The Highlander’s Demand

by Wine, Mary

  And she was still fully dressed.

  She rolled over and stood. Her knees felt weak for a moment as everything seemed to swim in a dizzy circle.

  Her memory flooded back in a rush. She looked around as fear clawed at her, but there was no one nearby. But there was a note lying on the floor of the stable. She plucked it off the ground before catching sight of the maid.

  Innis was lying closer to the stable doors. Her chest rose and fell though, calming Cora. The note in her hand drew her attention.

  “If ye want yer sister back, come alone. Hamish.”

  Her fingers trembled but only for a moment before her temper flared.

  She was not a weakling!

  Nor was she some child.

  Rhedyn’s words rose from her mind, filling her with guilt as she realized Hamish had intended to use her to lure her brother out of the stronghold.

  Hamish had targeted her because he thought her a child.

  Cora straightened up. Something felt like it snapped inside her. All of a sudden, the tears which had been filling her eyes evaporated as her mind began to whirl with ideas of how to turn the situation in her favor. She looked around. A long dagger was lying on a work table where someone had left it in a hurry to get to supper. She picked it up and hiked her skirt so she might tuck it into her garter.

  Another rapid search netted her a jerkin which had been hung on a peg near the door. Likely the thick garment had been discarded during the heat of the day. She shrugged into it and rolled the sleeves up to bare her hands. She grabbed a knitted bonnet and stuffed her hair into it.

  She moved toward a stall, reaching out to run a hand over the muzzle of the horse standing there.

  Weak? Rhedyn was correct; Cora needed to take charge of her life because a good life required effort to create it.

  Hamish was expecting Buchanan. Cora dropped the note next to Innis on her way out of the stable. Her brother would still be along soon, but Cora planned to get to Rhedyn first. Hamish had underestimated Rhedyn before.

  Tonight, Cora was going to prove to him that she was twice as much trouble as her sister-in-law.

  *

  “Another slice of pie?” Fenella asked.

  Muir was just stuffing the last bite of what he had into his mouth. The meat and vegetable pie was hot and savory. The Head-of-House was smiling as she used a large knife to cut into the pie waiting near the hearth.

  “Nae,” he forced out. “I really must check on the mistress now.”

  Fenella carried the new slice over to his plate anyway. The scent of warm meat and flaky crust filled his nose. His belly rumbled as though he’d had nothing in days.

  “Women…” Fenella continued as she turned and reached for a pitcher of ale. “Women, tend to take a bit longer when talking.”

  She poured the ale into his mug. It was more than his measure. A second helping that, by rights, she might deduct from his quarterly earnings. But she only smiled and winked at him.

  “Enjoy,” Fenella said. “Then ye can be about yer duty.”

  Muir settled back down onto the bench. It really would be a shame to waste such a treat. There were lads up on the walls, and everyone else was in the great hall. He lifted a bite of the meat pie to his lips with his confidence high. Women did tend to talk longer than men. Muir had never been one to voice his opinion when it wasn’t asked for, but young Cora had been allowed to run wild. Like everyone else in the clan, she had a duty to uphold. The mistress would be the perfect person to put an end to Cora’s willfulness.

  *

  She was incorrigible.

  Willful.

  Oh, yes, Cora knew well what was said about her. The maids often wondered if she’d turn into a woman who was unbridled. She’d walked away from Shona when she tried to insist Cora learn to keep the account books. Cora had stayed only long enough in the kitchens to learn to turn bread and do the basic cooking. She lacked the patience to stand by and boil a pudding.

  But she knew how to track.

  And the night didn’t frighten her.

  She knelt down and stuck her hands into a pile of horse droppings without hesitation. They were still warm, telling her she was close to the horse carrying Rhedyn. With the help of the moon, she found the footprints of the man leading the horse. Clouds were beginning to gather though, promising rain before sunrise.

  The tracks would be long gone by first light.

  *

  Rhedyn woke to a headache.

  Honestly, it was worse than any headache she’d ever had. She wanted to rub her eyes but discovered her wrists bound behind her. Her back was against a rock as she lay across the ground, the chill of night coming through it to send a shiver across her skin.

