A Highlander’s Homecoming (9 page)

“You canna stay here,” the laird interrupted. “I’ll no have her spend even one night under my roof against her will. As she says, you must leave now.”

Robert looked around him in disbelief. He was surrounded by sheer insanity. What Isabella proposed, what her grandfather insisted upon, was nowhere in the realm of logical behavior.

Still, the MacGahan guards who’d stepped forward, swords drawn, gave emphasis to the fact, logical or not, he and Isabella would be leaving this keep as soon as possible. There could be no argument about it.

She’d taken barely two steps when she stopped and turned back toward the large table with a muttered, “I almost forgot.”

Robert edged closer as Isabella leaned over the table toward the man who’d spoken earlier.

The finger she pointed at the man before she spoke was long, delicate and caked with ash. “One last thing for you, Roland. I’ll no take kindly to hearing of any further
ill-treatment of the lad, Jamie. Do you ken my meaning, Cousin? Dinna make me come back here angry.”

The man’s lips drew back in distaste, but any retort was halted by the laird’s hand to his shoulder.

“Dinna fash yerself over the lad, Isa. No harm will come to him as long as I live. You have my word. Now be off with you.”

Apparently satisfied with her grandfather’s promise, Isabella turned, sweeping past Robert and down the aisle between the tables.

With one last look at the men on the dais, their heads drawn together in hushed discussion, Robert hurried after her, catching up as they exited the great hall.

The late-afternoon rain had slowed to a steady drizzle by the time they walked out the main doorway. There was no point in his new charge getting drenched again.

“If you’d like to wait inside, I’ll go see to our horses and bring them around.”

Isabella drew the edges of her cloak together, attempting to shut out the misting rain. “I have no horse for you to see to.”

No horse? “How did you get here?”

“On the rare occasion the laird summons me, he sends a lad along on horseback. I ride with him. Now I suppose I’ll ride with you.” She lifted one shoulder carelessly. “Or I’ll walk. It’s of no consequence to me how I go, as long as I do.”

“Wonderful,” Robert muttered, stomping down the steps toward the stable.

First they were headed off to Lord only knew where with precious little time before dark would overtake
them. On top of that, there was the possibility of MacDowylt’s men waiting out there for them. Now, for the perfect finishing touch, they’d be doubled on his mount, slowing any escape they might need to make.

This whole nightmare just kept getting better and better. But what could he expect? He should have known it would be like this the minute he’d learned Isabella MacGahan was a redhead.

Chapter 7
 

The rains ceased once they lost sight of Castle MacGahan. Robert’s worries about being caught in the open on the road lessened about the same time, as Isabella directed him to turn their mount into the heavy forest.

If only he could eliminate his worries about Isabella herself as easily.

His failure to see to a small child’s welfare had obviously forced her to live a ragged, dirty existence on the fringes of society. He had always known about hermits. They inhabited both centuries he’d lived in. He’d just somehow convinced himself they were mostly able-bodied men who had made their own choices in life, not unprotected women who eked out a solitary existence because their families had rejected them.

“Only a bit farther now and we’ll be home.” Isabella’s
cheerful announcement broke the silence between them.

Her words were welcome news to Robert. Their uneventful ride had lasted perhaps two hours, by his estimation, and it was growing late. The sun had dipped low on the horizon, and dusk already colored the deep recesses of the forest they rode through. Though it was unlikely they faced any danger so far away from the main trail, he would feel much more comfortable when he had her safely behind solid doors.

He just hoped wherever she lived actually
had
solid doors. Though the MacDowylt had gone away, he’d be back. Robert had not a single doubt of that fact. It was only a matter of when.

With a seeming lack of concern for her own safety, Isabella sat astride his horse in front of him. The top of her head was level with his nose, while her hands draped over the saddle horn. Her fingers, though dirty, were long and unexpectedly delicate.

Her hair, drying at last, tickled at his nose, filling his senses with the not unpleasant smell of woodsmoke.

How odd. From her appearance, the odors he would expect to find wafting up from the woman would be far from pleasant. And yet that wasn’t at all the case.

Inclining his head, he breathed in deeply, drawing the scent of her into his nostrils. Again he smelled woodsmoke lightly overlaying something fresh, something that made him think of sunshine on a warm spring day.

He must be mistaken.

When he sniffed in a second time, she stiffened, tilting her head to the side as if listening.

“What’s wrong? Is there something out there? Are we being followed?”

“No, my lady. I apologize if I startled you. I suspected something amiss, but there is no one out there.”

Without a doubt, however, something was amiss. All was not as it seemed with the wild redhead in his arms.

“Here we are,” she almost sang as they broke through into a picturesque clearing in the woods.

A small, tidy cottage with a neatly thatched roof lay straight ahead of them. Off to one side was an open area of freshly cleared land, obviously intended to serve as a garden. On the other side, a running stream wound its way down the hill and into the woods. While small and far from elaborate, it hardly looked like the home of the mad hermit the woman seated in front of him portrayed herself to be.

The longer he was around Isabella, the more of a puzzle she became. A most enticing puzzle he had every intention of solving.

What in the name of all that was holy was she going to do with this man now that they’d reached her home?

Isabella fidgeted in the saddle, impatient as Robert dismounted. Normally she would have simply slipped feetfirst to the ground, but this horse of his was a monster, easily larger than any she’d ever been on before. The ground was uncomfortably far away from her present perch.

When he lifted his arms to assist her, she leaned into him and his hands fastened around her waist. His grip tightened as he took her full weight, pulling her closer,
his face all but buried in her breasts. Her breath caught in her lungs and she placed her hands on his shoulders to steady her descent, feeling for a moment as if time stood still.

