The Knight's Temptress (Lairds of the Loch) (24 page)

BOOK: The Knight's Temptress (Lairds of the Loch)
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So she thought he was cocksure, did she? He looked back and saw that the stag had vanished. “Which way did he go?”

“North,” she said. Pointing, she added, “Through that dip yonder.”

“We should stop soon to eat our midday meal,” he said, still staring at the empty hillside.

Lina reached out and touched his arm, giving him an odd start. Looking at her, he noted first that her
eyes looked blue, rather than their usual gray, as if they reflected the color of the sky. And although her expression remained calm, he felt definite warmth emanating from her before she said quietly, “I know that you care deeply about many things, sir, even if you do not like to talk about them. Your family and clan are but two of them. I should not have spoken as I did before.”

Seeing the stag had put their earlier exchange out of his mind. But the feelings she had evoked with her scornful comment rushed back. Did she know that she had made him recall the duty he owed to Clan Colquhoun and his father?

He had heard many rumors about the MacFarlan sisters. And he knew that Andrena could sense more things about a person than most people could. But this with Lina was different. Not until she had blinked and looked away did he feel able to speak again… if he could just think of something to say.

Watching him, Lina reflected on how easily he revealed the boyish side of his nature. While charming, it also exposed vulnerability, and at times she sensed a kind of fear in him. She told herself she was being presumptuous, that knights of the realm, especially Ian, feared nothing. Things that terrified most people were but challenges to him. Yet, fear or something akin to it lurked deep within him.

They stopped shortly afterward to eat. When they rode on again, they went single file, wending their way up the east side of the ridge to the narrow pass. Peter Wylie led the way. Ian and the three men who had led before followed him.

Before long, the path narrowed considerably, making the footing more treacherous for the horses. Lady Aubrey reined in and declared that the women would dismount and lead theirs. Ian sent Peter and two others to help them.

Lina dismounted with Ian watching her, but then he shifted his gaze to Lady Margaret just ahead of her, sitting determinedly on her large, rawboned horse.

Ian’s gaze shifted again, this time to a point behind Lina, to Rob MacAulay.

Without a word exchanged between them, Rob dismounted, handed his reins to one of the other men, and strode past Lina to Lady Margaret.

Smiling at her, Rob said, “I ken fine that you can manage any beast, my lady. But if you will allow—”

“Indeed, I can, sir,” she interjected in a firm, haughty tone. “Forbye,
this
beast is mine own. I do not require any man to look after me, I promise you.”

“I ken that fine, madam,” Rob replied equably. “I would count it a great honor, though, if you would permit me to walk beside you for a time. I believe you knew my grandmother MacAulay, did you not, my lady?”

“I did.”

“I know little about her. But my da tells me she was kind and generous.”

“I suppose she was,” Lady Margaret agreed.

Then, to Lina’s surprise—and doubtless that of anyone else who had seen her rise in the midst of a conversation, brusquely excuse herself, and abandon a room without further ceremony—she chatted amiably with Rob MacAulay right up through the pass and down the precipitous west side of the ridge.

When they had passed the worst parts, Peter and one of
Ian’s men helped the other women remount, and Ian rode past to see if anyone needed additional help.

Rob told Lady Margaret then he ought to make sure all was well with the men behind them. She graciously excused him, and he rode back to them with Ian.

“Did you see that?” Muriella demanded some minutes later, having changed places to ride beside Lina as soon as the trail widened enough to accommodate pairs again. “Why, she talked to him like a normal person.”

Lady Margaret having rejoined Lady Aubrey, the two rode just ahead.

“Keep your voice down, Murie,” Lina murmured.

The nearby air seemed to take on energy of its own just before Ian said from right behind them, “Aye, you ill-contrived bairn. Show some discretion.”

Turning, Murie made a face at him but lowered her voice. “I’ve never heard her speak so kindly before. She does not talk much at all about others, come to that. Although she does sniff when one mentions certain family names.”

“Then do not mention them,” Ian said.

“Was Rob MacAulay’s grandmother a great friend of hers?” Lina asked him.

“Sakes, lass, I don’t know. I didn’t know Rob
had
a grandmother.”

Murie laughed. “That’s daft. Everyone has a grandmother. Two, in fact.”

Ian laughed then but warned her again to mind her tongue.

Lina wondered if he still worried about Tùr Meiloach’s ability to protect its own. She believed the tales were mostly products of her father’s fertile imagination but saw no reason to explain that to Ian. He would likely disbelieve her.

Andrew’s ability to plant seeds of stories that had grown to full-blown legends
had
protected them. As for other events that had contributed to those legends and were not mythical, she said naught of them, either.

She realized that Ian was watching her and that Murie was watching him.

Abruptly and appraisingly, Murie shifted her gaze to Lina.

Lina was doing it again, Ian decided.

