Chapter 29

“We must cease these clandestine meetings," Roderic quipped. His brothers' faces were shadowed and illumined by a trio of candles impaled upon an iron stand in his own chambers. But even by that uncertain light, he could see their expressions were deadly serious. "Yer wives are becoming jealous."

"Of all the childish, immature, infantile—"

"Hawk would say ye are becoming redundant, Leith," Roderic said, pulling his shirt over his head to face them bare-chested.

"Hawk!" The room shook with Leith's wrath. "What in the name of Jesu were ye thinking when ye snatched him?"

Roderic shrugged. "The lad is sickly. Surely ye would na begrudge him yer lady's healing touch."

"I'll touch you, you brainless oaf!" Leith stormed, pacing the length of the room. "I have seen you do some feebleminded things in the past. When ye were young I thought you would surely cause yer own death. Hell! Every time ye awoke in the morn I would hold me breath wondering if today ye would fall from a roof or drown yerself in the burn. But I thought, foolishly, I see, that ye had grown ta be a man of some responsibility!"

"Well, I—"

"Well ye haven't!" yelled Leith, coming to stand before his brother. "For this be yer most foolhardy deed yet. Why didn't ye tell us where ye were going?"

"Forgive me for my naivete," said Roderic, managing to stifle a grin, "but I thought ye might voice objections."

"Objections!" shouted Leith.

"It's na too late to drown him," fumed Colin, jumping into the fray. "Let's just drown him. He's too doltish to live. And I'm the better-looking of the two anyway."

"What if the MacGowans had found ye? What if ye had been caught? Ye've abducted their lady, for Jesu's sake! Ye think they would have just inquired of her health and gone on their way? Nay! They would have hung ye by yer own worthless entrails!"

Roderic shrugged. "I am never caught, brother!"

"Hell!" Leith swore again and threw up his arms. "If ye are never caught, how did the Lady Flanna get ye ta Dun Ard? Did she but flutter her bonny eyelashes so that ye followed her down the primrose path like a panting hound?"

Roderic raised his brows. "Pretty much that."

"Colin!" Leith yelled. "Talk to him."

"Let's just drown him," Colin suggested again.

Roderic remained silent for a moment, then grinned. "Ye two were worried for me safety."

"Worried!" yelled the brothers in unison.

"Worried?" repeated Leith. "We were but hoping ye wouldn't return so we could rest easy for once. Worried!"

"Roderic." Fiona appeared in the doorway. Roderic smiled and opened his arms and she came like a lithe, auburn-haired angel to hug him. "Why didn't ye tell us your destination?" she asked, pulling away to look into his eyes. "Your brothers have been worried sick."

Leith turned away, grumbling under his breath. Colin swore. Roderic grinned.

"And what about ye, sweet Fiona? Did ye miss me?"

"Like a dog misses his fleas," she said, laughing. "And ye'd best cease flirting so; yer Flanna will not stand for it."

Roderic scowled and pulled the end of his tartan over his bare chest "My Flanna," he said, feeling his stomach sink, "could na care less."

Fiona was the only one who laughed. "Humility in a Forbes!" she said, sounding amazed. "I did not think I'd live to see the day. But 'tis quite becoming on you, Roderic."

Roderic turned away, the thought of Flanna making him fretful and cantankerous. "What the hell's she talking about, Leith?"

"She's saying ye're a dolt," said Leith, not deigning to look at him. "An opinion held by most."

"I think she's saying we should drown him," Colin corrected.

Roderic turned abruptly toward them. "Flanna missed the lad," he said in sudden explanation. "She missed the wee Hawk. Said so herself."

"Sweet Jesu!" rumbled Leith. "And what if she misses her sire, auld Arthur, will ye exhume his rotted body and bring him back to life for her?"

Roderic tightened his jaw. "She willna miss him," he said. It seemed a perfectly reasonable statement to him. Leith, however, didn't seem to find it so.

His hands formed fists. A muscle twitched in his cheek. "Dunna speak so foolishly, lad, for ye know how the sight of yer blood upsets me lady."

It was a blatant threat. Roderic smiled. "I meself find the sight of me blood quite uninspiring. And I am wounded, brother. 'Twould na be a fair fight."

"Then why in the name of heaven did ye na think of those things before ye went cavorting onto MacGowan land to…" Leith raised a heavy arm skyward as if mere shouting weren't enough to express his emotions. "…to .... steal another of their people."

