Ian's Rose: Book One of The Mackintoshes and McLarens (30 page)

* * *

S
haring a mount
, much to his unruly body’s consternation, Leona and Alec rode up to the Bowie keep. Were the situation and circumstances different, he would have taken great pleasure in having her perched on his lap, watching her breasts bob up and down in time with the horse. Feeling a lecher and cad, he pushed those thoughts aside to focus on the mission at hand.

Before he could stop at the end of the path at the edge of the moat, a voice called out from above. “Who goes there?”

“’Tis me, Alec Bowie. Let me in Seamus!” Alec boomed his reply.

“Who be that with ye?” Seamus called back down.

Alec laughed raucously. “Me company fer the night!”

Laughter broke out along the upper wall. Moments later, they began to lower the drawbridge. Loud and aged, it creaked and groaned.

“Just follow me lead, lass, and all will be well,” he whispered into her ear.

She could only offer a rapid nod for she was too afraid to speak.

Soon, they were traversing over the drawbridge and into the Bowie keep.

Someone came to take hold of his horse. Alec dismounted first then helped Leona down.

“Would ye like me to let Rutger ken ye’re here?” the young man holding the reins asked.

Alec laughed loudly. “Nay, I’d prefer ye did no’. me new friend and I would much prefer no company this night.”

The young man laughed before leading the horse away.

They made their way in through the gate in the second wall with relative ease. Once inside the keep, they realized the gathering room was still alive with men and women enjoying one another’s company and the ale that poured freely. Too into their cups to notice much of anything.

Alec took her hand in his and quietly, they made their way up the dark stairs. Down the torchlit hallway, she clung to his hand with a deathlike grip.

As soon as he closed the door to his bedchamber, he leaned against it and let out a sigh of relief.

“That was easier than I thought,” Leona remarked. She was standing with her back pressed against the wall that stood opposite his bed.

Running a hand across his jaw, he said, “Aye, but the night is far from over.”

* * *

L
eona had never been alone
with a man before, at least not in his bedchamber. Still pressed against the wall, she watched him as he checked the bar on the door. Watched still as he crossed the room and lifted the fur to peer out the window.

“Ye should rest,” he said without turning around.

Rest? Nay, she doubted she’d be able to sleep this night. She was in the proverbial lion’s den, amongst hundreds of Bowies. They were sworn enemies of the Mackintoshes and McLarens. Though she didn’t truly belong to either clan, she still felt a tremendous sense of duty and fealty to them.

Uncertain as to where exactly she should rest — the bed was completely out of the question — she took a seat at the small table that sat in the corner of the room.

“Lass, ye can have the bed,” he told her as if he could read her thoughts.

Furtively, she glanced at the bed then at Alec.

Finally, he turned to face her. “I promised yer laird yer life as well as yer innocence, would be safely guarded.”

Why that bothered her, irritated her no end, she couldn’t rightly say. Deep down, she wished he would at least make the attempt at defiling her. Even something as simple as a kiss. But nay, he just stood there at the window, being a gentleman. Three and twenty years old and she’d never been kissed. Not even a drunken lout had tried.

Mayhap she was exhausted from all the travel. Mayhap she was simply
tired.
Tired of men running in the opposite direction. Tired of being called names by complete strangers and those people who should have known better.

Pushing her ire aside, she threw off her cloak, hung it on a hook by the door, and climbed into the bed. Either way, it simply didn’t matter. There were more important things to worry about at the moment. Such as what would transpire on the following morning, just before dawn broke over the horizon.

Thus far, it appeared as though God were in favor of this devious plan. Hopefully, He would continue to bless them and Rose would soon be back in the loving arms of her husband.

“Are ye warm enough?” Alec asked in a low, hushed tone.

His voice felt as warm as sunlight. She heard his soft footfalls as he walked across the floor, drawing nearer to the bed. Panic slowly crept in as a hundred different scenarios bombarded her mind.

“Aye, I am,” she whispered.

