She knew that Broderick would not appreciate her snuggling against him, but his skin, although mostly bare and exposed, was generating delicious heat. So, slowly, she moved against him. Closer and closer until she was practically inside his kilt. She put her hand on his chest, trying to be nonchalant and acting like she was steadying herself, but all the while enjoying the tingling feeling of warmth. Normally, she would sit on her hands to warm them up, but that was not an option.
Broderick would stiffen every time she moved closer. Ginny knew he didn't like her, which was actually an understatement of his true feelings for her and all English folk. He would try to lean further away from her as she would try to inch herself closer. Suddenly, Ian was at their side eying her suspiciously.
“Yes, Laird?” Ginny asked, knowing she was in for something.
Ian looked at Ginny, then looked at Broderick. The look on his face went from disgusted to sympathetic. As usual, the sympathy was not for Ginny. He let out a great sigh and had Broderick stop his horse. Ian reached over, and with little effort, grabbed Ginny and pulled her back onto his horse. Ginny had to admit that she was grateful for the change, but knew she was in for some lecture on decorum or proper behavior. It was almost laughable considering his behavior over the last few days.
Before she could say anything to explain herself, Ian put his arm around her and dragged her back against his body. As with Broderick, Ian was oozing heat from his pores. Ginny leaned her head against his shoulder and relished in the warmth of his body. She was reminded of the books she'd been reading on her vacation about hard, strong bodies. Ian definitely fit that bill, with broad shoulders, well defined chest muscles and a hard six pack. Ginny yawned against his chest and started to fall asleep. She didn't want to be rude, but figured Ian didn't want to speak to her anyway. In no time, she was dozing.
Ian looked down at the top of Ginny's head in wonder. How could she be cold when it was so goddamn hot out. She was nuzzled against him like a kitten on a windowsill on a sunny day. He found it hard to admit that it was quite erotic and even this was turning him on. Ian was well known for his discipline and he found himself losing it for this Englishwoman.
It would all change when they reached his keep. He loathed to admit that he had no idea what he was going to do with her. His people had good reason to distrust the English and would not accept her willingly. She was a great healer, so that might help smooth things over. They were without a decent healer since the elderly woman, Gretchen, had died last fall.
Ian leaned down and smelled her hair. It was fresh, like wildflowers. Being as disciplined as he was, this attraction was absurd. Ian had had women. Many would offer themselves up freely to him whenever he wanted. Lately, with all the extra responsibilities that came with being the chieftain, he thought little about his own needs and hadn't bedded a woman in months. That was the reason he was losing his mind around this girl so often. Once he got back, he reasoned, he would seek out some female attention and it would cure him of this crush. Then he could get back to business as usual.
* Chapter 10 *
Ian nudged Ginny awake as they began riding up the last hill to his village. She woke with a start and almost fell off his horse. Chuckling, he explained, “Ya see the keep on the hill? That's my home.”
“Oh, we're here. Thank God. I will be grateful to get off this horse.” Ginny wasn't kidding. Although she'd fallen asleep riding with Ian, she was stiff and uncomfortable. What she wouldn't give for a hot bath, a good meal and a chance to walk off her leg cramps.
The village that surrounded the keep was filled with small, utilitarian huts. As the warriors approached, many of the clan came out to greet them. Once inside the village, Ian helped Ginny to the ground and dismounted his horse. Pulling the reins, he began to walk the rest of the way to the keep, greeting his clan on the way. The villagers were happy to see them return, with many asking Ian about Aileana. He was polite, but evasive. It would be up to Alec to provide more answers if he was inclined.
Ginny walked behind Ian's horse and to the left. She was looking around and admiring the scenery that she didn't hear the first gasp, followed by several slurs aimed at her. When a small, older woman stopped her, Ginny was taken by surprise. The woman stared at her and asked, “Are ya English?”
“I was rescued by Ian at the keep where Aileana was being held,” Ginny said, sensing that being English around here was not in her favor.
