Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
“Did ye hear that?” Leo asked one of the guards riding alongside him. “That was a scream. Nay doubt about it.”
There was no waiting for the man to respond or agree. He was off riding in the direction of the shrill sound, driving his heels into his horse’s flanks over and over. He heard the panic in the scream, shook through every second of it.
I ken the sound of a lass in danger, and I daenae think there’s another lass out in the woods besides Bea.
The branches slapped against him as he tore through the forest. There was no path to follow, no direction given. He followed the echoes of the screams, listening for stronger clues to point him in the right direction.
Snapping twigs underfoot caught his attention, and he whipped his head towards where he thought the noise was coming from.
This was the sound of survival, of a panicked soul sprinting away from danger.
Each broken twig led him forward, and he followed until he saw what he had been terrified of finding.
Beatrice was running blindly through the woods, a figure in a dark cloak hot on her heels.
She was screaming, one hand stretching out into the air as if grabbing for a weapon nobody else could see.
The figure caught her by the arm, yanked her backward so that she fell on her back, then yanked her back onto her feet, his arm encircling her waist.
“Leave her alone, ye cretinous bastard!” Leo shouted, turning his horse towards the clearing where Beatrice was struggling against her assailant.
Her head lifted as he broke through the branches and skidded to a stop in front of her. There was no relief in her eyes, not yet. There was still a knife against her throat and a man holding her too tightly.
Then Leo saw who it was, who had been chasing her and was now pressing a blade into her skin, smiling as he did.
“Allistair,” he growled, every inch of him stinging from the betrayal. “I always kent ye were a petty, weaseling sneak, but I still thought ye loyal as a cousin and a member of this clan.”
“And I always thought ye were a brutish, stubborn dobber who should never have been in charge,” Allistair retorted.
“I suppose we were both wrong, then.”
Allistair scoffed, but when Leo nudged his horse closer, he pressed the blade firmly against Beatrice’s throat. “Ah, ah, ye’ll keep yer distance, Cousin, if ye daenae want to carry yer betrothed back to the castle bloodless.”
Beatrice let out a quivering gasp.
Allistair raised the blade from her throat to her cheek. “Daenae make me cut this bonnie face.”
Leo froze for a moment, wondering if his cousin really had the courage of his convictions. To risk harm to Beatrice was too big a gamble, so he steered his horse away and dropped off the side to come face to face with Allistair.
The second his boots hit the ground, Allistair let out a violent scream. Leo looked just in time to see Beatrice sink her teeth into the fleshy part of his hand. The blade slipped through his fingers and fell silently into the carpet of dried leaves underneath their feet.
Good lass.
Beatrice wrenched herself from Allistair’s grip and bolted across the clearing towards Leo.
“It’s been him, all him,” she gasped, her legs shaking. “He was the one who poisoned the shawl. He was goin' to kill me out here and then take the lairdship from ye.”
“A snake in me own family,” Leo spat.
Allistair snatched up the blade from the ground and lunged at Beatrice as she ran towards Leo. Slicing wildly, he managed to catch her arm, and she screamed, clutching at the open wound. Blood ran between her fingers. Allistair swung again, this time aiming for her back.
Leo didn’t think. There was no time to be slowed by disgust for by the sniveling man linked to him by name and blood.
His sword was out before Allistair could reach Beatrice a second time.
He swung low, feeling the resistance as his sword pierced into Allistair’s abdomen.
Allistair clutched at his wound, and blood began to trickle through his fingers.
There was more of it, though. It was a deluge that couldn’t be contained by something as fallible as human hands.
“Ye’ve done it,” Allistair wheezed, shock contorting his face into a shaken mask Leo would never forget for as long as he lived.
“I have,” Leo answered.
He watched his cousin crumble into a pile on the cracking amber leaves, the blood pooling beneath him turning them red.
The forest went still around them. Neither Leo nor Beatrice was able to speak, to breathe, to do anything but stand in the silence and stare at each other.
Finally, Leo broke the spell and pulled Beatrice into him, feeling the pounding of her heart against his chest.
“I thought…” she trailed off.
He pulled back and gripped her by the shoulders. He wanted to shake the life out of her, but at the same time, he wanted to embrace her again and never let anything bad happen to her.
I could kill ye meself, lass, if I werenae so relieved that ye’re all right.
“What were ye thinkin’, Beatrice?” he asked, his voice much harsher than he had intended. “Why would ye run off like that on yer own?”
Beatrice pressed a hand to her chest. “Why did I run off?” She pushed the same hand into his torso. “Why did ye run off? Ye left me at the inn. Ye were gone, and I had nay choice but to find me way somewhere else.” Her voice broke.
Leo felt a weight lift from his heart, from his lungs, from his throat.
I made her think I could walk away. When she woke up and I wasnae there, it was easy for her to believe that I had left her for good.
“Nay, it wasnae true.” He drew her back into an embrace. “I didnae mean to cause ye harm, lass. I would never leave ye all alone like that.”
He cupped her face in his hands and stared into those hazel eyes, the mix of brown and green that had caught his interest from the moment he had first seen them.
There was an avalanche of truths he wanted to tell her, a million things he wanted her to understand. Instead, he just stared into her eyes until she reached out a hand and touched the side of his face.
“I didnae ken what to think, Leo,” she rasped. “I should have ken that ye’d be too good a man to abandon me like that.”
“I never would. I never will, Beatrice. Ye have me word, if ye’ll accept something so small from me.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes but did not fall, holding the line as she nodded, silently accepting his offer.
Leo rested his forehead against hers, listening to her breathing as the minute sounds of the forest chattered around them.
“Maybe this is love,” he murmured. “I was away from ye for mere hours, and I felt as if me heart was ripped from me body.”
“When I woke up without ye, I hoped I would die on the road rather than keep feelin’ the way I did.”
“Will ye find out with me, Bea? Will ye see if this is what it means to be in love?”
Beatrice rested a hand against his chest, letting out a soft, watery laugh that broke through her tears. “Ye called me Bea,” she breathed, awed. “Ye finally called me Bea.”
“It feels like the right name for ye,” Leo rasped, pulling her into him as tightly as he could. “Do we dare to find out what the future has in store for us?”
“Aye.” Beatrice nodded. “There’s nay one else in the world I’d like to take this journey with.”
Leo leaned in, and their lips met.
There was a charge, a fire that erupted from a spark, the same way there had been that night in the corridor where she had tripped into his arms. The same way there had been on the terrace as the noise of the cèilidh roared and ebbed behind them.
Like it was under warm sheets at the inn, wonderin’ where we were going from there.
He deepened the kiss, pulling her harder against him. It was as if she became the air he breathed, as if she became his energy and spirit. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she clung to him as they kissed.