The Bruised Thistle (The Order of the Scottish Thistle) (14 page)

His gaze slid up her body. When she met his eyes, blatant lust emanated from their dark depths. Her breath caught. She did not know how to react. The look made her feel soiled, and she tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip.

“I only want to protect you.” Malcolm spoke in a whisper, his mouth a hair’s breadth from her face. “Will you let me do that, Iseabail?” He tipped his head toward her, his lips barely grazing her cheek. “Will you?”

The door bursting open effectively ended the uncomfortable episode. Malcolm was hard-pressed to hide his irritation. His lips tightened into a thin, angry line.

“Excuse me, sir. Phillip has returned with information for you.”

“Thank you.” Malcolm’s gaze never strayed from Iseabail. Long seconds passed. When the waiting man shifted behind him, Malcolm rounded on him in frustration. “You may go.”

When he looked back at Iseabail, he implored her with his eyes, all innocence. “Wait for me, Iseabail. We will find Calum together. Grant me that boon? I will be just a minute.”

She acquiesced with a small nod.

He smiled and took his leave.

Her heart pounded. She took a deep, shaky breath to steady her nerves. Malcolm was a dangerous man in many ways.

Hearing the men leave the hall, she opened the door. She sat down on the bench that Seumas had occupied and considered what she should do. Trust Malcolm and wait for him to help her find Calum or… He said Calum. He said they would look for
Calum
together. Iseabail nearly knocked the bench over in her haste to reach the stairs.

He knows Calum is my brother. How does he know?

“Iseabail! Where are you going?” Two paces from the stairs, Iseabail froze. Malcolm closed the distance between them. “Let us look for Seumas.”

Iseabail obediently placed her hand on his extended arm, allowing him to lead her from the Hall. Her heart beat violently. She had to get away from Malcolm. The long hallway shone with candles every few feet. Several of the
solid wood doors were closed, but he led her to one that stood slightly ajar.

Books lined the far wall and a massive oak desk filled the space in front of her. When she turned toward the fireplace, her agonized scream rent the small space. She rushed to the crumpled form of Calum, who lay curled like a baby in front of the fire.

“
Calum
, what has happened?” She dropped beside him, heedless of the blood that pooled beneath her knees, soaking into her gown. “Calum…can you hear me?” She dragged up his tiny, limp body and crushed it to her bosom. Great sobs racked her body. “Nay, nay, Calum. Hear me, I beg of you.”

Malcolm knelt alongside her and placed an arm around her trembling shoulders. His eyes showed concern. He put his hand to the side of Calum’s neck. “Iseabail. He is gone.”

His words pierced her heart.

“
Nay!
Nay.” She looked up at Malcolm. Her heart squeezed in her chest. Her life ripped out of her. “
Nay.
You are wrong.”

Gently, Malcolm took the child into his arms with Iseabail still clinging, sobbing his name. He laid Calum’s body on the couch opposite the fireplace, careful not to move him any more than necessary.

The blond man appeared in the door. “M’lord, what has happened?”

Iseabail heard it all as if through a fog. Orders shouted, people dispersed, explanations given…all unreal except that her little brother was no longer with her. She was completely alone. She no longer had his guidance. He was gone. She rested her head against his quiet chest. The sobs came again, and she found no comfort from those around her. No words that touched the void within her, no words to bring her back from the depths of despair.

“You cannot find him?” Malcolm spoke loudly. “Have you searched everywhere?”

“Sir?” A familiar voice seeped into her nothingness...something in the tone…and Iseabail pushed through to hear it.

“Where did you find this?” Malcolm’s voice was brisk.

Iseabail picked her head up. There was a silver-pommeled dagger in his hand, and the blond man pointed to where Calum’s body had been found. “In front of the fireplace, sir.”

She heard nothing more, but her sight sharpened acutely. She stood beside her dead brother’s body and looked at the dagger in Malcolm’s hand. Her mind rejected what she saw. Her body shook with fury. “Nay, Malcolm—that is Seumas’s dagger!”

“Are you sure, Iseabail? You want to be sure. It is the weapon that killed the boy.”

