Chapter 17

Isobel threw herself to the ground as Alex moved in front of her to protect her. He quickly followed, lowering himself onto the sand.

"What is it?" she asked, both of them looking around the edge of the beach as another arrow sailed above them.

"I dinnae ken. Stay down, ye hear me?"

"Me bow," Isobel said quickly, "it's on Heather's saddle. I can run to her and draw their fire."

"Nay! It's too dangerous." Alex's expression was tight and grim, his hands moving as though to stop her as she shuffled forward through the sand.

"If we stay here, we'll be hit."

Alex's gaze was locked on the edge of the beach. It seemed that the arrows were being fired from a small outcrop of rocks, but it was impossible to tell with any certainty from their vantage point.

Another arrow zipped past a few feet from Isobel's left elbow.

"All right," he called urgently. "But we both go. I'll nae let ye get shot because of me."

"What makes ye think they're just firin' at ye?" Isobel asked indignantly. "I'm a lady, and ye're the Laird—we're both a target, as far as they're concerned."

Alex rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. "Ye want to debate yer position or have an arrow pierce yer head?"

Isobel scoffed. "They'd have to learn to aim first."

And with that, she sprang to her feet and sprinted to the horses. She could hear Alex cursing colorfully behind her as he followed.

Even in her haste, Isobel marveled at how quickly Alex could move, his big body catching up swiftly and keeping pace with hers as they ran across the uneven sand dunes.

He reached Jock almost as soon as she was by Heather's side. She flipped the saddle bag open, fumbling for her weapons, feeling a swell of pride that she had her arrow notched and targeted before Alex had even retrieved his bow.

She looked about them, staring into the distance to warn of any other approaching arrows.

Alex moved to stand beside her, just as she saw movement behind one of the rocks in the corner of the beach below the cliffs. She cried out, nodding her head toward the spot as she loosed an arrow instantly. They both heard a muffled cry from behind the rocks.

Alex stood at her side as they both began firing in earnest. Several arrows came back at them, skipping against small stones or flying over their heads. It was clear the archer was rushing and not accustomed to accuracy. Isobel slapped Heather's flank, and both horses cantered away across the sand in fear, leaving them both even more exposed.

Alex cursed. "Ye want us to die, woman?"

"I'll nae have them shoot Heather either," she replied, loosing another arrow. "The horses didnae do anythin' to deserve it."

"Ye and yer love of animals," Alex huffed with exasperation, and they both ducked down as another arrow sailed to the left of them.

Isobel counted five more arrows before they both paused for breath. She was running out, and so was he. She just hoped they'd done enough to deter their assailant.

Alex was standing just in front of her, swinging his arm to shield her. She felt a rush of affection for him. He was allowing her to fight, but he still wanted to protect her.

"Where is it? Where is it?" he muttered.

"We should take cover," Isobel urged.

But they both looked to the right and left, and there was nothing but sand stretching for miles in either direction.

"Nowhere to run to—they must have picked this spot for that very reason."

As he spoke, another arrow whizzed through the air, and Isobel yanked him out of the way. They tumbled across the sand, coming up on their knees, their arrows drawn.

Alex looked back at her, his eyes sparking with purpose.

He enjoys a fight, me Pirate Laird.

Alex was squinting into the distance just as she had done, his eyes focusing on the spot at the base of the cliffs. Finally, he looked back at her.

"Keep firing. I'll go there and see if I can catch whoever's shooting at us. I'll keep a sharp eye."

"Are ye mad? They'll fire an arrow straight into ye."

"Nae if ye keep them busy. I thought ye were the best archer in the Highlands?"

Isobel pushed her hair out of her face, looking across the beach at their invisible attacker. "That I am. Stay low and dinnae get yerself killed."

He looked back at her. "It almost sounds like ye care, lass." He gave her a rough grin. "Dinnae shoot me," he added.

She scowled at him, even as he began sprinting across the sand, dirk in hand, staying as low as possible, running in a crisscross pattern so as to avoid any wayward arrows.

She fired as many arrows as she could over his head, watching his long legs eat up the distance effortlessly. She could hear her own breath in her ears, rapid and angry, as she surveyed the rest of the beach, praying that there was only one target to hit. If there was anyone else hiding behind the rocks, then Alex was horribly exposed.

Another arrow zipped through the air a few feet to her right, but their aim was weak in comparison to hers. She loosed arrow after arrow at the rocky outcrop, trying not to think too much about what would happen if she hit her mark.

Isobel had never used her archery for anything but sport—the idea that she might kill a man did not sit easily with her.

They fired first, they had it coming.

She loosed one final arrow as Alex's large form reached the rocks. He leaped expertly over the nearest boulder, and Isobel held her breath as he raised his dirk above his head, charging into the fray.

As he landed, however, his shoulders relaxed, and she could see his arm lowering. Whoever their attacker was, they seemed to have taken flight.

