The Highlander's Folly (The Novels of Loch Moigh Book 3) (5 page)

C
HAPTER THREE

M
ake ready. We will depart the moment Cecil and Murray return,” Hunter barked. “I wish to put some distance between us and this place before we camp for the night.” His head ached, and he could scarce keep his wits about him—surely the results of his brief sojourn through time. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, opening one but a slit to keep Meghan in his sights.

Why could he not sense any of the lass’s emotions, and what scheme had Madame Giselle combined upon them both? His heart wrenched at the piteous lost look the lass couldn’t hide. Her shoulders slumped, and her mouth drew down at the corners. For truth, she looked as if she might burst into tears at any moment.

He hated when women wept. Their tears drew forth a helplessness and frustration within him that he could not abide. Moving to her side, he fought against the impulse to draw her into his arms. Instead, he widened his stance and crossed his arms in front of him. “No harm shall come to you, my lady. I swear it.”

“OK.”

Her small nod and grief-stricken expression nearly felled him where he stood. “I meant no offense by suggesting you act as my squire during our journey. ’Tis but an acceptable means to keep you close. Er . . . safe.” Heat crept up his neck, and he nearly rolled his eyes. ’Twas her fault he was so tongue-tied. Not knowing what she might be feeling had him off-kilter.

Allain approached and handed her a bundle of wool. She accepted it. “Thank you, Allain. I appreciate your willingness to loan these to me.” She smiled at the lad.

“
’Tis my pleasure to aid you in any way I can, my lady.” His page’s face went scarlet again. “I saw,” he whispered, glancing from him to Meghan.

“Saw what?” Meghan asked, her brow creased. “What do you mean?”

“
’
Twas my turn to keep watch over the hill, ye ken? I saw you defeat Sir Hunter.” A wide grin split his face. “Well met, my lady. Would you teach me that move? The one you used to land Sir Hunter on his ar . . . er . . . backside?”

“Oh. Sure.” Meghan straightened. “I’d love to teach you that move, and I know others. Lots, in fact. I’m a certified mixed martial arts instructor,” she said, her voice tinged with pride.

Confusion clouded Allain’s expression for a second before he turned to Hunter. “I said naught to the others. You being my master, it seemed disloyal to point out your defeat at the lady’s hand.”

“My thanks,” he replied dryly. “You
do
realize ’twould have been unchivalrous indeed to have used brute force against the fairer sex.”

“For certes.” Allain’s head bobbed as he hurried away.

“Right. Unchivalrous.” Meghan’s eyes glinted with challenge. “Care for a rematch?”

“Nay.” He took the garments from her. “One demonstration of your considerable skill shall suffice.” He shook Allain’s tunic and cloak vigorously to free them of any vermin that might have taken refuge in the woolen folds. “Be quick about changing, and stow your good tunic and chain mail on the wagon with the rest of our things.”

“All right,” she murmured. She blinked, and her tone was once more subdued.

“I much prefer your ire, lass.” Had he said that aloud? For certes, he had not meant to, but now he was committed. “Moping does you no good, nor does it become you.”

“So sorry to disappoint,” she hissed, snatching the garments back from his hands. “No thanks to you, I’ve had a very trying day—what with losing my family, home and century and all. Forgive me for succumbing to a moment or two of self-pity.”

“You are forgiven.” He grinned in spite of himself. “See that it does no’ happen again.”

Her eyes narrowed, and her lips pursed. He gave her a slight bow and walked away before she could loosen her tongue to blister his hide and prick his already overburdened conscience further. He strode to the crest of the hill to watch for Cecil and Murray’s return. Tieren soon joined him, as he’d hoped he would. He reverted to signing.
“
’
Tis all Madame Giselle’s doing.”

“As you suspected.”
Tieren nodded.
“
What is the faerie up to now
?
”

“Time will tell.”
He shook his head.
“I am unable to read aught from Meghan. She is closed to me,”
he signed.
“I’ve never encountered the like before.”

“
Good.”
Tieren laughed as he signed back.
“Finally we are on equal footing when it comes to a lass.”

“She’s from True and Erin’s time.”
Hunter frowned.
“We are not vying for the lady’s favor. She will not be here long. Besides, I am already pledged to Lady Sky Elizabeth.”

Tieren met his frown with a cocky grin.
“As you recall, our Lady True and Lady Erin were only to be with us a short while as well. Yet both are now settled with families of their own. Both have been here for nearly a score of years.”
His gaze went to Meghan.
“I’d just as soon not have you as a rival for her affections.”
He shot Hunter a wry look.
“I may decide to court her.”

“Court her
?
”
The notion soured his stomach. What could he say? He had no rights in the matter. Stifling a growl, he turned back to his watch over the hills. “Here they come.” Murray and Cecil raced toward them. Judging by their haste, Cecil had his proof and wanted to be away as quickly as Hunter did.
“
As soon as we’re home, I’ll send to Inverness for word of Madame Giselle’s whereabouts. I’ll see that Meghan is returned to her own time as soon as can be arranged.”

“Och, aye?” Tieren said aloud, then switched back to signing.
“Think you the faerie will be swayed by your wishes
?
”
He laughed again.
“In the meantime, I shall endeavor to persuade Meghan to remain. With me.”

Tieren’s words shouldn’t have made him angry, but they did. Most likely because he’d already taken it upon himself to protect her. He’d snatched her from her time. ’Twas his responsibility to see to her welfare until she could be returned to her family. Surely ’twas all there was to this anger churning in his gut.
“In what capacity would you have her stay
?
”

“Once we return to Moigh Hall, I intend never to leave again. ’Tis certain the earl will grant me a good living as a captain in his garrison. As you ken, I’ve earned a tidy fortune myself while on the continent. I can well afford a wife, bairns and a comfortable home.”
His attention strayed to where Meghan stood with her back to them as she changed into the rough tunic. “Och, but she’s a braw, bonnie lass, is she no’? ’Twas quite provocative to see her dressed as a squire with a sword strapped across her back,” Tieren said aloud.