With her mind’s eye, she saw Seumas standing over her, clutching the same leather-wrapped handle—marked by her assailant’s blood. She could see it clearly as he later placed it on the chest in his chamber. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. “I am sure.”

“Seumas is missing.”

Trust no one.

“I fear for your safety,” Malcolm said. “Ready our horses, Phillip. I must get her to safety, now…Go! Iseabail?” Malcolm’s hand was on her arm, but Iseabail could not feel it. She looked into his face—his mouth moved—his eyes implored her, but there was no sound. She looked down into the face of her sweet little brother. Calum was always such a good little baby. They were afraid he would not survive when he was born. He was always very mature, always aware of things others did not notice. She needed his help.

Should I trust Seumas?

He could not tell her now but, too late, she knew. The answer was no.

Iseabail could feel the strong grip on her arm, pulling her, and Calum got further and further away. She tried to fight it. She could not understand what was being said then she was in the hall, and they were urging her out the door.

The cold air against her face and being tossed up onto the horse finally brought her out of her stupor. Malcolm came up behind her, his arms supporting her on either side. He would not let her fall. They were quickly led out the gate. The speed felt good.

Aye, Malcolm, take me away from this.
I need to get away.

Iseabail awoke lying on the hard ground, covered with a heavy, wool blanket, unsure how much time had passed since fleeing the castle. The lapping of a river against its banks and the birds chirping in the trees around her almost soothed her.

“Where am I?” She yawned and stretched her arms.

Malcolm, quickly beside her, searched her face and frowned with concern. “Are you not well?” He helped her to a sitting position.

His gentleness reminded her of the conversation in the hall.
I need to protect her at any cost
, he had said.

“You are so cold.” He wrapped the blanket more tightly around her. “How are you feeling?”

Iseabail closed her eyes. She could not remember why she was with Malcolm, but she remembered his kiss. Her fingertips went to her lips. When had that happened? The memories flooded back, and her eyes flew open.

She grabbed the front of his tunic. “Malcolm, tell me Calum is not dead. Please…
Please
.”

The pained look in his eyes told her what he could not put into words. Her little brother was gone. Seumas had killed him. She loosened her grip and looked away.

“My dear, I tried to warn you about Seumas.” His voice was quiet.

The conversation she had overhead...the man asking Malcolm if she had believed him…and saying that she was not safe. Was it true then? Was Seumas not to be trusted?

“Tell me what you know about him.” Iseabail clutched Malcolm’s arm in a death grip.

He pried her fingers off him, kneading them as he spoke. “There was a woman murdered several months ago.”

Iseabail’s heart jumped into her throat, and her hand went to her mouth.

“It took a while for them to put together what had happened.” Malcolm frowned as he spoke. His eyes held hers as if to read her reaction. “She was a harlot.”

A harlot? Why kill a harlot? Did Seumas believe
she
was a harlot? Was Calum defending her? Is that why Seumas killed him?

Malcolm worked his fingers up her arm and pulled her against him. She did not resist.

“I am so sorry.” He tucked her head under his chin and stroked her hair. “Shh. This too shall pass. I will keep you safe.”

Iseabail closed her eyes. The memories tortured her. Seumas and Calum talking as they led the horse through the forest, as they sat in the cave and admired the stalactites, as they ate beside the river…

Nay. Nay. Nay.

Iseabail let Malcolm hold her, but her spirit was broken. How could she have trusted a man she hardly knew? He had been drinking with the soldiers, but was he actually a soldier? Had she ever seen him with his men? Had anyone spoken to him in the Hall? What if everything he told her, including the Crusades, had been nothing more than a lie?

Malcolm said he would protect her at any cost. Seumas had certainly never said anything like that. He seemed irritated by her very presence. But she would have sworn he had genuinely cared for Calum. They had seemed so close, talking as men do. How naïve could she have been? It was all a lie. She nudged her face into Malcolm’s shirt as she cried.

“What can I do for you, Iseabail? Is there aught? Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

She shook her head. “I feel empty inside. My baby brother is gone because I trusted someone I did not know.”

“So will you not trust me?”

