Reckless Scotland

by Vane, Victoria

  Instilled with a renewed determination, Aaron launched to his feet. With a clipped pace, he strode across the rocky terrain to the front gate, fashioning a plan of action along the way. Not that he truly had one. Especially when that one large, crucial detail remained, blocking his path to Mairi.

  How the devil was he to get past MacGregor?

  Saints, ’twas a mercy Aaron still drew breath at that point. He couldn’t descend on the man’s door and demand Mairi’s hand in marriage.

  As soon as he cut the corner, passing through the gate to enter the courtyard, his step faltered. A few yards ahead, Connor stood with Niall, both men’s gazes locked on him.

  His brother motioned to the parchment Aaron had almost crushed in his haste. “Well?”

  Bemused, he narrowed his eyes. “Well, what? How long have the pair of you waited here?”

  “Since I gave you the letter,” Connor stated with an air of irritation.

  Niall blurted in a gruff growl, “Are you going after the woman or not?”

  “What if I were?” Aaron asked with genuine curiosity.

  His brother snorted. “About damned time, I would say.”

  With a quirk of his lips, Niall shrugged. “You’re making the biggest mistake of your life if you do not.”

  A grin stretched over Aaron’s mouth. “The two of you have the right of it.”

  Connor released a loud whoop that resounded through the courtyard, while Niall cuffed Aaron’s shoulder. His brother rushed forward, catching him in a hearty embrace.

  “Mayhap, I should’ve given you the missive sooner.”

  Aaron thwacked his brother’s back. “Nay, you chose wisely.” As he released Connor, he darted a glance at Niall. “I still have her brother to worry over.”

  Frowning, his friend grunted. “I could see MacGregor posing a problem.”

  “I shall speak to him,” Connor volunteered. “The whole affair was my fault to begin with.”

  Aaron tossed an incredulous stare at his brother. “Nay, you shall not. If anything, I need you to stay with the clan while I’m gone.”

  “Do you wish to send a messenger ahead to announce your arrival?” Niall suggested.

  Aaron said, “I hardly think that shall lessen the sting. I intend to go on my own.”

  Niall shook his head. “I’ll travel with you.”

  “Nay, my friend, I—”

  “Does not matter.” Niall lifted his broad chin. “I’m going with you.”

  “When do you plan to depart?” Connor asked.

  “Just after nightfall.” Aaron reasoned with a half-night’s ride, he should arrive in the morn.

  “I’ll arrange our horses and food from the kitchens.” With a tip of his head, Niall lumbered toward the stables.

  Connor peered at Aaron with a dubious stare. “Are you certain you are up for the task of facing MacGregor? The man’s a rather imposing figure.”

  “Aye, I’m well aware.” He’d rather face a pack of hungry wolves than MacGregor, but what other choice was there? None, if he wanted to reach Mairi. The only way to accomplish the feat was to charge headlong into her brother and hope for the best.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The midmorning sun stretched higher in the cloudless blue sky as Aaron waited on horseback with Niall outside the MacGregor walls. Gusts of chilled wind numbed his face and hands, but he made no bid to move. For the past half-hour, he’d stared steadily across the clearing at the closed gate, heedless of the villagers who’d stepped out of their cottages to gather on the outskirts of the surrounding settlement.

  None of the MacGregors spoke a word to either him or Niall. Instead, they exchanged eager glances and whispers amongst themselves. No doubt, the clan anticipated their laird’s wrath every bit as much as Aaron.

  Once the front gate rose with a foreboding clang of iron and shifting gears, his trepidation grew by leaps and bounds. Within moments, the large, bulky form of Calum MacGregor stalked outside the courtyard, flanked by two men. Aaron recognized them as the man’s cousin, Liam, and his commander, Symon. If he hoped for a warm reception, their daunting countenances and drawn weapons dissuaded Aaron of the notion.

  After a long, swift ride through the eve, Aaron shook off the fog of exhaustion and released a deep rush of air. He gripped the hilt of the sword at his side, hoping with all his might he’d not have to use the blasted thing.

  “Are you even certain you remember how to wield a damned sword?”

  Craning his neck, he met Niall’s sidelong stare with a dark look of his own. “Of course, I do.”

