To Wed A Highlander (33 page)

Leon was at the Pinnacle Tower about to appraise his new wealth in goods when he heard the battle scream. That was no thunderbolt.

He had assumed the distant ongoing clanking of metal swords to be a few Dunstan clansmen fighting for their lives. He glanced up as lightning streaked across the darkened sky, followed by an icy wind. The battlements on two of the towers were empty of men. Instinct told him they had not retreated because of the impending storm. Not a drop of rain had yet fallen, but soon it would be pouring from the sky.

Leon headed toward Canmore Tower. So the Highlander had not left the Lowlands as he had led everyone to believe. It mattered little. Leon still possessed what he had come for. He had Makenna.

“You!” Leon screamed at one of the guards standing in front of the main entrance to the great hall. “Go tell those not standing watch to close and bar the main gate!”

The man scurried away, and Leon continued toward his destination. He was just passing the Black Tower when the wind kicked up and his senses came alive. He stopped cold and his heart began to pound. He was too late. McTiernay was already inside. MacCuaig turned and disappeared.

Conor surveyed the last group of MacCuaigs captured and ordered them to be brought outside the town wall and held with the others. The men obviously had not supported their laird’s decision to attack their neighbor. Too many of them had surrendered rather than fight to their death.

Hearing a rider approach, Conor turned around, whipping his claymore into position. Immediately, his arm slackened at his seeing Drake.

Drake swung off his horse. “Colin sent me to find you.”

Following Conor’s lead, the other lairds dismounted and circled around the young commander as he used a stick to outline Colin’s plan.

Easing back to a standing position, Conor rubbed his chin and then nodded. “Seamus, go tell the men we advance on Lochlen. Colin is ready.”

Makenna wiggled her numb fingers, feeling the coarse rope of her bindings against her wrists. She drew a lungful of air and exhaled. Her breath was briefly visible before it disappeared. She thought about shouting at the guards stationed just outside the door to light the hearth but decided she would rather wait for MacCuaig. Having him delay his intentions until the room was warm might give her the time she needed.

A shout filled the air, then another. Then came the screams. The battle being fought was clearly one-sided and coming from the great hall. Something had changed MacCuaig’s mind about keeping her people alive to be used against her as leverage. They were dying.

Makenna resumed her struggle against her bindings. Tricking MacCuaig into sending her to the solar seemed like a brilliant plan. She could retrieve the sword Camus made for Colin, and with some luck, use it to kill MacCuaig.

Luck, however, had different plans.

First, MacCuaig had not brought her to the solar, but a huge nameless brute. Luck continued to desert her when the soldier conducted an infuriatingly good search of the room. Upon finding a hidden halbert in Colin’s chest, he decided to bind her to a chair rather than leave her free until MacCuaig arrived. After ensuring that the rope could not be untied, he left her to freeze.

She still had hope. The guard had not found the true reason behind her desire to be brought to the solar. Colin’s sword was still hidden. But, unless she could find a way to loosen her bonds, there would be no way for her to retrieve the heavy weapon and attack an unprepared MacCuaig.

Pain shot through Makenna’s arm as more skin ripped against the ropes. She knew her efforts were in vain. Her struggles seemed only to tighten the knots binding her.

Approaching footsteps caught Makenna’s attention. She stilled and prepared her mind for what was about to come. She could hear the door behind her swing open and refused to turn around.

“You are a monster, and Colin will send your soul to hell for what you are about to do,” she promised.

Heavy footsteps approached, and Makenna felt her bindings loosen. A rich-timbred voice vowed softly in her ear, “Aye, he will.”

Suddenly, she was free and in Colin’s arms, his mouth covering hers. Makenna clung to him as he crushed her to him with a savage intensity, seeking proof she was alive, and still his. He moved his mouth over hers, devouring her softness.

Finally, Colin eased his lips from hers. His love for her was abundantly clear in the depths of his blue gaze. She was safe and loved. Colin had come for her, just as she knew he would.

Lifting her hand, she brushed a dark lock freed from its leather bonds and tucked it behind Colin’s ear. There were tears in his eyes. “Colin?”

