I Left My Heart in Scotland

by Samantha Holt

  A hand to her mouth, Ceana battled to find words. Tears burned her eyes and a noose of grief encircled her throat.

  Blane heaved a sigh. “I was tracking them to kill them. To ensure they didnae do the same again. I shouldnae have been distracted from my cause. My kin died because I wasnae there that day...and now—” He ended the words on a harsh curse.

  “’Twas nae yer fault. How could it be? Just as it isnae yer fault now. Ye think ye could have killed ten men on yer own?”

  “I know I could.” Something dark and treacherous sat in his tone. It made her shudder. He moved away from her hand. “Get yer people to safety and I’ll ride out. If these men are headed our way, I willnae see yer people suffer too. But they are dangerous men—mercenaries. They fight for no cause but their own and that makes them far more dangerous than men merely fighting for their king.” Blane took her arm before she could turn away. “Whatever happens, dinnae step outside those walls.”

  She nodded.

  “Promise me,” he demanded.

  “I promise,” she replied huskily. When he released her, she grasped her skirts and paused. “Oh Lord. Kate! She doesnae know.”

  “I’ll get her. She’ll be safe. Ye’ll all be safe,” he vowed.

  Ceana longed to fling herself forward and kiss him until he forgot the horrors he’d witnessed and the fear inside her dissolved, but something told her she could not kiss away his guilt. That was something Blane would have to conquer and it seemed he’d have the chance sooner or later. Battle was headed their way.

  Chapter Nine

  Wind whipped through his hair as Blane pushed his mount faster. The lads he’d brought with him were already making their way up the mountain path but he had other quarry to chase down first.

  Kate.

  He drew the horse to a stop in front of the dilapidated cottage and leapt down. Flinging the reins over a post, he strode over to the door and banged hard. The wood creaked and wavered and he feared for a moment the door would cave in. His heart thrashed in his chest, his palms were clammy.

  Hell fire, he should never have stayed, should never have let Ceana get to him. But he had to fall for those wide blue eyes and tempting lips, did he not? He shouldn’t even still be here. Three days, he’d promised her but with no sign of this cousin’s arrival, how could he leave her?

  At least that’s what he’d told himself. Blane snorted and smacked a hand against the door again. In truth, it had little to do with protecting the village and everything to do with sharing her bed. What man could resist a temptress in disguise? Who knew underneath those innocent eyes and that sweet, frail body was a woman who could lure a man to anything?

  “Kate!” he bellowed.

  The door finally opened and a lad, a little older than Kate, blinked up at him. The fair-haired man straightened his shoulders and flexed a hand around the sword at his hip. Though smaller than Blane, the lad was of fair size and fully grown. He understood why Ceana would be concerned about Kate spending time with him.

  “Where’s Kate?”

  Fraser’s brow furrowed. “She’s no’ here. She’s no’ been here for days.”

  He hissed a breath through his teeth. “Damnation.”

  “Is she in danger?”

  Concern sat in the lad’s dark eyes. He couldn’t be sure what he intended with regards to Kate but it seemed Fraser cared for the fiery lass. And that could be useful.

  “Englishmen have been spotted over the ridge. I’ve sent riders out to check on their position and see if they’re headed our way. If they are, danger is afoot. I know these men and they’ll want to take what they can while they’re here.”

  “And ye think they’ll harm Kate?”

  “Aye, and everyone here if they can.”

  Fraser stepped out of the hut, forcing Blane back. “Give me yer mount, I’ll find her.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve to catch up with the lads I sent out. I cannae have them alone out there.”

  “The villagers need ye more, and I know where Kate will have gone.”

  “And if ye come across the Sassenachs?”

  “I’ll cut them down.” Fraser’s jaw remained tight, resolute. He recognised the glint in his eyes as one of a warrior, a man prepared to do anything for those he cared for. Mayhap the lad more than lusted after Kate. “I’ll cut them down,” he repeated, “and I’ll bring Kate to ye.”

