Protection By Her Deceptive Highlander (Iron 0f The Highlands Series Book 5)

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Protection By Her Deceptive Highlander (Iron 0f The Highlands Series Book 5) Page 8

by Emilia Ferguson


  Somebody was clearly working for the English. He just had no idea who.

  “When we’re out of these woods,” Brodgar said hopefully, “we need to rejoin our men.”

  That was one thing that was certain. Much as he hated the delay, they needed to ride together with a larger escort. Had they been just three more men, he felt they could have matched the ambushing soldiers. As it was, their retreat had cost them precious time.

  He was about to suggest they go back up the hill and try and reach the fort, when Lewis called out.

  “I think we’re down.”

  Brodgar frowned, then took a few steps forward and saw that he was right. The ground under his feet was flat – something that he had not felt for an hour that day. They had finally made it.

  The relief that flooded him was crippling. He stumbled back, wanting to sit down. His back found the trunk of a tree.

  “Whew.”

  He and Lewis leaned there together, side by side. It was a moment of absolute relief. He felt lightheaded and he chuckled, knowing that Lewis felt the same way.

  “I thought I might actually laugh when we were hiding,” he admitted. “There was something very funny about hiding in the trees.”

  “Aye, sir,” Lewis nodded. He was also giggling, and soon they were both helpless.

  “When…when I thought my feet might be sticking out, I…oh!” Brodgar laughed, recalling the ludicrous side of the two of them, seasoned knights, lying on the ground trying to keep still.

  “It’s probably lucky they weren’t too careful, sir,” Lewis agreed, laughing too. “I reckon sending the horses down was a grand notion.”

  “Not necessarily,” Brodgar sniffed lightly. “We might still die of cold out here.”

  Lewis nodded. The thought was sobering, and soon after, they stood – without consulting one another – and walked on downwards. They had been walking for perhaps an hour through the gloom, unable to see clearly, when Brodgar blinked.

  “Is that a monastery?” he asked.

  There was a large stone building rising out of the fog. Two or three of the windows showed candles, and there was more than one floor, because one of the lights was a man’s height above the ground. Brodgar blinked, straining his eyes to see through the murkiness.

  “Aye, sir. I reckon it’s a building, anyhow,” Lewis agreed.

  Brodgar felt his heart soar. He had thought that the nearest village was much too far away to reach before they froze.

  “Let’s go, Lewis,” he said swiftly.

  Lewis hung back a little, and Brodgar had to agree with him. Running towards the building, when they had just escaped one ambush, was foolish. They should at least try and sneak up on it slowly, test out what was there.

  Brodgar bent and picked up some stones.

  When they reached the door of the building, he motioned for Lewis to stay back, and he threw one of the larger stones at the door, following it quickly with another. If there were soldiers in there, waiting to ambush them, it would be good to give them a chance to expose themselves.

  Nothing moved.

  Brodgar studied the place, readying himself to throw another stone. The building was tall, with thick walls, the windows covered with shutters. Three of the shutters were open, showing the wavering light of candles.

  He let loose a stone that landed on the door, then another.

  As he watched, the door opened.

  Brodgar held his breath.

  A man dressed in a long tunic, cloak and thick boots came out. He looked around. “Who’s there?” he called. He lifted a lantern and Brodgar took a moment to study him. He was dressed like a monk, his long tunic of unbleached linen, the back sewn to a hood, boots only barely visible below the robes. He cleared his throat.

  “Greetings, Father.”

  The monk twisted around abruptly, staring at Brodgar in alarm. The arm that held the lantern lowered and raised and for a moment Brodgar thought he might drop it in sheer fright. Thinking about what would happen if the thatch caught fire, Brodgar stepped up and steadied his grip.

  “Good evening, Father. I apologize for the shock. My companion and I became lost, and we would like to spend the night with your companions, if we may?”

  “Sir…of…of course.” The monk was still clearly in fright. He looked up at Brodgar and blinked, then nodded, clearly deciding he was of little threat. “You may enter. Have you horses?”

