Much Ado About Highlanders (The Scottish Relic Trilogy) (6 page)

Speak, Count, ’tis your cue.

“You think I’m a child . . . or a fool.”

Emily paced the room James Macpherson had taken at the ferryman’s inn for her. Her meal, barely touched, sat on the table.

James shook his head. “That’s not it at all.”

She huffed and stared out the tiny window at the windswept gray waters of the sound. Along the coast, Oban’s cottages huddled together out of the salty winds of the sea. She could chew his head off. She’d fallen victim to the Highlander’s crafty charm. She
was
a fool, she thought angrily.

Because of her gullibility, Kenna was in danger.

“You told me they could mend their differences with a few hours alone.”

“I meant it. There’s a great deal they need to discuss, and they’ve never had a chance to do that.”

She waved him off. “I believed your tales that Alexander hasn’t been the same since Kenna left him.”

“Anyone who has spent any time with my brother will swear to that.”

Emily continued to pace. James had played to the romance in her heart, knowing she’d soften at the prospect of her cousin out of the priory and happily settled into marriage. She would not be caught again in his snares.

“You led me to believe that it was up to us to give them another chance.”

James Macpherson nodded. “And that’s what we’ve done.”

Like an obedient sheep she’d followed his lead as the sky lightened along the eastern horizon. Trusting him, she’d crept silently away. She’d rode on, leaving Kenna and assuming the Macpherson men would do right for Alexander and her cousin.

“You lied to me.”

“I may have omitted one or two things,” he replied.

She stopped, facing him. “You told me you left them a horse.”

“True, that was a lie,” he admitted. “But if we’d left them a horse, they would have arrived here ahead of us. Sharing a mount, there’d be no time to talk. We needed to slow them down.”

“And now she’s in danger of English raiders.”

“Alexander can take care of them both.”

Arriving at the inn, James heard talk of raiding parties being seen farther north than ever. Some were rumored to be in the same area where they’d left Kenna and Alexander.

Now James intended to go back for them.

“There’s no point in waiting any longer for my kinsmen. I’m coming with you,” she announced. “As it is, Kenna will never forgive me. If anything happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“That’s out of the question. You’re not coming with me. You’re going back to Craignock Castle as soon as your father’s men get here.”

All the politician’s charm dropped away when James issued a command. And what he was telling her now was certainly an order.

Emily matched his glare. “What about my exchange for the ship? Where is it?”

“Well, that business is settled. I suggest you rest. I suspect the MacDougalls will arrive any time now.” James edged toward the door. “I’ll watch outside for them.”

Something was wrong. He’d fooled her once. She wouldn’t allow it to happen again. Emily moved to the door, blocking his exit. “You really take me for a fool.”

His expression hardened, but the arresting gray eyes avoided meeting hers.

“Talk, James Macpherson, or by God I’ll put on a show that will make my cousin Kenna proud,” she threatened.

“You’re two different people. Be happy with who you are. You’re much easier to reason with.”

His words were intended to be a compliment, but Emily didn’t perceive it that way. She took a threatening step toward him, her tone sharper than before. “What is this business that is settled?”

“Now, listen to me. None of this involves you. Let me go by.”

“I’ll set the inn on fire if you go out this door.” She poked his chest. It was like jabbing a rock. She did it again, enjoying the thrill of standing up to him. “I’ll scream ‘murder.’ I’ll steal a horse and ride back to where you deserted my cousin.”

“I didn’t think it was necessary to keep you in the dark. I don’t know why I should be the target of your wrath. Your father could better explain when you return to Craignock.”

Father.
Kenna’s words came back to her. They were nothing but brainless, senseless property in the eyes of their fathers.

“My father will never see me again unless you explain.” She rose up on her toes, looking him directly in the eye, making certain he understood she meant every word.

He stared back long enough that Emily felt a kick deep in her belly. Something changed in his gaze. Their faces were a hand’s width away, and time froze in the room. They both felt it. The argument was forgotten.

