Page 17 of Savage Kilted Highlander (Temptation in Tartan #9)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

A fter they had spent two lazy days holed up at the inn, Bane was pleased to see how much better Constance was looking. Young and stronger than even she believed herself to be, she had bounced back quickly from the physical ordeal of the journey. The good food and comfortable quarters had soon put roses back into her cheeks.

However, at the same time, he had noticed her mood seemed increasingly thoughtful as the day of their departure grew closer. He guessed it had to do with her admitted trepidation about meeting her father. After learning about how he had kidnapped Tav and imprisoned him, it was obvious she was having doubts about what kind of man he was.

Bane felt almost sorry when the day he planned to leave to return to the castle dawned. Though he remained single-minded in his determination to successfully complete his mission to rescue Tav, he was nevertheless found himself growing increasingly distracted by Constance, to the point where he was beginning to seriously question his chosen method of abduction.

He found he could no longer look upon her simply as a means to an end. Her sharp tongue, quick wit, and surprising resilience both disarmed and impressed him. It was hard for him to admit to himself that she sparked feelings within him that he could not quite identify, and that he was increasingly drawn to her. This was problematic while they were sharing such confined domestic quarters, more specifically the bed. It naturally bred a certain level of familiarity, which was beginning to encroach on his ability to keep his distance and not show his growing fondness for her.

On the third day, after a good breakfast in their chamber, they set out on well-rested horses for the journey back to the castle.

“It is awfully cold and bright out here, but I’m very glad it is not snowing or raining,” Constance remarked when the horses were brought out for them. She stood wrapped up in her cloak, shielding her eyes against the pale wintry sun that sat in a dazzling azure sky.

“Aye, ’tis a good day fer travellin’. With luck, it’ll stay like this fer the next few days, and we should nae havetae face as much hardships as before,” Bane said, frowning as she held out her wrists to him.

He shook his head. “There’s nay need tae tie ye, is there?” he asked. “Seein’ as I’m takin’ ye back tae yer faither there seems nay point in ye runnin’.”

She looked pleasantly surprised, and she smiled as she lowered her hands. “Thank you, Bane. Does that mean I can ride Lucy?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

“Nay, ye’ll ride up here with me as before.” He patted the front of his saddle.

Her smile faded. “But why? That does not make sense at all. Either you trust me not to run or you do not.”

Bane knew it made no sense, but he did not care. He wanted to keep her close, telling himself it was to protect her. But if he were completely honest, it was also because he liked having her next to him. “Let’s say I trust ye halfway,” he told her as he lifted her up onto his stallion. To his mild surprise, she did not protest any further.

“It is a beautiful day, for certain,” she said, settling against him and looking about her at the surroundings as they went slowly down the road. “See how everything is glittering like diamonds in the sunshine under this heavy frost. The cobwebs on the bushes are like beautiful necklaces.”

“Aye, ’tis very pretty,” Bane agreed, amused by her poetic turn of phrase. “Ye must be pleased tae be goin’ back tae the castle, eh? Tae meet yer faither and Lady Agnes.”

“Mmm, yes, I guess I am,” she replied with surprisingly little enthusiasm.

“Well, ye dinnae sound very keen.”

“I am keen, of course, I am. I shall no longer be your prisoner, and I am looking forward to that. But even so, after what you have told me about my father, I can’t help wondering what my life will be like with him at the castle.”

“Ye think he’s gonnae keep ye locked up in there like yer sister?”

“Well, the question is, why would he not? If he is as fanatical about keeping Agnes safe as you say, then I do not see why he would treat me any differently.” He could not quite make out her expression as she spoke, but he could imagine the little line that had appeared between her arching brows.

“And ye dinnae like the thought of that?”

“I do not. That is the very reason why I left Ashbourne Manor, so that my life would not be controlled by someone else.”

“Ye’re worried ye may be jumpin’ from the fryin’ pan intae the fire with Laird Kerr? That he’s gonnae try tae control ye just the same.”

“Exactly. But if I want to meet my twin then I must hope that will not be the case.”

She sounded so sad, Bane wanted to offer her comforting words. But he was afraid that the more they talked, the more he would want to talk with her, and the less happy he would be to give her up. That was not a good thing, so, he resisted the urge to comfort her.

