The Chase (13 page)

The men definitely were not. Their eyes were wide and hungry as they watched the women
swing their swords overhead, the movement seeming to lengthen their torsos, drawing out
their already flat stomachs and, lifting their firm breasts. It was a hypnotic sight, even
for the men battling them it would seem, for either they were completely unskilled
warriors or they were too distracted by the women to fight properly. Seonaid and Aeldra
had no trouble taking advantage of their distracted state. Seonaid dispatched the first
man she engaged within three blows; Aeldra was not far behind. Then both women turned to
the other four men on the edge of the woods.

The men looked so entranced at the sight of the two naked women facing them, Blake
half-expected them to drop their swords and pledge their fealty. One even had a silly grin
on his face, as if he'd wandered into a bevy of bathing beauties offering to bed him
rather than behead him. But what they would have done would never be known, for the
silence of the clearing was suddenly broken by the snapping of twigs and the thunder of
footsteps as a great herd of beasts crashed through the woods toward them. Seonaid and
Aeldra immediately backed away from the four men, forcing Blake to back up with them. They
kept their swords pointed at the four they had yet to finish, but warily noted the
direction the sound was coming from as they gave themselves room to be able to fight off
attackers from either direction.

When Little George charged out of the woods with Rolfe and a passel of knights on their
heels, Blake realized that Helen's scream must have been heard. Relaxing, he turned his
attention back to the attackers even as the women did, only to find the spot where they
had been was now empty. They had fled during the distraction and had even taken their
wounded with them.

“Oh, dear.”

The soft murmur of dismay drew Blake's gaze back to their would-be rescuers, who were all
now standing still, staring at the naked women, just as their attackers had. Bishop
Wykeham was the speaker, and even he seemed unable to tear his gaze away from the sight.
Blake scowled and moved toward the group of men, but couldn't resist glancing back over
his shoulder as he did. The sight that met his gaze gave him sympathy for the other men.
The women were still frozen in battle stance, legs slightly parted, swords up and at the
ready, pale skin pulled tight over taut muscles. They could have been Roman statues. They
were a beautiful sight to behold.

And everyone was beholding them.

“We were attacked,” he announced grimly, his voice sharp enough to draw every eye his way,
though some came very reluctantly, he noted. “They ran off as you came stomping into the
clearing.”

Silence met his announcement, but Blake couldn't help noticing the way every man's eyes
kept slipping past him, then back, then to the women again.

“What are you waiting for?” he snapped with irritation, snatching his sword from Little
George. The man had obviously noted its presence by the fire and had the foresight to
bring it to him when they'd heard the scream. “Search the woods. They cannot have traveled
far while they are dragging two wounded men with them.”

“Two dead men,” Seonaid corrected, and Blake glanced over his shoulder again as she
relaxed her stance and moved unhurriedly toward her clothes. “At least mine was dead.”

“Mine too,” Aeldra announced, following her in the same relaxed fashion.

Seonaid nodded, as if she'd expected as much, then said, “Now, if ye've all done enough
gawkin', could ye no go away an' let us dress?”

Blake forced his eyes up from watching her as she walked and cleared his throat as he
turned back to the men. “Come. Move back into the woods and give them privacy.”

“Do you think we should?” Rolfe asked. “What if the attackers have not gone far? They
could return.”

It was a valid point, but Blake couldn't help noticing the way Rolfe's gaze kept
skittering out toward the loch where Sister Helen still huddled. She had moved closer to
shore, but had apparently dropped to her knees because the water covered her up to her
neck. She might have thought she was preserving her modesty, but the water was extremely
clear and they could see a good deal of her upper body even underwater.

Blake had never imagined a bride of God in the nude, but he also would never look at one
again in the same light. God's toes, becoming a nun did not leave a woman a dried-out
husk, as he had always imagined. Sister Helen had as lush a figure as any of the women at
court. It was as beautiful in its own way as Seonaid's.

“We will stay close enough to hear if you shout,” he announced to the women, forcing his
gaze away and gesturing for Rolfe and Little George to back off into the woods. The bishop
was already walking away, and the other men had heeded his orders and headed off to look
for the men who might still be milling about in the forest. Though he would not have been
surprised to hear that they were searching very close at hand, close enough to keep an eye
on the women as well.

