Plead Forgiveness (Loyalty Series) Read online

  “We question the monks about the girl’s value to Greystone as well as her story. They will likely confirm her tale to be false and her value paltry. In the event that she does hold some value, we will return home with the intent to exchange her for Gabriel.”

  Ella remained silent while the Highlanders stared at her with open hostility, but after a few agonizing moments the warriors finally turned away. They gathered around the fire, passed around food, and continue discussing their plans for the morrow. Fear of the unknown made her body tremble and pride vanish.

  “Please, you must let me go. My aunt is in danger,” she pleaded. “Philip will kill her when he discovers what I have done.”

  “Listen to me,” she yelled. “He will kill her when he realizes that Gabriel and I have escaped. Please, why will you nae . . .”

  Ella’s cries and pleas fell on deaf ears. Then Paen roughly gagged her. She realized that her captors would neither help her nor release her until they had Gabriel. With no alternative but to listen, she learned that Laird Macleod had sent a man named Warin to Greystone, under the guise of seeking employment within the castle.

  Gavin said to Nicholas, “As a servant, yer cousin will be able to gain valuable information.”

  “Aye, that he will,” Nicholas began, “but I canna help wonder on my cousin’s pretense of being a servant. Being of noble birth, the tasks that will be required of him will be verra unfamiliar.”

  “Mayhap I should have sent ye?”

  “Nae, living amongst the Macleod Clan all these years has lessened my English accent,” Nicholas explained.

  “Aye, ye are right,” Edric interjected. “Ye have picked up our dialect, thank the bloody saints. Those first few years ‘twas painful to hear ye utter even a single word.”

  Gavin’s youngest brother, Tavish asked, “Nicholas, do ye ever regret refusing yer father’s title and land? Ye could have been a baron.”

  “Nae,” Nicholas replied, “Unlike my cousin, I have too many bad memories of Thornton. Warin may be a pain in the arse, but he proved his loyalty to me by coming to Scotland and informing me of my father’s death and will. Refusing was nae a hardship, and I am content that Warin is now the new Baron of Thornton.”

  The men surrounding the low burning campfire all nodded their agreement before Gavin spoke. “Get some rest men, dawn is but scant hours away. I will take the night watch.”

  The men settled in their bedrolls near the warm fire, while a few paces away Ella remained tied to the tree. She was too far from the fire to gain any heat, and if she moved even slightly the bark from the tree dug into her back. Although it was late May, there was a chill in the air, and it made her shiver uncontrollably.

  Gavin had not thought it a particularly cold night, but then he remembered the girl’s thin garments and the feel of her slender body. With an exasperated sigh, he stood and walked over to the trembling lass tied to the tree. He detached her wrist from around the tree, retied them in front, and then removed the gag before dropping his plaid over her. Since he did not intend to sleep the ensuing hours till morning, he would make sure she did not escape.

  Ella was startled when she felt warm hands close over her wrists, but even more so when the cruel laird draped his plaid over her body. She instantly settled on her side, curling up in a ball, and then pulled her bound hands to her chest.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, and then closed her eyes.

  Gavin stood over the lass, mystified by her words. He was her captor, yet she thanked him. Shaking his head, he returned to sit by his sleeping men and stare into the glowing embers of the dying fire.

  A few pale streaks of morning sun gradually illuminated the dense foliage that surrounded the Macleod warriors and their captive. Dawn provided Gavin the light needed to see the vixen he captured clearly.

  Crouching down to where she slept curled in his plaid, he folded back the covering that hid her face, and was shocked by each exquisite detail. She had delicately carved facial bone and smooth skin that glowed with pale gold undertones. The perfectly shaped oval face complimented thin, finely arched brows, doe- shaped eyes and long lashes. His gaze lowered to her Grecian nose, and then narrowed to her generously full lips that curved into a pouty cupid’s bow. Her braided hair remained mostly hidden by the plaid, but the color was like liquid silver and gold. Her ethereal beauty, he thought, was fragile and almost unreal in the early morning light.

