Mercy stepped forward, smoothed her hands up Graham’s chest, and pressed so close her sweet scent surrounded him. “Please?” she said soft and low. “I yielded to your wishes once before to set her aside and look what came of it. I cannot refuse her, and I swear she won’t slow us down.”
Graham ground his teeth. Something about Janie wasn’t right, but he couldn’t place what it was. Graham scrubbed a hand across his face, doing his best to ignore the tempting warmth of Mercy pressed against him. The woman wasn’t fighting fair, and she was wearing him down. “The girl understands we shall ride long and hard?”
“I will make certain she understands.” Mercy stretched on tiptoe for a quick kiss. “Thank you.” She gave his chest a victorious pat and hurried away to her horse.
The horse looked at Graham, flicked an ear, then bared his teeth and tossed his head as if laughing at his inability to control his wife.
Graham stomped over to his own mount, saddled up, and wound the reins around one hand. An ominous weight settled deep in his gut as he nodded to the other riders. Alexander. Duncan. Crestshire. Marsden. May God watch over them all and bless this journey with success.
Alexander waved him forward. “Lead us, brother.”
“Stay close to me, aye?” He waited for Mercy’s subtle nod. She fell in beside him without a word. Janie followed her, then the other four took up the rear.
Graham urged his mount to the fast pace they’d keep as long as the horses’ energy allowed. Thankfully, the fierce warhorses bred by the Neal clan were known not only for their strength and size but their stamina.
A deep pull of the fresh morning air reassured him that no threat of rain rode upon the wind even though a bank of fluffy white clouds shadowed with gray bellies marred the sharp blue of the sky. The rising sun warmed his flesh, urging him onward. They’d make good time in this fair weather, and good timing was sorely needed.
“If Crestshire’s missive doesn’t reach the king before we arrive, what shall we do?” Mercy asked as she rode beside her husband. “What if the king has left Kensington? He travels during this time of year.”
Graham had wondered the same thing but dared not say it. What was the use of worrying over something he couldn’t control? He kept his gaze focused straight ahead. “If His Majesty is there and he’s no’ received the message, we shall surprise him with our visit. If he’s not there, we will find where he’s gone and follow.”
Mercy didn’t respond and that concerned him. He wished he could shield her from this. Leave her back at Tor Ruadh and handle it himself. But good sense bade him bring her. King William would be hard pressed to accept the word of a Scot without Lady Mercy present to corroborate his story.
As they entered the pass, Mercy spurred her mount to a full gallop and took the lead. Graham understood completely. She needed to get through the pass, especially this section of it, as quickly as possible. Her wounds, both internal and external, were still too raw for her to stomach this area for very long.
He tried to catch up with her, but her horse had superior speed. She was getting too far away. He couldn’t protect her with so much distance between them. “Mercy!”
Her glance back assured him she’d heard him, but she still didn’t slow down. “Dammit, woman!” Graham pulled free his pistol and fired a shot into the sky. This was not the proper beginning to this accursed journey.
Reining in her steed, Mercy came to a halt. She cast a wild-eyed look at the woods and the rising cliffs around them. “Who did you see? Where are they?”
Graham rode up close enough to take hold of her arm and give her a gentle but stern shake. “Did I no’ tell ye to stay close? No matter what?”
Mercy wet her lips and looked away. “Forgive me. I had to get through here as fast as I could.”
Graham’s protective rage faded to a frustrated irritation. He slid his hand down her arm, took hold of her fingers, and kissed her knuckles before pressing them to his cheek. “I understand that, but ye must keep your head about ye and stay close.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “The enemy triumphs if we give them our wits on a platter.”
Alexander, Duncan, Crestshire, and Marsden thundered to a stop around them.
“I say,” Marsden huffed with a red-cheeked grin. “That was quite the jaunt.”
Graham leaned to the side and looked past them, down the road from whence they’d just came. “Where’s the girl?”
All the men shifted in their saddles and turned to stare back down the trail.
“She was right behind us,” Duncan said. “We rode past her.”
