Highlander's Touch (21 page)

She couldn’t tell, and with his guard standing close she didn’t want to question him only to find out that wasn’t what he had in mind. So, she took his hand, letting his large grip encompass hers and allowing his strength to seep into her.

Ewan led her toward Bhaltair, who nickered when he recognized her. Shona patted him on his forehead, rubbing that spot between his eyes that she knew he liked.

“Ye’ve ruined my horse,” Ewan said. “The beast has never greeted anyone besides me until he met ye.”

Shona smiled.  “He’s a sweet horse.”

Ewan grunted. “He’s yours now. Canna have a sweet horse to take into battle.”

Shona clucked her tongue. “Dinna let him hear ye say such.”

He reached for her, gripping her around the waist and lifting her as though she weighed nothing. He leapt onto the horse behind her, shifting her to sit on his lap, her legs dangling over his.

His thigh felt hard beneath her buttocks, and the warmth of his body seeping into hers reminded her of all the precious moments they’d shared inside her cottage. She yearned for more of those moments with him. Shona snuggled against him, wanting to savor the ride back to the castle, because she didn’t know if she’d get him to herself again.

Aye, he’d said he wanted to walk the road with her, but she didn’t know what that meant. If she were going to be a healer in the castle, and already on edge with the townsfolk thinking her a witch, then she had to protect her reputation. She couldn’t be seen gallivanting around with Ewan, no matter how much her heart and body yearned for him. A woman’s reputation was the most valuable thing she had, Rory had taught her that. And she needn’t give the clan and townsfolk fodder for their wagging tongues.

One of the reasons Rory had kept her at arm’s length—he was afraid of ruining her reputation. She’d understood it, even if there had been a time when she wanted to be closer. After meeting Ewan, she’d realized that the feelings she’d harbored for Rory weren’t a thing of the heart, nor a deeper attraction that stirred her blood. She’d thought she was supposed to feel something for him. After all, he’d saved her. Mayhap that had to do with her doubt in Ewan’s feelings. Did he only offer to bring her to the castle, to be with her, because he felt obligated?

Shona tried to shift forward, determined to get away from all of his heat. Already, her body was responding and making her lose sense, which was wholly inappropriate considering that she’d been held down by a complete monster, and the dead lay in a pile to their left. But Ewan wrapped his arm around her waist and yanked her back flush against him.

Her nipples tightened and between her thighs tingled, growing damp with the anticipation of something that would not come.

Nettles, but the man made a wicked wanton out of her.

Ewan urged his horse forward. Men flanked them on both sides and behind, holding torches to light their way through the woods. They crossed over a shallow body of water, the men whispering prayers that no water beasts or nymphs would come up to capture them as they went.

They made it safely to the other side and then Ewan ordered them all into a gallop.

With nowhere to go, and Ewan not letting her lean away from him, Shona sank against his warm, bare chest. She closed her eyes and imagined that Ewan was hers and hers alone.

All the chills that had seeped inside her the moment the foul demons had knocked on her door dissipated. A strong sense of calm filled her. From here on, things would be different. There would be much she’d need to learn about living in a castle. But she knew her trade well, and she was certain she could gain the respect of the people quickly, if only they wouldn’t think her a witch. Maybe that was where Ewan could help her.

“I hope ye’ll forgive me,” Ewan whispered in her ear.

“There is nothing to forgive.” She turned her head enough that she could look up at him without having to sit forward.

Stubble covered his strong jaw, and his lips were curved slightly in a grin, though there was much more to that small turn of lips than happiness. She saw question, hope, fear, relief.

“I feel differently,
mo chridhe.
” He pressed his lips to her head, and inhaled deeply.

’Twas the second time he’d called her
his heart
. He’d also called her
love
. The terms of endearments tugged at her heart, made her belly do a little flip. They made her feel hope she wasn’t certain she should have. Ewan didn’t strike her as the type of man who threw out meaningless endearments. But could she trust them? She’d been alone for so long, it was hard to know whether her instincts were accurate or not.

“Ye dinna owe me anything, Ewan. I did not save ye because I expected anything in return.” She chewed her lip and glanced at the men around them, hoping they couldn’t hear what she was saying. “Nor did I consent to make love with you because I had hoped to gain something from it.”

Ewan growled low in his throat. “I’d never think such about ye. When I said those things back at your cottage, I didna mean them. I was angry. I was jealous. Ye see, Shona, I want ye for my own. When I came back to find ye, I was determined to steal ye away from the outlaw ye’d married.”

Shona was struck by what he’d said. Elation filled her chest, but at the same time, confusion and dread. “Outlaw?”

What exactly did the Grants believe about Rory?

“Aye, lass. Rory MacLeod was a wanted man.”

“YE’RE mistaken,” Shona said, her voice shaking.

Ewan tugged her closer, not wanting her to be upset with him. They rode at an easy lope, their pace quick but not jarring. The sky was inky black and golden stars winked down upon them. The sound of their voices carried over the pound of hooves in an otherwise silent night.

“Nay, lass. His chief sent a missive to Laird Grant.”

“Then his chief lied.” Conviction dripped from her words. “Rory was a good man. He didna deserve whatever happened to him.”

Shona sounded close to tears causing guilt to sour Ewan’s belly for having been the one to make her feel that way.

