Her Enemy Highlander

by Nicole Locke

  The clearing revealed a slight valley. Within a short walk from them were several homes, fences and the distinct smell of animals.

  It was cold with the oncoming night, but while they travelled, there could be no more fires. The sight of the homes had her envisioning warmth, food and shelter. Safety, but only if....

  ‘Could he be here?’ Impatience and cold made her ask a question there could be no answer to.

  ‘Are we stopping here?’ she asked when Caird kept his silence.

  She knew he wasn’t ignoring her, but assessing the risk of what lay ahead of them.

  ‘You stop here,’ he finally replied. ‘I need answers.’

  * * *

  When Caird returned it was fully dark. He was carrying a bundle, and all alone. As he approached, his strides slowed. Only then did she stand and emerge from the tree cover.

  ‘Over here,’ she called.

  He took the remaining steps and threw the bundle on the ground. She smelled the bread before he handed it to her.

  ‘It’s still warm,’ he said. ‘There’s venison as well.’

  His body was only a shadow. Her hands fumbled to find the offered bread. Touching his hands seemed oddly intimate in the dark. ‘Bread making at night?’

  ‘The wife was heavy with child. The daughter was making bread.’ He took a bite.

  Caird must have frightened the family when he knocked on their door. A large unknown man and a wife and daughter in need of protection. Caird might have been in more danger in that home than if he’d run into the Englishman.

  ‘You were there for a while.’ She took a bite of venison, and offered him their supply of water.

  He shook his head. ‘There were chores.’

  Chores. A domestic hearth and a family together.

  Their journey had been full of lies, revenge, legends and murder. They were so removed from hearth and home, she’d almost forgotten it existed.

  ‘They saw the Englishman,’ he said.

  She almost choked.

  ‘He was walking next to an ill horse.’

  She swallowed and didn’t hide her smile. Her plan to slow him had worked. But Caird’s voice didn’t project the same satisfaction.

  ‘There’s a village just beyond the next hill,’ Caird continued. ‘We’d see it now, but it’s dark. He’s there, Mairead.’

  So close. She took another bite. The venison was delicious, but its taste was dimmed by the fear and relief giving her gooseflesh. The nightmare would get worse before it was over.

  ‘He’s returned here.’ Caird’s emphasis held a warning. ‘You ken?’

  She nodded even if he couldn’t see. That he’d returned meant the Englishman had come this way before. This could even be his home, his seat of power. By the cave, they’d been surrounded by men. Caird had killed them, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more.

  ‘You think he has accomplices?’

  ‘Soldiers are here.’ His words were clipped. ‘Trained men and only God knows how many.’

  He was angry, very angry. When she offered him the water, he took it.

  There were dangers besides the Englishman. ‘He’s here though. He’s here and we can still get the jewel.’

  ‘We’ve nae time, nae defence, nae men,’ he said.

  ‘Are you saying we cannot get the dagger and jewel?’

  Even in the dark she saw him flinch.

  After all his arrogance, his forcefulness, his determination to get them here. After she had risked her life, he was giving up?

  ‘That’s your plan?’ she said. ‘Wishing for things we doona have? Is that a trait of all Colquhouns? Because us Buchanans are not that fortunate. The odds are never in our favour, Colquhoun. But my idea will still work.’

  ‘Nae!’ Water sloshed in the skein as he tightened his grip. ‘I make nae wishes. I plan, I get answers and I learn all the faults of my enemy. When I am through, I make conquests. Your idea is nothing but impulsiveness. You risk too much.’

  ‘But the jewel is right there,’ she said, exasperated. ‘We’ll make adjustments.’

  It was dark, the moon cast only a faint glow, so she couldn’t see, but she felt his glower. So she glowered right back. ‘You’ll just need to go into the village before me and take care of these soldiers.’

  He made a sound, which sounded stupefied and pleased at the same time. ‘By myself?’ he said.

