Rowan's Lady (15 page)

“Me laird,” she told him from the other side of
the tree. “I will be fine. Go, see to yer men.”

“Nay,” Rowan answered, sounding quite determined.

Arline let out a slow breath. “Do you no’ have men
surrounding the camp?”

“Aye, I do.”

“Then I believe I am safe from marauders. Please,
go.”

Arline heard his heavy sigh of frustration
followed by something inaudible.

“Da!” Lily exclaimed. “Ye said a bad word!”

Why she felt some measure of satisfaction knowing
she had frustrated him to the point of cursing, Arline was uncertain. But enjoy
it she did. Whoever it was that needed Rowan called his name a third time.

Arline took her sweet time. Between the man
calling out for Rowan and Lily’s loud protests that she was hungry, Arline felt
confident that soon he’d relent and leave her.

“Da! Ye said a bad word again. Does this mean ye
do no’ get any supper?”

Arline covered her mouth with the hem of her skirt
so that Rowan could not hear her giggle. “This may take some time me laird,”
Arline told him. ’Twasn’t a
complete
lie. What with the way her legs
ached and her side throbbed, it might take some time before she could stand up
again.

Rowan let loose with another frustrated sigh.
“Fine!” he shouted to the tree. “Do no’ leave this spot, me lady. I will take
Lily back to the camp, find out why the bloody hell Thomas keeps yelling for
me, and I’ll be back fer ye. But
stay put!
”

Arline stuck her tongue out at him as she heard
him walk away, rustling through the tall grass. She did not like being ordered
about. People had been ordering her about her entire life. The more she thought
on it, the angrier she became. A flood of memories came crashing all around
her. First her father with his constant,
children should neither be seen nor
heard.
Then Minnie, her maid.
Ladies do no’ ride astride. Ladies do no’
show skin from the neck down.
Then Garrick,
If ye wish to live, ye’ll
follow me orders to the letter.

Would there ever be a time in her life when
people, especially
men
did not feel the need to order her about like a
child? Would there ever be a time in her life when she could simply do as she
pleased without someone telling her she couldn’t? She had reached the ends of
her patience.

“I will
no’
stay put, Rowan Graham!” she
whispered angrily to the tree. In a good deal of pain, frustrated, angry and
tired, she used the tree to keep her balance as she stood. She took a moment to
smooth out her skirts, wiped away an errant tear and began to walk. Away from
the camp.

“I will
no’
be ordered to ‘stay’ or ‘sit’
like a dog!” she told the air as she lifted her skirts to make her way around
some bramble bushes. She continued her tirade as she walked through a dense
thicket of trees, mumbling to herself.

“I’m a woman full grown!” She muttered under her
breath. I’m no’ some ignorant fool who doesna ken up from down!”

A moment later, as she stepped through the trees
and spilled out into another clearing, she found herself staring into the nose
of a rather large horse that stood beside several other large horses. Panic
ensued when she looked up into the eyes of the very large, menacing looking men
sitting atop the horses. Without thinking, she lifted her skirts, spun around,
and ran back the way she had come.

“I’m an idiot!” she scolded herself as she ran
through the woods. “A full-grown, bloody idiot!”

Arline did not take the time to count the number
of men on horseback. It could have been thousands for all she knew. Her
instinct was to run, as fast as she could, back to the camp to warn Rowan and
the others.

Every step and intake of air was a painful
reminder of just how badly Garrick had beaten her. But she could not think of
that now. She had to warn Rowan, had to make sure nothing happened to Lily.

With her heart pounding and face covered in sweat,
she ran as fast as her tired and sore legs would allow. She began to make
bargains with God. If He would get Lily and the others out of this alive, she’d
never run off in anger ever again. If Rowan told her to stay put, that was
exactly what she would do.

She worried over the men Rowan had sent to the
perimeters as lookouts. They must have been killed else Garrick’s men would not
have gotten this close. Arline hadn’t taken the time to look into any of the
faces to see if perchance to she recognized any of them. She had a relative
sense of certainty that the men on horseback belonged to Garrick. Who else
would sneak up on them like this?

