Highlanders for the Holidays: 4 Hot Scots

by Glynnis Campbell

  When she turned to make her escape, the stern-faced guards stood in front of the door, blocking her way. Behind her, she heard the chieftain speak, and the guards stepped aside and swung the door open. As it closed behind her, Lily ran blindly, neither knowing nor caring where she went.

  Chapter 11

  “Lily! Lily, wait!”

  She heard Roderick above the pounding of blood in her ears and ran faster. Her chest hurt as if were squeezed by a giant fist. She was desperate to get outside where she could breathe. She saw a door ahead and burst through it only to find herself in another torch-lit corridor.

  Roderick caught her arm and spun her around.

  “Let me explain,” he said.

  “No need,” she said. “’Tis abundantly clear.”

  “Ye don’t understand—”

  “Your clan needed a seer, and ye thought I was one,” she said. “Don’t tell me more lies. That is why you brought me here.”

  She should have known he had not done it to protect her. What a fool she was. She had even begun to believe he cared for her.

  “Did ye forget that ye were half dead when I found ye?” he said. “I brought ye with me because ye had nowhere else to go and no one to care for ye.”

  “And I’d still be lying on that hillside if your clan didn’t need a seer.”

  “I didn’t even know ye were a lass at first,” he said. “How can ye believe I would have left ye there to die, no matter who ye were?”

  “You could have left me in Ayr, but by then you’d convinced yourself I was this woman your grandmother foretold.” She was so angry her vision blurred. “You invented an excuse, claiming the town wasn’t safe.”

  “It wasn’t safe.”

  “Nay.” She swallowed. “You decided to do whatever you must to persuade me to come with you.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” he said.

  “Yes, it was exactly like that,” she said, choking out the words.

  * * *

  How had things gone so wrong? Roderick did not know what to do. God help him, Lily was on the verge of weeping.

  “’Tis why you took me to bed,” she said, pointing a finger at him.

  “That was not the reason.” Her accusation stung. Making love to her had affected him in ways he still did not understand. And yet a sliver of guilt niggled at him, making him feel lower than dirt. Though it had not been the reason, he had believed that making love to her would make her more amenable to continuing the journey with him.

  “You pretended you wanted me.” She shoved his chest with both hands, but tears were flowing down her cheeks. “You made me believe it!”

  “I did want ye. I do want ye,” he said, gripping her arms. “How can ye doubt it?”

  He was in serious trouble. Lily was not the sort of lass who shed tears easily. Would she ever forgive him?

  “I admit that I did wish to persuade ye to come here to Islay,” he said. “But making love wasn’t something I planned. It just happened. And I’m glad it did.”

  “Is that so, Highlander?” she said, putting her hand on her hip.

  Ach, she was calling him Highlander. Not a good sign, but he preferred facing her anger over her tears.

  “Well, ye troubled yourself for nothing,” she continued. “I can’t be that seer you’re looking for because I don’t have The Sight.”

  “Whether ye are a seer or no, I became responsible for ye when I saved your life,” he said. “And when I took ye to bed, that changed everything.”

  “That changed nothing. You’re not responsible for me. I don’t belong to you,” she said, poking his chest with each point she made. “And I’m not the woman you’re looking for.”

  Was she saying that to dissuade him, or did she believe it?

  “Ye cannot fight fate, lass,” he said.

  “If I had The Sight,” she said, “I would have known not to walk to the border and risk dying on that hillside, now wouldn’t I?”

  “A seer cannot always see her own fate,” he said, making it up as he went. “Have ye considered that ye were on that hillside because I was meant to find ye?”

  Perhaps they were fated to be together.

  She stared at him for a long moment, and he wondered if she shared the same thought. But then she spun away to face the wall, as if she could not stand to look at him. He watched her profile, illuminated in the glow of the torchlight.

  “You’re a thick-headed man,” she said. “I want to go home.”

  Her declaration pierced him. Though she had been so frightened of the London mobs that she traveled hundreds of miles alone into a strange land to escape, she would rather return than be with him.

  “I’ve told ye, ’tis too dangerous to sail the open sea with winter upon us.”

  “I don’t care,” she said, folding her arms. “I’m going anyway.”

  “The Lord of the Isles wishes ye to remain on MacDonald lands,” he said. “No boat will take you away against his wishes.”

  When she squeezed her eyes shut and pounded her fist against the wall, he felt as if a giant hole had opened beneath him, and he was falling fast.

  Chapter 12

  “I’ll take ye back to your chamber,” Roderick said, gripping her elbow.

  “Don’t touch me.” She jerked her arm away. “I don’t need you to escort me. I remember the way.”

  “’Tis not safe for a lass to walk about on her own with drunken warriors everywhere.”

  She brushed away an angry tear. Arguing would be pointless, so she fixed her gaze ahead and marched down the corridor.

  “In the morning after you’re rested,” he said, “we can discuss how to change the chieftain’s mind and avoid this marriage, if that’s what ye wish.”

  If that’s what she wished? Was he daft? He had deceived her. It gave her no comfort that he, in turn, had been deceived. When she remembered the horror on his face upon learning that he was expected not just to deliver her but to wed her, Lily had to hold her breath to keep from weeping—which infuriated her all the more.

