“They must be stopped,” he said at last, his voice low and fierce. “Even if it wasn’t at the Ridge, and we’re up against thousands of knights, we would continue tae fight. We cannae allow them tae wreak more havoc on our kin. Nor can we allow them tae enslave us.”
“Aye, ye have already stated this,” she said carefully. Stretching out her hand, she placed it on his arm. “But think of the widows —”
“The English must be squashed,” he interrupted. His gaze dropped to her hand, but he didn’t withdraw his arm. When he looked up at her, she saw pain and grief reflected in his stormy depths. “Every last one of them needs tae pay for what they did.”
A chill went through her. “There’s more tae this than protecting our bonny land, isnae there?” But he didn’t have to answer her question. She already knew that for him, this coming war was about vengeance.
“Ye would understand if ye witnessed how Brenda Cunningtoun and her family perished.”
“Brenda Cunningtoun,” she said softly. “Was she someone ye loved?”
He shifted his eyes back to the fire, and didn’t answer her.
“If ‘tis so, then a woman ye cared deeply for was harmed,” she concluded.
His head jerked up and for a split second, she saw unshed tears in his eyes. The shimmer reflected off of the fire light, and then it was gone, as if she had imagined the entire thing.
“Aye,” he said, his voice low. She felt the corded muscles in his arm lurch slightly as he clenched his hand. “I cared for her.”
She pulled her hand back and dropped it to her lap. At his tone, she felt her heart begin to ache even though she had never experienced a loss such as his.
“What happened?” she asked.
He stared down at his fist, the whites of his knuckles visible.
“It seemed ‘twas only yesterday that a chieftain put out a call for our help,” he said, his tone cheerless. He leaned over and picked up a stick near his foot. “We surprised the English bastards with our quick arrival, and managed to annihilate a guid number of them. But it wasnae nearly enough.” He pushed the stick into the fire pit, stabbing it into a burning log. “They came searching for us afterward, raiding and torching every town in their path. And then they came into MacGregon territory.” His voice cracked, and he stopped talking as if he couldn’t bring himself to continue.
“And they murdered her,” she said, finishing for him.
“Aye,” he nodded. “The lass along with her parents were burned alive.” The stick in his hand broke in half. “And there was nothing that I or anyone else could have done tae help them. Her older brother Blane was with us at the time, sae at least his life was spared, but Brenda…” he cleared his throat as if he was overcome by emotion, “…Brenda was such a charming and innocent lass; she didnae deserve tae have her life end sae soon.”
Love and sorrow intertwined into his voice, and a curious feeling rose to Adrina’s chest. She pushed it aside, not wanting to examine it any further.
But she caught his gaze, and was startled to see the intense anger and hate that burned there.
Duncan tossed the broken stick into the fire with an unconscious force, causing the sparks to fly every which way. Blue smoke smoldered off of the stick before it burst into flames. “Many people have died in the hands of the English, sae my story is nae unique,” he continued. “Now ‘tis up tae the living tae avenge our loved ones, and tae hold onto what is rightfully ours.”
Duncan stabbed the carcass with his knife, and found that the juices ran clear. Grabbing ahold of the stick, he took the steaming meat off the fire. It was small fare, but it was enough to tide them over until the next meal.
He didn’t know what possessed him to tell Adrina about Brenda. He had tried his best to forget about the lass, but her senseless death had burned a hole in his soul. They had been so close to the horrific scene. Both he and Blane had wanted to tear out from their hiding spot, and rescue the Cunningtouns from the burning house. But Rory held them back. “’Tis unsafe,” he had said.
In the end, Duncan knew that his brother was right. Had he and Blane bolted out of their hiding place, they would have put everyone at risk. Instead of three lives lost, their entire troop might have been maimed or slaughtered.
Cutting off a piece of the rabbit, he offered it to Adrina. She gingerly took the meat from the blade and ate it. He sliced off a portion of the carcass for himself, and started to eat it even though his hunger had disappeared.
