A Fall From Grace. Mail Order Bride Western Page 39

  Chapter One

  Fiona pressed her back against the wall as best she could. She was going to be found. These men were on her heels -- if they were men. It was known fact that the woods surrounding the house were filled with beasts. But trying to make herself flat and invisible was the only chance she had.

  So she had no chance at all.

  Around the corner they came. She heard their footfalls and saw their shadows first. Fiona shivered against the cold hard stone. She looked straight in the eyes of her victor as he finally appeared. His eyes were cold and hard as the brick she was up against. But they were not of the earth -- she didn’t care what the others said.

  Fiona was a lowly member of the staff of Laird David Brodie's household. The scary bastard frightening her now was obviously the leader of yet another modest pack hoping to best Laird David’s stronghold. By doing so he would be laird.

  It was not the first time since the laird left that someone tried to take over his estate. The laird’s tacks man had swept through, bringing half men, half beasts with him. All knew he was on unsteady ground with the laird. The tacks man was a large and handsome man with an evil air. At first glance he was breathtaking but soon after, no one could tolerate being near him. He worked a portion of David’s lands but some mysterious fallout divided them.

  There had been some falling out between the laird and him. Under sudden circumstances, Laird David departed to address a dispute in a distant part of his territory. It was apparent to all in the household that the laird had been lured away under false pretenses. No doubt he would catch on quickly but in the meantime everyone had to fend for themselves.

  Soon after their leader departed, the tacks man and crew invaded. Women especially were herded like pathetic creatures to the wood. Fiona stopped and stared at the wild spectacle of quasi beasts pillaging the laird’s estate, the tacks man looked her in the eye.

  "You. I think I'll leave you behind. Tell anyone what you saw and they'll think you're mad. Laird David himself will hang you or burn you for a witch if you do,” he said.

  He swooped in and stole a kiss from Fiona which she immediately spit out when he broke from her. He backhanded her and flew away. Whatever skirmish that called Laird David to travel, he told the tacks man to be gone by the time he returned. And so he was but he made sure there was little left of the people who worked faithfully for the laird.

  Now a second band assaulted the estate. The giant now standing before Fiona laid a touch on her fear-heaving breast. He would gain nothing from her to help him against the laird. She had barely spoken two words to Laird David ever. And as a non-crucial member of the household, the communication she received from him was indirect and general. She had once spied his massive form from a distance before. But oh, could her heart and soul could use him now.

  The invading hulk crowding Fiona swept her up over the hard mountain ledge that was his shoulder. Though it was laughable, she kicked and pummeled against his immutable flesh.

  He plunked her down on her straw cot. He and his men were laughing with anticipation. They meant to take her. Maybe one, maybe all. But Fiona was to be taken against her will.

  Blackness, literally swept over the room. Like a mat of thunder clouds, a veil of mist rushed the ceiling and blotted out the light.

  The perplexing occurrence managed to throw the marauding men off. The darkness interrupted Fiona's doom at least for the moment. She shut her eyes and prayed.

  The guttural growls of some unwieldy beast tore through, savaging gnawing at the invading men. Fiona wavered in and out of consciousness as what sounded like a savage dog ripping the men to shreds.

  But the beast spared her. The onslaught was over but still she pressed her eyes shut. This soft hiss of lifeless bodies being dragged across the earthen floor filled the room. When at once the scene was silent, Fiona dared take a look around.

  No men. No beast. The telltale signs of blood spatter which she could easily and even gratefully wash away.

  Was it even real? What happened? Or did the toll of all that she thought had happened finally ruin her mind? Was that all it ever was?

  Fiona stepped out in the humid Scottish weather to get some air. She needed like anything to just finally get out of her quarters. The house was cool but stale. The moment she was outside she was downright cold. She needed warmth.

  She had hoped when news of the wide band of warring clan members that if she hid in the back structure and left the main house empty that her opponents would think the place abandoned. She lost track of how long she had been hoarded up in the back which ordinarily would be her living quarters if Laird Brodie were back and all was normal, but she just wanted out.

  Fiona propped herself against the outside wall. The foliage rustled of the distant wood and she was completely out in the open.

  She didn't run. She didn't seek cover. She laughed hysterically. Here she miraculously was spared a horrific experience by the rescue of a mysterious beast with great timing only to be a sitting duck to a new troop of enemies.

  Fiona lost her mind. She was sure. And she was void of fear. She surrendered. Whatever happened to her next something assured her, her troubles one way or the other would be over soon.

  She willed herself to take a look at the men approaching the house. Now Fiona knew she was delusional. The magnificent, almost too-handsome Laird David leading a handful of giants. It could not be. But there he was. His head practically scraping the clouds. His long reddish gold hair tufting off his broad back as he stomped across the earth on his powerful legs. After weeks and weeks away, he was home. Fiona was safe.

  She shook violently against the house. In part because of the cool air, in part from pure surrender, Fiona was certain she would shake herself to death.

  "There, there, lass," David whispered as he swept her up in tree trunks of arms.

  Fiona sank into darkness.