  He desperately wished to strip the plaid away so he could glimpse the delights that linger beneath and relish in the sight of her slender, youthful body. Remembering the feel of her lithe form in his arms only hours ago, coupled with the sight of her angelic face now, made him ache with intense desire.

  A coughing sound made by one of his men interrupted .Gavin’s salacious thoughts. Turning, he saw that Nicholas was awake and was approaching with a bewildered look on his face.

  Nicholas took one look at the sleeping lass, and then grinned broadly. “Ah, I see what has ye so enthralled this fine morn.”

  Not wishing to linger or stare at her longer, Gavin said in a brusque tone, “Be ready to ride.” He turned on his heels and stomped off to gather his belongings.

  Before following, Nicholas tucked the plaid around the slumbering beauty, and whispered, “I suspect ye will captivate the others just as quickly as ye have captivated our laird.”

  Sometime later, a mammoth redheaded warrior with a thick Scottish brogue and a cheerful smile gently awakened Ella. As he cut the rope binding her wrist, he asked, “Are ye awake, lass? Good, I can see that ye are. Well, I will allow ye a few moments to see to yer needs.”

  “Thank you,” she said to the giant as he walked away.

  Stiff and sore, she headed to the privacy of the trees, and then returned moments later from her ablutions. The sight of the colossal redheaded man patiently waiting for her, holding out the plaid she had used last eve, brought forth an unconscious smile.

  Osgood gently put the plaid around her shoulders and led her to the fire, while the other men stared at her as if she were some mythical creature. After helping her sit on a fallen log, he asked, “Yer name is Ella, aye?”

  She nodded, taken back by his kindness.

  When he noticed the lass shivering, he turned to Tavish. “Add some more wood to the fire, lad.”

  “My thanks, sir,” Ella whispered.

  Although the giant and the younger Macleod were more than pleasant, she noted that the other two warriors wore expressions of unmasked disdain.

  Stunned by her gratitude, the redhead waved his hand through the air, and said, “Bah, think naught of it, lass. And please, call me Osgood.” He paused for a moment, and then said, “Laird Macleod and Nicholas will be returning shortly, and then we will be leaving for Scotland.”

  “There is no need to wait for me. I assure you, I can see myself home.”

  Realizing she believed they were letting her go, Osgood explained, “Lady Ella, ye are coming with us . . . to Scotland.”

  “Nae, you cannot take me to Scotland. I must get to my aunt before Philip hurts her. Please, Osgood, you must believe me. You have my word-”

  “The word of an English whore is worth naught,” Paen spat, not bothering to hide his contempt. “’Tis good ye drain yer water since we dinna plan to stop till noon.” He glared at her, willing her to dispute his words.

  “Enough,” Gavin bellowed as he entered clearing with Nicholas. “Ready the horses, we are leaving this god forsaken country now.”

  His men hastened to obey.

  Ella approached their indomitable leader apprehensively with one final plea. “Laird Macleod, I beg you to release me. Please, I must get my aunt out of Greystone before Philip learns I escaped with Gabriel. He is a monster, and will nae hesitate to hurt or even kill her for my betrayal.”

  She looked so sincere, Gavin noticed, but he remained resolute. “Nae, ye will come with us to Scotland. Only after I see my nephew returned safely to his family will I send ye back to Greystone.”


  “It will take days to reach Scotland, and during that time he will. . .” Her words trailed, realizing she argued in vain.

  Beyond irritated, Gavin scowled at her, and then snapped, “Cease yer drivel, wench. Abbott Davis has agreed to deliver a message explaining that I alone am responsible for yer abduction and to wait for my next message. Therefore, yer so-called-betrayal is of nae consequence.”

  His ice blue eyes never wavered, nor did his confident tone. “I pray you are right. I will go with you to Scotland, but only if you vow to release me once you see Gabriel.”

  “I give ye my word, vixen,” he answered gruffly. “But, I will have yer word as well, that ye will make nae attempt to escape or give us any trouble.”

  This would be as achievable as asking her to fly, he predicted, since she was already giving him a headache and the day had only just begun.

  “I give ye my word,” she said earnestly, then abruptly turned on her heels and walked over to Apollo. Whether it was his hooded gaze, herculean body, or domineering presence, the man had a profound effect on her that she found unsettling.

