My Wild Highlander (34 page)

Lachlan leapt onto the bareback horse behind
Angelique and followed Rebbie's and Dirk's mounts at a fast gallop
out the unmanned, open gates.

"Follow them!" someone shouted from
behind.

***

Hoof beats thundered behind them on the race
toward Draughon.

"Damned whoresons!" Lachlan held Angelique
tightly before him on the horse and glanced back. Two of Kormad's
men gave chase.

Draughon's iron gates came into view. "Open
the gates!" Lachlan yelled.

The guards moved quickly, obeying his orders.
The horses galloped through and into the empty bailey. The gates
clanged shut behind them.

"Where is everyone? Were all the men killed?"
Lachlan leapt down and helped Angelique dismount.

"I don't know," Rebbie said. "We took a dozen
to Burnglen with us."

Since the secret passageways had been
breached, Lachlan didn't know what to expect. Drawing his sword, he
ran up the steps and yanked open the door to the crowded great
hall.

Kormad and Girard jerked around to face him,
their eyes bulging.

"What the hell are you two doing here?"
Lachlan's first instinct was to gut Girard, then Kormad. But
caution froze him to the spot. "Who allowed them entrance?" This
was his and Angelique's home, and these knaves stood here as if
they owned the place.

"Get Lady Angelique out of here!" one of his
guards yelled. "They have turned everyone against you." He sat in
the corner, his face bloody, hands behind his back.

Kormad smashed the man in the jaw with his
fist, and he keeled over. "Well, that's one of your last loyal men,
MacGrath. I'll let you guess who the other one is." Kormad
chuckled.

Another guard in the room, apparently
unharmed and free, averted his gaze. What about the guard at the
gate outside…also a traitor? Or loyal? Several Drummagan clansmen,
guards, and those holding other positions, stared at him with hard,
accusing eyes. Where was Bryson, his sword bearer and war leader?
And Heckie? How many had turned traitor?

Lachlan glanced behind himself to find
Angelique standing before Rebbie and Dirk, safe for now, but
wide-eyed and pale.

"You will leave now!" Lachlan commanded his
enemies.

Kormad laughed. "The Drummagan clan kens of
your misdeeds, MacGrath. 'Haps your wife doesn't know the whole of
it yet. Murder. Rape."

"You thrice cursed whoreson!" Lachlan forced
himself not to act on his impulses. He wanted to launch himself at
Kormad, sword slicing. But they were greatly outnumbered. He backed
toward Angelique.

"MacGrath raped these two women." Kormad
indicated Fingall's wife, mock weeping, and Neilina, who
glared.

"You are insane!" Lachlan said. "I did not
touch either of them."

"We have witnesses. Several, in fact. We know
you killed the French lad, Philippe. We have proof."

Behind him, Angelique gasped. "Philippe is
dead?"

"Aye, ask your husband about it."

"I know naught of it," Lachlan said.

"We found your dagger in his back," Kormad
said.

"You took my weapons when you knocked me on
the head and captured me."

"Angelique murdered a man in France last
year," Girard said.

"More lies," Lachlan seethed, his hatred of
Girard raged. It took all his strength not to lop the man's head
from his body. "You are the rapist and I intend to see you
pay."

"Not to worry, my friends." Kormad addressed
the Drummagan clan. "I have sent one of my men to report their
crimes to the constable and magistrate. Seize them!"

Lachlan stepped back, shielding Angelique.
"Protect her."

Dirk and Rebbie raised their swords. Standing
back to back, the three of them formed a triangle with Angelique at
the center. Lachlan held her hand in his left.

"You wish to kill more innocent people, I
see," Kormad said. "Things will go easier if you give yourselves up
and admit to your crimes."

"We have committed no crimes. You and this
damned Frenchman are the criminals—rapist, murderer and thief."

"'Twill do you no good to fight. I have
already shown the clan the legal papers," Kormad said. "The former
chief, John Drummagan, married my sister in secret and they had a
son. Timothy, as the sole legitimate male heir of John Drummagan,
is the rightful earl. I am his guardian and therefore will serve as
chief until he comes of age."

"'Tis lunacy! Are you telling me you believe
this man's lies?" Lachlan asked the Drummagan clan, men he thought
loyal. Men he trusted. "You swore your allegiance to me. And yet
you believe this outlaw's lies over your own chief?"

