by Mary Wine
“Well, this is a right cheerful gathering.”
Quinton Cameron was a dark Highlander. The man drew his blood from the Saxon more than the Norman, for his hair was black and thick, and he even kept a beard, one that he did not allow to grow long. But his eyes were blue, hinting at his Celtic blood.
“Cameron, my friend, ye are welcome. Even if my home is nae so cheerful a place at the moment, it is better than the snow.”
“It was nae the snow that drove me in, my friend.”
Robert found himself chuckling in spite of his dark mood. “I’d be disappointed to hear it was so. According to the gossips, ye are on yer way to becoming a legend with all the things ye mange to get involved with. It would spoil my image of ye to hear ye run inside because of a bit of snow.”
“Well, I am nae sure I am no’ happy to be warm, man.” Quinton Cameron took the mug of ale that Deirdre offered him, giving her a wink, which she frowned at. He watched her return to her seat near her sister and the older women presiding over them both.
“I see it’s true, then.” Quinton Cameron spoke plainly, without any pity for his host’s pride.
Robert sank back against the chair, feeling older than his years. “Aye, and worse, for now I’ve lost me youngest to Lindsey. The man took her right out of me own hands and swears he’ll have her to wife now that Deirdre is no longer pure.”
Quinton stopped with his mug only halfway to his lips. “Connor Lindsey took a girl promised to the church?”
“Aye, and the shame of it is, I am to blame, for I failed him by no’ being able to control my eldest daughter.”
Quinton watched Deirdre for a long moment while he drew a long sip from the mug she’d given him before turning her back on him. “I disagree, Robert. Melor is every inch a Douglas. The man knows how to deceive well and good. Ye should nae blame yer daughter for it.”
“I suppose I’ll take yer word on Melor Douglas since ye spend more time at court than I do, but ye are nae a father, and I’ll tell ye straight that I expect better from my children. Ye will too someday when ye’re finished watching the shadows at court and take yerself a wife who keeps yer home warm enough to make ye enjoy being there with her.”
Quinton Cameron shrugged. “The king needs his loyal lairds near him these days.”
There was dark meaning in his words that Robert didn’t bother to comment on. The court was a place of intrigue and danger that he had no liking for. Give him a battle, where he might look his enemy in the eye, instead of a place where a man shook yer hand but dumped poison in yer drink that same day.
“I wish the king were more than a lad, for he could solve this issue between me and Lindsey without the bloodshed that I see as my only recourse.”
Quinton frowned. “Ye do nae mean to march on Lindsey? Ye did promise him one of yer daughters.”
Robert glared at Quinton. “I’m an old man, Cameron, and when ye get to my age, ye begin to have more of a care for just how the Lord is going to receive ye when ye arrive. I promised Brina to the church.”
“But ye promised Connor Lindsey an alliance through marriage to one of yer daughters, and I’ll tell ye straight that I call the man friend. He passed up others in favor of his agreement with ye.”
Robert wasn’t intimidated. Many men would be, for the Camerons were a fierce lot. It was wise not to anger them if you could avoid it.
“That does nae make it right to steal my Brina. She’s a good lass, the only one who has given me the proper respect due her sire, and I’d be a poor father to sit here drinking me ale while she’s imprisoned. Even if Lindsey did ask for her, I told him no, and I have to keep my word.”
“Ye told him no?”
Robert Chattan nodded. “Aye, I did, because I told ye, Quinton Cameron, I’m too old to be offending the Lord by sending him a daughter who will nae serve his church honestly. Lindsey wanted me to exchange the pair of them and send Deirdre on to the abbey because he would no’ suffer the doubt that she would nae be true to him.”
“That’s a reasonable solution, man.” Quinton lowered his voice so that his words remained between them. “One that will keep blood from flowing. Scotland needs her clans no’ bickering between each other, or we’ll find England invading us while we’re busy trying to kill one another.”
“Ye think I should send Deirdre to the church, then?”
Quinton took another long look at Deirdre Chattan. He was no stranger to women who had charms, and there was no mistaking that Deirdre knew how to use her body and enjoyed it. As far as he was concerned, that was not necessarily a shame, even if the church preached against it, but one woman couldn’t be allowed to start fighting between the Chattan and Lindsey.
“I say send her dowry to the church, and if she wishes to take her position there, let her worry about gaining forgiveness.”
“And if she will nae go?”
Cameron frowned. “She’ll remain here, maybe wed a man who will have her with no dowry.”
“That would only satisfy the church if Deirdre came with the dowry that was promised to Lindsey. Brina is my third daughter and comes with less. That means Lindsey would have to agree to having what comes with her and no’ what we agreed upon. The man is already angry. I believe hearing that will turn him toward being enraged.”
Quinton Cameron leaned forward. “That’s an interesting point, but I believe Connor would have to accept yer terms, since he stole Brina. I believe I’ll ask him for ye.”
Robert Chattan frowned and shook his head. “I didna say those were me terms, and now my middle daughter claims she has a true calling. This house has gone mad.”
“Young Kaie wishes to be a nun rather than wed Roan?”
