by Sky Winters
At last she found her voice.
“Don’t you dare touch me? I am betrothed to Lord Stewart and he will see you all hanged if you dare harm even a hair on my head.” Her voice was shaking as she defiantly looked back at the group.
She thought she had made an impact until the man who had kissed her broke out into a sly grin.
“We don’t want to hurt her do we boys? We just want to have a little fun.” His eyes were steely and full of desire as he approached her. She started to stand but he grabbed her and held her to the floor. His hand reached up to her breasts and pawed at the soft flesh, licking his lips in anticipation.
“Come and hold her down boys whilst I teach her a lesson.”
Two men approached and one took her arms and the other her legs, spreading them slightly apart.
She felt a hand underneath her woollen dress, the dirty fingernails digging into her skin as they crept further and further up towards her inner thigh and intimate places.
Arabella wanted to scream for help, but a filthy hand was pressed over her mouth so only a small muffled cry could be heard. It was no use, there was no-one to hear her anyway and it was useless to struggle against the strength of these men.
The first man had now kneeled down beside her and was pulling at the fastening of his breeches. His fleshy cock fell out of the dark material, a floppy, half solid thing that he grasped in his hands and started tugging. The other men shouted in approval and the girl tried to avert her eyes.
“She’s never seen such a thing in her life, look how it offends the ladies eyes.”
“I’m not surprised,” shouted another. Billy’s is a poor specimen, here she needs a real man,” and with that the man from earlier with the eye patch started to loosen his clothing. His cock was thicker and much larger than the others and Arabella’s eyes widened in fear.
“See, she likes mine much better, see how the thought of it makes her eyes shine.”
Another round of crude laughter ensued as the man with the hefty manhood stepped near her.
“Now, let’s get down to business”
As he knelt beside her and started to lift up her dress, there was a shout from the back.
“Stop that ye heathens, stop that at once.”
A man stepped forward into the clearing. He was handsome and not like the rest and although his clothes looked worn and in need of some service, he looked cleaner and more respectable than the others. He had with him an air of authority and the others seemed almost afraid of him.
“What on earth are you doing? Are ye but animals? Get away from the poor girl now. The instructions were not to harm her. She is to be used as a bargaining tool against Lord Stewart, not as a plaything to amuse you scum.”
The man with the eye patch rearranged his clothing and stepped forward.
“We did not mean any harm to the girl. We were just having our wee bit of fun.”
Before he could finish his sentence he was knocked by a powerful punch to the floor, leaving his nose bloody and broken.
“Is there anybody else here who was thinking of having their way with this poor lassie?”
The men shuffled their feet and looked away. Their leader was a strong man and no-one wanted to challenge him.
Arabella looked up gratefully. The man stood before her was definitely handsome, not in a sharp, cool way like Andrew Stewart, but in a more rugged and manly fashion. His hair was dark with an auburn glint, and fell in waves upon his shoulders. His eyes were a smouldering deep brown and his jaw square, with just the hint of a dimple. In any other mood she would have felt subdued under his quiet gaze, now she was afraid and angry and wanted to be away from here and back on her journey to Inverness.
“If you will help me up Sir, I would like to be on my way,” she tried to be brave but couldn’t help her bottom lip from wavering. The man held out a strong arm and took hold of her hand, delicate and slight in his and pulled her to her feet.
Straightening out her dress and brushing back her hair she looked the young man in the eye. “And what is your name Sir?”
He couldn’t help but smile at the brave young woman stood in front of him. She was very beautiful and her eyes glimmered with emotion.
“My name is James Macadam Miss,” he bowed politely and held out his hand for hers which she declined. Although he was charming he was still one of them and therefore could not be trusted.
“Well Mr Macadam, my future husband, Lord Andrew Stewart will be very grateful for your intervention to save me, and I am sure that when I am safely within his castle walls he will reward you handsomely.”
The men stood around her laughed incredulously and James held up his hand to silence them.
“I am afraid that is not quite how Lord Stewart will see it. You see, these lands and those around as far as the eye can see belonged to my clan, back to my father and his father’s father before him. Generations of Macadam’s have owned and lived in this land without conflict for hundreds of years, that is until your beloved Laird took everything away from my family by force, and burned our forests.”
“I’m sure there must be some mistake?”
“There is no mistake my Lady. As we speak my father is held prisoner in the Castle up in Inverness. He is an elderly man that should not be locked up in a cold and damp cell; and his crime? To speak out against your future husband for taking and destroying our lands.”
His brown eyes were fiery with an amber glow as he spoke, the words pulled from the depth of his heart.
Arabella stood quietly for a moment. James Macadam spoke with such conviction about Lord Stewart that she didn’t know quite what to think. His speech had caught her off guard, and any feeling of protection she thought she might have under the name of Lord Stewart was quickly diminishing. Hiding a shaking hand behind her back and jutting out her chin, she continued in the best way she could.
“That maybe so Sir, but what my future husband has or has not done cannot be blamed upon myself. I am innocent of this act but can promise that on my safe return to Inverness, I will put in a good word for you and your father and this mis-understanding can be put right.”
