True Love Brides 02 - The Highlander’s Curse (19 page)

“Nay!” he protested.

“Be silent, lest all realize your master’s intended crime,” Annelise instructed. The boy regarded her mutinously but held his tongue. Annelise spun, as she realized that someone loomed behind her.

She turned to find Garrett holding Yseult’s reins, a smile curving his lips. “Well done, my lady,” he murmured and Annelise looked past him to see Orson unconscious on the stable floor. She liked very much that he had fallen into a pile of manure.

Garrett handed her the reins, then stepped past her to shove a cloth into the squire’s mouth. “He will be comfortable enough here,” he said, then turned to fit his hands around Annelise’s waist. He began to lift her into the saddle, but Annelise saw the lines of tension around his mouth and the way his eyes were narrowed.

She stayed him with a touch, framing his face in her hands as she looked into his eyes. “You are in pain again,” she whispered. “You should not have come.”

Garrett shook his head. “I could not stay away, not when I knew what he meant to do.”

Annelise smiled. “You can hear the thoughts of others, just like the Fae in the tale.”

Garrett only held her gaze. He neither confirmed nor denied her guess, but Annelise was certain she was right. She would have asked him more questions, but he moved to lift her to the saddle again. “My lady, you are in peril. You must ride out.”

“I will not leave without you.”

“You
will
leave without me, for this battle is not done.”

Annelise studied him, knowing she trusted him fully. “We will go to Kinfairlie,” she said. “And I will speak to Alexander. He vowed I could wed at my own choice, and I choose you.”

Garrett seemed to have not heard her. “You must flee!”

But Annelise was not prepared to go as yet. “I would thank you first,” she said, then touched her lips to his. Garrett caught his breath, then his mouth slanted over hers in silent demand. His kiss was quick and hungry, a possessive and a potent embrace for all its brevity.

All too soon, he lifted her to the saddle. Annelise felt that fire kindled within her once again and she knew she was smiling. Was it her imagination that Garrett appeared to be more at ease? She dared to hope that her kiss could be of aid to him.

Even if it wasn’t, she wanted his kiss again. Yseult pranced in impatience to be away from this chaos, seeming to share Garrett’s desire for haste.

Garrett grasped the reins and led the mare into the rain. Yseult snorted and tossed her head, unhappy with the weather, and Annelise was glad that Garrett was leading them. To her surprise, he led the mare to a back gate, the one used to take the goats out to graze. She remembered now that the gate itself had been broken the week before. She could barely discern the path in the darkness beyond, but she knew it led to a pasture. Yseult balked, for she was not fond of darkness or solitude.

Garrett led her through the opening in the wall, then caught Annelise’s hand beneath his and squeezed her fingers. His gaze bored into hers again. “I will find you, wherever you go,” he vowed and her heart thrilled at it.

There was a shout from within Seton Manor and they both looked back. Garrett slapped the flanks of Yseult and the blow made the choice for Yseult. The mare began to trot down the narrow path, even as Annelise turned back for a last glimpse of Garrett. He had already disappeared, but she knew she would see him again. She wondered what he intended to do and prayed for his safety.

The path was quickly becoming muddy, so Annelise let the horse choose her own pace. They passed through a dark patch of woods and into a meadow. Yseult raced across the pasture even as the rain teemed down upon them and the thunder cracked overhead. Flashes of lightning illuminated the clearing and Annelise was glad when they plunged into the cover of forest again. She was already soaked to the skin.

Just ahead was the winding road that led to Seton Manor, and Annelise knew Yseult would run more quickly on that surface. She urged the horse to greater speed even in the forest, fearing pursuit. Yseult leapt on to the road, well content with such a familiar surface, and Annelise turned her hard to run away from Seton Manor. As the mare began to gallop, Annelise hunkered down over the saddle.

She could not see Garrett any more, but she trusted him to keep his vow. She knew he would ensure her safety.

