His Conquest (5 page)

“I—”

“We have seen no sign of them since yesterday,” a nearby guard stated.

Seathan turned toward the approaching band of men.

“Lord Tearlach is in a rage,” said a knight but paces away from their hideout.

“As expected,” another knight replied. “Though, I am unsure if his anger is with the Scot or her for aiding in his escape.”

A knight nodded. “She is a fool.”

Linet gasped behind him.

“Yes,” the closest man agreed, “since the viscount’s return, he has allowed her far too much rein. A beating would do her good.”

The other knight grunted. “Lord Tearlach will find her. When he does, she will regret her treachery. Before this is done, he will bend her to his will.”

“Onward,” a lead knight called. Soft earth flew from beneath the horses’ hooves. The slap of leather and jingle of spurs faded as the knights disappeared into the forest.

Seathan turned. Linet’s face had paled. Her nerves now made sense. Anger built as each subtle clue, each fragmented remark of yesterday, fell into place.

Eyes wide, she stepped back as if realizing his fury.

“Aye, Lord Tearlach may want me, but it would seem in this quest, you are the true prize.” He stalked toward her. “Bend you to his will? The question, my lady, is why?”

At Seathan’s approach, Linet held her ground. He was furious at learning the men hunted her with equal determination. So much for believing his exhaustion and battered state would save her.

A pace away, he halted. Menace carved harsh lines across his face. “Why do the men want you?” he demanded.

The force of his determination engulfed her, but she refused to look away. “We both have secrets.”

Green eyes darkened to a hard edge. “Secrets, aye, but you purposely hid that yours were of a personal nature and involved the Viscount of Tearlach.”

Sweet Mary. Did he suspect her blood tie with Fulke? No, she’d said nothing to expose a link to her brother. “The reason for the viscount’s anger, his desire to have me back, is my affair.”

“Ours.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “I have agreed to escort you to the Highlands. A vow I will not break. Until you are delivered, whatever provokes the viscount’s anger toward you affects us both.” He leaned closer, his face dark. “Do you not think I should know the reason?”

Linet held her ground. “In the dungeon you agreed not to question why I had freed you.” At his ominous silence, panic stirred in her soul. Why was she debating with a man who would always view her as his enemy, a dangerous rebel whom she was foolishly beginning to care for? She stepped back. “I need not your help. I can make it to the Highlands alone.”

He arched a skeptical brow. “After you risked your life to free me from the dungeon to be your escort, now you decide you will journey across the rugged terrain alone? Tell me, my lady, what has changed?” A cold smile edged his mouth. “Or should I ask, who has swayed your decision?”

With her nerves fraying like spun yarn unraveling, Linet struggled for calm.

At her silence, Lord Grey studied her with predatory intrigue. His nostrils flared. “Is Lord Tearlach your lover?”

“As I told you in the stables, he is a man I despise.” The truth. Her brother would manipulate anyone if it meant his own personal gain, including those related by blood.

“Perhaps,” Seathan agreed, “but more than dislike lingers between you and the viscount for him to search you out with such furious intent.”

She shrugged. “He does not like to be crossed.”

Despite the storm of emotions brewing within him, Seathan stepped back. With her beauty and sharp mind, it was easy to see why the viscount would want her. And with the memories of Linet’s passionate kiss burning through his mind, easy to understand why Tearlach would order his men to scour the lands for her.

But in this, Tearlach would fail. The bastard would never find her. On that, Seathan gave his solemn vow.

The strength of his possessiveness toward Linet stunned him. He wanted the lass in his bed. What man would not want a woman whose passion rivaled that of a well-paid courtesan? Except, from her innocent reaction to his kisses, he suspected few if any men had ever touched her. An intriguing blend that made him want her all the more.

A whisper inside his mind hinted his feelings for her went deeper. More than those of a night’s bedding.

Nay. She meant naught to him. The lass was but a means of freedom. And if he took her to his bed, it would be only for shared pleasure. His previous lover, Iuliana, had used him, etched in his soul the high price of giving a woman his trust, and of the hurt and shame that followed.

Seathan banked his temper, his impatience. Aye, he’d given his word that he’d not press Linet for why she’d released him. But during the time they would spend together, she would lower her guard and he would learn the truth. He was a man who achieved his goals.

A fact Linet would soon learn.

With his moving about, his right side had begun to throb. He sheathed his sword, rolled his shoulders in an effort to loosen the tension thrumming through his body.

“You need to sit,” Linet said, her words guarded as she watched him as if assessing his shifting moods.

