The Bruised Thistle (The Order of the Scottish Thistle) (7 page)

Seumas yawned and struggled to keep his eyes open. Holding Iseabail, on the other hand, was no struggle at all. Her small bottom rested in his lap and her soft body molded to his chest, her head tucked under his chin. She felt so good in his arms. He wanted to bury his face in her hair and listen to her moans of pleasure when he nibbled her neck. With his free hand, he pushed her hair away from the sensitive area. He wanted to kiss her there, to taste her. She snored. He dropped her hair.

Despite the trouble she had caused him, he was undeniably drawn to her. She made him want what he could not have. In a different life, he might have taken her to wife, and she would have been in his bed pleasuring him instead of traipsing through the woods. It would have been his honor to be her protector. He would also have taken her to task for putting her life and the life of her little brother in peril.

As it was, he had no physical reaction to her. He was better off just seeing her on her way. And if he decided
she
would be better off, he would turn her over to whoever hunted her himself. Intruder or not.

Iseabail awoke to find herself lying on the ground, her brother sleeping in front of her. The light from the fire reminded her of the castle and reignited her fear. For a moment, she believed she had not escaped, but then the memories came rushing back.

The pain in her head had lessened. The pain in her leg had not.

“Oww.” She hissed through her clenched jaw.

Seumas was right there, bending over her. She remembered his gentleness when he had carried her. His calloused hand was warm where it pushed the hair out of her face. “Are ye in great pain?”

“My leg.” She reached toward it, but he gently pushed her down. He scrutinized her wound. She bit her lip to stop the cry of pain his probing fingers caused.

“It is healing well.” He sat on his haunches.

She answered him with a slight nod, glancing at Calum.

Seumas frowned and handed her his water skin. “I do not think ye have to worry about waking yer brother. He sleeps like the dead.”

She propped herself up slowly and accepted the drink. “How did we get here?” She glanced around. “Is it a cave?”

“We had a little adventure. We needed to hide. Yer brother can tell ye when he awakens.”

“You had to carry me then?”

His eyes were dark. “Ye have been very sick. None the worse for wear, though.”

“No. Thank you for your assistance...again.”

“Let us not make a habit of it.” He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. She shivered at a sudden cold draft. “Do ye need another blanket?”

“No. Thank you.”

“Further in the cave,” he pointed toward the darkest corner of their little room, “I found a pool with fresh water and a hot spring.”

“A real hot spring?” Iseabail had only heard of such things.

“Methinks it would be safe for ye to soak in. It may ease the pain.”

Iseabail glanced at her little brother. He turned away from the fire and mumbled something incoherent.

“I will be right here. Come.” Seumas reached out to help her. “Are ye strong enough to stand?”

Slowly, she stood. She smiled at him. “Aye, and the pain in my head is gone.” The throbbing in her calf had lessened, but the thought of putting too much weight on it made her grab his outstretched arm before she fell. “I am afraid I cannot walk without help.”

“No need.” Seumas scooped her up and carried her toward the part of the cave she had not yet seen. He moved stiffly and seemed to hold her less tightly than he had before…but maybe she was wrong—she had been in great pain. Or was he upset with her?

She might have been a feather in his strong embrace, but she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck to feel secure. He looked straight ahead, and she studied his face. There were laugh lines around his eyes and a deep furrow in his brow. His dark eyes darted toward her. He knew she looked at him.

“See anything ye like, then?”

“No. I mean…” Her face was hot. He had sounded irritated. “I did not mean to stare.”

He made a sort of grumbling sound deep in his chest before he abruptly set her down. He reached to help her untie the cloak, but she grabbed at his hands.

“I can do it.”

A fire burned beside the small, dark pool. No light reflected within to give any indication of the steaming water’s depth. She unfastened her cloak, taking in the scene. “How enchanting.”

Seumas took the cloak off her shoulders before she could protest.

Her eyes widened. “The will,” she cried.

Seumas froze where he stood, the cloak hanging from his extended hand. “What?”

“Inside. Please be careful.” She reached for the cloak, and Seumas returned it to her. She quickly fished inside and withdrew the leather packet. “Oh, thank God.” She sighed in relief, holding the paper close to her face.

He looked at her with a question.

She had not meant to reveal so much and nibbled at her lower lip in indecision.

Trust no one.

