by Barbara Bard
“Why are ye sae determined tae get back home? From the way ye describe yer father he disnae seem like a kind man. Are ye sae sure that this is the only path left for ye?”
Catherine nibbled at her meat.
“Father is the only family I have left. I have always wanted to please him. When Harold and I were young, Father only ever paid attention to him. Harold was his great hope for an heir. He wanted to groom Harold into being a fine soldier, warrior, leader, but Harold was always petty and stubborn. It frustrated me no end to see how much attention was given to Harold when I was seen as just a girl. I want to show him that I am capable. I want to show him that I am worthy of his attention. I understand the attention that Harold got as a male, but I am his only remaining child. I wish to show him that he can still hope, and remind him that at least one of his children is alive.”
“And ye think ye can convince him of that?”
“I hope so. But I can only convince him if I am with him. I imagine that having escaped myself will count in my favor. I want to make my father proud. I'm sure that you can understand that.”
“Aye, I can. I want tae make them all proud of me. All I want is tae be remembered as a good man.”
“As youthful as you are, why are you putting so much pressure on yourself? Do you not want to live first? Do you not want to enjoy yourself? Sometimes, Declan, it seems to me as though you are taking the weight of the world upon your shoulders, and that is too much for any man to bear, especially one as young as yourself.”
“I hae always wanted tae be my father's son. I used tae listen tae the stories he would tell me about his time in the war, and he would always warn me about the folly of war, but I wanted tae be just like him. I look around me and everywhere I look I can see proud warriors, men who have made their name and have hunted for glory. I know I can be just like them, but all I need is a chance. Just sometimes I feel like I am lost, like there is nae purpose for me. Sometimes I feel like I am tae young.”
“You sound as though you are impatient for your life to go by,” Catherine said.
“There is sae much more I could dae if I was just a little older, if I was just given a little more respect. Everyone still sees me as a child. I suppose I did myself nae favors by the way I acted, but I want tae change.”
“It's quite ironic to see how different we are. You cannot wait for your life to begin, while I have always been wanting to put it off.”
“What dae ye mean?”
“Part of the reason why I have wanted to prove my father wrong is because I want to convince him that I can choose my own husband. I know he thinks he will make the best choice for me, but his decision will be made based on other factors than my own happiness. The only thing I fear about going home is that I shall have to be married to a man I despise, although it will be pleasing to raise a family. I feel conflicted though. This adventure has shown me that I am more capable than I first thought, and that I could be more than just a dutiful wife. I want my life to have a vivacity of its own, not for its only meaning to come as a result of my ties to another.”
“And if ye could choose yer own husband, what would he be like?”
Catherine's eyes flicked up at him. The fire danced within them.
“Oh, someone refined, a gentleman of course, well-educated. He should be in good social standing, or at least have grand ambitions. He should be kind, well-read, and able to offer me the life I want,” she said.
“Aye, I suppose ye shall nae find that man here,” Declan said, averting his eyes from her. He had somewhat hoped that she would have given a description that was much like him, but it seemed that whatever he thought had passed between them had been wrong.
“And you, what type of girl would you like?”
“A strong lass, one that knows her own mind,” Declan said without hesitation. Conversation settled between the two of them. The fire crackled loudly.
Catherine looked beautiful the way the fire cast her in an amber glow. Out here it didn't seem to matter that she was Sassenach and he was a Highlander. It was only the two of them, and the fire was their only witness. He shifted over to her and sat beside her. She seemed to tense.
“Perhaps, but it would be a life well-lived.”
“Aye, but would ye be able tae dance with him?” he asked. Bringing forth the memory of the feast made her face light up, and she was all the more lovely for it. The sensations and feelings of that night tumbled through him in a hazy burst of happiness. His arms almost moved of their own accord, wanting to feel her again, needing her close to him. It was as though he was seized by an uncontrollable force that could not be halted.
“I thought you disliked the Sassenach and didn't want anything to do with us? I thought you were afraid of our scheming and twisting your minds?” Catherine said in a low voice. Her lips were two rubies, her eyes sapphires. She did not move away from him even though he was getting closer and closer.
“I'm starting tae see the woman in ye more than the Sassenach,” he said, his words leaving on a breath. Then he made the final push forward and his lips were upon hers. She tasted sweet, and a surprised breath washed over him. The yearning kiss gave him something that he hadn't known he'd been missing from his life. As soon as his lips touched hers, he knew that he never wanted to stop kissing her.
Declan's hands ran around the middle of her body, and her hands came through his hair. Her sweet moans were sharp in the night air, and they fell forward, his powerful body laying atop hers. She was soft and lovely, the complete opposite to the world he had been used to, and when he touched her, he felt like a man.
