Ransom
Her laird indeed. How could she argue with such an absurd idea? The Buchanans, she’d already learned, were an obstinate lot, and when they got a notion into their hard heads, nothing could prod it loose.
They were also good and honorable men who were now protecting Alec and her, and nothing any of them did would cause her to lose her patience.
“All right then,” she agreed.
Brodick was leading his horse toward her when she ran to him and asked his assistance. He also looked startled, but he did accept the ribbon. She turned around, swung her hair over her shoulder, and lifted it up with one hand. He pushed her hand away, pulled on her hair as though he were grooming his horse’s tail, and roughly tied the ribbon into a hard knot.
The man was as delicate as a bull. She thought he might have pulled her hair on purpose because she’d asked him to do a woman’s chore, but she held her smile and thanked him profusely.
“Will we reach Laird Ramsey Sinclair’s holding before nightfall?”
“No,” he answered curtly. He grabbed her by her waist and lifted her onto his stallion’s back, then swung up behind her and took the reins. “We’re going to the Maitlands’.”
She bumped his chin when she turned to him. “We must go to Ramsey first and warn him of the danger to him and his brother before we take Alec home.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
He was astonished that she had the gumption to contradict him. No woman had ever dared argue with him before, and he wasn’t quite certain how to proceed. Didn’t she realize his position of power?
“You’re English,” he said. “And I will therefore make certain allowances for you. I realize you don’t understand you shouldn’t argue with me, and so I’ll explain it to you. Don’t argue with me.”
Incredulous, she said, “That’s it? ‘Don’t argue with me’ is your explanation as to why I shouldn’t argue with you?”
“Are you trying to irritate me?”
“No, of course not.”
Presuming she now understood he wasn’t going to waste valuable time debating his decisions with her, he turned to call out to Dylan, but she regained his full attention when she put her hand on his chest. Her voice was low, insistent. “I must warn Laird Sinclair.”
He tilted his head ever so slightly as he studied her. “Do you know him?” he asked softly. “Have you seen Ramsey?”
She couldn’t understand why he had suddenly become so tense and irritable. His behavior was most puzzling, but she decided not to remark on it now because she was more interested in making him be reasonable.
“No, I’ve never met the man, but I know a good deal about him.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Tell me what you know.”
Ignoring his gruff tone, she answered, “I know he rules the Sinclair clan and that he’s their new laird. Isn’t that true?”
“It is,” he answered.
Her fingertips were slowly trailing a path down his chest, her touch damned distracting. He wondered if she realized what she was doing or if it was a deliberate ploy to gain his cooperation. Did the woman actually believe that a kind word and a gentle caress would sway him? It was laughable, really. Anyone who knew him well understood that once he had made up his mind, he never changed it.
“And I have made certain assumptions about him,” she continued. “A man doesn’t become laird unless he’s a very fit warrior. I imagine he’s . . . almost . . . as strong as you are.”
The tension eased out of him. “Almost,” he arrogantly allowed.
She didn’t smile, but the urge was nearly overwhelming. “I also know that Ramsey has a brother as young as Alec. He’s a child, and it’s therefore your duty, and mine, to watch out for him. Every child should be protected from harm, and Michael’s no exception.”
Her argument was sound. Brodick had thought first to get her and Alec to Iain Maitland, with whom they would be safe, and then go to Ramsey to warn him.
He reevaluated his decision now. “Your primary concern is for the boy, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“I’ll send Dylan and two others to warn Ramsey, but the rest of us will go to the Maitlands’. Does that satisfy you?”
“Yes, thank you.”
He grabbed her hand to get her to stop stroking him and said, “In future, you will not argue with me.”
It wasn’t a request but a statement of fact, and Gillian decided to let him think she agreed. “As you wish.”
After receiving his instructions, Dylan left with Ossian and Fingal to go to the Sinclair holding. Alec rode with Robert, and Liam took the lead as they continued toward their destination. When they stopped to rest the horses at the nooning hour, Keith and Stephen split from the group. The soldiers caught up with the procession again an hour later, looking as smug as could be, and leading a feisty gray mare.
Gillian took to the animal right away. She was pleased they had borrowed the horse until she found out they didn’t plan to ever give her back. Appalled, she refused to ride the horse unless they promised her that when they reached the Maitlands’, they would return the mare to her rightful owner, but the soldiers were as stubborn as their laird and wouldn’t agree to any such thing. Keith tried to be clever by changing the subject while Stephen tried to convince her that the man who owned the horse felt honored because a Buchanan had chosen his mare to steal.
“Do you want us to insult the man?” Stephen asked.
“No, of course I don’t, but—”
“It would shame him,” Keith told her.
“If you think I’m going to believe—”
“It’s time to go.” Brodick gave the order as he lifted her onto the mare. His hand rested on her thigh. “You do know how to ride, don’t you?”
She began to push his hand away, but he merely tightened his grip while he patiently waited for her to answer his question.
She decided to give him a dose of his own arrogance. “Better than you, Laird.”
