Fraser 01 - Highland Legacy (5 page)

She nibbled on her lower lip and waited for Connor to emerge from the inn. When he’d left her at the castle, he informed her of his plan to leave for the Highlands once he completed his business in Dunkeld. What if he’d changed his mind, decided to spend the night, or was occupied by one of the innkeeper’s voluptuous daughters? After all, a man had to sate his needs, or so she’d been told. A twinge of jealousy tugged at her stomach when she thought of him bedding another woman.

She gave her head a shake. How could she be jealous? He owed her no loyalty. In fact, she hardly knew the man, and she meant nothing more to him than a brief encounter.

When the door burst open and Connor stepped out of the inn, her heart skipped a beat. While the two men who accompanied him were dashing, they couldn’t hold a candle to Connor’s raw masculinity and animal magnetism. Her breath caught when he paused and glanced in her direction. Did he know she watched?

“Is something amiss?” the red-haired man asked.

Connor hesitated, narrowed his eyes for a moment, and then turned to face the man. “Nay, but we best make haste. There’s no telling when the English will arrive.” With that, he headed for the stable, his two companions close on his heels.

Chapter 5

The village of Dunkeld lay nestled at the base of Ben Lawer, one of the most impressive mountains in Scotland. Beyond the valley lay the treacherous terrain through the lawers of Perthshire—a route best traveled in daylight.

The Fraser brothers made the trek through dense forest, up steep slopes, and along rocky crags in silence. But as the sun set and evening approached, Connor stopped his horse in a clearing and surveyed the area.

“We’ve ridden hard and the horses are spent.” Connor peered up at the cloudless sky. “The night will be clear. This is a good spot to make our camp.”

“Do you think it wise to tarry?” Alasdair glanced over his shoulder in the direction from which they’d come. “If the Saxon buggers are following us, mayhap we should continue on.”

“I would wager they had their hands full with the Clan Macmillan. If they are following us, we have a good start on them.” Connor slid from the saddle and stretched.

“All the more reason to keep going.” Bryce dismounted and moved toward his brother. “We’ve traveled these paths many times. If we continue through the night, we can put many more miles between us. The sooner we deliver the missives to Robert, the sooner he can plan his attack.”

Connor shook his head. “The horses need to rest. If we run them into the ground, where will we be? Kildrummy Castle is a three day ride, and a very long way to walk without a mount. We will camp here, get a good night’s rest, and get a fresh start before sunrise.”

Bryce nodded. “I’ll go down to the stream and fetch some water. Mayhap the fish are biting.” He handed his reins to Alasdair. Before heading off, he took three empty wineskins and a small sack from behind his saddle.

“I’ll see the horses fed and watered.” Alasdair took Thor’s reins from Connor and led their mounts to pasture.

In his brothers’ absence, Connor gathered wood for the fire. But he kept his head on a swivel, ready to respond to a threat in the blink of an eye. He bent to pick up some twigs and hesitated, certain he’d heard a noise in the bushes. Hairs prickled on the back of his neck and the icy chill of impending danger crept up his spine. He narrowed his eyes and scanned the woods surrounding the clearing, watching and listening for the sound of anything out of the ordinary. Aside from the rustling of leaves in the breeze, the hoot of an owl, and the melodious din of crickets, the woods were silent. But he could not shake the uneasy feeling they were being watched.

Connor shrugged, dismissing his concerns. He stacked the wood, then added some branches and dried leaves for kindling before setting the pile ablaze. Within seconds, the amber flames licked at the logs, ravenously consuming the dry tinder. As he stared into the flames, his mind wandered back to the battle with the soldiers on the riverbank...to Cailin. When he closed his eyes, he could see her image, could smell the subtle mix of heather and lavender, could almost taste her pouty lips.

What sounded like a muffled sneeze broke his concentration. Out of reflex, his hand slid over the hilt of his sword. Heart pounding and adrenalin pumping, he crept toward the edge of the clearing. A tree branch snapped behind him. With lightning speed, he drew his weapon, spun around in the direction of the noise, and took a defensive stance.

