Kidnapped by a Rogue, kindle

by Margaret Mallory

“Can’t ye see?” she said. “I’m happy to be carrying your child.”

  “Ye want a child with me?” he asked.

  “Of course I do,” she said, blinking back tears.

  He pulled her into his arms and held her. God knew he was not fit to be a father. But if by some miracle Margaret had the child, he would try his best. And if she lost the babe, he would be there to comfort her. He needed to be with her, no matter what came.

  ###

  “Ye came and found me,” Margaret said, leaning back to look into Finn’s eyes, “even though I told ye I was going to leave ye.”

  “I had to be sure ye were safe,” he said.

  Finn would never know what that meant to her, after the men of her family and her former husband had valued her so little.

  “I never truly wanted to go to my sister’s,” she said. “I was afraid of so many things. Afraid to love you. Afraid you’d desert me when I needed ye most.”

  There was only one thing she was still afraid of.

  “Una told me ye rescued Alex,” she said. No matter his own ambition, Finn would not leave his cousin in danger. But that did not mean he did not want to become an earl in Alex’s place.

  Finn told her the tale of Alex’s rescue then, though she suspected he left out the dangerous parts.

  “Alex should be on his way to Huntly now,” Finn said.

  “You’re a good man to save his life,” she said.

  “I gave my word I’d look out for him.”

  Finn would have rescued Alex even if he had not given his oath, just as he had rescued her.

  “I have something to confess,” she said. “I overheard Gilbert tell ye that Robin Sutherland was your real father.”

  A sudden wariness came into Finn’s eyes.

  “What will ye do?” she asked. “Will ye claim your rightful place?”

  Fear tightened her belly as she waited to hear her future.

  “I’m sorry, mo rùin, but I can’t claim the earldom,” Finn said. “That would cause a war between the Sutherlands and the Gordons, when we must fight together to push the Sinclairs out of our lands.”

  Relief flooded through her, until she noticed how wretched Finn looked.

  “Besides, I couldn’t take it from Alex,” he said. “I can’t do it, even for you.”

  “I should have known ye wouldn’t sacrifice Alex, even though ye have the right to,” she said, tears running down her face. “If I didn’t already love ye, I would love ye for this.”

  “What?” Finn’s eyes went wide. “Ye don’t want me to claim it?”

  “If I’d wanted to marry an earl,” she said, “I would have stayed with my brothers.”

  Finn did not look persuaded.

  “If you were an earl, ye couldn’t avoid being drawn into the dangerous games and changing alliances of Scotland’s most powerful nobles,” she said. “You’d be expected to attend court and participate on the council, and we’d have other important nobles coming to visit. I don’t want my brothers to find me and try to use us both, as they would be sure to do.”

  “I wouldn’t let them,” he said.

  Finn had not lived in those circles as she had. No matter how he tried, he would be forced to choose sides. There was no neutral ground, just shifting sands among the most powerful nobles.

  “Garty is a small property with a modest tower house.” He brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You were meant to be a countess and live in a great castle with a hundred servants and dozens of jewels and fine gowns.”

  “I don’t need any of those things,” she said. “What makes a home is love, and that’s all I ever wanted.”

  Beneath his charm, Finn carried wounds from never feeling that he truly belonged. Though he had hidden it from himself for years, he longed for family and home as much as she did. He still did not believe he was worthy of love, but she would show him he was.

  They would build a life together for themselves and their children and make a home that would be a sanctuary for them all.

  “Marry me,” she said, and kissed him. “Marry me, Finn.”

  ###

  Finn could not believe his good fortune and smiled at Margaret while they ate a late breakfast. When he caught Ella feeding the dog—whom she and Una named Cù-sìthe, fairy dog—under the table, he winked at her. His heart felt so full. He never expected to be this happy.

  He looked up as a man in priest’s robes burst into the hall.

  “The Sinclairs have set fire to the town of Dornoch,” the priest said. “The godless heathens even burned the cathedral.”

