Legacy of the Mist Clans Box Set (50 page)

But Ronan was already there. He scooped her into his arms, charged over the bed, and kicked the door open so both of them could make it through. He sprinted down the stairs as burning timbers collapsed behind them. Ronan reached the great hall, but he did not break stride, taking her into the bailey where he finally dropped to his knees and they both gratefully inhaled the fresh air.

Lia choked on a sob and flung her arms around his neck. “I love you,” she gasped, barely able to form the words.

Ronan grew very still in her arms. He lifted his head and his hands forced her to back away. In the glow of the bright blue sky and the flaming tower behind him, she saw his steel-gray eyes study her with an intensity she had never witnessed.

“Ye really mean yer words?” he asked softly.

Lia swallowed hard and nodded. She had not meant to say the words aloud, but she could not take them back now.

Suddenly his eyes ignited with something she could not define, but before she could study it, he hauled her to him so tightly he nearly squeezed the breath out of her. “My beautiful Sassenach,” he murmured, his lips brushing her ear. “Only ye could find the heart of the Demon Laird.”

“Ronan,” she protested. “You are not a demon.”

“Aye, and ye were the only one tae recognize that fact.” He paused, burying his face in her hair. “I’m tryin’ tae tell ye: I love ye too, lass.”

HHH

Lia pulled away slightly, her beautiful eyes liquid. Her fingers lightly caressed his cheek, and the desire to kiss her roared through him. But the telling sound of the War Wolf launching again caused her to flinch violently.

Ronan regained his feet, pulling her with him. He saw the giant rock arcing through the air and hauled Lia to the other side of the bailey. But the English once again had not adjusted their aim. With the top floors of his keep destroyed, the rock sailed harmlessly over the top.

“Damnation, they are bad at this,” Ronan muttered.

“I’ll take that as a boon.”

“Aye,” he said.

Another trebuchet launched and Lia squeaked in fear.

“Worry not, lass, that one was mine.”

She nodded as he guided her near the stables by the far wall.

“Shelter here, so I ken ye will be safe.”

She took a breath as if to argue, but he silenced her with a quick kiss.

“Nay,” he said, his lips brushing hers. “I need ye safe.”

She nodded again. “Be careful, please.”

“For ye, anything.”

A sudden cheer rose from Aidan and the men on the walls. “The War Wolf is on fire!” Aidan roared.

“Well done!” Ronan barked, quickly striding back to the middle of the bailey. “Ready the horses!” He sprinted toward the wall walk. Aidan met him on the stairs.

“Brother,” he said grinning broadly. “Methinks it’s time for the Demon Laird tae make an appearance over the sally. The enemy is rattled now that the War Wolf is burning. Chase more of them from the gate and we can break this siege.”

“Aye, brother,” Ronan said, returning Aidan’s grin. He once again pulled the cowl of his cloak low.

HHH

Lia’s heart rattled in her throat as she watched Ronan exhort his own troops and terrorize the enemy as he stalked on the wall walk over the sally. One moment he was on the tower embrasures, the next on the crenellations over the gate. Sweet Mary have mercy, he was incredible, but his antics terrified her. Surely he would slip and get himself killed. But she heard his men cheering their laird. Smoke rose, growing stronger and blowing over the bailey. The cheering grew louder and Ronan vaulted down from the walls, calling for his horse. Lia’s gut clenched, oh nay, he couldn’t fight! Please, God, he wouldn’t!

But with amazing speed, men leapt to their horses and hefted their lances. Ronan put on his helm, and with a sharp order from him, the sally gates opened. The horses charged through, the men led by their Demon Laird. Lia only caught a quick glimpse of the enemy through the open gate, but those she saw broke and ran. Then the gate closed behind them.

The cheers grew in power. The trebuchet in the bailey continued to launch under Connell’s command, with Aidan from his perch high atop the wall, directing their aim in order to keep the death and destruction away from their men on horseback.

“The front lines buckle!” she heard someone cry.

“The MacGrigor has done it!” another said. “They run like whipped curs.”

Oh, Sweet Mary,
her thoughts screamed.
Please let him survive this.

More horses were saddled in the bailey and armored men mounted up, but this time they stood before the main gates. Aidan, still on top of the wall walk, lifted his sword. He paused for a long moment, then brought his arm down. “Now! Open the gates!”

The portcullis raised with amazing speed, screeching loudly. The massive bar lifted and the gates opened. A horn sounded and the men on horses charged. In the distance, she spotted the group Ronan led. They cut across the field and wheeled left, galloping toward the gates as the others galloped out, the enemy in a panic and caught between them. Lia suddenly realized they meant to meet in the middle. If the enemy did not give way, they would be crushed between the charging lancers.

