Chapter Eleven
Jamie couldn’t keep his eyes off her. As Elise rode by his side, he found himself looking at her constantly, noticing all the tiny details.
That outrageous pink hair that should have looked so odd but on her looked perfect.
The tiny dimples that formed in her cheeks when she smiled.
The habit she had of tucking her hair behind her ear, only for it to come loose almost immediately.
Dear God, she was beautiful. So beautiful that the sight of her took his breath away. He ached to kiss her again. Lord help him, he ached to do more than that—as the hardness in his groin testified.
He hadn’t meant to kiss her. It wasn’t something he’d planned. But as she’d stood before him, so close he could smell the sweet scent of her hair, he hadn’t been able to help himself.
And it had been every bit as good as he’d imagined.
Better, in fact. The feel of her, the taste of her, had lit an ache inside him the likes of which he’d never felt in his life.
Jamie had known women. Plenty of women. But none of them affected him the way Elise did.
None of them made him feel so…so…whole. So seen.
So aye, as they rode he couldn’t stop himself from watching her, enthralled by the sway of her hips and the fullness of her lips. Behind them in the bay, the tide had turned, wiping away their footprints, erasing any evidence that he and Elise had ever been there. But Jamie wouldn’t forget.
He shifted in the saddle, trying to focus his scattered thoughts. He was Lord of the Isles, dammit, not some lovestruck youth! So why did he feel like one? Why was he so helpless around this woman?
The wind carried the tang of the sea, mingled with the scent of salt and heather, and he sucked it in deeply, trying to get a grip on himself. His horse’s hooves struck the rocky path in a steady rhythm, but his heartbeat was anything but steady.
He tried to focus on the task that had brought them out here in the first place—the pirate base they still hadn’t found—but it was no use.
His thoughts drifted back to the beach, to the feel of her hand on his cheek, the moment her defiance had softened into something else entirely.
He’d kissed her like a drowning man reaching for air, and for a few fleeting seconds, he hadn’t felt the weight of command, of duty, of the Isles.
Just her.
A gull cried overhead, its call sharp and lonely against the wind. He swallowed hard.
The sun slipped behind the western cliffs, and the path narrowed as they finally approached the road to the keep. The towers of Dun Arach came into view, carved from stone that caught the dying light.
Elise broke the silence. “You’re quiet.” Her tone was teasing, but her eyes were searching. “Was it something I said?”
“Just thinking,” he said with a shrug. About you.
“Dangerous habit.” She gave him that sideways grin that always did something strange to his chest.
He found himself grinning back at her. He always wanted to smile when he was near her. “So I’ve been told. Elise, listen—”
“My laird!”
Jamie turned his head. A group of mounted warriors was racing towards him from the direction of the keep. Lather covered their horses’ flanks, and the warriors themselves were dirty and sweat-streaked.
A shiver of dread went right through him. He nudged his horse towards them as they came thundering up.
“What is it?” he demanded. “What’s happening?”
“An attack!” one of his men, Malcolm, replied, swallowing thickly. “At Ingeld. Came out of nowhere.”
Jamie went cold. “Go back to the keep,” he said to Elise. “Stay there.”
She flushed. “But I can help—”
“No!” Jamie snapped. Dear God, the thought of Elise in danger was more than he could bear. “Two of my men will escort ye back to the castle. Keep Dun Arach safe. I’ll be back soon.”
Her jaw moved and her eyes shone with fear for him. But she only nodded tightly.
Jamie stared at her a moment longer, all the words he wanted to say clogging his throat. Then he snapped at Lewis and Conn to keep Elise safe, whirled his mount, and went thundering off with his men.
His thoughts churned. Was this the revenge attack they’d been fearing? But why Ingeld? It lay several miles to the south of Dun Arach, but Jamie couldn’t think why the pirates would attack there.
The stench of burning hit him long before Ingeld came into view—thick, acrid smoke that clung to the back of his throat and turned the sky a sickly gray. Jamie urged his horse forward, dread churning in his stomach.
The village should have been quiet at this hour: fishermen mending nets, children playing in the streets. Instead, as they rounded a bend in the road and the village came into view, he saw the place was in a tumult.
A crowd had gathered along the harbor road, villagers shouting orders, passing buckets from hand to hand.
Sparks leapt upward in angry red coils as two large buildings roared with flame, their thatched roofs collapsing inward like dying beasts.
The heat washed over Jamie even from thirty paces away.
A sick feeling of dread filled his stomach as he realized what he was looking at. The village itself had not been the target of the pirates’ attack. The homes, the boats, the people had been left untouched. No, the pirates had had a very different target in mind.
Jamie’s grain barns. Two of the largest on Islay were here in Ingeld.
And they were both on fire.
He slid off his horse, boots striking ash-covered gravel, and stared. For a moment he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. The world seemed to narrow into a single thought.
How will I feed them now?
Islay’s winter was never forgiving. They had already been rationing carefully after the earlier attacks on their grain shipments. Those barns had held what little surplus they had left. Now it was gone. All of it.
