The Highlander's Honorable Savior (Iron 0f The Highlands Series Book 4)

by Emilia Ferguson

  “I didn’t need to,” Miller chuckled. “I know enough of their secrets for them to have to keep me nice and close now.”

  Or dead, Arthur thought privately, but didn’t want to say it. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat. Bonnie was gripping his hand as if it was the only thing between her and death. He looked down into her face and she looked up at him, eyes round and wide with horror.

  “Arthur, we need to go,” she whispered. He nodded. He stepped back, but Miller was watching them.

  “I am going to get my captain from the farmhouse over there. They’ve been hiding out there for a few days now. And then, he’s going to ask you a few questions.” He looked at Arthur in a way that made him feel lightheaded with fear. “He’ll probably let you go,” he added to Bonnie. “But nobody is going to tell me that I have to. Certainly not him.” He grinned nastily.

  “Let her go,” Arthur said. The voice that came out of him surprised even him. It was dead sounding, like a stone being dropped on dry ground. “You don’t need to involve her in this.”

  Miller shook his head. “No, I don’t,” he said. “But I caught her, and I don’t think I want to let her go.” He grinned and Arthur saw Bonnie’s real fear. “Who’s going to make me?”

  “This,” Arthur screamed. He ran at him, his dagger in his hand. He felt something cold slide past his side and realized that Miller was still holding his knife and that the stupidest thing he could do was to run at a man who had a sharp dagger held before him. However, he didn’t care. Grunting, he raised his own knife and saw it arc in a blow that was aimed for the notch where the big vein pulsed in his shoulder.

  Miller dodged aside. Arthur, carried by the weight he had already put into the stabbing motion, plunged forward, falling face down on the muddy earth.

  “No!” somebody screamed. He recognized Bonnie’s voice. He rolled aside, just as Miller, knife raised, fell on him from above. He felt the blade come down inches from his face. He rolled, feeling the man’s weight on him. He reached up and felt his hands clasp around his throat, starting to choke the life out of him.

  Miller was coughing, grunting, trying to get away. Arthur could feel his hold breaking, and hung on grimly, knowing that he only had a few minutes before his arms would give out. The wound in his side was not causing him pain – not yet, he was too caught up in the fighting for that – but it was drawing on his strength, making his arms shudder.

  Only a minute left, he thought, hearing Miller choke, feeling him, even now, trying to throw him aside. Only a minute, before I’ll have to let go…

  Miller struck him hard on the side of the head and he grunted, rolling sideways, doing his level best to hold on. At that moment, he heard Bonnie scream.

  He almost lost his grip, and then, arms shuddering, he did lose his grip. Miller collapsed, still conscious, but then he heard a sound even sweeter. The sound of racing hoof beats.

  “Arthur!” Bonnie’s voice seemed to come from impossibly-far away. “Arthur! Run now!”

  Arthur heard the words, but the sense didn’t sink through into his skull. She was telling him to run, but Miller was still holding him down, and…

  Miller was on the ground, he realized dimly, his hands around his neck, gasping for breath. He had a second or two, no more, before the hoofs arrived and their luck turned to whatever the horsemen intended for them.

  Arthur shot to his feet. He was so tired he could barely see, barely think. However, he managed to reach Bonnie, who grabbed his hand and dragged him, exhausted and coughing, from the clearing.

  The two of them ran into the woods together.

  Trust

  Bonnie ran and slipped and stood and stumbled and ran. She grabbed Arthur, hauling him away as the English soldiers, alerted by her scream, flooded the space.

  Shouting erupted behind them. She didn’t understand the words, but she knew that it was hostile shouting. She heard an arrow being loosed and screamed and dragged Arthur into the safety of the trees. He ran and she slipped and he grabbed her hand.

  “Bonnie! You saved me,” he whispered.

  She looked into his eyes, seeing surprise there, and hesitant joy.

  “You saved me,” she whispered back. “You came to find me.”

  At that moment, the sound of a man shouting was suddenly dangerously close. Bonnie heard him and almost screamed, but Arthur grabbed her hand and then the two of them were falling, rolling, tumbling down the slope towards the bottom of the hill.