  Blane drew in a breath. His instinct was to tell him nay, to ride out after her himself. His mind told him otherwise. Ceana wouldn’t be happy about leaving Kate’s fate in the lad’s hands but he did know the lass better.

  “Yer skilled with a blade?”

  “Aye. I have to be. I cannae expect any aid from my clan, not now. Besides,” he released a grin, “’twill no’ be the first time I’ve run into trouble.”

  Blane couldn’t help feel he was meeting a fellow soul here. The warrior in him recognised the warrior in Fraser. Bold, with no thought for their own safety. When he stepped into battle, fear for his life vanished.

  And that gave him cause for concern. “That’s my fear. Dinnae act brashly. ‘Tis no’ just yer life ye’ve to worry on.”

  “Aye. I know. Ye can tell Ceana I’ll protect her sister with my life. I swear it upon my mother’s grave.”

  Blane nodded. “Aye, that’ll about do it. Take the horse, but have care. Dalma’s a wild beast at times. Bring the lads back and find Kate. Then we may have need of yer swordarm.”

  The lad smirked. “I think it more likely Ceana will leave me outside the castle walls to face my death.”

  “She might want to but she’ll have little choice. We will need yer aid.”

  He followed Fraser over to the horse and a sense of begrudging admiration for the man made him grin when he nimbly mounted his steed and settled into the saddle with no difficulty. Even Dalma didn’t protest the new rider. He could tell she understood who was in command here.

  “Ye may have a chance to prove yerself today, Fraser. Dinnae fail.”

  Fraser nodded and urged the horse into a gallop. Blane watched before uttering up a prayer to watch over the lad. He only hoped he was doing the right thing, putting his trust in him.

  Without his horse, he had to sprint back to the keep. The village was already near empty with abandoned baskets and carts left in the middle of the mud. A bucket sat upon the well awaiting someone to carry it over to the animals. He noted most of the animals must have been locked up somewhere by the keep—likely at the rear of the castle. The English would be sorely disappointed when they came upon this barren village.

  Blane only hoped the castle gate held and no one paid the price for their dissatisfaction.

  The gate was still down while several women hastened about. Thick, stifled air greeted him in the castle. The village might only be small but so was the keep, and the women and children filled the hall. He pushed his way through, scanning the room in search of Ceana.

  Where was she?

  A baby wailed in his ear and he winced. Pushing forward again, he found her mother sat by the fire. “Aileen, ye’ll overheat here?”

  She shook her head. “Nay, ‘tis the right temperature for me.”

  “Where’s Ceana?”

  “In the armoury. Ready to defend us all, I think.”

  He bit back a groan. “Stay here,” he commanded and hoped the woman wouldn’t wander off.

  Blane forced his way back through the womenfolk and into the entrance hall. He paused to speak to a woman by the gate. “Is everyone inside yet?”

  “Aye, apart from the lads.”

  “They’ll be back shortly but we cannae leave the gate down.”

  The woman’s eyes rounded. “Ye dinnae mean to leave them outside, do ye?”

  “If the English arrive before they do, they’ll be safer hiding in the hills somewhere anyway.”

  Her throat worked and she nodded. Damn, he hadn’t meant to frighten the lass. Shaking his head at himself, he thrust a finger towards the hall. “Get yers
elf in there. We’ll be wanting to lock up the hall shortly too.”

  She nodded and scurried away, leaving him to haul up the gate. The torches sputtered, swallowing him in a brief blanket of gloom before they came back to life. He sucked in the last rush of fresh air and paused to consider his next moves. Ten men attacking a castle seemed folly, yet it would be clear there were no defenders. If they broke through, they’d only find unarmed women and bairns. Cutting them down would be no trouble for hardened warriors.

  If it came to that, Blane would draw them out. There was a small escape passage that led under the keep and out some distance away. He could come up behind them and take his revenge. Whether he’d survive the confrontation, he knew not, but if he could kill several of them, mayhap they would give up their campaign.

  He let his lips twist into a smirk. Amusing how he’d not thought about survival before. When he’d been pursuing them, his own life had meant little. What did it matter if he lived or died attacking these men, so long as he spilled enough of their blood? But the thought of leaving Ceana alone to defend the keep made bitterness rise in his throat.

