Historical Hearts Romance Collection

by Sophia Wilson

  His father looked at him, assessing. “It is a brave and reckless scheme,” he said. “But I admire your conviction, lad. Agreed! A head for a head. But you must not tarry – make your arrangements quickly. Your leadership skills will be put to the test.” He looked at his son with a grudging admiration.

  Alan nodded. He got up and walked out of the room. At the last moment, he glanced back at Jean and her mother.

  Jean was gazing at him, tears swimming in her huge grey eyes. But they weren’t the only thing in them.

  Alan could see something else shining through: love.

  Love. For him.

  It struck him like a ray of warm sunshine on a cold, cold day.

  ***

  “Gather the horses! Prepare the weapons!”

  Alan was barking orders to his men as he strode around the courtyard, carrying a document in his hands.

  Mason, his right-hand man, strode alongside him. They found a bench and spread the parchment on it, grabbing rocks to pin it down and straighten it out.

  “The Gordon castle?” Alan cast an appraising eye over it.

  “Aye. A bit old, but I can’t see that much would have changed,” Mason said.

  Alan looked at it. “I see two pressure points,” he said, pointing to the map of the castle. “Here, and here. If we ambush from this point, taking down their archers, we should be able to gain entry at either spot. We will assess when we get there which is the easiest, or the least guarded.” He rolled up the map, handing it to Mason. “Guard it well. We will need it before we attack.”

  He strode to the center of the courtyard, weaving amongst the horses and men.

  His father and mother had come out and were standing on the steps.

  “Father. Mother.” Alan knelt in front of them. “It would warm my heart to have your blessing on my endeavor.”

  “You have it, Alan,” his mother said. “Only, please, come back alive!”

  “Bring back the head of Adie Drummond, lad,” his father said, gruffly. “And try not to get yourself killed in the process.”

  “I will try,” Alan said, feeling tears welling in his eyes. He looked away, not trusting his voice to speak clearly.

  He strode from his parents, mounting his horse. “Ready?”

  “Aye,” the men responded, brandishing their swords.

  Alan kicked his horse, spurring it into motion. He galloped through the castle gates, the party of men following him.

  Two sets of eyes watched him long after the horses were gone.

  Janet, from an upstairs window, watched the party of men galloping over the fields. She was frowning. This was veering from her plan. Alan wasn’t supposed to attack the Gordons, brokering a deal with his father to take Adie Drummond’s head instead of the farrier’s. No, no, no. For the first time, Janet felt a trickle of fear.

  Jean watched from the window of the laird’s den. Her beloved, riding out to the Gordons, risking his life for her. Jean knew that he wasn’t doing it for her father. He might respect Burns, but he certainly wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble for him, if not for her.

  She felt a warm glow in her belly, spreading outwards through her limbs.

  She had loved him, forever. And that love had deepened, becoming a glowing orb inside of her.

  Her love, riding into battle for her.

  She prayed, harder than she had ever prayed before. Please God, let him be safe. Return my father and my love to my side.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Alan rode on, down valleys and over glens, on the way to Clan Gordon.

  Adie Drummond. He had never met the man, but knew he had been locked in land disputes with his father forever.

  And now he had promised to take his head, so that Burns Maxwell could keep his.

  He knew it was the only way. He liked Maxwell – he was a good farrier, and a pleasant and loyal man. He had never caused any trouble before. That was what was so mysterious – how did a man, who had been a loyal subject his whole life, suddenly turn traitor? Alan shook his head, trying to figure it out. Something was wrong with the whole picture. It just didn’t make any sense.

  Admittedly, he couldn’t explain Maxwell’s behavior. And that was what had led his father to draw his conclusions. There was no evidence, but there was no other explanation. His father was a rash man, but he had to be, on occasion. Sometimes a laird had to make quick decisions, based on the information available.

  He felt a prickling of unease. He didn’t think that Maxwell was guilty. But what – or who? – had led him to ride into the night, straight into the heart of enemy territory?

  Frowning, he spurred his horse on. It no longer mattered. To save Maxwell, he had to kill Adie Drummond.

  It was as simple as that.

  ***

  Leith Ross had come back into the den, walking up to the two women.

  “You are both very lucky,” he said. “My son has a kind heart. There aren’t many who would do what he has done, to save you.”

  “Don’t you think we know that?” Jean cried. “He might be killed! I never asked for any of this!”

  “Hush, daughter,” Brenda soothed. She took Jean in her arms, hugging her tightly. Both women looked tired and drained, like they could barely keep standing.

  “Laird Ross!”

  The laird turned. There was a servant in the doorway.

