The Highlander's Heart (19 page)

McNab rubbed his chin and studied Isabelle. “Perhaps there is a way we can help each other. I am going to the Bishop of Glasgow, care to join me?”

“Oh, yes, very much.” Isabelle’s heart soared. Finally someone was going to help her. At least it was a chance. More than what she would get if she stayed here.

“I need to talk to the bishop about intervening in Andrew’s behalf. Perhaps ye could tell him how I helped ye?”

“Yes, I can do that.” Get her to the bishop and Isabelle would swear he was a prince.

McNab nodded, his mouth a tight line. “Let us move quickly. The abbot will no’ be pleased to find ye gone.”

McNab finished saddling his horse and soon they were on their way.

“I have few talents, my lady, but I know these woods, and I know all the short cuts. Our road will be rough tonight, but we will get where we are going fast.”

“Fast is good for me.” Isabelle rode behind him, holding on tight, McNab rode like his life depended on it, down winding paths and across open fields. Finally, in the early dawn the horse was blown and Isabelle wanted nothing more than to stop and rest.

They came to a spot in the road where there were large boulders, one on each side. McNab pushed Isabelle down and hid behind the large rock formation. Isabelle tried to ask what he was doing but a strong hand covered her mouth. This was not right at all. Was she being abducted once again? Truly these men needed to find a better occupation.

Soon a galloping horse approached. The sound grew closer and closer until McNab jumped up in front of the horse and rider, pulling Isabelle with him.

“Halt!” commanded McNab. “Give me my brother and I will return the Lady Tynsdale.”

Isabelle looked up at the rider and gasped.

It was Campbell.

“You lying piece of—” Isabelle’s words stopped short when she felt the sharp prick of a blade at her throat.

Campbell regarded them with cold eyes. His face was expressionless. “Good morn to ye, McNab.”

The world went silent. Even her heart refused to beat.

“I have sent my prisoner on ahead to Innis Chonnel. He is not here,” continued Campbell in no apparent hurry. “I’m afraid I am unable to make such a trade as you suggest.”

“Get Andrew. Now,” demanded McNab. His grasp on her arm slackened and he began to tremble. She doubted he anticipated Andrew would not be with Campbell.

“Nay, I dinna think so. The lady ye hold is more aggravating than any lass has a right to be and has a verra bad habit of finding trouble where’er she goes.” He looked directly at Isabelle when he said this.

Isabelle gasped. Did he not even care that her throat might be sliced at any second? He hardly looked concerned that someone was threatening her life. Well that was enough of that.

Isabelle stomped down hard on McNab’s foot and gave him an elbow under his rib cage. McNab stumbled in surprise and Isabelle broke free. She ran but stumbled on her gown and went down. A loud cry shattered her ears and Campbell charged forward, his sword in hand, his face twisted into something from the gates of hell.

McNab was quick and flew to his mount and galloped away down the road. Campbell rushed back past Isabelle, grabbed the reins of his horse and jumped up even as the horse started to run. He galloped past her in close pursuit of the fleeing McNab.

Isabelle stared at the swirling mist where the two men had galloped away. She put a hand to her chest to see if her heart still beat. With such a fearsome battle cry, she was sure Campbell’s opponents must die of fright before he even reached them.

All around her was a white blanket of fog. It must be close to dawn since the mist had taken on a lighter gray hue, but she could still see nothing. She wondered what she should do now.

“Laird Campbell?” she called into the misty abyss, but received no answer. The air was cold and moist, the chill creeping through her cloak like a bony hand. She shivered, both from the cold and from being left alone in the night on the road.

Isabelle set off down the road in the direction the men had gone, hoping to find Campbell. The longer she walked the more she considered his words. She thought they had become friends, more than friends, perhaps, if fate had allowed it. And yet he had chided her like an errant child. Perhaps it would be better to try to find the Bishop of Glasgow on her own.

Presently, she came to a fork in the road. Isabelle sighed. Where to now? She looked at the road, trying to find tracks, but the muddy road was full of hoof prints going either direction.

“Campbell?” she called again. She folded her arms across her chest. Rather unkind of him to leave her alone in the near dark with no provisions or clue as to her whereabouts. Would he even come back for her?