“Oh, aye. Thanks fer that,” Seonaid said dryly in response to his words. “Ye were ever so
helpful the first time they attacked, it does my heart good to know yer near enough to
help again should they return.”

Blake winced, but merely sighed and ushered Rolfe and Little George ahead of him.

“He had no sword,” Aeldra murmured as she snatched up her shift to pull it on.

Seonaid grimaced as she tugged her shortened shift over her head. Her cousin had ever been
fair and was quietly rebuking her for embarrassing her betrothed with her parting words.

“He had no sword an' grabbed up a stick to try to help us fight,” the woman persisted.

“Aye, I ken,” Seonaid admitted reluctantly. She'd almost yelled at him to get the hell out
of the way and let them get on with it. She'd been a bit distracted, trying to keep an eye
out to be sure the man didn't come bulling into the group of men with his branch.
Fortunately, he had appeared as dumbstruck by the scene as their attackers were. Though
she would never admit it, it had been terribly embarrassing to be caught unclothed and
then be forced to battle that way. But it had also been rather handy in one respect, as it
had clearly given them the advantage. Seonaid wasn't foolish enough to imagine it was
their advanced skill with the sword that had so enthralled everyone. Nay, it was the fact
that they'd been naked that had set the men back on their heels. Most women would have at
least pulled on their shifts before storming into the fray. Their lack of modesty had no
doubt dismayed the men as much as the sight of them had seemed to mesmerize them. But when
it came to battle, who gave a damn what you were wearing? It was definitely not a time to
consider fashion.

Seonaid was aware of Aeldra's continued stare as she pulled on her braies, then picked up
her plaid. She tried to ignore the eyes boring into the back of her head as she gave the
material a shake, then laid it on the ground to pleat, but found it impossible. It didn't
help that her own conscience was pricking her for the unfair insult.

“Oh, all right,” she gave in with irritation. “I'll apologize to him later.”

Aeldra's mouth quirked at the reluctant words, but she knew her too well and asked, “When?”

“Later. When the time is right.” Seonaid straightened her shoulders bullishly as she
answered. She would not be pushed into giving a date and time for the apology. She'd give
him one when she bloody well felt like it. Of course, Aeldra was kin, carried the same
blood, and could be just as bullish. Fortunately, she didn't get a chance to force the
issue. Helen had made her way out of the water and now rushed over to join them, snatching
up her own clothes along the way.

“Seonaid, we have to go,” Helen blurted, tugging her shift on as she spoke.

Seonaid paused in her pleating to peer up at the other woman with surprise. “Go where?”

“Anywhere. Away from here before those men return.”

“They'll no return, Helen,” Aeldra said reassuringly. “An' do they, we'll take care o'
them again.”

Seonaid wanted to agree with her cousin, but there was something about the woman's panic
that gave her pause. “Did ye recognize them, Helen?”

“Aye.” The redhead bit her lip. Her gaze moved around the trees surrounding them, as if
expecting them to come running out of the trees again at any moment. “They were Camerons.”

Seonaid expelled her breath on a sigh, then her mouth went firm and she turned back to her
plaid and began pleating more quickly. Despite the way her mind was now racing, she sensed
when Aeldra moved away to collect her own clothes.

“I thought I recognized one of the men when we passed them this morning,” Helen added,
anxiety heavy in her voice. “But we rode by so quickly, I was not sure.”

“This mornin'?” Aeldra asked as she returned with her clothes and began to don them.

“Aye. Do you not recall the party we passed on the road this morning? There were six of
them; three dark-haired, two blond, and a redhead, just as these men were. They moved to
the side to make way for us. I thought I recognized one of them from Cameron's men, but I
did not get a good look and, in any case, I was not close enough to see any of them very
clearly,” she admitted. “It must have been them, though. They must have recognized me and
followed us.”

Seonaid raised her head and took in the agitation in Helen's jerky movements as she tugged
on her clothes. Seonaid had a vague recollection of passing a small party of travelers but
had been rather distracted with the way Blake's arm had been rubbing against the bottom of
her breast as they rode. He had tightened his hold on both her and the reins at the first
sight of the oncoming party, presumably in case he needed extra control should trouble
break out. He had also urged his mount to a faster speed so that they had passed quickly.
Seonaid hadn't really caught more than a glimpse of the party as they passed, though it
could have been the same men. Therehadbeen six, if she recalled correctly, and it did seem
to her that there had been three dark, two blonds and a redhead in the party. A
coincidence? Or had they followed them, waited for them to make camp, then snuck up on the
women while they were bathing?

