Page 22 of Taken By her Highland Enemy

“Yes. That I do. But now, with the scouts out in danger, I am not so certain.”

Isabelle quieted and allowed her mind to wander as she stared off towards Eamon and the men. He had joined in the fighting as well, and now she could see how his strong body moved and swayed, hitting and ducking at the right times. She was very used to seeing men with their weaponry, parading their skills about like prize hogs, but this was different.

His movements were rough, and she could tell that he had fought many a battle, but he had never been officially educated in the ways of fighting like the English soldiers. Sean was slightly better than Eamon as they jumped and swung at each other, but his movements were the same, unrefined, wild. It was to be expected, she supposed, for a Highlander, so far from the constraining refinements of London.

Isabelle thought back to the last time she had been home in England. It had been many months now, and her father never spoke of when they would be returning. She enjoyed the comforts of her home and her friends, but living out here in the wilds made her heart sing. Even when she was with her father, the rough nature of Scotland was far more appealing to her than the busyness of London. Here, she could wake up each morning with a lungful of clean, cool, fresh air just off the hills. She could let her eyes stare out as far as she could see to the lovely green mountains and beyond.

In Scotland, she felt free to hope that her dreams could come true. In some ways, her hopes for Scotland mirrored that of her own, and that was why she desired to fight against her father for their sake. Both she and Scotland desired to be free of tyranny and to live their lives as they so wished. As she watched Eamon fight and allowed herself to think of that goal becoming realized, a large ache filled her body, she almost doubled over from the surprise of it. Now that she was with Eamon, albeit his captive, she felt that she was moving ever nearer to what she wanted.

If she could but make the right choices, she had a good feeling that everything would work out. An idea flashed in her mind. It would take some doing, but she was confident she would be able to convince him. She glanced at Arya and smiled. “Arya, I have an idea.” Arya groaned as Isabelle whispered into her ear.

* * *

Later in the day, while Eamon was on watch around the camp in the waning sunlight, he thought about Gareth and Donovan. His mind would often flash to the worst scene he could imagine, and he thought about the two of them dead, with a grinning Cutler standing over them. He tried to push it away as quickly as it had come into his mind. That would do nothing to help them or help his mind to think of new solutions if the worst did happen. His whole plan hinged on their success tonight.

His boots crunched over the hard grasses surrounding their camp. It was cold, but with each passing day, the coldness of winter was slowly creeping out of the winds, and for that, he was grateful. He thought briefly of the comfort of Isabelle and her lady’s maid, for surely they were used to better sleeping arrangements than laying one’s back on the cold, hard ground.

He chided himself once more. He swore an oath right then and there that he would never kidnap a woman again for as long as he lived. It was driving him mad by how it filled his mind with other things when it should be focused on more important matters. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice Isabelle’s quiet approach until she tapped him lightly on the arm. He jolted around, pulling his sword from its sheath and pointing it towards Isabelle, who jumped back in fright.

Eamon’s eyes widened, and he said, “Bloody Hell, lass. Do ye mean tae kill a man with fright?” He replaced his sword with an angry push.

Isabelle was breathing hard. Eamon could see a patch of dirt on her cheek, and he nearly reached out to brush it off but restrained himself. Breathily, Isabelle said, “I am sorry. I just assumed you would have heard my footsteps behind you. I was not attempting to sneak up on you.”

He grunted. It was true. If he had not been so lost in the path of his own useless thoughts, then he would have heard her. “What is that ye want, Isabelle?”

He kept walking, and Isabelle matched his pace. He was thrilled that she wanted to speak with him, but he was annoyed at his own excitement and bemoaned his innumerable weaknesses, the list growing with each passing day.

“I have something to request of you. I know it is rather unconventional, but I thought you would be interested in a plan of mine.”

“Is this another suggestion for how to appropriately carry off a kidnapping?”

Isabelle shook her head. “Just give me one moment to explain, and then the decision is yours.” She put her hands on her hips, and they stopped their forward motion, facing each other.

Eamon squinted his eyes at her. “So deferential of ye, lass. I see. Ye’ve intrigued me. What is it that ye plan tae do?”

Eamon was suspicious but was entertained by Isabelle’s growing excitement. Her cheeks reddened, and her eyes were bright as she began to speak of her plan. “Tonight, I think we should ride towards my father to see where he is camping. We can ask in the village. Then, we will also find out the whereabouts of your scouts.”

Eamon was surprised, but not very surprised. “We? Ye mean tae ride with me?”

“Of course. I would know the plans of my father better than you, and I would be able to recognize any of his men if we happened to spot any along the way.”

Eamon sighed, feeling frustrated at her skilled ability to create better plans. “Well then, what was the point of me sending men out this morning if I am tae simply run after them?”

“You need both sets of scouts. No one would expect a second set of people riding out to see where my father lies. One set of scouts goes for the information. The next set is able to return messages back to the group if something happens to the first set.” Eamon was enthralled by the shape and movement of Isabelle’s mouth as she spoke.

“You have really put a lot of thought into this, lass.” Eamon moved a hand over his chin and felt the stubble growing there. He was suddenly self-conscious in front of this bonny woman. She was beautiful, intelligent, and he was still floundering, wondering what to do next.

“I have. What say you?”

“Yer plan is sound, but why should I bring ye with me? That seems odd behavior for a captor tae bring his captive close tae where she wishes tae be returned tae.”

Isabelle straightened. “If you must know, I have no wish to be returned there. Once this is all over, you can return me there if you so wish, but I will attempt to escape another way.” Eamon was taken aback. He watched the angry lines of Isabelle’s body.

She continued. “I have no love for my father. Desire for his approval, of course, but it was more like a fear that controlled our relationship. I wish to be free of his tyranny, just as you also wish to be free of England’s hold.” Eamon’s heart softened. He knew that many women were not so lucky as those such as Rose, who led her own people and did not have to answer to anyone.

This fiery, beautiful, intelligent woman was being trapped by having Lord Cutler for a father, and he couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. He had been on his own for so long, and he understood the true beauty of independence, no matter the price he had paid for it. He wasn’t sure if going with her tonight was a good idea, but she was right. She had thought about it, and if Gareth and Donovan were captured and or killed, then he would have no way of knowing where they were unless he rode out tonight.

Eamon looked into Isabelle’s eyes. They shone brightly with her passion, but there was something else he noticed. She was telling the truth.

He smiled and said. “Aye, lass, let us ride out taegether.” At his statement, Isabelle gasped with delight and jumped forward into his arms.

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