Several men of the clan dropped their gazes.
Others glared at him, eye to eye.

"False papers are easy to draw up. False
witnesses are easy to find if you pay them enough, aye, Kormad? I
wager constructing this web of lies has cost you a large sum."

"It has cost naught, because 'tis all
true."

"
Oui
, and I come to take this
murderess back to France. She will have a trial." Girard's gaze on
Angelique held an unholy gleam. Lust combined with deep hatred.
Lachlan could not allow Angelique to fall into his hands at all
costs. She would suffer more than death. The three of them could
not fight Kormad, Girard, their men, and the whole Drummagan
clan—not and keep Angelique safe. He should've kept the king's
retainers a few more weeks. Now, aside from his two good friends,
he had no men to help him fight.

"Rebbie, Dirk, we are going out the way we
came in," Lachlan said.

"Stand aside!" Dirk yelled.

Slowly, they retreated through the front
door. Lachlan and Dirk barricaded the castle door from the outside
with several large stones they rolled from the side. "Hurry! To the
stables. They'll follow."

Two of Kormad's warriors on foot rushed them,
swords drawn—the men who'd chased them on the road. Rebbie engaged
one; swords clanged. Dirk ran the other through on the second
strike, then helped Rebbie.

"After you kill him, make sure the gates are
open," Lachlan yelled. Angelique in his arms, he carried her toward
the stables.

"I cannot believe how my kin has betrayed
us," she said. "What must we do?"

"Angelique!" Camille trotted from the kitchen
garden.
"Grâce à Dieu!"

"Where have you been?"

"Hiding. Girard would see me dead."

"Saddle five fresh horses," Lachlan ordered
the stable lad and set Angelique on her feet.

"I already have, m'laird." He led one from a
stall. "I knew you'd be needing them when you arrived."

"Where will we go?" Angelique asked. She
looked so small and pale, her big green eyes trusting, depending on
him to keep her safe. Lachlan had failed so miserably, he didn't
deserve her trust anymore, but he was glad for it nonetheless.

Determined to make up for his faults, he set
about testing the saddles and strength of the girth straps. He
would save her life if he did naught else.

"I wouldn't sabotage your saddles, m'laird. I
ken Kormad is the biggest liar in all of Scotland. I shall be your
eyes and ears whilst you are gone."

"I thank you. Stay safe." Lachlan turned to
Angelique. "Can you ride alone?"

"
Oui
."

He helped the two women mount, then did so
himself. Once Rebbie and Dirk took to their horses in the bailey,
they all galloped through the gates. He glanced back to see the
clan pouring from the doors.

***

"Where are we going?" Angelique asked Lachlan
two hours later when they stopped, dismounted and allowed the
horses to drink at a stream. Rolling fields and a few bushes
surrounded them. All she knew was they were riding north toward the
Highlands, toward the brown, rounded peaks of the Cairngorms she
could see in the distance.

"MacGrath holdings. Kintalon Castle," he
said. "The clan of my birth won't turn on us so quickly." Dried
blood and golden brown stubble covered Lachlan's jaw. Dirt and
blood smeared his shirt and plaid. But his expression bothered her
most; the playful charmer had vanished, and in his place was this
frowning warrior with a hard mouth and fierce eyes.

"Why did you not ask the nearby clans we have
alliances with for their help?"

"If the Drummagan clan can turn on us so
easily, so can any of the other clans if they believe Kormad's lies
and false papers. But I trust my brother with my life and yours.
'Tis the only place I know with certainty you'll be safe."

He was most concerned with her safety? She
could not look him in the eye after that. Her clan shamed her. She
could not believe they had betrayed her and Lachlan so easily.

"Kormad and Girard are the most malicious men
I have seen," she said. "I know one of them killed Philippe." He'd
been her friend when few others had, and she would miss him. But
he'd never possessed a piece of her heart as Lachlan did.
Nevertheless, Philippe had never hurt anyone and didn't deserve to
be murdered in cold blood. If not for her, he wouldn't have been in
Scotland. So in some small way, she blamed herself.

Lachlan observed her closely, his gaze almost
cutting. "Greed, revenge—they are powerful motivators."

