The Highlander's Conquest (11 page)

Aliah allowed the older woman to lead her to a comfortable looking room with a large bed
,
a chest at its foot, table and chairs beneath a small window
covered by a fur
, and a wooden bath tub sitting before a modest hearth. As
Mistress Kerr
chatted
about the fall and the coming
of
Yuletide, she stoked the heart
h
, setting a fire to blazing. Aliah sat dazed in a chair as a few servants bustled in, filling the wooden tub with steaming buckets of water and then a few
colder ones to decrease
the boiling temperature.

Without asking if she needed assistance,
Mistress Kerr
grasped Aliah’s hands and pulled her to standing, taking her gown and chemise off and then her hose and shoes. She
continued to ramble on about
the weather, drying flowers and herbs for winter, and that Aliah seemed like a nice lass despite her heritage. The older woman left no
pause for Aliah to respond, which was fine with her as she had nothing to say.

The innkeeper led her to the tub and Aliah sighed with gratitude as the heat seeped into her weary bones and aching muscles. She sank down into the water, allowing its warmth to take away the stress of their journey. Leaning her head against the back, she allowed the woman to tenderly wash her hair.

“My oldest used to let me wash her hair, but she’s long gone now
, married off
and the little ones dinna appreciate a nice hair washing. Did your Ma wash your hair, my lady?”

Aliah startled from being asked a direct question. Opening her eyes for a moment, she stared up at the ceiling, then simply shook her head. She didn’t wish to answer.
Couldn’t bea
r
t
o tell this stranger that she’d never felt the loving arms of her mother wrap
ped
around her. That she would rather join the church than subject a child of her own to such loneliness.
That Blane made her want to take a chance…

Perhaps noting that Aliah was not in a
talkative
mood,
Mistress Kerr
eventually quieted, going about the rest of the bath, and then handing Aliah a linen warmed by the fire. She dried herself as the innkeeper pulled a new chemise and gown from her satchel and laid them out.

“Should y
e
like me to brush out your hair?”

Aliah decided that she would indeed like to indulge in such a nicety.
Her maid
Glenda had brushed her hair but was always a little rough. She donned her chemise, tying the ribbons at her chest, then allowed
Mistress Kerr
to help her into her gown, tying the bodice tight at her sides.

“’Tis a nice fabric, this,”
Mistress Kerr
said.

Aliah nodded. Then sat as the woman instructed in a chair before the fire as she brushed her hair until it crackled.

“Shall I plait it for you?”

Aliah shook her head. In the quietness of her room, she wanted to leave it down. “Not now. Could you have my meal sent up?”

“Aye, my lady. My stew ought to renew you
r
strength.”

The woman left the room quickly, promising
the
heartiness and robustness
of her stew
would please Aliah immensely. Her mouth watered at the thought. It’d only been a couple days since she’d eaten a real home cooked meal, but even still, she felt as though it’d been ages.

A slight knock at the door turned her attention from staring into the hearth. She walked to the door and cracked it, hoping it was Blane. A couple of servants stood in the hallway.

“If
ye’re
done with your bath, my lady, we would clean it up for ye.”

She nodded and allowed the servants entrance
. T
aking a seat before the window
,
she pulled
back the covering
and star
ed
out into the clearing at the children who played a game of chase. Vivid memories from her childhood flooded her mind. She and her sister and brother used to play similar games between studies. The baron had approved of games, unlike most of the aristocracy who coached restraint and order. Aliah and her siblings were lucky in that way. They’d been allowed a childhood. Part of her guessed that it was their father’s guilt at them having lost their mother. No matter that it wasn’t hi
s fault, the baron had always carried
some of the blame upon his shoulders.

The servants left and a few moments later,
Mistress Kerr returned with a tray. She se
t the tray and its contents on the table. A bowl filled with steamy, thyme scented stew, a thick piece of brown bread with a hunk of butter melting at its center, and a cup of ale.

“
Mmm
. This smells divine,
Mistress Kerr
.” Aliah closed her eyes
,
allowing a few moments to take in the scents of the various herbs, vegetables and venison.

“I do hope ye enjoy it, my lady.”

“I’m certain I will.”

Mistress Kerr
curtsied and quit the room, leaving Aliah to savor the stew. Her first bite was pure decadence. She was convinced she’d never tasted anything so glorious in her life. Following the savory stew with a bite of warm buttered bread, she moaned at the flavors and the warm feeling settling in her belly.

Aliah polished off the stew, swiping the last bite of bread through the bowl and popping it into her mouth when a loud
,
single knock rattled the door.

That had to be Blane. She smiled
and turned her attention to the door. “Enter.”

But it wasn’t Blane who entered. No, it was a Highlander, dressed in a plaid, his naked knees shouting at her sensibilities. A silver dirk gleamed at his hip, and a white
leine
shirt covered the bulk of his expansive chest and shoulders, over which the end of his plaid had been tossed
and pinned
. Her stomach plummeted and every bite of her delicious dinner backtracked up her throat. They found her and would kill her now.