James broke the spell and moved to the window. The sea breeze pushed through his dark red hair. Emily studied his broad shoulders. Her gaze moved uncontrollably down his back to the narrow waist and along the length of his kilt to powerful calves that disappeared into boots. The warmth rising into her face was unexpected.

“The ship,” he said finally. “The Macpherson ship was never part of your dowry. That was only part of the plan. It was a ruse to bring Alexander to Craignock.”

Emily covered her burning cheeks with cold hands. She was embarrassed by the thoughts rushing through her a moment ago. Sir Quentin Chamberlain. She repeated the name in silence. Her future husband.

“I’m relieved about that,” she managed to say. “But I’m certain there’s a great deal more you haven’t told me.”

“Our ship was never actually taken. The kidnapping was simply to bring Kenna and Alexander together. If they reconcile, then that puts the MacKay and Macpherson clans back on their arranged path. We accomplished exactly what we intended. The only complication is the English.”

She pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to shut out her momentary lapse of judgment and focus on what was at stake. “Alexander knew nothing of all this?”

“Nothing. Those two are so bullheaded that if either one knew, then the plan was doomed. And we carried it off brilliantly, when you think of it. I don’t believe Alexander or Kenna suspected a thing.”

“So this is not another Macpherson prank?”

“Absolutely not,” he said defensively. “The clans stand to lose a great deal if those two go through with an annulment. We had to try, and your father was most agreeable in allowing us . . . allowing me to use your wedding for the plan.”

“My father . . . allowing you . . . and use my wedding,” Emily repeated. Her head was beginning to pound. “Why wasn’t I told?”

“Very few people know the truth. We couldn’t chance failure.”

“Failure? What kind of success would it be if Kenna stabbed one of your men at the river yesterday? And you know that was a strong possibility. Because I wasn’t told, I didn’t stop her from climbing down the wall at the abbey, where she could have fallen on her head and died. And that was a possibility, too.”

“Well, there’s still the distinct possibility that she’s already stabbed Alexander and he’s strangled her in return,” James offered. “But these were hazards our families were willing to take.”

“Our families.
Our
. Including the MacDougalls. And you still don’t believe there was anything wrong in keeping me ignorant of the plot? You had so many chances to explain.”

Before he could answer, a knock on the door drew their attention.

“A company of MacDougall warriors,” a Macpherson warrior called out. “They’re at the tavern on the harbor.”

The current was strong. The rushing water broke Alexander’s hold on Kenna as soon as they were dropped at the first bend of the river. She was carried ahead, bobbling under and above the racing stream. Alexander’s ribs and legs banged against submerged objects as he sailed by them. The sword at his belt threatened to pull him under or snag on branches lodged in the rocks, but he wasn’t about to let the weapon go. He tried to stay afloat and avoid smashing into the boulders. Suddenly, he could no longer see her.

“Kenna!” he shouted over the roar of the water.

Urgency seized him. He knew she was a good swimmer. That much he’d learned when they jumped off the cliff at the abbey the day before. But neither knew what the next bend in the river would bring. She could bang her head against a rock and go under.

“Kenna!” he shouted again, swimming with the current and scanning both shores for some sign of her.

The river became narrower and deeper, and he felt himself drop down a number of levels. Where the current passed between large rocks, the flow of the water was stronger and faster.

With its roots pulled loose from the bank, a tree stretched across the river ahead. He was relieved when he spotted a slight figure holding on to the very end of one limb.

“Kenna!” he shouted, gliding in long strokes toward her.

She turned and stretched out a hand toward him. The water was pushing him away from the tree. In a moment he’d sweep past her. He swam across the current, trying to close the distance to her. But the river had a mind of its own, pushing him away.

“Stay there! Work your way to the shore,” he shouted as the water carried him past her. “I’ll find you.”

To Alexander’s dismay, she let go of the tree and disappeared beneath the surface.

