The Highlander's Reward (17 page)

Could it be true? Was it possible that Ina had made up those horrid lies? Why hadn’t Magnus told her about the woman in the first place
? That he’d kept her hidden pointed toward a guilty conscience.

She bit her lip and trudged along the trail in the forest
. He wasn’t the only one who’d kept secrets about a betrothal. But hers was for the sake of her safety, her very life. If he’d found out she was to marry an English noble—one whom he’d fought against at Stirling Bridge—she’d be lying in a shallow grave close to the battle grounds. What could his excuse have been? Other than wanting to keep his incredulous behavior hidden.

But even as a myriad of angry thoughts passed through her mind, so did Magnus’ soft gaze, memories of his gentle touch, his encouragement of her interest in sword play, his need to protect her. Would a man do all of that if he intended to abandon her, trick her?

Arbella could not figure it out. She wasn’t experienced enough to have known anyone in a similar situation. How she wished Glenda was there. As much as the woman’s advice was often a bit mad, at least she could offer a measure of comfort, an ear for Arbella to lament to.

She quickened her pace over the leaf strewn forest floor, lifting her skirts to avoid getting caught on fallen branches
and jutting tree roots. The ground grew steeper and steeper and she had to lean forward to keep her balance. Now that she was climbing, she felt that she was getting somewhere. About an hour later, her calves and thighs screamed for her to stop. Sweat covered every inch of her body, and her hair fell in ungraceful fringes around her face. She swiped at her brow, and stopped for breath. Hands on her hips, she stretched her back and gazed out of the forest toward the road. She finally felt like she recognized the area she stood in. Her feet shouted for relief, for her to sit and take a break. Her throat was parched. Stepping out into the road, she gazed over the landscape, seeing the towers of Dunrobin peeking over the trees in the valley below.

A smile spread over her lips. She was getting somewhere. They’d stopped to gaze down at this ridge on the way from Stirling.
Magnus’ body had been warm, sturdy against hers. Her legs hadn’t shaken as they did now.

She pulled the water skin from around her back and took a long gulp. Gazing down at the picturesque view of Dunrobin she wondered if leaving had been a bad idea.

She couldn’t question her decision now, even if she didn’t know these hills and because of her English descent was considered an enemy to the people of Scotland. She could protect herself with her dirk if need be. Or at least attempt to.

Pink and orange lines finely painted through the scattered white clouds. Darkness would fall soon. Night would be cold. She should seek out a shelter now.

Arbella ducked back into the woods, when she was shoved roughly to the ground.

An evil laugh rang out above her.
Panic seized her for a moment before a rush of survival instincts made her move. She rolled to the side, spitting out leaves in time to see two rough-looking Highlanders looming above her.

“What have we here?” one said with a grin, his red cheeks bunching.

“Where did ye come from?” asked the other, taller man.

Arbella narrowed her eyes but refused to speak. To do so would give away that she was English and these two men were already looking for a reason to dispatch her.

Their plaid was familiar, but not one she’d seen on any of the Sutherland men. She couldn’t place it. There’d been plenty of Scotsmen at Stirling, could be any number of clan colors.

“Are ye mute then?” Red cheeks asked.

She continued to stare at them, using her peripheral vision to see if there were any others. They appeared quite alone.

Tall Man took a skin from his side and guzzled, before belching loudly and bending down to blow his whiskey sodden breath into her face. “Ye wear the Sutherland colors.” He plucked at the cloak she’d wrapped around her shoulders.

Red Cheeks grabbed Tall Man and hauled him up. “Our mistress is none too happy with the Sutherlands now.”

Ina. Now she recalled where she’d seen the colors before. Ina had a cloak in the same pattern.

Arbella had so many questions, she could not put voice to. What were the men doing here? Had Ina made good on her threats and they were sent to exact revenge? But there were only two, and one was deep in his cups, how would they be a threat to Magnus and his entire clan?

P
erhaps that wasn’t the plan. Maybe they were sent to give a warning. To find some unsuspecting person to lay harm to, and here she was, bait served.

She inched her fingers toward the long dagger at her side, partially hidden by her cloak. If she could just get a hold of it, she could offer up a threat of her own. But being on her back put her at a disadvantage. She pushed up to her elbows.