Aidan whooped as the last of the enemy soldiers broke and ran. “Burn it all!” he cried. “The War Wolf . . . everything! Burn it!”

Somehow Ronan now had a torch in hand. He and his men galloped toward the siege engine, setting it ablaze once again.

The cheering turned into the roar of victory as men on foot followed the riders out of the gates.

Lia’s gaze slid to the keep. She still saw smoke, but it was much lighter than before, almost nothing. She breathed a sigh of relief. The fire was under control and would probably be extinguished soon. She rose, shaking. Her leg, especially the knee that had been pinned under the timber, ached terribly, but she did her best to ignore it. Her medicants were still in her room, hopefully undamaged. Although the victory had been relatively easy, she knew there were wounded awaiting her.

“MacGrigor!”

Lia spun in surprise to see Ronan’s horse charging through the gate. He removed his helm. His face, streaked with soot, creased into a broad grin, and she was relieved to see him whole. His steel-gray eyes locked on hers. He vaulted from his horse, tossing the reins to a page.

He strode toward her purposefully, and the passion, the joy she saw within him, stole her breath and froze her in place. With a roar, he swept her into his arms, lifting her from her feet and spinning her around. Lia could scarce catch her breath before he set her on her feet again and kissed her powerfully, not caring that they stood in the middle of the bailey. The cheering became a roaring din in her ears, and she ignored it as Ronan’s kiss possessed her attention completely.

T
he smoke hung over the bailey like a pall. Ronan stared out the gates and a smile tugged at his lips. The War Wolf and the siege tower still burned, but flames no longer leapt from the wooden structures. Instead, they sat as massive piles of kindling, the smoke coming from hot embers that continued to burn. In a day or two, he would order the hulking skeletons destroyed, but for now he left them as a blatant warning to the English. Even Longshanks’s War Wolf could not stand against the Demon Laird.

Despite his victory, Ronan was sorely glad it had not been Longshanks leading the enemy. Edward was a master of siege warfare. Under his direct command, the siege became the true strength of the English. Ronan found himself wondering if Longshanks himself might answer the challenge of the Demon Laird. Of course, that would be after he ripped into le March for losing the War Wolf and being defeated so soundly. Ronan grinned viciously. Le March facing Longshanks, having to admit his defeat and the loss of the War Wolf, was greater revenge than any Ronan could devise.

His smile faded as he stared up at his keep. The fire had been extinguished, and considering what could have happened, Ronan thought himself lucky. The keep would take at least a month to rebuild and the tower at least two. But all things considered, it could have been worse. He shivered and his gaze automatically found Lia. Much worse.

In the bailey, not far from the keep, was a large hollow half as deep as he was tall, littered with sharp rocks. When the War Wolf had struck the keep, its load had apparently shattered, with a large chunk driving into the dirt. That impact had caused it to further disintegrate, but many small shards, about the size of Ronan’s hand and as sharp as a dagger, remained.

Because of the damage to the keep, Lia worked under a hastily erected pavilion right next to the crater. Wounds had been minimal, thank the Almighty, but a few people needed tending. Poor Robert had managed to slice open his skull. The wound was not serious, but it bled like the devil and now Lia stitched it closed. But as Ronan studied the large hole right next to where Lia worked, he realized the hazard. He resolved to have workers repair it as soon as possible.

Unfortunately, Ronan’s solar was now uninhabitable and would remain as such for some time. Next to the keep, near the back curtain wall, was a two-story stone structure. Ronan opened the door . . . and sighed heavily. When the keep had first been under construction, this was the building in which his newly wedded parents had lived, but with the completion of the keep it had been turned into a large storage room. It was full of wood and stone, tools and implements from the original construction—Ronan was glad to see that, at least. These items would be put quickly to use. But he would still have to send stone masons to the quarry and foresters to haul timber for the great rafters.

Just as his parents had done, he would use this building as his residence until the keep was repaired. But as he stepped in and sneezed against the dust that rose around him, he knew it would be a long while before he got any sleep.

He heard a tiny sneeze behind him and turned, startled. Lia had followed him in. She carried a cup in her hand and fought against another sneeze. His gaze focused on the cup—his medicant, he realized. He had been so preoccupied, he had forgotten again. “Thank ye, lass,” he said and stepped forward. He took the cup from her, braced himself for the obnoxious taste, and drank it down. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop the shiver that followed.

Lia’s lips twitched as she looked up at him.

“Thank ye for looking after me,” he murmured, stepping closer. The spark he saw in her beautiful eyes drew him like a moth to a flame and provoked a tempest within him. He could not resist stroking his fingers through her silky hair and lowering his head to touch his lips to hers.