Off in the distance, he heard a faint rumble. The wind had started to pick up, and began to tear at the flames in the fire pit. Tilting his head, his eyes narrowed when he caught sight of the darkening clouds. Yet it puzzled him that the last of the sun still shone over the treetops. He also found it odd that until now, there were no indications of the coming storm.
“The horses are restless,” Adrina said, glancing nervously at the beasts.
He looked over at their mounts and discovered that she was right. “They are likely skittish over the approaching storm.” He was about to get up and tend to them when he noticed a raven perched in a nearby tree. “Or perhaps ‘tis the raven that disturbs the beasts,” he added casually.
A startled look appeared on her countenance, and she straightened her spine. “A raven?” she repeated, her tone anxious. “Where is it?”
“On the tree next tae where our rides are tethered.” He picked up another log from the ground, and dropped it into the fire pit. “It appears tae be following us.”
She turned her head toward the spot that he indicated, and stared at the raven in the tree. The blood slowly drained from her face, and when she spoke again, her voice was hoarse, “Has it been following us for long?”
“Since we left town,” he said.
She let out a small sound of distress. “This cannae be guid.”
Getting up quickly from her seat, she searched the ground for a rock. When she found one that was the size of her palm, she picked it up and threw it at the bird. “Be gone!” she hissed.
Her aim was surprisingly good, and the stone struck at the bark, just below the bird’s feet. It opened its stout bill, and let out an irritated kraah before flying to a branch that was higher up. And there it perched as still as a statue, continuing to watch them.
“’Tis still there,” she said, glaring at it. She scanned the ground for something else to throw at it.
“Relax,” he said. “’Tis only a beastie. It cannae harm us.”
“That’s where ye are wrong,” she said, sitting back down on her rock. She hugged her arms to her chest. “Since ancient times, ravens were known tae feed on human corpses. And tae this day, they’re present whenever death and destruction is nigh. Fingal MacNauld disnae care about the ill omens that the raven brings, and keeps one as a pet. He speaks tae the black bird as if it could understand him. And as long as I remember, ‘tis never far from its master.” She squinted at the animal. “It has a tiny crack at the base of its beak —”
“Who’s Fingal MacNauld?” he asked casually. “Is he a relation of yours?”
“Nay, he’s an evil man!” she said without hesitating. Adrina appeared that she wanted to say more, but she laced her fingers together, and laid them on her lap. She became silent for a few moments, as if she realized that her outburst made no sense to him. “He was a cleric, although he took on the duty of principal advisor tae my father. Despite what everyone thinks, I believe that he’s repugnant, and I regret the day that he found employment at Dunnvie Castle.”
“Sae this MacNauld is responsible for your troubles.”
“Aye,” she shuddered. “He’s the one who jinxed us all. Unfortunately the people are unaware of the role he plays in their imprisonment. They often repeated his words as if they were their own, and completed deeds that they wouldnae normally do.”
“And ye are taking it upon yourself tae free these people from his influence,” he said, coming to his own conclusions. He was seeing her with new eyes. Adrina had traveled
all the way to Tancraig Castle with no regard for her own safety. It was a miracle to him, and everyone else that she had arrived safely at her destination even though all manner of danger existed in the highlands.
A loud clap of thunder ripped through the sky, the noise reverberating through to the ground and making it tremble. At the same time, the wind picked up suddenly. The gale lifted the branches high and then snapped them down, violently shaking the leaves.
Over the howling wind, Duncan could hear the shrill whinny of the horses.
“We need tae get our mounts,” he shouted.
He moved forward as the wind lashed at him, whipping his kilt around his legs. Meanwhile Adrina bent her head against the strong wind, pushing her way toward the frightened animals.
The air currents abruptly turned cooler just as fat droplets of rain fell. And then it was as if the sky opened up, and began to dump buckets of water over them. In a matter of minutes, the entire campsite would be flooded.
“We need tae seek higher ground,” he shouted over the screaming gale. He looked over at the overhanging cliffs behind them, certain that they could find some sort of shelter there.
