Неизвестный

by Kinley MacGregor

  Impish. That was the only word to describe her fey beauty, and yet there was a proud dignity to her that told him she was well bred and not some country lass come to wreak havoc with him.

  But why would such a woman be here in his cave?

  Alone.

  "Who am I?" he answered her question slowly. "I happen to be the man who owns this place and one who doesn't take well to unannounced, unknown visitors. Now given the fact you've intruded into my domain, the least you can do is enlighten me as to who you are and why you're intruding."

  That took some of the bluster out of her as she looked away from him and muttered. "Well, aye, I did do that." She turned her gaze back to his and lifted her chin as she recovered her courage, and when she spoke, her words were full of conviction. "But I'm here for a good reason."

  "It'd better be a damned good reason."

  Here now, she said as she actually waved a chastising finger at him, "no need to curse at me. This is already awkward enough, what with your being naked and all…"

  He arched a brow at her words. He'd forgotten that one piece of this, but since she brought it up, he was instantly aware of the fact that nothing but a fur covered him.

  "… but that's no need to be discourteous."

  He snorted at that. "I was born discourteous."

  "So they say. However, discourteous or not, I have need of your services."

  He arched his other brow as a bit of amusement went through him, and he taunted her before he could stop himself. "My naked services?"

  A high blush rose to her cheeks, making her eyes appear more green than gold. "Most certainly not. I'd much rather have you clothed, but if 'tis your custom to walk about bare, well then, I suppose to each his own."

  For the first time in years he was actually amused. She was a cheeky, bold lass. Unlike anyone he'd ever met before.

  Of course, he'd never before met an unknown well-born woman while he was lying naked in his bed.

  And somewhere deep inside was the question of whether she would be so bold where it counted most… between his fur covers.

  His shaft stirred instantly at the thought and grew more rigid as he swept his gaze over her body. Aye, she was ample enough to be well worth the savoring. Lush hips and breasts. Probably no more than a year or two younger than he, she would make a fine morsel to nibble.

  One that would probably last out the night until they were both well sated and spent.

  Aye, she had a nice rump. One a man could grab on to and—

  "My lord," she said firmly, like a tutor addressing an errant, daydreaming child. The tone instantly intruded on his meandering thoughts about her "attributes." "I am here to procure your services as an escort."

  He frowned at her words. "My what?"

  "I need a man to accompany me to England."

  Nay, his mind roared as he remembered all too well what had happened the last time a woman had said those words to him.

  That was the last thing he needed said to him today of all days. Most especially out of the mouth of a beautiful blond woman.

  She took a step back at his snarl.

  "I beg your pardon?" he growled.

  She swallowed. "I need a man to take me to my aunt's home in England."

  It was all Ewan could do to stay in his bed and not tear down the walls.

  Surely the Fates were mocking him with this. How could this happen to one man twice in the same lifetime?

  "Why?" he asked.

  Unaware of the fury roiling inside him, she cleared her throat. "I am engaged to be wed to a man I cannot stomach, and I need you to escort me in safety to my aunt's home so that I won't have to marry the toad."

  Ewan cursed foully at that. It echoed off the stone walls around them. "Are you daft?"

  "Most definitely not."

  "Then why would you come to me?"

  "Because you are the most feared man in Scotland. No one in my father's clan or my betrothed's would dare stop you from taking me."

  "Aye, well, you can forget all about that happening, love. There's no power on this earth or beyond that could make me take you to England. Now hie yourself out of here and—"

  She stiffened. "I can't."

  "You mean you won't."

  "Nay," she said, twisting her hands in the fabric of her brat. "I mean I can't go back there."

  "Whyever not?"

  "Because I've already left a note saying that I ran off with you."

  * * *

  Chapter 2

  « ^ »

  By his face, Nora could tell she had just uttered the most horrific words imaginable to the man. His skin tone was a strange, mottled mixture of fury, disgust, and disbelief.

  "What the hell do you mean you left a note?"

  Judging by the wrathful gleam in his icy blue eyes, she had most definitely said the wrong thing.

  Suddenly, Nora was terrified, and that didn't happen often. Indeed, her father oft said she had been born without a single fear in her body.

  But right now her heart hammered with panic at the sight of his barely leashed wrath. Ewan MacAllister was no small man, and she had no idea just how dangerous he might prove when riled.

  "I had no choice," she explained, hoping to offset his temper at least a small degree.

  "Woman, we all have choices." Ewan came off the bed and winced as if a fierce pain had shot through his head.

  The fur fell away from his naked body as he buried the heel of his hand against his left eye and cursed again.

  Nora gasped and spun about to give him her back, even though a tiny, wicked part of her wanted to stare at all that lush strength and tawny skin.

  He was truly a fierce man.

  One of brawny, unrefined power and handsomeness.

  She could hear him cursing even more and grabbing his clothes, then pulling them on, and all the while she felt Ewan's glower. It was hot, powerful and terrifying, and it set her to trembling.

  "How could you have done such an lack-witted, cursed thing?" he snarled. "Whatever got into your mind that made you pick me to say you ran off with?"

