She laughed and ran her hand over his chest as he slid his hand down her side. “Come, move against me. We must sleep.”
She sighed and nestled against him, and he thought he could not have been more pleased, except if he could have made love to her.
“We can, if you wish it,” she said softly against his chest, as if she knew his private thoughts.
“Nay, you must rest and we must ride for far too long on the morrow. When we are home, I will ravage you every chance I get.”
She smiled against his chest. “I will insist you keep your promise.”
He chuckled. “Of that, you can be assured.”
Chapter 15
The next morn, they broke their fast and found their horses already saddled, provisions packed, and everyone ready to ride. Despite being half to fully aroused last night due to Isobel’s soft, naked body pressed against his, Marcus was glad they had waited to make love because of the long ride ahead of them, and he wanted Isobel to always cherish their lovemaking.
He’d privately remarked to Tibold about the bruises on her arms and how violent the men had been with her when they had tried to remove her from the chamber. Tibold assured him he’d mete out the punishment. As to the maid who had led John Pembroke’s men into the guest chamber, Tibold had not banished her from the clan, but had counseled her firmly, and she was given extra work to perform, to Isobel’s relief.
With well wishes from Edana, Tibold, and several others on the staff—while John and his men had been noticeably absent at the meal—Marcus and Isobel and their party were off with an additional half a dozen Chattan clansmen to protect them.
Angus moved up alongside Marcus. “Tibold confined them in the dungeon for the night because of the fights between his men and John’s last eve. Tibold figured a stay there would impress upon the earl to keep his men in line. They willna be released from there until later this morn, and not from the grounds until Tibold is certain we have time to arrive safely at Lochaven.”
“Good, because if I see him while we are on our way, I will likely kill him,” Marcus said. “And I would rather not if I can help it.”
The first day of their journey, they met with no difficulties as gray clouds filled the sky and a chilly, stiff breeze continued to blow as they made their way across streams and glens, through forests, and managed to cross one river. But the second day, the rains started again and visibility was obscured. They paused at the edge of a stream flowing over rocks from the mountains in the distance and gave their horses a rest.
“How are you holding up, lass?” Marcus asked, helping Isobel down from her horse. She was stiff and quiet, keeping her brat secured over her head to shelter her from the pouring rain.
She smiled brightly at him, albeit he could see she was tired and the way she moved and grimaced she was sore from the long ride, but he loved the way she could make him feel warm all the way to the marrow of his bones just with that one bright smile.
“I am going home with you,” she said, “and that makes me feel as good as when we made love last eve.”
He grinned and pulled her into a warm embrace. “We will be getting in verra late this eve if you can manage.”
“Aye. I can.”
Still, he worried about her. She was a lady, raised in an English household, and he was certain that traveling for days like this was not something she had oft experienced, if ever. He admired her for her drive to continue on. But he didn’t want her growing ill.
“We will see. If the journey takes us too long, we will stop and—”
Her brows rose as if she would challenge him if he mentioned her condition and he continued, “Rest the horses. We dinna want to push them too hard and overtire them. Especially with the weather such as it is.”
“Aye, true.” She looked like she stubbornly resisted the idea that she would be overly tired and hold them up.
Though Marcus truly wished to get her to his castle where she would be better protected.
By gloaming, they still had about two hours to ride and that was entirely too much time left for either the horses or Isobel to travel.
“We will stop,” Marcus said to Isobel and the men after putting in seven hours of traveling already.
“Aye,” Angus said. “My horse is tired. I fathom he would collapse if we tried to make the rest of the journey.”
“Mine as well,” Gunnolf said.
“We will rest a few hours and then head out again,” Marcus said.
Isobel shook her head as Marcus helped her down. She was certain that the men’s concern was not all about their horses.
The rains had stopped, but a dense fog had settled over the area. And she surveyed the boulders surrounding them, recognizing the crannog as a form of defensive enclosure on a peninsula surrounded on three sides by the loch. Both Marcus’s cousins, Rob and Finbar, had ridden well ahead of them, and then returned shaking their heads as they set up their bedding in the crannog, the southeast portion enclosed by an arc of boulders standing six feet tall, with irregularly spaced gaps to use arrows in defense. The space was forty square feet, the ground level and two feet above the surrounding area with the loch behind them.
It appeared that both ancient peoples and more modern ones after that, most likely Marcus and his clan, had worked to fortify it. It was a better defense than nothing, and it meant they were getting closer to his keep. She noted the saddle quern and the cylindrical hand stone used to grind grain and the hearth that had been used for cooking and heat. She realized some of Marcus’s clansmen must stay here for days at a time.
The Chattan brothers had been trailing way behind and had spread out. Now they all came into view, and again, they were shaking their heads, confirming they had not seen any trouble behind them.
She was glad to see the brothers rejoin them and fill out their defensive numbers again, but the fact that they were ensuring no one was following them, or ahead of them, made her believe Marcus had some concern.
“Do you suspect Tibold would have let John and his men go and they are following us?” Isobel asked Marcus.
