How to Forgive a Highlander (MacGregor Lairds)

by Michelle McLean

  “And what reason would we have for lurking, as ye say?” William already knew his answer. But he needed time to come up with a plan that would get him and Rose out of that tent unharmed. The odds of doing so while leaving Lionel unscathed were rapidly disappearing.

  “Why?” Lionel laughed. “A Scot with a vague background and a maid whose mistress is a MacGregor whore? Why else would you be here but to spy?”

  William had known such an accusation would come his way eventually. Frankly, he was surprised it had taken so long once Rose had joined him. Still, he had no intention of admitting such a thing.

  “Oh? And have ye told Ramsay of yer suspicions? I’d hate to see ye punished when ye’re proven wrong.”

  Lionel chuckled. “You’re worth your mettle, I’ll give you that. Such dedication to the role you play.” He slapped his hand against his thigh a few times, dragging out the suspense until William had to clench his hands into fists to keep from twitching.

  “No. I haven’t shared what I’ve learned. Yet. I generally find it best to keep information to myself until I know how it will best serve my purposes.”

  William nodded, his finger straying toward his dagger as unobtrusively as possible as Lionel moved closer. There wasn’t anywhere else for William to go. He and Rose were backed up against the wall of the tent. He didn’t like the way Lionel watched them, looking for an opening to attack.

  “Well,” William said, trying to move Rose to the side. Lionel kept the same distance between them but didn’t stop them from hedging toward the door. What was he up to? “I hate to disappoint ye, but as I said, Rose couldna have been the woman ye saw on the docks. And even if she was—”

  William lunged for him, but Lionel was ready and managed to dodge William’s thrust. He spun, slashing out with his right hand that William noticed too late held a dagger. The blade sliced into his arm. Not deep, but his hand went numb momentarily, and he dropped his sword.

  Lionel raised his own sword, triumph blazoned on his face.

  Then there was a sickening crunch, and Lionel’s eyes widened. He staggered forward, clutching his head, to reveal Rose standing behind him holding a candlestick.

  “Here!” she said, holding out her dagger.

  Why that little…when had she taken that back?

  She tossed it to him and he caught it, turned, and plunged it into Lionel’s chest, piercing his lung. Lionel’s mouth opened in a soundless scream before he slowly slumped to the ground. Rose dropped the candlestick and pressed her hands to her mouth.

  William turned to her, grasping her arms. “Are ye hurt?”

  She shook her head. She seemed dazed, but he didn’t see any wounds or obvious injuries.

  As soon as he’d assured himself she was unharmed, he knelt over Lionel and pulled the blade from his chest, wiping it off on Lionel’s shirt.

  “Well, lass. It looks like ye’ve got yer wish,” William said.

  Rose looked at him, her brow furrowed.

  “We canna stay here now. He might not be able to tell Ramsay about us, but Ramsay will notice his absence. And I’ve no doubt others witnessed the three of us entering this tent. When only two of us depart…”

  “We’re done for,” she said.

  He nodded. “We leave. Tonight. We need to hide him first,” he said, pointing to Lionel’s body.

  He took the dagger and cut a slash in the corner of the tent. “Grab something to wrap around him,” he said.

  She yanked a blanket from the bed and tossed it to him. Between the two of them, they wrapped the blanket around the man and hauled him out. They obscured him the best they could in the woods behind the tent, but it wouldn’t fool anyone for long.

  “That will have to do. We must leave. Now,” he said.

  “Wait,” she said, ducking back into the tent.

  He cursed but followed her back inside. “We must leave,” he said.

  “A moment, please.” She quickly pulled a rug over the bloodstain on the ground and then glanced around. Apparently, everything was to her satisfaction because she nodded her head once and then took off her apron, folding it quickly and shoving it into her bag.

  William had found himself cursing her more often than not since he’d had the misfortune of taking her. But in that moment, he felt only pride and approval at how she was handling the whole situation.

  “Come,” he said, taking her hand. She didn’t question him nor did she give in to the panic that he saw lurking in her eyes. Instead, she took his hand and let him lead her into the night.