  ‘Odds not in my favour are familiar to me. Are you saying a Colquhoun cannot do it?’

  ‘Are you questioning my bravery?’ he said, his voice unamused.

  Since that was what she was doing, she stayed quiet.

  ‘It’s dangerous and will get us killed,’ he said. ‘I will go this night and see what the village entails. Find the soldiers and count them.’

  ‘Thus getting spotted by the Englishman because I’m not there to distract him.’

  He cursed.

  ‘We have nae other choice,’ she argued. ‘Tomorrow, you’ll go to the village before I do. The horse is sick, it cannot be held in a barn. When I get there, I’ll pretend to steal it. You ken I’m good at lying.’

  He remained silent, not liking this part of the argument.

  Perhaps reminding him of their differences wasn’t the way to sway him. ‘I’ll distract him while you keep his soldiers busy,’ she continued as if she didn’t sense his disapproval. ‘Then you can come behind him.’

  ‘What if it’s a soldier who finds you before the Englishman?’

  ‘I’ll make certain I’m recognised.’ She had to believe she was enough of a concern that the Englishman would want to kill her himself.

  ‘You have to know what you risk,’ he said. ‘Why do you want to risk this?’

  Didn’t he realise this was almost over? She wanted it to be over. For years, she had been sheltering her family from her brother’s recklessness. This nightmare was just more agony. Caird acted as though he didn’t want her to risk herself. She didn’t want to think this was more caring from him.

  ‘Why do you ask a question that has already been answered?’ she replied. ‘Nothing has changed in this. You’ve mentioned the importance of the jewel. You can keep it, but I want the dagger.’ Although the dagger may not repair all the damage her brother had done, she still needed the money.

  He shifted, not away or towards her, but almost as if what she said shocked him. She was glad the cover of darkness hid her expressions from him, but she needed to see his reaction to understand what he was thinking.

  ‘You do this for gain, Buchanan?’ he said.

  Good. They were back to their clan names. There would be no more caring from him, she could stop her errant fascination and this could be over.

  ‘Why did you tell me of your brother?’ he demanded.

  She jumped, but should have expected his question. He kept asking even though she refused to answer him. In truth, she didn’t fully understand why she’d told him. Now, if she confessed to more, if she trusted him with the whole nightmare, then she feared it would mean she cared for him. She knew any feelings for him would be a mistake.

  However, he wasn’t giving up this relentless need to ask her. So she’d tell him some. Some. But not everything. Not the reason, for that guilt was hers alone. The fact was, by her impulsive mistake, she’d killed her brother. And that shame must stay buried deep in her, like a knife.

  ‘Maybe I need to make this right,’ she said. ‘Ailbert died. Maybe I need it to mean something.’

  Caird moved towards her. ‘Who are you?’ he said. He was close enough to see now. ‘Everything I’ve ever known—’

  A brief gust of wind blew a tendril of her hair. Caird captured the loose curl. While his fingers stroked the strand, he watched the spring coil and uncoil.

  He was so ref
lective she wasn’t sure he knew what he did. Her hair tangled easily, and if she pulled away it would hurt. That was the only reason she stood still while he brushed his fingers through her hair. It couldn’t be because she felt his eyes gazing as if he was in awe.

  ‘Your hair, Mairead,’ he whispered. ‘I could follow this hair anywhere.’

  He smiled, a brief glimpse of white in the dark. ‘I have followed this hair everywhere.’

  When he found a tangle, his other hand reverently undid the knot. ‘Even before I knew who you were or what meeting you would mean, your hair beckoned me to follow you.’

  There were many knots. She waited for the pain, but it never came. For a man who wielded and killed with a sword, he gently freed each lock.

  ‘But I cannot follow blindly on this.’

  Shaking his head, Caird released his touch. ‘This is nae plan. We doona know how many soldiers there are; you won’t know how much time to give me. I could be killed and you may not know.’

