The Renegade (Rebel Hearts, #1)

by Baldwin, Lily

  She took his hand and looked him square in the eye. “But if yer father had not wrongly blamed ye, a wee bairn, for yer mother’s death, then ye never would have met the blackguard, Brogan, in the first place.”

  “There is truth in yer words, but ‘tis a truth my father would doubtless never hear. Where I am concerned, he is a hard man, hard and unforgiving.”

  He laid back down and opened his arms. She slid into his embrace, resting her cheek on his chest. “’Tis no wonder that I dreamt of her last night after these two days spent in quiet reflection.”

  She sat up a little, resting her chin in her hand. “Holy week is about forgiveness.” A determined glint filled her eyes. “I love ye. Regardless of what yer past holds, ye’re a good man.” She smiled gently. “Ye can make a fresh start, Nathan. That is what Easter is all about, new beginnings.”

  He looked in her clear blue eyes, and in that moment, he believed the promise in her words. Pulling her close, he whispered. “With ye in my life, I feel like anything is possible.”

  Nathan closed his eyes and held his bride, and prayed to find peace with the past. In his heart, he would always be of Clan Campbell. But he was also a Brodie now, and tomorrow he would celebrate Easter Sunday with his kin.

  NATHAN AWOKE THE NEXT morning with a new lightness in his heart as he gathered with his clan in the courtyard and sang hymns of praise. Then, he and Elora ushered the villagers into the chapel where Father Paul led them through a joyous Mass, filled with music. There was a liveliness in everyone’s step. The spirit of celebration was infectious, and before too long, the real merrymaking began. The great hall was teeming with villagers as everyone gathered to prepare for the Easter feast.

  As always, Elora ensured everything ran smoothly, but there was an ease in her manner that made Nathan’s heart swell. Her quick laughter and bright eyes made it easy to forget the painful memories of the night before; that was, until Declan came charging into the great hall.

  “Warriors, two dozen strong, ride this way!”

  Elora’s eyes flashed wide as she sought Nathan’s gaze. “It must be Egan!”

  “Nay,” Declan said, crossing to their side. “They do not carry the colors of the Mackintosh,” he said to Elora. Then he shifted his gaze to Nathan. “They wear the blue and green tartan of yer kin.”

  Nathan’s nostrils flared. “Ye must be mistaken. How could they know I’m here?” Then his fists clenched. “Egan! He asked me from where I hailed. He must have alerted my father to my presence.”

  Elora’s eyes flashed wide. “But why does he come?”

  He shook his head. “I do not ken, but whatever his reason, he does not come in peace.” He turned to Declan. “Sound the alarm. See that every villager is within the castle grounds.” Then, Nathan whirled around, heading toward the doors that led out to the courtyard.

  “Where are ye’re going?” Elora called after him.

  “I’m going to ride out to meet them.”

  She straightened her back and jutted out her chin. “I’m coming with ye.”

  He shook his head. “Nay, ‘tis too dangerous.”

  She lifted her chin higher. “I wasn’t asking yer permission.”

  He wanted to deny her, but he knew better than to demand her obedience. “All right. But ye must keep back, and give me yer word that ye will turn back to the keep at the first sign of trouble.”

  She met his gaze and nodded. “Ye have my word.”

  As Nathan and Elora descended the castle steps to the courtyard, Caleb sat astride his mount. Beside him, two horses, saddled and ready, stomped at the ground.

  Nathan’s lips upturned slightly as he raised a brow at his friend. “Where do ye think ye’re going?”

  Caleb shrugged. “We’re still partners, aren’t we?”

  Nathan smiled. “Aye, we are.” Then he turned to Elora and lifted her onto Rosie. He looked her hard in the eye. “Remember yer promise.”

  “I will,” she vowed, but then she cleared her throat and looked pointedly over his shoulder.

  Nathan turned just as Declan and band of warriors rode out of the stables. He threw his hands up. “I told ye already, Declan. I’m riding out to meet them alone.”

  Declan nodded. “Of course ye are, my laird, and we’re going with ye.”

