His Conquest (6 page)

“We must find the plantain and seek shelter before the knights return,” she said, her voice unsteady.

For a long moment he held her gaze as if weighing an important decision. He nodded. “Look to your left.”

She turned. A short distance away, near where the land fell away to the rush of water below, tall leaves clustered together and jutted from the damp earth. Heat touched her face. With her mind lost in thoughts of Seathan, she’d missed the plantain.

Chagrined, she walked over and knelt before the herb. “It is a blessing we found it so close to the cave.”

Seathan grunted. “It is common enough.”

And so it was.

From the corner of her eye, she observed the Scot. He stood, his gaze alert, scouring the perimeter. Ever the warrior. Only the slight shift of his posture, the paleness of his face, betrayed his weakened condition. Amazing after all he’d endured.

Linet tore free a stalk of the sturdy plant. What had Lord Grey experienced during his life that enabled him to endure so much pain and still persevere?

She picked another hardy leaf. No, mayhap she needed not to know. Already she cared more for Seathan than was wise.

Shaken by the emotions this man made her feel, she immersed herself in her task. The rich, earthy fragrance of the forest scented the cool air as she tore each plantain leaf from its base. The menial job served as a balm to the complexity of her thoughts. After she’d collected enough leaves to make a poultice, she stood.

“Had it been farther along in the season,” Seathan said, “we might have found yarrow as well.”

Surprised, she glanced up to discover him watching her intently. Had he been observing her the entire time? She willed herself not to blush. “You know much about herbs?”

“After a battle, a healer is rarely on hand to care for the wounded,” he replied. “A warrior who neglects learning of the healing herbs could forfeit his life.”

“Who taught you where to find herbs and how to properly use them?”

Sadness shadowed his eyes. He hesitated. “My mother.”

Her heart softened. “You cared for her very much.”

“She was a good woman.” Pride resonated in his voice as well as love.

“Where is she now?” she asked, curious about the woman who had raised this formidable man.

“She died giving birth to my youngest brother.”

“I am sorry.”

He shrugged. “’Tis life’s way.”

Though he acted indifferent, she’d seen the hurt at his loss. Many years might have passed and perhaps the memories had faded, but his love for his mother had not. A fact she empathized with as well.

Somber, she cradled the plantain in her hands and slowly made her way back toward the cave; Seathan kept pace at her side.

Winter brown grass lay limp around her. “You come from a large family?”

“My past matters not.”

Frustration slid through her. “I am not the enemy.”

“So you claim.”

Could he not allow a moment of peace between them? She shook her head as he made to speak. “It matters not. As you said, your family is not my concern.”

“That does not seem to affect my inclination to answer your questions,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Soon I will be telling you about the woman who—”

When his words broke off, Linet glanced over. If not for the flicker of emotion in his eyes, she would have missed the importance of his response. Her senses came on alert. Then she understood. He hadn’t known countless women at all.

A woman, one woman, had hurt him.

“Who was she?” The sincerity of her question echoed between them.

Seathan rolled his shoulders as if to loosen the stiffness in them. He shielded his eyes and scanned the horizon. “A green lad’s delusion.”

“And the reason you do not trust women?”

Surprise shuttered his face. For a long moment he studied her, then shrugged. “Aye.”

Her pulse raced that he’d admit such a painful truth.

“And what of the reason for your lack of trust toward men?”

“I have known many a fine man.”

“A diversion, but not an answer.”

Mouth dry, she turned toward him, stopped. “I trusted my father.”

“And?”

“Beyond him, it seems when it comes to the opposite sex, you and I share the same view.”

Intrigue sparked in his eyes. “It is a safe view.” Seathan headed toward the cave.

Linet kept pace at his side.
A safe view.
Interesting comment from a man who lived on the edge—except with his emotions. Those he safeguarded deep inside.

And what of the woman who’d hurt him? Had he loved her? An ache pierced her chest. Yes, he would have. In the brief time she’d known Seathan, she’d learned he was a man who did nothing by halves. What would it be like to be loved with such intensity by a man who, when he gave his vow, backed it with his life?

The woman who’d hurt him was a fool.

As was she—an even greater one for wondering if Seathan felt anything more toward her than disdain.

Still, memories of Seathan’s kiss, the powerful yearnings his touch inspired, poured through her like oil upon a flame. What would making love to him be like? Would he be a gentle lover? Fierce? Would his intensity sweep her into emotions untried? He seemed a man who was thorough, regardless of his task. How could that trait not carry into making love?

