The Chase (24 page)

Seonaid was not surprised that he would rather not journey with her father and the others
to England. The two men got along much better now that the marriage was accomplished. Her
father even showed some signs of liking her husband, but she doubted very much that Blake
wanted to be hampered by the presence of so many people so soon after their marriage, at
least not if he wished to continue to bed her as they had since the wedding. That thought
was enough to ensure that she had no desire to travel with the others. She couldn't stand
the idea of laying next to Blake night after night, not being able to touch him for fear
of waking everyone with the moans and sighs she seemed unable to contain.

“Where is yer husbOh, there ye are,” her father said, and Seonaid glanced over her
shoulder to see Blake approaching. When he paused, he stood so close that his chest
brushed her back, and Seonaid

was tempted to lean into him but controlled herself. She had not yet gotten used to the
difference in their relationship. She had gone from battling and fleeing the man to
reluctantly giving up her injured pride at Lady Margaret's urging to the intimacy that
took place in their bedroom of a night. She still had no idea how to behave around him
once they were out of the bedroom.

“Be careful on yer way.” Her father's solemn words drew Seonaid's attention to the two men
as he cautioned Blake. “Remember,” he continued, “Greenweld's men are out there.” “Surely
they would not still be after me?” Blake said with surprise. “Greenweld is dead.” “Aye.”
Angus nodded. “But who is it ye think may have told 'em that?” Blake stared at him
blankly, and the man nodded.

“No one. They're no likely to risk talkin' to Scots lest they bring an attack on
themselves fer bein' where they doona belong. And they're no likely to come back to report
to Greenweld that they have failed in the task. From all I've heard o' that bastard, he'd
have skinned 'em alive for the failure. Nay, they'd no dare to return without seein' the
job done.”

“Aye, but if they have trailed us back here to Dunbar, then they shall surely see that
Greenweld is not here and realize”

“I doubt they've managed to get this far yet. They were several days behind ye and would
have had to travel to the abbey jest as ye did. Had Seonaid no led ye sech a merry chase
and ye'd headed straight back, ye'd have most like run into them on the way here. As it
is, they are probably following the trail ye left in yer travels and are still several
days behind ye.”

Blake fell silent as he considered this information, and Seonaid suspected he was
reconsidering traveling with her father and the others now that he realized they might be
put in jeopardy due to his decision. It was too late for that, however.

“So watch yerselves when ye head out and keep an eye open,” Angus finished.

Blake nodded solemnly.

Satisfied, Angus turned to Seonaid and chucked her under the chin. “Keep an eye on this
one. His father will no doubt blame me if he gets hissel' killed.”

Seonaid had trouble hiding her grin of amusement, butaware of Blake's irritation over her
father's wordsshe did her best. “Aye, Father.”

“Guid. Now, find Lady Helen and get her up to yer room; we're almost ready to go. Let us
know once they're on their way. We'll give them a few minutes to make their way through
the passage, then set out. It should offer them enough distraction to ride out of the area
undetected.”

Nodding, Seonaid turned to move back into the keep, aware that Blake and Aeldra were
following. They found Helen in the great hall, thanking Iliana for her hospitality during
her stay there, and Seonaid smiled to herself at the sight of the former redhead. Helen
had been transformed from a red-haired

woman to a dark-haired young English lad. They had bound her breasts, dressed her in a set
of Lord Rolfe's clothes that the women had taken in and resewn, then tied her hair back
behind her head and darkened it with soot from the fireplace so that she now looked like a
small, dark-haired lad. The transformation was remarkable.

Helen finished her thank-you as Seonaid, Blake, and Aeldra reached her. She turned to eye
them and asked, “Is it time?”

“Aye.”

Nodding, Helen fell into step with Seonaid as she turned toward the stairs to the upper
level.

Lord Rolfe, Duncan, and Little George were already in the room when they arrived. The
three men were working diligently at removing the boulders from in front of the entrance
to the passage. They already had most of them out of the way.

“Why do ye no remove them altogether and seal up the passage?” Seonaid asked as Blake
moved to help finish the task.

