his own sweet masculine scent, her heart began to return to its normal rhythm. She no longer felt terror and the world around her began to slow back down. She wanted to retch or sob, or both, but all she could do was cling to Lucas.
The barn door opened again and she heard Fergus as if through a fog.
“Ye lads about done? I gotta feed th’ beastie and put him down to hay for the night.”
“Mr. Cameron, it appears all is well, my men and I apologize for intruding. If you see or hear anything of the missing woman, please get word to us at the cathedral in Dunkeld,” Peters said, following up with a “Come on lads,” of his own.
“Aye, ye can be bettin’ on it,” Fergus said through clenched teeth.
Once she was sure they had left the barn she moved to break the embrace with Lucas, but he would not release her, stroking her hair and keeping her tightly against him.
“Not yet, lass,” he whispered. “I’ve seen it too many times, ye think they be gone, but they may nae be. I’ll not be losin’ ye this day.” She nodded into his chest, content to stay in his embrace as long as needed, or longer. Horse hooves began to clip away from the farm, she felt a wave of relief wash over her.
“Ye can come out now ye wee beasties,” Fergus called. “The sassenach’s gone and not’ll be returning this night.”
Lucas crawled out from the mound of hay and shook the itchy, hard strands off as he reached down to pull Ella from the heap. Her cheeks wet from the tears she finally allowed to fall after Fergus gave them the all clear. He couldn’t say he blamed her. It had taken every ounce of strength in his body not to burst forth from the hay and run each of the men through with his sword at the callous way they described treating her. That any woman could be talked about and treated such a way was disgusting to him. Woman were creatures to be adorned and respected. His da had taught him and his brother the value of a woman, be it the mother, the sister, the wife or the stranger and to hear those English bastards talk of Ella as if she were a sack of wool to be abused and discarded was sickening.
As Ella stood, he embraced her again, tighter than before. “Th’ way those men spoke, it’s important ye know lass, not all men are that way. I’m not that way. Had I thought for a moment we’d make it through the fight, I would of killed each one of ‘em.”
“I know,” she sobbed into his chest. “I know.”
He slipped his hand under his chin and tipped her face towards his so that he was staring into the grey depths of her eyes. Taking his thumb he gently wiped a tear, and leaned down to place a gentle kiss across her lips. “I’ll not let another man talk tae ye or about ye thus.”
Fergus let out a small cough, and Lucas realized he was carrying on with Ella in quite a familiar fashion. He let her go, and they both busied themselves with the stray straw that attached itself to their clothes.
“As much as I'd love tae watch ye two whisper sweet nothings at each other all night, I think we ought tae be sayin' our good byes. Th' rode north east, toward Perth, you'd be best tae goin’ west 'en north tae get back tae yer lands laddie. It may tak' ye a day or so longer but I don’t think you'd likely run intae 'at lot again.”
“Yer right,” Lucas replied, giving the older man his hand in a firm grip. There was no way he would be able to thank Fergus and Sarah adequately for keeping him alive. For giving him Ella. There was so much he wished he could say. “Ye be a good man, Fergus Cameron. Someday I hope tae repay ye.”
Ella moved around him to take the old man in a tight embrace. “I’ll never forget the kindness you and Sarah have shown me. I will miss you so dearly,” she said. Lucas knew she meant every word.
They followed Fergus’s suggestion, walking into the forest west for what Lucas thought was the better part of two hours. The air was cold and crisp, no matter how tightly Lucas wrapped his plaid he could not find the warmth he needed. There was no moon, and even though that worked in their favor to stay hidden in the trees, it was difficult for him to keep direction.
He saw the look of concern on Ella’s face, the poor lass had been through so many emotions within the last few hours, he hated that she had to worry about him as well.
“I think we should find a good place tae stop for a rest lass,” he said, through heavy breath and clattering teeth. His wound was throbbing, and he feared he wouldn’t be able to go much longer.
“Do you think we’d be safe?” she asked.
“Well we cannae start a fire. That could bring unwanted attention. But this here is a braw tree, and I think we can sleep in th’ trunk an’ stay out of the way of anyone who may pass, though I doubt we’ll see a soul.”
“I think you’re right, and we should rest,” she replied. Even with black circles forming under her eyes, her hair tussled, and dirt smeared across every inch of visible skin, Lucas couldn’t help but think how beautiful she looked. She took one of the plaids from the bag she carried and spread it out in the crook of the tree. “It’s not a proper pallet she said, but it’ll do.”
