The goddess, who rode him like a stallion, charging through the sky…
Suddenly, there was the sound of hammering horses’ hooves. His heart gripped tightly. They had arrived. They had finally arrived. At long last, he could deal with Howard once and for all.
Domhnall sat down at the table in the grand hall, tight-lipped. He simply couldn’t believe it. With difficulty, he let the men who had just arrived settle themselves, staring hard at the Laird of Lios, who was talking to one of the servants about what refreshments his men required.
He studied the man. He knew that Baltair Crannach was sixty years old, but he carried himself so well that he could be convinced he was at least a decade younger. The man was tall, almost towering, and commanding with it. He had a lean frame, with greying dark hair and a long face. His eyes were hazel, an almost perfect mixture of green and brown, reminding him of a muddied pond.
The drinks arrived, and the men drank thirstily, slamming the mugs of ale back on the table.
Crannach wiped his mouth with his sleeve, staring at Domhnall.
“The ale is good,” he said. “Thank ye for the refreshment, Laird. We have been riding hard through the night, and needed it, ye ken.”
Domhnall nodded. “Take yer time, Laird. I ken how hard a ride it is from Lios to Greum Dubh, if ye daenae stop.” He paused. “The journey went well?”
Crannach nodded. “We had no incident, nor did we see any of the English camps…”
Domhnall nodded again. “We have had word that they have moved, almost to the border. Further away from the destruction they wrought at Keelieock.” His mouth tightened. “Howard and his scum English renegades must be made to pay for what they did to my people.”
Crannach nodded, picking up his mug again and drinking deeply. He placed the mug back down, gazing at Domhnall.
“Agreed,” he said shortly. “Their path is obvious. Once they have wreaked havoc on all of Greum Dubh, they will target Lios. It will happen, as surely as day follows night.”
Domhnall leaned over the table towards the man. “That it will, Laird. It is in both our interests to stop the man before any more destruction occurs.” He paused. “I daenae understand, then, why ye have brought so few men with ye. I had good word that when ye arrived, it would be with enough men so that we can quickly work out our strategy and deal with the blaggard once and for all.”
Crannach sighed deeply. “More of my men will follow, Laird, as soon as I give the word.” He paused. “But I had to come first, to talk to ye, to make sure we are of like minds before that happens.”
Domhnall stared hard at the man and fighting down his anger. The pact had been agreed upon and activated. The betrothal had been formally announced. What more did they have to talk about, before they could finally ride to the English camp and deal with them?
Frustration nipped at his heels like a terrier dog. He had already waited days for the Laird of Lios to come to Coirecrag. Useless days, when they could have already attacked Howard’s camp. And now, he was being told that they must wait longer again.
“Laird,” he said through gritted teeth. “The pact is watertight. The betrothal between yer daughter and myself announced. Why is there more delay?”
Crannach gazed at him steadily. “The delay, Laird, is that I need to talk with ye, face to face, to make sure we both understand.” He paused. “I need yer assurance, in writing, that if I supply men to help ye deal with Howard, that ye shall supply men to me, if he suddenly switches tactics, and starts attacking Lios villages.”
Domhnall cursed under his breath. “Of course, I shall help ye, if it comes to that! Ye did not need to speak with me face to face to ken it.” He swallowed down his frustration with difficulty. “Howard’s movements are obvious, for now, anyway. He wants to attack more villages on my lands. He is camped in the opposite direction to Lios.”
Crannach sighed. “It seems that way, to be sure. But he is a canny soldier, and he may do somethin’ to surprise us. I never underestimate my enemy, and neither should ye.” He paused. “It is a simple enough matter, Laird. Once I have yer agreement in writing, I shall send word for the men I have promised ye to come, and we can attack.”
Domhnall nodded. He turned to the servant, standing against the wall, jug of ale in hand, ready to top up the mugs of the thirsty travelers.
“Go and fetch parchment and ink,” he growled. “And bring it here. Do not tarry, Hamish.”
The servant nodded, scurrying out of the room.
Domhnall turned to Crannach. “We shall do it now. And I expect in return that ye shall write a letter to Balness castle to send for yer men. I will send word for a messenger to saddle a horse immediately.”
Crannach nodded. “Laird, it shall be done.”
Domhnall strode out of the hall, clenching and unclenching his fists. The day hadn’t progressed the way that he had been anticipating at all, and the bitter disappointment of it was curdling like sour milk in the pit of his stomach.
He sighed deeply. At least the messenger had been sent to Balness, instructing the full envoy of the Lios men to journey to Coirecrag. They had written and signed the agreement that he would supply men to Lios if needed. The rest of the morning had been taken up with talk of tactics, but it was obvious that the Lios travelers were all fading fast and needed rest after their long journey. They had agreed to disband for the moment and meet up later in the afternoon.
He sighed again, running a hand through his hair. He glanced up at the castle towards Cormac’s chambers. Roseann would be hard at work with the lad. Suddenly, he needed to see her face desperately. Perhaps he could also find the time to pull her aside and have their long-overdue talk.
