Her Highlander's Promise (11 page)

Chapter 18

Laurel watched from the window, but no amount of wishing was going to make Blair appear. The storm had likely delayed him.

Her heart leapt with renewed hope at the sight of riders approaching in the distance. But it plummeted as quickly when two of Murray’s men rode through the gates.

Accompanied by a stout little man wearing a brown, ankle-length robe, they entered the bailey, then dismounted at the castle steps. As round as he was tall, with a bulbous nose and hair sticking out in all directions—except for a bald patch on the back of his head, the friar presented an amusing sight. Had this whole situation not been so tragic, she’d be hard pressed not to laugh.

Time was about to run out and her fate was sealed if she didn’t come up with a plan. Wrapping her arms around herself, she paused and closed her eyes, shuddering at the prospect of Allan touching her.

A few minutes later, one of the guards pushed open the door. “They’re waiting for you. Lady Deirdre sent us to fetch you and warned us not to dally,” he said, confirming her worst fear. There’d be no reprieve.

Her mind raced. She tried to think of a way to avoid the inevitable, but she’d exhausted all possibilities. She could feign illness, even pretend to faint, but these men would likely carry her listless form to the kirk.

“I come anon,” she replied softly. Trying to hide the nervous tremor in her voice, fighting back tears of despair was even more difficult. If fate dictated she marry Allan, she’d do so with her head held high.

“Is she coming?” the other guard asked from the hallway. “You know the old battle-axe will see us punished if we keep her waiting any longer.”

Laurel inclined her chin. “Let’s go. I want to get this over with.” She brushed by the first guard and entered the long corridor. Without giving either man a second glance, she squared her shoulders, then proceeded toward the stairs, her heart pounding faster with each stride.

Upon reaching the first step, she darted down the remaining ones at breakneck speed. If she could make it to the kitchen, she might be able to hide from these buffoons in the castle storage room. Using the same secret tunnels to escape that Blair used might be her only hope. She banked on the fact these men, not being from the clan, would be unaware the passageway beneath the castle existed.

“Get her!” one of the men shouted.

“I’m trying, but she runs like a rabbit,” the other replied, clearly out of breath.

She could hear their thunderous footfalls, but was not about to turn and see how close they were. Instead, she picked up the pace. She reached the first floor with the two hot on her heels. Fortunately, their bulk made them slow and awkward. She had youth and agility on her side.

Laurel sprinted down the first corridor she came to, hoping they’d lose sight of her. However, to her dismay, they proved quicker on flat ground than they did on the stairs. As she approached the kitchen door, a large hand clamped down on her shoulder, halting her advance.

“Stop,” the man growled, “or I’ll tackle you to the ground.” He snaked one thick arm around her middle, then lifted her until her feet no longer touched the floor.

She kicked and clawed, her nails digging into his arm. “Put me down,” she demanded, but to no avail.

The second guard arrived, then bent over to catch his breath. “Good thing you caught her, but I was right behind you,” he sputtered.

“If you stop squirming and promise not to bolt again, I’ll let you go. Keep fussing and I’ll carry you to the kirk over my shoulder,” her captor warned. “What will it be?”

Laurel released a sigh of frustration. “I’ll not run again.” There was no use now that she’d revealed her desire to escape.

“I’ll hold you to your word,” he said and lowered her to the ground. But he didn’t let go of her upper arm. “I’m not a fool.”

“This way,” the second guard said, gesturing in the direction of the great hall.

Confused, Laurel looked from one man to the other. “That isna the way to the kirk.”

“There turned out to be more guests than expected. Lady Deirdre decided that since a friar will bless the union, rather than a priest, the hall would be a suitable place to hold the ceremony,” one replied. “Best we dinna keep them waiting.”

As they approached, the din of voices grew louder. She gasped when she entered the room, stunned to see the place was nearly filled with onlookers. She also couldn’t help but notice that many of the guests were well in their cups.

“I had no idea my cousins were so revered,” she mumbled loud enough for the guards to hear. “But then again, I suppose it could be curiosity that brings them here. That and the abundance of spirits.”

“Here she comes now,” Murray said, then pointed.

Laurel proceeded toward the dais where Allan, his mother, father, and the friar waited. “I told her to take off that awful plaid,” she overheard Allan remark.

