Ian paused at her words. Would that it was true. “I dinna have time for this.”
“I ken you want to feel worthy. I see it in your actions. On your face. Only God can give you worth. Remember that.” Fiona squeezed his fingers. “God go with you,” she whispered. Then she left for the keep.
Ian ran a hand through his hair, Fiona’s words a heavy mantle over his already weighted heart. Was his need for affirmation evident for all to see? He would prove Fiona wrong. He’d rescue Claire, defeat his brother if need be, and finally be free.
“My lord, your horse.” Toly held out the reins to his steed. Ian mounted and headed for the gate. Two guards opened the wooden doors wide as Ian neared, and his company of men followed behind.
Phillip came alongside him. “One of the men scouted ahead and determined that Niall’s tracks lead northwest.”
“Toward Scotland. Mostly likely to gain more men. Following him shouldna be difficult.” But then, nothing had come easy to Ian thus far.
Taking the lead, Ian followed the visible path in the rain-soaked ground and skirted the woods before heading in a northwesterly direction.
They rode hard past Whitfield’s boundaries, across wide-open hills dotted with small copses of trees. Why had Niall not taken the main road? It would have made tracking more difficult if he had. Perhaps he took a more direct route thinking to confuse Ian. Whatever the reason, Ian was grateful.
The sun rose high in the sky, nearing its zenith, and sweat trickled down Ian’s back. By the saints, ‘twas hot traveling in his mail. He’d hoped they would have caught up to Niall by now. They followed the tracks around a large outcropping of trees to a wooded area to their left. The tracks led to a small stream, and Ian held up his hand as he slowed his mount. “Refresh yourself and your horse,” he called to the men.
Ian dismounted, led his horse to the bank, and knelt to drink. Once he’d had his fill, he rose and inspected Niall’s tracks. He pressed his fingers beside the print and compared it to those seen earlier near the castle. The print was moist. They were closing in.
Ian rose and strode toward his horse. “Men, mount up! We are gaining on them.” Ian didn’t wait for the men but gained his seat and urged his horse to a gallop.
His heart thrummed like the furious beats of his horse’s hooves. While he hoped he could catch up with them before dark, it was possible Niall had a greater head start than they had thought. Fortunately, the tracks were solid, and they headed straight toward the McGowan home.
Ian pushed his horse faster, churning the soft ground beneath him. He had a bride to rescue and a lady to woo.
The ache in Claire’s head pounded with each jolt of the horse’s gallop. Still bound. Still within Niall’s grasp.
While the sun had warmed the mid-morning air, a chill settled within her soul with each stride away from Whitfield. They hadn’t gone through any villages or towns as she had expected, thus making a cry for help futile. Perhaps ’twas why Niall kept off the main road, to ensure she didn’t cause a disturbance for all to see. She would have done just that, given the chance to expose her plight. Instead, she had to take every opportunity she could to delay their journey. She’d threatened to soil herself, which made Niall stop once. Would it work once more? “I must relieve myself again.”
“Nay, we are not stopping.”
“As I told you before, I will soil you should you refuse. I cannot contain myself much longer.” Claire didn’t know if she could actually do the deed, but if it meant delaying the journey, she would have to attempt the distasteful feat.
“Go ahead. I care not.” He urged his horse faster, causing her head to throb worse. Bile rose in her throat. Perhaps getting sick on him would make him change his mind
Claire bent over in Niall’s arms, acting as though she was about to vomit.
Niall cursed, reined in his horse, and dismounted, pulling Claire with him. She landed on her feet but stumbled to her knees, catching herself with her bound hands. She truly retched then, the pain in her head so blinding it turned her stomach. Good. At least she detained them once more.
Coming to her feet, she wiped her mouth with her sleeve. She didn’t care if she stank. Niall would have to deal with it.
Her captor placed a hand on his hip. “Are you finished?”
