“Aye. That was fine, lad. But remember,” Sutton said, recalling the words of one of his wise old tutors, “the tree is not tossing knives at you as you approach. Think how much harder it would be if you were forced to evade returning weapons as you advanced.”
At once the boy’s smile of triumph faded and he attacked this latest lesson with a vengeance, imagining with each toss of his knife that the tree was fighting back.
Sutton thought about the mission that had brought him here. He had journeyed to Inverene House to confront Upton Lamont, an old enemy. Instead, he had found a man whose fortress had been invaded, his wife killed, his only son crippled. Sutton experienced a wave of annoyance at himself for his impatience with his own infirmities. How could he feel sorry for himself when these Lamonts had suffered so much more? Still, his loss of memory of that night plagued him.
“Look, Sutton!” the lad shouted.
Sutton counted four dirks within the small knot of the tree. His admiration for the boy grew. Edan was indeed an apt pupil.
“Well done,” he called. “We will end the lesson for today. You may ride the hills now until you tire. As for me, I must go inside and rest. But on the morrow, I will think of something more challenging, for I can see that your skills are growing faster than the goals I have set for you.”
With a victorious smile, Edan turned his mount toward the flock of sheep in the distance. As soon as he left, Sabina hurried toward the figure under the tree and helped him to his feet, then folded the fur robe.
With reluctance, Sutton slipped his arm around the lass’s shoulder, feeling the delicate bones beneath his touch. They walked slowly toward the scullery door.
“I thought Adair was going to assist me,” Sutton muttered.
“He was needed to help with the new shed in the pasture.”
“And my brother?”
“Shaw directs the workers from the village.” She held the door and waited until he was inside, then took up her position beside him.
When Sutton’s arm draped around her shoulder, she steeled herself against the feelings that began, low and deep, and spread through her veins like liquid fire. It happened each time he touched her. This man, this rugged Campbell warrior, must never know the depth of feeling he stirred in her. For if he guessed at her reaction to him, she would be lost.
Beside her, Sutton climbed the stairs and fought his own demons. All his life women had been attracted to him, and he to them. His enjoyment of them had been as easy, as natural, as his enjoyment of good food or fine ale. He had never questioned his right to sample their charms, as long as they’d been freely given. But this woman was unlike any he’d ever met. The more he came to know her, the more he realized that she was not a woman he could love and easily walk away from. She had let him know, by both word and deed, that she was not the least bit interested in him as a man, but saw him merely as a wounded animal that needed her care. That intrigued him, for he liked nothing better than a challenge. But that was a mistake. When he thought about seducing her, he discovered that he could not, for he knew instinctively that this woman, once tasted, would linger on his tongue for a lifetime, making all other women seem unimportant by comparison. To love her was to lose himself, his own identity. His days of womanizing would be over. He would become that which he’d vowed never to become, a man weakened by—nay, chained by—love. And that he must never allow.
As they reached the top of the stairs and headed toward her chambers, he risked a glance at her lovely profile. The truth was, the sight of Sabina Lamont took his breath away. She was by far the loveliest female he had ever seen. And not only lovely to look at, she was a thing of beauty inside, . well. Her devotion to her family was unquestioned. Her kindness to all, even the most lowly servants, was a joy to behold. And her attention to him, though he’d made it as difficult as possible, had been unwavering.
“At last. You will find rest.” She opened the door to her chambers and helped him inside.
As he eased himself down upon the pallet, she knelt beside him and spread the fur robe over him. Before she could get to her feet he caught her hand in his.
“Thank you, my lady. I could not have made it without you.”
She dimpled at the seriousness of his tone. “I think there are strengths within you that you are not aware of. I have no doubt that even without my help, you would find a way to your pallet.”
She started to pull her hand away, but he held her fast. “Perhaps, my lady. But you make my journey easy.”
She stared down at his offending hand. “And you, sir, make mine difficult.”
He shot her that charming grin that had melted the hearts of so many maidens across the Highlands. “Is my company so painful to endure?”
“Aye.” She spoke the word vehemently.
In the next instant she surprised them both by bursting into tears.
“Oh, my lady.” Sutton knelt up and caught her by the upper arms.
Humiliated, she covered her face with her hands. “Tell me what I’ve done to cause your tears,” he murmured as he gathered her into his arms and began to stroke her hair. “For I will do anything to make amends.”
At his tender ministrations, her tears increased and her body shook with sobs. And all the while, he stroked and soothed and whispered words meant to comfort.
When at last her crying subsided, he held her a little away and said, “Can you tell me now what I have done, that I may atone?”
“It is not you,” she said haltingly. “It is I.”
“I do not understand.”
“I wanted to hate you, for you are a Campbell. And I think, for a little while, I managed to remember that. But soon I found myself forgetting. And now, when you are so kind to Edan, I find myself wishing...”
“Wishing what, my lady?”
The tears started again, and she said between sobs, “Wishing that you would never get strong enough to leave. And that is a selfish wish, unworthy of me. And wishing that you would stay, and defend us against our enemies. But that is a foolish wish, for our enemies are your clan, the Campbells.”
