Wicked Highland Heroes

by Tarah Scott

  “You think—so this is what you mean by saying I would understand how his mother felt? Just because

  Lily was untrue—”

  “Nay.” Maude straightened from her restful position and wagged a finger at Victoria. “She was my friend, and I will not have you say she was unfaithful.”

  Victoria angled her head. “Yet you have no compunctions about believing I would lie?”

  Maude shook her head. “You misunderstand, Lily did not lie, nor was she unfaithful. She was betrothed to Iain’s father, but ’twas not Eric she loved, but Liam

  Fraser.”

  “Fraser?”

  “Aye. He leads the Fraser clan. He is the man Iain will deal with concerning the men who…well, you know.”

  Victoria stared. Sweet God in heaven. What sort of lunatics had she fallen in with? “You say Lily loved

  Liam. Why, then, did she not marry him?”

  Maude’s clear green eyes darkened. “Because, that bloody bastard Eric forced her to honor their betrothal, then never forgave her for loving another man.”

  Victoria gaped. “Lord MacPherson’s mother was kidnapped by another man, yet his father forced her to marry him?”

  Maude blinked, then said, “There is no likeness between that situation and this one. Iain is a different man. Eric’s lust for vengeance fueled the hatred between us and the Frasers. Three bloody decades it lasted.” She shook her head. “But Iain, well…making peace was not easy, even for the mighty Clan Chatten.

  No one knows that better than Iain.” “Clan Chatten?” Victoria repeated.

  “Aye, The MacPherson clan is one of three clans that form the confederation known as Clan Chatten. Well, they and their close relatives.” She winked. “Highlanders tend to have a lot of relatives, but ’tis the Chatten we depend on. Many’s the time they lent a welcome hand in dealing with the Frasers.”

  “If Liam Fraser is so terrible, how was it possible to make peace with him?”

  Maude’s face softened. “I do not think it was any easier for him than for Iain. He loved Lily. Still, it was no easy task for Iain to break through the barrier the feud created.”

  “The will to see no more of his kinsmen lying dead in the dirt,” Rachel added.

  Everyone nodded in agreement.

  “So you see,” Maude went on, “you have a good man in Iain MacPherson.”

  “I have—he is not my man!” Victoria whirled toward the sanctuary of her cottage, but halted and turned to face the women. “Who says they saw him leaving my cottage?”

  Maude shifted uncomfortably, and Victoria read in the housekeeper’s eyes that it was she who had spread the lie.

  * * *

  Victoria caught sight of Thomas as he emerged from the stairway leading down from the front wall and crossed the courtyard toward him. When they met at the well, Thomas flashed a smile.

  “Good afternoon, my lady. What brings you out into the afternoon heat?”

  Victoria glanced at the midday sun. “It is not so hot.”

  “Mid-August. The warmest time of the year.”

  “I do not envy your winters.” Victoria shivered at the thought of Fauldun Castle covered in snow.

  “How do you stay warm?”

  Thomas glanced at her, a strange look on his face. “Iain will teach you soon enough.”

  Victoria ignored the warmth that rippled through her cheeks. “When will he return?” she asked.

  Thomas’s eyes danced. “You need not worry, chérie. Your lord will return soon enough.”

  She lifted a calculated brow. “You assume too much, sir. ’Tis not personal concern that prompts my question.” She turned her gaze ahead. “You know

  Father Brennan is here?”

  “Indeed.”

  “You rule in your lord’s absence, do you not?”

  “Aye.”

  “I mean to return to Montrose Abbey. Father

  Brennan will take me.”

  “Most kind of him.”

  “He came with two monks, for protection, you understand, on the ride home.” Victoria managed to keep a level tone despite the desire to pummel him when she glimpsed the smile hovering on the edge of his mouth. “Though he says no one would dare accost a priest. It is unheard of. Still—”

  “I cannot allow it,” Thomas interrupted. “If safety is an issue, send more men with us.” “Ah,” was his only response.

