Rowan's Lady (10 page)

It had been years since she had thought of the men
in the shadows or of Robert Stewart, the great steward of Scotland. She had
supposed Robert Stewart had forgotten all about her and his promise of
protection should she need it. Honestly, she could not remember the last time
she had looked into the darkness and wondered if one of Robert Stewart’s men
were there watching over her.

Why now? Why after all these years had one
suddenly unveiled himself to her? She had nearly been killed seven years ago
when she had helped prove the innocence of two men, men she had never met. She
could not in good conscience allow the two men to hang for crimes she
knew
they had not committed. She had helped because Carlich had asked her and
because she knew she could not have lived with herself if she didn’t.

And now here she was seven years later, walking
down a road in the pitch black of night, cast out, alone, cold and terrified.
Arline wondered if Garrick would have acted differently had she not begged and
pleaded to stay to take care of Lily. Would he have given her an escort back to
Ireland? She supposed it did not matter for she could not change what had happened.

She stumbled again for the fourth time and fell
forward into a large puddle of mud. It soaked through her skirt and chemise.
Cursing Garrick to the bowls of hell as she pulled herself to her feet, she
wiped mud from her hands as best she could on her cloak. She imagined she’d be
covered head to toe in mud before she reached the fork in the road.

Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her satchel and
moved forward.

So focused on not tripping and falling again, Lady
Arline did not hear the men on horseback approaching until they were but a few
feet away from her.

She spun around in time to see three men on three
large horses heading right for her. Caught unaware and completely by surprise,
she had very little time to react. She dropped her satchel, picked up her
skirts and ran as fast as she could, heading toward the forest.

She was at the edge, just steps away from jumping
into the dense line of trees when one of the men jumped from his horse and gave
a quick pursuit. Before she could run and hide in the forest, he had an arm
wrapped about her waist and had lifted her off her feet.

Surprised and terrified, Arline let out a scream
as she kicked her feet, struggling to get out of the man’s tight hold. He
tightened his grip around her waist and laughed at her.

“Settle down ye wench!” a familiar voice spoke in
her ear before he clamped his hand over her mouth. He pulled her deeper into
the woods before calling out to his partners.

“I have her, lads!” he shouted and laughed again,
dragging her further away from the road.

Arline knew that voice. Gunther.

She knew his intent.

Arline continued to kick and pound at his arms
with her fists. Her actions seemed to urge him on more than they did to
convince him to let her go. Her heart pounded against her breastbone and blood rushed
in her ears.

Gunther laughed in her ear again. “Ye be a
fighter, aye? I like that in a woman,” he told her. “But I canna figure out why
ye be fightin’. Ye’ve no’ had a man betwixt yer legs the whole time ye were
married to me laird. One would think ye’d be ready fer it.”

The thought of Gunther having his way with her was
revolting. Had he not had a hand over her mouth, he would have received an
earful.
Over my dead body!
She screamed in her mind.

He would have to kill her first.

Rowan saw the men approaching Lady Arline before
she did. His first thought was to call out to her, to not only warn her but to
draw the men away from her. In the end, the bastards had moved so quickly there
was no time to do either.

They had retrieved their horses and were making
their way silently along the edge of the forest when they first caught a
glimpse of Lady Arline walking -- stumbling was more like it -- in the same
direction they were heading. Rowan and his men were about to make their
presence known when they heard pounding of hoof beats heading their way.

Rowan jumped from his horse, followed quickly by
Daniel and Frederick. Dirks were drawn as they silently yet quickly made their
way toward Lady Arline and the men who surrounded her.

In the span of a heartbeat, Arline had decided she
hadn’t gone through all she had gone through in her life only to end up raped
and dying in the cold dirt of a forest floor. She’d fight these men tooth and
nail before she would allow them to do her any harm.

She went limp in Gunther’s arms, pretending she
had fainted. She slumped toward the ground. Gunther laughed as he bent slightly
at the waist, adjusted his grip around her and started to haul her back up. It
was just what Arline needed.