Doubt and uncertainty crept in her mind. His last words had been intentionally cruel. Perhaps he was angry with her once more and had abandoned her. She could see no more than a few feet before her in the oppressive fog surrounding her, and yet impossible to touch. She had a sudden, sweeping desire to escape the ethereal blanket around her and find someplace more tangible.

She picked the road to her right, hoping it was indeed the right road, and walked along, to where she could not say. She trudged on and hoped for the best. It was simply impossible to have nothing but bad luck. Everyone had ups and downs. It must certainly be her turn for an up moment. Yes, she was certainly due for good luck.

The fog rolled in thicker, making it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of her. She walked through the gray nothingness. The longer she walked, the more she felt as if she was staying in one place. There were no landmarks, nothing to show that she had moved. She was alone in the misty abyss. Could she have stepped into a fairy ring by mistake? Had she been transported into some distant land of nothing? An icy wind blew on the back of her neck, making her shudder.

Isabelle stopped for a moment and shook her head. It was just the dense fog playing tricks on her. She needed to think about something else, something comforting. She continued trudging in an upward direction and considered the words of Mother Enid. It was calming to believe that even if she had no idea where she was, there was one who could see her, who knew who she was, and who cared for her. Isabelle was not convinced Mother Enid was correct, but alone in the mist, she wanted to believe.

Gradually, the mist took on a different sort of feeling. Instead of cold and spooky, it began to feel close and comforting. It was as if the presence of God was in the cloud and the cloud was walking with her, guiding her path. Isabelle felt a peace that was as unfamiliar as it was soothing.

Isabelle walked along for hours, not seeing anything but a few feet of road before her, but was relaxed and at ease. She had been steadily climbing up and as she rounded a bend, the mist took on a rosy hue. A few steps more and bright sunlight broke through the top of the mist. Isabelle blinked at the brightness. She had walked above the clouds. Around her and below her was a puffy, white blanket. Isabelle smiled in delight. She was on top of the world.

Isabelle sat on a large, flat rock to enjoy her accomplishment and to rest. Fatigue of the hard night and the long walk finally seeped into her bones, and she curled up on the rock and fell asleep, a smile still on her face.

***

Campbell raced after McNab with murderous intent. He was going to hack that kidnapping whoreson into bloody pieces. For abducting Cait, for threatening Isabelle, and for the good of society, that bastard needed to die. Campbell followed the man’s desperate ride through the woods with determination, but McNab was wily and quick. Several times he veered out of sight and disappeared into the mist and Campbell had to backtrack to find his trail. Campbell had no doubt in his ability to track McNab, but since he had not been able to catch him in the early sprint, it was going to take some time.

Campbell considered Isabelle alone on the road and wondered what type of mischief she could find. It was a lonely road, rarely traveled, particularly in this fog and this early in the morn. Yet Isabelle had an amazing penchant for making trouble where none should be. Still, Campbell pressed after McNab. He would not let that bastard escape. Never.

Soon, however, it was clear he needed to make a choice. Either he could track McNab and enjoy the infinite pleasure of killing him and hanging his body out for the birds to eat, or he could go back and make sure Isabelle had not come to harm.

With a mouthful of curses, Campbell turned around and headed back to where he had left Isabelle. If she had any sense at all she would have remained there, waiting for his return. He was not at all surprised to find her not where he left her. Indeed, the lass had no sense whatsoever. Campbell dismounted and looked for her tracks. The memory of her being held by McNab, a knife to her throat, flooded back.

Campbell rubbed his forehead in an attempt to dispel the image. It had twisted his insides to see her so. And it should not have been. He had left her safe at the convent. How had she fallen in with McNab? When he found her, he was going to beat some sense into her. Again, for the good of society. He was nothing if not a dutiful servant of the higher good.

Campbell found her tracks and followed them up and into a mountain pass. The early morning mist dissipated, leaving bright sunny skies and a clear view of his surroundings. None of which included the figure of Lady Tynsdale. She had climbed far, and Campbell became concerned that she might have fallen off of the side of the path. The trail narrowed in places and was precarious, with steep falls if one should lose his footing.

