Through the mists that clouded her mind, Lindsey heard the sound of her gown being torn. A sense of outrage drove her, despite the fact that she was barely conscious. With fingernails and teeth she scratched and bit until her attacker let out a hiss of pain.
“Now you will pay, wench,” Argus snarled. “When I finish with you, you will beg to die.”
He slapped her again with a force that snapped her head to one side. With a little moan, she fell back, forced to endure the cruel hands that tore at her garments.
“I am going to enjoy this,” Argus whispered.
As if from a great distance Lindsey heard another voice, one she recognized as Jamie MacDonald’s, saying in deadly coldness, “Not nearly as much as I am going to enjoy killing you.”
At the icy tone, Argus looked up in terror. His movements stilled as the cold blade of a knife pressed into his back.
In a voice low with fury Jamie added, “For every pain you inflicted upon the lass, I will inflict a hundred upon you.”
Argus swallowed. “Unless you spare my life, my men will see that you never leave this place. You had best drop your weapon.”
“Save your empty threats.” Jamie brought his arm around the highwayman and pressed his knife to his throat. “Your men have already been overpowered.” His voice lowered ominously. “Where is your leader?”
Argus felt sweat bead his forehead as the rough grasp began to cut off his breath. He could feel the barely controlled tension in the man’s hands. Any moment now his attacker would explode. “He rides to the lady’s camp to seek a ransom. It was he who suggested that we entertain ourselves with her.”
“You miserable cur.” Jamie itched to slit the man’s throat. But his first thought was of the lass who lay as still and broken as a wounded bird.
With a vicious shove Jamie tossed the man to Robbie, who, with Neal, stood guard over the others, who had been subdued.
“Bind him,” Jamie ordered. “And kill any man who attempts to escape.”
Lindsey’s brothers had never before witnessed such blind fury. Jamie MacDonald’s temper was a terrible thing to see. Without a word they led the villain away.
Sheathing his weapon, Jamie dropped to his knees and cradled Lindsey in his arms. Blood trickled from her lip, trailing a crimson ribbon along her creamy throat. Her gown was torn, revealing bruised flesh. Seeing her, Jamie fought a wave of emotions: fury at the animal who had inflicted such pain on this helpless maiden, self-hatred that he had let down his guard and allowed this terrible thing to happen to one under his protection, and a sudden rush of tenderness toward the woman who lay before him.
With her last ounce of energy Lindsey brought up her hands to ward off any further blows. “Nay,” she cried. “Leave me.”
“You are safe now, my lady,” Jamie whispered.
Her lids fluttered. The giant who held her seemed to swim in and out of her line of vision. In halting tones she whispered, “Is it truly you, Jamie MacDonald?”
“Aye, my lady. You are safe.”
“Was that Robbie’s voice I heard?”
“Aye, lass. He and Neal accompanied me. Donald and Murray ride with your father. Your brothers overpowered the other highwaymen. They will see that the animal who did this to you does not break free.”
She struggled to gather the remnants of her torn bodice. “My brothers must not see me like this.”
“Hush, my lady. Lie still. Do not tire yourself.”
With great tenderness Jamie removed his cloak and wrapped it around her. But when he attempted to lift her in his arms she pushed away.
“Nay. I must stand alone. Else they will think me weak.”
Jamie was aware of the heroic effort she made to get to her feet. But though she swayed for a moment, she waved away his hand and took a tentative step, then another, until she had made it to her brothers’ side near the fire.
To her youngest brother, whose eyes were troubled at the sight of her, she called, “Do not grieve for me, Neal. I am unscathed, as you can see.” In a strong voice she said, “Bring my horse. We must ride to camp and alert Father that I am alive.”
Neal cast a worried glance at Jamie, who motioned him to do her bidding. When the horse was brought to her, Lindsey pulled herself into the saddle and forced herself to sit very straight. Whatever pain she suffered, whatever fear rippled through her, she would deal with it later, when she was alone. For now she must show only the strong woman she had always shown to the world.
Jamie watched her, marveling at her iron will. “We will take these highwaymen to our camp and decide later what is to be done with them.” His tone was deliberately devoid of emotion, masking the fury that still simmered within him. “Then one of you must alert your father and brothers that Lindsey has been found.”