  All true, but she’d seen him fight. If he could surprise the soldiers as well, she believed he had a chance.

  ‘This plan will work,’ she insisted, her hair still tingling from his touch.

  The plan had to work. Her goal was the same: find the dagger. But now she felt fear. Now, she knew the consequences even with Caird there to protect her. Maybe her fear was because of Caird. Knowing, if she made a mistake, as she always did, she would put his life at risk.

  ‘You cannot even stay safely here until I tell you they’re dead.’

  She couldn’t. She had to go into the village soon after he left. The Englishman couldn’t know Caird had killed his soldiers. To ensure that, she had to distract him.

  It was frightening. Before, she had impulsively chased after her brother’s murderer. Now, she knew how deadly the Englishman was, and still intended to confront him. She didn’t want to reflect on how many soldiers there’d be or where they would be hidden.

  She was scared. But it still had to be done.

  ‘I cannot allow this,’ he said firmly. ‘Not while I have breath left in my body.’

  ‘Worried for my safety?’ she taunted.

  ‘Aye,’ he replied.

  Trying to gain distraction from his words, she took the last bite of bread.

  ‘We’ve run out of time.’ She swallowed. ‘If we wait, he could go where we can’t find him. We can surprise him.’

  His hand swept over her chin to cradle her face and bring her eyes up to his. It was too dark to see what was in his gaze, but she felt it all the same.

  ‘How could you trust me in this?’ he said, too evenly.

  There was something he wanted her to understand. She didn’t want to understand. It would be over soon. He didn’t know everything and soon they’d return to their different clans.

  ‘Does trust have something to do with this?’ she argued. ‘I saw you fight.’

  ‘But I’ve failed you, Mairead, more times than I’ve protected you. I abandoned you to that madman. He could have taken so much more!’

  ‘Abandoned me?’ Even unconscious and slumped into a puddle, Caird had provided her with comfort and strength. If it had been just her, she didn’t know if she’d have even raised her eyes to the Englishman. ‘You almost died. How could you think that was abandonment?’

  He was silent, but she knew he was weighing her words. He wanted to tell her something.

  So she waited. She waited while he cradled her cheek, while his other hand skimmed down her arm and back up again.

  His eyes roamed where his hand went, but she didn’t think he saw what he was doing. She couldn’t see either, but she felt every bit of it.

  ‘Clever Buchanan, haven’t you guessed?’ he asked.

  She didn’t understand and something inside her didn’t want the answer to his question. ‘You almost died,’ she repeated. ‘I never felt abandoned.’

  His hands stilled, then he drew her to his chest. She felt and heard his sigh. ‘This isn’t the time to tell you...’ he started. ‘Nae, I must think and we must try to sleep. We have blankets now.’

  Stepping away, he snapped open the blankets and lay down.

  When she lay down, she didn’t protest as Caird adjusted his body around hers and pulled her tighter into his embrace. In the cold of the night, she welcomed his heat.

  Warm, fed, protected, she fell asleep.

  * * *

  ‘It’s time,’ Caird whispered.

  Mairead opened her eyes. It was still dark, but she knew morning approached. He had to leave before the sun.

  If he was leaving.

  Caird shifted beneath her and, releasing his tunic, she reluctantly disentangled her legs. Yet, greedy for his warmth, she remained on top of him when their eyes met.

  Grey, fathomless eyes met hers. Her Colquhoun had been searching for his answers all night.

  Warm, rested, she didn’t question why she was on top of him. Pushing on his chest, she adjusted her position to look more fully at him. ‘Have you decided?’ she asked.

  A brief nod. ‘It is—’

  ‘Impulsive,’ she offered.

  ‘But the surprise could win us this.’

  Grateful she hadn’t moved, Caird held Mairead. He needed to hold her more. He couldn’t believe he’d agreed to it, a Buchanan plan, an impulsive plan.

