Highland Burn: Guardians of Scotland Book 1 Page 12

  As she looked toward the castle, gauging how far away it was, she noticed about two hundred clansmen on horseback riding toward the village. Thank God help was on the way! But where was Marcus? Dear God, please let him be alive.

  She was retreating into the forest when someone grabbed her by the braid and yanked her into a hard chest.

  “Aren’t ye a pretty one?” A snarl came from the man as he snaked his arm around Abigale’s waist and covered her mouth with his other hand.

  He smelled like a dung heap and ale lingered on his breath. A raider, Abigale thought. She tried to wriggle free. Not wanting to frighten the girls, Abigale held back her screams as panic pricked up her spine. What was this man going to do to her? More important, what was she going to do? She should never have left the safety of the yew tree.

  Abigale hauled-off and kicked at the man in the shins and bit down hard on his hand.

  "You bitch!” he yelled and released her. Shock spread across his scarred, unshaven face. An evil grin crept across his lips. “You better run princess before I catch you again.”

  Not wanting to lead the man to the girls, Abigale turned and ran in the opposite direction. She glanced over her shoulder to find the rogue hot on her heels. God help her! She didn’t know where she was going. Then she tripped over a tree stump. As she turned over and frantically scooted away from the raider, she knew she had lost all hope of getting away safely.

  “Looks like the big bad wolf caught you, wench. Ye’ll pay for wounding me fighting hand.” The man grabbed Abigale’s legs and slid her toward him as he yanked up her dress.

  Abigale tried to kick him off, but he was too strong. As he leaned over her, she clawed at his face, but he slapped her hands away. Then he raised a fist with an evil grin on his face. She blocked the first blow, but he landed a hard slap on her cheek, causing stars to burst behind her eyes. Then another blow followed.

  Abigale slowly opened her eyes to find Abbess Margaret standing over her. “Bastard.” Abigale cowered as she saw the abbess’s raised her fist.

  “Ah, you be the princess everyone is talking about.”

  She looked up to see the wretched man straddling her, untying his dirt-stained trews.

  What was happening? Her head throbbed and her heart raced. Abigale, for God’s sake, do something!

  The man tore the top of her dress. Fighting, Abigale threw her hands over her chest, clasping the torn fabric together. Something poked her hand. The brooch! She had pinned it to her gown before she found the girls.

  Oh, my lady, watch out for the pointy end. ‘Tis sharp. She reached for it. With the pendant in the palm of her hand and the pointy end sticking straight up, she waited to make her move.

  “Ye know, wench, if ye just spread yer legs like a good little girl, this would be over soon.” His mocking laughter and foul breath made her sick.

  With her hand shaking, Abigale stabbed the man in the eye with the pin.

  He screamed in agony, holding his face. “Bitch, ye’ll pay for that.”

  “Let her go!” In disbelief, she watched her husband grab the man by the neck and with one fluid motion, snap his neck. She froze as the man’s body fell to the ground beside her.

  James’s eyes darkened and his face turned sinister as he looked down at Abigale. So, this was what the Black Douglas really looked like. If she could melt into the forest floor, she would. Although he must be angry at her, she was happy to see him.

  James extended a hand and helped her up. “He hit ye?” James cradled her face in his hands and wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth.

  Abigale was silent. She couldn’t believe she’d just stabbed a man. Seeing him lying in a lifeless heap, she said, “Is he dead?”

  “Dinnae look at him, Abigale. Look at me.”

  As soon as she met his amber eyes, she began to crumble. She wrapped her arms around him, desperate for contact, desperate for his protective strength.

  “Did he—”

  Knowing what James was hinting at, Abigale shook her head. “Nay, I stabbed him with the brooch before he had the chance to.”

  They stood there for a while, holding on to one another. Abigale felt James exhale in relief.

  “Are ye alright, lass?” He pulled back so he could see her. “Ye’re shaking.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She brushed the dirt from her dress.

