Page 41 of At the Highlander's Mercy
But first he pushed the hood of the cloak back and tangled his hands in her glorious hair. Easing her towards him, he tilted down and touched his mouth to hers. She sighed at the contact and he breathed it in. Her lips opened to him and he sought to possess her mouth. She was ravenous in returning the kisses, giving as good as she got, until they broke away, breathless and panting.
‘Why did you not tell me the truth?’ he asked, kissing his way down her chin to her neck. ‘How? How were you still untouched?’ Rob paused and met her gaze. Pain lay there. Embarrassment. Humiliation. Shame. Then she turned her gaze away.
‘Iain did not wish to,’ Lilidh began to explain, but her voice shook and her lips trembled. ‘I displeased him.’
‘Did he tell you that?’ he asked, lifting her chin so he could see her eyes. ‘What did he say?’
She pulled free of him then, turning around, taking a step away and then facing him, as though arguing this through in her head and changing her mind with every thought. He grabbed her shoulders to stop her.
‘Just tell me what he said to you.’
‘He said nothing. Not a word. He just never touched me. He would come to our bed and sleep and leave in the morning. No matter if I was willing, if I offered...’ She gasped, then looked horrified at what she’d admitted to him. Then she said something that made his blood boil and the urge to kill rise in his veins. ‘My father said I should not expect him to...because of my...injury.’
‘Lilidh, listen to me,’ he said softly, easing his grip on her, but drawing her closer. ‘I was a fool to say such things to you. Iain was a fool. Your—’
He stopped himself before revealing exactly what role her father had played in these matters. Clearly, Connor had overstepped, but Lilidh adored him and would be further devastated to discover his role in these private and humiliating débâcles. Rob would not be the one to ruin that for her after he’d ruined her life already.
If there was one thing he could do for her before sending her back to her family, it would be to let her know that she was not unwanted or unlovable. Her injury was no worse and better even than many battle injuries he’d seen. The healer never said it would change her life in any way, except for the pain that she would have to endure. So, why did her father use it against her as much as he had?
She shivered under his hands and Rob knew he should return her to the warmth before the good of walking was undone.
‘Come,’ he said, turning her around towards the doorway. ‘Let us—’
It happened so fast, he had no time to react or resist.
Lilidh screamed, pushing him away and twisting her body. He felt the piercing, burning pain, but not the weapon or the enemy. Had Lilidh struck him? The force of it threw him against the wall of the tower and his head hit the stones.
Everything began to swirl around him, the dark, the light, Lilidh, screams, yelling until he could do nothing but follow the darkness down.
The last thing he did was to grab hold of her cloak.
‘She is mine,’ he called out.
Then...darkness.
Chapter Seventeen
Lilidh saw it only at the last moment. Too late to keep him from harm. She’d pushed Rob as the bolt whooshed towards them, but not hard or far enough. But the impact took him the rest of the way down and his head hit the wall.
She screamed for the guards, screamed out his name and then tried to get to him from where she’d fallen. Of all the times for her leg to fail her! Then he grabbed her cloak with his bloody hand. His men reached them then, pulling her to her feet and trying to drag her away from him.
‘She is mine,’ Rob rasped out. Then, horribly, he lost consciousness and his hold on her.
Tomas took charge then, calling out orders to this one and that, and soon she found herself carried over someone’s shoulder down to Rob’s chambers. Rob was half-carried, half-dragged in and placed on the smaller bed that was more easily approached. When she went to try to see to his wound, wherever it was, another guard pulled her away with an order to remain sitting.
With another bulky man standing between her and Rob, she could see nothing. Several servants arrived, including Beathas, to whom she called out. Everyone ignored her except the guard Ranald, who blocked her from rising from the chair. Tugging her cloak off, she waited for some sign that he was not dead.
Who had done this? Were they aiming at Rob or at her? Who would have known they would be up on the battlements, or had this been a random attack, one foreshadowing her father’s arrival? She thought on the path of the bolt and where they would have been if she’d not reacted at the last moment. Who was their target?
‘It came from the north forest, Tomas.’ She said it loudly enough to be heard over the cacophony of voices and orders echoing in the chamber. ‘Search the north.’
Then, a terrible thing happened—the door opened and a tearful, sobbing Lady Tyra came running in, with several maids following. Sparing a fleeting glance in her direction, Tyra ran to Rob’s side—and no one stopped her. She was his betrothed, after all, with more standing here than Lilidh had. And, as the future lady here, respect paid to her now would be a well-spent thing.
‘Rob! Rob! Speak to me,’ she cried out, falling to her knees at his side. ‘Beathas, where was he struck?’
Clearly she’d been abed when the news arrived to her, for she wore only a shift with a bed robe over it. Her hair flowed around her like a fiery curtain as she moved, the flames in the hearth reflecting off the red and gold hues in her hair.
Before Beathas or anyone could answer her, a loud curse rent the chamber. ‘Dear God, get off me!’
