Chapter Two
“Perhaps angels had no reason to fear hell’s monsters.”
“I’ve got ye, lass. I’ll no’ let ye fall.” And he wouldn’t, even if every wound on his lacerated body opened and flowed with fresh blood, he’d not allow this sweet angel to slip from his hold. A heady scent swirled on the breeze. An intake of breath filled his nostrils with the fragrance of a dozen kinds of flowers and herbs. The enticing ambrosia floated off her hair and skin and filled his mind with images of wild mountain meadows. Impulsively, he pulled her tighter against his chest.
A sharp barking drew his attention up the slope where the dog skittered through the loose underbrush in an attempt to reach his master.
“Stay!” She yelled and thrust up the hand that had gripped the arm he’d latched under her breasts. The dog dropped to its belly, clearly agitated, whining for her to issue a release command.
Angus pulled the woman up to his shoulder. “Can ye grab hold of that next bush?”
Extending her hand, she touched the branches with the tips of her fingers but couldn’t grasp it. Angus dug his heel into the dirt anchoring against a rock just above his right shin and inched them up the hill until the woman firmly gripped onto the next bush. She pulled herself forward as he assisted with a hand to her backside. When he touched her fundament, she immediately tensed.
“My apologies, m’lady. I only mean to lift ye up without causing both of us to fall to our death.” Her derriere, tightly encased in snug fitting trews, molded perfectly against his palm. Even in such a precarious position, his body responded with lustful longing and an immediate swelling between his legs. Ignoring his irreverent response, he gave a good push, and she scrambled past the bush up to the next foothold from where she maneuvered on hands and knees until she reached the dog.
Hanging onto the dog’s collar, she tossed the leash back toward Angus, who had already clambered up to her feet. “Grab on, and we’ll pull you up to us.”
“Nae, m’lady. Use the dog to pull yerself up, I’m right behind ye.”
She hesitated a minute, then lashed the leash to her dog and commanded him to back up. The animal moved at her command until she had her feet under her again. Then she turned to check on his progress.
“I’m coming m’lady, dinnae stop ‘til ye safely reach the top.”
Crawling on hands and knees, ripping open crusted wounds, and causing new scratches and torn nails as he went, he scaled the slope without losing momentum until he reached her position by the twisted juniper where this perilous adventure had begun.
She and the dog snuggled against the tree, feet anchored on a medium-sized rock in front. She extended her hand when he reached her feet. He grabbed on for dear life, not because he needed her assistance, but because he needed to feel the warmth of her flesh. The madness of his situation made him doubt his eyes, ears, even his mind, but her touch assured him she, at least, was not an illusion.
Once he pulled up beside her, he flopped onto his back and closed his eyes, still clinging to her hand. A giggle escaped and then another until the woman beside him held her sides against heaving laughter. Though he found little humor under the circumstance, he couldn’t resist her effusive nature. His laughter rang roughly into the morning air, more the sound of panic than true amusement. Once she calmed, her hand slipped from his. The loss of her touch bereaved him to his very soul.
“You saved my life, I think.” Breathless with a sweet smile on her lips, she continued, “Or maybe we saved each other.”
“Aye, mayhap.” The more she spoke, the more he understood her speech or thought he did. “Though ye’d no’ ha’ been in such difficulties had ye no’ tried to help me. So, I owe ye my sincere apologies and am in yer debt. I am at yer service to command, m’lady.”
With a beguiling tilt to her head, she studied him with an open, curious expression. “You must have recently arrived in the States. Your brogue is quite thick. It’s unlike any I’ve heard at St. Andrews Benevolent Society meetings.”
Other than understanding that she found his language difficult, he hadn’t a clue what she referred to—new to the states—St. Andrews Benevolent Society. He knew the stories about St. Andrew, every Scot knew of him, but what could her words mean?
Before he had a chance to respond, another loud roar sounded overhead. He jumped to his feet unsheathing his dirk from its leather scabbard in one fluid motion. He spun in tight circles, his blade flashing reflected light, ready to defend his angel against the monstrous beast flying above them or any other hellish creature that might emerge. Once again, the monster disappeared into the clouds like the previous ones had, leaving only a soft rumble on the air.
