Plead Forgiveness (Loyalty Series) (8 page)

Laird Macleod had an Adonis-like appearance with a
chiseled jaw, straight nose, and intense light blue eyes that were rimed a
darker shade. His firm features and profile spoke of ageless strength. A
generous mouth hid even white teeth and contrasted pleasingly with his golden
skin. A wan shaft of midday sun struck his thick, straight hair that was an
array of brown colors. A gentle breeze blew the few of the lighter strands that
escaped the leather strip he used to bind it together at his neck, leaving the
bulk to hang just below his shoulders.

Tavish and Paen shared the same hair color and were
similar in face and form to Gavin, but were not nearly as striking. Edric had
blue, black hair and a distinct scar that sliced through his right brow. Osgood
had bright, fiery red hair, while Nicholas’s locks were so blond, almost white.
And all the men wore their hair long, and tied back with a thin leather strip.

She noticed that they all had different shades of blue
eyes, except for Edric whose eyes were hazel. All were under a score and ten,
and had a few days of hair growth on their granite-like faces. Their colossal
size made her feel small and very vulnerable.

“My men have more important matters to see to than
entertaining ye,” Gavin announced, bringing her out of her stupor. “Ye will
ride yer own horse, but if ye try to escape, I will see yer arse black and blue
for a sennight. Do we understand each other, wench?”

Ella’s eyes widened as she digested his acerbic words,
and then she nodded, indicating that she understood.

It was ludicrous not fear this man, but Ella sensed
that Laird Macleod would not harm her, even though his words suggested
otherwise. What she did fear, however, was her father if he learned of her
presence in Scotland. With great effort, she turned the somber thoughts of her
sire, the man who had banished her years ago, to her current situation.

Needing to put distance between her and the formidable
laird, Ella walked over to Apollo. She mounted without assistance, but with
extreme discomfort. Believing she disguised her pain, that is until she looked
over and saw Osgood’s look of concern.

“Lass, are ye well?”

The burly man’s sweet disposition contrasted greatly
with his fierce appearance. He had been nothing but courteous and respectful to
her from the start.

“Aye, Osgood,” she said with a smile. “Thank you.”

“Finest horse flesh I’ve seen in a long time,” Osgood
stated as he looked over her mount. “He has stamina, speed, and strength which
are qualities we Highlanders look for in our horses. Where did ye acquire him,
if ye dinna mind me asking?”

Taken back by his obvious appreciation for Apollo, she
answered with pride. “Westshire Abbey. We breed some of the finest horses in
all of England. Apollo was actually caught in the wild and sold to the abbey
over a year ago.”

Raising his eyebrows, Osgood asked, “We?”

“Aye, every afternoon for the past five years I’ve
worked at the abbey to help with breeding and training the horses.”

His bellow of laughter drew everyone’s attention, and
instantly made Ella regret being so open.

“Why would Greystone have ye work with fine horse
flesh rather than do what’s norm to ladies, like making soap and tapestries?”

Conscious of the men staring at her, Ella lowered her
head when she responded. “It was decided by Aunt Eleanor, Uncle James and
Abbott Davis that it was the safest place for me. And for allowing this,
Greystone is given many fine horses as payment for my work.”

Her statement did not settle well with Osgood who,
along with Tavish, now rode beside her.

After a moment of silence, Tavish asked, “Why would ye
need a safe place? Safe from who?”

At that moment Ella wished she had been born mute,
especially since this was a topic she avoided like the plague. She had no
desire to discuss her life at Greystone with the men who had kidnapped and were
taking her against her will to Scotland.

Her gaze settled on the distant horizon when she
replied, “It does not matter.”

A few pale streaks of mauve were all that remained of
the sunset when Ella and the Macleod warriors rode into the cloud of pine-
scented forest. Ahead of the group, Gavin spoke privately with Edric and Paen
in regards to his conversation with Abbott Davis.

