Tyler, Lynn - For Her Honor [For Her] (Siren Publishing Classic) (31 page)

“What do you intend for us to do?”

“One of the stable lads has saddled some horses. We will leave now and use the light of the moon to guide our way back to MacGillivray land.”

She nodded silently and glanced out the window again. The sun was rising steadily and threw a startling amount of light into the inner bailey. “We could be seen,” she whispered as he ushered her to the door.

“Yes,” he said. “But this is the only night Henry will not be expecting you to escape. None of the people know of your presence yet. By this time tomorrow, you will have half the clan trying to rescue you. Henry knows this and will not take a chance so he is planning to send you away.”

Jocelyn shuddered at the thought of where Henry was planning to send her. Probably some insect-infested hole in the ground. She held on to the back of Ian’s plaid as he led the way down the staircase and out the door.

They moved quietly across the hard-packed earth, where a young lad of about twelve waited with two horses. He had his fingers in the horses’ nostrils to stop them from whinnying, though he had to hold on for dear life as they were tossing their heads about mightily. “This is Bothar. He has risked much to help us tonight. All I ask is that you take him into your clan so he does not suffer the punishment here. I would stay with your clan as well, if Laird MacGillivray will have me.”

Jocelyn nodded and smiled at the nervous boy. She allowed Ian to lift her into the saddle and sat still as he mounted behind her. Bothar settled himself on the horse next to them, and they gingerly picked their way across the bailey, slipping out of the gates and into the woods. They had just cleared the tree line when the heard a mighty roar.

Ian swore and glanced over his shoulder, toward the keep. “They checked on you earlier than I thought,” he explained. “I am afraid we will have to make haste if we are to outrun them.”

Snapping the reins, they took off into the night, their pursuers hard on their heels. “Keep up, Bothar!” Ian hollered. “You will not like what they do to you should they catch you.”

The boy, for his part, did not have any trouble keeping up with them. They raced through the trees, ignoring the shouts of the warriors behind them. One red-haired warrior drew up beside them, and Ian drew his sword. “Fall back, Michael!” Ian called desperately. “Do not force me to use this!”

The warrior didn’t answer. He just grabbed for Jocelyn.

“I warned you!” Ian shouted as he slashed his sword toward the warrior. Jocelyn closed her eyes and waited for the telltale sound of death. Instead, she heard the high scream of a horse and realized Ian had slashed the horse instead of skewering his friend. The warrior jumped off the horse as it stumbled.

They ran pell-mell through the forest for what seemed like hours, though it may have only been minutes. Time seemed to slow as the Campbells steadily made ground. Jocelyn closed her eyes and prayed for a miracle.

Suddenly, their mount reared, kicking high in the air. Ian tumbled off the back of the saddle. Jocelyn grabbed the horse’s mane in a vain attempt to control the frightened animal. She opened her eyes to see what had caused the stallion such a fright.

There, standing in all his warrior glory, was Robbie, backed by ten more MacGillivray warriors. He was rumpled and mussed, and they had obviously trampled in on their camp. He was bare chested, war plaits braided at his temples, and gazing at them with the fiercest expression she had ever seen. He had never been more beautiful.

Now! Jocelyn had to touch him now. She slid off the horse with a cry and threw herself into his arms, burying her face in his chest and wrapping herself around him. He was here, and he was real. She never wanted to let go.

The tamped fire was still smoking and the acrid scent stung her nostrils when she pulled back to look up at her husband. The sun, still low in the sky but steadily rising, shined behind him, giving him the appearance of an avenging angel. Horses whinnied restlessly around them as the warriors, including her brother-in-law, finished saddling them.

Robbie’s hands moved urgently over her body as he whispered nonsense into her ear soothingly. She burrowed closer and inhaled his scent. He smelled of sweat and smoke from the campfire. He was earthy, ripe even, and she couldn’t get enough of him. “Um, Jocelyn? A little help please?”