“Nay. I've no decided if the passage stays or goes.” Duncan explained. “There may be a way
to keep it from bein' opened from the other side. And I'd rather as few people as possible
ken about it until I decide.” He paused to glance around at those in the room. “I'm
trustin' ye can keep yer mouths shut?”

“Aye,” they all answered.

“Greenweld is dead,” Rolfe pointed out as he picked up another boulder. “Surely the secret
died with him and Allistair? Well, other than those of us here.”

“Giorsal kens,” Aeldra pointed out quietly, and the room fell silent again, no one wanting
to comment and add to her upset.

“There,” Duncan said with satisfaction, pausing to wipe his brow as the last boulder was
removed.

Seonaid hesitated, then stepped forward and pressed one of the stones in the solid-looking
wall, stepping back as the wall swung away, revealing a dark walkway.

“Ye'll need a torch,” Aeldra murmured, and slipped out of the room, returning moments
later with one of the lit torches from the hall. She handed it to Lord Rolfe, then moved
to stand by Seonaid as Helen approached. The woman paused before them and Seonaid felt
dread claim her. She didn't think she could bear it if the Englishwoman revealed her
emotions. She was already feeling pangs of anxiety, fear, and sadness at her leave-taking.

“Thank you,” Helen whispered; then she flung herself at Seonaid's chest, hugging her
tightly, before turning to Aeldra and doing the same. With that, she turned and moved to
follow Lord Rolfe into the passage.

“Remember, jest follow the passage. It exits into a clearin'. James'll be awaitin' there
with horses fer ye. Good luck!” Duncan called after them, then closed the passage again
and immediately moved to begin returning the boulders to their earlier position.

“What if they come back fer some reason?” Seonaid said with a frown, thinking they were
moving rather

swiftly at locking the pair out.

“They willna return,” Duncan said simply as Blake and Little George joined him in the work.

After a brief hesitation, Seonaid leant a hand as well, but she kept an ear open for any
sound from the wall lest they did return. The job was done quickly with all of them
working. Duncan lay the last stone in place, straightened, and put one hand at his back as
he arched and stretched in an effort to work out any tension the exercise of bending and
lifting, carrying and bending to set boulders back down had caused. Then he turned for the
door announcing, “I'll tell Father they've gone.”

Seonaid hardly paid attention. She was standing before the pile of boulders, her ears
straining in case Rolfe and Helen returned.

“They shall be fine.” Blake gave her back a gentle rub, then suggested, “Why do we not go
practice in the bailey?”

Seonaid hesitated, then forced herself to turn away from the blocked passage. “Aye.”

If nothing else, the activity would distract her, she hoped as she followed her husband
out of their room. Aeldra and Little George trailed them to the practice fields and began
to spar together even as Seonaid and Blake did. They worked in silence, Seonaid trying to
be more aggressive and not let Blake wear her down. But she soon realized that Blake
wasn't being aggressive in return. He had obviously suggested this purely to help distract
her from her worry about Helen, and while she found it a thoughtful gesture, it made her
think about it more. She was grateful when Blake called a halt and they went into the
great hall for a drink.

Blake and Little George talked quietly about this and that as the four of them sat at the
trestle table, but were she to be asked what they'd said, she wouldn't have been able to
say. She wasn't really paying attention. Judging by Aeldra's silence, her cousin was just
as distracted and worried as she.

When Blake suddenly set down his drink and caught her hand, Seonaid glanced at him with
surprise.

“Come,” was all he said; then he tugged her to her feet and led her abovestairs to their
room.

The moment he closed the door behind them, Seonaid thought he must have brought her up for
more loving. However, while Blake led her to the bed, he merely dropped onto it and tugged
her over himself to lie next to him.

“Rest.”

Seonaid stared at him. She was becoming more used to his assertive nature and the
commanding way he took control of things, but it still startled her somewhat. While there
were times she appreciated it and even secretly enjoyed it, she was not used to taking
orders and at times found the way he simply assumed control a bit alarming. This was one
of those times when she was slightly nonplussed. In truth, shewas weary; they'd had little
sleep the last two nights and it was starting to catch up to her, aided on its way by her
anxiety and their physical activity. Still, she almost felt she should rebel for pride's
sake alone.

