Healing the Highlander (12 page)

Moreland chuckled, his eyes reflecting none of the mirth he vocalized. "But surely you do understand that we intend to search everywhere for Wallace and the traitors who follow him? That means in every keep and castle we encounter. Granted, only those who share the rebels' cause would dare deny us entry, but why strain the good graces of the king's loyal subjects when there's no need? According to the prior, your family is well known in these parts. We see it as an advantageous barter. We'll protect you on your journey and you can repay us through your good will and knowledge of your neighbors' loyalty."

They planned to search every home in the Highlands?

Leah felt like slapping her head at their stupidity. Did they not understand that many of these Scots were so highly territorial they didn't even welcome their own let alone those riding under the banner of King Edward?

No wonder the history books would be brimming with battles.

Andrew apparently shared her concern.

"I canna speak to my neighbors' political leanings. Hut I'd be surprised if any, even those whose loyalty to Edward is without question, would willing open their gates to yer inspection."

"As if this godforsaken place holds any loyal to our king," one of Moreland's men scoffed.

"God has not forsaken Scotland, my sons." Brother John's soft voice drew all heads his direction as he joined
them at the foot of the stairs. "He resides here, in fact, inside the walls of our priory."

"Standish!" Moreland barked.

"My apologies,- good brother. I meant no offense."

The man who had spoken dipped his head respectfully in the prior's direction though Leah could find no sincerity in his face.

"None taken." Brother John favored them all with one of his gentle smiles. "Still, Andrew makes a point. In these troublesome times, many a good Highlander is reluctant to open his gates to a band of strangers."

"And ten men—even good ones such as these who follow you, Moreland—ten men are no enough to force yer way through castle walls." Andrew climbed onto his mount as he spoke, then guided his horse closer to Leah's.

Moreland nodded his head thoughtfully, as if he considered their objections. Still, Leah would swear that something in his eyes belied his every action.

That or she simply didn't trust the man.

"I see your concern now. But, truly, you've no cause to worry over us. These are but a small sampling of the men who crossed over the Tweed with me. We broke into smaller groups to search more effectively but, should we run into any resistance, it would take no time at all to reassemble the full complement."

"Well, that settles that, I suppose. Are you quite ready, dearling?"

Andrew reached out to cover Leah's hand with his, giving her a smile that, as her mother used to say, all but curled her toes. She'd give him credit for one thing. The man would make one heck of a Hollywood heart-

throb and his acting was absolutely first rate. If she didn't know better, just watching him in action, even she'd be tempted to believe they actually were newly-weds.

What the hell had he managed to get himself into?

Drew cast a quick glance at the woman who rode by his side. She sat, back regally straight, eyes fixed forward, as calm as if every word of the story he'd told these soldiers was fact.

But of course she would. It was exactly what he would expect of a Fae.

He couldn't help but wonder if in truth she felt as calm as she looked. He certainly didn't.

By day's end they'd wind around into the valley where MacPherson Hall nestled. Him dragging a passel of English soldiers and a woman on the run right into his sister's home. And not just any woman, but one who was likely related to the Fae.

And though he worried a little about his brother-in-law's dislike of the English, it was his sister's temper that gave him more concern. With Moreland and his men tagging along, he'd have no choice but to carry on his charade about bringing home a new wife. Sallie would make his life a living hell when she finally learned he had lied to her, no matter what his. reason now.

He only hoped Leah understood the importance of keeping up their story once they reached MacPherson Hall.

The thought ate at him, his mind conjuring up likely scenarios of what could go wrong, until he finally accepted the fact that he couldn't risk simply hoping. He needed to make sure Leah understood what was at stake here.

He reached for her reins, pulling up on his own as he did so.

"Moreland! My lady must stop for a short while to attend to her needs. Here, while we're no so very far from the water, will do her well."

Leah's eyes had widened with her surprise when her head snapped his direction, but she made not a single sound to contradict his claim.

This spot should do fine. Claiming his wife's need for privacy would allow them to walk back through the trees and brush to reach the small loch. Somewhere along the way, he'd be able to make sure Leah understood what they faced.

He eased off his horse, grateful his leg hadn't tightened into uselessness yet, and made his way around to Leah. She reached down to him, allowing him to take her weight and assist her from her seat.

"My thanks, husband. It's been a long ride."

She played her part so well, he could kiss her.

"I assume yer men will be considerate of my lady's need for privacy?" Drew arched an eyebrow and met Moreland's hard stare without flinching.

The knight looked away first. "You may count on it, MacAlister."

Leah gripped his hand as they made their way into the forest, a bit tighter than necessary to his way of thinking. Perhaps that outward calm she displayed wasn't an accurate reflection of how she felt after all.

"How are we . . ." she began, but instantly went silent when he gently squeezed her fingers and shook his head.

Though he didn't particularly trust Moreland not to send someone to spy on them, they'd have a better chance at privacy the farther away they got.

Only their footsteps in the underbrush broke the stillness surrounding them until, at last, he heard the water just ahead through the dense growth.

"We should be fine to speak here, as long as we keep our voices low."

She nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly before she spoke. "How are we going to get rid of them?"

As if he hadn't asked himself that very question more times that he could count since he'd stood on the courtyard steps this morning.

"I dinna suppose we will. No until we've reached MacPherson Hall. Perhaps once they satisfy them
selves that my sister's home din
na harbor the rebels they seek, they'll leave us in peace."