  There were answers he needed and too many variables. They talked of the soldiers, but there were villagers, too. Enemies or friends, he didn’t know. If he could take down the soldiers, maybe they would rise against the Englishman or maybe they would kill them.

  It was madness. But because of the madness, because of her, it might work.

  Anything else was unacceptable. The Englishman could not have the Jewel of Kings and Mairead insisted on having her dagger. If they waited any longer, they could lose both. Surprise tipped the odds in their favour.

  He stood and pulled her up with him.

  ‘You’ve agreed?’ she whispered.

  Caird felt Mairead’s hesitation and could almost touch her fear. It was her idea, but it was risky. How could he be a man and send her into the village alone? It would only take a moment for the Englishman to kill her and the plan meant he would be too far away to prevent it. He couldn’t ask it of her.

  ‘All night, I have thought of this plan and how to change it,’ he answered. ‘It’s madness when we doona even know what we face.’

  She shook her head. ‘We must do this. I must do this. You’ll be protecting me, Colquhoun. You’re not saying someone else is better at swordplay?’

  She teased, but her eyes held fear. Her fear almost undid him, almost made him stop this whole madness. But the only way to stop it, to end her pain and fear, was to capture the dagger and kill the Englishman.

  ‘Mairead, my hesitation has never been for me,’ he said. ‘I know what I face. With one soldier down, I will have a sword. Even wounded, I’ve the strength of many men. But I can’t keep you safe because you must distract the Englishman. You risk too much.’

  Mairead blinked tears away before he could see them. Caird was displaying more care. And something in her was answering him. She was beginning to believe they were different, but everything in her knew they couldn’t be. She’d made too many mistakes.

  It would be over soon. He’d have the jewel; she’d have the dagger. They would part. But she had been held throughout the night. He had feared he abandoned her, when she’d felt only comfort from him. Now he risked his life, but was only worried about hers.

  After years of battling with her brother’s gambling, her sisters’ empty giggling and her mother’s frailty, she found, despite everything else, comfort in Caird’s silences, his need to plan, his need for answers.

  There was a part of her that wondered if she wanted to keep some of th
is nightmare. At least the part with Caird.

  ‘Nae, I doona risk anything at all,’ she finally answered, knowing what she was about to say would surprise him. But she liked the idea of surprising him. Especially now. So even though it was a mistake to tell him anything of her feelings for him, she couldn’t help it. ‘We’re different together now,’ she said.

  Caird held absolutely, unerringly still. Waiting.

  She wouldn’t make him wait long. They didn’t have long and she wanted to see his expression.

  ‘I knew we were different,’ she continued, ‘that day at the river. When you had the horse and the dagger, and I was being drowned by the water. You came back for me.’

  ‘I thought,’ he whispered, ‘you didn’t remember. You said you didn’t remember. Why do you mention this, Mairead?’

  ‘Today, I know there’s nae risk,’ she answered. ‘Because, like then, I know you’ll come for me.’

  Caird didn’t blink and though he held still, it wasn’t because he was waiting.

  It was because a Buchanan had bested a Colquhoun. Again.

  She grinned.

  Then she couldn’t any more as he hauled her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers.

  His hands, his arms, his mountain of a body wrapped around her. She was instantly, wholeheartedly surrounded by overpowering male desire, and it wasn’t for domination over her, or for taking, but for giving, and giving more.

  When his mouth eased, when his tongue beguiled her, she did the only thing she could: she gave back.

  Then when his hands lifted her up and against him, she clung to him. There wasn’t anything else she wanted to do.

  He ended the kiss before he ended his tight hold on her. Deep shudders shook his body and he held her until they stilled. She couldn’t stop her own trembling. So it was he who disentangled her hands and slowly, and very reluctantly, let her down.

  ‘You will wait; you will give me time,’ he said vehemently. He peered straight into her eyes. The grey depths demanded she understand and obey exactly what he ordered. ‘Promise me this.’