Seduction of a Highland Lass mt-2

by Maya Banks

  “Nay, ’Twas my idea and I did the asking,” Gretchen protested. “ ’Tis only fair I go first.”

  “Let her go first,” Crispen muttered. “ ’Twill be her who is killed if ’tis not safe.”

  Robbie grinned. “ ’Tis a sound plan that. All right, Gretchen. ’Tis agreed. You go first.”

  Gretchen stared suspiciously at both boys but gladly took position on the shield that Gannon positioned in the snow.

  “Now hold your skirts tight and don’t let go of the sides,” Christina said anxiously.

  “All set?” Cormac asked.

  “Aye, send me off,” Gretchen said, her eyes wide with excitement.

  Gannon gave her a gentle push, but the polished iron of the shield was slick on the surface and she quickly picked up speed. Soon she was flying along the ground, barely skimming the surface.

  At one point she turned sideways, gave a delighted squeal, and then was able to set herself to rights by using the weight of her body.

  “ ’Tis a clever lass,” Gannon said in resignation. “I’ve no doubt that one day she’ll lead her own army.”

  Christina and Keeley exchanged smug glances.

  Gretchen landed at the bottom, coming to a skidding halt barely inches from one of the large trees that guarded the entrance to the forest. She waved her hand excitedly to let them know that all was well, not that they couldn’t tell that from the broad grin covering her face.

  Dragging the shield behind her, she struggled up the hillside until Gannon went down to help her.

  Crispen was next to go and he shouted all the way down, his laughter ringing over the snow. He spun in several dizzying circles at the bottom before coming to a halt in a particularly deep drift.

  Robbie was next and he howled his displeasure at tipping over halfway down and rolling like a runaway snowball for the rest of the way.

  Thinking it looked like good fun, Crispen and Gretchen threw themselves in the snow and began rolling down the hill after Robbie.

  “Would you like to try it, Keeley?” Gannon offered politely as he pointed at the empty shield.

  Her first instinct was a vehement refusal, but she swore she saw challenge in the warrior’s eyes. Her gaze narrowed and she fixed him with a glare. “You think me too cowardly to try.”

  Gannon shrugged. “It does seem rather fearsome for a slight lass as yourself.”

  Christina choked and covered the sound with rapid coughing.

  “That sounds remarkably like a challenge, warrior, but I have one of my own to make. If I go down the hill without tumbling from the shield, you and Cormac must also attempt it.”

  Cormac scowled. “ ’Tis unseemly for warriors to indulge in child’s play.”

  “Well, if you’re afraid,” she said innocently.

  “Did you question our courage?” Gannon asked incredulously.

  “Aye, I did. What think you to do about it?”

  Gannon threw down the shield and pointed. “Get yourself on it and prepare to be soundly trumped.”

  Keeley rolled her eyes and settled herself onto the cold metal. “ ’Tis so like a man to allow his pride to go before a fall.”

  Before she could say yay or nay, or anything else for that matter, Gannon gave her a mighty shove down the hill. She lurched back and grasped desperately at the edge of the shield and hung on for dear life as the slick metal flew over the ice-covered landscape.

  Oh dear, this was indeed a lot more difficult than it appeared, and she would need all her wits about her to complete the run without taking a huge spill.

  Down the hill the children chanted her name and cheered wildly as she drew near. The problem was she raced right by them and into the trees beyond.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and curled her arms atop her head just as she went flying through the air. She landed with a bounce in a snowdrift and ate a mouthful of snow.

  Thank goodness she hadn’t wrapped herself around a tree.

  “Keeley! Keeley!”

  It was hard to discern who shouted her name. It was a mix of the children and the roars of Gannon and Cormac. She glanced up in time to see the children fast converging while Gannon and Cormac—after instructing Christina to remain where she was—charged down the hill.

  An uneasy prickle raced down Keeley’s nape. Her nostrils flared and she sensed … Her head whipped up just as several warriors charged through the trees, bearing right down on her and the children.

  “Attack!” she yelled. “We’re under attack!”

