Read The Highlander's Conquest Online

Authors: Eliza Knight

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Fiction

The Highlander's Conquest (5 page)

“’Tis all right, no harm will come to you. Please, my lady, go into your tent.”

She nodded and hurried to crawl beneath the coverings. Frosty stood at attention, the hairs on the back his neck
stuck up
on end, but he didn’t bark. ’Twas as if the dog understood making a sound would call attention to the intruders
, alerting them
to their whereabouts.
Smart hound.
Satisfied that
Frosty
guarded his lady, Blane roused each of his men and put out the fire.
While four of his men melted into the woods to surround their enemy, the rest
formed a circle, weapons draw
n
, around Aliah’s tent
with Blane at the head
.

They didn’t have to wait long before a band of five
shabby, dirt riddled
outlaws emerged from the trees. Their clothes were torn and the stench of their bodies wafted even from a distance of ten feet away.
Blane didn’t recognize them.

The ringleader chuckled and stepped forward. “Well, what ‘
ave
we here? Looks as though we’ve come upon a merry band of men and something they don’t want us to see.” He tried to peer between Blane and his men
, hoping to see into
the tent.

“I suggest you leave now, else we send you on your way,” Blane said, keeping his tone
purposefully
bored.

The ringleader shook his head, eyes connecting with Frosty, who bared his teeth and growled. The man’s eyes narrowed, and
he
grimace
d, touching a grimy bandage on his hand
. Blane was willing to bet
these outlaws had been the one
s Frosty encountered earlier in the day, which
meant they
were being followed.
He guaranteed the man had the bite marks under th
e
bandage
to prove it.

Blane did not like being followed. This had to end, here and now. He couldn’t be discovered. It would not only put Aliah in danger, but his entire clan. If they found out that he crossed the border dressed as an Englishman, he would never able to do so again, and his clan would lose their biggest source of revenue. He would never let that happen.

“We won’t be leaving without a bit ‘o coin,” the man said, his beady eyes connecting with Blane’s own gaze.
The man fidgeted on his feet, his fingers gripping tightly to the hilt of his sword.

But still, t
he man didn’t waver. He was either completely
sotted
or mad. Or both. In any case, Blane wasn’t about to wait around to figure out which one.
The crusty outlaw turned his gaze back toward the tent and licked his lip
s
.
His eyes widen
ed
a little.
Blane didn’t want to know why the man suddenly had a lecherous look in his eye—but he could guess one bonny blonde reason.

“We have no
coin
to give ye. Be on your way
a
fore I slit ye from ear to ear,” Blane growled.

The man jerked his gaze from the tent back to Blane, scrutinizing him, and a wide evil grin
carv
ed
his features. His fidgeting stopped
.
Confidence suddenly
bolstered
the villain.

“What did you say
, barbarian
?”

Ballocks!
In his anger a bit of his Scots dialect had slipped through. Blane hoped that no one had noticed. And now t
he maggot had the a
udacity to call him a barbarian…
“I said, be on
y
our way,
be
fore I slit your throat.”

The outlaw shook his head
, smirking as if he’d discovered a secret
. “N
ay
, I do believe you said
it slightly
different.”

What game was the man playing? It didn’t matter, Blane was done with him. He took a threatening step toward the ringleader, and the man planted his feet in a battle stance, tossing his cheap sword from hand to hand.

“You want to fight?” he asked
Blane
.

Blane didn’t say a word, he only nodded and took a step closer. His men who’d crept into the woods quickly pounced on the other four outlaws, while
the remaining
men surrounding Lady Aliah remained motionless. Ther
e was no need for them to
intervene;
he and
the others
could easily take on the outlaws. With a flick of his wrist and a twirl of his claymore, Blane disarmed his opponent
within seconds
.
Untrained outlaws were no match for seasoned warriors.
He kicked the man’
s legs out from under him causing him to sprawl backward with a harsh grunt. Blane
placed the tip of his sword at the outlaw’s neck.

He didn’t intend to kill him. At least not in front of Lady Aliah. It could traumatize her for life. He’d clearly beaten the outlaw, and as he could see, his men had the other four on their backs as well.

“Do it,” sneered the ringleader.
His tone turned low and threatening.
“My men will see that the English come crashing down on your black
Scots

soul.”

Coldness swept through Blane. Damn it all to hell, things were not going as planned, at all. There was no time to play games
,
now he had to deal with him. No loose ends.

“I’ll not kill you if you agree to not follow us again.”
Blane
pushed his sword further into his throat, just nicking the skin. “You must swear that you will not speak of our chance meeting to anyone. Or the next time I see you, I will have to put my sword through your heart.”

The man shook his head. “You are a daft fool.”

Why would the outlaw not just agree? ’Twas as if he wanted to taunt Blane into killing him.
Did he want to die?
Or
did
he believe Blane wouldn’t do i
t?
“You are lucky there is a lady here or else your blood would be seeping into the ground. Consider yourself saved.

The worm laughed, brown rotted teeth showing as his mouth opened wide. “I’ll not be saved by the likes of you.”

The outlaw jerked, knocking his arm against the sword, and cutting himself deeply in an effort to roll away.