“Dear God,” the woman said, crossing herself as if she were in the presence of the devil. “YAR not welcome here!” And with that, she picked up some mud on the ground and threw it in Ginny's face.
Shocked beyond belief, Ginny could only stand there. The woman began to spit on her until some other villagers came along and pulled her away. Ginny then recognized the litany of curses and slurs being directed at her. What the hell have I done , she thought as more of the villagers began to throw things at her.
Turning her body to protect her head, Ginny felt the rain of objects connecting with her body. It was a good thing she had turned, because a rock narrowly missed her head and hit her shoulder instead. Looking in every direction for a route to escape, Ginny realized she was surrounded and trapped. Her body went into preservation mode and she was about to start fighting back when Ian appeared at her side, picked her up and carried her off on his shoulder. He was screaming at the clan to stop their attack, but they were in a frenzy and would not be so easily put off.
Ginny could still feel rocks hitting her butt and legs, so she kept her arms over her head. Suddenly, there was a roar, much like the battle scream Ian gave before entering the keep in the south. This time, however, it was Broderick. It seemed that no one was going to cross the enormous warrior and the screams, slurs, taunts and rocks suddenly stopped.
Ian ignored his clan and kept going until he had Ginny safely inside the keep. He entered an enormous room and dropped her down. Ginny barely had time to steady herself. She was covered in mud and spit. The shock was starting to wear off and the anger began to set in. She was attacked, without provocation, and Ginny sensed that they would not have stopped until her head was on a pike. With the fear of that possibility, came more anger.
“WHAT the hell was THAT,” she screamed at Ian. Although she knew logically that Ian had saved her, not just this time, but before with the men who kidnapped her, he was the only other person in the room to rail against. Her face was red, she was sweating from the anger and fear, and she needed to release the stress or go mad with it. Unfortunately, Ian didn't understand this.
“Don't yell at me, wench. I dinna spit or throw rocks at ya.”
“No. You just forced me to come to this God awful place, where men throw rocks at women for no good reason. Where it's freakin' cold and smells and where I'm hated.”
Ian looked shocked. Did she really think of his home at God awful? Could she really be mad at him for saving her from certain death if he'd left her behind? This girl needed to learn her place and fast. The sun was setting, so he knew it was time for her to go to bed and cool off before he dealt with her again.
“Ya will come with me, NOW!” he screamed at her, grabbing her arm and dragging her to a small room off the great room. He threw her inside and turned to say, “Ya will stay here until morning, Lady Chatham,” spitting her name out as if it disgusted him to say it. “We will talk in the morning.” And with that, he closed the heavy wooden door and locked it.
Ginny looked around. The room was no bigger than her walk-in closet at home. There was a small window, situated high up the wall that provided little light. She could see some straw in the corner and a blanket on the only piece of furniture in the room, a wooden chair. The room had no bathroom, only a chamberpot in the corner and no where to wash off the spit and mud. This would be a grim night indeed.
Ripping off the bottom of her chemise, Ginny used it to wipe off her face and arms. It smelled so bad, like this room was used for animals. For all she knew, it probably was. Dogs, maybe. She sat on
the chair, shaking from head to toe. If this was a romance novel, it was the worst ever. All the books she read did not have situations as awful as hers.
Looking over the blanket and straw, she couldn't see any fleas, but would she see them in the very little light she had? Ginny wrapped the blanket around herself and laid down on the straw. Exhaustion over took her and she feel asleep. Tossing and turning most of the night, the only sleep Ginny got was filled with nightmarish dreams about her head on a pike.
* Chapter 11 *
The next morning, after getting no sleep, Ginny was in the worst mood of her life. She couldn't remember feeling this bad when her beloved grandmother died. It was worse than defeated, it was utterly glum. She had heard the door being unlocked early in the morning, before there was even enough light to see the door.
