With This Kiss: A First-In Series Romance Collection

by Kerrigan Byrne

  "Gav! Watch out!" Adam's cry made Gavin grab Rachel, fling her down just as a shot split the air. He rolled over, then turned to see Sir Dunstan Wells, knighted for bravery, scourge of Culloden Moor, holding a smoking pistol in his hand.

  Adam brought his own weapon to bear. "I'll kill you, you son of a bitch!"

  "No!" Gavin grasped the pistol barrel, pushed it down. He didn't say a word, just pointed across the chasm where Dunstan's troops stood, silent.

  Gavin could feel the revulsion shuddering through them, the cold, sudden shame.

  They had just watched their commander attempt to shoot a man in the back, a man who had offered mercy when Dunstan Wells was at the point of his sword. Dunstan Wells had struck himself a deathblow far more devastating than Gavin could have.

  The knight scrambled backward, shouting at his troops across the chasm. "Shoot them! Fire!"

  Gavin grabbed Rachel's hand, started to bolt toward where the unknown man stood, holding the reins of three horses. But he'd barely taken three steps before the first shot rang out.

  "Gavin, look." Adam stood, in full line of fire, staring back across the silvery length of the chasm.

  Gavin hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at Adam's bidding. What he saw made him stop and turn to face the sea of soldiers across the looming divide. One by one, the soldiers were firing their weapons, not at Gavin, but at the untouchable rim of the moon.

  It was a tribute—one that made Gavin's chest ache.

  They were his enemies, men who had been whipped into a ravening frenzy under the lash of Wells’ hate. He could only pray that after what they had just witnessed, their thirst for blood would wane. Was it possible to already see that inner sickness fading? That sense of reason returning after madness? Was it possible that these fighting men would spend the rest of forever regretting what they had done? If they did, it was possible that the madness would end.

  But Gavin knew with a sinking in his heart that he wouldn't be there to see it. There would be no more wild rides over the Scottish moors, no more bold schemes, no more children plucked from the flames by the Glen Lyon.

  Gavin mounted his stallion as the Glen Lyon for the last time and lifted Rachel into his arms. Only one challenge remained. Could they reach the coast, the final ship that was to sail, before it was too late? Could they capture one last chance at freedom?

  A hundred more soldiers, as thirsty as Wells for the Glen Lyon’s blood, still waited in the darkness, hunting,

  The Glen Lyon turned his back on the ruin that was Dunstan Wells, and spurred his horse into the night.

  Chapter Twenty

  They had ridden without stopping, a wild race against time, keeping to the labyrinth of paths that Glen Lyon's band had used to escape the hunting soldiers a thousand times before.

  Time was running out. Gavin could feel it with each shift of the sun across his wind-burned face, sense it with each thud of the horses' hooves against the ground.

  He'd left strict orders that the ship was to wait for no one and sail without him. It was too crucial to the safety of the children and Mama Fee that the vessel leave with the tide.

  What a bitter irony that would be if he'd snatched Rachel from the jaws of British justice, escaped the gallows himself, and managed to lose half the army on a moon-swept bridge, only to be stranded at the coastline by his own command.

  Even the triumph over Dunstan Wells paled at the bleak prospect that they would be left behind. If that happened, Gavin would be hunted with a renewed fervor. But even more terrifying was the knowledge that Rachel would be hunted as well.

  Cumberland would retaliate with a savagery that would make Wells' onslaught seem like the bumbling of a schoolyard bully.

  Gavin shoved the thought away, and urged Manslayer to greater lengths. His aching arms tightened instinctively around Rachel. She curled into him, cradled against his chest, silent, uncomplaining, so trusting it broke his heart.

  Even if the ship were a hundred leagues away by now, he would find some way to get her to safety. Yet could he stand the agony of knowing Rachel was in danger the countless weeks it would take to hatch some other plan to spirit her away from Scotland?

  No, he had to reach the ship. There was still the tiniest chance that they might reach it.

  The salt tang of the sea stung his nostrils, and he drank it in, praying once again to God.

  "Do you think they're still there?" Adam called out from his mount.

  "I told them to sail," Gavin said hopelessly. Yet as the four horses carried their riders to the crest of the rise, Gavin's heart caught in his throat, disbelief and exhausting relief bursting inside him.

