Finding My Highlander (21 page)

Chapter Thirty-One

Kendrick and his men reached the MacLean borders a few hours after leaving the keep. They chased the thieving Camerons into the hills. The reivers left most of the cattle behind in their flight. A few men took charge and moved them back to their grazing grounds on MacLean lands. Kendrick and the remaining men spotted a herd of deer and killed three, which they dressed in the field. They roasted some of the meat over an open fire and strung up the rest to dry. Their stomachs full, satisfied with their day’s work, the men bedded down for the night.

Kendrick and Rabbie took the first watch, walking through the tree line. They hadn’t spoken about Andra again since she’d revealed her secrets earlier that morning.

“Have you given further thought to Andra’s story, cousin?”

“Aye, ‘tis all I can think about.” He rubbed his hands through his thick hair and across the back of his neck. “It staggers the imagination, but regardless of how incredible her confession sounds, I believe she tells the truth”

“Aye, I concur,” Rabbie whistled through his teeth. “Now that she’s trusted us with these burdensome secrets, we must protect her from those who might use or injure her for that information. Dinnae you agree?”

Kendrick leaned against the trunk of a large beech tree, shaking his head as he spoke. “The questions that remain are: what do we do with this information? How does it affect our clan? Why did providence send her to us? And what do we do about the lass now?”

He couldn’t imagine her with anyone else, nor could he fathom not having her in his life. He had claimed her with his body. He desired her with an unquenchable fire that burned his loins. It was lust. It was passion. She was maddening, obstinate, alluring, and no matter how much he tried to deny it, he wanted her as his own.

“Well, if you’ll forgive the intrusion, cousin, it seems pretty clear to me what you want to do with the lass. Yet, dinnae you think she deserves a proper commitment and a home where she’ll be protected?”

Kendrick glared at Rabbie, but acknowledged the sentiment, “Aye, that she does.”

“Sooo…” Rabbie drew out the word before launching into dangerous territory. “You plan to find her a husband within the clan, then? ‘Tis not my plan to wed yet, but I’d take her off your hands if you wish. You ken I’d protect her with my life.”

Kendrick repressed an urge to smash his cousin’s face. “Stop provoking me, Rabbie. You’ll not be wedding the lass and neither will anyone else.” He responded with more vehemence than he’d intended. “‘Tis too dangerous to trust anyone with her secrets, and you ken it.”

“Umm, that’s true. I think you’re in serious danger.” Rabbie turned away, but Kendrick didn’t miss the smirk on his cousin’s face.

“What? What are you blathering about?” Rabbie was like a dog with a bone. He would not relent now.

“I think she has captured your interest more than you wish to reveal, even to yourself.” Rabbie chuckled and stepped away, putting his hands up in a defensive gesture.

“She’s been accepted by most of the clan. A few dissenters remain, but none of consequence and they’ll come around eventually. Mayhap you should marry the lass. She’s spirited, strong, and fearless as any warrior, you ken. What more could a laird need or want in a mate? And her lovely wee voice could make angels rejoice, and sooth your frayed nerves. Besides, marrying her would certainly provide the protection she needs.”

Rabbie’s eyebrows rose precipitously, and he took a step back from Kendrick. “I’m just saying what you’re think’n, and you ken it. Now it’s up to you,
Laird,
to do the right thing.

“Mayhap she’s been accepted. But…” Kendrick couldn’t finish his train of thought because it spun into the universe with too many possibilities, none of which he was ready to consider, much less discuss with Rabbie.

“She wants to return to her home, to the life she knew and understood. I keep trying to conceive how I would react and manage if I were in her place. It boggles the mind to think on it.”

The cousins stared into the woods, sheltering their own thoughts on the situation. “I think I’ll turn in. I want to leave before first light on the morrow. I’ll get John to join you on watch.” Kendrick went to his bedroll knowing sleep would desert him this night.

After only a few hours’ rest, the men packed up the meat and headed for home. They rode out long before the first light of dawn and proceeded at a leisurely pace. When they reached a point a little over an hour’s ride from the castle, a fast rider approached them. It was Struan, who had stayed at the castle with Lorne.

