He strode from the room, leveling his brother with a hard stare when Iain cal ed out to him, “You wil na’ hurt her, Rory.”
Rory picked up Aileanna’s trail easily enough once he realized she had not headed to MacDonald land after al . He assumed whoever she was in contact with must have arranged a meeting place closer to Dunvegan. Coming upon horse and rider in the glen, he eased back on the reins. Hidden within a cluster of pines, he patted the black’s pow LORD OF THE ISLES
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erful neck. “We’l stay and watch for a bit, Lucifer. See who the lass meets up with.”
He bit back a smile when she delicately tapped the mare’s flanks. Bessie didn’t budge. Holding on to Bessie’s mane, Aileanna bounced up and down several times. The horse snorted, and she threw up her arms in frustration. Rory watched in amusement as she awkwardly slid from the mare. But his amusement faded when he saw her hobble forward to cajole her horse. She’d been hurt. He dug his heels in Lucifer’s sides and left the shelter of the pines. Each time Aileanna urged the horse on with a tentative pat to her flank, Bessie would take a step back. The lass lost more ground than she gained. She gave a muffled groan and sunk to the heather-covered ground, drawing her knees to her chest. Bessie nudged her, nickering.
“Don’t try to be nice now—it won’t work,” he heard her grumble.
“You shouldna’ be fashed with her. She made it much farther than I expected she would,” Rory commented dryly.
“You!” she gasped, turning to look up at him. “How did you find me?”
“’Twas no’ hard.” He dismounted and came to stand over her. “I’ve come to take you back to Dunvegan.”
A hopeful light appeared in her eyes. “You believe me now?”
“That yer no’ a spy? Nay, I doona’ believe that.” He wished he could.
“Then I’m not going anywhere with you.” She lowered her forehead to her knees.
“And where would you be plannin’ on goin’, lass?”
“I don’t know.” She mumbled the words into her gown.
“Then you might as wel come home with me,” he said quietly. She was exhausted, beaten down, and it bothered him more than it should.
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“Why? So you can lock me away again, starve me, tor
ture me?” Her voice was weak, but angry. He shook his head. “You’ve no’ been starved or tortured.”
She snorted and tossed her head.
“You sound like yer horse.”
She narrowed her gaze on him. “Go away.”
He ignored her, leaning over to scoop her into his arms. She gave an affronted cry and struggled, kicking her feet.
“Ouch.” Tears sprang to her eyes.
“Be stil , Aileanna. You’l only cause yerself more pain, and I’l no’ let you go.” He placed her on Lucifer’s back.
“Doona’ move. He’s no’ as tame as Bessie,” he warned her as he put the bridle he’d brought with him onto Bessie. Swinging himself onto his horse, he wrapped an arm around her and felt her stiffen. They traveled in silence, and she slowly relaxed against him. Rory battled his body’s response to her, fought the urge to bury his face in her heatherscented, silky hair, to fil his hands with the weight of her ful breasts. Even reminding himself of her betrayal was of little help, and he hoped she did not feel him harden beneath the curve of her behind. Upon hearing the soft sounds of her snoring, he gave a relieved chuckle. Rory took the long way back to Dunvegan in an attempt to avoid as many of the clan as he could. Anger against Aileanna ran high. Only the morning before he had been confronted by an angry mob seeking vengeance. Old lady Cameron had been quick to shout them down. To Rory’s surprise, Cook and several of the serving girls, along with Janet, Jamie, and the Chisholms came to Aileanna’s de fense, giving him and the others the same tal tale Fergus and Iain tried to feed him. Obviously awaiting his return, Mrs. Mac, Fergus, Iain, and Connor hurried toward him as he entered the courtyard.
“What have you done to her?” Iain cried out.
“Nothin’, brother. She hurt her foot in her attempt to
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escape is al , and obviously exhausted herself while she was at it,” Rory commented wryly when she remained asleep in his arms despite the commotion. Iain reached for her and Rory careful y handed her down to him. Dismounting, he said, “I’l take her now.”
“Nay, I wil —”
“You wil give her to me now,” Rory grated out. His brother looked down into her sleeping face, and shook his head.
“You canna’ put her back in the tower, Rory. I wil na’ al ow it.”
“’Tis my decision, Iain, no’ yers,” he said, reaching for her.
“You doona’ understand, brother, you . . .” Iain shook his head and looked at him, a pained expression on his