“What is it?” he finally asked. Perhaps it was the tilt of his head, but she could see doubt on his face. Did he believe she would lie or simply not answer?

She replaced the missive within her cloak, buying time to think. When she handed it back, her decision was made. “It is our only protection against our uncle.”

He started to remove her shoes. The intimate gesture sent a shiver through her, but he tended to the business at hand without so much as a wayward glance. Her toe stuck out through a hole in her hose. Seumas smiled. She smiled at him in return, and, thankfully, it broke the tension. Iseabail wanted to explain, to trust him. He gave her an opening.

“An uncle, is it? Calum referred to him only as the intruder.” Seumas placed her worn shoes beside the cloak.

“My mother died very unexpectedly when I was only eleven. My father, John, died a slow, agonizing death which caused him to become a mere shell of the man he had once been.” She paused and smiled at Seumas through her sadness. “I really come from two worlds. My mother’s clan is not a powerful one, but it has solid alliances that made it impossible for my grandfather, her father, to just allow her to walk away. But she loved my father so. He was powerful in his own right but English, the son of an Earl. When he met my mother, he did not care about any of that.

“He knew he was dying,” she said softly. “He made up a will to protect the clan.”

“So yer father was accepted by the clan?”

“Oh, it was for the love of my mother, to be sure. My grandfather only had the one surviving child. Her younger brothers, along with most of the young men, had all died off, both from natural causes and violence. My grandfather decided to accept their marriage rather than lose her, too. The clan learned to love him. He was a great warrior and very fair minded. Methinks it pained him to turn away from his own family, but he was considered as loyal as any man in the clan and none came against him. They sought his wisdom and his decisions were trusted.”

“So why the will?”

“His father was powerful and not happy to lose his oldest son. At first, the man made all kinds of moves against the Scots to get them to expel my father, but they would have none of it. They respected his decision to become a MacNaughton. That is how he knew he had to write a will that could not be overturned. My grandfather became so incensed at my da leaving that he would have taken any opportunity to get back at us, and what better way than to steal the land that is our lifeblood?

“My uncle came as soon as my father died and took over our lands. He claimed familial rights and now no one can gainsay him unless they want to go against the English king. But, since we have the will, we have heard in the court that we might have a chance. We need to find someone knowledgeable enough to stand against our uncle.”

“But, lass.” His gaze was intent, and he hesitated as if choosing his words carefully. “Why would ye believe ye could leave the protection of yer home and venture out with only a nine-year-old boy to look after ye? That is a bit daft. Did ye not know what danger there would be?”

“I was not supposed to be unprotected.”

“Then where is yer protector now?” His eyes were wide with accusation and his brows nearly touched his hairline.

“My brother, Iain, was coming, too.” She knew she sounded defensive. She could not stand the look of indictment on his face. “After Calum and I got away from the castle, we waited. Iain never came, and we did not dare go back.” She finally glanced away from him. “My uncle would have killed us.”

Seumas rubbed at the bristle on his chin. His eyes narrowed as he seemed to ponder her story. “Ye do not know what happened to yer brother?”

She shook her head. “I had no way of finding out, so we continued looking for assistance. We hoped to be back within a week’s time…with help.”

“That was unbelievably foolish. Ye could have been killed or raped or come to harm in so many different ways.” Despite the intensity of the words, Seumas’s voice stayed quiet. His face unreadable.

She did not know what else to tell him. He did not ask many questions, but he certainly knew who to blame for her predicament. Her. He was right, of course, and it pained her to admit it.

“I have built a fire to keep it warm in here.” Seumas seemed to have learned all he needed to know and dismissed her with a small shake of his head.

“You have thought of everything.” She went along with the change of subject.

“I tried to anticipate, while ye and yer brother snored loud enough to give our location away.”

“We do not snore.” She smiled and stopped herself just short of smacking his chest for the teasing. She feared her hand would linger, feeling for the heartbeat beneath his black tunic. She cleared her throat.

Seumas sat on the floor beside her. Steam rose from the water and even the walls of the cave dripped. He trickled his finger along the top of the water.

“It feels wonderful. Try it,” Seumas encouraged her, and she dipped her hand into the water.

“It is very warm.” She lifted her skirts slightly to look at the injury, flexing her foot to assess the amount of pain. “Is it prudent for me to go in with this?”