“MacLean, I have grave news for you. I’m sorely sorry to tell you that your father passed early this morn. Men have been disbursed to find you, and also to inform your allies.”

The news didn’t surprise Kendrick but the grievous loss pained him just the same. The men passed the news along the line.

“Davey,” he called to one of them, “pick a few lads to help you with the meat, travel as fast as you can, but take care to not lose any in your haste.” To the rest of the men he yelled, “We ride hard lads, keep up as you can.” He spurred his horse to a hard gallop flanked by Rabbie and Struan.

* * *

There was considerable commotion in the bailey as they rode over the barbican and through the gatehouse. Lorne sat astride a big, dapple-gray warhorse in the center of the bailey barking orders. A contingent of men dressed for battle steadied their mounts.

“Brother,” Lorne called to Kendrick over the clamor. “Jesus, praise the saints you have arrived.”

“Och, what are you preparing for?” This level of activity was not in response to his father’s death.

“Isabel, Senga, and Andra are missing.”

He hissed, his nostrils flaring and his mouth flattening into a hard grimace. “Are you certain? When did you discover their absence?” This news ripped through Kendrick as swiftly and harshly as if struck by an enemy’s claymore. He knew his brother would have combed every inch of the castle, outbuildings, even the village before he’d make such a claim.

Lorne directed the stable lads to saddle fresh horses for Kendrick, Rabbie, and Struan. “Aye, we’re certain they’re gone. You were correct to distrust that bitch, Vera. One of the stable lads said she took old Bessie out before dawn, when we sent messengers about Da to our allies. Last night she told mother that Andra had stayed at widow MacAllis’ and that Isabel and Senga had asked for a night alone in Isabel’s chambers. Yet no one ever saw the girls return to the castle from their foray to the loch. And Alith said she last saw Andra when they sat together in the herb garden yesterday afternoon. Therefore, she was not with the lasses.”

“Widow MacAllis never saw anyone yesterday. An hour ago, we found the body of the lad who had accompanied the girls as their guard. Someone had cut his throat and evidence of at least five riders trampled the ground near his body. There was no sign of the girls. We found the guard at the edge of the meadow on the north side of the loch.” ‘Tis one of their favorite spots to gather wildflowers and herbals. Unfortunately, that location brings them verra close to the forest and is not visible to the tower guards.”

“Has anyone found Vera?” Kendrick asked as he jumped from his horse.

“Nae, but we found old Bessie wondering near the abandoned hut outside the northeast side of the village. The hut showed signs of recent occupation. A lone horse rode out from there. We sent a few men to follow each path. One returned a short while ago with this.” He pulled a woman’s shoe from under his plaid. “Mother says it belonged to Andra.”

Lorne handed him the soft, leather slipper his mother had given Andra during her first days at the castle. “Aye, ‘tis hers. Damnation! Lorne, this could be another trap. Mayhap the reivers at the northern border were a ruse to pull a contingent of our warriors away from the castle. Those miscreants left in a hurry, and we recaptured most of the cattle far too easily, without any man injured. I kenned something about that felt wrong.”

He wanted to scream. His battle cry would reverberate through the hills when he rode out of the bailey. Everyone would know Laird MacLean rode to battle, and he would take no prisoners. If those whoresons had harmed one hair on his sister’s or Andra’s head, he would flay them alive and rip out their still beating hearts.

“I’ll take your horse, Lorne. We cannae all leave. This could be another ruse to weaken our security and attempt to capture the castle. I’ll take Rabbie, Struan, and your fresh men and leave you with my men, who will arrive shortly with fresh kill we dressed in the field. Have you sent riders to the Keiths and McDuffs yet?”

“Aye, men have been dispatched. Riders left before dawn to notify the clans about father. We expect allied lairds should arrive within the next few days to pay their respects. They will have men at arms with them. We can count on those men to help reclaim our women and protect the castle if an attack is imminent. I understand your request that I stay, Kendrick, but I don’t like it at all. I’d much prefer to accompany you and the men.” Lorne’s horse skittered under him.

“Aye, I ken you want to join this fight, but I need you here, Lorne.”

As the men mounted fresh horses, Beatrice came out of the keep with Alith clinging to her arm. Their eyes were red and moist with unshed tears and Beatrice’s voice hitched as she tried to speak. “My sons, you must bring our ladies home. My heart cannae lose our daughters too.”