Once the sun began to shine into the small window, she decided to venture out. The small room was beginning to feel more like a tomb, where she should have expired during the night. Unfortunately, that didn't happen.
Ginny was grumpy, thirsty, hungry and pissed. A bad combination for anyone to be around. She walked to the great hall of the keep, in search of some water. On the table, there was a pitcher and several goblets. Ginny walked over and smelled the contents of the pitcher. Thank God , she thought as she poured herself some water.
She drank several glasses and sat on the bench of the long table. She was too absorbed in her own thoughts to notice that Ian, Alec and Broderick had all walked into the room. She began to pour herself some more water when Ian scared the breath out her by speaking.
“What are ya doing?” he asked in his usual menacing voice.
Christ, I now have to ask permission to drink some damn water? How much more am I supposed to take? This is medieval! Oh wait, this really is medieval.
Ginny turned to face the men. “I was very thirsty. I found this pitcher with water and was drinking it,” Ginny said in as sweet a voice as she could muster considering her circumstances, her position as a pariah, her lack of sleep, and her current state of uncleanliness.
Ian had about enough insolence from this wisp of a woman. Did she not understand anything of the way things were done. She was not a guest, she now belonged to him and would behave as such. “Who told ya that ya could drink the water?” Ian asked, obviously trying to control his unfounded anger, again.
Ginny stood up. “No one. I assumed it was here for anyone who was thirsty.”
“Ya assumed incorrectly,” Ian face was almost comical. Why would something so innocuous be such a source of contempt.
Ian had been laird only a short time, but had come to expect certain behavior from his clan. It was high time that this Englishwoman learn her place, which was extremely low in his estimation. His only problem was, he still needed to figure out where she would fit in. Now, as on other occasions, Ian realized that he had no idea where she would fit in. The reactions of his clan proved that she would never be accepted. Perhaps it was a bad idea to bring her here.
Ginny had enough. She was about to start freaking out, when all of a sudden, surprising everyone, including herself, she began to laugh. At first, just a giggle. Then it exploded into full blown fits of doubled over laughter. Tears were streaming from her eyes and she could barely breathe. The situation was so ridiculous, she had no choice. She needed to blow off steam and this was infinitely better than freaking out on three men twice her size.
Ian watched her in disbelief. He could feel Broderick stiffen and should do something to quash this rebellion right now before things got out of hand, but Ian was dumbfounded by her audacity. How could she not realize her danger? Could she be that addle-brained not to recognize the level of disrespect she was demonstrating?
Just as she was about to control herself, she looked up to see Broderick coming toward her. She looked him in the eye right before the blow sent her flying to the ground. It took a full fifteen seconds before Ginny realized what had happened. Frankenstein had back handed her. Pain shot through Ginny's face like fire. She couldn't see straight, except for the stars that wouldn't dissipate. A primal anger grew in Ginny's chest, unlike anything she'd ever experienced before in her life. It was one of those scary moments when you realize you could kill someone. Like when a parent sees someone harm her child and knows with absolute certainty that she could easily destroy another human being.
Ginny stood up slowly. She pulled herself to her full height and walked over to Broderick, who, for the first time since she met him, had a smile on his face. He spoke in his usual menacing tone, “Ya'll show respect to your laird.”
“He's not my laird, you overgrown piece of crap.” And before Frankenstein could react, Ginny punched him square in the nuts. Not any punch... Ginny linked her hands together and shot upward with all her strength. Since he was not expecting it, she had a clear shot with no way for Broderick to protect himself.
Broderick was twice her size and easily three times her weight, but Ginny toppled him like shaky house of cards. When he hit the floor, the building shook. She had succeeded in knocking the breath out of him as well as eliminating his chances of bearing children. Thank God there won't be any little Frankenstein's running around , she thought merrily.
Ginny looked at the other two men standing there, gawking at her in amazement. Broderick still hadn't tried to get up. Ginny stepped over his massive frame and stood before Ian and Alec.
