The Knight's Temptress (Lairds of the Loch) (19 page)

She wondered if he would view an oncoming enemy
army as merely another challenge to overcome. He was clearly a man whose duties came first, so the presence of two young women would doubtless just enhance that challenge.

Nevertheless, she felt calm. As that realization struck her, she said impulsively, “All three of those approaching riders are yours, sir.”

Ian resisted pointing out that he had just said as much or that he doubted that two had become three. He eased his mount forward so that it blocked hers.

A low whistle sounded then above the whispering rain, and he knew the approaching riders posed no threat. Although the riders lacked torches, he was sure that his two torchbearers must have met the others and were returning with them.

When three shadowy figures of horsemen grew visible in the murk ahead, he glanced at Lina’s dark slender figure beside him and wondered how she had known three riders were coming.

The first of them reached him a minute later, the others close behind. “More riders ahead, sir, a score or more,” the first man, one of his erstwhile torchbearers, said. “But Tobias here says they be a-heading down in tae the vale.”

“Art sure, Tobias?” Ian asked the youngest of the three.

“Aye, sir. Dobb says he reckons they come from Drymen or somewhere else near the southeast shore o’ Loch Lomond and be heading back tae Dumbarton.”

Ian trusted Dobb’s judgment. However, if James Mòr had sent Dumbarton men east, he had sent others to Loch Lomond’s southwest shore. They would have to approach Loch Lomond with increased care.

He said quietly, “Did Dobb say aught else, Tobias?”

“He did, aye, sir. He did say ye should dispense wi’ torches as ye ride along the hilltop. It does seem clear o’ strangers ahead, though.”

“We’ll ride on then,” Ian said. “Art freezing yet, my lady?”

“No, sir. Your lady mother gave us breeks to wear under our skirts. I suspect, too, that I am wearing her favorite and warmest cloak. The one thing I regret about leaving Dumbarton is that I had to leave my own new cloak behind.”

He grinned. “We could send a message asking James Mòr to return it.”

Over the susurrous rain, her soft chuckle floated to his ears, and his body startled him with its strong, sensual reaction to the sound.

Despite the chilly air, he felt hot. And riding was less comfortable for the next mile or so. But they reached Balloch in less time than Colquhoun had predicted and passed through the dark village in near silence, despite the necessary splashing.

Approaching the ford across the river Leven, which flowed out of Loch Lomond, Ian gave thanks that it was midsummer and not spring. When the snows were melting, any ford within a mile or two of the loch became unusable.

As it was, he felt vulnerable while crossing, and more so when Rob crossed with Lizzie still sleeping contentedly, her head resting against his shoulder. He held her in place with one powerful arm while he guided his horse with his other hand.

When they reached the opposite bank, Ian said to him, “Perhaps you should wake her now and let her ride her own horse the rest of the way.”

“We’ll let her sleep,” Rob said, his deep voice barely audible above the rain. “She’d have fallen off her horse earlier had I not noticed in time to prevent it. She’s exhausted, as much from fear of what lies ahead as from what lies behind.”

“Likely, you’re right. Galbraith will be relieved to see her but will have much to say about what happened that she won’t want to hear.”

Rob grunted. “She said your father was so angry that she hates to imagine how angry hers will be. Said she’d always heard that Colquhoun was a man of peace.”

Ian said dryly, “He is, aye, unless one of his sons crosses his will. I was lucky to get off with a whole skin.”

“So far, anyway,” Rob murmured.

Biting back a laugh, Ian said, “Just don’t lose her, Rob. I don’t want to face Galbraith or Mag if we do.”

They had not gone far beyond the ford when another horseman approached. “There be three men afoot waiting near this track a quarter-mile on, sir. They dinna look tae be armed, so Dobb talked wi’ them. Their spokesman be an auld codger wha’ says his name be Lippin Geordie and that he be a-waiting for ye.”

Ian was about to ask if Hak was with them when Lina said, “Lippin Geordie is Galbraith’s man, sir. He lives in the clachan on shore across from Inch Galbraith and has a son named Dolf. They row boats to the islet and back.”

“Then Geordie is a friend, lad,” Ian said. “Did he say whether he had seen Hak or any men from Dumbarton?”

“He talked wi’ some riders earlier and told them there were nary a sign o’ life at Inch Galbraith, that likely the laird be a-visiting at Culcreuch.”

“If that is so—”

“When Dobb said the laird would be expecting us, because our master had sent word ahead, Geordie admitted that the laird be at home, sir. He has his sister the lady Margaret and her guests wi’ him, and Geordie said he had set watchers, too. So it be safe tae come ahead.”

“Aye, then we will,” Ian said, signaling to his men that they would ride on.

Lina could see little in the darkness but had realized soon after the departing torches had plunged them into blackness that Ian’s night vision was excellent. None of the men seemed concerned about the darkness—or the rain.

Lizzie slept contentedly through it all.

Never one to bemoan a situation she could not control, Lina tried to ignore the unsettling fact that, despite the oilskin she wore, the front of the cloak that Lady Colquhoun had lent her had soaked through to her bodice.

In fact, the stiff oilskin had creased just above her right shoulder, providing a channel for rain to stream down the front of her. She had soon learned to judge when it was about to happen and to ease the skin up with a finger to make the water stream away from her. Nevertheless, she was overjoyed to see Lippin Geordie and his two companions when they finally reached them.