  “We did,” Brodgar said, feeling a little silly. He would never know if sending the horses downhill had been a bad idea or a good idea, but it had led to them being stranded out here, which didn’t help.

  “Maybe you can take the ones the lads rounded up,” the monk said, sounding bored. “There’s two of them. They were running around in the trees. Poor things,” he added, shaking his head disapprovingly.

  Brodgar froze. “Lads?” he said. His heart thumped. Church or no church, if they had walked into the same building as their enemies, there would be blood spilled.

  He froze on the spot. Behind him, he heard the sound of running feet. They were in a hallway, and he whipped around, hand going to the hilt of his sword, just as Lewis, stepping sideways, exclaimed.

  “Luke! You daft man! How did you come to be here?”

  Brodgar felt his heart stop. Relief, warm and soothing, flowed through him. “Luke?”

  He turned around, disbelieving, as the tall, dark-haired man-at-arms stepped around the corner of the archway, embracing Lewis, who cuffed him playfully on the shoulder.

  Luke saw Brodgar, and raised a hand to his forehead in salute. “Lord Brodgar,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here!”

  “Nor was I,” Brodgar grumbled, then grinned. “Luke! What brings you here?” A nasty thought occurred to him. “It isn’t…”

  “Miss Hume is well,” he said, grinning broadly. “We were forced to take a different road. And we were riding near this monastery by nightfall, so we thought to stop over and find warmth. If we hadn’t found those two horses, we’d like as not still be blundering around.”

  “Horses?” Brodgar felt his heart lift. “It’s not…”

  “Amberly is here,” another voice commented, as another man entered the hallway. “And Wraith. They’re both here.”

  “They are?” Lewis’ face lit up. Brodgar had forgotten how much he loved his horse, and his heart ached. How could he have sent him away?

  “Aye. They’re in the stables,” Alex said.

  Brodgar watched as Lewis followed him out, telling him about the ambush and how they’d hidden. He turned to Luke and the monk, who looked at them almost disapprovingly.

  “I will consult the abbot,” he said. “He should know there are two more visitors. And that the horses have an owner.”

  As he walked off, his sandals slapping on the stones, Brodgar looked at Luke.

  “Is everyone settled here?”

  “Aye,” Luke nodded. “All four of us are in the refectory. Miss Hume couldn’t come in…they said women aren’t allowed inside, so she’s staying in the infirmary. It’s over there.”

  Brodgar was already crossing the corridor.

  “In the infirmary?” he began, imagining a cold, empty place full of injured and ill people. His heart twisted and he walked faster, heading across the colonnade ahead of Luke, who fell behind.

  “Brodgar?”

  He stopped dead.

  In the darkness, just in front of him, stood Barra. She looked up at him. He bent down and, before he had time to think about it, he bent down and took her in his arms, his lips pressing hers.

  Employed

  Barra looked up at Brodgar, feeling her heart fill with warmth. In the starlight, his skin was pale, the lines of his face stark. She felt the excitement of his kisses and wished he would kiss her again.

  “Brodgar?” she murmured. “Is it really you?”

  He smiled. “It is me,” he said softly. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  She nodded. “It is strange,” she ag
reed.

  They looked at each other. She found her eyes tracing his face, examining every piece of it, each plane and line. He was so handsome! She had missed him so, and longed for him so much each day.

  “I hear,” he said, reaching for her hand, “that you are in the infirmary. Is that safe?” he frowned. He looked so concerned that she wanted to smile.

  “I think so,” she said. “I prefer it.”

  “You prefer it?” Brodgar frowned. He was clearly interested to find out why, but before Barra could say any more, Luke came out. She went red, suddenly dropping her hold on Brodgar’s hand. What would he think, if he saw her being so intimate?

  “Sir,” Luke greeted Brodgar crisply. He saw Barra and his tone softened. “Dinner is in the refectory. And I hope you come and join us now – if I hear Lewis give one more recounting of how you two escaped ambush, I’ll hit him with a wooden spoon, right on his head.”

  Barra giggled and Brodgar did too.

