Claimed By A Charmer (The Pith Trilogy) (19 page)

Helena brought food and fresh
clothing, she brought a bit of cheer into the room. Douglas spent the next hour
alone, bathing and trying to come to an understanding about Isabel. The pain in
his shoulder subsided and the drumming inside his head decreased. Once washed
and in clean clothing, he felt rejuvenated. His mother returned after his bath,
changed the bedding, and had him returned to it as soon as the coverings were
replaced. She sat beside him, looking him over.

“I couldn’t believe someone shot
you with an arrow. Who would want to kill you?”

“I’ve wondered that myself, Mother.
I don’t have enemies that I know of, except for Irving Dunmore, and he’s a
sniveling fool. There’s strange happenings lately and I’m concerned about
Bonnie, then Ellic’s property was killed, the arrow… it all seems related.”

“We must think more on this. Mayhap
this has to do with Candace’s wedding? Do you believe it might be one of the
MacIver’s enemies?”

“That’s something to consider. Mayhap
someone is interested in stopping our alliance. I’ll talk to Wills when he
returns and find out if he’s had any trouble.”

His mother agreed, and left him to
rest.

Douglas spent the remainder of the
day setting his mind to figuring out who tried to kill him. Not only did the
mystery of his foe baffle him, but so did Isabel’s remarkable change about. She
bounded in his room, felt his head, checking his wound. She hummed as she went
about her tasks, and offered him a concoction to ward off pain. He refused it. She
patted his arm in a soothing gesture, and all the while, he lay compliantly,
watching her. It took all his will not to grab her when she stood close. Her
womanly scent filled the room, and if her smile didn’t lighten the room, he
didn’t know what would. She had such a pleasing aura about her. He had to
admit, she was delightful. He frowned when she left the room without saying
goodbye.

Questions lingered, and he hadn’t
come to any conclusion about his foe. He fell asleep shortly thereafter.

The next few days were spent with
him being badgered to stay in bed. He argued that he was well enough to go about
his duties, but Isabel wouldn’t hear of it. If it wasn’t for Cedric and Burk
coming to visit him, he would have gone crazed with boredom. He wasn’t one to
lie in bed and be coddled like a bairn. He grew agitated at being confined to
his chamber. He was a warrior for God’s sake, not some weak lad in need of a
woman’s care. Nay, he was a hardened warrior.

He was as frail as a newborn bairn,
and Douglas didn’t like it one bit.

It took little effort on Isabel’s
part to keep him in his room. He did feel poorly, but he decided to appease
her, or so he reasoned that’s why he’d agreed to stay in bed. Isabel tried to
give him more of her potion—whatever that was. The drink was God-awful, and he
didn’t like the way it made him feel. She threatened to force it on him, but he
wouldn’t hear of it, and he finally commanded her to put her blasted herbs
away.

Now that he felt better, he would
leave the bed, somehow. Douglas stood beside his window, looking at the
brightness of the morning. Over a week had passed since he awoke from his
injury. He tried to leave his room several times, only to be waylaid by that
hellion. She screeched at him to return to his bed, and threatened him—the
laird. Douglas laughed at her ploy though, and he couldn’t wait to see what was
going on in his own hall. If she drove him to such a state, he could imagine
what his clan members were going through. His mother wouldn’t tell him a thing;
she was closemouthed. She would laugh and skirt his questions, and damned if
everyone avoided talking about Isabel.

Douglas sent Burk for Brendan and
Gil. He needed their advisement on how to find his foe. Someone wanted him
dead, that was certain, and mayhap it would lead them to Bonnie.

He decided to leave the room today
whether she agreed or not. He opened the door, peering down the hallway. Skulking
from his room, he went down the stairs, feeling absurd for sneaking about his
home. He stood by the entrance of the great hall, listening. It was quiet. He
verged into the room hoping to find Cedric, but it was empty. Where was
everyone?

He walked to the table and took a
seat. Everything was still intact. He chuckled as he assessed the room. Cedric
came into the hall from outside a moment later, giving him a nod. Douglas
poured himself ale, and Cedric held out his cup.

“Did Burk leave to get Brendan and
Gil, yet?” Douglas filled Cedric’s cup.

“Aye, Burk left early this morn. Brendan
should have received your message by now. You can expect their arrival soon.”

“Has anyone tried to enter from
outside our walls?” Douglas took another drink, he’d only been allowed milk for
the past week. “This is damned good, pour me more.”

Cedric refilled his cup. “Rachel
returned, we turned her away, but no one else has tried to gain entry.”

“If she returns, you may bid her
entrance. I don’t think she was happy being returned to the Dunmores. Hell, I
wouldn’t be either. Was she alone?”