Lucas felt something stir in his center as he saw she meant to sleep next to him. He was no stranger to a woman’s body, and they had shared two kisses that shook him to his core. He relished the feel of her next to him, but with everything that had passed between them, he was unsure if he could spend a night with her in his arms and not take advantage of her innocence.
“Ye mean tae share th’ plaid with me then, lass?” he asked—as a challenge or a question, he wasn’t sure.
“I do, you’re in no shape tonight to ravage me, and I’m afraid the chill will cause the return of your fever. You need my body heat, and honestly Lucas, without a proper fire I’ll need yours,” she said, patting the plaid next to where she sat. It was his invitation to join her
and it was a practical thing she was after. Gone was the scared, brave girl of the barn, and back was the adamant, confident healer who had kept him alive when all was lost. “Verra well, ye probably be right,” he replied too exhausted to fight.
“If I’m to sleep next tae ye, I’ll have to keep my arms around ye to ward off the cold ye ken,” he said, hiding his smirk.
“I’m sure of it,” she replied yawning and settling into the empty space created by his body. They fit together perfectly, and Lucas used every last ounce of his will power to urge his growing erection at her nearness to find another time to emerge. With everything that had gone on this was neither the time nor the place for a romp with the woman. Besides he knew it would be more to both of them than just a frolic in the woods.
“He’s never going to stop coming for me, is he?” she asked. She faced away from him with her head resting on the part of his arm between his shoulder and elbow, his other hand secured around her waist. The difficult question easier to ask in the darkness and with them not being face to face.
“Tell me about him. What type of man is he? Why does he want ye so fiercely?” he asked. It was now or never, if she would only give him something.
“The way he would look at me back in England, and the cruelty he showed toward me. I’d kill myself before I would ever let him touch me again,” she said. “Can we talk about it in the morning?” she asked, pushing down another yawn. “I’m afraid I don’t have the strength.”
“Aye, lass,” he said. “I think we should,” he replied planting a soft kiss into her hair as he held her. She had already fallen asleep. Lucas was not as well as he thought. His healing was going slow. By his calculation they should reach MacGille lands in about three days’s time by foot. The castle keep would be another half day from the border of his lands. If only they had a horse, they could cut that time in half. Ella’s question lingered in his mind. “He’s never going to stop coming for me, is he?”
Lucas knew the man never would. Perhaps his men were right and the commander was insane. Lucas remembered the look in his eyes as the devil dropped his sword onto his father’s skull. It was the look of a man possessed. Lucas had to protect Ella at any cost. He knew that meant it may be best for her to leave Scotland.
He was torn. He had already decided he wanted to keep Ella with him. His feelings for her were growing deeper and deeper by the day. He couldn’t imagine his life without her in it. But he also knew he couldn’t ask her to stay and risk everything for him. It wasn’t fair to her. There was too much at stake. Even though it would break his heart, in order to keep her safe, he would have to send her away.
A thought occurred to him. There were MacGille relatives in France. His father’s cousins. They were connected and sympathetic to the Scottish cause. If he could implore his mother to write to them, allow a safe haven for Ella, at least until he was able to secure his revenge against Evans. She would be safe, unreachable in France.
He would never want anyone else, he knew his family was kind, and his clansman the same. He would petition the clan council to allow him to marry her. Would she come back to him? She was young and beautiful, there was no doubt many men in France would be interested in her. His stomach coiled at the thought. Asking her to stay or asking her to wait, these were both unfair options for her. He knew she was responsive to him in body, but what were her feelings for him? She may not want to ever marry, and after what she had been through, he wouldn’t lay blame at her feet if that was the case.
Whether he could have her or not, he had to know she would live a full life. Could he be content for the rest of his days if she decided to stay in France? If he knew Ella was safe, taken care of, and Evans was dead, maybe he could. It was a risk he had to be willing to take. He thought back on their time in the barn. The look in her eyes when she realized the soldiers were talking about using her body for pleasure then throwing her off a cliff. Her terror stayed hitting him in the gut like a cannon ball. When he realized she would subject herself to that fate and expose their position in order to save him from being run through with a sword, his focus shifted, he would’ve done anything for her then. In that moment she revealed the true content of her character. She gave no thought to herself, she would have exposed herself to save him. Surely, he owed her the same.