  Bonnie felt stones, mud and twigs tear at her dress. She rolled and skidded, and felt her hand cut by a rock. Crying out, she let her weight take her, fast and erratically, to the end of the small hillock.

  Arthur rolled beside her. She heard him grunt and cry out as some part of him hit into a tree, and then he rolled silently and they both came to rest at the bottom, near a stream.

  Bonnie rolled onto her side and sat up. She felt pained and bruised, but she also felt relief flooding through her like a dizzying draft. She looked at Arthur.

  He was pale as linen, his eyes ringed with gray. His mouth was open and he panted, his chest clearly paining him. He caught her eye and sat up.

  “We did it,” he said.

  “You got us to the bottom,” Bonnie nodded.

  “Not very happily,” Arthur chuckled, wincing as he rubbed his knees. They were seated on the tree root, the spreading boughs overhead hiding them from whoever might be peering down into the valley overhead.

  “But quite quickly.” Bonnie laughed.

  “Aye,” Arthur let out a hiss as he straightened his elbow, bruised and aching. “You’re quite right there.” He smiled and she felt her heart melt a little in that smile.

  “You recognized him, I saw,” Bonnie said, as she stood. They both limped down along the side of the hill. Bonnie had little idea of where they were, save that she knew where they had been when they stopped, and that if they backtracked from how they arrived here, they’d head towards the farm.

  “Of course, I did,” Arthur nodded. “I’d know that imp-from-hell anywhere. I thought they killed him.”

  “The English?” Bonnie frowned. A nasty thought settled inside her. Arthur had been in the same group of men as Miller had, heading to join the resistance. Had he joined because of Miller? How could he do that, when he’d called her a witch?

  “Aye. Fool pretended to be part of the resistance. All he is, is a rotten liar.” He spat.

  Bonnie tensed. She held his hand, but now she let it drop. She looked up at him, feeling a sense of betrayal fill her slowly. Arthur had been her friend, yet he was willing to share board with Miller, a man who wished to burn her? To face the enemy, defending Miller and being defended by him, even though he knew the man would burn defenseless women? Would have burned her?

  “Bonnie?” Arthur said nervously. “What is it?”

  Bonnie shook her head. She felt her head fall forward, tears wanting to fall. If he didn’t understand her betrayal, how could she tell him? She had thought she could trust him! She had helped him escape, and this was what he thought – truly thought – of her? That her enemy was somebody he wished to save?

  “You went with him,” Bonnie said, knowing she was childish to cry about it, but being too weary and shocked to stop herself. “You trusted him. You knew he would kill me. And yet. And you…” she sobbed. Sitting down, filthy and bruised, her dress and hair caked in leaves and debris, she let her face fall into her hands and sobbed, uncontrollably and pained.

  “Bonnie,” Arthur said, and she felt his weight press to her side as he came and crouched beside her in the dirt. “Bonnie. Bonnie, listen. I didn’t go with him. I didn’t know he was there. I went with Alec. Alec was the recruiter. Alec asked me.”

  “No,” Bonnie murmured, rocking as the sorrow and pain became, quite suddenly, too much for her to bear. “No. You went with him.”

  “I didn’t. I never saw him. Not until the morning when we left. I wanted to leave. I wanted to get back to you. I knew I was being s
tupid. I regretted it. But I thought that I owed it to you, to join the army. I thought that it was the right thing to do for our future. I thought that.”

  “You didn’t?” Bonnie stopped. She let her hands fall to her sides and stared up at him, disbelief growing as the words sank, slowly, into her shocked heart. “You wanted to go? Because I wanted it?” she shook her head as his words made sense. Not that they made any sense.

  “Yes. I thought that I owed it to us. To our future. That I would help to push the English out of our land, so that we could live forever in a land safe from their presence. That’s what I thought I owed us. As my duty.”

  “You thought that you’d die, so we could have a good future together?” Bonnie stared at him, eyes stretching as the illogical statement claimed her utterly.

  He smiled shamefacedly. “I suppose I didn’t think that through much.”

