Surrender (30 page)

'Twas lovely to have the time to herself. She
used the new buckets in the lean-to's room to gather the food.
After washing her find, she took the buckets, returned to the
abandoned garden and used a spade from the tools inside the room.
For what she had in mind, everything worked perfectly. She set the
buckets behind trees near the pool. They would not be visible but
would be close to hand.

"Why are ye following me around Squat?"

The dog looked up at her, perked his ear
straighter and sniffed at the buckets. When he looked back up, his
brows drew together and reminded her of a grumpy old man. His eyes
demanded answers, too.

She imagined he asked, "Why did you pick
those scrawny things? Now why are you putting the same dirt into
the empty buckets?"

"Dinna give me such accusing looks, ye little
cur. Ye just don't understand what I'm planning. Besides, ye didna
help me when his
High and Mighty
convinced me a mudpack on
my face was a good thing."

She sighed loud enough to make him lower his
ear. "I suppose it's all right if ye disapprove—ye cannot tell
Graemme what I have in store for him."

When the sky darkened, she already had a
large pot of soup on to cook. Lightning began striking. Heavy
clouds filled with rain opened up. She closed the shutters, wrapped
herself in a blanket and sat cozy and warm in the middle of the
furs. Squat must have forgiven her, for he curled up on her
lap.

Elyne enjoyed her day, but she anticipated
her triumph when Graemme arrived, soaked and without anything to
show for his day of hunting.

Graemme had tramped near to the top of the
tall hill behind the lodge. No matter where he looked, wildlife
seemed to have fled.

"The blasted creatures are hiding from me,"
he grumbled.

Standing still for what seemed ages, he
waited for game to venture out of hiding. When they didn't, he
became fanciful and wondered if some fox had carried the news a
hunter was on the prowl!

He sighed and sat with his back against a
tree while he nibbled on a dry oatcake and thought of his day.
Afore dawn, Elyne slept so deeply she hadn't even moved when he
untied the knot at her ankle. He'd had a chance to study her lovely
legs. He didn't regret taking advantage of the moment. His only
regret was he couldn't strip off the blankets and gaze at her
lovely body.

Of course, if he had, all thought of hunting
would have flown out the window as fast as she was able to think up
things to bedevil him.

He leapt to his feet and settled his bow and
arrows across his back. He'd look for game until he became so tired
he had to return. But he didn't want to return empty handed. He'd
never see the end of her
I told you so
looks she was so
good at giving.

What happened to the sun? It had blazed
overhead when he sat to rest. He looked up to see clouds scurried
across the sky, chased by heavy sheets of rain in the distance. He
heard it coming afore he spied it.

He shouted and struck his boot into the
ground until he dug up a patch of grass.

"Blast ye, Lucifer! Ye're the one
responsible, ye wart-covered, rat eating spoiler of all things! Why
could ye not wait until I had a string of grouse hanging from my
belt?"

Growling and kicking, mud flew through the
air.

He wanted to bang his head on the nearest
tree trunk for being so stubborn he'd refused to bring a cloak with
him. It didn't take long for the downpour to soak him to his skin.
There was no way out but to go back empty-handed and face Elyne's
mockery.

Halfway down the hill, the rain stopped. He
wished it had not. After falling and sliding in mud, he couldn't go
inside to get warm until he washed off in the pool.

Squat barked to warn Elyne someone
approached. She peeked out the door and watched as a very
bedraggled Graemme looked around him and walked over to the pool.
So, he was going to clean himself up afore she knew what a bad day
he'd had.

He should save himself the trouble.

Leaving Squat inside, she slid out of the
barely opened door and eased it shut. If there was worth one thing
in training to be a lady, it was being able to glide across any
floor or earth without making a sound.

As he kneeled at the edge of the pool and
splashed cold water over his face and head, she retrieved the two
buckets behind a tree. So intent on grumbling to himself, he didn't
even notice her.

