Page 42 of The Beast of the Highlands
The boots trudged across the floorboards, though no one said a word. Presumably, the leader of these soldiers was wondering who to punish next, for losing their biggest game. It was like narrowly missing a huge stag with one’s arrow, and watching it disappear into the woodland.
“What do we do now?” another voice asked. Flynn could not remember how many men had attacked him, but there had been at least eight.
The leader harrumphed. “We retreat, and we get out of these woods as quickly as possible. If Laird MacLennan has reached the castle already, there will be riders and dogs after us within the hour.”
“Yes, sir!” came a chorus of soldiers.
With that, the percussion of footfalls moved across the floorboards, followed by the sound of the hut’s door slamming. It sent another flurry of dust and dirt down into the store hole, but none of its three cramped inhabitants moved a muscle. Evidently, they all knew this might be a ruse to smoke them out of their hiding spot.
Indeed, they waited for what felt like an eternity. All the while, Flynn’s body pulsed and throbbed with the agony of his injuries, made worse by his tight hold of Autumn. But he refused to loosen his grip. He would have suffered endless torment if it meant he could keep her in his arms.
“I’ll go and investigate,” Desmond whispered. “I’ll signal if it’s safe.”
“Nay, I’ll go,” Flynn tried to protest, but Desmond swiftly put an end to it.
“Ye’re beaten up and ye’ve likely broken a rib, at the least. I willnae have ye makin’ yerself worse, M’Laird.”
Flynn puffed air between his lips. “Aye… very well.”
A shadow rose up into a standing position and used the wooden pegs that had been driven into the earth to clamber up to the hatch above. As Desmond pushed it open, a shaft of light spilled downward, granting Flynn the glimpse of Autumn’s face that he had prayed for when he thought Death was coming for him.
“Lass… och, lass. I feared I wouldnae see ye again.” He tilted her chin upward and pressed his lips tentatively to hers.
She kissed him back, though not with the usual intensity. And he was grateful for her care, for his lip still stung where it had been split by a blow.
“I thought you were dead,” she murmured, pulling back. “I walked through the door and saw you and… I felt my world crumbling. And then Desmond told me there were men coming, and… foolish as it sounds, there was a part of me that was glad. For if you had died, I would not want to go on living without you.”
Flynn smoothed a mussed strand of hair out of her face. “Ye must never say that, lass. Nay matter what happens to me, ye must always go on livin’. Though I suppose that makes me a hypocrite, since I wouldnae want to live without ye.”
“Let us pray we never have to experience that,” she urged, kissing him again, and looping her arms around his neck.
He pulled her to him, not caring how much it hurt. And his wounded lips found their hunger again, as they moved against hers in a frenzied, desperate rhythm. Her hands grasped his face, their kiss deepening as though they had been apart for a lifetime, and this was their blissful reunion.
“I will stay by your side for as long as our destiny allows it,” she said, breaking away for a moment. “However, with Keira here, I feel our time together may be shorter than I would like, for… I can never be your mistress. Perhaps dreaming of a future was futile.”
He paused, his heart aching. “Nay! Ye’ll always be me wife. Me only wife. And one day, we’ll bind ourselves together in the eyes of God, as well as in our hearts.” He kissed her slowly, reveling in the moment. “We should marry soon, in secret.”
Autumn froze, pushing against his chest. “That is madness, Flynn. Laird Dunn has his men in your castle. If you do not marry Lady Keira, he might take drastic action.”
“I said I’d wed that harpy, aye, but I never said when,” he replied, with a smile. “As long as we keep our marriage secret, I’ll just keep her waitin’ and waitin’ until she gives up. And Laird Dunn might have his men in me castle, but I’ve got the greater numbers, and they willnae hesitate to defend me and the clan.”
In truth, Flynn knew itwasmadness, but he had spent all of his life being careful and considerate in his actions. He had never been reckless or wild. And it had taken unconsciousness, and a threat of death, to make him realize that he would regret it eternally if he did not marry Autumn properly.
Autumn gingerly touched a bruise above his eyebrow. “Let us speak of this again when you are healed, my love. I fear that you have taken a knock to the head, and it has clouded your judgment.”
“Nay, lass, it has made me see sense for the first time in me life,” he replied, urging her face back down so he could kiss her again.
She melted into his embrace, their mouths picking up a familiar, sensual rhythm that made Flynn’s heart thud with joy. It was the greatest way of soothing his pains, for her kiss, her touch, her closeness was a formidable salve.
Just as her breaths began to grow ragged, the loud hoot of an owl pierced their private moment. Desmond’s signal.
“I think that means we have to go, lass,” Flynn murmured, though he would happily have remained in the gloom with his beloved.
She nodded and got to her feet, while he followed suit. Standing behind her, he helped her up the wooden pegs that served as a ladder, and mustered a sneaky grin as she bundled up her skirts in her hand, giving him a glimpse of her shapely, smooth thighs. It would have been wrong of him not to place a hand upon her backside, to push her through the hatch.
Ye’re a wonder, lass. Even broken and bruised, ye daenae fail to get me blood racin’.
Once she was out of the hatch, he climbed up and stooped to catch his breath. Looking around the dim hunting hut, where only one candle remained flickering, he noticed the patches of blood on the ground. They did not belong to him, and the realization pleased him. Those soldiers had expected an easy catch, but he had never gone down easily.