“It will be good for yer wound. It will also be good for yer head.” He tapped on the side of her head then stroked her hair back behind her ear. He withdrew his hand abruptly. “Methinks it will help ye feel better.”

Iseabail wanted to take his hand and hold it to her face. She might have turned into it and kissed the palm. Instead, she did nothing. Iseabail’s stomach growled and her eyes widened.

Seumas smiled at her embarrassment. “I will get us some food directly. Can ye get in the water without help?” His gaze was clear and direct, and somewhat intimidating, almost as if he did not want to help her.

“Methinks I can manage. I feel much less shaky.”

Seumas stood and put some wood on the fire. “Then I will leave ye to it.” He strode away without looking back.

Working in stages, Iseabail managed to get her dress up her legs, under her bottom and over her head. She removed her dagger then sat in her chemise and rested. She ran her fingers through the water again then dipped her legs in. It was not deep at all. A natural protrusion from the rock turned out to be the perfect place for her to sit with her body submerged to mid-chest. The water lapped around her, soaking the material, molding it to her. The heat on her body made her groan in appreciation. She ducked under a little more to cover herself and push the water around her entire body.

Unexpectedly, she slipped off the rock and discovered she had actually been on the ledge and that the pool itself was much deeper. She grimaced in pain and grabbed at the ledge. The rocks were coated with a slimy substance that made it near impossible to grasp. Her injured leg ached as she was forced to tread water or drown. Imbecile! Yet again, she would need to call to Seumas for help or die by drowning.

“Seumas!”

She tried not to panic, but the warmth of the water she had enjoyed moments before seemed to squeeze her chest. The heaviness of her soaked chemise tugged her down as if the watery depths would swallow her whole.

“Please, Seumas, I cannot get out.”

Her head ducked under the water, and she clawed at the rock she had been sitting on, barely breaking the water’s surface in time to catch her breath.

“Seumas!”

Seumas paused before leaving the cave. All was quiet. There was no sign of the men who had chased Calum. They had probably just been bored and were making a game of it. Chasing a mere boy, and a boy who did not belong, made it even more fun.

There was no reason to think the guards would really have taken his horse. It belonged to Seumas, after all—the only thing he had taken from his home when he left.

Home.

In his mind’s eyes, he imagined it. The stars twinkling overhead. The sound of water gently lapping the banks along the loch. Longing gripped his heart.

He walked the few feet to where he had set his snare. A fat rabbit swung from the length of the rope. Seumas grabbed its back feet to release the loop. It struggled in his arms.

“Och, now, none of that. Ye shall be a tasty little supper.”

There was a sound from the cave. Seumas turned and listened. Nothing. He took the knife from his belt and secured the animal under his arm. The high-pitched sound came again.

Just a few feet inside the entrance, he realized something was wrong. Calum was rubbing his eyes, awakened by the noise. Seumas heard Iseabail’s cry for help.

He tossed the furry creature to the boy. “Stay here, Calum.”

Iseabail’s head dipped below the water. His heart slammed into his throat. He threw himself down and grabbed where he’d last seen her. Nothing. He felt around under the surface, swinging his arm in a wide arc to cover more area, with no better result. With dripping wet hands, he tore off his boots and tunic. He dropped into the warm water. It was pitch black. No sign of her anywhere.

“Iseabail.” He took a deep breath and went under. Almost immediately, he bumped something floating. He grabbed it and hauled it to the surface.

Iseabail coughed and gasped for air. He held her by the wai
st and pulled them both to the edge. He sat on the rock and held her on his lap, cradling her like a child.

“I kept...” Water came out of her nose and mouth. “...calling you and…” She coughed again. “You didn’t come…”

“Wheesht, little one….shhh.” He wiped the spittle from her mouth. “Ye are fine, lass.”

He stroked her wet hair, rubbing her back with soothing motions. She was calming down, getting control of her crying and breathing more regularly. Her back was smooth under his hand.

She faced him. “I was afraid I would die!” Her warm brown eyes were terrified.

“Nae, lass.” Seumas heard the conviction in his own voice. “Ye will not die. Not today.”

His rubbing shifted to massaging with long, strong strokes. Her breast brushed against his chest with each caress. He closed his eyes. Her scent filled his lungs. She leaned closer, her firm bottom shifting on his lap. Her breath quickened, and he opened his eyes. The fear had left her face, replaced by longing.

