Rowan's Lady (11 page)

“Castle
Áit na Síochána
?” Arline murmured.
“Ye mean to take me to yer home?” This was not going as planned. Of course,
nothing this night had gone as she had planned, why should getting to the fork
in the road be any different?

“Aye, we do.”

“But I only need to get to the end of the road, me
laird. Ye needn’t take me to yer home.”

Rowan stopped and turned to look at her. “I’ll no
leave ye alone, lass. I offer ye our protection. Ye kept me daughter safe and
well cared for.” For that alone, he owed her more than he could ever repay.
“Now, do no’ worry it. We’ll be safe on Graham lands in a few days. We can make
plans fer ye then.”

She had to think of something and fast. “But there
is no need fer that, me laird,” Arline told him as he began leading her away
again.

“No need?” Rowan said, sounding perplexed. “Have
ye somewhere else to go this night? Do ye have someone else to take ye home?”

Arline swallowed hard. “Well, actually, I do me
laird,” she told him.

“Ye do?” Rowan asked, sounding as though he did
not believe her. “And who, pray tell, is that?”

Arline cleared her throat and pushed her shoulders
back. “One of Blackthorn’s men has offered to help me.” Until she said it
aloud, she hadn’t realized just how absurd it sounded.

Rowan was silent for a short time. “Is he yer
lover?”

Arline was suddenly quite thankful for the
darkness for in it, he could not see her burn red from head to toe. She was
stunned by his frankness. “Nay!” she said, astonished. “I have no lover.” How
dare he accuse her of such a thing.

“Then why do ye trust him?”

There was no way to answer that honestly. She
stammered, searching for the right words. “He seems to be an honest man. He
stopped Garrick from killin’ me this night.”

“So, this man, he’s been yer protector this past
year?” Rowan asked. “He’s defended ye against yer husband?”

Well, not exactly, but she couldn’t admit that to
Rowan. Until tonight, she had believed she was completely alone, without a soul
to call friend. But tonight, for whatever reason, Archie had finally stepped
forward. Though he hadn’t actually admitted to being one of the shadow men, she
had to assume he was, at the very least, one of their allies.

Rowan waited for her to answer. Even in the
darkness he could tell that she was mulling over an appropriate answer. He had
no time to spend arguing. She may not have been lying outright, but something
told him that she was holding back. Mayhap she lied simply because she did not
trust him any more than she trusted any other man. 

“Lass, I give ye me word that I and me men will
protect ye. I’ll no’ let anyone harm ye. I swear it.”

Arline soon realized he was not going to give in.
His honor would prevent him from leaving her here alone. She decided it would
make more sense to trust Rowan and his men. Though she had not seen Daniel and
Frederick in many years, she did know them to be men of high moral character
and honor. She could not say the same for Archie.

 “We must hurry lass. Someone might soon realize
that three of their men are missin’, and if that be the case, then these woods
will be filled with Blackthorn men.”

Fear jumped into her belly and danced around. She
hadn’t thought of that. It had been difficult enough to hide from Gunther. Had
Rowan not been there to help…she found the thought as terrifying as she did
repulsive.

Aye, Rowan could very well take her to the spot
that she and Archie had agreed upon earlier. But what if he could not get to
her in time? What if the woods were suddenly filled with men that
did
wish
her harm?

“Verra well, me laird,” she whispered. “I thank ye
kindly fer yer offer.”

Rowan felt some measure of satisfaction in her
answer. He believed he’d been correct that she was simply afraid of him and his
men. And who could blame her?

“Good, now, mind yer step,” he said as he took her
hand and began to lead her away. “Our horses be no’ far from here.”

Arline remained silent and followed close behind
Rowan. If Archie were in fact one of the shadow men, it would not take long for
him to find her. A new sense of dread settled in her stomach. Much had happened
these many years. There was nothing to say that the shadow men still worked to
protect her or Scotland, as had been their sworn duty those many years ago. She
didn’t even have proof that the shadow men still existed.