  The inlet near Lochavrea spilled out below them, tucked beneath a sheer fall of cliff. A sheep path wound down to a narrow crescent of sandy shore that was all but invisible from above until one reached the very brink of the cliff. Gavin guided Manslayer to the stone edge and peered down at the ship that lay anchored below.

  They had reached the ship in time. It was one more miracle to be grateful for. Gavin wondered if it wasn't a sign that fate was appeased, that his debt was paid, that he had earned the right to begin again. His throat tightened as he watched the children race about, the boys flinging seaweed at each other, the girls gathering pretty shells. The Highlanders strained to load a small dinghy with the few boxes and belongings that had been tucked in the Glen Lyon's cave. The first trunk being taken aboard was his own box of treasures, his manuscripts, illuminations, and the portrait of his family tucked inside atop the tattered remnants of the robes that had once graced a defiant beauty garbed as Helen of Troy.

  Only Mama Fee sat on an outcropping of stone, staring back at the land, her eyes still searching, forever searching for something she was loath to leave behind. The son who would never come home? Gavin wondered. Or the two brothers she'd ordered about, scolded, bullied, and loved the past year?

  As Gavin dismounted, he vowed that he would fill the empty place in her motherly heart as best as he was able. She would have a place in whatever home he carved out for Rachel, be mother to Barna and the other orphans and grandmother to the babies he and Rachel would create one day. He loved the valiant, fragile Scotswoman even more dearly than he had the woman who had given birth to him.

  "I'll be damned," Adam said, amazed, swinging down from his own mount. "We made it before they sailed! I bloody well can't believe we got here in one piece. But that at least settles one thing."

  "Settles what?" Gavin asked.

  "Since you haven't gotten your worthless head blown off during all this madness, I get the pleasure of murdering you myself!"

  "Adam—"

  "Don't even try making excuses, because I'll shove them down your blasted throat with my fist! I should knock you senseless, after the rotten trick you played me. When we were planting explosives on the bridge, the only question I was debating was whether to wait until you were across the bridge to blow it up, or light the fuse when you were in the middle of it."

  "I still don't understand." Rachel peered at Gavin, confused. "Where are the troops? The soldiers? Dunstan said the children—Mama Fee—were walking into a trap. Adam had gone to warn them."

  Gavin chuckled as he lowered her to the ground then dismounted himself.

  "That's right. Laugh, you blockhead. You're so bloody clever, aren't you?" Adam's scowling gaze flicked from Gavin to Rachel. "I was near killing myself riding to Cairnleven when I met Sir Tristan here," Adam explained in a long-suffering tone, pointing to the masked figure that was reining in beside them.

  “Sir Tristan?” Rachel murmured in confusion as Adam plunged on.

  "He informed me that I was going in the wrong direction."

  "That may be." Gavin couldn't stifle a grin. "But I bet you were riding damn fast, Adam."

  Fists on hips, Adam confronted him, dark eyes blazing. "The ship was never going to land at Cairnleven, was it, brother? You knew that even before we abducted your lady here. Quite a scheme you and our friend Nate brewe
d up."

  "Nate?” Gavin heard Rachel's echo. She turned to stare as the man wearing the mask slipped it from his face. A wayward lock of dark hair tumbled across the man's brow and he shot Rachel a sheepish grin.

  "Hullo, Rachel."

  "Nate—Rowland?"

  "He's secretly helped us for almost two years now," Gavin explained.

  “Old habits die hard,” Adam grumbled. “Nate was always hauling Gav out of trouble when we studied at Monsieur du Pree’s Salle d’Armes. A knight’s duty, wasn’t it? To keep King Arthur out of trouble?”

  “I don’t understand,” Rachel said.

  "We studied swordsmanship together when we were young,” Nate explained. “Our teacher named five of us after Knights of the Roundtable. We were inseparable until…”

  “Life pulled us in different directions,” Gavin said, his smile filled with regret. “On one of my first attempts at rescuing fugitives, my path crossed with Nate’s again. I was bungling things badly. We'd taken a wrong turn and gotten trapped in a walled courtyard with no hope of escape. Imagine my shock when a door suddenly opened and there Nate stood. He knew we were Jacobites, that the soldiers were hunting us. He hid us."

