Highland Obligation (Highland Pride)

by Lori Ann Bailey

  “I do ken something. I ken he’s been looking for ye, and he was just on MacLean lands. Probably figured ye were headed home.”

  Relief washed over her when she realized he hadn’t gone to Argyll, or there would have been a whole army out looking for her. It just cemented what she believed—Torsten wanted the recognition for turning her over. His cousin’s praise and admiration meant more to him than anything else.

  “He probably kens ye are wed by now and will come looking for ye.”

  It was important she be vigilant the rest of the journey back.

  “Isobel, ye have a way out. Tell yer husband and be done with this life. Ye deserve to be happy.” She’d seen the priest on many occasions, but never told him of what had happened to her. She also knew her brother had been to this church as well and she wondered for the first time how Ross had felt about that day. He’d changed too. Did he place the blame at his own feet and had he confided in Father John?

  “I will when the threat is gone. He may hurt someone if I dinnae go with him, and if I go he will take me to the earl.”

  The priest’s sharp intake of breath let her know he understood the consequences of turning herself over.

  “’Tis time ye started taking care of yerself instead of everyone else.”

  “I plan to be a good wife.”

  “And soon ye’ll be a mother.”

  Tingles started in her shoulders and seeped down her back to land in her gut. She’d never considered being with child. How could she fight and put that life at risk? And when she had babes, she would have to stay near them and keep them safe.

  How would she keep a wee bairn safe?

  Suddenly, the space was too confining, closing in on her, and her breath came in short gasps.

  His next words barely registered. “Do ye have anything ye wish to confess while we are here?”

  “Aye.” She held her trembling palms up. “I killed three men recently.”

  “Go on.” She heard disappointment.

  “If I hadnae, they would have killed my maid and one of the Cameron men.”

  “I see.” And the resignation in his voice told her that Ross had indeed told the man of the past.

  Despite what her husband and the rest of the Highlands believed, she had killed very few men and each time it had torn at her soul. It never brought her pleasure, only drenched her in sadness that men so cruel had to be dealt with in such a way.

  “Will ye pray for me?” she choked out.

  “Aye, ye ken I will. Now, get back to yer husband, tell him the truth, and leave all this behind. Ye are too good to live life as an outlaw.”

  …

  Isobel’s skin had paled in the time she’d been in the confessional with the short, balding priest. Grant was convinced the holy man had something to do with Alex Gordon’s Resistance movement. The man had amassed an amazing network of spies and informants. And now, Grant was coming to learn too much about the group that sought to fight this war with violence instead of peace.

  As his wife returned to him, the short man hurried up behind. “Was there anything ye would like to be confessing today?”

  “Nae.” Grabbing Isobel’s hand, he dragged her toward the door. He wasn’t going to accuse her of lying in God’s house, so the sooner they got to their room at the inn the better.

  As he stormed out into the early evening rain, his temper rose. Lightning flashed. He saw his uncle’s face. Thunder crashed.

  He was taken back to the day in the clearing. Isobel’s bonny gaze met his and for a moment, they’d both been mesmerized. Until Torsten came upon her. Before he could get to her side, the man’s sword slid across her arm. Then, he turned and saw his friend slashed by one of the men who had attacked their group. His assemblage of men, who had been on their way to Edinburgh to meet with Covenanters and Royalists and agree to a peaceful solution.

  If he’d not been enthralled by Isobel, he’d have been by his friend’s side. His friend might still be alive. But he’d seen Isobel and had been captivated, so much so, that he’d worked his way toward her to keep her safe from the large man hovering over her with a sword.

  It dawned on him it hadn’t been Isobel’s fault, it had been his, for being distracted by her. Damn, he was still distracted by her every day. And here they were out in the open, men hunting her, and until they’d walked into that church he’d only been thinking of bedding her, not the danger she was in.