  Afore reaching her horse, one of the warriors approached on horseback, nearly knocking her to the ground. She tried to step around him, but found her path blocked by the cruel warrior called Paen.

  Looking for confrontation, he said, “The word of an English whore is nae to be trusted. My brother may have accepted it, but it will be a cold day in hell when I’m that inane.”

  His offensive words caught her off guard, as did the knowledge that Paen and Gavin were siblings. “Brothers?”

  The simple question gave Paen the opening he needed to taunt her further.

  “Aye, brothers. I’m his bastard brother, Paen.”

  When she did not respond to his declaration, he continued in a cold voice. “Aye, English. Ye are traveling with a true Scot bastard. What say ye to that, whore?”

  Not bothering to wait for a reply, Paen roughly hauled her to sit astride in front of him, and then reached around her narrow waist and slammed her back into his chest.

  Struggling to sit forward to alleviate the searing pain in her back, she could not help but cringe remembering his words last eve. This bitch deserves to be whipped. She took a deep breath in an attempt to regain her composure, knowing that there would be no sympathy from Paen if he discovered the lash marks on her back.

  “Och, I see ye are reluctant to ride with me.” Paen’s harsh voice cut through her thoughts. “Well, nae matter, for ride with me ye will. Unlike my half brother, I see yer vow for what it really is . . . horse shite.”

  Paen’s verbal abuses continued for the ensuing hours, and only when they stopped at noon to water their mounts was Ella given a reprieve.

  6

  Loyalty, honor and discipline were traits Gavin valued above all others. Until now, he also believed that his men possessed these traits as well. Paen was a disappointment this day with his callous treatment of the young woman.

  All morning, Gavin watched Paen and Edric taunt the lass, which she neither provoked nor refuted. Highlanders did not make war on women, even English women. Only cowards hurt those weaker than themselves, he thought to himself as he listened to Paen’s sneer at her once again.

  “Because I’m a bastard ye cringed from my touch. Ye may see me as an abomination like the rest of your kind, but I’d rather be a Scot bastard than an English slut.” He threw her from his horse, and then watched with pleasure as she crumbled to the ground.

  Ella stood slowly, never taking her eyes off Paen as she stated, “What I see is a man who has been cruelly scorned for the majority of his life. I judge a man, whether he be Scot or English, by his actions and words alone, not by the status of his birth.”

  “Ye think I believe a word-”

  In a low ominous voice, she cut in, “You are sadly mistaken if you believe I care what you think.” With that said, she walked away, refusing to look back.

  Paen’s hatred for the English went far deeper than anyone imagined. Most within the Macleod Clan were aware of the abusive years Paen spent with the English as a political hostage, but with the exception of scant few, no one knew the true extent of his suffering.

  Gavin understood Paen’s hatred for all things English, but his cruelty towards Ella was unjustified. When Tavish, Nicholas, Osgood, and Ella headed to the burn to water the horses, he confronted his brother and Edric as they settled under an elm tree. They were in a heated conversation about their captive when he approached and crouched before them.

  “Yer ignoble behavior ends now.” Gavin raised his hand to halt Paen’s protest, then continued, “The Macleods dinna bully women, even if she be English. Ye are punishing her for the actions of others, and I will have nae more. Do ye understand?”

  Gavin was about leave the insolent company of his two men, then decided to enlighten them further by asking, “Have ye noticed we have been following the same tracks since leaving the abbey?”

  “Aye,” Edric said, confirming his laird’s assessment. “It looks to be two riders with a handful of horses, half a day ahead of us. They must be in a hurry to be traveling with extra horses.”

  Edric slowly realized what Gavin was suggesting. “Ye dinna think ‘tis Gabriel, do ye?”

  “Mayhap. Only time will tell.”

  As Gavin took his leave, he thought about all that had transpired since dawn. He, too, hated the English, but unlike Paen, his integrity was opposed to treating Ella with cruelty. He also was not immune to her startling beauty.