“Ah-ah, no, I dinna think so,” Red Cheeks said. “Dinna stand.”

She ignored him and swiftly stood
. Icy fear gripped her but she refused to give in to its crippling demands. She
had
to be victorious in this fight for her life. Or at least give it a shot. Her dagger burned against her hip and she itched to yank it out and wave it in the man’s face, but she did not. She had to make him think she was scared, not that she posed a threat. Mustering her courage, she quivered her lower lip and looked around anxiously, hoping this would throw him off.

“Ye got a friend around?” Tall Man asked.
“One for me and one for Taig?”

Red Cheeks
’ name was Taig, she made a mental note to remember this. She would have to go back to Dunrobin now. She had to tell Magnus that Ina was sending men to harm his people. He had a right to know, and warn his people to take extra precautions.

“Shut it, Nil,” Taig ordered, his body tensing.

Both men stiffened, listening for something.

Was it her friend they imagined? But then she heard it too. The steady clomp of a horse’s hooves.

Arbella’s heartbeat quickened. She gripped the handle of her dagger and yanked it free holding it tight in front of her with both hands as her brother had taught her. The dagger was long enough to act as a short sword for her.

She still did not speak.

Their gazes turned toward her. Taig smiled widely.

“Seems ye have lot more to offer up than a tasty body.
Ye’re to give us a fight.” He stepped forward, and her breath hitched. He was not afraid. “Who comes? Be it a friend of yours?”

She dared not answer. She had no idea, but she didn’t want to wait around to find out. Without warning, she struck out, slicing Taig’s cheek with her weapon. The man cried out in shock, stepping back his fingers touching the streak of red on his cheek. Nil lunged toward her, his hands stretched out to grab her, but she wasted no time slicing into his palms
and he too jumped back.

Arbella took the opportunity to run.
Fast.

Chapter Seventeen

Arbella
ran back toward the way she’d come. Back toward Dunrobin. Blindly. One hand gripped the dagger, the other held out in front of her to ward off the strike of braches as they stung her cheeks.

The Ross men roared behind her. She was glad they’d faltered, allowing her a chance to run, but they were spitting mad now, and if they caught up to her…

The thunder of an approaching horse grew louder. She could hear the snorts and breaths of the beast as he was ridden hard up the road parallel to the forest. Unexpectedly, the rider entered the forest and barreled right toward her. She only had a moment to glance up, a sense of déjà vu encompassing her as Magnus reached down and grabbed her around the waist, hauling her on top of his horse. He situated her on his lap and then turned his horse back toward the road without a word.

“Wait!” she said breathlessly, glancing up at him. “There are men…”

Noticing her blood-stained dagger for the first time, Magnus said, “Who? Are ye harmed?”

She shook her head quickly, her hair flying into her eyes. “No, I am not harmed. They are Ross men.
Taig and Nil. They said their mistress was not pleased with you.”

Magnus grimaced, but still did not slow his horse. “Ye fought them?
I’ve met the two before and they are unstable, unruly.”

“Not truly.”

“What of the blood?”

“I held them at
bay, they were distracted by the sound of your approach.” She wiped the dagger clean on her dirt-stained cloak.

“Ye are
a strong lass.” His voice was filled with awe.

She didn’t feel strong. Her heart still beat so fast she feared it would burst. Her hands shook and
, try as she might, she couldn’t get the dagger back into its loop at her belt. Magnus, seeing her struggle, gripped his reins in one hand and took the dagger with the other, easily fitting it back in place. She wanted to go home, to curl up in her bed. And she realized then, when she pictured home, her bed, it was the one she shared with Magnus.

She sagged against him, pressing her face to his warm chest. She reached her hands around his waist and held on tight.

As much as she despised him, as much as she hated what he’d done, her heart still clung to the notion of them together, to the feelings wrapped around her whenever he was near or far.

Arbella
needed him.

Magnus slowed his horse as they rounded a bend in the road and came to a steep incline along the edge of
the cliff overlooking the sea.

“Where are we going?” she asked, not recognizing this path.