Campbell hugged the side of the mountain. Once he looked over the edge to make sure he did not see her broken body. A rush of dizziness staggered him back to the relative safety of the cliff wall. Despite it being a cool morning, he broke into a sweat. Damn, but he hated traveling over the pass. This is why he always chose to go the water route back home.

Campbell continued up the winding path, keeping his eyes focused ahead of him, not daring to look to the side where the void threatened to suck him down. He took a deep breath and gritted his teeth. He would do this. He had to do this. And if Isabelle wasn’t already dead when he found her, he was going to kill her for making him do this.

He held the reins of his horse with a death grip and walked up the path, his right shoulder hugging the side of the cliff. He rounded a bend and found himself close to the top, which meant leaving the safety of having at least one solid wall. He breathed hard and wiped the sweat from his face. He forced his legs to move him forward, up to the top of the mountain pass. He grabbed the halter of the horse and walked close to his beast, feeling better to have at least something in hand.

Moving with slow caution, Campbell reached the peak of the mountain pass. The wind was brisk but the sun was bright. Had he looked, he could have seen around him for miles, but he kept his eyes on the trail ahead. He did not wish to think of how far up he had climbed. The drop if one stepped off the path would be bone-crushingly, brain-splatteringly fatal. Campbell focused on the path before him, hoping it would lead him off of this mountain and down somewhere safe.

A patch of odd color to his left caught his eye—it was Lady Tynsdale! Campbell gasped and froze in his tracks. She lay unconscious on a rocky ledge, balanced precariously on the edge of the cliff. One slight movement and she would fall to her death.

“Isabelle,” he whispered, unable to move.

She moved not. Campbell closed his eyes and bowed his head. He was too late. She was already dead.

Campbell stared at the lifeless body of Isabelle. She was so close to the edge. There was nothing he could do for her now. He considered for a moment just leaving her, but that would be the act of a coward. He straightened his shoulders. He would have to drag the body off the rocks, without falling to his own death. He was loath to step toward the rocky overhang, but he could not leave her body as carrion for the vultures.

He took the reins, wrapped one end around his left hand, and edged toward her, reaching out with his right hand. It was no use, he could not reach. His heart pounded in his ears, his vision became hazy around the edges, but he slowly unwound his left hand. Dropping his lifeline with a shudder, Campbell inched his way toward Isabelle. If he could grab her hand, he could drag her back to the safety of the trail.

Campbell’s boots scuffed across the loose rocks, sending pebbles over the edge of the cliff. Every instinct in his body screamed for him to get off the ledge, but he kept inching forward. He was almost close enough to touch her hand. He reached forward, stretching out to her.

Dirt and pebbles rushed under his feet, rocks ground on each other, making a wrenching sound. The ledge was starting to collapse!

Campbell launched forward, grabbed her hand and flung himself back to the path, scrambling up the loose, falling rocks and debris. He kept his grip on Isabelle; he would not drop her. The large rock she had lain on slid off the ledge and smashed below, taking trees and other boulders with it.

Campbell struggled forward, dragging Isabelle’s body behind him and landed on the solid surface of the trail. Campbell lay with his face in the dirt, breathing in the wondrous, earthy smell of solid ground. His body shook uncontrollably and he gasped for breath.

When his heart slowed down and the blood stopped pounding in his ears, he became aware of another sound. Something like a woman screaming. He opened his eyes and saw Isabelle yelling at him and rubbing the back of her head.

She was alive!

Campbell stood up and hauled her up too. She looked to be in reasonably good shape. Nothing looked broken, and she was not bleeding anywhere that looked life-threatening. Her gown was ripped and she was covered in small cuts and scratches, but those would heal soon enough. He hugged her tight in relief. Finally, her words began to float into his consciousness.

“Let me go, you big oaf! What are you trying to do? Kill me? Go bedevil someone else and leave me alone!”

The shock of his near-fatal fall from the cliff snapped away, and bubbling up in its place was hot, seething anger. Isabelle had caused all this trouble and now she was complaining about him saving her life. Campbell, not generally a man who lost his temper, swore at her in his native tongue, then a bit more in English just to make sure she understood.