“What are you—” The breath was knocked out of his body as he slammed against a large boulder. He felt his left arm go numb as his shoulder struck another half-submerged rock beside it. He hadn’t been watching, hadn’t seen it coming. He was nearly on top of another boulder and he winced, awaiting the next smashing blow.

“Don’t worry. I have you.” Small arms wrapped around him from behind. She stretched her legs out, planting her feet against the boulder and pushing them away from the obstacle. “Lean against me. I’ll pull you to shore.”

Alexander was relieved to have found her. At the same time he wanted to laugh out loud. He coughed out a mouthful of water.

“
I’ll
carry us to shore,” he corrected. “I’m saving
you
.”

“Say what you will,” she cried in his ear. “But let’s not waste any of your strength. If you panic, I’ll have to drown you and go off on my own.”

Alexander heard her grunt as she managed to swing him around and wedge the two of them against another fallen tree limb. He glanced toward the shore. There appeared to be an eddy beyond the tree. They were not far from the water’s edge.

He turned in her arms. “Hold on to me.”

“I am holding on to you,” she shouted. “If I let you go, you’d probably crack that thick head of yours on one of these rocks.”

“Have it your way. I’ll hold on to you.” He looped one arm tightly around Kenna’s waist and used the other to work his way along the tree toward the shore.

Alexander’s shoulder throbbed. The two of them managed to work together until their feet touched the riverbed. A moment later, they dragged themselves out of the water.

Once ashore, Kenna sank to her knees on the muddy bank. Alexander reached for his belt and found the sword still attached.

“You can drop that weapon.”

They looked up. A soldier stood a few steps away, short sword raised.

He turned his head, calling to someone beyond the line of trees. “Over here, lads. Come see what the river coughed up for us.”

And in her eye there hath appeared a fire.

Kenna could see one man, but how many more were beyond the trees? Jumping back in the river no longer seemed a viable option. The soldier was too close.

By the Virgin, she wouldn’t allow the English to take them. Still on her hands and knees, she stole a glance at Alexander. His expression told her he had no intention of surrendering, either. His hand moved to the hilt of his sword. She reached for the dirk and gathered every ounce of strength left in her body. She leaped for the Englishman, dragging one leg behind her.

The soldier’s eyes widened, and he swung his sword in her direction. Alexander was on him before the man could even utter a cry for help. Cut down, the soldier crumpled at her feet.

“Wait here,” he ordered, pushing her behind a tree.

His eyes met hers for only an instant. He was a warrior ready for battle, and he would protect her to the last breath left in his body.

“As soon as I’ve led them away, go back in the river and let the current take you as far as you can go.”

Voices. She peered out as soon as Alexander plunged into the undergrowth along the bank. Four men came out into the clearing, the first one nearly stumbling over their dead comrade. Seeing Alexander in flight, they leaped after him and the chase began.

She picked up the short sword of the dead soldier. It was no heavier than the ones she used in practice with the MacKay warriors. The river was only steps away. She turned and followed the shouts. There could be more of them ahead, but she couldn’t leave him here. She wouldn’t let him die. They’d exchanged vows of marriage, regardless of the mockery they’d made of it for the past six months. Kenna wouldn’t be able to live with herself if anything happened to him because of her.

The sound of fighting brought her to a clearing. Three men were down. Alexander was deflecting the blows of the last one, a huge soldier swinging a massive sword.

Blood covered Alexander’s shirt. His left arm hung limp and was clearly no use to him in the battle. The Englishman drove him back and he stumbled over a root. As the soldier raised the weapon over Alexander, Kenna shouted, rushing in. But she stopped short as someone grabbed a fistful of her hair from behind, yanking her backward. Then she felt the edge of a blade against her throat.

“Drop it.”

Alexander’s sword ran upward through his foe before the blow could fall, and the giant collapsed on her husband’s body.

“I said drop the sword.”

The man was a Scot, a Lowlander by his accent. Kenna wondered how many more of them were left.