“I’m sure she’s just beyond that bend. We’ll see her shortly,” Alexander added with a wave of his hand at the curve in the road. “The lass wasna sure at all about riding. She’s most likely struggling to catch up with us as we speak.”
Mercy turned her mount around. “We should go back for her.”
Graham snatched hold of her reins, yanking them out of her hands. “Duncan will go back.” He turned to Marsden. “Ye go with him, aye?” This part of the woods gave him the chills as well. They’d gone well past the point where the first ambush had occurred, but they’d not cleared the pass yet. There was still another good mile of narrow, winding road prime for attack.
Duncan and Marsden turned their horses and rode until they were well out of sight.
“I dinna like this.” Graham shifted in the saddle, staring at the point of the road where they’d disappeared until his eyes burned with the need to blink.
“She should no’ have fallen that far behind,” Alexander said, fidgeting in his own saddle.
Duncan and Marsden reappeared with Janie’s horse trailing behind them.
“She must have fallen.” Mercy yanked her reins back from Graham and urged her horse forward.
Graham, Alexander, and Crestshire followed close behind until Graham spurred his mount forward ahead of them. He was damned tired of this feeling of losing control. He’d had his fill of it. “Ye found the horse. Any sign of the girl? Where she might ha’ fell?”
Duncan and Marsden shared a glance, then Duncan focused his troubled look on Graham. “I dinna think she fell. We found the horse beside the road. Thought she might ha’ stopped to relieve herself or wretch from the rough ride, but we searched and found nary a sign. No broken branches, no crushed leaves, nothing.”
“She appears to have disappeared,” Marsden added. “No footprints. Almost as though someone lifted her from the back of her horse and spirited her away.”
Graham turned his mount. “We need to leave this place. Ride hard and dinna stop ’til we reach the bridge. We’ll stop and water the horses there.” He pointed at Mercy. “Ride hard but stay at my side, ye ken?”
“But Janie…We must search for her. How can we leave her?” Mercy made to retrace their trail, but Graham blocked her way.
“Nay.” He shook his head. “We canna risk it. She didn’t fall or leave any sign of dismounting from her horse. There was no sign of struggle, Mercy. Do ye ken what that means?”
Mercy stared at him, then looked back at the road, her mouth tightening into a hard, fierce line.
“Do ye understand, Mercy?” Graham repeated. They had been tricked again. Janie was a traitor planted among them to gather information.
Sparing a last nervous glance at their surroundings, Mercy nodded and turned her mount. “Lead on, husband.”
She understood now. He could shield her from it no longer. And she sensed it just as he did. Someone watched them. Ready to pick them off one by one at the most opportune time. He knew in his heart that no ill had befallen the maid. This had to be Edsbury’s doing. The man planned to use the maid as a witness even if he had to torture her to make her say what he wished. Graham grit his teeth as his horse pounded along.
They finally reached the bridge, and Graham dismounted before his horse sloshed into the water. He helped Mercy dismount, hugging her to his side. The feel of her centered him. “We’ll rest here for a bit. Give the horses
a chance to catch their wind.”
Mercy stared back in the direction from whence they’d come. “What do you think happened to her? I want the truth, Graham.”
“’Twas too clean for highwaymen.” Graham strode forward, scanning the horizon as the rest of the men dismounted and led their horses to the stream. “More of Edsbury’s mercenaries and the Campbells. Sassenach troops dinna possess such stealth.”
“As much as I hate to admit it,” Lord Crestshire said as he joined them. “The man is right. This was not the doings of His Majesty’s guard.” He turned to Graham. “It was my understanding that Campbell and his men had been ordered to report to Fort William.”
“A Campbell obeys the orders that suit them.” Graham pointed toward a thickly wooded area right below a plateau overlooking the pass. “There.” He’d nearly missed them. Two horses, very possibly three or more. But two for certain. One with a single rider. The other with two riders—one of them short and dressed in drab clothes with a light-colored covering in the front—Janie’s apron. The white cap fringed with the fuzzy curls of red hair confirmed the girl’s identity. They disappeared into the protection of the copse, but not before Graham spotted them. At this distance, he couldn’t discern the pattern of the rider’s plaid. But he’d bet his pistols the man was a Campbell. The other rider looked to be wearing trews.