  “The sun is well advanced in the sky.” Victoria looked up, confirming the obvious. “It would be unwise to begin a journey at this late hour. We can leave by first light.”

  With an effected sigh, Thomas took her hand and laid her fingers in the crook of his arm, then started toward the castle. “I had no idea you wished me dead.”

  Victoria gasped. “What can you mean? I have no wish to see anyone dead, not—not even him.”

  “Yet you ask me to release you, which would mean my death.”

  * * *

  Victoria kept her gaze on Thomas, who sat behind Iain’s desk. He smiled in response to her request to return home. She hadn’t believed he would grant her freedom. Father Brennan, however…fool that she was, she had expected help from him.

  She forced back rising panic and said to Thomas,

  “You have no right to keep me.”

  “I do not have the power to release you.”

  “You have a great deal of power, my lord. You told me yourself, you rule while Lord MacPherson is away.”

  “Aye. But the master will return, and if he finds his most treasured possession missing, this lowly servant would receive no compassion.”

  “Possession?” Her heart jumped to a gallop. “I have no use for being a possession. Perhaps it would suit you?”

  “Forgive me, my lady.” Thomas bowed his head. “You must know I meant to say the laird protects that which he considers sacred.”

  “Oh, aye. I understand.” She shifted her attention to Father Brennan. “You said I had the right to choose. I choose to leave.”

  “I cannot take you from Fauldun Castle while Iain is away. Thomas is right. Iain would have no mercy with regards to such a transgression. ’Tis understandable.”

  Victoria kept her gaze locked with his. “For a man.”

  Father Brennan nodded. “Aye, a man, especially one in Iain’s position, cannot allow such a challenge to go unanswered.”

  “I see.” She rose and cursed the tremble in her legs. “This talk of possessions and challenges gives me much to consider.” Victoria commanded her legs to remain steady as she crossed to the door. She didn’t look back as she left the room and pulled the door softly closed behind her.

  * * *

  Victoria made a grab for the portfolio on the uppermost shelf in the library and almost tumbled from where she balanced with one foot on the lower bookshelf. She reached again, but jerked her head around at the sound of voices in the corridor. Sweet Jesu, were they headed for the library?

  The voices drew nearer. She dropped back onto the carpet and scanned the room for a hiding place. The sideboard was too short. Her gaze then fell on the large cabinet in the corner of the room. She grabbed the candle sitting on the desk and hurried to the wardrobe. Victoria flattened herself against the wall and squeezed between the stone and the cabinet. She was forced to draw in her stomach in order to squeeze past and just barely fit.

  She blew out the candle, then froze in the darkness. Sweet Jesu, her captors were likely to think less of her being in the library than hiding behind the cabinet. She groaned. Why hadn’t she come during the day to search for the plans that outlined the castle’s layout?

  “That is your reward for impatience,” she muttered.

  Victoria felt for the edge, intending to slip from behind the cabinet, but jerked her hand back at hearing the door open. She plastered herself against the wall and held her breath.

  “I will light a candle from the sconce in the hallway,” Thomas said. A moment later, light filtered from around the cabinet.

  “Sit, Father,”
Thomas said. “A drink?” “Aye,” Father Brennan replied.

  The tinkle of glass, then liquid being poured into the tumblers followed.

  “We ought not to have meddled,” Father Brennan said.

  “You call it meddling, Father?”

  “You are very much like your cousin,” the priest said in a cross voice.

  “Iain had not been to Montrose Abbey in some time. He was unlikely to have seen her had I not sent

  him there on that ruse.”

  Victoria’s heart skipped a beat.

  “Why did we interfere?” Father Brennan fussed.

  “I suppose for the same reason he kidnapped her.” Thomas laughed. “Mon Dieu, but I was sure he

  read the truth on my face that first night.”

  Father Brennan grunted. “You think you were surprised? You should have been there. Nearly sent me to my grave. I still cannot believe he did it.” There was a pause, then Father Brennan added, “’Tis not like him. I thought he would woo the lass. Leave it to MacPherson to go against the natural order of things.