It had always been pure joy raising Leith's ire—until he started swinging. Then it took all the wits and strength Roderic had just to call it a draw. Respect and a certain amount of maturity would keep them from coming to blows this day, he hoped. "Hawk was treated more like an outsider. He is na truly a MacGowan."

"'Tis na what I heard," said Colin soberly.

Roderic scowled, turning toward his twin, but the other only shrugged and added, "When the herald came with word of yer abduction, I began searching for information concerning the MacGowans."

"And?"

"They have close ties to France."

"That I know. Both Flanna and the lad spent a good deal of their lives there."

"They might share more than a second homeland," Colin said. "'Tis na great news that the auld laird was free with his seed, both here and abroad."

"Are ye saying they be brother and sister?" Roderic asked. The idea seemed farfetched, and yet not impossible, for the two shared an intimacy that could not be denied.

Colin shrugged. "The lad was born in France. Why was he brought here?"

"He was orphaned," Roderic said, repeating what Flanna had told him. “The lad was a cousin of the Wolfhound."

Colin raised his brows in question.

"Troy Hamilton," he explained. "Ye must see the man ta understand the name."

"I have seen the man, or shall I call him a mountain?" said Leith. "And I refuse ta believe that even ye would be foolhardy enough ta tek so much as the man's quill, much less his relation."

Roderic smiled. "Where is yer fighting blood, brother?"

"And this from the man who cried 'wounded' when I but scowled in his direction." Leith chuckled.

Roderic considered himself a peaceable man, but talk of Flanna made him edgy. His nerves were taut and it had been long indeed since he had brawled with his brother and laird. "I did na wish ta offend yer lady," he said, clenching his fists. "But if ye insist..."

"Enough," scolded Fiona, stepping between them. "I fear ye have strayed from the intended track yet again.The problem stands as it was at the beginning. The MacGowans are worried and angry. But a few days remain before Flanna must be returned to them."

"I will na return her!" Roderic's voice quivered with the words.

"Then they will come," said Leith.

"We outnumber them five to one and outwit them tenfold!" scoffed Roderic. Celibacy, tension, and rage pressed him on. "They have na the wisdom of rabbits nor the courage of goats."

All eyes watched him. All faces showed surprise.

"Gawd’s wrath!" Roderic swore, striking the wall in his fury. "Dunna look at me so. Ye dunna know her circumstances."

"I presume ye be speaking of Flanna again," said Leith. His tone was quiet and edged with humor.

"Isn't he always?" quipped Colin.

Roderic glared at them both.

"They have na the sense ta value a woman of spirit." He paced rapidly. "They sent her ta France, for Gawd's sake. Sent such a gift as she ta France!"

"The auld man is dead," Leith reminded. "And the lass leads the pack. Na wee feat. Surely they respect her now."

The truth of his words made Roderic's stomach churn. The MacGowan clan did respect her. But if he admitted such, did it not weaken his reason for keeping her at Glen Creag? "How do ye explain her wound then, if ye say they care for her?"

“There is na telling whether it was accidental or apurpose," Colin said. "One of our own men could have loosed the arrow. Or mayhap a MacGowan did not recognize her."

"Nay!" Roderic insisted. "They tried to kill her. And I willna let her go!"

The chamber was deadly silent in the wake of his exclamation.

"Then marry the lass," said Leith into the quiet.

The air left Roderic's lungs in an aching rush. Thetruth was, she did not want him. In all his philandering, in all his years of flirting and flying, never had he found a woman he wished to take for his own. Not until now. And now she would not have him. The irony was not lost on him, 'twas simply that he did not find it amusing.

Everyone watched him. He turned abruptly away. "She is na ready," he said simply.

Silence again, then, "Ho! So Roderic the Rogue has met his match!" Leith said. "And found a maid who can resist his charms."

"'Tis na that," grumbled Roderic. So what if Leith had a right arm that could fell an oak? Roderic was quicker and suddenly longed to pit his strength against the other, to vent his frustration and burn off some steam. "But mayhap I am na the kind ta force a lass ta marry me. Unlike ye, brother."

To Roderic's disappointment, Leith merely chuckled and raised a hand to Fiona. In a moment, she was nestled under his arm.

"Force is a strong word, is it na, me love?"

