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

Convincing Agnes that Tavis was what she wanted was the way to ease the girl's worry that she would return to take Sir Hugh. Giving free rein to her love, Storm proceeded to do just that, blissfully unaware that Tavis stood close by, listening to every word with a mixture of amusement and longing, a longing for it to be the truth and not just a fine cozening act. Phelan bit back a smile as he listened. He knew it all for the truth but would never say so.

" 'Tis just where I plan to go and quickly, before they are filled with another."

"Do not seek to cozen me. The man will not welcome ye back. He'll have plenty to amuse him."

"Unlike Sir Hugh, Tavis MacLagan shares but one bed at a time. An I return quickly, he'll not have replaced me yet. The halls of Caraidland are not filled with his bedmates as Hagaleah's are with Hugh's."

"Ye cannot prefer a heathen Scot o'er Sir Hugh." Agnes's tone was growing less certain.

"Can I not? Ye have not seen Tavis MacLagan. Tall, lean and strong, with hair the color of a raven's wing that begs a woman's fingers to bury themselves within, as mine so often do as he pleasures me. Shoulders so broad and smooth that do not flinch when, in the midst of impassioned lovemaking, my nails dig deep. Those hands that wield a sword so well have another skill that I would blush to tell you."

Worrying that she might be laying it on a bit too thick, Storm watched Agnes as she spoke. The girl was plainly believing every word, her stance growing less and less threatening. Storm wished the process was quicker, for she was using up vital resources simply keeping herself standing and talking. Tavis, too, wished the matter at an end for her imagery was stirring him to the point of discomfort and the palpable, if silent, amusement of his companions told him that they were gathering fodder for many a future jest.

"His eyes are like a summer morning's sky and can seduce at a glance. They can blaze with the heat of a midday or soften like a dewy morn. No woman could resist such eyes. Ah and such a figure of a man. He would leave no woman empty. He makes Sir Hugh look like a gelding."

"Moon madness. That's what ye suffer," Agnes scoffed, but she put away her weapon. "There be no man with as fine a stature as Sir Hugh. Go to your Scot. I can see that ye will not be wanting Sir Hugh, fool that ye are."

Agnes's satisfaction was short-lived. Just a few hours later Storm's escape was discovered and Sir Hugh quickly discovered who had aided her. It was no lover or future husband that left Agnes broken, bleeding and unfit for any man. That knowledge was what pushed her over the edge into madness, enabled her to drag her crippled body to a window's ledge and sent her plummeting hundreds of feet to the bailey below.

* * * * *

Storm was about to indulge in a much needed collapse when a light flared. At first her heart fell into her boots, but it quickly righted itself when she saw who it was. Her initial delight, something she never would have thought to feel upon seeing a MacLagan, was tempered slightly by the knowledge that he had heard the conversation between herself and Agnes. The broad grin upon his face assured her that he had caught every word, and she glared at her erstwhile rescuers.

"Could ye not have stepped in and lent a hand ere I began to spout off like some whore?" she snapped.

"Now, lass, is that any way tae welcome your gallant rescuers?" Iain chided with a small laugh.

She sent him a disgusted look that suddenly changed as she became aware of the fact that though the MacLagans were within Hagaleah, no alarum had been sounded; there was only one way to accomplish that, and Phelan knew the way. "Oh, Phelan, what have ye done?" she mourned, foreseeing catastrophe for Hagaleah.

"They gave their word of honor they'd not use the tunnel against us, Storm," Phelan said quietly.

Relief flooding through her, she sighed. " 'Tis all right then."

"Ye would accept that, lass?" Sholto asked in slight amazement.

"Would ye not accept an Eldon's word of honor?" she replied, and there was no further discussion on the matter. "Have ye come to take me prisoner again?" she asked with a weak smile.

Sheathing his sword, Tavis took her by the arm, frowning slightly at her weak trembling. "Aye. We havenae gained our ransom for ye yet and I ken ye will be safer by far at Caraidland than here." He felt her shudder, and his grip tightened slightly. "Did Sir Hugh hurt ye, lass?"

"Not as ye mean," she replied, pushing away the unwelcome memories of her brief stay within the walls of a Hagaleah she no longer recognized. "Can we leave now, Tavis? 'Tis not safe to linger here. We are near the stores."

Tavis nodded, and they made their way out of the keep. In the dim light he had seen a hint of the bruises upon her face but, while he suspected she had been knocked about some, she seemed fine otherwise. That she had not been raped was enough for the moment. There would be another time to make Sir Hugh pay for raising a hand to the girl. Frowning, Tavis realized that somewhere along the line she had become more a responsibility than a prisoner. He had become more of a protector than a captor.

Storm grit her teeth against the agony of her body. Instinct told her that only trouble would ensue if she revealed the extent of her injuries. The tone of Tavis's voice when he had inquired about possible rape told her that he could easily be made to seek an immediate confrontation with Sir Hugh. She gave no thought to it being a sign