“Oh, my lady.” He framed her face with his hands and bent his lips to her cheek.
With great tenderness he kissed away her tears. He heard her little intake of breath and knew that he’d overstepped his bounds. But it was too late. His lips moved over her face with exquisite care, tasting, nibbling at the corner of her brow, her forehead, even the tip of her nose.
Sabina had never known such feelings. Confusion. Elation. Wonderment. And slowly, ever so slowly, an awakening to a need deeper than any other. She could wait no longer to taste his lips.
With a little moan of pleasure she lifted her face and offered her lips. His mouth moved over hers, seducing, then devouring, as her hunger fueled his own.
For Sutton, all weariness vanished. The pain of his wounds no longer tormented him. All that mattered, all that he was aware of, was this woman in his arms. Her lips were the sweetest he’d ever tasted.
He had not planned this; had not wanted it. But now, as she moved in his arms and offered him the greatest gift of all, he knew he was lost. From this moment on, there would be no other woman. From this moment on, he was hers, and hers alone.
Shaw and the men trooped into the great hall for their midday repast. The work in the fields had gone well. Several sheds had already been completed. It was hoped that by the time the flocks began their spring lambing, all the outbuildings would be repaired.
Shaw watched as Sutton entered the room, leaning heavily on Sabina. As they walked, the two looked into each other’s eyes and shared whispered words that made them both smile.
Shaw was puzzled. What had transpired between these two that they should suddenly feel so at ease?
Almost at once, the truth dawned. He watched them more carefully, as if hoping to deny what his heart already knew. But the more he watched them, the more he was convinced. His brother and Sabina had become intimate. There was no other explanation for the
ir behavior.
He glanced at Merritt and saw that she, too, was watching. She happened to turn and meet his gaze. At once her cheeks colored and she looked away.
Aye, he thought. The lass sees, also. And knows.
Shaw felt a welling of anger. His brother’s wenching had always been a matter of much discussion in their family. And they had long looked the other way, rather than condemn him for his obvious weakness. But this was different. Sabina had dedicated herself to Sutton’s care. She had endured his cruelty when he was in a fevered state, and had gone without food and rest to see to his recovery. And now, while a guest in her house, he had dared to repay this sweet creature by seducing her.
As they took their places at table, Shaw crossed the room and caught Sutton’s arm roughly. “I would have a word with you.”
“Can it not wait until after we have eaten?”
Astra directed the wenches to begin serving the meal.
“Nay,” Shaw said angrily. “We must resolve something between us—”
Before he could say more, one of the servants burst into the great hail shouting, “M’laird. They’ve stolen the lad.”
All heads turned toward him. It was Shaw who demanded, “What are you saying?”
“Young Edan. He was riding near the forest, when a score of men on horseback burst from their hiding places and snatched him from his horse.”
Upton leapt to his feet, clinging to the table for support. A score of men, you say? Did you recognize any of them?”
“Nay, my laird. But I know they were not from our village.”
“Campbells,” one of the serving wenches cried.
“Aye,” came the voice of a villager who was seated at a table. “Was it not Sutton Campbell who suggested the lad ride today?”
Sutton was about to speak in his own defense, but before he could say a word, Sabina commanded imperiously, “You will be quiet.”
All eyes turned to this normally docile creature, but her eyes blazed in anger, and Shaw knew in that moment that she had not merely been seduced. She was a woman who was indeed in love, for her defense of her man was fierce and all-consuming.
“Sutton and Shaw Campbell have done everything they can to help us in our need. I will not hear another word against them.”
Merritt joined her sister. “We must not become divided in our loyalties. Shaw, we must go after him,” she cried. “You know what they will do to him.”
“Aye.” Shaw touched a hand to her arm. “I will go.”
“You?” Sutton could not hide his astonishment as he gripped Sabina’s arm for support. “Brother, this calls for warriors. I am the one who must lead this charge.”
“If you but had your strength, I have no doubt of it,” Shaw said with sudden calm. All his earlier anger against his brother had faded, to be replaced with a burning hatred for the men who had abducted Edan. “But it is impossible for you to sit a horse in your present state.”
“The lad is my only son,” Upton shouted. All eyes turned to him as he added, “His protection is my responsibility.’’
“Nay, my laird,” Shaw said as firmly as he dared. “Like Sutton, you have not regained your strength for such a difficult undertaking. This I pledge. I shall see to him. And I give you my word. I will not fail.”
As Shaw began striding from the room, Merritt started to follow. He turned on her. “You will remain here with your father.”
She refused to be deterred. “I do not take orders from you, Campbell. You have no right to keep me here.”
His hands shot out, catching her roughly by the upper arms. His voice was a low rasp of fury. “I leave you no choice. I cannot afford to worry about you while I search for your brother.”
She struggled to pull free. “You do not know the forest as I do. Without me you will become hopelessly lost.”
“You heard me, my lady.” He pushed her aside and strode from the room. Over his shoulder he called, “I ride alone.”
The others in the great hall had fallen deathly silent. This savage, ferocious, intense warrior was a side of Shaw Campbell that none had ever seen.