  “You didn’t think at all,” Bonnie said, but she found there was no bitterness in the words. She looked at him, sitting there, with dirt streaked down his arms, his hair tangled with leaves and mess, and couldn’t feel anything but tenderness.

  “No,” he said. He smiled at her, a lopsided smile that showed how handsome he was and made her stomach tingle with real warmth toward him. “I guess I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

  “You thought you would give me a safe future, whether or not you died trying to,” Bonnie said, tears starting to fall, silent and liquid, down her face and into the collar of her dress. “But you didn’t know that I don’t want a future, now or ever, without you.”

  Arthur gaped. She would have laughed, for the expression was so comical. However, there was so much feeling in her own heart that all she could do was stare, in sweet surprise, as he reached over and came to sit beside her. His arms wrapped around her and held her close and she rested her head on his shoulder and wept.

  Later, aching and soaking wet, they stood and trudged back up to the other bank that made the small gully where they hid. It was darker now, the sun starting to move down with inexorable speed towards the western hillside. It would be dark in three hours, Bonnie guessed. She shivered.

  “We should get back,” she said.

  “Yes,” Arthur whispered into her hair. “And I want to get you safely home, and tomorrow I will make you my wife.”

  Celebration

  The chapel was a dark room.

  Bonnie blinked and listened to the words that Brother Lucas said as he held the cross before them both. The dark space was the spare building at the farm, the closest thing that Mr. Hume could find at short notice for a chapel-like space. They were getting married today, and there was nothing that anyone could do to prevent that.

  Bonnie glanced sideways as the priest recited a particularly long section of Latin phrases, and let her eye rest on the beautiful prospect that was Arthur, standing beside her.

  She tried not to smile as her body filled with a familiar tingling sensation, studying Arthur from the corner of her eye and noticing, with growing excitement, what a beautiful man he was. Broad shoulders held a long neck, his head bent forward a little, face grave, as he listened to the priest. He had a long nose, but slim and handsome, and that firm jaw was fine and strong. His lovely eyes were focused on the priest, frowning a little as he tried to focus.

  As far as Bonnie knew, he understood no more Latin that she did, which was to say, not at all. She let the words wash over her and listened to the tune of them, like they were music, not trying to make too much sense of them. All the while, she waited for the sound of the words he’d warned them to listen for, and the pause thereafter, when they would have to make their responses.

  She moved her legs beneath the linen of her dress, loving the smooth cool feel of it on her skin. It was new, at least for her. Barra had found it on the farm and they’d spent a day sewing on it, altering it so that it fit her slim waist and had a new neckline, cut to a more fashionable angle. She glanced down at it, feeling growing excitement. She had never worn anything so fine.

  She looked sideways again, seeing Arthur was wearing a green tunic she would never have thought he had. She guessed Mr. Hume probably found it for him, it was made of fine linen, dyed a rich green that brought out the contrast of his eyes, skin and hair.

  A sound brought her attention back to the present, something fluttering against the rafters. A rat, she decided, scratching up there. Perhaps a bat, or a bird.

  She glanced up, as she felt Arthur tense and the priest stare at her. She realized with some surprise that he had got to the important place. The place where she had to promise something.

  She cleared her throat. “Volo.” It meant “I do.” The one Latin word she had ever been taught before.

  She felt her toes tingle. She had promised to be Arthur’ wife. She turned fractionally to the right as Arthur was addressed by the priest in a tirade of fluent Latin.

  “Volo,” Arthur responded. I do.

  She looked at him and he smiled at her. The priest was still speaking, but, in her heart at least, he had already left. There were only the two of them, in the whole world.

  He said some more words and then stepped back, and Arthur stepped towards her. His eyes tender and soft, like she’d never seen them, he put his hand on her shoulder. He looked down into her eyes and she felt her spirit soar with what she saw there. He smiled.

  Gently, with infinite tenderness, he bent to her. His lips pressed hers and gently encased them, his tongue warm where it touched the tip of hers.

  She sighed and pressed against his mouth and he leaned back, looking into her eyes.

  “We’re wed.”

