Highlander's Captive (19 page)

Read Highlander's Captive Online

Authors: Donna Fletcher

Tags: #Historical Romance, #highlander

Before she could respond and let him know she felt the same and was wishing for time alone with him, Cree spoke.

“I have had enough waiting. I am taking a contingent of men and going to speak with Owen. Torr will accompany me and Sloan will remain behind. I hope to be back tonight, but we may not return until tomorrow. You two,” — Cree pointed to his wife and sister— “are not to go off alone while we are gone. Do I make myself clear?”

Dawn gestured to her husband.

Cree yanked her off the bench and into his arms. “I will miss you too, but do not think you are going to ignore my orders. Understand?”

Torr walked a few feet away with Wintra as Cree continued talking with Dawn.

“Cree is right about this. He cannot wait to see what Kellmara intends, or Owen for that matter. He must see to this, and I must go with him since it concerns my wife.”

“You could be in danger as well,” she reminded and the thought that she could lose him overwhelmed her with grief. “I do not want to lose you. I love you.”

“You sound and look as if you have just realized that,” he said resting a gentle hand to her cheek.

“It is not that I have only realized that I love you since love struck me so hard and fast, and it is not going away—ever. But until this very moment, I did not realize what tremendous heartache I would suffer if I lost you.” She tried to laugh, though it sounded more like a croak. “No one would love me as unconditionally as you do. Besides, I could never love anyone as much as I love you.”

“Good, for I feel the same about you,” Torr said and slipped his hand around the back of her neck and with a gentle yank had her mouth against his in an instant. They tasted of each other like two hungry children receiving a long awaited treat and when he reluctantly brought the kiss to an end, he rested his brow to hers, and said, “I will never grow tired of the taste of you.”

“Time to go,” Cree shouted.

With another quick kiss to Wintra, Torr turned and joined Cree as he headed out of the Great Hall.

Wintra did not like how empty she felt with each step Torr took away from her and when the door closed behind him, she felt her legs grow weak. She had not known that love could be so wonderful, yet so painful at the same time. And she silently prayed for his safe return, for she knew she would not want to live life without him.

Chapter Twenty-four
 

Cree despised Owen and he wanted nothing more than to snap the irritating man’s neck and be done with him. But until he could determine what Owen was up to, he would have to wait. Eventually though, Owen would suffer a fate of his own making.

“Why would the Earl of Kellmara send so many of his warriors ahead of his arrival if it was only a friendly visit?” Torr asked as he and Cree were escorted into camp by several Kellmara warriors.

As soon as Cree and his contingent of twenty warriors rode off Carrick land, Kellmara’s warriors swooped around them. The leader cordially, though firmly, offered to escort them to camp.

Cree kept his temper in firm control. He was furious that Kellmara could think that he could camp just a step beyond Cree’s borders and that he would sit there and do nothing about it. But Kellmara had expressed no interest in doing Cree harm, so Cree could do nothing but wait on the man’s arrival. He could, however, question Owen.

Cree and Torr both took note of how well organized the campsite appeared, but then Kellmara was known for his warrior skills. And as Cree had learned, being a good warrior was not only about the battle. It was also about keeping your men organized and well trained, and from what Cree could see, Kellmara did just that.

That was why it was easy to see that Owen hadn’t exactly blended well with the Kellmara troops. His campsite was shoddy in comparison as were his men.

Torr voiced Cree’s thoughts. “It seems that Owen sits on the outskirts of the Kellmara camp. Not exactly welcomed or accepted.”

“What then is Owen doing with them?” Cree asked.

Torr wondered the same himself. “Owen seems tolerated by the Kellmara warriors, but why?”

“There can be only one answer to that—need,” Cree said. “Owen knows or has something they need. And it has to do with my sister.”

“You have no idea of what it could be?”

“None,” Cree said frustration evident in his curt reply.

“I dislike going into a fight blind,” Torr said. “It leaves one too vulnerable.”

“That is why I sent some of my warriors to gather what information they can. And why we are here to talk with Owen.”

“No one is taking my wife from me,” Torr reminded adamantly.

“So you have said often.”

