Ewan leaped from his horse as the Gordons and Elliots charged in after the reivers. Ewan wasn’t interested in avenging Allyson until he was certain she was away from the battle. He left the fighting to his brother and her father once he saw men rushing into the keep. He took the steps two at a time until he barreled through the doorway. Fighting continued in the Great Hall, and he sliced his sword through anyone who impeded his progress. He stormed up the stairs until he reached the landing, then began pushing open one door after another. He swept all the chambers, realizing he was on the floor where the lord and lady’s family slept, but he wouldn’t take the chance of missing Allyson. Ewan charged up the stairs to the next floor and repeated the process until he came to a locked door.
“Allyson, step back,” he bellowed before running, then ramming his shoulder into the door. The wood splintered as it gave way. Ewan kicked the door open and searched for Allyson.
Allyson heard the booted feet running toward her door, so she’d pulled each of her dirks from the sheaths on her thighs. She had a torch blazing in a sconce near the fireplace, so she positioned herself within reach of it. A garbled voice came through the door before it burst open, and Ewan appeared on the other side. They stared at each for a moment before Allyson dropped her knives and ran into his open arms.
“I’m sorry. So, so sorry,” she murmured against his broad chest as his arms wrapped around her. She went lax as the fight and fear drained from her, and she felt safe for the first time in days.
“I know, lass. You can make it up to me by coming with me, so we can be away from this hellhole and get you somewhere safe.”
Allyson nodded as she leaned back to look at her handsome savior. She wasn’t sure what possessed her; perhaps it was a relief after the constant uncertainty, but she gave in to the urge to kiss Ewan. She grasped handfuls of his leine and pulled him down to where she could wrap her arms around his neck and press her lips against his. His surprise was short-lived, then he returned her need with a need of his own. Forgotten were the hostile words exchanged and the shared resentment. There was only a consuming fire between them. Ewan swept his tongue across the seam of her lips, pressing the tip between hers when she didn’t understand. She parted them enough for Ewan to invade, surging into the warm, silky cavern just as his cock wanted to do with her sheath. A voice in the back of his mind niggled that this was the least appropriate time to grow aroused, but Allyson felt and tasted better than any other woman ever had. A few passes of his tongue across hers, and Allyson caught on, dueling her tongue with his. She thrust hers into his mouth and moaned at the decadent feeling, but noise down the passageway startled them apart.
“Go.” Ewan pointed to the far side of the chamber which would put the bed between Allyson and the door. She scooped up her knives and ran to hide. She peeked around the corner and watched as two men stormed into the chamber. Ewan swung his sword from side to side in wide arcs as they attempted to trap him between them. Ewan thrust his sword into one man’s ribs before withdrawing it and swiping it across the outside of the other man’s thigh. Both men dropped to the ground, and while Ewan ran the second man through, Allyson crawled to the first man’s side and slid her blade across his throat. Ewan spun around as the dying man sputtered. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of Allyson kneeling beside the now-dead man, his blood splattered on her kirtle and dripping from her dirk. She shrugged before rising to her feet.
“I’ve hunted stag before,” was all Allyson offered as an explanation. Ewan nodded and reached out his hand to her. Allyson grabbed her packed satchel and placed her palm against Ewan’s. Both stared as a charge passed between them, a current that pulsed as strongly as their desire had only moments earlier. They left the chamber, then the keep, in silence. Ewan steered them away from the fighting in the Great Hall, taking Allyson out through the kitchens. They dashed across the bailey to where the Gordons and Elliots gathered. Laird Elliot engulfed his daughter in a tight embrace before cupping her cheeks and dropping a kiss on her forehead. They stepped apart, but Allyson bristled when a voice carried across the bailey. She spun around and caught sight of the man who’d brought her to Chillingham. The Scots watched as the leader of the reivers dragged Sir John Sage by the hair through the bailey until Charlton shoved the man to his knees.
“Much as I would like to gut you, you worthless pile of dung, King Edward won’t allow it. Not yet. I will turn you over to him for him to decide your fate. I wouldn’t make plans for a long life if I were you, Sage. You will die by my hand for what you did to my daughter.” Charlton bashed Sir John’s temple with the hilt of his sword.
Allyson glared at the man throughout his pronouncement, and as though he sensed her, he swung his gaze in her direction. Ewan pushed her behind him, and the men encircled her, swords raised, prepared to defend her.
“Lord Elliot, you come out the victor this day. You have your daughter while I don’t have mine. I’d hoped your beautiful daughter would turn Sage’s head from my Elizabeth, but alas, they were a matched pair.” Charlton plowed his booted foot into the unconscious Sage’s ribs. “Don’t expect me to be so generous the next time we meet. If I didn’t have a daughter to bury and this shite to shovel, I would challenge you here and now.”
“Charlton, you’ve always had brass bollocks. You assume much to believe you’d survive a fight with my men and these Highlanders. You’ve run away from our fights too many times to count. Come to my land again, and your soul will join your daughter’s. Wherever that might be.” Kenneth glared at his adversary. They’d postured this way many times over the years, but both men were experienced warriors who refused to back down, so both survived the countless skirmishes inherent to life along the border.