  …

  William took her hand and walked her quickly to their fire. A few men looked in their direction, and he muttered something in Gaelic that Rose was pretty sure she was glad she didn’t understand. Then he pulled her to his side, burying his nose in her hair.

  Her heart skipped into her throat at his sudden amorous attentions, so it took her a second to understand what he was saying.

  “Laugh,” he said.

  “Are you crazy?” she managed to say.

  “We need to look like we dinna have a care in the world, lass. Like we’re about to go back to our little fire so I can have my way with ye.”

  Her heart pounded anew. And at the way his breath tickled at her neck. The way his arms held her tight. She needed it right then. Needed him. To drown out the horror she’d witnessed.

  But she had no time to sink in to him. To let him comfort her. Or to wish his words had any hint of reality. She had to pretend to be in love. So they could escape before they were discovered.

  “That might be difficult with your arm bleeding all over everything.”

  He laughed for real at that, and she forced a giggle.

  “Aye, I suppose I’ll need to see to that sooner or later. For now, let’s concentrate on getting out of here alive.”

  She hung on William, hoping it looked as if she hadn’t a care in the world when really her legs were about to give out from under her. She’d clobbered a man over the head with a candlestick and then watched him be stabbed to death. And helped hide his body. Definitely not what she’d expected when she’d slipped into that tent.

  William steered her back to their fire and tumbled her onto the blankets. He kept his back to the main group, hiding their movements as they gathered their saddlebags, shoving inside the few possessions they’d left out.

  “We’re going to wrap these blankets about us and get to my horse as quickly and quietly as possible.”

  “Wait.”

  “We canna wait, lass. What is it?”

  She reached under her skirt and ripped a strip from her petticoat. “We won’t get far if you leave a blood trail so thick even that drunken lot could follow it.”

  She wrapped it around his arm and tied it off, tight. “I’ll do a better job once we get away, but that might keep you from bleeding to death in the meantime.”

  William snorted. “My thanks. Are ye ready?”

  She nodded, thankful he’d had the foresight to keep his horse separate from the others. There were a few laughs and jeers as they stumbled away from their small fire, but no one questioned their sudden desire for privacy.

  She tried to follow him with limbs that had gone numb from shock. He quickly untied his horse and grabbed her around the waist, boosting her up. She scrambled to stay on the horse’s back while William climbed up behind her and took the reins.

  “Hold on, lass,” he said, kicking the horse into a run. But he didn’t go in the direction that they had been traveling.

  “Where are we going?” Rose asked.

  “The last thing we want to do is lead them straight to Glenlyon.”

  “But they already know where it is,” she said over her shoulder.

  “Aye, but they dinna ken that we are connected with them. Right now, all they’ll suspect is that I killed one of our men. But they willna ken why. If we’re caught headed in the direction of Glenlyon, it willna be hard to put two and two together. So, we’ll have to take a more circuitous route.�
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  “Why didn’t we take two horses?”

  “Because I dinna wish to be branded a horse thief along with traitor and murderer. They canna hang me for taking my own horse,” he said not bothering to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

  “Yes, but wouldn’t we travel faster with two?”

  William huffed. “Possibly. Then again, I can keep a much closer eye on ye when ye’re in my arms.”

  She couldn’t stop the shiver that ran through her, and he tightened his arms about her.

  “Besides,” he continued, “taking my own horse willna seem too suspicious. Hopefully, they’ll only assume I’ve gone off on some mission like the other men who have been leaving. If two horses were to disappear, however, it would raise questions, especially as we’d have to steal ye one. With only one horse gone they canna be sure if ye’re with me or no’ or if we’re still together. I might have deserted or ye might have wandered off. They might even think Lionel has dragged ye off for a bit of fun, which will hide his disappearance for a bit longer. The point being, it lends an air of confusion that will only be in our benefit.”

