“Tell my brother I will be down in a moment.” Seamus nodded and retreated down the corridor.
The click of the latch echoed in the silence. He found a wide-eyed Caroline waiting. In two strides, he bent to retrieve his plaid and belt from the floor. “My men have returned from scouting the area and it is urgent I speak with them.” He explained, as he skillfully rolled himself into his kilt, and stood to adjust the belt around his waist. “I shall return, as soon as they have apprised me of their task.” The disappointment in the rich depth of her eyes caused a twinge of guilt in his chest. It took all his power not to strip out of his plaid and return to her side. Ian placed a hand at the bridge of his nose, as he contemplated shunning his duty. However, duty was something that was bred into him since he was a young lad. Many depended on him to protect what was rightfully theirs. That included Caroline, who he vowed to protect and he hoped by this time tomorrow all would be settled with Moy. Then…he would take her as his wife.
“I shall try not to be overly long.”
“Does this have something to do with the deed in the book?”
“Aye, but do not worry yourself. All will be well, Mo Ghraidh.”
A smile lit across her face, as she said. “I love it when ye call me that, m’laird.”
He bit back a smirk. “Tis that so?”
“Aye.” She teased him with a beguiling grin.
“I will say one thing for ye. Ye catch on quick. I look forward to teaching ye more. I shall return to finish this lesson verra soon.” He leaned down and placed a kiss upon her forehead, and then on the tip of her nose and ended upon her mouth before he retreated through the door.
An hour and two drams of whisky later, Ian made his way back to his chamber and Caroline. When he walked in, he found her curled on her side fast asleep. He did not have the heart to wake her, but nor could he bring himself to leave her side. Carefully, he removed his plaid and slid beneath the covers. Lying on his side, he rested his head in the palm of his hand, and gazed upon the woman who was slowly making her way into his heart. Her dark tresses wrapped around her shoulders and enhanced her skin’s creamy white perfection. “It will not be hard to love ye, lass.” Where did that thought come from? He understood the need to marry her, if only to save her reputation, but love. Was it possible? Could he be falling in love with this woman? Aye, ye could and ye have Ian MacLaine, so stop trying to convince yourself otherwise.
With a finger, he brushed an errant lock away from her forehead, leaned over and placed a kiss on her brow. “Sleep well, Mo Ghraidh. Soon. Very soon, I shall make ye mine, of that ye have my word.” With his mood lightened, Ian drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Two
A warmth ensconced Caroline, as she stirred groggily upon a heather-filled mattress. Her arms stretched overhead, as she rolled onto her back. At the unexpected stabbing pain in her upper arm, she cried out. “Ouch.” She placed a hand at the spot and rubbed up and down to alleviate the ache, and that’s when she saw the leather cord hanging from her neck. At the end was the key carved of bone. The same one she had seen Ian wearing the night he arrived in the twenty-first century.
She must have dozed off before Ian returned to his chamber last night. Why would he have given her the key? There was only one reason anyone would need it…the Tir Nam Famhair. It had lead Ian to the tome…and to her. As fresh memories of her and Ian last night flooded in, a painful burn built at the back of her eyes.
Was this his subtle way of asking her to leave? Her throat constricted at the thought. Kicking back the linen sheets, Caroline scrambled from the large bed. Had she done something last night to make Ian have a change of heart? She had questions and she wanted…no deserved answers.
Caroline grabbed the white chemise from the floor and threw it over her head. Bypassing the torturous corset, she swiped the soft blue gown from the end of the bed and shook the wrinkles out. It would be impossible for her to fasten the tiny pearl buttons on her own, so she did a few and left an opening big enough to slip it over her hips. Even after she stepped into the dress and slipped, her arms into the snug-fitting sleeves a good portion of her back remained exposed.
“Arrrggghh! Somebody needs to invent the zipper soon.” Afraid she would miss Ian, Caroline gave up after doing five more buttons. She needed to know what Ian meant by giving her the key, and deserved to hear his answer face to face.