Iseabail assessed him. He was Seneschal of Fairhaven, and she had seen firsthand conversations with him and his men, and the cook. He gave the orders. They knew him. He was who he said he was. Seumas had not really said who he was, but he let them believe things. He elaborated only when asked to. Making up lies so they would trust him.

“I do not know.”

Malcolm glanced down. “I admit I am saddened to hear that.” He looked sheepishly at her, raising his shoulders and averting her gaze. “I am drawn to you, to protect you. I could never let harm come to you.”

“Why? Why do you feel that way?” Mayhap if she had asked more questions of Seumas, she would have been able to save her brother’s life.

“I would see you safe.”

A shiver of fear ran down her spine. “Then tell me what to do.”

He pressed her head back against him. There was strength in the arms that held her.

Protect me from harm.

“I can bring you to your family.”

“Nay,
” she answered a little too loudly, drawing back to look at him.

He frowned, looking confused.

“Nay,” she repeated, trying to sound less forceful. She had no idea what had happened to Iain. Mayhap she could find him. But go back to her uncle? Never. “There is no one to love me or care about me now.”

“Oh, Iseabail, you are wrong.” His gaze searched her face. He smiled. “I do not know how you have failed to see what I have been showing you.”

In a flash, she remembered her panic at his advances in the hall. He seemed far less insistent now and yet…he was saying he felt the same. He lowered his eyes at her perusal. “I fear I have fallen for your charms.”

My charms?

How sad her dream of a man falling in love with her seemed now. So selfish. Her brother would never even have a first kiss.

“What are you thinking about, little Iseabail?”

“Do not call me that.” She sounded harsh.

“As you wish.” His voice was small, as if he had been hurt.

If Malcolm would not help her, there was no one else. She could not have him turn away from her now. She raised her face to him, and he captured her lips with his own. He pulled away and grinned. “May I kiss you then?”

Brazen. Her uncle had called her much worse. Closing her eyes, she leaned against him and tried to not think about anything. He reeked of body odor and onions. Seumas’s clean scent filled her memory. He had murdered her brother.

She had to be safe right here. Mayhap he would protect her as he had said he would.

He caressed her arm. “Does this please you, Iseabail?”

“It is very relaxing, Malcolm. I fear I do not want you to stop.” Her stomach lurched at his touch. She drew back.

“Then I shall not stop.” His voice sounded husky, and he wore the same look he’d had in the hall.

With great trepidation she watched his lips descend on hers again. His kiss startled her with its sudden forcefulness.

Petrified, she jerked her face away.

“Are you playing games with me, Iseabail?” His brows slanted downward.

Though she dared not move, hardly dared breathe, she shook her head. His frown relaxed somewhat, and he continued caressing her, slowly moving up her arm to the sensitive area of her neck and back down. Panic was rising. His hand on her made her want to scream. There was nowhere else for her to go. She could not be abandoned. Taking a deep breath, she struggled to calm her breathing. She needed to placate this man.

“How is it we are here alone?”

“
I feared for your life. That is why I took you away from the castle.” He spoke as if the words had been rehearsed. He avoided eye contact. “We could not find Seumas and I…I feared for what he might do to you.”

She dissolved into tears, burying her face in her hands. How could he have betrayed her so? He liked Calum. He did.

Damn it.

Malcolm assessed her. Would he find her worthy of his protection? She forced down her sadness, wiping her tears away.

“I did not know Seumas was an outlaw. He had always been so kind and thoughtful.” His body tensed, but she continued. “He had protected us, and I thought he was a noble man.”

His hand stilled on her neck.

She straightened to look at him, and his eyes were dark with anger. “Will you protect me? Will you help me find Iain?”

Malcolm’s face darkened. “Who is Iain? Is he your betrothed?”

Fear tingled up her spine. “No, I told you I am not betrothed.”

“Then who is he?”

“He is my brother.”

The fierce look returned, and he shook his head. “You told me you had no family.”

“I do not know what has happened to him.” Sobs were making their way up her throat. If she said the wrong thing, she could be left out here to die…or worse. She had to console him. “I did not mean to lie. I was confused. Forgive me.”

