Chapter 9
“What is it?” Ryan asked, pressing against Margaret slightly in an effort to encourage her to continue to their steed. “Come now, daenae ye want to get back to the castle?”
When she didn’t move, he took a long look at her expression. There was fear there, etched into each of her features. Her gray eyes, the ones that he admitted were enchanting, were locked onto something in the distance.
Following her gaze, Ryan spotted a man standing on the corner about ten meters away. He was staring directly at Margaret, his attention unwavering. There was something sinister about him, his posture anything but friendly.
One of the thieves? Nay… a thief wouldnae be standin’ in broad daylight.
“Do ye ken him?” he asked, tightening his arm around her. Her tiny body was shaking against his solid one. “He’s lookin’ over here like he kens ye.”
“I don’t know him exactly,” Margaret said, sounding smaller than he’d ever heard her. For the first time since meeting her, Ryan realized the severity of her need for protection. “But he’s probably here to take me back to England.”
Ryan narrowed his eyes, shooting daggers at the man who was still standing there, unashamed and unconcerned at being watched. If Margaret weren’t pressed against Ryan’s side, trembling like a leaf in the wind, he’d do something about this man.
I might have to anyway. He is nae lookin’ away.
He was already envisioning the ways that he would tear the bastard apart for making Margaret cower the way she was. His fingers itched to be wrapped around the handle of his blade. The man in front of them needed to be eliminated.
“Nay,” Ryan said, urging Margaret on toward the horse, needing to get her out of here. “Nay one will take ye from me, lass. I can promise ye that. Ye’re mine now, and if that man even thinks of approachin’ ye, he’ll lose an arm if nae his head.”
The words were possessive, even to Ryan’s own ears. He didn’t care, though. They were the truth, each and every last syllable.
Margaret looked up at him. Several emotions flashed across her delicate features.
Comfort and confusion seemed to be the dominant emotions, but there was something more complicated there.
Had time not been of the essence, Ryan thought he might actually want to dig into the layers beneath the surface.
Cannae say I’ve ever felt like that about anyone but her. Every other woman I’ve kent…
“Come now,” Ryan said, tearing his gaze away from Margaret to check on the man. He knew he’d spent too long analyzing her expression.
Dammit, where did he go? I didnae even look away for more than a second.
Gritting his teeth, Ryan steadied himself. He needed to ensure Margaret had a way out of here if things got dangerous. If she were in the saddle, she could run if it came to blows. She said she could ride after all.
“Prepare yerself,” he told her when they got to the horse, casting a glance around them to ensure there wasn’t anyone waiting to ambush the two of them. Their immediate vicinity was clear. “Ye’re going up.”
Lifting Margaret was sinfully easy. She was a dainty thing though her spirit was anything but. This woman left her home and crossed the border into another country. She came to him and held her own when she presented the marriage proposal. Her looks were deceiving.
She would get the council off his back and one day give him an heir once he seduced her properly.
In turn, Ryan would protect her from the man she rejected.
Now was the time to make good on that promise.
If he couldn’t keep her safe now, he didn’t deserve to be in her presence or to call her his wife.
And by God, if this sparky thing is this scared… They’ll pay. I daenae care how many of them there are. They’ll pay. They daenae know who they’re pickin’ a fight with.
Once Margaret was on the back of the horse, Ryan’s eyes swept the area again. Several paces away, the man from before was approaching. He moved steadily, seeming unhurried. Ryan spotted the way his hand rested at his waistband, likely poised to grab a concealed knife.
If they stayed still for too long, he was putting Margaret’s well-being in danger.
She wouldn’t be hurt—he’d make sure of that—but he didn’t want her to see the depth of his savagery.
He could admit to himself that he enjoyed having her by his side, that she brought out a part of himself that he was sure had been killed a year ago, along with his cousin.
I willnae let some English bastard take that away from me. I’ll slaughter the whole of that country if it means keeping her.
“Hold on tight,” Ryan said, throwing himself into the saddle behind Margaret. He gripped the reins hard, leaning fully against her body. “Going to go a wee bit faster than we did comin’ in. Brace yerself.”
Without giving Margaret a chance to ask why or what he was planning, Ryan kicked at the steed’s sides.