“Ye knew him well?” he asked softly.

“Aye, verra well these past five years. He was not an outlaw. He was kind. He was fierce, but with purpose. He planned to approach Laird Grant with his story and ask for a place within his guard.”

That did not sound at all like what he’d heard, but Ewan trusted Shona. If she believed this than it was worth examining. “What happened?”

Shona shrugged and sank further into him, as though she wanted to disappear. “He left to buy a mule. Thought it would help us with preparing our small garden and harvest. But he never returned.”

The man would have most likely traveled to Gealach village or a nearby town during one of the market days. Any number of people could have seen him.

“When?” Ewan asked.

Shona crossed her arms over her chest, her elbow resting on his own arm. “Nearly two years past, now.”

“And ye’ve been alone all this time?” Great sorrow seeped into his voice. He couldn’t imagine her being left alone. She deserved so much better than that.

“Aye.”

She was even stronger than he first realized. “How did ye survive?”

“My trade.”

“Healing?”

Pride filled her voice when she answered. “Aye, ’tis why some people thought I was witch. I am exceptionally gifted.”

And she was.

“Uneducated peopled dinna understand the difference between knowledge and sorcery. They will soon learn the truth.”

She shrugged again, but said nothing. He could practically feel the doubt rolling off of her in waves. She didn’t think they would accept her. Didn’t think she’d make it in the village or the castle.

Her doubt pained him, because he wanted everything to be perfect for her.

“I’ll see that ye are welcomed. And our laird has said he’ll see to it as well.”

“Ye mentioned that. But how?”

“Trust me, Laird Grant has his clan well in hand. They trust him, Shona, and ye should, too.”

“I wish that I could.” She turned slightly to study him. “’Tis not that I wish to give your laird any disrespect, only that it has been verra hard for me to trust anyone over the years.”

Ewan worked to thrust his frustration aside. Having been in her situation once before, he tried to find the right words to say. “I will make things right for ye. That I promise.”

She smiled. “I know ye will try, and I appreciate it. But I also have to find my own way. When I came to Gealach, I hid behind Rory, and then when he was gone, I hid behind the trees and the kindness of those who sought me out. I canna hide forever.”

“Ye’re brave. Braver than ye know,” Ewan said.

A soft laugh escaped her. “If ye say so.”

“I dinna only say it to hear the sound, lass. Words should never be uttered without meaning.”

She glanced up at him again and he found his heart flooding with warmth at the trust in her eyes.

“Then I thank ye, warrior.”

They came to the end of the woods and across the moors the village lay sprinkled beneath a vast star-peppered sky. Lights from torches lit the high thick stone wall that circled the bailey and main stone keep. Castle Gealach. The impressive sight always brought him both chills and a thrill. This place he called home. This place that had changed his life.

“We’re almost there,” he said.

Nodding to his men, they continued their brisk pace over the soft dewy grasses until they came to the gate.

“Ewan Fraser,” he called up to the men, who quickly raised the portcullis and opened the massive double wooden doors, their iron hinges cranking.

“Welcome back, Master Fraser,” the gatekeeper called down.

The men rode through the opened gate into the lower bailey, greeted by a couple of guards and several groomsmen who’d been roused to complete the care of their horses.

“A special treat for Bhaltair,” Ewan ordered. The poor beast had worked hard to get him to Shona’s cottage and then to the camp and back.

He dismounted from the horse and then reached for Shona. His fingers spanned her tiny waist and he lifted her, remembering how much he liked the feel of her in his arms. As he slid her—rather indecently—down his body, her lush curves molding against his hard contours, he gave her a wicked grin.

“Welcome to Castle Gealach.”

Shona flashed him a saucy smile in return. “Will every dismount be as… enticing as this one?”

Ewan laughed. “Only if ’tis me.”

“Why, of course.” With a coquettish tilt of her head she skirted around him. From all outward appearances, she seemed unafraid of where they were and the rumors that surrounded her. That was one of the things he found himself drawn to—her bravery, her ability to forge ahead.

Blast, but he’d fallen hard for the chit.

And why did he get the sense that she was teasing him with that brazen look? A glance meant to rouse his manly bravado. Probably because she was. There was never a dull moment where Shona was concerned.

“Captain.” Baodan stood beside him holding out a thick woolsack.

Ewan eyed it, knowing the contents. With a nod he took the sack, noting that his men had done a good job wrapping the head, as no blood dripped from the bottom.

“Baodan, see Lady Shona to my chamber while I go and speak to his lairdship.”

Shona jerked her gaze toward him, fear in her eyes. Ewan gently took her hand in his and squeezed. Lord, but he wanted so badly to brush his lips over hers.

“I’ll nay be long, and Baodan will see ye safely to my chamber. Bar the door if ye like when ye get there,” he said.

Inching close to him, she whispered, “Will I not have my own room? What will they think?”

Ewan glanced down at her, an understanding smile on his lips. “They will think naught of it, lass. There is not another room prepared for ye, and I can always sleep with the men.”

She nodded, pulling her hand away and tugging the blanket he’d given her tighter around her shoulders. Because the urge grew to be too much, Ewan leaned down and brushed his lips over hers.

“No worries,
mo chridhe
.”