He shook his head at her and tried to ignore the sweet smile she gave him with her outrageous boast. “I don’t like arrogant women.”
“Then you aren’t going to like me at all,” she replied cheerfully. “I’m horribly arrogant. Just ask my uncle Morgan. He tells me it’s my greatest flaw.”
“No, arrogance isn’t your greatest flaw.”
Before she realized what he was going to do, his hand cupped the back of her neck and he roughly pulled her toward him. He’d moved so quickly, she didn’t even have time to blink, and she was still smiling at him when his mouth settled possessively on hers.
He kissed the breath right out of her. The heat of his mouth against hers sent a jolt of excitement surging through her body. The kiss was exhilarating, and then it got better. His tongue stroked hers, and the pleasure was so intense, she was certain it had to be a sin, but she couldn’t make herself care. All she wanted to do was kiss him back as passionately as he was kissing her.
She wanted to get closer to him, to throw her arms around his neck, hold him close, and never let go. She tried to do just that, and when he ended the kiss, she very nearly toppled to the ground. Fortunately, he wasn’t as addlebrained as she was—’twas a fact he didn’t look at all affected by the searing kiss—and he was able to catch her before she disgraced herself.
She could hear Alec making gagging sounds of disgust in between his giggles, but didn’t turn to look at any of the soldiers, knowing that her face was burning with embarrassment.
“You mustn’t ever kiss me again, Brodick,” she whispered hoarsely.
He laughed as he swung up onto his mount and took the lead. She nudged her horse into a trot to catch up with him.
“I mean it,” she whispered.
He acted as though he hadn’t heard her, and she decided to let the matter go.
They rode hard that day, stopping only once more to rest the horses and let Alec stretch his legs. Gillian stayed behind Brodick as they rode through rough, untamed, but
breathtakingly beautiful land.
When they stopped for the night, she went to the nearby stream and washed, all the while thinking about the comment Brodick had made but hadn’t explained, and the longer she thought about it the more curious she became. He’d told her that arrogance wasn’t her greatest flaw, indicating he believed there was another more serious imperfection.
She was dying to ask him to explain himself, but determined not to, and though it was frustrating, she was able to control her curiosity for a while. She and Alec were so worn out from the long day, they went to bed directly after supper. Both of them slept like the dead, and if Alec had nightmares, she didn’t remember soothing him. She awakened a little before dawn and found herself cuddled in Brodick’s strong arms again. Content, she closed her eyes and went back to sleep.
So that Alec could catch up on his sleep, they got a late start the following day and didn’t stop until the middle of the afternoon. Alec was more relaxed now, but he still wouldn’t let her out of his sight. She had to order him to sit with Keith when she needed a few minutes of privacy, and as soon as she returned, he ran to her and latched onto her hand.
The poor innocent looked relieved to see her again.
“I’m not going to disappear on you, Alec.”
“Uncle Brodick says we’re close to my home now.”
“Does this valley look familiar to you?”
“No,” he admitted. Then he tugged on her hand. “Gillian?” he whispered.
She leaned down. “Yes?” she asked, wondering what he was worrying about now.
“Can I ride with you?”
“Don’t you like riding with Robert?”
“He won’t let me talk, not even when it’s safe.”
“You can ride with me.”
“But you got to ask Uncle Brodick.”
“I will,” she agreed. “Finish eating, and I’ll go ask right now.”
Brodick was walking back from the forest and appeared to be preoccupied when she approached him.
“Brodick, how much farther is it to Alec’s home?”
“A couple of hours.”
“Would it be all right if Alec rode with me for a little while?”
“He’ll ride with Robert.”
“But Robert won’t talk to him.”
Exasperated, he said, “My soldier has more important matters on his mind.”
“The child doesn’t understand that.”
With a sigh, he said, “All right. He can ride with you. We’re on safe land now.”
He started toward his horse, then stopped. “Do all boys his age talk as much as he does?”
“I don’t know. Alec’s the first child I’ve ever been around.”
“You’re good with him,” he said abruptly. “You have a kind heart, Gillian.”
She watched him walk away. The sun seemed to be following him. Beams of light shone down on his head and shoulders as he crossed the glen, and in the golden glow, her bronzed warrior looked as though he’d been sculpted by God in the archangel Michael’s image so that he, too, could fight the demons roaming the world. It was at that moment that she became aware of him in a way she never had before. Now she reacted as a woman, and she was consumed with a yearning so intense tears came into her eyes. Annie and Kevin Drummond’s charming home suddenly came into her mind. She pictured their pretty little cottage, but in her fantasy, Kevin wasn’t standing in the doorway, Brodick was, and he was beckoning her.
Daydreams were dangerous because they made her wish for things she could never have.
“Milady, is something wrong?” Liam asked.
At the sound of his voice she jumped. “No, nothing’s wrong.”
Before he could question her further, she picked up her skirts and hurried to her horse. She couldn’t get a proper grip with her left hand, and after trying twice without success, she gave up and called Brodick for assistance.