The further she walked away from the Blackthorn
keep and Archie, the better she felt about her decision. There was just
something about Archie that did not sit well in her stomach, something she
could not explain. Her instincts did not warn her against following Rowan,
Daniel or Frederick. Nay, instead, she felt an overwhelming sense of peace. She
would follow that peace and see where it lead her.

Archie cursed under his breath, doing his best not
to panic. Garrick had refused to let Archie out of his sight for a good hour
after he and Ona had exchanged their vows. He could only surmise Garrick had
done it because he was still angry that Archie had come to Lady Arline’s aid
earlier, had kept him from killing her.

As soon as Garrick left to enjoy what remained of
his wedding night, Archie slipped away. His plan was simple: he would hide the
child in one of Arline’s trunks. He would lie to anyone who asked, telling them
the trunk was filled with gifts for a nonexistent lass who lived nearby.

Archie had endeared himself to most of
Blackthorn’s men. None would question him. He would be able to leave, with the
child, and as promised, he would meet Lady Arline before dawn.

He hadn’t arrived in time.

The child was gone. The pillow was the only clue
left that someone had taken her. But whom? He knew it hadn’t been Lady Arline,
for the only thing she had on her person when he escorted her out of the keep
was her satchel. The child was far too big to fit inside that.

Had Garrick ordered someone to take her? Nay, he
doubted that. None of Garrick’s men would have tucked a pillow under the
blankets. If not them, then who?

He couldn’t very well ask about the castle. To
raise the alarm now would be the same as issuing a death warrant for Lady
Arline. Garrick would call all his men to arms to search for her. There would
be no way to protect her from all of Garrick’s men.

So he left the keep on horseback not long after
discovering the child was missing. He had to get to Lady Arline. Her safety was
his main priority.

Soon afterward he had come upon three rider-less
horses that had been left along the side of the road. Bloody hell! Those were
Blackthorn horses, no doubt left by Gunther and whoever else the man had
enticed to help him carry out Garrick’s orders.

Anger rose as he left his own horse beside the
road and entered the forest. Mayhap they hadn’t killed the lady yet. Either
way, he’d kill any and all who had touched her.

It was the sound of tree frogs speaking to each
other that first drew his attention. Anyone else may have thought nothing of
the sounds the forest made at night, but Archie could recognize that those
weren’t real tree frogs talking to one another.

Carefully, he made his way through the dense
woods, listening, praying, hoping he was not too late. Not far from the road,
he found one man dead. A quick inspection told him it was one of Blackthorn’s
men. Had Lady Arline managed to kill him? The man’s throat was sliced so deeply
it nearly decapitated him. Nay, Archie doubted Lady Arline had the strength to do
such a thing. But who?

He trekked further into the woods, listening to
the tree frogs. They seemed to be coming from the east. Silently, he headed in
that direction, doing his best not to give away his own position. Who knew who
else might be in the woods?

Very soon, he came upon another dead body, slumped
against a tree. Another of Garrick’s men, stabbed through the gut and his
throat cut. It made the hairs on the back of Archie’s head stand at full
attention. Whoever else was in these woods knew how to kill a man.

He kept walking, searching, looking for any sign
of Lady Arline. Damn, what he wouldn’t give for a bit of moonlight! Sweat
trickled down his back as he made his way along, ducking under low lying
branches and going around large old trees.

Soon, he came upon Gunther. A very dead Gunther,
laying on the ground near a row of thick bramble bushes. Like the others, his
throat had been cut. Blood from the gaping wound was still wet. He’d not been
dead long. ’Twas then that he heard the voices.

Creeping closer, he heard Lady Arline whispering.
She did not sound as though she were distressed. He strained his ears to listen
and thought he recognized the man’s voice. When he heard the man speak of
Castle
Áit na Síochána
, Archie breathed a sigh of relief. Castle
Áit
na Síochána
belonged to Rowan Graham. It had to have been Rowan who took
the child.

Archie smiled into the darkness, admiring Rowan’s
ability to not only get into the Blackthorn keep undetected, but he had also
managed to get his daughter out. Rowan would have made a fine shadow man,
Archie thought. He would have done the brethren quite proud.