She glanced down. He followed her gaze. The soaked chemise hid nothing. It hugged her tantalizing breasts, stretched across her hips, and dipped between her thighs. Her nipples strained against the wet fabric, begging for his touch. He looked long and hard.

“Ye are so lovely.” He dipped his head and rubbed his lips along her cheek.

Her skin was cool. He wanted to press his palm to her breast, kneading it until she warmed from the inside out. Wanted to put his mouth around her nipple and heat it with his breath, sucking it through the rough material. She shifted again on his lap. Her round bottom pressed against him where the proof of his desire should have been evident. There was nothing.

As if he’d had cold water splashed in the face, Seumas immediately came to his senses. He took her hand and rubbed it along the ledge.

“Hold it here.” She grasped the edge of the rock, and he got out of the water.

Distance was necessary to get his frustration in check. He retreated to the other side of the fire. The farther the better. He wanted her, and he had not desired a woman in a long time. It did not matter. Nothing could come of it. The sooner he got away from her, for good, the better for his peace of mind.

The air was cold after the warmth of the water…and her body. And what a luscious body it was. The moan caught in his throat. He turned away from the alluring sight to face the fire.

*****

Iseabail sat
in the warm water, holding the side, and a chill ran down her body. He stood rigidly by the fire with his back to her. She touched her cheek, where she could still feel his lips on her, and closed her eyes. She had wanted him to kiss her, to keep rubbing her back, to hold her against him.

He donned his tunic. She admired his body and the strength it held. Strength like that could protect her from so much. Nobody would be able to touch her without her consent if she had him defending her. She ducked down under the water, only realizing her mistake too late.

“Ohhh!” She lost her grip and slipped further into the water.

He whipped around at her cry and reached her before she got away from the side of the pool. He wrapped his hand around her upper arm and hauled her out.

“Methinks ye have had enough.”

She accepted the blanket he offered and sat shivering. He dropped her gown in her lap, forcing her to look up at him. She searched his face. There was no desire nor did he run his gaze over her body this time
. He merely looked back at her.

“Ye should dress. I’ll get food.” He left.

Confused and disappointed, she closed her eyes and rested her head against the knee of her uninjured leg, reliving the moment his lips had touched her cheek.

Her most treasured dream had always been of marrying a handsome man to share gentle caresses and quiet whispers with. She had wondered about the feel of a man’s lips on hers and had even woken from dreams that left her feeling soft and vulnerable. Lack of understanding did nothing to diminish the longing...until Uncle Henry. She had thought that part of her was dead after what she had been subjected to. Her uncle had kept her a virgin to make the most profitable marriage, but he had found other ways for her to please him. He had made it so no one else would want her. How quickly her innocent dream had come back to life with one look from Seumas’s blue eyes.

“What happened in here?” Calum caressed the ear of a brown rabbit as he walked toward her. “Are you hurt?”

Iseabail tipped her head to hide the tears. “I am fine. Merely shortsighted.”

“He is mad.”

She jerked her head back. “Mad?”

“Did you say something to make him mad?”

“I do not believe so. Mayhap he would prefer to be done saving us.”

“That could very well be.”

She had meant it sarcastically, but Calum’s face was serious. They were awfully needy. She bit at the inside of her lip. What could she do?

Calum lay down along the spring, the rabbit on his chest, and trailed his fingers in the water.

“Take care you do not fall in.”

He turned toward her, his eyes as big as the moon. “Is that what you did? You fell in?”

She wanted to say no. “I suppose. He may see it that way.”

Calum sat and crossed his legs with his head tipped to one side, as if seeking understanding. He nibbled at his lip, confused.

She continued. “I slipped off the slimy rock. It was not my fault.”

“Aye. I am sure it was not.” Calum stood and headed toward the front entrance. “You should get dressed. He has some food he is willing to share.”

“Wait.” Iseabail pulled the gown over her head, grabbed her cloak, and hobbled toward Calum. “How mad is he?”

Calum thought about the answer then yawned. “I would say we are sleeping alone tonight.”

He walked back through the passage. Iseabail stared after him, dumbfounded. What was he talking about? When had they not slept alone?

She hopped on one leg to chase after him and was quickly assaulted by the smell of warm porridge. Her stomach responded with a loud growl and she fairly drooled.