  Chapter Two

  The crackle of fire was the first sense that she was awake. Fiona had been tucked securely into a strange bed. The fireplace in the room had a lovely, roaring blaze within it. It had been such a long time since she had known any comfort or a peaceful atmosphere in the home.

  As a servant in David’s estate, she worked hard. Hers was not one of luxury but she always felt safe. Of course, that was before skirmishes had disrupted the surrounding areas and the laird left everyone to fend for themselves. Laird David had a reputation for being was the most cunning and fittest of chiefs about. She counted herself fortunate to be a part of his household.

  Fiona’s eyes were downcast and so when she came more fully awake, she spied outstretched ultra-masculine legs in the chair she kept in her small bedroom. Her eyes traveled up and saw the magnificent form of her laird and master of the estate, David Brodie. Nervousness curled in her belly.

  What could he be in her room for?

  Their eyes met. She knew her eyes were filled with fear. His were mildly amused. Fiona secretly spied. My God, she thought, but he’s a magnificent man. She had not thought too much that way about men before. She had no idea one could stir her so. But this one surely did.

  She knew she was fair to look at. Her mistress was forever telling her to not think too highly of herself for it. Fiona had to work twice as hard to escape her criticism. Another house maid let Fiona in on the secret that the mistress was so hard on her because she was good looking.

  “She’s bitter,” counseled the house maid. “She wishes she had your face.”

  Recalling that remark, Fiona wondered what had become of the other house maid and the mistress. They were probably dead. Devoured by the men. Men. But these were not men who frightened most of the servants away. Not what Fiona had seen anyway. The other women scattered like mice out in the woods, running for their lives.

  At first Fiona believed that the strange looking forms were drunken stragglers that had become separated from their own crew, wandered on the estate. But then she saw the tacks man. And then she saw they were not men. The
y were half one thing and half another. Fiona did not believe her eyes.

  She knew there were others remaining from the household but it was every person for his or her self at that point. Besides the men who were upon her just as Laird David appeared, and of course, Laird David himself, Fiona had not seen a living soul since the drunken creatures rode through.

  “So lass,” David began. “Explain to me what has occurred since I have been gone. Tell me what you saw.”

  Fiona had no words. She couldn’t speak. Her chin trembled so. She could only communicate with her eyes until the moment passed and she regained herself. David tilted his head sympathetically.

  “Come. Ride with me,” he said and reiterated, “and tell me what you know.”

  David reached out his hand and drew her out of bed. Fiona colored instantly. Her face burned. Her neckline was torn and her cleavage showed. David grabbed her plaid draped over a hook on the wall and covered her with it.

  She didn’t have much time to think. He swept her up in his big brawny arms like she was his prize. She had the deep desire to laugh hard but she wasn’t sure what to make of his actions. David practically threw her on his mount. He was up behind her.

  And all around her.

  David was so massive that he all but encased her. Fiona leaned against his rock-hard form. He felt like safety. He felt like security. It was lovely to once again feel those things but to feel him as well. Fiona had never been in the arms of a man, even it was to ride.

  They rode the perimeter of the immediate living structures, the main house, the smoke house, the barns and pens. David offered her water from his bag. The touch of the bottle to her lips, the nearness of his hand to her mouth, made her shiver. Fiona wondered if he felt her body spasm. Not from the cold. But from a private wickedness.

  “Are you fine, lass?” he asked softly.

  His voice was a grumble, like the first trembles of thunder. It tickled her ear and affected her deep within. She was infused with incredible warmth. Her nipples were hard and pressing against her torn neckline. Were her tartan to slip, her pebbled flesh would graze his beefy forearm.

  “I have been gone for nigh on a fortnight. Tell me what has transpired since,” he asked. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  She had been warned Laird David would think she was crazy if she told him what she had actually seen. She couldn’t very well tell him that men who were half creatures gutted his staff. She had to lie.

  “I saw nothing. I was cleaning under my bed. I heard a ruckus but saw nothing,” she explained, shakily.

  That seemed to amuse him.

  “Cleaning under your bed, now really? And you were not surprised to see everyone gone?” he inquired.

  “Aye,” she replied.

  “And you did a search to see if others were here?” he asked.

  “I realized something fearful happened and I thought it best to stay close to my quarters,” she explained.

  She did not want to weep in front of him. She feared it was a show of weakness. She was inspired to be courageous around him. A single flaxen tress fell forward from her bonnet and rested on his arm. His curly lashed eyes turned to her as Fiona looked up to him. He had a powerful smoky look on his face that reached deep inside of her and made her feel strange. She craved him.

  Where Fiona had been nervous and now to be so close to her laird, she was very glad for it. She loved everything about the way he felt. The heat from his body melted her very insides and she was damp between her legs. The bumping of her hips upon the horse did not ease her aching any. Fiona craved David.

  As they covered ground, she saw other members of the household. Even though most of the servants ran away the first time they were attacked, she knew there were still other people about. She had ventured out but she never dared to stray too far much too often. She dared not trust anyone anyway. But she smelled the smoldering fires of the smokehouse. Someone had to stoke them for it wasn’t her. The cattle hand was still there she knew because she saw the hearty cattle.