“I am nae a gentleman,” he said with a heaving breath.
“I do not care,” she said in one breath. Catherine staggered back, stunned for a moment. Then, as though seized by some ethereal force, she pulled him down again so that their tongues could dance together. The passion between them burst in a glorious explosion as their bodies entwined. Beads of sweat rested on their skin, but they were scorched by the heat of each other rather than from the nearby fire. In fact, the fire and the rest of the forest surrounding them melted into a netherworld. There was nothing else that mattered other than the two of them.
Declan enjoyed the new sensations and feelings that were coursing through his body. Never before had he experienced anything like this, not even when he had been in the presence of Deirdre. The free-flowing affection was the greatest thing he had ever known, and the fact that he found it in the arms of an Sassenach girl was secondary to him at that moment in time.
He had tried to do his duty before, or at least what he thought had been his duty, and it had brought him nothing but trouble. Now he realized that it was more important to listen to his heart rather than anything else and do what he wanted to do because it felt right, not what he thought he should do based on some idealized principle.
There was an urgency to their kisses. Declan knew well enough that their time together would be short, and it seemed important that the two of them should explore all they could together.
Their breathing became frantic. The two of them shuddered. Declan clamped his eyes shut as he tried to brace himself against the feelings that flooded his body. His hands caressed her gently, tugging at her clothes. She replied to his touch with spreading hands of her own. He wanted her, all of her, and nothing could stop him. He didn't care that she was Sassenach, didn't care that she would leave him and marry some stuffy Sassenach lord. In that moment he didn't care about anything other than the feeling of her writhing body underneath his, and the natural feelings that it seemed so wrong to deny.
“Looks like somebody is putting on a show for us,” a voice said, ripping Declan's mind away from the blissful nature of his embrace.
He turned, face flushed with anger. Catherine gulped in an attempt to compose herself. Before them stood a group of men with cruel looks. There were six of them. Declan glanced with sorrow at the cart, for he had left his weapon there rather than keeping it by his side. How he wish
ed that he had not been so foolish. He should have been more alert to danger, but he had been a fool. There were still many lessons he had to learn, but when he gazed at these men, he wasn't sure if he was going to be alive long enough to learn them.
“What shall we dae with them?” another man said. There seemed to be a mixture of Sassenach and Scottish accents. It was strange to see the two of them working together, but they had been strange bedfellows before.
“We'll take them back with us. They may fetch a pretty price,” the first man said.
“You shall do no such thing!” Catherine said, standing erect. It was all Declan could do to not put his head in his hands. Drawing attention like that was never a good thing.
“Oh, and why is that?” the man said, looking amused at Catherine's outburst.
“Because I am the daughter of Lord Flynn, and if you harm me you shall meet a grisly end. I assume you have heard my family name?” she said haughtily.
“Oh indeed we have,” the man said with a cryptic look on his face.
“Then I must insist you leave myself and my prisoner alone. I am escorting him back to England where he will face justice for crimes against my family.”
“It's a rather interesting way you have of treating a prisoner. I'm sure that if you are Flynn's daughter, he would be most interested to learn how close you have become with this man. Then again, I highly doubt that Flynn's daughter would be found out in woods like these. Get them tied up and gagged. I have the feeling this one is talkative and I don't want her to give me a headache.”
Declan and Catherine were unceremoniously gagged and tied up, then led to a wagon in which they were placed with barrels of loot the bandits had acquired. Declan knew a little of bandits like these. They traveled between England and Scotland, taking valuable prisoners where they could, but usually ransacking any travelers or merchants.
They were often rarely punished unless they got caught. Neither the Sassenach nor the Highlanders wanted to send a force of men to track down the bandits lest they be confused with a raiding party and begin another war. Declan closed his eyes and let his head drop. It was his fault they were in this mess, and now his cousins would never be proud of him. His plan had been to escort Catherine back to England, not to be presented before her father as a captive.
Not only had he failed to bring Catherine back home, he had also been captured himself, and it was unlikely word would reach Drew or Blair. He was alone, being taken to the land of the enemy.
And yet for all the trouble in which he found himself, the thought that most prevailed in his mind was concern for Catherine, and regret that they had been interrupted when they had been about to embark on something so sweet. He looked at her and wondered what was going through her mind.
Chapter 13
Catherine's mind was a whirl. Captured again, she was at least glad to be returning home, and was sure that once she was presented in front of her father these bandits would get what they deserved. However, she was concerned about Declan. It was a certainty that he would be put into prison when they arrived in England, and there seemed little she could do to prevent that fate.
Her thoughts turned to the moments in which she had been lost in his arms. It had all happened so suddenly, and she had not been able to stop herself from enjoying his embrace. It had been totally unexpected, and yet in a way it seemed to follow naturally from the way they had danced together and been together at the feast.
