Claimed By The Highlander (The Highlands Warring Clan Mactaggarts Book 1)

by Anne Morrison

  Reade balled up his fists.

  “If you think for a single second...”

  Ava raised her hands, quelling her men with a single snapped word. To Reade's relief, they fell back, but he couldn't help but wonder whether a single woman could hold back that many men, especially ones who looked as hungry as hers did.

  “Calm yourselves,” she snapped. “We're after cows; we don't hunt poor little girls who haven't a friend besides the MacTaggart brat.”

  “I'm not a poor little girl—” Elizabeth began, but Ava was turning back to them.

  “You'll get no trouble from us. We've no urge to give up any girl to the English who doesn't want to go.”

  Reade nodded warily.

  “Then you'll permit us to leave, without harm?”

  “Aye. But remember this if we meet again.”

  “I will.”

  Reade turned to Elizabeth.

  “Come on. We need to get going.”

  “But your wound...”

  “We don't have a choice, I'm afraid. Come on. The moon's up, and we can make good time going north.”

  Even in the moonlight, Elizabeth's face was as pale as bone. It made something in him ache to see her so distraught, but they both knew that if they didn't move, they might be in a terrible situation come the morning.

  Silently they gathered their things and after boosting Elizabeth up on Finnian's back, Reade mounted up behind her. Ava watched them go, and if the bastard of Clan Blair thought anything of their situation, Reade couldn't tell what.

  The moon was up, and they were coming to the lands that Reade knew like the back of his hand. More than once, he and his brother had risked their necks and that of their mounts racing through the Highlands in the dark, and it was only through great good fortune that he had survived it know the area so well. The moon lit their path like a lantern, and though it would be as bright for their enemies, Reade thought that the soldiers he met wouldn't trouble themselves with searching at night.

  “Do you really think she won't tell the English about the way we've gone?” Elizabeth asked a short while later.

  “Ava? No. She won't. Bastard or no, she's a Blair through and through. They may not care for the other clans, but they like the English even less. She wouldn't reveal us. Her men might, but that's only if they break with her, and that is a harder thing to do than you might think it.”

  Mounted in front of Reade, Elizabeth leaned back against him, her head fitting perfectly under his chin.

  “I am sorry. For all of this.”

  “You don't need to say that, lass.”

  “But I do. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have that wound in your shoulder, you wouldn't be running from the English in the night... none of this would be happening to you.”

  Reade thought that his heart would break from how dejected she sounded, as if every bit of her was beaten down. He wondered what in the world he could say to comfort her, but in the end, he only had the truth.

  "Elizabeth. There is no need for you to paint yourself so darkly when all of that blame lies on your uncle. You did not give me that wound, a soldier in his employ did. You did not want to run from your place in Ayr, and you did not even want to come north from London at all. Is that right?"

  "Of course, it is, but..."

  "You have nothing to be sorry for. Because... I am not sorry."

  "What do you mean?"

  There was such a bewildered tone in her voice that Reade squeezed her tightly against him, pressing his face into her thick hair. She smelled like wood smoke and leather, wool and her own lovely skin, and he wanted more than anything to take away her fright and her shame.

  "I would not have missed meeting you, touching you, kissing you, for all the world, no matter what devils came for me."

  Elizabeth made a soft sound, but Reade didn't realize that she was crying until she reached up to wipe her eyes.

  "I'm sorry. I don't mean to weep like a little child. I am tired and cold, and..."

  "I understand, lass. All is well for the moment. If nothing else, in this moment, we are safe, and we are together."

  There was no time to stop and comfort her. The English soldiers hunting for her were behind them, and even if they weren't, there were brigands in the mountains who were as Scottish as he was who would do them if they were unwary.

  Instead, they kept riding, and eventually, Elizabeth's tears stopped. He could all but feel the exhaustion trembling through her limbs. It felt as if she was using all of her energy just to stay on the horse.

  Slowly, however, Reade felt her body relax, and he kept one arm around her waist. Finnian's smooth gait, the warmth of their bodies together, and the quiet of the woods lulled her into a sleep, and unless he absolutely had to, Reade was not going to be the one to wake her up.

  As they rode, however, Reade's own mind started preying upon him, and it would not leave him alone about Devon Montgomery.

  Elizabeth had a great deal of faith in a man she had never met, a man who was only related to her through her mother's side. Would Montgomery protect her as she thought he would, or would he only turn her over to her uncle, glad to be rid of a young female dependent when he was defending a castle?

  Montgomery was something of a legend in the Highlands. He had been given his command and sent off to defend a castle only newly captured from the Scottish. It was a suicide mission, or at least, it should have been. There was some talk of Montgomery being in disgrace, to have earned the dangerous posting at Leister Castle close to Dun Warring. Then, to the disbelief of the Scots and English alike, he had held it.

  Reade knew there were no stories of brutality from Montgomery, nothing of the rape and murder that seemed to follow the English wherever they went in the Highlands, but the man was considered an implacable foe, the rock that could break the wiliest Highland warbands.