“And I will continue to say it, shout it if I must, do whatever it takes to make anyone and everyone realize it,” Torr said with resolve.

“Let us see if Owen is going to need reminding of that,” Cree said as the Kellmara warriors drifted off, after reaching Owen’s campsite.

Cree and Torr dismounted and approached Owen who stood by a campfire that looked as if it was in dire need of tending. Two of Owen’s warriors stood guard directly behind him, though neither looked intimidating.

“What do you want of me?” Owen demanded.

Cree thought the man foolish before, but even more so now for being under the assumption that he was well protected with the impressive presence of Kellmara warriors. The fool did not realize that the Kellmara men cared naught what happened to him. And they had proved that to Cree when they had drifted off once they neared Owen’s camp. It was almost as if they announced aloud to do as you will, we will not stop you.

Torr answered. “What we want you are not capable of giving—the truth.”

“The truth?” Owen laughed. “You do not know the truth, but you will soon enough, and I shall be rewarded.”

“For being a fool?” Torr asked.

Owen’s nostril’s flared and his eyes glared with anger at Torr. “We will see who the fool is.”

“Why did you send two of your men to abduct my sister?” Cree said as he took a quick step toward Owen.

Not only did Owen jump back, but the two men did as well.

“I did no such thing,” Owen claimed. “If any of my men did that, then they did so of their own accord. Return them to me and I shall punish them.”

“Why would they do such a thing on their own?” Torr challenged.

“The McBride Clan is mostly comprised of farmers and a few craftsmen. They require nothing more than a simple, boring life. The poor simpletons probably thought that if they brought Wintra here that all would be ended and we then could return home.”

“So you deny any part in the attempted abductions?” Torr asked.

“Of course, I do,” he snapped. “I would not be so foolish as to send a farmer to do a warrior’s job.”

“You were foolish enough to think you could take my wife from me,” Torr spat. “Are you still foolish enough to think that?”

“It will not be me who takes Wintra from you, though it will be me who is there to claim her when she is taken from you.”

He sounded much too confident to Torr’s liking. “What game do you play?”

“A game in which I will be the victor,” Owen sneered.

Cree had his hand around Owen’s neck before he realized what had happened. “Leave us,” Cree ordered with such force at the two guards that they fell over each other as they hurried to obey.

Owen clawed at Cree’s hands to no avail.

“Fight me and I’ll tighten my hold,” Cree snapped and squeezed tighter.

Owen immediately stilled.

“I have had enough of your foolish games. You will tell me what I want to know or suffer the consequences.” Cree squeezed at his neck tighter in warning.

Owen nodded as he struggled to breathe.

Cree loosened his hold just enough so that Owen could answer him. “You sent for Kellmara?”

“No, he was already on his way.”

“Why?”

“I cannot say. He has sworn me to secrecy. It is for him to tell, not me.”

“It has to do with Wintra?”

Owen nodded.

“What is your connection to Kellmara?” Cree demanded.

“I provided information he had been searching for.”

“How did you come by this information?”

“Through the previous laird of the Clan McBride,” Owen said coughing to take another labored breath.

Cree released Owen, giving him a shove away from him that sent him stumbling as he walked over to Torr.

“Why not just beat the information out of him?” Torr asked annoyed. This was about his wife and he wanted all the information right now at this moment. He did not want to wait another minute.

“Look around you,” Cree whispered. “Kellmara’s men stand close and listen. They would stop him from saying anything their chieftain does not want known.”

Torr turned away, running a hand through his hair as if frustrated and gave a quick glance around. Cree was right. The warriors had moved closer and made no attempt to hide their presence or that they listened most curiously.

Cree turned back to Owen who had put more distance between them and with a calm that belied his words said, “When this is done, your lands will be mine.”

Owen blanched, though squared his shoulders. “When this is done I will not only hold more land, I will hold a title just like you.”

Cree took a quick step forward once more and Owen scrambled back out of reach.

“When this is done,” Cree said in a harsh whisper, “I will see you dead. You have my word on it.” Cree turned and mounted his stallion.

“And I will be the one who kills him,” Torr said with a look in his eye that dared Cree to argue with him after mounting his horse.

The two turned and rode off without another word. This time the Kellmara warriors did not escort them out of camp, though they kept steady eyes on them.