  She smiled and stared at him, the words sinking in. She couldn’t quite believe it. After all their adventures, all that fear and incomprehensibility, they were together.

  Nobody could part them.

  Bonnie felt her heart soar.

  Brother Lucas had stepped back into the darkness, giving them time to be alone. She heard him shut the book he’d brought with him – a huge thing, bound in pieces of handsomely-worked hides. She turned and smiled at him.

  “My thanks,” she said. “You have come far to do this.”

  “Not far,” he smiled. “Never too far to bring His blessing to people.”

  Bonnie smiled and Arthur shook his hand. She smiled up at him, feeling pride, joy, excitement and more emotions that were suffusing her so absolutely that she could barely think.

  She felt a little unsteady on her feet and leaned on Arthur’s arm and together they walked from the room.

  “Bonnie!” Barra threw herself at her with all the precision of a trained bowman. She felt her friend crush her in a loving embrace. Laughing, she stepped back a little and looked into her face.

  “I’m so happy,” she said.”

  “Grand!” Barra exclaimed, ignoring Bonnie’s tears. “Come on! We have a feast to tackle.”

  Bonnie looked up at Arthur, who was laughing, and joyfully threaded her arm through his. They headed to the barn together.

  The feast was a blur of voices. Bert, Alec and the men were crowded onto benches that Barra and Mr. Hume placed there. The table from the kitchen had been moved in, and it was groaning under the weight of things from the storehouse. Bonnie stared in amazement. She had never seen so much food before!

  “Thank you,” Arthur stammered. Bonnie nodded, too touched to be able to speak. She glanced at Arthur, who smiled at her.

  “Sit down here, my wife.”

  Dazed and overwhelmed, she joined him.

  Arthur’s leg pressed against hers, beside her on the bench. She felt it and her mind filled with excitement and a little apprehension. After the feast came the wedding night. Now that it was so close, she felt some nervousness. She tried to recall the moment in the forest, when she had pressed against Arthur and felt no fear, but it was hard to bring the memory to mind in the midst of all the chaos.

  Arthur glanced down at her, eyes sparkling. It was not too difficult to remember, after all.

  The
feasting seemed interminable. It had been evening when they left the room, but now it must be night, the lanterns lit about the feasting space. Bonnie watched as Mr. Hume, as the eldest male and the owner of the premises, stood.

  He said a few words and the men at the benches cheered him on, beating on the boards with enthusiasm. Bonnie blushed and looked down. She felt strange, being the center of attention. Then Mr. Hume left. By so doing, he signaled the feast had ended, finally.

  Bonnie felt her heart thump. One by one, their guests left. Alec stumbled out, Brodgar behind him. Bert was last, throwing some ribaldry at Arthur, who blushed.

  Barra waved to Bonnie, then tiptoed away. Bonnie felt her heart thump. She was alone with Arthur.

  “Shall we go up?” Arthur murmured.

  Bonnie nodded. She felt her words stick in her throat. Her heart beat wildly. She looked down.

  Arthur took her hand and he led her gently into the yard.

  They followed the path around the back of the stables and to the farmhouse. Here, they went in through the door to a room where a fire burned low. Bonnie breathed in the smell of herbs strewn in the fire to sweeten the air and smiled, her heart tightening up with feeling. Barra had cleaned and tidied the place for their bridal bedroom.

  She held her breath as Arthur came to her. Standing before her, he put his hands on her shoulders. His lips descended onto hers.

  She pressed her lips to his, feeling her breath catch in her throat. She had no idea what to expect, what he would do. She had no experience of what this would be like. Men, she had seen before. Violence, she knew intimately. Yet what was going to happen here and now, in the marriage bed, she had no idea.

  Arthur looked into her eyes. Tenderly, he kissed her again, moving so that she leaned back, toward the covered bed.

  Looking into her eyes, he spoke to her. “Lass,” he said, “I don’t expect anything from you. I will not force you, and you needn’t do anything you don’t like. Tell me, and I will stop. Here there is no danger for you. Nobody will harm you. I’ll wait for the rest of my life, not to hurt you.”