Ravished By The Iron Highlander (Steamy Scottish Historical Romance) Read online

  “Send for the leather workers,” he ordered, “And don’t let anyone take one of these saddles out. Did ye see anyone near the stables when ye came back”

  “Aye, sir,” the youth nodded. “Lady Brynkirk was near here but she dinnea stay long.”

  Mother!

  The boy then nervously asked, “Is Miss Isabella doing well, me Laird?”

  With how outgoing Isabella was, he should not be surprised that the boy knew her and it touched him deeply that even the servants had bonded with her. “She is still down for the count, but I’m sure she’ll wake up soon. Thank ye for yer help.

  The boy breathed out and nodded, “Me too, me Laird and yer welcome.”

  Leaving them, he went back inside the castle and up to the room where he had left his mother. She was not there and after giving his regards to Miss Dellendine, went to find her in her sitting room.

  “I found Isabella,” he said while striding in. “She was nearly dead on the hill pass and the saddle girth had been cut. What would you ken about that, Mother?”

  Lady Elsbeth stood, her face white. “Duncan…are you accusing me of such a crime?”

  It pained him dearly but he had to speak it. “What other conclusions can I come to? The lad in the stables said ye were the only one he saw today near it. Ye’ve clearly shown yer disdain for Isabella the moment ye ken she was English. Ye even outrightly likened her to Caitrin, a woman who ripped me heart of me chest and fed it to wolves.”

  His mother’s face was firming, “Son, I only said those things because I had seen ye when ye were deaf and blind to all her signs. I was only looking out to protect ye.”

  “And have Isabella shown ye any of the signs Caitrin did?” Duncan asked and when she could not speak, he nodded. “That is right, she hasnae. Ye were out of place Mother. Luckily, I found her before she froze to death.”

  “Duncan—”

  “Just stay away from her, Mother,” he said stonily. “It pains me to do this but, just stay away from her.”

  His heart felt slashed in half when he had confronted his mother. Nothing had ever pained him more than when the thought that his mother might have been the one to try and kill his beloved had sprung to his mind.

  But what else is there? As far as I ken, no one here is put off by Isabella’s presence. Some even love her more than they regard me.

  Leaving, he got to the infirmary to see that a little color had returned to Isabella’s cheeks and that she did not look to be in pain. He traced her elfin features with an anxious gaze, hoping she would wake up soon so he could see her beautiful eyes. It was with a heavy heart that he kissed her forehead and went to his rooms to sleep.

  Morning came and no change. Though tempted to shirk his duties and stay by her side, he knew he would regret doing do so. Thus, with another kiss to her forehead he whispered to her ear, “Get well soon, love.”

  He stayed out in the village as long as he could to stop himself from running back to the castle and stationing himself in the infirmary. He had posted Ewan and Grant to rotate in guarding her.

  It was after supper when he got home, tiredly handing his horse over to a stable hand and then trudging up to the castle. He went to the infirmary and lingered at the doorway. Isabella was still sleeping and he was getting afraid that perhaps the injury had been more severe than he had believed.

  A healer spotted him and came to him with compassion on her face, “She is going to wake up, me Laird.”

  He sagged on the doorjamb and sighed, rubbing a hand over his tired face. “I ken but it's…hard.”

  Massaging his eyes, he took one look at her, spun and rested his hand on Grant’s shoulder. The soldier’s face was impassive, “The healer is right, me Laird, she is going to wake up. Miss Isabella is stronger than this.”

  “I pray so,” Duncan breathed out. He caught sight of Miss Dellendine’s maid lingering at the edges of his sight. He turned and she came closer. Duncan could not help but think the woman was not at all enthused at being here, in Scotland. Whenever he was near her, she was impassive. Courteous, but still, impassive.

  She had a distant aloofness around her that had him being wary around her. He canted his head to the side, “May I help ye, Miss Polver?”

  “Miss Dellendine is not feeling well,” Miss Polver said. “Her knees are hurting her but she asks me to find out how Miss Dellendine is faring?”

  Fleeting a look to the doorway, he turned back. “By all appearances, she is getting better but hasnae woken up yet. I’m sure she will wake up soon.”

  She nodded, uttered a thank you, and turned away. It did not pass Duncan’s notice that she had not uttered her own good wishes to her mistress’ niece. But he brushed it as her not being comfortable around his people.

  He turned back to Ewan whose brows were tightly knit in the middle. He cast a searching look to Duncan but did not say a word. “Keep guard, Dougall, MacNair kens when to relieve ye.” He made to turn away then stopped. “What did ye see when ye looked at Miss Polver?”

  The soldier shook his head, “I cannae even make up me mind much less tell you, me Laird. She was like a blank wall.”

  “Me sentiments exactly,” Duncan replied. “I ken she’s still tryin’ to adjust to living here.”

  “That could be it,” Ewan declared but the reticence in Ewan’s voice had him wondering what the man was holding back. He then added. “If there are any changes with Miss Isabella on me watch, ye’ll be the first to ken. Good night, me Laird.”