Who
they
were, she didn’t know. But she couldn’t look into his eyes. Fear held her still, and her gaze settled on the dirk at his hip.

“Lady Aliah.” Blane was here!

She tried to glance around the Highlander, to shout for Blane that an intruder had come, but her words d
ied on her lips… Blane’s grassy-
green eyes stared out at her from the Highlander’s face. Aliah’s mouth went dry as it fell open in shock. Blane was a…

Saints above
. Glenda had been right. Highlanders were a treacherous lot to be feared.
The man had tricked her. She’d willingly left her home with h
im
. Traveled to his country. And now… And now she was his prisoner.

Oh, dear God, did that mean
Glenda
was right about other things? Aliah chewed her lip, praying desperately the maid wasn’t correct in her warnings that sneaking honeyed buns from Cook would result in a woman being barren later in
life. That one had to be false—for her sister’s sake.

She shook her head. Now was not the time to ponder Glenda’s ramblings. Now she needed to escape. Thankful for her foresight, she yanked her bow and quiver from beneath her chair, nocking an arrow within seconds, and for the third time, pointed it straight at her
escort’s
heart.

All the odd feelings and trepidation she had, had not been for naught. Her gut knew this man was not who he said he was.

She was not going to let him take advantage of her again.

“Get out,” she demanded. “Else I am forced to follow through and put an arrow
deep inside
your lying heart.”

Chapter
Eleven

B
lane held out his hands, his eyes locked with Aliah’s. He couldn’t shake the pierce of her accusing gaze. He’d known she would react to his
appearing before her this way
.

’Twas essential to show her who he really was, as he couldn’t very well travel through Scotland as an Englishman. That was more likely to get him killed than the gentle warrior standing before him.

“My lady, please, put down the arrow.
I have no intention of harming ye
.” He didn’t hold back his burr now. “I am still Blane, I am still taking ye to Arbella and your father.”
He took the dirk from his hip and kicked it across the floor.

She scoffed. “Why should I believe you? You’ve obviously lied to me up to this point,
Scot
.
”

“Aye, but ’twas for your own protection.”

“I was perfectly safe inside my home.”

“Aye, but ye weren’t with your sister and father.”

“And you aim to take me there?” Her eyes narrowed further.

Blane had to figure out a way to disarm her. If she were startled in any way, even from a noise out
side
the window, her arrow would fly and he’d be
a
dead man—or at the very least an injured one.

“Might I entreat ye to put the bow down?”

She laughed. “So you can subdue me? Make me your prisoner?”

Blane shook his head. “Nay, simply so ye dinna shoot me.”

“Mayhap ’
twould
be best if I did.” She lifted her chin and Blane did not like the challenge in her gaze.

“I pray ye dinna, my lady.”

“A liar such as yourself is no better than the outlaws in the forest.” She winced and he had to keep his hands fisted at his side so as not to reach out and comfort her.

“I am no outlaw. I swear
to
the Lord
, strike me now, if I am not Blane your escort, come to take ye to your sister.”

Aliah’s eyes widened and she stared up at the ceiling, perhaps half expecting to see a diving hand reach down to strike him.

“Ye see, I am still here, ’tis as I say.”

She narrowed her eyes, the arrow still pointed with deadly accuracy at his chest. “Aye, you are still here, but your words mean little. You could be taking me to the graves of my family. And you the one who took their lives.”

Frustration whipped an angry chord through him. Blane snarled. “I am no devil.”

“Then who are you?”

With a deep exasperated breath through his flared nostrils, Blane pressed his lips together. The urge to throttle her was becoming strong. “
I am Blane Sutherland.”

“Of?”

“Of Sutherland.”

“What is that?”

“Ye truly are sheltered.”

Her face flamed at his comment. “I refuse to take offense.”

“Good, because I meant no offense, only stating a fact.”

“Well, you might be stating a fact, but you still haven’t told me where or what Sutherland is.”

“’Tis my family name and the place where I am from.”

He watched her grit her teeth at his watery answer.

“Blane of Sutherland, where is your homeland and don’t you dare say Sutherland else I strike you down here and now.”

Blane was impressed with her show of bravado and irritated with the way it warmed his blood. “Sutherland is a large holding in the Highlands. My brother is the chief of Clan Sutherland. Our leader.”

“And where is my sister being held?”

“She is not being held, Aliah,” he said with annoyance.

“What do you mean?”

“Your sister is Lady Sutherland.”

“How is that possible?”

“I’ll let her explain that to ye.”

At his words a myriad of emotions flitted across her face, some of which he could recognize—anger, denial, question. But she settled her features into a mask of non-emotion that sent a chill down his spine. As naïve as Lady Aliah was, she knew how to play the game well.

Lowering her bow and arrow, she again lifted her chin, her cool blue eyes meeting his. “Very well. I should like some time alone to think about all you have revealed to me.”

Blane sighed with relief and bowed low to her. “As ye wish, my lady.”

