How a Scot Surrenders to a Lady

by Julie Johnstone

  A tall, wiry man with red hair and a hawklike nose, made all the more prominent by his square jaw and ruddy complexion, stood opposite her door. Beside him was a rotund man in the black robes of a priest. The two men immediately stopped talking, and the priest offered a smile that reached his brown eyes. He dipped his head to her in greeting, showing a shiny, bald spot at the crown, which surprised her given the relative thickness of his mop of faded-brown hair. “Ye’re the wee lass found in the woods,” he said, his words slow as if she were of simple mind.

  The man beside him elbowed him. “I told ye she lost her memory, not that she was a clot-heid.”

  Splotches of red appeared on the priest’s cheeks. “Begging yer pardon.”

  She waved a hand at him. “Dunnae fash yerself.”

  “I’m Angus,” the red-haired man said. “Yer guard.” He eyed her pointedly.

  She felt suddenly the way she imagined a thief or murderer who’d been caught would feel. Did that mean she was a murderer, or a thief, or both?

  “I’m Father Murdock,” the big Scot said in a jolly tone. “Dunnae mind Angus. He’s always rather churlish.”

  She smiled at the friendly banter between them and the relief she was feeling. Surely a man of God would help her. She dipped into a quick curtsy. “I’m—” She paused at the name Cameron had bestowed on her. It wasn’t the right name, but she didn’t know what was. “They’re calling me Serene,” she said, lamely.

  Angus tilted his head at her, eyeing her. “The clan is calling ye Serene the Slayer.”

  She flinched at the new information, then anger burst within her. How dare they judge her treacherous before they even knew for certain! Yet, could she blame them? She had no notion if she could be trusted, so how could she expect them to? A very large lump suddenly clogged her throat, and she felt a sudden prick of tears in her eyes, which she determinedly blinked away.

  Father Murdock glared at Angus. “Now why did ye go telling her that?”

  Angus hooked his thumbs into his plaid as he stared at her. “Because I wanted to see how she responded.”

  “And what do ye judge from my response?” she snipped.

  “Ye seemed hurt,” he replied, and her cheeks flamed with the truth of his words. He stared at her expectantly. She could lie, but no matter what she had been in the past, she’d not be a liar presently, nor would she be in the future.

  “I suppose I am hurt,” she murmured. “I dunnae believe—” she hesitated, searching her heart and trying to listen to and judge how the words she wanted to say made her feel “—that I had a hand in killing the king’s mistress.”

  “But ye dunnae ken for certain, do ye?” Angus demanded.

  “Nay,” she admitted reluctantly. “I dunnae ken for certain, but I feel I am not a murderess.”

  Father Murdock surprised her by slipping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her before releasing her. “Take heart, lass. God is merciful even to the worst sinners, if ye will just beg forgiveness.”

  “I dunnae believe I can beg forgiveness for something I’m nae certain I did, Father.”

  He scratched a hand over his cheeks. “Ye make a good point. As soon as ye remember ye must come see me. Now, what brings ye out here into the passage?”

  “Looking te kill someone else?” Angus asked, narrowing his eyes on her.

  “Oh aye,” she drawled. “Since ye asked, that is just what I’m doing. If ye’ll be so kind as to slip yer neck into my hands—” she held her hands up as if she was preparing to strangle someone “—I’ll just choke ye, and Father Murdock here can look on until I’m ready to kill him, as well.” She bit the inside of her cheek on saying more, but she suspected the damage was already done by her loose tongue and hot temper.

  “Ye’re a sharp-witted lass,” Angus said slowly. “The question is, have ye used those wits for evil?”

  “I can nae honestly say,” she replied.

  Angus’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened and closed like a fish on a line. Beside him, the priest burst out laughing.

  “I’ve never seen anyone strike Angus speechless, lass. That’s quite an accomplishment.”

  Angus glared at them both. “Ye should return to yer bedchamber.”