  And this is the man Elizabeth thinks will protect her. Reade’s unease with the situation only continued to grow.

  Then, too, there was too much to consider with the Earl of Sussex himself. The man was an enemy of Scotland to be sure, and though Reade might have assumed that English perversity was enough to make him want to marry his own niece, he didn't think that was all. What was the old man's game, and how did it involve Elizabeth?

  When he looked down at Elizabeth, when he heard the sad and restless sounds she made as she slept, Reade felt a deep ache inside him, and a fierce rush of protectiveness as well.

  That was what made him turn west rather than east at the river, and through it all, she slept on in perfect innocence.

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  chapter 28

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  Elizabeth woke up just as dawn was beginning to slide through the threes. She looked up to see the sky a lightening blue rather than a deep and inky black, and for a moment, she simply snuggled back against Reade, who was curled up to her back and holding her close with one arm over her waist. Then she remembered what had happened and where they were, and her eyes widened.

  The last thing she could remember was being on the road to Dun Warring again, feeling as if the world was ending, and she was the reason for it. She remembered Reade's arms around her and his soft voice wrapping around her better than a wool blanket. At the same time that she took comfort in it, she also felt a deep shame that she had brought this trouble to him. The guilt and the pain worried at her soul like a hungry dog, and she realized she must have fallen asleep from exhaustion alone.

  Now they were curled up together, Finnian hobbled nearby. They were both wrapped up in Reade's cloak, and she wondered at how easy and commonplace this had become. Back in London, she would have never been so close to a man who was not related to her, who was not her husband. Now it felt like the most natural thing in the world to be snuggled up with Reade, and that in its own way was intensely shocking.

  She twisted in his arms, hearing him grunt as he awakened, too.

  “Reade, where are?
Why did you let me sleep?”

  “Because you needed it,” he said with a yawn. “And I did as well. Finnian probably would have stopped us from going over a cliff, but I am not sure that I wouldn't have pushed him to it. Not as well healed as I thought I was, I suppose.”

  “Oh. Oh, no. Are you well? Does your wound pain you?”

  She reached for Reade's bandages, but he took her hands in his instead.

  “Peace, lass. It is only weariness. We made good distance last night and put some space between us and the ones chasing you.”

  Elizabeth could feel that same old fear rising up inside her, but it was dimmed now. In the Highlands, her uncle felt very far away, and whether that was foolishness or not, she wasn't sure.

  “Do you want to sleep more?”

  Reade shook his head, sitting up to stretch. She thought of what they had done by the moonlight, what they had almost done, and she felt a hot blush cross her cheeks again. He grinned at her, almost as if he could read her thoughts.

  “I am not sure sleep is what I want to be doing with you, lass.”

  Elizabeth was shocked by the fact that she wasn't more shocked. Reade was bold in a way she always thought would leave her terrified, but here, with the man who had protected her, cared for her, taught her to build a fire and taken a sword to the shoulder for her, there was no fear. There was only desire, and she swallowed.

  “Reade... I can't. You know I can't.”

  There was a faintly mutinous look on Reade's face, but then he shrugged.

  “I know no such thing but have your way. Things look different at dawn than they do at night.”

  No, they don't, Elizabeth thought wistfully. Not with you anyway.

  They got up and had a hasty breakfast out of Reade's bag. She blinked when he climbed the tree they were sitting underneath and came down with two small brown eggs.

  “Are we going to cook those?”

  “No need. Here.”

  She watched in surprise as he bored a hole in the shell with the very point of his knife. He showed her how to suck out the insides raw, and though, at first, she gagged at the runny texture, there was something in her body that cried out for warmth and the feeling of fullness in her stomach.

  “My brother and I, when we were watching the herds, we did this to supplement our rations. Our mother had to keep us out of the hen house sometimes when we wanted something more than dinner.”

  “When we wanted something between meals, my mother would send Benji and I out to buy roast chestnuts.”

  She wondered at how differently they had grown up, but Reade laughed.

  “We'd roast them ourselves. Bit of salt, bit of honey if we were good. Best treat from winter ‘til spring.”

  “What did you have in the spring then?”

  There was something easier about them this morning, Elizabeth realized. They were talking about their lives, and there was no guardedness there any longer. Despite their rather dire circumstances, she felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted off her shoulders. There was nothing between them any longer. She wasn't a maid, and he wasn't a blank-shield soldier. They were only themselves, and for some reason, that made her laugh.

  Now he could tell her about stealing a cow with his brother from a neighbor's herd, only to be caught and chased by a pack of vicious dogs and lose the cow after all, and about how he had once caught a fish in the river that was longer than his arm and ended up giving it to a strange woman in the hills in exchange for luck all his days.

  “Do you believe that she really gave you luck?”

  “Well, I've not lived out all my days yet, but today I think perhaps she did.”

  He gave her such a warm look that Elizabeth blushed, and she looked straight ahead as she told him about her brother Benji, how her father and mother had loved each other so, and how London never rested, no matter how dark it was or how cold.