She lifted her head and turned in Robbie’s arms to find Ian surrounded by the warriors, swords pointed his way. “Wait!” she cried. “He and the lad saved me.”

The MacGillivrays looked to Robbie for orders. Before he could open his mouth, the sounds of horses crashing through the woods caught their attention.

“They come!” Ian hollered. “They are right behind us!”

Chapter
19

Robbie kissed her hard on the mouth before moving to stand in front of her and drew his sword. “Ready yourselves, lads!” he shouted, urging Jocelyn to stand fully behind him.

She ran her hands greedily up his spine, reveling in the feel of his hard muscles covered by smooth skin. “Jocelyn, loving, that is quite distracting,” he said with a grin. God, he loved her. He couldn’t wait to tell her, but now was not the time. He would wait until he had her in their bed, panting from pleasure.

Ian rose cautiously to his feet, his hands raised in a symbol of surrender. “My laird,” he called urgently. “We cannot fight them here! There are too many of them.”

Colin scoffed as Jamie laughed. “You underestimate the MacGillivrays,” Jamie called. “We can take on four times as many men before we find difficulty. We have eleven strong men.”

Ian nodded respectfully at Jamie before correcting them. “You have twelve, if you will have me,” he said. “But nearly four times is what we will fight, as there are at least forty men following us.”

“We can take them,” one of the MacGillivray warriors cried, thrusting his sword into the air aggressively.

Robbie looked around at his warriors, knowing they would like nothing more than to fight these Campbells for taking off with their mistress. He was tempted to spill a little Campbell blood immediately himself, but the feel of his tiny wife pressed against his back stopped him. “You are right, lads. We could take them. But I will not put Jocelyn in any more danger. We make for the keep.”

Robbie expected his men to roar with anger at being denied a chance to spill some enemy blood but was relieved when they nodded their agreement and began to mount their horses. Luckily they had been up at the first sign of dawn and were ready to leave. He pulled Jocelyn in front of him and lifted her into the saddle, swinging himself up behind her.

Gathering her in his arms, he held the reins in one hand and tucked her against his chest, turning her face into his neck to help protect her from flying branches. He took off toward the MacGillivray keep.

Robbie could hear the shouts of the Campbells behind them, being spurred on by the howls of their laird, and he tightened his hold on his wife. “I have got you, loving,” he murmured close to her ear. “They will not take you from me again.”

The only sign she gave of hearing his statement was a slight squeeze of his arm. If only he had not relented and taken her guards away. He should have known that she wouldn’t hesitate to leave the bailey if she thought someone needed her help. Dear Lord, would she ever trust him with her safety again?

They rode on, pushing their mounts as hard as they could. Fortunately, their horses had been rested during the night, and they quickly outpaced the enemy. Slowly, the Campbells began to fall behind, and the MacGillivrays were able to slow their horses down to a walk, even allowing their mounts a quick drink from the fast-flowing stream before urging them forward.

Robbie gazed down at her face, concerned to see her so pale. Smoothing her hair away from her eyes, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Are you well?”

She gasped quietly as the horse stumbled a little on an exposed root. When she tipped her head back to lean it on his chest, he noticed the faint lines of pain at the corners of her eyes and mouth. ”Jocelyn, imp, what is wrong?”

Jocelyn shook her head and readjusted her seat, shifting against him as she moved. Her skirt slipped a little, drawing his attention to the red stains spreading down the dress ominously. “Christ, Jocelyn! What has happened? Have you hurt yourself?”

She stifled a sob and turned to rest her cheek on Robbie’s chest. His heart clenched as he remembered their first time together. How he had cradled her to him and how she had relaxed into his arms trustingly.

She was not relaxing against him now. She was holding her body stiffly, almost as if each step of the horse was paining her. “Loving, please tell me. Perhaps I can help,” he begged, the sight of her tears tearing him apart.

“’Tis the babe, Robbie,” she whispered thickly, her tears flowing faster down her cheeks.