  Though, in truth, misgivings lingered in his mind. He’d not handled a blade in almost a year, aside from building furniture. He was every bit as capable with a sword as most, but his skill had no doubt suffered without a lick of practice. His best prospect leaned toward MacGregor not outright killing him on sight. After a quick glance across the clearing at the bullish man, the possibility of his death seemed more than likely.

  Aaron removed his mantle, slinging the cloak over the pommel of his saddle, and moved to dismount his gelding. For several moments, he lingered at his horse’s side long enough to gain his legs. Every inch of his stiff body screamed in protest as he straightened his spine.

  “I’ll join you,” Niall volunteered.

  “Nay, stay here.” Over the saddle, he met his friend’s worried gaze. “I need to do this alone.”

  “I cannot protect you from here, Aaron.”

  “’Tis not your place to, old friend. This is my battle. Hold firm and watch yourself,” he ordered, disregarding Niall’s glower of disapproval.

  You do this for Mairi. He repeated those words over and over in his head, bolstering his waning confidence. Swallowing his bout of nerves, he rolled the tightness from his neck and shoulders and spun on his heel to face MacGregor, who’d paused midway across the clearing with the two men at his sides.

  With a self-assured nod, he grasped the hilt of his longsword and began the uneasy march forward. As he drew nearer, MacGregor’s scarred features twisted with an imposing scowl. His icy blue stare locked on Aaron, carefully watching every slight movement. The big man’s grip tightened around the drawn sword at his side.

  Halting a few yards away, he tipped his head in acknowledgement. “MacGregor.”

  “Draw your weapon.”

  Aaron did not mistake the lethal menace in the other man’s tone. “I’d hope we might have a word.”

  “Draw your damned weapon.” MacGregor spoke with a slow precision, enunciating each word.

  Within the next heartbeat, MacGregor lifted his blade and Aaron scrambled to snatch his sword from the scabbard at his side. He hefted the weapon in the air just as the larger man’s heavy blade came down, clashing with Aaron’s sword in a jolting ring of steel.

  Unprepared for MacGregor’s swift advance, he leaped backward a few paces, disengaging their weapons. Attempting to affect a defensive stance, he raised his sword as MacGregor charged at him, swinging the heavy blade at Aaron’s head. Parrying the powerful blow, he struggled to keep his footing and his head attached to his person.

  Mairi’s brother was relentless. Aaron dodged and weaved each heavy-handed blow, desperately hoping to tire the larger man. Alas, MacGregor pushed his advance with invigorated strength, charging full force at Aaron. He grappled to keep pace with the other man. Not that he truly intended to strike out at MacGregor. Instead, he defended each swing with a parrying thrust. The muscles in his arms and shoulders burned from his efforts, while he labored to draw in air.

  Growing weary, he jumped aside, his foot snagging on a rock, just as MacGregor swung his imposing blade. The edge nicked Aaron’s arm, scoring his skin with stinging pain. Caught off guard, he lost his footing and tumbled backward to the hard-packed ground, the sword clattering from his grasp. Scrambling to grab the weapon, he could not recover from his blunder quick enough before the sharp tip of MacGregor’s blade was poised within a hairsbreadth of his neck.

  “Do y
ou yield?” MacGregor glowered down at him.

  Aaron frowned at the query. “I do not suppose I have a choice in the matter.”

  The big man snorted. “Your sword arm’s shite.”

  Rolling his eyes, Aaron dropped his head on the ground while he panted to draw in air. “Your hospitality’s shite.”

  The blade pushed into Aaron’s neck. “Do not push me, MacRae. You’re fortunate I’ve allowed you to breathe.”

  Aaron would not dispute the truth of the man’s words. MacGregor could’ve easily dispatched him without a great deal of effort. Why the man had not puzzled Aaron.

  MacGregor moved the blade away, his gaze narrowing. “I do not like you in the least.”

  “I’m not avidly fond of you either,” Aaron muttered.

  “I have a damned good reason for my dislike, if you remember.” MacGregor upper lip twisted with distaste. “You stole my wife and my sister. ’Tis not something I shall forget.”

  Aaron admitted, “There’s no apology adequate to excuse my actions that day.”

