"'Twas a braw thing you tried to do, Colin Ross," Lion said. "But I wished you'd not put yourself in harm's way."
Colin's childish face hardened. "He killed my brother, and no one else would do anything about it."
"Aye. We'll see he pays, but it may take a bit of time."
"He has not cried, Lion," Wes said in French. "Not out of grief or fear, but you can tell it is eating him up."
Lion nodded. He wanted to hold the boy and ease his agony, but Colin was trying to be a man and he'd not shame him. "Colin, Wes and I have things to discuss. While we're about it, would you sit with my lady?" He glanced sideways at Rowena's pale, compassionate face. "This is Lady Rowena Gunn. She has a lad a wee bit younger than you, and she misses him just as much as your mama must miss you."
Rowena knelt in a whisper of soft wool. "It would comfort me if I might hug you, Colin." She held out her arms, and Colin's brave facade cracked. With a small, inarticulate sob, he threw himself into her embrace and clung.
Lion's throat closed as he watched Rowena shift Colin onto her lap and begin to rock him, murmuring gentle words. After a moment, Lion stood and looked at his men. Veteran warriors who had faced death without a whimper now had the sheen of tears in their eyes. He swallowed hard himself and led Wes a few paces away. "My thanks for getting him out of the dungeon."
" 'Twas our pleasure, believe me." Wes's eyes narrowed. "He'd not have lasted the night, I think, for he said they had orders to find out who'd sent him."
Lion's fists clenched tighter. When he brought Alexander down, he'd settle this score, too. "I'd wager no one sent Colin. But how the hell did he get to Blantyre?"
"Stole a horse and followed the directions the earl had sent when he summoned William Ross. Colin was furious because his brother Alain did not avenge Will's death."
"He could not have known how much Alain wanted to. But fortunately, he was wise enough to heed my advice." The moment he'd heard of the massacre at the abbey, Lion had sent word to Will's successor, warning him that to attack Alexander would condemn his clansmen to death, also.
"I know he was wrong," Wes muttered, "but I still admire the lad's bravery. To think he rode fifty miles on his own."
"And nearly succeeded in ridding us of the Wolf. We had word last night from Iain Ross, Colin's uncle. His keep lies twenty miles from here, in Glen Creagan. If we can get the lad to him, he'll make sure no word leaks out that he's there."
"The lad'll be glad to be with his kin, but he's been asking for his ma."
"Too dangerous. Alexander sent a troop of his Stewarts to watch Styore Castle for any sign of the lad."
"Do you think he'll outlaw the Rosses over this?"
Lion wished he knew. Fergus, chief of Clan Ross, was Colin's distant cousin, and a very powerful man. "Alexander has hopes Old Fergus will join his army. It would be unreasonable for him to alienate Fergus by attacking his kin, but lately Alexander has been none too reasonable. And the MacPherson does not help matters. He is all for moving now, attacking the smaller clans and forcing them to ride with Alexander till his ranks swell and he can take on the larger clans."
"Damn. If that happens, what of your plans?"
"I'd have to leave Blantyre. It's one thing to practice for a war against your friends, quite another to actually take the field and fight them. Nay, I could not do it. We'd have to make a run for Glenshee and hole up there."
"Waiting for Alexander to attack."
"Aye," Lion said gloomily. If Alexander besieged them for no reason, maybe then his father could finally get the king to see how dangerous his brother was and recall him. Of course, by then it would likely be too late to save the inhabitants of Glenshee. Lion raked a hand through his hair and looked over at Rowena. At the first sign of trouble, he'd have to send her back to Hillbrae. No matter how much he hated the notion.
"Lady Rowena has bucked up the lad's spirits," Wes said. Indeed, Colin's crying had ceased, and he sat beside her, talking quietly. "She's bonny and kind, your lady."
"Aye, that she is. You'd best take Colin and get him started for Creagan."
Colin didn't cry, but there were tears in his eyes as he bid Lion and Rowena goodbye. Lion's chest ached as he watched the lad disappear into the forest, surrounded by Sutherlands.
"That was a wonderful thing you did," Rowena murmured, her hand falling lightly onto his bare forearm.