  She quirked her mouth, wanting to say something snippy again but judging it imprudent. “I would like to see Cameron. Do ye ken where he is?”

  “I may,” the man retorted, “but Cameron has more important things to do than to be bothered with ye.”

  She scowled at the man, but showing her irritation would likely not sway him to her cause. She relaxed her features as best she could. “If ye would be so kind as to take me to him, he can be the judge of that, I’m certain.”

  “And why would I take ye to him?” Angus demanded.

  “Because it may be that I am having memories that could help him unravel the king’s mistress’s murder.” It wasn’t technically a lie. She could have memories come to her that would help Cameron if she was around him.

  Father Murdock cleared his throat. “Angus, ye dunnae want to be the reason the lass dunnae get her memory back, now do ye?”

  Angus looked as if he were about to argue that statement, but instead, he clamped his jaw shut, then growled, “Follow me.”

  The man set such a pace that poor Father Murdock could not keep up. Serene stayed by the priest’s side, preferring his friendlier company to that of the snarly Angus. The man trod a good distance ahead of them, looking back at them every now and then to give her an accusing look, as if he suspected she was doing something sinful as she walked with Father Murdock.

  “Dunnae mind him, aye,” Father Murdock said between huge huffs of breath. “He has a kind heart but a gruff exterior.”

  She nodded, the simple words making her feel a bit better. “Do ye ken where Cameron is?”

  Father Murdock nodded. “Since it’s close to the supper hour, he’ll be down at the loch taking a swim. He does so every night before dinner. It dunnae matter if it be winter or summer.”

  “But the waters must be freezing in the winter!” she exclaimed.

  “Aye,” Father Murdock said with a chuckle, “they are. But the man has something to prove, I reckon.”

  She frowned. Why would a man so powerful looking and so seemingly in control need to prove anything to anyone? She thought upon earlier in the healing room. Had there been a strain between him and his brothers? It hadn’t seemed so, truly, but there may have been a slight awareness of something. “To his brothers?” she hazarded a guess.

  “Nay,” replied Father Murdock, his brow dipping into a frown. “To himself, lass. To himself. He just dunnae ken it yet.”

  Not long later, as the loch came into view, Serene paused in her flight down the seagate stairs and stared in amazement at the vast expanse of water. Her response was so strong it made her think she’d never seen such a large body of water. She swept her gaze across the gently lapping water in search of Cameron but did not see him.

  Angus had stopped also and was looking toward the right side of the castle. He turned to her and Father Murdock. “He’ll be swimming around that bend. He likes his solitude.”

  She nodded, expecting him to continue, but the man surprised her by stepping toward her, and saying, “Raise yer arms.”

  “What for?” she asked.

  “I’ll be checking that ye dunnae have a weapon ye’re planning to use.”

  Her jaw dropped open at his words.

  “For the love of God!” Father Murdock bellowed. “Do ye truly believe that Iain and the others would nae have already checked her for weapons?”

  Angus pressed his lips together. “I suppose.” His gaze lingered as if he was still considering searching her, but then he snorted. “I’ll offer my apologies now because I ken this will anger ye, but…,” he said, moving to her once more and running his hands quickly and lightly over her legs, waist, and ankles.

  Her anger was so great she nearly choked as she glared at him. Beside her, Father Murdock
shook his head and murmured, “Ye’re a suspicious old fool.”

  “Say what ye will,” Angus growled, finished, and moved away from her, “but being suspicious has kept me alive all these years. Ye can go see Cameron now,” Angus pronounced.

  “Are ye certain?” she asked, making her voice syrupy sweet while narrowing her eyes on the Scot. “Perchance my hands are weapons.” She raised her hands in the air in front of her. “Perchance I can break a man’s neck with one twist!” She clucked her tongue, and Angus made a derisive noise from his throat.

  “Ye’d nae even be able to get yer hands around Cameron’s neck. He’s that much taller than ye. And I feel sure he’s faster and certainly stronger.”

