He could easily see the four tents and eight or nine guards patrolling the area. Half of them were obviously sleeping now so they could take a later watch. Dirk was canny to bring so many guards, but Haldane could be equally shrewd.
He glanced at the dark blue sky, seeing a scattering of wispy clouds, a full moon and a few faint stars. Summer evenings had a long period of gloaming and it would not be full dark for a while. Although Haldane was not known for his patience, he’d had to learn the virtue over the past several months since his infuriating older brother had taken over Castle Dunnakeil.
Once Dirk was dead and Haldane had Lady Seona in his possession, he would have everything he wished for—he would be chief of Clan MacKay and Seona would be his wife, as she was always meant to be.
“I like your plan,” McMurdo said, his voice raspy. His black eyes intensified in the dimness. “When I kill him, you will give me what I asked for, aye? What your father promised me.”
“Indeed. The tomb in the church will be yours.” Haldane still didn’t understand why McMurdo was so obsessed with being buried in Balnakeil Church. Sane or not, the man was a devious assassin. His long gray hair and pock-marked, wrinkled skin said nothing about his lethal cunning. The man was like a well-used, ancient sword—scarred and worn but he could still easily get the job done. At least, Haldane hoped he could. McMurdo had not yet succeeded at killing Dirk, despite a couple of attempts. The first time, everyone had thought Dirk was dead, but then he’d surfaced twelve years later. Haldane didn’t want that happening again.
“I want to see his dead body.”
McMurdo grunted. “How about his head on a platter?”
“Even better.” So long as Dirk was well and truly dead, Haldane didn’t care.
Nolan MacLeod slipped up and knelt beside him. “What’s the plan?”
“I’ll take two men with me and head toward the tent where Lady Seona is sleeping,” Haldane said. “You go with McMurdo and kill the guard nearest Dirk’s tent so McMurdo can kill the bastard inside.”
“What about Lady Isobel?” Nolan asked.
“What about her? I don’t care.” Haldane knew Nolan had a bad itch for Isobel. The word was he’d almost raped her, but the lady had bashed him on the head and knocked him out. Haldane could understand his need for revenge, but he didn’t want Nolan botching the whole attack because he wanted retribution. Nolan certainly had no feelings for Isobel, not like Haldane had for Seona.
“What if she is carrying your brother’s heir?” Nolan asked.
Hell, he hadn’t considered that. If she was carrying a male bairn, that child would inherit the baron title and become chief when he grew to manhood. “She’ll have to die, too, then.”
“Nay. I want her,” Nolan said, his eyes gleaming like those of a madman. That didn’t faze Haldane. Several of his men verged on madness.
“Have her then, but make sure you kill her when you’re done with her. I don’t want any of Dirk’s spawn running around.”
Nolan grinned.
“But you’ll have to help McMurdo kill Dirk first. Isobel is in the same tent.”
“My pleasure.”
“I don’t need his help,” McMurdo grumbled, glaring at Nolan. “I can kill that whoreson with my bare hands.”
“I know you can,” Haldane said. “But use your dirk. I always thought it would be fitting that Dirk be killed with the weapon he’s named after.” Haldane snickered.
A half hour later, Haldane, Finlay and Gil slipped closer to the camp. Gil was the best archer he’d ever seen.
“Take out that guard, the one closest to us,” Haldane whispered to him.
Gil hesitated. “I cannot do that. He’s my cousin.”
“Do you think I give a damn? Dirk is my brother and I’d kill him if I had half a chance.” Haldane narrowed his eyes, observing the tent Lady Seona, her aunt, and their maids had disappeared into earlier. Keegan stood in front of it, then paced back and forth. “Looks like I’m going to have to kill my cousin, as well.”
“But you hate Keegan. I’ve never had a quarrel with my cousin. We got on good last time I saw him.”
“If you can’t do the job I’m paying you for, I’m kicking you out.”
Gil had been Haldane’s friend for years, but he was an annoying whiner at times. He needed a fierce kick in the arse.