Isabelle glared at him with eyes blazing, hands on her hips, flushed and angry as a harpy. Probably because he had just referred to her mother in the most unflattering of terms. He felt a twinge of guilt; going after another person’s mother was beneath him. She brought him to this; it was all her fault.

“Thank you, sir knight, for fulfilling my request to teach me how to swear.” Isabelle’s eyes flashed. “I fully understand your low opinion of me. You need not elaborate further on that account. And you needn’t drag me across the rocks just to show your displeasure.”

“I was no’ dragging ye for my own amusement, I was saving yer life,” Campbell yelled in return.

“Saving me from what? A life-threatening nap?”

“Look!” Campbell pointed to the ledge where she had been sleeping.

Isabelle was quiet for a moment. “The view is lovely,” she said in an awed voice. “I could not see it when I first climbed up here.” She admired the vantage a little longer, then frowned. “What happened to the rock I was sleeping on?”

***

Isabelle glared at the back of Campbell’s head as she followed him down the path. It had been a trying day. Campbell had dragged her down the other side of the mountain, never letting go of her for a moment. When they finally got beneath the tree line he seemed to relax a little, but that just made him vocal.

Campbell had explained in a calm voice that did little to hide his irritation how little he thought of her for running away from the convent, for taking up with the likes of McNab, and for leaving where he left her on the road. He blamed her for letting McNab get away. Worse yet, he had not wanted to hear anything she had to say. Finally, she stopped trying to defend herself and he stopped talking altogether. Whatever connection they had shared now appeared to be irrevocably shattered. The loss of his affection pained Isabelle the most.

Campbell stopped and turned back to her. “The trail is safe enough for us to ride now.”

Isabelle narrowed her eyes to intensify her menacing glare, determined he should not know how much she wanted to cry at his hateful words. If Campbell noticed, he did a good impression of someone who did not care. Isabelle scowled harder at the man, but only succeeded in giving herself a headache. Isabelle gave up and rubbed her forehead.

“Ye done wi’ glaring at me then?” asked Campbell.

“Yes,” replied Isabelle as haughtily as she could manage. “I’ve moved on to visualizing your demise.”

“Ah, I hope it brings ye great amusement.”

“You have no idea.”

“I have some, the way ye’ve been giving me the evil eye,” muttered Campbell.

So he had noticed! Isabelle smiled in triumph. Campbell caught her eye and smiled tentatively in return. Isabelle scowled at him and his smile faded.

“I need to ask for yer pardon, Isabelle. I said some things I regret. I spoke out o’ anger, which is ne’er wise.” Campbell sighed and rubbed his forehead with his hand. “Ye have no idea how I felt… how scared I was seeing ye wi’ McNab’s knife at yer throat. Why, for the love o’ the saints, did ye leave St. Margaret’s wi’ McNab?”

“I overheard the abbot saying he was going to ransom me back to my husband. I needed to escape, and McNab offered to help. I did not know he was the one who abducted Cait. I thought you said you caught the man.”

“Aye, but I doubt he acted alone.”

“How was I to know that?”

“Ye… well… everyone knows no’ to trust a McNab.”

“Yes, thank you ever so much for all your warnings in that regard. Quite helpful.” Isabelle let the sarcasm drip from her voice in a manner that would have won her sharp disapproval from her nurse.

“Why did ye run off after I went after McNab? Ye should o’ stayed where I left ye like a sensible lass.”

“Stay on an unknown road in the dark by myself without having the slightest notion whether you would return? I was trying to follow you at least.”

“Ye took a wrong turn. Why did ye go up through the pass?”

“I came to the fork in the road and guessed.”

“Why no’ follow the tracks?”

“Many tracks were on the ground leading both directions.”

“Can ye no’ tell the difference between old and fresh tracks?”

Isabelle put her hands in the air. “I shall have to inform my tutor that he wasted his time teaching me Latin and philosophy. I should have been learning the science of the hunt.”

It was Campbell’s turn to glare at her. “I thought someone had attacked ye and left ye for dead, lying on that rock like that.”

“I was sleeping,” said Isabelle with indignation. “I did not realize how close to a cliff I was. Why did you drag me off the rock if you thought I was dead?”