  “Bloody hell,” he cursed aloud. Those green eyes alone could bring a man to his knees, but he knew it was more than just her face and form. He tried to dismiss what he had learned from Abbott Davis earlier this morning, but he found it to be impossible.

  The Abbott had confirmed that Ella was a distant relation to Lady Eleanor and that Sir James left the abbey last eve with a handful of horses, intending to go to Scotland. There was no mention of Gabriel, but the man insisted that Ella was honest to a fault.

  The Abbott went on to add that in the eight years Lady Ella lived at Greystone, the baron had treated her abominably. When Sir James returned from the crusades five years ago, he apparently arranged for her to work with the monks, training and breeding horses each afternoon to limit her time at Greystone. The devout man concluded by praising her generous and spirited nature as well as her skill with horses and the healing arts.

  When Gavin left the abbey with Nicholas, he had conflicting emotions where Ella was concerned, especially hearing about her honesty. There was no reason not to believe the Abbott, but until he saw Gabriel, he would remain suspicious about her words and motives.

  Ribbons of sunlight pierced through the dense canopy of foliage over the burn that Ella and three Macleod warriors used to water their mounts at high noon. Instead of joining the group, Gavin decided to stay in the shadows and observe his captive.

  After handing Osgood, Tavish and Nicholas a twig from a willow tree, Ella said, “Now, chew.”

  When the three highlanders complied, she continued, “Good, now be sure to rub it over the front and back teeth, and then rinse your mouth out with water.”

  “Och, that works well,” Tavish exclaimed after spitting out water.

  Osgood ran his tongue over his teeth, then said, “Aye, much cleaner. Thank ye, Milady. I canna wait to tell my wife about this useful twig.”

  Ella beamed, and then asked Nicholas, “And what are your thoughts?”

  “I like it verra much and without doubt will use from now on,” he said with a wide grin.

  Gavin closed his eyes and shook his head, thinking on how foolish his men could be in the company of a comely wench. He approached the group, and with obvious irritation said, “We are wasting time, let us be off.”

  Walking over to her, Gavin was mystified that she had ridiculously long legs for such a small frame, and almost smiled when he noted that the top of her head barely reached his shoulder. Is she ignorant to how small and frag
ile she appeared to others? Aye, otherwise she would nae have confronted Paen as though she were equal in size.

  His eyes seemed to devour her all at once. Her mouth was too full, too sensual, not to be a distraction to any man with a pulse. Moreover, the breeches she wore fit her rump well, too well for his peace of mind.

  He was acting like an untried youth, Gavin told himself, which was laughable considering his vast experience with the fairer sex. Never had he lacked for female companionship, so it came as a shock when blood rushed to his nether region just by the sight of his young captive.

  Lady Ella was the means of getting Gabriel back, naught more, he reminded himself. He then would be elated to send her back to England.

  As Gavin battled to think clearly, Ella stared, awestruck by the sight of the laird’s massive form. He had an air of authority and an appearance of one who demanded instant obedience. With the exception of Osgood, he towered over the other warriors, who stood all as tall and muscularly built as Vikings.

  She noticed that his leather jerkin left his powerful arms bare; bronzed by the sun and heavily muscled, they were a formidable weapon themselves. Sable breeches outlined thick, sculpted legs and a dark leather belt hung low on his tapered waist. She became acutely conscious of the masculine scent that drifted her way and seemed to envelope her senses.

  Laird Macleod had an Adonis-like appearance with a chiseled jaw, straight nose, and intense light blue eyes that were rimed a darker shade. His firm features and profile spoke of ageless strength. A generous mouth hid even white teeth and contrasted pleasingly with his golden skin. A wan shaft of midday sun struck his thick, straight hair that was an array of brown colors. A gentle breeze blew the few of the lighter strands that escaped the leather strip he used to bind it together at his neck, leaving the bulk to hang just below his shoulders.

  Tavish and Paen shared the same hair color and were similar in face and form to Gavin, but were not nearly as striking. Edric had blue, black hair and a distinct scar that sliced through his right brow. Osgood had bright, fiery red hair, while Nicholas’s locks were so blond, almost white. And all the men wore their hair long, and tied back with a thin leather strip.