“She was escorted by Dunmore men. I
didn’t recognize a few of them, so we didn’t let on that you were injured.”

Douglas nodded. “No one else came?”

“Only Wills. Candace thought we
wouldn’t let him enter and she threatened to go to Milady Isabel. Of course,
once Isabel heard of it, she commanded us to let him in. She calmed down once
she realized we intended to let him inside.”

“Commanded, ‘eh? Speaking of the
lady, what’s she up to this day? I haven’t seen Isabel about for a few hours.”

“I haven’t seen her either. I’ve
had my hands filled with keeping her out of mischief these past days. Now that
you’re out of your sick bed, you can see to it.”

“I’ve a feeling I’ll still need
your help. I want you to keep an eye on her, my mother, and Candace as well. Until
I find my enemy, I don’t want my family endangered.”

“I knew you’d say that. I set men
to guard them. They don’t know that though. Milady would pitch a fit if she
knew I set a man to trail her.”

Cedric wasn’t speaking a falsehood,
she would give them hell.

“I think I’ll find the lass and see
what she’s doing.”

“I’d go out the back and avoid her,
were I you. Whatever ye do, don’t let her send you back to your sickbed.” Cedric
laughed on his way out the door.

Douglas followed him. The early
winter day warmed enough to ward off the chill from the mountains, and the sun
shined. Nary a cloud spotted the bright blue sky. He felt invigorated by the
Highland air, and he breathed deeply. He spent the rest of the morning trying
to locate the wayward lady. When he stopped to speak to his clan-people, asking
if they’d seen her, some looked as though they’d seen a ghost. He assured them
that he recovered and was well. They would only nod, pointing in a direction,
smiling at him.

After asking the sixth person, he
was finally directed to a copse of trees in the distance. He became alarmed
that she’d left the keep. He strode purposely to the trees. She had better be
safe or he would give her hell. He saw the young soldier Cedric had posted as
her guard, and he sent him back to the keep. The man wanted to stay and protect
her, but Douglas assured him that he would see to her safety.

He heard Isabel speaking to someone
through the brush. Who was she talking to? Was she fornicating with someone in
the woods?
Morna
. Was she like Morna? His body took an agitated state. He
intended to kill the man who dared to advance his lady. Who thought he was
invincible, and she worried for him? First, he’d kill the man then he would
command that she only worry for him.

Isabel plucked a dagger from the
tree’s bark, strolling back to her place. She finally had time to vent her
frustration, by using her daggers at target practice. For the past few days,
Douglas had kept her busy, keeping him in bed, and dealing with his surly
nature. Finally, she had a few minutes to relax and decided to get out in the
fresh air.

“He thinks he’s invincible.” She
released the dagger; its sharp blade entered the bark at the exact spot on the
tree that she aimed for. “I don’t know why I worry for him,” she muttered in
exasperation. She pulled another dagger from her gown’s seam, and her attention
drew to the sky. A hawk’s shrill shriek sounded overhead. Its wings flapped
slowly as it made its decent, landing on a nearby tree.

His bright yellow eyes watched her
as if he demanded a morsel. She held out her hand, offering the dried meat
she’d saved for him. She enjoyed the daily jaunt to the woods, where she met
her feathered friend.

“There’s my good lad. You’re
anxious today. I have what you want.” Isabel giggled when the hawk nibbled at
her hand.

She startled when Douglas bounded
from the copse of trees that hid her. The hawk took flight, shaking the oak
branch on which he rested. She watched the bird rise then turned to glare at
Douglas. Her glare lessened when she noticed how angry he was. He was indeed
furious, by the set of his stern face.

Isabel almost laughed when he
asked, “Where is he?”

“Where is who?”

“The man I heard you talking to.”

“There’s no man here, Douglas. I
was feeding the hawk.” Isabel pointed to the sky.

Douglas tilted his head. The hawk rose
farther in the sky, its wings flapping madly. The beast shrieked again, and its
echo returned. He walked to the tree, grabbing the dagger embedded in the bark,
and strode back to her, holding out the dagger.

Isabel’s eyes widened, but she
didn’t say anything. She should yell at him for getting out of bed. He’d only
recuperated for a week; surely he needed more time to heal. He did think he was
invincible. She should be angry that he hadn’t listened.

Douglas moved closer, continuing to
hold out the dagger.

Isabel looked up, taking the
instrument from him.

“Throw it.”

She shook her head. Could she? She
wouldn’t dare.

“Just as I thought, you’ve no skill
with that weapon. You were lucky that day in the wood. Why do you have the
dagger, if you don’t know how to use it?”

