Ruth Langan Highlanders Bundle

by Ruth Langan

  “Your captain has ordered the feasting to begin.”

  At the sound of Megan’s voice, every head in camp turned to where she stood.

  Kieran’s eyes narrowed as he studied her carefully. Her gown had been torn viciously, leaving the front of her bodice gaping, revealing a pale chemise beneath. The hem of her gown was dark where the water had soaked it. It clung to her ankles as she strode into the clearing. The front of her gown was smeared with a dark stain. Kieran’s stomach muscles tightened. Blood. The bastard Wilkes must have hurt her badly. Kieran’s hands curled into fists.

  Megan kept her head lowered, avoiding their eyes.

  The men fell silent for long minutes as they stared at the woman. They recognized Wilkes’ handiwork.

  “Where is our captain?” one of the men called.

  “He is…resting.” Megan lifted her head and stared defiantly at the circle of men.

  “Exhausted from his latest conquest, is he?” Dudley removed the deer from the spit and began cutting off strips of meat.

  “Aye. He said to break out the ale for these men.” Megan prayed there was ale among their supplies.

  When Dudley hurried to the horses and returned with several jugs, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  The men gathered around eagerly, accepting their portion of food and drink.

  Using that moment of distraction, Megan walked to where Kieran and Colin lay. Pretending to be adjusting the torn bodice of her gown, she removed the knife from her waistband and dropped it into Kieran’s hand.

  He looked up in astonishment. “Were you badly hurt, lass?”

  “I was not hurt at all. But the captain will not be returning to his men.”

  For a moment Kieran could only stare at her. Then, as her meaning became clear, he shot her a look of stunned amazement tinged with admiration. For the first time since this ordeal began, he felt his hopes begin to soar.

  Megan moved away quickly and bent to adjust her boot. As she did she picked up a sword that had been left resting against the trunk of a tree. Hiding it beneath her skirts, she sauntered past Kieran and let it drop soundlessly into the tall grass.

  “When will you dance for us?” one of the soldiers called.

  She whirled and felt her heart pounding. “Now. Your captain ordered me to begin entertaining you as soon as your feasting began.”

  The tall, ugly Whip gave a knowing glance in Kieran’s direction. “You can dance if you wish. But when I finish this feast, I intend to be the first to sample your charms. And I shall do it where your two brave warriors can see and enjoy.”

  Kieran worked the knife through the vines until at last they fell away. Then he brought the knife to the vines of his ankles. Within minutes he was free, and he hurried to free his brother.

  “Lie perfectly still and pretend to be asleep.”

  Colin nodded.

  “And watch for a chance to go to Megan’s aid.”

  Colin shot him a look of agreement.

  Both men lay just beyond the ring of firelight and watched as Megan began to move slowly among the men. Taking several of their swords, she placed them in an intricate crossed pattern on the ground. Then, asking for their knives, she added them to the pattern by sticking them, blade down, into the ground. Intrigued, the men watched as she lifted her skirts and began stepping, toe-heel, toe-heel, through the maze of weapons. Soon she was whirling, dancing, faster and faster, her skirts swirling around her ankles.

  Each time the men caught a glimpse of her leg they would clap and shout words of encouragement to her, urging her to show them more. And each time she would lift her skirts higher, causing the men to roar their approval.

  With a delicate movement she kicked her foot at a knife and watched as it flew through the air, landing in the grass where Kieran and Colin lay. With the men shouting encouragement, she followed it with a second kick, and a third, each time sending another knife flying through the air.

  The soldiers were intrigued by her complicated footwork. Never had they seen anyone so dazzling.

  Cheered by their reaction, Megan stepped into the maze of swords and danced around them until she managed to catch one on the toe of her boot. In one swift motion she kicked it high in the air. The men laughed and cheered as it landed by the tip of the blade in the tall grass just beyond the glow of the fire. She repeated the complex movement until all the swords were gone. Then, giving the men a smoldering look, she began a slow, seductive dance around the fire.