Caroline hurried to the door and flew into the corridor. The sun was peeking over the horizon, so very few torches in the corridors were lit. She never saw the person in her path, before they collided sending them onto their backside and a stack of cloths into a heap on the floor.
Her eyes widened at the presence of the dark-haired maid that disappeared from her bedroom the previous morning. The maid’s dull, black hair was within the white cap on her head, but the vibrant blue eyes were not easily forgettable.
“I’m so sorry.” Caroline reached out to help the maid off the ground. “This is my entire fault. I didn’t know anyone was out here.”
Brushing Caroline’s hand aside, the maid got up on her own. Caroline bent down and began retrieving the linens that landed on the floor.
“Do not touch that! What I mean is…I will get that m’lady. There is no need for ye to lower yourself to such a…menial task.”
Taken aback by the maid’s tone she froze in place with the worn cloths still clutched to her chest. “Please…call me Caroline. You left so fast yesterday, I never got your name.”
“My name…ummm, tis Betsy. Aye, Betsy. If ye will pardon me, Greer expects me in the kitchen.” Caroline handed her the pile of clothes she picked up. When her hand brushed over the maid’s an electric shock shot through her arm, and for the briefest of moments an image of a shirtless Ian flashed before her eyes. The vision faded, but not before, she got glimpse of a sultry red-haired vixen at his back, and the glint of steel flashed within her hands. Then it was gone.
Betsy’s icy blue gaze held her own for a heartbeat, as Caroline gathered her thoughts. Stumbling upon her words, Caroline was still unsure of what happened. “Well…it’s nice to finally put a name with a face…Betsy.” As the woman scurried away, Caroline realized the maid felt it too. Whatever happened, she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a warning. First, she needed to see Ian, and then she would ask Mo Daol to shed some light on the vision she experienced.
Caroline dreaded the walk down the dark, narrow spiraling staircase that would lead to the great hall. Using her hands, she grasped the rail and took careful steps as she descended. Even before she reached the cavernous hall, she could hear Greer’s orders as they carried up over the stairs. She was relieved when the light from the great hall penetrated through the doorway.
From the arched doorway, Caroline watched as women walked by, each with worry etched upon their faces. Greer tore clothes, as others ran back and forth from the kitchen at a steady pace.
When Caroline approached Greer, the woman lifted her head and put a surprised hand to her mouth. “Dear me, m’lady” Argyll and his men were spotted last night, north of Moy at Craignure. He has gathered a large foot regiment.” Greer shook her head before she went on. “With all that has happened, the morning has gotten away from me. I was going to send Constance to aid ye, but she is still with Delilah at her apothecary.” As Greer explained, she clucked her tongue and took in the condition of Caroline’s gown. Greer directed her to turn around and Caroline stood while the woman spoke and closed up the remainder of her gown. “Neither of them has returned. There is a bit of pottage in the kitchen. Tell cook to feed ye, and when your done we have need of your help making bandages.”
“A foot regiment?” She gave Greer questioning look.
“Aye. At least three scores of men now surround the outlying areas of Lochbuie, and another two scores sit not a hundred yards away. One word from that Sassenach loving earl and they’ll lay siege to Moy.”
“No.” Caroline brought a hand to her chest, as all of Moy’s troubles sun
k in. “I’ll do anything you need, but I need to find Ian first. Is he still here?”
“Aye. Aye. Ian and his men prepare in his study, and has given orders that the woman and children are to remain inside, and that would include ye to, lass.”
“What of the others? The ones that live beyond the walls of Moy? Won’t they be…in danger too?” This social status stuff was for the birds, and she didn’t know if she’d ever get used to it. A human being was a human being and they had a right to feel safe too. “The men that are defending Moy have gathered their wives and children within the keep.”
“How will the others defend themselves? Won’t they….”
Greer raised a hand to halt questions. “The laird has ordered them to the hills. They shall be safe. Argyll’s treachery has nothing to do with the likes of the clan….only Moy.”