She dropped the sword at her feet as Alexander shoved the dead body away and stood up. He saw her and whoever it was holding a knife to her throat.

“I’m taking the woman,” the Lowlander threatened. “If you follow, she’s dead.”

“You’re not taking her anywhere,” Alexander told him. “She means nothing to you and she belongs to me.”

“If she’s the one we’re looking for, she means a great deal to me.”

He started to back away. Kenna stumbled and the man jerked her upright. As he did, she pulled the dirk from her belt and stabbed backward at him, hitting him in the thigh and again in the belly. She felt his grip loosen.

Wrenching herself free, she turned to face him. But before she could strike again, he suddenly stood up straight, a peculiar look on his face. Dropping his knife, he reached back over his shoulder.

When he fell dead on his face at her feet, she saw the hilt of a short sword protruding from his back. Behind him, a boy stood looking at them, his face flushed with anger. He couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years of age.

“There’s more of them nearby. I seen ’em. Follow me.”

He started off in a direction away from the river. Alexander joined her and took her hand. He was covered in blood, but she didn’t know how much of it was his.

“The lad’s our best chance,” he told her.

He was badly hurt. Fresh blood was seeping through the shirt on his side. His steps dragged, but they kept the boy in sight.

Kenna wrapped an arm around him, encouraging him to lean on her. Then, just ahead, water shimmered through the trees. By the time they reached a stony beach, the boy had shoved a small skin-covered fishing boat into the water.

“Is he going to die on you?” he asked, as Kenna helped Alexander climb inside. Blood dripped onto nets in the bottom of the boat.

“Nay, we’ll have no dying today,” Alexander answered. “You’re a brave lad. What’s your name?”

“Jock.” He pushed the boat away from the shore and climbed in. He nodded at the brooch on Alexander’s kilt as he fitted the oars into the pins. “You’re a Macpherson. I’ve seen the crest on yer ships’ flags.”

“Aye. And I can see you’re a smart one, at that.”

Kenna searched the shoreline for any sign of anyone following them. None that she could see. A dense fog was rolling in from the northern hills out over the water. When she offered to take the oars and row, the boy bristled and then turned back to Alexander.

“You’re too far south and with none of your people.”

“True. But how about you? You are too young to be out on your own. Where’s your kin?”

“Down the loch on the south shore. Knipoch. Before those accursed English came, my cousin and me fished up and down the bay. But one of them fen-sucking devils cut him down, day before yesterday.” He looked with loathing back toward the shore they’d left. “So I been watching them. Staying just ahead of ’em. Warning the crofters and the fishing folk when I know they’re coming close.”

Kenna was relieved when the fog rolled in, enfolding them, shielding them from men or beast that might be lurking on the shores. The wound in Alexander’s side continued to bleed. She tore out a section of her shift and pressed the fabric against his wound. He pretended there was nothing amiss, continuing to talk to the boy.

“How many have you seen?”

“All told, more than twenty. That’s as much as I can count,” Jock explained without apology. “But they move in packs. Five or six, usual. Don’t know if there’s more inland.”

“That was a Scot helping them.”

The boy spat over the side. “Aye, devil take him. Word is a filthy Lowlander called Donald Maxwell leads ’em. Has other renegades fighting for him. But he has English gold, they say. It’s his people what’s doing the burning and killing, blast ’im.” He paused, glancing at Kenna. “And asking about a woman.”

“What woman?” Kenna asked.

“They’re offering English gold for the wife of Alexander Macpherson. A MacKay woman.” Jock looked at her. “They’re looking for you.”

At the first bend of the road south of Oban, James found the MacDougalls waiting for them. Ten of them, all on horseback. Emily sat astride her horse in front. He’d been restless to leave, but he should have known that she wasn’t finished with their argument.

The calm and compliant Emily MacDougall that he’d met at Alexander and Kenna’s wedding six months ago and again yesterday was gone. She was still beautiful to look at, pleasant to speak to, and there was an aloofness about her that kept James safely at arm’s length. Before, her spirit was subdued. Not the woman for him.