  Rose didn’t say anything more after. With William hell-bent on putting as much distance between them and Ramsay’s camp as possible, she felt it more prudent to concentrate on staying on the horse. Once they got into thicker trees, however, it was necessary for them to slow down. It was too dark and dangerous for them to travel quickly.

  “Shouldn’t we stop?” Rose said. “I want to get there as soon as possible, but I’d like to reach my mistress alive. We can’t see anything in the dark.”

  “No,” William said, weaving the horse through another thicket of trees along a trail that Rose couldn’t see. “We need to get as far away as we can, and it will be easier for them to lose our trail in the thick underbrush here. We must put a fair bit of distance between us before we can circle back around and continue on toward Glenlyon.”

  “But it’s dangerous to travel in the dark.”

  William chuckled. “Nay, lass. Dinna fash. I know these lands well. We are not so far from Glenlyon, in fact. I have traveled through these woods many a time. Ye can rest if ye’d like. I willna let ye fall.”

  She snorted softly. “I’d appreciate that.” She sat silently for all of two minutes before she started questioning him again.

  “Once Lionel’s body is discovered along with your absence, they will surely determine you are a traitor to their cause,” Rose said, “and possibly a MacGregor to boot.”

  “A reasonable assumption.”

  “Then it also stands to reason that they’ll know you’ll head straight for Glenlyon. They might speed up their timeline and come sooner, perhaps right on our heels. It seems our purposes would be better served if we get ourselves to Glenlyon as quickly as possible rather than wasting time trying to fool them.”

  “Perhaps. But as I’ve told ye before, Glenlyon is well aware of the threat Ramsay presents and my kinsmen are vigilant in watching for him. So we willna be going to Glenlyon.”

  Rose twisted in the saddle at that and looked at him with wide eyes. “But we must warn them!”

  William gave her a sharp nod. “Aye, we will. But it is not the Lion of Glenlyon who is in danger. It is my Laird John and his lady. And they do not dwell at Glenlyon, but at Kirkenroch.”

  “What? Why did you never tell me this?”

  “I wasna sure I could trust ye. It’s not knowledge I commonly share with those I do trust.”

  “So you trust me now?”

  “I didna say that,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement. “But as I’m taking ye there now it seems to be a moot point.”

  “Then Lady Alice…”

  “Aye, she’ll likely be there with them. We must go there first and warn them, and then we can send a message to Glenlyon.”

  “Does Ramsay know of Kirkenroch?” Rose asked.

  William shook his head. “I dinna think so. Which is why I’ve taken care to hide our trail. I dinna wish to betray its location.”

  “But will Ramsay not go to Glenlyon first then? Putting them in the greatest danger?”

  “Aye. But Glenlyon is a heavily fortified castle with half the clan residing within its walls. It is well defended and, as I said, already on guard against enemies. Kirkenroch is little more than a ruin with naught but my laird’s family and some loyal workers living there. Should Ramsay ride to the gates of Glenlyon he would find battle-ready men marching out to meet him. But John and his lady…” He shook his head again. “Nay. We must warn them first. Kirkenroch is not such a great distance from Glenlyon. Sending a rider there once we reach them will be sufficient. But we must warn John first. He is who Ramsay hunts.”

  Rose nodded slowly. “How soon will we get there? I fear for my lady.”

  “We should arrive tomorrow if we ride hard through the night. Can ye do that, lass?”

  Rose sat straighter in the saddle and nodded her head. “I can do what I must. Whatever is necessary in order to reach my lady before it is too late.”

  William tightened his arms about her, ignoring the twinge in his wounded arm as another swell of pride replaced his usual irritation with her. She had more courage, strength, and determination than most men he knew.

  She did well, gallantly clinging to the horse despite the exhaustion he knew sapped her strength. But a few hours before dawn he knew they must stop for rest. Her head nodded as she tried not to fall asleep. And his arm ached. He flexed it a little and swayed in the saddle at the sudden light-headedness that hit him.

  They needed to stop. Soon.