“Sir James is the illegitimate brother of Lady
Eleanor, and is well-favored by King Henry for his service to the crown when he
fought in the crusades. By order of the king, Sir James commanded Greystone’s
army for the past five years and during that time gained more loyalty from the
men-at-arms than the baron himself. The Abbott believes that King Henry is
eager to find fault with Philip in order to replace him with Sir James.”

“We canna trust the English in this, that much I ken,”
Edric emphatically stated.

“Aye, even the Abbott,” Paen agreed.

“We will nae ken until we reach home in a few days,”
Gavin interjected.

“Ye should still ransom her even if Gabriel has
miraculously returned,” Edric suggested.

“I gave my word that when Gabriel is returned, I will
send her back to England,” Gavin explained as he looked for a safe place to
camp for the night.

“The sooner the better,” Paen spat as he rode up
ahead.

Regardless of what Paen and Edric believed, Gavin
sensed a rare purity about the lass riding a short distance behind with his
other men. He found himself looking over his shoulder frequently throughout the
day, unconsciously drawn to her, and greatly irritated by this odd reaction.

Gavin had noticed that her pace had slowed
considerably throughout the afternoon, which was strange considering her skill
on a horse would rival most of his men. It was more than fatigue, it was as if
all her strength has slowly drained from her body. Her flushed face was
alarming, and on occasion, she winced as though she were in a great deal of
pain. Assuming his rough handling last eve, along with Paen’s earlier this day,
caused her pain, Gavin felt profound guilt.

Edric slowed his mount to ride next to Ella, followed
by his laird.

Staring straight ahead, Edric asked their captive,
“Baron Greystone took ye in eight years ago, aye?”

“Aye.”

Continuing to avert his gaze from hers, he added, “Ye
speak of the man with obvious revulsion.”

“Aye.”

Turning to Gavin, Edric stated, “’Tis typical English
loyalty for ye, dinna ye agree?”

Gavin was about to respond to Edric’s comment, but
halted when he heard Ella’s question.

“What do you mean, typical English loyalty?”

“The English are nae even loyal to each other,” Edric
blatantly replied. “After losing yer parents the baron provided for ye, and ye
repay him with insults. Our hatred for the bastard is justified, but yers is
not. Ye make me proud to be a Scot, English.”

Lifting her chin, Ella stared straight ahead. She
refused to allow his cruel words to hurt or shame her. The ignorance of one man
was not important, she told herself.

After watching the regal way she refused to
acknowledge Edric’s insult, Gavin could not help but admire her dignity and
composure. Most females would have lashed out, infuriated by the direct
affront, but not Ella. She kept silent knowing her lack of response would
infuriate him far more.

And just as he predicted, Edric rode away, angered by
her lack of response. Gavin was now virtually alone with his captive as they
rode in silence for a few moments. From the corner of his eye, he saw her hands
trembling.

Without hesitation, he raised his hand high in the
air, and yelled, “Halt! Let us make camp for the night.”

He choose a small clearing, surrounded by lush green
foliage and cast in the sun’s fading light. Twilight would be upon them soon,
along with the cooler night air. The soothing, continuous sound of a nearby
burn over the rustling of leaves drew his attention.

Gavin dismounted, gave orders to his men, and then
looked over at the young woman. Still mounted on that beast of a horse, she
looked like some ethereal woodlyn fairy with her blonde hair in complete
disarray.

Ella needed to dismount, but feared she’d instantly
crumble to the ground, completely humiliating herself in front of the Highland
warriors. With caution, she turned and swung her leg around and was grateful to
feel strong, warm hands on her sides.

Grabbing hold of her narrow waist, Gavin pulled Ella
off Apollo, and then set her gently on the ground. He learned throughout the
day that she was mighty stubborn, often refusing to wait for him or one of his
men to help her dismount.
Did she really believe we would not even assist
her from her mount?

When he heard her sharp intake of breath, Gavin
thought he might have hurt her. He was usually very cautious to use only a
fraction of his strength with females, but she was such a slight lass and
English too boot.

