Desiring The Highlander

by Michele Sinclair

  The final knot was loosened and she was free. He held her wrists together. “Clasp your hands to appear still bound.” After Ellenor did as he instructed, Dugan whispered, “Now, swing your legs to me. Move slowly so you don’t catch their eye. That’s right. Curl them, as if you are trying to get into a more comfortable position. I’ll hold your hands so they don’t break.” Her bound ankles were finally within his reach and he began working on the knots underneath her skirts.

  Ellenor swallowed. The more she was free, the more she realized just how trapped she was. Only Dugan’s voice was keeping her calm. “You were saying.”

  “Hmm? Oh…yeah. Your husband was the one McTiernay no one expected to marry.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Come now, you have seen him scowl. Women are afraid of him. Hell, men are afraid of…don’t move, one guard is looking at you. Don’t say anything.”

  Ellenor bit the inside of her bottom lip as Dugan pinched her skin as he continued to work the difficult knots. Between her struggles and Dugan’s aid, the rope had chafed her skin raw. She leaned back and closed her eyes, hoping Dugan would talk to her again. Finally, he did. “So, when Cole McTiernay—the hardhearted warrior whose deep hatred of the English is known to every Highland man, woman, and child—comes back with an English bride, only two things can explain it. Forced marriage or love. And it doesn’t take long in your company to know which one it was. There, you’re free.”

  Ellenor immediately moved to reextend her legs when Dugan caught her ankles. “You need to sit where your ankles are covered, milady, until it is time.”

  “You mean when Cole arrives?” she whispered, hoping he would say yes.

  “This has never been Cole’s battle,” came Dugan’s short reply. There was a hard brittleness she had never heard in his voice before. It startled her. “This has always been between Leith and me. He feels I betrayed him and seeks to destroy anything that I embrace. You, Cole, and next will be the clan. Now, when I leave you, I am going to reenter on the other side of the campsite. I’ll meet Leith and pretend that I am joining him.”

  “What if he doesn’t believe you?”

  Dugan gave a small shake of his head. “Doesn’t matter. Either way he’ll gather his men closer, either to welcome me or for vengeance. When he does, you need to run. There is a field behind you. Keep running until you see the rocks next to the cliffs. There is one big one, it’s the only one taller than you. Are you listening?” Feeling her nod, Dugan continued, “There is a cave behind that boulder. Go to it and run deep inside. Do not try to run out of the pass. You will get caught and they will try to kill you immediately if that happens.”

  Ellenor swallowed. “When do I run?”

  “When you hear me holler. That will be your cue. Get up and run as fast as you can. Can you do it?”

  Ellenor’s voice caught in her throat. Flashes of the night her father was murdered flickered through her mind. Of being held and fighting for her life. She had known fear then and conquered it to save her life. She could do so again. She would do so again.

  “Can you do it?” Dugan asked more harshly.

  Still unable to speak, Ellenor nodded.

  “Good. The moon has not risen and the night should obscure their sight of you, but not completely. Run, Lady Ellenor, and God speed be with you.”

  It seemed as if hours had passed before Ellenor saw Dugan’s shadow emerge on the other side of the campfire. His cantor was easy and slow, as if he was in no hurry. She watched him embrace each man as life-long friends and realized that was what they were. The man was caught in a horrible position few ever had to face. He had had to choose between honor and friendship. The price he had to pay for the choice was those he considered family. She wished for Dugan’s sake this could have ended any other way.

  It was still hard to hear, but with only Dugan and Leith talking, she could make out more of their conversation.

  “I’m surprised you’re here. I expected Cole.”

  “Your issue is with me. Not Cole and certainly not his wife,” Dugan said, using his chin to point in Ellenor’s direction.

  Ellenor’s heart sank. It was obvious Leith did not believe Dugan was there to join his cause.

  “Aye, my issue is with you, but maybe if McTiernay were gone, you would remember your old loyalties. And his wife…consider that a bonus. She’s not interested in you and never will be. I’ve watched how you pine after her. You even ran away to the mainland in an effort to remain loyal to your precious laird, but with him gone, she will be all yours.”