“Aye,” Robert growled. “Yet another problem to face, for the McLeod will likely no’ take it any better than the Lindsey did that the daughter they have been promised is discontented with her lot. If I send Kaie to the church, I doubt Roan McLeod will be pleased to have Deirdre.”
Quinton stroked the side of his beard while he considered the situation. “Roan will nae be pleased, and that’s a fact.”
Robert snorted, but Quinton held up a hand. “What of Erlina?”
Robert Chattan’s face turned red. “Her hellion of a mother has taken her off to Monroe land and will nae even pen a single sentence to me. That is no answer.”
“Having another daughter would be a very fine solution to this quarrel.”
Robert Chattan sat forward and slapped the tabletop. “Erlina is my bastard.”
“So wed her mother and offer her to Roan.”
“I’d have to have her taken into church bound and gagged, for the woman swears she’ll never marry.” Robert shook his head. “And the Monroe give her shelter, so enough said on that matter. Kaie will wed Roan McLeod, and I will march on Lindsey land just as soon as the weather clears enough.”
Quinton held up a hand. “I’ll ride up there first and see if peace might be restored.”
“I did nae give the man permission to wed me daughter; the only way peace can be made is if he returns Brina the way he took her. If ye want to tell him that, ye may.”
Quinton Cameron stood up.
“If it keeps the pair of ye from drawing steel on one another, it’s worth the ride through the snow. I told ye I call the man friend, so it would be better if I rode to his gate instead of ye.”
Robert was silent a long moment. “Yer point about the English is well made. I’ll listen to ye, even if part of me wants to march up there and have it out with Lindsey for no’ respecting my decision on the matter of which one of me daughters he might have to wife.”
Quinton hid his true emotions behind a practiced facade; he was experienced in the art of maintaining an expression no one might see past. That was how a man stayed among the living at court. He forced himself to remain in place while he itched to ride out to Lind
sey land immediately, but arriving dead tired would not be in his best interest. He wanted to keep both the Chattan and Lindsey laird for friends, and he wasn’t jesting about needing the Highlanders to remain at peace or risk invasion from England.
The English had a young king who was now of age to rule, and he favored peace with France. That would free up the English armies to invade Scotland, since James II was only a boy. The Highlands needed to remain united, or there would be no Scotland left. There was also Roan McLeod to consider too, for the man would not be happy to discover a woman in his bed who longed for the life of a nun. That was the sort of thing that a good friend passed along before the wedding sheets were pulled back and a man discovered himself wed to a woman who would always shun him.
So he’d ride to Lindsey land and make sure there was no blood spilled, or he’d take Brina Chattan away from Connor himself, and he’d make sure news of young Kaie’s true calling made its way to Roan.
***
Brina paused at the doorway to the tower. From her vantage point, she could see that everyone was already inside the church; even the two retainers set to watch her stood in the doorway with their attention on the service inside. Something drew her attention from behind the tower, and she couldn’t quite decide what it was.
A sound that was being carried over the curtain wall on the evening wind. The sky was crimson as the sun set, and the wind blew bitterly cold. She pulled a cloak off a peg near the doorway and gathered the thick fabric around her. The garment was too long and obviously made for men who had to venture up onto the walls at night to keep watch.
She held the fabric up in front of her and began climbing the steep steps cut into the wall that faced the high ground behind the tower. As she climbed, she realized that these walls were but protection for the cannons that were set into bunkers every ten feet along the back of the fortress. It was no longer a curtain wall meant to keep invaders from scaling it, because the land dropped away here and no army might attack from this direction. That wasn’t to say that the walls were not thick and built with keeping the castle secured in mind; it was just that they cut away at sharp angles so that the cannon might be aimed in a full half circle out and over the edge of the cliff.
What the cannons faced stole her breath. Bathed in the ruby light of sunset was the ocean. Dark green water was riddled with white foamy caps. The sun was a brilliant half-sphere of golden light that stretched out its beams over the surface of the sea. There was the sound of water crashing down somewhere she could not see from her position on top of the wall, but she smiled and smelled the salt in the air while she drank in the wonder of the ocean, a sight that no drawing on paper might ever have prepared her for.
It was far more majestic than she had ever thought possible; the sound that had drawn her up onto the wall was those white-capped waves breaking down on the shoreline she could not see. She strained to catch even a glimpse of it, because who knew if she would ever have the chance again.
“Are ye truly trying to escape this direction?”
Brina jumped, a squeal crossing her lips as she turned to discover Connor lunging toward her with his hand outstretched. She recoiled from the fury etched into his expression.
But that was a grave mistake, for she was too close to the steeply slanted edge of the cannon bunkers. Ice clung to it, and her shoes slipped right out from beneath her when her weight landed on her feet.
“Connor—”
She reached for him even as she realized that it was too late for rescue. She felt herself sliding down the icy side of the stone surface, the angle of the wall her only salvation, because it kept her from dropping straight toward the ground, where her bones would surely be snapped under her own weight.