For Catherine, it had been a moment where she could explore a fate other than the one that awaited her. The passion he elicited from her was wholly unique, and left her quite flustered. Even the memory of it sent a thrill shooting through her body.
She hoped that there would be a way out of this captivity, but these hopes were futile. They were barely allowed to stretch their legs, and were only given meager amounts of water. The gags remained in place, so they were unable to communicate with each other or their captives, and that perhaps was the worst fate of all. There seemed to be so many things that Catherine wanted to say to Declan, but there was no chance to say it.
They trundled through the forest for days, waiting for the inexorable fate to reach them. Trees passed endlessly, until they heard from the bandits that they were back in England. Much to Catherine's surprise, she did not feel as much glee as she had assumed she would. Instead, she was more filled with worry about Declan.
Even when she saw her estate rise up over the horizon she was still filled with trepidation. It seemed like an age since she had been within the comfort of her home, but soon her adventure would be over. Her life would begin anew.
The bandits rode into the estate and began to unload their wares. Catherine and Declan were taken forward. Catherine continued to struggle, until they were taken into the main hall. As soon as her father saw her he became enraged at her treatment and demanded for her to be taken.
Lord Athelred Flynn was an imposing man. He was not the tallest of men, but his aura was such that anyone in his midst felt intimidated, and Catherine was no exception.
“My daughter. It pleases me that you have returned unharmed,” he said, his voice as measured as always. He did not rush up to embrace her, nor did he show any sign of elation at her return, but that was just the nature of the man. He rarely showed emotion, rarely let his mask of composure slip. He was so afraid of showing weakness that he often appeared as hard as stone.
“Father,” Catherine said, rushing up and wrapping her arms around him. She was not averse to showing emotion. She stood by his side, eyes flickering towards Declan, worried for his fate.
“What is the meaning of this? Why did you treat my daughter in this manner?” Athelred asked.
The bandits shifted on their feet and looked at each other uneasily.
“Lord, perhaps it may be best for all concerned if you do not ask us that question. I would hate to have to speak ill to a man about his daughter, especially when she is present,” the lead man said.
“Excuse me? What do you mean speak ill?” Athelred said with ice in his voice. When none of the bandits answered him Athelred clenched his fist and narrowed his eyes. It was an expression that Catherine had seen him wear often when dealing with people who frustrated him. Athelred had little time for those he deemed to be wasting his time.
“I asked you a question. If you do not wish to answer me and give me a reasonable response then I shall punish you for daring to treat my daughter in this manner,” he said. The bandits looked at one another, gulping, for they knew how vicious Athelred could be with punishments.
“The thing is, Lord Flynn, when we came upon your daughter and this man they clearly did not know we were there, and as a result we found them in a rather compromising position. Again, I am only repeating what I saw, but it was clear to me that your daughter and this man were in a fond embrace.”
Catherine bowed her head. She could sense the change in her father, and when his gaze fell upon her she tried as hard as she could to avoid looking at him, but it was futile, for her father could always command attention.
Athelred pursed his lips and tapped his finger against his mouth.
“Well, what an intriguing claim. You were right to be hesitant in your speech, for this does not please my ears,” he said, his eyes never leaving Catherine. “Daughter, is there any truth in the words of these men? I would so hate to learn that my only daughter has debased herself by engaging in...intimate activities with a savage,” his words dripped with derision, and this time his gaze did flick away from Catherine to examine Declan, who was still gagged and bound.
Catherine looked at Declan too, wishing that she could do something more for him.
“Now, the way I see it there is a simple explanation which these fine gentlemen have failed to consider. It seems to me quite likely that this man, being one of the northern savages, would have no qualms about forcing himself on an innocent young woman. He is quite a specimen, strong and powerful, I have no doubt that he would be able to pin you to the groun
d. And of course, that is quite a different matter, for the fault would clearly lie with this man. If, on the other hand, my daughter would dare sully our good name by daring to engage in these activities with our sworn enemy, with the men who are responsible for the death of Harold, the fault would lie entirely with her, and she would have to be punished accordingly. Perhaps, my beloved daughter, you would care to shed some light on the matter?” Athelred asked, his cloudy eyes focused entirely on Catherine.
Catherine's heart sank, for she knew that if she spoke the truth she and Declan would both lose their lives, and she was not ready to lose hers just yet. She wished that she was strong, more courageous, but when it came to her father her fear overwhelmed every other feeling in her body. If he thought she had any part in this she would be punished, and she would never have the freedom to help Declan in any way.
“You're right, Father,” she said in a small voice, “of course he forced himself upon me. I would never dare to bring dishonor to our name,” Catherine said.