“God bethankit, ye’ve brung our wee lassie home,” Geordie exclaimed when he saw Lizzie. If he gave Rob a speculative look, it vanished when Lizzie awoke and said, “Geordie! Are we home then?”

“Soon enow, lassie,” he said soothingly. “Soon enow.”

After that, things moved quickly. Geordie told Ian that he, Sir Alex, and Rob were welcome at Galbraith’s tower.
“Himself did say that them others, along o’ your ponies, should find room in our clachan,” he added. “We’ll be a mite crowded, sir. But your men and beasts be welcome, and we’ll get them all out o’ the wet.”

“They’ll be grateful for shelter,” Ian said. “I did send my man ahead to let Galbraith know we were coming.”

“Aye, sure, sir. He’s a-waiting for ye at the tower. Himself did say that Hak could look after your friends, too.”

“He will, aye. You have my thanks, Geordie.”

“Good then. We ha’ boats for ye yonder.”

A half-hour later, after crossing from the shore to the islet’s landing in two small longboats with four oarsmen each, they disembarked onto the wharf.

Lina noted that Lizzie’s mood had shifted from delight at seeing Lippin Geordie to a more somber, silent one. When she stood on the wharf, gazing at the path to the tower but making no move toward it, Lina put a gentle hand on her arm.

“He will not murder you, Liz. Nor will he be as horrid as Dougal or James Mòr would. He loves you, and he has been gey frightened for you. Remember that.”

“Aye, sure,” Lizzie muttered. “If you will recall, though, in that horrid tower room, you told me that you’d have no sympathy when I came by my just deserts.”

“I said, too, that I did not look forward to facing Galbraith any more than you did,” Lina reminded her. “Now, it appears that I must also face my mother.”

“Lady Aubrey will just be glad you are safe,” Lizzie said.

“I’d like to hope so,” Lina said. “But, she expected me to look after you, so I fear she is disappointed in me. And that will be harder to bear than her anger.”

“We must go in, though,” Lizzie said with a sigh. “I see Hector coming.”

Lina had met Hector, Galbraith’s elderly steward, on her first visit. As he hurried down the path toward them, his lantern swaying, she recognized him easily.

“Sir Ian?” the old man said, raising the lantern to peer at their group.

“I am here,” Ian said from behind Lina just as she sensed his approach. He touched her shoulder lightly, urging her on.

“How angry is he?” Lizzie asked the steward as soon as they met.

“Your da be eager tae see ye wi’ his own eyes, lassie. Ye, too, Lady Lina,” he added. “Your mam and the lady Muriella be here, as is our own lady Margaret.”

“Thank you, Hector,” Lina said. “Have you met Sir Ian before?”

“Aye, sure,” the old man said. “I ken Sir Alex, too, but not t’other ’un.”

Ian introduced Rob. Then Hector urged them inside, leaving their baggage for the oarsmen to carry up to the tower.

Lina and Lizzie no sooner stepped into the entryway than they heard Galbraith shout, “Hector, are ye back, then? Hie them along in, man!”

Abruptly, Lizzie stopped.

Ian, Rob, and Alex were right behind Lizzie and Lina, so they all came perforce to a halt as suddenly as Lizzie did. To Ian’s astonishment, Rob reached forward, put one large palm to her shoulder, and urged her gently forward.

Glancing at him, she made a face, then drew a breath and followed Hector.

The steward led them toward the archway into the great hall and paused squarely in the middle of it to announce in stentorian accents, “The ladies Lachina and Elizabeth, my lord. Also, their escort: Sir Ian Colquhoun of Dunglass, Sir Alexander Buchanan of Clarinch, and Master Robert MacAulay of Ardincaple.”

When Hector stepped aside, Ian saw Lina smile reassuringly at Lizzie and make a barely perceptible gesture for her to go first. Without hesitation, the younger lass led the way with Lina a step behind her.

Ian followed with Rob and Alex in his wake.

Galbraith stood by the huge fireplace. On the nearby dais, two noblewomen sat at the high table. Ian had met Aubrey, Lady MacFarlan before. He surmised that the woman next to her was the lady Margaret Galbraith of Bannachra.

“Come to the fire, all of ye,” Galbraith said. “ ’Tis a wicked night, withal.”

Lizzie sank to a deep curtsy, still some distance away.

Stepping forward and extending a hand, Galbraith drew her up, saying, “ ’Tis grand to see ye safe, lassie. Make your curtsy to your aunt and Lady Aubrey, then warm yourself. Hector has ordered supper, so we’ll eat when ye’ve dried off and donned warm clothing. Lady Lina, ye’ll share Lizzie’s bedchamber tonight. Your clothes and your maidservant await ye, so ye can both go as soon as ye’re warm.”

“Arthur, do you not mean to permit me one moment with
my
daughter?” Lady Aubrey asked him with a smile. “You were not alone, you know, in fretting yourself to flinders over our daughters’ capture and imprisonment.”

“Aye, sure,” he said with a rueful smile. “Ye should
have gone to your mam straightaway, Lina, but I did want to thank ye for looking after our Liz.”

“She did, my lord, and gey well, too,” Lizzie said.

“Ye can tell me all about it after we sup, lassie. We’ll have a wee talk then.”

Ian paid little heed to their exchange. He was watching Lina. It struck him only then that when she had said earlier that she, too, worried about facing Galbraith, she had not just been trying to cheer Lizzie. Lina
was
apprehensive.