My Highland Warrior (Warriors of the Highlands Book 1)

by Miriam Minger

  Magdalene stared stupidly at the dark-haired maidservant, for in truth, such a summons was the last thing she would have expected from the young woman.

  To tend to her as Gabriel had said, aye, but this? He had barely disappeared down the hall, her heart aching to run after him—dear God, what might Seoras have in store for him?

  And why had the maidservant spoken to her as if she sensed that Magdalene had her full wits about her? She must have been crouching at the door, listening to her and Gabriel, yet they had spoken quietly enough, hadn’t they?

  “Y-your mistress?” Magdalene queried, doing her best to tamp down her apprehension as curiosity overcame her.

  The maidservant at once bobbed her head and stepped closer, though she glanced over her shoulder as if to see that no one else was in the hallway. Her brown eyes held pleading in them when she met Magdalene’s gaze.

  “Cora MacDougall, Earl Seoras’s wife. She must speak with you—an urgent matter. Please, Lady, will you come with me?”

  Magdalene knew she still stared stupidly, even more astonished by this revelation and not knowing what to do.

  Her first impulse was to start whirling in place and cackling nonsense so the maidservant would turn and run, but the earnestness in the young woman’s eyes stopped her. Instead, Magdalene took a hesitant step forward, and then another, the maidservant grabbing her hand and pulling her out into the hall.

  “Not that way, Lady, this way.”

  They didn’t move toward the tower steps that Gabriel had just taken, leading downstairs, but turned to the left and ducked through a cracked door. Another maidservant, her dark hair tinged with silver in the light of a lantern she held high, awaited them in a musty stairway that reminded Magdalene of the one at MacLachlan Castle, her heart starting to pound.

  Och, no, were they taking her to the top of the tower? She remembered clambering up and down these steps as a child, but she had never ventured all the way to the roof.

  To her immense relief, the women guided her downward to a lower floor and out through another door. Magdalene recognized the hallway at first glance as leading to the sumptuous bedchamber that her parents had once shared.

  At least before Elspeth had gone mad from grief and Donal had moved her up to the smaller room, her father unable to bear looking upon the wretched lunatic that his wife had become. Such unhappy memories assailed Magdalene that she faltered, but the maidservants spurred her along with urgent whispers that they must hurry.

  A moment later and all three of them ducked through a polished wooden door unlike the rough-hewn one upstairs, a thin, midnight-haired woman in a somber black gown rushing to greet them.

  At once Magdalene noted her striking resemblance to Cameron and Conall, and she wondered if they might be related. She had heard through Sister Agnes that her brother had wed a Campbell, but she had never given another thought about it.

  “Magdalene, come in, come in!”

  If she had feared danger, Magdalene saw the same earnestness in Cora’s dark blue eyes as that of her maidservant, which made her lower her guard. She felt pity swamp her, too. Her brother’s wife, mayhap only a year or two older than herself, didn’t look well. Her face, though lovely, was gaunt and pale, her fingers bony and cold as she clasped Magdalene’s hand.

  “We have only a few moments tae talk and then you must return tae your room. I’ve feared for you since your marriage—but I’m so pleased that I was wrong. When I saw you and your husband from my window—”

  “You saw us?” Magdalene echoed, remembering the shared glance between her and Gabriel as he carried her into the fortress—even as Cora nodded.

  “Aye, and you’re no more a lunatic than I’m the happiest of wives—och, Magdalene, forgive me for misjudging Laird MacLachlan. I thought him ruthless and cruel like my husband, and that he might hurt you. I should have known my two cousins wouldna follow such a man into battle or swear loyalty to him—”

  “Cameron and Conall?”

  “Aye, I saw them, too, and thank God they are both well and hearty. We played together as children, but I’ve not spoken tae them since they entered your father’s service—though the Campbells have long chafed under MacDougall rule and one day will rise up tae overpower them—”

  “Cora, of what do you speak?” Magdalene interrupted, her mind spinning. “I-I dinna understand—”

  “Och, you will! Seoras had Malcolm MacLachlan slain—and you must tell your husband. Aye, it looked an accident, but it was murder! Seoras sent one of his men to fell his horse and then he twisted him by the neck, killing him. Dinna ask me how I learned of it, but I know it’s true!”