  Rachel flashed a befuddled glance at Rowland. "But Nate, you could have been executed for aiding the enemy. You lost your leg fighting the Jacobites. "

  "That was war." Nate's eyes darkened, and Gavin could see the ghosts that stalked Rowland in the night. "What happened at Culloden Moor and after was slaughter. Not all soldiers are like Wells, Rachel. There are plenty of men—fighting men—who take no joy in killing, soldiers who are willing to give their lives for what they believe in. And after the battle is done, are equally willing to fight to heal the scars war left behind."

  Gavin reached out, clasping Nate's shoulder with one hand. He hoped Rowland could feel empathy in the barren places that parched Nate's soul. "Nate has gotten us supplies we needed, made business deals we never could have, and helped with other secret arrangements. He's sheltered any stray Jacobites he stumbled across, and smuggled them to us so we could send them to safety. We'd never have survived without him."

  Rachel gaped at Rowland. "Then you—you took me out into that garden on purpose! You knew they were going to kidnap me that night at the ball?"

  "He was the one who suggested using you," Adam said, grousing. "Of course, he didn't bother to warn me that you'd fight like a blasted she-cat, and be piles of trouble in the bargain."

  "Or that she'd been shooting a pistol since she was eight-years-old," Gavin added with a chuckle.

  "I knew they would never hurt you, Rachel," Nate explained, his cheek dark, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "We had to come up with a diversion to distract Wells. He'd bottled up the coast so tight a boy's paper boat would've had a hard time getting through. Besides, I hoped that if I got you away from Sir Dunstan, maybe you'd see that he wasn't the man you thought he was. I've made a mess of my own life. I could see that you were heading for the same sort of disaster. I wanted something better for you."

  Gavin had never been prouder of his lady than when she stood on tiptoe and kissed Nate on the cheek. "How can I even begin to thank you?"

  "Be happy."

  "I will be. Gloriously happy." She cast Gavin a smile, her cheeks flushing, and Gavin vowed in his heart that he'd give her all the joy she could hold. "But wait!" she protested suddenly. "Even if you did plan my abduction, there are things that still don't make sense. Gavin, you took me hostage to force Dunstan to allow the ship to land at Cairnleven. But you never planned to have the ship land there at all?"

  Gavin felt a jab of crystalline satisfaction so pure and sweet, he grinned. "Let's just say I understand the way Wells’ mind works. I knew he'd attempt an ambush, do all in his power to kill everyone on the ship. He was hungry for a glorious triumph. He needed one badly, what with the pressure his superiors were placing on him. All I had to do was to bait a trap for him, convince him that if he put all his forces in one place, he could capture us all at Cairnleven."

  Understanding dawned in Rachel's features. "What better way to convince him you were leaving from that port than to hold me hostage, to threaten to kill me if he didn't leave that inlet open."

  "Exactly."

  "Brilliant. That was brilliant," Rachel said in awe.

  "Don't tell him that!" Adam groaned. "His head is swelled enough already. This time he was so damn brilliant he didn't bother telling me about the plan. Obviously, he was so bloody pleased with it he had to keep it to himself. Or did you guess you'd be captured by Wells and need some leverage to get me to abandon you?"

  "Even I'm not that brilliant," Gavin said. "The fewer people who knew about the plan, the less likely Wells would discover the deception. Besides, can you imagine how you'd have snarled if you knew that I was making you go to all the trouble of abducting Rachel when I knew using a hostage against Wells was futile?"

  "Damnation, I—well, blast it, you still should have—" Adam crossed his arms over his chest and glared. "I don't snarl!" The words came out in a growl that would have sent a bear diving for cover.

  "It all turned out for the best in the end, didn't it?" Nate observed. "Everyone will sail free, Dunstan will never hold rank again, and you—Rachel, I found you your hero, didn't I?" Rowland's voice was wistful, and Gavin's heart twisted at the knowledge that Nathaniel Rowland had given Rachel and him a life together, a future, while his own marriage was shattering.

  Gavin sought to drive the shadows from his friend's eyes. "Perhaps you can be in charge of romance, Rowland, but what the devil were you doing at that bridge?"