“Nay, lass. My uncle is good at his word,” Marcus said.
“Aye,” Kayne said. “Da wouldna let the swine—beg your forgiveness for saying so, Lady Isobel—but he wouldna let the men leave until he was certain we arrived. Mayhap two days from now. He would give us more time than necessary in the event we ran into difficulties.”
She realized that John was not truly any relation to her. Not a cousin at all, since he was Lord Pembroke’s nephew and she was no longer Lord Pembroke’s daughter.
So who were they concerned about? The villain who had paid men to attack her escort? Would he send men this far northwest into the Highlands?
Then she wondered if the concern was about her real father. Though she hated to imagine him as such, just as he had not claimed her either.
“You are concerned that someone else could be following us or lying in wait ahead?” She wanted to know the truth.
“Aye.” Marcus offered her bread and porridge. “Laren MacLauchlan’s men. I doubt he would lead them. But he wouldn’t hesitate to send his men to bring you back, if that is the case. Instead of trying to locate us, he could verra well have come here instead, waiting for our return. Except we have more numbers than he would suspect if he believed we were still traveling with the same amount of men as when we stopped off at the Kerr’s hunting lodge.”
She was glad they had more numbers than before, but unsettled with the notion that Marcus and the others would have to fight any men, particularly when they had no claim to her.
After they ate, the Chattan brothers took first watch as everyone else settled down to sleep for a few hours.
“We will leave at the first hint of light in the sky.” Marcus wrapped Isobel in his arms, a spare plaid securely around them. “It willna be much longer after that.”
“Will your clansmen accept me?” Isobel asked quite sincerely. She still worried that they would either see
her as being from the enemy clan, or they would see her as a Sassenach.
“They will adore you.” Marcus kissed her forehead and snuggled closer to her. “You know how my cousins are.”
“Aye, but they are used to me. They have known me since we were young. But…”
Marcus sighed. “Sometimes I have been a tyrant when I have returned from seeing you and knowing I was unable to have you for my wife. My people will be more than happy to learn ‘tis now so.”
She smiled a little at his saying so. “But I am…”
“My beloved wife, lass. That is all that anyone cares about. They will love you as much as I do. Have I told you that you worry overmuch?”
She smiled and snuggled closer to him, loving his warmth and strength. “Once,” she said, “mayhap.”
He chuckled for he had told her numerous times that she did.
“When we reach the keep—”
“I will have a bath prepared for the both of us, then we will meet in the kirk to be wed.”
She suddenly felt sad with the notion. She’d always wanted her father to take part, and she wanted Mary there to share the experience with her, and someday hold her bairns. She could not imagine Mary not being there.
When she didn’t say anything, Marcus said, “You wish Mary to witness the celebration.”
She loved how sensitive he could be where her feelings were concerned.
“Aye. ‘Tis not that I wish to delay a kirk wedding, but I only wish Mary to be there with me as she is like my second mother.”
“I understand. As long as you dinna mind that we continue to be with one another as a married couple until we can bring her here.”
She kissed his mouth. “Thank you, Marcus. I love you.”
“I would do anything for you, lass. You only have but to ask. Sleep now, and we will leave soon.”
“I am…ready for more,” she whispered.
He laughed. “‘Tis good to know. I have been ready forever.”
She smiled, loving that he felt that way. Someday, maybe, she would share how much she’d thought of him when she was alone in her bedchamber at night.
They slept for a short while and she thought they would sleep longer, or that the dawning daylight would wake her as she was not used to sleeping outside of a keep when she heard shouts off in the distance.
Marcus quickly pulled away from her, the spare plaid they used as a blanket instantly cast aside, and she was chilled at once. He jumped to his feet. In the dark, she heard him unsheathe his sword. Her heart pounding, she quickly sat up now, but was unsure as to what to do. She didn’t want to get in the way of the men, who did know what to do, but she remained quiet, as did everyone around her. The only sounds were that of the men quickly rising to their feet and unsheathing their swords.
It was a chilling sound and most likely meant it could only lead to fighting and killing. She involuntarily shivered.
No one could see anyone in the dark, but suddenly, Marcus was crouching next to her, his hand touching her shoulder as he tried to locate her, and she jumped a little. He whispered, “Stay inside of the fortification, with your back up against the wall, lass. There are no openings against this wall, which is why we slept here.”
“Aye,” she whispered. “Is there naught I can do?”
“Nay, just stay out of harm’s way, lass.” Then he kissed her lips and he stood again, his leg against her hip.
She knew then he planned to stay close at hand. She was glad for it as she unsheathed her sgian dubh, and then leaned her back against the boulder, ready to stand if she thought she could help. She shivered from the cold and the worry, her heart thundering in her ears.
Horses galloped toward them and she was dying to stand and peek through the openings in the boulders to see who was riding, with the sun just beginning its ascent, a lightening of the sky occurring, and the faint orange glow just appearing.