With a tough new hardness to their features, Neal and Robbie herded the villains onto their horses, binding them together so that they could not escape.
Jamie studied Lindsey’s stricken features. There was a pallor to her skin that worried him. Though she was struggling to put on a brave face for the sake of her brothers, he sensed that tears were very near the surface. But from her look of determination he knew that she would insist upon dealing with it in her own way.
It was Robbie’s hoarse whisper that broke through his thoughts. Jamie saw the lad’s eyes grow misty before he turned away and fumbled with the reins of his horse.
“Until now,” the young poet said softly, “I have been content to write pretty words and envision a world of beauty. Before this moment I have ne’er wanted to lift a sword against a man. But I cannot bear the thought of these men soiling one as precious as our Lindsey. I would have gladly given my life for her.”
“Aye, lad. I share your feelings,” Jamie said softly.
Robbie pulled himself into the saddle and sat a moment, composing his features. When his emotions were under control he brought his horse alongside Lindsey’s.
“I am grateful,” she whispered to her brother, “that you were able to find me so quickly.”
“ ’Twas Jamie MacDonald who found you,” Robbie said. “Were it not for him, all would have been lost. He drove us unmercifully when we feared we had lost your trail.”
Lindsey glanced beyond her brother to the giant who stood a little away from them. “Then I am in your debt, my lord.”
Jamie gave her a slight bow and turned away. When he had mounted they moved out.
Lindsey set a brisk pace, calling, “Father will be beside himself until he sees that I am safe.”
Robbie nodded his agreement. “Aye. We must ease his mind. He was greatly tormented by your abduction.”
At that Lindsey urged her mount into a run.
From his vantage point, Jamie watched with grudging admiration.
“Neal. Robbie,” he called, “ride on either side of the prisoners to assure that none escapes.”
The two lads did as they were told.
As they entered the darkness of the forest, Lindsey felt the tremors begin. Thin morning sunlight filtered through the canopy of vines and tangled growth, casting strange shadows along the trail. Though she struggled, she could not seem to put aside the dark fears that clutched her, like hands. She shivered. Cruel, grasping hands. She felt a terrible, wrenching ache in the pit of her stomach and doubled over in the saddle. But, the pain would not subside. Though she took deep, calming breaths, she felt the forest closing in upon her. A little moan escaped her lips as she felt herself falling. The shock jolted her as she hit the ground.
Instantly Jamie was beside her. With a look of concern he cradled her in his strong arms. A cursory examination told him that she had sustained no serious injury. But it was plain that the lass had pushed herself beyond the limits. Her skin was deathly white, her breathing shallow.
Neal hurriedly dismounted and knelt beside them. His face was etched with concern. “It was as I first suspected. Lindsey has been harmed by that brute.”
Jamie noted the pleading in Lindsey’s eyes and kept his tone deliberately bland. “She is unharmed. Your sister merely needs time to recover her strength.”
When Robbie also dismounted, Jamie saw the way Lindsey struggled to sit up. Thinking quickly he commanded, “Take these villains to our camp and see that a rider is dispatched to your father. I will remain here with Lindsey until she is strong enough to ride.”
Lindsey shot him a look of gratitude.
“I think we should stay together,” Robbie protested.
It was obvious that Jamie was accustomed to taking charge. In brisk tones he said, “Nay. There is your father to think about. He will be heartsick until he is reassured that his daughter lives.”
“Jamie is right, Robbie,” Neal agreed. “Father and the others will be crazed with worry by now.”
“Aye.” Robbie straightened and pulled himself once more into the saddle. He could see the wisdom of Jamie’s words. His sister would be safe with Jamie MacDonald. There were few who could successfully challenge this giant and win. Especially when the Heartless MacDonald was in such a foul temper. Their father’s fears must be put to rest.
“You do not mind, Lindsey?” Neal called.
“Nay.” She gave her brothers a reassuring smile. “I will merely rest for a little while and then I will follow you soon.”
She watched as the column of horses moved off through the woods. When at last she turned she was startled to find Jamie studying her carefully.