As she rode, far to her right, she caught glimpses of white in the forest. At first, she thought it a reflection, but it kept pace with her, disappearing from view then appearing once again. It never drew close enough to the road that she could see it well, nor did it disappear into the forest.

Some creature matched its pace to hers.

A white creature that could run as quickly as a horse. Annelise gripped the reins even as she recalled her strange dream.

*

Percy stumbled in his haste to reach the chamber that Orson and Andrew had shared. He had been told that he had one small opportunity to avoid a beating, and though he knew that his knight might be lying about that chance, still he had to take it.

All he had to do was fetch Andrew and convince the household of Orson’s fabricated explanation. Percy prayed that he could manage it.

He did not even attempt to be quiet, for Orson had said it would be better if the entire household was roused. His footsteps pounded on the stairs as he ran, and he flung open the door to the chamber so hard that it struck the wall behind.

The shutters were open, admitting some measure of light, and the rain was slanting through the window, pooling on the floor. Andrew was snoring softly in his pallet, oblivious to the storm. The chamber smelled of ale.

Percy shook the knight by the shoulder, at first gently and then with greater force when Andrew was not roused. “Sir! You must awaken! We must save the lady Annelise!”

Andrew opened his eyes, then winced. “Oh, my head!” He fell back on his pillow and looked at Percy as if he did not know who he was. “It is the middle of the night,” he said with care.

“Indeed, it is, sir, but the lady Annelise has been abducted!” Percy began to set out the knight’s garments, his hands shaking. “We must make haste!”

“Sadly, we made merry,” Andrew complained and Percy looked to find that the knight’s eyes had closed again.

“Sir! My lord Orson bade me fetch you with all haste. He will ride out to defend the lady.”

Andrew yawned. “For he would wed her above all others,” he said, his tone sleepy. “I know this, Percy, but it has naught to do with me.”

“You must ride with him, sir, to defend the lady’s honor and ensure that justice is served.”

Andrew opened one eye. “I assume there is a villain in this tale.”

Percy nodded and leaned closer. “The hunter, sir. The outlaw!”

Andrew appeared to be skeptical. “That invalid?” At Percy’s nod, he rolled over, thumping his pillow into shape. “In that case, I am certain Orson can defeat him alone. I cannot fathom why he believes the man such a threat to his plan.”

“But, sir!”

“It will make a better tale for those at Kinfairlie, Percy,” Andrew concluded, then yawned mightily.

To Percy’s dismay, this argument made some sense, though he doubted his knight would see the matter that way. For Orson, Percy’s failure to bring Andrew would simply be a failure.

To Percy’s further dismay, Andrew began to snore anew. He shook the knight’s shoulder once more, but to no avail.

But what made Percy’s despair complete was the sound of a man clearing his throat behind him. He spun to find the laird himself leaning in the doorway, his eyes glinting with suspicion. “What is this?” he asked softly, and Percy knew this man would not be readily deceived.

“The lady Annelise has been abducted, sir.”

The lady Isabella pushed past her husband, her fair hair unbound and her expression filled with concern. “By whom?” she demanded, her gaze darting to the empty pallet Orson had occupied. Her lips thinned and Percy took a step back.

“By the hunter, my lady.” He saw immediately that they did not care for these tidings and detected their skepticism. Before they could ask a question, he blurted out the one thing he knew to be true. “She said they would make for Kinfairlie, that she might ask Alexander for his approval.”

The lady of Seton Manor smiled at that. “Abducted?” she echoed. “It sounds as if my sister has made a choice.” She leaned closer. “Who bade you say she was abducted, Percy?”

Percy looked between the lady and her silent husband, and swallowed. “My lord knight, madam, for he interrupted the fiend in the stables.”

“I assume he means to give chase?” the laird asked.

Percy nodded, relieved that there was no deceit in this part of the tale. “His trap has been badly tangled, my lord, but as soon as I have set it to rights, he will ride out to save the lady.”