“Aye mother, we will bring them back. For now, Lorne will stay behind to direct messengers and secure the castle. We’ll send word back as we discover information.” Kendrick did not miss that his mother referred to all the women as her daughters. He blinked a moment at how right her words sounded to his ears.

“Has Father been placed in the chapel?”

“Aye. If you’re delayed for more than two days, we’ll inter him. Do you wish to join me and pay your last respects before you depart?”

Hesitating but a moment, Kendrick turned and sped to the chapel. After uttering words of prayer and pleading for his sire’s guidance, he kissed his mother’s cheek then ran back to the bailey. Alith waited beside his horse. She laid her hand across Kendrick’s shoulder. “Andra is ours, lad, I feel it in me bones. We must get all of them back.”

“I will not fail them or you. Take care of mother.” He kissed the old woman’s forehead and leaped on his brother’s mount. In a cloud of dust and gravel, he and the men sped from the bailey, the air reverberating with their war cries.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Andra felt as though she’d been riding through a nightmare for weeks, and it culminated in this horrid camp she had escaped only hours ago, though it seemed like days. Lucas dismounted and pulled her down with him. He returned her to the tent she had previously occupied, bound her hands, and attached the rope to the tent pole again. “I’m sorry, my lady. I cannot do else for you right now. The best I can do is to keep Cormag and his men away from you until the colonel returns. Then it will be up to him to decide what will happen next.”

“He’s not likely to be very kind toward me, but I thank you for your earlier help getting the girls away from this cursed place.” There was no sense antagonizing the man. She understood he simply performed his duty and had put his head on the line attempting to help them earlier.

“Do they know you helped me?” she whispered.

“No, and if you tell them, they will shoot me as a traitor.” He looked beseechingly at her, his head tilted to the side. “I told them you must have snatched a knife and cut your rope during the melee that occurred at Cormag’s tent when he killed the girl. Their men’s subsequent fight provided a plausible distraction for that to occur.” He hesitated for a moment. “Since I value my neck I will deny any other story.”

“Of course. I understand.” The likelihood that he could aid her in another attempted escape was slim to non-existent.

“Do you know why they want me? I am no one. I have no family who can ransom me, no one who will come to my rescue. Although kind enough to give me shelter, I mean nothing to the MacLeans. I am of no value to anyone.” Her voice sounded desperate, whiny. She could feel a trickle of sweat sluice down her back and under her breasts.

“Obviously the colonel and Cormag believe The MacLean will come for you. They both have long-standing grudges against the man and his brother, each for his own reasons. I don’t know much else. I’ll bring you something to eat in a while.” He left and stood outside the tent with another guard.

Cormag tried to obtain her release to him, but the guards and other soldiers pulled their weapons insisting they wait for the colonel. Andra wanted to stay alert, but a deep weariness settled over her. The rush of adrenaline that had served in their earlier escape abated, and all remaining reserves floated away like a puff of smoke. A fitful sleep took her into the depths of dark and disjointed nightmares.

Awareness of firm hands lifting her to a standing position worked through the fog of her exhaustion. She snapped her eyes open and tried to pull away. Her hands were still bound to the pole and every part of her body rebelled toward collapse.

“Stand up, woman! The colonel wants to speak with you.” One of the men who had been on guard outside the tent forced her to her feet.

“I need to tend to my personal needs first.”

“Fine, but don’t try anything. You’ll not escape from me.” Other than Lucas, these soldiers were of the same ilk as Cormag’s men. With the least provocation, any one of them would cause her serious harm. She seethed and felt an overwhelming urge to kick him in the nuts. Unfortunately, that would accomplish nothing but a punch or smack, or worse.

The guard pushed her inside the colonel’s tent. Though he must have recently returned, someone had polished his boots and his jacket was spotless. The scarf at his neck and his breeches revealed a few stains that marred his otherwise pristine attire. She suspected it annoyed him greatly. He brushed at some non-existent debris on his sleeves and stared at her, the scar pulling his mouth into a twisted, leering scowl.

