Highlander's Challenge (28 page)

The dim light of the fire and the low burning candle by the bed illuminated his face. He looked tired, she realized. Dark shadows lay beneath his lion eyes, while a new beard hid the sharp angles of his face. She touched his jaw with the barest tip of her fingers before she jerked them back.

"Nay, lass," he whispered, clasping her hand. His steady gaze sent a quiver running through her as he pressed his lips to backs of her fingers. The warmth of his breath brushed across her skin, bringing to life all the things she knew they could never share. All the hopes and desires she'd buried deep down inside as she watched him with Aileen. His betrothed.

In a blink it all flooded back to her. The wine, the poison—

revisiting her dinner, while MacLean held her head, no less. She groaned and covered her face with her hands. 268

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"Dinnae tell me you're still sick." He gently took her hands from her face. "How do you, lass? Tell me true."

"I'm okay. Just a little embarrassed, I guess."
And hurt
that you're only being nice to me because we're friends and
nothing more.

He stood and fluffed her pillow, righted her in the bed, then pulled the covers up to her chin. And she let him, enjoying every scrap of tenderness, no matter how inconsequential.

"You've had a hard two days. 'Tis glad, I am, the worst is past."

"Two days!" Her brain slid into soldier mode. She smacked at his hands where he continued to tug and tuck at the blanket. "Stop mothering me and tell me what you did with Maighread. How's Aileen? Is your father all right? Did you put a guard on the larder and double the men at the gates?"

"Of all the women," he muttered, shaking his head. "Aileen didna drink as much as you and was much better yesterday. As for my father, he's well. Maighread, however, has disappeared." He held up his hand, stopping her before she could speak. "I have sent a small search party tae find her."

"Oh, how I'd like to get my hands on her," she growled, fisting the covers tightly.

"As would I, but you are tae stay in bed and finish mending."

"I've done nothing but rest since that witch slipped me a micky. I'm all right," she added with a huff, realizing he had no clue what she meant.

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One lone brow rose sharply as he looked at her. "You're not tae get out of that bed."

"Fine. But I don't need you in here playing nursemaid. Beat it, Sasquatch," she said, waving her hand. Much more of this, and she wouldn't be able to hold herself together. He grumbled a few curses beneath his breath as he strode to the door. "I've gone daft, tae be sure."

"Wait a minute," she called, remembering some of the things he'd said while she'd been sick.

He turned with a scowl and she grinned.

"Do I remember hearing you say you believe me? About where I'm from?"

"Aye," he said with a nod. "But not a word of it tae another soul, you ken?"

"My lips are sealed," she said, secretly thrilled that he believed her.

He shifted his gaze to the window. "The sun will be up soon, but you are not tae get out of bed," he said, waggling his finger at her. "But if you have need of anything..." He dropped his hand, his features softening. "If you should have need of me, tell Elspeth or Fiona, and they will find me." She cocked her head and studied him closely. The way he'd held her when she was sick, the way he fussed over her now, proved without a doubt he cared for her. Something no man had ever done before.

"Thank you," she said.

His brow furrowed a moment and his lips parted, as if he wished to say something, then he straightened his back and with a firm nod strode from the room.

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Snuggling beneath the covers, a smile eased over her lips. She pressed her hand to her breast and stroked the back where his lips had touched. But they were only friends. He was getting married. A sight she really didn't want to witness. 271

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Colin thought to retire to his own chamber, now that she was out of danger, but knew it was a wasted effort. He wanted to tell her of his heart, to say the words, but they'd lodged in his throat, stealing his voice. How was he to woo the woman if he couldn't even admit openly that he cared for her? He had little experience in courting, and Amelia was not the sort to want flowers and pretty words. Or would she? She was a woman, regardless of her unusual skills and sharp tongue.

He walked the battlements until the sun rose, but no divine insight was gifted him. He met Ian on his way to the great hall to break his fast.

"I would think you would be happy today, but from the sour look on your face, I would say not," Ian said. News of Amelia's recovery had obviously been spread throughout the keep.

Colin placed a hand against his friend's chest as they stepped off the stairs, stopping him. "I must ask a favor." And damned if it didn't gall him to do it.

"Of course, my friend."

"I need tae know—I need tae know how tae woo her," he spat out.

"I see. And you wish me to teach you," Ian said with a choked chuckle.

"'Tis no laughing matter, lest you care tae find a few of your pretty teeth missing."

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Ian cleared his throat and slapped him on the back. "Quite right. This is serious business. Especially considering the lady in question." They crossed the hall and took their seats. "The usual will not work with her. Flowers and sonnets and the like." He tore off a piece of fresh bread and chewed thoughtfully, wearing on Colin's nerves. But at least he'd assumed correctly about the flowers.

"Perhaps a new blade, one fashioned with jewels. Although hers is rather unique," Ian said.

"Aye, 'tis true." Colin nudged him with his elbow as he lifted his cup. "Think of something else."

"There you are, my lads," his father said as he strolled into the hall. "I have a need tae speak with both of you."

"Is something amiss?" Colin asked around a mouthful of food.

"Nay, nay. Robert tells me Aileen is fit to travel and wishes to return home in a day or so." His father nodded to Robert sitting by Aileen at the far end of the table. "He will take what we've learned back to MacKenzie. If all goes well, we will meet a few days hence where our lands join along the road. There is much tae discuss should the Campbells decide tae strike openly."

Colin opened his mouth to speak, as Fiona rushed into the hall and came to an abrupt halt by his aunt. Her gaze darted to him several times as she whispered rapidly to Elspeth. His stomach roiled as his aunt's eyes widened and focused on him.

Ignoring his father and Ian's continued conversation, he got to his feet. "Fiona!"

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The lass jerked at his bellow and warily turned to face him.