The lady’s sudden hiss and squeak of alarm made him turn in her direction. Her terrified expression and hands raised in defense prompted him to step back, but he didn’t sheathe his weapon. “Dinnae worry, I’ll no’ let them harm ye. I think we must away from this place and the dangers here.”
Obviously reacting to his sudden movement and the lady’s fear, the dog flattened his ears and issued a low, warning growl. Angus moved his hand to the side and reluctantly slipped the dirk back into the leather scabbard strapped there.
He raised his hands in placation. “Dinnae be a’feared m’lady, I only wish to protect ye from these horrid creatures. Do ye ken where we might find shelter?”
She continued to observe him with a wide-eyed stare, perhaps less fearful now that he’d put away his weapon, though he disliked not having it to hand. The dog’s growl snapped her attention to the animal and out of the tense moment. She quietly rebuked the animal, but kept a tight hold on his collar.
Angus reached his hand in her direction, “Please, m’lady, come with me. Let us move away from here to safer shelter.”
She tentatively placed her small hand in his. Once he’d pulled her to her feet, she squared her shoulders, stiffened her spine, and asserted herself rather forcefully.
“You’ll come with me,” she stated firmly, withdrawing her hand from his. “My father will be able to tend your injuries. However, if you display that weapon again, I’ll leave you to find your own way out of here. Do you understand me?”
Angus couldn’t help but smile. This adorable creature possessed fire and strength that belied her delicate feminine appearance, despite wearing bizarre tight-fitting trews that flared below her knee. Above her slim waist, the long sleeves of her blouse billowed in the breeze. Over the blouse, an open-front tan jerkin with strands of fringe that brushed against her thighs drew his eye to firm, long legs. The great flying beast didn’t seem to perturb her as much as she’d reacted to his weapon. Perhaps angels had no reason to fear hell’s monsters.
“Aye, m’lady, I’ll happily join ye and offer my protection.” He nearly laughed. How effective would his protection be in this mad place?
Huge azure eyes with flecks of gold around the pupils sparked with that inner fire he’d just witnessed. Then her hand extended toward him. “What’s your name?”
Angus looked at the hand angled as a man might extend his hand in greeting. He took her fingertips between his, turned her palm down, bowed, and lightly brushed his lips across her knuckles, “Angus Brian Cameron, at your service m’lady.” Even her hand smelled like a field of wild flowers.
“Angus. You don’t look like an Angus to me. I’ll call you Brian if you don’t mind, and enough of the m’lady business. My name is Gillian Adair, but my family and close friends call me Angel. Perhaps you’ve heard my name before?
Her direct and informal address shocked him, but everything he’d seen and experienced since awakening had completely bewildered him. Angus decided to relinquish all propriety in hopes of a speedy departure. He crooked his arm in a courteous manner, the better to keep her tucked close in case they encountered other monsters or miscreants.
The blank expression on her face had him questioning whether he had breached correct protocol for accompanying a young unescorted female in this bizarre place. Her lack of companion also made no sense. Women did not travel unaccompanied. Of course, she had her dog, but still, from what he’d witnessed thus far, this place was not safe for man or beast and posed considerable danger for a female dressed like a lad wondering the woods with only her dog as protection.
She didn’t take his arm, but stepped ahead of him, commanded her dog to heal, and said, “Follow me.” She led him to the flat dirt and gravel area where the horseless carriages had arrived earlier. At the far end sat a slightly battered, low-slung, pale-gold carriage. On a road just beyond the vehicle, other loud carriages flew swiftly by without the aid of horses or other animals. Angus rolled his shoulders to release terror-induced tension from his neck and back.
Angel opened the door on the left side, moved the seat forward, and commanded Simon to enter. Then she slid into the front seat. He stood beside her door, uncertain whether she intended to leave him.
“Well, get in.” she motioned to the seat beside her.
When he reached the other side of the carriage, he assessed what appeared to be a silver handle. She clucked her tongue at him, reached across the seat, and opened the door.
“At the very least, I’ll expect you to clean the dirt from my car once my father has tended your injuries.” She inserted an odd little key into a silver disk on a panel in front of her, and the carriage rumbled in response.