"Aye. Strong indeed," she murmured with a smile.

Roderic's stomach lurched again. He was not above admitting his jealousy for what they possessed. "Do I disremember, or did she na flee across the hall so that ye had ta chase her down and carry her back up the stairs by force?"

Again Leith chuckled. "I thought 'twas she who carried me."

"Damn ye, Leith!" Roderic swore. "Ye would na have let her go before the sun fell into the sea and the moon glowed red. Ye are na different than me."

Leith's gaze rose slowly from his wife's. "Then marry her, lad."

"I told ye she is na ..."

"Ye are scairt!" proclaimed Colin with a laugh. "Finally ye have met a woman unafraid ta face ye eye ta eye and ye are scairt she will turn ye away."

"I am na scairt!"

"Then mayhap she is na fair enough ta suit ye," suggested Colin.

Roderic rounded quickly on his twin, jabbing a finger toward his chest. "If ye try one of yer tiresome tricks on her I will pound ye ta dust," warned Roderic. In years past it had been humorous to take each other's identity for a passionate night. For the most part, the women, too, had found their practical jokes amusing, for one twin was as desirable as the other. But suddenly the old trick had lost its appeal.

"I guess her fairness be na the trouble," deduced Colin.

"Then mayhap she lacks intelligence," suggested Leith.

"Ye wish ta match wits with her, brother? Be me guest," Roderic fumed.

"It must be, then, that ye are ashamed of her manly ways. After all, she acts as if she be a laird. 'Tis ridiculous. No woman can lead men."

Roderic filled his nostrils with air and reminded himself not to swing at his brother. "There are those amongst the MacGowans who would give their lives just ta see her smile. Such is her leadership, though she knows it na."

Leith shrugged. "But her heritage is questionable."

"In her veins, there flows the blood of kings, our own and France's."

"But what have the MacGowans ta offer the Forbeses?" questioned Colin haughtily. "Their land is cursed with rocks and their puny livestock riddled with disease."

"The steeds of the MacGowans would make our own beasts look like stunted cattle in comparison."

"But they have na men ta ride them."

"They need na men," Roderic mused, remembering how she looked astride, how her flaming hair blew in the wind, how her eyes sparkled like newly mined jewels and her cheeks glowed with health and joy. "For with Flanna, the steeds sprout wings."

The silence was as heavy as sand, making Roderic realize he had said her name like a revered chant.

"Then Colin is right," Leith said. "Ye are scairt she will refuse yer hand."

"She would na!" Roderic exploded. "She would tek me if I but ask."

"Then ask."

Roderic's chest ached, and his hands were clenched to grinding fists. Suddenly, it all seemed so simple, for surely no woman could refuse him. He was Roderic the Rogue, man of men. "Aye!" he growled, "that I will."

He was at the door in a moment. "Prepare a wedding feast, Fiona."

"But, Roderic, think—" she began.

He slammed the door behind him and took the stairs three at a time.

"Flanna!" he yelled. The walls of the hall fairly shook with the force of his words. His chest swelled. 'Twas time he acted the part of a man. He had wooed her long enough and where had it gotten him? Weary and uncertain and aching with frustration. "Flanna!" he yelled again and yanked the infirmary door open.

The bed was empty. Beside it, Clarinda jerked to a seated position upon her cot, her eyes wide with sudden terror.

"Gawd's wrath!" Roderic bellowed.

Two brothers, a sister-in-law, and five servants stormed down the hall toward him.

"What is it?"

"Roderic?"

"What has happened!"

"She is flown!" he howled.

"Gone?"

"Where?"

"Merciful saints!"

"Hannah!" Leith yelled. "Find yer husband. Tell him the Lady MacGowan is missing. Search every nook until she be found. Julia, check Haydan's room! Roderic, for Gawd's sake, quit shaking Clarinda."

"Where did she go?" Roderic yelled into the terrified woman's face.

"I... I... I..."

"Where?"

"Was sl-sleeping," Clarinda stuttered.

"Gawd's wrath!" swore Roderic again and jumping to his feet, raced from the room.

The stable. She would not leave afoot, for mounted was her only hope of escape. Roderic thundered toward the horse sheds, but suddenly he remembered their night atop the battlements. She had seen the horses on the hillock beyond the burn. Would it not be like her to climb the wall and fetch one of those untamed mounts? Indecision made him halt.