  Walking away, Duncan was happy to know his love had gained such loyalty in such little time. He doubted there was a soul in his soldier ranks that was not ready to defend Isabella with his life, if it came to that point.

  At least, on that issue, he could rest easy. But on the issue of who had tried to kill her, he knew he would feel no peace until the person was caught.

  Who could it be…who would want to kill her? Almost every soul here seems to love her. Who is this traitor in our midst?

  25

  A dull throb was pulsing through her head when Isabella swam to consciousness. It felt like lead bricks were being tied down to her eyes as she tried to open them. When she did, a slice of relief came when no harsh lights burned her sensitive eyes.

  She sat up but her stomach began to roil and she laid back, with her chest heaving. A woman stopped her and rushed over and laid a hand on her forehead. “Calm ye, Miss Isabella. Yer in the infirmary. Ye had an accident while riding and Laird Brynkirk rescued ye.”

  Trying to think back, Isabella only saw a haze of white, a feeling of frantic fear and then…black. Black and cold chill. “How…” she swallowed, “how did it happen?”

  “Yer saddle failed, Miss,” the woman said with deep sympathy on her face. “It snapped, ye were in the snow and were turning blue when me Laird found ye. Ye were asleep for almost two days now.”

  “Two days!” she exclaimed then grimaced at how her loud voice made her head pound. “Duncan is probably beside himself by now.” She sagged back and clenched her eyes tight, sucking in deep breaths through her nose to quell the ache.

  “Aye, I was,” the relieved voice of the man in question came from the doorway. She peeled her eyes open to see him come toward her, the deep-set lines in his face were too engrained for her comfort.

  The healer got up and moved away. “I’ll get some water, tea, and porridge for ye, Miss.”

  Duncan took her place, grasped her hand and reached over to kiss her cheek. “How are ye feeling, love?”

  Not answering him for a moment, she watched the emotions cross his face. “I think I should be asking you that question. I know I was hurt but you look deeply troubled. Why? Is it because my saddle failed?”

  His eyes were not calm again but rather as if the earth had split open and molten emotions were in his eyes, “I dinnae want to tell ye now, Isabella, ye are—” She stared at him and his voice trailed off. In the silence, her pained expression said, ‘don’t you trust me by now’, and he let out a
long sigh. “Yer saddle dinnae fail, Isabella, a girth was cut to the point it frayed when ye rode up the hillside. And it wasnae only yer saddle’s girth that was cut, someone took a knife to all of them in the stable.”

  Her head might be thumping but she was able to decipher what he was saying. “Someone tried to kill me.”

  She could see that he was trying to not show her his fear but the tightness at the side of his eyes had her reaching up to smooth them out. “I won’t leave you, Duncan.”

  His head turned into her hand and nuzzled unto her touch, and her breath hitched at the weariness in his face. Duncan had the mien of a knight, with an expression that resembled tempered steel. But now she saw tiredness chipping away at his steel plates. The clean structure of his cheekbones and square jaw was offset by the deep frown marring his face.

  “I still fear for ye,” he muttered.

  A soft kiss to her palm and the muted look in his eyes had her heart aching for him. “With you, I’ll always be safe.” Her hand slid into his hair while her thumb traced over his eyebrow, “Don’t blame yourself for what you were not able to control.”

  “That’s the issue,” he pulled away, his face going hard again, “I should have—” he looked over her shoulder to see a woman coming their way with a tray balanced on her hands, then flicked a glance at Isabella and his look was contrite. “I’ll be back later. Eat, love, and rest yerself, I cannae bear to lose ye either.”

  His fingers slid through hers as he parted and when he left the room, she felt like her heart had gone with him. Her attention turned to the healer coming toward her and she decided to shove the worry for who had wanted to kill her so badly they had damaged all the saddles in the stables to the back of her mind. When she was ready and able to think about it, then she would.

  “Miss Isabella,” the woman smiled in relief, “I’m so happy yer awake. Ye need something warm in ye. I have an herbal brew for ye to drink. It’s an old healing brew but it might make ye sleep.”

  Sitting up, Isabella reached over for it, “Whatever it takes to get me better.”

  “Ye need to eat first, miss,” the woman replied and handed her a bowl of warm porridge. “Then, ye can take the brew.”

  The meal was warm, sweet and filling and she ate it all. She rested a little before taking the brew and drank. The healer was right, she began to feel drowsy. Before she slipped off, she asked, “When I wake, may I be sent to my room?”

  “If ye feel better, Miss,” the lady sitting at her side said. “Please, rest.”

  She drifted off but a dream slithered through her mind. She saw herself in the middle of a field covered with a thin mist. The dress she wore was thin and cold began to slither through it to freeze her skin. When she began to lift her arms, they were chained to the ground and then the field changed to a cold brick cell with iron bars facing forward.

  “What is this?” she cried. “Where am I? Let me go!”