As Shaw raced up the stairs to retrieve his traveling cloak and weapons, Merritt heard him calling orders to a servant to saddle his mount.
She stood uncertainly for a moment, gazing first at her sister, who clung to Sutton’s arm as if clinging to life itself, and then at her father, who sat slumped in his chair, his head bent, eyes downcast. He had lost so much in his life. His wife, his clan, his purpose for living. How could he survive the loss of his son?
“Please,” she prayed fervently. “Let the Campbell get there in time to save Edan. And please,” she added as tears stung her eyes, “bring them both safely home to Inverene House.”
For she knew, in that instant, that both her little brother and Shaw Campbell were equally important to her. Both owned her heart. And the loss of either of them would leave a void in her life that would never be filled.
Chapter Twenty
Darkness came early in the Highland forest. Though the valleys below were still bathed in a glorious sunset, here in the dense woods, the tallest of the trees blotted out all light.
Shaw moved slowly, slipping often from the saddle to the ground to look for evidence that the group of horsemen had passed this way. Crumpled underbrush, broken branches, hoofprints in the earth were all indications that he was on the right path.
While he tracked the band of thieves, he found himself recalling bits and pieces of his early childhood spent with his father. The warrior skills he had thought lost came rushing back to him.
Modric had been known as a fierce warrior, as well as a protector of his people. His skill at tracking invaders who snatched innocent women and children had become legend. It was said that Modric could ride the length and breadth of Scotland without taking time to rest, to assure that the innocent were returned to their families and the guilty were punished. His justice was swift and final. But he was also known as a fair and just leader, slow to anger, quick to forgive.
How fortunate, Shaw mused, that when their parents had been wrenched from them, he and his brothers and sister had been taken in by the good monks of Saint Collum. What would their lives have been like without that charity? Shaw could still recall those first days and nights, having suffered the loss of all that was familiar. Clinging to their older brother, Dillon, they had felt alone, bewildered, adrift. But at least they had had each other.
Edan was alone. Without the use of his legs, he was quite helpless. What torments must the lad be suffering?
That thought drove Shaw as he slid from the saddle once more and, leading his mount, trudged through the tangled vines and dense growth of the forest, searching for a trail. He must not fail the lad. Edan’s life depended upon it.
He had lost their trail.
Shaw knelt on the bank of the river, swollen with spring rain, and peered through the darkness. He had wasted precious time crossing from one side of the river to the other. But he could find no trace of the horsemen. He knew they had entered the water at this point, and had remained in the water, hoping to elude capture. But had they fled upstream or down? More precious time would be wasted while he searched for tracks.
He cursed and pulled himself into the saddle. The choice was his to make. If it took him until morning light, he would search first downstream and then up, until he found their trail.
He shook off the weariness that threatened. He would not rest, could not, until he found the lad. He urged his mount into the water and headed downstream.
At a sound behind him, he drew his sword and wheeled his mount. A cloaked figure leading a horse stepped from the cover of darkness.
“You!” he roared, as he recognized Merritt, dressed in the garb of a stableboy. He returned his sword to the scabbard.
“Aye, Campbell. I see it is as I’d predicted. Without me you are lost.”
“And how would you know such a thing?”
“Because I have been followin
g you. You did admirably,” she added, “until now. I have waited and watched, hoping to keep my presence unknown, while you frantically crossed the river and back. But now I see that I must take matters into my own hands.”
“How noble of you. Are you suggesting that you know which way the knaves went?”
“Aye,” she said with a smug smile. “I have only now realized. They went upstream.”
She saw the look of disbelief that crossed his face. “Why upstream?”
“Because,” she said, pulling herself into the saddle, “that takes them deeper into Campbell terrain, where they will be offered protection for their deceit. If they go downstream, they risk running into villagers loyal to my father.”
Shaw knew at once that she was correct. He had still been mentally denying that these villains were loyal to one of his own clan. “Aye. Of course. Thank you, my lady. Now take yourself back to your father’s fortress at once.”
As he turned his horse she reached out and caught his reins. “You do not really believe that I came all this way just to be sent home like some helpless female?”
Anger and frustration surfaced. “We waste time. You heard my command earlier. I do this thing alone.”
Her eyes blazed. “I do not obey commands from a Campbell. It is my brother we seek. And I will not return to Inverene House until he returns with me.”
“Little fool,” he muttered. “I will not have you exposed to danger, too.” His hand tangled in her hair and he pulled her face close. “It is bad enough that Edan is in the clutches of those villains. I could not bear it if you suffered the same fate.”
At his outburst, all the fire seemed to go out of her. She surprised him by touching a hand to his cheek. “Aye, Campbell,” she whispered. “I do understand, for I know that same fear for you. But know this, also. I am handy with sword and dirk, and I know this forest. With me at your side, you stand a better chance of rescuing Edan. And his safety must be the only thing that matters. Not even our... feelings for each other can matter at such a time.”
He took a deep breath, then brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the palm. “Let us ride, then. For the night is swiftly passing. And darkness is our best hope of surprise.”