Wrapping his arms around her, feeling the light in and out of her breathing as she slept, he prayed for guidance, trying to convince himself France was the best option for both of them. Finally deciding it was truly the only option that made sense, he drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Thirteen
It wasn’t yet close to sunrise, when Ella opened her eyes. She was safe under the plaid and wrapped tightly in Lucas’s arms. She fit neatly against him, her backside against his front. She had been dreaming of him again. Only instead of the red-haired, emerald-eyed stranger who seemed to need her help. He was here in the flesh, his limbs very much entwined with her own. A warmth deeper than that of the plaid moved through her body as she curled closer to her highland savior.
She was relieved his fever hadn’t returned in the night. It was cold, and he was not yet at his best. They had been through a trial, and he had pushed himself beyond the limits of his injury to ensure they got to some type of safety before stopping for the night.
The crook of the tree where they slept was immense. The largest Ella had ever seen. She wondered how old the tree must have been, to have a trunk large enough to fit them both comfortably. What battles had it seen. How much bark had it shed as men rested against its sturdy base facing life and death decisions?
“Can ye not sleep, sweet?” Lucas asked, softly, the heat of his breath tickling her ear pleasantly.
“I dreamt of you, and I woke up,” she replied keeping her voice low. Not because she was afraid of being overheard, but because the night was dark, and soft voices felt natural.
“Och, ye dreamt of me?” he asked.
“Aye,” she said, mimicking his burr.
“Sweet thing,” he laughed, but quickly turned serious. “Lass, I need ye tae tell me about Commander Evans.”
Her pulse quickened at the sound of the brut commander’s name. She tried to pull herself from Lucas’s arms but he wouldn’t let her go.
“Please, lass,” he begged. “ ‘Tis verra important.”
“Lucas, don’t make me think about him, or talk about him. Please.” What could possibly be gained by spending their time discussing the man who caused her nightmares. She had already put Lucas, Fergus and Sarah in danger because of her fear of him, and now Lucas wanted to know more. Commander Evans was a curse, she feared saying his name out loud would conjure him like a demon. If she told Lucas about the man, would he think her foolish? Aside from that night in Carlisle Castle and rumors of his character, what would stop Lucas from thinking her nothing but a mindless English girl who was frivolous and put his life in danger based solely on a desire not to be wed?
“Sweet, can ye nae not trust me with yer fears?” he pleaded. “I ken ye fear the man, and I willnae make ye return to him I promise. But I hae me own reasons for needin’ tae ken more about him. Will ye nae help me tae understand?”
She couldn’t refuse him the request. Facing away from him, with her gaze out toward the night sky she confessed everything. She told Lucas of her father’s gambling with her as the prize. The commander’s sickly appearance and the way his beady eyes stared at her throughout their stay at Carlisle. Perhaps the hardest thing to confess was the way Commander Evans had taken liberties with her in the hall and not one of the soldiers or even her own father had come to her aid. She didn’t want Lucas to think she felt that way about him when he took her into his arms, and the shame she felt at communicating this to him was almost too much to bear. When she was done she had told Lucas absolutely everything, even about her fears that he would think her foolish and send her back to Evans.
“Lass,” he said, turning her to face him. Her eyes adjusted to the dark of the night. His deep green gaze
did not hold the reproach she was expecting to see, instead she was met with a look she couldn’t identify. “The man is a monster, and I will die before I would ever send ye back to him. As long as I draw breath, I want ye tae ken, he will nae touch even one golden hair on ye head.” The firmness of his conviction spoke volumes to Ella. She couldn’t find words and simply nodded unable to stop the tears that began to flow.
He took her mouth with his own. At first his kiss felt angry, and then he gradually softened the pressure on her lips. She loved the way his full lips moved against hers, so thin and soft. She opened for him, and he explored her with his tongue, each stroke of his kiss causing more heat to pool in her middle. She wore the simple walking dress that she had first arrived at the farm in, but nothing but a chemise underneath and the feeling of her breasts as they met the heat of his bare chest caused a soft moan to escape her. Lucas deepened the kiss, taking everything from her in a greedy movement. She was happy to give, tentatively moving her own tongue into his mouth to explore and experience him fully. She had never known a kiss between two people could be so intimate, and so revealing. She felt his whole soul laid bare before her, and she wanted more.