  Nathan locked eyes with the older man. Then his gaze shifted, taking in the Brodie warriors, Caleb, and his beautiful bride. Looking beyond them, he saw the villagers filling the courtyard, and in quick succession, they all dropped to one knee.

  His chest tightened at the display of kinship. “Thank ye, my friends.”

  With a full heart, he mounted his horse and drew alongside Elora. “Together,” he said.

  She straightened in her saddle. “Together,” she echoed. Then they nudged their horses forward and charged out the front gate. Racing through the empty village and fields, they crested the hill where they reined in their horses.

  Declan drew his horse close to Nathan. “The rest of yer warriors are readying for battle, though I pray to God it does not come to that.”

  Nathan nodded grimly. Then he reached out and took Elora’s hand. He met her clear blue gaze. Her eyes shone with strength. Taking a deep breath, he turned his gaze straight on. He had often wondered whether he would ever see Argyle Campbell again. And as the mighty din of horses thundering toward them reached his ears, he realized that he would soon be face to face with the very man who had banished him from his clan seven years ago.

  Before too long, the Campbell warriors rode into view. He spied his father straightaway. A seasoned warrior, Argyle had thick black curls streaked with silver and broad shoulders.

  “My father rides in lead,” Nathan said out loud.

  Nathan’s gaze darted between the warriors flanking his father. To Argyle’s right was his eldest brother, Matthew, whose black hair was pulled away from his face, revealing his thick sinewy neck and bare muscular shoulders, and to his father’s left, was the middle brother, Peter, who was the tallest of them all and leanly built. Then, Nathan scanned the faces of the other warriors—he knew them all. Once upon a time, he had counted each one as his brother.

  The Campbell warriors drew to a halt some feet away. Nathan locked eyes with his father’s hard gaze. His heart raced as he released Elora’s hand and took up his reins. For a moment, he felt uncertain, as if the child inside him and the man he was were at odds. But then he took a deep breath, narrowed his eyes on his father and nudged his horse forward, moving to the middle ground. He dismounted and withdrew his sword from the sheath strapped to his back and drove the tip of the blade into the ground. Then he stepped back and waited, his gaze never wavering from his father’s silver eyes.

  His weathered face impassive, the Campbell chieftain clicked his tongue and his horse stomped forward. Then he, too, dismounted. Nathan’s nostrils flared as his father stepped toward him. Mirroring Nathan’s movements, Argyle withdrew his own sword, but he let it fall to the ground as he charged at Nathan. Nathan tensed his stance, readying for his father’s assault. Nearly upon him, his father raised both his arms. Then his silver eyes flooded with tears the instant before he pulled Nathan into a fierce embrace.

  “My lad,” his father rasped in his ear.

  Bewildered, Nathan froze. He met Matthew’s gaze over his father’s shoulders, and his brother’s silver eyes crinkled as a smile broke across his face.

  In that moment, Nathan’s heart swelled and he wrapped his arms around his father and squeezed him with all his might. “Da,” he blurted.

  “My lad,” Argyle exclaimed in a booming voice and lifted Nathan’s feet clear off the ground. “My lad!”

  When Nathan’s feet touched back down, his father gripped Nathan’s shoulders. “We’ve looked everywhere for ye, my boy.”

  Nathan’s mind raced. His heart pounded. “I...I don’t understand.”

  A smile broke across Argyle’s face and he stepped back. “Let me show ye something.” Then he raised his hand. At his sig
nal, Matthew and Peter nudged their horses, creating an opening so that Nathan could see the warriors on horseback behind them. And then, like drawing curtains to let in the light, the warriors diverged in opposite directions, making way for a cloaked rider with the hood pulled low over their eyes. Nathan stiffened as the rider reached up and slid their hood back, revealing the face of a striking woman with black curls and familiar blue eyes.

  Nathan stumbled back with a gasp. Tears stung his eyes. He dropped to his knees and covered his face with his hands. “I must be dreaming.” His voice broke.

  Then, the sweetest sound he had ever heard reached his ears. “I am no dream, brother.”

  He dropped his hands away from his face. She stood in front of him. “Cait,” he cried and leapt to his feet, sweeping her into his arms. “Ye’re alive!” He spun her around and around. Her laughter rang out. Then he set her down and cupped her cheeks. “How can this be?”