  “Nay.” James put his finger under her chin and tipped it up, making her look at him. “Ye need to talk to me.”

  Abigale took in a deep breath. Aye, she was shaken to the core not just from the attacker but from the abbess. She hadn’t realized how much the nun’s abuse had affected her.

  “Abigale,” James urged.

  “I’m…” Tears burned her eyes. “I’m broken,” she whispered.

  “Broken?” James brows furrowed. “Nay, ye’re perfect in every way, lass.” He pulled her into his arms.

  She wrapped her arms around him, taking in his warmth. No amount of comfort could change who she was. “I am no’ princess. “Tis all a lie.”

  “Abigale, I know yer father. Ye’re a princess.”

  She shook her head and pulled away. “Then why did he leave me? Why did he leave me in the hands of an abusive witch? She hated me.”

  “Who?”

  “Abbess Margaret. She hit me, pulled my hair, called me a bastard. And my father did nothing to stop it.” Abigale wrapped her arms around herself. “I am a bastard.”

  “Abigale.” James grabbed her arms and pulled her close. “Listen to me. Ye’re no’ a bastard. Yer father loves ye verra much. I’m sure if he knew of the abuse he would have stopped it. I give ye my word, Abbesses Margaret will pay for what she did to ye.”

  Abigale shook her head. “’Tis too late. The damage is done. I’m undesirable. If ye want me to leave, I will go. I dinnae want to stay where I’m no’ wanted.”

  James cupped her face. She tried to be strong but one look at James and she fell apart. Tears streamed down her face. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but instead, he leaned down and claimed her lips in a kiss that shook her soul.

  He kissed her gently and lovingly, showing her that he indeed desired her.

  The kiss ended, leaving her breathless and feeling as if she was walking on clouds. Trembling, she touched her lips and looked up at James in disbelief.

  “I dinnae want ye to leave, lass.” He turned on his heels and returned to his horse, leaving Abigale speechless and wee bit dizzy. That kiss opened her eyes, and for the first time since she’d met the Black Douglas, she now saw through his rough warrior demeanor.

  “The girls!” Abigale remembered. She ran toward the yew tree praying they were safe.

  “Abigale!” James ran after her. “Where are ye going?”

  Abigale didn’t answer. She reached the yew tree, and to her relief, the girls were still hidden inside. “Thank God.” She pulled the girls out and wrapped her arms around them.

  “Abigale, what is the meaning of all this?”

  “I found them in the village living in filth. I think they might be abandoned. They are coming home with us.” She cupped the youngest girl’s face and smiled.

  15

  Never mess with a dragon’s woman.

  The ride back to Black Stone was eerily quiet. James rode ahead of his men, holding in his rage. He worked his jaw until his teeth ground together, never once sparing a glance at Abigale, because he didn’t trust himself not to come down hard on the lass. He was holding on by a fraying thread. Plus, he didn't want to lose control in front of his men nor frighten the little girls who rode with his wife.

  If the lass would have just let him explain, she wouldn’t have found herself in the middle of a village raid and…James stopped mid-thought and shook his head. He couldn’t think about what that English filth was going to do to her. God’s wounds, he had ripped the man’s head clear off his shoulders. More like sliced off. With dragon claws!

  Then there was the issue of these wee girls. Where
were their parents?

  As they approached the stables, James’s anger started to boil over as he saw Marcus help Abigale and the girls dismount. James rushed to the great hall. He needed mead.

  Shortly after, Abigale and the girls followed with Rory, Conall, Magnus, and Marcus.

  “What were ye thinking, lass?” He couldn’t stop himself.

  Abigale quickly gave Alice the little girl in her arms. “Ye’ll be safe with Alice,” she said.

  Alice lifted the wee child. "Come along, my sweets.” Alice placed a comforting hand on the eldest girl’s shoulder and guided her upstairs. James was sure that Alice was going to pamper the girls with a warm bath and food.

  “Abigale!” James was furious with her.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath “My laird,” she swallowed. “I went to the village for some fresh air. As ye may recall, I needed some time to think about my new-found knowledge of Bothwell Castle.”

