There might have been a small part of Ian Sinclair that was a glutton for punishment or maybe completely mad, for he lived for moments like this. When danger pressed in all around, the thrill of a fight on the cusp of the next breath. The physical exertion and the peril made him smile.
And though he was certain he could beat the English guard standing in front of him—who was trying to look as if he wasn’t about to piss himself in the name of protecting a woman that he obviously didn’t respect—if it came down to it, there was always the chance that Ian wouldn’t harm a hair on the dolt’s head. Because he held all the power of knowing his purpose, and he’d surprised them with his appearance.
Of course, there was always the chance he was wrong in making the assumption. That the guard would get the jump on him or that the lass would somehow surprise him by pulling out a dagger and slipping it between his ribs without his notice.
But it was not knowing what was going to happen that thrilled him. That spark of danger that could blaze into an inferno. Ian lived for a good adventure.
It was one of the reasons why he’d decided to help his brother in fetching this lass. And he was fairly certain it was her. Ian’s sister-by-marriage, Douglass, had distinctly described Lady Rhiannon, and the woman standing before him fit perfectly. Down to the look of defiance in her blue eyes that dared him to do anything. Red-gold hair, tall, lithe—though Douglass hadn’t mentioned the curves that drew Ian’s eyes.
What made him smile was that he had made a wild guess about the cat, and the look in Rhiannon’s eyes said as much—the feline belonged to her. She’d been making some clicking sounds with her tongue, and who made sounds like that unless they were looking for a pet?
“Your lucky day?” she asked him, a delicate hand reaching for the feline who seemed content to stay in his arms. “I say it’s mine, as it seems you found Goosie. Give her here.”
Bossy. Ian was certain the look she passed him was meant to be haughty, and if he were any other man, he might have taken it that way. But he wasn’t any other man. And he had two haughty sisters at home who had shown plenty of bravado, including sweet Iliana, who’d no sooner bake a cake than gut a man.
“To have come across the two of ye,” Ian said, adding a wink to throw them off, “is luck. And more so to have located what ye seem to have lost.”
As a show of good faith, Ian did let the cat down. Goosie, as the lass had called her, gave his leg a little stroke with her tail before trotting over to the lass, bell jangling. The cat wove around Rhiannon’s skirted legs with a purr, looking at him with what he assumed might be feline gratitude. Hard to say; it was a cat, after all.
“Have you lost your way?” the lass asked, and Ian couldn’t be sure if she were talking to him or Goosie.
Before she could bend down to lift the black ball of jingling fur, her guard grasped her arm and shoved her behind him. Poor lad. The cat gave an irritated hiss and swiped at the guard’s boots, leaving little scratch marks on the leather.
“Don’t speak to this barbarian,” the guard said. “He’s clearly lost his way by several hundred miles. I suggest you turn around now, heathen, and head back the way you came.”
“Good idea,” Ian said, grinning mischievously.
The guard was playing right into his hands. The poor welp had droplets of sweat forming on his brow, a sure sign of his nerves. His voice pitch had risen a notch as well. Truly, it wouldn’t be fair for him to take the lad on in a fight. Like a lion swiping at a cub.
“Though, if I didna return with the package I seek, I’ll be asking for trouble.”
“Package?” the guard asked cautiously, while the lass who had moved to stand beside her guard rather than behind eyed him intelligently.
“Aye.” Ian loved a good game. This weakling of a guard was getting more confused by the second. It really wasn’t fair for Ian to toy with him so much.
“Well, what package?” the guard insisted.
Och, if this were his guard at Balla Dorcha, Ian would have slapped him for being so dense. Then again, nothing ever happened at his holding on the Orkney Isles, which was why he’d spent so much damn time away from there, doing odd jobs like this one to feel a little blood running through his veins. A warrior like him was not meant to be wasted on an isle without a battle, which was why he crossed the sea to the mainland where conflict was rife.
“Ah, let me see. A lass. Tall, reddish-gold hair, blue eyes.” He ticked off each of her qualities on his fingers.