“I must take care of my needs.” Claire glanced around, noticing a grove a trees a good thirty paces behind Niall’s men still mounted upon their horses. She strode toward them, acting like she was hurrying. She could prolong their stop once she was hidden behind the trees.
A hand seized her arm, jerking her backward. “You canna need to relieve yourself so soon. You are only stalling.”
What could she say to make him agree? “I have a weak stomach which sickens when I am under duress.” She pulled on her arm, but he tightened his grip.
Niall barked a laugh. “I dinna believe it.”
“I’ve had it since a child ... since ... since Scots murdered my parents.”
A small smile quirked Niall’s mouth. “What an interesting piece of information. I would hear more.” He pulled her toward his horse. “But while we ride.”
“We are already stopped. Please allow me one more time.” She softened her voice, trying to appeal to him with a semblance of subservience. It galled her to do so. “Please, I shall hurry.”
Niall dropped her arm, his face twisted in frustration. “Do it quickly, but this is the last time.”
“Thank you.” Claire walked toward the trees, willing herself to go slowly, making a show of picking up her skirt to step through the tall grass in the wide-open land. She heard a sigh behind her and smiled, victorious yet again in foiling their progress.
She threaded her way through the crop of trees, getting further into the thicket.
“You will remain where I can see you!” Niall’s voice cut through his men’s conversation.
Claire looked over her shoulder, seeing Niall stomping through the grass towards her. “I won’t go further!” She rounded a large bush and squatted, pretending she did the deed. Niall didn’t need to know she was faking the whole ordeal. How long could she stall?
After a few moments Niall called out to her. “Enough! Come out or I am coming for you.”
“Just a moment longer!”
Niall cursed and headed her way. Claire quickly came to her feet and made a show of jostling her skirts into place. “I’m finished.” She came out from behind the bushes and through the trees. Niall reached for her arm, but she twisted away. “I can walk without aid.”
Niall grabbed her arm, gripping so hard she cried out.
“You are a frustrating wench.” He yanked her forward.
“So let me go. Leave me here and go get your little army and claim Whitfield.”
Niall pulled on her arm again and she sucked in a breath.
“While I would like nothing more, with both kings involved in Whitfield’s inheritance, I want the estate with the least resistance as possible—no trouble from either king.” Niall lifted her upon his horse and mounted behind her.
Niall turned to his men. “Let’s go!” Niall kicked his horse’s flanks and they pressed into a slow gallop.
“Tell me about your parents’ death,” said Niall. “Do you know who killed them?”
“Only that they were Scots.”
“Was it about twelve years ago?”
Claire blinked. “Aye, it was.” She turned and frowned at Niall over her shoulder. “How would you know that?” Indeed, how would he know unless ... nay, it wasn’t Niall, was it?
“I remember hearing about a big commotion regarding an English couple getting murdered on Scottish soil. It would have been that long ago.”
Her shoulders slumped. He wasn’t their killer—if he was telling the truth. She didn’t know how to feel. Though she wanted to know who had killed her parents, she didn’t want it to have anything to do with Ian and his family. “How did you hear about it?”
Niall hesitated. “Only throug
h talk among the guards.”
“It had nothing to do with your family?”
“Would the English king offer Whitfield to Scots who murdered English citizens?”
Claire shrugged. “From what I hear, your father and brothers are violent men.”
Laughter rang in her ear. “Ian, no doubt filling your ears.”
“He’s been truthful in his dealings with me.”
“I doubt that. He’d have to lie to cover his inadequacies.”
“It sounds to me as if you are jealous of your younger brother.”
Niall laughed again. “Surely you jest, for he has been nothing but a pathetic weakling the whole of his miserable life.”
Claire snorted. “Probably because you and your family didn’t train him as you ought.”
“As if we would.”
“Mayhap that is what has made him into the man he is today. One who had to earn his place, developing into the kind of leader that could restore Whitfield.”
“He is nothing but a fool.” Niall kicked his horse, pressing it to run full speed.
