Chapter 4

4

M aeve tried to keep her eyes open. She heard the desperate voices calling for her, felt a warm touch slide over her forehead, andshivered hard because the heat it offered was much better than the chill spreading through her.

One thought circled around in her mind. Why am I riding with him?

"She is burning," the Highlander spoke first. Strangely, Maeve recognized his voice even through her delirium. He sounded firm but gentle.

"We need to move," he continued, his words closer to her ears now.

Maeve felt her weight leave the ground, and she whimpered again as hot tears burned the back of her eyes.

She tried to speak, but her words were only a croak. An ache spiraled through her and swept away every other sensation. She needed to breathe, but the corset wrapped tightly around her midsection made that impossible.

"What is wrong with her?"

"We dinnae have time for this…"

"She is me sister!"

Maeve touched the Highlander's wrist to stop the argument tearing between him and her brother.

"Please," she whimpered, surprising herself as she shook violently.

All she wanted was to get as far away from Lord Hampton's manor as possible. Maeve didn't know how best to voice her plea.

Thankfully, Ayda spoke up. "Get us out of here. Let us go somewhere safe."

Maeve saw through her blurry vision as the Laird carrying her marched to a horse waiting nearby. He gently placed Maive on the mare then mounted behind her.

"The inn isnae far from here," Flynn observed just before the horse snorted and moved forward.

Laird Devlin gripped the reins steadily to get the mare to obey then he kicked her sides and pushed her into a fast gallop.

Maeve's head kept pounding the entire ride away from Lord Hampton's property. The chill creeping against her bones heightened as they rode into the night. Every hoof step made her body rock into Laird Devlin's harder one, and she whimpered from the pain in her back.

At least he is warm, she thought, her lids drooping close as she slid towards the brink of painless darkness again.

"Maeve?" he whispered behind her after some time, his voice soft in her ears. "Stay awake. I need ye to stay alert."

Maeve groaned and fought harder to keep her eyes open because of his soft encouraging words in her ear.

Her body trembled regardless of the battle, and time floated around her till she could no longer hold on.

Maeve was only aware of his hot breath falling against her skin and the slowing beat of her own pulse. It felt like hours flew past while she sat astride the saddle.

By the time Laird Devlin finally slowed their ride, Maeve's chest felt like it would explode from the weight crushing her down.

He helped her down from the saddle and carried her towards the thatched roof cottage she had spotted a distance away.

Maeve heard distant chatter and recognized the voices as her sisters arguing, and she tried to speak up.

"Save yer strength," Laird Devlin hushed as he carried her into the cottage. Flynn marched in as soon as he lowered her to the bedding there, and he sat by her side, immediately framing his hands around her cheeks.

"We need to give her a tonic for the fever and find her herbs," Flynn was saying but Laird Devlin didn't listen to a word he said.

Maeve watched through half-hooded lids as he ripped a part of his kilt in two, marched out of the cottage, and returned with a dampened cloth.

"She needs to cool. Fastest remedy for a fever is a damp washcloth."

Maeve only whimpered as he plastered the cool cloth against her forehead and placed his hand over it.

She managed to breathe easier, and her eyes stayed open long enough to flicker over his green ones.

The fierceness she saw in those emerald depths caused another shiver to wrack through her. He held her gaze steadily, his chin set hard, every feature of his face contorted in a tight frown.

Maeve sensed his annoyance even though she could not understand why.

This man just saved her and her sisters from six years of living a nightmare, and he already found a reason to be annoyed by them.

Stilling her insides so she could gather her strength a little, she swatted his hand away from her forehead and sat up slowly on the bedding.

"Where is this cottage?" Maeve sounded faint even to her own ears.

"Laird Devlin and I planned yer escape for some time. We paid some English trader living on this land to let us pass the night here. At dawn, we ride for Scotland. It is a long journey, and we need our rest."

Maeve stared at her brother as he explained, but all she could think of as she watched was how the years had aged him. The corners of Flynn's eyes had wrinkled lines from his slight frown, and he had much more hair than Maeve remembered.

A wave of nostalgia rushed through her as she recalled the last time they played around their castle together. Flynn's laugh was rich as he yelled at her to pick a stick and fight him in a duel.

Her father would not let her wield a sword back then, and Flynn would get in trouble every time he let her touch the head of his blade. The tightness romping through her throat made it difficult for her to breathe again.

Tears burned hot behind Maeve's eyes, and she nearly broke into tears.

"If ye dinnae feel strong enough, then we shall wait till the later morrow to resume our journey.

"We cannae wait," Laird Devlin interrupted gruffly now, his head tilting to one side as his gaze raked fully over her face. "We must leave England as soon as possible, else we risk that lord finding us."

"She is ill," Flynn insisted. "How can she make the journey when she cannae even hold her own weight up?"

"I am tryin' to save us the hassle of spillin' any more English blood than we have to. I shall carry her all the way if I have to, but if ye want yer sisters to remain safe, we must move."

"This isnae yer decision, Laird Devlin; they are my sisters and …"

"I am fightin' yer battle, Laird O'Kane…. I shallnae…"

"Enough!" Maeve yelled when their arguments began to heighten the pounding in her head. "Please…." she whimpered slowly, and both men turned to her, rushing forward to touch her shoulder at the same time.

"Are ye all right?" they both asked, their eyes piercing and questioning.

"Ayda and Erin need to be safe," Maeve managed, licking her lips quickly. "Laird Devlin is right. We must leave England. Lord Hampton is more dangerous than ye think Flynn, and if he…" she trailed off as she thought of the punishment she would face if Archibald found them now.

I cannae go back there… I won't survive, she thought desperately, quivering with the renewed knots of fear tunneling through her.

"I am all right, and I shall ride 'till we are far away from here and safe."

"We dinnae stop until we arrive at Devlin," Laird Devlin said now, his tone softer as he framed a hand on his hip. "The other side of Mount Torrach," he added with a smirk forming on his lips. "It is dangerous terrain, and we must travel it during the light hours of the day."

"Why…Why are we traveling to Devlin?"

Maeve whipped her eyes from Laird Devlin to Flynn, waiting for either of them to explain the reason to her. Her brows drew together in a frown, and her pinched features stayed on long enough for her chin to harden on its own accord.

"Maeve," Flynn began, lowering himself to her side on the bedding, "In order to save ye and our sisters, I had to form an alliance with Laird Devlin here. He was my only option because nae other Highland clan wished to cross Lord Hampton and risk their businesses for our sake."

Maeve still waited to hear why they needed to travel past their home to the other side of the mountain where the Devlin lands lay.

"I agreed to give ye to him in exchange for his help," Flynn finally explained. "Ye are to wed Laird Devlin, Maeve. It is the price we paid for yer freedom."

Flynn's words rang through her for a full second before they slowly settled in her mind.

Maeve looked from Flynn to Laird Devlin, who gauged her every reaction with his hawkish green eyes. His eyes moved over her face hastily just before he said to her, "Ye are to be my wife, lass."

She blinked and forgot all the pain slicing through her at his announcement. The cold fingers of renewed terror gripped her tightly as the implication of what this meant.

"I must never marry a Highlander," Maeve chanted in a low murmur first before she crossed her arms over herself in a protective hug. Lord Hampton's deafening warning echoed through her.

She repeated the words while rocking herself tight on the bedding. There were dire consequences for breaking any of the Hampton household rules, and not marrying a Highlander was one of those rules.