He left them then, as quietly as he had arrived.
Lady Arline would be in very good hands amongst the Grahams. Out of harms way,
safe, protected. It would allow Archie time to continue his mission.

They had ridden like the devil was chasing them.
And there was a good possibility that he was. Once Garrick learned that Lily
was missing or the dead bodies of his men were discovered, all hell would
undoubtedly break loose. Arline had no desire to be anywhere near Garrick or
his men when that happened.

The pain in her ribs was beginning to subside. She
no longer wished to die in order to be free from it. Nay, it had lessened to a
more tolerable aching blended with a touch of nausea. The nausea intensified
each time Rowan urged their steed to leap over a small ditch or large felled
tree.

Riding across the countryside brought back a flood
of memories of her time with the Clan MacDougall. Daniel had been among the men
to help take Arline to Stirling Castle. This ride was much like the one she had
experienced seven years ago. Jumping over felled trees, racing through icy cold
streams, through valleys, and narrow tracks that wound their way through
mountains.

The only difference this time was that she was in
a good deal of pain and did not have her own horse. Nay, she rode perched in
front of Rowan.

Rowan. The man whose image had been burned into
her mind all these years. The man who had invaded her dreams far too many times
to count, more than she cared to admit.

His arms were just as strong and warm as she had
dreamt they would be. His chest, just as hard and massive as she had
envisioned. And he was just as beautiful as she had remembered, mayhap even
more so.

Suppressing the desire to rest her head against
his chest had been futile. Before dawn broke across the horizon, she had
succumbed to the exhaustion and pain. It was not a blissful, comfortable sleep
she experienced. She dozed off and on, jolted back to her senses every time
they leapt across an obstacle.

Why on earth did they have to jump like this? Why
could they not simply trot across the land, taking their time to gently glide
over the hills or through the streams? The answer was quite simple. Garrick.
They could not slow down, no matter how badly she hurt. The risk of Garrick
catching up to them was far too great.

Arline’s time with Garrick Blackthorn left no
doubt that he
would
seek retribution for Rowan taking back his daughter
and for the men left dead on the forest floor. It wasn’t a matter of honor with
Garrick, it was arrogance and his warped sense of justice. He felt the rest of
the world should all should bow in his presence and worship the ground upon
which he trod.

The desire to live far outweighed the desire to
slow their pace. There would be time to sleep later.

The morning sun had just begun to rise when the
group made their way to yet another winding twisting road that made its way
around a small mountain.

When Rowan abruptly slowed their pace to a slow
walk, Arline made the mistake of opening her eyes. They were walking along a
cliff with barely enough room for a man to walk, let alone these large horses!
It was dizzying androgen nauseating to look down.

Lord almighty, she was terrified of heights! She
kept her face buried in Rowan’s chest with her eyes closed tightly. She
clutched his tunic with both hands and prayed they would not fall down the
cliff. She wasn’t ready to die just yet. Mayhap in forty or fifty years, but
not today, and not like this.

Rowan chuckled into her hair. “What be the matter,
lass?” he asked.

She shook her head against his chest. She was very
close to throwing up. To do so would startle the horse, something she wished to
avoid at all costs. The thought of the horse startling and the subsequent
plummet to her death did nothing to help settle her stomach.

Rowan chuckled again. Apparently, he took some
amusement with her distress. If she were not so terrified at the moment, she
could have hit him. Why do men laugh at a woman’s fear? She certainly would not
laugh at him were the roles reversed.

He took note of her trembling and felt guilty for
laughing. He cleared his throat and did his best to apologize. “Sorry, lass. I
did no’ mean to upset ye. We’ll be off the cliff verra soon.”

She didn’t necessarily like his choice of words
and worried he may have brought them bad luck by wording it thusly. She
clutched his tunic tighter and continued to pray.

“Wheesht, lass,” Rowan whispered. “All will be
well. I’ve ridden this road many a time.”

Arline took some measure of encouragement with
that fact. “How many times?”