  Intrigued by the fact that Gannon had fetched an old shield from the pile of armor that needed repairing, Alaric followed after the other man as he trudged up the hill to where the children usually played. Only, no one was there. He knew that Keeley had taken the children to play as Ewan had given Crispen permission for her to do so.

  He quickened his step to follow Gannon and when he reached the rise that Gannon had disappeared over, he saw Keeley, Christina, Cormac, and the children at the next peak. He quickly saw the purpose of the shield when Gretchen plopped down onto it and then went flying down the opposite side.

  With a grin he started the long hike up the opposing side. He hadn’t slid down a hill on a shield in many a year. It still sounded like a hell of a lot of fun though.

  When he staggered to the top, he was shocked to see Keeley settle onto the shield and then Gannon give her a mighty push. One way too big for a lass her size. She went spinning down the hill, out of control and obviously headed for trouble.

  She disappeared into the trees just as Gannon and Cormac turned and saw Alaric standing there.

  The two men started down the hillside at a near run, slipping and sliding along the way. The children had already disappeared into the trees after her, when Alaric started after Gannon and Cormac.

  The men froze when they heard Keeley cry, “Attack! We’re under attack!”

  Not wasting a moment, the three men drew their swords. Cormac shouted back toward the keep in hopes the men would hear, then he snarled at Christina to run for help.

  As soon as they reached the trees, they were met by Robbie and Gretchen who stumbled out, tears streaming down their faces. They babbled incoherently as Gannon caught both of them against him.

  “They have Keeley and Crispen,” Gretchen cried. “You must hurry. They have horses.”

  “Christ’s blood!” Alaric swore. “We’ll never catch them on foot in these drifts.”

  Using their swords for leverage, they rammed through the snow, following the hoofprints as they led farther into the forest.

  Anger and fear beat strongly in Alaric’s chest. He’d nearly lost Ewan’s son before. They’d thought him dead. And now Alaric was faced with not only losing a lad who was dear to the entire clan but also a woman who was more dear to him than any other human being.

  When they rounded the corner beyond a particularly dense settings of trees, the landscape opened up to a wide path through clean snow. To Alaric’s utter astonishment, Crispen jumped from behind one of the trees and threw himself into Alaric’s arms.

  “Uncle Alaric, you must hurry. They have Keeley and they think she’s my mama. They’ll kill her when they know the truth!”

  “How on earth did you get free, lad?” Alaric demanded. For if Cameron thought he held Ewan’s wife and his son, he’d truly have everything Ewan held dear in the world. He couldn’t imagine them simply letting Crispen go.

  “Keeley kicked two of the men betwixt the legs and told me to run. She tried to run too, but the third man, the one who wasn’t rolling around on the snow, caught her by the hair and pulled her back. She screamed at me to go and that she’d never let me throw another snowball in my life if I didn’t heed her instructions.”

  “The lass saved the boy’s live,” Cormac murmured.

  Alaric nodded. “Aye, ’twould seems she has a habit of saving the McCabes.”

  He grasped Crispen by the shirt. “Are you hurt anywhere, lad? I need you to go back to the keep and tell your father what
has transpired here. Tell him we need horses and men. Make sure he leaves enough behind to defend the keep and that Mairin is safely locked away.”

  “Aye,” Crispen said, determination etched into his youthful features. Only now he didn’t appear so young. He looked damned angry.

  “Come,” he ordered Gannon and Cormac. “We continue on foot until the others have reached us on horseback. We must stay on their tracks.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Several long minutes later, Ewan thundered up, leading a horse for Alaric. Behind him, his men trailed, armor on, weapons at the ready.

  Alaric threw himself onto the horse and ignored the scream of protest his side gave at the first time he’d remounted since his injury. Behind him Cormac and Gannon also mounted, while six of his men herded the children into a protective circle and took them back to the keep.

  Not awaiting Ewan’s orders, Alaric charged forward, sending his horse into the drifts. At first the horse struggled but then found his footing and charged over the terrain.

  He followed the sets of hoofprints, his brothers and men close behind him all the while.

  “Have more care, Alaric,” Ewan called. “Could be an ambush.”