At the intensity of his gaze she felt the heat rush to her cheeks. Lowering her eyes she said, “It seems I am once again in your debt, my lord. Thank you for sparing me the many questions of my brothers.”
“And what of my questions, my lady?”
She remained silent.
“Are you harmed, Lindsey?”
“Nay,” she replied quickly. “I am merely... weary, my lord. I would be alone with my thoughts for a while.”
Jamie’s jaw clenched. Her meaning was quite clear. Since it was privacy she desired, he would grant her wish. Without a word, he began to gather fallen logs. Soon a fire blazed. Close to the heat of the fire he prepared a pallet for her and helped her to lie down.
When he was certain she was resting comfortably, he stepped into the forest. A short time later he returned to the clearing with a deer slung over his shoulders. Following a short distance behind was the sleek form of Wolf, who paused at the edge of the clearing, refusing to move closer.
The lass was asleep. But the remnants of tears still glistened on her closed lashes.
* * *
At Lindsey’s fevered cry Jamie rushed to her side and gathered her gently into his arms. While she struggled he held her close and murmured words meant to soothe. When at last she fell silent, he lay her back down. Her cloak had slipped from her shoulders, revealing her torn and tattered gown. The bruises visible on her flesh caused his stomach muscles to contract violently.
His hand curled into a fist when he thought of the villain who had caused her such pain. With quick, efficient movements, he drew the cloak around her and brushed the damp hair from her cheek. When she started to cry softly he sat beside her and held her. She was so small, so wounded. And so damnably independent. He felt a nearly overpowering need to protect her from every harm.
Holding her as tenderly as a wee bairn, he rocked her and whispered words of endearment, until at last she fell once more into a fevered sleep.
He lay her gently upon the pallet and got to his feet. Her tears had left damp streaks on his tunic. Absently he ran a finger over the dampness. For long minutes he stood over her, willing her the escape she would find in sleep. When at last he was satisfied that her fears had momentarily subsided, he strode to the edge of the river, where he picked a collection of herbs and plants. Returning to the clearing, he ground them into a thick paste, which he applied to the raw flesh of Lindsey’s hands.
As he worked he measured her small palm against his own. How delicate were her hands, with long tapered fingers and soft pink flesh. Not at all like his work-worn palms. As he continued to rub the paste over her hands he felt the sexual tug, low and deep, and fought to ignore it. Each time he touched this woman he found himself battling desires that nearly swamped him.
When he had finished with the ointment, he set out to find other chores that would tax his strength. It was important that he stay busy. Tethering the horses, he removed the frayed reins from her mount and bent to the task of mending them.
* * *
Clouds obscured the noon sun. A blazing fire held the chill of the forest at bay.
Jamie returned from his foray with an armload of logs, then stopped short. A shadow hovered beside the sleeping Lindsey. Dropping the logs Jamie unsheathed his sword and raced to where she lay.
Wolf lifted his head, then backed away. Jamie felt a moment of surprise. Until now the hound had shown little interest in humans, yet it was plain that the animal had been lying beside Lindsey. The marks from his body were still visible in the sand. The hound disappeared into the woods.
Jamie tossed a log on the fire, then stared into the flames, deep in thought. Even the hound seemed to sense the lass’s defenselessness. The wounds to Lindsey’s body were not serious, but the damage done to her peace of mind was far worse. Each time she slept, she battled demons, waking with a cry, ready to fight the enemy that still stalked her in her dreams.
His musings were interrupted by the soft moan that broke from her lips. He hurried to her side. Her eyes were wide, frightened. As he knelt beside her she lunged at him and he was again surprised at the strength it took to subdue her.
“Easy, lass. You are safe now,” he murmured, as he had each time she awoke.
“Jamie?” His voice pierced her consciousness, rousing her. “Is it you?”
“Aye.”
“That man. Argus. He is...”
“Gone, my lady. Neal and Robbie have taken him and the others to our camp.”
“My father?”
“One of your brothers was dispatched to notify him that you are safe.”
Safe. She repeated the word several times in her mind to reassure herself. Then, as if a great weight had been lifted from her, she released a long sigh and let go of the terrible tension that had held her in its grips for the past hours.
