Duncan nodded. “And we did. But we heard ye scream and some thought it best if a few of us made certain ye hadn’t been attacked.” He kept his attention focused on his commander.
The others had no reservations about ogling her, however. In a trice, they had taken in the state of her gown, her mouth, and seemed horrified by the state of her hair. It seemed Tearloch had accomplished exactly what he’d set out to do.
They saw her differently now. No doubting it. And while they stared, she could almost see the thoughts in their heads as they imagined what might have transpired in that field.
Her face heated and she tried to raise her chin, but couldn’t manage it. Not as long as they believed…
She opened her mouth to erase the misunderstanding, but her horse shifted beneath her, forcing her to grasp the saddle to stay seated. She looked up to find that Tearloch had a hold of the animal’s bridle.
A stern warning in his eyes, in the set of his mouth—a message for her alone.Hold yer tongue or ye will regret it.
She dropped her attention to her lap and waited silently, like a whipped pup. He said she would not suffer, but she was suffering now. And humiliation had its own sting.
When Duncan spottedthe two coming up the road, he sighed his relief. The fight with his fellow captains could end now. They’d wanted to fly to the lady’s aid when they heard her screams, and the debate had waged up and down the road, changing directions with every argument. In the end, they’d agreed to wait it out on the road after he vowed to let them tear their commander to pieces if the woman had been harmed.
As the pair approached, with Tearloch looking the victorious peacock and Kenna’s gown in shreds, he realized how foolish that vow had been. He trained his attention on the king’s smug champion who might have, for once, pushed his position too far.
The woman was surprised to see them and none too happy about it. It took her a moment to realize that they all suspected what had happened to her. She confirmed those suspicions when she instantly flushed a deep shade of red that was at odds with her tousled hair.
The fool pushed his luck even further. When the lass might have spoken Tearloch reached for her horse and pulled her offbalance, then silenced her with a look. Even Duncan couldn’t defend that.
“Enough,” Tearloch barked at them all. “I am eager for a soft bed, so we must push hard to reach home while there is still light on the road.” He nudged his horse forward, but no one moved.
Bold as brass, Jamie headed for the woman. He cast a menacing glare at Tearloch and didn’t stop until he sat beside her, albeit above her.
“Allow me, my lady.” He took the blanket from behind his saddle, unrolled it, and draped it over her head and shoulders like a cloak. The ends draped down to cover the state of her garments. “I sense a coming storm.” He glanced again in Tearloch’s direction. “And Queenie and I would consider it a favor if ye rode with us.”
Without waiting for permission, the lad scooted back and lifted the woman onto his saddle, seating her sideways.
“Ye’ll be…warmer this way.” Now it was Jamie playing the peacock, but he was wise to put heels to his horse and move quickly beyond Tearloch’s reach.
The rest of them fell in behind him, caring little whether the king’s fool joined them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Kenna believed she finally understood why her laird and master wanted her backside sore. Even sitting sideways across Jamie’s saddle, she hissed in a breath when Queenie took her first lunge.
Jamie said nothing until their lead grew enough that the others would not hear. “Forgive me, my lady,” he begged. “I did naught to stop him. The shame is mine.”
She had to push the blanket away to face him and chose her words carefully. “He was…determined. There was no dissuading him.” She shook her head. “I am grateful for your kindness. I will not forget it.”
Letting the fabric fall back into place put an end to their conversation. And with the makeshift hood pulled forward, she wouldn’t need to worry about the others studying her. She was also careful not to look behind them. The last thing she wished to see was four men slapping Tearloch on the back in some twisted sign of congratulations.
With Jamie’s arms wrapped around her to hold the leads, Kenna relaxed against him and found brief stretches of sleep. Once, she woke to find her face soaked with tears. For a moment,she hoped it had all been a dream, but alas, she was still seated on the black warhorse, held in place by the wrong set of arms.
She let the tears fall…
The occasional glanceor scowl from his captains grew tiresome, so Tearloch pushed his horse to take the lead, and the others welcomed him to it. They could glare daggers into his back all they liked, but he wouldn’t have done anything differently.
He’d lied to his future bride, of course. It wasn’t the men of Lochahearn he worried about, or even his company. It was her. If she believed no one would accept her offer now, then she would cease expecting someone to take up her cause. And hopefully, his vow will have put the matter to rest.
She would speak to her brother and learn the truth, that Leith MacPherson didn’t need killing. And now that he himself was the laird of the MacPhersons, if she still wanted his head when all was said and done, then so be it.
There was good reason why he was the king’s champion, and not because they’d been friends since their youth, when his father, The Kingmaker, had brought Malcolm home. No one could best him. So he’d given her the truth when he’d said that The MacPherson could not be killed unless he permitted it.
It was a pity his father couldn’t be asked, now, why he hadn’t allowed the sister to come along all those years ago. But he was confident there had been a reason. If his father had known the girl would be abused by that madwoman, he wouldn’t have left her in the woman’s care.
Surely.
