His Bonnie Bride by Hannah Howell (the beginning after the end read novel .TXT) 📕

of endangering her, but those at Hagaleah now would be slow due to unreadiness.

Tavis handed her a blanket, watching quietly as she rolled herself up in it, pillowing her head upon the moss as the men did. He then wrapped himself up in his plaid and lay down beside her, his sword away from her but near at hand. She was an uncomplaining captive, but he did not doubt that she would try to escape if given half a chance. He fixed his gaze upon the gentle curves of her blanketed form and his eyes were slow in closing.

Thoughts of escape were indeed in Storm's mind, but she could see that her chance would not come yet. A part of her was glad, for the idea of trying to get back to Hagaleah alone in the dark was terrifying. She sighed silently, wishing she were a man, for then she would only face ransoming. Then, too, she would have been better equipped to plot escape, manage it and elude her captors. As she began to close her eyes a movement in the forest just beyond caught her notice. She stiffened for she feared she knew what it was.

Like some specter and with as little noise, the small figure crept over to her. It was at her side when Tavis suddenly sprang to his feet, his sword raised. With a small cry and no thought to her own safety, Storm placed herself between Tavis and her cousin Phelan.

"Do not harm him. 'Tis but a boy." She saw that the other men had roused quickly, ready for battle.

Tavis did not put away his sword, but he held it less threateningly. "I can see that. Who is he?"

"Phelan O'Conner," the boy replied in a clear child's voice that held no fear.

"How come ye here?" Tavis was noting the bright hair and odd eyes so like Storm's.

"I followed Storm to the glade. Ye should ne'er go out alone," he scolded her. "When ye took her I followed ye. I thought I could aid her to escape," he said flatly, his shoulders sagging with the weight of failure.

"Ye followed us on foot? Alone?" Tavis was duly impressed by such a feat.

"Aye. Ye were not traveling at a very fast pace," the boy replied with the air of one unaware that he had done anything worthy of note. "I left when ye did so I know not what they do at Hagaleah."

"What is this boy to you?" Tavis asked Storm.

"My cousin from my mother's kin in Ireland."

Tavis told his men to return to their rest, fetched another blanket and tossed it to Phelan. "I would send ye home, but I ken ye'd nay go. Better to keep ye with us than to have ye yapping at our heels. Ere ye bed down for the night, laddie, I'll be having that knife ye have tucked in your boot."

"I would ne'er kill a sleeping man. 'Twould be cowardly," Phelan said as he handed over the knife.

" 'Tis a comfort to know that, but I prefer ye unarmed. Get some rest, laddie."

When they were again settled Tavis listened to the cousins' whispered conversation. At times he was hard put not to laugh out loud. He did not want the boy along, but he knew there would be no keeping the child away from Storm. It was his fervent hope that there would be no others showing up.

"I had hoped to rescue ye, cousin."

"Not to worry, Phelan. Mayhaps next time."

Silence reigned for a moment before Phelan said, "Are ye feeling a bit cold, cousin?"

Storm bit her lip to stop her laughter, unknowingly mimicking Tavis, for she knew it was not the cold that made the boy wish to be nearer. "Aye. 'Tis a bit sharp. What do ye suggest?"

With the air of one making a sacrifice, Phelan replied, "We could huddle a bit closer for warmth."

"An excellent idea. Come along then." She let the boy snuggle up to her, the back of him fitting closely to the front of her. "That is much better. Good sleep, cousin."

"Good sleep to ye as well."

"I am glad ye are here," she said softly and meant it, for even though he was but a child he was family, and somehow that made things seem less bleak.

Chapter Four

Caraidland burst into life when the raiding party rode up, their bounty on the hoof very welcome after a long winter. Storm sat before Tavis upon his stallion and watched her father's stock praised and sorted out. Knowing how easily that vital stock had been gained by the MacLagans was yet another grievance to lay at Lady Mary's door. Despite her years at Hagaleah, the woman still failed to really understand the way of things. For that misjudgment the people who worked her father's lands would have less food in their bellies. Storm knew that would not bother Lady Mary at all.

Tavis dismounted, helped Storm down and left her standing next to her cousin with Angus to keep a close eye on them. He always saw to the stabling of his mount himself. After a last quick glance at Storm, who looked tiny next to the stocky, muscular Angus, he turned his attention to caring for his horse.

"They surely did well for themselves," Phelan remarked softly.

"They surely did. Some of our best stock. T'will mean a few less lambs, a few less calves, a few less of everything, for one loss leads to another. Lord, but I wish my father had not gone away from Hagaleah."

" 'Tis not his fault, cousin. How could he know what would happen? He believed your steward worthy of his trust. 'Tis not his fault that the man's a lecherous bastard who's easily led by his ..."

"Phelan!" Storm cried, cutting off the boy's too candid commentary, and then she flicked a quelling glance at Angus, who quickly turned his laughter into a fit of coughing.

"Sorry, cousin, but sometimes I forget ye are a lady."

"I suppose that is a compliment," she murmured, her