  “Begging your pardon, laird, but there is a messenger here. He says he has come from the Clan Gordon!”

  “What trickery is this?” Leith strode to the door. “He says he is come from the Gordons?”

  “Aye,” the servant said. “He says he has ridden all night, and must speak with the laird. He has an important letter to deliver.”

  Leith frowned, thinking.

  “Well, it cannot hurt to see the rider,” he said. “Bring him in. But make sure men are stationed in here – I will not become the victim of an assassin’s blade.”

  The servant left and then returned with a short man with bushy eyebrows and wild dark hair. He introduced himself as Rory Young.

  “My lord.” The man knelt at Leith’s feet. “I have an important letter to deliver from Adie Drummond, laird of the Clan Gordon.”

  “Give it then, man,” said Leith, holding out his hand.

  Young handed the letter, sealed with red wax and stamped with the Gordon seal.

  Leith ripped it open, scanning it quickly. Then he stopped, going back over it. His eyes widened in amazement. He slowly sank into a seat, his eyes glued to the parchment.

  “The saints preserve us,” he whispered. Then he roused himself, turning to Young.

  “This is genuine?” Leith looked at the man. “Everything that is said in here is the truth?”

  “Aye, laird,” Young answered.

  Leith ran a hand through his hair, thinking. Then he started laughing. The sound started small, before filling the den, startling Jean and Brenda who were still entwined in the corner. Young, the messenger, stared in astonishment at the laird who was shaking with paroxysms of mirth.

  Then he stopped, just as suddenly. He ran to the doorway, yelling.

  “A rider, quickly! Someone must ride to my son and his party – immediately!”

  A man appeared at the doorway. “Laird?”

  “A rider! Find my son – he must not attack the Gordons!”

  ***

  The rider was sent out, told to ride like the wind and find Alan before the attack could take place. He must stop Alan on pain of death.

  Jean and her mother looked at each other, perplexed. What was going on?

  Rory Young was sent to the kitchen for refreshment after his long ride, and Leith came back into the den. He turned to the two women.

  “You’ll be pleased to know,” he said, “that your good husband and father is entirely innocent, and has been cleared of any wrongdoing. Why he suddenly went to the Gordons is still a mystery, but the fact remains – he is no traitor.”

  Jean and Brenda could scarcely believe their
ears, hugging each other tightly while tears of joy fell down their faces.

  “I told you!” said Jean, wiping her eyes. “I know my father. He has never been, nor ever could be, a traitor!” She crossed herself, looking upwards in thanks.

  “It seems that Laird Drummond’s horses have been plagued with hoof disease, and Maxwell has stopped it. Saved his horses from wasting away. Laird Drummond thanks me for sending such a talented farrier to help him, although Lord knows, I did no such thing. Perhaps Maxwell heard of the Laird’s problems through another source, I just don’t know.” He paused.

  Jean and Brenda were agog, waiting to hear more.

  “Anyway, Laird Drummond is so grateful he is extending the hand of friendship to our clan! He wants to sit down and reason about our land disputes, enact a reconciliation. What do you think about that? Your good husband and father has brokered a truce.”

  Brenda spoke, her voice wavering slightly. “From the bottom of our hearts, we thank you, laird. For sparing our husband and father. For showing mercy.” Her voice caught for a moment and then she continued. “We always knew he was innocent. He is a loyal and good man. It is only as we always knew.”

  “How did he know?” Leith spoke as if to himself. “How did he know the Gordons needed help?”

  The two women looked at him. They had no idea, either.

  “Let us just hope the rider gets to Alan in time. We have no need of Adie Drummond’s head in a sack now.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Alan was crouched behind a rock, spying the main gates of the castle.

  “The guards change at the noon hour,” he said. “That will be our chance. I will lead a small party of men away into the castle, while the rest of you ambush. Distract them. I will try to get to Adie Drummond and do the deed.”

  The men nodded. They were ready for battle.

  “Rider approaching!”

  The men turned, watching the rider who was wearing the Grant tartan. He galloped to them, sliding from the saddle and approaching them.

  “I have a message of urgency from the laird.” The man was panting. “You have to stand down. You are not to attack the Clan Gordon. The laird has had word that the farrier has cured the Gordons’ hoof disease and a truce is declared between the two clans.”

  Alan stared. “Is it true?”

  The man nodded.

  Alan slowly sank back down. A smile spread across his features.

  “But this is wonderful news!” He looked at the men. “The farrier is innocent! I knew it!”

  He thought for a moment and then turned to his men again.

