Seduced by Her Highland Warrior

by Michelle Willingham

  ‘She won’t,’ the lady assured her. ‘I protected this one from harm.’ She pointed towards the young boy, before she shivered and wrapped her cloak around her for more warmth. ‘I can’t say how I’ll manage it, but be ready to claim her at nightfall.’

  Laren stood up and faced the Lady, eye to eye. ‘She’s just a baby. And I won’t lose her.’

  Lady Harkirk took her hand. ‘I’ll keep her safe.’

  Alex’s eyes were dry and raw from lack of sleep. He’d searched every last inch of the forest, but there was no sign of Laren anywhere.

  Had she been taken when Callum had left her alone? If anything happened to her, he blamed himself. The thought of her falling into Harkirk’s hands infuriated him.

  ‘If she’s in that fortress, we’ll find her.’ Bram had returned early this morn, with the promise of aid from Nairna’s father. He gripped Alex’s arm in silent support. ‘We may as well assume she’s there.’

  Alex’s grasp upon reason was slipping away. The very thought of Harkirk touching Laren, hurting her… It made him understand why Bram had lost control in the battle several months ago when Nairna was threatened.

  The thought of Laren’s gentle face, her fiery red hair falling over her shoulders, made his heart twist. He remembered how he’d slept with her in his arms, their unborn child resting beneath his hand. And the thought of losing them sent his temper roaring.

  He crossed towards Callum, shoving his younger brother against the back of a tree. ‘Why did you leave her? She could be dead right now, because you left her alone!’

  Bram and Brochain dragged him back, but Alex’s lungs were tight, his rage unchecked. And seeing the emptiness in his brother’s eyes only provoked him more.

  Callum didn’t know what it meant to love a woman. He didn’t understand. Losing Laren would be like ripping his heart out of his chest. There would be nothing left but an emptiness that would never be filled.

  ‘If we’re going to find them, you need to get control of yourself,’ Bram insisted. ‘If you strike out at one of us, you’re not helping Laren.’

  He knew it. But damn it, the need to lash out was all consuming.

  ‘While you were inside last night, we found a possible way to break into their stronghold,’ Bram interrupted.

  He nodded towards Brochain MacLachor, who offered, ‘There is one part of the fortress that has suffered from water damage. The wood is rotting, almost crumbling in places.’

  ‘Go on.’ Alex eyed the man, not knowing what he was suggesting.

  ‘I broke away sections of the wood. The beams behind it aren’t stable. If we set them on fire, the walls will crumble.’

  Alex nodded. ‘Good. We’ll split our forces and distract Harkirk’s men with a direct attack while you take down the other part of the fortress.’

  ‘And what of my brother?’ Brochain asked. ‘Did you find him last night?’

  ‘He’s hurt, but alive.’ Alex gave no further information, for he hadn’t forgiven the MacLachor chief for putting Adaira in danger.

  ‘And what of his daughter?’

  ‘She’s gone.’

  Brochain’s mood grew sombre. ‘We have to get Finian out.’ He rested his hand upon his sword. ‘And your daughter.’

  ‘We’ll free them,’ Alex said, ‘and all the other slaves who were left behind with no clan to help them.’ His gaze drifted over to Callum, who gripped the handle of his bow in silent agreement.

  ‘I spoke with Hamish MacPherson last night,’ Bram continued. ‘He promised a dozen men of his own to provide a distraction while we bring down Harkirk’s fortress.’

  ‘What kind of a distraction?’

  Bram only shook his head and shrugged. ‘He didn’t say.’

  Alex didn’t like all the unknown factors that would impact their attack and an unsettled feeling permeated his mood. ‘Harkirk will be waiting for us,’ he said. ‘He sent the soldiers last night to find out about the fire they saw. Since the men never returned, he’ll know we’re here.’

  ‘That may be,’ Bram acknowledged, ‘but there’s no other alternative. Unless you have another idea?’

  ‘I do,’ came a female voice from the trees.

  When he spun around, he saw Laren standing there. As he crushed her into his arms, he didn’t even care what anyone else thought.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Where were you? And why did you leave Glen Arrin?’ he demanded, holding her so tightly, that Laren could hardly breathe. The worry on his face, along with the sleepless shadowing under his eyes, made her cling to him.