  “I understand – this is an emergency.” Brodgar laughed softly. “Miss Hume? Will you come in?”

  “I…” Barra stopped mid-sentence, as Luke interposed.

  “She cannot – women aren’t allowed.”

  Brodgar’s expression went dark. He stood beside Barra, giving Luke an indifferent glance. “Well, then. If somebody could bring food over to the infirmary? I’m staying there.”

  “Brodgar…” Barra began, but Luke nodded.

  “Yes, sir.”

  As he went, he gave Barra a worried frown. She swallowed hard, knowing that he was concerned for her safety. She looked up at Brodgar, about to explain to him that he was doing her reputation grave injury.

  As she looked at his face, she melted. He was looking at her with an expression of such care that she couldn’t help smiling.

  “Brodgar,” she managed, though her voice was strained. “This is not a place for being careless – if people think that you and I…” she couldn’t speak suddenly.

  He nodded. “I understand,” he said. He grinned, a sudden flash of white teeth in the dark. “If they’re the sort who could do that in an infirmary, I admire them. I think I’d be too intimidated.”

  Barra had to laugh. “I suppose,” she said. “All the same – we might do better to eat outside, in sight of the colonnade.”

  “I agree,” Brodgar nodded.

  He went to sit beside her on a wall. About knee-height, the structure separated the colonnade from a paved courtyard, the other side of which was the infirmary. He tried to focus on the lights in the windows, trying desperately to ignore the fact that she was sitting beside him, the warmth of her body seeping through her dress and his tunic, making him long to turn and press his mouth against hers.

  “Barra,” he murmured. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  She smiled up at him and nodded. It felt too hard to put it into words.

  “Sir?” Luke’s voice carried to them across the arches of the colonnade. She looked up to see him crossing the stone floor, a bowl in one hand. The contents steamed into the cold air. He grinned. “I have some soup and bread for you. Alex is bringing the rest – the chance to get out of the refectory is a relief.” He chuckled, passing the bowl across to Barra first, who set it down carefully on the wall. The ceramic was hot and she winced as it burned her cold fingers.

  “Why is that?” Brodgar asked.

  “Lewis is boring,” he said.

  They both laughed. Lewis, it seemed, was quite well-known and loved among the officers, trying though he may be. Brodgar took the plate of bread from Luke, and put it on the wall between them.

  “Here,” Alex said, passing Brodgar a bowl of soup. “And now we have to go back. If anyone asks, we can report you’re sitting here like mile stones.”

  Barra laughed, though her cheeks flushed. Brodgar grinned.

  “We’ll be exactly like mile stones if we don’t get hot food in us quick,” he said. “I’ll be lucky if I can move off this wall without freezing solid.”

  Alex laughed. “Eat fast, sir. Then you can come inside, where it’s warm.”

  He turned around and went back to the refectory. Brodgar turned to Barra.

  “I don’t want to go anywhere,” he murmured.

  Barra felt her insides warm. She nodded. “Nor do I.”

  They looked at each other. Gently, he passed her a piece of bread. It was warm and her stomach twisted with need. “Eat something,” he whispered.

  Barra nodded and started to eat. Her body seemed to warm up enough to remember it was cold, as halfway through the bowl of soup she started shivering. Brodgar put his bowl aside and turned around, a frown on his brow.

  “What is it, lass?” he asked softly. “You’re freezing.”

  “I…I’m…alright,” she managed, her teeth starting to clash together as they chattered from the cold. “It’s…fine.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Brodgar said firmly. He drew her against him, wrapping her partly in the warmth of his new cloak. “You’re freezing and you should go indoors, and find a fire to thaw you.”

  Barra looked up into his eyes. He looked down at her.

  Slowly, tenderly, he pressed his lips to hers. Gentle, they moved over her own, touching and tasting. She felt him mouth her lip and she sighed, melting into his arms. His tongue lapped down the seam of her lips and parted them, and she felt her eyes shut tight as he gently pushed his tongue into her mouth.

  “Barra,” he whispered.