  Alaric’s lips curled as he glanced back at his brother. “They thought they’d abducted Mairin. Think you that you would be telling me have more care if it was she who was danger?”

  Ewan grimaced but fell silent.

  “They couldn’t think to get far in this weather. ’Twas a risky abduction,” Alaric muttered as he studied the terrain.

  “Aye. They’re desperate and hoped to strike when we least expected it.”

  Caelen spurred his horse through a particularly deep drift. “We shouldn’t be leaving the keep unattended. ’Tis Mairin and the babe who are all important.”

  In that moment, Alaric would have struck his brother if he were close enough. As it was, it was all he could do not to launch himself across the distance and drag him from his horse. Only the knowledge that for every moment lost, Keeley would be farther away kept him from venting his rage.

  “Enough,” Ewan barked. “Keeley is important to the well-being of Mairin and the babe. We go after her. The keep is well guarded. Only a fool would launch a full attack in the dead of winter.”

  “Cameron has proved he’s a fool tenfold over,” Alaric pointed out. “Let’s find her before it’s too late.”

  Even as he said the words, dread filled his heart. He knew that as soon as it was discovered Keeley wasn’t Mairin, her life would be forfeit. She’d be discarded. Of no use. Cameron was ruthless in his pursuit of his goal and he’d allow no one to slow him down.

  He urged his horse onward, to the point of exhaustion. If their pace was quicker, they’d close the gap.

  “ ’Tis madness for you to be out here,” Caelen growled. “You’re not fit to be riding a horse or going into battle.”

  Alaric stared hotly at his brother, rage bubbling like a cauldron. “If I don’t fight for her, who will?”

  “I won’t leave her to Cameron,” Caelen said. “I don’t understand your fascination with the lass, but I’ll not abandon her to her fate. You should return to the keep.”

  Alaric ignored his brother and pushed onward, snow flying up in great puffs. The longer they spent in pursuit, the more his spirits flagged. It had been an hour. Maybe longer. He had no sense of time. The sun was sinking lower, and soon dusk would be upon them. Any chance of tracking would be gone until torches could be brought forth to continue the search.

  They rode on in silence, their gazes scanning the horizon for any sign of the attackers.

  They almost rode by her.

  Caelen was the one who first spotted the lump in the snow. He pulled up hard, his horse rearing. He’d dismounted and was wading through the snow before Alaric could process what was amiss.

  “Alaric, ’tis her!”

  Ewan and Alaric both slid from their horses, and Alaric’s knees buckled from the sharp pain that splintered through his side. He gasped, yanked his arm against his body, and shoved all but the thought of Keeley from his mind.

  Caelen knelt and began frantically brushing away the snow from her body. Alaric rushed forward and dropped to his knees beside her. He aided Caelen in clearing the rest of the snow from her clothing and then lifted her into his arms.

  “Keeley,” he whispered. “Keeley!” he said louder when she didn’t respond.

  She was cold. Her skin like ice. He pressed his ear to her nose and mouth and relief nearly crushed him when he felt the light brush of her breath.

  He pulled away just enough that he could examine her for injury.

  “She’s bleeding from the head,” Caelen said grimly, as he ran his finger through her hair. “Or she was. ’Tis too cold and the bleeding has stopped.”

  “We must hurry,” Ewan urged. “Her attackers may still be about and it’s growing colder.”

  As Alaric started to rise, she stirred and her features twisted in pain.

  “Keeley?”

  Her eyelids fluttered open and she stared up at him, her eyes dazed.

  “Alaric?”

  “Aye, lass. Thank God you’re all right. ’Tis the truth you scared ten years from my life.”

  “We can’t have that warrior,” she teased. “You may only have a few years left if that’s the truth.”

  Some of the tightness eased in his chest and he felt faint with relief. He squeezed her against him and hurried back toward his horse.

  “I’ll have the whole of the story but not now. We must hasten back to the keep,” Alaric said.

  Wordlessly, Caelen took her from Alaric’s arms and waited while Alaric carefully mounted. Then he held Keeley up for Alaric to take. Further surprising Alaric, Caelen retrieved a blanket from his mount and held it up so Alaric could wrap her in the warmth.