  “Never”, the cold, insidious invisible voice of her brother Ralf hissed. “You think you escaped me, but I will find you and make you submit to my will.”

  “You will never force me, brother,” she said, her tone as icy as his.

  “Really,” Ralf’s disembodied voice said with a smugness she hated. “What if I kill the one thing you love more than your life? I'm sure that will make you heel.”

  “What are you—”

  Then, right before her eyes, she saw Duncan standing on a cliff’s edge smiling at her right before a sword ran through his gut and he cried out, careening over the side. Isabella screamed.

  She jolted awake, and clamped her lips tight to stop the scream bubbling in her throat. The room was dark but the fright was still making her skin prickle. She sat up and rubbed her hands over her face. The wide room was dark and no one was there.

  A glance out the window told her dawn was a good way away and she was not going to wait. She had to see Duncan! Slipping out of the bed, she hissed at the cold floor but though her limbs were weak, she held onto the wall and walked out. Her hands slipped on the dark walls but she slowly made it down the stairs.

  Pausing every ten or so feet to catch her breath and steady her trembling legs, she knew she had to push on. One foot at a time…with that mantra running through her mind, she made it to Duncan’s room and fell heavily on the door.

  Sucking in deep breaths, and hoping he had not latched it from the inside, she pushed in and the door swung in. Duncan was in the bed, but then, he was on his feet, crouching in a defensive position.

  “Stop,” she said tottering forward, “it’s me.”

  His arms folded around her and she sagged into his chest. “Isabella, what in the—why are ye here? Ye are supposed to be resting. And where is Grant? He should be watching ye?”

  “I didn’t see anyone as I left,” she exhaled while his arms slid under her knees and she was carried over to the bed. Gently, she was rested and Duncan joined her. It was dim but even though she saw his face, she had to touch him too. Sliding her fingers into his hair and resting her thumb on his face, she said. “I had a bad dream, Duncan. My brother…” she swallowed, “he killed you…stabbed you right through the gut.”

  “Isabella—”

  “I know it wasn’t real but I had to see you,” she stressed, “to make sure you were alive.”

  Small kisses were being dropped along her hairline. “Oh, lass. I’m nay going anywhere.”

  “Duncan,” she hesitated, “my brother is not one to underestimate, one day he will find where I am and come for me. He has a habit of destroying things that are precious to me and I know. He smashed my toys and kicked my pets. In fact, I left my last dog with him and it pains me to think that Bandit will be dead by now. He will aim for you when he finds out that I am in love with you.”

  “Me home is built like a fortress,” Duncan said, “Even if he lands on our shores, word will come to us before he gets close. I can send for help from my neighbors. He willnae win.”

  She could see how, why he thought so as he did not know Ralf. But she was not able to debate with him. Her body was tired and so was her mind. “I’m staying with you tonight.”

  “Nae even asking, eh?” Duncan chuckled as he took her close. “Yer free to stay here, but I’m getting a healer to check ye in the morning before I carry ye to yer room.”

  “Why?” she asked, while relieved.

  “Because yer aunt will come to see ye and she might ken we’re together, but she dinnae ken to see it,” he uttered while stroking her hair.

  Gratified that she was in his arms, Isabella slipped off to sleep. This time, no night terrors came and she woke up hearing the soft thump of his heart under her ear. The audible proof of life inside his body had her smiling and praying that it would stay that way—strong and steady.

  Taking care to stay as still as she could, she reveled in feeling his warm skin and his even breaths. The room was dark but the air was warming and she was trying to delay his promise to get the healer to come and see her. Daringly, she slid her hand down his chest, only to have him grab it.

  “Nice try, love but ye arenae squiggling away from getting checked, and ye are nay ready for intimacy,” Duncan chided. “Now, let me get the woman and then carry ye to yer room.”

  “Blast,” she grumbled.

  His kiss trailed down her hairline to her cheek and then her mouth. “Stop sulking, love.”

  Slipping out of the bed, he went to put on a shirt, wash his face and mouth then was out the doorway. Sagging, Isabella grabbed a pillow and sighed. “I hope this is over soon.”

  * * *

  Duncan took care to avoid Isabella’s room as he knew her aunt was there speaking with her. He had spent a futile day trying to track down who had gone to the stables and nothing had panned out. Even worse, there was no sign of Grant. As they dragged on, he felt it imperative to ask Isabella if she remembered anything from before she had gone riding, but knew that he had to bide his time.

  But supper time was coming and he
was getting exasperated. He had to speak to her and took a tray of broth and warm brown bread up to the room as a way in. He knocked and the door was pulled in by Agnes—who cut her eyes away from him.

  Concerned, he came in and rested the tray on her table. Miss Dellendine closed the bible on her knee and looked calm. Isabella was still sleeping. He slid a stray tendril from her face, and smiled, “Has she woken up?

  “Once,” Miss Dellendine said tracing the cover of her bible. Her eyes were calm but knowing, “She asked for you.”