Chapter Twenty-Four #2
She continued out of the castle using the kitchen’s back door, walking in the direction of the loch and causing an uproar behind her.
“Lady,” Geoffry said, hurrying in front of her. “I canna let ye enter the water. Ye will—”
“Of course, I am not going to enter the water, dear Geoffry.” He turned red when she called him that. It made her smile go warm on him. “Ye know how I like to rile things up.”
He sighed with relief just as an arrow flew between them.
Even faster than she could take in, he pulled her under his arm and whisked her away behind a nearby tree.
He set her down and then was gone an instant later, racing to the others.
Lachlan was shooting arrow after arrow into the trees.
Ismay had never seen arrows nocked and fired in a row so fast. But then she saw something else.
Someone running toward them from the castle as if his life depended on reaching her.
It was Constantine, gaining on them fast.
Suddenly, he detoured and ran into the trees.
“Lachlan stop!” she screamed.
He turned and looked at her and an enemy arrow whistled by him and landed with a thunk into the tree trunk where she hid.
Lachlan hadn’t seen where the shot came from, but Ismay had. She could see Constantine fighting someone through the bare branches. Was that…MacRae?
He went down as Constantine slammed his body into him. Lachlan and Geoffry took off running to the trees. Ismay ran to her two friends.
A moment or two later Constantine and Lachlan returned to the women. Geoffry dragged a hogtied MacRae back to the castle, where he would be dealt with.
When he saw her, Constantine hurried to her and pulled her into his arms. “Are ye hurt at all?” he asked, worry tainting his voice. “Are any of ye hurt?”
They all reassured him they were unhurt. Lachlan pulled Joan into his embrace, proving the bonnie serving gel had won the heart of Lochaber’s darling Lachlan Cameron.
“Hilary,” Constantine said, “bring Ismay back to the castle. I need to see to things.”
“See to things, like MacRae’s death?” Ismay asked him.
“Aye, things like that. And the imprisonment of his accomplice to kill ye. Lady Marjorie MacPherson. He admitted she paid him to kill ye and then me. But he went after ye first.”
“Thankfully,” Lachlan muttered with a smirk, “MacRae is a poor archer.”
“I willna let him live again, wife. He has a price. Men like him are dangerous.”
She nodded, believing he was right and let Hilary lead her back. “Fergive me fer making ye come outside, Hil.”
Her friend slapped her arm. “He was coming no matter what, gel. Be thankful the fool attempted his nefarious deeds with the men around.”
Ismay was grateful that none of them were hurt. She was grateful she would never have to run from Alistar MacRae again. She wouldn’t apologize for it. She was glad he would be out of her life now. And if Marjorie wanted Ismay dead so badly, then the safest place for her was indeed prison.
Two hours later, she blew a deep breath out of her mouth and looked around the Great Hall. The emissaries had gone and Constantine was still interrogating MacRae. She should go to bed.
She left her chair and started for the door.
He appeared there a moment later, tall, dark, and virile, scanning the faces until his gaze found her.
Her heart thumped loudly enough for him to hear it.
It seemed he may have indeed heard it for he smiled suddenly, as if he’d just seen home after a grueling battle.
Would it be too bold to jump into his arms? To kiss his face—och, every inch of it, as if she hadn’t seen him for a time too long to bear. She took a tentative step and lifted her fingers to her lips. Remembering how he kissed her.
He reached her, filling her nostrils with a scent meant only for her. Sandalwood? Peat? Pine? Mayhap all three. It went straight to her head and made her feel drunk on wine.
He took her hand and brought it to his lips.
Every eye in the Great Hall was set on them. Constantine didn’t seem to care.
“Were ye waitin’ fer me, lass?”
His deep voice bathed her in warmth, comfort, and safety. It filled her veins with fire.
“Come, let’s retire to bed,” he suggested, sliding a sensual gaze to hers as he led her away.
“Aye.” She didn’t resist or refuse. She never would. She would always want him in her arms, her bed.
The instant they were out of the Great Hall, he tried to pull her in for a kiss, but she escaped his grasp and made him chase her up the stairs. If he wanted her, he’d have to work a wee bit. She was no pushover.
He caught her at the top of the stairs. He could have caught her sooner, but he let her have her fun. She wasn’t the only one who laughed though. Constantine Cameron, Lochiel of Lochaber laughed too.
The sound filled the hall and reached the ears of the four men watching them from the Great Hall doorway.
“Where is my brother?” Fionn asked the man who had returned with the Lochiel a few moments earlier.
“He insisted on finding Lady Marjorie MacPherson of Raigmore,” Hugh let him know.
“A woman?” Lewis asked curiously.
“An evil woman who wants Ismay…my lady, killed.”
Lachlan and the others muttered about hoping Geoffry found her. Then they went back to drinking and singing ballads about their Lochiel and his courageous Lady Ismay Cameron.
The End