“Why do you care whether I rest or not since you can make it to the Highlands without me?” He nodded. “Your words, my lady.”

“I…” She looked away, but not before he caught her shimmer of true concern. “I was raised to do what is right. Unlike Lord Tearlach, whose decisions are based on greed.” She turned to face him, her expression fierce with belief. “He is a man who cares not that his self-serving desire devastates the innocent.”

Her claim intrigued him. “I am far from innocent.”

“True. The viscount’s interest in you is purely for the gain of power, to earn King Edward’s praise. He has no thought to aid his people or his kingdom.”

“It is rare for an Englishwoman to hold such views.”

“You forget, I am half Scottish.”

“I assure you, your heritage is a fact I well remember.” A fact that made him curious to learn more about this complex lass. With her in-depth knowledge of the viscount along with the confidence with which she spoke, any doubts as to her being a lady, a noblewoman high within the ranks of Breac Castle, fell away. For Tearlach to be interested in Linet, her father must have been a powerful lord. Which noble was he?

“Regardless,” she continued, “my heritage is not what guides my life, but the teachings of my father: humbleness, fairness, and respect.”

Seathan grunted. “If only Lord Tearlach were guided by the same hand.”

At his words, she stilled. “Forgive me. I prattle on about a man who is worthy of naught but scorn while you stand before me shaking. Please, sit.”

Seathan glanced down, surprised to find that indeed his body was trembling. Bedamned. No time for delays. It would take a day, mayhap two, before he was strong enough to travel at a solid pace.

He must intercept Alexander and Duncan before Tearlach’s men set up an ambush and stumbled across his brothers as the soldiers scoured the viscount’s lands for him and Linet.

Weariness flooded him as he strode toward the back of the cave, where weathered rock fell away to expose the vast gorge below.

As he neared the cave’s opening, the distant roar of water from the falls grew. He glanced at the pallet where they’d lain. Desire seared him at the memory of waking to find Linet curled against him with innocent trust.

The soft pad of her footsteps within the cave heightened his awareness. He wanted her, aye, but mired in secrets, she was a woman wisdom bade he avoid.

With his mind steeped in emotions he’d rather not feel, instead of returning to lie upon the pallet, he pressed his back to the cool stone wall and slid to sit on the floor. With his forehead resting on his raised knees, for a moment he closed his eyes, appreciating the roar of the water below, the warmth of the sun upon his skin, and the rich scent of the earth and mist-laden air.

He opened his eyes, inhaled deeply, and scanned the gorge. To his right, water surged over the jagged ledge carved by thousands of years of wear. Boulders, some sun bleached, others covered by vines thick with newborn leaves, framed the rush of water, which plunged into an angry pool swirling far below.

Mist rose above the dark churning pool, a mesmerizing shroud of white that transformed glints of sunlight into fragile rainbows. Magical arcs of color as if cast by the fairies.

The fey?

He blew out a rough breath. Aye, he was weary indeed to be thinking such fanciful thoughts. Such musings were typical of his younger brother, Duncan. Never did he allow his imagination to stray to ponderings of no consequence. Or he hadn’t since his youth, a time when he’d also believed in true love.

He ignored the impulse to glance at Linet. He’d learned that faithful women didn’t exist. Only those who played cruel games, used lovers to invite jealousy, then cast them aside.

“Seathan?”

Linet’s soft voice caressed his name. His gaze remained riveted upon the falls. “What?”

The soft scuff of her slippers echoed as she stepped beside him. A breeze fluttering her gown against her slender calves lured him to look.

“With the knights gone,” she said, “it is safe for me to search for plantain. Rest while I am away. I will return before sunset.”

He bristled. “You will remain here.”

Lavender eyes widened with surprise, then narrowed, a stubborn sign he was becoming all too familiar with. “The herb will speed the healing of your wounds.”

“No lass issues me orders.”

“But I shall.” She paused, arched a slender brow. “It is said plantain also aids in curing the madness of dogs.”

Her bravado intrigued him. Who was this woman who feared not her enemy? Irritated that he wanted her, Seathan shoved to his feet, ignoring the burst of dizziness.

He shot her a hard look. “I will accompany you.”

She angled her jaw. “Your arrogance amazes me. But I wonder, is it your arrogance or your distrust that I shall not return?”

“Had you wanted to leave, you could have done so numerous times. Yet you stayed, which again raises the question why.”

