“Aye, Ethan and I were forever underfoot, and we destroyed more than our share of her best furniture. She had the patience of a saint, truly.”
Ella smiled down at him. “I’m so glad you brought me here, Ceann. I would have it no other way.”
A cloud came over his eyes for a moment as he was reminded of his suspicions; of the chance he was taking in letting her in, just a little. Part of him was still bracing for everything to blow up in his face. Nothing this good could ever really last, could it? Ella leaned in to place a soft kiss on his mouth, and he decided that hoping was worth it after all.
Chapter 15
In the next weeks, a tender trust began to grow between them, and Ceann felt a spark of happiness for the first time in as long as he could remember. He held it carefully in his heart, too wary to let it grow. There was still too much between them that was unsaid, unknown.Ella was all he could have dreamed of, and more. She was beautiful, yes, but that wasn’t the best thing about her. She was also clever and kind and spirited, and courageous. His ideal mate. In truth, he felt whole when she was with him.But he still could not coax the truth from her, and the uncertainty gnawed at his gut. He was afraid; afraid of losing her and afraid that he would do anything to keep her by his side. And afraid that he would find out the worst, that having Ella for his own was a hopeless dream. He steeled himself against the day he would discover her duplicity, sure it would all come crashing down on him. It would have to. Nothing so perfect could last, at least not in his world.
And then came word of renewed MacDonald raids on his western lands. He would have to fight. A month ago, he would have welcomed the battle, but now… now he was strangely reluctant to go. He had found something that meant more to him than fighting.
Ella watched as the men readied for battle. A fearsome lot they were, with their massive claymores slung over their backs. Ceann had warned her to stay with her guard at all times; with luck he would return that night, or perhaps the next day, depending how far the MacDonalds had already gotten. He took her breath away, mounted on his nervously prancing stallion, shouting orders to his men. His arms could wield a heavy claymore as if it weighed nothing, and still hold her gently as he kissed her. He did not say goodbye, did not look back at her before he rode out with his warriors. In this way he made her statuspainfully clear: a lover, a mistress, nothing more. She was not sure she could ever be happy with less than all of him. God, she wanted to beeverythingto him, because he had become so to her. She tried to replace the disappointment with determination, going off to pull weeds in the garden behind the kitchens.
The old, rather neglected garden had become her own project in the weeks she had been at Tulloch, and she was proud of how well it was growing under her care. Carefully, she weeded and thinned the tiny seedlings and tried not to think about Ceann. Would he have reached the marauding MacDonalds by now?The clan was ambitious and power-hungry, bent on expanding their territory to the west, and conquering all that stood in their way. Already they had toppled several less powerful chieftains. They were bold and fearless to raid at the borders of Tulloch; everyone knew its strength.
Suddenly a strange feeling came over her; a slight buzzing in her ears, a soft graying at the edge of her sight. She sat back on her heels and clutched at the ground, preparing for the vision that would come, unable to do anything else.Ceann. She saw Ceann, on his black stallion. A battle, shouts and the clash of metal. Then it came, a blow from behind, while he fought off two MacDonald warriors at his side. He fell, slowly, blood… Ethan’s face frozen in horror from a few lengths away… “No!”
Ella rose swiftly to her feet, fighting a wave of dizziness. “No…”she breathed.She very rarely had visions, but when she did, they always came fierce and strong. And always she saw something that was just about to happen, leaving her very little time to act.She ran for the stables, feeling for her dirk. It was there in the pocket of her gown. She looked around wildly, relieved to see a horse already saddled and tied in the back of the building. Pulling the ties loose, she leapt onto its back and kicked it hard. She was through the gate and gone before anyone had time to even react. Luckily Ceann had taken his men over the moor, and the tall grass was crushed by the passage of so many horses, leaving an easy trail to follow. “Oh, God, please let me be in time!”
The ride seemed endless, how far could the border be? But at last she heard what could only be the sounds of a battle.She slowed,moving cautiously now, until she was close enough to see. She searched frantically, scanning the sea of moving horses and flashing swords. Finally she saw him, Fallon rearing as Ceann swung his claymore in an arc high above his head, before bringing it down on his enemy. Two more came forward to replace the fallen man. Her relief at seeing him alive was short-lived, as the man from her vision moved into an opening just behind Ceann. Without conscious thought, she spurred her horse forward, reaching for her dirk. She saw Ethan, out of the corner of her eye; he had seen the danger. He yelled to Ceann, who looked up and saw her there. His look of surprise was quickly turning to one of rage, but the man behind him was now raising his sword. Ella threw her knife, just as Ethan and another MacKenzie moved in to take out the two other MacDonalds. Ceann saw the knife leave her hand, and turned. It slid neatly into the heart of a man who an instant later would have felled him.