A man stumbled towards him—he recognized Torrin, Jamie’s foreman here in Ingeld. The man’s normally ruddy face was blackened with soot.
“My laird,” he rasped. “We tried—Lord knows we tried—those devils came from nowhere—”
“Did ye get a look at them? Who were they?”
Torrin shook his head. “Strangers. Hard eyed. Not from the Isles. They set the torches and fled before we could stop them.”
Jamie felt cold despite the heat of the blaze.
His jaw tightened so hard it ached. He walked closer, stopping just shy of the smoking threshold.
The barn doors sagged inward, glowing embers devouring what had once been sacks stacked to the rafters.
Villagers kept throwing water, but it was hopeless. The grain was already lost.
Urgent hoofbeats sounded behind him, and he turned to see Phillip MacClelland thundering down the hill towards him. They pulled their horses up sharply, and Phillip jumped to the ground. His eyes were wide with horror as he took in the burning barns.
“No,” he whispered. “Holy God, please no.” His voice was choked with the same shock that twisted Jamie’s guts.
Suddenly a roof beam collapsed in a fountain of sparks. The villagers recoiled, shielding their faces. That grain had been meant for them. For their children. For the winter that stretched long and bitter ahead.
“Those bastards,” Phillip breathed. “We have to stop them. If we dinna, this will be the end of us.”
Jamie closed his eyes. Aye, it would. He felt the noose tightening around his neck. He was being driven into a corner. And there was no way out.
He forced himself to breathe. He had made difficult decisions before. Sacrificed sleep, safety, and blood for Islay. But this—
This was surrender. But what choice was left? If he wanted to save his people, there was only one option left open to him.
Elise’s face flashed in front of his eyes. Memories of the kiss they’d shared on the beach filled his head. How could he do this? To her? To himself?
Because he must. Because he could not break the pirates’ stranglehold without help. And there was only one way to get that help.
The fight bled out of him like warmth into winter wind, and with it went the last of Jamie’s hope.
“Send for the king’s envoy,” he said to Phillip, the words tasting like ash on his tongue. “Tell him I’m ready to agree to the marriage contract.”
Phillip blinked in surprise. “Are ye sure? I thought ye said—”
“Do as I say, damn it!”
Phillip studied him for a moment longer before bowing. “As ye command, my laird.” He mounted his horse and turned back for the keep.
Jamie stared at the burning barns and felt a pain lance right through his gut. He had failed. No matter how he looked at it, he had failed his people. He had failed himself. But worst of all, he had failed Elise MacFinnan.
It was towards midnight when he and his men finally returned to Dun Arach. The fires at Ingeld had finally been doused, and he and his men had spent several hours scouring the area around the village, making sure that the pirates weren’t still in the vicinity. As always, he found no trace of them.
Exhaustion dragged at his limbs as the keep came into view.
It blazed with light from torches ringing the battlements, and he knew that nobody would have retired to bed yet, eager for news of what had transpired at Ingeld.
Jamie wasn’t sure he could face it. He wasn’t sure he could deliver yet another round of bad news to his people.
But worse was the thought of what he would have to tell Elise.
He found her waiting for him. As he and his men rode through the gates, he saw her standing at the top of the steps, pacing up and down as though she couldn’t keep still. As soon as they rode in, she came hurrying towards him.
“What happened?” she asked anxiously. “Are you all right?”
He swung down from Tempest’s saddle and allowed Bryn to lead the big stallion away.
“Elise,” he began. “There’s something I have to tell ye—”
“My laird!” Phillip’s voice cut through the clamor.
His advisor came hurrying over, clutching that damned marriage contract in one hand like a cudgel to beat him with.
“I thought ye’d want to know,” he said breathlessly.
“I’ve sent word to the king’s envoy by bird, advising him of yer agreement to the king’s marriage proposal.
If the weather is kind, he should be with us within the week. ”
For a heartbeat, Elise stared at Phillip, uncomprehending. Then she took a sharp intake of breath.
“You…you’ve agreed to marry the king’s niece?”
“Elise, listen to me.” He reached out, but she stepped back, away from him. “Elise—”
She shook her head. “Don’t. Don’t say my name like it means something.”
He reached for her. “Please, just let me explain.”
But she was already moving—turning on her heel, skirts whipping around her legs as she strode away. She didn’t look back as she disappeared into the keep.
Philip shifted uneasily beside him. “My laird, I’m sorry if I—”
“It isnae yer fault.” It’s mine. All of this is my fault. “Go and meet the council. Tell them what’s happened—I dinna think I can face it right now.”
Philip hesitated, then bowed and retreated, leaving Jamie standing in the courtyard alone. The torches flickered, their light casting long shadows against the walls. He stared at the doors Elise had vanished through, his chest tight.
He’d lost her.
And for the first time in his life, Jamie Donald of Islay wasn’t sure if the Isles were worth the cost.