  James towered over her. “Ye wouldn’t have needed fresh air if ye would’ve let me explain."

  Abigale back-stepped until she felt the coldness of the stone wall on her back. James stalked toward her. “I didnae go alone. Marcus was with me,” she meekly replied.

  James turned his head toward Marcus. “And ye thought this was a good idea? Going to the village when there could very well be someone out there wanting me dead?” That thought alone raised his fury to the next level.

  Before Marcus could answer, Abigale interrupted. “James, it’s no’ his fault, he tried to talk me out of it.”

  James braced his large hands on either side of Abigale’s head, trapping her against the wall. Now she was defending Marcus. As if it wasn’t bad enough that she had left Black Stone with another man, now she defended him. James wanted to rip Marcus's heart out and feed it to his dogs. His dragon agreed and begged to be released.

  One thing James was learning fast, don’t mess with a dragon’s woman.

  “I want ye to heed my words carefully, Abigale.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “Ye will no’ leave Black Stone again. Is that clear?” James growled to make his point.

  She ducked beneath his arms. “I will no’ be a prisoner here. I shall come and go as I please.”

  The silence was deafening in the great hall. Everyone awaited his reaction. No one dared to defy a command from the laird.

  Who did this lass think she was? At first, James didn’t know how to respond. If one of his men disobeyed, he showed no mercy—off with their heads. But he couldn’t very well do that to Abigale, though the thought of bending her over his knee and spanking her arse did.

  “Ye do as I say.”

  “And what if I don’t?” Abigale’s cheeks flushed with anger.

  James approached his wife. He grabbed her arms to make a point that he wasn’t taking no for an answer. “If I have to, I’ll lock ye in the bedchamber and tie ye to the bed. I’ll do whatever is necessary to ensure yer safety. Do ye understand me?”

  “James, leave the lass alone. If ye want to place blame, then place it on me.” Marcus stood face-to-face with him. Was this a challenge?

  James stood firm. “She is no business of yers, cousin. I suggest ye back down before someone gets hurt.”

  “Are ye threatening me?”

  James’s jaw ticked. The feelings running through him were foreign to him and he didn’t know how to control them. However, it didn’t help that his dragon was restless and itched for a fight. Jealousy wasn’t an emotion he was used to.

  “Nay, no threat. I’m just curious why the sudden interest in my wife. Do ye want her for yerself?”

  Marcus smirked. “I can no’ deny the fact that she deserves a better man than ye.”

  Before Marcus knew what hit him, James shoved him with such power that Marcus stumbled back. He threw his arms up as if beckoning James to take the first punch. He was not a coward and he didn’t fear his cousin, not by a long shot. “Go ahead, make yer move, Laird Douglas,” Marcus mocked.

  James had had enough. He didn’t quite understand why Marcus was treating him this way. Was he really trying to take Abigale? Oh, James knew damn well what his dragon wanted to do. Shred the bastard. Nay, he would grab ahold of whatever was left of his self-control and be a man and walk away. In time, he would fix things between him and Abigale, because there was no way in bloody hell he would let her go.

  James looked Marcus up and down as if his mere presence disgusted him. Then he walked away.

  “Or are ye a coward like yer da?” Marcus pushed.

  James turned and charged him, spearing his stomach with his right shoulder until his body slammed against the wall. Marcus’s head bounced off the stone with a thud. No fear showed in his cousin’s eyes, only an arrogant gleam. He was mocking him again. Against James’s will, he cocked his right arm back and his massive hand pummeled Marcus’s face. He was going to make damn sure to knock that smirk off his face.

  Abigale shrieked, “Stop it!”

  She rushed over to James and held on to his arm before he could hit Marcus again. James pushed her off and Abigale stumbled back.

  She tried again and stepped in front of James as Rory and Conall grabbed Marcus and escorted him outside. With all her might, Abigale forcefully pushed her hands into James’s solid chest. "That is quite enough!”