“You’ve never paid me,” Gil said.
“I didn’t let you starve this winter, did I?” Haldane demanded in a harsh whisper.
Gil shook his head.
“Besides, I will pay you and everyone who’s helped me when I’m chief and wealthy. I’ll make you my sword-bearer. You’ll have a generous income.”
Gil’s eyes widened. Even in the near darkness Haldane could tell he was mulling that over. “Come. Let’s move closer. Once you kill one of the guards, the others may be alerted. I want to be able to make it to Seona’s tent.”
Haldane hunched low and crept through the bushes, Gil and Finlay behind him. McMurdo, Nolan and another man were stealing into the camp from the other side. The rest were entering from the east.
Haldane crouched again and peered from behind the bush. “There now, the guard closest to us is Balfour. No kin of yours, is he?”
“Nay.”
“When I give the signal, you shoot him.”
“Aye.” Gil knelt, nocked the arrow and drew back his bow string.
“After you kill him, shoot Keegan next.”
Chapter Five
Seona awoke to men yelling, a shock of alarm ringing through her. At first, she didn’t know where she was, then she remembered being inside a tent. She sat up, listening to the running footsteps, curses and swords clanging outside. Cold fear slid through her. What on earth? Had Haldane attacked? She fingered the knife hidden on her forearm, wondering if she should pull it out.
Beside her, Aunt Patience bolted upright. “What’s happening?”
“I know not. I think ’tis an attack.” Seona crawled forward to peer through the tent flap.
Two blades clashed nearby, sparks popping off them in the near darkness. She could only see the outline of two shadowy figures.
“Haldane!” It was Keegan’s voice. “I’ll kill you. Have no doubt of it.”
God protect us, Seona prayed silently.
More men joined them in battle.
Seona drew back. “Everyone, wake up,” she whispered loudly, grabbing her arisaid to wrap about her. “We may have to flee.”
“Lord, help us. Is it a battle?” one of their maids asked. Someone was sobbing and another of them was praying aloud.
“Aye. Haldane and his band of outlaws have attacked. We must dress and ready ourselves to run,” Seona whispered.
A knife blade sliced through their tent’s fabric over the maids’ heads. Her aunt and the maids screamed as they scrambled toward the opposite side, a couple of them crawling over Seona.
“Remain calm,” she said, pulling her legs free of them.
She couldn’t draw her knife now or she might inadvertently cut one of the other women in such close quarters. They sat frozen in fear as they listened to the sounds outside—men’s angry yells, footsteps thumping, blades clashing.
Someone burst into the dark tent. Seona’s heart felt as if it rammed up into her throat.
The maids shrieked and scrambled backward.
“’Tis me, Keegan. Come, all of you.”
A couple of the maids were crying in earnest now, one of them frantic.
“Calm yourselves!” Keegan commanded. “Lady Seona, where are you?”
“Here,” she said, regaining her breath.
He took her hand and dragged her from the tent. She saw MacMillan and a couple more guards standing outside, holding horses.
“Wait!” Seona said. “I have not—”
“There is no time.” Keegan lifted her onto the bareback horse as if she weighed no more than a child, then, grabbing the reins, he leapt on behind her. He wrapped a strong arm around her and kicke
d the horse into a gallop.
“What about Aunt Patience?” she asked, turning and attempting to look back, but she couldn’t see beyond his shoulder.
“The guards will see to her and the maids’ safety. Dirk told me to slip you away from the battle and hide you.”
Why? Seona wanted to ask, but found it almost impossible to hold a conversation with the horse galloping at such great speed, and her frantic heartbeat keeping the same rhythm. They flew along a trail, opposite the way they’d come earlier that day. Keegan’s arm around her near squeezed the breath from her. But she felt safe.
Moonlight reflected off a wide, sparkling burn that flowed alongside the trail. After a few minutes, Keegan slowed the horse to a trot but kept going. Unexpectedly, he guided the horse into a copse of trees. The fresh scent of pine was strong. The horse walked deeper, his breath wooshing in and out.
