by Johanna Maas
A startled gasp went up around the room as groans and harsh words were muttered as a heated frenzy began to develop.
It was Macay who raised his hand, speaking loudly to help settle all those within the chamber.
"Please, please, let her continue."
"Mother and I were brought back to the Macnab keep. On the way there, we were instructed our names and clan were no longer Stewart but we were of the Sutherland clan of the north. If we were ever asked that is what we were told to respond."
Lizbeth looked at Blake who now stood across the table from her, a saddened smile upon her face.
"For if we had breathed anything to the contrary, for they did not even wish the servants to know, they said they would sneak in the dead of night and kill you, father and my brothers. I had no alternative but to believe this would be done if I ever spoke to the contrary. And I could not have that on my conscience."
The tears fell down her face, her fears now completely revealed to her clan as she continued to speak of her mother.
"In the Macnab castle, mother and I lived in the family rooms above, but had no freedoms and were treated as they would their prisoners. We were never left alone and would always be locked in our rooms sometimes during the day, but always at night. For the first five years we were there, mother and I lived together and had each other for comfort and for strength. Then one night, mother went to bed and she simply did not awaken in the morning."
Lizbeth closed her eyes as the tears flowed down her cheeks and her shoulders began to tremble as she clearly remembered the misery of that day. She breathed deeply as she attempted to push the heartrending visions back so she could once again continue with her story.
"A short while later it was announced I was to marry the Macnab's eldest son on my eighteenth birthday. For that would be the day I could legally choose on my own. Of course, it would have been forced upon me for I really had no choice, but since my parents could not sanction the match it would be finally legal for them to create the union they so desired."
Lizbeth gazed up and into Blake's eyes once again, holding them while needing him to understand her sincere gratitude.
"I would have legally been a Macnab right now and my fate sealed forever since my eighteenth birthday has finally just passed had the Campbell clan not chosen to raid on that night."
All three Stewart men looked down at Blake, a questioning in their eyes as they implored him to speak.
"We, too, have our disputes with the Macnab. On that night, we had intended to simply raid the keep and leave our mark." He looked towards and locked eyes with Lizbeth once again as he continued, "I found the lady in a locked room on the second floor and asked her to come with me after I found she was to be wed to the eldest. I was a bit surprised when she willingly agreed. She has been living with us ever since and during these last few weeks has been a guest in our home."
Blake moved his eyes back at the Laird Stewart, a pleading in his eyes as he said, "Please believe me, my laird, I had no idea as to who she was or the fate that had befallen her. I asked her several times and she finally told me she was of the Sutherland. Had I known the entirety of her situation, I surely would have sent word."
Lizbeth looked at her father, confirming Blake's words, "He did not know, father, for the fear of the Macnab pledges to do you harm ran deep. And I thought it my duty to remain silent for your welfare because I truly did not know of their alliances and could not risk your lives. I followed them here when I found out to whom Cait had been pledged, for I knew I had to find out for myself what had become of you…for you did not come for me…"
The last of her words were said so forlornly, so quietly most did not hear. She lowered her head in despair as her breath hitched within her throat and the tears trailed down her cheeks and her shoulders trembled in despair.
Macay knelt down next to her chair while speaking lowly, his own misery heartfelt.
"Lizbeth, we thought you were dead!"
Lizbeth gasped in dreadfulness and in shock of what he had said, knowing it must be true. For she knew in her heart he would not have stopped looking for her if there would have been any hope or any chance at all.
Macay continued, "There was so much blood…and they left bodies. We could not tell they were not you."
The horror of what her brother had just disclosed cut deeply into her heart for she realized at that very moment they had not abandoned her. She now understood completely why they had never come to save her from the wretched life of the Macnab.
Lizbeth turned to her brother who was still kneeling beside her with a pained look upon his face. She wrapped her arms around his neck burying her face within his shoulder, giving into her built up grief of the last seven years. She first cried tears for the pain and the agony of losing her family and then for the death of her mother as the visions of her kindness and her love consumed her. After long moments of reflection, Lizbeth complete misery turned into tears of elation for the joyous homecoming that was now hers.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The hall had begun to empty after the momentous events of the late evening had played out and the night's sup had concluded. Only those remaining were the occupants of the Stewart family's table. Slowly, the men moved to convene in front of the hearth as Lizbeth and Cait sat together at the table.
"Oh, Cait, how I have truly missed my home."
Lizbeth turned to the beautiful woman sitting next to her, the one who was to actually become her sister and took her hands within hers.
"And, Cait, I could not have wished a better husband for you."
Together the women stole a glance towards the grouping of men who stood across the hall and before the blazing fire. Macay's back was to them, but it was clear he stood tall and confident. Lizbeth knew he was a handsome one and was ever so hopeful he would truly please her.