“Bloody hell, what are you about?”
Blane growled, moving to pin him down again.

For an untrained villain, he was wiry and fast. Most were when they saw their end was near.
But he could s
till f
a
ll just as hard as any
vermin
.
The
man
reached down and pulled a knife from his boot, about to throw it when an arrow pierced his arm, pinning his appendage to the ground.
He cried out
and
dropped the knife
, working
on freeing his pinned and bloody arm.

Blane looked toward Aliah, who quickly cocked another arrow.
Her gaze
was steady, serious. None of the charming, soft lady he’d kissed moments ago.
She called out, and let another
arrow
loose.
Blane whirled
back
around
,
his
eyes
landing
on the man
as her arrow struck the blackguard in his heart
.
The villain’
s uninjured arm held another knife
poised
to kill
him
.

All speech left
Blane
. The lady had saved his life. Then again, she’d been the distraction that nearly caused him to be killed in the first place. He didn’t know whether to thank her or curse his mission to retrieve her.

One of his men cleared
his
throat, and Blane returned his attention to the other four outlaws. “Tie them to the trees. Take their weapons and their clothes.”

The maggots balked, but quickly quieted when Blane reminded them that while he took their belongings
,
he left their lives intact. “Do not attempt to follow us, or I shall see that each of you die
painfully
.”

While his men saw
to the
prisoners
and burying the dead outlaw
, the others
swiftly
dismantled the camp and readied the horses. It was still dark and hours until dawn, but
they were not safe in this spot. T
hey had to move
on
quickly.

As he approached Aliah to help her onto Gunnar, he was taken ab
ack
by her stony mask and
suspicious
glare pointed
in his direction. She raised her bow,
and
aim
ed
it
straight at his heart.

“Who are you? And this time, I’ll have the truth.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

A
liah gripped her bow so tightly she was afraid the smooth wood would snap. But at least it kept her fingers from trembling. Every muscle in her body was tense and ached from fear of moving.

She kept
her gaze steadily on the man who’d told her he was Sir Blane of Yorkshire,
yet just spoke clearly with a Scots accent.
Finding out his true identity was imperative—even if she had to fill him full of arrows.
S
he tried to ease her breath
ing into a more normal pattern.

“My lady, please, would you put down the bow?” He held out his hands in supplication. “I am not your enemy.”

His Scottish accent, while fleeting, had been evident when he spoke to the outlaws and threatened to slit them from ear to ear. Even if he held out his hands like that, even if his kiss had shaken her to the core and made her rethink for a moment her purpose in life, the truth was she had no idea who he was. For all she knew, he’d kidnapped her.
Forged her father’s letter.

Aliah glanced furtively at his men. None of them put a hand to their swords. She didn’t know whether that scared her more or not. Did they think she’d put her weapon away? Did they believe she wouldn’t put an arrow in this man’s heart?

Mayhap they knew something
she didn’t
. For she was not
at all
certain she could let her arrow fly to m
eet
its mark.

“Who are you?” she demanded once more.

“I am Sir Blane.”

“Of Scotland?”

He shook his head, his eyes searching hers. She felt compelled to believe him, to lower her weapon and sag into his arms. Aliah stiffened all the more.

“I am English, my lady.”

“I heard you, when you were speaking
to
that dead man. Your voice changed.”

Again his eyes searched hers. What was he looking for?
Weakness.
She worked to harden her gaze. Whatever it was he sought, she wouldn’t back down.

He laughed a little, like she
ha
d made
an assumption
he found humorous. Again he shook his head, took a step forward.

“Don’t come any closer or I shall let my arrow fly.”

He held up his hands. “Nay, I do not want you to shoot me. I apologize for setting your heart to fear and for breaking your trust, my lady.”

His accent was English personified. Confusion warred within her.

“I spent a lot of time in Scotland as a youth, my father was in the king’s service.
And then when I was fostered out, I served another English baron who also spent much time in Scotland.
So, at times the accent pops out
without my notice
, but I assure you, I am one hundred percent English
born and bred
.” His gaze that had been locked on hers
scanned
his men. “As are my men.”

The knights nodded,
grunted,
but still none moved. She found their silence and stillness unnerving, but she supposed she’d rather have seasoned fierce warriors to protect her than weak ones—if she could count on them protecting her. Aliah still was
n’t
sure she believed Blane’s story.

What choice did she have? If she left him to go home, she’d never make it. She’d either die of motion sickness from riding Mad Maiden or she’d be ravaged by outlaws. So far the only assault on her from Blane had been to her senses and her lips, and if she was completely honest, she enjoyed both.

Perhaps the best thing to do was to pretend she believed him and be ever more vigilant. Keep her own counsel and be prepared to defend herself if it should come to that. If this man had kidnapped her, the last thing she should do now was anger him into tying her up. She rather liked the freedom of walking about.

Decision made, Aliah nodded her head. “All right.”

“All right?”

“I believe you,” she said, her voice shaking slightly. She
unnocked
her arrow and slipped it back into
the
quiver filled with her custom-made arrows slung
around
her back.
Her bow and arrows would remain on her person, she would not let go
of
her weapons. Her eating dagger was at her waist, and while she might not be able to land a killing blow with it, the blade was sharp enough to give a man an injury.