He turned, angling the scarred side of his face in shadow, “I hear you’ve had an adventurous day, Lady Andra.”

A wicked dagger appeared in his ungloved hand as he strutted across the space between them.

This is it
.

He moved until she could feel his breath on her face, and struggled to maintain a calm veneer while she held her breath. She flinched, surprised when he slit the ropes binding her wrists. The sudden release caused a sharp pain in her stiff shoulders, but she refused to rub the pain away. He moved to stand a few feet in front of her.

“Where did you leave the girls?”

“I don’t know.” She vowed not to give him any information about their escape.

“Who aided your escape?”

Lifting her chin, refusing to look away, she kept her voice firm and low. “You don’t think women are clever enough to act on their own behalf when threatened by ruthless cutthroats and rapists?”

He moved the dagger under her throat so swiftly she had no time to step away.

“Don’t antagonize me, Lady Andra, or you will see just how ruthless I can be. I’ve had a tiring day, and my patience wears thin.”

Her heart thudded in her chest. She watched his eyes drop to the vein that pulsed blood through her neck. No doubt, the vein he planned to slice with his wicked knife. “Surely your men have filled you in on what transpired in your absence. There is little I can add to that.” She hated the strangled hitch in her voice.

“Did you take the girls to the MacLean’s hiding place in the hills?”

“I don’t know of any hiding place.”

“Cormag says differently.”

“And you would rely on the word of that worthless whoreson, piece of shit?” she brashly retorted. Fear drove her anger to the surface.

He raised his brows. “That’s hardly appropriate language for a lady.”

“Even you won’t deny my rude assessment of Cormag Cameron. Besides, I doubt many
ladies
would address you with flowery speech while you held a knife to their throat.”

“There you are wrong. Most ladies would weep, beg, and attempt to ply their womanly wiles. I can see why a warrior might be intrigued by you.”

“No one is intrigued by me.” She kept her eyes glued to his and exerted every effort to prevent her lips from quivering and her hands from shaking.

He stepped back, re-sheathing the knife. Waving a dismissive hand, his voice softened. “The girls are of little importance. Sit. Perhaps you would care for some wine. It’s most unfortunate you had to witness that distressing bit of violence earlier today. Cormag is a barbarian.”

He offered her wine, while slandering Cormag after holding a knife at her throat. This was a good re-enactment of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hide. Nevertheless, she sat on the stool offered.

“Why do you associate with him if you hold him in such disregard?” Conversation about his motives was the last thing she should pursue, but she couldn’t help herself.

“He serves my purposes. Sometimes we must meet with the devil to accomplish our greater goals.

“My men are scouring the woods and I have sent scouts to learn how many will be coming to your rescue. Then I will set my trap and finally put an end to those worthless MacLean brothers.”

“What is your complaint with the MacLeans?”

He abruptly turned and slammed his fists on the table, his face a twisted mask of fury. His erratic mood swings suggested a mind as unhinged as Cormag’s. He simply possessed a bit more spit and polish around the edges.

“My complaint is that they breathe air into their lungs. My complaint is that they are Highlanders, the worst scum God ever placed on this earth.”

Something in his posturing suggested his complaint had to do with the ugly scar that marred his otherwise flawless features. Even though she should not voice an observation, her tongue rattled on anyway. “He has bested you in some fashion and you seethe with the need for retribution, even to the point of aligning with the likes of Cormag.”

He snapped his spine straight, squared his shoulders. Andra could see his fight to rein in a volatile temper. Waving his hand at the expensive rings on her fingers, the diamond studs in her ears and the exquisite cross at her neck, he barked, “No ordinary woman would possess such riches. Are you of noble blood, my lady? What is the great secret of your heritage and family that you so vigorously withhold the information? From what Cameron clan do you descend, and from whom are you hiding?”

Here we go again
. The endless questions for which she had no answers anyone would believe. She could see the hatred in his eyes, and this time it did not soften. Maybe she should tell the truth and let him think what he would.

“My family is dead, I am from far away, and only recently came to be at the MacLean’s castle as they offered me protection and shelter while I am in Scotland.”

He reached his hand forward and attempted to touch the cross at her neck. She slapped his hand away and covered it with her own. Strong fingers twisted into the front of her gown and pulled her to her feet, he yanked her against his hard chest. The other hand squeezed her upper arm like a vise.