“Go easy, brother.” Bryce held both hands in the air and halted in his tracks. “Best you put the blade away before you hurt someone.”

“Never sneak up on a man, lest you wish him to run you through.” Connor slid his sword into its sheath, then raked his fingers through his hair. “When next you approach, announce yourself.”

“As you can see, I’ve snagged an eel and two fat catfish.” Bryce lowered his hands and moved into the clearing.

“Did someone say catfish?” Alasdair asked as he approached from the other direction. He grinned, patted his belly, and licked his lips. “I’m starving.”

Bryce laughed. “You’re a fine pair. One of you thinks with his stomach, the other is as jumpy as a nervous cat.”

Ignoring the comment, Connor turned toward Alasdair. “Did you feed the horses? On the morrow, we have a long ride ahead of us, and I want to get an early start.”

“Aye. After they drank their fill at the stream, I gave them oats and left them enough rope, so they could graze on the grass. After we’ve eaten, I’ll secure them for the night. That is if Bryce ever decides to cook those fish.”

Bryce slid a sharpened stick through the eel and hung it over the fire. “I thought you’d just bite their heads off and eat them raw. If not, you can clean them.” He tossed the fish to Alasdair, then snickered when his oldest brother grabbed his dirk and stomped away, grumbling under his breath. “Mayhap he’ll appreciate my cooking if he has to work for his supper.”

Once the fish were cleaned and gutted, Alasdair sprawled out on the ground and took a nap while Bryce finished preparing their meal. Connor walked the perimeter of the clearing, unable to shake the mounting disquiet, the gut feeling that someone was out there.

The rustle of bushes caught his eye, confirming his suspicions. He nonchalantly returned to the fire, crouched down beside Bryce, and stirred the coals with a stick. “We’re being watched.”

“What do you mean?” Alasdair sat with a start and reached for his sword. “Are you certain?” He went to stand up, but stopped when Connor placed a hand on his arm.

With his eyes fixed on the glowing embers, Connor answered. “Dinna make any sudden moves. For the last few hours I’ve had the feeling someone followed us. Now I’m certain. They hide in the bracken about a hundred paces to the east.”

“Thieves?” Bryce whispered. “Or mayhap the English are closer than we thought.”

Alasdair leaned in closer. “What do you plan to do?”

“Surprise him and find out what he wants. Kill him, if need be.” Connor rose and stretched as if nothing was amiss. He twisted from side to side, working out the kinks in his back, and then casually strode toward the horses.

Cailin watched him disappear behind a grove of trees on the opposite side of the clearing. In her attempt to stifle a sneeze, her elbow rustled a branch. When she moved into the bracken, she bumped into a hawthorn bush. Sharp barbs poked at her backside, and she covered her mouth to stifle a squeal. Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn’t make a sound. When Connor moved in her direction, with his eyes narrow and his nostrils flared, she thought he’d seen her. She expected him to charge at her with his sword drawn. Instead, he wandered off in the other direction. His two companions remained by the fire. If Connor sensed her presence, he’d obviously not made it known to them.

She cursed under her breath and slowly backed away from the clearing. She knew better than to get so close. But the aroma of cooked fish lured her in, caused her empty stomach to twist and growl. What she wouldn’t give for one savory bite or a sip of cool water to quench her thirst. While she’d waited for Connor to emerge from the Dunkeld Inn, she’d placed her wineskin and sack of provisions on the ground beside her. In her haste to follow, she’d left the supplies behind. By the time she’d realized her mistake, they were too far from Dunkeld to turn back.

“Hold fast, or I’ll slit your throat.”

She hadn’t heard him approach. Strong arms wrapped around her waist, the weight and momentum of his body propelling her forward. Stunned by the force of the blow, the air rushed from her lungs when her chest hit the ground. She sputtered in an attempt to clear the dirt and leaves from her mouth.

