by Sondra Grey
Copyright 2017 by Sondra Grey - All rights reserved.
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Rogue Highlander
THE LADY SPARROW
By: Sondra Grey
Table of Contents
Main Story
A Captured Heart
Surrendered Love
ROGUE HIGHLANDER
The Lady Sparrow
CHAPTER 1
“A re you sure you don’t want to stay, Miss?” the proprietor stared over his desk at the young woman now tucking the fresh bread and half a roast chicken into her saddlebag. The woman shook her head and secured the tie on the bag. “No,” she said, politely. “I must be going. Thank you for your help.”
“It wouldn’t hurt you to spend the night here,” said proprietor, nervously. “There’s a chance it might storm.” The sky had been threatening rain all day, and while the wind hadn’t picked up yet, he was worried it might soon. Despite her claims at meeting her husband just down the road, the proprietor was relatively certain the young woman had no husband and was travelling alone. Perhaps to find work in the city? Heavens knew what awaited a young woman on her own in Edinburgh. This one wasn’t so pretty as to attract the wrong kind of attention, but still… Had he a job opening he’d have offered it to her. She had a sort of desperate look about her.
“Thank you, but I don’t want to miss my husband,” she said. “He’ll be waiting for me…”
“Just down the road,” the proprietor mumbled. “So you said.”
The woman nodded and took her leave. Her horse, a plain brown mare, was tied out front, and she secured her saddlebags and hefted herself into the saddle with some effort. Kicking the mare into motion, she set back out on the road to Edinburgh.
Annis Black knew it would probably rain on her, but she had another day’s ride until she reached the capital and there wasn’t a moment to lose. The proprietor had been correct in his suspicions. Annis didn’t have a husband. David had died not three months earlier. It was only upon his death that Annis was given leave to look at the books and saw the extent of her husband’s tight-fist. He’d underpaid the tacksmen for years.
After his death, they’d been quick to collect. Annis had tried to appease them. She’d told them that she had money and would petition the King for it. She would pay every one of them back. But they’d ransacked her home, taken what was owed them, and then left, returning – presumably – back to MacDonnell lands. Only Lachlan, Caleb and their wives had stayed to help Annis pick up the manor after the men at arms had ransacked it.
“I understand their anger,” Annis had said, helplessly, sitting in the midst of what had been her home. “But why did they leave? Why did they not trust that I would do something about it, find the money and repay them?”
Lachlan had shaken his head. “This was a good bit of property until your husband got his hands on it. The Camerons will want it back, and they’ve no allegiance to the King. It’s not long before they’ll come to claim your husband’s land as part of their ancestral right. The MacDonnell men aren’t going to fight and lose their lives for a laird they were never loyal to.” It was Lachlan who’d had her write and ask King for men to help protect her property. And they’d both been shocked when, not only did James not send men, he bid Annis come to Edinburgh.
“Doesn’t he know that the Camerons will come down the minute you’re not here,” Caleb had asked, incredulous. It was why Annis had left in the dead of night and by herself. At least with Lachlan and Caleb there, the manor would seem occupied. Lachlan’s wife, Elise, who was about Annis’ size, had put on the woman’s clothes and was currently tending the manor and lands, in hopes that this would deter the Camerons from riding in and claiming the territory.
After the tacksmen had gone through the manor, Annis had barely been able to scrounge up enough money to buy food for her journey, let alone room at an inn. So, she’d slept on the roadside, with her horse standing guard and had so far not run into trouble.
But the trip had taken longer than she’d anticipated, and she knew she couldn’t waste any more time. She needed men to guard her land or she’d be left with nothing. She’d present her case to James and, as her guardian, James would send her men. She knew it.
Annis had ridden three hours past Stirling when the winds began to pick up. Beneath her, the placid brown mare began to shift anxiously, nickering and dancing. Annis was no terrible horsewoman and she shushed the mare, squeezing with her thighs to try and calm the girl. In the distance, thunder cracked. The horse neighed and bucked. Annis kept her seat, hauling on the reigns. “Easy girl!” she commanded. “Calm down. It’s just a wee storm…”
Lightening flashed. Another crack of thunder. The mare bolted. Annis cried out and clutched the back of her mount’s neck as the usually calm and tired horse began to streak, breakneck along the path. Annis tugged at the reigns. “Whoa!” She cried. “Stop! Please Stop!”
But in her panic, the horse was too strong. Thunder crashed overhead, and rain began to pour down, pelting hard against horse and rider. Crack. The horse reared up and Annis scrabbled for purchase and found none. Suddenly she found herself weightless. And just as suddenly, she met the ground with a terrible crash that knocked the wind from her lungs and sent stars shooting across her vision.
For a frightening moment, she couldn’t find air, and when she finally managed to suck it in, she gasped, painfully. The horse was gone.
More thunder, more lightning flashed and Annis shrieked as it forked and seemed to strike just up ahead. She could smell burning and then a terrible crack sounded as a large elm fell across the road just meters ahead.