After a few hundred yards, Keegan stopped the horse and turned it about. They listened to the silence. No hoof beats approached.
“Were you injured in the fighting?” she asked.
“Nay.”
“Did you kill Haldane?”
“Hmph. He fled like a frightened rat.” Keegan’s arm tightened around her again, tugging her back against the hard wall of his chest. “He’s trying to steal you away,” Keegan whispered, his warm breath stirring her hair.
“What on earth? Why?”
“He said you were meant to be his.”
A shiver of revulsion passed over Seona. The last person on earth she would want to marry was Haldane. “’Tis because of the marriage contract the MacKays had with my father.”
“That cannot be the only reason. I’m thinking he’s greatly smitten with you.”
She was not flattered. Haldane was like a half-grown feral mongrel. She had always hated the way he’d leered at her at the high table or across the great hall. That was before he’d left the clan. Now that he’d turned outlaw, she was certain he’d be a hundred times worse.
“I thought he was trying to kill his brother,” she said.
“Aye, that as well. Two birds with one arrow.” Keegan leapt down, then helped her dismount. He tied the horse’s reins to a small tree. “I want to move you away from the horse in case he makes a noise and alerts the outlaws.”
“Very well,” she whispered.
Keegan lifted Seona, one arm beneath her knees and one at her back. She gasped in surprise, but he ignored her and carried her a few yards away. His warmth felt wonderful against her in the chill night air. When he stopped, he continued to hold her close, as if shielding her with his body.
His fierce protectiveness made her chest ache with tenderness. “I thank you for keeping me safe,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome.”
She wanted to say more, but could think of naught that didn’t sound daft. She would have to keep her thoughts to herself and focus on the danger of the situation. The leaves of the trees provided darkness and cover.
“Is Chief Dirk safe?” she asked, distracting herself from how Keegan’s powerful body affected her in a strangely exciting way.
“I know not, but I’m certain he can take care of himself and Isobel.” He turned his head this way and that, on high alert, listening for any enemy who might approach.
The silence stretched out and, with each moment that passed, she became more and more aware of Keegan’s fiery body supporting her.
“I can stand on my own two feet, you know,” she whispered.
“I thought you were barefoot.”
“I am, but what of it? You certainly cannot hold me the entire time.”
“I don’t mind.” His deep whisper in her ear was sensual and seductive.
Her rebellious body responded to his in shocking ways. Tingles moved from her breasts downward. The only time she’d ever felt like this was when she thought of Keegan in scandalous ways, such as when she imagined him kissing her.
“I insist,” she said, fighting down her disturbing reaction to him. “You cannot wield a sword while holding me.”
“Och. Very well, then.”
When he lowered her to the ground and released her, she missed his warmth. His body had obviously been overheated from the exertion of battle. She tried to ignore the pine needles prickling her feet and the spongy wet ground beneath them.
They stood in silence for a few minutes. An owl hooted in the distance. How far were they from camp?
Seona shivered, her teeth chattering, and she realized she wore naught but an ivory linen smock. Though the material was somewhat thick, the night air was cool. She’d not had time to belt her arisaid about her before Keegan dragged her from the tent. Besides, some of the maids had been sitting on it, and she’d had to leave it behind.
“Och, Lady Seona, you’re cold.”
In the near darkness, the rattle of Keegan’s belt startled her. What was he about? A moment later, a warm wool plaid surrounded her like a blanket. He pulled it around her and attached it beneath her chin with the brooch that had been fastened at his shoulder.
He had disrobed for her? Her face heated. “I cannot take your plaid.”
“Aye, you can and you will. I’ll not have you freezing to death on my watch.” He belted his weapons about his waist again.
“I wouldn’t freeze this time of year.” Though it was May, late spring in the far north of Scotland was much cooler than it was further south, where she’d grown up.
Keegan still wore a long linen shirt that reached almost to his knees, but to have taken his plaid… she couldn’t be so stingy.
“We could share this plaid,” she suggested.
