No one outwitted him, not even his own blood.
“It’s a fair nice sight to see ye so bristling with passion considering how lifeless ye have been, but I think ye are making the men a wee bit nervous.”
Hayden snarled.
“Fair enough.” Skene Monroe shrugged in the face of his laird’s temper. Hayden shot him a hard glare.
“Don’t tease me, Skene, I’m nae in the mood.”
His captain nodded with agreement. “I noticed that. In fact, it’s a grand thing to see because I was beginning to find it difficult to recall that ye were not an old man ready for his grave. That little Leask lass has awakened something that I missed seeing in ye.”
“Ye’re the only man I’d let say something like that.”
Skene offered him a cocky grin. “Actually, it’s more a matter of ye do nae want to take the time to thrash me.”
“Aye, ye’re right about that.” Hayden wasn’t stopping for anything. It had taken him too much time to meet up with his men, and the fact that they had already been riding after him didn’t make him any happier.
“But the men were tugging at me to discover if ye plan to tell them to murder every Dalry man we meet. That is sure to be a mess and all. I think a few of the younger lads want to know if they need to be confessing that they are nae virgins in case they are riding to their deaths tonight. Now I didna want to be the one to mention this but a few of those younger lads seem to think that Dalry retainers might be able to out fight them. I figure we’ll just have to be forgiving them on account of their youth.”
Hayden rolled his eyes. Skene was a master of many things, and annoying him was one. The man didn’t have any problem chatting away while riding. But Hayden cast a look behind him and noticed the tension drawing his men’s expressions tight. He was riding hell-bent up onto Dalry land. His own rage could so easily translate into death for those bound to follow him. He normally didn’t fail to notice when his men were uncomfortable. Dunmore was somewhere behind them, his men having been on the road before word was carried back to him that his sister was being swept down the river. The Monroe retainers had been waiting for him.
“I’m going to pay the damned ransom and marry Elspeth Leask so that I can place her on Monroe land where I won’t have to worry about a rogue like Pherson getting his hands on her.”
“Ah … well then, that’s grand news.” Skene sniffed. “Maybe you’d care to slow up just a wee bit, then. No need to kill the horses or make ye want to postpone yer nuptials because yer arse is bruised.”
“It will be yer face that is bruised if ye do nae grant me some peace, man. Ye prattle like an old priest.”
Skene smirked at him before pulling his horse up just enough to fall behind him and rejoin the main body of his men. Hayden forced himself to slow as well. He was pure Scot and proud of it, but for the time being he hated some of the cockiness that seemed bred into his fellow Scots.
He wanted to kill Pherson.
Slowly.
This was surprising considering he might have done the same thing, presented with the opportunity to rub a few of his neighbors’ pride. Stealing a bride was rather common and considered slightly honorable. You ransomed the girl or married her, but Hayden discovered that he wasn’t feeling so trusting in the tradition. It was burning a hole in his gut, the need to get Elspeth back.
He would have her back; there was no other option his mind was willing to accept.
Her mind began toying with her again. Elspeth heard horse hooves beating at the ground and shivered. There was so much tension pulling her muscles tight, she was beginning to become confused as to the root of each worry. Was it spirits? Or sinister druid spells left from a thousand years ago?
Maybe it was raiding highlanders bent on revenge.
She gasped when she saw the horses materialize on the road in front of her. She blinked her eyes, her heart increasing its pace to something so violent she wasn’t sure she would survive.
Maybe that would be a blessing. To drop dead upon the road before the men bearing down on her had the chance to make any of her mind’s imaginings into reality.
But she swallowed that urge, shamed by how cowardly it was. She was not a child to be startled by men who had yet to meet her.
They rode closer, the beating of their hooves shaking the ground beneath her feet. Time slowed to a crawl, each moment swelling into enough time to notice the rise and fall of the horses. She heard her own heartbeats and heard the smack of leather against leather as the riders’ knee-high boots slapped against their saddles. She noticed the way they pulled up on the reins, the leader’s elbow poking out as he used his strength to halt the powerful beast he rode. She smelled dust, churned up by the horses, as it blew over her in a cloud. The horses snorted, their chests heaving as they pulled in enough breath to support their midnight journey.
