J. Lee Coulter (3 page)

It was near gloaming by the time they had rounded up the mounts. Seamus began to fidget uneasily as he studied the herd keenly.

“Donald?”

“Aye.”

“What be the number of mounts we brought here?”

He glanced up, curious at the question.

“Thirty…counting our own. Why do ye ask?”

“All of them be prime stock…are they nae?”

“Aye.”
Pointing at the herd he asked, “Then whose mounts are those?”

Donald’s eyes darted in the direction he was pointing and gasped in alarm. There stood ten…no…eleven sway-back nags! Doing a quick head count he found that they were two horses short and one of the missing was Clyde’s favorite!

“Bloody hell!”

“He will kill us!” Seamus wailed in despair
.

“Quiet man and let me think!” With his neck on the line, it did not take long for Donald to find a solution. Stiffening his spine, he walked determinedly toward the herd. “Help me move these nags ta the center of the herd, Seamus, and be quick about it! Our relief guards will be here soon.”

Moving swiftly, they soon had the beasts camouflaged sufficiently for their escape.

“Ye ken that they will see the animals eventually.”

“Oh aye. But this way they can nae say it was on
our
watch.” He grinned inwardly at his cleverness. It was a good plan.

Chuckling, Seamus relaxed.
He was glad that his companion was so quick-witted. Lord knows…he was not.

Chapter Four

It was getting light out when Conan reluctantly called for a rest. They had made good time in their escape and it appeared that an alarm had not been sounded. He and his men were exhausted after riding all the previous day and night, and they still had a full day’s ride before them.

He glanced down at his captive riding before him. She had been still during the entire ride and he would have feared that she was dead if he had not felt her breathing beneath his practically numb arm wrapped about her ribs. She groaned in protest as he helped her down from his mount, steadying her till she could stand on her own.

It seems that it be time ta meet me bride. At least she is nae obese like her faither. There be nae sense in keeping her covered and gagged now, so I may as well get this over with.
Taking a deep breath to fortify himself for the worst, Conan unbound her then moved behind her as he threw off the tartan to release the gag. His fingers stilled as he heard several of his men gasp.

He closed his eyes tight
as regrets flew through his mind.
She must be horrid ta claim such a response from me men! What have I done?
His stomach churned for a moment before he reclaimed control. Slowly…very slowly, he opened his eyes to gaze upon his bride. His head spun… shocked at the sight before him.

Finding his voice, he queried, “Ye be Kyla Ramsey?”

She glanced nervously about as his men drew closer, taking a step nearer her captor for protection.

“Aye,” she barely breathed in a whisper.

“Ye be certain?”

Kyla glanced up in annoyance.

“I should think I would ken me own name! If ye took me by mistake then I would be happy ta take a mount and return home.”

“But ye are nae ugly!”
He blurted out.

She gasped! “I am sorry ta disappoint ye! If I had kenned ye wished for an unattractive lass…I would have had me maid sleep in me bed last eve! Oh…wait…I did nae ken ye were coming
, did I?”

Conan shook his head
, a pleased grin crossing his face as he peered at his bride-to-be. Stunning, ravishing, exotic…these were all words he would have used to describe her and still they did not do her beauty justice. From her violet eyes shaded by long black lashes set in an oval face, to her glossy ebony hair slapping the backs of her knees…he could find no flaws. She was beyond beautiful!

“Nay, lass. Ye are mistaken. I am for certain
nae
disappointed…just surprised! I thought ye resembled your faither.”

“Whoever told ye that?”

Conan’s eyes darted to Jamie briefly. “It is of nae import,” he growled.

Kyla glanced around until she spotted some thick brush growing nearby. Making her way toward it she felt an iron grip on her arm within the distance of three steps.

“Where do ye think ye are going?”

She gave him a withering look.

“I am in dire need of some privacy!” Blushing with embarrassment she turned back toward the woods only to be halted again.

“Hold a moment, lass! I will accompany ye.”

Wide-eyed she sputtered, “Oh nay…ye will nae!”

“Aye, I will! I have gone ta too much trouble ta lose ye now. I vow I will only stay close enough ta hear your voice.”

“Wonderful,” she muttered as she hurried off to see to her needs with Conan not far behind. She hummed loudly enough for him to hear as she relieved herself, then returned to the camp. Wrapping the tartan more snugly about her, Kyla assessed the situation she found herself in.

Abducted by strangers, she had no idea where she was or what direction to take if she managed to escape. She wore nothing but a night rail and a plaid, plus she had no food or water
…and those were the good points! On the worse side was the fact that her abductor was devilishly handsome, somewhat charming and she found herself attracted to him. No…this was not good at all!

Conan had been keeping an eye on her from across the camp as he unpacked some things from his mount. They were only stopping long enough to eat and, perhaps, grab an hour’s sleep. Finishing his task, he approached her with his bundle.

“There be a gown in there for ye…and a cloak. Go cover yourself, then ye may eat afore we continue on.”