Jamie’s gaze trailed to the bruises on her flesh. A string of curses rose to his throat before he swallowed them back. Quickly he stood and forced himself to walk to the fire.
“I have made some broth, my lady.”
He returned to her side. Keeping his tone as gentle as possible he said, “You need to restore your strength, Lindsey. Drink.”
She accepted the tankard from his hand. As she drank, she felt the warmth returning, and her spirits seemed restored.
She glanced down at her raw, torn hands, covered with strips of moist cloth. “What is this?”
“A balm for your wounds.”
“Where did you learn the art of healing?”
“I was man-at-arms to Lady Megan MacAlpin. She is well versed in the art of healing.”
Lindsey heard the note of affection in his tone and experienced an immediate twinge of feeling that startled her. Jealousy? Impossible. She cared not how many beautiful women this Highlander had known.
Lady Megan. Jamie thought about their brief reunion at Brice Campbell’s fortress. Megan and her Irish husband had presented for his admiration their first-born son, Sean. The happy couple seemed content. Content. The thought made him smile. It had been a discontented Megan who had warned that she would never give her heart. Yet there she was, happily married and a proud mother.
In many ways, the lady was much like Megan, wild, headstrong, well versed in the art of weapons and battle, yet uncomfortable with feminine wiles. But there the similarity ended. Megan had never known fear. While Lindsey, though fearless in battle, seemed troubled by very real fears that, though buried deeply, surfaced when she slept.
“Drink it. All of it,” Jamie commanded, walking closer. Though it was not in her nature to accept such terse commands, especially from one such as Jamie MacDonald, Lindsey found herself obeying. When the tankard was empty, Jamie gave a satisfied nod.
“There is fresh venison when you feel strong enough to eat.”
He started to turn away. Instantly she caught his sleeve. “Where do you go?”
He saw the fear leap into her eyes and said soothingly, “I merely intended to throw another log on the fire. I will not leave you, my lady.”
“You may leave if you please. I am not afraid to be alone.”
He saw the way she lifted her chin. With a half smile, he turned away. He could feel her gaze burning into him as he walked to the fire. When he had fed the flames, he brushed his hands on his breeches and returned to her.
“You should rest now, my lady.” He knelt beside her and drew the cloak around her to ward off the chill. “There is much healing power in sleep.”
She placed her hand over his to still his movements. “I do not ask you to stay, Jamie MacDonald. If duty calls you, or if you would return to my father’s camp, I will rest easily alone.”
He felt a rush of heat at her touch and fought to ignore it. The lass did not know what her simplest touch did to him “Nay, my lady. I gave my word that I would stay with you. We will return to camp together when you are strong enough to ride.”
He sat down, with his back resting against the trunk of a gnarled tree, taking great pains to see that he was not touching her. “Sleep now. I will keep watch.”
Her lids fluttered and without any further coaxing, she drifted into sleep.
Beside her, Jamie felt a sudden quickening of his pulse. As he watched her, he thought about the women he had met at the court of Queen Mary in Edinburgh. From their earliest years they had been made aware of the many ways to please a man. Their dress, their manner of speech, their flirtatious behavior left no doubt as to their intentions. Yet not one of them had ever aroused him like this artless innocent. There was a tenaciousness about her that touched something deep inside him.
Jamie felt a sting of annoyance at the way his thoughts continued to center around the female. He had no right to such thoughts. He was a man on a mission. And that mission did not include indulging his own pleasures. With a muffled oath he turned away and closed his eyes, determined to blot out all thought.
* * *
Lindsey awoke to a heaviness against her arm. Her cloak was pinned firmly to her side, preventing her from rolling over. Turning her head, she saw Jamie dozing beside her. She felt a rush of anguish as her thoughts tumbled around.
She remembered crying out, struggling as strong arms embraced her. In her fearful state she had relived her worst nightmare. This was not the first time she had battled these fears. But the attack by Argus had brought on a new round of suffering.
With a flood of embarrassment she realized that she may have revealed her most intimate secrets to this stranger. And then a new thought intruded as images flooded her mind. She had fought him. Fought like one possessed. And he had held her with great tenderness as he sought to comfort her.