Rhiannon’s eyes started to widen beside the guard, and she inched away from her guard at such a slow pace the lad didn’t seem to see her move.
“We’ve no one like that here,” the guard said, and Rhiannon cleared her throat.
Ian could have laughed. “Lady Douglass sends her regards, my lady. I am Ian Sinclair.”
Rhiannon laughed softly, the wicked glint in her eyes wiping away the caution she’d had there before. At least now she understood what was at stake here and wouldn’t fight him in leaving this moron behind.
The dolt, however, finally picked up on the exchange and held his arm out in front of Rhiannon, his eyes desperately glancing back and forth between them. It was painful how slowly his mind seemed to be working. “Oh, no, you heathen, you’ll not be taking his lordship’s sister.”
“It’s quite all right, sir,” Rhiannon said, pushing away the guard’s arm, which moved a little too easily as she did so. “I’m happy to go.” She started to edge to the right around the guard, her cat following, but the lad pulled out his sword in a show of eager bravado and leaped in front of her, waving it toward Ian.
In other circumstances that might have been as good as signing a death warrant. However, Ian preferred not to be the executioner today.
“Now, what are ye going to do with that?” Ian asked, pretending he was addressing a bairn who wished to be a warrior.
The guard thrust forward, and Ian easily dodged, not even bothering to pull out his own sword.
“None of that, lad,” Ian said. “Put your sword away, and I’ll let ye live.”
“What?” the guard sputtered, still waving the sword around as if it were a bug catcher, not a flesh-slicing weapon. “Let me live? You’ve not even got a weapon drawn. I have the upper hand.”
“Now see, that is where ye’re wrong, lad. I have no need to pull a weapon. I can beat ye bare-handed.”
“Why, you insolent savage.” The guard was growing rather purple in the face now.
Ian rolled his eyes at how worked up the wee lad was getting. Though he supposed wee wasn’t charitable. He was easily in his mid-twenties and fully grown of body. Just not his mind. The efforts he was making were really pathetic, and also unfair Ian supposed. Plus, the longer Ian toyed with him, the less time he had to get Rhiannon out before anyone at the castle noticed she was gone. Or they were marched by on rounds, though as he’d observed yesterday, no one was doing many rounds anyway.
“Shall I put ye out of your misery, pup?”
That made the guard sputter and lunge, and all it took was a sidestep and a hard hit to the back of the unfortunate sap’s neck to knock him out.
Ian nudged his prone body gently with his boot to make sure he was well and truly unconscious. When he didn’t move, Ian glanced up at Rhiannon and, with a raised brow, said, “Well, now that that’s done, shall we?”
A slightly horrified look graced her pretty face. That was another thing Douglass hadn’t mentioned, how fair her cousin was. Not that Ian needed to pay attention to such things—he wasn’t after a woman, just an adventure.
“You didn’t kill him, did you?” she asked.
“Nay. He’s merely asleep for now, but he’ll wake soon and alert the rest of the castle. We’ll need to get going—unless ye want to wait for your brother’s arrival. And then more fighting and the chance that I am no longer able to bring ye to Scotland?”
Rhiannon’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. “Oh, no. I’m ready. I think.” Her gaze turned skeptical. “How do I know Douglass sent you?”
Ian stared at her, confused. “I just told ye she did.”
“That is true, but how do I know you’re not lying?”
His brow narrowed. “Why would I lie about such a thing?”
“To get me to go with you.” She said it as if it made all the logical sense in the world. And perhaps it did. But he suspected few Highlanders were walking into England saying that her cousin Douglass had sent them.
“And ye think I’d have come all the way from the Highlands of Scotland to this godforsaken land full of idiots just to snare one lass? That I’d have caught a wee kitten as a show of good faith for anyone?” As beautiful as she was, he didn’t know anyone willing to come this far into the country alone for that. Scotland was full of beauties.
