Page 13 of Bride takes a Scot

“Come closer,” he said and waved her onward.

Isabella nudged her horse closer, and he snatched her from the mount. She gasped and gripped his tartan. “Hold on, lass.” Declan reached for her horse’s reins and tied them to his saddle then made sure she was settled in front of him. She sagged in his arms, and within minutes, the heaviness of her body and steady breathing told him that she slept deeply.

Now he didn’t need to go more slowly to accommodate her. He made better progress and before he knew it, he was closer to his land. There was only one more wide space to ride through. Isabella continued to hold on to him and he liked the way her arms settled around him. When the winds grew brisker, he shifted his tartan to cover her completely.

Sounds of horses’ thundering hooves came to him. He waited a moment, certain that Clan Murray’s sentry approached. It had to be them because Murray’s men never allowed trespassers. Fortunately, their clans had somewhat of an arrangement in that they could cross Murray lands to save time, thereby taking a shortcut. Declan had stopped at the last steep hill that led toward the open field. At the crest, riders appeared from the woods, and cut him off. There were at least ten men riding with their leader.Damn.

Before he could offer a greeting, Murray’s men surrounded him, and their leader flanked his side. The sentry’s horses shifted, stomped, and snorted, and were as ornery as their riders. All remained silent but glared at him to make known their displeasure at seeing him. Murray’s men might be accepting of their pact to allow them to ride through, but they definitely weren’t pleased by it.

But then, Declan took in the sight of his longtime friend. Dermot’s almost black hair rested on his shoulders. His beard thickened and covered most of his face and his dark eyes held no animosity.

Although he wanted to be on his way, Declan had to show his appreciation for allowing him through. “Dermot Murray.”

“MacKendrick. I suspected that be ye riding through.” His dark bearded face hid his smile but there was a shine to his eyes that alluded to the fact that he likely grinned.

Declan answered him in Gaelic. Dermot Murray, an ally, spoke little English; speaking in their mother tongue was an advantage since he’d rather Isabella not hear their conversation in case she’d awakened. “Aye, I need to get home, or I would have stopped at your keep to pass on the news from Edinburgh.”

Dermot shrugged. “Must not be anything of importance then, if ye did not stop.” He shifted his eyes to survey the field below before looking back at him with one eyebrow lifted. “I saw your brother Silas riding through the other day. He was heading toward Campbell land. I thought it strange.”

Declan suspected his stepbrother was spying on the Campbells to aid in his quest to find out who’d accused him of murder. Silas would be brazen enough to try to oust the knave. “Aye? Silas is a loyal MacKendrick and doing me a kindness.”

“I just thought it strange.” Dermot motioned to Isabella. “Who do ye have there?”

“My wife.”

Dermot hooted. “Och, ’tis the truth? You married? I did not think ye would, not after what happened to Leona…”

“Aye, it’s the truth. Alexander forced me to wed the lass, but I am not complaining.”

His comrade chuckled, motioned to his followers to go on ahead of him, and waited for his clansmen to ride through. “It’s been four years since Leona’s death. Gladdened I am to see yefinally putting that wretchedness behind ye and moving on. ’Tis about time, my friend.”

“Aye, I need to put it behind me. I must go if I want to reach home before dark. Good to see ye, Dermot.” Declan encouraged his horse forward and was about to take the hill when Dermot called out to him.

“Await, MacKendrick. Is your woman bonny? Why do ye hide her?”

He almost chuckled but withheld the urge. “She’s unsightly as hell with moles and bulging eyes. I do not want anyone to see her.”

“Now I know ye speak falsely because ye wouldst not marry an unsightly woman. I’ll stop by after ye get settled and meet the lass for myself.”

“Truly, ye’d be less likely to lose your stomach contents if ye did not. Farewell, Murray.” Declan heard his comrade’s bellow of laughter as he crested the hill and began riding down the other side.

The last thing Declan wanted was for Dermot to spread the tale amongst the Highlands that he had married a beautiful woman. He’d have every laird or Highland man paying him a visit. Declan suspected he might have to keep his gates closed for the foreseeable future.

Isabella’s body pitched toward him, and he held her tightly. She opened her eyes and smiled. Lord, she had a bonny smile and the way her eyelashes fanned her cheeks when she blinked made him want to kiss her. He was about to tell her that she could see the smoke from his chimney when she reached to turn his face toward her with gentle fingers.

“I had a wonderful dream.”

“Aye?” He slowed the horse and waited for her to tell him what was so wonderful about it. Her lips were so close. All he had to do was shift a wee bit closer and set his mouth on hers. Desireswarmed his body, sending heat and hardness through him. If he had more courage, he’d take the pleasure she offered and the kiss he so wanted.

“You were in my dream, and I heard you laugh. It sounded so joyful. Do you ever laugh?”

Declan tilted his head. “Of course I do. Now look yonder, Wife, there is our home.”

She remained quiet for a moment and didn’t look at him when she said, “The wall is…massive. Why do you need to surround your home with such a high wall?”

“We live amongst many clans here in the north and there is always the threat of danger. We protect ourselves.” She held onto him as they crossed the expanse of the field that abutted his clan’s fief.

She leaned back against him. “You’re not on friendly terms with your neighbors then?”