On the women and Blake, she reminded herself. They had entered the clearing directly on
his heels. Of course, they might have been preparing to make their move when Blake had
appeared, and seeing that he was weaponless and no threat, had attacked.

“Aye. 'Twas the same men,” Aeldra murmured as she knelt to pleat her own plaid. “We passed
them early this mornin'. I got a pretty good look at them then an' again just now while we
were afightin'. 'Twere the same men.”

Seonaid nodded slowly. If Aeldra said it was so, it was so. She had excellent vision. So,
Rollo's men had passed them by chance this morning, recognized Helendespite Sister
Blanche's outfitfollowed, and attacked.

Helen was right; they would have to head out immediately. Rollo would be desperate to see
the redhead dead. Seonaid was as aware as he must be that if he didn't kill her before her
father caught up to her, he would lose his chance, and once it became known that he had
planned to kill her... Helen was English. Her father was wealthy, and wealth usually meant
power. Her father could put pressure on his English king, who would put pressure on their
Scottish king, and Rollo could very well lose his head over the matter.

“Was Rollo among the men?” she asked suddenly.

“Nay, he was not among them.” The woman was just starting to relax at that realization
when Aeldra spoke up.

“He wouldn't be foolish enough to be among the attackers, in case the plan failedas it
did. He wouldna have wanted to be recognized. 'Sides, he probably has several parties out
lookin' for her.”

“Aye,” Seonaid agreed. Finished with her pleating, she donned her plaid over her braies
and the shortened shift and stood as Aeldra completed her own dress. Seonaid patted an
anxious-looking Helen

on the shoulder, then took her arm and turned her toward camp. “Come. We should leave at
once. We'll ride for Dunbar an' the safety it offers.”

“Surely you do not think they would attack again?” Helen said with alarm. “There are only
four of them left and we have the king's men traveling with us.”

“They'll no attack right away,” she reassured her. “But three of them will stay nearby to
trail us while the fourth rides to Rollo an' tells him where you are an' how many men we
have. Then he shall bring twice or thrice that many back to attack.”

“He will?” Helen was goggling.

“ 'Tis what I'd do,” Seonaid answered with a shrug, then urged her into the trees. “ 'Tis
best we get to Dunbar 'ere he returns. Once we're safely there, we can send a message to
yer father. Though that shouldna be necessary. Once we reach Dunbar, Rollo will ken he has
lost, an'if he's any sense at allwill disappear.”

“But” Helen tripped over a tree root, managing to keep her feet thanks to Seonaid's hold
on her arm, then said, “The men will not be willing to leave now. They just bedded the
horses down for the night.”

“We'll have to tell them the truth o' things,” Seonaid decided. “Explain that ye're no a
sister, an'”

“But what if they do not believe you?” When Seonaid paused and peered at her blankly, she
went on. “We have tried to escape them at every turn and have even poisoned them. The only
thing we have not done is lie. Well, we have lied about me, but they do not know that. If
you admit that we were lying about me, they may not believe anything we have to say. They
may think this is simply another attempt to escape, part of some greater plot. Can we not
just slip away and”

Seonaid stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. The woman was in a panic. “Trust me,” she
said solemnly. Helen hesitated, then slowly nodded. Satisfied, Seonaid turned and
continued into camp. Her gaze shot between Lord Rolfe and Blake as she entered, but
finally settled on Lord Rolfe. He seemed more likely to be willing to listen to her. He
was eager to see this wedding done and be about his business anyway, so he would hardly
mind rushing to Dunbar. He merely needed a good excuse to do so.

“My lord?”

Lord Rolfe and the bishop both stood as they approached them at the fire.

“Aye, Lady Seonaid?” Rolfe asked politely, but she noticed his gaze was skittering to Lady
Helenor Sister Helen, as he thought she was. Interesting, Seonaid thought, and stored the
knowledge aside for later consideration.