  ‘You needed help.’ She touched his hair, dragging his mouth to hers for a soft kiss. ‘I couldn’t let you face Harkirk’s soldiers with so few men.’ The strain upon her husband’s face made it seem that he’d aged fifteen years at the thought of losing her. She tried to soothe away his dark mood, though she was secretly glad he’d been so worried.

  ‘It was too dangerous to stay here with the fire Callum built,’ she went on. ‘A boy came to warn me,’ she answered. ‘He led me to a shelter where I spent last night.’

  ‘Who was he? And where was this shelter?’

  Laren shook her head. ‘I don’t know his name. But he wasn’t English.’ She described the location of the shelter to him, then raised her hands to rest upon his shoulders.

  ‘Alex, he knew where Adaira was.’ She would have followed anyone with information leading to her daughter. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know the boy’s name. ‘Lady Harkirk is taking care of her. She came to us early this morning and has promised to help us.’

  Alex stiffened at the mention of the Lady. ‘Why would she venture beyond the fortress, unless it was at her husband’s bidding?’

  She predicted the direction of his thoughts and shook her head. ‘No. She was angry with Harkirk. She said she’d be glad if he were killed in battle.’

  ‘Or she might have lured you into trusting her.’

  Laren didn’t want to believe it. ‘She promised to bring our daughter near the entrance of the fortress at sunset.’

  ‘Where Lord Harkirk will be waiting with soldiers to cut us down.’

  ‘I don’t believe that,’ Laren argued. ‘She helped save the life of that boy—she’s kept him in hiding.’

  Her husband shook his head. ‘You’re too trusting, Laren.’

  It was clear that he didn’t believe Lady Harkirk at all. And it might be that the woman wasn’t telling the truth. But Laren had seen regret in her face, as though Lady Harkirk wanted nothing to do with her husband’s deeds.

  ‘Does she know about the attack?’ he asked.

  ‘She knows we’re here. But she doesn’t know how many of us there are.’

  Alex’s face turned grim and he exchanged a glance with Bram. His brother said, ‘The MacPhersons will be here soon. We need to get our men into position.’

  ‘Go, then,’ Alex ordered. ‘I’ll join you in a moment.’

  Bram obeyed, taking Brochain with him. Callum picked up his bow, but Alex motioned him back. ‘You’re staying with Laren. And, so help me God, you’d better not leave her.’ His brother gave a nod, his fist curling around his weapon.

  Before Laren could voice a protest, Alex cut off her words. ‘Trust me on this, Laren. Trust me to get Adaira back.’

  In his eyes, she saw his frustration and worry. He drew close to her, his hand moving down to the swelling at her waist. ‘When I thought I’d lost you, you can’t know what that felt like. I worried that you were Harkirk’s prisoner, that he’d hurt you somehow.’

  He lightly stroked the unborn bairn. ‘I won’t let that happen. Even if I die this day, at least I’ll die knowing that you’re safe. That this child will live.’

  In his eyes, she could see the intrinsic need for her to remain out of harm’s way. ‘All right,’ she acceded. ‘I’ll stay behind with Callum.’

  He touched his forehead to hers. ‘Good. Go to the top of the hillside and wait behind the rocks. Hide yourself.’


  She moved into his arms, holding him tightly. He stroked her hair back from her face, ordering, ‘No matter what happens to the rest of us, promise me you won’t interfere.’

  ‘If your life is threatened—’

  ‘It’s a risk I’m prepared to face. But not your life.’ He lowered his mouth to hers. ‘Swear it.’

  Her eyes were bright with unshed tears, but she lowered her head in a silent promise.

  Alex waited with Bram at his side. In the distance, he saw Hamish MacPherson’s men approaching, led by the chief himself. Hamish wore elaborate clothing trimmed with gold thread, along with jewelled rings upon his fingers. Alex walked up to the chief and Hamish sent him a faint smile. He seemed extremely uncomfortable about the visit.

  ‘Harkirk knows of your intentions,’ Hamish said without prelude. ‘His men are positioned at every part of the fortress. If you ride in with us, you won’t come out alive.’

  Alex met the man’s gaze with his own resolution. ‘We have reinforcements ready. And if I can get Adaira out, that’s all that matters.’

