Highland Rogue

by Dana D'Angelo

  Blane saw their approach. He frowned when Donnell explained his plan.

  “The few able-bodied men cannae defeat the opposing cavalry. The most important thing is tae get the men tae Bracken Ridge, and tae warn the others that the English are coming.”

  “I’ll bring some reinforcements if ye delay too long,” Blane said.

  He didn’t have to remind them that it was dangerous to stay in the deserted village. But she wasn’t certain that an extra two days was enough time for Seamus to recover.

  As Alisha watched the men leave, she felt a heaviness settle over her heart. There was no way to know what the future held. The only thing she could do was to pray for God’s protection.

  “Perhaps this is the last time I’ll see any of them,” she said, hugging her arms to herself.

  Donnell studied her for a long moment, and then he did something unexpected. He put his arm around her shoulder. “Dinnae be afraid. Ye will see them again soon.”

  Her body stiffened at his touch, but she slowly relaxed as she heard the conviction and sincerity in his voice. Though she didn’t want to admit it, his touch comforted her, and she was glad that she wasn’t alone.

  After the troop left the village, the usual din of conversation and activity outside the inn was gone, and an eerie silence ensued. She should have taken Seamus upstairs to a vacant room, but he was too weak to climb the wooden stairs, and she had no strength to carry him. For the time being, it was best to keep him in his pallet.

  “Ma.” Seamus raised his head and looked around as if he were confused. Moisture had formed on his upper lip and his eyes were still bright with fever. It had been like this over the past couple of days where he experienced extreme chills and exhaustion, but his temperature never abated.

  Alisha rushed toward the pallet. Along the way, she picked up the damp cloth that hung on the side of the basin. “Ma, isnae here, Seamus. ‘Tis only me.”

  “I want Ma,” he moaned.

  “I ken ye do, love,” she said, placing a palm on his cheek. “But I told ye, Ma isnae here.” His skin was burning up. With trembling hands, she took the cloth and placed it on his forehead.

  “Is he all right?” Donnell asked, crouching beside her.

  “All this time his fever has yet tae break,” she said, her tone mournful.

  “Have ye examined his wound?”

  “Nay, I havenae,” she said as a streak of cold dread coursed through her body. “I was sae preoccupied with bringing down the temperature that I forgot tae check the laceration.” And Calvin was too busy with the other men that he neglected to remind her to change the dressing on the leg.

  Donnell turned over the blanket, exposing Seamus’s leg. The bandage was still wrapped around it, although there were dark patches of dried blood that stained the white linen. She bit her lip as she watched Donnell unwrap the bandage from the leg. When the fabric was opened, she gasped at seeing the swollen, pus-filled area. She gingerly touched the leg, and Seamus jerked and let out a cry of pain. The area beyond the tear was hot.

  “Has the infection gotten into his blood?” she asked.

  “’Tis possible,” he said. “I’ve seen this kind of infection before. We’ll need tae drain the infected area, and then clean it.”

  “Have ye ever done this?” she asked, wincing at seeing the angry wound.

  “Nay, but if something isnae done, then your brother willnae survive.” He handed his dagger to her. “Heat this knife in the fire and bring it tae me,” he said.

  Alisha sent him a questioning glance and he sighed. “I’ve seen it done on myself and others. The heat will disinfect the blade,” he explained. “’Tis what Calvin did when he cut the arrowhead from your brother’s leg.”

  Reluctantly taking the blade from him, she did as he instructed. She also heated some water. Although she hated the thought of hurting her brother further, it was clear that something had to be done. While she understood the basics of herbal remedies, she was sorely ignorant about wound care. And while she would have liked to spare her brother the surgery, she unfortunately didn’t have any better suggestions to offer.

  A couple of minutes later, she used her tartan to protect her hands, and brought the dagger and bowl of hot water over to Donnell.

  “Will ye be careful nae tae hurt my brother?” she asked. While she tried to sound normal, desperation and fear entered her voice.