She wanted to ask if the riders were their men or the enemy’s, but she kept quiet like the men did, not wanting to disturb their warrior concentration. Because of the dark and the distance from the riders to the crannog, Marcus and the others probably couldn’t make out who the men were anyway.
She thought the horses would have had enough rest and wished they could ride the remaining miles to Lochaven to avoid a battle, but she knew that the number of miles they had to still travel would be far too great to outride men determined to fight her escort.
The horses were nearly to the crannog and she could now see the men and the horses inside the crannog, swords in hand, tense, ready. Two men had arrows and bows readied as they peered through the slots between the boulders.
“‘Tis Gildas,” Rob said quietly.
“And Kayne,” Finbar said.
The men galloped onto the peninsula and soon entered the crannog. They dismounted and Rob took their reins and led the horses to the other side of the barrier to stay with the others.
“What happened?” Marcus asked, his voice hushed.
“We were attacked. Halwn and the rest of our brothers are coming,” Kayne said, then drank some ale.
“We killed a couple of their men,” Gildas said, “but there were too many of them.”
“How many?” Marcus asked.
“We counted fifteen torches among them. Mayhap more. We targeted two of the men closest to us as they had seen us and we had no choice. We hoped to kill them without alerting the others, but that didna happen. Then we left in a hurry as their men gathered to fight us,” Kayne said.
Isobel was now standing, shaken, again wanting to leave this place before they were surrounded.
“Go, Rob, get reinforcements,” Marcus said.
Rob immediately mounted his horse and took off.
But it would take two hours or so for him to reach the castle and another two to return with more men.
“We stay here as there isna any way that we could reach the keep before we are engaged in combat,” Marcus said.
“Was it MacLauchlan’s men?” Isobel asked.
“We couldna tell, lass,” Kayne said. “All we know is that they were looking for you, and we overheard their plans to stop us before we reached the safety of the castle. They have been here for some time, and waiting on us, though they were no’ sure which path we would take. Then one of their scouts had seen our tracks in the mud and informed them as to our increased number. Though they were no’ for sure if the riders included you and Marcus or if they were more of his kin scouting the area for trouble.”
“I would send you off with a couple of my men, if I thought you could travel to the keep without running into trouble,” Marcus said, “but I fear it would be too much of a risk.”
She agreed and was glad that at least the Chattan brothers were all accounted for.
“They could barrage us with arrows, but they would chance hitting Lady Isobel,” Angus said.
“They have only the one way in, and the peninsula can only take a couple of horses at a time so they willna be able to reach us en masse,” Marcus said. “We will have to wait for reinforcements. They may think to cut us off and not have that ability.”
The sun was rising, though a thick gray mist cloaked the area still, and Isobel was glad for that because the men coming for her wouldn’t be able to clearly see them any more than they could see the brigands. She was relieved that this location seemed to be defendable by the small force.
“Rest,” Marcus said to the brothers, but they looked like they were ready for a fight and resting wasn’t in the plans. “You have been on guard duty. Rest. If the fighting begins, you need to be well-rested.”
Gildas, the oldest of the brothers here, said, “Aye. Grab your plaids, brothers. Marcus is right.”
Drummond, the youngest, grunted. Of all the brothers, he was the hothead and the first ready for a battle.
When the brothers settled down, the others made their horses lie down so the aggressors could not see how many they numbered. And then everyone remained quiet. Four of the
men readied bows and arrows at the gaps between the stones or at the entrance to the crannog.
Everyone else took seats and watched out the openings for any sign of movement. Isobel wanted to watch also, but Marcus wanted her away from any of the openings for her own protection. She still wanted to watch, to do something, should she see some sign of the men and help to alert the others if nothing else.
He sat down with her on the grassy floor and took her in his arms. She wasn’t sure what he was intending to do until he whispered, “Sleep, lass, so that when we have a chance, we can leave here and continue on our way.”
He acted as though there would be no fight and that everything was calm.
“You didna have enough sleep,” he said. “I hadna intended for us to wake that early.”
Realizing she could do nothing else, she curled up against Marcus’s body. He wrapped the spare plaid around them and he closed his eyes.
She noted some of the men casting glances their way, smiling a little. She suspected if they could have been where Marcus was, they would have traded places in a heartbeat.
“Marcus?” she whispered.
“Aye, lass.”
“I do not want to go with those men.”
“Aye, and you willna.”
“But if it means no blood would be shed…”
He shook his head. “I wouldna give you up to keep the peace. What kind of a husband would that make me?”
“I was just thinking that if it would make any difference at all…”
“Nay.”
She sighed and for a short while she slept until she felt Marcus tense beneath her, and she heard the sound of horses moving toward them. Her skin freckled with goose bumps. She wished there was some reasonable way out of this.
“Five men are moving out of the fog,” Finbar whispered.
“Should we shoot them?” Angus said.
Niall ground his teeth. “I would be done with them, reduce the numbers we have to fight.”
“Nay,” Marcus said, watching the men. “They have to know they are a target. Let them have their say.”