Cree’s men waited for him on the edge of the camp, alert and ready for anything. The twenty men were not enough to battle the large contingent of Kellmara warriors, but add the fifty that surrounded the camp and the fact that one of Cree’s warriors were worth two of any other warrior and that meant the Kellmara warriors were outnumbered.

“Do you think Owen has been promised land and a title or is it his own foolishness that has him believing such nonsense?” Torr said.

“I think that depends on the information he has and how badly someone wants it. And it would seem that the Earl of Kellmara wants it badly.”

Torr did not like the feeling that caught at his gut. The King had decreed his marriage to Wintra and only the King could see it undone. So there was nothing for him to worry about, or was there?

Chapter Twenty-five
 

Wintra and Dawn stood on the keep steps looking out over the village. It was late afternoon, the sky was gray, the air crisp, and light flurries fell. Villagers scurried about busy with their chores and daily routines. All seemed well except that Cree and Torr were two days late in returning home. No message had been received concerning their delay, and the two women were worried.

Sloan did not seem concerned, though he had told them that if Cree had not returned by tomorrow, he would send men to see what had caused their delay.

Wintra tried to convince herself that Torr and her brother were fine that they would return home soon and all would be well, yet nagging doubt would not let go of her. What if the Earl of Kellmara had attacked Cree and his troop and left them for dead? What if at this very moment Torr lay bleeding and helpless somewhere? Endless worries had filled her head and upset her stomach to the point where she could not eat.

Wintra turned her head to look at Dawn when she felt her hand grasp her arm. Dawn was pointing down the length of the village and up toward the rise. Wintra’s stomach tightened so badly that she thought she would double over. Was that Torr and Cree coming over the rise? She prayed to the heavens and all who would listen to please let it be so.

Dawn held her arm firm, stopping her from rushing off the steps and through the village to greet them. She shook her head at Wintra when she tried to yank her arm away and gestured with her one hand.

Try as she might, Wintra could not understand what Dawn was saying. She was grateful when Old Mary suddenly appeared and quickly interpreted.

“It would not be proper for either of you to run and greet the men you love. You must not let others see that you worried over them, for it would cause others in the village to do the same. You must stay strong and remain here on the steps to demonstrate the confidence you have in your men.”

Wintra nodded, though wished she could join the village women who ran to greet their men without hesitation. She grew impatient as Cree and Torr rode at a leisurely pace through the village, the villagers crying out hardy welcomes that they had returned home safely. She understood then, watching the scene unfold in front of her, how important their entrance to the village was. The obvious joy and pride on the villagers’ faces for the returning warriors left them feeling safe and protected.

Dawn finally let go of Wintra’s hand and walked down the steps, Wintra hurrying alongside her. They reached the bottom as Cree and Torr brought their horses to a halt a short distance from them.

Cree dismounted and went straight to his wife, grabbed her around the waist and yanked her up against him and kissed her as if he had not seen her in forever.

Wintra launched herself at Torr, who braced for the impact, catching her petite body in his strong arms and hauling her up against him and kissed her to show her just how much he had truly missed her.

He’s home. He’s safe. He’s mine. I love him.
The litany rang repeatedly in her head and she was forever grateful, for it renewed, over and over, what she needed to hear, know, feel.

“Inside,” Cree ordered, “the weather grows colder and I grow hungry.” He pressed his mouth close to Dawn’s ear. “For more than food.”

She smiled, patted her chest, and nodded.

Torr held Wintra back for a moment as Cree and Dawn hurried into the keep.

“I have missed you more than I can express,” Torr said, “though I intend to show you how much, later.”

“And I shall do the same,” she said, “but first for nourishment to sustain us for the long night ahead.”

Torr laughed and ran up the steps and into the keep with Wintra close at his side.

Food aplenty was placed on the table as well as drink. Tankards were filled and plates piled high, and the two women sat close to their husbands as if by doing so they could keep them there.

Sloan joined them after seeing to the returning men and raised a tankard to their safe return. The servants even joined in with a cheer.

Cree finally spoke. “We were delayed because one of the warriors sent to see what he could find out about Kellmara met up with us on the way home. He insisted that I see for myself what he had seen, for he did not quite believe his own eyes.”