Elyne upended one bucket of mud on top of his
head. Quick as a flash, she placed her foot firmly on his exposed
arse and shoved him into the water. When his head bobbed up, he
didn't have time to yell before she threw the contents of the
second bucket into his face.

"Try a mud pack, Sir Graemme. It will do
wonders for yer scars. It may even add an attractive color to yer
skin!"

He let out a howl of rage. Her heart surged
so hard it bounced against her ribs. He sounded like an enraged
wild animal about to kill his prey.

He ducked his head beneath the water and
shook it like a shaggy hound. Powerful arms and legs beat the water
and brought him close to where she stood. Mud streaked down through
hair that near covered his face and shoulders. His furious black
gaze looked as if lightning flashed from it. She was unable to look
away. Fear held her a prisoner.

What had once been sensuous lips now thinned
to a cruel line. A snarl rumbled from his chest as his lips curled,
baring his teeth as though he was ready to rend her flesh from her
bones. He started to push up with his muscled arms. Terrified at
what she had unleashed, she placed her foot on his head and shoved
him back under the water.

He made a quick grab for her ankle. Fast as a
deer, she drew it back and turned to run. She grabbed her skirts in
her hands.

Where to go? How to hide?

He would break down the door to the lodge
easily enough with the axe in the lean-to.

If she was fleet, she could find a place in
the woods! Mayhap a cave. She would head to the left where the
brush was most dense.

Holding her skirts above her knees, she ran
as fast as she could.

Footsteps pounded behind her.

She dared not take the time to look.

Fool! She did.

It scared her so much she sprinted in even
greater strides.

"Elyne. I can run all day." His words came
through a tight jaw, more growled than spoken.

"Ye will tire afore I do," he taunted. "In
fact, I will stop to give ye a better start. I will give ye to the
count of five."

The sound of his footsteps silenced. Quickly,
she glanced back again. On a boulder, he didn't stand upright but
crouched, head slightly forward. Fists on his knees, his fingers
clenching and unclenching.

The picture of a wolf ready to spring flashed
through her mind.

"By the count of ten, I will have ye in my
hands. Ye had best run like ye never ran afore!"

"One!" His voice was soft, silky.

She gasped and leapt forward.

"Two!"

She kept running. When he came to 'Five', the
air rasped through her throat. She didn't think she could run so
fast, but when she heard his footfalls begin again, she near flew
through the air. He kept counting aloud.

"Six!"

"Seven!"

Whatever possessed her to taunt this man's
pride? She should know from the men in her own family, pride was
all a man cared about!

"Eight!"

His voice near sounded in her ear!

"Nine!"

Ack! He was right behind her!

Was he going to kill her? Pray God, not. Beat
her? She didn't doubt it.

She ran like a rabbit chased by an eagle.

"Ten!"

Elyne flew through the air with such speed
she believed an eagle had taken her ankles in its talons. The
ground quickly receded. Upside down, she rose towards the treetops.
She screamed louder than she'd ever screamed afore.

Several times, she rose and fell, each time
less than the other. Finally, she swung slowly. Her skirts hung
down over her arms.

Cold rain fell on her bare legs and nether
parts as she fought her kirtle and smock.

Graemme grabbed the hems of her clothing and
hauled them away from her face. He bent slightly to look into her
eyes.

His voice turned gentle as a kitten's
purr.

His eyes belied the tone.

Menacing.

"Ye should have listened. I told ye at
ten
ye would be in my hands. I neglected to add
helpless
. But then, ye should have known ye would be."

Elyne was too dizzy to speak. Nay, 'twas a
lie. Too frightened to speak!

She realized how she came to be hanging arse
over head.

Graemme had set snares to catch her in case
she ever tried to escape from the lodge and run away.

She was embarrassed and angry because she
hung upside down—exposed to his eyes.

Embarrassment was futile.

Anger was good.

Graemme could not believe any woman could get
away with what Elyne had done. She had taken him by surprise. Had
she been a thief or a soldier running from his lord, he would have
had a sword through his back.

"Well, now. I have learned much from today.
Ye can walk without making the sound of a single footstep."