Claire’s thoughts ran as fast as the trees and hills rushed past them. She needed to think of a way to give Ian time to catch up. How could she stall again? He’d never let them stop again for sickness or personal needs. What else could she do?
She heaved a sigh. The only thing she could think of would sorely pain her, but she thought of nothing else. Straightening her spine, Claire took a deep breath. She closed her eyes for a moment, willing herself to follow through with her plan.
She bent forward, then reared back with all her might, connecting the back of her head with Niall’s nose. White lights exploded before her eyes. Niall cried out.
The horse faltered. Claire threw herself off the horse. She landed on the ground, which knocked the breath from her. She rolled several feet. Horse hooves sounded around her. As she struggled for air, she braced for the trampling she expected to receive. A horse jumped over her, and bits of grass rained upon her head.
Yelling ensued as she strove to come to her feet. She sucked in precious air. One foot in front of the other. Keep moving. Claire ran the direction they had come. Shouts sounded closer. A shove propelled her forward. She reached out her bound hands to catch her fall, burning her palms as she slid on the ground.
Worn boots surrounded her. Claire knew it had been a futile venture. She pushed up onto her knees and looked up.
Blood smeared Niall’s lower face, his nose bleeding profusely. He raised a hand and slapped her. “You ever try that again and I will beat you senseless.” Niall’s voice dripped with venom.
Claire clutched her cheek and sobbed. Saying anything would only make him angrier. She stared at the man, his face twisted in a snarl, marring any beauty she had once thought he carried. Strange how the heart of a man painted the true picture, creating beauty or ugliness in the viewer’s mind.
Niall grabbed Claire by the arms and yanked her to her feet. He thrust her toward one his guards. “She rides with you.”
Large hands gripped her shoulders, keeping her steady. Once she had her feet under her, the guard seated her on his horse and mounted behind. They were off once again, riding away from home, from her loved ones, from her knight who had cared well for them all. She’d given Ian every chance she could to catch up and free her. If, indeed, he came at all. Claire shook off the thought, knowing his love for the land.
He would come. For his land, he would come.
If not, she was doomed.
Chapter 27
The sun had slipped behind the western horizon and gave the sky a deep orange glow. A brisk wind blew, a welcome relief from the heat of the day. Ian’s horse slowed no matter how much he urged the beast onward. Claire was close; he felt it deep in his bones. Only a little further.
Phillip drew alongside him. “Ian,” he called.
“I ken, I ken, we need to rest.”
“Aye! You shall kill our horses pushing them thusly.”
“We shall use the last of daylight to travel past the next hill and then we will rest the horses.”
They urged their steeds further as the sky darkened. By the time they topped the hill, the sky was lit with stars and a half-moon. If the horses didn’t need rest, he would consider pushing forward. He dinna want to lose any time in their pursuit of Claire. As Ian glanced northward, he caught a glimpse of light several miles away He squinted as he focused his gaze. Could that be Niall camping for the night?
“Phillip, look.” He pointed ahead. “Do you think it is Niall?”
Phillip put a hand over his eyes, as if that would aid his ability to see in the dark. “Possibly, but if so, we cannot take him and his men in the dark.”
Ian wanted to refute Phillip’s words, but couldna do so. He was right. Even with more men than Niall, the darkness would impede Whitfield’s guards’ limited skill with the sword. The wind rustled the leaves of the trees and whipped the grasses surrounding them, which gave him an idea. “What if we stole Claire while they slept?”
Phillip blinked and then gave a snort. “Ian, Claire is not like the sheep we stole from Bardsley. She will likely put up a fight should we try to take her.”
“Listen. The noise from the wind will cover our movements. We could render the man standing guard unconscious and then take Claire while the rest sleep. No bloodshed.” Ian’s fervor grew. The plan could work.
“No bloodshed sounds good, but won’t Claire put up a fight? She wants to go with Niall.”
Ian knew full well she wanted Niall. Her note had made that clear. But he was here to save her from a life she would rue for the rest of her days. “I will obtain her obedience by threatening Niall’s life.”