  For her, he’d try damned hard to survive.

  Blane pushed open the door to the armoury. Ceana spun, dropping the small dagger in her hand so that it clattered on the stone floor.

  “Blane?”

  How did she know it was him in this light? “Aye.”

  Ceana rushed forward and crashed into him. He staggered, even under the slight weight of her, as unprepared as he was. Two scrawny arms latched about his neck and he wrapped an arm around her waist to draw her to him and used his other to shut the door. His back met the wood when she pressed her lips to his, firm and demanding.

  Blane had no choice but to kiss her back. No choice but to accept the drugging feeling of her mouth upon his. It was as though she’d unleashed an animal within him. All the pounding apprehension that had driven the blood to race through his body turned into heavy desire.

  “I thought ye’d leave us,” she murmured against his lips.

  “Never.” He didn’t know if he meant now or for eternity. It seemed too soon to have that much of an attachment to her but he didn’t take the time to worry on it, not when her body was flat against his, rocking into his hardness.

  “I thought ye’d try to fight them alone.” She kissed the corner of his mouth, and then down to his neck. “I thought ye’d be dead.”

  He groaned at the feel of her small mouth on his skin. Blane didn’t deny the thought had entered his mind. But how could he leave her to defend herself? However, any chance to say as much disappeared like candle smoke when she pushed a desperate hand between them and cupped him.

  “Ceana.” Her name came out like a plea or a prayer, he wasn’t sure which.

  The animal inside him rose again, snarling and wild. He removed her hand and took control. Grasping her rear, he lifted her with ease and she latched her legs around him with a tiny cry. He backed her up to the table and placed her on it. A thin stretch of light slipped in through the arrow loop, highlighting her face. Any remaining sense departed him at the sight of those glistening blue pools gazing up at him.

  “I’m going to take ye,” he warned, aware she couldn’t see the desire on his face.

  “Aye.”

  He came down again, kissing her deep until their breaths were ragged. With one hand, he hitched up her skirts, with the other he fumbled with her bodice to free a breast. She filled his palm, delicate and beautiful. Part of him longed to step back and view her, all wild hair and creamy skin, but the beast inside him needed nothing more than to be buried to the hilt in her.

  The beast won. He cupped her hips and drew her forward. Wet, hot and ready. Blane thrust and she arched her back with a cry. Again. She writhed beneath him. Hard, fast, relentless. He took her much like he fought a battle, except the prize was far sweeter than victory. It was her pleasure.

  And he felt it play out inside her in little ripples of response. Blane saw it on her face. She didn’t close her eyes as some women might and even though she could not see him, he saw everything in those eyes. Each moment of pleasure revealed itself. And in those parted lips and the little furrow between her brows.

  Jaw tight, he pressed harder. One thrust. Another and another.

  “Oh.” She gripped his arms, her nails creating a delightful sting.

  Blood roared in his ears like the snarl of a beast. Close, so close.

  “Aye. That’s it, wildling.” he urged.

  Her body tightened around him and the bite of her nails grew sharper. She threw her head back, forcing him to hook an arm around her back and cradle her while he kept up the pace. Ceana released a cry and he leaned over to bite down on her shoulder. Her body spasmed. His eyes near rolled into the back of his head, such was the pleasure of feeling her body convulse around him. Long seconds passed. Her muscles eased and she became languid—his to use.

  Blane clasped her to him, sliding into her with such ferocity that the table rocked and banged against the wall. A current of ecstasy surged through him and he gave one final thrust. Hot, searing, soul-shattering—his peak claimed him to the point that he forgot everything but the pleasure.

  He spilled inside her.

  Foolishly, he didn’t regret it. Even as he withdrew and tugged down her skirts. Mayhap because if she was with child, he’d not have to leave. Aye, a foolish thought indeed. She might set his soul on fire but their acquaintance was short and he knew nothing of caring for women and bairns, as had been proved.

