The Highlander’s English Woman (The Stelton Legacy)

by Ruth A. Casie

  “Yes. Donald wasn’t able to go any farther. I come from The Maxwell. His hands are tied. I’m leaving—”

  “You mean, we’re leaving. Together. You’ll not go without us,” Sean said. The men nodded their agreement. Jamie looked from one man to the next. Each stood with him. These men were farmers, like him. Herbert was right. They were a strong fighting force. He nodded.

  “I don’t know what we face. I can guarantee it won’t be easy.”

  “Is there any news of the family?” someone asked.

  “Gareth took Lord Wesley and the family away to London. They are speaking with their king.”

  “Who took Glen Kirk?” asked another.

  “The Earl’s flag flies over Glen Kirk,” he said. Another rumbling went through the group.

  “Jamie, Lady Laura is to marry... She’s not involved...”

  “The Maxwell and I don’t think she’s aware her family has been routed or that Reeve has taken the castle.”

  “Then we’ll have to wrestle it back,” a man shouted.

  “Gather your things. We’ll leave one or two at a time and meet by the cemetery when the sun is full up. There are people sympathetic to Lord Reeve and I don’t want to alert anyone that we’re leaving. They’ll find out soon enough. By the time they do, we’ll be close to home.”

  Laura’s head snapped up. She glanced sideways, relieved no one had noticed her dose. Her rhythmic bouncing on the horse and the steady beat of the metal tack made her eyelids heavy and difficult to keep open. She straightened in her saddle and adjusted her seat. She wished she had cold water to splash on her face. Anything to stay awake.

  This was not the same route she and Jamie had taken. Reeve had chosen an easier, more southern trail that took them up through England, rather than through Scotland. Reeve pushed the party hard yesterday. If he hadn’t stopped to refresh and rest the horses, she was sure he would have driven them straight through. She had no illusions. This route was not for her convenience. He wanted to be off Scottish soil.

  After stopping for a cold meal under a full moon that lit the trail, Reeve pushed further until they came to a coach house by the Northumberland Forest. She had slept soundly last night, but ached this morning. Another grueling ride was not what she wanted. She’d be sore for a week.

  She couldn’t reach Glen Kirk fast enough. Why had she listened to Herbert? She should have returned to Glen Kirk right after she and Jamie put Evan to rest. There was no need for her to stay in Scotland.

  She glanced at Reeve riding next to her. The soft seductive tone of the last three weeks vanished yesterday. Other than seeing to her needs and comfort, now he ignored her.

  How could she marry him, the king’s decree or not? As a child, there was little gentleness or understanding about him. He could be kind and considerate when he wanted, but his outbursts said much about him. Reeve and Bryce, Harmon when he was alive, were all of the same temperament—hurtful and mean. Not like Richard or Jamie who...

  Jamie. Her thoughts always came back to him.

  “You’ve been deep in thought since we started this morning,” Reeve said.

  She jumped at his voice. He’d been silent for hours. What would he say if she told him her thoughts? That she knew his plan to kill Jamie.

  “My thoughts are of Glen Kirk.” The caravan continued through the forest along a well-traveled trail.

  “You set a good example for the men. Eager to return to Glen Kirk and claim your rightful place,” Reeve said.

  “My rightful place? I’m my father’s daughter—”

  “You’re my wife.”

  Her snapped around toward him.

  “I’m not your wife. At least, not yet. My dowry is not Glen Kirk.”

  “Your father may outwear the king’s pleasure with his neutrality. Now that Edward is finished with Wales, he’ll look to the north. Confrontation is coming between England and Scotland and the king needs leaders he can depend on, not ones who would sympathize with the enemy.”

  She faced forward. The air was mild, but his words sent a chill ran up her back.

  “As my wife, you’ll support my decisions. That is foreign to you, but you will learn. Your father may tolerate your mother’s insubordination. I will not. Of course, you can voice your opinions to me in private.”

  Her mouth hung open.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jamie and Sean had caught up with Reeve and his troop, but stayed away so they would not be detected. Crouched low, the two highlanders scaled the rise, then peered over the rim. In the small valley, Laura, Reeve, and his men rested.