  Warmth flooded Cait’s blue eyes. “I did not drown. I was washed ashore on the Isle of Colonsay and saved by a family of fishermen.”

  Nathan crushed her close again. “Praise be to all the angels.” He drew away slightly and grazed the back of his fingers down her cheek. “Ye’re a woman grown.”

  Cait nodded. “I am one and twenty, but I am still yer wee lass,” she smiled. “I always will be.”

  “My children,” his father boomed, moving to stand beside them. His silver gaze locked with Nathan’s. “I have regretted lashing out at ye long before we knew Cait was alive. There is so much I regret.” His father’s brows drew together. “But if ye can forgive me, I would like nothing more than to have all my children together again.”

  Nathan did not hesitate. He pulled his father close. “I love ye, Da.” Then he drew away and seized Cait’s hand. “There is someone I want ye to meet,” he said as he led her to Elora’s side.

  Tears streaked his bride’s cheeks. She slid to the ground, her blue eyes shining with joy.

  Nathan turned to his sister. “Cait, meet my wife, Elora.” His own voice broke as emotion surged up his throat. “Elora, meet my wee sister, back from the grave.”

  Fresh tears flooded Elora’s gaze as she pulled Cait close. “Welcome, sister.”

  Nathan’s breath hitched and he pulled them both into his arms. A moment later, his da came forward and wrapped his arms around them. Before too long, Matthew and Peter joined in, and then a cheer rose up among the surrounding warriors, both Brodie and Campbell.

  “My laird,” Declan called at length, drawing Nathan’s gaze. “May I ride ahead and tell Murray and our warriors to stand down?”

  “Aye,” he answered. “And let Agnes know that we’ve more mouths to feed.”

  Everyone cheered again, and Elora cupped his cheek. Her gaze shone with love. “This will be an Easter feast the likes of which Castle Bròn has never seen!”

  Chapter Twenty One

  Elora awoke to the feather soft caress of Nathan’s lips making a trail of kisses down her throat to the hollow of her neck. “Good morrow,” she rasped as she stretched her arms over her head. Blinking away the sleep from her eyes, she sought his gaze.

  “Good morrow,” he said, his voice husky. His hand curved over her bare breast. She closed her eyes and moaned softly as his thumb grazed her hard nipple.

  “We mustn’t,” she said, gently pushing away his hand. “’Tis the morrow after Easter, and we have a castle filled with family—”

  “And dozens of servants to see to their needs,” he reminded her.

  She gasped as his hand trailed over her hip. “They will be expecting us.”

  A seductive smile curved his lips. “We can be late.” His fingers grazed her stomach, then parted her legs.

  She gasped and threw her head back. “I’m never late.”

  “Never is a long time,” he crooned and blew a stream hot air against her inner thigh. She dug her fingers into his hair. Then his mouth found the heat of her, and all thoughts of duty fled her mind as his kiss made her body quiver and ache until she cried out and shattered in his arms. Her chest heaving, he positioned himself between her thighs and entered her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held on tight as he thrust deep inside her, again and again. Bound together by a love that would stand the test of time, they moved in passionate harmony until they both cried out, clinging to each other as waves of ecstasy rolled through them.

  WHEN, AT LAST, THEY made their way down to the great hall, long after Prime, and took their rightful seats, Elora’s cheeks burned as her kinfolk greeted them with knowing smiles.

  “Good morrow, Daughter,” Argyle said, as he stood and crossed to where she sat and pressed a fatherly kiss to her cheek. Then he placed his hand on Nathan’s shoulders. “Good morrow, Son.” Tears flooded the older man’s gaze. “It does my heart good to say that.”

  Murray stood and cleared his throat. “I hate to be the bearer of ill tidings, but today is the morning after Easter.”

  Elora gave her steward a questioning look.

  “The Lenten season is over,” he said.

  For a moment, she was puzzled, but then she drew a sharp breath and looked at Nathan. “Egan comes this day!”

  “Ahh,” Argyle chimed in. “Are ye speaking of Egan Mackintosh?”

  She shifted her gaze to the senior Campbell. “The same.”