  The man irritated her, yet she did understand his feelings, which frustrated her and made her want to scream. Instead, she turned and marched in the direction the man had said she would find Cameron. She’d gone ten steps before she remembered her manners for the priest. She swung back around to find both men staring at her. She grasped her skirts and dipped another curtsy. “I hope to see ye again soon, Father Murdock.” To Angus she simply grimaced, to which the priest chuckled.

  “Ye best hurry,” he said. “Supper will be soon, and Iain dunnae abide stragglers to the great hall, especially Cameron, as captain of the guard.”

  Nodding, she hastened her steps down the rest of the narrow stairway, making sure to watch where she was placing her feet. The passage was windy and slick with mist, and when she reached the bottom the ground was covered with rocks. She imagined falling down these stairs could well mean one’s death. She rushed across the rocky shore, struggling to keep her hair out of her eyes as the wind whipped it in her face. A quick glance up showed dark, gathering clouds. A storm was coming.

  The instant the thought left her head, rain fell from the sky as if she had unleashed it. She trudged along the craggy land, her head pounding with each step. Following the shoreline around the bend, the land narrowed, and a hidden alcove of water came into view. Above her and to the right, thick woods loomed from sharp rock. As she drew closer to the water’s edge, she raised her hand to shield her eyes from the rain so she could see better. She gasped at the sight of Cameron MacLeod emerging from the water without a stitch of clothing on his body. Now she knew why he wished for solitude. She had no doubt that Angus had known, too. The man could have told her!

  Her anger fled under her curiosity. She gaped at Cameron. Slabs of muscle on his stomach formed into a vee. There was not an inch of extra flesh on the man. Every part of him was honed for combat, from his thick arms to his Viking legs.

  She was well aware that she should look away, yet she could not. She feasted on him, staring in awe. He moved with swiftness, full of grace and emanating a palpable virility. Her belly tightened with awareness as he came closer, his muscles rippling with each step. She inhaled a sharp breath as he stopped in front of her, shock clear in his eyes. Without a word, he bent down, picked up the plaid she had not even realized was at her feet, and quickly donned it. He slicked back the wet hair from his face, which emphasized the rugged masculinity of his sculpted cheekbones and square jaw.

  Her heart sped at his nearness. He overwhelmed her with his height, muscled build, and the intensity that seemed to radiate from him. Surely, she had been around men before, but she felt certain she had never been affected by one the way she was by this man. She didn’t believe anyone could ever forget such a heady feeling.

  “Ye’re beautiful,” she blurted out. She gasped at her own brazenness.

  His eyebrows drew together, and he looked almost agonized by what she had said. Heat burned her cheeks, neck, and chest, despite the cool rain that was now steadily pelting her. She tried to think of something to say, since she had made herself look so foolish and he clearly was uncomfortable. But then his brow softened, setting into a straight line before a defeated look swept across his face.

  With an audible sigh, he said, “So are ye, lass.”

  Thunder boomed in the sky, and lightning slashed across it in a brilliant show of blinding color. The very air around them seemed to crackle with danger, yet she stood unmoving, feeling protected just by his nearness. When he raked his gaze slowly from her feet to her face and their eyes met, she shivered at the voraciousness gleaming in the green depths. He desired her! It was both shocking and compelling at once. Her lips parted, and she sucked in a sharp breath to steady her pulse. When heat consumed her, she reached behind her head to lift her heavy hair with one hand and she fanned her face with the other.

  Cameron groaned, and she could see a tic start at his jawline. He tilted his face toward the sky for a moment, and she stood entranced at the sight of the rain showering the glorious warrior. When he glanced at her once more, the hunger in his eyes was gone. In its place was undeniable indifference.

  “What are ye doing out here?” he demanded, his cold voice slicing through her composure like a serrated dagger.

  She worried her lower lip. She had vowed to speak the truth. Though there was a large part of her that suddenly did not want to admit that she felt they must be entwined somehow, since her only memories were of him, she could ill afford to speak lies simply to protect her pride.

