Page 12 of The Highlander’s Hunted Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #2)

12

K atie watched the silvery mare snatch at the tufts of weeds that pushed through the cobbles of the courtyard, perplexed by the vast size of the beast. The mare’s back alone didn’t look comfortable to sit on, but it seemed she would have no choice but to make it work.

“There really is nay need for this,” she told Isla, who stood nearby with one arm around Bonnie, her other hand resting on Pipkin’s head. “It was a foolish notion. We can just send for the fabrics, or I can ride with a guard or two. There’s nay sense in distractin’ the Laird from his duties for this.”

Isla waved her off, practically shooing her away. “The wee one will be quite all right with me, and I’ll take good care of the other when he arrives. Flynn just went out to fetch him, and it’ll be for the best if he has time to settle before me grandson returns.”

“But I should really be here for that,” Katie pleaded.

In a sneaky move, Isla glanced down at Bonnie. “What do ye think, wee lassie? Do ye think yer sister should stay here, bored of me chatter, or do ye think she should go on an adventure to Inverness? Och, she might even find somethin’ for ye —a morsel to eat or a wee treasure.”

Pipkin wagged his tail furiously.

Bonnie nodded in agreement with her trusty hound. “I think ye should go on an adventure with the good monster. I’ll look after Lyall when he comes here, show him all the secret places I’ve found.” She paused. “And if ye do find somethin’ for me, I wouldnae mind it bein’ tasty.”

Katie sagged in dismay, cursing Isla’s ingenuity inwardly. Of course a child would want whichever outcome led to a treat, but surely there were treats aplenty in the castle kitchens. She considered saying as much, but she had a feeling that Isla would already have a counter-argument prepared.

What was supposed to be a way of distracting herself and clearing her mind of thoughts of Hector had now turned into a ride with the very cause of her turmoil.

“Dinnae fuss,” Hector said at that moment, a short distance behind her. “We’ll only be away for a few hours.”

Katie turned in time to see the muscles in his back ripple as he hoisted himself up into the saddle, throwing a powerful thigh over to the other side. Thighs she had seen without the drapery of belted plaid, a back she had raked with her nails, leading her to wonder if the marks were still there beneath his shirt.

This is the very opposite of what I need!

Dropping her gaze, muttering rude words in a grim whisper, she approached the patient mare.

“Be gentle with me,” she urged. “I havenae ridden in years.”

The mare snorted softly, nosing at her chest.

Taking that as a good sign that she wouldn’t be unceremoniously tossed out of the saddle at the slightest noise, she grabbed the saddle and lifted herself. It was harder than she thought, her teeth gritted as she struggled, barely managing to throw a leg up and over to the opposite side.

“There’s a step over there,” Hector said dryly, a minute too late.

She shot him a dark look as she sat up properly. “Thank ye for lettin’ me ken. I’ll be sure to use it the next time I have to ride anywhere.”

Hector turned his horse without a word, trotting toward the gates. Once again, with the obvious expectation that Katie would follow. In fact, Katie didn’t have to make a decision at all—the mare was already following after Hector and his horse without her having to even touch the reins.

The sky was overcast as they set out on the road leading away from Castle MacKimmon, an imminent threat of drizzle turning the moors misty in anticipation. A chill in the air made Katie grateful for the cloak that Isla had lent her, though she would have preferred to be in front of a roaring fire, as far from Hector as she could get within the boundaries he had set.

At length, the placid mare caught up to Hector, the two horses plodding abreast on the winding dirt road. Yet, neither rider said a word to the other, both staring dead ahead at the endless rolling expanse of windswept moorland. Clusters of woodland poked up here and there, and lone trees stood crooked and bare-limbed, like forgotten guards who had wasted away on their watch.

“Me maither used to say that they were fairy mounds and that we werenae to go near in case we were snatched away for a hundred years,” Katie said, gesturing to a strange array of bent trees ringed around a lump of grassy earth.

Hector made a grunt of disinterest.

So, it’s goin’ to be like that, is it nae? Well, I can be silent too.

She managed no more than fifteen minutes before the silence became too much, bristling with things unspoken and things that shouldn’t be mentioned.

“I’m sorry ye were dragged into this,” she said, settling into the sleepy sway of the mare. “I wasnae intendin’ to travel alone, ye understand, but I didnae think yer grandmaither would insist that ye escort me. I wouldnae have mentioned it if I had. I’m sure there are countless other things ye’d rather be doin’.”

Hector leaned back slightly in the saddle, his hips rocking rhythmically to the motion of his horse, mesmerizing in that sultry side to side. And the leather of the reins, wrapped around one hand, had a peculiar effect on Katie. So much so that she picked a tree in the distance and kept her eyes on it, determined to avoid looking at Hector again for any reason.

“It’s nae the first time she meddles in me affairs,” he said, after a moment. “She cannae resist playin’ matchmaker.”

Katie stared at the distant tree until her vision blurred. “Oh, so she does this a lot?”

“Whenever she’s bored,” he replied. “Is that what ye think this is?”

“I didnae say that,” she hurried to say, her throat tight. “I was just tryin’ to apologize for the disturbance to yer day.”

A little twinge of hurt caught her in the chest, her palm moving to cover the feeling, pressing against the spot to soothe it. Was it so outlandish that Isla might have tried to set the two of them up together?

Who else has she pushed into yer path?

Unwelcome visions bombarded her mind, of Rhona lying on Hector’s desk, the ledgers and papers all cascading to the floor, as Hector himself slid his hand up her thigh. Katie imagined him kissing that maid with fervent desire, kissing her harder than he had ever kissed Katie. She pictured him stripped of all his clothing, making love to Rhona… though the images were fragmented, missing the pieces that the village girls had never gossiped about, or that Katie had never quite understood.