“It'd be wise to leave now an' ride night an' day until we reach Dunbar,” she announced
bluntly.

Lord Rolfe's jaw dropped at this suggestion, and she supposed she couldn't blame him.
Until now she'd done everything she could to avoid returning to Dunbar and tending to the
wedding, yet here she was suggesting they hurry there.

“Is there a reason for this sudden suggestion?” Bishop Wykeham asked when Rolfe continued
to gape like a fish out of water.

Seonaid turned to the holy man and nodded grimly. “I fear we're like to be attacked again.
We passed those men who attacked us earlier this morning. 'Tis obvious they followed with
the intention o' attackin'. I fear they'll try it again.”

“But you and your cousin defeated them,” the bishop pointed out. “They are two less men
now than they were to start with; surely they will not be foolish enough to try attacking
again.”

“No by themselves,” Seonaid agreed. Her comment appeared to help Rolfe's mind to start to
function again.

“You think they will fetch more men to come back and try again,” he said, and Seonaid
nodded. Rolfe considered this, then tilted his head slightly to ask, “Did you recognize
the men? Do you know who they could be?”

Seonaid hesitated. After what Helen had said, she'd rather not tell the truth, but part of
the truth would be all right. She chose her words carefully when she finally said, “Our
clan has many enemies. The Cameron keep is no far from here.”

“The Camerons?” Rolfe looked surprised.

“Aye. A fouler lot of scabbies ye'll never see. They've had a grudge against us forever.
If 'twas them...” Seonaid shrugged and let the sentence trail away.

“We can handle a couple of Camerons,” Blake announced, making his presence known.
Apparently he'd been made curious by the little huddle taking place and moved to join it.
Seonaid glanced over her shoulder and found herself staring at his chest. She actually had
to tip her head up to see that he was smiling down at her with reassurance. Having to look
up to meet someone's eyes was a new experience in itself, but one she rather liked. It was
nice not to tower over everyone for a change.

“Lady Seonaid was just saying that she thinks those men who attacked will go fetch more
men and return,” Rolfe explained to Blake.

“Nay,” Seonaid said. “I doona think they will, I ken they will. They'll fetch back the
rest of the clan; then the Cameron club shall come down on us like a great foot. They'll
slaughter us good an' proper, at least the men. The women will wish they were dead.”

“Oh, dear,” Bishop Wykeham murmured. “Perhaps we had best saddle up and head for Dunbar.”

“Aye,” Rolfe agreed, his expression grim. “We could be there by late tomorrow evening or
early the day after if we leave now. At any rate, it would put us ahead of the Camerons,
and that is good enough for me.”

Seonaid relaxed as the Englishman turned away and began shouting orders, but when she
turned toward Helen and Aeldra it was to find Blake in her way. He was watching her with a
narrow-eyed look that stunk of suspicion, and said that he suspected she was up to
something. Seonaid didn't care. So long as they got Helen safely to Dunbar, she didn't
really care what the Sherwell thought.

They rode through the night and most of the next day, forced to go at a slower pace than
Seonaid would

have liked because of the three horses carrying two people each. She found it rather
frustrating, but Blake would not give in to the idea of the women being given back their
mounts and Lord Rolfe, after a hesitation, had agreed with him. It seemed the king's man
believed her enough to want to move, but not enough to risk the women being able to slip
away again.

Seonaid forced herself to accept the situation. There was little else she could do. But it
had been a long, tense ride, with her sitting as stiff and erect as a soldier the whole
way in an effort to keep any part of her body from touching any part of Blake's. When
midafternoon rolled around and Blake decided they should stop to let the mounts rest, she
was most relieved. Helen was obviously not. The moment Lord Rolfe lifted her down off his
mount, she rushed to Seonaid's side.

“Should we be stopping?” she asked, grabbing up her skirts to trail Seonaid down the
sloping hill toward the trees.

Blake had decided to stop on a hilltop that allowed a clear view of the surrounding area.
A watch would be set in place while everyone rested. No one would be able to approach
without being spotted, at least while it was light. She suspected the moment darkness
fell, Blake would have them back on their horses and riding again. At least she hoped he
would. It was not much farther to Dunbar. They could be there by midmorning the next day
if they left again as the sun set.