His breathing had slowed, the raw tension in his body telling her that he was preparing for whatever might lunge at them out of the trees.
More howling came, closer still.A whole chorus, this time punctuated by guttural growls that made Conall press her against a tree and stand in front of her—Lisette knew, to shield her from the attack.
An attack that came so suddenly, dark hulking shapes rushing at them from three directions even as two of the fearsome creatures were cut down by Conall’s slashing blade.
Lisette cried out when he grunted from the force of a third wolf launching itself at him.
A terrifying snarl became a shrill yelp and then a whimper as the wounded animal collapsed at his feet.
A chunking sound silenced even that whimper, Conall driving his sword into the beast at the same moment sputtering torches appeared through the trees.
Several of Conall’s men rushed toward them and drove away the rest of the pack, the wolves with their glittering orange eyes disappearing as quickly and stealthily as they had come.
“Laird Campbell, did you find her?”
In the torchlight, Lisette held her breath as Conall nodded at his men and turned to face her, his bloodied hand still gripping his sword.
“Do you hear me, Isabeau?Never again.”
He looked so fierce, so grim, that she could but nod at him, horror gripping her that he must have been bitten.
Ah, no, she had seen one of her father’s huntsmen with such an injury succumb to a terrible sickness that had left him writhing and foaming at the mouth!
She had never known such relief when Conall sheathed his sword and wiped his hand against his tunic, the blood coming away with no bite marks underneath.
“Y-you’re not wounded?”she stammered.
Her knees nearly buckled when Conall shook his head.He seemed disinclined to say another word to her as he grabbed her by the elbow and drew her along with him through the trees, his men lighting the way with their torches.He only paused once, to retrieve the cloak he must have dropped to the ground when Lisette had darted away from him, but he didn’t wrap it around her.
He remained silent until they reached the camp, the rest of his men surrounding them while the priest stood to one side, his hands tightly clasped in prayer.
“As you can see, Lady Isabeau is safe,” Conall said without a glance at Lisette, who dropped her gaze at the disapproving looks his men cast her.“We’ve a few hours more until dawn.Let’s get some rest while we can—ifwe can.”
His grip on her elbow tightened as if warning her once more against making another rash move, Lisette not daring to lift her eyes as he led her back to her blanket.
She could not have succeeded more in acting the desperate captive, but she vowed to herself then and there she would never do it again—just as Conall had admonished her.
If he hadn’t caught up with her, she would have been killed by those wolves.Hecould have been injured, too, or worse, her stomach roiling at the danger he’d faced to protect her.
Protect her.
No one had ever done such a thing for her other than her father, who had done his best to shield her from Claudia and Isabeau’s cruelty until the day he died.With a vengeance, the two had then descended like mythic harpies upon her—no, she wouldn’t think of them anymore!
Tomorrow she would marry Conall Campbell and never look back…and she would do nothing again to try and thwart him.
She could be more herself from now on, and he would think nothing of it other than that the young woman he believed was Isabeau had been thoroughly chastised by her reckless attempt to escape—and was now contrite.
So contrite.
He gestured for her to lie down and she did, without a word.
She didn’t even look at him as he covered her first with the cloak and then with the blanket, though she was grateful for his thoughtfulness.The night air was cool and she shivered, which made him lean down and tuck the blanket around her shoulders.
“That should keep you warm enough.Get some sleep.”
Only then did she meet his eyes, Lisette astonished to see no anger in his gaze…though his handsome features were still grim in the firelight.
She could not help staring at him, her breath catching at his masculine beauty.