Isobel lowered her bow, breathing easier as she waited. No more arrows were fired, and she heaved a great sigh of relief as she watched Alex search the area. He looked gigantic to her at that moment, standing tall and proud.

Isobel glanced to her right, where the horses were still visible in the distance. Jock had his tail between his legs, but Heather was watching her, her stance straight and proud. Jock didn't move far from her side, and Isobel smiled.

He kens a strong filly when he sees one.

She gave a wry smile and put two fingers in her mouth, whistling across the sand and feeling a rush of wicked happiness at the sound. If she had tried that at home, her sisters would have chided her. She relished the freedom of it. She could just imagine Emma's scandalized expression at her unladylike conduct.

Jock and Heather dutifully returned, now that the danger seemed to have passed, and she slung their reins together, before hooking her bow over her shoulder and placing her arrows back in the saddle bag. Once secure, she ran across the sand as fast she could, the two horses trotting behind her.

She reached Alex, who hopped back over the rocks, looking about him warily, but it appeared the immediate threat was gone.

"Nothin' to see," he muttered bitterly. "They've scuttled back into whatever hole they crawled out of. Couldnae see tracks over the rocks, but they'll have left this beach if they have any common sense."

"Did ye see anyone flee?"

"Nay, I think they started movin' as I started approachin'. Cowards." His eyes were sharp and angry as he scanned the surrounding area. "Are ye all right?" he asked.

Isobel nodded mutely.

Alex didn't speak, his gaze raking over her, assessing her for injuries. He went to Jock's saddle bag and pulled out a long plaid, which he handed to her reverently.

"Ye must be cold. Put this on before we go back."

"Who do ye think it was?" she asked, wrapping the plaid around her shoulders. She realized, as she did so, that she was shivering violently.

"I dinnae ken. I wish I did. Stay close. They may be waitin' elsewhere. I cannae see much—too many places to hide."

Alex hoisted Isobel into Heather's saddle without a word, then mounted Jock.

"Quick as ye can, Isobel. Dinnae wait. If anyone else fires on us, just keep movin'."

"I willnae leave ye behind," she said stubbornly.

He tsked under his breath, shaking his head. "Please, just this once, will ye listen? I dinnae wish to see ye harmed. Please."

His eyes were soft and somber—she hadn't seen that look of desperation on his face before.

She nodded, and his shoulders relaxed.

They galloped at full speed away from the beach. The afternoon sun was beautiful against the landscape, with a soft breeze in the air and the smell of bonfires in the wind. On any other day, Isobel would have reveled in the view, but her body was tight with tension and worry.

Once they had cleared the beach and were riding through the neighboring fields, Alex pulled on Jock's reins, and Isobel matched his pace as they slowed down. Alex turned in his saddle to check behind them, but all appeared quiet.

She waited, knowing that he had something to say. His frown was deep and angry.

"Why would someone attack us there? Why would they wish to?" he asked, shaking his head. "We have made our people face change, ‘tis true, but I cannae see why that would warrant such violence. Especially against ye." His tone darkened as he looked back at her.

"I asked ye on the day we first met if yer people would rise up against ye. Do ye think that is what is happening?" Isobel asked.

"Nay," he replied quickly. "If it was a full rebellion, hundreds would have come."

She watched him as he paused, his face showing the tension she felt running through her.

Alex looked up, his eyes wild for a moment. "That arrow almost hit ye, Isobel."

His fingers tightened around the reins, his knuckles turning white, and Jock's head was being pulled uncomfortably back.

Isobel spurred Heather forward, close enough to lay a gentle hand on his wrist. As he felt her touch, Alex loosened his grip on the reins. Jock shook his black head in relief, before bending down to graze.

"Do ye think it is the villagers?" she asked thoughtfully. "That was quite a scene yesterday. Clearly, yer crew arenae as welcome as we believed."

Alex looked out into the direction of the village. "It wouldnae be the first time," he muttered gravely.

"What do ye mean?"

"Rothach hated me men as soon as they set foot in the villages. Without waitin' to meet them, or speaking a single word to them, they were pushed aside—like outcasts. No one trusted them or wanted their company."

He sighed, shrugging his shoulders in defeat. "I ken they arenae the easiest men. None of them are accustomed to village life. They needed time to get acquainted with how things were done, but they werenae given a chance. It may sound strange to ye, but a pirate's honor matters. They didnae take well to bein' shunned."

Alex looked back at Isobel, his eyes sorrowful.

"There were fights. In Rothach. One night, a villager nearly lost an eye. They're rough men—they had to be. I cannae control them all, but most just want a quiet life. I hadnae thought it would be so bad in Clan Clyde. I believed this could be a fresh start." He shook his head, his brow furrowed. "It must be Rothach clansmen who were behind the attack."