The wind howled, the rain thrashed so hard it was painful, and Annis nearly sobbed as she tried to get back on her feet and pain shot through her ankle. She had to scoot out of the lane, muddying her dress further. She used a young sapling by the side of the road to help her to her feet and all but fell about twenty feet off the road, where a young beech had spread its leave wide enough to stave off a good deal of the rain.
Annis slumped back onto the ground, tears pricking her eyes at the pain that throbbed in her ankle. She reached back into her now sodden hair and found a lump forming on the back of her skull. She closed her eyes, resting her head gently on the tree. Would she have to walk to Edinburgh now? And how! What if her ankle was broken? She didn’t dare look.
Hopelessness flooded her chest. She’d been so strong when David had passed, she’d suffered his men raiding their home and taking away their worldly goods. She’d managed to ride a full four days on her own, and now – when she was so close to her goal – all had gone terribly wrong.
“Damn!” The curse split the air, nearly as loud as the thunder. A tall, figure and an enormous horse crashed into woods. The man was on his feet, the large horse bucking against the reigns, nearly lifting the man in its efforts to get away.
Thunder cracked, and the horse’s eyes rolled. The creature screamed and tugged, but the man didn’t loose his hold. He jerked the beast into the wood. A flash of lightning illuminated the man: biceps bulging, straining to hold the horse steady, dark gold hair plastered to his face. Another flash of lightning and Annis saw a terrible scar that ran down one cheek, giving him the look of a pirate, or a dangerous rogue. Annis’s startled gasp was swallowed by the wind as it screamed through the woods, shaking the trees.
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Annis could only watch as the man found a fat tree branch low enough to secure the horse. The man struggled with the bucking beast but he finally had knots tight, the horse tied up so that even his pulling wouldn’t undo the reigns.
Annis barely dared to breath as the rider gazed around, eyes landing first on the beech and then on her. Surprise gave way to concern and then, inexplicably, anger.
“God Damn, woman! Were you watching me struggle that whole time!? Could you not rise to lend a hand?”
Annis blinked back shock and shook her head. “No, I can’t…”
She gestured helplessly at her ankle. The man scowled at her and ducked beneath the leaves of the beach to kneel beside her feet. God! He was big. He whipped his sodden plaid off of his shoulder and tossed it on the ground. He wore trews, and a white shirt, and the rain plastered the clothes to him so that Annis could see that every inch of his body was corded with muscle. She couldn’t help it as her eyes raked across the flat planes of his stomach. A few days growth of golden whiskers covered what was sure to be a strong chin, but the hair didn’t grow across the scar. Were it not for the scar that pulled at his left eye, he’d have been devastatingly handsome.
He was a good distraction from her pain. That was, until he grabbed her ankle.
Annis cried out and the man’s grip gentled instantly.
“What on earth did you do to it?” he asked, still angry as he unceremoniously flipped her skirts to her knees. Annis scowled at the impropriety, and tried to struggle from his grip.
“Relax!” he barked. “I need to see if it’s broken.”
She subsided, biting her lips against the pain and allowing him to see the extent of the injury. He grunted as he unlaced her boots and compared the one ankle to the other. “Wiggle your toes,” he commanded. Annis did as he asked.
“Turn your foot right. Good. Now left.”
Annis did that too, grinding her teeth against the sharp ache that rode up her leg. The man then held her left foot in his hand, the warmth of it shocking her. Gently, he ran his fingers across her ankle, pinching here and there and noting where Annis seemed to wince and where she relaxed.
“Not broken,” he said after a moment. And without further ado grabbed her chemise and tore. Annis shrieked and tried to leap away, but the man had a grip on her skirt and so she ended up falling hard on her elbow.
“Oh, will you relax!” he barked. “I’m not going to roger you beneath a tree in the middle of a thunder storm! If I don’t bind that ankle it’s going to swell, and you’ll not have use of it for a month.”
Annis struggled back to sitting and frowned at the man as he finished tearing her chemise and then set about wrapping her ankle. He wrapped it tightly, constricting the blood flow and she winced when he tied the knot.
“Now,” he said, sitting back on his heels and observing her. “How do you come to be on the road in the middle of a storm?”
“I’m travelling to meet my husband,” said Annis, sticking with the story she’d told the innkeepers on the few stops she’d made. “He’s just…he’s up the road a ways…”
“Save it,” snapped the man. “No husband sends his wife on the road to Edinburgh in the midst of a storm. What are you, a pilgrim?”
Annis bit her lip and shrugged.
“Bloody pilgrims,” muttered the man standing to tower over her. “No doubt your mount bolted off. What other injuries did it leave you with?”
“I’m fine,” said Annis, irritably. “I knocked my head and twisted my ankle when I landed. It’s just bumps and bruises. But now…”
Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them back. Sniffing, she tilted her chin. She hadn’t cried when they’d taken everything she owned. She wouldn’t cry now.