Lord, but she’d thought sitting so close to him on the journey home, his arms stretched out on both sides of her, had been difficult, but this!—
This
was a
thousand
times worse, face to face, sliding down the length of his hard body. Her heart pounded in her chest and a strange sensation shivered through her, warming her cheeks and shooting that heat throughout her, to the pit of her stomach and lower still. Closing her eyes, she fought against the need to catch her breath in quick little gasps as her toes touched solid ground
at last.

He released her as soon as her wobbly legs took her weight, and she looked up to find his handsome features distorted in a grimace. The sight of what had to be his disgust at being so close to her felt like the shock of falling into a frozen winter pond.

She stepped quickly back from him, dropping her eyes to the ground. This warrior, who had only moments before set her heart skipping in her chest, found her completely repulsive. So much so, in fact, that his face had distorted as if in pain when he’d held her.

As it should be. That had been her goal, had it not? To keep the world away from the old crone’s door? To convince everyone that she wasn’t worth their time or bother. She should be happy she’d been so successful in her deception.

She should be, but she wasn’t. His reaction hurt, cutting as deeply as any weapon ever could, and the heat
that suffused her cheeks now was stoked by the fire of humiliation. She simply wanted to be rid of the man and his hateful grimaces.

“Thank you for seeing me home. I’ve no more need of yer assistance now, so yer free to go as soon as you like.”

Free to go and let her get back to her life as usual. That should come as a welcome relief to the man.

“Go?” Neither his look nor his tone conveyed relief. If anything, he sounded incredulous. “I’ll no be leaving unless you’ve decided yer ready to make the move to my own home.”

Now it was her turn at incredulity. “Yer home? Oh, I dinna think so, sir. I’ve no intention of going to yer home.” Or any other place with a man such as him. No, the farther away she was from him, the better.

“You canna remain here, Isabella. The MacDowylt will come back.”

It could be as he said. He did seem to be a man who would know of the world. But MacDowylt would be returning to the castle, not to her woods.

“I’m no leaving my own home,” she repeated stubbornly.

He bowed his head as if he were a man accepting his laird’s judgment. “Then I stay here with you. I made a promise to yer father to look after you and, late or no, now that I’m here, I’ve every intention of keeping that promise.”

Oh no, having him here would never do.

“In that case, Robert MacQuarrie, as my father’s only living descendant, I release you from yer onerous vow.”

She envisioned him, at her words, gratefully mounting his enormous horse and riding quickly away into the distance. He did neither.

Instead he laughed.

“I’m sure yer pleased to have yer freedom back, sir, but I dinna see a need for you to be quite so rude about it.” You’d think the man would have some small regard for her feelings. He had vowed to see to her well-being even if she had released him from that promise.

“My apologies, my lady.” Though his laughter ceased and he dipped his head respectfully, the corners of his mouth continued to quirk upward. “I can see you value yer independence, but getting rid of me will no be so easy as that. As the subject of said vow, yer no in any position to release me from it. Simply put, if you stay, I stay.”

“Stay?” Isabella’s stomach tightened in a knot of nerves. What would she do if he seriously meant to stay? How long could she keep up her pretense? She’d never needed to carry on for more than a couple of hours at a time. Even now the ashes matted in her hair were itching at her scalp. “For how long?”

He crossed his arms over his large chest, following along behind her to the cottage door. “A month, a year, five years. I canna say. I’ll stay until I’m either satisfied this is the best place for you to be or I’ve convinced you to allow me to take you somewhere better.”

What had felt like a good idea in her grandfather’s hall, allowing this man to be her guardian, no longer seemed quite so appealing. In fact, she was beginning to feel as if some giant trap were closing in on her.

She opened her door and stepped inside, turning at
the last moment to peer up at the handsome warrior. If she couldn’t send him away, perhaps she could drive him away.

“Do as you want. But hear this: I’ve no a use for you or any other intruders in my life. I like my own company and no other’s. If yer to stay here, you’ll keep yerself out of my way.” With one step back, she slammed the door shut and leaned up against it, drawing in a deep breath.

There. That should convince him he wasn’t welcome. As soon as her body stopped trembling, she’d drag her stool over and climb up to watch him riding away.

The nerve of the woman! She’d slammed the door right in his face. Another inch or two and he’d be straightening out his nose even now.

Thick, dark clouds had begun to build, so he pounded on her door, pleased to see it seemed heavy enough to provide her some protection. After a long pause, followed by a scraping noise, she finally answered.

“Have you no left yet? What do you want?”

Robert shook his head, fighting back a smile at Isabella’s transparent actions. She thought he’d leave simply because she warned him off and slammed the door in his face? She had a lot to learn about him.

“Have you a place where I can shelter for the night?” he called.

“No,” came the muffled reply. “If yer to remain here, you’ll have to make do for yerself. I canna be expected to feed and shelter you.”

Remembering her apparent compassion for the boy back at her grandfather’s castle, he decided on a different tack.

“I’ve no such expectations for myself, my lady. But is there a place where I can feed and water my horse? A storm looks to be gathering and he’s tired after carrying the two of us all the way here.” Not exactly a complete truth—that animal had been bred and trained for much harder exertion. But Isabella didn’t know that.

A few moments passed this time before she responded.

“There’s a stable around back. And feed. Mind you dinna frighten my animals, though.”

Robert walked the short distance back to his horse, taking up his reins and leading the animal around to the back of the little house just as the first snowflakes began to drift to earth.