  “No, Leith.”

  The conversation was filled with tension, but the men had gathered closer, just as Dugan predicted. All eyes were on the two of them.

  Leith shrugged. “Thought you might feel that way and have decided to claim her myself.”

  A shiver of horror ran up Ellenor’s spine as Leith’s words sank into understanding. She had almost missed her cue to run when Dugan belted out a loud “Never!” Her legs were stiff and unresponsive after hours of being bound. The blood surged through them as she forced herself to stand and then run. It felt as if she was moving in slow motion; her muscles refused to cooperate. Sharp pains shot through her legs with each step as blood surged through her semideadened limbs.

  Past the edge of the light of the campfire, darkness enveloped her. She stumbled but kept moving until the rocks Dugan had told her about were in sight. The one large boulder stood out from the others and she began running toward it. That’s when she heard the crunching footsteps of someone chasing her. Afraid to look back, she urged her legs to move faster.

  It wasn’t enough.

  Something snagged her right arm, halting her run for freedom. Ellenor cringed as the large callused hand squeezed and hauled her up against his chest. The man wasn’t tall, but he was broad and strong and his beard stank of sewage and rotten meat.

  “Leith was right.” The man sneered and Ellenor felt the sharp blade of a sgian dubh against her neck. “Aye, he thought it might be best if someone stayed behind to make sure nothing unexpected passed by and I think he would definitely consider you unexpected.”

  He half dragged, half carried her back to the campsite. As soon as they came in view, Leith broke off his conversation with Dugan and moved to leer at her. Ellenor strained against the bruising grip on her arm and the metal point pressing into her neck dug deeper. She felt her own blood trickle down her throat and between her breasts and ceased struggling.

  “Aye, you better stop, Lady McTiernay.” Leith saw her eyes pop open wide with astonishment. “You recognize me then.” He bent down and placed his cheek against hers to whisper in her ear. She tried to jerk her head back, but he grabbed her chin and held it in place. “I had hoped for something more between you and I, but if Dugan is here, your husband cannot be far behind. I’ll leave the choice to you. Choose me and live or choose your husband.”

  Ellenor curled her upper lip into a snarl. “And die?”

  A sick laugh erupted from Leith’s throat. “Not just die, milady. I intend to roll your lifeless body towards him.”

  “I’m tired. Lying down sounds good so I choose my husband,” Ellenor spit. An instant later her cheek felt as if it were on fire.

  Leith’s reaction had been so fast, she had not been prepared for the sting associated with being slapped. She desperately wanted to show him no fear, no pain, but when he saw the tears trembling in her eyes, a look of immense satisfaction filled his expression.

  “Your lady, Dugan, has finally lost some of her pride,” Leith crooned and stepped closer to his ex-commander.

  Ellenor glanced at Dugan, who was standing unarmed and motionless, just watching the scene unfold. His expression was so devoid of emotion, it was as if Leith had removed everything decent in him, leaving him vacant and incapable of saving himself, let alone her.

  Then she saw Leith nod to the man holding her.

  Ellenor could feel the blade begin to move. He was about to slice her throat, and i
n a moment, she would be dead. Cole would never forgive himself for breaking his promise to her.

  She closed her eyes and suddenly heard a soft swish above her head. The hand holding her tight went slack and the sgian fell from his fingers. Ellenor tilted her head up and saw a long arrow protruding from her captor’s skull just as the broad body fell on top of her, pinning her to the ground.

  Agonizing pain struck her lower stomach as his body collided with hers on the hard earth. Her insides had been split into two and blood was pooling between her legs. Ellenor knew she was losing her baby and cried out for help.

  Her screams blended with others saturating the night air. Metal was clashing in the distance and Ellenor craned her head to see if Cole had come, but it was not Cole fighting Leith. It was Dugan. The crazed look in his eye had disappeared and one of calm determination had taken over. Two bodies lay motionless and the others had disappeared. Only Leith remained and he would not be a victor today.