Her gaze slid over him and she frowned at the sight of his booted feet crossed at the
ankles on the bed. “Are ye no goin' to remove yer boots?”

“I am too tired,” Blake said, then popped one eye open, a smile tugging at the corner of
his mouth as he

said, “You are wearing me out with your demands, wife.”

“Wearin' ye out?” she exclaimed with disbelief. He was just as demanding as she.

“Aye. Wearing me out,” was all Blake said.

Scowling, Seonaid sat where she was for a minute, then stood and moved around the bed to
his side. Pausing there, she set to work on removing his boots.

“What are you doing?” Blake half sat up in his surprise.

“As yer soexhausted ,” she said dryly. “I'm helpin' ye with yer boots. Iliana would have
fits did ye ruin her fine linens with 'em.”

Blake hesitated, then flopped back on the bed, leaving her to it. She dragged the first
boot off and unintentionally ran her hand over the bottom of his foot, which made him jerk
upright on the bed and tug his foot from her hand. When Seonaid glanced up at his face
with surprise, he relaxed back on the bed, but she noticed he kept his knee bent and his
foot pressed flat to the bed surface, a good distance from her hands.

Considering this, she set to work on his other boot. This time when she dragged the boot
off, she deliberately ran her hand over the bottom of his foot, and again Blake jerked and
dragged his foot out of her grasp.

“Yer ticklish,” Seonaid said with disbelief. “Nay,” Blake denied, but there was such panic
in his eyes as he denied it, she knew he was lying. “Nay?” she asked, an evil grin
claiming her lips.

“Seonaid,” he growled in warning, but she was already climbing onto the bed to reach his
feet. He tried to swivel them out of her grasp, but Seonaid was quicker and managed to
catch one. She immediately set to tickling the bottom of the foot she held, amazed when
Blake began to laugh and struggle wildly. Seonaid held on like the claw of a lobster,
locking her arm around his lower leg and holding him by the ankle with that hand, leaving
her other one free to torment him. It was like trying to break a wild horse; he was
bucking and jerking and thrashing about wildly. When that did not work, Blake had the
presence of mind to sit up and grab her arms from behind. It turned into a wrestling match
that had them laughing and rolling on the bed until Blake managed to trap her beneath him
on her back, her arms over her head.

Breathless and panting, they grinned at each other; then Blake lowered his mouth to claim
hers and they began a wrestling of a different nature.

“Sherwell!”

Seonaid blinked her eyes open and sat upright on the bed as the chamber door slammed open.
She gaped at her brother with confusion. It was daylight, probably nearly noon, she
realized. She and Blake had fallen asleep after their lovemaking and slept the morning
away. And something had obviously happened while they slept, something that had her
brother looking like thunder as he dragged Little George into the room, shoving the huge
man about as if he were a pup.

“Duncan!” Aeldra rushed into the room on their heels. The petite blonde was flushed and
disheveled; she was also angrier than Seonaid had seen her in a long time. “Let George go!
Ye have no right!”

“Close yer mouth, Aeldra,” Duncan snapped, shaking away the hand she had placed on his
arm. “I have every right. Yer me cousin and me responsibility. Doubly so now that
Allistair is gone.” Turning back to the bed, he snapped, “God damn me, Sherwell. Wake up!”

“I am awake,” Blake muttered, sitting up to survey Duncan with a frown. “What is going on?”

“I'll tell ye what's goin' on, I caughtyer man onme cousin,” Duncan announced grimly,
releasing the man, but not before he'd shoved him toward the bed.

Blake looked nonplussed by this announcement, then glanced from Aeldra to Little George to
Seonaid. Aeldra blushed and avoided his gaze and Little George stared at the floor looking
rather chagrined. Seonaid was the only one to meet his eyes, but she did so with an
expression as bewildered as his own.

“Duncan” she began tentatively, only to have him turn his wrath on her.

“Not a word, Seonaid. This is men's business.” His eyes turned back to Blake. “Get dressed
and come below. We've some sorting to do.”

Turning on his heel, Duncan stomped from the room, pulling the door closed with a slam.