“That smells heavenly.” She settled herself on her cloak, pushing the will to one side.

“It is the best we can do since young Calum here thinks our supper is his new pet.” Seumas did sound grumpy. He plopped the meal onto plates and dropped bannocks beside each. “I do not know how long we can go without any meat, but my guess is we may not make it till morning.”

Calum raised his eyebrows at Iseabail and mouthed the word “grumpy” before settling next to her with his plate.

Seumas leaned against the far wall and shoved his bannock into his mouth.

The food was delicious and Iseabail had seconds. Her leg felt much better. She sighed and smiled. “Thank you for feeding us, Seumas.”

He nodded but his dark eyes pierced her with accusations. He spoke little as he got up to poke the fire. The way he stabbed at the burning embers, she started to believe they had done something to personally affront him.

“Is there a problem?” she asked.

He grunted in answer. “Calum, be a good lad and take care of the cleaning up, will ye?”

With his rabbit tucked securely inside his tunic, the boy did as he was asked.

Seumas waited until he had left them alone before speaking. “I am interested to know why ye and yer brother have been living in our woods.”

She tamped down her fear. “I told you we were hiding.”

“Aye, but ye failed to mention from whom.”

“It did not seem wise to broach the subject with you. Suffice to say we needed to hide.”

His lopsided smile was condescending. “Aye. Ye are quite a source of wisdom, are ye not?”

Her face heated. She had made mistakes, but she had tried her best. Tears welled, but she pushed them back. “I am wise enough. I know how to run a castle, I know how to stock supplies to last a winter, I know how to work with the villagers so that their payments are on time but they are not lacking. I know a lot.” She bit her lip to keep it from quivering. “I know what I was brought up to know. The rest I have had to figure out.”

She tried to stand by herself. She wanted to walk through that opening and never look upon his handsome face again. He stood over her with an outstretched hand she really did not want to take.

“Do not be prideful besides.” His voice was quieter.

She took his hand. Heat charged up her arm. She pulled back when she was standing. “I have done my best.”

Hands on his hips, Seumas seemed to search her face. “Aye. Perhaps ye have. Lady of the Manor, were ye?”

“I am the MacNaughton’s only daughter.”

“And yet ye are in hiding.”

She exhaled in exasperation. “From my uncle.”

“And yer father?”

“He is dead.”

“But did yer uncle…?”

“Oh, no, he would never kill his own brother. I do not believe so.” She pondered the possibility. Certain poisons caused a slow death like her father’s. “Surely not.” She spoke with less conviction.

“Know him well, do ye?”

She snorted. Too well. “I have told you why we did what we did.”

“Aye, but would ye be telling me the truth, I wonder.”

She would lie to him if needs be. She could not very well deny that now.

“Ye have taken good care of the lad.”

“Well, thank you for that.” She tried to hobble to the door, but he scooped her up into his arms instead. “Oh, please, you cannot keep doing this.”

He squeezed her gently into silence. “I do not want yer leg to cramp or start to fester.”

Calum stood in the entryway. “Did she take the herbs I brought for her?”

Seumas’s heart beat against her side. She held his steady gaze. He did not look like he was going to put her down anytime soon. “What herbs, Calum?”

“The ones I had to go into the castle for.”

She gasped, and narrowed her eyes at Seumas in accusation. “What? You sent him back to the castle? Knowing we were in hiding?”

Seumas raised his brow but did not answer.

“You were dying. You had a terrible fever,” Calum piped up.

“Aye, ye did.” Seumas’s voice was quiet.

“You were so near to death I had to sneak back into the castle and make my way to the stable. Then Rob and I got into the kitchen and told the cook what we needed.”

Iseabail kept her gaze on Seumas while Calum told the story. She could not believe he would put her brother at risk like that.

“It was quite an adventure,” Calum chirped. “Then they called after me ‘thief, thief’ and chased me when I took off on Seumas’s horse.”

Seumas smiled at Calum. “Ye did fine, lad.”

Calum came to stand beside the man, rubbing the long ears of his pet. “Did you give her the herbs?”

“Nae. I did not need them.” Seumas pierced Iseabail with his look. “I was able to get the fever down by other means.”

Calum frowned and looked between them. “How?”

“I took her to the river.”

“Oh.” Calum nodded, satisfied with the answer. “I will go out and find some food for my rabbit, if you think it safe.”