  She nodded, drawing him to her, her body melting against him as he bent and tasted her lips again, tender and slow.

  When they moved apart, he was panting for breath.

  “Barra,” he whispered, his hand on her shoulder. “I fear to stay longer. I don’t want to…compromise you.”

  She nodded. Her own breath was racing and she could feel sensations flooding her body, feelings she had never had before and didn’t really understand. She knew what he meant, though – that these feelings would lead to her and he doing what they should not do.

  “We should go.” She nodded.

  “Yes.” Brodgar murmured. “It’s necessary.”

  Neither of them moved. Barra felt the warm, hard presence of his chest beside her own, his breath the same irregular rhythm as her own. She could feel his hand on hers, warm and vital, and she longed to press her breasts to his chest again and feel his mouth, strong and warm, against her skin.

  “I must go. Goodnight, Brodgar,” she whispered.

  “Goodnight.”

  She stood, and he drew her against him and, just for a moment, pressed his lips to hers. His eyes were big, something like desperation in their depths as she looked at him.

  “Goodnight, Brodgar,” she said again, with her own voice raw in her throat. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Without turning around again, she walked swiftly down the path, through the gate into the courtyard, and into the infirmary.

  When she reached the inner room, she sat down on the pallet – she was the only person in the place – and drew her cloak tight around her shoulders, trying to stop shivering.

  “I don’t understand,” she whispered.

  The feelings he awoke in her seemed so intense and powerful, so much more than one should feel when somebody kissed you – or so she imagined. She recalled his dark eyes, looking so soulfully into hers.

  “Brodgar,” she whispered into the silence. “I love you.”

  It was the words she had wanted to say all night.

  Morning came, and Barra woke, stiff and weary, on her pallet. She was, however, warm, which was a pleasant surprise after days spent on the road. She rolled over and sat up, stretching her weary arms.

  “Breakfast,” she said.

  She looked out of the window, a small aperture that faced the colonnade. The sun had risen, enlivening the cold scene and making the stones glow warmly.

  Barra rubbed her eyes wearily, guessing it to be perhaps eight o’ clock. She could not hear the monks at prayer – they would meet at Terce to
pray. She tiptoed out and through the colonnade, and was surprised to see Brodgar, leaning on the wall.

  “You slept well?” she asked. As she cast her eyes down him, she thought he looked weary, but stronger than he had the previous day. His knuckles were bruised and he flexed the fingers as though they ached sometimes. His one leg was bandaged. He was wearing a fresh tunic in a creamy color, a doublet of pale green offsetting his reddish hair.

  “I did,” he said. His voice was gentle. “Yourself?”

  She nodded. Her eyes went down to her boots, as sudden shyness overwhelmed her. The more time she had with his men, the more she learned about him and came to realize that he was an influential man of powerful connections. That she, as a yeoman farmer’s daughter, had been addressing him so easily, seemed strange.

  “I hope we leave today,” Brodgar said softly.

  “Why is that?” she asked, frowning up at him. “I would have thought it was a good place for the men to rest.”

  “It is,” he nodded. “But, well…it’s a bit strict.” He smiled. “And I do not like that you are not allowed inside.”

  Barra felt her heart warm. She smiled shyly.

  “I will be pleased to be on the road,” he agreed.

  “But…” Barra felt her heart tighten. When he was on the road, she would be taken back to the farm! They might be parted without knowing when they would see each other again.

  “How do you like horsemanship?” Brodgar asked.

  “Riding?” Barra stared. “I mean…I don’t know if I like riding or not, Brodgar.”

  He grinned. “I imagine it wasn’t much fun the last few days. Well, it’s just as well, then, that you’ll be doing more of it.”

  “But…”

  “Yes,” he nodded. “By the time we reach the fort, you should be a consummate rider.”

  “But…” Barra stared. She couldn’t quite believe what he had just said. Did he mean it? She was going to the fort?

  “I am sure you’ll be very used to riding,” Brodgar nodded. “And to sewing, too – I imagine you’re quite good at sewing?” he asked with an upwards motion of a brow.

 

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