Red swept across her cheeks. “Waste your time wondering about my intent if you will. I, for one, have more important things to do. I must find herbs to help your wounds heal.” She paused, shot him a withering glare. “If I was of sane mind, I would leave them to fester to match your charming attitude.” Linet turned away.

Seathan caught her arm, whirled her to face him.

Outrage splashed across her cheeks. “Release me.”

Instead, he stared at her face, wanting to see her eyes, to find a truth he could believe in. “Why do you care about me?”

A look of uncertainty flickered in her eyes, her gaze as defiant as shaken. “I…I do not know.”

The honesty in her voice had him mentally backtracking, reevaluating. Christ’s blade. Did he believe in her innocence? He released her.

“Come.” Shoving aside his lingering weakness, Seathan strode toward the cave’s exit, his mind wrapped in her, of the vow he’d made. Aye, he’d agreed to guide her to the Highlands, but when would the lass realize he’d omitted to specify the time frame?

With a frustrated sigh, Linet stared at the infuriating man, followed in his wake. The Scot was as unbending as a sword.

“If your wounds become infected, so be it.” Linet walked past him, but kept her steps slow. As much as she wished to hurry and leave him behind, the stubborn-headed fool would match her pace and add to his injuries.

In so many ways, his arrogance, determination, and focus on his goals reminded her of her brother, Fulke. But that was where the similarities ended.

Unlike her brother, Seathan was guided by his morals, his concern for his people, and his belief in doing what was right. Though he refused to explain why he accompanied her into the woods, she believed his reason arose from worry for her safety. That he was concerned about her touched her deeply.

Since her parents’ deaths, no one had truly worried about her. Her maids smiled and inquired as to her health, but afraid of her brother, none sought to know her beyond the role of their mistress.

Not that she’d pondered the fact or felt regret. Immersed in her studies, with the day-to-day running of Breac Castle, time to linger, to make small talk as most noblewomen did, seldom occurred. She preferred her busy life, or had until she’d met Seathan.

Lord Grey was a unique man, a leader whose devotion to protecting his people amazed her. Now, however temporary, he’d included her within his safeguard. She should dismiss the sense of comfort his decision inspired, focus on the fact that their time together was but that of weeks. But deep inside, she knew when they reached the Highlands and parted, an emptiness she’d never anticipated would remain.

Sweet Mary, how could a man she’d known for but hours have become so important to her? It made no sense, but then at this moment in her life, little did.

At the mouth of the cave, Linet halted, steadied herself. She must make her decisions based on logic, not the feelings of the heart, a lesson Fulke had taught her too well.

With her mind focused on her task, she peered through a slit in the sewn moss cover. The rumble of water from the nearby gorge filled the silence. Through the break in the trees, a hawk soared high above the treetops.

As she scanned their surroundings, Seathan halted behind her. He did not have to speak, nor did she need to hear the firm tread of his steps to know of his presence. Her body recognized his nearness.

“Do you see anyone?” Caution laced his voice.

Shaken by the sense of completeness his nearness instilled, Linet shook her head. “No.” She pulled back the cover and left the cave.

Seathan followed.

The soft, leaf-strewn ground absorbed their steps, the canopy of leaves overhead casting them in shadows.

As they crossed the small field, Linet kept watch for any sign of movement, relieved once they’d again entered the protective shield of the forest.

Seathan glanced over. “You are traveling at a slow pace.”

“As if you could move faster?”

“I am far from a green lad ignorant of the demands of war.”

Dead leaves stirred by a gust of wind spun past her face. She brushed one away that’d caught within her hair. “A fact you seem intent on reminding me of.”

“Who hurt you so that you would challenge a warrior without thought of reprisal?”

His quiet question caught her off guard. Flutters of warmth tumbling through her stilled. She stayed her response. Of course he would want to know, he wanted to learn everything he could about her. More specifically, he sought to discover why she would help free Fulke’s valuable prisoner from Breac Castle.

Shaken by the reminder, Linet stepped forward.

Tripped.

He caught her, his piercing green eyes riveted on her. “You are upset.”

She stared at him for a long moment, too aware of their kiss. He gazed back with the intensity of a warrior, but a man as well. Desire swept through her, leaving her aching with need. If only his inquiry was made purely out of concern. On a long sigh, she pulled free and started walking.

“Linet?”

Did he have to use her name? Did he have to speak with the rich, velvet burr that thrummed through her body in soft waves, sparking memories of his touch?

“Tell me,” he urged.

She paused and glanced back at him. A mistake. She silently cursed that she noticed the curve of his sensual mouth, the desire in his eyes, and prayed he didn’t see her own need.