  In the darkness, Kieran and Colin collected the weapons, then moved toward the horses, tethered beneath a tree. The soldier who was assigned to the care of the animals had long ago joined his friends at the feast.

  “How do we get Megan away from those men?” Colin whispered as he trailed his brother toward the horses.

  “I do not know. Yet.” Kieran crawled through the tall grass, untying every tether. When the horses were free, he handed the reins to Colin. “If we are to make good our escape, we must see to it that every horse is gone save the ones we ride.”

  “Aye. Leave that to me.”

  Kieran touched a hand to his brother’s shoulder. “Are you strong enough to ride?”

  “This moment I even feel strong enough to wield a sword.”

  Kieran shot him a look of surprise. “Has the lass done this for you?”

  “Aye. Never have I seen such courage.”

  Kieran nodded. “Nor I.” His glance skimmed over the woman who continued dancing, though by now she must be beyond exhaustion. Courage? Aye. And much more. She was the most stunning, the most magnificent creature he had ever met.

  At the sound of someone coming, Kieran motioned for Colin to duck down behind the horses. Turning, Kieran saw one of the soldiers step behind a tree to relieve himself. Kieran lifted the sword. The soldier gave a gasp of surprise, then dropped to his knees, his eyes wide with fear, his mouth agape. They left his body hidden in the tall grass.

  “Take the horses now,” Kieran whispered. “Meet us on the far side of the river. And Colin…”

  His brother paused.

  “Take whatever coin and other valuables you can find in the pouches behind their saddles. We may need them to assure our freedom.”

  Colin nodded. Without a word he led the horses deep into the forest.

  Kieran pulled himself into the saddle of the remaining horse and tucked a knife into his waistband. In his hand was a gleaming sword. He gave one last glance over his shoulder, to be certain that his brother was safely away. Then, with a flick of the reins, he urged his mount into a run.

  Megan had no idea what Kieran and Colin planned. But she had seen them crawl away in the direction of the horses. Though her body protested every move, she forced herself to continue dancing while the men shouted obscenities.

  She saw the black steed looming up out of the mist of the forest. As it headed directly for the fire, she could make out the rider. Kieran. She braced herself as the horse leaped over the circle of men and landed directly beside her. She lifted her arms and Kieran scooped her up, holding her firmly with one hand.

  For a moment the soldiers were too startled to react. When they realized what was happening, they leaped to their feet. But their weapons were gone. While they milled around in confusion, searching the tall grass for their swords and knives, Kieran and Megan disappeared into the safety of the forest.

  Chapter Six

  Colin stood on the far side of the river, anxiously awaiting the arrival of his brother and Megan. When he was far enough from the soldiers’ camp, he had released the horses. Now they stood, singly or in pairs, calmly foraging. Several stood in the shallows, drinking. Others had disappeared into the forest. It would take the men hours to retrieve their mounts. By then, the three would be safely away.

  Colin’s pockets bulged with the gold sovereigns he had taken from the saddles. The hangman paid his men well. There was enough here to feed a family for a year.

  His musings were interrupted by the sound of muted hoofbeats
.

  The black horse entered the river at a run. His pounding hooves sent a spray of water that caught the reflection of the full moon.

  When the two approached, Colin’s face lit with a smile. “You were splendid, lass.”

  Kieran took one look at Megan’s ashen features and called, “There is no time for talk. We must ride.”

  “Aye.” Colin pulled himself into the saddle and urged his mount into a run.

  They raced across an open meadow, mindful of the fact that they were easy prey in the moonlight. On the far side of the meadow the forest rose up again, offering them sanctuary.

  As they entered the woods they slowed their mounts, picking their way carefully in the darkness. Hearing the rush of a waterfall, Kieran led the way until he found a small clearing beside a river.

  “We will rest here and tend our wounds. But we will leave again before dawn.”

  He dismounted and reached up for Megan. When he lifted her to the ground, he realized once again how small and fragile she seemed. She swayed and struggled to regain her balance. Instantly Kieran lifted her in his arms and carried her to the banks of the river.