No. She would not leave Great Heart behind. He knew it suddenly and raced for the stables. But just then a huge shadow caught his eye. It was near the gate and upon its back sat a rider.

Flame's hands shook. She had to escape before she lost everything, including herself. Roderic was coming to claim her for his own, like a bull might claim his mate. She had heard him plotting with his brothers, and she had neither the pride nor the will to stop him, not if she looked into his eyes, not if she felt his touch. Dear God, she must escape. She pulled the shawl more closely to her face. She was taller than Lady Fiona, but surely the guard could not tell that in the darkness.

"But m'lady," said the gate man, glancing fretfully about, "surely there be another that could check on Agnus's bairn."

Flame remembered to breathe and covered her mouth with the woolen to muffle her voice. "Please do not concern yourself on my account, William." His name was William, wasn't it? Or did they call him Willy or Walt or—"There is not a Forbes who would harm your Fiona Rose."

"Nay, there is na," agreed the guard. "But the accursed MacGowans most probably be chafing at their bits, and na woman is safe from those curs. 'Tis na right that ye travel alone at night. Might I na go with ye?"

"No. Please!" Flame stifled the urge to rail and look frantically behind her. Heart tossed his head. "I must hurry before—"

"Before what?"

The voice was Roderic's. Breath trapped in Flame's throat like water in a dam.

Great Heart turned to nicker a greeting.

"Were ye na even ta say good-bye, Flanna?" he asked.

"Flanna?" the gate man gasped.

"Stand back!" she warned.

"Flanna... MacGowan?" whispered the gate man weakly.

"Nay, I willna," said Roderic. "I have been standing back long enough. Now 'tis time I brought ye ta heel for yer own good!"

"To heel! My own good!" Flame laughed, but the sound was tight as she fought to remember her pride. "As though ye could judge what is good for me, Forbes."

"I can judge," he said, his voice deep in the darkness. "And I am good for ye. Ye will be me wife."

Happiness burgeoned within her breast. But in a moment, she snuffed it out. Pride! She must have pride. He could not demand her hand in marriage. Such arrogance! She could not allow such arrogance, for if he showed it now, it would only grow. He would set her aside as easily as he had demanded her. "I will not marry ye," she said, but her voice shook.

"Aye, ye will. And soon."

"Ye think ye can decide for me." Anger was finally building within her, brewing slowly but surely. "Ye think ye can closet yerself away with yer kinsmen and discuss my future as if I am of no more import than a ... than a fallow sow?"

"Ye were spying on me," he said incredulously. "Sneaking about Glen Creag like an irksome thief in the night and listening to my conversations."

"I am not my mother!" she cried. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and each shuddering breath hurt her throat. "Ye will not decide my life. Not ye or any man." Spinning Heart away, Flame raised her chin and threw back the shawl to glare at the gate man.

"Lower the bridge, William!" she ordered. "Or ye will feel the wrath of the MacGowans and all our allies."

Behind her, Roderic chuckled. "Dunna let her cow ye, Willy. Ye were right, the MacGowans be na more than spineless cur."

"Spineless cur?" she hissed, twisting back to glare at him.

"Aye," Roderic said. "All but one. And that one I will marry."

"Not for so long as I can draw breath! " she vowed.

"Wrong yet again," he countered. His teeth gleamed in the light of the single torch when he smiled. "We'll wed in a fortnight. Ye've precious little time, Flanna. Mayhap ye should—" he began, but he never finished, for in Flame's mind she saw a young girl crying within the stone walls of a silent abbey. She would not risk love only to be abandoned again.

Spinning the steed about, she spurred him straight for Roderic. The destrier's shoulder hit him square on, but instead of being plowed beneath the animal's pounding hooves, Roderic grasped handfuls of mane and hung on.

Flame gasped in outrage.

Roderic growled something indiscernible and swung a leg toward the horse's back.

"Nay!" Flame screamed and blocking his leg with her own, forced him back down. All the while the stallion plunged ahead. They were running parallel to the wall of the keep and only an arm's length away.

"Let go!" she screamed.

"When the angels sing in hell!" Roderic growled, trying to swing aboard again.

But already she had turned Heart toward the wall. He swung to the right. Flame yanked her leg from the stirrup just in time, and Roderic's shoulder hit the battlement with stunning force.