Muriella cleared her throat. When he looked at her, she grinned as knowingly as ever Andrena had. What was it about the MacFarlan women, he wondered, that produced such notions in him? He’d be wiser to stay with his men.

He was seeking some other place to fix his gaze when it collided with Rob’s. Excusing himself, he slowed his horse and motioned for Rob to join him.

When he did, Ian said, “What’s amiss?”

“Nowt,” Rob said. “Was just wondering the same about you.”

“Aye, well, that’s nowt, too,” Ian said. “Let’s ride on ahead for a time. This trail through the woods is a good one. We’ll let the horses stretch their legs.”

Accordingly, they set their mounts to a gentle lope until they had passed the forward party. Slowing then, they continued to ride silently until Ian began to feel as if the very leaves of the trees and shrubbery watched them.

“What do you know about this place?” he asked abruptly.

Rob shrugged. “Pharlain wants to own it. Andrew Dubh wants to keep it. He also wants to win back the ancient MacFarlan lands of Arrochar.”

“Do you think he can?”

Another shrug.

Knowing Rob well, Ian waited.

Rob glanced at him. “I do
not
like Pharlain, and Andrew’s a good man.”

Ian nodded. “Just what I think myself,” he said.

A quarter-hour later, MacFarlan’s tower loomed through the trees ahead. Soon afterward, they could see the high wall that surrounded it, and shortly after that, they watched the timber gates open and their host step out to greet them.

Andrew Dubh looked just as he had the last time Ian had seen him. He wore a Highlander’s plain saffron tunic beneath a green-and-golden plaid. And, like most men at that time of year, he was barefoot. His dark brown hair, free of gray, hung loose to his shoulders. His dark eyes lit with pleasure at the sight of his family.

Despite his nearly fifty years of life, Andrew looked fit and strong.

Recognizing Ian, he nodded at him.

“You’ll remember Rob MacAulay, I think, sir,” Ian said.

“Aye, sure, I do. How fares your father, lad?”

“He is well, sir, thank you,” Rob said.

“Well, dinna be dawdling here, ye two. Ye’re welcome inside. Your lads can camp in the woods if they prefer it, without fearing for their lives.” Smiling then, he waved them through the gates and strode to meet his wife and daughters.

They were no sooner all inside with the gates shut behind them and heavily barred, however, than a sentry on the lochside wall walk shouted, “Galley below, laird! They’ve flung anchors out, and they be flying Pharlain’s banner!”

Lina dismounted as Andrew acknowledged the warning. He hugged her, saying, “I’m glad ye’re home safe, lass. Ye, too, my lady,” he said to his wife, who deftly caught hold of her horse’s mane and dismounted. “And ye, Murie-lass,” he added. Take Lizzie on in wi’ ye, and tell Malcolm she’ll be staying for a time.”

His lack of surprise at seeing Lizzie told Lina that he had heard from one of his watchers that she was with them.

He turned then to Lady Margaret and said with a polite nod, “Ye’re welcome, too, m’lady, for as long as ye like. Ye dinna seem to have aged a month since last I saw ye, though it must be a score o’ years or more.”

She gave him a wary smile but let him help her dismount.

Lady Aubrey said, “The news that Lina and the Galbraith ladies are here must not go beyond our wall, sir. James Mòr will be searching for Lina and Lizzie.”

Andrew looked at Ian, saying, “Might Pharlain ken aught o’ what happened?”

“He may know that they were prisoners, sir, but not much more, unless—”

“Laird, laird!” the sentry shouted. “It be
Dougal
MacPharlain in yon galley, and he’s a-shouting summat. One o’ our lads be a-coming up the noo!”

“Pluff!” Andrew shouted to the boy at the postern gate, “Let him in when the man above ye tells ye it be safe. Aubrey, take the women inside.”

Lina said to Ian, “You must come, too, sir. Dougal must not see you here—or Master MacAulay, either, since he was at Dumbarton with your father.”

“We’ll join you shortly, my lady,” Ian said. “I want to learn more first. You go along in, though, and don’t fret. We won’t let Dougal see us.”

“Go in now, all of ye,” Andrew said. “ ’Tis best if the lad coming up doesna see ye, either. That road, he canna tell anyone aught that we’d liefer keep from them.”

Despite her distrust of Dougal’s motives, Lina had no choice but to obey.

Pluff was at the gate, and the man on the wall was waving for him to open it.

Ian watched her go inside. But when the skinny, red-headed boy by the gate reached to open it, Andrew said, “Hold there, Pluff.”

The boy stopped with his hand at the latch, and Andrew said to Ian, “Take MacAulay and your lads, and get on inside. If you and he stand by the door, ye’ll hear what the lad has to say, but dinna let him see ye. He may remember ye, and neither Pharlain nor Dougal has ever done this afore.”

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