Adrina had almost made it to the horses when a flash of lightning lit across the sky, and struck a tree in front of her. The electric bolt ripped into the tree limb. A loud crack echoed in the chaos just as the branch started to fall.
“Move!” Duncan yelled. But even as Adrina screamed, terror had frozen her to the spot. Without a moment to spare, he dove at her. In his attempt to shove her out of harm’s way, he sent her small body flying, the large branch missing her by a fraction before it crashed to the ground.
Through the roar of the lashing rain and forceful wind, he crawled over to her, her lifeless body sprawled on the ground. His heart started to quicken. Was she injured after all? But when he reached her, he saw that she was unharmed and staring at the broken branch in shock.
“Are ye all right?” he shouted, but the wind ripped the words from his lips, and she couldn’t hear him. He gestured to the rock face that was a short distance away. “We need tae get over there!”
Whether or not she understood him over the thundering storm, she allowed him to drag her to their mounts. He quickly untied the frightened beasts. With the reins in one hand, and the other hand around Adrina’s waist, he maneuvered everyone toward safety.
CHAPTER 11
The rain continued to pound down, while a deafening rumble reverberated around them, making the ground tremble. All at once, a crack of lightning brightened the sky, illuminating a small cave amongst the rocks and shrubbery. Seeing the opening, Duncan quickly steered her into the gap while the horses trailed after them.
It took a few seconds for Adrina’s eyes to adjust to the darkness, and to realize how fortuitous it was for them to find shelter so quickly. She was soaked straight through, and she was cold and shivering.
Adrina looked uncertainly over at Duncan, and saw that he had already taken the saddles off of the palfreys. But he had also stripped off his great kilt, and had the material hanging loosely over the contraptions to dry. His actions were so unexpected, and she gulped when she saw that he only wore his leine, the damp shirt clinging to his muscular form. Try as she might, she was unable to forget how magnificent he appeared in the nude. That image was already burned into her memory the moment she recognized his unmistakable likeness in the smoky haze.
“I’ll light a fire,” Duncan said as he went to scour the enclosed area for dried twigs and leaves.
She wanted to peel off her own wet clothing, but there was her modesty to consider. She twisted her lips to one side, undecided as to what she should do. Still, the damp clothing sticking to her skin made her feel clammy and uncomfortable. She was certain that if she kept her waterlogged clothing on, sleep would elude her, and her night would be long and unbearable. Was it really that harmful to strip off her wet clothing, and be at ease? As far as she could see, there was no one here but Duncan to witness her act of impropriety. And even if he noticed that she wore only her chemise, it was unlikely that he would care.
Putting aside her modesty, she started to undress. Then walking over to her horse, she followed Duncan’s lead, and draped her arisaid and kirtle over one of the saddles. The shift she wore was only a little damp, and would dry quickly once the fire warmed the cave.
“Do ye think the storm will continue for the entire night?” she asked, hugging her arms tightly to her chest.
“’Tis a possibility.” The small fire began to hiss and spit. “Have a seat,” he said, beckoning to a spot beside him. “The fire willnae last too long, sae ye should enjoy it before ye faint from the chill.”
“I’m nae a frail blossom,” she said, her teeth clattering.
Duncan snorted, but didn’t argue with her. He stretched his hands to the fire, and let out a satisfied sound. “Suit yourself then. There’s more fire for me.”
Standing off to the side and quavering in her damp shift did nothing to improve her spirits, nor did it stop her teeth from clattering. The rain had soaked through to her skin, almost as if a thin layer of ice had formed there. With some trepidation, she inched closer to the fire. Stretching out her hands, she tried to feel its warmth, but she knew that she was too far away.
Duncan raised his eyes to the ceiling in exasperation. “Ye need tae come closer, lass. I promise ye, I willnae bite.”
