Her Highlander's Promise (6 page)

Chapter 9

Laurel repeatedly paced the length of her chamber. She’d not yet heard from Isla, leaving her to fear the worst. Had the maid met with Blair as promised, and if so, what had transpired? he escaped unharmed? Her mind raced with possibilities, dread squeezing her chest.

Another hour passed, maybe more, when a knock on the door brought Laurel running. “Aye, who’s there?” she asked, finding it impossible to hide the excitement in her voice. Were it Andrew, he’d have pounded, then announced himself. Deirdre would have shown no courtesy, and barged right in without knocking. Oh, how Laurel hoped it was her friend.

“Isla, m’lady.”

Her heart leapt with joy. “I was so worried about you. Are you well?”

“Aye,” Isla replied, then entered.

Without hesitation, Laurel threw her arms around her shoulders, drawing her into a tight hug, then held her at arm’s length. “How on earth did you manage to get in? Deirdre locked the door and took the key.”

“She left one in the kitchen so the servants could bring your meals. Mairi gave it to me so I could sneak in, but I canna stay long.”

She handed Laurel a small bundle, wrapped in a linen cloth. “While there, I took the liberty of grabbing you something to eat. I figured given your suspicions about the mistress that you might turn away food or drink sent your way. But you canna starve yourself either.”

Laurel found a slice of bread and a wedge of cheese under the linen, both of which she devoured ravenously. “I dinna realize how hungry I was until now. Thank you.” She wiped her lips with the cloth and handed it back to Isla.

“I thought you might be thirsty as well,” she said as she gave Laurel a wineskin.

Laurel nodded, lifted the vessel to her mouth, and drank deeply. While grateful for the repast, she had to know what happened with Blair. “Please, you must tell me. Did you speak to Lord Cameron?”

Isla lowered her gaze. “Aye. I met with him as promised.”

“And?” She studied the uneasy way the maid stood and fidgeted with her apron. “Why are you skirting around the question. You did give him my message, didn’t you?”

“I spoke to him as you requested. Told him you wanted him to leave and that you were going to marry Allan. But he dinna believe me. He demanded an explanation and refused to depart unless I told him the truth.” Isla wrung her hands, her eyes remaining downcast.

“I asked you to send him away, Isla.”

“And I told her I wouldna believe you wanted to marry that useless sot until I heard if from your lips,” Blair said as he slipped into the room and closed the door.

“What in damnation are you doing here?” Laurel blurted. With narrowed eyes, she glanced from Blair to Isla and back.

“That’s no way for a lady to talk,” he said smiling.

“What if you’d been caught? You wouldna be grinning like a fool then.”

“But we dinna get caught,” he said, his smile even broader.

“How did you get by the guards, let alone into the castle?”

“It wasna difficult once we made it into the storage room off the kitchen. I was able to bring him in through the tunnels beneath the castle. I bid him wait there until I’d retrieved the key from the kitchen. Few people visit the north tower, so once we got beyond third floor, I was certain no one would try to stop us,” Isla replied.

“That still doesna explain how you got as far as the tunnels? The parapets are well guarded, are they not?”

“We . . . um . . .” Isla hesitated, her face flushing red.

“What?” Laurel asked.

“One of the guards spotted us in the garden, so we pretended to be lovers, and he let us be,” the maid replied.

Laurel’s eyes darted in Blair’s direction.

Blair shrugged. “It was that or kill the bugger.”

Laurel threw her hands in the air. “It matters not how you managed to get in. You can leave the same way. I told Isla to send you away. It wasna a difficult task.”

“I’m sorry, m’lady. I tried to deliver your message exactly as you wished, but I couldna lie to him. He was so concerned about you, and there was no mistaking his disappointment. He clearly loves you verra much.”

“Listen to her, Laurel. She speaks the truth. I’ve waited too long for us to be together and couldna stand by while you married another. Especially when it is not a man of your choosing.” Blair clasped her hand, bringing it to his lips, but she tugged free of his grasp and turned her back to him.

“Nay. It is you who doesna understand. I do wish to marry Allan,” Laurel snapped. She couldn’t face Blair for fear he would know she was lying. In truth, she wanted to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him endlessly, to beg him to carry her away, but she had to remain strong.

“After giving your proposal some thought, I’ve decided to marry Allan instead. He is a MacClay, and by doing so, I ensure the clan name will live on. Besides, you never contacted me for eight summers, not a single missive. If you cared for me, you would have sent word, a note, something.” She almost choked on the words, but had to make him believe she didn’t want him around.