Ewan wasn’t interested in the borderers’ banter. His sole interest was getting Allyson onto his horse and away from Chillingham. He took the reins from one of his men and helped Allyson onto his horse. She tried to shift to the animal’s back, behind the saddle, but Ewan shook his head. He wasn’t satisfied with Allyson riding pillory. He wasn’t certain if he feared she might topple off the back without his arms to hold her in place or if he wanted to feel her in his arms, her body nestled against his. Ewan reasoned that it was the former, but his heart knew that it was the latter. He mounted behind her, adjusting her to offer her as much comfort as possible on a saddle not intended for two riders. Ewan nodded to his brother and their men before spurring his horse toward the portcullis and freedom.
* * *
Allyson roused when Ewan tapped her shoulder. She rubbed her eyes, unaware she’d drifted off.
“You’re almost home, lass,” Ewan whispered. Allyson shifted, and Ewan groaned. She looked over her shoulder, but he shook his head. He’d been in a permanent state of semi-arousal for the entire two-hour ride to Redheugh. Allyson drifted off soon after they set off, but Ewan had endured the feel of her hip rubbing against his groin with each step his steed took. He watched her face, and her expression didn’t look like one of excitement or relief. “You don’t look happy to return to your clan.”
Allyson nodded. She was silent for a long moment before glancing at the keep in the distance, then looking into Ewan’s green eyes. She noticed they were the shade of grass after a summer rainstorm. She pulled her lips in as though she weighed her words before speaking them. “Has the thought of going somewhere or being somewhere ever been more appealing than actually being there?”
Ewan unconsciously tightened his hold around Allyson. Her voice was so soft and resigned that something in his chest pinched his heart. She didn’t look like a young woman eager to see her family or return to her home.
“I suppose court is like that for me. It seems exciting, but I’m always happier to ride away.”
Allyson nodded, but said nothing else until they rode into the bailey. Ewan assumed she was nervous about what her father would say to explain their arrival. Ewan helped her from the saddle, and when she looked like she might collapse, he tucked her arm through his. They walked together into the Great Hall, where four similar faces turned toward them. Ewan noted Allyson’s siblings bore a striking resemblance to the older woman amongst them, but there were traces of their father in their features. Allyson didn’t look like any of them. Where her hair was blond and her eyes blue, all the members of her family that Ewan saw possessed brown hair and brown eyes.
“I know. I don’t look like any of them. Surprising?”
“A little,” Ewan admitted as they approached the woman who was clearly the matriarch. Lady Margaret Elliot smiled at Ewan, but it slipped when she turned her gaze on Allyson. Ewan felt Allyson tense, but her expression remained neutral.
“Allyson, this is a surprise. Your father’s messenger arrived demanding men ride out to join him, but he said naught about them returning with you. What’re you doing here?”
Ewan was taken aback at the curt tone and frigid reception Allyson received. He shifted, but Allyson’s fingers dug into his arms. He glanced down at her, but she continued to look at her family. She knew her mother had more to say. She was certain the woman had a good idea that whatever the reason was, it had something to do with the betrothal, since that was why her father went to court and why Ewan would be accompanying them.
“Mother, I ran away from court to avoid marrying Ewan. I evaded Ewan and father for three days but the border reiver, Charlton, captured me and took me to Chillingham. I’ve been there for the past four days.” Allyson knew there was no point in avoiding the truth. Her family would soon know once her father began his rant against her. She knew it was inevitable; she just didn’t know when it would start.
“You ran away from court?” A young man chortled. “That sounds about par for the course with you, little sister.”
Ewan noticed that the term so similar to the affectionate one he used with Eoin held no warmth coming from Angus Elliot. Ewan recognized the heir to the clan from many encounters at court over the years. They weren’t friendly, but he had held no dislike for the man until he heard the way he addressed Allyson. It rankled. Lady Margaret stepped forward until she stood before Allyson and Ewan. Two out of three of Allyson’s sisters and one brother watched their mother advance on their youngest sibling.
“I beg your pardon, Ewan. I’ve been remiss in welcoming you as our guest here at Redheugh. It’s a pleasure to have you.” Allyson’s mother spared a glance at her before turning and stepping next to one of Allyson’s sisters. Allyson was a beautiful young woman, but the woman Lady Margaret stood next to was stunning. She nudged Allyson’s oldest sister forward. “Allyson, you must stay in the tower. Your nephews now sleep in your chamber since it’s close to Laurel and her husband. It doesn’t seem to make sense to disturb the arrangement since you won’t be here long. The chamber next to Mary’s is available for you, Ewan.”
Ewan stiffened. He couldn’t believe any of what he was hearing. Allyson was being relegated to the oldest portion of the keep. He’d seen the tower when they arrived, and it looked as hospitable as a bog. It stunned him that Lady Margaret would suggest he take a chamber next to Allyson’s widowed sister, even pushing the woman toward him, while Allyson stood there. It was clear everyone knew he was to be betrothed to Allyson.
“Yes, Mother. If you’ll excuse me, I shall retire and make myself more presentable.”
