Chapter Twenty-Nine
Rory was halfway down the trail when he heard a horse galloping behind him, rapidly advancing. With his hand on the hilt of his sword, he jumped off the trail, turning to see who was approaching. He fully expected to see MacDonell’s men, swords raised, ready to attack and strike him down.
Instead, his breath caught in his throat at the vision catching up to him.
Alana.
She was urging the horse forward, quick as it would go. She was breathless, her hair windswept, and the fiercest look on her bonny face. She would make any warrior a worthy opponent.
The horse skidded to a halt not far from him, and Alana dismounted, running to him. “I ended it,” she said, her voice shaking, chest heaving.
Stunned, he didn’t move as he absorbed her words. “Why?” He asked. “How? Ye had e’erything.” But the words were bitter on his tongue. She didn’t. He had left her in Hell and he kenned that.
Stepping closer, she shook her head. “I didnae. Without choice, I had naught.”
He looked away, trying to understand what had happened. Was he dreaming?
He pinched himself and felt the smart on his skin. Nay, he was wide awake and Alana was standing afore him.
His mind tried to assess what was unfolding. What the ramifications of it all would be. But, still, he had to ken the truth. To hear it from Alana’s own lips. “Are ye for certs this isnae just yer rebellion talking?”
Reaching out, Alana grasped his hand, holding it betwixt hers and bringing it to her chest. “’Tis love talking. And if ye walk away, I will survive. Hardly, but I will. And I’ll also ne’er forgive ye for it.”
Still, he hesitated. Wondering if he should pinch himself again to wake him up because for certs this was a dream.
Had he fallen and hit his head on a rock?
Was his mind playing tricks on him? Mayhap the ale he drank at Caer Rannoch was poisoned in MacDonell’s way of punishing him. Or the water he bathed in was tainted.
But then Alana cupped his face and brought his head down to her as she raised up on her toes, capturing his mouth in a fierce kiss that left no room for doubt.
Dropping his pack, he lifted her against him, wrapping his arms around her. Returning her kiss like he was starving for her touch. And he was.
When they broke apart, gasping for air, he stammered. “I didnae think I would e’er see ye again. The thought was killing me,” he confessed.
“I couldnae lose ye, Rory.” She stroked his cheek with her fingertips.
“Walking away from ye last eve broke my heart. Spending any time with that, he is so vile I cannae e’en call him a man.
I just couldnae. If my choice was to stay and marry him or throw myself o’er the cliffs, I would choose the cliffs. ”
“Dinnae think such thoughts, Bluebell. Ye are free.”
She looked at him seriously. “I am no’.”
He cocked his head to the side, confusion drawing his brows down. “Why do ye say that?”
A huge smile bloomed on her face. “Because I am yers.”
He laughed, tumbling onto the ground with her, and pinning her body under his. “Aye, but of yer own free will. I would ne’er tie ye down or attempt to control ye.”
“I ken.”
Their lips met once more. This time the kiss was slower, not as frenzied as afore, and Rory’s body roared to life, his cock straining in his trews, weeping for release.
Rory lifted his head, looking around them. “Whilst, we appear to be alone, let us move off the main trail.” He hopped up, and shifted his hard length to a more comfortable position whilst he collected his pack and grasped the horse’s reins.
Leading them off the road, he played with the idea of getting her to the village, and renting a room at an inn for the night, but he didn’t think he could wait that long to sink himself into her warm softness.
He located a spot that would offer them shelter in the chance of rain, and would hide them from any travelers. Tying the horse to a nearby tree, he opened his pack and laid out his blanket.
Afore he could say aught, Alana was there, stripping off her dress, sliding down her stockings after she’d kicked off her boots.
Confidently, she stood there, in all her naked splendor, and crooked a finger at him, beckoning him closer.
Moving quickly, he tore off his tunic. She didn’t need to tell him twice.
They came together, fiercely, rushed. Worried that this could be the last time, but they both kenned it wasn’t.
There would be many nights ahead where Rory would take his time making sweet love to Alana.
But not now. Nay. Right now, he needed to seat himself so far into her that he forgot his name as she writhed under him reminding him what it was.
Both naked as the day they were born, they fell onto the blanket. Rory’s lips found Alana’s pulse in her neck and nibbled, trailing small bites down to her breasts, where he pinched and licked and teased her nipples into hard peaks.
Beneath him, Alana moaned in pleasure, her fingertips feathering over his hair.