“Once wed, she’ll have no choice but to follow your orders. First we must see the union completed, then you can assert your authority,” Deirdre said. After giving her son’s arm a reassuring pat, she took a step in Laurel’s direction. “About time you arrived.”

As Laurel prepared to join her betrothed, one of the drunken guests stumbled into her path, nearly knocking her off her feet. He caught her elbow to keep her from falling, then curled his muscular arm around her waist, before yanking her against his broad chest.

“Unhand her, now!” One of her escorts drew his sword.

“I mean the lass no harm, sir. Maybe she will dance with you once we’ve had a turn around the floor.” He tossed back his head and laughed, spun her around in a circle, then spirited her across the room.

“Do something,” Deirdre shouted.

“Aye.” A guard lumbered after them with his blade in hand. But before he could intervene, a second man stepped out of the crowd.

“Hold fast.” He held his hand in the air. “There is no need for weapons. My brother has imbibed a wee too much. He never could hold his whisky.”

“I can drink you under the table any day.” The drunken guest tightened his hold on Laurel when she tried to wiggle free.

“Let me go at once,” Laurel demanded, but he refused.

“Dinna
fash
, my brother Blair sends his regards,” he whispered in her ear.

Laurel sucked in a gulp of air. She’d noticed something familiar about the tall, dark stranger who’d whisked her away, but it had been many years since she’d seen Blair’s brothers. They were lanky lads the day they met. “Is he here?” she cried, her heart racing at the prospect of seeing her beloved.

“Nay. He’s yet to arrive. We received a missive from Inverness, informing us he’d be back before noon. We fear the storm has delayed his journey, so Ian and I are trying to buy him a bit more time.”

Her euphoria faded as quickly as it struck. While she appreciated their efforts, there was no way her cousins would stand by and allow them delay the wedding.

“Who are these men?” Deirdre demanded.

Ian bowed. “We’ve met before, m’lady, but I’m not surprised you dinna recognize us. I am Ian Cameron, and this is my brother Keenan. Our father, John Cameron, was a dear friend and ally of Brandon MacClay. Surely you dinna think he would let such an occasion pass without sending someone to represent our clan.” He held his arms out to the side in question. “We assumed a proper invitation to the nuptials got missed or waylaid somehow.”

Deirdre coughed, clearing her throat before she spoke. “Your clan wasna invited. I insist you leave at once.”

Groans of shock rumbled through the room. Obviously people were taken aback by her statement, and the fact that she’d omitted one of the most powerful clans in the Highlands from the guest list. Few, if anyone, had the audacity to insult the Camerons.

Ian shrugged. “It matters not. We are here and plan to enjoy the rest of our visit.” He picked up a tankard of ale from a nearby trestle table, then raised the mug in the air. “To our gracious hosts.
Salient
!”

“You are not welcomed here. See these men are escorted from the hall immediately,” Deirdre ordered.

“Aye, m’lady,” one of the guards replied and lunged forward. When he tried to grab Ian’s forearm, he dodged the attempt in a deft move.

Instead, Ian clasped the man’s wrist, then spun him around, twisting his arm behind his back. He quickly pulled a dirk, then held the blade against the guard’s throat. “We will leave when ready, and not before,” he growled. “As for the wedding, the lass doesna appear to be happy about the union. If she wishes to reconsider, we will be pleased to stand by her side.”

Keenan released Laurel and swept her behind him, shielding her with is body. “Aye. If we leave, Lady Laurel is welcome to accompany us.” With his sword drawn, he widened his stance, prepared to support his brother’s claim.

But the Cameron brothers were not able to fend off an attack for long. After valiantly exchanging blows with several MacClay warriors, they found themselves greatly outnumbered. Once disarmed, they were forced to kneel before Deirdre and Murray.

“Give me a good reason my husband shouldna have you executed?” Deirdre glared at the two men.

“And the charge would be?” Ian asked.

“Entering the castle uninvited, disrupting the wedding, threatening the life of one our clan members, and attempting to abscond with the bride. Take your pick.” She scanned the room, then focused her eyes on Laurel. “Or did you solicit their help as a means to humiliate me?”