He looked around, shaken. The battle was over now. The last of the MacDonalds had fled, though they would surely be back to fight another day. Ethan was by his side, breathing hard, his eyes wide. “She saved your life.”
“Aye.”
He looked to where Ella still sat her horse, her back straight and proud, though she too was trying to catch her breath, and her expression was one of uncertainty. He didn’t know what to think, what to feel. Should he be angry that she had disobeyed and followed him, putting herself in danger, or grateful that she had? He rode slowly over to her, glancing back to see that his men had everything under control for the moment.
“Where did you learn to throw a knife like that?”
She shrugged.“You never know when such a skill could come in handy.” Malolm had taught her, years ago.
“Why did you follow us?” he asked softly, but she could hear the anger in his voice.
“I thought I could help… I thought you might be in trouble…”
He reached out and grabbed her arm, squeezing tightly. “You thought you could help?You defied me and rode out on your own becauseyou thought you could help?”
She made a sound as his grip on her arm grew tighter, but then the pounding of hooves drew his attention away from her. It was her guard. Of course they had followed after her. She looked at Ceann. His lips were pressed together in a tight line. She thought perhaps he was going to vent his rage at the men who had just belatedly caught up to her, but instead he turned to Ethan.
“You and Gregor can handle things here?”
Ethan nodded. “Aye, go ahead; there are only a few minor wounds. Luck was with us.” He shot a wonder-struck look at Ella.
Before she knew what was happening, Ceann lifted her from her horse and placed her none-too-gently in the saddle before him. Apparently, she was going to be the one to suffer his rage. He remained silent as they rode back towards Tulloch, as did she. With the shock of all that had just happened, she didn’t know what to say. After a few miles, he veered off the trail and into a copse of trees. When they reached a large boulder, he stopped the horse and slid off, bringing her with him. He held her by the arms and almost shook her, he was so angry. And frightened. Seeing her appear in the midst of heated combat had terrified him. “How could you risk your life like that, riding into a battle? Damn it Ella, you could have been killed!”
She stiffened in his grip, angry thathewas angry.“Youcould have been killed! Don’t bother thanking me, you ungrateful, overgrown… boor!”
He searched her face, his fingers tightening further on her arms. “How did you know?Howdid youknow? Are you a MacDonald?”
“I didn’t… I didn’t know.I just had a feeling.”
His rage had not yet cooled.To see her there, among his enemies… in danger…yet she almost certainlyhadsaved his life. He could not have defended himself against three men on three different sides. He could have been killed, or at least gravely injured.
“You rode all this way because of afeeling?And you didn’t bother to bring anything but aknife?” He paused. “How did you get away from the guards?”
She struggled against his iron grip. “Let go, you’re hurting me!” She kicked ineffectually at his shin, but he didn’t seem to even notice.“I took the horse and rode out of the gate before they could stop me. There was no time…”
He didn’t let go. Ceann stared down at her, his breath coming short and fast. The rush of the battle accompanied by pent-up fear and anger was quickly translating itself into a physical need that would not be denied. He almost groaned aloud as waves of desire washed over him thick and hot.He needed her, had to have her…at all costs had to have her now… He started moving forward, backing her inexorably toward the face of the rock. A little breath was knocked from her chest as she hit the stone, and she looked up at him, eyes wild and questioning, even as they were heavy with passion.For him. He pinned her to the rock with his weight, as his hand dipped down to lift her skirt, hitching it up around her waist. Moving his plaid out of the way, he entered her hard, pausing to lift her hands up over her head, holding them there as he drove into her. She cried out once, then he knew nothing else as he pounded into her, trying to get beyond the fury and the pain and the unfairness of it all. Trying to lose himself in her body, and in the waves of pure pleasure that soon overcame him, until with one last thrust he let out a triumphant roar. All of his rage, all of the blood-lust still pounding in his veins from the battle left him then, extinguished in that final violent, pulsing moment of ecstasy. When he released her hands, she sagged against him like a ragdoll, and for a moment he again thought he must have hurt her.“Tha mi duilich”I’m sorry. Worried, he took her chin in his hand and turned her face up to his own. She smiled softly.