Pinned to the ground, she couldn’t budge. Nor could she see the face of the man who attacked her. How could this happen twice in one day? Had someone followed her? Or had a thief stumbled upon her hiding place? Her mind raced with possibilities. Her heart hammered against her ribs and fear tugged at her belly, but the instinct for survival proved greater. She’d stood her ground against the soldiers on the riverbank, and if necessary, she’d fight this man to the bitter end.

He trapped her arms at her sides, but she could still move her hands. Her fingers curled around the hilt of her dirk, and she fumbled to slide it from its sheath. When he rolled to the right, taking her with him, she struck out with all her strength.

The blade connected. Fabric tore, and flesh gave way. Something warm and sticky splashed on her cheek. He howled in pain and let out a string of curses. But he was standing before she could make another move. He grabbed the collar of her tunic, dragging her to her feet. One hand clamped around her upper arm with bruising force, and he raised the other balled fist in the air.

When she saw Connor’s face, she couldn’t speak. She closed her eyes, and waited for a blow that never came. Instead she heard his sharp intake of breath and felt his finger slide down her soot-covered cheek.

“Damnation! What are you doing here?” Holding her at arm’s length, he shook her until she opened her eyes. “Foolish lass, have you lost what is left of your senses? Why are you following me, and why are you dressed like this?” He fired off the questions in rapid succession, leaving her no time to answer. He pulled the cap from her head and groaned aloud. “Saint’s teeth, what have you done to your hair?”

She refused to fall apart or to throw herself into his arms and weep. “If I choose to cut my hair and dress as a lad, it is none of your concern.”

“None of my concern?” His fingers tightened around her upper arms. “Twice you have pulled a dirk on me today, and this is the second time you might have been killed for doing so. I left you at your father’s keep. What are you doing here?” He released his hold on her and took a step back.

Her heart pounded in her chest, the sound of it resonating in her ears. She cleared her throat to speak. “The English were at the castle to arrest me for murder when I arrived. I recognized the lord in charge. The soldier who attacked me on the riverbank was his brother.”

“You know this man?”

“A few years ago Lord Borden visited
Mhaolain.
He tried to have his way with me, but I refused to give in to his demands. He vowed I would pay for my insolence.”

Connor’s hands fisted at his sides, and his face contorted with anger.

“Now, he has even more reason to seek revenge. He demanded my father turn me over, so he could take me back to England to stand trial, to see me executed.”

“Surely your father would not surrender you so easily.”

“You dinna know my father. Och, aye, he tried to make a deal. Rather than arrest me, he suggested the commander take me to his bed, told him to use me as he saw fit, and then to discard me when he finished.” Tears rolled down her cheek. She quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand. “I had to run away.”

His voice softened. “If I had known you were in danger, I would not have left Dunkeld. I’d have done everything in my power to help you.” He took a step closer and held out his hand.

She countered his move and took a step back. “I dinna need your help. I dinna need anyone’s help.”

“You’re far too independent and cynical.”

“I learned to trust no one and to fend for myself at a very young age. Besides, if I had asked you to take me with you, you would have said no. If I’d have come to you in Dunkeld, you would have taken me back to my father’s keep.”

“When did you plan to announce your presence?”

She shook her head. “I did not. It was my plan to do this on my own. I thought only to follow you to the camp of Robert the Bruce and once there, to ask him for sanctuary.”

In one swift move, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against his chest. “I won’t turn my back on you, lass. I killed the soldier, not you. Had I known they blamed you for the deed, I’d have moved Heaven and Earth to see you safe.”

“I told you that I dinna want your help. I—”

She struggled to break free of his grasp, but he tightened his hold and stifled her protest by claiming her lips.

“Saint’s teeth, man, what are you doing?” Alasdair stumbled up from behind. “Kissing a lad? Have you gone daft?”