  “Bathe your wounds, lass. And then you must rest.”

  Kieran tethered the horses, then spread his cloak and helped his brother to lie down. “I will see to your wounds.”

  “They are nothing. See to the lass.”

  Kieran lifted his head in surprise. Megan was still sitting beside the river. She had not moved. He tended his brother’s wounds quickly, then went to Megan. When he approached, she said nothing. Kieran studied her pale features. He recalled that she had been strangely silent during the long ride.

  “What is it, Megan? Where are you hurt?”

  She shook her head. “I am not wounded.” Tears filled her eyes, and she tried to blink them away.

  Instantly Kieran was on his knees beside her.

  “Tell me where you are hurt.”

  She shook her head and refused to meet his eyes. “I do not understand this weakness that holds me in its grip.”

  Kieran touched a hand to her cheek and wiped away her tears. “It is exhaustion, lass. You have pushed yourself beyond the limits.”

  “Nay. It is more.” She glanced at the torn bodice of her gown, stained with the blood of the captain of the guard. “I cannot wear this.”

  “What are you saying, lass?”

  She began tearing at the buttons. “I cannot bear to look at this gown. I must be rid of it.”

  “I understand.” He strode to where the horses were tethered and rummaged through their saddles. When he returned he carried a man’s breeches and tunic. “These will be too large for you, Megan. But they are clean and serviceable.”

  He watched as she discarded the gown and pulled on the men’s garb. When she was finished, she fell back exhausted. Kieran carried her to the place beside his brother and wrapped her in her cloak. As he started to stand, he whispered, “Rest now, and you will feel better on the morrow.”

  “Nay.” She caught his hand and clung to it.

  Startled, he dropped to his knees and studied her anguished look. “What is it, Megan?”

  “I know not.” Her lips quivered. “Nay. That is untrue. I know what troubles me. I have taken a life. That is a most serious thing, the taking of a life. Is it not?”

  “Aye. A most serious thing. But you had no choice. It was the captain’s life or yours.”

  She turned to Colin, who knelt beside them, his face etched with concern. “You said that vengeance belonged to the Lord.”

  Colin nodded. “Aye. But Kieran has just explained, lass. You had no choice.”

  “You still do not understand.” The tears started again, and she was powerless to stop them. Her words were slow and halting as she struggled to swallow back the sobs. “I was not afraid. I knew I could kill him.”

  What a strange lass she was. Kieran found her words a puzzle. “Is that what troubles you, Megan?” He caught her by the shoulders and felt the tremors that rocked her.

  “Aye. What sort of training did I have, that I could feel so confident in battle? What kind of person am I, that I can so easily take a life?”

  “What kind of person? Oh, Megan.” Kieran wrapped her in his arms and drew her firmly against his chest. As her tears soaked the front of his tunic, he touched a hand to her hair and rocked her as gently as if she were a child. “Though I do not know of your past, you have proven to me that you are a brave, courageous person.” He felt her shudders slowly subside. Though he was not a man of words, he knew that he must find a way to console this woman. In low, soothing tones he murmured, “Without knowing anything about our past, you have tended our wounds. That takes a kind and generous spirit. And when we needed your help, you have saved our lives. That takes courage, lass. My brother and I are forever in your debt.”

  “Aye, Megan.” Colin patted her shoulder. “We do not forget what you did for us.”

  Though he wished to offer her something more, Colin was too drained by what had transpired. With great effort he rolled himself into his cloak and struggled to fight the weakness that robbed him of his last ounce of strength. But the effort was too great. He was beyond exhaustion. His eyes closed and he slept.

  Megan sniffled. Her words were slurred, as though talking had become a great effort. “You do not think me too young, and hot-blooded, and headstrong?” She wondered idly where those words had come from. But her mind was muddled by all that had happened.

  Kieran chuckled, low and deep in his throat. “Aye, lass. All those words apply to you. And I am most grateful they do.”