“You know why I dinna contact you, Sweeting. Your cousins would never have given their consent. I had to wait until the time was right.” He cupped her shoulders and gently squeezed.

She jerked forward. “Terms of endearment willna win me so easily. I want you to go.”

“Not until you face me and tell me you love Allan and wish to marry him.”

She turned and raised her chin. “I am the daughter of a laird and marrying for love is not always an option. I must do what best suits the clan’s needs.”

“How can marrying Allan be good for Clan MacClay?” Blair asked. “Come away with me, Laurel. We will return once you reach eighteen, and you can claim your rightful place as lairdess.”

“It’s not that simple. I canna leave.”

“Why?”

He wasn’t about to budge without good reason. “It isna safe for you to remain here. I dinna love you, Blair,” she said, struggling to force out the words.

Blair studied her for a minute before brushing a stray curl from her cheek. “Now, tell me the truth.”

His touch sent a shiver of excitement racing through her body.

“Tell him about your suspicions,” Isla said.

Blair arched a brow. “What is she talking about?” 

“You know I told you what I did in strict confidence, Isla. I have no proof.”

“I know you’re upset with me, m’lady, but I canna stand by and see you marry Allan. Not without a fight. Lord Cameron loves you, and I would wager you feel the same about him. You deserve to be happy. It is what your parents would have wanted.” Isla squared her shoulders and looked Laurel in the eye. “I also believe the mistress has gotten away with murder far too long. It is time she paid for her crimes.”

“How, pray tell, do you expect that to happen? It is my word against hers. Once Allan and I are wed, she will have even more power than she does now, which is exactly what she wants.”

“Would one of you ladies like to fill me in on what you’re talking about,” Blair asked.

“If you dinna tell him, I will,” Isla said.

“I canna fight you both.” Laurel released a heavy sigh. “I have reason to believe Deirdre poisoned my parents—that neither of their deaths was due to illness as suspected.”

Blair’s face blanched and his expression turned solemn. “Poisoned? What led you to that conclusion? These are serious changes and if proved true, all the more reason for me to get you out of here this night.”

“That is the reason I must remain,” Laurel replied adamantly. “If I were to leave, my cousin would hunt us down, likely claim you absconded with me against my will and would have half the cut-throats and brigands in Scotland looking for us before dawn. In the meantime, she might take her anger out on those I care about. I dinna want that on my head.”

Laurel proceeded to tell him what she’d told Isla earlier and expressed her concerns that Angus, Isla, and others she held dear would pay the price for her defiance. By the time she’d finished, her shoulders had slumped and tears streamed down her cheeks. “So you see, without proof, we have nothing.”

He snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her into an embrace, pressing his lips to her brow. “Then we must prove her guilty of these heinous crimes and see her punished,” Blair replied.

“How?” Laurel sniffled and rested her cheek against his chest, comforted by the sound of his heart.

“If you could find her mother’s maid, Elise, and convince her to come forth, there might be a chance.”

“Where might I find her?”

“She disappeared the night my mother died and no one has seen her since. She left behind her mother and son, who at the time was a squire to Murray. No one knows for certain why, but there has always been speculation.” Laurel shook her head. “There is no use. I don’t know where she went or if she is even still alive.”

“She resides in Kilmorack, a small village outside Inverness,” Isla said.

“How do you know?” Puzzled by the news, Laurel waited for her friend to answer.

“My mother and Elise’s mother are friends. One day, she told my mam in secret that her daughter was forced to leave, but sends her coin when she can from Kilmorack.”

“I know it well. Kilmorack is a good day’s ride and then some. If I am going to find Elise and bring her back, I must be on my way.”

Laurel clutched his tunic. “Nay. It is too dangerous.”

“I am in more danger if I tarry and someone finds me in your chamber. Murray would have me gelded and then tossed in the dungeon,” he said, chuckling. “If I go now, and travel through the night, I can put a good bit of distance between here and my destination.”

Laurel knew he was right, but she hated to see him leave. Being snuggled in his strong embrace felt right, like he’d been made to hold her. But if she had any chance of proving her suspicions, she had to let him go.

Easing her grip on his garment, she peered up at him and smiled. “I know you must go. Godspeed. I will pray for your safe journey and fast return.”

As she went to move away, he hauled her against his chest, lowered his head, and captured her lips. For a moment, all thought and worry dissipated into a fog of ecstasy. His warm, soft lips moved over hers in a way that made her swoon, his tongue searching the mysteries of her mouth as he deepened his kiss.

