Ramsay couldn’t believe what he heard. Had he heard right? Just to make sure, he had Wolfe repeat. Wolfe gladly obliged and laughed some more at the disbelieving look Ramsay gave him. It couldn’t be true; this mere wisp of a woman could not be the famed Guardian. He stared at the woman in his arms and the feeling of possessiveness washed through him. He shook his head and clenched her tighter.
“What is her real name?” Ramsay managed to grit out.
“None of her men would say. Just kept telling me her name was Guardian and if we hurt her, they would kill us slowly.”
He said it so nonchalantly as if he was commenting on the weather.
Wolfe glanced at Ramsay. He wondered what the laird would do about the woman especially since the elders in the clan was feuding over him rejecting a lass from the Ross clan. Yes, marrying the Ross lass would solve all their problems but Wolfe knew his friend well to enough to know that Ramsay wanted more than just a pretty face. He needed a woman that wouldn’t quiver before him when he talked to her, who wasn’t afraid of his intimidating demeanor, and who love him fearlessly.
The Ross lass had none of those qualities. But the lass in the laird’s arms did. Wolfe had seen the fire in her eyes and the strength she possessed, both physically and mentally. Yes, she would challenge Ramsay and god willing; she would love him with all the passion he’d seen in her.
“What do you think about my Guardian?” Ciarán asked, looking straight at Ramsay. “Is she not beautiful?” He nudged his mount closer, his intention clear.
Ramsay didn’t immediately answer. He shifted Guardian out of Ciarán’s grasp. He noticed that the man made it sound like Guardian belonged to him and his well known temper flared. He knew a challenge when he heard one.
A devilish look came into Ramsay’s eyes and he said, “I was not aware that she was yours. If she is, she can tell me and then I will decide whether or not you get her back. She is now under my protection and as such, I will decide what is best for her. Maybe next time you should do a better job of protecting her or one might think that you purposely let her take the dagger to the back.”
Ciarán’s face contorted in a mask of fury. His hand went to his sword.
“Enough, Ciarán! Look around you! You are outnumbered and unless you want to die, leave the man alone.” Bran issued the order, looking hard at Guardian’s commander.
“There has been enough bloodshed for one day. We need to get Guardian some proper help and you two playing tug of war with her is not going to do her any good.”Looking at the laird, he continued, “My name is Gavin by the way. I have known the lass since she was just a babe and she would be ashamed of the way you’re acting Ciarán.”
Suddenly, Ramsay found himself surrounded by Guardian’s warriors. Gavin was on his right and the man known as Bran on his left. Two fair haired warriors turned around and in unison said, “We are Torin and Liam.” They grinned at Ramsay before turning around and leading the way to Ramsay’s keep.
“The warrior that Guardian was trapped under, his name is Keith,” offered Bran.
“And I am Wolfe. Now move over.” Without waiting for a reply, Wolfe squeezed his horse through and shoved Bran, almost knocking him off his horse.
Shaking his head, Bran said, “You have not changed a bit, you know that Laird Sutherland?”
Wolfe smiled and said “I have no reason to change, so why would I?”
Both of the men laughed and spent a few minutes catching up on the last five years. Leaning towards Bran, Wolfe issued him a command. Nodding, Bran raced forward, a look of determination on his face.
Not hearing what was said; Ramsay looked quizzically at his friend and asked, “Where is he going?” He didn’t bother to ask how Wolfe knew the man. He seemed to know everyone in Scotland and a good amount of the people he knew, owed the laird their life.
“He is going to get Glenda and bring her to your keep…unless of course you wish for your woman to die while you fetch your healer.”
“She is not his woman,” growled Ciarán.
“Well, she is not yours either,” Ramsay shot back.
The sound of a throat clearing stopped the escalating argument. Looking down, Ramsay was met by a pair of intense hazel eyes. Holding her stare, he watched as a soft blush crept onto her cheeks. Ordinarily he would have found that telling trait irritating but on her, it was appealing. Looking away, she sat up and flinched, her body sore and aching. Thinking to get some control of the situation, she tried to swing her leg over but ended up having to bite her lip to keep from yelling and slowly lowered her injured leg.
“How is the leg lass?” Gavin inched closer, trying to peer at her thigh.
Clamping her hand over the blood stained cloak, she told Gavin that she was fine. She noticed the twins smiling at her and the dour look on Ciarán’s face. All of her warriors were accounted for except Keith and Bran. Twisting around, she seen Keith slumped over. His brown hair soaked with sweat. Two men surrounded him and kept him from falling off his horse.
“Where’s Bran?” she asked sharply as she continued to twist around
“He went ahead to fetch the healer. We will reach my keep soon and she will treat your wounds.”
The deep voice came from behind her and she felt it rumble in his chest. Her heart thudded noisily within her and Guardian wondered if he could hear it. Never before had her body reacted like it did now to a man and it caught her off guard, making her uneasy.