  Blane went to mutter an apology but she slid forward and clasped him tight. “Thank ye for coming back. I know this ‘tisnae yer fight.”

  “’Tis my fight.”

  He didn’t remind her that he could have saved her from all of this if he’d not been distracted. Hell, he hardly wanted her blaming herself. Ceana had a habit of taking on everything people could throw on those tiny shoulders.

  “Where’s Kate?”

  He eased her back, his hands to her waist. “She wasnae there.” Ceana tried to tear back but he held her firm. “Fraser has gone after her.”

  “Fraser? Are ye mad?”

  “I know ye dinnae trust him but he knows yer sister better than I. He said he knows where she’s gone and I believe him.”

  “Blane...”

  “Trust me, Ceana. For once, put yer faith in someone else. He’s a fierce lad and he cares for yer sister. He’ll see her safe.”

  Doubt revealed itself in her pursed lips. “My father exiled him for a reason.”

  “Men make mistakes. God knows, I’ve made many.” A dry smile cracked his face. “Och, I’m still making them.”

  “Ye mean me.” Her hands came to her side and she appeared smaller than usual suddenly.

  “Nay.” Blane drew her close once more. “Spilling inside ye, aye. I shouldnae have put ye in that position. But ye, nay. Ye’ll never be a mistake.”

  She lifted her chin and her gaze searched his face. He had little idea what she saw, if anything, but he kept his face resolute. Aye, he’d made countless mistakes of late, but if he could see them through this and ensure the Sassenachs paid, he wasn’t sure he could regret being distracted by this lass.

  Chapter Ten

  Some relief filled Ceana when the rest of the lads returned. But there was still no sign of Kate. Heaviness weighted her heart. She watched the boys filter into the hall and move up to defence positions. She shook her head to herself. They had lads doing men’s jobs. This wasn’t fair.

  Ceana patted her mother’s shoulder. “I’m going to find Blane.” She wanted to find out if there had been any word of her sister and to check what the lads had seen.

  “Aye, dear. Ye do that.”

  Her mother seemed oblivious to the danger Kate could be in and for that, she was grateful. She pushed past the women and children crowding the hall, pausing to give reassurance and apologise when she bumped into people. Finding her way across was harder than usual without being able to keep trac
k properly of exactly where she was with her feet.

  She moved into the coolness of the hallway and paused when she heard Blane’s voice.

  “Keep this quiet, stay low. If Ceana—”

  “Blane?” The two figures swivelled toward her voice. He bit back a groan. Ceana came to his side, putting out a hand to find his arm. “What do ye wish to keep quiet?”

  He heaved a breath. “Yer sister...is in the hands of the English.”

  Silence deafened. Her eyes grew wider then she released a tiny puff of sound. Ceana’s legs seemed to give way and Blane grabbed her, held her up against him. Tiny tremors ran through her body.

  “She’s alive?”

  “Aye,” Blane said.

  “The Sassenachs...” Fraser’s voice came out tight, full of anguish. “They have her.”

  Ceana heard the pain there—the sort of pain that rips a man apart. This man loved her sister.

  “I couldnae even get close to her. I dinnae know if they realise how important she is or if they’re keeping her for sport, but they had her bound and surrounded. God’s bones, I should—”

  “Ye’d have put her life at risk if ye’d have tried anything,” Blane told him.

  “We cannae leave her in their hands.” Fraser gave a huff of frustration.

  “I agree, but we cannae leave the villagers vulnerable either.” Blane held her closer.

  “So what do we do?” Her fingers dug into his arm. “Why did ye no’ want to tell me?”

  “Because ye’d have wanted to tear apart those men yerself.”

  She lifted her chin. “Aye, I do.”

  “There’s naught ye can do.”

  “Ye cannae be suggesting we leave her?”

  “I’m suggesting we dinnae abandon yer people to go after her. Kate is a brave lass. She’ll be fine until we can get her back.”

  She tried to pull away but Blane would not allow it. He seemed determined to give her comfort whether she liked it or not. Ceana released a small sob and burrowed her head against his chest.