She heard his grunt of pain, saw one hand slip from the mane. But upon impact, Heart had veered left, allowing Roderic to grapple for a better hold. Suddenly, his foot was lodged behind the saddle.

"Get down!" she shrieked, but already he was aboard, nearly knocking her to the ground as he pulled the beast to a halt.

Heart snorted and reared. Flame tried to wrest the reins from Roderic's hands, but they were like iron on the leathers.

"Ye will marry me," Roderic said, his breath coming in great gasps against her ear.

"Never!"

"Ye will marry me," he whispered, "or ye will not see Haydan again."

The strength ebbed from Flame's body. Haydan! So that's why he had befriended the boy. And that's why he had brought him here. 'Twas not out of kindness, but to gain control of her, as others had controlled her in the past. Her hands trembled and she closed her eyes.

"Flanna?" His voice was soft suddenly, his face very close to hers. "'Tis sorry I—"

"Sorry!" she shrieked and swung her elbow with all her might. It hit his shoulder just where it had banged the wall.

Roderic's hands fell from the reins. He gasped in pain, but she had no mercy.

"Sorry!" she yelled, and twirling about on the saddle, bent her legs and thumped him full in the chest with both feet.

With a roar and a jolt, he toppled over the horse's rump, but at the last moment his hand whipped out and caught hold of her foot.

Shrieking and flailing, she was dragged after him. He yelled in outrage as he fell. Great Heart reared. Roderic's back hit the ground, and Flame, tossed from the fleeing stallion, landed with a grunt and a gasp with her bottom firmly atop Roderic's crotch.

The air left his lungs in a croak of deepest agony. But still Flame had no mercy.

Her identify bad been revealed to the gate man. Her horse was gone and with him her only hope of escape. But it was not too late to exact some revenge on the man who had turned her life upside down, who had torn the heart from her chest and thought to take her to wife in the same fortnight.

Lifting her hips from his, Flame scrambled forward to thump her weight onto his abdomen.

The air left Roderic's lungs yet again. He moaned in agony, but that was an instant before he felt the prick of her dirk against his jugular.

He lay very still, trying to draw an even breath and see through the red haze of pain.

"Ye are about to die, Forbes," she warned softly.

He managed to draw a rattling breath. "Did I na say I was sorry?"

"Ye bastard!" She screamed the word. Her voice shook. "Ye think to take my life from me and ye are sorry?"

His mouth opened slightly and he shuddered as though wracked with a pain only a man could understand. "Should I have said truly sorry?"

"Damn ye! Damn ye! Ye stole my heart and then crush it beneath your heel and all ye say is—"

In an instant Roderic had wrenched the dirk from her. With his hand upon the bare blade, he tossed it aside. "I asked ye ta marry me, woman! Never, not with all the women who wanted me, have I begged for one to become me wife."

"God damn ye, ye arrogant lout!" she gasped, and jolting to her feet, prepared to flee.

But in that moment she realized that a crowd surrounded them three-people deep. Jaws were lax and eyes wide. Flame skittered to a halt. But it was a mistake, for somehow Roderic had forced himself to his feet and grasped her arm in a hard grip.

She swung wildly toward him.

"Hit him again, Lady Flanna," someone called. The voice sounded like Colin's. "Just once more. 'Tis certain I am he deserves it."

Her mouth fell open. She turned her head to stare bemusedly at the people who should surely be incensed by her attack on one of their own.

"Gawd, we haven't had such a bloody fine row since Leith brought us his Fiona. Dunna stop now, Lady MacGowan."

Roderic cleared his throat. "It seems we have drawn a crowd, me lady."

She blinked, turning from his kinsmen to him.

"Roderic, I am ashamed of you," said Fiona, stepping from the crowd. "You know your Flanna shouldn't be exerting herself like that. What be you thinking?"

"'Tis truly sorry I am," Roderic said from a slightly bent position. "It seemed the lady needed a wee bit of…” He groaned in pain. "…exercise."

The crowd chuckled.

"You take her inside this instant," Fiona ordered. "And if she's torn that wound open you will answer ta me."

"Merciful Gawd," someone said. "Ye got the two of them mad at ye. Ye're in for it now, lad."

Roderic's gaze never strayed from Flame's face. She watched him breathlessly.

"What do ye say, Flanna? Shall we go inside and continue our... discussion?"

She swallowed hard and managed a nod. She would listen to what he had to say—and then she would leave.