  The pain in her stomach was growing. In desperation, she began to thrash in an effort to get the man off her. Without warning, the massive weight was suddenly gone and she was being swooped into arms, holding her incredibly tight.

  She was about to renew her struggles when she felt the pressure of warm lips against her forehead that could belong to only one man. Ellenor threw her arms around him. “You kept your promise, Highlander. I knew you would,” she murmured, her voice raspy with pain.

  Metal clanked and Cole snapped his head in the direction of the sound. His face contorted. “Leith is mine,” he said and moved to hand her over to Donald.

  Ellenor grabbed his leine. “No, I need you, and this fight is not yours. It’s Dugan’s.”

  Cole narrowed his eyes. The blue had disappeared, leaving black holes with only pure hatred shining back. “It’s mine. You cannot steal a laird’s wife and plan to kill her without consequences.” And before Ellenor could argue further, Cole was gone.

  Donald placed her on top of Cole’s horse and vanished into the darkness. The battle continued and she slumped against the neck of the horse for balance, trying to remain conscious.

  She couldn’t tell whether it was minutes or hours later when warm, gentle hands picked her up. But she knew it was too late for her and her baby. She heard Cole cry out. He must have felt the blood. It was everywhere.

  A cool wind was on her cheek and she could hear Cole whisper in the distance, “Don’t you leave me. Promise me you won’t leave me, Ellenor.”

  Her green eyes couldn’t focus on his face, but she heard him. He had called her Ellenor. It was the first time Cole had ever called her by her name. She tried to promise but his horse began to move. Then new waves of pain struck.

  The world went black.

  Epilogue

  Ellenor watched as the chubby little boy hesitantly let go of the table leg and took a step. He took another and then another. Pride erupted on his face and he began to clap his hands vigorously at his accomplishment. The dark curls surrounding his face began to bounce just before he fell. A loud “thunk” bounced off the walls as his head hit the carpeted floor. Instead of crying, he crawled back to the table leg and began the sequence again.

  “He has to have an incredible headache,” Ellenor leaned over and whispered to Brighid.

  “Aye, you would think. The first time he fell, I rushed to his side in a panic but he was fine. Never cries, that one. I don’t know whether to be proud or worried.”

  Donald walked over, swept the child up, and tossed him in the air. “Proud! He’s strong, just like me. Aren’t you, son?”

  Squeals of delight erupted from the baby, getting attention from two other dark brown, curly-headed boys, who had been playing in the corner. Both marched over and began to tug on Donald’s plaid, indicating that it was their turn. One by one, he tossed them in the air until he finally relented and got down on the ground to let them crawl all over him.

  Ellenor laughed as she watched the huge Highlander wrestle with the three boys, feigning defeat. “Are you sure, Donald, you don’t want to leave for Laird Schellden’s with the other soldiers? The games are supposed to be quite large this year. If you hurry, you can still catch the men heading down to prove their prowess.”

  “I dare any of them to take on my three sons and come out the victor.”

  “I wonder,” Brighid began, pointing at the four giggling figures, “if he would still be here if we had three daughters.”

  “Aye, I would be,” Donald assured her as he pretended to succumb to the three-year-old’s hold on his arm. The second oldest, who was two, grabbed his calf and held on for dear life as Donald began to swing his leg around in circles. The baby enjoyed falling onto his chest and hearing the loud “oaf” sound Donald made.

  Brighid sighed with obvious happiness. “At one time I never thought I would even have a family, and now in just over four years, I have three boys.”

  Ellenor gave her friend a mocking wink and said, “If you don’t want more, I suggest you keep your hands to yourself.”

  Before Brighid could respond, Donald piped in, unaware of the inside joke between the two women. “Nope. Now, we need to have three girls.”

  Brighid, who was drinking some water, began to choke. “Three?!”

  “I believe the man said three.” Ellenor laughed.

  Brighid gave her friend a frosty glare. “Don’t encourage him!” she ordered and then turned her attention back to her husband. “Can you imagine three more? I’m already going crazy and the only reason I haven’t lost my mind is because of Ellenor. Three more and she really will order us to live back on the mainland.”