Connor lunged toward her, his body surging across the distance between them. His hand captured her wrist, but she was already too far down for him to stop her. He came over the edge of the wall, his cursing filling her ear.
Every second suddenly took forever to pass. She felt each beat of her heart and waited in between them, with enough time to wonder if the last one was the moment when her life ended. She felt her gowns rising up and her bare skin burning as she twisted and turned in an attempt to stop her descent.
But most of all, she felt Connor pulling her against his body and rolling her on top of him to shield her from the scraping ice that tore at the tender skin of her thighs. His sword made a horrible grinding noise against the stone wall, but it was comforting because it meant that the thick leather scabbard was taking the sharp bite of the icy stone surface instead of their flesh.
The ground that seemed to be taking so long to reach suddenly stopped their fall with a bone-jarring impact. Brina found her cry smothered in a spray of powdered snow that flew up all around them, clogging her nose and eyes as it flew into the air. Every joint erupted with pain while her body bounced and rolled with Connor holding her tightly.
She gasped and sputtered as she tried to draw breath through the ice that plugged her nose and mouth. A hard hand scraped it aside in one motion, allowing her to draw a deep breath. Connor only allowed her one before he was yanking her away from the edge of the cliff they had landed on.
“Holy Christ, woman! Ye’re lucky ye aren’t dead.”
Connor was furious, but Brina was still staring at the ledge she had almost rolled over. Beyond it was a fall that would no doubt have killed her, but the waves she had longed to see crashing onto the shore were in sight. She stared at the raw power of the water as it rose up, up, and then curled back down toward the earth to strike it with a roar as if it were being taunted in its attempt to fly.
“What’s wrong with ye, woman? How could ye think to escape in such a foolish manner?”
Connor pulled her to her feet, pressing her back against the base of the fortress wall and depriving her of seeing the shore any longer.
“Ye’re the one who startled me, yelling at me like a lunatic.”
His hand was curled into her cloak, holding on to her, while his face looked as though his temper were hot enough to melt the knee-deep snow they stood in.
“Ye were standing on the edge of the wall, woman.”
“Well, I wanted to see the shoreline… I’ve never seen the ocean before.”
He looked at her with surprise on his face, words failing him for a long moment. “Ye weren’t trying to escape?” He sounded incredulous at the very idea, and her temper rose up in defense.
“I do nae lie, Connor Lindsey, and that has been a frustrating thing, because I’d have escaped ye already if I could.”
She kicked at the snow, because her legs were beginning to hurt, but one of her shoes was missing, and her toes ached when they collided with the snow that was now hard instead of powdery.
“Besides, I didna think tumbling down the surface of the wall was a way out of your castle, but I never had to think of way to escape from a castle until now… because I’ve never been a prisoner before…” She looked around, suddenly realizing they were standing outside the fortress, and in spite of scrapes and bruises, she was very much alive.
“Except that now the fact is proven to ye.”
“That does nae convict me of attempting it. Ye startled me. If ye had nae yelled at me, I would nae have jumped away from ye.” She reached out and slapped at the hand holding her.
He snarled something before bending his knees and lifting her up onto his shoulder once again. It was an intolerable position, and she kicked as she growled at him.
He didn’t smack her bottom this time. Instead he clamped a solid arm across her thighs and began carrying her around the point of the fortress wall. As soon as they left the point behind, the curtain wall rose straight up once again.
“I swear to Christ, woman, ye’re blessed by every angel there is, for I had that wall slanted for those cannons just this last spring. Before that, it was a straight drop down like the rest of
the curtain wall surrounding Birch Stone.”
He set her on her feet and glared at her. Brina narrowed her eyes and propped her hands onto her hips.
“Ye do a lot of swearing at the Savior.”
He rolled his eyes at her. “I thought this morning ye found my profanity amusing.”
“‘Bugger ye’ is entertaining.”
“No unless ye are planning on doing it, since I’ve gone to so much trouble to bring ye to my bed.”
He was in a temper, and she suddenly understood why. The cliff face rose up, cold and unscalable. It was just like another curtain wall, impenetrable from their position at its base.
“Are we locked out of yer own castle?”
He blew out a snort and glared at her. In the fading light, she recognized the scowl on his face and couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “It seems I am nae near yer bed after all.”
“Ye’re daft, woman. It’s freezing out here, and in the dark no one will know we are down here.”
Brina couldn’t help but continue laughing. “I’ve no’ ever heard of a laird being tumbled down the side of his own fortification.”
“Well, I’ve got beardless lads who know enough no’ to go up onto the forward battlements when there’s ice on the stones.”
Brina turned away from him to hide the hurt that slashed through her. It had been foolish to go up onto the wall when it was icy. She faced a solid cliff that the curtain wall was built up against. There was no way around it, and with dusk almost completely fallen, she forgot about her quarrel with Connor, because their situation was grave indeed. With both of them missing, she doubted the men set to guarding her would raise any alarm, assuming, of course, that she was with their laird.
The snow had not melted, and she looked at it now with mounting dread, for it heralded a night ahead with freezing temperatures that could very likely kill them both.