When still she hesitated, he walked over to her, scooped her up in his arms, and settled her down on his lap. He then circled his heavy arms around her body, drawing her close to his solid chest, and allowing her to draw from his heat. She should have moved away from him, but the warmth he provided was comforting. And instead of squirming away, she snuggled closer to him. Her senses became alive with his musky, manly scent. And slowly her shivering subsided.
A comfortable silence enveloped them, which was interrupted by the occasional crackle from the fire. Soft light danced on the cavern walls, encircling them in its cozy embrace. Somehow being in his presence made her feel safe and protected. These sentiments were odd since she barely knew the man. But that wasn’t entirely correct, a voice reminded her. She had already met Duncan in her dreams.
“Ye ken, ye are different from any man that I’ve known.”
“Likely ye arenae acquainted with many men,” he said, one corner of his mouth quirking up.
“’Tis true, but I feel that I’ve known ye for some time.” And for some reason as well, she felt that she could trust him.
Adrina paused, her mind reaching back to the embrace they shared by the loch, an embrace that had left her confused, and craving something that she couldn’t quite comprehend.
“Why did ye kiss me earlier?” she asked, staring into the pulsating embers. Her courage had suddenly left her, and she was afraid to find ridicule in his eyes. She was a woman full-grown, but she had never experienced ardent passion from any man.
“I couldnae resist the temptation,” he said, shrugging. “And ye are a bonny lass.”
“Nay, I’m nae.” She turned to face him, and shook her head in embarrassment. “’Twas an interesting experience. However I presume that the husband chosen for me will educate me further in the ways of kissing.” She just wasn’t certain that she would ever experience the same feverish excitement that Duncan triggered in her. Of course, this wasn’t something that she could reveal to him.
“’Tis the way of matrimony,” Duncan said, unaware of the direction of her thoughts. “Your father will choose a suitable laird tae ally with Clan MacGill. And if ye are lucky, your husband will treat ye with kindness, and ye willnae want for anything.”
“What if the laird disnae love me?” she asked before she could stop herself.
He lifted one dark brow in question.
She swallowed, and forced herself to continue, knowing that he waited for her to speak. This worry had bottled up inside of her for so long that it needed to be voiced. Fingal had convinced her father that she was best served as a pawn. Her
main role was to help secure an alliance with a more dominant clan. But there was more to life. She was sure of it. And she wanted more, much more. “My biggest concern is that I’ll nae love the man chosen for me,” she said finally.
“A lass must do her duty, and assist her clan.” He raised a hand to touch her, but at the last moment, he checked his gesture. “I’m sure that whoever marries ye will find himself a fortunate man.”
Adrina felt a flush rising to her cheeks, now regretting what she had revealed. She had never told anyone of her dilemma, and it was too much to ask that a highland warrior would sympathize with her troubles. “I suppose ‘tis best tae view marriage the way ye do,” she said, letting out a hollow laugh.
An awkward silence descended upon them. Shifting her body, she felt a need to slide off his lap, and put as much distance between them as possible.
But he stayed her movements.
She stared at the large hand on her arm. The heat from it was palpable, and it seared through the thin material of her shift. When she raised her regard, she discovered him looking back at her, his expression inscrutable.
“If ye desire more education in the ways of kissing, I can help.”
“But ye already kissed me by the loch.”
“Nay, despite what ye think, that smooch was nothing.”
“What are ye saying?” she said warily.
He placed a heavy palm on the side of her face and gently tilted it. “If ye want tae ken a real kiss,” he said, the soft light reflecting off his emerald depths. His large palm slowly ran up and down her spine. “I’ll show ye.”
Adrina held her breath as her gaze dropped to his lips, watching as they came closer and closer. Her eyes fluttered closed just as his mouth grazed hers. An explosion of color flashed behind her closed eyelids. Letting out an involuntary sigh, she allowed her body to melt against his hard contours. Then as if it had a mind of its own, her hand skimmed along his bicep, over his muscular shoulder. For a moment she marveled at his marbled strength before she cupped the back of his head, and yielded to his embrace.
The Highland Curse (Scottish Strife Series Book 2) Page 9