Instantly, the animal broke into a gallop, its hooves slapping against the cobbled street.
Margaret was thrust back against Ryan’s chest, and he drew his elbows closer to her ribcage, holding her steady to keep her from being thrown off.
Buildings blurred as they picked up speed, leaving the village as quickly as the horse could take them.
After a beat, she seemed to adjust to the hard riding, but he didn’t take his steadying touch away.
In fact, it wasn’t until they were safely within the castle’s barriers that he took the pressure away from her sides.
“What happened?” Colby asked, running to them from his post. “I saw ye barrellin’ in. Is the castle in danger? Do I need to assemble the men?”
“Nay,” Ryan barked as he glanced behind them. “Get a few to join the guards, but we daenae need to assemble all of them. Nae yet at the very least.”
The gates were still open though his guards were assembling to close them as quickly as they could.
There wasn’t anyone following in the distance, and there weren’t any signs of pursuit during the ride.
Either the Englishman didn’t have a horse of his own, or he knew better than to follow Ryan back to his castle.
While he’d have to increase the watches, as long as everyone stayed within the walls of Castle McGhee, there wasn’t any imminent danger. He would keep his people safe.
“Why were ye runnin’?” Colby pressed, his gaze following Ryan’s. His palm rested on the hilt of his knife. He was poised to run into battle at Ryan’s word.
“I’ll tell ye soon,” Ryan promised as he reluctantly let his arms drop away from Margaret. He dismounted as he said, “Get the stable hand to take care of me horse. And tell him to bring the package in the saddlebag to Cali. It’s for me wife.”
“Aye,” he said before taking off to fulfill his task.
Margaret had begun to shift, preparing to jump to the ground.
Ryan acted quickly, reaching up to grab her.
One arm settled beneath her legs; the other supported her back and rested against the side of her ribs.
She made a disgruntled noise of protest that he ignored.
She wiggled slightly but didn’t get far.
Carrying her bridal style, Ryan marched through the doors. Heads turned, his servants and other denizens of the castle still unused to seeing him with a woman. Or perhaps they were surprised to see him carrying her like this.
They’ll have to get used to it. This little lassie is going to hold up her end of the deal after today.
“Put me down,” Margaret squeaked when she finally found her voice. “Now, Ryan.”
“Nay,” he said, ignoring the way she pushed at him. She barely moved within his grip. “I willnae until we’re in yer chambers.”
He already knew that he was stronger than her; her little stunt this morning proved it to him. She wasn’t going to get out of his grasp until he let her down. It didn’t matter how much she struggled.
“I’m capable of walking, Ryan,” she grunted, still fighting though she’d lost a bit of her enthusiasm once there were no more witnesses around. She knew she’d lost the battle. “You do know that, right?”
“Aye, I ken,” Ryan said as he took a turn that would lead them to Margaret’s chambers. Light streamed in from the windows lining the corridor, dust motes swimming in the rays. “But ye walk slower than I do. This is faster. We need to talk as quickly as possible.”
She huffed but finally gave up her protests.
As she slumped against his chest, her arms crossed, he tightened his hold on her.
Having her this close made him feel powerful, like he could protect her from anything that came her way.
It seemed she felt the same if the way her body relaxed was anything to go by.
He was loath to admit it to himself, but he had been unprepared for someone to come after Margaret. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her when she came to beg him for protection, but he doubted that anyone from England would dare pursue her. Had he not gotten the two of them out of there quickly…
Best I daenae think about that right now.
Using one hand, Ryan opened the doors to Margaret’s chambers. She clung to him still, as though she were deriving some sort of unspoken comfort from his proximity. If there weren’t questions he needed answered, Ryan might have indulged her and held her longer.
At least her shaking had stopped. That was the least he could do for her at the moment.
When he lowered her to the floor, she kept her hands braced against his biceps. She was frowning, giving a show of her displeasure for being carted through the halls though she seemed to swallow most of her complaints. Turning her nose to the air, she smoothed her skirt with a huff.
“You really like to behave like a beast,” she said as though she were chastising an unruly pet. “Picking me up whenever you want. I’m a lady, My Laird. You would do well to remember that.”
If ye think I’m a beast for that, I’d hate to ken what ye’ll think of me when I get ahold of whoever that bastard was.