Few words passed between them as they crossed the stretch of moorland comfortably.

As they stopped to let the horses drink and to rest, Bane presented her with the locket he had been keeping hidden. He was swinging it on one finger. “Ye kept yer word,” he said, genuinely grateful to her for keeping quiet at the inn. “So, here’s yer locket back.”

“Thank ye,” she replied, turning around and lifting her hair aside. “Will ye fasten it for me, please?”

Once again, he found himself confronted with the delicious nape of her neck, with its soft curling tendrils of auburn, and the golden birthmark shaped like a bird in flight. His fingers tingled as they brushed against her warm skin while he fastened the tiny catch, and his manhood stirred in the front of his trews. “There, ’tis done,” he told her at last, forcing himself to step away to a safer distance, unable to control the effect she had upon him.

“Thank ye,” she told him, tucking the locket inside the collar of her new gown beneath the cloak, bestowing one of her brilliant smiles upon him at the same time. “I am glad to have it back, but our arrangement worked out very well, did it not? I have proved I am trustworthy once I give my word.”

Bane nodded. “Aye, ye have.”

“But not enough to be allowed to ride my own horse?”

He tried not to smile. “That’s right.”

After that, she fell into her own thoughts, as did he. He hoped the letter he had written would find its way to her father, and he would soon have Tav back by his side, a free man. In his heart though, he wished it did not mean he would never see Constance again, because he knew he would miss her.

The weather remained cold but fine, and they reached the two giant boulders marking their way down into the valley below much faster than before. Although Constance still hid her eyes from the precipitous drop, they made their way down the sloping pass that had been so treacherous a few days before with no difficulty.

“We’ll make camp near the forest when dusk falls,” he told her as they reached the bottom of the pass and came out onto the narrow, rocky-sided trail that led eventually out onto the moor.

As they rode under the canopy of the trees, Bane was unpleasantly surprised to see several men suddenly step out onto the track a few hundred yards ahead of them.

“Who are they?” Constance asked, sitting up and staring ahead at the group of four.

“Brigands, it looks like,” Bane replied, assessing the group with a practised eye and little doubt in his mind that they were facing an attack. The men were scruffy and unwashed, with the hard-bitten look of ruthless criminals. All four were armed with swords and dirks at their belts, and one had a bow over his shoulder. Bane recognized them as the sort that haunted the roads and byways in search of prey, robbing defenceless travellers of their valuables and then murdering them. While Bane knew he could take them with ease, his immediate thought was to protect Constance.

The men approached them menacingly, blocking their way. Bane slipped from the saddle, lifted Constance down and said, “Take the horses and get behind me while I deal with this.”

Her face had gone white, and she gripped his arm tightly as she stared at the approaching brigands with fear in her eyes. “No, I want to stay with you.”

“Dae as I tell ye,” he growled, knowing there was no time to argue. He pushed her behind him, towards the horses. This time, to his relief, she obeyed and retreated with the beasts a little way back along the track. Bane unsheathed his sword, snatched a dirk from his belt, and turned his attention to the advancing outlaws.

“Look out, Bane!” she cried, and an arrow whistled past his head and sank with a loud thunk into a nearby tree.

He dodged it just in time, but just as quickly had to duck as two more came flying towards him. “Get behind a tree for shelter,” he called back at Constance, terrified she would be hit. He had no time to look over his shoulder to see if she had obeyed, for the brigands were almost upon him.

He glimpsed the rotten teeth of the lead man, a rangy fellow in a red cap, as he suddenly let out a fearsome yell, “Charge him, lads!” His comrades raised their weapons and, roaring, ran at Bane in unison.

Bane did not wait for them to arrive but went to greet them, launching his blistering attack on the leader, clashing blades with the fellow while deflecting the others with savage shoves and kicks. They cursed at him as he made them loose their balance and stagger backwards before gathering themselves and charging at him again.

The fight required little effort on his part and was over pitifully quick. Not only was he much bigger and in better fighting condition than either of the men, but he had also trained to fight as a lad and often sparred with the warriors at the castle. Using the narrowness of the track to his advantage—it restricted their movements, making it hard for them to swing their blades at him without injuring themselves—he moved with the ruthless efficiency of a seasoned fighter, pressing down on the man in the red cap, his blade swinging like lightening in deadly arcs as he rained blows upon him.