His face relaxed, and he held her closer to him. She willed her body to slacken. “You have been through much this day. Of course I forgive you. I will protect you and see that you get back to your family. You can trust in that.”

Exhaustion consumed her. She slept, encircled by Malcolm’s strong arms.

It was dark when she finally opened her eyes. Pitch black except for the fire burning brightly behind her. Pushing to a sitting position, she looked around for Malcolm, but he was nowhere. She pulled her knees to her chest and gazed into the fire. She needed to think about what she would do next. Calum could not have died in vain; she had to get help against her uncle.

It was unfortunate they were no longer at the castle, and she had been unable to speak to the counsel Mark kept. What would he have told her? Would she be able to take the land back from her uncle? She rubbed her forehead. What did it matter now? Iain was probably dead, too. There was no one.

She rested her cheek on her knee and closed her eyes. Seumas’s face was right there. Her heart was broken. How could she have been so wrong about him? She had really believed he could be trusted.

Where is Malcolm?

She heard voices. Who was Malcolm talking to? Quietly, she headed toward the sound coming from the woods. In the distance, Malcolm bent slightly toward the blond man from the castle, whose light hair was like a beacon against the dark forest. Iseabail stopped to listen to what they said.

“What did her uncle say?” Malcolm asked.

“He should be here soon. Have you decided which course to take?”

Malcolm cocked his head to one side. “I will decide when I need to decide, Phillip, and it is no concern of yours. Go see what is taking him so long. I do not want to be caught off guard.”

Her uncle knew where she was? Iseabail stopped breathing.

No
.

The solarium, her mother’s solarium, filled her memory.

No. Not again.

She backed away, fell over a rock but, getting back up again, tripped to where she’d been sitting. No. She could not let him touch her again. Her heart raced. Malcolm would return her to him?

Malcolm sauntered out of the woods. He was happy because he would be getting all that gold from her uncle. She took a deep breath to steady herself. No. Her uncle was not here yet. She still had a chance. Her pulse hammered in her ears, but she tried to smile warmly at him.

Sitting beside her, he took her hands lightly in his. “I am glad you are awake, Iseabail. I have some broth if you are interested.” She stiffly shook her head. “You still look tired.”

He tucked her hair behind her ear, and her heart lurched at the memory of Seumas doing the same. It hurt to breathe. She pushed the thought away and watched Malcolm, just as she would a snake.

“You have dark circles,” he said. He traced her cheek with his fingertip. “Did you not sleep well?”

She shook her head again and turned toward the fire.

He reached for her hand, but she pulled it back. He tilted his head. “Are you not well?”

She fought to keep the panic from overtaking her.

“I am very concerned for your safety. You are worthy of my protection.” Malcolm stood and added wood to the fire. The man in the hall had asked him the same thing.

“Am I?”

“Are you what?” Malcolm was concentrating on the fire, stirring the logs.

“Worthy of your protection?”

“I have said as much.” A frown marred his handsome face. “What are you asking me?” He glanced to the woods he’d just come out of. “Ah, I see. You were listening.” He dropped to his haunches, his face softened and his voice became quiet. He stroked her hair back from her shoulder. “I know who you are, and I know that your uncle wants you back. He is also willing to pay a pretty penny to see it done.”

“Then why were you discussing my protection with your men?”

He smirked. “To get you to trust me so I could bring you here.”

“It was a ruse?” His answering smile said it all. “Why bring me here? It clearly was not out of concern for my safety. Is Seumas even missing?”

“Oh, yes, he is missing, and he is dangerous. But the answer to your question is to meet your uncle, of course…oh, and get the ransom money.”

Overwhelmed, she could no longer keep her tears at bay.

He snorted, unmoved. “Although I do have a proposition for you.”

She sniffled. “What would that be?”

“You could marry me.”

She gaped at him blankly for a moment. The man was clearly mad. “How could you even suggest that? You have no idea what my uncle is like and yet you plan to turn me over to him. And now you offer marriage, as if that would be my salvation. You are naïve if you believe he would just hand me over to you to marry.”