Wintra hooked her arm through Torr’s and snuggled closer to him. She worried over what she was about to hear, since in some way it would probably affect her.

“An emissary of the King waits at a campsite for Kellmara to arrive.”

“Why would an emissary from the King be with Kellmara?” Sloan asked.

“I do not know,” Cree said, “but we will find out soon. Kellmara is not far off. He should arrive by nightfall or morning.”

Before anyone could comment, the bell tolled announcing an approaching troop.

Sloan stood. “It appears Douglas Hawthorne, Earl of Kellmara was anxious to get here as soon as possible. I will ride out with the warriors to greet them and escort them to the village.”

Torr stood. “And enough time to refresh before meeting Kellmara.” He reached his hand out to Wintra to join him.

Cree nodded as he watched his sister hurry out of the keep with her husband. And a thought struck him. “It is a good hour or more before the troop reaches the rise. I should freshen myself and change into clean garments as well.”

Dawn smiled and gestured.

Cree grinned. “I was hoping you would want to help me.” He helped her off the bench, his hand suddenly going to her stomach. “You have rounded more in the short time since I’ve been gone. You and the babe are well?”

She nodded and tugged his hand to hurry him along.

He stubbornly refused to move when they reached the bottom of the steps. “You should wait down here.”

She planted her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him.

“Do not look at me like that. I have an aching need and damn if I do not want to pound the hell out of you. And that will not do now that you grow round with my child.”

She could see he was adamant about it, but she had missed him terribly and wanted an intimate moment with him whatever way she could get it. But how to convince him? The thought came easily and with his back to those left in the Great Hall, she stepped in front of him confident that no one would be able to see what she was about to do. Her one hand quickly slipped under the new plaid, he had just begun wearing, to grab hold of him and she raised her other hand up to her mouth and inserted one finger in it, then eased it out slowly, and then repeated the gesture over and over as she tugged on him, growing him ever harder.

“Damn it, woman,” he seethed through gritted teeth.

She let her hand drop away from her mouth and her tongue slipped out to slowly circle her lips as if showing how much she looked forward to tasting him.