“Will they hurt her?”
Graham could tell by the hitch in Mercy’s voice that his dear wife still wrestled with her conscience. “They’ll use her as a witness against us. They’ll only hurt her if she refuses.”
Mercy’s mouth tightened into a hard line and she nodded. Moving to her devoted horse’s side, she rubbed his withers and pressed her forehead against his sturdy neck.
Graham envied the horse’s ability to give his wife the comfort he couldn’t provide. He blew out a long, disgusted sigh. He was a large part of Mercy’s dilemma. Had been from the start. Thank God the woman still loved him in spite of it.
Glancing up at the sky, Graham gathered his horse’s reins and looked to the others. “Time to move. We’ll go slower since we rode hard for such a stretch, but they’ve some travel left in them yet this day.”
“Aye,” Alexander agreed, mounting, then scanning the landscape. “And open land ahead of us for a good while. We need that for now.”
Duncan, Marsden, and Crestshire followed suit, waiting with their attention focused on Graham as he walked over to Mercy where she stood beside her horse, staring off into the distance. The woman had known mostly tragedy. Her strength filled him with awe. But how long could such strength last? She looked spent, ready to give up.
“Come, dear one,” he said. “We best be on our way.”
Mercy blinked as though waking from a dream, turning to him with such sorrow reflected in her expression that Graham gathered her up into his arms and held her. He didn’t speak. Didn’t know what to say.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered against his chest. She hugged him tight, then pushed away, lifting her chin and giving him a tremulous smile. “We will get through this and return to Tor Ruadh to have our babies. Will we not?”
“Aye, m’love.” Graham nodded, forcing himself not to reach out and touch her. Her fragile strength forbade it, and he’d do nothing to risk the composure Mercy struggled to maintain. “We’ll fill the place with our braw, bonnie bairns. Lassies as beautiful as yourself, and sons as stubborn as me.”
“Yes.” Mercy’s smile grew as she took her seat in the saddle. “Let’s be on with this so we can put it behind us, yes?”
“Aye.” Graham mounted and waved them all forward. “Onward.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The gnarled roots at the broad base of the ancient oak cradled her perfectly as Graham pounded into her. Mercy tightened her legs around his hips and dug her nails into his shoulders. She needed this. Graham gave her strength, gave her hope, gave her the excruciating ecstasy of escaping the madness of the world for a moment lifted out of time. A soft shriek tore from her throat as sensation after wondrous sensation exploded through her, spinning her into welcomed oblivion.
Graham growled out a huffing groan, shuddering as he held her pinned against the tree. Gasping for breath, he kissed her upturned face and smoothed her hair away from her damp temples. He pressed his forehead to hers. “I thought this would help us sleep better and no’ disturb the others in the camp. But I no longer think that’s true. I willna be able to lie beside ye without wanting ye again. I canna get enough of ye, m’love.”
Mercy squeezed her legs tighter around him. “And I, you. But we do need to try to sleep when it’s our turn. You said we are to leave before dawn.” She didn’t add that currently, they were supposed to be keeping watch while the others slept. Thankfully, Marsden patrolled the other side of camp. If her husband felt safe enough to fill their time with loving rather than watching the woods for the enemy, she’d not say anything.
Graham slid his hands under her bottom and lifted her, stepping back from the tree. His resigned sigh as she unwrapped her legs from around his hips and slid to the ground made her smile. She always hated the parting of their bodies too. Recovering her unique pantalettes from the ground, she shook them out before donning them. A pat to her hair smoothed the errant tendrils back in place, but it was still quite tousled. She fanned her heated flesh. They’d ridden hard, and the day had been quite warm. Surely, Graham wouldn’t mind her bathing in the pool near camp. They still had time left on their watch.
“While you check with Marsden, I’m going down to the water to freshen up.” She waited as he mulled her proposal over, his scowl deepening at the prospect.