  The priest was shaking, and his face was charred with smoke.

  “Sit down, father,” Margaret said, taking his arm and helping him into a chair. Then she poured him a cup of whisky.

  “Bless ye, lass,” he said, and drank it down.

  “Why attack Dornoch?” Finn asked. “Alex must be gone from there by now.”

  “The Sinclairs want revenge against the Murrays for helping Alex escape,” the priest said. “When they chased them into Dornoch, the Murrays took refuge in the cathedral and the bishop’s castle, thinking they’d be safe there.”

  The Sinclairs would risk excommunication attacking a cathedral and a bishop’s residence.

  “I fear the situation is dire,” the priest said. “A few of the Murrays are holed up in the cathedral’s tower. Lachlan and most of the others are trapped in the castle, which isn’t stocked for a siege, as the bishop is gone and no one expected his home to be attacked.”

  The Sinclairs were exacting punishment on the Murrays for rescuing Alex.

  “Who led the attack for the Sinclairs?” Finn asked.

  “Their chieftain’s eldest son John, Master of Caithness,” the priest said. “He’s a ruthless son of a bitch.”

  “He’s not the worst of them,” Finn said. “He may be willing to negotiate.”

  “That’s why I’ve come,” the priest said. “He says he’ll parley with no one but you, Finn. If you’re not there at noon on the morrow, he says he’ll breach the walls and spare not a one.”

  “Why me?” Finn asked, though he suspected he knew.

  “He says ye were the peddler responsible for Alex Òg’s escape.”

  John Sinclair wanted Finn for more than the parley. The parley, the chance to avoid a bloody massacre of the Murrays, was the bait John knew would draw Finn out.

  “He says if you don’t come to him, he’ll attack Helmsdale next.”

  The threat to Helmsdale was John turning the screw. Finn had no choice.

  An hour ago, Finn saw a future beyond his dreams, a life with his beloved Margaret as his wife. He had allowed himself to imagine growing old with her and watching Ella and perhaps more children of their own grow up.

  Tomorrow he would ride to Dornoch not knowing if he would return. Finn could not put his own happiness or even Margaret’s above the lives of so many good men. The best he could do now for Margaret and Ella was to make certain they had a home on lands of their own, a haven where they would be safe.

  “I’ll go back with ye in the morning,” Finn told the priest, then drew him aside. “But I need ye to do something for me tonight.”

  “What was it ye asked the priest to do?” Margaret asked after he brought her back upstairs to speak with her alone.

  “I want us to wed tonight,” he said, taking Margaret’s hands. “We’ll say our vows with the entire household as witnesses, have the priest bless our marriage, and celebrate with a feast.”

  Once the priest blessed their marriage, they were bound in the eyes of the church, and before so many witnesses, neither his relatives nor hers could challenge its validity.

  “Ye expect a wedding feast with only a few hours to prepare?” she asked with a wide smile. “Surely we can wait until ye return.”

  “After all that’s happened, we know how precious time is,” he said. “I don’t want to let another day go by without you being my wife.”

  “How dangerous i
s it for you to meet with the Sinclair chieftain’s son?” she asked, drawing her brows together. “I thought this was just a parley.”

  Finn should have left out the part about time being precious. He hated to lie to her, but he wanted her to be happy at their wedding.

  “Ach, ’tis just talking we’ll do. I’ll be fine,” Finn said, giving her a smile and a wink. “But it would please me to know I have a wife and daughter waiting for me. I want the three of us to be a family now.”

  CHAPTER 33

  Margaret expected grumbling from the servants over being given so little time to prepare a feast, especially for a marriage they believed had already taken place. But it turned out that the prospect of a wedding feast was a welcome respite from the dark cloud that had hung over Helmsdale since the tragedies struck.

  The entire household embraced the idea of a wedding celebration and threw themselves into a frenzy of preparation. Men set up tables and carried wine and ale up from the undercroft, women helped in the kitchen, and children ran outside to gather flowers.

  Laughing, the women pushed Margaret out of the kitchen.