Annoyed by his unexpected concern, he asked curtly,
“Are ye well?”

“Aye, just a bit tired is all. Would I be allowed to
go to the-”

“Aye,” Gavin began, “goes bathe in the burn before the
men come back. Dinna take over long or I will be forced to come after ye.” Of
course, despite his gruff tone, it would be no hardship to see her wet, naked
body.

Releasing her, he watched as she clutched a saddlebag
to her chest, and then head down the hill towards the burn. He took Apollo’s
reins and walked the stallion over to where Osgood and Tavish waited with the
other horses.

“Apollo, my friend, ye truly are a beautiful
creature,” Osgood said in a cheerful voice, before adding, “Ye master is nae
bad either.”

With a glare, Gavin asked, “So, ye are warming to the
English lass?”

“Anyone who treats their horse the way she does canna
be all bad.”

Despite himself, Gavin grinned as he handed Osgood
Apollo’s reins. The giant always judged a person by the way they treated their
horse. Those who knew little about responsibility and duty owned abused horses.
It was a man’s duty to care for what belonged to him, whether it be kin, land,
sword or horse. A fine horse, such as Apollo, spoke highly of Ella’s character,
at least in Osgood’s opinion.

With Edric and Paen hunting deeper in the woods,
Osgood and Tavish seeing to the horses further down the burn, Gavin and
Nicholas were alone in the small clearing.

After building a fire, Nicholas spread out the
bedrolls, and Gavin quickly noticed an additional pallet. He crossed his arms
over his chest, and then eyed Nicholas, waiting for him to explain.

Seeing his laird’s scowl, Nicholas acknowledged, “Aye,
she sleeps on a pallet this eve, nae tied to a tree.”

Unlike most people, Nicholas never feared speaking his
mind, and Gavin highly valued the blond warrior’s opinion. And he sensed
Nicholas had a strong opinion on the way he treated the young woman thus far.

With his arms still crossed, Gavin lifted his
eyebrows, silently amused that Nicholas had not waited for his permission on
the matter. “I take it ye believe I was overly harsh with our captive.”

“Aye that I do,” Nicholas said as he stood, facing his
laird. “
Lady Ella
dinna deserve to be treated in such a foul manner, and
I think ye agree with me.”

The look on Gavin’s face when his gaze fell upon Ella
was easy for Nicholas to read. Lust mixed with admiration, which could change
to pure rage when he spied his men mistreating her. Gavin may be able to hide
his feeling for Ella from the others, including his own brothers, but Nicholas
was more perceptive than most.

“Aye,” Gavin stated.

As Nicholas added more wood to the fire, he noticed
Gavin’s gaze fixed on the narrow trail to the burn. “Ye care for her, that much
is obvious, at least to me.”

“Nae, I care naught for the hellion. My concern is
solely for my nephew, and she is the means to see that he is returned.”

“Ye still dinna believe her story, despite the fact
that we have been following the same tracks all day. Tracks that verra well
could be from Sir James and Gabriel.”

“As always, I’m grateful for yer subtle guidance,”
Gavin sarcastically replied.

Nicholas laughed, and then said, “Let your instincts
guide ye, nae yer hatred for the English or the worry in yer heart for
Gabriel.”

Gavin heaved a heavy sigh before taking off his
leather brigandine and preparing himself to bathe after Ella. Bare chested, he
began sifting through his saddlebag as he conceded, “The lass will have a
pallet this eve; in truth, she has earned it. I heard nary a complaint from her
all day, yet to look at her, ye would think she was either exhausted beyond
measure or in inexplicable pain.”

“Aye, I picked up on that too. Hopefully, a hot meal
and a warm pallet is all she-” Nicholas stopped when his laird raised a hand
for silence.

Listening intently for a scant moment, Gavin then
unsheathed his sword and moved to where he could see down the hill to the burn.
Ella was nowhere in sight. However, he heard the distinctive sounds of a
snarling beast ripping through fabric.