“Eight summers have passed since I have seen either of these men, and to be honest, I wouldna have recognized them had they not revealed their identity.” She faced her cousin Murray. “You are currently the laird of Clan MacClay, and I’m sure you dinna want to risk a war with the Camerons.”

“You dinna have to marry this arse, m’lady,” Keenan said, only to be struck from behind by the hilt of a sword. He crumpled to the floor.

Laurel placed her hand on the guard’s forearm when he went to deliver another blow. “Let them be, they will depart without further incident.” She glanced at Ian. “Please.”

Both men were dragged to their feet. “What say you, m’lord?” a guard addressed Murray.

He stroked his bearded chin while he considered his decision, but avoided eye contact with his wife. To Laurel’s surprise, Deirdre remained silent.

“The Clan Cameron has long been friends with Clan MacClay. I willna risk breaking an alliance because these two canna hold their spirits. See them to the castle gates and make sure they leave,” Murray finally said.

One of the guards nodded and grabbed Ian’s shoulder, but he tugged free. “We can walk without your assistance. Come, Keenan.” He motioned for his brother to join him.

“Nay, she doesna have to marry unless it is her choice to do so.” Keenan planted his feet and refused to move.

“It is my choice,” Laurel replied. She could not bring herself to look at Blair’s brothers for fear they would know she was lying. She stepped forward and offered her hand to Allan.

“Move,” one of four warriors growled as they forced them to the back of the hall.

“I’m glad you came to your senses,” Deirdre said smugly.

Her cousin’s snide comment grated on Laurel’s patience, but she refused to react. She peered at Murray. “You will honor your promise and let them go?”

“Aye, and you?” Murray asked.

Laurel offered a hesitant nod, then looked at the friar. “Let us be done with this.”

The friar smiled. He took Laurel’s hand, placed it over Allan’s, then bound them together with a length of MacClay plaid. “Please kneel,” he said, then waited for the couple to do as he requested before opening his Bible.

While not fluent in Latin, Laurel could make out enough from the passages recited to know she was about to pledge herself body and soul to a man she didn’t love.

When the friar asked if anyone was opposed to the union, panic squeezed her chest. She searched the hall, praying someone would come forth, but not one did.

“If there are no objections, I—” the friar began, but halted when a large man wearing a long black cloak stepped out of the crowd.

“I have many,” he announced.

Chapter 19

The friar waited for the uproar to die down before he addressed the crowd. “Let the man have his say.”

The stranger came forward and lowered his hood. Badly disfigured, one would find it hard to believe this face belonged to any man. Scars marred the left side of his scalp, running the length of his forehead, cheek, and neck, then disappeared beneath his collar. He wore a patch over his left eye and the ear on that side of his head was missing.

Laurel’s heart ached for him. He’d obviously been in a horrible fire or mayhap received his injuries in battle. As she continued to study him, she noticed his left arm did not appear to be as large or well-muscled as the right. He carried his hand close to his body, and while he wore a glove, she could see that his fingers were bent in an awkward way.

The other side of his face appeared normal, in fact, quite handsome for a man she guessed to be more than two score. When he turned, she did notice a long jagged scar running behind his right ear, and suspected that might be the reason he wore his hair long, in order to hide it.

“How dare you interrupt this wedding? Another uninvited intruder?” Deirdre asked. “You dinna belong here. Be gone before I have the guards throw you out!”

The man limped forward. “As the true laird of Clan MacClay, I have every right to be here. Just as it is my right to say who Laurel marries.” While he had difficulty forming the words, his message was loud and clear.

“The man is deluded.” Deirdre stepped forward and glared at him. “I insist you stop this nonsense and go back to whatever hole you crawled out of.” She hesitated for a moment and narrowed her eyes. “Who are you to make this claim?”

“Brandon MacClay’s brother.”

Deirdre’s mouth hung open. She brought her hand to her forehead as if about to faint, then sank onto a nearby chair.

“How could this be? My father’s three brothers were all killed in Scotland’s fight for independence,” Laurel questioned.

“My brother Kenneth died at Stirling and Ainsley at Methven. May the Almighty rest their souls. But as you can see, I am verra much alive. What’s left of me.”