She noted his annoyed tone of voice as she quickly retrieved the bundle
and scurried off. To her surprise, the gown was lovely and nearly fit her supple form. It was a bit too long and the bodice was tight but she savored how the green velvet clung to her body. Even the matching slippers and stockings fit nicely.

Returning to his side, Kyla sat and took the proffered food. Conan arched his brow as he watched her eat. He was not sure how to proceed. Before, assuming that she was unattractive, he thought she would welcome the nuptials. But now…? She must have many suitors. How was he to convince her to wed with him? He grinned.

“Happy birthday, lass.”

Her mouth fell open…surpris
ed.

“How do ye ken that this be me birthday?”

His blue-green eyes twinkled as he answered.

“A heavenly spirit told me. She be the one who sent me ta retrieve ye.”

“Ye are mad!”

“That is what I told him,” Jamie chimed in.

Her eyes darted betwixt them.

“Tis truth! I was told ta give ye myself as your birthday gift. Ye can nae refuse.”

“Ye mean ta wed me?”

“Aye! The spirit told me I must. I can nae deny her. Twould be a sin!”

“Ye
are
mad! Why would I wed ye? Why I do nae even ken who ye be!”

Conan leapt to his feet and bowed low.

“Conan McEwen, Laird of Clan McEwen, and your betrothed…at your service, m’lady.”

McEwen! Kyla had heard her clansmen speaking of him. They actually admired him…not like her father. Few of the men cared for his cruel ways. But if the McEwen was so forthright…why would he abduct her…unless he was speaking true?

Conan watched as her expressions changed with each thought. He hoped that she believed him. It was not exactly a lie after all…just stretching the truth a wee bit.

“Why do ye wish ta wed me? Faither has nae spoken of ye.”

“I have nae met your faither. The spirit told me ta fetch ye. She said your da would approve of nae man ta wed with ye.” With a wily glance, he added, “Have ye had many suitors? I would think ye already wedded with weans at your age.”

Her spine stiffened at the remark.
How dare he! Faither was simply awaiting me pleasure…was nae he?
Kyla frowned as thoughts of eligible men that passed through raced through her mind. There had been a few these past two years but the men always made a hasty retreat. And she
had
been wanting a husband of her own.
I be so auld now that nary a man would want me! Mayhap I
should
wed him. It would serve Faither right for keeping me locked away! This laird
is
pleasing ta the eye.
She sighed dreamily.
I have heard good reports of him, as well. I could do worse if left up ta Da.

“Very well…I will wed ye…but do nae expect m
e faither ta give ye me dowry. He will
nae
be pleased!”

Conan was stunned! He had not expected her to capitulate so easily. He still had a list of reasons waiting on the sideline with which to plead his cause. He swiftly rearranged his thinking as a pleased grin spread over his face. Taking her by the hand, he plucked Kyla from her sitting position and hurried over to one of his clansmen.

“Faither Grant…she has agreed! Ye may begin the ceremony.”

“Ye brought your priest with ye?”

“Aye.”

“But…but…I thought—
”

“Ye thought we would wait till Laird Ramsey should arrive?” He shook his auburn head slowly. “Nay, lass. Twould nae be wise ta delay now that the decision is made. I must have the law on me side…if he happens upon us.”

She peered intently into his sea-green pools searching for any guile on his part. Appreciating the wisdom of his words she acquiesced.

Satisfied, Conan turned his attention back to the priest. “Ye may proceed, Faither.”

Kyla’s body trembled as she repeated her vows to this stranger. What if she was making a terrible mistake? Before her mind could answer the question the cleric announced them wed.

Her new husband took her into his arms, giving her a tentative feather-light kiss of peace. Both were startled at the jolt of electricity that struck them. Their eyes met in surprise at the sensation as his men offered well-wishes.

Conan stepped back quickly.
Feelings for the lass was nae part of the bargain! What jest have ye played me for wraith?
All he received was silence. Clearing his throat, he ordered his men to mount up. They had delayed long enough.

Iona’s haunting cackle was heard throughout the Ramsey keep as Clyde roared in frustration. She had not heard Conan’
s question, opting instead to remain behind savoring Clyde’s pain at the loss of his desire.

Kyla is safe now. Her perverted da can never get his hands on her…ever! Conan would kill him before that ever happened!
Sighing with pleasure, she stretched out on the window ledge to absorb her husband’s anger. It was like a balm to her tortured soul.

“Where is Kyla?” he roared at the maid trembling on her knees before him.

“I ken nae, m’laird. I saw her ta bed last eve with a head pain. This morn she be gone. Tis all I ken,” she squeaked tearfully.

Clyde’s goblet crashed against the wall, showering the maid in ale.

“Find her!”

The terrified lass scurried from the chamber. Iona scowled as she glared at the laird. She had forgotten how cruel he was to his subjects when he was displeased. It was an oversight that she would have to bear.