Six
As the first light of morning broke and the mist that covered the land started to dissipate, Cameron rode between Lachlan and Iain as they left the woods and headed toward Dunvegan Castle. The night had been long and full of tension as they had combed the woods for the invader, but to no avail. Between himself and two hundred other MacLeod warriors, they had been unable to find a trace of the man or the direction in which he may have gone. Whoever had shot the arrows at him and Serene was skilled at disappearing.
Steering Winthrop toward the courtyard, which had just come into view, Cameron glanced at Iain. They’d tracked in almost complete silence so as not to give away their position, but now Cameron felt he could talk. “Whoever it is out there,” he said, glancing back toward the woods they had just left, “is intent on killing Serene. They were shooting at her even when I was nae anywhere near her, and when the man had the chance to kill me, he did nae take it. Instead, he fled.”
Lachlan’s eyes narrowed. “Why did the attacker ever gain an opportunity to kill ye?”
Cameron heated with embarrassment at the question. His jaw twitched as he opened his mouth to answer honestly. “I turned my back to him for one moment.”
“Why the devil did ye do that?” Iain roared.
“Brother,” Lachlan said, in a stern tone, “ye ken better than that. Ye are smarter than such folly and well versed on the ways of fighting.”
Cameron nodded, unable to argue with his brothers or soothe their anger, which came, he understood, from concern. “I needed to see that she was still safe. I’d left her below in a cave, thinking to keep her from harm. I told her nae to move…” He let his words trail off at the mixed looks of incredulity and surprising understanding on his brothers’ faces.
“They never stay,” Iain said with a sigh. “At least Marion never stays when I tell her to.”
“Bridgette dunnae ever stay, either,” Lachlan added, a frown furrowing his brow.
Cameron’s brothers exchanged a long look, then both focused their steely gazes on him. “Strong women dunnae ever remain, Brother,” Iain said as Lachlan nodded his agreement.
“I would have looked, too,” Lachlan said, “if I feared for Bridgette’s safety. I may have been just as reckless.”
Cameron felt his lips part on his brother’s astonishing admission.
Iain scowled. “I would have seen that Marion was safe by keeping one eye on my enemy and turning one toward her.”
“That would be quite the trick,” Lachlan drawled.
“I’m laird,” Iain said in a blunt tone. “I can do anything I say. That is but one benefit of being laird. Ye dunnae get to question me,” he added with a pointed look at Lachlan. Then he gave the same look to Cameron. “It dunnae bode well, considering Eolande’s prophecy, that ye compromised yer own safety for a lass that dunnae mean a thing to ye. Ye just met her.”
Iain’s words were all true, but his saying them irritated Cameron, nonetheless. “Ye married yer wife after kenning her for less than a day,” he growled.
Iain’s faced darkened, showing a bit of the temper he usually kept so well restrained. “Ye ken well that I married her by edict of her king and mine.”
“I ken it,” Cameron said slowly, “but nary a king ordered ye to care for her as quickly as ye did. It just was in ye.”
Iain’s jaw fell open. After a breath, he snapped it shut, grunted, and said, “Are ye telling me—”
“Us,” Lachlan corrected.
Iain flicked his gaze to Lachlan before settling it on Cameron once more. “Are ye telling us ye care for the lass?”
“Nay,” he answered immediately. “Nae in the way the two of ye care for Bridgette and Marion, but I feel—” What did he feel? As they drew to the entry of the courtyard, he paused his destrier while he struggled to find the words to describe what he himself did not understand.
A crowd was gathered at the entry to greet them, and Serene stood off to the side, alone. She had on the same gown she had worn the previous day when she had come to talk to him, the one that showed too much of her enticing breasts. It heated him to recall just how very well he could see the rounded mounds and her hard nubs straining against the wet, gossamer material. Desire roiled through him in unstoppable waves. His muscles tightened with blossoming, aching need. He wanted her. He barely knew her, but it didn’t matter. He wanted her like he’d never wanted another.
Her gaze locked on his, and relief swept across her face as she picked up her skirts, called his name, and raced toward him, heedless of the stares she was drawing.
“Bound,” he finally said to Iain and Lachlan. The husky word held a ring of finality that worried him. It felt unstoppable, as if despite whatever he did, he would still fall under her spell. “Bound,” he said again at his brothers’ puzzled looks. “To her, I feel bound.”
She wasn’t quite sure what response she expected from Cameron, but dismounting his horse, taking her by the hand, and leading her away from his brothers and the many warriors who had just come up behind them took her by complete surprise. Yet, she did not worry, nor feel she needed to question or fight him. He gave her a look to calm her, then his fingers curled firmly around hers, causing her to suck in a sharp breath. Desire jolted through her, sparking a fire in her veins.
It was only when she realized he was leading her back to the seagate stairs, toward the shore where they had been attacked, that she hesitated. “Is it safe?”
“Aye,” he assured her with such confidence that she did not doubt him. He paused on the steps and turned to her, his vibrant gaze holding her captive. “Iain tripled the watchtower guards and set men to defend the woods in sections, along with the entire perimeter of the castle and land surrounding the loch. “Nae a single enemy will get through this day again.”