  “Nay, there’s not.” In the next breath, MacGregor admitted, “Howbeit, I comprehend the reasons for your actions, but you should’ve spoken to me first. I would’ve helped you and your brother any way I could’ve.” He tilted his head. “Now, tell me. Why are you here?”

  “You know why,” Aaron replied in a droll tone.

  The other man lifted his chin. “Why should I allow you to see her?”

  With a deep sigh, Aaron used two fingers to shove aside the sharpened edge entirely too close to his throat. Thankfully, MacGregor permitted the action. Hefting himself to sit upright, he propped his elbows on his raised knees and peered up at the man.

  “Why did you not end my life?” he countered.

  For a moment, the laird gazed at him while considering the question. At last, he grunted. “Because she loves you.”

  “And I love her,” Aaron retorted.

  “Then, why the devil has it taken you a fortnight to come for her?” MacGregor accused, “Hell, you waited a blasted year before that. What has changed?”

  Dropping his head to stare at the dirt at his feet, Aaron stated, “I realized I cannot live without her. Though, I tried my damnedest for a miserable year. You know as well as I do, I have no wealth or jewels to offer her, nor do I deserve her, in truth. But, I cannot fathom facing the rest of my life without her beautiful smile, bold spirit, or kind heart. Mairi means everything to me. There is naught I would not do to make her happy. That is, if she will still have me.”

  “Saints, the pair of you belong together. You’re as blasted sappy as she is.” MacGregor barked out a laugh, drawing Aaron’s stunned gaze.

  ’Twas the first time the man had done something other than scowl in his presence.

  Rolling his eyes, MacGregor extended a large hand. “Come, get to your feet.”

  Aaron stared at the offering for an apprehensive moment before clapping his palm in the other man’s. With a forceful tug, MacGregor helped him to rise on his shaky legs.

  In such close proximity, Mairi’s brother speared him with a warning look. “There’s much I can forgive, but if you ever hurt my sister again, I shall not hesitate to end you. Understood?”

  Aaron met his gaze with equal measure. “Understood.”

  “As for wealth, you should know my sister cares not if your coffers are filled with coin or cobwebs. ’Tis fortunate for you, I would say. ’Tis fortunate, too, that my sister has a substantial bride price to bring to the union of her choosing.”

  Aaron blinked at the information. Not that it made a difference to him either way. “Even so, ’tis Mairi’s. I’ve no interest in her dowry. Mairi’s prize enough for me.”

  “I wholeheartedly agree. However, the dowry is hers to do with as she pleases. Now—” MacGregor peered over Aaron’s shoulder. “Tell your man to join us in the hall for a drink.”

  Aaron glanced behind him to find Niall sitting as straight as a lance in his saddle, worriedly observing the exchange. With a tip of a head and a wave of his arm, he urged his friend forward.

  He swung his gaze back to MacGregor. “Where’s Mairi?”

  “You’re exhausted. You should rest a moment before you seek her out,” MacGregor suggested.

  “Nay, I’ve wasted enough time,” he insisted. “Please, where can I find her?”

  A broad grin eased a degree of harshness from the laird’s features. “She’s in the garden outside the kitchens. I’ll show you.” The man cuffed Aaron’s shoulder. “Come, allow me to lead the way.”

  Oh, he knew precisely where Mairi’s garden was located. Though, he kept that bit of information to himself for the time being. Before MacGregor steered him inside, he halted in his tracks. “There’s something I must fetch from my bag.”

  Whirling around, he hastened the short distance to Niall who approached with Aaron’s gelding in tow. Heading for his saddlebag, he rummaged through the contents until finding what he sought. Grabbing his mantle from the saddle, he swung the cloak around his shoulders and tucked the small item in the inner pocket.

  Niall quirked a brow. “So, they have no plans to kill us after all?”

  Aaron grinned. “It would seem not. I’ll meet you inside the hall shortly. I must find Mairi.”

  *

  Mairi swiped her wrist over her brow, brushing away the stray hairs tickling her face. Stabbing the spade in the turned earth in front of her, she pressed a fist into the strained muscles in her lower back. Despite the cooler temperature, the biting weather had eased enough for her to spend the past two days hunched over her mother’s garden, pruning the overgrowth and dead foliage away.