"It was little enough—the life of one lad when dozens, hundreds have died and thousands more will die if Alexander is not stopped."
"How? How can you hope to stop him?"
"By proving he is the traitor." Under Rowena's incredulous gaze, Lion told her what they suspected Alexander was doing. "When we got a peek inside Alexander's strongbox, I saw several parchment rolls bearing the Campbells' boar-head seal. Now all I need is a way to get them," Lion added.
"I could ask to see another piece of his terrible jewelry."
"Nay, it is too risky. I should not have involved you, but the opportunity came up so naturally." He chuckled, shaking his head. "I think I'll leave the cake dough in the ring as a reminder not to force you to accept any gifts you do not want."
She laughed, her face upturned in the dappled light filtering in through the leaves. Lion was suddenly, achingly aware they were alone, truly alone, for the first time since she'd reentered his life. She realized it, too, for her eyes darkened at the exact moment he reached for her.
Their lips met…meshed.
The flare of passion was instantaneous, a firestorm of sensations and emotions that had him lifting her up so their bodies flowed together. He tasted greed and vulnerability as she opened her mouth to his. A heady combination that went to his head faster than Highland whiskey. He felt his needs echoed in the way she twisted against him, giving and taking. His blood burned; his heart pounded so thunderously it seemed the very earth shook beneath his feet.
A sharp squeal burst through the haze of pleasure.
Lion wrenched his head up just in time to see the boar charge across the clearing, its eyes red with fury, its yellow tusks gleaming, sharp and deadly as steel lances.
Chapter Eleven
Rowena gasped as Lion suddenly snatched her off her feet and shoved her behind him.
"Run. Get to that oak and climb," he ordered, his sword hissing from its sheath.
She spied the boar and froze. It was so close she could count the bristles on its ugly snout and see the wicked cleverness in its eyes. "You cannot kill it with a sword."
"Nay, but I can turn it. Now, run! Stay behind me, make for that oak."
Belatedly, she realized her hesitation endangered them both. Turning, she stumbled toward the tree. Its branches dipped invitingly near to the ground. Breathless, she snagged the lowest one and hauled herself up. Even before her bottom settled on the rough branch, she looked back at Lion.
The boar was nearly upon him, tusks lowered, set on a collision course with Lion's legs.
"Sweet Mary, nay," Rowena gasped. "Lion!"
At the last instant, he sidestepped the deadly charge. His sword scored the beast's tough hide, but couldn't penetrate. As the pig squealed, Lion wheeled and ran for the tree.
"Hurry, Lion. Hurry!" Rowena scrambled up to the next branch. But the boar was close. So close.
Lion snagged the branch she had vacated and swung his long legs up, just as the boar rushed by. It flailed its weapons at the empty air, bellowed in rage and turned.
Snorting furiously, the boar swiveled its head back and forth, as though trying to figure out how it had missed. Finally it looked up and spotted Lion. Tiny red eyes narrowed to angry slits. The boar charged the tree and struck it a few glancing blows, slicing off great hunks of bark and shaking the oak.
Rowena shuddered and closed her eyes, fingers clenched around the limb. "They do not climb trees, do they?"
"Nay, but they're smart enough to wait about beneath for us to come down."
"For—for how long?" Rowena asked weakly. No sooner had one danger been ave
rted than another fear had taken its place. She had always hated high places.
"Hard to say. Are you all right?"
"F-fine." Her teeth were chattering and a cold sweat trickled between her breasts. "I-it is a long way down."
"Damn, I had forgotten how much you dislike heights."
She heard a few scrabbling noises, then the limb on which she sat bent and quivered. Opening her eyes, she found Lion seated on the branch, facing her. "Oh, what are you doing? What if it breaks?"
"It won't. Trust me, sweetheart, I'll keep you safe." A few quick, acrobatic moves later, their positions were reversed. He sat with his back to the trunk, holding her sideways on his lap. "Better?" he murmured.
"Mmm." Rowena kept her face in his chest and her arms locked around him.
"Your fingers are digging holes in my neck."
"Sorry." Rowena eased her grip.