Sunlight spilled through the leaves ahead, carving fractured shadows in the patches of snow and earth.

A fleeting smile curved her mouth. How appropriate. The riddled path was so like her life, a battle of darkness and light. And like the sun in the sky moving to day’s end, so was her time to reach her mother’s clan falling away.

“I have three brothers, two are still alive,” Seathan said.

Confused, Linet glanced over. “What?”

“You asked if I came from a large family.”

The man would drive a saint to distraction. “That was several moments ago, and you replied that your past mattered not.” She frowned. “What made you decide to answer me now?”

“I believed it wisest.”

She frowned. “Wisest? That now is the time to share information about your brothers with me? Not when I asked you several moments ago?”

At his silence, realization dawned. “Your sharing of your life is but a ploy,” she stated, anger seeping into her words. “You want to see how I will react. Or have me lower my guard so I will share personal information about my family in return, is that not your intent?” She should feel guilty at the question as she, too, used the same tactic. Nonetheless, his offer of false friendship hurt. “I am not a maiden easily won.”

“Nay, I would never make that mistake.”

“Then, what am I to you?” Linet couldn’t believe she’d asked, but she found his answer important. Somewhere along the way, Seathan had come to matter. He was no longer just a means of vengeance against her brother, but a man she wanted in her life.

“An intriguing woman.”

“Intriguing? ’Tis better than boring.” At her reply, a smile edged his mouth, easing the tension between them. “And what of your father?” she asked, her interest purely personal.

He looked off into the distance. “He died in battle.”

Sadly, they had the loss of their fathers in common. “I am sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because…Because I understand the pain of losing someone you love.”

“Did someone’s death inspire your decision to free me?”

She blew out a breath. “Why is it you must seek information at every turn? For once, can we not speak without suspicion, or doubts of the other’s motive, as people with naught more between them than concern for the other?”

Green eyes watched her unmoved. “We are at war. Letting down one’s guard is an invitation to die.”

“At war? The rebels’ acts are but protests against a battle already lost. This summer past, King Edward seized Scotland. Regardless of your wish, he is your sovereign, your homeland his to rule.”

He scowled. “Sovereign? Nay, Longshanks is not my ruler, nor will he ever be Scotland’s.”

“You argue fact,” she said, understanding his outrage. “Nobles throughout Scotland have pledged their fealty to King Edward.”

“The Ragman Roll?” Distaste flowed from his tongue. “A worthless document signed by spineless men, or those threatened with their life. Do you believe those badgered into signing were sincere?”

“A fact I had not truly considered. And what of King John?” she asked, moved by the passion of Seathan’s reply.

Green eyes darkened with disgust. “King John? No Scot worth his sword acknowledges him as such. From the day he betrayed his homeland and resigned his kingdom to King Edward, he earned his title ‘Toom Tabard.’”

Linet frowned. “Toom Tabard?”

“Empty surcoat,” he spat. “King of nothing. A true warrior of Scotland would have fought to his death, not whimpered like a frightened dog at the first sign of challenge.”

On that she agreed. If faced with the same situation, Seathan would have battled for what he believed in.

She understood why King Edward wanted Lord Grey dead. The Scot’s spirit inspired the rebels, like that of William Wallace, the nobleman the earl served. Both were warriors who refused to yield or give up what they believed was right.

Humbled, she drew in a slow breath. After King Edward’s resounding defeat of the Scots this summer past, she’d believed the English king would easily smother further rebellion, that the infrequent clashes with the English were little more than pockets of resistance.

After meeting Seathan, she realized King Edward’s claim that he’d subdued the Scots was more wishful than fact. To focus his efforts on Flanders, the English king had too quickly dismissed the Scottish rebels’ intent to reclaim their kingdom.

“And the reason you freed me?” Seathan asked into the silence.

She looked away. “Never mind.”

“Now who is it who evades the question?”

Linet met his gaze, wanting him to see the sincerity in her eyes. “There is life beyond war.”

“Mayhap, for those absorbed in nobility’s games, those safe within castles filled with knights for protection, stocked with food and weapons to withhold an attack for weeks.”

“I am far from a witless woman ignorant of the strife of our times.”

“On that I agree. You are far from witless.”

She arched a brow. “But I am a woman ignorant of the strife of our times, correct?”

He watched her. “Are you not?”

“Would it matter either way?”

“You again evade my question.”

“This is not a game.”

“Nay,” he said, his voice hard. “I have buried too many friends to ever think that.”