  ’Twas a mindless task she welcomed as of late. Anything that might quiet her incessant thoughts. Of course, the feat was nearly impossible, despite her best efforts. No matter how much time she spent with her kin and their bairns, or toiling in the garden, her mind always returned to Aaron. Even now, she thought of him.

  Though her heart ached, she harbored no malice toward him. Regardless of how matters ended for them, she hoped with her whole heart that he’d not slipped into the same patterns as before. His clan needed him every bit as much as he needed them.

  With a frown, she rubbed a sprig of the rosemary in front of her between her fingers. In truth, she needed him, too. Part of her wondered if Connor had delivered her missive. The notion might’ve proven fruitless, but she could not bear to leave without explaining her actions.

  “Do you suppose you might ever plant a garden for me?”

  Her heart almost leaped from her chest at the familiar, roughened voice. In the next breath, she spun on her knees to find Aaron standing a few yards away, watching her with the same sharp, assessing gaze as usual. For long moments, she sat in stunned silence, soaking up the sight of him.

  Lines of exhaustion hung from his features while his thick, sable hair lay tussled and askew. His brows tugged low to match the circles beneath his dark eyes.

  Once she found her tongue, the breath hissed out of her. “You’re here.”

  The statement bordered close to a question, but she could not contain her astonishment.

  Nodding, he stepped closer and offered her his hand. “Aye, Mairi. I am here.”

  At present, she would not deny his aid. Between her weak knees and drumming heart, she needed a hand to rise to her feet. She hardly wished to blink for fear he might turn into naught but a hopeful illusion.

  As soon as she placed her hand in his, a breathless sigh left her lips. His warm fingers twined through hers, proving he was every bit as real as she hoped.

  Aaron swept her in his arms, pressing her firmly against his frame. He brushed an errant curl behind her ear and traced his finger over her flushed cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

  Damned if the soft-spoken words did not bring tears to her eyes. Swallowing the emotion lodged in her throat, she whispered, “I’ve missed you, too.”

  “Please, sit with me for a moment.”

  With an
arm around her middle, he guided her to the bench along the wall where they’d once sat together after their first meeting in the garden. It seemed so long ago, as if the two of them had been acquainted for a lifetime.

  Seated beside him, she shifted to face him with a frown. “How? What of my brother?”

  He grasped her hands in his lap and a grin lifted his cheeks. “Do not fret. Your brother and I have called a truce.”

  She stared at him in disbelief. Her brother, Calum MacGregor, had agreed to a truce with Aaron?

  A laugh tumbled out of him as he tucked her closer to his side. “Do not look at me like that. ’Tis truth. How do you suppose I knew where to find you?”

  “I just…’tis shocking.”

  “Aye, well. ’Twas shocking to me, too. Though, I’m not complaining.” He peered at their joined hands as his thumbs brushed circles over her skin. “It would seem that I am in the habit of asking your forgiveness. I made the worst decision of my life by sending you away, Mairi. I should’ve given you the respect you deserved and allowed you to explain the situation with MacEwan before losing my head over the matter. ’Twas unforgiveable and I shall have to live with the folly of my decision.”

  So, he had read her letter. “Did you think I planned to wed MacEwan, in truth?”

  “Nay. Aye. Mayhap.” Shaking his head, he shrugged. “I know not. I merely knew I could not compete with the man’s wealth or golden looks. I suppose I was jealous, fearful that you’d found another who could give you a life that I could not. I never once considered the burden weighing on you, or the position I’d left you in for the past year.” He hesitated a moment. “In truth, I worried of my place within the clan. For a spell, I was adamant that Connor should lead the MacRaes, but the lad has expressed no interest in doing so.”

  “Why should he? You are the eldest and ’tis your birthright. Connor looks up to you. As does your clan. Every one of them looks to you for guidance. Despite your reservations, you are not your father, Aaron. You are a decent man who loves his clan. And, they love you.”

  “Aye, I know they do.” He nodded. “But, I fear I shall always struggle to feel worthy of my position. Just as I shall always struggle to feel worthy of you. ’Twas not a falsehood when you and I spoke before. You’ve lived among my clan. We are not a wealthy clan, Mairi. ’Twas no lie when I said I had naught of consequence to offer you.”