  Hamish nodded to one of his retainers, who dismounted and offered his horse to Alex. ‘So be it.’ He glanced around and asked, ‘Is Bram with you? Nairna won’t be at all pleased with me if I get her husband killed.’

  ‘This isn’t Bram’s fight.’

  Hamish grunted. ‘It is, if you’re is involved. I know him too well for that.’ The older man shifted his weight in the saddle and Alex brought his horse alongside the chief. With a heavy sigh, Hamish admitted, ‘I don’t know if there is enough silver in Scotland to pacify Harkirk’s greed. Or to save your throat.’ His expression grim, the chief asked, ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’

  ‘I’m going to bring back Adaira, whatever the cost may be.’ Alex nudged the horse forwards, leaving Hamish with no choice but to follow. They rode up the path toward the gates and the archers tightened their bowstrings. If he didn’t have Hamish at his side, Alex didn’t doubt that the soldiers would murder him where he stood. They held their arrows in check, only because they honoured the tentative truce between the MacPhersons and their own men.

  When they reached the first wall, more soldiers stood. They closed the path behind them, cutting off any escape. Alex stared at the spears, wondering if he would feel the cold thrust of the metal tip within his ribs before his men attacked. Or would his death come with a blade to slit his throat?

  He let the morbid thoughts run through him, deadening any emotions he felt. He would accept his fate, as long as he saved Adaira.

  Lord Harkirk awaited him at the top of the stairs that led into the tower. The man wore chain mail, his bearded face flushed with satisfaction. Beside him stood Lady Harkirk, and in her arms was Adaira.

  ‘Da!’ his daughter shrieked, stretching out her arms. She started crying and Alex felt his control slipping away. He saw her baby-fine red hair, tinted with gold. Her hands reached for him, and in his mind, he thought of David.

  I won’t let you go, he swore silently to his daughter. I won’t let him hurt you. She was his flesh, born from his spirit just as much as Laren’s. One day she would grow into a beautiful woman, like her mother. Even if he wasn’t there to see it.

  ‘I understand you wanted my head, Harkirk,’ Alex called out. ‘I’ve brought it to you. But first, you’re going to return my daughter into the care of Hamish MacPherson.’

  ‘Am I?’ The Baron walked slowly down the stairs, as if savouring the moment. ‘And what if I refuse?’

  ‘You would harm an innocent child?’ Hamish demanded. ‘Because of your bloodlust?’

  ‘She carries MacKinloch blood in her. As far as I’m concerned, the fewer MacKinlochs, the better.’

  Lady Harkirk looked alarmed when her husband reached for the child. She never took her eyes off Harkirk, and when he held Adaira above the stairs, he said, ‘Come here, if you want her.’

  Alex hesitated, knowing that as soon as he left the safety of the MacPherson soldiers, he risked his life. But neither could he let Harkirk harm his daughter.

  ‘If I drop her, she’ll break her neck,’ Harkirk taunted. ‘Is that what you want?’

  Alex moved forwards, but was startled when Hamish’s men accompanied him, covering his back. He hadn’t expected them to guard his life with their own. With a grateful look towards Hamish, he moved to the bottom of the stairs.

  ‘Take her, then.’ With that, the English Baron tossed Adaira down the stairs and Alex dived forwards, catching his daughter before she could strike her head. His heart was racing at the thought of her near encounter with death and he held her tight as she cried in his arms.

  Lady Harkirk sent a frigid look towards her husband before she disappeared into the tower. The Baron didn’t seem to notice.

  ‘Give her over to Hamish MacPherson,’ Harkirk ordered, ‘or my archers will kill both of you.’ His soldiers moved in closer, several archers poised at the ready.

  Alex held tight to Adaira, whispering in her ear, ‘I love you, a nighean.’ Be safe, he prayed.

  He gave Adaira over to Hamish, murmuring, ‘Signal the others to attack.’ It was harder than he’d thought it would be, for he was afraid it was the last time he’d see his daughter. But at least she would live. He’d kept his promise to Laren, regardless of what happened now.

  Numbness settled across him as the soldiers took him into custody, binding his wrists behind his back. And when they struck him, he sank to his knees, tasting the blood in his mouth.