  He had to get them back to Skye with haste. If he didn’t get her back to safety, he could lose her, too. The faces of people flashed in his head—his uncle, his first wife, Lyall’s brother, then Isobel. He could not lose Isobel.

  “Slow down.” She struggled with holding her skirts.

  “I told ye. Nae more to do with that group.”

  “He isnae one of them.”

  “I amnae a fool.”

  “He just shares information,” she pleaded.

  “Which makes being around him dangerous.”

  “He is safe.”

  “Aye, he may be, but if others ken who he is, someone else may recognize ye. What if someone is watching him? Now they’ll ken ye are here.”

  They reached the inn, and he flung open the door. Not letting Isobel go, he made directly for the stairs. It had been unwise to dine out in the open as well. What if someone had seen her? What if Torsten Campbell was around?

  “’Twas a quick confession, Isobel. I dinnae think ye covered everything.” Boyd chortled from the room, but Grant already had her halfway up the steps.

  Once they were in the room, he bolted the door. “Why were we there?”

  “To confess.” She tilted her chin up at him.

  “Nae. What did ye ask him?”

  “If he had heard where Torsten Campbell was.”

  “I told ye to let me handle that.”

  “Well ye’ve done a fine job of ignoring it from what I can see. Yer no’ handling a thing. Nothing except yer silly quest for peace.”

  His fists clenched. Is that what she thought? That he’d neglected protecting her? He’d considered telling her his plan, but if he did, she might try to stop him, or worse, attempt to be present for the confrontation. She was capable of defending herself, but last time she’d faced Torsten, she’d almost died, and he couldn’t keep his wits if he thought her in danger.

  And did she think his desire to find a solution to the Highlands problems made him foolish?

  She looked at him with soulful brown eyes, remorseful and pleading. She twined her fingers with his, lessening the tension. “I am sorry. ’Tis no’ a small thing to wish peace. I wish it, too, and I admire that ye so openly argue for it. I hope one day I have the faith ye do in humanity.”

  She respected him? He’d not seen past her arguing and mistrustful ways, but the sincerity in her gaze and the honesty in her voice gave him hope they could share more in common than he’d thought possible.

  “Please forgive me for rushing to see the bad instead of the good.” She placed a hand on his chest.

  He nodded, pulled her in, and relaxed at the feel of her in his arms.

  “I never told ye why I was at that battle,” she whispered as she nestled into him. “Those men were going to kill the Cameron brothers because of their religion, no’ because of anything they had done. I kenned ’twould destroy Kirstie if something had happened to them.”

  He knew the Cameron laird and his younger brother had gone to Edinburgh for a meeting that ended with an attack on Royalist lairds. There were other parties attacked on the journey as well, and those groups had not fared as well as his, losing many lives.

  He’d never made it to Edinburgh because of his friend’s death, and he had to concede that if the Royalist Resistance had not been waiting to help his men, everyone in his party, including him, could be dead.

  “I only wanted a peace of sorts. I just wanted my friend’s family safe and I had to watch over Stew. He was too young to be out there. Someone had to protect him.” Isobel continued as his
thoughts simmered, “I just want to keep ye safe.”

  The admission stung, because he wasn’t sure if she had become as attached to him as he was to her. At the same time, it freed the part of him he’d been holding back. “I ken now, ’twas no’ ye I was angry with all this time. ’Twas me for letting my guard down in yer presence the first time I saw ye. If I let that happen again, I’m afraid I could lose ye.”

  As the rain pounded on the window, he tightened his grip, drawing her near. He remembered another day where the rain beat down relentlessly, a battle between two men. It was the afternoon that had colored every moment of his life since. A vision of his uncle’s head falling from strong shoulders after the disagreement with the MacLeods.

  He would not let that happen to his wife. If Torsten Campbell wouldn’t accept his offer, there would be war because he refused to hand the lass in his arms over to the Earl of Argyll.

