Lords of the Isles

by Le Veque, Kathryn

  Now if only Emma was waiting for him. He smiled at the thought and grew aroused when only a few feet from his door. He was more than eager to make love to her, to have them start a life together as husband and wife. He loved her strength, her courage, her determination. He laughed. Stubbornness was more like it, though it somehow suited her intelligent nature, and then there was that gorgeous body of hers.

  The thought of her naked in his arms turned him rock-hard and had him taking quicker steps to his door. He did not hesitate. He grabbed the latch, swung the door open, and stepped in.

  The room was empty, and he let a string of oaths fly and slammed the door behind him. He had to force himself not to go after her and carry her back to his room. He had—foolish as it was—given her this night to absorb the startling news that they were wed. He had believed that once she gave it thought she would understand that nothing could undo what had been done and she…

  Bloody hell, he had hoped she would have surrendered to her passion and be waiting there as eager as he was to make love. Or was she stubborn enough to…

  He ran out of his bedchambers and up the stairs to her room. He did not bother to knock. He swung the door open and stopped abruptly when he caught sight of her asleep in the chair. He walked as quietly as he could over to her and silently berated himself for not considering how tired she must be. She was still healing and she needed rest.

  Rogan reached down and carefully lifted her into his arms. He had to smile at her reaction. She cuddled against his chest and his name fell in a soft whisper from her lips. Even in sleep she knew whose arms held her. He carried her to her bed and gently placed her on it, draping a blanket over her.

  He kissed her cheek and whispered, “Tomorrow, wife.”

  He shut the door quietly behind him and returned to his bedchamber, stripping out of his clothes and getting into bed. He would sleep well and so would Emma. They would need a good rest in preparation for tomorrow night. He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

  *

  Emma waited several minutes after the door shut before she sat up in bed. His arms had felt so good, his scent so enticing, and his chest much too comfortable. Then she had realized that she had actually been in his arms, it had not been a dream. How she managed to pretend she was asleep, she did not know. But it was over and done and she was certain he would not return to check on her. The thought hurt, for he trusted her and she was about to break that trust.

  She grabbed her pouch of herbs and tied it around her waist, and then draped her cloak over her shoulders. It would not be easy traveling at night, but it was necessary. She had to get as much of a head start as she could, for she had no doubt that Rogan would come after her.

  She was his wife and his responsibility.

  Emma did not think it would be hard to sneak out of the keep. The MacClennan warriors had celebrated hard and many, if not most, would be passed out from drink by now. Still, she kept to the shadows, knowing Rogan was no fool and had probably made sure that there were warriors who had not touched a drop of ale last night.

  She made it out of the keep with ease and stuck to the night shadows where almost nothing could be detected. She did not enter the Macinnes camp. She went to where the horses were being kept and got the attention of the one warrior guarding them. She ordered him to bring James to her, but warned him to make it appear as if he woke James to take his shift, since she feared they were being watched.

  James yawned, stretched, and scratched his belly as he approached the horses, making it seem that he was slowly and reluctantly doing his duty.

  Once among the shadows of the horses, Emma approached him.

  “What is wrong?” James asked.

  “I do not have time to explain,” she said. “I need to leave for home tonight—alone.”

  “I cannot let you go alone, at least take one warrior with you.”

  One warrior would not be missed, so she agreed.

  “Thomas will go with you. He waits in the woods with two horses.”

  She shook her head. “How could you possibly know I would—”

  “I did not know, but I thought it might be wise just in case.”

  Emma hugged the burly man. “Bless you, James, and tomorrow you may hear news that—”

  “Will matter little to me as long as you are safe,” he said. “Now be off with you before we are caught and your plan foiled.”

  He told her where Thomas would be and she hurried off, wanting desperately to be gone from here, and yet wanting desperately to stay. She found Thomas and they walked the horses a distance away before mounting them and taking off.

  *

  I want to go home and see my father.

  Rogan woke with a start, jolting up in bed, the words echoing in his head. He threw the blanket off and hurried into his clothes. He took the stairs two at a time as he made his way up to Emma’s room. He flung the door open. Her room was empty. He ran down the steps and into the Great Hall. Emma was not there. He went to the kitchen and found Bertha there.

  “Where is Emma?” he demanded.

  “In her room the last I saw,” she said.

  “When was that?”

  “Last night before you retired yourself,” Bertha said.

  “Damn,” he muttered and stormed out of the kitchen.

  Dawn was barely cresting on the horizon, the village just stirring to life. The few who were up and about quickly moved out of Rogan’s path, seeing the anger on his face.

  He called out to his warriors as he approached the Macinnes camp and they hurried out of the shadows to follow behind him.

  James was awake, had been for some time, waiting for this moment.

  “Where is she?” Rogan demanded when he was a few feet from the man.

  “Who?” James asked.

  “Do not dare play games with me,” Rogan warned, coming to stand directly in front of the man, his warriors spreading out behind him and Macinnes warriors waking and hurrying to their feet ready to aid James. “Tell me where Emma is.”