She swallowed hard. “As have I,” she said, thinking of her father, friends, many who had mattered to her. “It is a waste of time to battle with words. In truth, King Edward’s desire for power has affected us all, but we do not have to allow it to guide us.”

“Only the innocent, or those protected within castle walls, would believe so, my lady.”

So he’d deduced her noble status. She wasn’t surprised. Neither would she confirm his claim or lead him to any path that might unveil her link to Fulke. “Mayhap I am but an optimist.”

“From the short time that I have known you, your strength is in dealing with facts, not clinging to hopeful beliefs.”

“And my weakness?”

“Your empathy.”

For an unexplainable reason, his comment left her on guard. “You care for your people as well. There is no weakness in helping others.”

He arched a doubtful brow. “Even your enemy? Even rescuing a condemned Scot from an English dungeon?”

“No, you are not my enemy. You are…” Sweet Mary, what was she thinking? She’d almost admitted he was a man she was coming to care for, a man she wanted with each breath. She dropped her gaze. A fact she could never share.

“I am what?” he prodded.

She looked up to find him watching her, his gaze intent, as if he could strip away her shield and read the secrets of her soul.

A distant yell shattered the silence.

Seathan caught her hand. “Hurry. We must reach the cave before the knights arrive.”

Face pale, Linet nodded.

“This way,” a distant guard yelled.

He started to run by her side, faltered.

“Seathan?”

Seathan gritted his teeth and hauled Linet toward the steep incline leading to the falls.

Another guard yelled, this time closer.

Bedamned! Plantain flew from her hands as he tugged her with him over the steep ledge of thick grass. The mist of the falls below swirled around them.

Through the billows of fluid white, men riding out of the forest appeared.

“God’s teeth,” he whispered. “If the knights ride closer, they will see us.” Before Linet could reply, he pulled her with him as he shoved back.

Long, mist-fed grass slapped his face. The raging water of the falls below pulsed in a wild mangle as they half slid, half fell down the steep, slippery slope.

An arm’s length from the edge, Seathan jammed his foot into the muck, shoved to the left. Pain exploded in his left arm as he slammed into a boulder. His vision blurred. His head spun as if after a night of too much drink.

But they’d stopped.

Several feet below, the rush of water roared. He dragged in deep breaths, fighting to remain conscious.

“Seathan?”

The worry in her voice had him forcing his eyes open. He saw two of the lass. Slowly, his vision cleared.

Eyes wide with fear, she clung to him. “I…”

“Thought we were going over?”

She nodded.

“If we had remained near the top,” he said between rough gasps, “Tearlach’s men would have seen us.”

“I know.” Her voice shook.

Protectiveness swamped him. Against the pain, he drew her to him. “We are safe.” For now. But how much longer he could not guarantee.

The rumble of hooves had him looking up. Through the mist-coated grass, he glimpsed a knight cantering by, then another as the contingent passed.

What had he been thinking to stand in the open talking to the lass as if ’twas a day of leisure?

Her grip on his arm loosened. “I—I think the men are gone.”

“Mayhap, but we will remain here a while to make sure.”

“You think they will return.”

“They will. Tearlach will not quit until he has us both.”

Guilt flashed in her eyes. She nodded, but said no more, a mystery that left him on edge as it had from the first.

Linet glanced toward his side, gasped. “Your wound is bleeding.”

Not surprised, he looked down. Blood was slowly staining the garb underneath his arm. He pressed his palm against the wound to staunch the flow. Sticky wetness seeped against his fingers.

“You have torn open the bindings,” she said. “They will have to be rebound.”

“Aye.”

Linet scoured the falls below. She turned back, her face pale.

“We are wedged solidly and will not slip.”

She nodded, her look far from assured. “Keep me steady.”

Once he’d shifted and clasped her shoulder, she tore the hem of her gown. With his help, she wrapped the cloth around him, secured it, but he didn’t miss the awareness in her eyes when she touched him, or the tangle of need woven within.

She tugged the last knot snug. “Take care when you climb up.”

He held her gaze a long moment, their earlier intimate conversation haunting him with unsettling warmth. “It will serve its purpose.” He shrugged off the odd emotion and focused on his injury. Once they’d reached the safety of the cave, he would tend his wound better. A reopened gash was minor compared to the danger if Tearlach’s men discovered them.

Time passed with soul-drugging slowness. His injury pounded as if bashed with a mace, but he focused on the warmth of Linet’s body flush against his, the way she settled against him as if she’d given him her full trust.

Her body trembled.

“Steady, lass.”