Cait returned her gaze to Lizbeth and smiled softly, truthfully admitting he was indeed nice to look upon and seemed to have a gentle heart, especially where his young sister was concerned. But she understood things between a man and a woman were much more complicated than just that. While she was hopeful for a contented life with her intended, she looked upon him just a bit guarded and with a little bit of apprehension.
Lizbeth smiled as she watched Cait blush slightly at the mention of her brother and truly hoped it would be a good match. She wished for their happiness because these were the two people in the world she loved the most. Lizbeth closed her eyes knowing if she were to be perfectly honest with herself, she had to concede there was yet another to whom she held a very high regard…
Lizbeth moved her eyes over to the group of Highlanders as she looked for the one that could make her insides truly warm at just the sight of him. He stood tall as he engaged in quiet conversation with the rest of the men. She noticed for the first time there were no smiles or happiness within that group. Somber stares and low conversations were being had as well as angered looks shared among them.
With a concern upon her face and a trepidation growing within her heart, Lizbeth looked at Cait and said, "I am afraid, Cait, for what they may be planning for they all look quite serious."
Cait gazed deeply into her eyes and simply nodded her head, understanding the ways of the Scottish Highlanders and their need to avenge the wrongs that were set before their clans. She recognized a true injustice had been committed those many years ago and she knew it could not go unanswered.
She looked back at Lizbeth and wondered if she truly understood all she had revealed within the hall tonight had meant certain war. The thought of it frightened her for she was so fragile. Cait could only hope Lizbeth had the fortitude to accept what must be done for the sake of her clan.
"They are serious, Lizbeth, for I am most certain they speak of the Macnab and the retribution that must be paid."
Lizbeth grew very quiet. She understood their need for revenge but was truly frightened for her clan's safety and angered at the thought of it. She reasoned miserably sh
e had just gained her home and she could not bear to lose any of them now. But she also understood her place and knew she could not speak out of her fears, for they would think she just an irrational child.
Late into the night, the conversations were had with Cait and Lizbeth anxiously waiting for the men to conclude so they both could understand their fates and those of their clans. It was the Laird Campbell and the Laird Stewart who finally broke from the group first, moving across the expanse to stand before the two women. The rest of the men slowly moved forward, flanking their respective fathers.
Laird Stewart took his daughter's tiny hands within his own large ones and began, "My dearest Lizbeth, how we have missed you these last years and how we were robbed of your youth and your childhood. And your mother…"
He looked forlornly into her eyes, not needing to say more but comprehending the pain that was within all of their hearts.
"The Macnab must pay. And we will march on them leaving the day after tomorrow."
Lizbeth closed her eyes, a sadness permeating her body but understanding this was the path agreed upon and one they must take. She knew no matter what she said, no matter what she wished, this was their agreed upon plan. With a sadness she knew she could not embarrass herself nor her father by speaking her mind. She sighed and opened her eyes, knowing she must respond.
"Yes, father, I understand. Please promise me you will stay safe. For I only just got you back…"
He squeezed her hands gently as he sent an unspoken message to her while the silence stretched onward.
It was the Laird Campbell who finally spoke next. "And my dear, Cait." He looked at her fixedly from just a few paces away as he continued intensely, "You will be wed on the morrow, for our clans will unite in this cause and we will fight together as one."
Lizbeth looked towards Cait who sat stoically next to her, understanding her duty to her clan. She closed her eyes gently and inclined her head softly, conceding for the sake of all before her.
Lizbeth looked across the sea of composed faces to find her warrior for she also knew what this meant. It was not only her family going to battle the Macnab but the Campbell clan, too. Blake was gazing at her intently and watching her closely with no emotion displaying upon his face.
She knew she must be strong and not break down for she did not wish him to think she was weak. Lizbeth understood she had begun to change from the moment she had left the Macnab, growing stronger each day and was determined to be someone he could be proud of. And she wanted him to remember her in this way and not one with tears. She realized he had seen that side of her too much as of late.
Her father spoke next, bringing Lizbeth away from the thoughts of her warrior.
"We must all convene for the night, for there is much to do and much to plan and the time for action will be upon us very soon."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It was still more than an hour before the sky would begin to greet the dawn and Lizbeth had not yet slept. She had not even removed the gown she had worn the previous day. She stood now as she oftentimes did when she was troubled, in front of the window overlooking the courtyard below as she silently gazed out into the still night.
Feeling the need for the fresh and chilled air only the out of doors could provide, she quickly donned her cloak and quietly left her room. She moved beyond the darkened great hall and out the doors of the keep and stood briefly upon the top step. As the darkness of the night caressed all around her, she breathed deeply of the predawn air, its frostiness prickling harshly within her chest.
Within minutes, she found herself moving in the stables and searching for her mare. When she located the large gray, she stepped onto the soft hay and grasped her tightly as she rested her forehead upon its neck. She could feel the strength of the beast below her fingers as her warmth provided her comfort. Lizbeth was so lost in her thoughts she did not hear him approach.