  What in God’s name possessed him?”

  “We both thought she was a fine mate for him,”

  Thomas said. “Seems he agreed.”

  Victoria became aware she was shaking. How had Thomas concocted the scheme that resulted in her being kidnapped by Iain MacPherson? She and Thomas had not yet met. She recalled that first day at Fauldun Castle, when it seemed she heard her name. No wonder the scoundrel had been so sure he could guess her name.

  “What are we to do about it?” Father Brennan’s voice jerked Victoria from her thoughts.

  “Do?” Thomas replied. “What can we do? It is out of our hands. Mayhap God prompted Iain.”

  “More likely, He is punishing us for sticking our noses where they do not belong.”

  “The moment I saw her,” Thomas said, “I knew they must meet.”

  “You and your premonitions,” Father Brennan grumbled. “You know just enough to make you dangerous.”

  Thomas laughed. “That, I cannot disagree with.”

  “I am no better,” the priest went on as if not hearing him. “I cared for nothing but the fact that it was past time he married.”

  “Perhaps,” Thomas replied, “but you also thought she would do well for him.”

  “That will teach me to think. How are things otherwise at Fauldun Castle?”

  The conversation turned to mundane matters. When an hour passed, Victoria grew concerned the men intended to spend the night in the library.

  “You have no idea when Iain will return?” Father Brennan said.

  “He sent word he was delayed with Fraser.”

  “Any trouble?”

  Victoria’s pulse accelerated.

  “He did not say what the delay was, but had it been trouble, he would have said.”

  “Aye, then,” Father Brennan said. “I will not wait for him.”

  “You do not wish to spend some time with the lady?” The laughter in Thomas’ voice incited her fury all the more.

  “She has made confession. Nothing else is needed.”

  “Perhaps if you stay, she will be able to plead her case further?”

  “You would have me suffer for my sins, eh, lad? I have a long trip back to Montrose Abbey tomorrow. It is time I retire.”

  Victoria held her breath, praying Thomas would follow suit.

  “Good night to you, Father—and you need not worry,” amusement reappeared in Thomas’s voice, “things are well in hand here.”

  Boots scuffled along carpet and the room went dark an instant before the door creaked open then closed.

  “Aye,” Victoria murmured as she slipped from behind the wardrobe, “all is well in hand.”

  Chapter Seven

  As expected, Iain didn’t have to wait long before Father Brennan appeared from the confines of the monastery. Iain’s stallion pranced sideways, nudging a warrior’s horse to his left.

  “Father,” Iain said as the priest neared where he and his men waited.

  “Good day, Iain.” Father Brennan smiled. “What brings you to Montrose Abbey?”

  “Unfinished business.”

  Father Brennan lifted a hand and shielded his eyes against the glare of the morning sun. “Stealing tends to interfere with a man’s business.”

  “No absolution for my sins, Father?” The priest started to answer, but Iain interrupted. “Thomas heard rumblings of trouble from the Menzies clan, but I have seen no sign of them.”

  The priest gave his chin a vigorous rub. “I remember you asking me when…well, I have heard of no problems. What made your cousin think there was trouble?”

  “You know how it is with Thomas. He has a knack for knowing these things. He instructed me to stop here, so I did.” Iain laughed. “One would think it was not I who led the MacPhersons, but him.”

  “Good of you to oblige him,” the priest said with no little amusement. “I will let him know you did your duty.”

  “Christ, I would almost accuse the two of you of being in league against me. With him to the north and you in the south, I feel like a puppet being pulled to and fro.”

  “You, a puppet?” Father Brennan grunted. “It will snow in hell when I see that.”

  Despite the Father’s mirth, Iain didn’t miss the flicker of unnamed emotion on his face. “I assume I missed your visit to Fauldun Castle?” Iain asked.

  “You did. I was not sure when you would return and could not tarry long. I will return in a fortnight.”

  “How did you find things there?”