“That will have to hold me over until I return,” he said, then nipped at her lower lip. “Dinna
fash,
Laurel. I will find Elise and return in time to stop the wedding, avenge your parents’ deaths, and make certain Deirdre pays for her sins. But most importantly, we will be married. A long time ago I asked you to wait for me. Will you wait for me again?”

“Aye.”

After stealing a brief, but passionate, kiss, he slipped out of the room as quietly as he entered.

Laurel found it hard to contain her excitement at the idea of marrying Blair and seeing Deirdre punished. She wanted to hug Isla again, then spin her around with glee. But reality reared its ugly head, putting a quick end to her euphoria. While the plan had merit, time was not on their side. If there was any hope of stopping her union with Allan, they had less than three days for him to find Elise and convince her to come back to Thistledown Castle. Something ominous prompted the maid to leave in a hurry the day her mam died, and she was not sure she’d return.

“What if he doesna make it back in time or Elise refuses to help?” Laurel bit her bottom lip, to keep it from trembling.

Isla clasped both of Laurels hands between her own. “You must have faith, m’lady. And pray with all your might. Pray that Lord Cameron is successful in his quest.”

“I will,” Laurel replied. “But best you be away.

“I’ll go, but I will keep you in my thoughts and prayers.” With that, she opened the door, peered into the hall, then left.

Laurel heard the door lock behind her friend. It would not due for Deirdre to find it open. She returned to her pallet before releasing a deep sigh. So much was at stake, and time was of the essence. For the first time in days, she held out hope.

No sooner had those thoughts crossed her mind when the door opened and Deirdre stomped into the chamber. Judging by the sneer on her face, she was not pleased.

Chapter 10

Deirdre halted at the foot of the pallet, her glower speaking volumes. “What is going on?”

Laurel’s chest tightened and her heart pounded. Had her cousin seen Isla leaving the chamber? “I dinna know what you mean,” she replied, her gaze focused on the floor.

“Dinna play games with me. Mairi said you refused to eat when she brought your tray. And Andrew told me you tried to send the meal back last evening as well.”

Laurel shrugged. “I wasna hungry.”

Deirdre lunged forward, then pinched Laurel’s chin between her bony fingers, tugging until their eyes met. “You’ll look at me when I speak to you,” she hissed. “Whether you eat or not after you and Allan marry matters not. However, I willna have you fainting from hunger before the priest.” She released her grip before turning to face the door. “Andrew!”

“Aye, m’lady.” Andrew entered the chamber, carrying a tray. He placed it on the table beside the pallet, then bowed. “Will there be anything else, Mistress?”

“You may wait in the hallway.” She dismissed him with a curt wave of her hand, but before he left the room, she inquired, “where is Mairi? I told her to meet me here.”

“I come anon.” The maid stumbled into the room, then offered Deirdre a dark purple gown and a pair of matching slippers.

Deirdre snatched the items from the maid’s hands. “Leave.”

Mairi curtsied. “Aye, Mistress.” She cast Laurel a sympathetic glance, then exited.

Deirdre pointed to the tray of food. “Eat.”

“I have no appetite,” Laurel replied.

“You’ll do as I command or I will force the food down your throat if need be.”

Ire twisted Laurel’s stomach. A person could only take so much abuse before they burst with anger, but she did her best to hold her tongue. She had no intention of consuming the food or drink, but was aware that if she lost her temper, it would not bode well. At this moment, her cousin held her captive and governed not only her fate, but that of her friends. If Blair succeeded in proving her suspicions, Deirdre would soon be exposed for the evil witch she knew her to be. “If you leave it, I will try to eat later.”

Deirdre refused to budge. “Now. And I willna leave until the trencher is empty. I intend for you to wear my wedding gown and dinna want it to hang on you like an old grain sack.” She held the garment in the air. “After you’ve finished your meal, you can try it on. There is still time to have Mairi make a tuck or two if necessary.”

Laurel fisted her hands in the pelt covering the pallet. It was bad enough she’d been forced to endure Deirdre’s cruelty for eight summers, and there was still a very good possibility she could end up married to her cousins’ pathetic son, but she’d not wear that hideous gown.

“Thank you for the offer, but I have already chosen one.” She stood, then moved to a small wooden chest in the corner of the room. After opening the lid, she reverently lifted a cream-colored dress, trimmed with lace and embellished with tiny emeralds around the neckline.

“This was my mother’s. She wore it the day she married my father. He carved the chest for her to keep it safe, and his wish was that I wear it on the day I wed.”

Deirdre’s eyed darkened, and her features twisted as she lurched forward. “You’ll wear what I say.” She grabbed the gown from Laurel’s hands, tore it in half, then dropped it in a heap on the floor. “Now you dinna have a choice.”