Blake had been in the shadows by the hearth when Lizbeth had walked through the great hall. He knew he should not pursue her for he had no right to do so, but his heart would not prevent him from following. He watched closely as she gracefully moved through the courtyard and followed her all the way to the stables. He carefully drew near and stood directly behind her as she held on to the gray beast.
His breath quickened at the sight of her and was wishing intently it was he she was clutching instead of the horse. He watched as her tender hand lightly stroked the animal's hide as it settled gracefully below the mare's neck. As the heat coursed through him, he studied the softness of Lizbeth's hair and the petiteness of her body, all the while silently wishing she would come to him.
As she clung to the beast within the stall, she felt a presence behind her. Slowly she turned and he was there. Blake, her warrior and the one she would finally concede that it was he whom she had given her heart. But she was still uncertain as to his position. She knew there were feelings for when they were near to one another there was a passion when they touched. But she also understood duty and what it meant to be of a chieftain's family, his sister being a true testament to that reality. But at that moment, she did not care and would not allow it to matter for the powerful man standing before her affected her so.
In just two steps, she was within his arms as Lizbeth fiercely clung to him as Blake did to her. She raised her face to his as he brought his lips to hers, at first it was a gentle touch and then it changed to something more as he drew hungrily from her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she entwined her fingers within his hair while leaning her body in close so she could feel her breasts pushed firmly against his heated chest. She arched her back further and moved in nearer causing fiery sparks wherever their bodies converged.
As their senses heightened, they stood as such with their hearts thundering and the fires burning within as their kiss frantically deepened. She moved her arms from his neck and over his powerful shoulders for she wanted to touch of him and feel of his strength. She moved her hands below his cape and could sense his heated skin and the strong muscle below her fingertips. His hardened muscles flexed slightly as she eagerly touched his body and unknowingly caressed his soul.
Blake's heart beat wildly for the woman who was within his arms. As she pressed her body into his, he knew in the depths of his mind he should not have her. But he was unwilling to stop. He moved his hands over her body as he felt her heat. He touched the curve of her back and the length of her leg as he drew her petite body closer to his. He moved his hand to her breast and groaned as its peak came instantly to life with his touch as she arched her back into him with her pleasure obvious. She was more tantalizing and passionate than he ever could have imagined and he wanted her. All of her and now.
He picked Lizbeth up gently and laid her down upon the hay and covered her body with his. His fervor heightened as he continued to move his hands over her in earnest. She was on fire as was he and there was no way he could stop. He moved his hands down her legs and brought her skirt up as he felt the beauty of her thighs underneath. Slowly and tantalizingly he moved his hand until he found her core, the center of her being and the heat of her passions.
Lizbeth knew deep inside what she was doing was wrong and she should stop but neither her passions nor her mind would allow her to do so. For this man who had all but saved her life was going into battle for her and what if he never returned? As her breath came quicker at her excitement beneath his touch, she realized she could not allow him to leave her without her first giving all she had to him. He had surely rescued her from a meaningless life and a horrible existence and her gratitude ran deep. As the heat continued to grow she acknowledged it was so much more than appreciation that moved her. It was the heated desires he caused every time he was near. And she desperately wished to grant him this piece of her. That was of course, if he would take it.
Lizbeth was completely impassioned as the heat of his touch created tremors within and a whimper escaped from the back of her throat. As he moved his fingers over her most secr
et place she moaned heavily and she did not want him ever to stop as she moved her hips in rhythm with his caresses. She kissed him hungrily as the waves of passion consumed her and her breath came heavily as the bright stars exploded within her head. On and on her body trembled in glorious waves of delight.
She felt the heat of his passion as it pressed against her thigh and did not want him to stop for she knew she wanted him to be fulfilled as she knew he was satisfying her. He was over her and moved her legs so she could wrap them around his waist. She eagerly complied as her body was thirsting for more, though not entirely understanding of what.
She pressed herself nearer to him as she silently pleaded for him to take her for she did not wish the pleasure to end. No more prompting was necessary as he slowly entered her, the thrill of it consuming her. When he met her resistance, she could feel him hesitate but she pushed into him further for she wanted him desperately and needed him to feel as heated as did she.
Lizbeth felt a slight pain but did not care as she moved under him and pressed herself forward so he would know she was truly and completely his. She kissed him heatedly as he moved within her, as he claimed her and truly made them one. They moved together as their passions continued to build until she felt him tense as her own splendid release was entirely upon her. She felt the waves of delight once again as his heat consumed her and her heart burst with love.
Blake held her tightly in the aftermath as the realization dawned upon him for what they had shared together and for what he had done to her. No one had ever moved him the way she had. But that was clearly no excuse for the utter weakness he had just shown. He acknowledged miserably it had not been his right to take this from her, this most precious gift she had freely given to him. He was disappointed and truly angered with himself for he knew only he was to blame and understood the offering he had just stolen.