Caroline was about to ask why, when Ian’s voice boomed from the hall that led to his study. A few seconds later, several men, all prepped for a battle walked across the expanse and out the door. She waited until the last of his men departed into the bailey, before heading down the corridor. Without knocking, she cautiously opened the door a crack. Inside she saw Ian leaning over his desk, studying the yellowed parchment for the Tir Nam Famhair. Seamus lingered nearby and awaited Ian’s final orders and Tam sat upon a settee sharpening the blade of his sword.
The morning sun had not warmed enough to burn off the mist that hovered above the loch. Even with the two windows uncovered it remained dim within the elongated room. Extra light within the room came from the fire burning in the hearth, and the several candles lit in an iron candelabra near the desk. She could see by the movement in his eyes that he was making a mental note of his plan. Whatever he planned, she prayed it went in his favor. Pain lanced her heart, at the thought of losing him or the people of his clan that she had become so fond of in such a short time.
There would be no sparring in the list for his men today. If swords were drawn, it would be for honor and survival of his clan. Ian already sent Calum forth to ensure the men were in place throughout the trees. Moy’s only natural defense was the loch that surrounded it from the south and east. If an enemy attacked by way of the loch, they would know well in advance.
“Calum is our best archer and will lead the men upon the parapets. As soon as the lookouts have Argyll in sight, they will send warning of their arrival with an arrow into the stockade in the bailey. Seamus, go ensure the remainder of our men are aware of our plan.”
“Aye, Ian.” Seamus slipped an extra dirk into his boot, turned and left. Ian crossed the study and grabbed his leather jerkin from the chair near the fireplace, and walked back toward his cousin, Tam.
“From what Coll and Nat said last eve, Argyll will come from the north. Craignure is less than a half days ride from Lochbuie, and with the earl’s foot regiment in tow, they will stay afoot. Just the same, I have ordered Calum to keep a watch over the loch. I would not have us caught off our guard.”
“Aye.” Tam carefully ran his thumb over the edge of his blade his eyes squinted in assessment.
Ian looked on, deep inside he hoped all would be settled without an altercation. He reached inside the front of his tunic to ensure the brittle parchment was still where he had placed it. He was drawn from his thoughts as the hinges of the door creaked and Caroline appeared.
As she approached, Tam sent her a wink. “Good morrow, lass. Did ye sleep well?” A chuckle followed his words.
Caroline’s cheeks colored at Tam’s unabashed chortle and saved her from having to answer Tam’s question.
“Caroline ye need to be with the other women in the great hall.” He ordered, but did not miss the crushing hold she had on the key.
“Ian, I have to talk to you.” She clasped the key over her heart, as her tongue flicked over her lips, and pleaded with her rich brown eyes.
Jesu, those eyes. They were a gateway to her soul. He could not leave things like this between them, not after last night. When he awoke, he found her soft bottom pressed up against his groin. Somehow, he found the strength to leave her side, and made his way down to the loch. What if he could not settle this dispute between him and Argyll today? Would he have any regrets? Aye. He would.
Ian’s eyes never left her when he said, “Tam, leave us.” “But I’ve not finished sharpening my blade.” Annoyance registered in his voice.
“Now.” His reply was low and unchallenging.
They stood apart, as Tam retrieved his sword and sheathed it at his back and placed his dirk at his belt. When the door’s latch fell into place behind his cousin, he motioned for her to come closer. He took her hand and drew up against him. With no constricting barriers beneath her gown, her soft breasts grazed against his chest. The sensation sent a jolt straight to his groin. He swallowed hard and tried to remember what he wanted to say, but she spoke first.
Last night…?”
“Ye were asleep when I returned.” His finger traced the side of her face from her temple down to her chin. He smiled. “No doubt ye were worn from all your dancing.”
“Oh, that. I promised and you said it was fine.”
“Since we are speaking of promises…ye are not to make any more promises with my men, especially Tam. The philanderer.” He looked toward the door where Tam had exited.