  Tears sprang to Cora’s eyes while Magdalene clasped her hands tightly, so stunned that she could but shake her head—wondering what Gabriel might do to learn such news.

  “You must go now, Magdalene. They’ll be sending servants tae your room tae bathe and dress you before the feast. A celebration of your marriage, Seoras has claimed it—God forgive me, how I hate him!”

  Now Cora began to weep silently, her narrow shoulders shaking. All Magdalene could think to do was enfold her in her arms and hold her, Cora’s tears soaking her gown.

  “Someone must end this madness…end my suffering. Mayhap if heaven is kind, I’ll know love one day like you know love, Magdalene. In so brief a moment, I could see it in your eyes—in your husband’s eyes…”

  “Aye, I love him,” she murmured, realizing then, too, that she hadn’t yet said those words to Gabriel. When would she see him again so she might have the chance?

  “He will want proof…Laird MacLachlan,” Cora said as she lifted her head, her tear-stained face appearing even paler than before. “The man who killed his brother is named Tavish…he’s never far from Seoras’s side, one of his most trusted henchmen. Mayhap your husband can somehow lure him away—ah, go now, Magdalene!”

  Cora pushed her away, not unkindly but as if in desperation, and gestured to the two women who waited in silence by the door.

  “You can trust them, they’re Campbells, too. They came here with me when I married your brother—wretched day!”

  Now Cora fairly steered her by the elbow toward the door, though Magdalene grabbed her hand.

  “I’m so sorry for your unhappiness, Cora, truly—”

  “Your happiness has given me hope when I had none upon waking this morn—Magdalene, you mustna tarry! Your secret is safe with me, aye, it’s wise that Seoras believes you mad. He’ll not trouble himself with you, though I’ve heard him rage with jealousy of your husband. Malcolm’s murder? Your marriage? It’s all been part of Seoras’s plan. He wants tae be king, but he’ll never know such respect as Laird MacLachlan—och, if ever there was a chance tae thwart him, it’s in your husband’s hands! He must know of Seoras’s crime!”

  Her heart in her throat, Magdalene nodded, though everything Cora had revealed made her mind race as she hurried out the door.

  It seemed she had barely blinked and she was once again in her mother’s room, alone. The maidservants who had escorted her having no doubt returned to their mistress while Magdalene could but pace the floor.

  Feeling sick and more apprehensive with each passing moment as she wondered when she would see Gabriel again to tell him what all she’d learned.

  All because Cora had glimpsed from her window overlooking the bailey what Magdalene now feared others might have seen—heaven help her, she prayed not!

  She nearly jumped out of her skin when a loud rap came at the door.

  Another pair of maidservants appeared just as Cora had said they would, one carrying thick towels while the other held her bag of belongings. Both women stepped aside as three brawny men followed them into the room lugging buckets of steaming water.

  Magdalene wanted to rush past them and run downstairs to try and find Gabriel, but she sensed they would stop her if she tried. Every one of them seemed to eye her with uneasiness as if unsure of what she might do.

  “Earl Seoras’s own sist
er…Mad Maggie,” one of the maidservants whispered to the other, a plump girl with red hair, who nodded at her pock-faced companion and shifted nervously while the men poured the water into a wooden tub.

  “Aye, she spit upon him—can you believe it? She doesna look so mad to me, though—och, what’s she doing?”

  Magdalene had closed her eyes and spun slowly in place, humming to herself as Cora’s words—a warning, truly—rang in her brain.

  It’s wise that Seoras believes you mad.

  Aye, it was wise that everyone she encountered from then on believed her mad, just as she had promised Gabriel. If it might help him in any way…

  Magdalene opened her eyes and began to flap her arms like wings.

  A crazed grin on her face that made the maidservants gasp and the men grab their empty buckets and lunge from the room.

  Then she began to laugh, a shrill, earsplitting sound that she hoped would reach every corner of the fortress as the wide-eyed women inched forward…no doubt wondering how they were ever going to get her into the tub.