  Ellenor shook her head. “Never. I would miss you too much. Besides I need you here. More than you know.”

  Brighid’s mouth twisted humorlessly. She leaned closer to whisper, “So when are you going to let Cole know? You have that same glow you did four years ago, but I have yet to see that silly smile on the laird’s face Donald always wears when he knows I’m expecting.”

  Apprehensively, Ellenor moistened her dry lips. “You’re right, the smile’s not there and it shouldn’t be there. Cole and I agreed to have a small family, and after little Elle was born, he made me promise not to get pregnant again.”

  Brighid let go a soft hoot. “Well, it’s not like you can create a baby on your own. He was there, wasn’t he?”

  Ellenor’s dark golden eyebrows slanted into a frown. “Of course he was. He just…I…oh, how do I tell him? If I recall last time, you saved me the trouble.”

  Brighid threw her hands in the air. “No, dear friend. This time you are on your own. My only advice is don’t wait. Blurt it out. Look, here’s your chance.”

  The door to the Great Hall opened and Cole entered carrying a beautiful little girl with dark brown shoulder-length hair. They were singing, both to a different tempo and both out of key. Halfway across the room, the girl squirmed out of her daddy’s grasp and began to run to the open arms of her mother.

  “Mommy!”

  “Elle, baby girl, I’ve missed you!” Ellenor said, swinging the three-year-old onto her lap.

  A pink lip protruded from the cherub face and her brows puckered in frustration. “I’m not a baby anymore. I’m a big girl.”

  “Not to me. You’ll always be my baby girl,” Ellenor whispered, hugging the child close.

  Little Elle pointed her finger toward Cole. “But Daddy says I am his baby. I don’t want to be a baby. I want to be a big girl.”

  “And you are a big girl, sweetie,” Ellenor reassured her.

  Elle squirmed off the lap and toddled over to where the three boys were examining the scars along their daddy’s arms. “My mommy has the best scratch,” she announced. The boys ignored her. It wasn’t the first time little Elle had talked about the deep scar along her mother’s back. It fascinated her, as did the story of how it happened. Every night she would beg Cole to relay how he had saved her mother from the evil men.

  Ellenor would listen and remember. She ha
d thought she was losing Elle, and almost had, but not from internal hemorrhaging as she had thought that night. She had fallen onto the same knife that had almost sliced her throat. It had punctured her lower back. The healer said it was a miracle she had lived. But she had. And so had little Elle.

  “There lies the fiercest of my guard,” Cole said with a sigh as he watched Donald wrestle once more with his sons. “Who would have thought?”

  “Speak for yourself, laird,” Donald hollered as his boys began to wrestle with him anew.

  “I was smart. I had a daughter and no more,” Cole countered.

  Ellenor swallowed. For the first couple of years when Brighid seemed to always be pregnant and producing nothing but sons, she had wondered if Cole wished he had the same—sons, and many of them. But she only had to see the pride in Cole’s eyes when he looked at his daughter to know he truly was happy.

  “What took you so long? The children have been waiting anxiously for your return. You promised them a ride to the village,” Donald reminded.

  “Dugan,” Cole exhaled.

  Ellenor produced a tight-lipped smile. “What did Dugan need now? I thought he and Henri had a clear vision of how the curtain wall was to be erected.” Once Fàire Creachann had been deemed complete by the master mason, Cole had decided that he and Dugan needed to focus on protecting the mainland village.

  “They both agree that a wall is to be built, aye. But it seems there are many opinions as to how tall it should be and where it should be built. Some cottages will have to move, causing questions as to who should be so unlucky.”

  Ellenor closed her eyes and said, “But you already decided who would have to move.”

  “I didn’t about the crops,” Cole sighed. After four years of being laird, he had learned to deal with the constant pull of clansmen, but he doubted he would ever become accustomed to it. “I never decided just how many villagers could have crops inside the wall and who.”

  “And the verdict?”

  “Ten families and this time I’m letting Dugan decide who they are.”