“You dare strike at me! What brash behavior. You forget yourself, my lady. You are my captive, and I will take or touch what I please.”

Andra lifted her chin boldly. The shock of her defiant manner registered briefly on the colonel’s face, and as quickly, he shuttered his emotions.

“You hold yourself with considerable boldness and condescension for a captive. What could possibly engender such arrogance under the circumstances? Perhaps you mistakenly believe some relation or protector able to exact retribution on your behalf will arrive shortly. Or some errant knight will charge in to secure your rescue. If so, let me disabuse you of that notion. After I have dispatched the MacLean brothers and that miscreant carrying your same surname, you will be mine to handle in any fashion I choose.”

His scrutiny, while he delivered this speech in a calm, superior tone, filled her with an urge to scream and rail against his smug self-assurance. Instead, she repressed the rage that floated under a veneer of serene complacency and refused to flinch at his marred countenance, which he now presented full-faced daring her to recoil.

Unfortunately, she could not control the slight tremor in her hand gripping the cross under the pressure of his hold. She gripped it so tightly it punctured her skin and a trickle of blood slipped between her fingers, but she would not release it to this man. She wanted to spit in his face, but knew he would kill her on the spot. Steadily, she held her focus on his face while clamping her mouth shut, grinding her teeth to hold in a sharp retort. From this moment on, she vowed to keep her wits, her emotions, and her tongue firmly under control.

The trickle of blood seeping between their joined fists diverted the challenging scrutiny of his eyes. “Ah, I see now why so many seem to hold you in considerable regard.” He released her hand and appeared uncertain what to do with the blood that marred his palm. He withdrew a pristine handkerchief from his jacket pocket while continuing in that annoyingly confident tone. “You do not cower when most would or certainly should. You do not flinch away from my countenance.”

Now he’d shocked her at his casual mention of a scar that he hid with posturing or blatantly displayed to garner a response. A response he would no doubt find loathsome and worthy of reprisal.

“You are clearly a woman in need of a strong man, one capable of curbing your willful behavior.” He released her arm, likely sprouting bruises from his tight grip, and slid the back of his hand along her cheek. His voice became soft yet full of venom, “I will enjoy taking you from Kendrick. Perhaps I’ll let him live long enough to watch me claim your body. It would sweeten my revenge.”

How could it be possible that she’d arrived in this desolate place and now had two vile cretins vying to claim and destroy her for revenge on the man she’d fallen for like a lovesick teenager? Andra wanted to curse this lunatic to his face, but for the moment, he was the lesser of two very evil men she needed to escape.

A loud commotion outside the colonel’s tent announced Cormag’s approach. “I’ll have that woman now, Colonel. You gave me your word that she’d be mine. I deserve my revenge, and I’ll pry the information from her you seek. Kendrick stole from me and murdered the woman who should have been mine. Upon your word, we agreed I’d have that fancy piece you dally with in exchange for my allegiance and in compensation for what MacLean took from me.”

“Leave my tent, Cormag. I’ll let you know when you can have the woman. Right now she is entertaining me.” He gave Andra a lopsided, grimacing smile, his voice lowered to a snarl. “You see how I protect you from that filth. Be assured you would not find that mongrel’s attentions satisfying, and I fully expect your compliant behavior in exchange for my continued protection.”

He hissed out a very frustrated breath and continued as though she had faded away and he was ruminating to himself. “The man plagues my patience. He holds such a festering hatred over his thwarted desire to claim Kendrick’s dead wife, already gone many years, as his own. Foolishly, he believes his hatred and revenge takes precedence over mine. Eventually his usefulness will wane, and he’ll come to an unpleasant end.”

Andra suspected Cormag grew close to that end because he knew far too much about the colonel’s questionable tactics and ongoing plunder of the area for his own gain. She couldn’t think of an appropriate response and dreaded to think what
entertainment
the colonel expected from her so she held her tongue.

“Lucas,” he called. When the young man entered the tent, he threw her toward him. “Take her to her tent and be certain she is securely bound. Keep two guards on her, with strict orders to let no one else in, especially Cormag.”