  "Please," she said, her voice soft and pleading. "I can't marry Ryan MacAren. He is egotistical and arrogant. He smells of bad hygiene and eggs—" She shuddered at the memory of that one. "He likes to eat raw eggs, which is a disgusting habit to say the least, and now that I think on it, it is probably his most endearing one. I would sooner die than wed him."

  Ewan growled again. "The last time a woman said those words to me, I believed her, and it caused a feud for my clan that resulted in the deaths of untold men and women on both sides of it. It cost my brother his life and his soul, and it sent my father to his grave as well. Now I ask you, why should I give a witch's damn about what happens to you when I don't even know you at all?"

  Nora was baffled by his words. "Someone else ran from Ryan MacAren and caused a feud for the MacAllisters?"

  He came around her to glare. A vein throbbed in his temple as he narrowed his eyes ominously. "Are you trying to anger me more?"

  "Nay. I'm not trying to anger you at all. I am only trying to gain your help. I can pay you, if that's your concern."

  "I have no need of your money."

  Ewan had never in his life met a woman like her. How dare she come in here and ask him such a thing?

  Surely she had no more sense than a leek pea. What kind of woman would traipse alone into a man's home and ask him, a total stranger, to lead her astray of her parents?

  And as he stared at her, he wondered just how much like Isobail she really was.

  Just how far would she go to gain his help…

  He gave her a hot, lustful once-over and let his gaze linger meaningfully on her breasts. "Is there anything else you would offer me?"

  She blinked at him once as if not understanding, but as he watched, her amber eyes sparked.

  She gasped, then raked a repugnant stare over him that duplicated his own. There was no guile or artifice about her. She was truly offended by his q
uestion.

  "Och now," she said, curling her lip, "you are foul to even make such a suggestion to a well-bred lady. How dare you! Well, never you mind. I'll be finding my own way to England and not be in your presence another moment."

  He was surprised by her words and her indignant reaction.

  Huffily she gathered her skirts into her hands and gave him one more sneer for good measure. "You are a crude, ale-smelling beastie, and I have no use for such a man. Better I should go alone to my aunt's than have to deal with the likes of you. I should have never come here."

  Now she had that thought?

  Ewan caught her arm as she started past him. "How did you get here?"

  She glared at his hand on her arm. "I rode a horse until I reached your mountain and then I walked."

  "Is that how you intend to get to England?"

  "Aye. I'll crawl there on my hands and knees if needs be."

  "You'll never make it alone."

  She gave him a hard, determined stare. "Then I shall die trying."

  He saw red again. "The bloody hell you will. I'm taking you home to your clan."

  "Never."

  His jaw twitched. In all his life he had never had a woman infuriate him so. Women were either too terrified or too lust-filled in his presence to do much more than nod or giggle. But this one… this one made his blood boil.

  "You think I won't?" he asked her.

  She snatched her arm free of his grasp. "I think you don't know who my clan is. You have no idea who I am, and you can't take me back to my father unless I tell you, which I most certainly will not do."

  She had him there.

  But not for long. "You will tell me."

  "Ha!" she snapped, lifting her chin defiantly.

  Ewan clenched his hands into fists. What did a man do with such a woman?

  "Why of all the men in Scotland did you come to me?" he asked.

  "Because you and your brothers are the only men I know who scare Ryan. I knew Sin and Braden MacAllister would never leave their wives to take me to England, and Lochlan, being laird, would never consent to help me for fear of running afoul of my father and his clan. That left you, who has no other tie to anyone. I thought that if I told my father that I had eloped with you, no one would dare come after me."

  Ewan muttered under his breath about women and their mindless machinations.

  This was a nightmare all over again. So close to the events with Isobail and yet so oddly different.

  How could this be happening to him again? Especially on this particular day that marked the death of his brother. "You told them you eloped with me?" he asked.

  "Well, what else could I do?"

  "You could have done as you were told."

  She shook her head. "That is the one thing I canna do. Nor will I."

  "Why?"

  "Because I will not allow myself to be some useless adornment."

  Ewan frowned at her unexpected words. Although why he even reacted to that, he didn't know. She seemed to throw his keel every time she opened her mouth.

  "I am not some nothing to be ignored and patted on the head and tolerated like a pet dog," she continued. "'Tis bad enough my father thinks me lack-witted, but to be married to such a man… Never."

  What a bizarre concern for a woman. Who'd ever heard of such? A woman's place was to do as she was told and to bend her will to that of her father and then to the husband her father picked for her.

  God help them all if a woman ever took it into her mind to think for herself.

  He, for one, would never again help a woman defy her family's wishes.

  "For this you are willing to risk your life?" he asked.

  "If someone planned to shut you away and ignore you, to listen but never hear a word you spoke, would you tolerate it?" She looked about his cave and appeared to change her mind. "Well, mayhap you would, but I will not. I have a mind of my own and I wish to use it."

  Ewan shook his head in disbelief. "Wherever did you get these ideas?"