He dropped her clothing over her face again.
His hands caressed her nether cheeks then his fingers dug into her
flesh as he twirled her in circles.

Elyne squealed like he'd pricked her flesh
with the tip of his knife.

"Stop, ye barbarian! Cut me down!"

"Oh? Ye want something of me, my sweet,
obedient bride?"

"Ye heard me, cur! Cut me down!"

"Hmm. I dinna think so. When ye yell and give
orders, yer face hardens and becomes quite unattractive. I have a
much lovelier view of ye the way ye are."

She'd stopped spinning and was swaying gently
back and forth. He ran his hands from her ankles down to the
joining of her legs.

"Stop it, lout!"

"From barbarian to cur to lout all in just a
few breaths! Ye astound me with yer knowledge of my character."

Elyne tried to swat out at his legs, but her
skirts were in the way. All it accomplished was to make her jerk
around.

"Ah! Thank ye. What a tempting view." His
fingers raked through the auburn curls guarding her sex.

"Cut me down, ye miserable piece of goat
shite!"

She shrieked, loud and piercing, when he
tweaked her tempting curls.

"I thought I requested ye find some less, um,
bad-tempered names for me? I dinna think goat shite is a good name.
My father might take offense at his daughter-by-law calling his son
such."

"My father will take more of an offense when
I tell him how ye hung me like a pig ready for slaughter!"

Her lovely, exposed body slowly swayed back
and forth. His view of her from every angle tempted him. Suddenly,
he roared and shook his leg. Why, a woodland creature had attacked
him!

He'd been so fascinated with her gleaming
flesh he hadn't noted she'd gathered her skirts away from her face.
She'd held them with one hand, grabbed his right leg with the other
and bit his nekid thigh as hard as she could!

Reaching down, he seized her jaw in his steel
grip and pressed.

"Open yer mouth, ye little witch!"

She didn't.

He straightened and swatted her bare behind
with such force the loud crack echoed through the forest. Her flesh
started to turn red as she opened her mouth and wailed loud as a
harlot caught with her hands in her lord's silver coffers.

"Ye want down? Then down ye'll come."

He reached up and, with one swipe of his
knife, cut her loose. He'd known he'd need it when he saw the
direction she'd taken to escape.

Too late, Elyne saw the large puddle beneath
her. She put out her hands to cushion her fall, but she need not
have. With one arm around her, he lowered her into the mud. Turning
her like a cook using a spoon to scrape off the sides of a cooking
pot, he covered her with mud from head to toes.

When he finally released her, she sputtered
and wiped at her face. It didn't help. Her hands were just as
filthy. She didn't say a word. Just sat there in the rank mud and
looked up at him.

She wanted to cry and wail.

But she wouldna!

Before he saw her shed a single tear because
of him, she'd turn into a goat's arse!

Graemme stood, legs spread and hands on hips,
as he stonily stared down at Elyne. He recognized her inward
struggle to hide her humiliation and hurt, her determination not to
cry though her eyes were moist with unshed tears.

If she gritted her teeth any harder, they
would surely crack. He suspected if she uttered a single word, she
would break out in sobs.

Graemme's chest ached when he saw her
struggle to be as hardened as any warrior.

Her eyes were the same color as the dark
brown mud covering her, but they reflected how hard she tried to
keep her composure. Their expression shamed him.

"Come."

His voice was soft as he bent and scooped her
out of the puddle into his arms. Elyne's body was stiff and
unyielding. 'Twas probable she feared the unknown. Would he beat
her? Her father would surely have done so. How could he tell her he
never would, when he himself didn't know how far he would go when
she angered him? He grimaced remembering how his hand seemed to
have a life of its own when it flashed out and smacked her nether
cheek.

He faced a lifetime of yearning for
happiness, which was never to be.

Neither spoke as he carried her out of the
woods and up to the edge of the pool. He hesitated about standing
her there while he removed her clothing. He didn't want to tempt
her to further rebel and run again.

"Yer clothes can stand a little rinsing."