  Lady Harkirk didn’t care that she was betraying her husband and countrymen. When Robert had thrown that child down the stairs, any fragment of loyalty she’d ever felt had disappeared.

  Now that the baby was with Hamish MacPherson, she hoped the child would be safe, but she had to make certain. She went to the far corner of the main room and walked down the spiral stairs leading to the storage chambers. Robert had built a passageway to escape the fortress, in the event of a siege. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to walk away from this place.

  The sound of chains rattling caught her attention. She peered into the darkness and saw the prisoner her husband had ordered beaten. He’d been brought below last night and it occurred to her that he might prove useful, though he was weak.

  The man was shivering violently while his breath clouded the frigid air. If she left him here, he would die. Already he was suffering from exposure, his body half-frozen with cold.

  This is a mistake, she thought, as she reached for the keys to unlock his shackles. The man was larger than Robert, his body heavily muscled despite his weakness.

  ‘If I release you, will you promise not to harm me?’ she asked quietly. His face jerked upwards, as though he hadn’t been aware of her presence. He blinked, and she wondered if he could see her.

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘Alys Fitzroy. Lady of Harkirk.’ She shivered in the cold, reaching for his manacled wrist. ‘Don’t even think of using me as a hostage. I want to leave this place, just as you do.’

  The man stared up at her and she saw something flicker on his face, almost like a sense of regret.

  ‘What is your name?’ she asked, as she released the second manacle.

  ‘Finian,’ he answered. ‘I’m the MacLachor chief. Or…I was, before this.’ His face grew weary, as if he no longer cared about anything any more.

  Alys folded her hands in her skirts and retreated. ‘If you follow me, I’ll show you a way outside the fortress. That’s all I can do for you. You’ll have to make your own escape.’

  ‘Why would you offer me help?’ the chief asked. He struggled to his feet, wincing at the pain as he took one step, then another. ‘Surely Harkirk would be furious.’

  ‘I’ve been his prisoner for four years now. I don’t need anyone else to endure what I have.’ She swallowed hard. ‘If I could free the others, I would. But he keeps them locked away, nearer to his soldiers. I don’t know why he put you here.’

  ‘Because they caught me trying to escape last night
. He intends to make an example of me.’ Finian rested his hand upon the wall and Alys saw another shiver rack his body. She removed her cloak and set it around his shoulders.

  He stared at her and she couldn’t say why she’d done it. What had begun as pity had suddenly transformed into necessity. There was something about this man that reached inside her, almost as if she needed to save him.

  ‘I can’t accept this,’ he said, holding out her cloak.

  ‘You need it more than I do.’ And with that, she fled. Before she could reach the exit, he caught up to her.

  ‘Why me?’ he asked, his voice dark. ‘I’m the last person who deserves this.’

  She didn’t speak, nor would she look at him. He was frightening her with the tone of his voice.

  The chief’s hand curled against the wall. ‘It’s my fault. This battle…the loss of men’s lives.’ He shoved the cloak at her, as though it were on fire. ‘If the MacKinloch’s daughter dies, it’ll be on my soul.’

  Alys started to speak, but held her tongue. Though she wanted to condemn him, she saw the desperation and the fierce guilt in his eyes.

  ‘Then make amends for what you did.’ She pushed gently against his chest, gaining distance. ‘Or go, if that’s your wish.’

  ‘I deserve to die,’ he admitted.

  Alys held out the cloak again. ‘That’s not for me to decide.’ Her heart trembled as he took it, huddling beneath the wool. More than anything, she struggled to hold back the words she wanted to speak to him. But what he needed now wasn’t comfort; he needed redemption. And sometimes redemption wasn’t kind.

  ‘If you’re truly sorry for what you did, you could help them.’ She led him up the stairs and showed him where her husband’s weapons were stored. ‘Will you atone for what you did? Or will you turn your back on those who are suffering?’

  Laren huddled behind the rocks and when she spied motion below, she crept from her hiding place. Hamish MacPherson rode out and she could hear Adaira weeping.

  Her eyes swelled up with tears, but she couldn’t stop herself from crying. She wanted to leave the forest, to go running after her child. Yet she’d made a promise to Alex. She’d given her word that she wouldn’t leave the trees.