“Ye cannae win, ye’re outnumbered, ye bastard!” Red cap yelled, already beginning to tire beneath Bane’s relentless onslaught. In his unreasoning fury, he met his end first, practically running onto Bane’s sword in his rush to get to him. Bane’s blade went through his chest like a hot knife through butter.

Without pausing for breath, Bane put his boot against the man’s belly and shoved him violently backwards, swiftly withdrawing his blade at the same time. He barely heard his first victim’s dying screams, turning his attention at once to the remaining brigands. The gory sight of their slaughtered comrade did not seem to deter the others but only inflamed their determination to overcome Bane. Two of them attacked him head-on, while the fourth lingered behind them, shouting encouragement as he awaited his chance.

Operating on pure instinct, Bane easily parried the pair’s attempts to overcome him, flexing his wrists, wielding his weapons expertly, answering each retaliatory blow with a volley of fast and deadly strikes that set the air ringing. Mercilessly, he hammered metal down upon them until one man’s blade shattered in his hands. He fell to his knees, dazed and battered, groping for the disintegrated weapon. While still engaged in demolishing his other attacker, Bane kicked out at the downed man, his boot connecting hard with his face with sickening crack, sending the man flying backwards. There was a sharp crack when his head smacked into a tree trunk, and he let out a loud ‘oomph!’ as all the breath was driven out of him.

The fourth man sprang into the gap left by his fallen comrade. Bane faced the final two. Wanting to get it over with as soon as possible, he locked swords with one of the men and deftly flicked his opponent’s weapon into the trees way out of reach. Before the man even knew what was happening, Bane buried his dirk up to the hilt in his neck. The wounded man collapsed sideways to the ground, a horrible gurgling coming from his bloody lips. Bane did him a favour, in his mind at least, by finishing him off quickly by ramming his sword point into his throat.

As he wiped his blade on the enemy’s cloak and sheathed it, he was looking around for Constance, glad he had been able to protect her. He would not deny it felt good. He saw her peeping out from behind a large elm tree a short distance away and he was taken aback to see the way she was staring open-mouthed with horror at the bodies littering the ground. Her palms were pressed to her cheeks in disbelief. She was clearly stunned by what she had just witnessed. She radiated fear.

“Constance, ’tis over now,” he said, going over to her, heedless of the blood that was daubed and spattered over his clothing and face as he looked down at her. “They’re gone now, they cannae hurt ye. They’ll nae be troublin’ anybody anymore,” he tried to soothe her, thinking she was afraid of the men.

Only when she finally turned her head and looked at him did he see that the fear in her eyes was directed at him. Never mind anything else, after what had just happened, she found him terrifying. By protecting her, he’d earned her fear, not her gratitude. He felt unexpectedly hurt by it. He solved that problem by telling himself it was for the best.

It’ll nae be very long before we’ll be parting ways fer ever so I might as well get used to it now. But of course, he did not believe that at all.

Bane could not help but be deeply moved by the terror in Constance’s eyes. Of course, she had never seen such violent bloodletting before, being the genteely brought up lady she was. Seeing four men slaughtered before your eyes is bound to be shocking the first time you see it. He approached her very gently, as one would a wounded animal when trying to gain its trust.

He held out a hand towards her. This time, she did not shy away. She was looking up at him nervously. He tried to soothe her, saying softly, “I’m sorry ye had tae witness that, Constance. ’Tis nae a sight fer yer eyes, I ken. But I had tae kill them or they would have killed us. I had tae dae it tae keep ye safe.” She stared at him wordlessly for a moment, as though unsure whether to believe him. He tried again to reassure her. “The world is a dangerous place, but ye need have nae fear when ye’re with me. I’ll protect ye.”

Then, to his surprise, she suddenly leaned forward and hugged him tightly, ignoring the blood on his clothes as she rested her head on his chest.

“Thank ye, Bane, thank ye fer savin’ me again,” she murmured with a sob. Slowly, he put his arms around her and hugged her too, giving in to the urge to comfort her. It felt good. So good, he was almost able to forget the throbbing pain caused by the wound to lower his chest that he had sustained in the fight. The wound which he had no intention of mentioning to Constance, lest it scare her even more.