Blane clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Well then, I am glad. And I am truly sorry for what has happened here. I should have been more vigilant while on watch. When next we make camp, several men will take watch at one time.”

She wanted to add that perhaps if he hadn’t followed her into the woods and kissed the sense from her that he would have heard the enemy approaching.

“For now, my lady, let us make haste.”

Aliah nodded, and snapped for Frosty to come to her. How was it that the dog could trust this man? She supposed
Frosty wasn’t very smart.
T
hen again, that was insulting herself since she too had fallen victim
to
his charms. Inside
,
she wanted to groan. This was not how a woman headed for the church behaved. Kissing aside, she should be forgiving Blane, accepting his word as truth for she had no reason to doubt him. He’d kept her safe—even if she’d had to save his life.

Killing a man was the last thing she wanted to do. She’d never done so before and
the deed made her
heart wrench.
She had to remind herself that taking the man’s life saved Blane’s—the lesser of two evils.

“I um, need but a moment.”

Aliah was aware that time was of the essence, but she could not leave here until she’d had a moment to say a prayer for the man’s soul and to ask for God’s forgiveness. She sought out
the grave of the outlaw
and knelt to the ground, her hands together in prayer
, her rosary beads clasped in her fingers
. Staring up through the trees she could make out a few stars in the sky and a sliver of moonlight. She closed her eyes and whispered
the
words. When she was done, she felt lighter, as if she’d unburdened a load, which in essence she had.

God forgave his children, she reminded herself. And she hadn’t killed the man in cold
blood;
it had been to save the life of a man who was meant to protect her. A man she had grown…fond of since he’d banged on her manor door.
Aliah pressed her lips together in a frown. Was she truly fond of him? She chanced a glance in his direction and the warm flip of her belly and buzz in her ears told her she certainly felt something for the man.

Saints
!
That was not the realization she was hoping for.
She clung a little tighter to
the
straps of her bow and quiver and straightened her shoulders. ’Twas not in her nature to let a little thing like her feelings for a man get in the way of her dreams and her future. She was slated for the church. Looked
forward to her service to God and his children
—repaying the taint of her birth and the death of her mother
.
If her mother had to die while giving her life, then Aliah would see to it she did only good for others.
She was going to make this world a better place, and spend her life in peace, solitude and reflection.
Perhaps work in the sanctuary’s herbal garden and hone her healing skills. Sew shirts for the poor.
This little matter of a man interfering was nothing more than…a test. That was all it was and she’d best start realizing it.

No more kissing in darkened forest
s
. No more drowning in the depths of his ivy-colored eyes. No more admiring his exquisite physique
, or the way the light shined on his dark hair
. This man was not what he appeared
. She just couldn’t figure out in what way.

Aliah marched to the horses, prepared to mount when she realized, yet again, she would be plastered to his back. ’Twould only make her newfound pledges all the more challenging. But she was up
for the
task
. She could overcome this.

Aye, when she was
riding behind Blane
, she could also more easily study him, figure out his plans and keep herself safe.

Sir Blane mounted Gunnar and she avoided watching, instead she stared at Frosty to keep from swiveling her eyes in his direction.
He offered his arm and she gripped it, gritting her teeth at the contact of his heat against her chilled limb. She swung up behind him and had to force herself not to purr when the warmth of his body seeped between her spread thighs.

Oh…stones!
She wished to let out a string of curses but that wouldn’t do, and while she sometimes forgot about her pledge to never take the Lord’s name in
vain
, sometimes cursing at the sky did make one feel better.

Without asking if she was ready to depart, Blane urged his horse forward and his men followed suit. Frosty loped
beside them, seemingly not noticing how little rest they’d been allowed. But Ali
ah was exhausted. They’d travel
ed hard all day, and slept little
. T
he
y’d been
ambush
ed
.
And n
ow they were traveling again. She didn’t want to ask when they would stop for fear of sounding too whiny, but she did hope it was soon. She needed a good night’s rest, especially if she was going to keep on her toes.

 

 

The feel of Aliah’s hands pressed to his abdomen had Blane gritting his teeth. It had his blood boiling
and
his cock raging with need.

Not good at all.

Putting aside such physical need was of the utmost importance.
She’d had him so thoroughly distracted that he hadn’t seen the ambush coming. That couldn’t happen again.
Even still, he couldn’t get the memory of her kiss from his mind. Her soft lips, so willing and eager as he’d brushed against them. The way she’d plastered her body to his in blatant supplication to the pleasure he could give her. Blane had to remind himself that she was an innocent, that likely she was overwhelmed by the feelings he elicited in her. He wasn’t arrogan
t
, but he knew he was good at pleasuring women.

Normally he wouldn’t hesitate to take a woman up on an offer of a carnal adventure, but Aliah was different—and he wasn’t the type of man who took a woman’s innocence. That was saved for her husband. Something Blane was not, and would never be. If only Aliah were a widow…

He shook his head, and grunted. This line of thinking would lead him nowhere and only provoked his need for the woman in question and his frustration at the fact that it could never happen.

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