Page 20 of Savage Kilted Highlander (Temptation in Tartan #9)

CHAPTER TWENTY

“ W hen we get through the forest, we’ll be nearin’ the outskirts of yer faither’s lands,” Bane said the following morning as they rode beneath the leafy canopy in the crisp, wintry air.

“Oh, good,” Constance said, but she was not sure she really meant it. Yes, she was excited at the prospect of seeing her true family at last, yet she also knew it would mean the end of this extraordinary liberating odyssey which she and Bane had shared. It had given her the rare chance to learn a lot about herself, and she was rather proud of the subtle changes she noticed in her.

She did not enjoy the harsh conditions any more than she had at first, but she appreciated little things a lot more. She no longer complained automatically about every inconvenience. Instead, she focused on keeping pace with Bane, finding herself observing him more closely, noticing the way he moved with quiet efficiency and the way he instinctively scanned their surroundings for threats. His unwavering focus and unshakable resolve were inspiring to her, and she realized she felt safer out in the wilds with him to protect her than she ever had under her stepfather’s roof.

It was around midday when they dismounted on a particularly narrow stretch of the track. She led Lucy by the bridle as she followed along behind Bane and his stallion. Suddenly, she tripped on an unseen tree root and stumbled into some brambles by the side of the path. She hastened to free herself but in vain.

“Oh dear, I am stuck! There are so many thorns,” she cried, letting go of the bridle as she struggled to keep her balance. “If I fall all the way in, I fear I shall never get out.”

He was at her side in an instant. “Hold still. The more ye struggle, the more tangled ye’ll get,” he warned. She stood perfectly still, watching transfixed as his rough, capable hands patiently, delicately untangled the thorns from the fabric one by one, working slowly to free her without damaging the material too much. His closeness made her shiver. Even so, she was utterly unprepared for what came next.

She was bending over so he could get access to a particularly problematic thorn, when she suddenly felt his fingertips gently brush the nape of her neck and his lips descend upon her skin in the softest of kisses. A jolt shook her as she realized he was kissing her birthmark!

“I love that wee spot,” he murmured softly, his voice low, unguarded, and very close to her ear. Strange sensations rushed through Constance’s body, a wave of heat and excitement washed over her, leaving her with a sense of longing for more of his touch. The moment was so intense, she could hardly breathe and she stood completely still, willing him to continue. But no sooner had it happened than he quickly pulled back, as if forcing himself to maintain control.

But the intimate caress and the vulnerability he had shown her by his admission, had started a fire in Constance, that she struggled to tamp down as he went on painstakingly untangling her skirts from the thorns in awkward silence. Even after she was free and they were moving again, she could feel the skin of her neck tingling from his kiss.

It was the first time she realized that he was attracted to her in the same way she was drawn to him, and it shocked her profoundly. He wanted her! And after what had happened, she knew she wanted him too. She wanted him to kiss her and not stop at her birthmark, but to kiss her all over! The fire inside her told her that everything she had felt for him boiled down to one thing: Desire. And as they trekked onwards, it simmered between them like a potent stew bubbling away in a pot.

That day, they travelled further into her father’s territory. Although he was his usual cool, efficient self, she knew Bane well enough by now to see the small signs that he was becoming increasingly tense as they drew closer to the castle. She silently prayed that all would go well with her father, and that Bane would get Tav back, although she did not quite know why as it would mean parting from Bane soon, never to see him again.

She did not like to dwell on that fact because when she thought about it, it felt like she was being torn in half. In spite of the heartbreak that beckoned, she found she desperately wanted him to be happy, even if she could not imagine being happy without him.

Then something terrible happened. They rounded the corner of a trail and emerged into a wide gap of moorland between two stretches of forest. And there, facing them, was a party of four or five armed men on horseback. It took Constance only a moment to recognize their livery as well as the man commanding them. Cold dread filled her, but it was too late to hide. They had already been seen.

Her stepfather was staring at her, a wolfish grin of triumph on his bony, florid face.

She and Bane halted and stood motionless at the edge of the clearing. Her immediate fear was for Bane. Although she knew he could take care of himself, she also knew how cruel and calculating her stepfather was. He was outnumbered, and she could not stand the thought of him being harmed because of her.