“Elspeth?”
Hayden’s voice broke through the spell that had wrapped around her. Raising her face, she strained to find anything familiar about the man looking down at her. But the moon was hiding once again, leaving him cast in darkness.
He jumped from the saddle, landing in a slight crouch, but his legs took the impact easily. She felt his gaze searching her face, and the clouds shifted, illuminating him in silver moonlight.
“Sweet mother of Christ! What are ye doing on the road? Are ye insane, woman?”
He was angry again, the tone of his voice a perfect match to the one he’d used after they escaped the river’s grip. It scraped against her frayed temper.
“I was on my way back to ye, but now that I’m hearing yer tone I’m thinking I was daft to take to the road for a man who does nothing but berate me for not collapsing every time life turns difficult.”
She was yelling, and every single one of his men heard her. Elspeth propped her hands on her hips and jutted her chin out. Her feet were throbbing in the dancing heeled shoes and she was relieved to see him but she’d walk back to Leask land in the unpractical footwear if the man was going to try and lecture her.
Someone laughed behind her. Loud and long, Pherson Dalry walked his horse out of the darkness while snickering.
“By the Virgin’s tits, Monroe, I think she’s worth fighting ye for.”
Hayden grabbed her wrist, his fingers grasping her quick as lightning before he tugged her forward and stepped in front of her. His sword was drawn with a scraping of steel against steel.
“I accept yer challenge.” There was venom edging each word.
Pherson remained in his saddle, the moonlight revealing an arrogant smile on his face.
“If that’s what I wanted, I would have kept her locked up. There was no need for me to ride out here if I wanted to fight ye Hayden Monroe.”
“Ye’ve been following me.” Elspeth felt her temper explode. She wanted to curse but realized that she didn’t know any truly horrible words. “You swine! You allowed me to think I escaped.”
“Well now, lass, I couldn’t very well have ye out on the road alone even if I had nae intention of crushing yer little plan. It would nae do to have ye in peril out here.”
“But—”
Hayden cut off her words with a hand cupped over her mouth. He took one long step backward to stand beside her and wrapped his arm around her head to seal her lips shut with his fingers. She snarled and struggled but her head was held in a solid hold.
“Skene.”
Hayden barked that single word and slid his sword back into its sheath. He released her mouth but she didn’t get the chance to blister his ears. The man hooked his hands around her waist and tossed her up into the air. Her throat closed up so tight, getting breath down it was too much. For an endless moment she was weightless, and then a strong arm grasped her around the waist, pulling her across a saddle.
“Take charge of my bride-to-be. I want a word with Laird Dalry.”
“Hayden Monroe—”
Elspeth didn’t get a chance to say anything further. Skene turned his horse and gave it the freedom to begin moving again. The stallion was eager, digging into the road and taking them away.
“Easy now, lass, there are some things men need to discuss among themselves.” Skene cast a quick look down at her. “But I’ll admit to wanting to hear that conversation myself. It’s sure to be something worth hearing. Pity that the laird told me to take ye away. I can’t be disregarding his wishes ye see.”
“I am not his bride-to-be.”
Skene chuckled and she felt it as much as heard it.
“Well now, lass, there’s another conversation I believe is going to be very interesting.” He sniffed. “I’m getting the feeling that I won’t be hearing that one either. Poor night to be me it seems.”
“Swine. The lot of you.”
Skene didn’t acknowledge her insult.
Bride-to-be?
Nothing had been decided. Nothing.
But her heart filled with joy. It flooded her, melting the tension that had been tormenting her for the past few hours. There was no thinking on it, there was only feeling.
Hayden swung back up onto his horse’s back to face Pherson.
“What game are ye playing, Dalry?”
Pherson tilted his head to one side. “The same one I always do, to find the best profit.”
“You think there is profit in allowing Elspeth onto the road? Are you thinking that I’ll still pay you a ransom?”
“Aye, lad, I do.”
There weren’t many men Hayden would allow to call him lad, but his attention was snared by the topic of the conversation more than the needling choice of words.