She could only see an outline of him and the dim glow of his shirt in the night, but somehow she knew he was observing her, or trying to.
“I’m plenty warm,” he murmured, his voice husky. He withdrew his sword from the scabbard and turned his head. “Tell me if you hear anything.”
“Very well.” She knew he needed to concentrate on listening for enemies, but the time they had alone was rare and precious. After several minutes of peaceful silence, she felt it safe to whisper, “Earlier, you were going to tell me what you wished for.” She but wanted to know more about him, to learn who he was on the deepest level.
He turned to face her, his breathing close. She perceived his outline in the dim moonlight, but not his features or expression.
“I shouldn’t tell you,” he finally said.
“Why not?” Now, her curiosity was piqued. She wished to know all Keegan’s secrets.
“I’m not sure you would like it,” he murmured in a warning tone.
“Why? Do you wish to be an outlaw?” Could he have such shocking aspirations?
He gave a brief, low chuckle. “Nay.”
“What, then?”
After a long, tense moment of silence, he stepped closer and placed a hand on her shoulder, then ran it into her unbound hair. He drew nearer still, his breath teasing the skin of her face.
“Seona,” he whispered against her forehead, then kissed her there. “This.” Slowly, he kissed her temple, her cheek. “This is what I wish for.”
All the breath left her and she could not draw more in. The kisses on her face created tingles that spread quickly throughout her entire body.
Lightly, he brushed his warm, tempting lips over hers. Her eyes slid closed for surely she had drifted into a dream world.
With his thumb, he gently stroked her face and jaw line. His lips were firm, but at the same time, soft and smooth. The short, rough whiskers on his chin scratched against her tender skin, but it wasn’t painful; it excited her and made her realize how very masculine he was.
His insistent lips compelled her to return his kiss, though she knew not how. She had never been kissed before, but she followed her instincts, pressing her lips against his and mimicking his movements.
“Mmm,” he breathed and kissed her more firmly. His lips nipped at hers, snatching her thoughts and scattering them to the breeze. When he touched the
tip of his tongue to her lips, as if he wanted to taste her, a sound escaped her before she could stop it. Heavens! His tongue felt wicked. She wished he would do it again.
Trying to figure out how kissing worked, she parted her lips. He growled and darted his tongue into her mouth. That sultry move stole the strength from her legs, but she held on around his neck. Her breasts and other, lower, parts of her body tingled with a strange magic. What was happening to her?
Keegan tore his mouth away from hers. “Listen.” He turned his head toward the north.
She held her breath, trying to listen. With her heartbeat thumping in her ears, she could perceive naught.
Finally, she heard it. In the distance, horses’ hooves pounded, louder and louder with each moment that passed.
“Someone’s coming,” Keegan whispered, putting her behind him. The sword in his hand glinted in the faint moonlight, straining through the leaves overhead.
She was glad he’d been paying attention to their surroundings during the kiss, for ’twas almost as if she’d been transported to another world, one where sensation ruled. Her hands trembled as she clutched onto the back of his shirt. Not from fright, but because his kiss had disturbed her so much.
The quick hoof beats drew closer and closer, making her heart thump at the same frenzied pace. Were the outlaws searching for them? She peered around his shoulder.
Two horses galloped past the wood along the narrow trail, a hundred feet away, their silhouettes a dark blur against the moon’s reflection in the flowing stream.
A woman screamed.
“Who is that?” Seona asked, icy fear slicing through her.
A war cry sounded not too far away. Horses neighed.
“What the devil? Get on my back,” Keegan commanded, then leaned down in front of her.
“Nay. Why?”
“Do it, Seona!” he growled low. “’Tis Lady Isobel. I have to help her, but I’m not leaving you here.”
Isobel? Saints!
Seona climbed onto his broad back, holding onto his shoulders. He wrapped one arm around her thigh and, with his other hand, he carried his unsheathed sword. Moving nimbly, he ran through the wood past his horse, weaving among the trees. With the rough pace, she jolted against his back. She could not believe his fearsome strength.
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