He planted a gentle kiss across her forehead. “Forgive me. I never knew such terror as I have known these past hours. I love you more than I ever thought it possible to love another. When I saw MacCuaig…with you…I…”

Makenna held his head between her palms. “I wasn’t afraid. I knew you would save me.
And you did,
Colin. You did save me.”

Colin’s eyes swam with doubt. “The baby?” he barely choked.

“Fine. We are fine.” She kissed him briefly, reassuring him that what she said was true.

As she pulled her hands away, Colin was reminded of her bloody wrists. He grabbed her forearm firmly and examined the damage. Suddenly his face contorted into a cold nightmare. Makenna remembered him telling her that she had never seen him angry. He had been correct. For never before had she seen him thus.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked, his voice low and strained.

Makenna pulled free and took a step back. “I did this, Colin. I was struggling against the ropes to get free and I…” Makenna stopped talking. Her explanation was not mollifying Colin, but only inflaming his anger. It suddenly occurred to her that it sounded as if she were defending MacCuaig. “He bound me, but only my wrists were injured. We need to save Doreen and the others. I heard them screaming…”

Colin’s gaze shifted from her wrists to her face and eased a little. Then he took her hand and headed to the solar door. “That was not our clan you heard, that was MacCuaig’s men.”

Makenna stopped short. “Not
our
clan? I thought you…”

“Left them defenseless?”

“No, not exactly. But…”

“But what, love? When I agreed to be the Dunstan laird, it was a decision for life. It was not I who doubted if I should or even could handle the responsibility. The clan needed a reason to join me unconditionally, and I needed a decisive way to determine who had aligned themselves with MacCuaig. If I had not left, it might have taken years for the Dunstans to unite behind my leadership.”

Makenna’s lips parted in surprise. “Why, that is…”

Colin smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “Fiendishly clever?”

“Aye.”

Colin took her hand again and pulled her toward the exit. “Come, we must go. MacCuaig no doubt will be searching for a way to come and retrieve you before he flees.”

Just before they got to the door, Makenna turned and ran to the bed. “Wait! Your sword!”

His brows drew together questioningly as he looked down. His sword was hooked in his belt. Curious to see what she meant, he watched as Makenna ran to their bed and pushed the mattress to the side. The effort revealed a gold basket-hilted broadsword embedded with the same jewels he thought had been buried with Alexander. Makenna must have removed them. From the beginning, she had seen him as the Dunstan laird.

Colin picked up the blade and knew instantly Camus had fashioned it specifically for him. It was perfectly balanced and weighted. The intricate pattern on the hilt was a detailed combination of Lowland and Highland symbols placed in such a way that showed unity rather than opposition or conflict. He knew without asking that Makenna had conceived the unique design.

A booming voice interrupted his awe over the unexpected gift. “Colin!” It was Dunlop.

Clutching the new sword in one hand and Makenna’s fingers in his other, Colin headed toward the door. They rounded the stairwell quickly and soon exited the tower into the frigid night air. Flames from the lit torches around the courtyard flickered wildly in the wind. Drops of rain were beginning to fall, warning of the impending cold, wet weather.

Dunlop was the first to spot Colin entering the courtyard. Seeing Makenna beside him, Dunlop smiled in relief. “Glad to see you, milady.” Then he turned to Colin and spoke. “Lochlen’s men and women remain in the great hall, but they are now being protected by your men. Conor just sent a runner saying the fight is complete and he, Crawford, Boyd and the others should be arriving any moment.”

“What about MacCuaig?”

Dunlop shook his head without attempting to hide his frustration. “We have not found him, Laird, but every entrance has been sealed. There have been soldiers surrounding the castle capturing all who try to flee. He must have left before then.”

Colin briefly glanced at Makenna and gave his commander a speaking glance. “He is still here.”

Dunlop didn’t argue. “Then, there is no way he can leave.” Pointing to the inner gatehouse, Dunlop announced, “Your brother just arrived, and he brought friends…and a woman.”

Colin walked over to meet his allies, grasping the arms of each man in gratitude. He pointed toward the lower hall and asked everyone to assemble in the warm shelter.

Makenna ignored Colin when he indicated for her to follow. Her eyes watched as Conor semidragged Lela Fraser by the arm and into the inner yard. Her hands were bound and a nasty gash cut through her gown had bloodied her upper arm. Seeing the way she favored it, Makenna guessed it hurt.