  “He’s pushed them hard,” Sean whispered. Jamie motioned for him to retreat. He didn’t want to risk being seen. Jamie and Sean backed down off the rise and stood at the bottom.

  “He must be anxious to get to Glen Kirk.”

  “Lady Laura seems calm. Do you think she knows the Reeve’s flag flies above the castle?” Sean asked.

  “No, I don’t.” Jamie let out a breath. “Take my horse. Go back to the men and get on the other side of Bells Burn. I don’t want them in England.”

  “Where are you going?” They brushed themselves off and headed for the stand of trees where Jamie’s men waited.

  “Ravencroft isn’t far from here. I want to observe what Bryce and his men are doing. If I cut across the ridge, I can get to Glen Kirk before Laura and Reeve.”

  As they approached, he signaled the men to mount up.

  “I don’t like leaving you with no one at your back,” Sean said.

  Jamie handed him the reins to his horse.

  “If anything happens, send Ned back to Caerlaverock to tell The Maxwell and Donald. I’ll need you to protect Cumgour.”

  Jamie waited while his men moved quietly toward the border. He hiked up the trail, then angled off to the East.

  He quickly gained the second hill and looked through the trees at Ravencroft in the distance.

  The sun hung low in the sky. The wind had picked up and sent leaves scurrying into circles. He listened to the forest. He breathed in the woodsy fragrance of pine cones and wild flowers. All was as it should be.

  He reached the familiar old tree and climbed almost to the top. From the perch, he had a clear view of the castle battlements. As boys, he and Richard had come often to spy on Bryce.

  His heart thumped at the memory. He kept watch for a few more minutes. All was quiet. No one prepared for battle. No one cleaned weapons. He glanced toward the stable, but there wasn’t much activity. The sun would soon be setting. If he wanted to be at Glen Kirk when Laura arrived, he better leave. He climbed down the tree, feeling better. He wouldn’t be fighting on two fronts.

  He rushed through the forest like a sure-footed deer and came to the meadow. He ran along the deer path moving from tree to tree. A column of riders led by Laura and Reeve came into view. He glanced at the castle, relieved to see the Reynold’s flag flying.

  Laura rose in her saddle when Glen Kirk came into view. Her horse stamped, trying to break free of Laura’s grip.

  Reeve held the column back, but it appeared Laura would have none of that. She gave her horse the lead and it responded. She flew across the meadow and made for the gate, leaving Reeve and the others behind. Reeve slapped his horse’s hind quarter and charged after her. Reeve didn’t look pleased.

  Laura came to an abrupt stop in front of the gatehouse. Her horse, eager for the stable, was a handful to control.

  “Open the gate.” Her voice carried on the wind.

  Dark clouds streaked across the sky. Every so often, they blotted out the moon and made it easier for Jamie to move without being noticed. The village was quiet and tucked in. Not unusual for a late October night.

  Torches on the battlements revealed men wearing Reeve’s colors standing guard underneath the Reynolds flag. Best to keep hidden and not tempt fate. He stepped back into the forest and came face-to-face with a small charm hanging from a branch. He turned and squinted in the darkening light. The trees wer
e filled with Lisbeth’s polished stone charms that in the daylight caught the sunlight and twinkled like fallen stars. The charms were Lisbeth’s doing. This one was for protecting the area. He kept to the edge of the forest.

  He waited in the shadows of the cemetery wall. He snorted. He was sure Reeve’s men had opened a barrel or two of Wesley’s brew. The ale was Wesley’s best weapon. Now, there was magic. The brew went down smooth and easy, but after a few tankards, one became incoherent. He’d wait until he was sure the ale had taken affect.

  He opened the cemetery gate and made his way to the small building where the 9th century remains of William the Brave rested. In the building was a hidden passage that led inside the castle. A dangerous place for boys to play. He and Richard prided themselves on being the only people aware these tunnels existed. Forgotten over the centuries, it had taken them weeks to clean out the debris and shore it up to make it usable.

  The hair on the back of his neck stood. Someone was with him inside the cemetery. He crouched behind a tombstone. In the distance, a dark shadow proceeded along the path.