Now, a day later, James didn’t know what to do with this hellfire. Actually, he knew exactly what to do.

He spoke directly to Kester, the leader of the men sent to escort the laird’s daughter back.

“If I’m not mistaken, you’re taking the wrong road.”

“We’re coming with you,” Emily answered instead.

He addressed the warrior. “You have orders from the laird. I suggest you escort Lady Emily directly to Craignock Castle.”

Emily nudged her mare forward and positioned herself between James and Kester. “You will speak directly to me when your conversation involves me.”

James studied her. The clear voice, direct look, the confidence. If there were a low-hanging tree in sight, he would have thought she’d struck her head once or twice, for she was even bolder than the woman he’d spoken to earlier at the inn. And if he thought she was beautiful before, Emily MacDougall was magnificent now. The protective shell was shattered. The real woman now sat before him.

Fighting the urge to sweep her off her horse and drag her back to the inn, James looked off at the whitecaps checking the gray-green firth. The MacDougall men outnumbered them two to one. In any event, making love to her now might not be the most political of strategies.

He addressed Kester. “I’d like to have a private word with you.”

The aging warrior glanced at his mistress first and agreed only after Emily nodded her consent.

James rode back around a small grove of scrub pines. Kester followed.

“I’ll not play games here. My brother and his wife may be in danger. I need to get to them as fast as I can,” the Highlander explained. “Graeme MacDougall and I agreed to the arrangements. You must take the laird’s daughter back.”

“Aye, m’lord. I agree with everything you say. But Lady Emily makes sense. She wants to travel the same road you’re taking. It leads to Craignock and to the abbey. And this way, our swords will be at your service until you reach your brother.”

“I don’t need your swords. And I don’t need the worry of a woman traveling with us.”

“We can keep her from harm,” Kester said. “And she’s going to do it anyway, with or without your leave.”

James fought back his anger. “Who do you answer to? Isn’t it your responsibility to get her back to prepare for her wedding?”

“I need no reminders from you who it is I serve. I’ve known this lass here since she was a wee bairnie. In some ways I know her better than the laird himself does. And I know it’ll serve no purpose in crossing her when she has her mind set on a thing.”

“Even when she’s wrong?”

“She never is. It’s her nature to think things through. She’s not one for foolhardy decisions. Unlike her cousin, Lady Kenna, she leans toward caution. If she says, ‘We travel this path, Kester,’ then I follow.”

The man was a fool. He didn’t see that this stubborn, troublemaking sprite was different from the docile lass he knew. James had no time to worry about any of this now. If Kester wanted to put Emily’s life in danger by traveling into a region rumored to be crawling with English soldiers, it was his choice. As for himself, he and the Macpherson warriors would not wait.

“Have it your way. You must answer to the MacDougall. I did my best to warn you.”

The two rode back around the bend. The Macpherson men were the only ones waiting.

“Where is Lady Emily?” Kester asked.

“She took the men and rode ahead. She said we can catch up to them when you’re done talking.”

Sir Ralph Evers looked across the Tweed River at the massive stone structure with the clusters of cottages and shops huddled close to its walls.

This abbey had history. A Scottish king had died within sight of this place
. . .
and the coronation of an infant king had quickly followed within its walls. More important, this abbey was known far and wide to be the richest of any in Scotland.

Evers assessed his prize. The place was braced and ready for an assault, but it would do no good. They would take the abbey if he had to burn the place to the ground.

“I want every jewel and every pound of gold in their vaults,” he said.

“We’ll take possession of the abbey, m’lord, but these monks are a hard lot,” his captain warned.

Maxwell agreed. “They’ll never tell you where the vaults l
ie, w
here the gold is hidden.”

“Take the abbey. Kill the abbot.” Evers turned an icy gaze on his men. “Then bring me his body. He will tell me everything I want to know.”