With her heart pounding loudly and her head filled
with thoughts of what Garrick was going to do to her, to Rowan and the others,
she was paying very little attention to where she was going. As she ran through
the trees, her feet slipped on a patch of mud. She fought for balance and when
she felt herself slipping, the last thing she could think to do was to scream
as loud as she could for Rowan.

Rowan was more than frustrated by the time he made
his way back to the camp. He handed Lily off to Frederick with orders to feed
her before seeking out Thomas. Rowan intended to ring the fool’s neck for his
constant bellowing.

“What the bloody hell are ye hollerin’ about?”
Rowan shot out as he walked toward the bank of trees where Thomas stood. He
cast a glance over his shoulder toward the tree he had left Lady Arline behind.
He wanted to get back to her, wanted to see that she was fed something other
than porridge.

“Nial McKee and his men be here,” Thomas informed
him. “I thought ye’d want to ken that.”

That was indeed good news. Rowan had expected to
meet them earlier and was quite anxious to learn what had delayed them. But
first, he had to get Lady Arline safely back to the camp.

“Good,” Rowan said to Thomas. “Where be they now?”
Rowan asked.

Thomas’ reply was cut short by Lady Arline’s blood-curdling
scream.

“Damn!” Rowan spat out as he raced toward the
trees where he had left her. He knew he would not find her where he had ordered
her to stay.

The way she had screamed had told him either she
had encountered one of Blackthorn’s men or a bear or something equally
menacing. With his broadsword drawn and fifteen men following fast on his heels
he raced through the woods. Breaking through trees and bushes, jumping over
felled trees, he raced in the direction the screams had come from.

In no time, he broke through the dense overgrowth
and nearly fell down the side of an embankment. A large, torn piece of a
woman’s dress clung to one of the bushes that grew along the top of the
embankment. Rowan grabbed it and began searching the area with his eyes. He
peered over and down the small decline and saw her lying below. For a moment
his heart stopped beating when he saw her lying on her back with blood covering
her chest.

She had not fallen far, mayhap only ten feet.
Thomas, Daniel and Frederick were at his side now and followed his gaze.

Without speaking, Rowan grabbed Frederick’s arm
for balance and slid down the nature-made wall of mud. Roots of bushes grew
randomly through the wall, snagging Rowan’s tunic as he slid down to help Lady
Arline.

By the time he reached her he was covered in mud
and sweat. He rushed to her side, laid his broadsword at his feet as he knelt
beside her.

Her bodice was covered in blood. Rowan took only a
moment to glance around looking for any sign of Garrick Blackthorn’s men. He
called up to his men. “She’s bleeding! I think she’s been stabbed! Look about
fer Blackthorn or his men!”

He turned back to Lady Arline who was gasping for
breath. “Wheesht, lass,” he told her as he removed his dirk from his boot. “I
have to check yer wound,” he told her as she lay there fighting for breath. Her
eyes were wide with what could only be described as abject fear. She was trying
to speak. “Wheesht, lass! Was it Blackthorn’s men?” His words were rushed and
filled with worry. She shook her head and muttered “Nay.”

“We’ll find the bloody bastard! I swear it!” Rowan
whispered harshly. He would kill whoever had hurt this brave woman, the woman
who had protected his daughter.

He took the dirk and made a small cut at the top
of the bodice. He laid the dirk on the ground, took the bodice between this
hands and ripped it to her waist.

Blood was smeared along her neck and chemise. He
hoped her injuries were not too grievous. Quietly, he began to pray that she
would live, for a multitude of reasons. The most important being he was rapidly
developing feelings for her. The most cowardly was the fact that he did not
want to have to explain to Lily that her sweet angel had been killed.

He took the top of her chemise in both hands and
was about to rip it to get a better look at Lady Arline’s wounds. Suddenly, she
grabbed his wrist. “Nay!” she squeaked out. Her chest heaved up and down as she
struggled for air.

“But, lass, I must see how badly ye are injured!”
Rowan told her. He thought it a damned odd time for her to be worried over her
reputation or to be modest. The woman had been stabbed for the sake of Christ!
He tried to tear the bodice again when her other hand flew up and grabbed his
other wrist.