Robbie said nothing as her emotions broke and she sobbed unrestrainedly in his arms. He held her gently, stroking her hair as they rode slowly into the early dawn. He felt as if his heart had been shredded. His child was gone, destroyed by a madman. Worse, he knew miscarriages could be dangerous for the mother. And judging by the amount of blood on Jocelyn’s skirt, she was in danger of bleeding to death. There could be, would be, other children, but there was only one Jocelyn.

Jamie guided his horse so that it walked next to his and cocked his head to look questioningly at his sister-in-law. Clearing his throat, he shook his head at Jamie. “Take one of the men and ride ahead to the keep. Have the midwife waiting for Jocelyn.”

Jamie’s eyes drifted to the red on Jocelyn’s skirt, and he blanched. Nodding, he called for a warrior, and together, they took off for the keep.

Jocelyn’s tears slowed, and she leaned exhaustedly against him. “Sleep, Jocelyn,” he whispered in her ear. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and glassy, before going limp in his arms.

He held her as gently as possible as they rode onward, his men on guard in case some intrepid Campbell caught up with them.

The MacGillivray keep came into view, and Robbie was grateful to see his brother had warned the warriors of the impending attack. He noted the guards on the walls with approval as they rode through the village. It seemed to be empty, the center strangely silent in the morning light. The people must have been evacuated into the keep. Hopefully, their presence would not be too taxing on their rations.

The huge gates opened, allowing the party of warriors in, and Robbie rode his stallion right up to the stairs. He handed Jocelyn to Jamie and dismounted, handing his horse over to one of the stable lads.

He took Jocelyn from his brother and headed into the keep. “Have the warriors meet in the great hall shortly. I will be down as soon as I see to Jocelyn.”

Without waiting for an answer, Robbie stalked off up the stairs and down the hall toward the laird’s chambers. Once inside, he laid Jocelyn on the bed and turned to the waiting midwife. He waited silently as she examined his wife, wincing along with Jocelyn as she hissed in pain. Lord, he wished he could suffer the pain for her.

The midwife finished and smoothed Jocelyn’s skirts down around her hips. “A warm bath will help you feel better,” she said quietly.

Jocelyn turned on her side and presented him with her back. Robbie looked helplessly at the midwife, terrified of the news she had to depart. “The babe has been lost, my laird,” she said quietly. “There is much damage. I am not entirely sure she will be able to bear any more children.”

Robbie sank to his knees next to the bed, overcome with grief for his lost child and pain for what his wife must be going through. Her shoulders hunched forward, and her whole body shook as she attempted to suppress her sobs. He longed to reach out and stroke her back, to soothe her pain, but he had no idea what to say. He had failed her.

God’s blood, he had failed to keep her safe and now, because of his failure, she had lost their baby. How could he ever make that up to her?

A quiet knock sounded at the door, and the midwife moved to answer. Robbie turned his head slightly to see who had dared to interrupt them in this most personal moment.

Jamie stood awkwardly in the doorframe, twisting his hands almost anxiously. “I am sorry to interrupt,” he said, glancing nervously at Jocelyn shaking on the bed and Robbie on his knees by her side. “The Campbells draw near.”

Robbie nodded and slowly rose to his feet, never taking his eyes off Jocelyn. “You will stay with her?” he asked the midwife.

“Of course, my laird,” she answered.

Robbie cast one more glance at Jocelyn’s now-still form and followed Jamie out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

He stopped just outside the door and leaned his forehead against the cool wood, trying desperately to control his emotions, knowing it was dangerous to battle with such tumultuous feelings.

For the first time in his life, hot tears welled up in his eyes, and he pounded his fist helplessly into the door. “Robbie?” Jamie said quietly.

The concern in his brother’s voice broke through his reserve, and the tears he had been fighting finally coursed down his face. Stifling a sob, he scrubbed his tartan over his face. Taking a deep breath, he ran his hands through his hair and raised his gaze to his brother’s.

“The babe?” Jamie inquired gently.