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Conran raised his eyebrows. "Are we takin' her with us then?"
"Well, we can hardly leave her here by the side o' the road in her state, can we?" he pointed out with exasperation. "We'll carry her with us until she wakes."
"And then what?" Conran asked, eyes narrowed.
"And then we'll ask where she's heading and if 'tis on our way, we shall escort her there," he decided with a small frown. The woman was turning out to be a bit of trouble and he wasn't happy about that.
"And if where she is going is no' on our way?" Conran asked. "Or what if we've carried her right past where she was headed?"
"Then we'll deal with that at the time," Dougall said with forced patience, and then added irritably, "Right now, I'd jest be well pleased if ye'd get yer arses in gear and yer horses moving."
"All right, no need to holler," Conran said soothingly. "'Tis obvious the lass has set ye aback." He glanced around and then asked, "What about her cow?"
Grimacing, Dougall glanced at the beast and shrugged. "Leave it behind. It'll most like return to the keep. Then mayhap they'll think she took a tumble and'll waste days searching Danvries's woods fer her."
"But then she'll have naught to ride when she regains her wits," Conran pointed out.
"Then she'll have to ride with me, will she no'?" he asked dryly.
"Aye, but what if her travels lead her away from us. She can hardly follow her own plans with no beast to ride."
"'Tis a cow, Conran," he pointed out with disgust. "No one with all their faculties would ride a cow anyway." Sighing impatiently, he shook his head. "I shall supply her with a horse. We've two spare with us right now anyway."
"Two fine beasts worth a pretty coin or two," Conran pointed out sharply. "Ye can no' be thinking--"
"I'm thinkin' I'm tired o' listening to ye bend me ear and am eager to be off," Dougall snapped. "Do what ye like with the cow, but we are continuing on now."
He put his heels to his mount, sending it into a gallop that had Lady Danvries bouncing around in his lap like a sack of wheat. Muttering under his breath, Dougall slowed the beast and rearranged her before setting out again. But he found himself glancing down repeatedly at the woman in his arms, wondering what she would have done had he agreed to the trade with her brother. Had she been offered and used thusly before? That thought hadn't occurred to him ere this and now that it had, it angered him for some reason. He grimly turned his attention to the path ahead and urged his mount to move faster. But he also tightened his hold on the woman to ensure she wasn't bounced out of his lap in the process.
Chapter 2
The sounds of male laughter, talking and movement stirred Murine from sleep. Turning on her back, she inhaled a deep draught of air, relieved to be able to do so. It seemed like forever since she'd managed that. She'd woken half a dozen times throughout the day to find herself caught tight to a man's chest and unable to catch a deep breath. Each time it had caused panic to rush through her and that, combined with the lack of air, had sent her back into unconsciousness again. This time, however, she was no longer in the warm airless cocoon she'd woken to so many times before. In fact, she was a bit chilly, Murine noted with a frown, and opened her eyes to the night sky.
A loud burst of laughter caught her attention, and she turned her head on the ground to peer at the dark figures silhouetted against a small fire. The men were all large, and definitely Scots, she realized as she noted their dress. The men who had hidden her from her brother's soldiers, she guessed. Certainly, she was quite sure it had been their leader who had held her so tightly on his horse. She didn't think he'd deliberately been trying to squeeze the breath from her, and fortunately, she hadn't died as she'd feared more than once as she'd awoken only to find consciousness slipping away again, sucked from her by the lack of air.
The laughter died down, and Murine tore her glance from the men to peer about. She was lying in front of a large tree, its trunk at her back. Somewhere beyond it in the darkness, she could hear the unmistakable sounds of horses moving about, and of course before her were the men and their fire, but everywhere else seemed so dark she could have believed she'd gone blind. It was a cloudy night, obviously, the fire giving the only light, which was a pity, really, because she had a terrible need to relieve herself.
Grimacing, Murine cautiously sat up, and then eased to her feet, a little surprised to find she was a bit light-headed. But then she hadn't eaten since morning. Between that and being starved for breath all day, she supposed she shouldn't be surprised. Reaching out, she pressed a hand to the tree to steady herself until the worst of the light-headedness passed, then moved quietly and carefully into the darkness to her left, reaching out blindly with her hands as she went. She was pretty sure the horses were to her right, but it was easy to get confused in such utter darkness and she didn't want to stumble under the horses, give them a scare and end up trampled.