"What has happened?" he asked, lowering his voice, but it was with great effort. He knew, deep in his heart, that whatever bad news she had to impart, it involved Amelia.

"The lass has left," Elspeth said, softly patting Fiona's wringing hands.

Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, he quickly strode from the room toward the stable, hardly noting the men who followed in his wake. He would find her, and when he did he'd flail her hide. The woman had barely beaten death. What could've possessed her to leave?

Did she hunt for his cousin, determined to bring her to justice, or was there a more heartrending reason? One he feared may be the true cause. Regardless, he had to find her. He began saddling his horse and turned to find more than half the garrison, Ian included, doing the same. She'd won them over with her courage, her skills, and her rare smiles. But they all couldn't go in search of her. They were in the middle of a war. Someone had to stay behind and guard the clan and Castle Arreyder, not to mention he still had a small party searching for Maighread. They were short enough men as it was.

His duty clashed sharply with his desires. He shouldn't be going at all. He should remain here where he belonged, not traipsing across the countryside looking for a redheaded shedemon from the future. He must be mad. Elspeth appeared by his father's side and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. "You must go, Colin," she said softly. "She needs you."

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His gaze shifted to his father. The old man smiled softly and nodded.

With that encouragement, he turned to the men, busily readying their mounts. "I dinnae need a guard." Scowls and sputtered arguments surrounded him.

"Love has surely addled what little wits you have, my friend, if you think you shall pass through the gates alone," Ian said.

"'Tis my concern and doesna involve the whole keep. Least of all, you," he snapped, his fear for Amelia's life stealing what little patience he possessed. He should've told her of his heart, he should've forced the words passed his constricted throat before it was too late.

Ian sighed heavily. "Do you truly wish to argue over this, wasting valuable time?"

Snarling, Colin shook his head with a weary sigh. He'd be a fool to travel alone, but he didn't wish to have others privy to her no doubt strongly voiced reasons for leaving. He singled out a select few to accompany him then mounted his horse, praying she was safe. Praying she hadn't fled because she knew of his heart's greatest desire and wanted no part of it or him.

* * * *

Tuck had gone from a somewhat unsteady walk to practically dragging her butt along the ground. Maighread's poison had done one hell of a number on her.

"If I ever get my hands on you," she snarled, propping her shoulder against a tree.

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Thoroughly exhausted from the effort it took just to speak, she slowly sank to the ground. Hating to admit it, she wished she'd waited a couple of days before heading out. But knowing that Aileen was fast on the mend meant the wedding wasn't far off.

The thought of watching Colin marry sweet, perfect, petite Aileen made her stomach churn. He probably wouldn't have appreciated her tossing up her cookies in the middle of the ceremony. A chuckle started low in her chest, bubbling up her throat and out into the chilly morning air. What a sight that would've been.

In a low formal voice, she said, "And does anyone here object to this union?"

"Raaalph," she drawled, ending with a snort. Colin would've thrown her in the loch for sure. A blade appeared beneath her chin, stifling her laughter and tensing every muscle in her body.

"'Tis a fine morn for jests, but I'm thinkin' 'tis not so fine a day fer ye."

She didn't recognize the gruff voice, which instantly made him an enemy, and her the town idiot. How could she let herself get caught off guard so easily?

Damn Maighread and her witch's brew
. Her mind raced over the situation and how to best handle things, but as weak as she was, her options were extremely limited.

He jerked her to her feet and she swayed with the sudden movement. Her left breast, although hidden well beneath her 276

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down vest, pressed against his beefy hand where he gripped her arm.

His eyes widened and he snatched off her cap. "A woman, and a big one, eh, lads?"

A few guffaws echoed around her, and she realized for the first time this cretin wasn't alone. She cursed Maighread for the hundredth time.

He leaned closer as an evil grin split his lips. "I ne'er been fond of redheads, but then I isna tae particular." Pooling her strength, she said, "Sorry to hear that, because I am." She cleanly knocked his knife from his hand and broke away from his grip with a solid blow to his jaw. In her weakened state, however, she was no match for three men and quickly found herself tied and gagged. The one who'd held the knife wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. "I aught tae slice ye open here and now, but I've a use fer ye."

She had a pretty clear idea of what that was, but held in her grimace. Somehow, she had to get herself out of this mess. A mess her stupid heart had gotten her into. She should've never let that stubborn, exasperating, overbearing—she sighed—wonderful Highlander get to her. If she'd been thinking with her head instead of her heart, she wouldn't have taken off before regaining her strength. If she'd just listened to MacLean for once and stayed in bed where she belonged, she wouldn't be dangling over some goon's shoulder, with a filthy rag in her mouth, and a serious case of dry heaves.

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Of course when MacLean bellowed like an old bear, as he usually did when imparting his so-called wisdom, she patently ignored his views on what women should and should not do. But this time, the man had been right, damn him.

* * * *

Locating her trail had been frighteningly easy. It wasn't like her, but then she was far from well. She refused to admit her lingering weakness from Maighread's treachery, but Colin knew she'd not fully recovered.

"Her tracks end here, lad," William said, his voice heavy with concern as he lifted something from the ground. Colin slid from his horse and instantly realized what had twisted William's wrinkled brow into a mass of deep crags. It was Amelia's woven bonnet.

He gently took the cap, holding back the urge to press it to his face as he cried out in anguish. The ground revealed signs of a skirmish, three, maybe four men against one woman. And Amelia had lost.

The only thing keeping him from falling to his knees with the intense pain squeezing his chest was the absence of blood. She was alive, or was when they'd taken her. His fingers gripped her bonnet more tightly. Lifting his head, he looked in the direction her abductors had gone. "We go that way."

He vaulted back upon his mount, turning his pain inward. But when he found the men who dared harm his beloved, they would know more agony than they'd ever dreamed possible.