The musical lilt of her laughter filled the small space between them. He drew her chin up and gave her a gentle kiss. Their eyes locked for several heartbeats. They didn’t exchange any words. None were needed, as he closed his eyes and inhaled her flowery scent. She was intoxicating. The sweet honeyed taste of her lips lingered upon his own.
“That earl you spoke of, he is coming here?”
At the mention of Argyll, he pulled away from Caroline and picked up the black-studded jerkin from his desk. He slid his arms into the sleeveless leather jacket that reached his hips, and extended slightly from the shoulders. “Aye. I expect him in a matter of hours.”
Before he could begin the lengthy process of fastening the six buckles, Caroline’s hands went to work securing them. Her teeth bit the right side of her bottom lip, as she concentrated.
When she completed the task, she asked. “Then you’ll give him the deed and everything will be all right.”
He did not know if she was asking or stating a fact, but he would not lie just to protect her feelings. She deserved his honesty. He took a deep breath as he took a wide belt and wrapped it around the outside of his jerkin, and then adjusted his shoulder strap over his back. He had no idea how to respond to her notion. Things could be as simplified as she stated or worse…he could die defending his clan. Either way he would ensure her safety.
Bending over, he checked his hose for his sgian dubh and found the small blade where he placed it earlier. She looked on as he slid his dirk into the sheath at his hip, and expertly slid his broadsword upon his back. In the next heartbeat, he stood before her.
Without removing the key from around her neck, he lifted it and laid it across his palm. “No matter what happens this day…I promise all will be well, lass. Ye told me that ye trusted me, not so long ago. I ask for your trust in this.” He released the key and let it rest below her breasts. His own unexplainable experience with the key proved the legend was true. Caroline’s presence was proof of that. The ancient key carved from the bones of his ancestors held the power. The power to destroy or the power to save. The latter depended on the holder.
“Should anything happen to me…I want ye go to the standing stones and call upon the Tir Nam Famhair.”
She shook her head at his words. Tears pooled at the corner of her eyes. “Don’t ask this of me, Ian…please. I can’t do it. You told me yourself…you felt it too.” Her hand pointed to him and back to herself. “I belong here. We belong here…together. There is nothing back there for me. Only hurt and fear. You told me that and your clan has proven it over and over again these past few days. I belong here. Please, Ian…don’t make me leave.”
He cupped the side
of her face, and she pressed her cheek into his palm. The warm trickle of her tears ran down his wrist and disappeared into the sleeve of his tunic. “Listen to me, Caroline. If I cannot talk any sense into Argyll or Glenlyon, all may be lost and I need to know ye will be safe. I cannot protect ye if I am not here. Tis the only way, lass. Make me this one last promise?” He used his thumb to brush away another tear trailing down her face.
After Caroline took a couple of deep breaths, he pulled her into his embrace and brushed his lips against her hair. Reluctantly, he pulled back.
She clutched the key to her heart and sniffled. The rims of her eyes were red, but she no longer cried. “I promise, but I would have yours, as well.”
“Anything, lass. Ye name it.”
“Come back to me.” Tears pooled in the corner of Caroline’s eyes, before she ran from his study and disappeared before he could answer.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ian stood at the bottom of the stone steps, as at least a dozen men approached on horses. The remainder of Argyll’s soldiers halted outside the line of trees surrounding Moy. As the group drew closer, he did not spy Argyll’s nephew, Damon, among them. How odd? Robert Campbell, Laird of Glenlyon was to the earl’s left, but it was the man on his right that caused Ian to let out a groan. John Dalrymple, Lord Advocate. There was one person whose heart was blacker, and that was Ol’ Clootie himself.
Ian’s step was sure, as he met the men halfway. Seamus and Tam flanked his side. “What brings ye to Moy, Archibald Campbell?”
“Ye know damn well what I seek.” The earl’s face reddened.
He crossed his arms. “I do not recollect, perhaps ye can remind me.” Ian fanned his arm out before Glenlyon and Dalrymple. “As well as these gentlemen what it is ye seek?”
Kissed by the Laird (First Ladies of the Fae Book 1) Page 21