  “I dinnae think I can keep that promise,” he said.

  Alisha clutched her hands together, understanding what he meant but still not liking it.

  A calmness fell over Donnell, and he made his first incision. Seamus yelped.

  “Hold him down and dinnae let him move,” Donnell said.

  She did what she was asked, placing her hands over her brother’s chest, pinning him down with her entire body in order to stop him from flailing.

  Donnell quickly drained the wound as if he regularly made these kinds of incisions. Beneath her, her younger brother writhed in agony.

  “Hush, love,” she said. “It’ll be over soon.” She prayed that she told the truth.

  An hour later, the area was completely cleaned, and Seamus was asleep.

  Donnell sat back on the ground with his back to the wall as she found one of the concoctions that Calvin had made. She smeared the paste over the cut. While the surrounding skin was warm, it no longer felt as if it was burning.

  Alisha noticed that the fire was dying and she went to throw another log in the hearth. She would have liked to lie down on one of the beds within the establishment, but she couldn’t allow Seamus to remain in the common area alone.

  “Thank ye for helping my brother,” she said, letting out an involuntary yawn.

  “’Twas the least I could do.” Donnell patted at the spot next to him.

  She walked over, dropped down beside him, and let out another yawn. “I dinnae think I would have been able tae do it on my own.”

  “Ye are tired,” he observed.

  “Aye, I’m tired,” she agreed.

  He reached over and pulled her closer, placing her head on his strong shoulder. “Close your eyes and rest. I’ll keep an eye on your brother.”

  A protective instinct came over Donnell and he wrapped one arm around her slim waist. It didn’t take much on his part to persuade her to lean on him and sleep. As her breathing became deep and steady, he rested his head on hers. If Donnell were smart, he would have left a long time ago. She was stubborn and difficult yet he couldn’t drag himself away from her. He looked down at her alluring face. Her long lashes cast a shadow along her delicate cheek. Raising his hand, he began to stroke her hair. She murmured in her slumber and turned, throwing an arm around his torso, snuggling closer to him. When he made love to her, she had unleashed a passion in him that he didn’t know existed. And now that she was asleep in his arms, tenderness crept into his heart.

  A small truce had sprung up between them, and he resisted the temptation to draw her closer. He wanted to make love to her again, but he didn’t dare act on that impulse. If she woke up and became alerted to his presence, that fragile truce between them might disintegrate in a flash, and she would hate him once more. He couldn’t bear to see the utter contempt reflected in her bonny eyes once again.

  The corner of her arisaid dropped and he pulled it over her shoulder. He started to settle back when her sweet mouth caught his attention. As if she could hear his thoughts, her luscious lips curved. Instantly his body responded, and he wanted to swoop down and capture her lips with his. But he forced himself back, fighting the streak of desire. For his sake and hers, he had to tamp down any amorous feelings he had for her.

  Chapter 17

  With her eyes still closed, Alisha felt a cold draft brushing along her legs. At the same time she felt a heat source near her, and she instinctively snuggled closer to it. The long hours had finally caught up to her, and she just wanted to stay asleep.

  The languid wave of sleep started to cover her once again but then all of
a sudden she felt something heavy settle over her hip. Through her confused haze she thought that it was a hand. But what was a hand doing resting on her body? She opened her eyes only to find herself facing a slumbering Donnell MacKelon. In the next moment the events from last night returned to her. The common room was dim so she knew that it was still dark outside. But even through the dimness she could make out his handsome face.

  Alisha had been so angry with him when they arrived at the village, but she could see now that he really did care about Seamus’s welfare. And perhaps he cared about her as well. She vaguely remembered leaning up against Donnell before she slept, but somehow during the night, he must have set her down on an empty pallet, and lay down next to her. And when the fire died down in the night, she must have rolled closer to him to share in his body heat. But it was now morning. His hand had effectively trapped her in place. If she moved, he would surely awaken, and she would find herself in an even more awkward circumstance.