“Aye, a braw, bonnie lass who wishes to go home to her own place and time.”

“We shall see.”

Cecil rode into their midst, his face pale and drawn. “Let us leave this place anon.” His mare pranced and tossed her head against the tight pull Cecil had on the bit. “Hunter spoke the truth. The fair is no more, nor are there any signs ’twas ever there.” His eyes wild, he stared at all of them. “You saw the wagons and such, aye? Mayhap ’tis true they were never there, and the fae bewitched us all.”

“We found no sign o’ Nevan or the lads.” Murray gestured to his squire and page to mount their palfreys. “Let us be off. We can talk more freely once we’re well away and camped for the night.”

Meghan swung herself up on Nevan’s warhorse without aid. Anoth
er knightly feat she managed with ease. He shook his head and went for Doireann’s reins. “You saw?” he asked Tieren, who walked beside him.

“I did,” Tieren whispered. “Who trained her, do you suppose?”

“Her da. I’ll tell the tale once we camp.”

“I look forward to it. I’ll take up the rear.”

Tieren veered off for his own mount, and they were soon upon the road again, traveling in silence. Like him, each of them pondered the events of the day. The air was rife with the speculation and fear coursing through the group. Once again the prickle of premonition skittered over his skin. If only he could discern what it meant. If Meghan had been sent here to save some hapless soul’s life, he could only hope against hope ’twas not his hide she was meant to protect. Surely he was naught in Giselle’s scheme but the means to bring Meghan here.

He glanced back at her from his place at the head of the line. Deep in thought, she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. Beleaguered, he blew out a breath. If he didn’t stop her, she’d chew it bloody. “Cecil, take the lead,” he commanded, turning Doireann’s head. He trotted back to flank her mount. “You will tell me where your thoughts lead you.”

“Will I?” She snorted and blinked at him. Her brow rose. “Just because you command something, it’s a done deal?”

“For the most part, aye.” That he couldn’t read her emotions frustrated and puzzled him. She was a mystery, and he did not like mysteries. He preferred having the upper hand and being in control of every situation. ’Twas his natural inclination. Those very same tendencies made him a natural leader. She thwarted him, and that rankled. “I canna help you if I dinna ken where your thoughts are leading you, lass. Tell me now.”

“You feel honor bound to direct my thoughts?” Her eyes widened. “Don’t bother. That kind of control must take an awful lot of energy on your part, and I don’t want to be responsible for exhausting your pea-brain.”

“I thank you for your concern, my lady. Humor me nonetheless.” Without thought, he placed a finger under her chin. Turning her to face him, he ran his thumb over her lower lip. Ignoring the frisson of excitement touching her caused, he assessed the damage she’d already inflicted. “I fear your lip canna bear much more . . .
thought
.”

She jerked away from his touch. “It’s not that big a deal,” she said, keeping her voice to barely a whisper. “I was just remembering what you said about entering the spider’s lair and her sticky web.” She shrugged. “The strands of a spider’s web intersect, right? Robley and Erin spent a lot of time with my family. Robley shared a little of your story when he told us about his clan and family. I know Madame Giselle has played a part in all of your lives. I’m just trying to figure out the whys and wherefores of my current situation.”

Her expression clouded. “If Giselle meant to restore balance, then I
should
be in thirteenth-century Ireland right now, because that’s where and when my dad was taken by the fae.”

“Your sire was taken from his time as well?” This tidbit did naught to give him ease. Indeed, it only muddled Giselle’s true purpose even further.

“Yeah. It’s a long story and not the point.” She blew out a breath. “Where do I fit into Giselle’s plot? What do you think she has in store for me?” She paused as if gathering herself, and then her sorrowful brown eyes sought his. “Will I be able to go home, do you think?”

The vulnerability and insecurity he glimpsed in her expression turned his insides to porridge. The urge to protect and comfort her surged with such force, he could scarce prevent himself from snatching her from her horse and placing her on his lap. He wanted to hold her. Nay, ’twas far worse—he
needed
to hold her. He gripped the reins in his hands with such force the leather edges bit into his palms.

He might not be able to read her emotions as he did with others, but it mattered not. She wore every one of them upon her comely features. Such an odd mix was she, entirely feminine, lovely, graceful and delicate, yet possessing the skills, courage and strength to rival any well-trained squire.

Guilt, sharp-edged and swift, pierced his heart. Where did this inclination to hold Meghan come from? He was promised to Sky, and had been since the day she was born. He’d held her tiny, wriggling form in his arms and kent in that instant that they were meant for each other. He was as sure of it now as he had been then. Taking himself firmly in hand, he answered, “Och, lass, if I’d had even an inkling of what Giselle had in mind—”

“You would have prevented the whole thing. I get it. Thanks. Just so you know, I don’t blame you for what happened.”

“Nay? Still, I blame myself. I should have refused to do her any favors.” He surveyed their party to assure himself all was well. “If it pleases you, my lady, I’ll ride beside you awhile to ensure your bottom lip remains unmolested.”

Her sudden burst of laughter went straight through him. Unbidden, the happy sound wrapped itself around his heart and wended its way to his very soul. He basked in the warmth and marveled at the sparkle in her eye—before his sanity returned.

Shaking himself free of the heady sensations, he gathered his defenses, hardened his heart and firmed his resolve. A knight’s honor was his most valuable possession, and above all else, he was an honorable man.