  Jamie took stock of the man as he made his way to the Reynolds’ family graves. He thought at first Reeve came to pay his respect to Richard, but the form was all wrong. This shadow was bigger, more agile. The man stopped and waited. For whom? For what?

  Jamie moved for a closer look. His brushed against a tombstone and knocked loose pebbles that rested on the top to the ground. In the complete silence, the cascade of stones sounded like boulders echoing in a valley.

  In an easy, elegant move, the man drew his sword. No, this wasn’t Reeve. Jamie did the same.

  The darkening shadows made it impossible for Jamie to identify who he fought. That didn’t stop either man. His attacker put him on the defense. Jamie retreated in a matter of seconds.

  Jamie and the shadow parried and lunged. Evenly matched, neither gave signs of tiring. Several times he almost had the man, only to have him bound over an obstacle and come back for more.

  Just like...

  “For a moment I thought you fought like Lord Richard,” Jamie said. The man answered with a barrage of strikes.

  But Jamie held his ground. He fought stroke for stroke until they came into a close battle position, the hilts of their swords locked against their chests. Clouds moved and the man’s face was revealed under the moonlight.

  Jamie dropped his sword and froze. His heart pounded. The man threw his head back and laughed.

  “Richard?”

  The laughter subsided. Richard put his arm around Jamie and squeezed him close. “I wonder if Father has any ale? How I would love to taste it one more time.”

  He gazed into the eyes of his close friend and experienced the warmth of his friendship. How was this possible? No. He shook his head and searched the man’s face again.

  Eager to be close, and share his joy of seeing him, Jamie grabbed Richard’s hand. Cold and as icy as the winter stream.

  “You should see yourself.” Richard took on a serious expression. He broke away from Jamie, picked up his friend’s sword, and handed it to him. “Dropping your sword. I’ve never seen that maneuver before, unless of course it’s the result of being killed. You’re better than I remember. The farmer has turned into a warrior.”

  “Come sit with me,” Richard said.

  The two friends sat on a stone bench chiseled with the Reynolds name.

  “I practiced. With Laura. She’s quite good with a blade.” A nervous laugh bubbled up as Jamie shook his head. “If I hadn’t met Evan and Angel at Caerlaverock I wouldn’t have thought it possible. How easily I accepted them. But, am I crazy? Are you... here?”

  Richard’s pale and drawn face stared at him with pain-filled eyes. “I’m here only—”

  “Because you have something unfinished that needs to be done.” Jamie closed his eyes. It was painful losing Richard before. He’d have to lose him all over again.

  “Yes, something important.” Richard glanced toward the castle. “You are aware that this is a trap.” He turned back to Jamie. “Reeve went to great lengths to capture you, and is using the one person for whom you would sacrifice your life. Laura is his bait.”

  “Edward ordered their marriage.” Jamie stared at the ground.

  “I fear my king is going to be very angry that someone is making statements attributed to him that he never made.”

  Jamie sprang off the bench. “What? He would lie about the king?”

  “Reeve wants Glen Kirk. It will give him the prestige he seeks for his empty title. He’ll drain the Glen Kirk coffers dry before the end of next year. With me gone and no other heir, Reeve could marry into the family and have property and a vast fortune.” Richard made sense, of course. If Edward didn’t order this marriage, then he had to tell Laura before it was too late. But—

  “Why Laura, when Lisbeth is the oldest? No, I have no ghostly powers.” Richard raised his hands and wiggled his fingers. “Your question is easy readable from the expression on your face. Reeve holds a grudge for a long time.”

  “Reeve has known from the start that I caused Harmon’s death.”

  “He can’t prove you killed Harmon,” Richard said, one corner of his mouth pulled into a smirk.

  “I went mad when Harmon attacked Laura. You and Herbert were there. If you didn’t stop me... Well, that doesn’t matter. The next day he was dead. I did the deed and you took the blame.” The image of that night haunted him. Thinking about it made him angry enough to pummel the man all over again. Richard touched his arm.

  “I let them believe I fought Harmon because they would declare it an unfortunate accident.”