  “But there’s so much to do,” she objected.

  “And all our hard work will be for naught if the bride isn’t ready,” Una said. “A hot bath is waiting for ye. And Ella could use a washing as well before the wedding.”

  Margaret gave in after she looked at Ella, who had stuck both hands in the pan of pudding that was cooling on the worktable and gotten more in her hair and on her face than in her mouth. Margaret sighed. At least pudding was easy to wash off.

  After she and Ella had bathed, Margaret dressed Ella in a gown she had made and tied a ribbon in her hair. One of the gowns Helen had given her was too fine for every day, so she had never worn it. She ran her hand over it, thinking of Helen’s kindness. It would serve well for her wedding gown.

  “’Tis as if Lady Helen knew,” Una said as she fastened the back. “The color blue is a lucky color for a bride, and the gown fits perfectly, another sign of good fortune.”

  One of the children brought sprigs of white heather for Margaret’s hair, another symbol of good luck. Hope bubbled up inside her as she pinned the heather in her hair. Unlike her first one, this marriage would be a happy one.

  If she had not suffered through that marriage, and if Wretched William had never thrown her out, she would not be here today, marrying the man she loved. The man she was always meant to be with.

  Una held the looking glass up for Margaret to see herself. Her eyes sparkled with happiness. When she turned to smile at Ella, her daughter was watching her with big eyes. Though Margaret had worn gorgeous gowns countless times, her daughter had never seen her dressed like this.

  “I want to be pretty too,” Ella said.

  “You are pretty.” Margaret leaned down and stuck a sprig of the white heather in Ella’s hair. “More than that, you’re clever and kind and brave. You’re the daughter I always wanted.”

  Someone pounded on the door, followed by giggles and a shout: “Everyone’s waiting for the bride!”

  Margaret touched the onyx brooch pinned to her bodice and closed her eyes for just a moment, wishing her sisters and cousin Lizzie could be here to see how happy she was. Then she took her daughter’s hand and practically skipped out the door.

  Her heart squeezed in her chest when she saw Finn. He was so darkly handsome in his plaid, and his eyes went soft when he saw her. Since everyone thought they were already handfasted, they could have made their pledges to each other in private and only received the priest’s blessing before the witnesses here in the hall. When Finn wrapped the symbolic strip of linen around their hands, pressed palm to palm, and made his pledge, she knew he was right to insist they do it this way.

  She wanted to shout that, against all odds, they had found each other. They took a lie and made it their truth. Transformed a kidnap and escape into redemption and refuge. Exchanged fear and mistrust for hope and love.

  When she made her own pledge, she said her full name, Margaret Elizabeth Douglas, softly so that only she and Finn could hear it.

  Ella was with Una at the front of the people that surrounded them.

  “Come,” Finn said, holding his arms out to her.

  When Ella ran to him, he picked her up, kissed her on the cheek, and then lifted her up high for everyone in the hall to see.

  “I claim this child as my own and give her my name,” Finn said in a voice that filled the room.

  Margaret had not thought it possible Finn could make her any happier, but now he had. Tears of joy filled her eyes. While she knew Finn loved Ella, Margaret had not expected he would formally claim her. When a Highlander claimed a child, that child had the same status and rights as any he sired within a marriage. Ella would not grow up as his stepchild from an unknown clan, never fully belonging.

  “As my only child,” Finn continued, “this wee lass, my daughter Ella, is my heir unless and until my wife blesses me with a son.”

  A shiver of fear went through Margaret. She understood now why Finn insisted their marriage take place this very day, why he made sure a priest blessed it, why he publicly claimed Ella—and for good measure, named Ella as his heir. It was this last, seemingly unnecessary proclamation that gave him away. As his wife, Margaret could not inherit Garty.

  But his child could.

  Finn had just ensured that Margaret and Ella would have a home if he should not return. She hid her worry, as she had so many times, and cheered with the rest.