  “Thank you, Caelen,” Keeley uttered in a raspy, weak voice.

  Caelen nodded shortly and then leapt atop his horse and spurred him through the drifts. Alaric fell in behind Caelen while Ewan brought up the rear.

  When they rode over the next rise, they were met by a contingent of McCabe soldiers. They quickly surrounded their laird and his brothers and escorted them back to the keep.

  As soon as they entered the courtyard, Caelen swung down and simply held his arms up for Keeley.

  “I can walk,” she protested.

  Caelen said nothing but neither did he relinquish her. He frowned when Alaric slid down and reached for her.

  “Go ahead of us. You’re in no state to be carrying the lass. You’ll reopen that damn wound when it’s almost healed.”

  Not wanting to argue when Keeley shivered with cold, Alaric hurried inside, leaving Ewan to give orders to his men.

  Caelen barked a series of orders and people scurried in all directions to do his bidding. He carried Keeley into her chamber as several serving women swarmed around him to build up the fire and add furs to the bed for warmth.

  When he lay Keeley on the bed, she shivered from head to toe. Her teeth clattered violently, and Alaric shoved Caelen aside to climb onto the bed next to her.

  Alaric wrapped his arms tightly around her and then directed Caelen to lay the furs over the both of them.

  “C-C-Cold,” she chattered. “S-So c-cold.”

  Alaric brushed his lips over her head. “I know, love. Hold tight to me. We’ll have you warm in no time.”

  “Crispen,” she said in alarm. “Is he safe? Did you find him? And the other children?”

  “Aye, you saw to that. Crispen is well. Tell me, how did you escape, lass?”

  To his surprise, she cracked a smile around her chattering teeth. “They thought me to be Mairin and as soon as they discovered their error, they tried to kill me.”

  Alaric swore. ’Twas as he thought.

  Caelen’s eyes narrowed. “And yet you survived. Were they inept?”

  “Unfortunately for you, they were,” she said dryly. “I know how fraught with disappointment you must
be. But nay, I convinced them that I was a witch and I would curse them and their entire line to eternity if they murdered me.”

  Caelen scowled. “I have no wish for you to die, Keeley. ’Tis not well done of you to suggest so.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  Alaric cut in impatiently. “A witch? And they believed this nonsense?”

  “Aye, well, I’d already caused them considerable pain. I fought them, allowing Crispen to run free. I bit the one who held me before him on his horse. He was already half convinced I was a demon from hell when I threatened to curse him.”

  Caelen chuckled. “You’re an ingenious lass. ’Tis amazing you were able to think so quick on your feet. The men likely ran for their lives.”

  She snuggled farther into Alaric’s arms, her eyes closing.

  “Nay, lass, you must stay awake,” Alaric said in alarm. He glanced frantically at Caelen. “Argue with her. Tease her or make her angry. She cannot fall asleep until we’ve warmed her and tended to her wounds.”

  Concern shadowed Caelen’s eyes. He leaned over to where Keeley lay nestled in Alaric’s arms. “ ’Tis the truth I’m sorry I was nice to you, Keeley. You grow all soft and womanly on me given a bit of kindness. And here I thought you a much fiercer lass.”

  She cracked one eye open and stared balefully up at him. “I have no intention of dying, Caelen, so you may save your insults. ’Tis the truth, though, I prefer you surly, for I know not this man before me. Perhaps ’tis proof I have died and just don’t have the sense to realize it yet.”

  Caelen threw back his head and laughed. “Aye, you’re much too ornery to die, lass. I guess that much we have in common.”

  “God help me,” Alaric muttered. “ ’Tis the last thing I have need of. Two Caelens.”

  “Do you have plans to be nicer to me now?” Keeley murmured sleepily.

  “Only if you stay awake and cease to worry my brother,” he returned. “Alaric looks like a worried mother.”

  “Don’t be nice. It has me thinking I’m dying.”

  Her voice was growing fainter and it worried Alaric. Where were the serving women with the hot water? The warm broth? More blankets and dry clothing?