  “I do not know.”

  “I am going to ask one more time, and then I am going to beat it out of you,” Rogan warned with such fierceness that James took a step back. “Where is my wife?”

  Shock rippled through all the warriors.

  “Wife?” James asked, as if he did not believe him.

  “Your own chieftain, Donald Macinnes had us wed by proxy. Your messenger delivered the sealed document to my father. Emma and I are wed. It is done. She is my wife. Now where is my wife.”

  James understood now and did what he had to, safe with the knowledge that Emma probably was not far from home. “Your wife is on her way home.”

  “I may still beat you if you tell me you let her go off on her own,” Rogan said, trying to contain the anger rising in him.

  “A warrior went with her.” James could not help but add, “If you knew your wife, you would know that no amount of reasoning would stop her.”

  “Careful with your words, old man,” Rogan snapped, annoyed that James was right. He should have realized Emma would do something like this. But he had taken precautions, and he intended to find out how his wife could have snuck past his warriors undetected. “When did she leave? And I caution you to tell the truth or pay the consequences.”

  “She took her leave last night when all were asleep or passed out from drink.”

  Rogan wanted to roar to the heavens, he was so angry. The thought of the danger she had placed herself in tore at his gut. “Ready your men,” he ordered. “We leave shortly.”

  “Where do we go?” James asked, though he knew.

  “To bring my wife home,” Rogan snarled and jabbed a finger toward James. “And God help her when I get my hands on her, and God help you if anything has happened to her.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Emma was exhausted, but she would not let that stop her. She did not care that her body ached from the long night’s hard ride, sleep would wait. She wanted to see her fath
er and since it was well past dawn, she did not worry he would be sleeping, resting perhaps, but awake.

  When she had entered the village, shouts of welcome home had greeted her and the same now in the keep. All who saw her were happy she had returned. She had not realized how very much she had missed home and family until now.

  Tears stung her eyes, wishing her sisters were here to welcome her as well, though she could not shake the ache in her heart for having left Rogan. She had not expected the separation to disturb her as much as it had. It was quite foolish of her, since he would no doubt follow after her. Yet, here she was missing him.

  She shook her head. She had no time to ache for her husband—ache—was that what she was doing? Is that what love did? Make your heart ache and your soul feel empty when the one you loved was not close by? She had much to learn about love and oddly enough, she was looking forward to it.

  Emma shook her head again as she stopped in front of her father’s bedchamber and knocked. “Father, it is Emma. I am home.”

  “One moment,” he called out.

  That struck her as odd. He had always bid her enter right away when she would knock at his door.

  The door opened and Emma was relieved to see Maura. She was a few years younger than Emma’s father, tall and slim, with soft features and an equally soft voice. She kept her long pure white hair braided and thankfully had the patience of a saint, which was why she had been the perfect choice to tend her father.

  “How is he?” Emma asked anxiously.

  “Some days better than others, but today is a good day,” Maura said. “I will leave you to talk with him, and it is good to have you home.”

  “It is good to be home,” Emma said and entered the room, relieved to see her father looking much better than when she had left. She had worried over being away from him, fearing he would not eat properly. He had always been a robust man, larger than life, so it was good to see that he had regained some of his stamina. It appeared Maura had taken good care of him and her own herb mixtures appeared to have worked well. Emma was hopeful that he would continue to improve and be his old self in no time.

  She approached his bed with a smile.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Emma halted in her steps, surprised that he sounded as if he reprimanded her. Another time she would have lowered her head and apologized for what she did not know, but not this time. Things were different, much different.

  With determined strides, she walked over to him with her hands planted on her hips. “I have questions that need answers and we will start with… why did you marry me to Rogan MacClennan?”

  His shoulders slumped and his strength seemed to deflate with his heavy sigh. “I had no choice. I did it to protect the clan. The message I got was not from your sister.”

  Emma felt her breath catch.

  “A peasant delivered a message and told me he was paid handsomely to do so. The sealed message warned me to do as told or I would never see Heather or Patience again. I was to say that I received a message from Patience requesting more men. Shortly after the contingent of Macinnes warriors left with Liam, I received another message. I was to tell Angus MacClennan to do nothing until he heard from me, which I did. The message also warned that I was to do the same, say nothing, until I heard from this unknown person.” Donald turned tear-filled eyes on Emma. “The signature was that of a dragon’s claw.”

  Emma felt as if she could not breathe. It was true. The Dark Dragon had Heather and possibly Patience as well.

  “I recalled the amendment I had placed in the marriage document and decided it was time to make use of it.” A tear ran done his cheek. “I am so sorry, Emma, but our warriors alone cannot protect us from the Dark Dragon. At least with MacClennan warriors, we have a chance. So I signed the proxy marrying you to Rogan MacClennan.”

  Emma had to sit, her legs feeling as if they would no longer hold her. She lowered herself to the chair beside her father’s bed and asked a question she feared she knew the answer to. “What does the Dark Dragon want from us?”