  She ignored him. "You've made it quite clear that you've no wish to help me. So be it. I'll trouble you no more. Now step aside and let me be on my way. I've a long journey ahead and—"

  "You're not leaving."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "You heard me. I'm not about to allow you to take a journey that at best would result in your ravishment, at worst your death."

  "I'm no concern of yours."

  "Lady," he said, his voice gruff and menacing, "the moment you put my name on a piece of parchment designating me as your betrothed, you became my concern. What think you would happen if you were harmed? Your father, whoever he is, would demand my head for allowing you to be hurt. According to your own words we are bound to each other."

  She cringed as if she hadn't thought quite that far ahead. "They might not believe it," she said hopefully. She nodded her head as if she had just convinced herself of her reasoning. "After all, we've never met before. Come to think of it, they shouldn't believe it at all."

  "But they will," he said morosely.

  "How do you know?"

  "Trust me, my luck would have it no other way."

  Ewan growled deep in his throat again. She seemed to have that effect on a lot of men when they spoke with her. Though why everyone became exasperated with her, she was never quite sure.

  Nora watched as he began gathering his things. "What are you doing?"

  "I'm getting ready to take you to my brother's."

  "Why?"

  "Because you can't very well stay here with me."

  She braced her hands on her hips. "I don't wish to go to your brother's. I must get to my aunt."

  "In England."

  "Aye."

  Ewan paused to look at her. "And who, pray tell, is this precious aunt you would have me deliver you to?"

  Nora hesitated. That knowledge could quite easily hurt her more than help. She always had to be careful of whom she told that to—the repercussions could be quite dire.

  "If I tell you, you must swear on your soul that you won't take me back to my father."

  "Fine. I swear on whatever portion of soul I possess that I won't take you to your father."

  She took a deep breath and hoped he would abide by those words. "My aunt is Eleanor of ! Aquitaine."

  Ewan laughed incredulously at her declaration.

  Och now, what a load of blather that was. He'd never heard anything more preposterous.

  This woman, whoever she was, was a fine piece of work to make such a grand claim. "Queen Eleanor of England is your aunt?"

  "Aye."

  Oh, the lass was a daft one, for sure. There was nothing more to be done about it. Her being niece to the queen of England was complete and utter madness. "Then I am the son of William the Conqueror."

  " 'Tis nice to meet you, William Rufus."

  Ewan raked a hand through his hair, though what he really wanted to do was wrap it around her neck and squeeze.

  Whatever was he to do with her?

  He didn't believe her for a single moment. If the niece of Eleanor of Aquitaine was anywhere in Scotland, everyone would know.

  "And your name, lass?"

  "Eleanor, named for my aunt, but they call me Nora."

  "And your clan?"

  "That I won't tell you."

  For the first time, Ewan understood some of Lochlan's frustration when his older brother had been dealing with Maggie during the last days of their feud with the MacDouglas clan. At least then Lochlan had had Braden to come in and save the day, and tame the wench. There was no one around to help him with this vexation.

  What did a man do with a woman who wouldn't heed reason?

  Was it too much to ask for some divine intervention?

  Obviously so.

  Ewan wasn't sure how to proceed, but then dealing with women was the specialty of his brothers, not him.

  "Very well then, Eleanor—"

  "Nora."

  Nora cringed at the murderous look he
gave her.

  "You know," she said quietly. "I truly didn't mean to be a bother to you. I just want to go to my aunt's. Eleanor always said that I could come to her any time I needed to."

  "Did she now?"

  "Aye."

  "And did she say anything else?"

  "To let no man, save the Lord, our God, dictate my behavior."

  Ewan hesitated. Now that sounded like the queen of legend; however, it didn't mean anything other than the fact this woman had learned of her. There was no way she could be a princess or whatever it was Eleanor's niece would be.

  This lass was as Scots as he was.

  And the sooner he removed her from his life, the happier he would be.

  With that thought in mind, he extinguished his fire and gathered a few makeshift foodstuffs and plaids.

  Nora watched as Ewan made ready to leave. Part of her was tempted to run, but she held no doubt he could catch her. Those long legs of his could take one step to her three.

  Perhaps Lochlan could be bribed or persuaded to force Ewan to take her to England, or maybe one of his other men. She had to get out of this country before her father missed her and led a search.

  She'd pleaded women's troubles and made her bed up to look as if she slept. She hoped it would be a few hours before her mother came to check on her and discovered the note.

  It might be enough time.

  You should never have left that note!

  Aye, but she hadn't wanted her father to worry overmuch. She'd thought that mentioning Ewan's name would both scare and soothe her father into leaving her be or at least hesitating before he sought her.

  It hadn't sounded so daft when her maid had helped her come up with the plan.

  Och, this was a bad idea all around now that she thought it over again. But she'd been desperate, and as her mother said, desperate people do desperate things. Not to mention her maid had encouraged her to seek out Ewan.

  Surely such a man as a MacAllister wouldn't leave a lady in such dire distress. 'Tis said they have each sworn to protect all those downtrodden, and I can think of no one more downtrodden than a lady married to Lord Ryan. Seek him out, my lady, and whatever you do, don't let him sway you from this course.