“Save,” the lady echoed under her breath, but a gesture from her husband kept her from saying more.

“I would ask you to return to bed, Isabella,” he said, resolve in his tone as he held Percy’s gaze. Percy felt that the truth would rise from within him of its own volition and insist upon being heard by the laird. “And I will go to the stables to speak to Orson myself.” He gestured to Percy. “Come, Percy.”

The last thing Percy wanted to do was go to Orson, without having completed his instructions. “I am to bring Sir Andrew, sir.”

The knight in question was snoring loudly again, apparently too inebriated to be roused soon. Percy had a moment to fear Orson’s reprisal for a failure to do his whim, then the laird’s hand landed on his shoulder.

“I doubt that will be possible.” Murdoch smiled slightly. “I shall explain the situation to your lord knight, Percy. Not all men can hold their ale.”

Percy spared one last glance for the sleeping knight and dared to hope that the laird could diffuse his knight’s certain fury. He had not much choice, either way, so he did as he was bidden and hoped for the best.

*

When the door was closed securely and the sound of boots on the stairs had faded, Andrew ceased to snore. He rolled to his back and considered the ceiling, formulating his plan.

Garrett would not make for Kinfairlie. He would ride for Killairig, to make his pathetic plea for suzerainty again, for winning that holding would allow him to offer for Annelise’s hand.

Sadly for Garrett and Annelise, Andrew had far too much to lose to allow the pair of them to ever reach that abode.

*

There was sorcery in Annelise’s kiss.

As before, a tide of tranquility had surged through Garrett at her touch, lingering even after he broke her kiss. Her kiss had fortified him and cleared his mind, pushing back the thoughts of others with fearsome force. He felt hale when she kissed him, revitalized and convinced of the truth of Mhairi’s tale.

It had not been easy to send her on her way and trust that all would come right, but he dared not leave Seton Manor without knowing Orson’s plan. He hoped the squire would remember what Annelise had said, for he had no intention of letting her ride for Kinfairlie as yet.

He had to win the right to ask for her hand first, and that goal could only be achieved by riding west instead of east.

Garrett crept back toward the manor as she rode into the night, listening with care. He heard Orson berate his squire, and his eyes narrowed at the knight’s planned deception. He did not wait to hear the household’s reaction, but hastened in pursuit of his lady.

Their advantage might not last long and he would make the most of it.

Because Seton Manor was nestled in the hills that rose on the eastern side of the Highlands, the road to both east and west tended to switch back upon itself. A path through the forest—the kind of path a wolf might take—would be far more direct and take less time. The clouds made it impossible to consult the stars, but Garrett knew the shape of this land sufficiently well, as well as the wind. He strode into the forest with purpose. When he had crossed the meadow and reached the road, he noted the indentations from Yseult’s hooves in mud of the road.

The rain would be their ally on this night, for the mare’s tracks would become obscured by the time Orson managed to lend chase. Garrett had time to feel a moment of satisfaction before he heard consternation from the gates of Seton Manor.

He listened and was shocked.

Orson would ride out with tack borrowed from Murdoch.

And he would do so within moments.

At that, Garrett lunged into the forest on the other side of the road. He raced down the slope of the hill, listening for the sound of hoof beats, both ahead of him and behind. He leapt fallen logs and splashed through streams; he was soaked by the falling rain and slapped by wet leaves and branches. Each time, he crossed the switchback of the road, he listened, and his fear rose as time passed and he did not sense his lady. Garrett did not slacken his pace, fearing only for Annelise.

Had she ridden a different way? Had she changed her mind about going to Kinfairlie? He knew only that she had not turned back, for he would have passed her on his way. How quickly could Yseult run? It seemed impossible that she had come so far as this—then his fear was stopped cold.

She was just ahead and to his left. Garrett leapt over the road, racing toward the next point it crossed his path. He burst out onto the road ahead, running in the same direction Annelise was riding.