Conor stopped in front of Colin holding Lela to his side. “This one got a nice reminder of what happens when you betray your own people. Said she was MacCuaig’s woman.”

Lela scowled and stared directly at Makenna. “I am. Leon will protect me, and I will see you dead.”

Makenna raked her eyes over the hateful woman. She felt nothing. Not hate, not pity, not even the desire to engage her verbally. Turning, Makenna reached up and touched Colin’s shoulder. “Don’t bother. She wouldn’t understand anything you said.”

Lela snapped, “You think I am alone, Makenna
McTiernay!
Even your own sister, Ula, hates what you have done. She wanted to know everything! She even wanted to know how she could help me get rid of you.”

Colin looked down at Makenna as Lela continued shouting. He was surprised to find a quiet serenity staring back at him. “Seamus, take her away,” he ordered quietly and linked his arm with Makenna’s before heading to the lower hall.

Upon entering, Makenna immediately sought the warmth of the hearth. Colin joined the men assembled around one of the larger tables. “How’s the battle outside?”

Conor gave a relaxed shrug. “As expected. Most of the noise has been the capture of MacCuaig soldiers. We are holding them until you have decided what to do. Only a few chose to fight.”

“The Dunstans?”

“Very few deaths. The men are separating those who died fighting against the MacCuaigs from those who fought with them. Have you found the vermin?”

“He is still here, cowering.”

“What do you suggest?” Moncreiffe asked.

Colin was about to reply when Makenna stepped forward and offered, “I know one way to get Leon to come out.”

“How is that, Lady Makenna?” Donovan inquired as he stroked his thick gray and yellow beard.

Makenna smiled at the older man known as the Lion. “Appeal to his pride. His warped sense of pride.”

Colin eyed his wife for several seconds and then exited the hall without a word. Everyone followed despite the worsening weather.

Minutes later, Colin reappeared in the courtyard with Lela in tow. “MacCuaig!” Colin bellowed, his voice cutting through the whipping rain. “Show yourself! I give you a chance to fight me, only me, and determine who is the better swordsman.”

Seconds later, MacCuaig stepped out from the chapel enclosure and advanced toward Colin. “And if I win?” His confident swagger was of a man who knew the unmatched level of his skills.

“Then you go free.”

“And what if I want more?”

Makenna watched as Lela smiled triumphantly.

“If you want Lela, you can have her, for if I see her again, I’ll have no qualms returning her to you dead.”

The wind caught Leon’s laughter and distorted the evil sound. “Why would I want her?”

Lela spun around. “Because I helped you! I gave you everything you asked for! Spies, people to weaken the wall, even me.”

MacCuaig spun his sword around in his hand so that the metal blade blinked in the torchlight. “Ah, lovely Lela. You were fun…for a while, but of late you have been burdensome and how can I put it…boring. My tastes have always been for more fiery women,” he finished, staring lustfully at Makenna.

“Her! You told me you wanted to see her dead!”

Leon’s eyes shifted from Makenna to Lela and back again. “I intend to have so much more than just my freedom. I want Makenna.”

MacCuaig paused waiting for Colin’s reaction, knowing that emotion—especially rage—was most debilitating to swordplay. Colin never flinched. MacCuaig narrowed his eyes wondering if he had been correct all along. Colin never did care for Makenna or the Dunstans. Only pride had brought him back to help them fight. “Then again,” MacCuaig continued, “with you gone, I assume there would be nothing in my way of me staying here with my prize.”

“Then you accept.”

“I do.”

Colin turned to his commanders and then to Conor. “You heard the terms. Abide by them. MacCuaig returns to his lands unharmed, and Lela is of no consequence. Regardless of what happens, she is to be banished.”

Conor grimaced and nodded in affirmation. He had heard the terms. Not one MacCuaig soldier had been negotiated and neither was permanent peace part of the package. If by some accident MacCuaig lived tonight, he would return to his lands, but he would not live to see the next day. Conor would invade and exact revenge.

Colin glanced up at the stormy sky as he shrugged out of his leine. The rain was spitting and lightning continued to light the sky. At any moment, it would begin to pour. Colin welcomed the slippery distraction. Battles were fought in all types of weather, and he doubted MacCuaig had spent much time on the battlefield acclimating himself to the elements.