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That stopping had kept her from continuing forward and probably crashing right into the man now frowning in her direction, though she didn't think he could see her. He was just looking in the direction Buchanan's voice was coming from as he shouted her name again, sounding closer.
Murine had been tugging at her gown when the snapping of branches had drawn her attention and she'd peered forward to see something moving through the trees ahead. Giving up on her gown, Murine had instinctively ducked behind the bushes. She'd stared wide-eyed at the approaching darkness in the trees, fighting off a faint, and worrying that it might be a wild boar or some other such animal. A moment later she'd realized it was too tall to be a boar. A heartbeat after that she'd recognized that it was a man, but not one of the Buchanan brothers, and she'd instinctively stayed where she was, waiting for the man to move away before daring to continue on her way herself.
Murine did not have a great deal of travel experience. Most of her life had been spent at Carmichael, but she'd been on a handful of trips in her life and they had mostly seemed a bit tiring, boring and inconvenient . . . until the trip where her brothers had been killed by bandits in the night. She'd been nervous about traveling ever since. Of course, her last trip had not helped to relieve that nervousness. It had been when Montrose had collected her from Sinclair with the news that her father was dead. He'd spent most of their journey to England warning her not to travel far from camp on forays such as this one. He'd reinforced that warning by regaling her with horrible stories of what bandits might do to her, and had seemed to enjoy the telling. Since she'd already lost her brothers to such a raid on their party, she really hadn't needed his warning. Murine had no intention of drawing the attention of the man presently standing with head cocked, listening to the sounds of someone moving through the woods toward them.
When Dougall shouted again, sounding closer still, the man in front of her turned away and headed back in the direction he'd come. Murine watched until he was out of sight, and then straightened abruptly and was alarmed to find the world tilting in front of her. Dammit, she should not have stood so abruptly after such a scare, Murine thought as darkness began to crowd her vision. She thought she heard Dougall's voice behind her just as the light blinked out in her mind.
"What the devil are ye playing at, lass? Why did ye no'--?" Dougall broke off his tirade and caught Murine as she keeled over like a stack of hay bales piled too high. He'd just started to think he would have to go back and get his brothers to help him search the woods when he'd suddenly pushed through a set of bushes and found himself standing directly behind Murine. Irritation had immediately claimed him that she was not unconscious, but had apparently just chosen not to answer and he'd started in on berating her.
Now he peered blankly down at her pale face for a moment, then sighed in resignation and scooped her up. Dougall started to turn back the way he'd come with her then, but couldn't. Something was holding her fast to where he'd found her. A quick glance showed him the problem. Her gown was caught. Rather than set her down, Dougall shifted the hand under her legs to clutch at the material of her gown and gave it a good yank. The action immediately produced a tearing sound.
"Ah, hell," he muttered. Not only was the gown not free, but it had torn up the seam to nearly her hip. He hadn't gathered all the material, Dougall realized with a sigh. Shifting her in his arms, he re-gathered the material and gave it another yank, this time managing what he'd tried to do the first time. She was free. However, there was no way he was taking her back like that. The bottom half of her gown was hanging over his hands, leaving her hip and leg bare. His brothers were already fighting over Murine; he wasn't letting them see her like this.
Kneeling, Dougall set her down, and then shifted to examine the tear, lifting the material slightly and revealing the bottom of a shift and a long, shapely leg from just below the hips down.
"Aye, it's ripped," Dougall said aloud as if that might have been in question. He then just sat there for a moment, staring at what was revealed of her leg, and wondering if he'd go to hell if he lifted the bottom of her shift too for a quick peek of what it hid.
Probably, Dougall decided and knew he should be ashamed of himself for even considering doing such a thing. And he was sure he would be just as soon as her naked leg was no longer blinding him to shame's presence in his heart. With that thought in mind, Dougall caught both flaps of the gown by the bottom corners and then quickly tied them together. It didn't really help much. The material now gathered at hip and ankle, but flapped open all the way between.
"Hmm," he muttered, eyeing the seam. If he just had a way to tie it halfway up, that might make the difference and cover her properly, Dougall thought, and retrieved his sgian-dubh from his belt to begin slicing at the cloth of her gown about halfway up her leg.
Murine woke slowly, something tugging her to consciousness like little hands pulling at her gown. She opened her eyes to see branches all around her. Frowning, she glanced downward, pausing when she recognized Dougall kneeling with his upper body bent over her lower body. She peered at him briefly with confusion, and then glanced farther down to see what he was doing. A squawk of dismay immediately slipped from her lips and she began to drag, and then scramble backward away from him. Murine didn't stop until her shoulders came up against what she thought must be a tree.