  “Don’t pretend you wish us to marry any more than I do,” she snapped as she marched up the stairs to her guest chamber. “Though I expect your chieftain would reward you well for suffering with me as a wife.”

  There was no possibility she would let that happen.

  When they reached the door, she was assaulted with the memory of the passionate kisses they had shared at this very spot on hour before.

  “Give me time,” he said. “I’ll find a way to make this right.”

  She bit her lip as he brushed a stray tangle of hair from her cheek. Despite everything he’d done, she had to fight the temptation to lean against him and rest her head against his chest.

  “Lily,” he said, and rested his hand on the back of her waist, drawing her toward him.

  For a moment, she was caught in the treacherous memory of how it had felt to be wrapped in his arms as he said her name and moved inside her. The enchantment he wielded on her was so strong that she wanted to believe he cared for her, that it had not all been a lie.

  Before she weakened, she ran inside, slammed the door in his face, and threw the bar across. While he called her name and pounded on the other side, she leaned her back against the door and slid slowly to the floor.

  * * *

  Roderick sat in his guest chamber drinking far too much, though his celebratory mood was long gone.

  He had a nagging feeling that he ought to go back to Lily’s chamber. Each time it pulled at him, he took another drink and stifled the urge. When she slammed the door in his face, he had banged on it until his hand was bruised. It was the middle of the night now. She needed her sleep, and he should be sober when he tried to make amends to her.

  Winning Lily’s forgiveness would not be easy. And how in God’s name was he going to mollify his chieftain when he refused to wed her? He sure as hell was not going to force Lily to be his wife.

  He took another long drink.

  He woke
up with a start, dreaming he heard Lily call his name. Squinting against the daylight eking through the narrow window, he saw that he was still fully dressed, sprawled across the bed.

  His throat was parched, his tongue felt like sand, and he had a blinding headache. He got up and splashed water on his face from the ewer. As he drank down a cup of stale ale he found on the table, he looked out the window.

  Through the hills, he had a narrow view of the bay and the sea beyond. Something caught his eye—a dark red sail small as his thumbnail from this distance, disappearing over the horizon.

  The Spaniard’s ship. He remembered Lily and the Spaniard talking with their heads together during supper. Damn it, he knew it in his gut that she was on that ship. If she was, he would sail after it and fetch her.

  He was strapping on his sword when a fist pounded at the door loud enough to make him wince. He swung open the door to find one of Alexander’s personal guards.

  “The Lord of Isles wants you,” the guard said. “Now.”

  “There’s something I must do first.” Roderick was desperate to go to Lily’s chamber in the hope of proving his instincts wrong. And if his instincts were right, he was going after her.

  “Nay, ye must come at once,” the guard said, shaking his head. “The chieftain is in a fury.”

  A few moments later, Roderick strode into Alexander’s solar, fuming with impatience.

  “Your Sassenach disappeared,” Alexander greeted him.

  Roderick’s heart nearly stopped in his chest. Lily was gone. She must have left in the night, with drunken Highland warriors at every turn. Anything could have happened to her. She could be lying in a field, raped and bloody.

  “Good God,” he said, “I must find her.”

  “I sent men all over the island looking for her earlier,” Alexander said with an icy glare, then he added through his teeth, “While you slept.”

  “She may have boarded that Spaniard’s ship,” Roderick said, anxious to be on his way. “I’ll go after her.”

  “No need,” Alexander said, drumming his fingers on the arm of his elaborately carved chair. “I already have her.”

  Praise God. Relief coursed through Roderick’s limbs. “Where is she? Is she all right?”

  Alexander slammed his fist on the arm of his chair and roared, “I’m not accustomed to being disobeyed!”

  Roderick had been so worried about Lily that he had failed to appreciate that the Lord of the Isles was enraged.

  “I honored that English lass by welcoming her to the great clan MacDonald, and I made clear my wish that the two of ye wed.” Alexander got up and paced the room with his hand clenched around the jeweled hilt of the dirk at his belt. “Yet I must send warriors searching every path, every cottage, every boat, looking for the wretched lass.”

  “I understand Lily has tried your patience, but she’s a Sassenach and doesn’t understand our ways.”

  “She was found on the Spaniard’s ship,” he spat out, “dressed as a lad.”

  “Let me speak to her,” Roderick said. “I’ll persuade her that she must respect your commands.”

  “Your skills under the blanket must not be up to your reputation, as ye failed to persuade her yet,” Alexander said. “But perhaps she’ll find ye more appealing after she spends some time in the dungeon.”

  Roderick staggered back a step. “You’ve locked Lily in the dungeon?”

  Chapter 13

  The dungeon was so dark that Lily could not see the rats, but she heard them skittering before her feet as she paced her tiny cell. Rodents were less likely to bite if you kept moving. She had learned that useful lesson when her grown idiot brothers locked her in the cellar, hoping to make her cry and scream, the last time she was fool enough to visit them.

  At each turn, she cursed someone. First she cursed the Spaniard for giving her up so easily. As soon as a dozen Highland warriors brandishing huge swords boarded his ship, he pointed to where she was hiding behind a barrel on the deck.