Shocked that even Deirdre could be so cruel, Laurel crumpled to her knees, scooped up her mother’s treasured possession, and held it to her breast. A swell of emotion blocked her throat, making it almost impossible to breathe. Tears stung her eyes and tracked down her cheeks, as she struggled to come to grips with what had just happened.

“Stop your sobbing, get up, and eat.” Deirdre snatched the ruined gown and turned to walk away. “I’ll see that Mairi disposes of this rag.”

Laurel sprang to her feet, grasped Deirdre’s upper arm, then spun her around. “You had no right,” she shouted and slapped her cousin across the face. The blow sent her staggering backward.

The moment her hand connected with Deirdre’s cheek, Laurel knew she’d put herself in an even more precarious situation. Her act of aggression clearly stunned her cousin and would surely result in severe punishment, but she didn’t care. Out of respect for her father’s wishes, she’d endured the woman’s cruelty for many years. While it was not like Laurel to respond to any situation with violence, this last fiendish act was too much to bear. She stiffened, bracing for a blow in retaliation that never came.

Deirdre cupped her face, but instead of striking back, she turned and strode to the pallet-side table. “You will eat this now or I will make sure that Angus doesna see the light of day for a sennight or for as long as it takes for you to comply. As for Isla, she will be given so many chores there willna be time to sleep or eat.”

Obviously Deirdre surmised that Laurel did not care about herself, so was counting on her love and compassion for her friends as a means to get her way. Sadly, she was right. Laurel picked up a piece of cheese, and after staring at it for a moment, popped it into her mouth.

“You’ll finish every bite and drink the mead too,” her cousin ordered. She crossed her arms over her chest and impatiently tapped her toe on the floor.

Laurel forced herself to swallow, then tore off a chunk of bread. Once she finished the food, Deirdre handed her the mug. She brought the vessel to her nose and inhaled deeply. The brew contained so many herbs, detecting poison was impossible.

After draining the tankard, Laurel placed it on the table, then went to the window and peered into the bailey. “You’ll release Angus from the pit and lighten Isla’s load?” she asked, but couldn’t bring herself to look at her cousin.

“I never said I would do either,” Deirdre replied, then laughed.

Laurel whipped around. “You said if I ate, you wouldna punish them.” With her hands fisted in her skirt, she returned to where her cousin stood “I did as you requested, now I demand you show them mercy.”

A sinister smirk curled Deirdre’s lips. “You’ll demand nothing, and you will continue to do as I command. That is, if you know what’s good for you. The next time I send a tray to your room, I expect you to empty it without argument.” She turned to leave.

Laurel clutched her cousin’s shoulder. “But you promised to—”

“I made you no promises.” She twisted free of Laurel’s grasp and continued toward the door.

Unable to contain her frustration, Laurel picked up the tray and threw it, the wooden trencher and mug landing on the floor at Deirdre’s heels.

“Clean up that mess,” Deirdre ordered as she grasped the door latch, then tugged.

When the door closed and she heard the lock catch, Laurel released the breath she’d been holding, then swiftly retrieved a washbasin from the shelf by the door.

Aware the food and drink was likely tainted, she put her finger into her mouth, forcing herself to gag and vomit. After emptying the contents of her stomach, she sank to the floor, cradled her head in her hands, and cried.

Emotions drained, she tried to rise, but her head began to spin and her vision blurred, confirming her belief that Deirdre had indeed put something in her fare. Using a nearby stool, she made a second attempt, and this time managed to stand. She took a wobbly step, then another, until she reached her pallet and lay down.

“Please hurry, Blair,” she said aloud. Then she closed her eyes.

Determined to reach Kilmorack as swiftly as possible, Blair pushed his trusted steed to the limits, riding for hours and only stopping long enough to give his horse a rest. Sweat coated his sleek, black coat, his massive chest heaving, but the powerful Destrier continued to give his all.

At this pace, they would reach their destination in good time, but he couldn’t risk running the animal into the ground. When they came to a village on the bank of the Beauly River, he decided to stop. Once he’d seen the horse fed and watered, he’d find a messenger to carry a missive to his brothers and let them know what had transpired. He had no doubt they would be worried by now, if not furious.

Blair halted in front of the inn, then slid from the saddle, just as a young lad barreled out of the stable.

“Can I take care of your horse, m’lord?” he asked as he stroked the animal’s forelock. “What a bonnie lad.”

“Aye.” Blair tossed him a piece of silver. “See he is fed and watered well, then give him a rubdown.”