He stroked her back. "I suppose now you'll think I planned all this so I could seduce you."
"What? Nay, why would I…" Her voice trailed off as she realized how loverlike their position was. "Oh!" She sat up straight.
"Oh, indeed." He put his hands on her waist to steady her. "Trust me, Ro, I only want to keep you safe."
Rowena nodded but carefully avoided meeting his gaze. She couldn't afford to be drawn any deeper under his spell.
Below them, the pig grunted, an almost welcome reminder of a more tangible danger.
"How long will it stay, do you think?" she asked softly.
"Longer than we want it to, I'm sure. But don't worry, once Wes finishes seeing young Colin and his escort off to Creagan, he's bound to come looking for us."
Rowena turned toward Lion. "Will Colin be safe there?"
"Safe enough. His kin will not betray him." Because he thought she deserved to know, Lion told her the story of Will Ross and the burning of Blair Abbey.
Rowena sighed. "The earl is truly a horrible monster. What do you think he will do next?"
"I wish I knew." Lion's hands ceased their stroking. "He grows desperate, and that makes him even more dangerous." He drew her closer. "When we return to Blantyre, I want you to go back to Hillbrae where it is safe."
"But what of Paddy's future? I have yet to get the earl to agree that Finlay and I should be his guardians. And with Eneas more in his favor, I fear…I fear for my son's life."
"Shh. I'll send Bryce and the lads with you."
"But what of your plans? Will you not need your men?"
"Heckie and I can do what needs to be done."
Rowena sighed and leaned her head against his chest. She could feel the steady beat of his heart, and had to ask, "Tell me again why you left me without a word."
His hands stilled on her back. His heart lurched, then went on. "It was not by my choice, Ro. I loved you more than anything. I was even prepared to defy my father and remain in Scotland to be near you."
"Really? You'd told him about me?"
"I was never one to keep secrets from my parents. They knew I'd met a lass, fallen in love and wished to wed her."
Rowena raised her head so she could see his face. "It must have displeased them mightily. We MacBeans are so far beneath—"
"My parents are not like that. They wed for love and would see me happy, too. But they wanted me to go to France as planned and wait to marry when I returned."
Doubtless they'd hoped he'd forget her.
"We'd fought about it that very morn. My temper got the better of me, and I swore I'd run away with you. I slammed out of Kinduin in a blind rage and rode straight into an ambush."
"Someone really did attack you, then?"
"Did you not believe me when I told you?"
She shook her head. "I—I was still too angry with you. The story seemed a—a convenient way to make me feel sorry for you."
"Two miles from our glen, six men sprang from the brush. I fought them—Jesu, how I fought—killing two and wounding another before they felled me. I've never felt more alone, more powerless, lying there as they closed in to finish me."
"Oh, Lion…"
"Aye." Lion watched her closely, relieved to see her shock. He'd never thought she'd had any part in the attempt on his life, but the facts were damning. "If you still do not believe me, feel here." He took her hand and ran it down his ribs, over the thick scar tissue.
"Lion." Tears spilled down her cheeks as her fingers splayed over the wound. "How did you survive?"
"One of my father's patrols heard the noise and came to investigate. They drove off the assailants and saved my life."
"But—but why did they say nothing when I came to Kinduin looking for you?"
"I am not surprised. Things were a bit…unsettled. You see, the men who'd attacked me wore Munro plaid."
"Munros! But I thought the Sutherlands' feud with them ended years ago."
"So it had, but Laird Alain Munro had just died, leaving his cousin to rule the clan till his son was old enough. There were rumors that this Seamus was as greedy and ruthless as the old laird for whom he'd been named."
"So, your father had gone to seek revenge on the Munros?"
"Nay, the web is more tangled than that. My attackers wore the Munro plaid, but the two dead men left behind were not of that clan. They were strangers. My father thought someone wished to cause trouble between our two clans, so he held off and waited to see if I had recognized the men who got away."
"Had you?"
Lion nodded, his gaze full on hers, watching her reaction. "The man who led them was your brother."
"John? John tried to kill you? Why?"
"I thought mayhap he opposed our love."