  In front of her there was a fire. It had burned down, red embers glowing when the wind blew across them. She froze as she watched the men around that fire. They’d chosen a spot among an outcropping of large rocks. In the darkness, the shadows of the large stone created perfect hiding places for them.

  She started to shiver, but clamped her mouth shut to prevent her teeth from chattering. The memory of Cora’s face flashed through her mind. Fear was attempting to strangle her, but she fought against it, straining to maintain her composure. Keeping her wits would mean the difference between surviving and certain death.

  Well, they didn’t kill you in the stables…

  What she’d meant as a bolstering thought had the opposite effect. There was only one reason she would still be alive—to be used against Buchanan.

  Hamish.

  She didn’t bother to waste time on questioning it. He would have killed her in the stable without a thought for her soul.

  The night grew darker as clouds covered the moon. Rhedyn could smell rain in the air. It might serve to cover her tracks, but it would also wake the men sleeping close by. She scanned those nearest to her.

  Something touched her leg.

  Rhedyn jerked but kept her mouth shut. She looked down, blinking when she thought she spied Cora.

  But even after she blinked, Cora’s face remained.

  The fear Rhedyn had been holding back broke through. Cora was so young, but she reached forward with something. Rhedyn felt her sawing at the rope which bound her ankles. It gave way, sending a shaft of hope through her.

  Cora pointed around the rock before she disappeared from sight. Rhedyn rolled over, fighting her impulse to do it quickly. She held her breath as she watched the sleeping men.

  It seemed to take forever before she felt the knife working at the rope around her wrists. But when it gave way, she discovered herself panting with disbelief. Cora reached down and took her hand, pulling on it. Rhedyn fought against her skirt as she crawled. Every inch felt like it took too long to cover. Each tiny sound grated on her ears like thunder.

  But she made it around the rock, flattening herself against the surface for several long seconds as she looked at the area in front of her. The mist turned to light rain, urging her forward. Cora clasped her hand, keeping pace with her as they scurried around rocks, hunching low to conceal themselves in the darkness. The wind whipped up, slapping branches and leaves against each other.

  “Hurry,” Cora urged her. “They won’t sleep through this storm.”

  With the wind whipping, they yanked up their skirts and ran. The grass was tall, and it scraped against their shins. Rhedyn grew hot in spite of the chill in the air. Her heart was pounding as everything inside her was focused on moving faster.

  Escape…

  But the land suddenly fell away. They stood two feet from the edge of a ravine, looking down at the churning water of a river. Rhedyn looked behind her, reaching for Cora’s hand when she saw the men closing the gap between them.

  “I will not be bait,” Cora declared.

  Rhedyn looked at her. “Nor will I.”

  They might have both been choosing death, but Rhedyn squeezed Cora’s hand before she ran the final two paces to the edge and jumped.

  Whether God would ha
ve mercy on her or not, it was a better choice, for she knew without a doubt that Hamish would have none.

  *

  Water appeared harmless.

  It was anything but soft. The moment Rhedyn plunged into it, the strength of the current took hold of her. It pulled her under. She fought against it, straining to get back to the surface. The battle was intense, but she broke through the water just long enough to gulp at the air. She was yanked back down again, but the tiny success gave her hope, and hope was the fuel for determination.

  She refused to die.

  Hamish didn’t deserve to succeed in ending her life.

  The problem was, the river wasn’t planning on losing either.

  *

  The river’s strong current flung Cora onto the bank.

  She landed hard, jabbing the side of her face into a broken branch before she reached up and felt her fingernails tearing as she dug her fingers into the earth. She pulled herself away from the water. Chilled to the bone, her teeth chattered. Her body began to shake violently, but she opened her mouth and laughed in the face of her pain.

  She was alive.

  The price of success was pain. A great deal of it. Cora struggled to her feet, smiling in victory. Behind her, the water was crashing. Like a demon snarling at her as she escaped.

