Highlander Enchanted(52)
“I do.” He was at the window, leaning out.
“What do you do?”
“Planning our escape.”
“But … why?”
He strode to the bed and hefted the rope. Kneeling, he began tying one end around the thick base of the four-poster bed. “I declare war on him come dawn. ‘Tis best not to be here when I do, no?” Amusement was in his voice.
Startled by the admittance, she stared at him.
He glanced up then back, gaze lingering on her. “I canna cast out the Macdonald’s. I ‘ave seen it done before, in the Holy Lands. I doona wish their blood on my hands,” he explained quietly. “Father Adam told me of the writ granting ye the MacCosse lands. My clan and the MacDonald’s travel there now.”
“He read all my writs?”
“He did.”
She turned away. Was she relieved he knew her true birth or terrified what he meant to do with the knowledge? She loved the man who raised her and the brother who always loved her. For the world to know of her true parentage was to besmirch the name of Saxony and those she loved.
“You cannot reveal what you know to anyone,” she whispered. “Please.”
“I willna.”
“I do not understand you,” she said, perplexed by his many sides. “You could use what is in those writs to obtain the gold you need.”
“I wish only for a home for my kin, Lady Cade. The writ granting ye the lands is on its way to the Scottish Crown. Ye ‘ave allies I need.”
She knew not how to respond. Cade was too unlike Richard, and the other nobles she knew, for her to understand how he thought. What was clear: he was going to protect her along with his clan and use the secret of her birth to do it.
“And ye? How did ye fall into Laird Duncan’s hands?” He stood and went to the window, flinging the rope out.
Grateful to discuss another matter, she told him briefly, not expecting his full attention to be on her when she finished.
“And ye would marry this man?” he demanded, a flash of darkness in his gaze.
“I did not flee Saxony only to find you,” she pointed out archly. “I always knew I did not wish to wed him but feared refusing him.”
He snatched his sword and strapped it to his back. “I ‘ave time t’kill him before we go.” He strode past her, bristling once more with the charged energy. Thunder rippled through the dark skies outside the window.
“No,” she said and caught his arm.
He turned on her, fire in his gaze and fists clenched.
Isabel released him and stepped back, alarmed by the change in him. “If you kill him beneath Laird Duncan’s roof, you will be at war before we can escape.”
He looked from her to the door.
“Please,” she added uncertainly. She gripped the pendant and touched him tentatively, afraid of his reaction. “Cade.”
He rolled his shoulders back, and tension left his frame. “Verra well.”
Relieved the danger had passed, she dropped her hand.
He motioned to the clothing draped over one of her arms.
Isabel retreated to the dressing screen in a corner and did so. The thick, wool dress would protect her from the winds of the Highlands and the oiled cloak repel the drizzle, assuming Cade remained in control of his emotions on their journey home. When she was finished, she left the screen to see him at the window again. She allowed herself to examine his body once more, disturbed by the combination of lust and fear bubbling within her.
“The wedding contract must be sent to my uncle,” she said quietly. “He will know how to handle it.”
He shrugged.
“And … he will be required to send what aid you ask him for. Gold, or if you order it, the knight guard of Saxony.”
“I doona invite more English t’my lands.”
“They are Saxony’s, which makes them yours.”
He shook his head.
Isabel was quiet, suspecting he had no insight into the size and wealth her father had commanded. Cade was driven by the need to help his people, not to amass lands.
“How much gold?” he asked.
“How much do you want?” she returned.
He laughed. “My weight in coins!”
“He or my stewart will send it.”
Cade faced her. “Ye seek t’deceive me, Lady Cade.”
“I do not.”
He folded his hands across his chest. “Yer a woman of many secrets, Lady Cade.”
“’Tis a secret only to you how wealthy I am.” She lifted her chin.
“I doona speak of gold. How came ye t’have a writ with the King of England’s seal?”
“Does it matter, what secrets may remain, if your people are safe?”
“It shouldna,” he agreed. “But it does.”
“My secrets are more dangerous than yours,” she told him.
He lifted his eyebrows. “Black Cade may not agree.” His intent gaze left her fevered once more.
“Black Cade has not carried treasonous writs with him through two countries!”
A smile turned up the corner of his mouth. “Ye will reveal this, Lady Cade.”
“I cannot.”
“I canna protect ye if I doona ken all I must about ye and what danger ye bring t’my kin.”