Just when she thought he meant to climb into the bed with her, she felt him drape a fur over her and pull it up over her shoulders. She tensed, holding her breath, wondering what on earth she should say or do.

Quietly, he stepped away. She could hear him building a fire in the hearth, all the while she lay unmoving in the bed. What would her father think, should he ever find out she was alone in a man’s bedchamber? What did it really matter? The only time he cared one whit about her safety or well-being was when it came to men. In truth, she really didn’t think he cared one way or another.

Once Alec was finished with the fire, she heard his light footfalls as he walked back toward the bed. The chair scraped quietly across the floor when he pulled it away from the table. It creaked ever so slightly when he sat down.

“Go to sleep, lass. We’ve a very big day on the morrow.”

She remained mute and as still as a rabbit hiding from a fox. Aye, whatever happened on the morrow would determine her future destiny. ’Twas a rather unsettling feeling.

D
awn had yet
to caress the sky when Leona felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. Startled, she shot up in bed, forgetting for a moment just where she was.

Alec was sitting on the bed next to her, a warm smile on his lips. “Wheest, lass. ’Tis only me. ’Tis time.”

Wiping the sleep from her eyes with her fingertips, she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her heart pounded against her breast.
’Tis time.

Unease settled in like a waterlogged fur. Suppressing the urge to cry, she took slow, steady breaths. Alec placed her slippers on the floor at her feet and helped her to stand.

“’Twill all be over soon, lass. I promise.”

That was what terrified her most. That her whole life would be over soon if they were discovered.

Quietly, she tugged on her slippers, grabbed her cloak from the peg and waited while Alec checked the hallway for any of his brother’s spies.

Once he felt certain ’twas safe to move, he took her hand in his and led the way. Her palms were sweaty and her heart raced rapidly. Deftly, almost silently, they made their way down the hall. Leona did not breathe again until they were safely inside a second chamber.

Rose was fast asleep on her side, covered in heavy furs and blankets. Leona was much relieved to see her friend and went to her at once. Crouching low, she whispered, “Rose, wake up. ’Tis me, Leona.”

Rose grumbled incoherently and pulled the covers more tightly around her neck.

Alec came to them then. Crouching beside Leona, he placed a hand over Rose’s mouth and whispered her name.

Her eyes flew open at once, filled with fear until she saw his face.

“Wheest, Rose,” he whispered. “We’re here to take ye home.”

Confused, her brow furrowed as she gave a nod of understanding. Slowly, Alec withdrew his hand and stood to his full height.

“Rose,” Leona whispered again, her smile bright and beaming.

Stunned, Rose sat up in utter disbelief. “Leona!” she exclaimed.

“Wheest, ladies!” Alec admonished. “We must be verra quiet.”

Leona wrapped her arms around her friend and held her tight. “Och! ’Tis glad and relieved I am at seein’ ye.”

“Why are ye here? How? What is goin’ on?” Rose asked as she pulled away.

Alec helped her to stand and quickly set about explaining their plan. When he finished, she looked up at him and asked, “Are ye both mad?”

“Aye,” Leona and Alec answered in unison.

“Does Ian ken of this plan?”

Still smiling, Leona answered. “Aye, he does. He is no’ far from here. Soon, ye will be with him and returnin’ to McLaren lands.”

“But what of ye?” Rose demanded to know.

“As soon as I have ye safely back with yer husband, I shall return to retrieve Leona.”

Rose shook her head, hopeful the motion would bring some sense to the matter. “What if ye’re caught?”

Leona hugged her once again. “Do no’ worry it, Rose. I will be fine. Please, just do everythin’ Alec says and ye’ll soon be out of here.”

From the look on her face, Rose was not nearly as hopeful as she.

* * *

I
n short order
, Leona removed her gown for Rose to wear. She also gave her the eyepatch and cloak.

“Do no’ worry and do no’ be afraid,” Leona told her. “’Twill all be over verra soon. Trust us.”

