Page 36 of Savage Kilted Highlander

CHAPTER TWENTY

“When we get through the forest, we’ll be nearin’ the outskirts of yer faither’s lands,” Bane said the following morning as they rode beneath the leafy canopy in the crisp, wintry air.

“Oh, good,” Constance said, but she was not sure she really meant it. Yes, she was excited at the prospect of seeing her true family at last, yet she also knew it would mean the end of this extraordinary liberating odyssey which she and Bane had shared. It had given her the rare chance to learn a lot about herself, and she was rather proud of the subtle changes she noticed in her.

She did not enjoy the harsh conditions any more than she had at first, but she appreciated little things a lot more. She no longer complained automatically about every inconvenience. Instead, she focused on keeping pace with Bane, finding herself observing him more closely, noticing the way he moved with quiet efficiency and the way he instinctively scanned their surroundings for threats. His unwavering focus and unshakable resolve were inspiring to her, and she realized she felt safer out in the wilds with him to protect her than she ever had under her stepfather’s roof.

It was around midday when they dismounted on a particularly narrow stretch of the track. She led Lucy by the bridle as she followed along behind Bane and his stallion. Suddenly, she tripped on an unseen tree root and stumbled into some brambles by the side of the path. She hastened to free herself but in vain.

“Oh dear, I am stuck! There are so many thorns,” she cried, letting go of the bridle as she struggled to keep her balance. “If I fall all the way in, I fear I shall never get out.”

He was at her side in an instant. “Hold still. The more ye struggle, the more tangled ye’ll get,” he warned. She stood perfectly still, watching transfixed as his rough, capable hands patiently, delicately untangled the thorns from the fabric one by one, working slowly to free her without damaging the material too much. His closeness made her shiver. Even so, she was utterly unprepared for what came next.

She was bending over so he could get access to a particularly problematic thorn, when she suddenly felt his fingertips gently brush the nape of her neck and his lips descend upon her skin in the softest of kisses. A jolt shook her as she realized he was kissing her birthmark!

“I love that wee spot,” he murmured softly, his voice low, unguarded, and very close to her ear. Strange sensations rushed through Constance’s body, a wave of heat and excitement washed over her, leaving her with a sense of longing for more of his touch. The moment was so intense, she could hardly breathe and she stood completely still, willing him to continue. But no sooner had it happened than he quickly pulled back, as if forcing himself to maintain control.

But the intimate caress and the vulnerability he had shown her by his admission, had started a fire in Constance, that she struggled to tamp down as he went on painstakingly untangling her skirts from the thorns in awkward silence. Even after she was free and they were moving again, she could feel the skin of her neck tingling from his kiss.

It was the first time she realized that he was attracted to her in the same way she was drawn to him, and it shocked her profoundly. He wanted her! And after what had happened, she knew she wanted him too. She wanted him to kiss her and not stop at her birthmark, but to kiss her all over! The fire inside her told her that everything she had felt for him boiled down to one thing: Desire. And as they trekked onwards, it simmered between them like a potent stew bubbling away in a pot.

That day, they travelled further into her father’s territory. Although he was his usual cool, efficient self, she knew Bane well enough by now to see the small signs that he was becoming increasingly tense as they drew closer to the castle. She silently prayed that all would go well with her father, and that Bane would get Tav back, although she did not quite know why as it would mean parting from Bane soon, never to see him again.

She did not like to dwell on that fact because when she thought about it, it felt like she was being torn in half. In spite of the heartbreak that beckoned, she found she desperately wanted him to be happy, even if she could not imagine being happy without him.

Then something terrible happened. They rounded the corner of a trail and emerged into a wide gap of moorland between two stretches of forest. And there, facing them, was a party of four or five armed men on horseback. It took Constance only a moment to recognize their livery as well as the man commanding them. Cold dread filled her, but it was too late to hide. They had already been seen.

Her stepfather was staring at her, a wolfish grin of triumph on his bony, florid face.

She and Bane halted and stood motionless at the edge of the clearing. Her immediate fear was for Bane. Although she knew he could take care of himself, she also knew how cruel and calculating her stepfather was. He was outnumbered, and she could not stand the thought of him being harmed because of her.

“Bane, it’s my stepfather, Lord Ashbourne,” she told him urgently, placing a restraining hand on his arm. “I had no idea he came after me. Please, be very careful. I do not want you to get hurt.”

As her stepfather rode slowly towards them, with his men falling in behind him, Bane stepped in front of her protectively and drew his sword.

With his accustomed arrogance, Lord Ashbourne ignored him as he reined in a few yards away and looked beyond him, addressing Constance directly. “Well, well. Why am I not surprised to find you like this, Constance, living like a wild woman in the forest,” he said in a cold, gloating tone. “Come, enough of this tomfoolery. You are coming back home with me now.”

His commanding tone, so familiar to her, chilled Constance to the bone with fear. But she drew strength from Bane’s protective presence. “I am not going anywhere with you. Not ever,” she replied with a boldness she wished she felt.

Lord Ashbourne made an impatient sound with his thin lips. “Come, come, foolish child. Enough of this pantomime. I have been searching for you for days, and I had a good idea I would find you somewhere within Kerr’s territory. Now, say goodbye to this… this… savage and come here at once.”

Rage flooded through Constance on Bane’s behalf. She raised her chin and shouted back defiantly, “You are the savage. He is more of a man than you will ever be!”

For a moment, Lord Ashbourne appeared taken aback. But Constance saw how he quickly covered it with one of his sneering laughs. “I see a spell in the wilderness of this accursed country has turned your wits. Cease this charade. You are wasting time. Your betrothed awaits you back at home. Come here to me now. I warn you… it would be folly to make me come and fetch you. Your… friend will surely suffer for it.” He cast a threatening glance at Bane. As if to emphasize his words, his men drew their weapons, their horses growing restless beneath them.

“I shall do no such thing. You no longer have any hold over me. You are not my father, and you have no rights over me,” Constance declared, planning to make a dash for it into the trees and draw them away before they could attack Bane.

“Is that so?” Ashbourne sneered. “Very well, if that is how you want it.” He glanced over his shoulder and shouted to his men, “Kill him and bring her to me.”

“No!” Constance cried out in alarm. “Run, Bane, run!”

“I’m nae runnin’ anywhere,” he told her calmly, flexing his sword arm and pulling his dirk from his waistband with his free hand.

“Then I shall run and lead them away. I can lose them in the forest,” she whispered urgently in a last-ditch attempt to protect him.

“Nay. Just ye dae as I tell ye and stay behind me, out of the way,” her growled, gently pushing her back. Terrified for his life but knowing it would be waste of words to try to argue with him, she did as he said and moved back between the trees. Taking cover behind a tree trunk, she could only watch in horror as her stepfather’s men dismounted and advanced upon Bane, brandishing their swords menacingly.

Praying fervently under her breath for Bane’s deliverance, she peeped through her fingers as he clashed with his assailants and a fierce fight ensued. While she had every faith in his ability to protect her, he was badly outnumbered. She feared that even with his superior fighting skills, he would soon be overwhelmed. The thought of him being hurt or even, God forbid, killed, scared her even more than Lord Ashbourne’s threats.