“You condone hitting defenseless women in your clan? What kind of beasts are you?”
Alec was the first to regain the ability to speak. “I'm not sure I would call ya defenseless, my lady.”
Ginny turned and left the building, with Ian and Alec still trying to comprehend what had just occurred. Surely this tiny woman did not just bring down one of the biggest and strongest members of the McKenna clan.
* * *
Ginny walked down a small pathway to the lake at the bottom of the hill. She knew that the water would be extraordinarily cold, with their elevation and that was just what she needed. She kept her head high as she walked past the clansmen and women who made their disgust for her quite obvious the day before. Many smiled when they saw the budding bruise on her face.
She sat by the lake and pulled out a small handkerchief from her pocket. She dipped it in the icy water and applied it to her face. Ginny amazed herself by not crying. She began to think she was in a perpetual state of shock and couldn't muster the energy to cry anyway.
Ginny heard giggles behind her and turned to see a group of four girls, not more than fifteen in her estimation. They stared at her with open curiosity. One girl, a beauty with long red hair and striking green eyes began to walk toward her. The girl sat next to Ginny.
“What happened to ya?” the teenager asked innocently.
“I disrespected the Laird and he had his henchman deal with me,” Ginny said as she continued to blot her bruise with the cool compress.
“Why would ya do that?” A good question , Ginny thought. Why do I provoke him so much. I am obviously going to have to learn to live with the situation for the time being, so can't I muster some strength to act the way he wants .
“What's your name?” Ginny asked.
“Maude,” she said keeping her head down.
Damn, it may have been a good name to them, but only brought visions of bad 70's television to Ginny. Ginny smiled and said, “My name is Ginny. Lady Chatham. And I don't know why I did what I did.”
Ginny realized that this girl didn't seem to suffer under the impression that she was there to destroy the clan or carried some fatal disease. Ginny didn't want the girl to suffer by being associated with her. The other clansmen made it quite clear how they felt.
“Maybe you should go, Maude. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble for speaking to the likes of me. Your parents would undoubtedly be displeased.”
“I can see for myself yar not evil. We have good reason to distrust the English, but I dinna think ya alone are responsible for our troubles,” Maude had a good head on her
shoulders and would make a good leader someday, if she weren't a woman , Ginny thought grimly.
The other girls started calling Maude back to them. Ginny and Maude looked up in time to see Ian charging his way down the hill. Great , thought Ginny, here it comes .
Before either girl could escape, Ian was standing above them. “Maude, go home now.”
“Yes, Laird.” Now why couldn't I be more like that , Ginny thought. Just obey, don't think! It would keep me from getting smacked.
Ian crouched down next to Ginny. She could see his powerful thighs under his kilt. To buy some time before the inevitable confrontation, Ginny put her handkerchief back in the water and reapplied it to her cheek. Ginny noticed that Ian smelled good, compared to her surroundings and the other clansmen. He smelled like the outdoors, with a hint of musk. He wasn't hard on the eyes either. Typical romance novel, Ginny thought, the hero smells clean while the rest wallow in filth.
The silence carried on for a while. Ginny figured he was stalling from telling her that he would now have to kill her for her disrespect. Not to mention, it would gain him valuable points amongst the clan that so hated the English. Or was he using a tactic to try to earn a confession from her. Did Ian think that she couldn't withstand a long silence and would start spouting off like a prisoner in an interrogation room. Damn unlikely , she thought to herself.
“Do ya want to explain ya'self?” Ian tried to be gentle. He realized that he had been far too unfair to her. His behavior was unacceptable for a man of his position. Ian wanted to make this work, since Lady Chatham would be staying for a long while.
“Do you really want to hear what I have to say?” Ginny knew she should take another tact with Ian, but she was tired and fed up with all she had dealt with. Ginny's face was like stone, revealing nothing of the warring emotions she was experiencing at that moment.
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