  Fiona had tended the chickens still even when everyone else had gone, feeding them, collecting their eggs. This was what she lived off of. Eggs and roast chickens and a few root vegetables.

  “As you can see others were spared, as were you,” he said.

  He was remarkably intuitive, like he knew without knowing her well what was on her mind. She struggled to mind her thoughts, for she suspected he could read them.

  “So I wonder why some of my remaining household tell a different story than do you? They say you did see something,” he said.

  Fiona didn’t have an answer for that. She wasn’t sure what he was asking. She knew that home was the safest place for her and she told him.

  “Says who? If you know why are you asking me?” said Fiona.

  She knew the moment she said that she had made a serious mistake. He let her know with a single utterance that sounded like a growl.

  “Your pardon,” she said.

  “Shall we try it again? Why do you say you saw nothing, when others who are also here and alive, say you did?” he asked in a tone that almost scolded her.

  “I have no answer,” she said feebly.

  It was not the answer he was looking for, apparently.

  She stiffened against David as thought her might would be any sort of match for his. She blurted out her defense.

  “I tell the truth!” she protested.

  “So you did a watch as others carried off my servants?” he asked incredulously. “And you thought based on a ‘ruckus’ you should stay close to your quarters?”

  “Aye,” she replied.

  He paused his mount and pushed up the tartan brusquely.

  “How brave of you,” he said.

  “Laird do you think I have done something wrong?” she asked.

  “My homestead has been fleeced,” he said, his voice twisting with steel, “of possessions and people. Women, some of them your friends I would like to think, are lost to us. I should think you would like to have their return if possible. Or that whoever is responsible, be brought to justice.

  “Of course, Laird,” she said.

  “So for the time being, until I am able to find the truth in this matter, you will be sequestered from the others who also stayed behind, until I can find the liar,” he said.

  “Sequestered? I am to stay in my room?” she asked for clarification.

  “Oh no,” he said. “In mine.”

  Chapter Three

  Fiona was imprisoned, albeit in the sweetest possible way, already when Laird David informed her that she was to share his quarters for the time being. She was firmly seated in front of him on his horse with his arms around her. No amount of protest would amount to anything. But she was going to let him know what she thought of her fate. That was, if she ever spoke to him again.

  She remained silent for the duration of the ride. He pulled the beast into the barn and they dismounted. Immediately, Fiona walked just slightly ahead of him back to the house. She purposely marched fast enough to irk him.

  “Slow,” he said once in ordering her in an even tone.

  She heard him but she didn’t pay attention to him. She continued at her pace. He didn’t ask her a second time. He whisked her up and waltzed her into the house.

  “Did you not hear me?” he challenged her.

  “I did, Laird,” she said stiffly.

  “And you did not obey me?” he asked.

  “Forgive me Laird, I was approaching the house. I am not understanding your objection?” she said mildly.

  David pressed her close to his body.

  “Shall I make it clear to you, lass or do you believe you understand now?” he asked.

  Fiona called a truce.

  Her function in the household did not really bring her near the laird’s quarters often, though she had seen them before while he was away. It was an unsettling experience to be kept there now. David led her from outside to his chambers. It had a common sitting area wi
th a small dining table as well as adjoining bed room. Fiona sat in the common room on a bench which as she sized it up was just fine enough for her to sleep on. David smiled at her as though he knew why she was staking her space there rather than in his room. He tilted his head as he spoke.

  “Comfortable there, lass?”

  “Aye,” she said.

  “Well good then,” he said gently.

  A fire was started in the heart and a teenaged boy turned a rabbit carcass on a spit in the fireplace. David took over.

  “I’ll do that now, lad,” he said dismissing the servant.

  It was warming to Fiona to see the laird tend to such duties himself.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  It had been almost since he had ventured out that she had had a decent meal. He filled two mugs with brew and removed the rabbit from the fire. It would be a nice change from the occasional chicken she ate and the endless eggs which she would be glad if she never tasted again.

  He ladled out root vegetables which she had been eating raw since lighting a fire would entail gathering wood which she refrained from doing often. Except when it was very cold. And Laird David’s quarters were so very warm.

  Fiona drank a cup of fresh water first. It tasted awfully delicious. He encouraged her to eat.

  “You are far too thin,” he counseled. “Eat.”

  That was all the encouragement she needed. Something inside of her broke and she shoveled food into her mouth as quickly as her fingers could allow.

  “Easy,” he admonished, taking hold of her fingers, “Easy.”

  He took hold of her food and fed her himself. Whether it was guilt for her not telling the complete truth to him about what exactly she saw or his tenderness, Fiona knew he knew she was withholding something. That when Fiona witnessed the servants in the fields be kidnapped or worse by unnatural creatures.

  She remembered the tacks man’s warning. If she admitted to what she saw, the laird would punish her somehow. She also could not bring her to speak of it because the entire situation was unearthly.