He strode up the staircase to his brother’s chambers. The door was closed. He knocked once but didn’t wait for a response, before striding into the room.
Cormac was sitting on the floor, playing with his set of toy soldiers. Mairead was sitting in the chair next to the fire, knitting. Both glanced up, staring at him.
He gazed around the room. Where was she?
“Laird,” said Mairead, standing up, placing her knitting into the basket beside her.
Domhnall nodded. “Mairead,” he said shortly. “I was wantin’ to talk with Roseann. Is she on a break?”
Mairead’s eyes widened. “Laird,” she said in a faint voice. “Ye daenae ken, then?”
He stilled. “Ken what?”
Mairead paled. She stepped forward until she was standing right in front of him, staring up at him. Her eyes were full of sorrow.
“She’s gone, Laird,” she said slowly. “She was nae in her bed this mornin’ when Grizel went to dress her. And she has nae been seen anywhere in the castle all mornin’.” She took a deep breath. “We waited for her to come to her duties, but she never sent word. She’s vanished, Laird.”
26
Roseann twisted in the man’s arms, gazing up at him fearfully. She had been stupid. She should have known that she couldn’t just march into a Scottish village, on Greum Dubh lands, without being detained. Not with an English accent. And especially not after what had happened at Keelieock.
“Please,” she said, in a small voice, her mouth dry. “Please, you do not understand! I am not your enemy.” She took a deep breath. “I have been staying at Coirecrag castle. I am tutor to Cormac MacBeathag, the Laird’s younger brother. I am not your enemy!”
The man snarled into her face, exposing blackened teeth. “Ye can say anythin’ that ye want, cannae ye? Ye can claim to be the Queen of Scotland! I daenae ken who ye are, lass. And with a voice like yers, I am nae takin’ any chances!”
“Let her go.” A man’s voice, just behind them.
Roseann jumped. The man that held her jumped, too, twisting his head around. Roseann turned, staring at the man who had just walked through the door.
She gazed at him, puzzled. He looked familiar, somehow, but she couldn’t quite place his face.
The man who had just walked into the inn steppe
d forward.
“I said, let her go,” he repeated slowly. “She is tellin’ the truth, man. I can vouch for her. She is tutor to Cormac MacBeathag, and the Laird would not be happy to hear that she is being mishandled.”
The man that held her loosened his grip. Roseann fell towards the floor, only just arresting herself before she hit the ground. She gazed at her unlikely savior gratefully.
“Do I know you?” she asked in a trembling voice. “How is it that you know who I am?”
The man smiled slightly. He was young, probably only around eighteen, and lanky. His hair was a fiery red, and he had a small smattering of hair of the same color across his chin.
“My name is Angdaigh MacGille, lady,” he replied, bowing slightly. “I work in the stables at Coirecrag, ye ken. I have seen ye many times, and ken who ye are, even if ye daenae recognize me.”
Roseann gazed at him. Now she knew why his face seemed familiar. He did work in the stables at Coirecrag, but she had never spoken with him, and probably only seen him two or three times.
Her eyes filled with sudden tears. “Thank you. Thank you for vouching for me.”
He stared at her curiously. “Why are ye here, lady? I dinnae ken ye were in this district…”
Suddenly, she stumbled forward. A wave of dizziness overcame her. Angdaigh rushed forward, supporting her. He turned to the innkeeper, who was gazing at them both with a stupefied expression on his face.
“She needs rest,” he said sharply. “Lead us to yer best table and get us some food and ale. It is the least ye can do, after the way that ye have treated her.”
Roseann drank thirstily from her mug of ale, not even stopping until she had reached the bottom, and it was empty.
Angdaigh laughed. “Ye should be careful, lady. Ye shall be on yer ear if ye do not slow down a little.”
She smiled at him faintly. These bannocks were not as good as the ones at Coirecrag, but she still devoured all the oat cakes the innkeeper had set before her. And he had filled up her ale mug once already.
Her head was swimming with weariness, but she was satiated, at long last. She stared at Angdaigh curiously.
“Why are you in this village?” she asked. “It is a long way from Coirecrag.”
He grinned, blushing slightly. “There is a lassie, ye ken. She lives in Crisdean.” His blush deepened, and he ducked his head shyly. “I come here, from time to time, to visit her. I am trying to persuade her to move to Coirecrag, so we can be closer…”
Roseann smiled. “Oh, you have a sweetheart, then! That is lovely.” Her smile widened. “What is her name?”
“Her name is Moibeal,” he said shyly. “She is the daughter of the arrow maker here.” He paused. “She is bonnie, but she is a hard worker, too. I think she would be able to get work in the kitchens at Coirecrag.”
Roseann nodded. “I hope for both your sakes that Moibeal will go to Coirecrag.” Her face softened. “It is not right for young love to be separated. You must fight for her, Angdaigh.”
He nodded. “I will, lady.” He hesitated, staring at her. “Ye still have nae told me why ye are here. And why ye are travelin’ all alone.”
Roseann sighed deeply, looking away, blinking back tears. What could she tell him? Eventually, she turned back, gazing at him steadily.