"Why do ye say that?" Isobel asked.

"They attacked ye," Alex pointed out, rage lacing every word. "I've seen yer people around ye, Isobel. Ye're well-liked in Clan Clyde. Clan Rothach has nay loyalty to ye, nae yet. I dinnae believe someone from yer clan would attack ye like that in broad daylight."

Isobel shook her head. "Clan Clyde has been through a great deal of change, too. Geoffrey wasnae hated by all. Many of the men prospered under him. It took a long while for them to trust me. Some of them could have lied, waitin' for their chance to make their true feelings kenned."

Alex looked back at her, seeming baffled. "Ye have done nothin' but speak for and protect yer people all yer life, Isobel. If they are so short-sighted, they dinnae deserve ye."

She smiled, feeling warmth bloom within her at his fervent words. She had always had her sisters to speak up for her, but she had never believed she would have such loyalty from Alex, too.

"Thank ye," she replied simply. "But whatever ye may have done in life, ye dinnae deserve it either."

She could feel Alex was not fully listening to her, his eyes trained on Rothclyde Castle in the distance. She felt worry wash over her at his determined gaze.

"We'll find the culprit," she stated, with more confidence than she felt. "We shall put this to bed, and we will all be able to build a new life here."

* * *

Alex swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat as he listened to his wife's words. He had never felt terror like that. When the arrow had flown between them, he had thought his heart would stop.

In all his time on the ship, there had been many moments when he had been seconds away from death. He realized now that he had never cared before. Death had meant a release from a harsh world. He had never had a reason to live.

I have one now. I shall find the bastard that almost killed me beautiful wife and destroy everything he holds dear.

The only thing he had seen as he jumped over the rocks had been a single set of footprints. When he had advanced, he'd been concerned they were facing more than one man, but as he had examined the sand, he realized he had been wrong. It was a single attacker.

That knowledge had calmed him, somewhat. One man could be dealt with. Perhaps it was a single rogue who was displeased with how he ruled the clans.

Alex stared at Rothclyde Castle. He loved that castle, he realized now. Despite its miserable state, he loved that his wife would walk down those corridors with his children one day.

But nae yet. I must protect her first. Now more than ever.

He looked back at Isobel, only to find her watching him quizzically.

"I dinnae like it," he said sharply.

"I cannae say it's the best way to spend time at the beach," she replied casually, but he did not return her smile.

"I think it would be best if I spent some time with me crew, for a short while, until this is settled. I never want to see an arrow aimed at ye ever again, and I dinnae ken the culprit yet. I will need to ask some questions."

Isobel frowned. "Ye are going back to the village?"

"I think it's best," he replied with a heavy heart. "I dinnae want this brought to our doorstep. The castle has strangers inside it every day—I dinnae want to put ye in danger."

Her hair was drying now, the loose strands fluttering in the wind. Her dress was absorbing the water from her undergarments, and her skin was glowing, her eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

God, she is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

"And what about the heir?" she asked, making yet more heat pool in his belly at the idea of finally taking her.

His lips curled into a smile even as she rolled her eyes at him. "Are ye ready to beg me now, Isobel?"

Her high cheekbones flushed pink in the sun, and he grinned, chuckling quietly at her discomfort. But as he remembered their talk on the beach, he sobered quickly.

"I made ye a promise, and I willnae break it. I will keep ye safe and free. I'll never force ye into anythin' ye dinnae want. Nae for the rest of our lives together. I wouldnae ever want ye to see me in the same light as that evil laird who once ruled ye."

He turned Jock toward her, the idea of returning to the pirates and keeping her at a safe distance solidifying in his mind.

"I shall be a laird from a distance and handle things from the village until I am sure this danger has passed. I trust ye with the rest—ye have been doin' it long enough without me."

He turned Jock away from her then, tamping down the urgent need to kiss her. He realized at that moment that he did not wish to be parted from her.

Isobel's eyes were unhappy as she watched him, clearly not agreeing with his decision for them to stay apart.

"Ye will send word if ye find out who the villain is?" she asked, but her expression was hard to read.

"Aye. I'll inform ye as soon as I am ready to return."

"And ye willnae do so until ye have captured him?"

Alex nodded.

Isobel huffed out a sigh.

"It is for the best, Isobel," Alex said softly.

She rolled her eyes, pulling on Heather's reins to head back to the castle. "Aye. I've had men tell me things were ‘for the best' all me life. I dinnae need ye to protect me, Alex Bain. It wasnae ye who fired seven arrows and sent that blaggard away. I dinnae need yer protection."

"And what is it ye need then, M'Lady?" he asked, his voice soft and devoid of anger.

She looked back at him with a defiant gaze that made anger and heat roil inside him.

"How would ye ken? Go to yer village, and I shall wait for ye like a dutiful wife in our ruin of a home. Seems to me that ye think we are better off apart."