Page 66 of Scot of Deception
Laird Campbell jumped to the left, avoiding Blaine’s blow. Immediately after, he delivered a counterattack, but Blaine was prepared for it. He ducked just in time, stepping out of reach, and then spun around to face the laird again.
There was a moment—a short, almost imperceptible moment—when Laird Campbell was left wide open. Blaine wasted no time before he adjusted his stance and charged, taking advantage of that opening to push his blade in the laird’s stomach, just below his ribs.
The man gasped in response, blinking as though he didn’t realize what had happened at first. With a grunt, Blaine dragged his blade through him, slicing clean through his stomach. Blood spilled from the wound all over his hand, drenching him, and it was only when the life left Laird Campbell’s eyes entirely that he finally let go of the blade, allowing the man to fall to the ground.
Panting to catch his breath, Blaine turned to look at Kathleen, to reassure himself that she was alright. For a moment, she looked at him in shock, her eyes taking in thecarnage. But just as Blaine began to think all this violence would prove too much for her to bear, she rushed to him, throwing her arms around his neck to pull him close.
Despite the blood, despite all the injuries that were quickly catching up to him, draining his strength, Blaine took a moment to wrap his arms around Kathleen and bury his face in her hair. It was difficult to believe it was all over. It was difficult to believe that he could allow himself to feel relief, that he could take a moment to breathe without danger lurking over his shoulder.
“Faither!”
The cry broke through every other sound in the clearing, chilling Blaine to the bone. He looked up to see a young man rush to Laird Campbell’s body, falling to his knees next to him and pulling him into a tight embrace. Within moments, the young man was covered in his father’s blood, and when he searched for the man who had killed him, his gaze found Blaine.
Never before had Blaine encountered so much hatred in one single look. His stomach clenched, a visceral reaction that he couldn’t hope to control. Slowly, he began to let go of Kathleen, preparing himself for another fight, but just as the young man pushed himself to his feet and lunged at him, two of his men grabbed him.
It was a good call. Blaine would have killed him, too, without any hesitation.
The young Campbell man kicked and screamed as he was dragged away from Blaine and away from his father, but his men were firm. Their hands never once faltered. There were no soothing words exchanged, but the fact that they saved his life was enough.
Looking into the young man’s eyes, though, Blaine knew the war was far from over. One day, he would seek him out. One day, their swords would clash and the blood of one of them would be spilled.
Blaine could only hope that day was far away.
Around them, the battle died down as the Campbell soldiers accepted their defeat. Stewart and Mackintosh soldiers gathered the wounded and the fallen, caring for those they could and mourning those they couldn’t save. Blaine, his body aching from exhaustion and from the injuries he had sustained, pulled Kathleen aside, away from the carnage. He couldn’t protect her from any of this, not when she had already experienced the viciousness of the battle, but he could at least make sure she didn’t have to see much more of it.
“Are ye alright?” he asked her, cradling her cheek in his hand. “Are ye hurt?”
Kathleen shook her head. “Nay, nay, I’m fine, but ye’re hurt, Blaine.”
“Dinnae fash,” Blaine assured her. “It daesnae even hurt.”
It was a lie, and from the chuckle Kathleen gave him, she could tell it was. “How can I thank ye fer savin’ me?”
“Thank me?” Blaine asked, huffing out a soft laugh. “Lass, I would tear the whole world apart fer ye. If ye’ll have me by yer side, I’ll never leave ye again.”
The smile Kathleen gave him was radiant enough to light up the entire forest. As their lips met in a soft kiss, warmth pooled in Blaine’s chest, easing every pain in his body.
“Never dae,” she said. “I never want ye tae leave.”
EPILOGUE
A few days later.
Blaine’s body still ached all over, the bruises that littered his skin making their presence known every time he moved. Mrs. Moggach, though, had once again taken good care of him, stitching up his wounds, cleaning them, and applying salve to the cuts and scrapes every single day of his recovery.
For days, she had forbidden him from doing anything too strenuous, but in her mind, even a simple walk was too much. And so, Blaine had found himself restless, confined in a bed for the entire duration of his recovery.
It was only that morning that he was allowed to leave the healer’s cottage and he did so with a smile, stepping outside of the squat stone building to find Kathleen there, waiting for him. Her smile, when she saw him, was brilliant and her green eyes sparkled with joy as she rushed to throw her arms around him and pull him into a tight embrace.
During his recovery, her father had allowed her to stay by Blaine’s side, much to his surprise, and with Mrs. Moggach keeping him in bed, the two of them had had plenty of time to talk about their feelings and how to move forward.
And Blaine had made a decision. He didn’t care what it would take; he didn’t care if he would be victorious in the end. No matter what, he would fight for him and Kathleen to be together.
“I’m glad tae see that ye’re well,” Fenella said as she approached them. She, too, had visited often to keep Kathleen company whenever Blaine was resting and she didn’t want to leave his side. Blaine had gotten to know her better in that time, and he could see why Kathleen adored her so much. “Faither has been askin’ about ye. He’ll be glad tae ken ye’ve recovered, too.”
“Thank ye, Miss Stewart,” said Blaine, bowing to her, but Fenella was quick to roll her eyes.
“Dae ye bow tae Kathleen?” she asked. “Nay? Then dinnae bow tae me. An’ dinnae call me Miss Stewart, we’re nae strangers.”