  Chapter Twenty

  Isobel studied the shadows on the ceiling as she lay in bed alone. She usually treasured her time of solitude, but now she’d grown accustomed to falling asleep with her husband next to her. It had become so easy to be with him and the rest of their group and she found, for the first time in years, she longed for their company instead of shunning relationships. The new sense of belonging frightened her.

  She and Grant had dined in their room tonight, she assumed because he was worried about her being seen, which she had to admit was a valid concern now that she was certain Torsten was looking for her. She wished she could go back and ask the priest if there had been others with him. She needed to know if he’d told anyone, although she doubted it, if someone else took her to Argyll, he wouldn’t get the credit and she knew the Covenanters he associated with were not honorable men.

  Grant had taken her to bed, the pace slow and gentle, but somehow even more intense than their previous bed play. Something had shifted between them and although she wanted to give in to the emotions and throw herself into being a perfect wife for him, she couldn’t afford to until she’d solved the problem of Torsten Campbell.

  If Torsten was looking for her on MacLean lands, she needed to get there to find him before he came across someone she cared about. She’d consider trying to get a message to one of her brothers, but Grant had made it clear any further contact with someone who dealt with the Resistance wouldn’t be tolerated. He wouldn’t even let her go back to the priest to have him deliver her message through the communication chain. Writing and sending a letter through the post was the fastest way to let the news fall into someone else’s hands and then everyone would know who she was, so that option was not viable, either.

  Her best recourse would be to talk to Grant about visiting her family when they returned to Skye. It would be a legitimate trip because there were a few things from home she’d like to bring with her and her family had dropped her on Grant’s island with barely anything that was her own. He would have to let her collect her belongings.

  Grant would probably send for her items if she wished, but how was she to protect him and Annis if she couldn’t take care of the threat? Once Torsten Campbell was gone, she’d devote herself to her husband and new family and she would find a way to fit in.

  At peace with her decision, she finally closed her eyes and hoped she would rest.

  The most vivid dream of that day on the road to Edinburgh invaded her sleep. It was the day she’d first seen Grant. This time, the battle went well and all the Covenanters were defeated. She saw Grant from a distance, but he didn’t see her and he turned with his friend, mounted his horse and rode away without ever meeting her eyes. She called out to him, but he never turned back.

  She woke as Grant’s arm wrapped around her, but the dream had left her hollow. She burrowed into his arms, looking for the security they offered and the assurance that he wouldn’t leave her. She barely slept the remainder of the evening.

  …

  The next day was clear and they left just as the rooster called the last of its crowing. They rode hard all day, only stopping for short meals. That night, intense dreams invaded her sleep, leaving her restless and apprehensive. The one that lingered in her thoughts the following day, making her stomach turn, was the dream about the kitten she’d found on the side of the road. This time when opening the sack, she found a baby, but instead of telling her she should take care of it as he had the furry creature, Grant took the babe and left her on the side of the embankment, telling her she’d never be able to protect something so precious.

  The next several days passed in the same haze as the scenery changed, the mountains becoming higher, the passes more treacherous, and the lavender on the sides of the hills blurring by. Even the air felt cleaner as they moved farther away from the city and the sites of battles she’d witnessed.

  Before she knew it, the sun was setting on another day and they were at the shore waiting for a boat to ferry them across to Cairntay, the MacDonald stronghold that sat high on the cliffs on the other side. Grant’s shoulders relaxed for the first time in days. It gave her a sense of pride in this place to see her husband affected by just the proximity to his home. She was pleased he looked more at ease, but it was almost time to put her plan into motion.

  As the boat slid into the shoreline, Grant took her hand. “Let’s go home.” It sounded like he wanted her there, too, and she should be a part of it.

  “Aye.” She smiled at him as he led her toward the vessel, and she wanted that dream again, the one she’d held as a child, where she had a husband who loved her and a family and didn’t have to think about safety.

  A large black shadow cooled her skin as it slid over her body. A black bird headed in the direction they’d just come from, reminding her she wasn’t safe. And because of her, her husband and their clan weren’t safe, either.

