“Nay, I havenae touched a single woman at Dunburn except you.”
“Davida doesnae count, is that it?”
“I ne’er touched Davida either. She was sent to me in the hope that she would make me miss the meal in the great hall that evening.”
He certainly looked as if he was telling the truth, his gaze not wavering from hers at all. Cecily hastily pushed aside all thoughts of what Davida had or had not been doing with him in his bedchamber. It carried the taint of jealousy, and she did not want this man to know that she might care enough to even be jealous.
“Nay, just because Sir Fergus and Anabel once shared a bed, it doesnae mean she shared anything else. She is as good, if nay better, than Sir Edmund at keeping a secret.”
“Some secrets can slip out nay matter how careful one is, e’en if it is only enough for someone else to start adding things up.”
“And ye think Sir Fergus did a wee bit of adding and came up with something that has the power to make Sir Edmund and Anabel do what he wants?”
“Aye, he has something to club them with to get what he wants.”
Cecily waited a moment but Artan said nothing else, so she demanded, “Weel? If ye want me to believe all ye are saying, ’tis best if ye tell me all ye heard or think ye heard. Why would Sir Edmund and Lady Anabel do what Sir Fergus asks them to?”
“Because he discovered they had something to do with the death of your father and brother.”
Every ounce of color fled Cecily’s face and Artan reached for her. Just as he moved there was a noise he recognized all too well. He felt the air stirred by the arrow as it sped by just behind his neck. How had Sir Fergus found them so quickly?
Chapter 9
The arrow was still trembling when Cecily suddenly found herself scooped up into Artan’s arms. Her gaze stayed fixed upon that arrow as he ran to his horse and tossed her into the saddle. Not once did she protest as he mounted behind her and kicked Thunderbolt into a gallop. She just hung on for dear life and tried to sort out her confused thoughts as Artan saw to their escape.
Despite all of her threats, she did not wish Artan to be hurt, yet it was now very clear that his life was in danger. If he had not leaned toward her just a little at that precise moment, that arrow would have buried itself in his neck instead of in the tree. She would have had to stand there and watch him die.
Cecily shivered as a chilling fear for him rushed through her. Obviously, his deceit and betrayal had not been enough to kill her feelings for him. She did not believe all he had told her about her kinsmen and Sir Fergus, but she knew that Artan meant her no real harm. He had been told to bring her to her uncle at Glascreag, and although she might deplore his methods, he did not deserve to die for it.
She decided she was left with two choices. She could get Artan to leave her behind and then run for his life, or she could stay with him until they reached Glascreag. Cecily felt almost certain she could never accomplish the former. A man like Sir Artan Murray would not run away, especially not after all he had done to entrap her into this foray. And if he truly believed all he had told her, he believed her life was in danger and he would never leave her to face her enemies alone. That meant she was headed to Glascreag. She knew she was not much of a shield, but she felt her presence should cause their pursuers to at least show some care. After all, they did not want her to die.
As soon as they stopped running she would tell Artan her decision. It would not stop the pursuit of her kinsmen and, she suspected, the Ogilveys, but it would make it easier for Artan. At least he would no longer have to worry about guarding her anymore. He could turn all of his attention to guarding his back and getting them both safely behind the walls of Glascreag. She just hoped he did not give her much of an argument when she told him that her stay there would be very short. As soon as the Donaldson and Ogilvey men arrived at her uncle’s gates, she had every intention of returning to Dunburn with them.
It was dark by the time they halted. The only sound Cecily made as Artan helped her to dismount was a soft groan. Her body felt as battered as if she had been thrown down a rocky slope—several times. She could not even feel duly grateful for the fact that Artan had untied her and she was now free. Espying a lush spot of grass, she walked toward it and carefully sat down. Putting her full weight on her abused backside was more than she could bear, however, and she slowly reclined until she was flat on her back.
Glancing to her side, she watched Artan tend to his horse. The beast was well trained and had both speed and endurance. At the moment, however, she did not appreciate that as she knew she should. The fact that Artan moved around as if he had not spent the better part of two days in the saddle did not please her very much either. In the mood she was in, Cecily suspected angels could descend from heaven and offer her all she could ever desire in life and she would be hard-pressed to count her blessings.
“No fire?” she asked when Artan came and sat down beside her.
“Nay, I cannae be sure where they are, and I dinnae want e’en the faintest hint of smoke in the air to lead them to us. In truth, I was taken by surprise today. I hadnae expected them to take up the pursuit so quickly.”
She frowned as she thought about that. “Nay, they shouldnae have guessed I was gone until the morning meal at the very earliest. I wonder how they kenned I had slipped away? I am verra sure no one saw me if only because, if they had, an alarum would have been called.”
Artan took a drink of wine and handed the wineskin to her. He did not want to say what he was thinking. Someone had gone to his or her bedhamber and discovered they were missing. Considering what he had done to Sir Fergus, there was every chance the man had sent someone to cut his throat. It was just as possible that the man himself had tried to slip into Cecily’s bedchamber and take from her what he had been denied taking from that poor wee maid. The fact that Artan had been showing Cecily some marked attention certainly would have inspired the man.
The why of their discovery did not really matter, however. All that was important was that someone was after them and would be trying to catch or kill him all the way to Glascreag. When he thought of what a poor job had been done in the various attacks on him at Dunburn, Artan was deeply concerned about Cecily’s safety. She could all too easily be injured or killed, despite the fact that they would have been sent out to retrieve her. Unfortunately, she would be no safer at Dunburn, and he could think of few places he could safely hide her between Dunburn and Glascreag, not without traveling miles out of their way. Worse, until she believed him about the threat to her life, she would undoubtedly just try to return to Dunburn if he left her side.
“So ’tis just ill luck that has put them on our trail so quickly,” Cecily muttered. “I seem to be having a lot of that just lately.”
Artan bit back a smile. She sounded sulky and there was the definite hint of a pout in her expression. He did not remark upon her statement because he knew she would undoubtedly let him know she considered it all his fault. In one way it was. He had not planned on the pursuit starting so quickly.
“We shall rest here for the night and start our journey again just before the sun rises,” he said.
“I ne’er really saw who was chasing us.”
“Some of your guardian’s men and some of Sir Fergus’s.”
“Who leads them?”