He toyed with her mouth playfully at first, but quickly his kiss became more intense and more demanding. A soft groan curled through her and Ronan’s body came alive. It was not the knowledge that he wanted to make love to her that startled him, it was the intensity of it. He promised himself he would have her tonight, but if he meant to keep that promise, then he needed privacy . . . and a bed.

He reluctantly ended the kiss but pulled her into his embrace, resting his cheek on the top of her head. Her body conformed easily to his; no longer was she coiled with worry. “Forgive me, lass, but there is much work tae be done.”

“Aye,” she said softly but did not move.

He gently rubbed her back, feeling the tension still in her shoulders. “Ye suffered through hell today and now tend tae wounded.”

“I’ll be all right, Ronan,” she said and pulled away enough to look up at him.

He smiled down at her and kissed her forehead because he knew if he kissed her lips, it would be impossible for him to stop there.

She moved away and stepped out the door. Ronan almost turned back to the task at hand, but he hesitated and watched her, his eyes narrowing. She limped badly.

With a growl, he quickly caught her arm and stopped her. “Lia, are ye in pain?”

She gave him a puzzled frown. “I am fine.”

A terrifying vision pushed its way forward. Flames raging around her as she struggled on the floor, fighting to free herself from under a heavy beam that had once been one of the main supports for the roof of his keep. He shook the vision away and crouched before her. Without truly thinking his actions through, he pushed her skirts up, revealing a shapely leg that sent his lust pounding through his being.

“Ronan!” she gasped, horrified.

But her beauty was marred by a large bruise that ran the length of her leg, and it was rapidly darkening. Both her knee and ankle appeared painfully swollen.

“Damnation, lass,” he muttered between clenched teeth. “I want ye off yer feet, now.”

“Ronan, I’m fine.”

“Dinna argue with me,” he snapped with more anger than he intended. He released her skirts and stood. “When my leg pained me, ye told me tae stay off my feet and use damp cloths tae take the swelling down. I want ye tae do the same.”

“I will when I’m finished with the wounded.”

“Ye test my patience.” He stepped closer and whispered in her ear. “The wounded are minor. Marta can see tae them. Dinna force me tae carry you, for if I have tae place ye in a chair, I will tie ye tae it.”

But he’d much rather have her tied to his bed.

He nearly groaned at the vision that came to life with his thoughts. The pleasure he could give her—

Bloody hell! He had to stop that line of thinking immediately, but his body betrayed him and his shaft hardened on the spot. He desperately tried to force the vision away, but instead it sharpened and clarified. Too easily he could see her with her hands bound over her head, not enough to hurt, only to excite, her legs open before him as he trailed soft kisses down her body, descending lower, working slowly toward his goal . . . 

He shook himself, forcing the vision to fade. Nay! That particular pleasure would not come for a long while, if it ever came at all. She had never been touched, he knew instinctively, and he would never do anything to frighten her. Perhaps she would be open to its potential later . . . but not yet.

Lia must have sensed his passion; she stared up at him, her eyes wide. She swallowed hard and her tongue dampened her lips.

He forced himself to loosen his jaw a bit. He did not want her to think he was angry with her. “Lia, that rafter could have easily broken yer leg. I want ye off yer feet right now. Do ye understand?”

She nodded and limped away.

HHH

Ronan worked well into the night, but it was thanks to the clan members joining together to assist their laird that the building was completely cleaned and furnished within an amazingly short amount of time.

Although not as large as his solar, the top floor of the building was pleasant enough. Stairs led from the floor below to a door that opened to a spacious living area. The bedroom was a bit cramped, but it was walled off and had its own door.

Those who had been displaced by the damage to the keep would sleep in the community area on the bottom floor. Ronan, however, had the second floor all to himself . . . well, if his plan worked, himself and Lia.

He and Aidan hauled in the last of the furniture. Ronan had stripped off his tunic a long time ago, wearing only trews and his cross-quartered boots. He shoved his damp forelock off of his brow and looked around. A warm fire snapped merrily in the hearth, and the last of the dust and cobwebs had been cleaned away. Rugs adorned the floors, and in the corner sat a large table where he could break his fast or manage the business of his clan.

His clothing, however, hung on lines in the bailey, airing out after being washed to rid it of the smell of smoke.

Aidan looked at him critically. “Ronan, ye’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”

“Quit mothering me,” Ronan snapped then softened his words with a wink.

Aidan chuckled.

“I needed this finished for Lia. Thank ye for yer help, Aidan.” He moved to his table and poured two cups of wine, handing one to his brother.