"He did not know. At least, he never said so. Mama knew I had met you at the gathering, and she warned me not to see you or I'd end up getting hurt. So I told no one…" Old Meg had known there was a man in her life, but not Lion's name. Rowena shook her head. "You must have been mistaken. The shock of being ambushed, the fear you were dying…"
Lion shrugged. "I thought it was John."
"Why did your father not attack us, then?"
"Because I kept silent. I was weak from loss of blood and in a great deal of pain, but I did hold my tongue out of fear Papa would do just that if I spoke."
"Oh, Lion." Rowena buried her face in his chest. "All these years I hated you for leaving me, and you were just protecting me and mine."
He stroked her hair. "I told you I was not such a bad fellow," he teased.
Rowena lifted her head. "How can you jest about this?"
"It is in the past, Ro."
"I cannot believe my brother would do such a thing. Mayhap it really was Munros. You were gravely wounded and could have been mistaken about recognizing Johnny."
Lion made a noncommittal sound. He could not actually recall if John had raised a sword against him, but he was certain he'd seen him, watching from the shadows.
"Oh." Rowena framed his face with her hands, her eyes filled with suffering. "When I think you could have died, and I never knew. I thought—"
"Shh." Lion kissed her gently. "I am too stubborn to die." Though it had been a near thing, according to his parents.
"I—I can see why you did not send word to me." Her lower lip trembled. "You doubtless thought I'd—I'd tried to—"
"I never thought that. But my father was concerned the Munros might try again to kill me, so he put it about that I had left for France. Between the blood loss and the fever that came upon me, I was out of my head for nigh three weeks. By the time I regained my senses, you were wed to Padruig and gone to Hillbrae." He searched her eyes for answers. "You wed him just to spite. You must have, because I know you did not love him."
What could she say? Heart aching, Rowena nodded. "I thought you had tired of me and gone off to other adventures, other women. I could not bear to remain in my brother's household, a slave to his wife, who did not like me. So…"
"But Padruig was so old, so cold. How could you bear…?" Lion stopped and shook his head. "Nay, I do not want t
o discuss your marriage." It nearly killed him to think of her with another man. "It is in the past, sweetheart. We have our future before us." He claimed her mouth in a scorching kiss.
They had no future. Rowena knew that, and it nearly broke her, but she let herself be swept away by the surge of emotions flooding her. It seemed everything inside her had been asleep these past years, and only awakened again at his touch. She had forgotten what it was like to feel this alive, this greedy. Whimpering, she arched against him, tugging at his shirt, hungry for the glide of flesh on flesh.
"Easy." Lion caught her hands in one of his, the other reaching out to steady them on the branch. "Have you forgotten we're up a tree with a boar pacing beneath?"
Rowena drew back, horrified by what she'd almost done. "Oh, Sweet Mary, how could I have been so foolish?"
" 'Tis all right." He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. "I always liked it that you were as hot for me as I for you," he added with supreme male smugness. "But we'll soon be back at Blantyre with the whole night ahead of us, and no matter what Alexander has planned, we'll spend it in bed."
Rowena shook her head. "I cannot do that. I am a widow with a reputation and a son to protect." He winced, and she wondered if she'd hurled the hurtful reminder to push him away. "I'll not give Eneas, or anyone else, cause to claim I'm a loose woman and unfit to guide my Paddy."
"You are right, of course, and I'd not have you think I hold your honor so cheaply. 'Tis just I'd thought it best we not wed till this miserable business of Alexander's army is settled. If things go ill, you'd be better off as Padruig's widow than the wife of an outlaw."
"I cannot wed you," she said slowly, each word caustic as acid on her battered heart. "I thought you understood that."
"You've said so before, but you'll not convince me things are so hopeless. We can work out something so the lad can—"
"Nay, we cannot," Rowena said wildly, the consequences of Lion meeting Paddy too horrible to consider.
"Damn, you are stubborn." But there was more than just temper in her eyes, there was a fear so deep and profound it stopped him. In the silence, he heard the nightingale call.
"Let us hope that is Bryce and the lads." Lion pursed his lips and called thrice, a reply and a warning.
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