“But ye can nae pay me enough for what I just allowed ye to see. That lass walked back to you without letting the night nor the fact that she was alone stop her. She was following her heart sure enough. Many might profess affection toward ye because of who ye are but actions tell a man the true facts. If ye say she is nae worth a ransom, I say ye are a foolish man to not notice the gem she is.”
Hayden stiffened. He drew in a long breath and felt his anger dissipating. “Aye, that’s true enough and I’ll say it plainly.” Knowing that Elspeth had come to him was priceless. The passion for life he’d lost was suddenly flicking brightly inside his soul.
“In that case, I like ye better than I did a moment ago, Laird Monroe, even if ye do spend a little too much time judging me. We both do what we have to for the sake of the people looking to us to keep peace on our land.” Pherson gave a short whistle that drew his men out of the darkness. “But that does nae mean that I didna come well prepared to kill ye if ye proved too dim to understand what a treasure that lass is.”
“I rode up here to kill you for taking her.”
Pherson chuckled. “Couldn’t help myself.” He reached up and touched the corner of his bonnet. “Until the time comes when I need a favor from ye. You can count on it being a large one.”
Elspeth paced back and forth in the chamber of a boardinghouse. It was the best room in the house and she was all too aware of the fact that it was being provided because Skene had used Hayden’s name.
With a sigh, she shook her head. There was no true way to stay angry. A yearning was eating at her to smile and embrace him the moment she set eyes on him once again.
That vexed her. No man should find it so simple to attract her or bend her to his will.
But wasn’t that the way it happened for all the other Leask girls? The ones she had so often envied for their freedom to meet their lovers on spring and summer nights when it was warm enough to lie in the new hay. They sighed and claimed they could not resist when the right man kissed them.
Her cheeks heated.
When Hayden kissed her, she had enjoyed it full well. The heat flowed down into her body, touching off tingles of sensation as she contemplated lying in the hay with him. A longing to do exactly that overshadowed all of her frustrations with the man’s arrogance.
“Haven’t ye had enough walking for one night, lass?”
Elspeth startled and turned to look at the door. Hayden stood there, his body filling it. He must have ducked to enter because his head rose above the frame.
“Or may I hope that ye were pacing because ye were waiting on me?”
His tone was soft and full of tenderness. It sent more warmth into her heart because he sounded as though he hoped his words were true.
She was suddenly shy. Her emotions threatened to consume her and that frightened her far more than anything out on the dark road. A warm hand cupped her chin, lifting it until she met Hayden’s gaze. What she witnessed there drew a soft sound of joy from her.
Need burned in his eyes so brightly there was no mistaking it. That was what the other girls were drawn to, that was what the church could not control.
“I was waiting on ye.”
His fingers tightened and he moved closer, his gaze dropping to her lips. The delicate skin warmed with anticipation, her belly tingling with excitement. She rose up on to her toes to meet his kiss but he suddenly froze.
“I want to kiss ye, Elspeth.” He released her face and disappointment hit her like a stone hurled at her chest.
“But ye made a request of me and I’d be a savage not to recall that.” He reached up and ran his hand over his chin. Challenge flickered in his eyes. “Are ye ready to give me the service I came looking for this morning?”
“Why do you want me to do it?”
He reached out and captured one hand, his larger one curling all the way around it. Lifting it up, he pressed a soft kiss against the delicate skin of her inner wrist. Sensation raced up her arm and into her body, leaving a trail of gooseflesh. She quivered and fought to draw her next breath.
“Because I want to feel that same thing when ye reach out and touch me.”
Elspeth had to swallow the lump clogging her throat before she could answer. “I will serve you.”
Hunger glittered in his eyes, but she only gained a glimpse of it before he walked past her to the door. He pulled it wide and barked an order out into the hallway. Voices drifted up from the bottom floor of the house. His men would be sleeping down there, but for the moment the scent of food told her that they were keeping the maids busy. The women came up the stairs only a few moments later. One held a large bowl that had a cloth folded into it, and the other carefully carried a copper kettle that had steam rising from it.