She shot a worried look toward the top. “We must return to the cave.”

He heard the fear in her voice, understood her concern with the falls but a short distance below, and with the men scouring the area above.

“We will wait a few moments longer.”

She nodded but remained silent.

Against his better sense, his admiration for her grew. Many a pampered lass would be screaming like a stallion gelded.

A wave of fatigue washed over him. Seathan fought past it, then glanced down. Water pounded below them, its rising spray a shimmering mist. Sunlight filtered through the droplets like fairy dust. He grimaced. Twice in as many days he’d thought of the fey. His mind was surely abandoning him.

Enough!

He pushed to his knees, then helped Linet to turn, the angled slope of grass and brambles presenting its own challenge.

“Up you go, lass.” He shoved his foot into the soft muck, ignored the pain, and pushed.

Linet’s foot slipped at his side. “I cannot find a grip.”

“Catch hold of the grass. Pull yourself up.”

She shot him a worried glance. “It will mean letting go of you.”

He nodded. “I will be right behind you. I will not let you fall.”

Her lips curved in a wry smile. “It is not me that I am concerned about.”

“I need not the worry of a milk-fed lass.” Irritation flashed in her eyes as he’d expected. She made to speak, but he gave her a shove. “On with you.”

“Stubborn you are.”

He grunted. “I doubt I hold a candle to you.”

She muttered something unintelligible. With the flash of anger blazing in her eyes, he suspected the telling would not be flattering. A pang of remorse shot through him. He grimaced. ’Twas a sad day indeed when his mind weakened for a woman whose life was spun in secrets. His thoughts should be on his brothers’ safety and his country’s freedom.

“Move,” he ordered.

With a disapproving frown, Linet grabbed a thatch of long grass above her. She shoved her foot into the soft earth as she pulled. Her arm trembled.

With his right hand, Seathan pressed his palm against her shoulder, pushed.

She moved up an inch.

“Again,” he commanded.

This time as she pulled herself, he braced himself against the boulder, wrapped both hands around her waist, and lifted.

Linet caught another hunk of grass closer to the top.

“You are almost there,” he urged.

She caught another handful of grass, pulled herself up. Inch by inch, she tugged until at last she disappeared into the wash of green rimming the cliff above.

Blades of grass shifted. Linet’s head reappeared, her face flushed from exertion. “Now you.”

He gritted his teeth, reached up, and pulled. Pain tore through his side, his injury throbbing as if salt-stung. Sweat broke out on his brow as he reached up and caught a nearby bush. His fingers shook, his body trembled, but he worked himself up farther.

And collapsed.

Limp, he gasped for breath as he lay facedown against the water-slicked grass. He glanced behind him, blew out a deep breath. He’d made it but a hand’s width.

“Can you make it?”

The fear in her voice had him looking up. “Aye.” He’d suffered far worse than the injuries he’d sustained now. Gritting his teeth, Seathan twisted the long blades within his palm. This time, he wedged his boot against the boulder as he struggled up. Though his arm screamed with agony and his body rebelled, he shoved harder.

Blackness threatened. Mud and grass whipped by as he slid back.

“Seathan!” Linet’s voice echoed from far away in his mind.

The edge of a stone dug into his injured shoulder. He jerked to consciousness, clasped the base of a knotted bramble, looked down. Christ’s blade. His boots were hanging off the ledge!

Mud squished as Linet slid down the decline toward him. She laced one hand within his, grabbed the boulder with the other, and held tight.

“I thought I had lost you.”

He heard the fear in her voice, the desperation as well. His head buzzed. Aches stormed his body. “I—I told you to stay back.”

“And I told you not to leave the cave. ’Twould seem we each have a problem listening to orders.” She looked above them, grimaced. “We have to get you up.”

In his weakened state, he doubted he would reach the top anytime soon.

“Return to the cave. I will follow once I am able.”

“I will not go without you.”

From her determined expression, she wasn’t going to budge. Fine then. “Where you found the earlier supplies in the cave, there is a hemp rope. Retrieve it.”

She nodded. “Do not move.”

“As if I have an option?” he asked, his voice pained.

Linet shot him a warning look, turned, and with Seathan’s help, started up.

“When you return,” Seathan called, “do not climb down.”

Frustration poured through Linet as she glanced back. “One would believe you would have learned that I do not follow orders well—especially from you.”

Green eyes narrowed.

She ignored him. Anger fueled her as she inched up the steep slope, her body still shaking at the memory of him sliding back, of his losing consciousness as he fell. Until he’d hit the boulder, woken, and caught himself on the bush, she’d thought he was going over.