As soon as Blane shut the door behind him, Aliah leapt into action. Gathering her satchel she quickly shoved her belongings inside it and threw on her cloak. She strapped the
satchel to her back, making sure she still had access to her arrows. Without looking back, she flung back the fur covering the window and looked down. ’Twas a steep dro
p, but not unmanageable. If she placed her feet just
right, she could land without hurting herself too badly. Luckily the children had gone somewhere, mayhap inside to eat or nap. The only witness
es
to her escape would be a few sheep and chickens.

Aliah swung her leg through the opening of the window, praying that savage Blane would not return to the room to tell her more of his lies. Wind swept up the inside of her gown, making her shiver as it touched hidden places. Before she could
deliver
an excuse as to why she shouldn’t escape, she swung her other leg out the
opening
, and turned so her belly rested on the
l
edge of the window. It was now or never. Slowly she lowered her body, her arm muscles straining from her own weight as she dangled in the air.

Trying to find purchase with her feet, she was able to slip her toes between a couple of rocks giving her arms a moment’s rest as she
gathered
the nerve to jump.
Scrambling down
these walls was not an option, most of the stones were smooth, and
Master Kerr
obviously kept up with the mortar as she could find barely a spot to grab between the stones.

“You must jump, Aliah. ’Tis the only way,” she said to herself.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and let go of the w
indow, falling through the air
eight or ten feet to the ground. The drop was quick, and she landed with an, “
Oof
,” onto her bottom. She rubbed the spot, then quickly jumped to her feet and turned in a circle. Still appearing to be alone, she took a step toward the stables when
the sound of
clapping stopped her.

“Well done, my lady. I didna figure ye for a woman mad enough to jump from a window.”

Blane.

She whipped around to see him at the corner of the building.
He stood leaning casually against the stone, a crooked grin on his face. Aliah refused to let his charm and sensuality waver her decision to escape.

“But glad I am, that I caught your wee foot poking from the window and stood back to see what
ye’d
do. Are ye hurt?”

Seething, Aliah whipped out her arrow and
nocked
her bow. “I told you I wouldn’t hesitate to shoot you.”

He shook his head, annoyance in his gaze. “Ye still
dinna
believe me, lass?”

“Nay. Never.”

When he stepped toward her, Aliah only reacted. She let her arrow fly, not looking to see where it landed and ran toward the stables. Blane let out a shout of pain. She’d hit him.
Her heart hammered, thundering blood through her ears.
Never having missed a mark, she replayed in her mind where she’d aimed and she couldn’t recall.
Guilt made her hesitate, but self-preservation moved her feet forward. Storming into the stables, she didn’t bother to saddle Gunnar, but
instead simply put the reins on him and
hopped up onto his
bare back. With a shout to Frosty, she was through the doors of the stables, just as Blane hobbled toward her
, gripping an arrow protruding from his thigh. At first she was relieved to see him, but then realized he meant to stay her from her task. He
shout
ed at her to stop. H
is men looking confused until they spotted her atop the horse.

Well, at least he wasn’t dead. Blood ran down his thigh, over his naked knee. She shivered as the memory of his touch, his kiss invaded her mind. And she met his gaze. His fiery, livid gaze. The man would murder her if he caught her.

A loud whistle pierced the
air
, and beneath her
,
Gunnar stopped his progress toward the woods. She yanked on the reins, her hands trembling, stomach knotted. “Gunnar!” she
shouted, trying to get the horse to pay attention, but he simply refused to move.

Blane came closer, clutching at his thigh, the broken shaft of the arrow protruding from his flesh.

“Get off that horse, ye mad woman!” he said through gritted teeth.

Liam ran toward her, and she attempted to jump, but her own cloak caught her legs and instead she felt herself
falling;
only she didn’t land on the hard earth, but into the
rigid,
outstretched
arms of Liam. She would have preferred the earth as he glared at her as though he wished she were dead.

“Put her down,” Blane said, his voice gruff with pain.

Liam set her on her feet, her knees knocking together, heart beating so rapidly she though
t
it would surely burst.

“Please,” she pleaded. “Please let me go.”

Blane sto
pped with
in inches of her, t
he heat of his fury lashing off onto her body. “I will do no such thing, Lady Aliah. I have been charged with bringing y
e
to my brother and to his wife. If I should have to do so with your hands tied and mouth gagged, I will.”

Aliah swallowed hard at the unpleasantness of his threats and the realization that he was deadly serious. She couldn’t eve
n
think about what his brother wanted with her. Only that it couldn’t be good.

“Ye will come inside the
inn
now, and ye will take this arrow from my leg.”

“No,” she said weakly.

“Dinna deny me, Aliah.” His breath fanned over her face, and she dared to look up into his stormy eyes. “Ye shot me. Ye shot the man who was meant to protect ye.”

Something in his words, the conviction in them struck her. Was it possible he didn’t mean her harm?

“Take her bow,” he ordered Liam. “Now come with me.”

But her feet would not follow his command as Liam disarmed her. She felt naked without her own protection.

“Now, lass. My leg bloody hurts and ’tis
your
doing.
Y
e’ll
undo it. And if I’ve a mind, I may tell ye the whole of it.”