Worry was etched on Rose’s face. “I’ll no’ be able to rest until ye are back with us, Leona.”

They shared one last, teary-eyed embrace. “Be gone with ye now, and take care of that bairn,” Leona told her as she bid the two of them goodbye.

As soon as they were out of the room, her own worry bubbled up. Kneeling at the foot of the bed, she prayed fervently for her friend’s safe return to her husband.

* * *

T
heir retreat
from the keep was as easy as their entry. With Rose perched atop his lap, the eyepatch carefully placed, the cloak drawn around to cover her large belly, they were soon out of the keep and on their way to her husband.

Once they were out of eyesight of the keep, Alec kicked his mount into a full gallop. “I be sorry to have to go so fast, but we must get ye to Ian before anyone discovers ye’re missin’.”

“What will happen to Leona should yer brother discover I be gone?” She dreaded learning the answer to that question.

“She will be fine. Dougall is there to watch over her. He will make certain she is unharmed.”

Wiping tears from her eyes, she asked, “And who is there to protect Dougall?”

Alec refused to answer that question.

I
t had been too
risky to build a fire, so Ian and his men hunkered down inside a small forest. While his men kept themselves busy by sharpening their weapons or discussing the different ways they would like to kill Rutger Bowie and Charles McFarland, Ian paced.

Like a wild animal in a cage, every nerve, every muscle was coiled, ready to spring at the slightest provocation.

For the most part, his men left him alone. Occasionally, however, they would offer an encouraging word. “’Twill no’ be long now, Ian, and we’ll have our Rose back.”

Their Rose.
Mackintosh and McLaren alike loved and respected his wife. They thought of her more as a beloved sister than simply their mistress. It did lift his spirits to know how fondly they thought of her.

Dawn broke out over the horizon, painting the sky in lavender and wine. As he stood watching the sun come up, he could not help but wish his wife was there to enjoy it with him. Never again would he take for granted the majesty of a rising sun or the blessing he had in Rose.

His attention was drawn away by the sound of very distant thunder. He scanned the sky, looking for rainclouds, but could not find any. Soon, he caught a glimpse of something in the distance, far to the east. Something glimmered in the morning light.

As soon as he realized ’twas the sun glinting off steel, his stomach turned and his heart all but seized. ’Twas not thunder, but men on horseback. Hundreds of them.

* * *

H
e let
loose with a shrill whistle, an alarm call to his men. Jumping to their feet, they came to see for themselves what had brought forth the alarm. It took only a glimpse to realize hundreds of men were heading their way.

“Has the Bowie come around to attack us from behind?” one of his men asked. All eyes turned then to Gylys, Fenner and Davy.

The three men backed away slowly. “I do no’ ken who those men be,” Kyth said. “It can no’ be the Bowie.”

Three of Ian’s men had swords on the Bowie’s in the blink of an eye. “If ye have played us false,” one of them warned, “we will gut ye before they arrive!”

None of the Bowies made the slightest attempt to either flee or fight. “We have no’ played ye false. If it be the Bowie, ’tis only because somethin’ happened at the keep,” Gylys said, holding his hands in the air.

From the expressions on the three Bowie men standing nervously before them, Ian knew their confusion was as real as his own. “Mayhap yer
leader,
Alec, has played us all false?” he asked, his voice filled with anger.

The Bowies were insulted. “Alec would never play anyone false!” Gylys ground out harshly. “If it be the Bowie, ’tis only because Alec’s plan did no’ work.”

“What do ye want us to do, Ian?” Fergus called out as he watched the army of men fast approaching.

Ian’s mind raced for a plan. “We can no’ go to the west, fer that be Bowie lands,” he said as he headed toward his horse. “Mount up!” he called out. “We shall head north and east and see if we can no’ circle back toward our keep.”

“What about these unholy bastards?” Seamus asked in reference to the three Bowie men.