  Let it gnash its teeth…

  She lifted her skirts because the water made them too long and heavy. The bank was littered with chunks of wood and uneven stones. She threaded her way along as the horizon was brightening with dawn. She made it up the bank of the river, her reward was seeing the crimson glow of the rising sun. Warmth hit her nose and frozen cheeks. All of the pain throbbing in various points in her body was overshadowed by the sight of daylight.

  She felt herself being reborn along with the new day. Somehow, the person she’d been yesterday was no more.

  Cora looked around, scanning the bank for her sister-in-law. But there was no sign of her.

  At the approach of horses, Cora dropped down, hunching low as she strained to see the colors the men were wearing. She easily recognized the Mackenzie tartans.

  She stood back up. There would be no outward sign of weakness.

  “Cora!” Buchanan was off his horse before it stopped completely. His long legs carried him across the space between them. He reached out, clasping her shoulders.

  “Christ in heaven,” he exclaimed as he looked her over.

  “I freed Rhedyn from Hamish.” Cora refused to acknowledge the concern in his tone. “We had to jump into the river to avoid being caught.”

  One of the Retainers had pulled his doublet off, intending to put it over her shoulders.

  “I am well,” she informed him.

  “Ye are not,” Buchanan argued as he nodded to his man. “But the moment ye are, ye had best have a good explanation for why ye went after Rhedyn yerself.”

  Cora shot her brother a hard look. “I went because I know how to track. Innis was stirring and time was precious. I am no longer a child.”

  Buchanan went still. Cora walked past him, pressing the doublet back to its owner. She felt everyone’s eyes on her as she took the bridle of one of the spare horses and mounted. Buchanan swung up onto the back of his stallion and guided the animal around so he was close to her.

  “It seems ye have skills I have failed to notice, Cora,” he said softly.

  She sent him a proud smile. “Let us find yer wife, for ye can be certain I will not be keeping the books. And if Cormac Grant does nae like me as I am, he can find another bride.”

  It was an ultimatum. One she was overly bold in voicing, but it simply felt correct. She shot her brother a look, but his attention was on recovering Rhedyn.

  Buchanan turned his horse and lifted his hand. With one motion, the entire, double column of Retainers set into motion. Cora kept pace with them, feeling more alive than she had in years. Her skull still throbbed from being smashed in the barn, and the cold was bitter on her toes and fingers. It all paled against the knowledge that she’d freed Rhedyn. The men around her might argue whether or not she’d been foolish or helpful, but in her heart, she’d risen up when circumstances had been dire. No one could take the sense of accomplishment from her.

  Because she would never allow them to.

  *

  Rhedyn was grateful.

  But she was still lying on the riverbank, searching her mind for every scarlet word she had ever heard. Her father’s men had done a good job of shielding her from true profanity, but there were still plenty of outbursts she’d heard.

  “Piss on it,” she uttered as she flattened her hands on the sand and pushed her upper body up. “Curse and rot it all.”

  She hurt, but she was free.

  Perhaps she was little better looking than a half-drowned kitten, but she drew in a deep breath and looked at the marks left from the rope around her wrists.

  She was free.

  The knowledge gave her strength. She gazed up and down the river, but there was no sign of Cora. Concern for the girl needled her. She climbed up through a tangled mess of dead trees to make it out of the ravine.

  “Here now woman!” a man exclaimed.

  He dropped his kilt as she appeared, shooting her a disgruntled look. But it melted away as he swept her from head to toe.

  “Did ye fall into the river, lass?” He offered his hand to her.

  Rhedyn pushed her wet hair out of her face. “I jumped.”

  He was taken aback. “Were ye drunk?”

  “Rhedyn Lindsey.”

  It wasn’t a question. Rhedyn looked further ahead to see Rolfe Munro. He was every bit as imposing as Buchanan. With broad shoulders built up through harsh training, she saw the large claymore hilt of over his left shoulder. His hair was golden with a touch of copper.

  He swept her from head to toe with his blue eyes. “I would say I’ve seen ye looking better, but if ye tell me ye jumped into the river, well then, I think ye appear to have won the day to be on yer feet.”

