The Hawk (Highland Guard #2)(115)

Erik’s gaze shot to his, suspecting what the king was suggesting. “Aye,” he said carefully. “I believe the lady helped her father after her mother died.”

Bruce leaned forward. “I’d wager he’d forgive her just about anything.” He paused reflectively. “Two daughters married to Scots might make that blind eye of his doubly so; what do you think?”

Erik stilled. The king’s meaning was clear. The “mission” he was suggesting was an alliance to marry Ellie—even if it meant clandestinely. Bruce thought Ulster would forgive her.

If he’d been waiting for Bruce’s support, he had it.

But Erik knew he would have gone even without it. The weeks of torture were at an end. He’d made a mistake; he knew that. He just hoped to hell he could arrive before she made a worse one—one that was irrevocable.

When he thought of how badly he’d hurt her …

He winced, thinking how he’d let her think that he didn’t love her. That he meant to return to the woman at the feast. Some of the panic returned. What if she refused to talk to him? Ellie could be stubborn. What if she didn’t forgive him? His stomach dropped. What if she wouldn’t change her mind?

He couldn’t let that happen.

He smiled, his first genuine smile in a long time. He would just have to make sure they had some time alone, where he could make it up to her and prove how he felt. He knew just the place.

He turned to Bruce. “I need to leave immediately.”

Bruce returned his smile. “I thought you might.”

He paused, thinking of Ellie’s stubbornness. “It might take me a few days.”

Bruce laughed. “I think it might take you longer than that. You have two weeks. Make good use of your time.”

Erik grinned. “I intend to—every minute of it.”

This was one mission where he was going to make damn sure nothing went wrong.

* * *

It was a crisp, sunny summer’s morning. A perfect day for a wedding. Ellie watched her reflection in the looking glass as the maidservant finished brushing out her hair.

She smiled, if not happy, then at least content with how her life had progressed in the past couple of months. She’d made the right decision and was getting on with her life.

She’d even stopped looking out the window.

By the time the maid was putting the finishing touches on her hair—an intricate arrangement of curls fastened with a jeweled circlet—and had finished pinning her into the fine dark-emerald damask gown she would wear to the wedding, the sun was streaming full force into her window.

A dark shadow passed over her, making her glance toward the window. Seeing nothing, she figured it must have been a cloud.

“Is there anything else, my lady?” the maid asked.

Ellie shook her head, admiring the girl’s work. She smiled wistfully. She looked almost pretty. “Nay, why don’t you see if Lady Mathilda needs anything.”

The maid bobbed and made her exit.

The door had barely shut when Ellie found herself grabbed from behind. A strong hand covered her mouth before she could scream.

“Shush,” he whispered in her ear, pressing her more firmly against him. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Ellie’s heart dropped, recognizing the voice, the familiar windblown, soapy scent, and every hard ridge of the muscular arms and chest holding her.

Erik.

But what was he doing here? More important, how had he gotten here?

Good God! He had to have come through the tower window—a good forty feet above the cliff, and a hundred additional feet above the water below.

I’m not going to hurt you. She’d heard that before.

She tried to wrench free, elbowing him in the stomach to little effect. The granite-hard body didn’t yield an inch.

“Promise you won’t yell?” he whispered.

She nodded, and he let her go. Only to snap his hand back across her mouth when she opened her mouth to scream.

He made a tsk-tsk sound. “I thought you might be unreasonable, but fortunately I came prepared.”

He dangled a couple of thin bands of silk before her eyes. “I had hoped the next time I tied you up it would be under different circumstances.” Her eyes widened with outrage, but he only chuckled. “Sorry, lass, but we need to talk and I can’t take the chance of your not listening to reason. You can caterwaul all you want once we are away from here.”

Reason? When he was about to abduct her for the second time? And she didn’t caterwaul.

After deftly managing to replace his hand with the silk, he bound her hands. Unfurling the plaid from around his shoulders, he pulled a burlap sack from his belt and gave her an apologetic grimace. “As we can’t go out the way I came in, I’m afraid this is necessary.”

When she realized what he was going to do she tried to back away, but he caught her by the waist and dropped the sack over her head. She squirmed and kicked at him like a banshee, but he tossed her over his shoulder as if she were an unruly sack of flour, wrapping the plaid around his shoulders to cover her legs.

So much for her hair and finery. Of all the …

She was infuriated by his brutish treatment, but couldn’t help wondering why he was doing this.

Only one answer made sense, but she wasn’t going to fall into that trap again of letting herself believe that he cared for her.