Ian clenched his jaws together as he stared at the men who could very well have betrayed them. “Go back to yer leader. If what ye say is true, he needs yer help. If what ye say be false?” he said as he grabbed the reins of his horse and mounted. “Then I’ll meet all of ye in hell.”

* * *

A
s everyone scrambled to mount
, the sound of horses grew louder and louder. Nearly all eyes were on the three Bowie men as they carefully watched them take to their own horses.

“I shall keep an eye on them,” Ian told Seamus, “while the rest of ye hie off to the west.”

“Nay!” Fergus protested. “What if they turn back? Ye can no’ fight them all alone.”

Ian pulled his own sword from its sheath. “Then tell me brother and father I died gallantly! Now be gone with ye!”

“We fight with ye, Ian.” Fergus argued again. “We’ll no’ leave ye here to die alone!”

While he admired the man’s loyalty, he knew someone had to get word back to the people left at the keep. “Damn ye, Fergus!” Ian yelled as the sound of approaching horses grew louder. “I need someone to get word to the keep!”

Suddenly, Seamus called out from atop his horse. “Wait!”

Quickly, Ian and the rest of his men spun their horses around.

“It be no’ the Bowies!” Seamus said, sounding much relieved. “Look! That be a Mackintosh banner!”

Squinting his eyes to get a clearer look, Ian stared at the approaching army. His horse snickered and stomped at the ground, gave a great shake of its head. Ian reined the horse in, whispering to quell its nervous anticipation.

There, running in front of the army of men, was the red Mackintosh banner. In the center was the gold emblem of a cat with its claws extended.

Relief washed over him. His shoulders and muscles relaxed. It mattered not how they were here this day of all days; he was mightily glad to see them. Another banner soon came into view, one that belonged to Clan Graham.

“Seamus, come with me,” Ian said. “The rest of ye, keep an eye on the Bowies.”

* * *

I
an and Seamus
rode out to meet the Mackintosh army. Ian soon caught sight of his brother, Frederick, and their long-time friend, Rowan Graham, riding at the front of the pack.

With a much-relieved heart, Ian raced to meet his brother. It had been nearly a year since last he’d seen him. Frederick was sporting an unshaved face and his hair was much longer.

“Ian!” Frederick called out as they drew nearer. Pulling rein, he slid from his horse, as did Ian. Frederick pulled his brother into a firm hug, slapping his back. “’Tis much reassured I am to see ye with yer head still attached to yer shoulders!”

“And ye as well, me brother!”

Rowan dismounted and came to offer the same greeting, pulling Ian in and slapping his back. “It has been far too long, Ian,” he said with a devilish smile. “We really must try to get our clans together at times other than war.”

“I do no’ ken how ye are here this day, but I am verra happy ye are,” Ian said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Frederick stood with his feet spread, his arms crossed over his massive chest, and took a more serious tone. “We left on the first of March, at me wife’s insistence,” Frederick told him. “A week ago, we met the messenger ye were sendin’ to us. We changed course and went to Rowan, who was all too happy to offer his aid.”

Rowan chuckled at Frederick. “Yer lovely wife was fit to be tied, Frederick. I feared had I refused her request, she would have had me head on a pike. And me own lovely wife would have fed me entrails to our pigs.”

Ian could imagine all too well how Aggie had taken the news of Rose’s kidnapping. The image of her angry, threatening to kill anyone involved brought an amused smile to his lips. And Lady Arline? She was never one to turn a blind eye to an injustice. “’Tis glad I am then that ye both married such stubborn women!”

They could do nothing but laugh in agreement.

“And ye?” Rowan asked. “I hear yer wife is just as stubborn as ours.”

Ian’s smile faded at the mention of Rose. “Aye, she is. In truth, knowin’ how stubborn she is has been the one thing to help me survive this ordeal.”

“Mayhap she has already gutted Rutger Bowie and is draggin’ his carcass to us now,” Rowan said in an attempt to lighten Ian’s mood.

Ian could only pray he was right.