The lad looked at the coin, then tucked it into his boot. “Oh, thank you, sir. I’ll take good care of him. Are you spending the night at the inn? We’ve got a small pasture behind the stable. After I’ve given him some oats, I could let him graze awhile.”

“Nay. I’ll only be here long enough to give the horse a rest and to get myself a bite to eat, mayhap a tankard of ale. I need to be in Kilmorack on the morrow, so I will ride through the night. Please see to the feed.” He tousled the lad’s red hair, then headed toward the inn.

Blair ducked beneath the low-hung doorframe. After taking a minute for his eyes to adjust to the dim light and the heavy haze of peat smoke, he approached an empty table near the hearth.

“Can I get you something to eat or drink?” a petite young woman asked. “My mother just took a pot of venison stew off the fire and she has a fresh loaf of bread cooling.”

His stomach growled. He’d forgotten how long it had been since he last ate. “The stew sounds good. Could you also bring me a mug of ale?”

“Right away.” She bobbed a curtsy, then disappeared into the kitchen.

Blair leaned back in his chair, then brought his hand up to stifle a yawn. Many hours had passed since last he slept. It was going to be a long night.

“I’ve not seen you in the village before,” the lass said as she placed a cup of ale on the table, followed by the trencher of food. “I hope everything is to your liking.”

“It looks delicious. And to answer your question, I’m just passing through.” He raised the tankard and drank deeply.

“We have a room atop the stairs if you wish to spend the night. My da just filled the mattress with fresh straw and changed the rushes on the floor. A far cry more comfortable than sleeping on the ground.”

“Thank you. As tempting as it sounds, I willna be staying. Not if I plan to reach my destination on time,” he replied, then tasted the stew.

“Katie,” the innkeeper shouted. “See to your chores and let the man eat in peace. The fellows sitting at the table near the window need you to bring them more ale.”

She heaved a deep sigh, then wiped her hands on her apron. “I wish all the patrons were as kind as you. Those three have no manners and think they can fondle any lass they wish. The one they call Callum has pinched my bottom twice and tried to pull me into his lap.” She glanced over her shoulder in their direction and shook her head. “The more they drink, the worse they get.”

Blair narrowed his eyes to get a better look at the men, then almost choked on a piece of bread he’d just popped into his mouth. He recognized the scoundrels, the same men who attacked Laurel and Isla at the festival.

“Katie,” the innkeeper yelled again.

“Aye, Da, I’m coming.” She smiled at Blair. “If you need anything else, just let me know.” She turned and walked toward the keg of ale.

Blair fought the urge to intervene, but unless they did something totally out of line, it was not his place to interfere. Her father was there to protect her if need be, and he had to be on his way if he hoped to prevent the wedding from taking place.

He finished his meal, slid out his chair, preparing to depart, when he heard a woman squeal. He turned to see Katie pinned against the wall. One man used his bulk to hold her in place, his hands groping her breast, his face buried against her neck, while his companions urged him on.

“Nay. Please let me go,” she sobbed.

Blair tried to ignore her plea. But when tear-filled eyes flashed in his directing, he had no choice but to do something.

He strode across the room, then grabbed the assailant by his shoulder and spun him around to face him. “The lass said nay. Leave her be.”

“Well, if it isn’t the hero come to the rescue again,” the man growled, then spat on the ground. “When are you going to learn to mind your affairs?”

Blair palmed the hilt of his sword as he glared at the man. “I said let her be. I think it best you finish up your drinks and be on your way. Callum, isn’t it?”

Callum grunted, then looked to his two friends for support. Unlike their first encounter, they did not cower or back off. Instead, they stood with swords drawn, prepared to fight. “I think it’s
you
who should be leaving,” one said.

Blair tugged his blade from its sheath and broadened his stance. “I will tell you one more time to let the lass go.”

“Here, here, I’ll have no fighting.” The innkeeper stomped across the room. “Take your hands off my daughter,” he ordered.

When Callum released her, then stepped aside, she scurried toward the kitchen like a frightened hare.

“Now if it is blood you want to spill, do it outside. Otherwise, sit down and finish your drinks,” he said, pointing to their table. He turned and faced Blair. “And if you’ve finished your meal, best you be off before I have the lot of you arrested.” He tossed a cleaning rag over his shoulder and headed back to the bar.

“Better listen to the man,” Callum warned.

While Blair would have liked nothing better than to put these swine in their place once and for all, he’d honor the innkeeper’s request and leave. He’d tarried long enough and had a long ride ahead of him.