  “My thoughts precisely,” she answered as though she wasn’t dripping wet and likely crowned with a tangle of hair. She felt chilled to the bone, but there were more important matters to focus on.

  Cora…

  Rolfe had made it to her. He took a couple of steps past her and peered over the edge of the ravine. When he turned back toward her, his expression had turned serious.

  “What sent ye fleeing into the water, Rhedyn?” he asked.

  “A man intent on murdering me and my husband,” she answered. More than two dozen Munro Retainers were watching her.

  Rolfe reached into his doublet and withdrew a small flask. He twisted the cap loose and offered it to her.

  The liquor burned a path down her throat. Rolfe grinned as she tried to avoid coughing. She tipped the flask up a second time, just to prove she could stomach the strong brew before handing it back. “Hamish Mackenzie was stripped of his colors for trying to murder me. He sent his men back to kidnap me and lure me husband out so he could kill him and take the lairdship.”

  “I doubt the Mackenzie would have followed him.” Rolfe took a drink from the flask before replacing it in his doublet. “But for a man who was stripped of his colors, I suppose a longshot is better than nothing at all.”

  There was a murmur of agreement from his men.

  “I’m grateful to have ye be here,” she told him.

  Rolfe nodded. “There is a village no’ too far from here. Best for us to get ye there before Hamish and his men find us.”

  “I lost Cora in the water,” Rhedyn informed him. She again searched the riverbank with a desperate hope, but there was no sign of the girl.

  “Buchanan’s sister?” Rolf asked.

  “Yes. She followed me and cut me lose, but we had to jump into the river or be captured.”

  “So, that’s the way it went.” He’d gone back to the edge of the ravine to look for Cora. Rolfe gestured for two of his men to come forward. “Brawley, take half the men and escort Mistr
ess Lindsay to the inn.”

  “I can’t leave Cora,” Rhedyn argued.

  “I’ll stay and look for her,” Rolfe assured her. “Best ye are no’ here. That way, if Hamish finds us, there will be no reason for the man to start spilling blood. He will no’ know I have spoken to ye. If the man was planning to become laird of the Mackenzie, it stands to reason he’s amassed as many men as he can.”

  “Oh.” Rhedyn understood his logic. “I see.”

  Rolfe looked toward his captain. “Keep a watch on her and send someone back for more men.”

  “Aye, Laird,” Brawley answered with a tug on the corner of his cap. “Here now, mistress, let’s be gone.”

  Rhedyn found leaving the ravine hard. Her feet dragged as she forced herself to see the logic of Rolfe’s orders. The Munro Retainers split, half of them surrounding her as she sat on top of a horse. Their close ranks should have filled her with relief, but there was a tingle on her nape that persisted.

  Out in the open, it would be simple for Hamish and his men to cut them down. Hamish had needed to lure her out of the Mackenzie stronghold to have any chance of killing Buchanan. Such was the reason strongholds were built and taxes paid to the laird to maintain them. Stone walls provided shelter and security.

  Something she felt the lack of as her escort kicked their horses into a faster gait.

  *

  Luck finally offered Rhedyn some of its bounty.

  The sun shone bright throughout the day. The Sparrow’s Nest was run by a widow and her three daughters. They whisked Rhedyn abovestairs after Brawley tossed a handful of silver onto the table. A good bath and scrubbing later, Rhedyn sat down to spend the next two hours combing the knots from her hair. The time was needed for her dress to dry. The mistress of the inn had just brought it back up when Rolfe arrived.

  Rhedyn hurried to look down from the top of the stairs, but there was no sight of Cora. Rolfe didn’t fail to notice her. He shook his head before lifting his leg and climbing over one of the long benches in the common room to sit down. He reached for a round of bread sitting in the middle of the table and broke it.

  Cora might be fine.

  Rhedyn tried to bolster her confidence as she returned to the loft to finish dressing. The sturdy wool of her dress had come through the ordeal rather well. Only a few dark stains remained after the innkeeper had washed it and spread it out to dry.