“Mis-understanding?” James shook his head sadly, as the men scoffed at her comments.
“I am afraid your ladyship that you will have to be our prisoner for the moment. The only way to bargain with Andrew Stewart is through something he loves, and apart from money, these things are rare indeed. It was unfortunate for you that you happened to stop at the very Inn in which my men drinking. Your driver was easily bribed.”
“Thomas?” Arabella was shocked to know that her father’s trusted servant had been party to such a wicked act.
“Don’t be too hard on the man. We made him an offer he could not refuse”
“And where is Thomas now?”
“We have sent him back with the horses to Stirling. I have told him to tell your parents that no harm will come to you and you will soon be returned to Lord Stewart.”
“And what of Matilda, my maid?” The thought of her young maid had slipped her mind completely and she felt responsible for the wretched girl.
“Do not worry, she was sat safely waiting in the carriage. I gave her a start and she started weeping, saying she would not leave without you. She is on the road back to Stirling as we speak.”
Arabella could imagine her father’s reaction when the coach returned. Her mother would probably faint.
“My father will not let this lie either; he will come looking for you.”
“My quarrel is not with your father but with Andrew Stewart, I would not like to harm an innocent man, but if your father attacks then we must fight back.”
Her father was not a warring man and he would be no match for James. He would not do anything but pray for divine intervention. Her position grew more hopeless by the minute and she could feel her bottom lip start to tremor once more. This time, there was no holding back and the tears slid down her pretty cheeks as she started to sob.
James was not used to women crying, he was used to living with his men, yet he was not hardened to her grief. She was a beautiful young woman and he was not unaware of the fact, and to see the poor thing weeping before him, stirred his heart.
His voice was gentle as he reached for her arm.
“Come Arabella, I promise that we will not hurt you. I will be personally responsible for your safety and wellbeing at all times. Now it is getting late and we must get back to the camp. You will feel better after food and a rest.”
Arabella was reluctant to take his offered hand but she had no choice in the matter. She was tired and wished the business over quickly.
James threw her over a pair of men’s breeches and a woollen cloak to wear. She was hardly dressed for riding, and it would look better if she was dressed more like them. It would remove the worry of suspicious glances that her appearance might spark.
“We’re going to have to do something with that long hair of yours too,” and with that James produced a leather cord and gently gathered the hair at her nape and fastened it securely. Passing her a black cap to complete the outfit she changed behind a thicket of trees.
When she finally emerged she looked just like a handsome young boy. Only her blossoming figure gave her away and that would be well hidden beneath a flowing cloak.
Taking her hand he led her to where his horse was patiently waiting, a magnificent black stallion called Jet with a white star marking on its nose. He helped her up and she sat beside him, refusing at first put her arms about his waist as they galloped through the dark night, but as they rode faster through the darkness she found she had to cling on to him to keep her balance, her arms tight around his firm and muscular body. At first she buried her head deep into his back, afraid of the speed and the dark shadows all around her. But he was a good horseman and eventually she relaxed and opened her eyes, enjoying the thrill of the ride. She had never felt so liberated.
Chapter 2
Too soon they arrived at the camp, a makeshift place that had been the men’s home for a few days. A few shelters had been made from branches and leaves, to offer some protection from the elements. A few of the men had already started a fire that was already blazing a magnificent cornucopia of colors; deep gold and amber against the black canvas of night. A large cooking pot had been hung over the flames and a delicious smell drifted through the air.
Arabella was still reluctant to become civil with the men, especially the ones that had tried to molest her. James had been kind, but he was the sworn enemy of her betrothed, and it would not be seemly to form any kind of relationship with him.
She was given the best seat by the fire and several woolen blankets were laid out for her to sit on. The warmth penetrated her bones and she curled her slippered toes towards the heat. Tired and hungry she hastily accepted the wooden bowl of broth accompanied by a dense chunk of dark colored bread. The soup was mutton; her favorite, and she had soon devoured the lot, the fresh air adding to her appetite. Although simple, it was one of the tastiest dishes she had eaten for a long time.
She was determined not to fall asleep. However kind James had been, she did not trust his men.
James Macadam watched the girl from a distance. Her face was lit up; burnished by the glowing fire. Her cheeks had already been flushed from the brisk ride and now she was positively radiant. He had never seen such a beautiful face in all of his life.
As he observed her slight form, her shoulders began to slowly sag within the great cloak around her shoulders, and her head began to droop against her chest. Finally her eyes closed and she was sound asleep.
Picking her up gently, James carried the girl to lie under one of the sheltered spaces. She was so light in his arms, so beautiful, that it made his heart heavy. She was betrothed to Lord Stewart and would be used as a bargaining tool for the return of his lands and the release of his father. That was all; he could not allow himself to get involved.
Lowering her down onto a woollen blanket he had to control a desperate urge to kiss her on the lips. Instead he brushed her forehead slightly with his mouth and she stirred quietly in her dreams, the softest of smiles playing on her lips.
