Chapter Thirty-Three
Meg
Meg had thrown her axe at one of her attackers as hard as she could. It landed in the man’s chest, and he crumpled to the ground. But now all she had left was a small dagger.
She did the obvious, screaming and running, something she hated to do, but she didn’t have the confidence to use the knife on him.
Lennox’s voice caught her. “Your dagger!”
She tugged it out of the sack tied to her belt, glancing over at Lennox to see if he’d be able to help her. He killed one quickly, but the second one was tougher with a larger weapon.
“Fight, Meg! I’ll be there soon.”
She held her dagger out against the brute, but he grinned, lunging for her. She didn’t see any weapon other than the man’s fists, but they could do plenty of damage.
“You think you’ll hurt me with that small knife, lassie? Try to get close enough because I’ll get my hands on you then.” He chuckled, an evil-sounding laugh that went right up her neck, making her hairs stand on end.
He jumped toward her, but she kicked at his waist and his hand caught her foot, tossing her onto her back. She hit the ground hard, but she still had her weapon. He grabbed for her, so she attempted to embed her dagger in his neck as Lennox had told her, but she missed, the blade landing in his shoulder instead.
“Bitch! You’ll pay for that one.”
Blood sprayed all over, but she had a moment when he pulled the dagger out, so she did the only thing she could think of—going back for the dead man and her axe. Lurching toward him, she landed on his legs and tried to pull herself up to his chest, but her adversary grabbed her feet, his hands scrabbling up her legs.
“My, but are you not a fine one. I have a baron looking for a wife. He’ll pay good coin for you, so I’ll not kill you, but I must sample you myself first.”
“Egan, if you touch her, I’ll kill you,” Lennox shouted as he parried with the tallest man.
“How do you know my name?” Egan paused for a moment to stare at Lennox, then a grin crossed his face. “I remember you. The one I put in the cellars. I’m about to have a taste of your lady friend.”
She kicked Egan in the face before she finally grabbed the axe, though she couldn’t dislodge it from the dead man’s chest. Tears blurred her vision as Egan’s hand rubbed on her bottom, so she kicked and screamed again, pulling herself up enough to get leverage to remove the buried axe, but it wouldn’t budge.
“You’re mine now, lassie.” Egan winked at her, and she punched him in the face, but his fist was far more powerful than her own. Her head snapped down against the dead man from the blow.
The weight of Egan lifted from her in one swift move as Lennox tossed him aside with a roar, then held the tip of his sword at his throat. “Why, Egan?”
“Why? For coin. Why else would I do it?”
“Why me?”
Egan chuckled, so smug that Meg thought Lennox would kill him just from the confident laughter. He didn’t answer quickly enough, so Lennox pressed harder. Blood dripped down Egan’s neck, his laughter ending quickly.
“Why me?” Lennox’s tone dropped to nearly a whisper.
“Why you? Because I saw you at the festival, and you gave me that look, the look that says you were better than me. I knew you were a chieftain’s son, everything given to you, and you should have been grateful. Instead you were arrogant, so when my boss said he wished for a man to carry boulders, you were my first thought.” Egan looked at Lennox, then spit off to the side. “Thought you’d drowned. Hoped you’d drowned.”
Lennox stood back, pausing to rake his hand through his hair.
In that one pause, Egan bolted up and lunged for Lennox’s sword, but he was too slow. Lennox stabbed him in the chest, ending the battle.
Meg got up and ran straight to Lennox, launching herself into his arms where she clung to him, sobbing into his shoulder. So afraid after all she’d seen and heard, she refused to turn her head to look at their dead foes. “Are they all gone?”
“Aye. Hush now,” he said, holding her tight. He lifted her into his arms, her legs now around his waist as she sobbed into his shoulder. “Hush, lass. I’ve got you, Meg. They’ll not return.”
When she was finally able to lift her head, her breath hitched so that she couldn’t say a complete sentence, only one word: “Blood.”
“I know. We’re both covered in blood. That’s why I’m taking you to the beach. We both have another tunic, so we’ll change. Wash the blood from our faces. I have a sliver of soap in my saddlebag.”
He carried her to their horses, then to the beach a distance away from any fishermen. “Be ready, the water will feel cool at first.” He set her on her feet, but she couldn’t let go of his arms, the horror of what she’d just seen and experienced so awful that she couldn’t slow her pounding heart.
He pulled a plaid out of his saddlebag, pitching his dirty plaid to the side and removing his blood-soaked tunic. “Sorry, but my clothes have to go. I cannot get any more blood on you. If you wish to turn your head, then please do. I’ll change quickly. I’ll take you in the water in your chemise, and I’ll keep my plaid on until I can duck under water.”
She reached for her own tunic, ready to remove it, and he asked, “You have a chemise on?”
“Aye. This tunic. Off, off. I want it off. Please, Lennox.” She peeled off her leggings so they would stay dry as they didn’t have blood on them, then tugged the chemise down to cover her lady parts.