When Dougall simply stared after her with surprise and did not pursue her, Murine peered down at the tatters of cloth that had once been the skirt of her gown and asked with horror, "What ha'e ye done?"
"That's what I was about to ask."
Murine stiffened and then glanced to the side to see Conran standing halfway through a bush on the edge of the very tiny clearing Murine and Dougall occupied.
"Ye found her?"
"Is she a'right?"
Those two questions were accompanied by Geordie and Alick pushing their way through the bush on either side of Conran. Both men came to an abrupt halt, though, as they took in the scene before them. Their eyes widened, then narrowed, and their fists clenched, but Conran put up a hand when they both started to move past him.
"Now lads, 'tis sure I am that Dougall can explain why he was tearing the clothes off o' Lady Murine here . . . a fine Scottish lass who bravely fled her home to preserve her virtue and who saved our sweet Saidh's life," he added grimly.
"I was no' tearing off her clothes," Dougall said with disgust, getting to his feet and putting his sgian-dubh away. "I was cutting up her gown."
Conran had to place a hand on the arms of both Geordie and Alick then to keep them in place. Once he was sure they would stay put, he turned back to Dougall and arched an eyebrow. "That is no' helping to convince us that ye ha'e Lady Murine's best interests at heart."
"Nay, I can see that," he said dryly. "And ye ken me well enough ye should know better. I'd ne'er abuse a woman under me care."
All three men seemed to look a little less ruffled at that, Murine noticed, and scowled at them for it. She then turned a glare onto Dougall and said sharply, "I, however, do no' ken ye and would appreciate an explanation as to why ye were cutting me gown to pieces, if ye do no' mind."
"Because I tore it and--by accident," he interrupted himself to add quickly when her anger turned to alarm again.
"I found ye just as ye fell into one o' yer faints. I caught ye ere ye hit the ground, but when I went to head back to camp, yer gown was caught," Dougall said, sounding almost resentful that he was having to explain at all.
Murine relaxed a little and nodded. Her gown had been caught.
"I gave it a tug thinking to free it, but instead . . ." He grimaced and gestured to the strips of her gown. "It split right up the seam to . . . well, verra high," he muttered, and then pointed out, "Well, I could no' take ye back to camp like that, could I?"
Apparently that was a rhetorical question, because Dougall didn't wait for an answer, but continued, "So I set ye down and tied the ends of each flap together. But yer gown still gaped from the ankle
up, so I thought to fix it."
"By cutting it to pieces?" she asked with disbelief.
"Nay," he snapped. "I thought to slice a strip in the center on each side and tie it together too, but there still seemed a lot o' gaping in between, so I was making strips all along the seam, intending to tie it together all the way up."
Murine glanced down at the horizontal strips in her gown and shook her head sadly. It had been her favorite dress, made from the material Joan had given her back when they'd first met. Fingering the ragged strips, she said sadly, "If ye'd only just waited fer me to wake, I might ha'e been able to save the gown."
"Well, I could no' carry ye around like that," Dougall said with a frown. "And I could no' wait all day fer ye to wake up from yer faint either."
Murine stiffened and pointed out, "It would no' ha'e been all day, though, would it."
"Well, I did no' ken that," he muttered, shifting impatiently. "Yesterday ye stayed in yer first faint all afternoon, and yer second one all night."
"I did no'," she denied at once and got to her feet. Bending then, Murine began to tie the strips of cloth together as she explained, "I woke up several times on the journey here, but ye were squeezing me so tight I could no' get air and kept losing consciousness again."
"Ye did stay in yer faint last night, though," Conran pointed out quietly.
"Aye, well, I ha'e no' eaten since yester morn," she muttered without looking up from her task. "I do no' think I stayed in me faint so much as I just slept through the night from exhaustion and lack o' food."
"Well, there ye go!" Alick exclaimed. "That's why ye're fainting. Ye need to eat."
"We should get ye back to camp and feed ye then," Conran muttered and moved to her side to kneel and begin helping her with the ties. He was quickly joined by Geordie and Alick. Murine straightened to get out of the way and simply stared helplessly as the three men crowded around her side trying to tie the ties their brother had created.
"God's teeth!" Dougall muttered suddenly and strode over to urge them out of the way. He then scooped up Murine from the side with the strips so that the undamaged side of her gown faced out and turned to start through the underbrush.
"You're angry?" she asked curiously as she eyed his grim expression. It seemed obvious he was angry, and while it normally would have made her anxious to be carted about by an angry bear of a man, Murine found she wasn't at all afraid of him . . . and had no idea why.
She was puzzling over that when he said, "Aye."
Murine considered him briefly and then asked, "At me?"
