“Hewas beginning to care for me. I cannae leave now.”
“Yemust. And I believe that black-haired knight has cared for ye for a long time. ‘Tissometimes difficult for a mon to ken such things, to understand his own heart.Ye willnae be leaving him by your own choice, so if he has begun to recognizewhat he feels, such emotions cannae be destroyed because ye leave him for a weewhile.”
Apart of Sorcha knew that Neil was right. If Ruari had begun to care for her, itwould not die simply because her brother dragged her home. A greater part ofher, however, was terrified of leaving Gartmhor just when it appeared that shewas starting to inch her way into his heart. Then she recalled that she wouldnot be the only one torn from her lover if Dougal and Ruari remained nearswordpoint.
“Oh,poor Margaret,” she murmured then looked at Neil. “And you as weel.”
“‘TisMargaret I worry over. We shall have to endure more of that cursed weeping andmelancholy.”
“True.”Sorcha frowned for a moment as she thought over the whole problem and still sawno quick and easy solution except for Neil. “Howbeit, ye dinnae need to leaveMalcolm if ye wish to stay with him.” She still did not understand thatromance, but knew she could not discuss it now.
“Ido. My wee mon will wait for me. I cannae settle to that when ye and Margaretcannae settle as weel.”
Sorchawas about to argue what appeared to be a needless self-sacrifice when a faintchange of tone in Ruari’s and Dougal’s bickering drew her attention. The angerand tension were still there, but Ruari was suddenly less combative. An instantlater, she knew why.
“Yeowe me a debt of blood, Kerr,” Dougal said. “Many times over, for ye and yourmen were surely doomed. That more than pays the ransom for my sister and mycousin and the two men ye caught this morning.”
Ruarinodded. “Then consider the ransom paid. Take your cousin and your men, butleave Sorcha here with me.”
“Yeask me to leave my sister, my own flesh and blood, here to play the whore forye?”
“Nay,as my wife.”
Thosethree words pounded in Sorcha’s mind as she struggled to believe what she hadjust heard. Everyone was looking at Ruari in surprise, but she knew that noneof them felt as stunned as she did. Dougal’s shock slowly turned to a coldrage, and Sorcha started toward Ruari. She was confused, unsure of what emotionlurked behind Ruari’s abrupt proposal, but she was sure that if she did not getto him before Dougal could react, all chance to find out might be gone. A sharpcurse escaped her when Dougal ordered two of his men to grab her and she wasunable to elude them. Ignoring her curses, insults, and struggles, they draggedher toward a horse.
“Tieher on there if ye have to,” Dougal ordered, and then he looked at Ruari. “Iwant no Kerr as kinsmon. Ye owe me a debt of blood, Ruari Kerr, and we both kenthat such a debt cannae be scorned. I dinnae want ye within ten miles of mysister. Send my cousin home with my two men,” he snapped then turned sharplyand strode toward the horses they had taken from the English.
“Onelast thing,” Ruari said, following Dougal.
Dougalstopped, turning with his hand on his sword. “We have no more to say to eachother.”
“Ihave but one thing to say to Sorcha.” He ignored Dougal’s threatening pose andcalled to Sorcha. “What of Crayton?”
Sheabruptly stilled her struggles and looked at him. “I will tell him that hisenemy is dead.”
“Thatmay not be enough. Take the Englishmon’s body with ye. Then Crayton will haveno doubts and can finally seek his rest as my uncle did.”
Sorchanodded, briefly silenced by the strength of the emotions tearing through her.Ruari might not fully believe in spirits and all the rest, but he had finallyand fully accepted her belief in them. She unthinkingly took a step toward him,only to have her guards renew their efforts to get her on the back of a horse.
Themen struggled a long time before they finally flung her over the saddle. Whatreluctance they had felt over treating her so roughly vanished, wiped away byall of the bruises and insults she had inflicted upon them. She lifted her headto see Ruari just standing there, silently watching Dougal take her away. Theonly sign that he was distressed by it was the way his hands clenched andunclenched at his sides and the cold, remote expression upon his face, a lookshe knew he assumed when he wanted to hide something. Since this could well bethe last time she saw him, she wished he would give her some hint of what hefelt. She would have liked to have known that she was not the only one who wasbeing torn asunder inside.
Ruariwatched the Hays leave until even the dust from their horses could not be seen.He shuddered as the tension eased from his body. The moment it was gone hewished it back, for now he was too conscious of the intense pain gnawing at hisinsides. As he watched Sorcha being taken away, he realized something he wishedhe had remained blissfully ignorant of—he loved her.
Hespat a curse and turned to help his men prepare to return to Gartmhor. Ifrevealing how much he needed Sorcha at the very moment she was taken from himwas some form of punishment, Ruari felt it far outweighed his crimes. Bound bya debt of blood, the only way he could get Sorcha was for Dougal to unbend, butRuari doubted that the angry young man would do that. What tortured Ruari themost was the knowledge that he had had numerous chances to understand what hefelt for Sorcha, to love her and wed her, but he had wasted all of them.
Therewas very little left to take from the English. The Hays had picked the enemyclean and taken the few prisoners caught with them. Ruari struggled to fix histhoughts on his men, many of whom would need his help to get home. It allowedhim to subdue the turmoil in his mind and heart for a time, as did the need todeliver the sad news to the widows of the men who had died once he reachedGartmhor.
Wearyand heartsore, he wanted to go to his bedchamber, but Beatham’s parents waitedto meet with him in the great hall. He knew they had not seen their son, forthe youth had sequestered himself in his room after Margaret had been takenfrom Gartmhor, kicking and screaming, by her kinsmen. Beatham’s parents arrivedafter the Hays had left. As Ruari stepped up to the head table, he became awareof their shocked stares and tersely explained why he was in such a disorderedstate as he filled his tankard with strong wine.
“Wewere hoping ye could persuade Beatham to speak with us,” said Lilith, Beatham’sdelicate, fair-haired mother. “We have decided to concede to his wishes.”
“Ifear your surrender comes too late. ‘Tis clearly a common affliction amongstthe Kerrs,” Ruari added in a distracted tone.
“Idinnae understand.”
“Therewill be no marriages between the Hays and the Kerrs. Sir Dougal Hay has swornit.”
“Thenthe lad will speak to us again, for ‘tis no longer our fault he cannae wed thelass.”