“Your healer will treat Keith first. Only after my men have all been taking care of, will your healer touch me.”
She said it so matter-of-factly that for once Ramsay was at a loss for words. No one before had ever defied him, well beside Wolfe he amended. Pulling her closer in his lap, he bent his head down and ignoring their audience, whispered, “You will not argue with me. Glenda will see you first, then Keith.”
Guardian arched her back away from him, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. Ramsay let her until he glimpsed Ciarán’s smug look. Hooking his arm around her waist, he pulled her roughly, almost violently, back to him. The heat from his body warmed Guardian and it was then that she noticed how cold she was. Leaning against him, she closed her eyes and let the sway of the horse lull her back to blissful sleep.
Thirty minutes later, she was awakened when she felt a pair of hands touching her. The smell of jasmine and sandalwood had disappeared and was replaced by a pungent odor of sweat. Instinct took over and she lashed out at the unknown man. Her fist connected with the meaty man’s bulbous nose, blood spurting everywhere. Dropping her, the man howled in pain. Sprawled on her back, Guardian lifted her good leg and kicked the man in the stomach. Falling to his knees, he sucked in air greedily, trying to crawl away from her.
Hearing the howling of pain, Ramsay turned where he stood on the steps of his keep, talking to the elders and what he saw surprised him. There on the ground, was Guardian, her leg raised as she aimed her next blow. Kicking Thomas in his side, the old warrior collapsed. Guardian rolled over and unsteadily got to her feet. Ramsay looked around the open space. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and were watching her. Ramsay saw the flash of metal in her hand. Surging forward, he pushed people out of his way and jumped over a forgotten cart laden with weapons.
Seizing hold of her wrist, he squeezed until Guardian dropped the skean dhu. Pulling her against him, he tilted her face up until she met his gaze. Defiance and fear swirled in her eyes. Raising his voice so only she would hear, he said, “While you are here, you will not kill any of my men. Do you understand?”
Guardian nodded. Her eyes moved from his steady gaze to his mouth. She couldn’t take his intense stare any longer. It felt like he was trying to pry into her soul and see her horrible secrets.
“Lass, if you keep staring at me like that, I’ll have no choice but to kiss you.” Ramsay’s voice was husky and his brown eyes burned with desire.
She pretended not to notice his look and defiantly said, “Don’t call me lass. I have a name, so use it.”
Ramsay smiled at her boldness; she was a breath of fresh air. “Then what should I call you?”
“Guardian.”
“I don’t think so.” His smile disappeared and his voice hardened.
“It’s the only name you’ll be calling me.” She glared up at him, putting her hands on her hips. She was unaware of his arm that was still around her waist. Seeing that she didn’t try to move away from his touch, he knew that he was gaining her trust.
“I want your real name.”
“You won’t have it.”
“I refuse to call you Guardian.”
“Then call me whatever you want but I will not tell you my name.”
“How’s your leg?”
At the abrupt change of topic, Guardian was confused for a moment. Her leg? What about her leg? Glancing down, she seen the jagged cut and the adrenaline left her body to be swiftly replaced by excruciating pain. Seeing her blood run down her leg, she started to sway. The pain in her shoulder came back full force causing her head to swim.
Ramsay watching her intently picked her up and turning around, barked out commands. Everyone snapped out of their trance like states and bustled about. Glenda came rushing forward. Keith was already inside the great hall, his wound cleaned and bound. Not sparing a glance at the astonished elders, Ramsey marched inside and up the stairs. Glenda trailed behind him, her healing bag clutched in her trembling hands. He bypassed several empty chambers before coming to a halt in front of a thick oak door. Kicking it open, Ramsay walked inside and laid Guardian down on the bed.
Turning, he motioned for Glenda to come in. Haltingly, the old widow came forward. Her eyes darted from her laird to the injured woman. Putting aside her fear, Glenda bent over Guardian assessing her wounds. Deciding that the thick cloak had to go, she took it off with Ramsay’s help. She stifled a gasp when she seen what the lass was wearing. Her bliaut was torn and dirty. It barely came to her knees in some places. Ramsay could see at least a week’s worth of dried blood on her clothes and legs. Her ankles had been bound, the marks still fresh and red.
“Laird, what happened to the poor lass?” Glenda’s voice trembled. Her hand fluttered to her chest.
“I don’t know Glenda but I will kill the bastard that did this to her.” Ramsay’s voice shook as he tried to control his anger. Hands clenched to his side, he turned to leave the room. He made it to the door before he heard her.
“Don’t go,” Guardian whispered.
His heart lurched at the sound of fear in her voice. He wanted nothing more than to stay with her but if he did, it would cause even more problems within his clan.
“Kristen. My name is Kristen.”
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