  “They sound like good people,” Reade said.

  She glanced up at him.

  “You sound very easy for all that they are English.”

  Reade snorted.

  “I don't hate the English any more than you hate the Scottish, lass. Unless you do and you have simply been hiding it very well?”

  "No! I don't hate anyone. I mean... you hear stories, of course."

  "That Scottish people drink the blood of babies, and we eat the corpses of our enemies?"

  "Um..."

  "Because we hear the same about you."

  "Oh! That's not true at all. And no, I don't hate anyone. It's a waste of time, as my brother Aidan would say. I would say most in the Highlands only wish to be left alone and to rule ourselves."

  "I hope you can have that," Elizabeth said, and Reade chuckled softly in her ear. Perhaps it was disloyal not to hate the Scottish, but at this point, England had done her more harm than Scotland.

  A short while past noon, Reade dismounted, offering her a hand down, too.

  "To spare Finnian a bit," he said, but she wondered if there was something uneasy in his eyes.

  Elizabeth let it go for a bit, but the silence between them grew weighted, and as the sun crossed the sky, there was a feeling of unease at the back of her mind.

  "Reade," she said finally. "Something is wrong, isn't it?"

  He kept walking, and the look on his face was so serious that her unease turned to full alarm.

  "Reade, what's going on? Is someone following us? If they are, you should have told me. Why wouldn't you..."

  Reade turned to her, and for a moment, it was like looking at a stranger. Then his eyes warmed, and he was Reade again, pulling her into his arms.

  "You mustn't be afraid. There is nothing here that will harm you. Nothing at all. I promise. I won't let anything bad happen to you."

  "Reade? What are you talking about? Please. You're frightening me."

  Instead of replying, he took her by the hand and pulled her in for a deep kiss. Elizabeth might have asked herself why she allowed such a thing to happen, why she would still sink into his arms when she knew that there was something strange going on, but in that moment, there was nothing but instinct.

  When Reade kissed her, it brought all of the passion and sweetness that had kindled between them to the surface, and she couldn't get enough of it, couldn't get enough of his mouth on hers, of the need that rose up low in her belly.

  Her mind flashed back to the night before, when there was nothing in the world except for them, and in that instant, she knew that she could deny him nothing, nothing in this world or the next...

  "Well, little brother, welcome home."

  The voice was like a bucket of cold water spilled over her head, and she pulled away from Reade as if he were burning her. Reade growled and pushed her behind him, and then she could see that they were not alone on the forest track.

  It was a company of four mounted me, dressed plainly but as easy in their seats as English lords.

  The man in the lead had spoken, and when she looked at his face, she gasped, because except for a scar under his eye, he looked just like Reade.

  No. Reade looks like him. Reade's the younger brother, and the older stayed in MacTaggart lands, which means...

  "Reade, Reade, what have you done?" she whispered, but he refused to answer her.

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  chapter 29

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  For a moment, Reade thought that Elizabeth was going to run. She wouldn't have gotten far, not if chased by five men on horseback who knew the territory like they knew their own beds. The look of pure panic on her face cut him to the heart, and somehow, the look of stony resilience and pride was worse.

  Then Aidan and his men had dismounted, and Reade was swept into his brother's arms as his friends pounded him on the back in friendly greeting.

  Aidan and Reade were only a year apart in age, but Aidan was the taller and heavier of the two. Reade had never really known life without his brother close by until he had gone sout
h, and the feeling of seeing Aidan again caught him as an unknown relief.

  “Didn't know whether you would be coming back in spring or summer, but heaven over us, it's good to see you.”

  Seeing a face that was as familiar to him as his own and hearing the Highland accent that he had kept as quiet as he knew how again sent a flood of relief through Reade so powerful that he almost shook, He clasped his brother close for a moment, and used the moment to murmur his ear.

  “Aidan, I need to speak with you alone, and I need you to keep everyone from asking the girl any questions for the moment.”

  Aidan narrowed his eyes at that.

  “What kind of trouble have you brought home on your tail this time, Reade?” He

  turned to his men.

  “All right, it's back home with my brother now. He's been gone long enough that we're not going to keep him standing on the road a moment longer.”

  They mounted up again, and Elizabeth stiffly allowed Reade to boost her up on Finnian's back again. The men cast several curious looks at Elizabeth, but they followed Aidan's example and kept a little distance between them. It allowed Reade to speak to Elizabeth, keeping his voice soft and as gentle as he could.

  “Elizabeth...”

  “Where am I?”

  There was no hiding it any longer, and Reade sighed.

  “You are on MacTaggart land now. My home.”

  “And why am I here?”

  Elizabeth had always struck Reade like a ray of sunlight, warm and unexpected in winter, blazing with heat and life in summer. Now though, she could give the north wind a competition in chilliness and Reade knew that he deserved it.

  “Because my first duty is to my clan. Because you are the niece and apparently bride-to-be of the Earl of Sussex, and we do not know what that means.”