She exhaled a relieved breath. “What of all the other days? The men kinnae be kept away from their families day after day.”
“They are warriors, and they will do as commanded to keep ye safe. Now you, however…” His eyes narrowed. “I told ye nae to leave the cave, and ye vowed ye would nae. Does yer vow nae mean a thing?”
Her first instinct was to be angry, but she quickly realized he was worried for her and that realization stole her anger. “Aye. It means something,” she growled. “If ye intend to yell at me, though, I prefer ye do it where yer entire clan kinnae hear ye. Nae anyone but Marion likes me, and I’m nae sure she truly likes me, either. I fear it’s more that the lady is just too nice to be cruel to anyone, even someone suspected of killing the king’s mistress.”
Cameron gave her a pensive look, and she suspected he was making his mind up what to do. When he finally turned toward the loch again, took her hand, and continued down the stairs, she exhaled. At least the entire MacLeod clan would not hear him yelling at her.
Once they reached the shore, he led her to some rocks and guided her gently down, then sat beside her. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees, and she could not help but notice how the muscles of his back and arms coiled, as if prepared to fight.
After a long silent spell, he faced her, yet did not sit up. His golden hair just touched his right shoulder as he tilted his strong face to her. She didn’t think there was likely a more compelling warrior on the Isle of Skye. “Do ye have a lass?” she blurted. She slapped her hand over her mouth in embarrassment.
When he frowned at her, she forced her hand down and mumbled, “I’m sorry. I dunnae ken why I asked that. It’s nae any of my concern. I dunnae ken what is the matter with me. Ye affect me oddly. I cannot say for certain why, though, since I kinnae remember my past.” She wrinkled her nose at how greatly she had managed to mess up the apology and make herself look like a fool.
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, making her heart squeeze. “I dunnae claim a lass as my own.” The smile that had been curling his lips disappeared abruptly. “I wonder if a man has a claim on ye.”
The displeasure that the thought brought to him was apparent in the tightening of his jaw and his hard, clipped words. She was startled by the jolt of pleasure his jealousy gave her. She may not know what had been in her mind in the past, but right now, Cameron MacLeod possessed her thoughts.
“I dunnae feel claimed,” she mumbled, heat burning her cheeks. “I feel adrift, except when I am near ye. I think it must be because my only memories are of ye and the woman with the dark hair. Who is she? Is she someone special to ye? Did I meet her?”
He let out a jagged sigh, then shoved his hands through his hair before cradling his head between his palms. “She’s a seer, and nay, ye did nae meet her, as far as I ken.” She watched as his fingers dug into his thick locks. Something was weighing very heavy on his mind. Hesitantly, she touched a hand to his bare, muscled shoulder. He flinched, and a low growl sounded from him, but he did not move her hand away, nor did she. The contact with his warm skin made her feel safe.
“This—” He waved a hand between her and himself but did not raise his head. “Ye, we”—another growl came from him, but this one was filled with frustration—“our circumstances are much more confusing than I anticipated.”
“Our circumstances?” she asked, fascinated by the vein that visibly pulsed at his left temple.
He inhaled a long breath, making the slabs of muscle on his back ripple. “Someone is trying to kill ye.”
“Aye,” she replied, a hard knot forming in her chest. “I still dunnae ken what ye mean by our circumstances, though.”
His hands slid through his hair to the back of his neck. He linked his fingers together, lifting his head to look straight ahead. “Ye risked yer life leaving the shelter of the rock to aid me.” His head whipped in her direction, eyes so bright that she sucked in a sharp breath. “Why?” he demanded, the word harsh and aching. “Why would ye risk yer life to help a stranger? Especially one who ye ken suspected ye to be guilty of murder?”
Why? It was a good question, and not one she had paused to ask herself yet. Her hand fluttered to her hair, catching a silky strand, and winding it around her finger. The action soothed her and seemed to help her think. “Suspected?” she asked, curious if he no longer thought her a part of the plot to kill Katherine and wishing to gain time to give him an answer to his question.
He nodded. “Aye. I kinnae make sense of why someone would be trying to kill ye if ye are working with them.”
“Perchance they want to silence me,” she said in a hushed tone, voicing her fear.
“Perchance, but my gut tells me nay, so unless I discover otherwise, ye are nae my enemy. Now, do ye intend to tell me why ye risked yer life for me?”
She shifted, assessed her heart and her mind. “I kinnae say for certain, except I…I feel as if our paths are somehow intertwined.”
Tension crossed his face, and then a look of understanding filled his eyes. She exhaled a breath she had not even realized she had been holding. “Do ye—do ye feel so, as well?”
His mouth twisted as if he wanted to deny it, but he nodded, shoulders sagging. “I do.”
It seemed to her there was more there he wanted to say, but when he remained silent, she spoke. “Ye sound as if that is the worst thing in the world,” she said in as light a voice as she could muster when her feelings had been trampled upon.
He stood swiftly. “I fear it may well be,” he replied, looked as if he might say more, but he clenched his teeth and abruptly turned away.