He would not sleep; he would be as good as his word and keep watch over her all night.
When she awoke the next day it took Arabella a while to work out where she was. She had slept well, but was aching from lying on the hard ground. When she looked up, James was there, smiling down at her.
He was so handsome that her heart fluttered; he had been in her dreams and she blushed to think of it. She had been walking down the aisle, approaching Lord Stewart waiting for her at the altar. He had slowly turned towards her, but it wasn’t the face of Andrew Stewart that waited, but the smiling face of James Macadam, and she had been glad with all her heart.
It was a ridiculous notion, her course was set and she had to get to Inverness as soon as possible and she pushed the foolish thoughts to the back of her mind.
Over breakfast, a bowl of simple porridge and ale, James told her of his plans. One of his men was already riding to Inverness to meet up with Lord Stewart to bargain Arabella for the return of his lands and release of his father. James was no fool and knew that it would not be easy. Andrew Stewart was sure to raise a small army and come looking for them –yet he had the upper hand, he had Arabella and even in the eyes of the cold Laird, surely the prize was worth it?
He could hardly dare think about the poor young woman being bound to such a man, but it was not his problem, the girl had obviously agreed to the union. At least she would be well cared for, she would want for nothing in the castle, more than anything he could hope to provide her with.
He shook his head sadly; it was a stupid thought to even entertain. His lifestyle was not fitting for a lady such as Arabella Armstrong.
It would be several days at least until they expected word back from Lord Stewart and the plan was to stay concealed in the camp for as long as they needed.
At first Arabella sat silently, aloof from the men and thinking over her forthcoming marriage. She had been shocked to hear some of the stories about her fiancé, but was sure they were exaggerated; her father would never have given such a man permission to marry her; however wealthy he might be.
Occasionally she would watch James slyly out of the corner of her eye. All the men seemed to respect him and he worked with the men on all tasks, nothing was too lowly for him. She delighted in seeing him demonstrate his strength, either chopping down a tree for firewood or fixing one of the temporary shelters. Occasionally he worked stripped naked from the waist and she loved to watch the rippling biceps and strong shoulders at work. Never before had she felt sexually attracted to a man and a dull ache rose inside of her that she could not dismiss, however hard she tried.
For most of the day she was sat alone with her thoughts and with James not always by her side, she felt the she must keep a close watch on the other men. She caught them looking at her when they thought she wasn't looking and she did not like their stares. It was only when they sat once again around the camp fire that night, and James was sat next to her, did she relax. After they had eaten, one of the men stood up and brought out an old battered set of pipes. She expected the music would be disharmonious and was amazed when the soft haunting melody floated out into the night air. It was a tender, melancholy piece that she recognised from her childhood “The Bonny lass of Ballochmyle’ and she started to sing the words in her head.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice, sweet and low, singing the very same words she was thinking. It was James. He sang with a rich baritone, and the more he sang, the more she loved him. It was a tale of innocent love and it hit her straight in the heart.
Fair is the morn in flow'ry May,
And sweet is night in autumn mild,
When roving thro' the garden gay,
Or wand'ring in the lonely wild;
But woman, Nature's darling child -
There all her charms she does compile;
By the bonnie lass 0' Ballochmyle.
James was looking straight at her and she mouthed the words along with him. Soon the men were clamouring for another tune and invited Arabella to sing for them. At first she was shy, but emboldened by the ale she stood and asked what songs she knew. She could remember the words to ‘Early one Morning’ and soon the piper had struck up a chord and she was soon singing of a poor maiden’s plight.
Oh, don't deceive me,
Oh, never leave me,
How could you use
A poor maiden so?
Her voice was light and crisp and as she grew bolder the notes soared high into the night sky, as tuneful as a lark at evensong.
James felt his eyes well with tears; the sound was so plaintive that he turned his head away so that his men could not see. In a few days she would be miles away and in another man’s bed. She would soon forget her time here.
When she had finished he went over to sit with her and they talked until the moon had swung around the great mountain to the west. He told her how frail his father had been following the death of his mother. Theirs had been a long and true love and when he had lost her, he thought his whole life over. That had been when the greedy Lord Stewart had struck, when they had all been grieving, and he had taken their lands by force. When his father had tried to complain to the Sheriff, the Laird had imprisoned him in the castle on a charge of trespass on his own lands. His father had been a peaceful man and had always been kind to his tenant farmers. The new Laird had doubled the rents and increased the taxes, driving out families from their homes and livelihoods.
Arabella listened without comment, as she looked into his dark and honest eyes; she knew that he was telling the truth. The more she heard about Lord Andrew Stewart, the less she liked him, let alone wanted to marry him.
It was late and Arabella yawned. James promised to watch over her and walked her back to the shelter that would be her bed for the night. As they walked through the darkness their hands brushed lightly and a spark of electricity passed between them. His heart was beating loudly in his chest and he could hide his feelings no longer. Grabbing at her waist he pulled her close to him, his hot breath on her hair.