Her heart fluttered at the way the blue-white light of the moon washed across his powerful features, making him appear mythological. Graham wasn’t the only one stricken with unquenchable lust. Cool water splashed across her flesh would be most welcome. “I promise I’ll stay at the pool. I won’t be long.”
Graham nodded. “Ye tucked your blade back in place, aye?”
Mercy patted the space between her breasts, the weight of the dagger and its carved haft giving her a sense of security. “It is. And I promise when I’m washing, I’ll keep it close at hand on the bank.”
“Dinna be gone overlong.” Graham stepped over the roots of the tree and took to higher ground. While scanning the woods, he motioned in the general direction of the water. “When ye’ve finished, go to camp and seek your rest.” He looked back at her and grinned. “I’ll try to control m’self and no’ wake ye when I join ye on our pallet.”
Longing washed across her all over again, forcing her to pull her dress away from the sweaty stickiness of her flesh. She lifted her pantalettes to her knees and cast a teasing glance back at Graham as she made her way down the slope. “I’m a very light sleeper. You are most welcome to join me in my dreams.”
Graham rewarded her with a quiet chuckle as he moved off deeper into the woods, climbing the low ridge surrounding the area.
Mercy glanced around. Good. Alexander, Duncan, and Crestshire were so quiet they had to be sleeping. She hiked her skirts even higher, reveling in the air kissing across her thighs as she made her way down the embankment to the water.
A wall of limestone rose at one end of the pool. Bubbling water reflected the moonlight, tumbled down the layers of rocks, and emptied into the small, circular pool that narrowed on the other end and wandered off into the woods. A perfect place for bathing.
Mercy shucked off her clothes. No wonder she’d grown so warm. She should have had her seamstress fashion a set of pantalettes without so many layers of petticoats attached. Modesty and the possibility of nearby danger bade her keep on her chemise that only reached her mid-thigh.
Mercy eased into the cold water. Goosebumps rippled across her skin, and her nipples tightened as she moved forward until waist deep. She splashed the water across her arms and shoulders, then submerged to her chin. She dove downward, swimming across the pool, reveling in the peaceful silence under
the water. The serenity of the moment filled her, strengthened her for whatever lay ahead.
Kicking her way to the deepest part, she dipped her head back, and worked her fingernails across her scalp. A bit of the rose-scented soap Catriona had shared would have been nice, but Mercy was still grateful for the cooling embrace of the spring. She swam back to the spot where she’d disrobed and climbed out onto the moss-covered bank. As she reclined, she indulged herself with a brief moment of staring up at the stars and the bright waxing moon.
A long yawn beset her. Time to move before weariness overpowered her. Forcing herself up, she shook out her clothes and donned them, wishing there had been time at least to rinse out her pantalettes and for them to dry. But she couldn’t risk it.
As she tucked the dagger back in place, a rustling sound from the far side of the pool caught her attention. She froze. She barely breathed as she scanned the area, praying the noise had simply been some foraging creature or even Graham patrolling the area.
The rustling grew louder. Mercy took shelter behind a boulder, crouching low and peering around it, afraid to call out for Graham or anyone from the camp. What if it were just an animal? It didn’t sound too loud. Whatever it was had to be small. And it was on the other side of the waterfall. She shouldn’t disturb the others from their much-needed rest.
Her breath caught in her throat as Janie stumbled out from behind the bushes, bathed in the blue-white light of the moon. The girl crawled to the pool’s edge and scooped up handfuls of water, first to drink, then to splash across her face. One arm clutched tight to her side. Every move she made caused a twisted grimace. Mercy could tell that Janie’s lip was swollen, even split. It looked to have once been bloody. She’d been beaten.
Mercy held fast, fighting against the urge to rush from her hiding place and help. What if the kidnappers were still about? What if they waited in the woods while Janie tended to her wounds? There was little danger of the girl running. Janie moved as though the slightest twitch pained her. Guilt filled Mercy. They had misjudged Janie again. Abandoned her. Left her to be treated with cruelty.
The Age of Knights and Highlanders: A Series Starter Collection Page 76