“Bane, it’s my stepfather, Lord Ashbourne,” she told him urgently, placing a restraining hand on his arm. “I had no idea he came after me. Please, be very careful. I do not want you to get hurt.”

As her stepfather rode slowly towards them, with his men falling in behind him, Bane stepped in front of her protectively and drew his sword.

With his accustomed arrogance, Lord Ashbourne ignored him as he reined in a few yards away and looked beyond him, addressing Constance directly. “Well, well. Why am I not surprised to find you like this, Constance, living like a wild woman in the forest,” he said in a cold, gloating tone. “Come, enough of this tomfoolery. You are coming back home with me now.”

His commanding tone, so familiar to her, chilled Constance to the bone with fear. But she drew strength from Bane’s protective presence. “I am not going anywhere with you. Not ever,” she replied with a boldness she wished she felt.

Lord Ashbourne made an impatient sound with his thin lips. “Come, come, foolish child. Enough of this pantomime. I have been searching for you for days, and I had a good idea I would find you somewhere within Kerr’s territory. Now, say goodbye to this… this… savage and come here at once.”

Rage flooded through Constance on Bane’s behalf. She raised her chin and shouted back defiantly, “You are the savage. He is more of a man than you will ever be!”

For a moment, Lord Ashbourne appeared taken aback. But Constance saw how he quickly covered it with one of his sneering laughs. “I see a spell in the wilderness of this accursed country has turned your wits. Cease this charade. You are wasting time. Your betrothed awaits you back at home. Come here to me now. I warn you… it would be folly to make me come and fetch you. Your… friend will surely suffer for it.” He cast a threatening glance at Bane. As if to emphasize his words, his men drew their weapons, their horses growing restless beneath them.

“I shall do no such thing. You no longer have any hold over me. You are not my father, and you have no rights over me,” Constance declared, planning to make a dash for it into the trees and draw them away before they could attack Bane.

“Is that so?” Ashbourne sneered. “Very well, if that is how you want it.” He glanced over his shoulder and shouted to his men, “Kill him and bring her to me.”

“No!” Constance cried out in alarm. “Run, Bane, run!”

“I’m nae runnin’ anywhere,” he told her calmly, flexing his sword arm and pulling his dirk from his waistband with his free hand.

“Then I shall run and lead them away. I can lose them in the forest,” she whispered urgently in a last-ditch attempt to protect him.

“Nay. Just ye dae as I tell ye and stay behind me, out of the way,” her growled, gently pushing her back. Terrified for his life but knowing it would be waste of words to try to argue with him, she did as he said and moved back between the trees. Taking cover behind a tree trunk, she could only watch in horror as her stepfather’s men dismounted and advanced upon Bane, brandishing their swords menacingly.

Praying fervently under her breath for Bane’s deliverance, she peeped through her fingers as he clashed with his assailants and a fierce fight ensued. While she had every faith in his ability to protect her, he was badly outnumbered. She feared that even with his superior fighting skills, he would soon be overwhelmed. The thought of him being hurt or even, God forbid, killed, scared her even more than Lord Ashbourne’s threats.

But as when he annihilated the brigands, Bane seemed to enter a heightened state. He did not defend himself but attacked them with a calm, controlled ferocity, his movements as well-oiled and lethal as a war machine as he shoved, kicked, smashed, slashed, stabbed, while deftly dodging their blows. His razor-sharp blades flashed as he advanced up on them, giving no quarter. Constance watched in awe as his enemies’ blood flowed, and the pile of twitching bodies surrounding him grew higher. The clash of metal on metal rang through the forest as his foes fell one by one under his onslaught, until there were none left standing… except Lord Ashbourne himself.

It seemed to take Lord Ashbourne several moments to realize what had happened to his soldiers, who now lay either dead or mortally wounded on the ground, mired in their own blood and guts. He looked both stunned and furious as he glared at first Bane and then Constance. A grim-faced Bane, covered with gore, his blades dripping red, stepped towards him, clearly intending to finish the job. Panicked, Lord Ashbourne viciously heeled his horse and cantered away, not stopping until he felt sure he had put a safe distance between himself and Bane.