Ridiculous. Ye’re bein’ ridiculous!

She swatted away the irksome imaginings. Yet, the anger at what she’d imagined lingered, burning in her chest beside the twinge of hurt, as if she’d swallowed an ember straight from the fire.

She was jealous, and she had three months to make herself undo that feeling before it undid her.

“Ye’re awfully quiet,” Hector remarked, glancing at the sullen, silent rider. It had been an hour, and she had not said another word.

When he had agreed to escort Katie to Inverness, to fetch fabrics for his grandmother, he had fully expected her usual stream of chatter. At the very least, enough conversation to antagonize him into replying or to keep the journey interesting. He wasn’t sure he liked the quiet, her stillness unsettling him. It was like being ambushed, not knowing what the enemy was thinking.

“It’s nothin’,” she replied, pulling her cloak tighter around herself.

“Are ye cold?”

She shrugged. “I’m fine.”

It was a miserable Spring day, though the flowers in the castle gardens would be glad of the coming rain. She seemed to reflect the weather, her expression overcast, her stiff posture and tense mouth potentially signaling that a storm was on the horizon.

Shrugging it off, deciding that she could be sullen if she wanted to be, he turned his attention to the road ahead. The meandering route through the moorlands had tapered down a slope toward a stripe of dense forest that cut across the landscape. It was not a place to be caught at night, but in the daylight, it was a charming ride through an army of fir trees, the scent heady and revitalizing.

Hector thought about mentioning the perfume of the trees but shook off the impulse. It was a stupid thing to say to break the silence.

As such, the horses walked on down the incline and passed into the shadow of the woodland, the riders at a staunch stalemate as to who would give in first.

She’d talk if I asked her about the other night . If I asked her how it felt. Maybe I could suggest another tree.

He shrugged that thought off, too. It wouldn’t help him at all; he was struggling enough with the sight of her lithe, lean body swaying from side to side, her hips moving fluidly, her thighs parted for the saddle but not for him. He couldn’t fight the notion of how it would feel if she rode him instead, sitting astride him, her back arched, his hands on those fluid hips, guiding her back and forth until…

A sharp crack, loud as thunder, split the tree-dulled silence of the forest.

Hector’s mighty stallion, Lucifer, flicked his ears, snorting in irritation. The war horse was unshakable, well accustomed to sudden sounds and deafening noise, unmoved by the cries of men and the blast of artillery.

Hector was so sure of his mount that it took him a second to realize that Katie was in trouble.

She was fighting for control, the mare panicking beneath her, sharp whinnies erupting into the air. The frightened creature kicked out her legs, bucking in a manner that such an old horse shouldn’t have been able to manage, but fear had a way of bringing out the fight in anyone. And when the mare couldn’t unseat her rider that way, she reared.

Katie screamed, her hands fumbling for the reins as she slipped backward.

Turning his horse quickly, Hector’s arm curved outward like a scythe, catching Katie around the waist as she began to fall. He pulled her to him with all of his might, heaving her over to his horse and dragging her into the saddle before any harm could come to her.

Free of her burden, the mare flew off, barreling down the forest road with the speed of a filly. Whatever had spooked her, she didn’t seem to want to wait around to find out what it was.

“The horse!” Katie yelped, shifting in the saddle. “Och, nay! The horse!”

Breathing hard, his heart pounding harder than he cared to admit, Hector kept his arm around her waist. “Never mind about the mare. She’ll find her way home once she’s calmed down.”

“I dinnae ken what happened,” Katie said, dismayed. “What made her do that?”

Hector shrugged, using the motion to pull her closer. “It was a twig snappin’ or somethin’. She hasnae been this far from the castle in a fair while; she isnae used to noises she doesnae recognize.”

“But what if she doesnae ken her way back?” Katie urged. “We have to find her, M’Laird. I willnae forgive meself if anythin’ bad happens to her. I’m nae much of a rider—och, it’s me fault that she’s bolted like that.”

He nearly smiled, realizing that she was talking again. The rushed, impassioned chatter that had been sorely absent on the ride so far. He just wished he hadn’t had to lose a horse to draw her out of her silent shell.

“We’ll fetch the fabrics first, then we’ll see if we cannae find the runaway on our way back,” he told her, careful not to allow too much softness into his voice. He didn’t want her to think that his grandmother’s plan had any merit.

With his arm around her, he could feel the violent thud of her heart, echoing just below her ribcage. Leading his horse onward, keeping her close to him, he knew it was not just the mare that needed to calm down. She had had a fright, and though he hadn’t been too pleased about the journey, he was beyond glad that he had been there at that moment.

If she’d been with a guard, would she have been safe?

He dreaded to consider it, his entire being seized with the sudden desire to protect the woman in his arms, no matter what.

Looking ahead, he blinked in confusion. Shapes were emerging from the fir trees just in front of them, masked and cloaked and almost certainly armed. There were three of them, spreading out across the road, their arms stretching wide, blades glinting in dirty hands.

“Halt there!” one bellowed.

A second grinned, leering up at Katie. “Ye’ve somethin’ we want!”

“Aye!” shouted the third. “And ye can give it easily, or we’ll take it roughly!”

For an awful moment, Hector wondered if he had somehow summoned them—brigands, coming to test just how far he would go to keep Katie safe.

With grim resolve, he held her as tightly as he could and, with his other hand, drew his broadsword.

“Close yer eyes,” he whispered.

She didn’t need to see what came next.