  The older man rubbed his chin. “I’ve been curious about Laird Mackintosh ever since we received his missive.”

  Elora turned to Nathan. “Ye were right. It was Egan who alerted yer father to yer whereabouts.”

  “What did his message contain?” Nathan asked, looking past her to meet his father’s gaze.

  “Some nonsense about ye claiming his rightful bride.” Argyle lifted his shoulders. “I didn’t pay much heed to the letter. As soon as I read that ye were at Castle Bròn, the rest was forgotten as I readied my men for our journey here.”

  “I’m confident there was little else of value in his message,” Nathan said to his father before he turned to face Elora. He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Do not fash yerself over his coming.” He smiled at her. “Ye’re my wife. Egan will just have to accept this.”

  Elora expelled the tension from her shoulders. Suddenly, she felt brighter. The weight of Egan’s claim had been lifted from her shoulders. More than that, her people were safe, and the sovereignty of her clan was secured. She squared her shoulders, and lifted her chin high. “Ye’re right, Nathan.” Then she turned back to her steward. “Let him come. He has no power here.”

  The morning meal commenced without further discussion of Egan. Elora watched as Tempest and Cait sat together, talking and laughing like old friends. She leaned close to Nathan. “Our sisters could be twins,” she observed.

  “Trust me. I’ve noticed,” he said dryly before pressing a lingering kiss to her cheek.

  Her gaze shifted back to the bustling hall. She waved to Allison as she waddled by. And then she smiled as she spotted Delcan sitting with Hamish, playing a game of dice. Judging by the smile that stretched Hamish’s creased face wide, the old man was winning. She continued to scan the happy faces when she suddenly realized that someone was missing.

  She turned to Nathan. “Where is Caleb?”

  “Alone, no doubt. He’s been even more withdrawn lately.”

  Just as Elora was about to question Nathan further, the doors to the great hall swung open, and Caleb stormed into the room. His gaze locked with Nathan’s. No words passed between the men who stood a room apart, but Nathan nodded at his friend before he leaned close to Elora and said, “Egan has arrived.”

  Caleb moved off to the side, and moments later Egan and half a dozen Mackintosh warriors thundered into the great hall. His head bent low, and his gaze fixed on Elora, Egan marched across the room.

  “I’m here to witness yer nuptials,” he sneered.

  She fought to contain her triumphant smile. Slowly she stood, her composure intact. “Ye’re late,” she said simply.

  With a
snarl of rage, he shook his fist at her. “Ye have dishonored yer father’s memory.”

  Tempest stood, her blue eyes flashing. “In life, my father dishonored every man, woman, and child in this room.” Then she faltered and a smile curved her lips. “Well, all except for my brother’s family. They had the great fortune of never knowing Cormag Brodie.”

  Nathan stood then. “In fact, I have to thank ye, Egan, for ye are the reason I have been reunited with my kin.” Then he nodded at his brothers.

  A thrill of victory shot up Elora’s spine as she watched Nathan’s older brothers, both imposing men, rise to their feet. Then they crossed to stand in between Egan and the high table. An instant later, Brodie and Campbell warriors alike stood and flanked Matthew and Peter.

  “I also must thank ye,” Tempest said as she, too, moved to stand alongside the men.

  Elora tensed when her sister spoke up, but her worry eased when she observed Caleb drawing close until he stood just behind her.

  “What have ye to thank me for?” Egan snarled at Tempest.

  “For my new horse, of course,” she answered sweetly, causing many of the villagers to chuckle.

  Egan’s face reddened as his gaze narrowed on Tempest. He started to walk toward her. “Clan Brodie has two ladies. Since yer sister has denied my rightful claim, ‘tis only just that ye should take her place.”

  Tempest gasped, her eyes flashing wide.

  “Ye go too far,” Caleb snarled as he stepped in front of her, shielding her from Egan’s sight. At the same time, the room erupted with protests in Tempest’s defense.

  “Egan Mackintosh,” Elora said, her voice calling out above the sudden din of her angry kinfolk.

  Egan whirled around and met her gaze, his face twisted in anger. “’Tis nothing more than my due,” he shouted.