As soon as he bent, she planted her feet firmly on
the ground and lunged backward. The back of her skull landed hard against
Gunther’s lips and nose, catching him completely off guard. He groaned and let
loose his grip enough that Arline could fall away.

She landed on hands and knees. She took one fast
breath, pushed herself up and ran.

Gunther was momentarily dazed. He covered his face
with his hand and felt the blood oozing from his nose. His nose throbbed
painfully, his eyes watered, making it quite difficult them to focus. He cursed
out loud at the darkness, scanning the woods for a glimpse of her.

A murderous rage coursed over him as he let out a
low, deep growl. He’d find her and kill her if it was the last thing he did.

It was too dark to see exactly where she was
going. Her heart pounded and her chest heaved as she raced through the trees.
She could hear Gunther yelling and cursing as he crashed through the brush.
Fear of dying kept her moving forward no matter how badly her ribs screamed in
protest.

Running as fast as the uneven terrain would allow,
with her arms out before her, she pushed through low lying branches. Soon, the
brush and trees were so thick she could barely make her way through them. She
veered to her right, trying to find her way through the darkness, hoping for an
opening that would allow her to run faster.

Gunther continued to yell and holler, making
threats to cut her throat once he found her. She did not doubt that he would
make good on his threats. His voice echoed off the trees and made it difficult
for her to tell exactly where he was. One moment he sounded as if her were just
steps away and in the next, he sounded as if he were on the other side of the
forest. It rattled her nerves not knowing where he was.

Soon she was covered in sweat and the pain in her
ribs intensified. Still, she ran and stumbled and fought her way through the
thick brambles and bushes. Arline came upon some very thick, dense bushes.
Mayhap she could crawl inside and hide until dawn. Fully believing Archie would
wait for her at the fork in the road, she decided hiding made the most sense.
Mayhap Gunther would give up his pursuit of her in the interim.

On her hands and knees, she began to make her way
through the bushes. Branches pulled at her skirts and cloak as if they too were
trying to capture her. A thick branch scratched along her forehead as she
fought her way through.

Sweat dripped into her eyes and stung at the cut
along her forehead. She wiped her face on her shoulder, fighting back tears of
frustration and fear. She wanted only to get far enough into the thicket that
she could hide and wait out Gunther’s search.
Just a little further
, she
tried to encourage her fearful heart.
Just a little further and ye can rest.

Just a little further ended up being a dreadful
mistake.

Rowan had seen what Arline had done to Gunther’s
nose. He couldn’t help but feeling a bit of pride toward the woman. She was
certainly proving to be a woman of strength and heart. He could admire that.

He and his men had been just a few feet away when
Arline rammed the fool’s head with her own. Rowan sent his men off to take care
of Gunther and his friends while he went in search of Arline.

Several times he stopped in order to listen. The
rustle of leaves and skirts were barely discernable, but discernable nonetheless.
He had jumped the row of bushes that Arline was crawling through. The bushes
stood along a gulley. At its bottom lay the stream that wound its way through
the forest.

He stopped once to listen and could hear her
panting and cursing under her breath as she made her way through the bramble.
If she were not careful, Gunther would hear her. Worse yet, she’d tumble into
the gulley and likely break her neck before she rolled down into the stream.

He crouched low and waited for her to finish
making her way through the bushes and prayed for her to move more quietly.

Arline felt the rush of cool night air hit her
skin, realizing a moment too late that she had climbed out of the bushes. Her
intent had been to make her way to the middle and hide. She cursed under her
breath and was about to turn around and go back when a hand clamped over her
mouth and a large arm wound its way around her waist. Her back landed against
the hard wall of a man’s torso.

In the next moment, she felt her body being pulled
to the ground.
Mother Mary, no!
Her mind shouted. She struggled against
his hold and began to kick her legs.

“Wheesht, lass!” A voice whispered in her ear.
“’Tis me, Rowan, Lily’s da! I beg ye to be still!”

Relief washed over her. She ceased to struggle but
her heart continued to pound. It was quite difficult to breathe with his hand
over her mouth and the pain shooting in her ribs.