Bane halted, while Lord Ashbourne turned his horse and shook his fist at Constance. “This is not over, you little fool. This barbarian cannot protect you from me forever. You are not going to cost me everything that marrying the earl will bring me! I will get you back, and you will marry him, I tell you. Wherever you hide, I shall be back to find you!” With that, he turned his horse again and galloped off, disappearing into the trees.

As soon as he had gone, Constance rushed to Bane’s side, overwhelmed by worry for him. “Oh, Bane, are you all right? No, you are injured again!” she cried, turning him around, lifting his arms, examining him all over and noticing blood coming from several cuts to his forearms and wrists.

“’Tis only a few nicks, naethin’ serious,” he assured her, cooly wiping his blades on one of the fallen men’s uniforms and then sheathing them.

“Nevertheless, they need tending to,” she insisted, resting her hand on his chest and looking up into his eyes. “Thank you for saving me once again, Bane. I do not know how you did that, but I am very grateful that you did.” As she spoke, the true depth of her feelings for him overwhelmed her and she could hide it no longer.

“Bane, I have no desire to return to England, or to go anywhere,” she confessed, “not if it means leaving you behind.”

In reply, he simply enfolded her in his arms, drawing her close to his chest and resting his chin on the top of her head. She slipped her arms around his waist, holding him as tightly as she dared without hurting his side, breathing in the comforting scent of musk and fresh sweat.

“And I dinnae want ye tae go anywhere without me, Constance,” he murmured, his deep voice reverberating through her as she thrilled to feel his lips brush her hair in a gentle kiss. She tilted her face upwards and caressed his face before rising onto her tiptoes and pressing her lips to his. Their kiss was tender and delicate, a seal of their shared love in adversity.

“Come, let us find shelter so I can tend to your injuries,” she told him, finally pulling away a little but keeping within the circle of his arms.

“Aye, there’s a wee deserted cottage nearby in the forest I have camped in before. We should go there.”

They fetched the horses and made their way back into the forest, taking a trail that branched off from the main track and eventually led them to a broken down, deserted woodman’s cottage, sheltered by tress and overgrown by foliage. Constance wasted no time in settling Bane on a blanket on the floor before she set about boiling up water and ripping off more of her petticoat to clean his fresh injuries.

“I think I should also check the one on your side as well. It may have opened up again,” she said.

“Is that yer way of gettin’ me tae take me clothes off again?” he asked with a smirk, giving her a heated glance as he started to undo his jerkin.

This time, Constance did not blush but said teasingly as she smiled back. “How did you guess? Oh, do let me help you with that.” Concerned for him but excited all the same at the prospect of seeing his magnificent body unclothed once more, she helped him out of the jerkin, then his padded leather vest, and finally, pulled his shirt off over his head.

A flame of desire kindled within her once more at the sight of his powerful, muscular physique, but mindful of the importance of her task she quelled it as she knelt by his side. Carefully but thoroughly, she cleaned each one of the injuries, conscious of his eyes upon her the whole time. But this time, she did not hesitate to lay her hands upon his naked skin, marvelling at the smooth, whiteness of it and the complex interplay of muscle beneath.

Feeling bold, wanting to show her care for him as well as her gratitude for saving her from her stepfather, each time she finished with one, she pressed a tiny, butterfly kiss to it, and was thrilled to see Bane’s smile. When she had finished to her satisfaction, feeling quite proud of herself, she gently lifted his arm and inspected the wound in his side. “Hmm, that is healing nicely. And thankfully, none of the recent ones seem serious.”

When she had put aside the makeshift cloths and emptied out the bloody water from the pan once more, Bane caught her hand in his and, gazing at her intently, turned it over and gently kissed her palm. Tingles raced across her skin at his touch. “Thank ye, Constance.”

“Thank you, Bane,” she said, his praise making her feel absurdly happy, while his heated look set her heart racing.

“Now, come here,” he said hoarsely, pulling her by her waist towards him and folding her in his arms. He held her against his naked chest and lifted her hair aside before gently kissing her birthmark.

“I love that wee spot,” he murmured, trailing tiny kisses along her neck and throat until she was dizzy with excitement and desire. And when his lips took possession of hers, she put her arms around his neck and abandoned herself to heavenly bliss.