  Chapter Nine

  Rose’s head bobbed on her shoulders, jerking her awake once again. She looked around her surroundings. They had slowed their pace, and the horse was now picking its way carefully through the thick trees and underbrush.

  “Are we close?” she asked, patting his hand to get his attention. Then she gasped. His hands were freezing cold. And she could detect a faint tremble when she took his hand in hers.

  “We must stop,” she said. “I think you are losing too much blood.”

  “Aye, we’ll stop soon. A bit of a rest wouldna be amiss,” he said. “The horse could use one too, I’m sure.”

  He tried to make his voice light, but she could hear the weariness.

  “Where are we?”

  “There is a place we can go, not too far ahead. We’ll stop there and rest for a few hours. We are but a couple hours from Kirkenroch now but I dinna wish to arrive dragging a dead horse and half-dead maid.”

  Rose rolled her eyes at that. “You’ll be the one half dead if I don’t get your arm properly bandaged. Why didn’t you stop earlier once we were out of danger? Foolish man.”

  He chuckled, but the weary sound didn’t ease the anxious tumbling of her stomach.

  They reached a clearing where the burned-out remains of a cottage was hidden among the shrubbery. It was beautiful in that hauntingly sad way ruined dwellings had.

  “What is this place?” she asked.

  William brought the horse up to a crumbling wall and dismounted. He reached up to help her slide down, keeping his arms about her when she stumbled. Her legs were numb from sitting astride the horse for so long, and she stretched, groaning at the crack in her back. William smiled and turned to loosely tie the horse at the wall, giving him enough lead to graze.

  “This used to be the gamekeeper’s cottage. I came here often as a child. It’s a good place to be alone with your thoughts.”

  Rose cocked an eyebrow at that.

  “What?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “You don’t seem like an overly thoughtful sort of person.”

  He gave her a mock glare, and she laughed. He took her hand to lead her inside. “I have four sisters,” he said. “Trust me when I say, having a quiet place to escape to was priceless.”

  Rose nodded and looked around. “It’s beautiful here. What happened to it?”

  “I dinna ken. It happened a long time ago. Maybe in one o
f the skirmishes with the Campbell clan over the years.”

  Rose looked back at him sharply. “Are they still a threat?”

  William frowned for a second but then shook his head. “No. After Ramsay’s attack on Glenlyon, Malcolm and the Campbell chief made a truce. Between that and Malcolm’s marriage to Campbell’s daughter, the fighting has ceased. It’s an uneasy alliance, but I think most are weary of fighting. It’s been going on for centuries.”

  Rose raised another eyebrow at that. “What on earth did they fight over?”

  William shrugged again. “Pretty much anything and everything that could possibly be fought over. Let’s get inside and then I’ll answer all yer questions.”

  She noticed anew the pallor of his face and nodded, ashamed she’d kept him outside talking when she should have been tending his arm.

  William went in ahead and made sure the space was safe and unoccupied before ushering her inside. The interior wasn’t much different than the first encampment they had been in with Ramsay. The cottage was little more than a stone floor and four walls. Despite the damage, it was whole for the most part, and once he had a small fire going it proved to be quite cozy.

  “You must let me attend your arm,” she said. William tried to wave her off but she scowled and grabbed his good arm. “You won’t be any good to me or anyone else if you pass out from blood loss or lose your use of that arm. Sit down and quit being so stubborn.”

  He snorted at her but did as she bid. She clucked over him for a few minutes, peeling off the blood-soaked bandage that she had hastily wound about his arm and pulling open the shredded remains of his sleeve to reveal the wound. Parts of the cloth stuck to the wound, and she removed them as carefully as possible. An action she immediately regretted as it pulled at the scabs that had begun to form and started the bleeding anew. Thankfully, it was less than before.

  She took the waterskin and ripped a strip of linen from her petticoat and then carefully cleaned the wound as best she could. He hissed through his teeth a few times but held still through her ministrations. Once it was clean, she ripped another strip from her petticoat and wound it carefully around his arm, tying it tight enough to keep pressure on the wound but not so tight that he wouldn’t be able to use his arm.