She stepped into the sea, allowing the cool liquid to cover her. “Lennox, do not let me go, please. I can’t swim.” While part of her wished to be embarrassed because she was only in her chemise, she trusted Lennox completely.
He followed her in, holding his plaid up until he was covered by the water, then tossed his garment back onto the beach.
“I’ll never let you go, lass. I promise.” Lennox took the soap and a linen square and washed her from head to toe, so soft and gentle that her tears ended, and all she could think of was Lennox.
How they belonged together. How she was finally beginning to understand what all the lasses talked about into the dead of night, about loving a man. She was falling in love with Lennox MacVey. She’d never felt the same for any other person the way she felt for him.
When he finished, she took the soap from him and said, “My turn.”
She washed his chest and then his face, neck, and his arms, swirling the water around to rinse the blood away. When she finished, he said, “Come. We’re going deeper. Hold my hand and I promise not to let you go.”
“It’s cool!” she said as she followed him out, the water nearly up to her shoulders.
“Tip your head back so you can wash your hair.”
She did but grabbed on to him as soon as she felt herself ready to drop.
“You won’t fall. I have you.”
She giggled and slipped enough so her face got wet. “It’s salty.”
“It is. Not a loch but part of the ocean, and the salt helps keep you buoyant.”
“What?” She had no idea what he spoke of since her only experience with swimming was the small burn and waterfall near their home. She’d bathed there many times, but in summer she washed her hair under the waterfall’s stream.
“I’ll show you, but you’ll have to trust me.”
“All right.”
Turning her around, he tugged her against him, her back to his chest, then wrapped his arm around her waist. “Promise me you won’t struggle and you’ll float with me.”
“I’ll try.”
“Relax and you’ll feel it. And if we are truly calm in the water, the dolphins will appear. Taskill and I used to do it all the time. Ready?” He arranged her in front of him, then fell back into the water, lifting his legs to propel her up. She squealed a bit, but then settled. “Look at the sky and put your arms out.”
It took them a bit, but before long she was floating next to him, his torso still partway under hers, his hand still on her waist. “Naught is more calming than swimming. And if we are verra quiet, you’ll hear the dolphins talking to each other.”
She did her best to keep still, and within a few minutes, she heard an odd chatter. Shocked by it, she waited, turning her head to glance over at Lennox, who pointed off to his right.
“Dolphins,” he whispered.
So stunned, she set her feet down, pleased that she could touch still, and watched the graceful creatures in the water, gliding in and out of the surface. Lennox stood in front of her and she set her chin on his shoulder, watching the show in front of them. He glanced back and asked, “Lovely, is it not?”
“Lennox,” she whispered. “I’m enchanted. Totally enchanted.” Her hands wrapped around his waist, anchoring herself. It was so peaceful and serene, she didn’t know what to say. She would remember this moment forever.
“Meg, your touch is affecting me in ways that tell me it’s time to get out. The sun is going down, and we should go back to the cave and sleep. We’ll find Lia on the morrow.”
“I’m tired and chilling a bit.”
He helped her out of the water and used his clean plaid to dry her a bit. “I’ll turn my back and you get dressed.”
She did as he suggested, removing her chemise and donning the tunic and her leggings. Then she joined him at the horse, where he lifted her onto his mount and climbed up behind her, the other horse following them. They said nothing on the ride back to the cave. The sounds of the water lapping against the coastline was the most beautiful music she’d ever heard.
When they made it back to the cave, they dismounted and she reached for him, tugging him closer. “My thanks to you for showing me all you did. It was the most wonderful experience.” She rubbed his arm.
His lips descended on hers and she was lost. Kissing Lennox was so luscious. He tasted like the mint leaves he chewed, and she loved being wrapped in his arms, his body pushed against her skin, inciting waves of tingling everywhere. She parted her lips and his tongue delved inside, dueling with hers until her breathing quickened, her body suddenly on fire.
How did it happen so quickly? He ended the kiss and her hand reached for his chest.
Lennox closed his eyes and stilled her hand, holding it inside his own. “Meg, your touch is too much for me. You have to tell me now or end this. Will you handfast with me for a year and a day? Once you touch me, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop. You’ve tested me since the day we met, and frankly, lass, I’m losing the battle.”
She stared up at him, her green eyes locking on his, still misting with tears. “I love you, Lennox. Aye, I will handfast with you.”
Lennox began the Gaelic chant he’d used on others in his clan, entwining his hand with hers as they pledged themselves to each other for a year and a day. He carried her into the back of the cave, whispering sweet words in her ear as he explained all that was about to happen.
She brought his lips down to hers, kissing him hard, teasing him with her tongue, and saying, “Just finish this. I wish to know all there is for us, but no more words, Lennox. Please.”
Lennox made sweet love to her, and Meg learned more about life in those few moments than she had in her seven and ten years. Life could be wonderful.
She had hope that all would be well soon.