He nudged his mount close, leaned down, and all but tossed her onto her mare’s back. Robert lifted Alec into her lap and went to fetch his horse.
“Brodick?” she whispered so the others wouldn’t overhear.
“Yes?”
“You told me that arrogance wasn’t my greatest flaw. You had another imperfection in mind?”
He’d wondered how long it would take her to get around to asking him that question and had to force himself not to laugh. “You have many flaws,” he announced. He swore he saw a spark of fire ignite in her emerald eyes as she straightened her shoulders. The lass had a temper, and he found that flaw quite pleasing. “But there was one flaw that made all the other imperfections pale in comparison.”
“Was?” she asked. “I don’t have this flaw any longer?”
“No, you don’t.”
“Pray tell,” she muttered in exasperation, “what was this terrible flaw?”
He grinned. “You used to be English.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Gillian felt as though she’d entered another world. Even the sunset seemed different in the Highlands. The sky had turned into a brilliant canvas filled with broad, sweeping strokes of gold and splashes of orange. The center of the sun was a bold red, unlike any color Gillian had ever seen before, and she knew tomorrow the palette would be just as magnificent. God, she thought, surely favored this land.
“Gillian, you know what? I’m almost home.”
“We must be close,” she replied. “We’ve climbed almost to the top of the mountain.”
Alec yawned loudly. “Tell me the story again when you scared your uncle Morgan and made him scream,” he pleaded.
“I’ve told you that story at least five times now.”
“But I want to hear it again. Please?”
“You close your eyes and rest and I’ll tell you the story again.”
Alec cuddled up against her chest and yawned once more. “I’m ready now.”
“When I was a little girl—”
“You didn’t talk for a whole long year.”
The little boy obviously had memorized the story. “Yes, that’s right. I didn’t speak for almost a full year.”
Brodick slowed his mount and waited until Gillian was even with him. He’d heard what she’d said to Alec and was curious to know the rest of the story.
“And you went to live with your Uncle Morgan, remember?”
She smiled. “I remember.”
“But you got to tell it.”
“One night I had a terrible nightmare—”
“Like the nightmares I sometimes have.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “My lady’s maid, Liese, woke me up so I’d stop screaming, and as was her habit, she held me in her lap and rocked me.”
“And then she almost dropped you on top of your head ’cause you finally talked to her.”
“That’s right, Alec.”
“And the bad man who told you you killed your sister lied ’cause Liese said you didn’t kill her. He was being mean, but you know what?”
“No, what?”
“Uncle Brodick will make him sorry he was mean.”
Embarrassed because she knew Brodick could hear what the child was saying, she hastily continued the story.
“I was very happy to learn that Christen was alive, but then I also worried that she might be lost. Liese told me not to fret about my sister because she was certain my Uncle Morgan would help me find her. She said that all I needed to do was ask him. She meant for me to wait until morning, but I surprised her when I jumped off her lap and went running to my uncle’s chamber.”
“’Cause it was the middle of the night, right?”
“Right,” she answered.
Alec started giggling because he knew what was coming and he could hardly contain himself. His shoulders shook as he covered his mouth with one hand and eagerly waited, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.
“Liese tried to stop me, but she wasn’t fast enough, and she couldn’t chase me into my uncle’s private chamber. I ran to the side of his bed, climbed u
p on the platform, and poked him in the ribs to get him to wake up. He was in such a deep sleep, he was snoring, and no matter how hard I poked and prodded, I couldn’t get him to open his eyes.”
The story captured Brodick’s attention, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the way she told the tale or if it was Alec’s reaction that so amused him. The child could hardly sit still in her lap.
“And then what did you do?” Alec demanded.
“You know very well what I did. I’ve told you this story so many times you know it better than I do.”
“But you got to tell it.”
“I shouted at the poor man and gave him quite a fright.”
Alec burst into raucous laughter. “And then he screamed, right?”
“Oh, my, yes, he screamed all right.”
“And then you screamed, didn’t you?”
She laughed. “Yes, I did. Poor Uncle was so startled, he leapt up and grabbed his sword, but his feet got all tangled up in the covers, and he fell out of bed and rolled all the way down the platform. And that’s the end of the story.”
“But you got to tell how you followed him around everywhere he went, talking and talking and talking all the day long.”
“You just told it,” she said. “Uncle told me that for the year I didn’t speak he would pray every night that I would one day say his name—”
“But when you started talking and you wouldn’t stop, that’s when he started praying for a little peace and quiet?”
“Yes,” she answered. “You know, Alec, when you get home, there’s going to be quite a lot of excitement, and I doubt you’ll get to bed early tonight. Why don’t you close your eyes and rest?”
Yawning, he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Gillian?” he whispered.
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, honey bear.”
The little boy was clearly worn out and fell asleep minutes later. It was blissfully silent as they continued the steep climb up the side of the mountain. Every once in a while, Brodick would turn back and look at her, a puzzled expression on his face, as though he were trying to work something out in his mind.