"So you weren't kidding? We're really headed to your sister's home? Isn't that kind of. . . Ouch!"

She'd walked ahead of him, leaning forward to push her way through the brambles of bushes separating them from the water they could hear just ahead.

Blackthorn!

"Be still," he ordered, reaching out to loosen her hair from the tree's grip.

He should have recognized them from the little white flowers covering the bushes. What else bloomed so early in the spring? Not a tree, really, more of a large bush, its long, sharp thorns had tangled in her hair the moment she had tried move past them.

"Serves me right," she muttered. "I wasn't paying the least bit of attention to what 1 was doing. Even I know better than to walk into blackthorn."

He pulled at her hair as gently as possible, working it loose from the bush. She must have jerked back after walking into the limbs, because the hair seemed to have worked its way around the thorns into a nice tight tangle.

"There," he said at last, pulling the final bit free. "And we've no even been forced to leave a lock behind."

"Thanks." She rubbed a spot on the top of her head, a rueful smile playing over her lips. "I've certainly managed not to miss a single hazard in the last couple of days. Should we try to find a way around all this?"

"No." They didn't have the time to hunt for a better way down to the water. The longer they were away, the more likely Moreland was to send someone to look for them. "Here."

He pulled her face to his chest and ducked his head over hers to shelter her. Lifting an arm, he pushed sideways through the brambles like an old ram in search of a mate. One giant shove and a few scratches later they were through to the other side, only a little worse for the wear.

"Like my own personal bulldozer," she laughed, pulling back from him.

Her eyes sparkled with her laughter, a brown so rich he felt for a moment they were deep beyond any end. And her hair. Torn loose from its bindings, it framed

her face in gold curls, lying softly against cheeks pink from her exertion.

"At yer service, my lady."

Whatever a "bulldozer" was, he found he was happy to serve as hers, in spite of the inconvenience. Just looking at her like this lightened his heart.

As they worked their way around some boulders to the waters edge, he glanced down to his arm, where an uncomfortable stinging drew his attention. Blood formed a bright red line where thorns had sliced through his sleeve and into his skin.

"Oh, look at your poor arm!" Leah lifted her hand as if to touch his wound, jerking back at the last moment. "You better wash that off. Those thorns have some natural secretion on them that makes the wound really sore."

She spoke the truth, he knew from experience.

Squatting down next to the loch, he scooped up a handful of water and splashed it over the injury. As if the shock of the cold water cleared his mind, he thought once again of why they were here.

"We must speak quickly in case Moreland sends someone to follow us."

"You really think he'd do that? He promised to allow me some privacy." She dropped to her knees next to him looking up into his face. Apparently she found her answer there. "Oh, all right. Of course he would. That's what soldiers do."

"Exactly."

Drew splashed another handful of water onto his arm, giving only passing thought to whether he should take time to bandage the wound, deciding it didn't warrant care right now. Not with more pressing matters at hand.

"I've no idea how long Moreland will remain at MacPherson Hall. But for the time he's there, we'll need to stick to our story. Having him realize we've lied to him willna be good for us or for my sister's family, you ken?"

She nodded her understanding, her eyes large and serious. "I suppose so. The last thing I want is for him to figure out who I—" She cut off her words, clamping her mouth shut, her eyes darting guiltily up to his.

Again the suspicion crossed his mind that she hid as much from him as she'd shared.

"The last thing I want is to bring trouble down on the heads of my family. So we're agreed, then? You'll continue yer pretense no matter what happens. I need yer oath on it because you'll find when you meet my sister, she can be a wee bit..."

The distinctive crackle of a careless footstep beyond the bushes into the forest stopped him in midsentence.

He had no doubt that Moreland's spy approached. But rather than jump guiltily to his feet, perhaps, with a little luck, he could turn this into an opportunity to convince the Englishman the story they told was true.

A little luck and Leah's complete and unquestioning cooperation.

"Dinna fash yerself over meeting my family, dearling." He raised his voice as he grasped her upper arms, praying she would understand they had an audience. "They'll grow to love you even as I do."

Crushing her to him, he ignored her surprise as he covered her mouth with his. He breathed her in, conscious only of the feel of her in his embrace.

Her mouth opened and, as if with a mind of its own, his tongue dipped inside, robbing him for an instant of any knowledge of where he was or why he did this. All he knew was that he was lost in the intoxicating richness of her mouth.

He barely noticed when her hands fluttered up to his arms. Barely noticed the sparkle of colors dancing across his closed eyelids or the sensation of movement rippling through his biceps.

He knew only that it seemed she had melted into his arms, their connection so intense he felt as if they might merge into one person at any moment.

The sound of a man clearing his throat nearby brought him rudely back to reality.

He broke the kiss slowly, gazing down at Leah's upturned face, her eyes closed, her full lips parted. Only a second round of throat-clearing, obviously more forced than the last, kept him from losing himself once again in the woman in his arms.

Looking up, his eyes met those of Moreland. How the knight had managed to get so close to them was beyond his ability to reason at the moment.

Moreland looked almost embarrassed, but not enough to avert his stare.

"Your pardon, MacAlister. I'd no wish to intrude on an intimate moment, but we were concerned when you and your lady did not return."

"We were . . . um . . . detained," Drew responded, peeling Leah's fingers from his arm while he spoke and pushing himself to stand. His heart still pounded in his chest so hard he was surprised those around him couldn't hear it.