“That would make you my Uncle Lachlan, my da’s oldest brother. But he told me you fell in an attack on an English stronghold during Robert the Bruce’s march to free the castles in northern Scotland,” Laurel said, then quickly unwrapped the plaid from around her hand, freeing herself from Allan. She faced her uncle, while fighting to hold back tears of joy at seeing him alive.

“Da told me you fell early in the battle. He said the fighting continued on for nearly two days, that they were forced to retreat and regroup several times. He also said that when they finally breached the castle walls, many of the dead and wounded had already been removed. He searched for you, but wasna able to locate your body. I now know why. He often spoke of you and his other two brothers. He never forgave himself for being the only one to survive.”

“He wasna to blame, nor was he my keeper,” Lachlan said.

“I dinna know who this man is, but he is not my cousin Lachlan,” Murray said as he came forward to challenge him. “I saw him fall when the blasted English poured hot oil over him and the others who attempted to break down the door with a battering-ram, then set it ablaze with flaming arrows. No one could have survived.”

“One would think. But then again, we might have succeeded in breaking down the door on our first attempt if we’d had some help. Instead, you were more concerned about saving your own arse. When I called out to you, you tucked tail and ran, so how would you know who lived and died?” Lachlan replied.

Murray lowered his eyes. “Those were difficult days. So much death and destruction.” But he said nothing else in his defence.

“Aye.” Lachlan turned to the guards holding Ian and Keenan. “Release those men at once.”

Obviously having recovered from the shock of seeing Brandon’s brother, Deirdre stood. “How is it you’ve not come forth to claim your seat as chieftain before now? And how dare you insult my husband? When your brother lay on his deathbed, and had no one to care for his daughter, Murray stepped up and offered.”

“After I was injured, it took me a verra long time to recover. Following the first unsuccessful siege on the castle, the English dinna care if the Scots struck down in battle were dead or alive. They gathered everyone up, then threw us into a heap like refuse.” He paused to draw in a slow, deep breath before he continued. “I’d have surely perished, if not for some well-meaning crofters who found me alive and took me in.

“How awful.” Laurel’s heart was breaking. “If only my da had known. He’d have come for you.”

“When I first woke up, I cursed the people who saved my life. I wanted to die. I dinna know who I was, let alone where I belonged.”

“It’s a miracle you survived,” Laurel said, then took a step in her uncle’s direction.

“I wish I had been in a position to assume responsibility for the clan and you at the time of Brandon’s death, but I never learned of his passing until several years after it happened. Mayhap I should have come forth then, and for my failure to do so, I have many regrets. But the fact remains, I’m here now. And from the look of things, none too soon.” He glared at Deirdre and Murray, then returned his attention to Laurel.

“I was sorry to hear about your mam’s passing, too. Katherine was a lovely woman and she made my brother verra happy.”

Laurel wasn’t sure whether it was the mention of her uncle’s admiration for her mother or the fact that Deirdre saw her many years of planning, deception, and murder about to unravel that prompted her cousin to speak out.

With her fists balled at her side, her face contorted with anger, Deirdre addressed Lachlan. “That is all well and good, but it was I who took care of Laurel after her parents died, not you.”

“I just explained why I dinna come,” Lachlan replied. “And what I’ve seen and heard in the short time I’ve been here disgusts me. Had my brother been thinking clearly at the end, I’m sure he would have selected more capable guardians.”

Deirdre’s retort was swift. “Well, while you were too busy licking your wounds to care, Murray took on the responsibility of raising Laurel. He also ran the clan and saw that it dinna fall into ruin. For those reasons alone, you have no claim to the seat as laird. I suggest you stop trying to interfere with the wedding and accept the fact that my son will soon take his place as clan chief.”

“You forget, Madame, that I knew you well before my injuries, well before Laurel’s birth. From what I remember, you have always been a woman who would say or do anything to gain wealth and power. I am sure Katherine wouldna have chosen you to care for her daughter if she had a say, and the only reason my brother named Murray her guardian is because he thought my brothers and I were dead.”

The door to the great hall opened and Blair raced into the room. Elise followed.

“Stop the wedding. I have information that will prove—” Blair stumbled to a halt when he saw Lachlan.