He would have died.

Damn him, he’d come close. She swallowed hard, her heart still pounding at the thought. Until this moment, though drawn to him and aware that she would miss him once they’d parted company, she’d convinced herself that she would be able to wipe Seathan from her mind.

Now, she realized she’d lied. Once they reached the Highlands and he departed, her heart would never be the same. Not that she loved him. Her feelings ran deep for Seathan because of the man he was, because of his courage and his determination to protect those he cared for. Any woman would feel the same if they came to know him.

She could never allow anything serious to grow between them. She brushed several strands of hair from her face. Besides, he’d clearly stated he wanted no woman in his life.

At the top of the bank, she peered through the blades of thick grass for any sign of her brother’s men. Several trees away, a raven sat on a low branch. Otherwise, the forest stood empty.

With one last look toward Seathan, she shoved to her feet, then ran. Her pulse raced as she wove through the trees, the warmth of the sun upon her face far from erasing the chill within.

Please God, let him hang on.

After a brief but harried search within the cavern, she found the hemp rope. Once she’d scoured her surroundings and found no sign of knights, she bolted to the cliff.

With her heart in her throat, Linet peered over. He still clung near the edge. Thank God. “Seathan,” she called above the rush of water.

He glanced up, pain raw upon his face. “Wrap the rope around the trunk of a nearby tree. Then”—he paused, dragging in a deep breath—“drop the length to me, but keep enough to hold your end.”

Was he addled? “You cannot climb up alone.”

“It will take a bit longer, but I can do it.” He closed his eyes, reopened them. “As I come up, pull the excess rope that is wrapped around the tree back, keeping the line taut.”

“As simple as that?” she muttered.

“What?”

She shook her head. Linet looked around and found a suitable tree.

Precious time passed. Once he’d secured the rope around himself, she pulled. After several breaks to allow him time to rest, finally, his hand came into view.

Linet sagged with relief.

“Keep the rope taut!”

The man never ceased to amaze her. “If you have energy to be ordering me about, use it to move.”

He grunted.

The hemp slackened; Linet pulled to keep it taut. “You are almost there.”

With a grunt, Seathan crawled forward, then collapsed against the muck, gasping for breath.

No, she refused to let him pass out, neither did she have the strength to haul him up. “I should have known a man who kisses as mundanely as you would not have the staying power,” she called down.

Piercing green eyes flashed open. Scorched her with a wonderful heat. Muscles bunched, pain strained his face, with his eyes locked on hers, he pushed.

Relief punched through her. “A bit more.”

He shoved.

His head came to the top, then his upper torso. He collapsed, his lower body still hanging over the edge of the steep incline.

Linet stumbled forward, slid her arm beneath his shoulder, and half dragged him away from the steep slope.

“Put your arm around my shoulder. We must reach the cave before the knights return.”

Muscles shuddered beneath her hands as she pulled him, and with sheer determination, he pushed himself to his feet.

Step by excruciating step, they made their way to the hideout. She cursed their slow pace, the smear of blood from his wound stating the cost of his efforts.

Once safe inside the cave, she helped him lean against the wall. “Wait.” She hurried to get the blankets, then spread them out nearby. “Lie there.”

Through the pain on his face, he grimaced. “You are good at giving orders.”

“As you,” she returned as she helped him lie down, concerned by his weakening voice. Once she’d made him as comfortable as possible, she stood. “I will be back in a moment.”

“Where are you—”

“I am going to fetch the plantain, which I would have long since returned with had you not been so pigheaded.” She turned away, furious to find tears in her eyes. He’d almost died. She shouldn’t care, should blame his brush with death on his unbending pride, but in the short time since she’d met Seathan, he’d come to mean more to her than was wise. Shaken by the realization, she scanned the woods and hurried away.

The rich wash of sunset streamed into the cave, embracing the stone chamber within its soft glow. Linet shifted to keep her back to the sunlight as she gently wiped the ointment she’d extracted from the plantain over Seathan’s wound.

Hewn muscle rippled beneath her touch, at odds with the deep gash in his left side. At least the injury hadn’t festered. Thank God for that.

His jaw tightened as she carefully smoothed the gel across his tender skin.

“I am almost done,” she said.

He remained quiet.

She hadn’t expected a reply. Since her return from retrieving the herb, he’d remained silent. She wanted to believe his reserve was a result of his pain. But she sensed more fed his decision not to speak.

Neither was he ungrateful.