  Chapter 21

  Whatever happens, husband, your path is my path.

  Gabriel stared blindly at the parchment map of Argyll spread out in front of him, the babble of masculine voices in the great hall doing little to pull his mind from Magdalene.

  My loyalty is tae you, not Seoras. Never Seoras.

  Such love swelled in his chest that it felt almost painful, and he glanced in the direction of the tower that housed her, wishing he hadn’t been forced to leave her so abruptly.

  That thought brought him back in sharp focus to the discussion around him even as Seoras’s irritated voice rose above the din.

  “Are we distracting you, MacLachlan? Mayhap you might offer your view of our plan tae capture Robert the Bruce.”

  “It’s a good strategy,” he said tightly, knowing all eyes of Seoras’s barons and their captains were upon him. His own men stood not far behind him, and he sensed tension emanating from Alun, Conall, and Cameron as he tried to bridle his own. “A surprise attack as soon as your scouts arrive with news of King Robert’s whereabouts—”

  “Not a king, man!” Seoras cut him off with an outraged roar. “Dare you say that in my presence? A usurper! A murderer more deserving of his head skewered on a pike than the Scots throne! As soon as he’s dead, I will stake my claim to the crown and all of you will do well tae support me! That is, if you value your lands and titles and wish for more of the same. Your loyalty will be rewarded, I vow it—by myself and King Edward.”

  A startled murmur moved through the assemblage at this pronouncement while Gabriel felt the hair prickle at the back of his neck.

  Had Seoras’s lust for the throne spurred him to strike some bargain with Longshanks to make him king while Scotland, long struggling for independence, would remain a vassal of England?

  From the smug look on Seoras’s face, Gabriel judged it to be so, no doubt a signed letter from King Edward with a blood red seal in his possession. He glanced around him at the nods from the barons—but not all looked pleased.

  Not all. Meanwhile, Seoras sat down heavily in his chair, a buxom maidservant rushing forward to fill his cup with red wine.

  The earl had put on weight since Gabriel had last seen him, an air of dissipation enveloping him as he drank deeply, gesturing for his barons to join him.

  Power and ambition, a dangerous combination for even the most level-headed of men…but in Seoras, it felt like looking upon the devil himself, Gabriel’s own bargain with his overlord to wed Magdalene paling in comparison.

  Now he couldn’t imagine his life without her, but his disposition that night when Seoras had sat smirking at him with his courtiers laughing all around had been cheerless indeed.

  He’d had no choice but to agree to marry her, and in exchange he had sworn to protect Seoras’s lands from Robert the Bruce and his followers—yet treason burned ever brighter in Gabriel’s heart with this news of King Edward championing Seoras’s cause.

  Was it true? Gabriel couldn’t say, but dangling lands and titles before the barons appeared to be enough for them to stand with Seoras…though again, not all. Some showed their reluctance by the somber looks on their faces while Seoras shoved the map aside and waved for everyone to join him.

  “Let’s drink tae our victory! That usurper canna stand against our might! MacLachlan, grab a cup or I’ll think you’ve no desire to be among us! Surely that lunatic you call a wife hasna bewitched you somehow—och, did you hear that?”

  Gabriel did hear it, a piercing peal of laughter coming from the direction of the tower where he had left Magdalene.

  Not docile at all, but so raucous and high-pitched that it carried down the steps like lightning and into the great hall, ringing from the pitched rafters.

  “Good God, is she playing some lunatic’s game with the servants?” Seoras queried Gabriel as an amused grin lit his ruddy face. “We’ll need no performers at the feast from the sound of it, Mad Maggie certain to entertain us!”

  As some of the barons and their men broke into laughter, holding out their cups for comely maidservants to fill, Gabriel clenched the one he’d been given in his fist.

  “Are such festivities a wise thing on the eve of battle?” he grated, glancing toward the nearest tower as more shrill laughter made him wonder if Magdalene might make herself sick from the intensity of it. “Mayhap it would be better tae wait—”

  “Nonsense, man!” Seoras cut him off, looking affronted by Gabriel’s suggestion. “All is in readiness and after our refreshment, we’ll tour the battlements so the lot of you can see the fortress is impregnable—impregnable, I tell you! Now drink up!”