  But even though she knew that she needed to somehow get out of this position, she wanted to lie next to him. She never had an opportunity like this to study him so closely. His face was relaxed and the lines at the corners of his eyes were gone. His breathing was deep and even, and unlike her, he seemed oblivious to the morning chill. In fact his body heat seemed to seep into her core. It made her feel warm and protected, and she felt something else too. Last night she was too drained to notice anything, but now that she was awake, she was only too aware of his masculine scent, and his hard frame that was pressed to her body.

  But then the comfort and security she felt changed into something else. Her mind raced to the night that they made love. Her gaze slid down to his perfectly chiseled lips. She recalled all too well how they had glided over her skin. A hot flush rolled through her body as it remembered the thrilling sensation. Being this close to him made her want to be closer still.

  She forced down her yearning, but it did little to prevent her body from reacting to his nearness. Alisha felt her nipples harden as her flesh recalled the friction of his torso gliding across her skin. His passion had mingled with her own, leaving liquid heat to pool at her center. She bit down hard on her lip in an attempt to stop herself from moaning at the recollection.

  She took one unsteady breath after another, and tried to eradicate the desire that seemed to grow with every heartbeat. Any moment now the sensation would explode, and she would become consumed by it. Finally after several long minutes, she got control of herself, and began to slowly empty her lungs. Obviously she was thinking too much. Donnell was in a deep slumber, and all she had to do was to ease away from him. She placed her hand on top of his, intending to gently move it away.

  “Where are ye going, lass?” he asked, his voice low.

  Her breath caught in her throat. He was awake. She looked up into the glittering orbs, although she had no idea what was going through his mind. It was at that moment she should have removed herself from him. She should have told him that she didn’t want to be next to him. But she knew that was a lie. Suddenly a compulsion welled up inside of her, and she placed her palm along the side of his cheek. Her eyes traced his masculine lips, remembering how they felt against hers. Giving in to the impulse, she leaned closer and pressed her mouth to his.

  His body stilled, but then when the shock wore off, his hand curved over her hips, pulling her abruptly to him. His body rocked against her until he moved on top of her. Even through the thick plaid, she could feel his erection reaching for her. Her awareness of his primal need caused sharp prickles to run through her frame. This was where she wanted to be. She reached up to thread her fingers through the hair at his nape, drawing him closer still. She felt a slow throbbing at her core, as her body began to hum, as if some electrical current went from his body into hers.

  She brushed her tongue across the seam of his lips until he opened his mouth to her. When she had the access that she craved, she swept her tongue inside, touching, dueling with him. The heat between them intensified, and she let out a whimper that was muffled in his mouth.

  “Alisha?” Seamus called out, his voice echoing in the darkened room.

  Her body stiffened as the sound of her brother’s voice pierced her consciousness. Almost instantly her passion died, and she remembered that her brother lay a few paces away.

  She nudged at Donnell until he rolled off her. He lay sprawled on the ground. Throwing his forearm over his eyes, his breathing came out in harsh rasps.

  “Is everything all right, Seamus?” she asked.

  “I thought I heard something,” he said.

  “’Twas probably just a dream,” she said, getting up.

  She adjusted her skirt and pulled the plaid over her shoulders. Even if she wanted to, there was no way she could return to sleep. Her body was fully awakened, and she couldn’t trust herself from keeping her hands away from Donnell.

  “Can ye restart the fire?” she asked Donnell.

  “All right.” He sat up and went to the hearth. In a matter of minutes, he had the fire going.

  The morning chill caused her to quickly forget her ardor, and she shivered both from the cold and from the realization that the enemy would be mobilizing, and coming steadily closer.

  Alisha found a tallow candle on one of the tables and used the fire from the hearth to light it. Then pulling the arisaid closer around her, she crawled over to her brother. When she got to his side, she saw that he was staring up at the ceiling.

  “How are ye feeling this morning?” she asked.