"What shall we do? We cannot simply allow
Kormad to keep Draughon."

"And I won't. But first I must make certain
you're safe. I cannot protect you and fight those two and their men
at the same time. Besides, now that the clan is on his side, I have
no fighting men. I am bright enough to ken when to retreat and
gather forces. The MacGrath clan is larger than the Drummagan clan,
and I wager, will be willing to come to our aid."

"I thank you for protecting me," she said in
a low voice.

"You don't have to thank me for that." He
strode away to wash his face and arms in the peat-tinged water of
the nearby stream.

She was thankful they'd escaped Kormad's
clutches, but what if she and Lachlan could never go home to
Draughon?

***

Before dusk, they arrived at a small derelict
castle where, Angelique learned, an acquaintance of Lachlan and
Rebbie, from their academy days, lived. This jovial baron fed them
well, then Camille and Angelique stayed the night in a private
bedchamber.

Lachlan, Rebbie and Dirk slept on the great
hall floor with the rest of the men of the household. Though her
bed was comfortable, she missed Lachlan's hard, hot body spooned
against her back. They might never lie that way again. Sleep was
elusive, and nightmares of Girard and Kormad plentiful.

Before daybreak the next morn, they quickly
ate and set out on their journey, before Kormad and his men could
catch up to them…if they were following. The baron provided
supplies—blankets, tents and food—to see them through should they
not have anywhere to stay the next night.

Lachlan looked a might better this morn,
having washed up and borrowed clean clothing from his friend.
Still, his expression remained shuttered, determined.

All that day, they rode hard. The mountains
of the Cairngorm rose up around them. Through the mist, she
glimpsed patches of snow at the tops of some mountains. She had
never been this far north into Scotland and found the landscape
both stark and beautiful. Black clouds gathered overhead and the
north wind blew chilly.

Lachlan stopped and dismounted. He pulled a
woolen plaid blanket from the collection of supplies, wrapped it
around Angelique and covered her head. His touch was gentle but
efficient, his mood distant.

"
Merci,
" she said.

"Tell me if you get cold."

She nodded.

"Can you wrap a blanket around Camille?"
Lachlan asked Rebbie and returned to his horse.

Suddenly, she missed that intimate, lingering
gaze Lachlan used to bestow on her. She did not even know why she
wished to see it again from a man of his sort. This was just one
more thing reminding her that her dreams of love were indeed
foolish.

Once they commenced riding again, a thin
misty rain sprayed through the air, making Angelique doubly
thankful for the tightly woven blanket keeping out most of the
dampness. Clearly, she was not a Highland lass, but Lachlan seemed
in his element.

At sundown, the rain stopped but the cold
remained. They dismounted in a sheltered area beneath trees, no
castles or crofts in evidence anywhere.

The men unloaded supplies. In the dusky
light, she and Camille gazed out toward mountains that seemed
somehow welcoming but gloomy. Low, brown vegetation covered them,
heather perhaps, but no trees. This was such a different world from
the green, bushy Lowlands.

Footsteps approached. "Lady Angelique, could
I have a word?" Dirk asked.

"Oui."
How unusual. He rarely said
anything to her beyond a greeting.

Camille sauntered away.

Dirk's sharp blue gaze sliced through a
person. He appeared most serious, but his cheeks were ruddy. "In
truth, 'twas me with Neilina that evening in the south tower.
Lachlan wouldn't be unfaithful to you."

Angelique had no response to that. Had
Lachlan told him to say this, or had she indeed spied on this man
in carnal relations with a woman? Her face burned. She wished he
spoke sincerely, but she knew better than to take any man at his
word. No, now her
naiveté
and innocence were dead. "I have
no proof of that. Whoever I saw looked exactly like Lachlan and…my
cousin said his name."

Dirk frowned. "She did call me Lachlan, but I
didn't correct her because I was pretending to be him. It was my
duty to see if she was Kormad's spy. 'Tis clear she was. I've known
Lachlan more than ten years and he has never taken to a lass as
he's taken to you."

"He's married to me so he has to maintain a
credible façade."

"God's truth, he is smitten with you, though
likely he'll never tell you that. 'Tis all I wished to say. I bid
you good eve." He gave a shallow bow and strode away.