  The rest of the barons rushed forward to oblige, whether solemn-faced or not, while Gabriel took a swallow that nearly choked him.

  No more laughter came from the tower, and he wondered if the servants who had been sent to attend Magdalene might have stuffed a cloth in her mouth.

  Either that or she had plopped onto the bed in exhaustion from such an effort, the ruse that he’d made her promise to continue certainly convincing. He wanted so badly to make some excuse and go to her—was that riotous display a signal that she needed him?—and he even lowered his barely touched cup to the table.

  “Dinna trouble yourself with my sister,” Seoras’s voice broke into his thoughts as if sensing his disquiet. “Your concern for her welfare is commendable, but she has servants aplenty tae care for her. Now pick up your cup and drink, MacLachlan. You’ve much tae celebrate! When Robert the Bruce is defeated, you’ll have twice the land and castles! You can lock Mad Maggie in the highest tower after she bears you a son, and forget about her altogether.”

  The heartless timbre of Seoras’s voice chilling him, Gabriel did as he was bade, though he hated Seoras at that moment.

  The wine bitter on his tongue while his mind once more flew to Magdalene, wondering again why she had grown so quiet. If anyone did anything at all to harm her…

  “Lady MacLachlan?”

  Startled from lying flat on her back on the bed, Magdalene sat bolt upright and stared in astonishment at Conall Campbell poking his head into the room.

  Upon seeing her, he at once registered relief on his handsome face, and he started to back out even as she lunged from the bed to run to him.

  “Wait, please!”

  She’d hissed at him for the red-haired maidservant that had stayed behind to watch her after Magdalene had bathed and dressed had nodded off in a chair near the door. Thankfully the girl remained fast asleep, her chin resting on her chest, her snores a chorus of snorts and gurgles.

  “I canna stay,” Conall hissed back as Magdalene reached him. “Gabriel couldna come up himself so he asked me tae check on your welfare. I’m happy tae tell him you are well—och, Maggie, where are you going?”

  She had pushed past him into the hallway, whirling the cloak she’d grabbed from a peg near the door over her lavender gown and throwing the hood over her head. She wa
sn’t surprised that he had addressed her in so familiar a manner; he and Gabriel were the closest of friends after all. Nor was she taken aback that he seemed fully aware that she was no lunatic, just as she had thought earlier in the day of his captains.

  “I must see my husband!” she blurted in explanation, continuing down the hall as Conall strode after her. “This news canna wait another moment—”

  “Gabriel’s with your brother and the rest of the barons. He didna think I’d be missed tae come back inside tae check on you, but I canna take you with me! They’ll be inspecting the ramparts by now, and then the armory and wherever else Earl Seoras orders them. They might very well go right up tae the feast and you’ll see him there—”

  “No, Conall, I canna wait until the feast!” Magdalene stopped so suddenly that he nearly crashed into her, his tall physique somehow dodging her with great agility. Tears bit her eyes, which made him swallow hard and stare at her with dismay.

  “Ah, Maggie, Gabriel will never forgive me tae have made you cry. He loves you more than life, lass—aye, even now he must be grinding his teeth at wondering about your welfare. After all that crazed laughter coming from the tower—”

  “So everyone heard me? Good!” Magdalene swiped at her tears and grabbed Conall’s arm, as hard and muscled as Gabriel’s. “Tell my husband that he’ll find me in the stable. I know where tae hide and I’ll watch for him! I know this fortress as well as any—please, you must go quickly!”

  She didn’t wait for a reply, but hastened away from him and skipped down the steps, a low curse telling her what Conall thought of her plan.

  She didn’t think it so wise, either, but what else was she to do?

  Even if she waited impatiently until the feast, there was always a chance she and Gabriel wouldn’t be seated together and then what? He needed to know of Seoras’s treachery! Keeping her head lowered, she reached the bottom of the steps and was grateful to see that servants bustled to and from the great hall, all of them too busy making preparations for the feast to notice her.