A flickering of anger crossed her
eyes, before she took aim, flinging the dagger through the air. She’d show him.

He watched it sail past him,
landing on the mark. “Good God, you are skilled. Where’d you learn to throw
daggers like that?”

“My brother taught me.”

“Brother? Which one?”

“Nathaniel, my younger brother, the
favorable one.”

“Your brother taught ye well. I
suppose I shouldn’t anger you, Isabel. You’d do me in, would you not?”

“Of course not, Douglas,” she said
appalled. “I don’t usually use weapons against people. At least, I didn’t intend
to kill that man, but he would have harmed you and I …”

He leaned close to her, but she
stepped backward. Her slippered heel caught a large root that stuck from the
ground, and she almost fell backward. Almost. He caught her arms before she
reached the ground, bringing her body against his.

Both remained still, letting the
silence of the forest envelope them.

“I’m fighting a losing battle,
Isabel.”

“What?”

He pulled her face toward his, and
gave her a gentle kiss. She placed her arms around his waist, leaning into him.
She wanted him to kiss her as he had before, and she opened her mouth, shyly
touching his lips with her tongue. He groaned at her boldness then deepened the
kiss. His hands moved down her body until they rested on her rounded bottom. He
yanked her roughly against himself, continuing to ravish her mouth. She rubbed
his back, slowly moving her hands toward his waist.

Neither heard the hawk’s shrill cry
above them.

Isabel’s mind became incoherent as
he inched her gown from her shoulders. Once her breasts were uncovered, he
lowered his mouth. She held her breath.

He held her breast in an accessible
position, and continued to move his mouth teasingly. He smiled against her
skin, as her drawn-in breath exposed the depth of her enjoyment. She moaned at
the touch of his warm tongue. He continued to heighten her pleasure, by moving
to her other breast. She gasped when his tongue flicked it. She was so
preoccupied by what he was doing that she didn’t noticed he’d lowered her to
the forest floor. He moved his mouth back to hers, and his calloused hand
cupped a soft mound then moved to lower her bodice.

She liked how he made her feel. He
stopped, seemingly taking a moment to settle his unstable desire. When she felt
his hands on her bare legs, inching upward, she whimpered into his mouth. He
smoothed his hand along her leg until he reached the warmth between them.

Isabel pushed his hand away, but he
wasn’t accommodating nor deterred. He tried to kiss her fear away, and she
relaxed against the feeling of him touching her in her most intimate place. The
only thought that occupied her brain was the need to abandon herself to
passion. The urgency called to her, but she took a deep breath, trying to calm
herself.

Douglas stared into her eyes. “I
want to feel you against me.” He began removing his tartan, and was about to
pull it free when he stopped. He looked at her sprawled on the ground then
frowned. He rolled away, sitting up, facing away from her. Isabel stared at his
back. He made her feel so warm and excited, but now she felt cold and recoiled.

“Why did you stop, Douglas?”

“I … shouldn’t have done that. Repair
your gown, Isabel.”

“You d-don’t w-want me?” Her voice
shook.

Douglas flinched at her dejected
tone. “It’s not that I don’t want you, Isabel. You deserve better than my
taking advantage of you in the forest, on the ground, for Christ’s sake. Can ye
forgive me? I feel lower than a snake.” He wouldn’t look at her. He must have
known she’d become upset if he did.

“I do forgive you. You’re such a gentleman,
and I’m not used to …” She didn’t finish, but quietly fixed her gown. Tears
formed, lining her lashes. Isabel didn’t want to cry, but she felt ashamed by
responding so emotionally to his touches.

“Isabel.” Douglas turned, inching
closer. He placed his arm around her and leaned his head against hers. “I
didn’t mean to displease you. I do want you, more than I’ve wanted any other
woman. I must do the honorable thing here. I’ve thought about it and I want to
wed you.”

He lifted her chin, looking into her
eyes. His brown eyes softened his expression. She wasn’t certain his proposal
was sincere. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, making him sigh.

“You want to marry me, Douglas?”

“Aye, damned right I do.”

“What about Rachel? I thought you
were interested in her. You said—”

“Nay, I never wanted her. I was
hasty in dealing with her. You’re the only woman who holds my interest,
cat-eyes.” The last was said in a whisper against her cheek.

“I don’t know, Douglas. I want to
wed you, but I’m not sure if I’m … I’ll have to think on it.” Isabel’s stomach
knotted, she didn’t know how to respond to his proposal.

Douglas’ expression turned grim. “You
don’t need time to assess your feelings. I all ready know what they are, but
I’ll give you all the time you need, as long as you respond with an aye. Don’t
make me wait long, because I don’t know how long I can stand …” He kissed her
quickly, then helped her to her feet.