He dipped his fingers into her core, sinking into her wetness. “Ye are so ready for me, Bluebell.”
“I havenae stopped thinking aboot ye since yesterday,” she whispered.
“I couldnae stop either.”
“Make me yers, Rory Hart.”
He smiled, and nudged her thighs open, entering her in one long, hard thrust.
Her breath caught on a gasp, and she smiled blissfully as she met his eyes.
Their coupling was swift, fast, and hard. As if they were trying to convince themselves that it was real. That they were truly together.
And when they tumbled over the edge together, calling out each other’s names, Rory kenned that all would be well.
They slept for some time and when they woke, the sun was high in the sky.
Alana stretched, her beautiful breasts pointing to the sky above. Rory bent his head and captured a nipple in his mouth, tugging. She grasped his head and brought it up so she could kiss him deeply.
He sighed. He could spend all his days for the rest of his life and die a happy, sated man. But, they had business to attend. Things to discuss.
As much as it pained him, he stood, grabbing his trews and pulling them on.
“Must we leave?” Alana asked, her lips formed into a pout.
“Aye. There will be things we must take care of. First of which, the horse? Must we return it?”
She shook her head, her mussed hair swaying from side to side. “Nay. A gift from the stable boy.”
Rory lifted a brow. “That was kind of him.”
“I did offer him compensation, but he refused.”
“And MacDonell? What of him?” Rory asked the questions that were burning in his chest. He wasn’t sure where they went from here.
“He expects the coin he paid for me to be returned with interest for the inconvenience of dealing with me,” she answered, rolling her eyes at the audacity of the bastard.
“He really is a louse.”
“The biggest I have e’er had the displeasure of kenning.”
Rory thought of her statement earlier. “Does yer father have the funds or has he already spent them?”
Alana sighed, shrugging her shoulders. “I dinnae have any idea, really. I hadnae realized how dour our financial situation was until I left. On our travels, I had a lot of time to reflect. I could see the signs. My father is inept at financial management. I see that now. He always comes up with some kind of scheme which nets him coin, and then once ’tis gone, he comes up with another one.
I just happened to be his latest, and his last. Without me, he has naught left to bargain. ”
Rory pulled at the back of his neck. “So, the chances of him being able to repay MacDonell are unlikely.”
“I believe so.” She frowned. “What does that mean for us?”
He pulled her into his arms. “Dinnae fash aboot it. We will find a way.”
And he would. He would take her to Hartsmoor and explain the situation to his father.
Hell, if Moira could marry their enemy, then he for certs can take a wife that was originally promised to another.
The Hart coffers were large enough. Rory would convince his da to repay the Duran’s debt and then he would work to repay his father.
It might take some convincing, but he could do it.
He’d had Alana all to himself, then he had to let her go. Rory wouldn’t make that mistake again.
*
Since they had the horse, traveling back to Hartsmoor went much quicker than their journey to Caer Rannoch. They did spend two nights at village inns. Rory smiled as he thought of the nights they spent learning every inch of each other’s bodies. But more importantly, they talked. For hours on end.
He truly felt that he had met his soulmate.
“What are ye thinking aboot?” Alana asked.
“Why do ye ask? I am no’.”
She twisted to face him. “Ye fib, Rory Hart. Yer arms tightened around me just then.”
He smiled. “Cannae I just want to hug ye? But, aye, ye are right. I was thinking of us. How lucky I am. How ye came into my life at just the right time, and when I was least expecting it.”
“I would argue that ye entered mine just in the nick of time. Saving me from a life of misery.”
Now that the landscape had leveled out from the rocky terrain further north, Rory kicked the horse into a trot. “Ye dinnae give yerself enough credit, Bluebell. Ye would have saved yerself, I’m for certs of it.”
She settled in front of him, her back to his chest, and he kissed the top of her head.
“Mayhap,” she said quietly.
He nudged her. “Positively. I have nay doubt in my mind. Ye are the strongest woman I ken. No’ many lassies would be able to face what ye had to and do it with her head held high.”
“Do ye ken my parents are aware of what has happened?”
He sighed, maneuvering the horse around a large boulder. “They will soon enough. My parents as weel. ’Twill take a lot of explaining as to the e’ents of what have happened. But I believe we will win in the end.”
“Getting away from MacDonell, I feel like I have already won.”
Rory chuckled. “I can understand that.”