  “Terrible,” he said, sitting up.

  Alisha placed a palm over his forehead to feel his temperature. “At least the fever is gone, and ye can talk sensibly,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief.

  Her brother appeared weak still, but he no longer looked as if death were about to snatch him away. His recovery was faster than she anticipated, although she was aware that Donnell had a lot to do with it.

  “Let’s inspect that leg,” Donnell said, coming to sit beside her.

  She brought the candle closer to cast light on the lesion. He pulled back the blanket and unwrapped the bandage from the leg. The wound still appeared red but new scar tissue had formed.

  “Seamus should be fit tae travel possibly in one more day,” he said, sounding satisfied.

  Hope filled her heart. Just as before, her younger brother was going to recover from his illness.

  But then an hour later, she found that Seamus was on a quest to test her patience. Now that he was better, he was restless and cranky.

  “Ye were much more agreeable when ye were ill,” she said.

  She had wanted him to fully recover first before she allowed him to walk around.

  There was a sudden rapid succession of footsteps at the door, and before she could ask who that could be, she found young Boyd running inside. He leaned his back against the door, one hand on his chest while he took in ragged breaths.

  “They’re coming,” he said, waving behind him.

  “Who’s coming?” she asked slowly.

  “The enemy,” he said, taking a huge gulp of air. “I saw scouts from the hills. They’re making their way tae the village, and I wanted tae warn ye. They’ll be...” The whinny of a horse sounded in the distance, and the color drained from the boy’s visage. “How did they get here sae fast?” he whispered.

  “Make haste!” Donnell threw a basin of water into the hearth, and then ushered them to the wooden stairs that led to the sleeping quarters. There was no place to really hide, and all they could do was pray that the scouts would bypass the upper level of the inn.

  Alisha could hear voices outside the building as they ducked into an empty room.

  “Go hide,” Donnell said as he shut the door.

  Finding a bench, he lifted it up to wedge it in front of the portal. Then backing a foot away, he withdrew his claymore, and stood at the ready. Seamus disobeyed the orders to conceal himself, and stood beside Donnell, his dagger pulled out.

  “
What are ye doing, Seamus?” she hissed. “Get over here!”

  Donnell looked over at the young man. “Your leg still needs more time tae recover.”

  Seamus opened his mouth to argue, but Donnell shook his head. “Go tae your sister. I need ye tae protect her if need be.

  Seamus let out an irritated sound, and made his way over to the wooden cabinet where the lad and Alisha hid.

  “’Tis well that ye listened tae Donnell,” she said in a low voice. “I dinnae want tae see ye hurt.”

  “I dinnae plan tae get hurt,” he said curtly.

  She examined his mutinous face, and understood that he wanted to be a hero, to prove to everyone present that he could fight. But even if he didn’t consider it, he was too young. At least Donnell had the experience and skill to combat against other seasoned warriors. The chances of Seamus escaping unscathed were very slim.

  Suddenly, they heard voices below.

  “The hearth is still warm,” an Englishman said. “You go check the upper floors. The rest of us will ride around the main street. The Commander wants that bastard.”

  Alisha had a sinking feeling that she knew which bastard the Englishman was referring to. She could hear the heavy footsteps making their way across the lower floor and coming up the stairs. The loud thudding of her heart filled her ears, almost as if it were beating outside her ribcage.

  The floorboards outside of the room creaked and someone pushed at the door.

  Donnell narrowed his eyes in concentration. He quietly sheathed his claymore and pulled out his dagger. Since the bench obstructed the entrance, the man on the other side shoved harder. But by the time the door opened, Donnell had already moved forward. He grabbed the adversary, and pulled him inside. Quickly covering the other man’s mouth, Donnell drew his dirk back and plunged it into the Englishman’s neck.

  Donnell walked toward the door and peeked through the opening. From the vantage point of the bedchamber, he could partially make out the lower level. He strained his ears to hear, but he was met only with silence.