They walked back to the keep and Isabel
wondered why she’d asked him to give her time. Hadn’t she wanted to marry him? Wasn’t
it her dream? Her desire was finally coming true, and now she felt unsure. Her
heart tensed at the anxiety of explaining why she needed time.

When they reached the keep, Douglas
left her and went inside. Isabel kept walking along the inside of the keep’s
wall. She was deep in thought, and didn’t notice the man following her.

“I suppose I shall marry him. It’s
not as if I’ll receive another offer.” She strolled along the wall. Would he be
dissatisfied that she wasn’t pure? He hadn’t said he loved her. Did that
matter? She tried to reason her decision. She wanted him to love her. Should
she put the question to him? Nay, she shouldn’t. He wanted to marry her, and
that had to be enough for now. Somehow she would get him to love her. She felt
foolish thinking such thoughts.

Isabel turned the corner and slowed
her pace, reproaching herself for denying him an answer. How would she explain
the
incident
? He would understand, wouldn’t he?

A shadow fell across the ground at
her feet, she turned to see a man, but she didn’t recognize him. He wore the
Kerr plaid, but an uneasy feeling surged through her, she pulled a dagger from
her seam. Holding it tightly, she stopped, hoping he would pass by. He shoved
her against the wall, his hand covered her mouth as he tried to grab her hands
and turn her around.

Isabel thrust her dagger at him. He
held her arm, yet she forced it forward with all her might. The man yelled, and
released her when the blade pricked his neck. She vehemently shoved him aside
and ran for the entrance of the keep. When she entered, she flung herself
beside the doorway. Would he follow inside? She peered around the wooden frame
to get a better look.

“Isabel?” Douglas grabbed her arms,
and turned her.

Isabel’s breathing hitched, her eyes
widened with fright.

“What happened? Are you all right?”

“A man … tried to attack me … in
the courtyard. I stabbed him.” She slunk against the wall.

“Cedric!” Douglas roared. “Isabel,
you’re safe now.” He pulled her into his arms and held her. She shook
violently, but he tried to soothe her. She did feel safe, what with Douglas
holding her so tenderly.

Cedric ran inside the hall with his
sworn drawn, and must have heard Douglas’ bellow. It wasn’t their war cry, but
it was close enough.

“What happened to Milady?” Cedric
noticed her state.

“Someone attacked her in the
courtyard. Have the grounds searched at once. What does he look like, Isabel? You’ll
need to tell Cedric so he can find the bastard.”

Isabel’s heart finally slowed to a
normal pace, and she regained her composure. “I didn’t get a good look at his
face, but he wore the Kerr plaid. I noticed that right off.”

“Find him,” Douglas roared. Then he
mouthed,
kill him
! Cedric nodded.

“Come, let me get you a drink. Are
you well enough now?” Douglas held her tightly around the waist, walking her to
the table.

“Aye, I’m well. I stabbed his neck
with my dagger, so he’ll have a wound. He shoved me to the wall, but didn’t say
anything. I don’t know what he wanted. I wasn’t paying attention because I was
thinking about … Well, you know what I was thinking about, and then his shadow
fell across my feet. At first I wasn’t concerned because he wore the Kerr
plaid, but then I had a strange feeling, and pulled out my dagger.” She ceased
her rambling and sighed.

“Stay inside until he’s found.” Douglas
called to his mother when she entered the hall, he relayed what happened. Lady
Kerr’s face reddened, but she tried to be reserved for Isabel’s sake. She took
Isabel to her chamber and told her she’d have a bath sent to her chamber. Lady
Kerr stayed with her until she fell asleep.

Isabel awoke from her nap and took
a long bath, even thought the water had turned cool. She dressed for supper,
taking extra care in dressing, choosing her best garment. Lady Kerr had cleaned
it, and hung it on a wooden peg. The gown was special because Aunt Mabel had
given it to her. Somehow, her aunt received the fabric as a gift and saved it
for her. When she last visited, they spent hours working on it. The gown always
made her feel beautiful when she wore it, and it reminded her of those
wonderful carefree days spent at the Gordon’s. The fabric was a rich dark-green
shade overlaying a light-yellow bliaut.

She combed her hair then fastened a
tie to hold back two braids she fashioned. She secured the clan’s plaid the way
Candace instructed. The muted colors of the brown plaid with its green
interwoven stripes matched the gown. She had no reason to delay, but she felt
awkward because she would have to talk to Douglas about
the incident
. That’s
how she referred to what happened with Nigel—
the incident
. She scolded
herself for lacking courage to face him, and knew she would have to tell him
sooner or later—later sounded good to her.