“Saints preserve us. Lord Lachlan, is that you?” Elise crossed herself, then brought her hand to her throat.

Lachlan attempted to smile. One side of his mouth curling, while the other remained motionless. “Aye, Elise. It is good to see you.”

Deirdre’s face blanched when Elise entered the room. She was about to say something when Allan grabbed her arm.

“Forget it, Mother. Let it go,” her son said, then shook his head.

Clearly panic-stricken, Deirdre backed away, then turned to run, but Keenan blocked her path. “Going somewhere, m’lady?” he asked.

Overcome with joy at seeing Blair, Laurel forgot her place and ran to his side, threw her arms around his neck, then kissed his cheek. “I am so happy to see you.”

“And I you.” Blair enveloped her in his arms and kissed her with all the passion of a man in love.

Lachlan coughed.

While she didn’t want the kiss to end, Laurel placed her hands on Blair’s chest, gently pushing him away, then looked at Lachlan. “Forgive me, Uncle, I dinna mean to lose my head and behave disgracefully. I was just so happy to see Blair that—”

Lachlan raised his right hand and smiled. “No need to apologize, lass. Believe it or not, I was once young, and do remember what it was like to be in love.” He turned and glared at Deirdre. “But first we must deal with other issues. Tell me your news, Blair.”

“For some time, Laurel has suspected that her mother’s death was not the result of childbirth. She also believes someone poisoned her father,” Blair began, but was forced to stop when the gasps and comments erupting from the crowd made it impossible to hear.

“Enough,” Lachlan shouted. “Let the lad finish.”

“As I was saying, Laurel had her suspicions, but wasna certain she could prove it or that anyone would listen to her. To say she has been mistreated by Deirdre and Murray would be grossly understating the facts. But out of respect for her father’s deathbed wishes, she has done her best to honor her benefactors. All the time waiting until she turned eighteen and would no longer be under their rule.”

“And the clan elders did nothing to intervene?” Lachlan asked.

“Lady Deirdre can be verra convincing from what I’ve heard. She uses threats, witchcraft, and coin to get her way.” Blair stared at the three clan elders, huddled together in the corner, all doing their best to fade into the crowd.

Lachlan glared at the men. “You will be dealt with in order.” He turned his attention back to Blair. “Continue.”

“Perhaps it would be best to start from the beginning. Elise has some verra interesting information to share. But first—” He turned to his brother Ian. “I trust you got my missives. Is Elise’s mother well?”

“Aye. She is with James. Along with the priest who was supposed to be officiating here today.” A broad grin crossed his brother’s face.

A hush fell over the hall as Elise recounted her story. When she finished, tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, m’lady. Can you ever forgive me? Had I come forth sooner, mayhap your father would still be alive. It is a guilt I must live with the rest of my life.”

Laurel moved to Elise’s side and slid her arm around her shoulder. “You are not to blame. Your mother and son were being threatened. In your situation, most would have done the same thing. Deirdre left you no choice,” she said, then wiped away a stray tear from the maid’s cheek. “My mam thought of you more like a sister than a servant. She wouldna want you to dwell on this. I’m sure had you known my da was in jeopardy, you would have done what you could to warn him.”

“Oh, thank you, m’lady.” Elise clutched Laurel’s hand and held it against her face. “You have no idea how often I’ve thought about your mother. I only wish now that I could have done something to stop her murder.”

“I should be thanking you for coming with Blair. You could have said no,” Laurel replied.

“She’s a witch! Burn the witch!” someone called out from the crowd.

“A witch and a murderer,” someone else shouted. The entire gathering soon began chanting and jeering. As the room exploded with angry voices, Lachlan hobbled toward Deirdre.

She backed away until she could go no further, her legs hit the wall.

Blair raised his arms. “She will be punished.”

“Neither of you have any authority here. A deformed cripple who has shirked his duty as laird, and an unwelcomed intruder. Murray, do something. Have them taken away. Everything Elise said was a lie, all of it. You must believe me.”

“Hold your wheest, Deirdre!” Murray replied. He made no effort to come to his wife’s aid.

“You may not think they have a right to pass judgement on you, but I do,” Robert the Bruce, King of Scotland, strode into the room, flanked by John Cameron and Blair’s eldest brother, James.