“I could no’ leave yer body for the birds.”

Isabelle shuddered. Not a pleasant thought. And yet, it was kind of him to put himself at risk to retrieve her body. Isabelle sighed. She did not wish to give up her anger so easily, especially with how he treated her, and yet he had prevented her from falling to her death.

“Thank you for saving my life,” mumbled Isabelle begrudgingly.

“Will ye forgive my words?”

Isabelle bit her lip to keep it from trembling. “After all we shared, your words were so cruel. I understand you being upset, but I do not understand how, how mean you were to me.”

Campbell avoided her eyes. “I was scared. I dinna like being scared. I was furious at ye for making me feel such fear.”

“Oh.” Isabelle exhaled, and with it drained her anger and hurt. He did not make the confession easily. “I am sorry to scare you,” said Isabelle, though inside she was cheering that her situation had affected him so deeply.

“And I am sorry for my words.”

They stood silently in the forest in the early morning. Birds chirped a merry song, melting away the last of Isabelle’s anger. She wanted to reach out to him, but somehow was unable to bridge the distance.

“We should go,” said Campbell. “I must get back and check to make sure my kin traveled safely home.”

“I need to get to a place where I can ask for sanctuary. McNab had agreed to take me to the Bishop of Glasgow.”

“Now ye ought no’ be trusting any man that comes around promising ye this or that.”

“Certainly not one of those Highlanders,” agreed Isabelle.

Campbell narrowed his eyes. “
Especially
one of those Highlanders.”

“I hear they are barbarians.”

“True every word.”

“Shall I scream and run away?”

“I would only track ye down and drag ye back to my castle by yer hair,” said Campbell with a faint smile.

“Then I suggest we get going,” said Isabelle with a smile. It was good to jest with him again.

“Good,” said Campbell. “To be frank I have little time for a merry chase today.”

“Only, I must know this.” Isabelle’s smile faded. “Will you help me to claim sanctuary with the Church or will you give me back in ransom to my husband?”

Campbell paused a moment and took a great breath, letting it out slowly. “I ne’er thought I’d step between a man and his wife, but I’ll help ye. At least I can see ye safe to Glasgow after I settle some matters at home.”

“Thank you! Oh, thank you so much. You are the only one I can trust.” Isabelle threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him in a tight embrace. “Thank you. Thank you on behalf of myself and my people.”

“Damn it, Isabelle,” cursed Campbell. “’Twas hard enough to say good-bye to ye the first time, now I am going to have to do it again.” Campbell pressed her close and claimed her mouth with his.

Isabelle was momentarily shocked by the suddenness of his kiss. He was not slow or gentle, no, this time she feared he might devour her. Her body responded with a powerful rush of pure, animal lust. Memories of their time together in the inn rushed back, and she wanted more. And she wanted it now.

Emboldened by his kiss, Isabelle ran one hand through his hair, pressing his face closer to hers, as if such a thing were possible. With the other she cupped his backside.

Campbell growled in response, kissing along her neckline and pulling down the rough fabric to kiss some more. Isabelle gasped and arched toward him, offering herself to him fully. Her knees gave way and she would have fallen had he not caught her.

Campbell held her close and panted for breath. “This canna be right… Whatever am I to do wi’ ye?”

It felt mighty right to Isabelle, but her head was spinning too fast for intelligible speech.

“I need to get back to Innis Chonnel. I canna tarry, no matter how much… how desperately I would rather stay.”

Isabelle nodded and turned away to straighten her gown.

“I’d like to get back inside the castle walls before dark. Wolves, ye ken.”

“Wolves?” Isabelle eyes snapped to his. “I am glad I did not know about that when I was creeping through the forest trying to escape the castle.”

Campbell shook his head and looked to the heavens. “Ask Mairi to give ye the lecture on wolves. Ye require so much scolding, I have none left for ye.”

Campbell swung himself into the saddle and reached down to pull her up behind him. She held on tight as he spurred the horse to a gallop. Despite her circumstances, she felt she was back where she belonged.

His kiss had claimed her. Whether it would be for good or ill, she did not know, but she would be forever his.