  His laughter soothed her. She sighed softly and wrapped her arms around Kieran’s waist.

  The rush of heat was swift and unsettling. Kieran swore, low and fierce in his throat, and called himself every kind of fool. They had just escaped certain death because of this lass, and he suddenly found himself thinking of things that had nothing whatever to do with death. Things that would shock her.

  In his mind’s eye he could still see her, facing that horde of hungry men, lifting her skirts and dancing. He had wanted her. As had every man there. He could tell himself that his own lust was somehow nobler than theirs, but he would be lying. He struggled to push aside his base instincts and focus on her needs. “You are perhaps the first truly good thing I have found in this cruel world. You are everything fine and noble, my lady. And you are the most stunning, the most magnificent, the bravest woman I have ever met. And until you regain your memory of yourself, I pledge to protect you as I would my brother or myself.”

  He heard the soft, even breathing, and realized that she had not heard a word he had spoken. He felt her gradually relax in his arms. Her lips were pressed to his throat, sending a quivering need pulsing through his veins.

  All her tension seemed to have dissolved, and he touched a hand to her cheek. Her tears had dried. He lifted his head and studied her. Her eyes were closed; her lips parted in a smile. Her breast rose and fell with each measured breath. She was sound asleep.

  He could lie here all night, wrapped around her like this. But he would never survive the temptation. In his mind’s eye he could still see that slender, feminine body she had revealed when she had torn away her gown. It was not an image he would soon forget.

  With easy, gentle movements he drew away. Draping her cloak around her, he lowered her to the ground. Then he sat beside her, his back to the trunk of the tree, and kept watch while she slept. But though he listened for any sound that would alert him to the presence of danger, his gaze was often drawn to the beautiful creature who lay beside him, lost in her dreams.

  He knew not who she was. Nor why the gods had thrown them together. But for now, he was most grateful.

  Kieran stirred. He had allowed himself a few hours of sleep. But it was time to move on, before the soldiers could find their trail.

  He touched a hand to Colin’s shoulder and saw him stir. Then he turned to Megan. Though he disliked having to disturb her sleep,
he had no choice. Gently he roused her.

  Megan was instantly awake. Her eyes opened wide, studying the strange surroundings. Though she appeared not to move a muscle, he noted that her hand had gone to the place where a sword would rest in a scabbard at her hip.

  His eyes narrowed. She woke like a soldier.

  “We must make haste.” Kieran bent and rolled his cloak, then tied it behind his saddle. “Even now the first light of dawn touches the sky.”

  Megan helped Colin to his feet and was pleased to see that his wounds caused him little discomfort. “Tonight I will grind more herbs and roots for a salve,” she promised.

  “I would much prefer deer roasted over a fire.” He shot her a quick smile. “Last night I was too distraught over our circumstances to give much thought to the food those soldiers were enjoying. But this morrow, I would give much for just a taste.”

  “We shall eat.” Kieran tucked a knife into his waistband and carefully wrapped the gold coins in a pouch. “Let us ride. Before the day is over, I promise you I will find food.”

  “Do you think the soldiers will follow?” Colin paused, while his frown suddenly turned to a hopeful smile. “Perhaps, with their leader dead, they will return to England.”

  “Mayhap.” Kieran frowned. “But they claim to be friend to the jailer I killed.” He saw Megan watching him and wondered how much to reveal. “I think their lust for our deaths is too keen to persuade them to give up the chase now.”

  He helped Megan into the saddle, then pulled himself up behind her. When Colin had mounted they urged their horses to follow the path of the river.

  “Where do we go?” Megan was achingly aware of the arms that encircled her. Kieran’s big hands, holding the reins, rested at her ribs. The same hands, she thought, that had held and soothed her last night.

  “We must find a port. If we are to reach Ireland, we must cross the Irish Sea.”

  The breeze lifted her hair, and he breathed in the fragrance of lake water and wildflowers that clung to her.