Rhiannon shrugged, then knelt daintily beside the felled knight, poking him in the shoulder. The lad didn’t budge. She put a finger under his nose as if checking for his breath and seemed satisfied that he was still alive. Her cat followed suit, with a bat of her paws at the guard’s slack chin.
Still no movement.
“Are ye trying to wake him?” Ian asked. “I’ll just knock him out again.”
“Oh, no, of course not.” She grabbed a dagger from the guard’s belt and stood.
“And what do ye plan to do with that?” Ian crossed his arms over his chest. This easy retrieval and retreat was turning out to be a little more tiresome than he’d imagined. He’d been having fun a moment ago, but he didn’t want to knock the lass out to depart. Tossing her over his shoulder wouldn’t be difficult, but it would slow his pace.
“For protection.” She jutted her chin forward, flashing him a challenging look.
“Protection? From whom?”
“From anyone.” She shrugged her dainty shoulders.
“I’ll keep ye safe from everyone.” It was his job, after all. If he returned to Scotland with any part of the lass harmed, Douglass would kill him. And then his brother would double-kill him for having to console his wife.
“Including yourself?” Rhiannon gave him a look that said she wasn’t so sure.
Och, the lass was proving to be a challenge and insulting to boot. “I am an honorable man.”
“I don’t know that.”
Ian rolled his eyes. “Ye will. Take the blade if it makes ye feel better, but I assure ye, ye’ll not have need of it with me.”
Lady Rhiannon threaded the blade through the belt at her hips and smiled at him in a way that was jarring in its radiance. “Excellent. Then, shall we?”
“Aye.” Ian held out his hand, and she stared at it as if he were offering her a handful of ocean-floor scum.
“I don’t think we need to hold hands,” she said.
Ian grunted. “I thought it a better option than me holding onto your arm.”
She squared her shoulders. “I prefer to walk without assistance. And I insist that Goosie come with us. Let us not argue the point—as you said, we need to leave quickly.”
My God, she might be more stubborn than his brother’s wife. And bossy seemed quite a tame description now that he had known her more than thirty seconds.
“Fine. But I’ll not wait around for the cat if she decides to wander off. And ye canna fall behind, nor get too far ahead. Walk beside me at all times. Otherwise, I will toss ye over my shoulder and continue despite your protestations.”
“Are we walking all the way to Scotland?” She wrinkled her brow in protest.
“Fock no.” Ian grimaced. He’d not meant to say that. Too harsh for a lady’s ears, but to his relief, Rhiannon laughed.
“Thank goodness.”
“I have got a horse up the way.” He’d left George not too far away as he snuck toward the castle to observe.
“How did you know I’d be walking today? It’s been weeks since my brother let me out.”
Weeks? Ian knew she was in a desperate situation. Something about being married off to pay a debt but let out? That sounded more as if she’d been held prisoner. As a brother himself, he couldn’t imagine locking his sisters away. And quite frankly, if Rhiannon was anything like his sisters, like her cousin, it was lucky her brother was still alive.
“I didna know, lass.”
“Oh.” She seemed surprised. Her pace faltered a moment and then picked up again beside him. “Then how did you happen upon me?”
“I’d been scouting a couple of days and was trying to figure out which window to climb into.” Her brother was most assuredly not good at protecting what was his. The guards weren’t on a regular schedule, and sometimes posts weren’t manned. Anyone could breach their fortifications with a little thought and observation.
“You think you could have breached the walls?”
“I didna think, lass. I knew.” His plan had been simple, and he would have executed it perfectly if he hadn’t happened upon her. She just seemed to make his day easier. The heavens might have intervened on his behalf.
“Oh.” She was silent for a moment. “Is that why you said it was your lucky day?”
“Precisely.”
She giggled. “It all makes sense now. I’m so glad you came. I didn’t know if any of my letters even made it passed the castle walls.”
“Letters? Douglass only received one.” Ian frowned.
“Then it’s a good thing I sent three.”
But Ian didn’t think it was good at all. That meant two hadn’t made it to Douglass, and there was a chance at least one of them had ended up in the wrong hands.