“You have to admit, this does not look good.” Bryce joined them. “You said you were going to kill the bugger, not kiss him.” He raised a brow, scanning Cailin from top to bottom.

Connor released her and stepped away. “It’s not what you think.”

“Not what we think? First, you tell us we are being watched and not to make any sudden moves. You asked us to let you handle things and disappeared into the bushes. Now, we find you kissing a lad.” Alasdair’s rebuttal was harsh and to the point. “You’re bleeding. Did this filthy, scrawny scoundrel cut you?”

Cailin stepped out from behind Connor with her hands planted on her hips. “Who are you calling scrawny? You are a rude, ill-mannered ox.” After the words slipped from her lips, she covered her mouth and lowered her eyes. She didn’t know these men, or if they posed her any danger. She looked to Connor for answers and noticed a large bloodstain on his tunic.

“I’m so sorry, Connor. When I struck out with my dirk, I only meant to defend myself. I dinna know it was you.”

“Dinna fash yourself.” Connor raised his hand to cover his wound. “I’ll be fine.”

“You know this sniveling little varmint?” Alasdair grabbed the collar of her tunic.

Connor yanked his brother’s hand away. “Touch her again, and I’ll break your arm.”

“Her?” Alasdair’s mouth gaped open.

Connor placed his hand on the small of her back and nudged her forward. “I present the Lady Cailin Macmillan. M’lady, these two buffoons are my brothers, Alasdair and Bryce.”

“L-Lady? Are you telling us this is a lass dressed as a lad?” Bryce rubbed his head in confusion.

“They’re not usually this dense.” Connor leered at his brothers. “They have obviously forgotten their manners as well.”

“Forgive me m’lady.” Bryce bowed. “What is she doing here? Why is she dressed like a lad?” he whispered to Connor.

“She did this to escape the English. She’ll be traveling with us to Kildrummy.”

“To hell with manners! A woman will only slow us down.” Alasdair shook his head and clucked his tongue. “This is not the time or place to lose your head over a lass. She can stay the night, but must return to Dunkeld in the morning.”

“I’ve not lost my head or my senses. She needs our help and if she wishes to accompany us, she will have to keep up the pace. Once we arrive at Kildrummy Castle, I’ll turn her over to Robert and that will be the end of it.”

“It is you who will have to keep up with me. I can out ride any man, can handle a cross bow, wield a sword, and fight like a warrior.” Cailin stepped forward, standing toe to toe with Connor’s older brother. “I refuse to go back to Dunkeld. If you won’t help me, I’ll make it to Kildrummy Castle on my own. I’ll not be intimidated.” She stared at Connor. “By anyone.”

Alasdair raised a hairy brow and laughed. “She’s a feisty one, I’ll give her that. But we have a long, grueling journey ahead of us, and I say it is no place for a lass.”

Connor held his hands out in question. “Tell me, brother, would you see her arrested and hanged for a murder she dinna commit? Or mayhap, you would rather see her left behind to be raped and tortured by those lecherous English bastards?”

“She’ll be more trouble than it’s worth,” Alasdair grumbled.

“If you dinna wish to travel with a woman, you can continue the journey alone.” Connor finished what he had to say, then waited for an answer.

“A Fraser stands by his brothers. Where one goes, we all go,” Alasdair conceded. “Where is her horse? I’ll put it with the others.”

Cailin pointed to her palfrey tethered to a tree. “She might be small, but she is a mare with a lot of heart.”

“A lot like her rider.” Connor smiled.

“Have you noticed her limping? She’s not putting full weight on her left front foot.” Bryce approached the mare with his hand outstretched.

“She faltered from time to time, but managed to keep going all day.”

Concerned she may have caused the horse undo pain, she stood behind Bryce while he examined the mare’s foot.

“She’s picked up a stone and bruised the coffin bone in her hoof. If you continue to ride her, it will only get worse.” He slid the bridle over the mare’s head. “We’ll let her go free.”