Phillip shrugged. “It is worth trying. I can get near Niall in case he awakens while you deal with Claire.”
“Very well. I like that plan. We’ll give the horses a rest, and then begin the rescue.” Truth be told, he could use a respite after the long day’s journey.
He and his men tied up the horses and then settled themselves to ease their tired bodies. Ian dozed off and on until the moon rose to its zenith. He woke the others, and they quietly rode their horses until they could smell the smoke from Niall’s campfire. The lookout guard was apparently stoking the fire to keep the wind from blowing it out during the night.
Following their devised plan, Ian, Phillip, and James dismounted and took off their chain mail to enable them to sneak into Niall’s camp quietly. The others would wait—either for their return or to quickly come to their aid if they heard a battle ensue.
Ian and his two men crept through the trees, which were still rustling loudly in the wind. He heard fire crackling and saw the glow of the campfire ahead in an open area. They paused as they saw a guard walking around the perimeter of their camp.
Ian found a large stick. “Let us spread out and hide in the brush while I throw this stick close to the guard. Maybe it will draw the man into the woods. Whoever is closest to him shall hit him on the back of the head.”
Phillip and James nodded and then quietly found hiding places on either side of Ian. Once the guard drew close to their location, Ian threw the stick and hid behind a big bush. ’Twas difficult to see under the canopy of trees blocking the moonlight, but Ian could hear footsteps above the swishing of the leaves above them.
He soon heard a groan to his right, and he shot to his feet. He could make out James leaning over a body on the ground. Well done. Ian motioned to both Phillip and James and then made his way toward the camp.
Once he reached the perimeter of the camp, he searched for Claire. She lay curled on her side away from the fire. Niall slept about twenty paces from her, and the other three guards slept in a large circle around the fire, each about ten to fifteen paces apart. ’Twould not be an easy task, sneaking her out of the camp without notice. But not impossible.
Ian put his finger to his lips and then motioned for Phillip to follow. James would remain at the edge of the camp. He’d be at the ready
should their presence be discovered. Ian crept toward Claire as he continually checked on Niall and his men. He was fortunate that snores filled the air. Covered by the wind that whipped through the leaves and caused the fire to crackle, any noise Ian and Phillip might make would not be heard.
Ian reached Claire and checked to make sure Phillip had reached Niall. He bent over her and quickly placed one hand over her mouth and the other over her bound hands. She started, and he whispered in her ear, “’Tis I, Ian. Be still and quiet or I shall have Phillip harm Niall.”
Eyes wide, Claire gave a quick nod. Ian pulled away his hand, wanting to trust her. Would she scream? Would she fight against him? Instead, Claire’s lips widened into a huge smile. A glorious smile, truth be told. She offered no resistance as Ian quietly helped her to her feet.
A loud pop from the fire caused Claire to jump, and a small sound escaped her lips. One of the guards stirred, his snore stopping its heavy cadence. Ian and Claire both stilled. The fire continued to snap while being whipped by the wind. Ian struggled to keep his breath steady in the face of certain discovery.
The guard didn’t move. Ian looked over his shoulder at Phillip, still standing near Niall. Per their plan, he would remain until they were out of earshot. Ian turned his attention onto Claire. Her feet were bare under her nightdress, so he gingerly scooped her up into his arms and slowly made his way into the tree line.
After they had gotten far away from the camp, they ran to where the rest of Whitfield’s men awaited with the horses. Ian set Claire upon her feet and donned his mail. Once he had armored up, he led Claire to his steed. He slid his hands around Claire’s waist, and she gazed up at him in the moonlight. His breath caught. Her eyes held such trust, such acceptance, he could scarce believe ’twas so. What about the letter she had written? Either it was a forgery, or she had been forced to write it.
He lifted her atop his horse and then settled behind her just as Phillip arrived. The mounted guards split up, some leading the way, while the others brought up the rear. He and Claire were well guarded.
His to Keep: A Medieval Romance Page 23