  “What do you mean, at the time?” Jamie asked. Richard smirked again.

  “Things aren’t always as they appear. Harmon didn’t fall asleep never to wake up. He was suffocated. Unless you held the pillow over his face, you didn’t cause his death.”

  “Wait. You make my head hurt. In this last hour, I’ve encountered your ghost, found that Reeve is tricking Laura into marriage, and now I’m not responsible for Harmon’s death.” Jamie turned to him. “I can believe the first two, as odd as that sounds, but I know I killed Harmon.”

  “Who had the most to gain when Harmon died? Certainly not you.”

  “Gain?” Pensively Jamie stared out into the darkness. “Reeve. He became the heir.”

  “Correct. If Harmon still lived when his father died, Reeve would get nothing. Harmon was already spending through his allowance. Once he got hold of all the assets, there would be nothing left. His father was too sick to stop him, so Reeve did.”

  “You think Reeve killed Harmon?”

  “I don’t think, I know. He didn’t risk having someone else do it. Too much was at stake and time was of the essence.” Richard slapped him on the back. “All you did was fight with Harmon. You beat him badly. He had it coming for what he did to Laura.”

  “How are you so certain?” Jamie asked.

  “Nothing so unworldly I assure you. The tent walls on the Welsh battle grounds were thin. Reeve and Bryce had been drinking heavily. Reeve complained about being short on funds. He spent a great deal on trying to impress Edward. He mentioned he should have seen to his brother sooner.”

  All these years, he carried this guilt. Jamie stared at Glen Kirk.

  “She loves you,” Richard said, matter-of-fact.

  “Aye. I love her, too. I will until the day I die.” He closed his eyes. His words burned deep.

  “Then why do you hesitate? And don’t tell me because she is my sister. There is no better man for her than you. I had Evan tell you.”

  Jamie let Richard’s words soak in. Finally, he let out a long breath.

  “These are difficult times. A Scots in residence at Glen Kirk would never be tolerated. One English lord or another would be at the gate with their demand.”

  “Laura loves Cumgour. For some reason, which I cannot understand, you want to be a farmer. Make her a farmer’s wife.”

  Jami
e was too startled by his suggestion to offer an objection.

  “Don’t look so surprised.”

  “But—”

  “If you love her, and the family, you mustn’t let her marry Reeve. If she does, the family will fall. Reeve will not only bring the family to ruin, he will bring it to extinction. You’re their last hope.”

  “You give me a heavy burden.”

  “I give it to the one person who can handle it. By the by, I would think with Reeve you’ll need the direct approach. He isn’t a clever thinker.”

  Richard stood.

  “Must you go? The family would...” The pain of Richard leaving tore at him.

  “They lost me once. I couldn’t make them go through that again. No one must know I am here. My destiny has always been Glen Kirk. My last deed is to secure Glen Kirk for the future. For that, I need your help. No one else will do.”

  Slowly, Jamie got to his feet. “You put much trust in me.”

  Richard put his hands on either shoulder. “Your shoulders are broad enough to carry the burden. Until my parents and Gareth return, you need to keep Laura safe and away from Reeve.”

  “I will,” Jamie said.

  “Next time you come, bring me a tankard of Father’s ale. I would like to taste it one more time.” Richard turned.

  “Richard, what happened in Wales?”

  Richard stopped walking, and looked over his shoulder.

  “I didn’t watch my back.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  For the last few miles, glimpses of Glen Kirk’s spires teased in the distance. To navigate the dense woods, Reeve slowed their pace. It made these last miles seem endless. She could walk faster than the column traveled. Several times she stopped herself from giving her horse his lead and letting him gallop ahead.

  A tiny glint of light pulsed from a tree ahead, and she broke into a broad smile. She scanned the area, pleased to identify Lisbeth’s charms swinging from branches. Giddy with anticipation, she reined in her excitement and continued on next to Reeve.

  Minutes later, they came out of the woods into the meadow. She halted and stared at Glen Kirk bathed in the rich colors of the setting sun. The castle wasn’t as impressive as Caerlaverock. That didn’t matter. She was home.