“Ber--” she closed her eyes, swallowed, and tried
again. “Ber-ries!” she managed to work the word out.

“A bear did this?” Rowan asked with wide eyes. He
began scanned the area, looking for a bear.

“Nay,” she breathed out. “Berries!”

Rowan looked down at her, confusion written in the
hard lines of his furrowed brow. “Berries?” he asked, uncertain what she meant.

Arline nodded her head and tried to regain control
of her breathing. Her face was red with humiliation. The wind had been knocked
out of her when she fell. She had come close to having a heart seizure when she
felt herself falling.

“What are ye talkin’ about lass?” Rowan asked. Had
she hit her head as well?

“I slipped. Berries. Up there. On dress. Not
blood,” Arline told him between breaths of air.

Rowan looked at her dress, bodice, and neck. He
glanced up at the side of the embankment. Berry bushes. Several of them. ’Twas
then that understanding set in. Arline hadn’t been attacked by Blackthorn men.
She hadn’t been mauled by a bear. She had slipped in the mud, fell, and slid
all the way down, smashing berries along the way.

It wasn’t blood.

It was berry juice.

She wasn’t going to die. At least not from wounds
she had received in her fall. But he was sorely tempted to strangle her long,
slender neck for scaring the bloody hell out of him!

Her skin had heated, turned red from the top of
her head and spread down her neck. She finally opened her eyes to look at him.
It took no great level of intelligence to see that he was angry, what with the
way he was working his jaw back and forth and the vein that throbbed in his
neck. His brown eyes were dark, nearly black. He was taking deep, slow breaths
in through his nostrils.

Even angry, he was still a very handsome man.

She cursed the thought and felt her skin heat
further.

She wished she had broken her neck in the fall
just to save herself from the embarrassment of him ripping her bodice and the
anger she saw in his eyes.

He still held the top of her chemise in his curled
fingers and she still held on to his wrists. She wanted to die in that moment,
as his dark eyes bored into hers.

She suddenly remembered the men on horseback and
fought to find her voice. “There are men, on horseback. Many. ’Twas why I was
runnin’ and fell. I was tryin’ to warn ye, to get Lily away,” the words tumbled
out as she struggled to hold on to what little dignity she had left.

Rowan sighed. “Those be Nial McKee’s men, lass.
Had ye stayed where I told ye, ye wouldn’t have been scared half to death and
runnin’ through the woods!”

It was all simply too much. In less than a day’s
time, she had been beaten, thrown out of her home in the middle of the night,
assaulted, thrown on the back of a horse and carried heaven-only-knew how far
across Scottish lands. He had called her attractive and beautiful and tested
the limits of her patience. Now she felt like a fool. A complete, utter idiot.
He was right. Had she not been so angry at being ordered around like a mongrel
dog, she would not be in this situation, with berry juice smeared all over her,
the bodice of her dress torn beyond repair, and his hot fingers touching her
bare skin.

She couldn’t help herself, couldn’t contain her
frustration or embarrassment any longer. The tears fell, quietly at first but
soon turned to waterfalls, streaming down her dirty face, into her ears, and
down her neck.

He probably hated her. He’d probably leave her
here, alone, to find her own way about. She couldn’t blame him if he did.
Minnie had been right all those times she warned her that her stubbornness
would someday be the death of her.

Her shoulder shook as the tears trickled down her
face. She closed her eyes, let loose her hold on his wrists and turned her head
away. Crying was for foolish young girls, lasses with dreams, hopes and
aspirations. She was none of those things. She was a foolish woman, covered in
bruises, mud, and berry juice.

Her eyes flew open  and she gasped when she felt
warm hands slide under her shoulders and waist. She looked up and into soft
warm eyes staring back at her. He no longer looked angry or upset but she could
not describe what she
did
see looking back at her. She supposed someone
with far more experience than she had would know what a look like that meant.
Realizing her lack of expertise in so many areas made her cry even more.

Rowan lifted her onto his lap and held her. Arline
continued to cry as she clung to him, burying her face in the warmth of his
chest.