Aidan inclined his head and gazed at Ronan curiously. “In a verra short amount of time I’ve not only seen my brother return but have witnessed the emergence of a new man.”

Ronan ducked his head, his cheeks darkening. He debated his words only a moment. He and his brother ribbed each other constantly, but Ronan knew Aidan would always have his back. He took a long drink from his cup and sat heavily in a chair before the hearth, staring into the flames. “I am no’ alone,” he said, his voice soft. “I had physically escaped my captors, but my soul remained imprisoned. Lia found the key tae unshackle my chains.” He took another drink and looked at his brother.

Aidan sat in the chair across from him. “Ye be in love with her.”

Ronan swallowed hard and slowly nodded.

Aidan gazed at him a long moment, then his lips twitched as if to smile.

Ronan braced himself for his brother’s banter.

Aidan chuckled and took a drink. “We did well today.”

Ronan was surprised his brother passed on the opportunity but was grateful for the boon. “Aye. When this all started, I never imagined being able tae use the fear of the Demon Laird tae such a great advantage.”

“Longshanks willna let this stand.”

“My thoughts exactly, brother. Yet he is focused on Stirling. Methinks we have a bit of time.”

“My birds tell me Longshanks has ordered the construction of another War Wolf as if the first had never existed. He seems tae think just building it, in full view of Stirling Castle, will terrify the Scots so much they will be begging tae surrender tae him.”

Ronan shrugged. “If it had been Longshanks outside my gates with that damned machine, I would have had second thoughts.”

“I agree with you there, brother.” Aidan paused and took another drink. “I am just grateful the gates were not damaged.”

“Aye. We must make repairs as quickly as possible, but I am thankful the baron was so inept at siege that he targeted all the wrong places.”

“Edward will not make that mistake.”

“’Tis sooth. If he brings us tae siege, then the battle turns toward his strengths. We need tae meet him on the field.”

“He is no slouch there either, Ronan.”

“Nay, he is not, but our odds are better on the field than they are behind our walls.”

“Aye.” Again he paused. “What did ye say tae Lia?”

“What do ye mean?”

“I saw ye talking, then she returned tae the pavilion only tae sit and tend her leg. She didna move from that spot but near drove Marta tae distraction with instructions tae tending what few wounded there were. She took me seriously when I told her no one would question her in the matters of healing.”

Ronan laughed heartily. “I merely told her if she didn’t get off that leg, I would tie her tae the chair.” He paused, his humor fading. “Damnation, Aidan, it was a miracle that rafter didn’t kill her or destroy her leg.”

Aidan swallowed hard, his face losing a bit of color.

Ronan stood. “Forgive me, but ye be right that I’ve been pushing myself too hard this day. I must see tae Lia.”

Aidan nodded and bid him good night.

But Ronan wasn’t quite finished for the evening. He called the servants to tote a hot bath upstairs before he went to the pavilion.

He found Lia asleep in her chair, her leg propped up before her and covered with damp linens. “Hey now,” he said, gently gripping her shoulder.

She started then blinked at him.

His smile grew at her muddled expression.

“Ronan? Is everything all right?”

“Aye,” he said and carefully lifted her into his arms.

“What are you doing?”

“Who heals the healer?” he asked softly. “Who tends tae her injuries and watches over her while she sleeps?”

Lia gazed up at him, a wealth of emotion in her eyes. “You?” she asked as if scarcely daring to hope.

“Aye, my sweet lass,” he murmured and carried her into his new solar.

HHH

Ronan set Lia on her feet, but she was careful not to put weight on her injured leg. Since she had been sitting, it now hurt like the blazes if she stood. She glanced around, stunned to see that what had just this morning been a wreck of a storeroom was now a wonderfully pleasant living space, warm and inviting.

Lia’s gaze fell on the huge tub filled with steaming water. She sucked in her breath and took an involuntary step back, staggering slightly.

“Nay,” Ronan whispered, his strong arms surrounding her.

“Who . . . who is that for?”

“For ye, lass,” he paused and grinned wickedly. “Actually, for both of us.”

Her stomach dropped and her heart slammed against her ribs.

Ronan studied her a long moment, the wonderful gleam in his eyes fading, and Lia suddenly wanted to kick herself. “Ye said ye loved me,” he whispered.

“I . . . I do.”

“I have found solace and comfort in yer arms. I wish ye tae find the same in mine . . . and perhaps even more.” He stepped closer, filling her vision. His fingers lightly traced down her cheek to her jaw and then down her throat. Their descent stopped at her collarbone where he shifted to trace along its length, back and forth, in a mesmerizing rhythm. She wanted to throw back her head and allow him to touch and explore all he wanted.