  Boyd escorted the still limping Annis and got her to a railing she could hold on to. Strolling up beside her maid as the boat started its journey across the water, Isobel asked, “Are ye looking forward to seeing yer baker?”

  “Aye, I am. I have missed him terribly.”

  The waters were moving swiftly, guiding the boat out to sea as the men fought against the current, rowing massive oars, shuttling them toward the green hills and rocky cliffs on the opposite site.

  “Ye deserve a few days’ rest. Stay off yer feet and ye can come back next week when ye’ve had time to mend.”

  “Nae, I’ll be fine.”

  “Ye need to let it heal.” And she needed to sneak away. She couldn’t have Annis following her if Grant let her visit her brothers, especially because she might find Torsten Campbell there. Her maid needed to stay on Skye where she was safe.

  “Very well, as long as ye promise me ye will get some sleep. Ye look exhausted.”

  “I havenae been sleeping. I’m having dreams so real I can feel them, and they willnae let me rest.”

  Annis smiled as if she’d just told the lass her biggest secret.

  “What?”

  “Ye are with child.” The lass clasped her hands together.

  “Nae.” She wasn’t ready for that. “Why would ye think something so silly?”

  “When was the last time ye had yer courses?”

  Her fingers curled around the railing as the world tilted. She’d not even noticed, being so distracted by her new environment and then the journey to Edinburgh and the threat of Torsten. How had she missed the signs?

  Her mouth fell open, but no sound came out as it dawned on her that she’d not bled since before her wedding to Grant. She swallowed mixed emotions—fear and delight mingled in equal measure—and her arms prickled as the mist from the water tickled her skin.

  “My older sister calls them mother’s visions. She was plagued with them for both of her pregnancies.”

  Why had she not known these things? What was she going to do?

  A bairn.

  Her hand drifted to her belly as she thought about the tiny life hidden within, someone to protect and guard. A little life who ne
eded to stay close to Cairntay for safety, who would need its mother nearby.

  Who would need her.

  Och, how would she tell Grant?

  He’d never let her leave for MacLean lands if he knew she was with child. Her other hand came to cover her mouth, then she let it fall back to her side. “But I havenae been sick. I thought mothers were always ill.”

  “Nae, only some. I’m certain ye are. I’ve seen it enough with my large family.” Annis laughed.

  She attempted to control the trembling in her fingers. If she’d not shut her mother out all those years ago, maybe she would have known these things. “Ye cannae tell anyone.” Annis looked confused. “Just let me accept it before we say anything.”

  The lass nodded.

  A hand touched the small of her back and she jumped.

  “Och, settle down there. We are almost safe and home.” Grant moved to stand beside her.

  Her husband’s gaze drifted back to the shoreline, his ruggedly handsome features appraising his home as if it was the most beautiful place he’d ever seen, as if he was happy to come back. She had to admit it looked magical and impregnable in the fading light—a combination of the charmed home the child in her had wanted and the fortress the grown woman in her needed.

  She’d never felt that way on MacLean lands. Perhaps it was because she’d never felt safe after the attack.

  Her own gaze drifted in that direction, and she wondered if she would ever feel as he did. Could this place truly give her the security she’d missed all these years? Tears stung at the innocence she had lost. She would never let that happen to her child.

  Would her babe be protected by the Isle of Skye’s cliffs and the strong gray stone of the castle on the hill? Cairntay appeared to be an impenetrable stronghold, and the men told stories of failed invasion attempts where its imposing walls had protected Clan MacDonald.

  Once Torsten Campbell was gone, she thought so.

  Regret took hold because it was her that had put them all in jeopardy, the very thing she’d been trying to avoid. If Argyll discovered who she was, he would come after the MacDonald clan for protecting her. She had put Grant, Annis, and now her babe at risk. She had her own people to protect now and she couldn’t do that and be associated with the notorious group.