  Next she cursed the Lord of the Isles, the great chieftain of chieftains, for sending the men to catch her, and she cursed both him and the men for locking her in this filthy cell.

  Then it was Roderick’s turn, and that was a long list. She must have walked half a mile back and forth, back and forth, as she cursed him for each wrong he’d done her.

  Lastly, she cursed herself for wishing Roderick had been there when the men caught her. Somehow, she did not think she would have ended up in the dungeon if he had been. Like a fool, she had even called for him when they carried her into the cell, though he was nowhere in sight.

  She came to an abrupt halt as something else occurred to her. Good God, what had she done? Or rather, failed to do.

  Now was just a fine time to realize she had never prepared that tincture to prevent conceiving a child from her night of sin with Roderick. How could she have forgotten? Even if she were not locked in this godforsaken dungeon without her bag of herbs, it was far too late now.

  She started pacing again, but faster, spinning around again and again in the cramped space. But she could not outrun her thoughts. The reason she had not taken the tincture was painfully clear to her now. Deep down, she wanted a child.

  She wanted his child.

  A door creaked somewhere above her. When she heard footsteps on the stairs that led down to her cell, she finally stopped her pacing.

  She squinted against the sudden torchlight that shone through the iron grate of her cell.

  “Lily?”

  Relief flooded through her at the sound of Roderick’s voice, and she chastised herself for it. He had fooled her with false kindness.

  She had not let anyone hurt her in a long, long time. No matter what, she would not let the Highlander past her defenses again.

  * * *

  Roderick’s heart lurched when he saw Lily in the torchlight through the iron grate. She looked much like when he first met her—tired and dirty and dressed in lad’s clothes—and utterly pathetic. Thinking she would be more amenable to what he had to say while behind bars, he resisted the urge to unlock the door at once and pull her into his arms.

  He leaned against the grate and folded his arms. “I’ve made a deal with my chieftain to get ye out of there.”

  “I’m not marrying you,” she snapped before he could get out another word. “If that’s the agreement you’ve made, you can tell him I’d rather remain in his dungeon until I rot.”

  Roderick sighed inwardly. Her brief imprisonment had not cooled her temper.

  “I’ve managed to persuade Alexander to let me take ye to my grandmother’s.” That had been no easy task after Lily’s attempt to defy him by running off. “You’ll stay with her for the winter.”

  “And after the winter?” Lily maintained her defiant stance, but he could tell by the tilt of her head that she was willing to listen now.

  “If my grandmother determines ye don’t have the gift to be our clan’s next seer—”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then you’ll be free to return to London in the spring with the blessing of the Lord of the Isles.”

  “You’ll understand if I don’t have much faith in the old woman’s ability to see into the future, as it was her prediction that got me into this trouble,” she said. “What if she still says I am the one she foretold?”

  “She won’t.”

  “But if she does?” Lily persisted.

  “Then you’ll have to wed me,” he said, “or return to this dungeon until ye rot.”

  “And what happens to you if I choose the dungeon?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

  “I’ll be rotting beside ye.”

  He did not add that Alexander had said he’d throw them into the same cell and leave them there until Lily gave into Roderick’s charms—or tired of the rats—and agreed to the marriage.

  It never paid to defy the Lord of the Isles.

  * * *

  “There’s a hot bath waiting for ye in the guest chamb
er,” he said as he unlocked the iron door. “We set sail for Skye in an hour.”

  Though Lily would be glad to wash off the filth of the dungeon in a hot bath, it annoyed her that Roderick had been so sure she would agree to go to Skye. She only had because it would be far easier to escape from an old woman’s cottage than from the Lord of the Isles’ dungeon.

  “Alexander granted me this time alone with ye,” Roderick said, “but there are guards at the top of the stairs who will take ye to your chamber and then to the boat.”

  “Fine.” She started to march past him, but he caught her wrist.

  His touch threatened to undermine her control.

  “Ye gave me a bad fright when I thought ye were on that ship,” he said. “My parents were lost at sea in a winter storm.”

  “Don’t pretend you care,” she said, glaring up at him.

  “And what were ye thinking, going off on your own at night with drunken warriors everywhere?” he continued. “Then ye put yourself in the hands of that slippery Spaniard when ye must have known he had plans to seduce ye.”

  “Now that’s calling the kettle black,” she said. “At least the Spaniard did not plan to trap me forever through deceit.”

  “I know you’re angry,” he said, and wiped a smudge from her cheek with his thumb. “But ye can’t truly believe I took ye to bed to acquire a seer.”

  “Your performance was impressive,” she said. “Your chieftain can’t fault you for failing to apply yourself to the task.”

  A dangerous glint flashed in his eyes. Good. She wanted to make him angry.

  “Ye think that’s all it was?” he bit out.

  “Ach,” she said, imitating him, “no sacrifice is too great for the clan.”

  “Damn it, Lily,” he said, digging his fingers into her arms. “It wasn’t like that, and ye know it.”

  “It must be a grave disappointment to find out that I’m not who ye thought I was,” she said. “All that trouble, and the poor girl doesn’t have The Sight after all.”