“I could not stay at Coirecrag,” she said slowly. “I had to return to my own home, just over the border near Berwick in England. My parents need me urgently. So, I set off by myself to get to them…”
Angdaigh frowned slightly. “But ye have come the wrong way, lady. Crisdean is not near Berwick. Ye are miles off course.” He took a deep breath. “And it is dangerous, a lady travelin’ by herself….”
She took a deep breath. “I know, Angdaigh, but I had no choice. It was urgent, as I said, and I simply did not have time to inform the Laird or anyone else at Coirecrag.” She paused. “Do you know how I can get back onto the path that I must take towards Berwick?”
He nodded cautiously. “Aye, I do.” He hesitated. “But it is more dangerous than usual around these parts, lady. Howard’s men have been sighted in the area. Their camp is not far from here. It is the reason the innkeeper was so suspicious of ye, even more than normal. The whole village is on alert, as skittish as hunted deer, ye ken.”
Roseann’s heart sank. She had veered so far off course. And the thought of encountering Howard and his men filled her with trepidation.
She had encountered English renegades before. She knew that they could not be negotiated or bargained with. The very thought of dealing with them made her tremble with fear. But unless she wanted to stay at Crisdean until after they had moved on, she had little choice.
“The Laird will deal with them,” she said in a small voice. “He is committed to it. What happened at Keelieock will not happen here, nor anywhere else on Greum Dubh lands…”
Angdaigh sighed deeply. “I ken what the Laird intends, lady. I live at Coirecrag, remember? But it is hard for these villagers to believe it, with the English so close, and the horror of Keelieock so fresh.” He hesitated. “There are some who say the Laird has lost his nerve. That he is a coward. They question why he has nae dealt with them already, and they feel that he is not protecting them.”
Roseann felt a quick upsurge of guilt. If it hadn’t been for her, the betrothal would have been announced straight away, and the Laird of Lios would have come with the men Domhnall needed to deal with Howard.
She bit her lip. The delay announcing the betrothal had put everyone in Greum Dubh at risk. Every village was under threat. And it was all her fault. Her desire to become his wife had blinded her to everything else around her.
She blinked back tears. At least she had done the right thing now. Lady Sineag had forced their hands and made her leave Coirecrag unwillingly, but it was for the best. The Laird of Lios would be coming now, with the men he had promised. And she had left the castle. She was no longer a distraction to Domhnall.
“Lady?” Angdaigh’s voice was threaded with worry. “Are ye feeling well?”
Roseann took a deep breath. “I think that I must rest, Angdaigh. At least for a few hours.” She hesitated, staring out the window of the inn at the village beyond. “After that, I will keep on with my journey. I must.”
Roseann opened her eyes slowly. For a moment, she was completely disoriented. She felt the hardness of an unfamiliar bed beneath her. Then it all came tumbling back into her mind.
Leaving Coirecrag in the dead of night. Her long journey through Greum Dubh, where she had lost her way. Coming into this village and being threatened by the innkeeper. And Angdaigh, the stable boy, her unexpected savior…
She jumped out of bed, quickly dressing. She felt like she needed to sleep for several more hours, but there was simply no time. She could rest properly once she was safely back at Loughton Hall. It was imperative that she start her journey again.
She wandered the village square, watching the villagers at work. She averted her eyes from the butcher, who was cutting up joints of meat, his blade flying through the air, sending blood in every direction. A shoemaker sat on a stool outside his stall, carefully stitching a pair of shoes.
The villagers glanced at her curiously as she passed by but did not say a word to her. No doubt, news of her arrival had already spread through Crisdean. She couldn’t blame them for their suspicion, even though they must know that she had recently been at Coirecrag. She was English, after all, and the people of Greum Dubh had not had good experiences with her native people recently.
Suddenly, she saw a familiar lanky figure, just outside the arrow maker’s shop. She smiled. It was Angdaigh, talking with a petite golden-haired girl with an ample bosom. They were laughing softly together, and Angdaigh reached out slowly, taking one of her golden tresses in his hand and caressing it.
Roseann’s eyes filled with sudden tears. The girl must be Moibeal, the girl he was courting. It was so lovely, watching them together. And she couldn’t help but think of her own los
t love…
“Lady!” Angdaigh was waving to her.
She jumped slightly, shaking herself out of her reverie. She plastered a wide smile onto her face, approaching them.
The girl stared at her, openly curious.
“Moibeal,” said Angdaigh, taking the girl’s hand, “this is Miss Roseann Gibson. She is tutor to the Laird’s younger brother, Cormac.”
Roseann smiled. “It is lovely to meet you, Moibeal. How pretty you are.” She turned to Angdaigh. “You are a lucky man.”
The girl blushed. “Ye are kind to say so, lady. I have heard about ye. Yer beauty and kindness are well known at Coirecrag.”
Roseann’s heart expanded slightly, and she blinked back tears again. Even the mention of the castle reminded her of all that she had lost.
A Pledge of Passion to the Highlander Page 18