“To the beach. I want to show ye something.” He leaned back a little, bringing her with him as he balanced himself on the sharp slope.

“What of the Ross men?”

“I’ve already prepared my men for some sort of retaliation. I’d hoped our years of alliance would be enough, but it would seem Ina has a few strings she can pull.”

“You are not worried they will come to Dunrobin?”

“There are only two of them ye said?”

“Aye.
But what if more come?”

Magnus shook his head, leaning back to keep steady on the horse as they descended. The muscles of his back rippled beneath her fingertips.

“The men will go back to Ross lands now, and when they return, if they return, my men will be prepared.”

Arbella took him at his word. When it came to her life, she trusted Magnus. His fidelity and morals were another matter. She sent a prayer up to God to pardon him his sins.

The sound of the ocean churning, waves crashing, grew louder as they descended the rocky path on the cliff. The air cooled, and gentle sprays of ocean water reached up to kiss her cheeks with each blow of the wind. The sun had really started to sink now, turning the sky into a purple grey. The moon already shone dimly in the sky.

“Should we not go back to the castle? ‘
Twill be dark soon.”

“Not yet.” Magnus’ lips were set in a grim line.

Finally, his horse’s hooves reached the sand. Magnus sat taller, bringing her more upright with him.

“Tell me where we’re going,” she said softly, hoping her request did not come off as a demand.

“Just down the beach. There is cave I oft go to, to think and be alone. ’Tis safe.”

She was touched that he would bring her there. “I would like to see it.”

“Aye, I will show ye.”

“Why are we headed there instead of the castle?”
She gazed back at him, momentarily stunned by how handsome he was. Every time she looked at him she couldn’t help but think he was carved by the gods from stone.

“There is much we need to discuss, Arbella.” His gaze met hers and she saw a fierce determination there. What he was determined to do or say she wasn’t sure, but she was intrigued and her heart beat faster for an altogether different reason.

“All right,” she whispered.

Several minutes later
, he reined in his horse in front of a rocky entrance. He dismounted, pulling her down with him, then reaching into a pack on his horse’s saddle pulled out a flint rock. He struck the flint and lit a torch just inside the cave wall. The walls radiated an orange glow, dark shadows dancing around. The entrance was small, maybe only five feet across and it didn’t go back very far, maybe a dozen paces. ’Twasn’t truly a cave like what she’d thought. No bears or wildcats lurked in here. But it was a safe haven from the weather and possibly even from an approaching enemy.

Pulling off his cloak
, Magnus laid it on the ground and sat down beside it, indicating she should join him.

Arbella was wary of sitting so close beside him. The cave and deserted beach seemed so intimate, and while she knew in her heart Magnus was her future, she had no idea how he felt. She’d used force on him, run away and put his clan in danger.

Prickles crawled up her spine. Had he brought her here to punish her?

“Dinna look at me like that, Bella. I’ll not hurt
ye.”

His use of her childhood nickname tugged at her heart and she felt parts of her defenses melting.

Taking a few steps forward, she felt the cool air of the cave beckoning her. Sweat from her earlier exertions still clung to her skin like a film. She sat down beside him, her legs tucked up beneath her, hands folded in her lap. She could feel the heat of him only a few inches away. That heat leached off of him, caressing her into a contented cocoon. How was it possible to feel so comfortable with the man?

“What happened?”

She shook her head. Regret filled her. She shouldn’t have let her temper get the best of her. “I don’t know… I was looking down into the valley at Dunrobin and then I felt myself being pushed from behind.”

“Not that. What happened in our chamber? Ye struck me.”

Heat flooded her face and she stared hard at her hands. The hand she’d hit him with still ached. Magnus touched her chin, gently bringing her to face him.

“I’m sorry.” Her words came out softly.

He nodded. “I’ll accept your apology, but I must know what ye did.”

“’Tis a knifehand strike. My brother showed me how. Said if I was ever face to face with an enemy—not that you’re an enemy—” She shook her head, disappointed at how she was bungling her explanation. “I just couldn’t let you kiss me again, Magnus. I have no control when you kiss me.” She hated to admit that, felt mortification sinking deep.

“Why couldn’t ye let me kiss ye? I’m your husband.”