As soon as Rowan felt her relax a bit, he slowly
removed his hand from her mouth. In a very low whisper he warned her that
Gunther was not far. “Gunther,” he whispered against her ear, “be close.”

Arline took slow deep breaths and prayed no one
could hear them. Moments later, she heard a great rustling of leaves. Gunther.
He was making no attempts to be quiet. “I ken ye be here ye whore!” he shouted.
“Ye can run, but ye can no’ hide! When I find ye, I’m going to strip ye naked
and have my way with ye!”

Had Rowan not been holding her she would have run.
But he was there and she knew, instinctively or hopefully, that he would not
let anyone, least of all Gunther, bring her harm.

Gunther was not far. Arline could hear him just on
the other side of the bush row. She thought she heard him give pause, and she
could imagine him looking about, listening.

 “Ye ken ye want it as bad as me, ye wench! Och! I
ken ye canna wait to feel me crawl betwixt yer thighs and--”

His words were suddenly cut short. A moment later,
Arline heard a distinct thud reminiscent of something or some
one
falling
to the ground. Confusion settled over her before being replaced with fear. Had
he somehow seen her and Rowan lying on the ground? Was he preparing to climb
through or over the row of bushes?

A moment or two passed as she strained her ears to
listen. All she could hear over her racing heart was the sound of tree frogs
and crickets. Rowan kept a gentle yet protective grasp around Arline as he
imitated the tree frogs.

Arline was afraid to move, to breathe, to make a
sound. They lay there on the cold, damp forest floor, waiting, but for what,
she was not certain. As the moments passed, Arline began to wonder if Rowan
hadn’t taken a hit to his noggin. She prayed her assumption was incorrect as he
continued his conversation with the tree frogs.

She was about to inquire if he was well when two
large men approached. It was all she could do to remain calm for she could not
make out their faces.

“We got them, Rowan,” Daniel said in a hushed
tone.

“The whoresons be dead,” Frederick added.

Arline could feel the tension leave Rowan’s body
at the same time it left her own. Rowan sighed, relieved, before he loosened
his hold on her waist. “Thank God,” Rowan said as he pushed himself to his
feet. He extended a hand to Arline and helped her to her own. “How fare ye
lass?” he asked, sounding quite concerned for her.

Arline wasn’t sure how to answer that question.
How am I? I’ve been beaten, kicked, thrown out of me home, chased down the road
and then through the forest by three despicable men. My ribs ache, my legs
hurt, I’ve got bruises on top of bruises and scratches. I’m covered with mud,
sweat, tears and blood. How the bloody hell do ye think I am?

Instead of voicing her honest answer, she lied.
“I’m well, thank ye.” ’Twould do no good to tell the truth, for there was
nothing to be done about it.

She felt Rowan’s hand reach out and take a gentle
hold of her arm. “We must hurry, lass. There may be more men about.”

Arline stood still, refusing to follow. “Hurry? To
where?” She had to get to the fork in the road. She had to get to Archie.

“With us, of course,” Rowan said. “We canna leave
ye here alone.”

While she could certainly appreciate the fact that
he had no desire to leave her alone, in the middle of heaven only knew where,
she was torn. Seven years ago, she had been sworn to secrecy. On her life and
her honor, she had sworn never to mention the men in the shadows. It was
vitally important that those men’s existence remain undisclosed.

How on earth could she explain it to Rowan without
divulging the truth of the matter?

“Lass, we
must
go, now,” Rowan urged her to
follow.

Blindly, numbly she allowed him to lead her away.
Perhaps a partial truth would work. “Me laird,” she whispered to him as he lead
the way through the darkness. “If ye could take me east, to where the fork
begins, I would be most appreciative.”

Rowan paused, but only for the briefest moment.
“Nay, we’ll no’ abandon ye, lass. Ye can go with us, to Castle
Áit na
Síochána
,” Rowan explained. His pride was wounded. How could she think he’d
just leave her on the road, especially after what had just happened? Did she
think him no better than the Blackthorn men?