  "That's easy enough to explain," Adam said. "We were going to charge in and snatch you from the gallows in the morning, then blast the bridge once when we got you across it. Of course, Nate had to play expert, work up some intricate powder-keg bomb. I suggested we just steal a cannon and blast the bloody hell out of the thing."

  Gavin gaped. "Of all the thick-skulled, idiotic, brainless schemes I've ever heard! Rachel, now do you know why I'm the brains of this outfit? I'm gone three days and they're having delusions of grandeur! Do you have any idea how tricky the timing would be, lighting off the fuse at the right time so you didn't blow yourselves to kingdom come? And you think the number of soldiers after us last night was daunting! You know how many soldiers would be after you if you sauntered in to ruin their hanging?"

  "Nag, nag, nag," Adam said, flashing a grin. "See what I told you, Nate—this love nonsense is turning the Glen Lyon soft."

  Rowland grinned, but his eyes revealed untold pain. "He's deserves his happiness. All of it. And, if it's in my power, I swear I'll see you back on your estates again, Gavin. My father is a man of no small influence in Parliament, and the instant this madness eases, he'll use it to gain you full pardon."

  Gavin reached out, took Nate’s hand. "Then we won't say good-bye, my friend. You're one of the finest men I've ever known. I don't know how we would have managed to accomplish all we did without your help."

  "You would have found a way."

  "Watch your back," Gavin said. "If you ever need help, send word. I'll sail on the next ship to aid you."

  There was a fatal recklessness in Nate's eyes Gavin recognized all too well. "I'm beyond help. You, above all, should know that." The jest fell, hollow.

  Nate grasped the saddle, and he hauled himself onto the horse, slipping what remained of his injured leg into a leather harness meant to help balance him. He turned to the thin man who still hung back, stoic, silent. "They'll take care of you from here. You'll be away from Scotland with the tides. Make a new life for yourself."

  The youth looked away, bleak. "There's nothing left for me here. No one."

  Nate nodded in stark understanding, then turned back to Gavin, raised his hand in salute.

  Gavin watched him ride away into the countryside, until he disappeared.

  At that instant, Gavin heard a whoop from below and realized that those on the beach had just seen them. He waved to
the ecstatic crew below, the capering children, the cheering Highlanders, and the woman who stared in silent joy, her face framed by a silver-white halo of hair.

  Gavin turned to the stranger. "Now, friend, if you'll join us on the ship, we can get to know you better. But you'll have to tell me your name if I'm to introduce you to the others."

  "My name? It's—"

  "Timothy!" The sudden shriek froze Gavin's blood.

  He turned to see Mama Fee racing up the narrow sheep path that wound up the cliff face, her feet flying, light as a girl's, her hair streaming back from a tear-streaked face.

  "Mammy?” The stranger slid off his horse, and staggered a few steps toward the old woman, staring as if she'd just dropped from the heavens. "Mammy, I thought you were dead! I saw the house, all the graves. I thought . . ."

  Fiona flung herself into the arms of her son, sobbing, her hands tracing his face, smoothing his hair, as she kissed his cheek again and again.

  "I knew that you would come back to me! I knew it!" She turned to Gavin, Rachel, and Adam, the three of them gaping at her.

  "This is my Timothy! You found him for me!"

  "No. I . . . Nate just . . .“ Gavin stammered. "I can't believe this!"

  "Can't believe my Timothy is alive?" Mama Fee demanded. "Who did you think I set out that plate for every meal? Did you think I was just a daft old woman?"

  Gavin's cheeks burned. "I . . . well, we . . ."

  "You did think I was daft!" Mama Fee accused. "Humoring an old woman, were you? But I knew that if my Timothy were dead, I would feel it, here." She struck her heart with her hand. She turned to Rachel, tear-bright eyes shining. "Wouldn't you know if your Gavin had died?"

  Rachel stepped forward, holding out her small hand. "Welcome home, Timothy. Your mother has been waiting for you a very long time."

  Mama Fee touched her boy's face, his cheeks, his hair. "Timmy, there is something I must tell you. I hope you're not horrible angry. You see, I gave the wedding gown away."