  James looked down at her. His chest heaved and his hands were bloodied. The sheer force of his rage had let the dragon out!

  * * *

  Abigale couldn’t quite comprehend what she’d seen. In disbelief, she stared back at James—or who she thought James was. His eyes! No human had eyes that swirled like his. And the thin black slits that centered in his depths. Nay, not human at all. Her hand shook over her mouth to stifle a scream. She shook.

  “Abigale, let me explain.” James took a slow step toward her.

  Abigale backed away. “Don’t come near me.” Her words were barely a shaken whisper.

  Abigale needed to find a way to escape. What type of monster is the Black Douglas? she thought, and what was he going to do with her? There was a beast standing right in front of her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the doors leading to the bailey just a few feet away. Could she make it to those doors and escape before he caught her?

  She turned back around and met his glare. A shiver raced up her spine. Fear took over as she dashed through the great hall and out the doors.

  Relieved to see that Fergus was still in the bailey, she grabbed the reins and hoisted herself into the saddle. Taking off at a full gallop toward the forest, she didn’t know where she was going. All she knew was that she needed to be far away from Black Stone and her monster-of-a-husband.

  16

  Until we meet again…

  Abigale’s heart raced faster and faster with each stride Fergus took. Low-lying branches whipped against her face and scraped her skin as they blindly pushed on. She knew she was pushing Fergus faster than she should, but fear had grabbed ahold of her. The quicker she was away from Black Stone, the better.

  Those eyes…sinister, snake-like slits, continued to play in her mind, causing her to look over her shoulder, paranoid that the Bogeyman followed closely behind.

  Abigale turned back around and focused intently on getting through the glen. Perhaps there would be a village or town nearby where she could stay until she figured out what to do.

  It all happened so fast when Fergus stumbled over a root. Before Abigale could catch her balance, she was thrown to the ground. A rock bit into her ribs as she landed on her stomach.

  Slowly, she got up and fear consumed her as she saw Fergus laying on the ground, breathing hard.

  Abigale clutched her ribs, wincing in pain as she staggered toward Fergus.

  As she got closer, she noticed root of a tree had wrapped around his hind leg. He tried to move as he saw her but couldn’t. Abigale fell to her knees next to his head. “Dinnae fash yerself, my friend. I will get ye out.”

  Abigale tugged on the root, but it wouldn’t bud
ge. Not knowing what else to do, she examined his leg. “No, Fergus.” The bone in his hind leg was protruding though his skin.

  “Fergus, ye have to get up.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. I can no’ lose ye.”

  * * *

  James ran through the great hall to the stables. He mounted his mare and galloped toward the glen. He must find Abigale and make her understand he wasn’t a beast. Damn him for a fool! Why hadn’t he just walked away like he had planned to do? Why had he allowed rage to overcome him? Why had he lost control?

  “Marcus,” he growled. “He’s a dead man.”

  James followed Abigale’s trail through the woods, finding a piece of blue material from her gown stuck to a branch. Abigale.

  When he finally reached her, the sight before him shattered his heart into a million pieces. Abigale sat next to Fergus, sobbing. He jumped off his horse and proceeded with caution. He desperately wanted to go to her, wrap her in his arms, and take away the sorrow he’d caused her. She was frightened and hurt.

  James moved closer. “Lass, we need to talk.”

  Abigale snapped her head up and her body tensed. With a dagger in her shaking hand, she pressed it to her slender neck. “Stay away or I’ll cut my throat.”

  James put his hands up in surrender. “Abigale, I will no’ hurt ye. Please put the dirk down,” he pleaded and stepped closer. Was she that frightened of him that she was willing to cut her own throat?

  Slowly, she stood and scraped the blade against her skin. She’d meant what she said.

  “God’s wounds lass! Put the dirk down and let me explain.” James began to panic; she was serious. His bel ange was beyond afraid; one wrong move and he would be to blame for his wife’s death. He’d better tread softly.