  “Well enough.”

  “A shame the trip was for naught,” Iain said.

  “Do not fret.” Father Brennan waved him off, and Iain knew the priest was purposely acting dense.

  “There is always much to do when I visit Fauldun Castle. It had been some time since I have been on

  MacPherson land.” He raised a recriminating brow.

  “Far too many of your men havna’ had confession. Come to think of it, neither have you. God knows you could use it.”

  “Perhaps it is too late for me?”

  “Mayhap.”

  “You saw the lass?”

  The priest made a show of searching his memory.

  “I believe I did.”

  “How did you find her?”

  “Well enough, considering.”

  “Considering?” At the grave shake of Father Brennan’s head, Iain tensed.

  “Considering, she is not among those who care for her.”

  All fear, along with Iain’s generous mood, vanished. “She is among those who care for her. You would do well not to insinuate otherwise.”

  “Aye, well…you know what I mean.”

  “I understand what you wish to accomplish, but

  ’tis unnecessary.”

  Father Brennan’s lips tightened. “She wishes to return to the abbey.”

  Iain sighed. “I have been away too long. What did she tell you?”

  “That is between her and me.”

  “I cannot help but notice you never refer to her by name.”

  Father Brennan scratched his head. “I had not noticed.”

  “What would her name be, Father?” Iain recognized the feigned look of surprise on the priest’s face.

  “You mean she did not tell you?” He made a tsking sound. “What a shame.”

  “I would be obliged if you told me.”

  Father Brennan smiled. “I was wondering how long it would take you to ask me outright. She instructed me not to tell you.”

  Iain raised a brow. “Instructed? Seems to be a lot of that going around.”

  Another laugh. “Aye, she threatened me with the fires of hell should I betray her confidence.”

  The twitch at Iain’s mouth tugged hard. “An interesting threat.”

  “Thank God she was born a woman. A man with that cunning would be dangerous.”

  “What did she do?”

  “She asked to make confes
sion, and during confession she told me her name was—” he cleared his throat. “Afterward, she reminded me that everything in the confessional was privileged.”

  “Surely you can see through such a ruse,” Iain blurted.

  Father Brennan’s mouth puckered. “Mayhap, but you took her, so now you will have to deal with her on her terms.”

  “What terms would those be?” Iain asked, though sure he was getting a fine dose of those terms now.

  The priest chuckled. “Lad, if I knew that, I would be given sainthood.” His expression sobered. “Her pride has been injured.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You took her without so much as a by-yourleave.”

  “That has nothing to do with pride. It is the way of things.”

  “She is a grown woman, not a young maid. She would prefer to make her own choices and not be dictated to by a husband.”

  “The choice has been made.”

  “That is not the impression she gave,” Father Brennan replied. “You, on the other hand, have not so much as a pang of conscience?”

  “I made no secret I wanted her.”

  “Aye.”

  “Does she look abused to you?” Iain demanded.

  “Nay,” came the grudging reply. There was a moment of silence. “You want her—and you know what I mean,” the priest added with a narrowing of his eyes.

  Iain answered with a slow nod.

  “I suppose we should talk, then.” Father Brennan turned toward the monastery. “If you wish to go any further, you will come and sit like a civilized man.” He glanced at the darkening sky. “Looks to be a bit of rain.” He was on the grounds now. “The world was not created on your terms, Iain MacPherson, and ’tis time you acted accordingly.”

  Admiration surfaced and Iain tossed the reins to one of his men. In one easy motion, he slid from the saddle, then stepped onto holy ground.

  * * *

  It came as no surprise to learn that Thomas had hit the mark. The lady’s father had been the Marquess of Washburn. Iain couldn’t help regretting that the marquess no longer lived. It would have been interesting to learn what manner of man allowed his daughter to follow the masculine pursuits of science and mathematics. The picture of father and daughter, heads huddled together across a desk, debating the Commentaries on Mathematical and Astronomical Topics, vanished as Father Brennan’s story ventured into a dark element.