“Heading to Rosslyn are you?” said the man. Rosslyn must be where most pilgrims were heading. She nodded. Lachlan had advised that she pretend to be impoverished, lest people try and steal what little she had. She wasn’t sure this man would steal from her, not when he’d helped bind her ankle – but there was no reason to tell him any more than he needed to know. It’s not just the Camerons we need to worry about. But the Macleans as well. They’re king’s men, so I doubt they’ll be as brazen as the Camerons, but we can’t be too cautious. She could hear Lachlan’s voice clearly in her head. Who was to say this man wasn’t connected with either clan?
“I can take you as far as Edinburgh,” he said.
Annis closed her eyes and sank her head back against the bark of the tree. “I’d be much obliged.”
The man grunted, his eyes on his horse, which was still snorting and dancing, tugging against the knots in the reins.
The man seemed content to remain in silence but Annis found herself nervous. “What is it that puts you on the road in the middle of the storm?” she asked.
The man looked at her, lips curling in irritation. “When someone is on the road to Edinburgh, it’s usually because they’re heading to Edinburgh.”
“But to what purpose?” Annis pushed. “Do you live there?”
“Not if I can help it,” the man muttered. He strode out from beneath the beech and checked the knots on the reins again before striding back to her. Annis shivered as the wind picked up. Her clothes should have been warm enough, but sodden as they were…
The man looked at her and Annis could swear he rolled his eyes, before heading back to his horse and sliding the saddle blanket from beneath the saddle.
“Here,” he said, handing the rough wool blanket to her. “Smells of horse, but the saddle kept it mostly dry.
“Thank you,” Annis said, taking the blanket and wrapping it about her, saving the warmth from the horse. The man seemed too anxious to sit. He strode back and forth beneath the beech. He couldn’t be much warmer than her, she thought, staring at the outline of his nipples, puckered against the wet shirt.
She cleared her throat. “It’s large enough to share.”
The man looked down at her, a blond brow raised in surprise. He seemed to appraise her for a moment, eyes taking in her sodden mouse-brown hair, unremarkable features and gently rounded figure, hidden now by the blanket.
“I’m fine,” he said, after a moment, turning back to watch the storm.
Annis sighed, inwardly. Would he have accepted had she been prettier? David had often lamented her lack of beauty. “I suppose I should be grateful for a young, plump wife,” David had said often. “But you are as plain as grey wool and just as inspiring.”
She let the man pace, and could have sworn that he forgot about her. Needing distraction from the pain in her head and in her ankle, she watched him, admiring his figure, his face which – despite the scar – was still incredibly pleasing.
David had been short and stout, and a good thirty years her elder. He’d had an impatient disposition and while he’d never been abusive to her, neither had he been overly kind. Despite Annis being literate and adept with sums, David wouldn’t let her anywhere near the accounts and mistook Annis’ thoughtful silence for stupidity. Throughout their eight years of marriage, he belittled her frequently. Annis was not unhappy that David was dead. In fact, she looked forward to having a marriage where she and her husband were on a more equal footing. She fully intended to marry again, but this time it would be her choice. She would marry someone who wanted her, someone who loved and respected her. And if she could find someone as handsome as this stranger, she wouldn’t mind that either.
She sat there, saying nothing else, and gradually the storm lessened, the thunder fading into the distance, rain subsiding to a consistent spitting mist.
“That’s it, then,” said the man after a moment, eyes still on his horse. “He’s calmed down.” He strode off, untying the creature and leaping into the saddle. For a moment, Annis thought he was going to ride off without her, but he edged his horse to the tree and held his hand out, imperiously.
Annis struggled to rise from sitting, and hissed when she had to put her weight on her throbbing ankle.
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nbsp; Hobbling over to the horse, she reached up and grabbed the pommel, and gasped as the man’s hands grasped her elbows and hauled her effortlessly into his lap. “Swing your legs over,” he commanded. She did, cheeks flaming as she found herself clutched between his thighs, pressed intimately against the pommel. But the man seemed not to notice her discomfort. He clicked his teeth at his horse, and the mount snorted and edged out into the lane.
They rode in silence, and the man seemed entirely happy to keep it that way. Annis was a burden to him, clearly, and while he may have been too much a gentleman to leave her in the lane, he was clearly not interested in speaking with her further. She sighed. She supposed it was just as well. She knew she should be grateful for the aid, but she found herself flustered, intimately aware of the body behind her, of the pulsing heat between her legs.
Annis had been married eight years, but David kept a mistress in Achnanallen, the nearby village. David had tried, during the first years of their marriage, to get Annis with child. But no child had taken. He’d blamed her, of course. He said she was barren. But in all the years David had ridden off to spend nights in Achnanallen, his mistress hadn’t gotten pregnant either.
After their first three years of marriage, David had only ever spent the occasional night in Annis’ bed. He claimed to be put off at her responsiveness. Despite having no real passion for David, Annis had not disliked their lovemaking. Though David wasn’t at all gentle with her, her body had responded to him. “Don’t moan so!” he’d ordered. “God you’re like a bitch in heat!”
Annis had learned to be embarrassed by her urges and she kept them to herself. Now, however, she couldn’t help thinking about the hard, strong body and beauty of the man behind her. Of his hands on her ankles, how he’d tossed up her skirts…
She bit her lip and tried to distract herself.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