  ###

  Finn carried his wife over the threshold of their bedchamber and kicked the door shut, muffling the noise of the revelers still celebrating in the hall. When he set her on her feet, Margaret looked up at him with soft brown eyes and held his face between her hands.

  “I love you, husband,” she said. “I always will.”

  Finn swallowed against the surge of emotion clogging his throat. Plenty of women had enjoyed his company for a laugh and a good swiving, but he never expected to be wanted for more. Never expected to be loved. And to be loved by this sweet lass who held his heart in her hands was a blessing beyond measure. He did not deserve Margaret’s love, but she gave it to him anyway.

  “I can’t believe you’re truly my wife,” he said. “You’ve made me a happy man.”

  As he had on the first night they shared a bed, he combed her hair, letting the long, bright strands glide through his fingers. He almost wept when he undressed her and saw all her scratches and bruises from the fall.

  When her hair turned white and her face was lined, she would still be beautiful, for her true beauty came from inside. He prayed he would have the chance to grow old with her. But if he did not, he would count himself a lucky man, for he had been loved by this sweet lass, his Maggie.

  He made love to her slowly, careful of her injuries. Over and over, he told her how much he loved her and tried to show her with his every touch how precious she was to him.

  When she drifted off to sleep in his arms, a soft smile curving her lips, he left the candle burning until it was gone just so he could watch her. He stayed awake, savoring these last brief hours with his wife in his arms. Careful not to wake her, he ran his fingers through her hair and breathed in her scent. He did not think it possible he could fall more deeply in love with her, but his very heart beat for this lass.

  His love, his wife.

  In the morning, he made love to her one last time, trying not to let her see the desperation he felt at having to leave her. But he had to go. The lives of the men trapped in Dornoch, good men who had helped rescue Alex, depended on him.

  They ate breakfast with Ella, but he could not delay his departure any longer. The priest was already mounted and waiting at the gate.

  “Lachlan will be home soon,” he told Una, who had come out into the courtyard with Margaret and Ella to see him off.

  He lifted Ella up and tossed her into the air to hear her laugh, then he kissed her cheek and set her down. Finally, he en
veloped Margaret in his arms and held her close. After one last kiss, he leaned back to drink in her lovely face once more.

  “Time for me to go, a chuisle mo chroí,” pulse of my heart. “With luck, I’ll be back by nightfall.”

  “I need ye to come back,” Margaret said, her voice quavering, “so see that ye do.”

  He would be lost without her, but he was confident that if he did not return, Margaret would persevere through her sadness and loss. Her gentle nature and graceful form hid a strength that would carry her through.

  Garty held none of the bad memories for her that it did for him. She would have her independence and, in time, could have a happy life there with Ella. Word might eventually reach her brothers, but the Gordons would watch over her. Alex would make certain they did.

  CHAPTER 34

  Smoke hung over the town and burned Finn’s throat as he rode with the priest through the smoldering remains of the burned houses. Sinclair warriors surrounded the castle and the burned-out cathedral, which stood a few yards apart in the center of the town.

  “A few of the Murrays are caught up there,” the priest reminded him, pointing at the cathedral’s tower, which was all that remained of the church.

  As he came to a halt in front of the mass of armed warriors in front of the castle, Finn looked up and saw Lachlan among the Murrays peering down from the parapet.

  “If this doesn’t go well, take Ceò to my wife,” Finn told the priest before he dismounted. Then he patted Ceò’s shoulder and walked toward the mass of armed warriors.

  John, Master of Caithness, expected him, so the Sinclairs parted to let Finn through without a word. John stood waiting, his armor and face smudged with soot, in a small clearing at the center of his men. Behind him, two pews that must have been dragged out of the ruined cathedral were arranged face to face in the open air.

  When John gestured toward one of the pews, Finn sat and stretched out his legs. Finn caught sight of the MacKay chieftain, Barbara’s lover and close ally of the Sinclairs, standing nearby with a group of his warriors. He was not surprised that MacKay had joined in the attack, but he was relieved when John did not invite MacKay to join them.