Much to her relief, rather than bumping up against the warm shoulder, flank or buttock of a horse, she came to a halt when her hand flattened itself against the bark of another tree. Murine let out a little breath and felt her way around the tree until the fire was out of sight. Unwilling to go further and get lost in the darkness, she then hitched up her gown and squatted where she stood, a little sigh slipping through her lips. It was followed by a startled shriek as something warm and wet nudged her nose and cheek. In the next moment, Murine toppled over on the ground.
The men all fell silent as a scream rent the night air. Dougall turned his head, instinctively seeking out Lady Danvries where he'd laid her at the base of the tree behind them. She was no longer there.
Cursing, he grabbed the cool end of a burning log from the fire and stood even as his brothers did. Using the log as a makeshift torch, he started toward the tree, walking around it in the direction he thought the scream had come from. Off to the left of the horses he thought, slowing as her voice came to him muffled through the darkness.
"Oh, Henry! Fer heaven's sake ye scared the wits from me. Leave off with yer silly kisses now and let me be."
Dougall came to a halt. Henry? Kisses? Did the lady Danvries have a lover she'd ridden off on her cow to meet? If so, the man must have followed them and waited until they were distracted to creep up to her. It seemed she was not as innocent as she looked, he thought and was unaccountably disappointed by the knowledge.
Mouth tightening, he started determinedly forward, only to stop a moment later as his torch lit up a scene he'd not soon forget. Lady Danvries lay on her side in the grass, fending off a cow who stood over her, trying to lick her face as if it were a tasty treat. Nay, a bull, he corrected himself dryly as he took note of the horns as the bull stopped trying to lash her with its large tongue and raised its glaring eyes to him.
"Looks like her bull followed us," Conran commented behind him with amusement and Dougall glanced around to see that all three of his brothers had followed him and were grinning at the sight Lady Danvries made.
"Oh, m'laird." Lady Danvries scrambled to her feet, clasping one horn of her bull to manage it, then quickly brushed down her skirts before facing him with a pained expression. "I was just . . ." She waved vaguely to the woods, and he thought she might be blushing, though it was hard to tell in this light.
"Rolling about on the ground with yer cow," he suggested, feeling a smile trying to tug his lips wide.
"Certainly not," she said with dignity. "Besides, Henry is a bull." She turned then to caress the beast's snout as if to soothe any insult he had taken from being called a cow. "I raised him from a bairn. He was small and the stable master did no' think he'd survive, but I took him into the castle and tended him meself and he is growing into a fine big beast."
"Are ye mocking us?" Conran asked suddenly, stepping up beside Dougall, irritation on his face.
Lady Danvries frowned slightly. "Nay. I really did raise him meself, and he really is a bull."
"No' about the bull, lass. With yer speech," Dougall said quietly, knowing what had caused Conran's quer
y. He hadn't noticed until his brother asked the question, but the woman was speaking with a Scots brogue. Seeing her bewilderment, he explained, "Ye're English, but mimicking our speech, Lady Danvries."
Her eyes widened at the suggestion and she drew herself up proudly. "I'm no' English. And me name is no' Danvries. Montrose Danvries is me half brother. I'm Lady Murine Carmichael. Me father was Beathan, laird of clan Carmichael."
"Murine Carmichael?" Conran breathed as if she was one of the world's finest wonders, a sentiment Dougall completely understood as he realized just who he was staring at.
It was Alick who said, "Our Saidh's Murine?"
Murine glanced to him sharply. "Saidh Buchanan? Ye ken her?"
"Ken her?" Geordie echoed with amusement. "Aye, ye could say that."
"We're her brothers," Alick announced. "I'm Alick Buchanan, and these are me older brothers Geordie, Conran and Dougall."
"Oh," Murine breathed, relief pouring over her face. Her expression then turned to startled alarm, however, when Alick suddenly launched himself forward and grabbed her up in an exuberant hug that lifted her off the ground.
"Thank ye, thank ye, thank ye," he crooned happily, swinging her around.
"Leave off, Alick. Ye'll make her dizzy swinging her about like that," Geordie growled and then stepped up to take his place when Alick set her back down. He too hugged her, lifting her off the ground to do so, but he didn't swing her about. He merely lifted her up in his arms and probably squeezed the breath out of her as he rumbled, "Thank ye, lass. We can ne'er repay ye fer what ye did fer us."
"Oh," Murine repeated weakly, patting Geordie's back uncertainly and looking confused. She obviously had no idea what the men were thanking her for.
The moment Geordie set her carefully back on her feet, Conran stepped forward to take his place.