At this, she knew she had to confront him. “Are you really? What of Ina?”

Magnus shook his head, his lips thinning and he stared beyond her shoulder as if seeing into the past. “’Tis true that I was betrothed to her. A verbal agreement was made. We were not hand-fasted, there was no contract signed, and I certainly never bedded her.”

“So what she said was a lie?”

He nodded and gripped her hands in his. “Aye. The woman has grown up always getting what she wants, and what she wanted was me—more like the title of Lady of Sutherland.” He kissed her knuckles, making her stomach flutter. “When I found ye, I admit, ’twas a Godsend, and I thought a reprieve from having to marry her, as I could marry ye first. But as I’ve gotten to know ye… Our marriage is not about convenience for me, Bella.” He swallowed, his thick throat bobbing. “’Tis much deeper than that.”

Warmth filled her heart. His words meant so much more to her than he could ever imagine. She needed to hear them, to know that she was important to him, that she
hadn’t just been an easy excuse to get away from a woman he’d already bedded and found lacking.

“Now, ye must tell me the truth.”

Her eyes widened. What could he possibly mean? He gazed at her, not saying another word. She grew increasingly wary under his scrutiny. Biting her lip, she pulled her gaze away. She had an idea of what he wanted to know. He’d asked her several times and she’d always skirted around answering. He wanted to know what she’d been doing in Stirling. But she wasn’t ready to tell him that, even when he’d poured out his heart to her.

“I don’t know of what you speak.” To her dismay, her voice broke on the last word. She pulled her hands away, trying to distance herself from him, to push away the warmth he infused inside her.

Magnus raked his hands through his long hair and huffed out a breath. He hesitated, measuring her countenance for a moment. “If ye willna tell me, then mayhap I can tell ye what I think.”

She nodded, a tight knot forming in her throat.

“I think ye were going to Stirling with the baron to be married. Married to an English bastard—mayhap one I sliced through on the field of battle. Am I correct?”

He knew
, that was as simple as it got. The complicated part was telling him he was right. How could she guarantee her safety if he knew she was meant to lie in bed with his enemy? The silence loomed between them, the space filled with the occasional misty sea spray.

“Bella…” he drawled out.

Her gaze met his. Magnus’ dark green eyes were open, clear, allowing her to feel calm, to sink into the safety he offered.

“I didn’t…”

He wrapped his arms around her, his nose touching hers. “Ye are my wife. No harm will come to ye. Of that I can promise. As long as ye keep your knifehand strike away from me.”

Arbella laughed, despite the
tension she felt in her bones. “I shan’t strike you again.” She nodded. “I was to marry an English noble. I do not know what became of him. I wouldn’t know him if I passed him on the road. He is a stranger to me.”

“His name?”

She chewed her lip for a moment, but decided there was no use hiding the man’s name. “Marmaduke Stewart.”

“’Tis a Scottish name.”

Arbella shrugged. “My father told me he was English.”

“Or a traitor.”

When she stiffened in his grip, Magnus pulled her in closer, pressing his lips to her temple. She closed her eyes, breathing his scent, a mix of fresh air, horse and mint. Even his scent brought her a sense of calm.

“Have you told anyone?” She hated how her voice wavered when she asked.

“Only Ronan.”

“Oh,” she said.

“Dinna fash, lass. Ronan doesna care.”

She doubted that. She’d seen the anger Ronan exuded when Ina had come into the hall, felt that some of his anger could have been directed at her. “He is angry that we are married. I do not think he likes me.”

Magnus chuckled. “’Tis the truth he
was
angry we married. But not now. And another certainty is that he’s more fond of ye than I like.”

“Why was he angry?”

“For the clan. I went against my word. In the Highlands our word is our honor. And I knew it would be seen as thus, but my honor to protect ye and my promise to see ye safe held a higher power than that of my word to marry another. I dinna regret it, Bella. Not ever. My family will honor ye, and they will protect ye. Ye never need fear them. Now…” He nuzzled her neck. “I want ye to show me how ye did the knifehand strike.”

Arbella tilted her head to the side to allow him better access. His lips were decadent against her flesh. A sigh escaped her.