He growled like an angry beast, scooped her up, and took the stone steps two at a time.

~~~

 

Torr closed the cottage door behind him and held his hand out to Wintra. “Come here.”

She drifted into his arms with a smile.

“I want you to know that I will let no one take you from me,” he said with such adamant conviction that it sent a shiver through her and faded her smile.

“Do you believe someone will try?” she asked, the thought having gone through her mind as well.

“I have no knowledge that someone will, though it troubles me that Kellmara joins forces with Owen. And Owen seems to believe that he has information that Kellmara wants and I think it concerns you.”

Wintra shook her head. “What information can Owen possibly have about me? And why would it concern Kellmara?”

“All good questions which I assume will be answered when Kellmara arrives.” He gave her a kiss, lingering a bit longer than he intended. Now was not the time to think of making love to her, but then there was not a time he did not think of making love to her.

Being prudent at what would happen if he remained close to her, he eased her away from him. “I need to wash up a bit and change my shirt.”

Wintra was disappointed that he let her go. She loved being in his arms. They were so warm and comforting. And then there was the scent of him, pungent pine and earth mixed with his own muskiness. It always managed to spark her passion.

She shook the thoughts away, wishing they could make love, but they did not have enough time. She saw to getting a bucket and scooping up snow, then placed it close to the hearth for the snow to melt fast so that Torr could wash.

She watched as he stripped off his shirt and tossed it to the table. She took it to hang on the peg and his scents, so potent on it, drifted up to sting her nostrils and invade her senses. She hurried to hang it on the peg and could not stop herself from burying her face in it for a moment and breathing deeply.

With reluctance, she turned away from it to see Torr staring at her strangely. She said what she felt. “I love the scent of you.”

He warned himself to stay where he was, to not go any closer to her or he would surely surrender to his growing need and damn if that need wasn’t growing harder by the moment.

Wintra had much yet to learn about making love and passion and all that went with it, but instinct played a big part in it all and when she caught that hungry look in his eyes, she knew exactly what her husband was thinking.

She took a step toward him.

“Don’t,” he warned. “I will not be able to keep my hands off you.”

She took slow steps toward him. “I don’t want you to.”

“Wintra, you will obey me on this,” he chided.

“Do you truly want me to?”

Two more steps and she would be on top of him and by then it would be too late. But then it was already too late.

Torr reached out and snatched her hand, yanking her against him. His kiss was hungry, and she fed it. It wasn’t long before he pulled his mouth away, hoisted her up on the table, shoved her dress up, spread her legs and ripped his plaid off to give him room to watch as he plunged in and out of her.

She braced her hands on the table to balance herself and closed her eyes for a moment, relishing every potent poke. Then she lowered her head curious to see for herself and her eyes widened as she watched the thick size of him slip in and out of her with ease, and she groaned, “I am going to come.”

“More than once,” he urged and took her even harder.

She exploded with such a hard climax that she screamed out his name, and it heightened his own passion that was at its peak and about to burst. But he wanted her to come again and so he kept up the maddening tempo, straining to contain himself for just a moment more.

Wintra thought her heart would burst from her chest as her desire rose once again and when he grabbed hold of her backside and forced her harder against him again and again, she burst in another explosive climax.

Torr joined her, feeling as if his climax would never end and loving and savoring every minute of it. When he finally stilled, he rested his brow to hers, though did not pull out of her. He was content right where he was and intended to remain there for a bit longer.

Wintra felt the same, for on a labored breath she said, “Do not pull out of me.”

“I am staying right where I am.”

“Good, for that is right where you belong.”

They stayed that way, not moving an inch. The hearth flames toasted Torr’s bare backside and Wintra’s legs, making them even more content to remain as they were.

“If there were time, I would take you to our bed and keep you there the rest of the day and night.”

She smiled. “And I would happily remain there with you.”

He reluctantly pulled away from her and carefully lowered her dress and lifted her off the table to place her gently on her feet before he turned away from her. “I need to wash and be ready for Kellmara.”

At that moment she had a profound dislike for the man. Why did he have to arrive at the keep now? And what did he want from her? She tried to tell herself that it did not matter. She was Torr’s wife and nothing could change that. Then why was she so disturbed by his arrival?

“Do not worry,” Torr said, watching her pace in front of the door. “All will be well.”

She prayed his words were true.

The sudden toll of the bell letting everyone know the approaching troop had reached the rise startled them both as did the pounding on the door.

“Your presence is requested at the keep immediately,” a voice shouted.

“We will be right there,” Torr called out and turned to Wintra. “Let us go get this over so that we may return here and enjoy the night together.”

“I will be counting the minutes until we are alone,” she said eagerly and took hold of his hand.

They left the cottage and she hurried along with Torr into the Great Hall to join her brother and Dawn at the dais to greet the man who had journeyed here in regards to her. Her stomach roiled with worry, and she wished this day was over and that she was in bed with her husband making love. She chased the thought away. She had to keep her mind clear and focused. She had to know what the Earl of Kellmara wanted with her.

“You are to remain seated until I summon you,” Torr said to Wintra and she scowled. He could not help but grin. “You are almost as good as your brother with that scowl, though if you show it too often you will be cursed with a bevy of wrinkles.”

She poked him in the ribs, her finger hitting nothing but hard muscle. “Then do not make me scowl.”

“That’s right, it is your fault my sister scowls. She never scowled before,” Cree said with a levity that few got to see.

“My brother is right,” Wintra said seeing for the first time in many years the brother who had once teased and made her laugh.

“Right or not, I am your husband now and you will obey me,” Torr said with a smile, but all who heard knew that it was a reminder that Wintra was his and no one answered for her but him. “Cree and I shall wait in front of the dais to greet the Earl of Kellmara.”

Cree nodded letting Torr know he understood, though his scowl let him know that he was appeasing Torr.

Other books

Fen by Daisy Johnson
Without Options by Trevor Scott
Cabin Fever by Sanders, Janet
Slightly Tempted by Mary Balogh
Shrine to Murder by Roger Silverwood
Sky Song: Overture by Meg Merriet
Pain & Wastings by Carrie Mac