How foolish she must have seemed to one like Jamie, accustomed to a life of danger and intrigue. How childish.
For long minutes she lay watching him, struggling with a warring of emotions.
A lock of shaggy hair fell across his forehead. It was oddly appealing, and she found herself wanting to brush it aside. She watched the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest and found her own breathing growing rapid. She studied the way his lashes cast dark shadows across his craggy cheeks.
Suddenly his eyes opened and she found herself staring into those fathomless depths that always seemed to carry a hint of danger.
“So, my lady. Do you feel rested?”
“Aye.” She felt the heat stain her cheeks and was grateful that the canopy of trees shielded the late-afternoon sun from his eyes. She did not want to be caught staring at this man from such close quarters. Nor did she want him to see the remnants of pain she suffered.
“Do you feel well enough to travel?”
“Aye.” She paused a moment to swallow. “You must think me a whimpering child, my lord. Forgive me for my rantings while I slept. I am not usually so foolish.”
“Foolish?” Seeing the color that flooded her cheeks as she turned away from him, he touched a hand to her shoulder.
Her tone had a husky quality to it. “I know now it was you who held me while I fought and behaved in a most uncivilized manner.”
“Lindsey.” He turned her, forcing her to meet his dark gaze. “What you experienced at the hands of the highwaymen would have shocked the sensibilities of any woman. I can see from the cuts on your hands and from the bruises you sustained, how bravely you struggled against your captors. You need make no apology, my lady.” His tone softened until his words were barely more than a whisper. “Even now, when I think of that man soiling you, my blood runs hot with the need for vengeance.”
His touch, his words, were so tender, she found herself responding despite the lingering dread.
“I thought I could escape him,” she whispered. “In fact, I made it all the way to the horses before I was caught.”
“Were you not bound?”
“Aye.”
“Then how did you free yourself?”
“I found several stones imbedded in the earth. In my desperation I rubbed my hands against them until the ropes unraveled.”
That would explain the torn flesh.
“And the leader?” Jamie’s eyes darkened. “Did you see him?”
“Nay. My eyes were covered. He spoke only in a strange whisper.”
“Then we must pray that your father’s men were able to detain him when he approached them for a ransom.”
Jamie’s gaze roamed her face, still warm from sleep, and came to rest on her lips, pursed in a little pout. Once again he felt the tug and was forced to deny it.
With a determined effort he put some distance between himself and the woman. In the past hours he had battled the unsettling emotions that plagued him as he held her and offered her comfort. The battle had left him far more weary than any battle with sword and dirk.
“I will prepare a meal for you.”
“I have no hunger,” she protested.
“You will eat,” he said firmly. “And then we will leave for your father’s camp.”
Lindsey watched as Jamie strode to the fire and cut strips of venison. With food and drink her strength returned, making her eager to take to the trail once more. She glanced at the man who ate quickly, then prepared their horses for the long trek. He had fought her attacker, prepared a soothing balm for her wounds and skinned and cooked a deer for their food. Was there anything this mysterious man could not do?
When he returned he held out his hand. “Can you stand, my lady?”
“Aye.” Lindsey accepted his help and got slowly to her feet. For a moment she swayed, and instantly Jamie’s arms were around her, steadying her.
They both felt the jolt, and fought to deny it.
“I think perhaps you need another day to regain your strength.”
“Nay.” She pushed away from him and forced herself to walk slowly toward her horse. With each step she felt her confidence grow. But when she tried to pull herself into the saddle, she did so only with great effort.
He handed her the reins. His voice was unusually gruff. “We will ride only until dark. Then I will decide if we will go on or make camp.”
His rough tone sounded an alarm in her mind. She had no idea just how much of herself she had revealed to this man during the past hours. What if, in her fevered state, she had revealed the secret she had kept locked all these years in her heart? Though she never spoke about it, her limp was a painful reminder of that terrible moment in her youth. A moment that was burned into her memory for all time.
She clamped her teeth. She must never forget that this was, after all, the man who had warned her father that she would slow them on their journey. And he had been proven correct.
There must be no further display of weakness. Else this angry giant might insist that she be returned to her home in the Highlands. And she would never have her chance to see the queen.