  Donald shuddered. “I think he wants Heather as his wife.”

  This was a nightmare and Emma wished she could wake and find it gone. She could not imagine, sweet, thoughtful Heather wife to a cold-hearted bastard, or that she would never see her sister again. That could not happen. She could not let it.

  “I see that stubborn look on your face and it will do you no good to think that you can rescue Heather. I will not lose the only daughter I presently have. You will stay put and do as I or your husband tells you until we can sort this out. I intend to send a message to King James requesting his help.”

  Emma laughed, though it sounded more like a strangled cry. “The King even fears the Dark Dragon.”

  “And well he should,” Donald said. “The Dark Dragon rescued him from a siege the King thought lost. The King owes him his life.”

  “Then if the Dark Dragon wants Heather, he will have her,” Emma said, her words turning her blood cold. She suddenly felt defeated, though more likely it was exhaustion that weighed heavily on her.

  “I am fatigued beyond words, Da,” she said, slowly pushing herself up out of the chair. “I must sleep.”

  “Your husband—”

  “Is not with me, though I suspect he will be arriving later today or tomorrow.” She bent down and kissed her father’s cheek.

  “I will see you after you have rested?” he asked and took hold of her hand. “I have missed you. I have missed all three of my daughters.”

  “And I you, Da. We will talk later,” she assured him, needing to leave, not wanting him to see that his tears were bringing on her own.

  She gave his hand a squeeze and hurried out of the room. She was not surprised to see a tub of steaming water in her room and food on the table by the window. The servants were well aware she preferred privacy, so no one waited to help her.

  She let her tears fall as she washed. How could this have happened? Why did the Dark Dragon want Heather? Why not? Heather was beautiful. She shook her head, her heart much too filled with sorrow to think on it anymore. She would finish up, eat, and rest, then she would be able to think more clearly. She would not give up on her sisters. Never, ever would she give up.

  Emma surrendered to sleep as soon as she pulled the blanket over her, grateful to slip away from all her worries, if only for a few hours.

  *

  Emma woke with a start, sitting up, and half expecting someone to be in her room, but she was alone. The fire had dwindled down and shadows hugged more than the corners, which meant she had slept into the evening.

  Her skin prickled with gooseflesh, the room having taken on a chill and she shivered, though not from the cold. Something was amiss, she could feel it. She hurried out of bed and slipped on her robe. She opened the door and peered around the edge. The hall was empty and the silence deafening.

  She hurried to the end of the hall and pushed the tapestry aside to look out of the slim opening. Her eyes could barely believe what she saw. Numerous campfires and glowing torches surrounded the village and a hundred or more warriors occupied the encircling camp.

  Her husband had arrived, and he had brought an army with him. She was about to face the consequences of her actions, though she was not sure what those consequences would be.

  She turned and froze. There at the far end of the hall, near her bedchamber door stood Rogan. The breadth of him seemed to consume the narrow hallway and the flicking torch light highlighted his handsome, though angry face.

  He stared at her, his brow wrinkling, and then as if realizing it was her, he started toward her with heavy and determined strides.

  Emma felt her heart swell and suddenly all she wanted was to be in his arms. Instinct took over and she ran toward him.

  As soon as he caught the startled look in her eye, Rogan prepared himself for an altercation with his wife. She shocked him when her expression suddenly changed to one of longing, as if she had actually missed h
im. When she started running toward him, his heart slammed against his chest. He rushed toward her and when she flung herself into his arms, he grabbed her around the waist, lifted her, and settled his mouth on hers. His kiss was hungry and he felt like a starving man, needing to taste deeply of her, needing to know she was real, here with him and safe.

  His kiss robbed her breath and woke her passion, sending it soaring. What was it about this man’s kisses that turned her senseless and made her melt in his arms?

  He kept his arms firm around her waist, her feet dangling several inches off the floor as he walked to her bedchamber. With a shove of his shoulder at the door, they entered and a forceful kick sent it closed.

  The feel of her there in his arms made him hungrier for her. It was as if he had been deprived of her for far too long and all he wanted was to strip her bare and make love to her. And from her eager response, it appeared she felt the same.

  He lowered her feet to the floor, his hands roaming down over her backside to give her full cheeks a squeeze as he pressed her hard against him. He wanted her, good God, how he wanted her. He groaned when she rubbed herself against him. She wanted him just as much, but…

  With reluctance he tore his mouth away from hers, released her, and walked over to the hearth. He busied himself by adding logs to the fire while he tried to control the overpowering need to turn, grab her, and make love to her.

  Emma felt her legs go weak as soon as he deserted her and she collapsed to the bed, grateful it was behind her and wishing that was where they both were right now—in bed making love. There was no worry, no pretense with Rogan, he truly wanted her. And to know that he wanted to make love to her as much as she did with him made her all the more eager to do so. She had always feared that an arranged marriage would bring a disappointed wedding night. Not so with Rogan. She had been fortunate to get to know him, care for him, fall in love with him and that made bedding him all the more appealing.