  “I’ve only two memories,” she said, blinking the rain out of her eyes. “Both are of ye.” Lightning slashed through the sky again, this time so close that she flinched, the hair on the back of her neck prickling.

  Wariness flickered in his eyes, making her discomfort grow, but determination to get answers from him, answers she felt he had, coursed through her. She shoved her sopping hair back, and his eyes fastened on her forehead. “Does it hurt?” he asked.

  “Aye,” she replied, “but it does nae cause me half as much pain as having nary a notion of who I am. What do ye ken about me?”

  Uneasiness danced across his face. “Nae a thing,” he said slowly, “besides the fact that ye were with the group of men who ambushed me and my men and killed Katherine.”

  “I dunnae believe ye,” she growled, then rushed to say more before he interrupted her. “My other memory is of ye standing beside a woman with long, dark hair.” She swallowed hard, shivering with the recollection of the all-knowing eyes. “The woman had eyes that seemed to see into my verra soul, as if she knew a dark secret about me.”

  The only indication that Cameron heard her was a subtle shift of his body away from her. He seemed almost scared of her.

  Icy fear of what his response might mean twisted into her. Dear God above! A hundred possibilities battered her mind at once. “Did we,” she said in a broken whisper, “conspire together to kill the king’s mistress?”

  Five

  Cameron felt his eyes widen and his lips part. Either the lass was the most accomplished liar he had ever met or she truly had lost her memory. His gut told him she was not lying, but he realized his gut might be misleading him, with such strong lust coursing through him.

  “I met ye only once, Serene, and that was the night of the St. John’s Eve festival eight years ago, as I already said. Ye were dressed as a lad, and ye won the competition with cunning. If I wanted to strike at the king, which I dunnae,” he said, vehemently, “I would nae kill a helpless woman to do so. So, nay, I did nae conspire with ye. But it seems, upon thinking about it now, that ye have a history of lying.”

  Such hurt flashed across her face that the wish to be able to take back his words filled him. She opened her mouth to say something, but a blur in the sky alarmed him, and he shoved her behind him as an arrow came flying from the woods and blew by them so near that it whistled in his ear. Furious, he glanced toward the overhanging rock ledge that would provide protection for Serene while he chased down the intruder. He lunged for his sword and dagger, both of which he thankfully had laid close to his plaid. But neither would protect them from arrows. He had to get Serene to shelter.

  “Come,” he hissed. He grabbed her by the hand, and taking care to keep his body in front of hers, he fairly dragged her over the rocky embankm
ent as she struggled to keep pace.

  Another arrow flew toward them, and he almost failed to get them both out of the way in time.

  As the rain poured from the sky, partially blinding him, he raced toward the rocks while looking up high past the woods to the watchtower where Roland, the loch guard, was set up to spot and warn them of any attacks. But the man was too far away, and the noise from the rain too great to try to call to him and alert him to sound the horn telling the others that there was an intruder on Dunvegan’s grounds.

  “Watch out!” Serene screamed, snapping Cameron’s attention back in the direction of the woods. He saw the arrow too late to move out of the path, so he threw up his arm to deflect it. The arrowhead skidded the length of his forearm, slicing the skin with stinging precision but mercifully not causing grave harm.

  Finally, they reached the rock ledge, and he shoved Serene into the shelter. “Stay here!” he commanded.

  “Nay!” she retorted. “I’ll nae sit here like a helpless bairn while ye chase after the attacker.”

  “Unless yer aim is to get me killed by distracting me with yer presence, dunnae move. Do ye ken me?”

  “I ken ye,” she grumbled, her eyes flashing her ire. “I dunnae wish to get ye killed presently, but that may change, given how churlish ye are.”

  Laughter bubbled in his chest, despite the dire circumstances. He held his dagger out to her. “If the enemy should reach ye…” He didn’t finish because she was already nodding, indicating that she understood.