  “I think we should approach the castle gates,” he said. “Ask for entry. We can speak to Maxwell ourselves, and escort him home.”

  He couldn’t stop the smile getting wider.

  Jean was saved.

  ***

  Leith saw them in the distance, the party of men approaching.

  “My son returns!” he yelled. “Food and ale in the grand hall!”

  The people scattered, doing their laird’s bidding.

  The party of men trooped into the courtyard, sliding off their horses.

  Jean spotted Burns straight away. “Papa!” she cried, running to her father and enveloping him in her arms. Brenda wasn’t far behind. The three of them hugged as if they would never let go.

  Alan watched them, smiling. He wouldn’t disturb them, for the moment.

  The men trailed into the hall, where a multitude of dishes and ale awaited them. They swooped on it, tucking in with abandon.

  “Well?” said Leith, looking at his son. “What happened?”

  “The rider got to us in time,” he answered. “We were almost ready to ambush. Instead, we approached the castle gates and requested entry. The Gordons were very hospitable. Adie Drummond said he looks forward to when you both sit down to broker negotiations. He was so grateful that Maxwell had been such a help with their problem of hoof disease.”

  Leith nodded. “Have you spoken to Maxwell? How did he know they had an issue, and why did he take off without informing anyone?”

  Alan smiled grimly. “Someone told him to go. Said it was on your command.”

  “Who?” Leith looked perplexed.

  Alan looked across the hall, to where Janet stood, surveying the proceedings with an anxious look on her face.

  Leith followed his glance.

  They watched the lady, until she turned her face their way.

  Her breath caught in her throat and she froze, like a fish caught in a net.

  ***

  Janet was packed and gone before the day was out. Leith made sure of that.

  “That woman is not to be trusted,” he said. “We cannot allow you to marry someone so manipulative. It is like having a viper in our nest. You never know when she will next strike.”

  Janet had remained haughty until the end, refusing to acknowledge anyone as she rode away, back to her own castle and her long-suffering father.

  “I must say, this is all for the best,” she said loudly, as her horse was led away. “Such a backwater! So better in my own castle.” She tossed her hair imperiously.

  They never saw her again.

  “I must say, I am glad she didn’t marry our Alan,” Lady Margot whispered. “I never liked her.”

  Alan nodded. He wouldn’t contradict her. He had more important things to do.

  He found Jean on the staircase, resting her hand on the balustrade.

  “My love,” he whispered softly as he approached her. She turned, startled.

  “Alan! Oh, Alan!” she cried out, running to him.

  He reached for her and then they were in each other’s arms. It felt like forever since they had been this way.

  He kissed her, gathering her up into him. They were both breathless when they broke away.

  “Is it true?” she whispered. “About the Lady Janet?”

  “It is true,” he said. “She deliberately sent your father to the Gordons to get him into trouble. But what she didn’t realize was that the Gordons were having issues with their horses! She had made it up, but it turned out to be the truth. So really, we should thank her. Not only did she make your father a hero, but she instigated the truce between the clans!”

  “I don’t think she would be happy about that,” Jean remarked.

  “No,” Alan agreed. “Her face was so sour when we confronted her she could have spoilt the milk! But she knew the game was up. She didn’t try to deny it. Father has sent her packing.”

  “She’s gone?” Jean couldn’t believe her ears.

  “She’s gone,” Alan confirmed. “Forever. Never more will Lady Janet weave her web of evil in this castle!”

  “Oh, Alan.” Jean collapsed against him, overcome.

  “But that’s not the only thing,” he said. He looked at her and then slowly sank to his knees.

  “Jean, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  Jean gasped. “Alan, it’s not possible! I am still a kitchen maid!”

  “I have talked to my father,” Alan said. “Because of the service that your father has done for our clan, he is willing to overlook the difference in our stations. He has given his consent. He said I can marry you – if you say aye, of course.” He looked at her expectantly.

  Jean burst into tears. “Aye!” She could barely contain her happiness.

  Her father was safe. Her family was back together.

  And now, she was to marry Alan – the man who had been her secret love, forever.

  ***

  There was great rejoicing in the Castle of the Clan Grant the day that Alan took Jean as his wife.

  The church bells rang all day long, and the feasting went well into the night.

  Not that the new husband and wife knew.

  They had stolen away from the banquet, and ridden to the loch, where they lay side by side on its banks, gazing at each other.

  “I can’t believe it,” Jean whispered. “I am to be the lady of the Castle!�
�

  “Believe it,” Alan whispered back. “You have always been a lady, by nature. Now it is official!”

  They turned and kissed. Side by side, forevermore.

  THE END

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