Unbreakable (Highlands Forever Book 1)

by Violetta Rand

  Alex clenched his hands, the urge to hit the laird growing.

  “My father is telling the truth, Alex,” Broc said.

  “And why should I believe ye?”

  “Will ye walk with me?” Broc asked.

  Alex swallowed the bile in his throat and wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Aye.”

  “Father?” Broc gazed at his da. “I think ye should get dressed. We need to find Keely.”

  The old man threw Alex a disgusted look before he retreated back to his room and slammed the door.

  “Never strike my sire again without cause.”

  Alex sized his brother-in-law up. The man had earned his respect and had every right to defend his father. Though Alex wouldna directly apologize, he nodded.

  It was enough to satisfy Broc. “I know my sire is difficult enough to make anyone want to punch him. But he fully intends to bless your union with my sister.”

  “Then why has he waited so long?”

  Broc shrugged. “He drinks enough ale to ferment his own mind. I canna give ye a reasonable answer.”

  They could finish this conversation later. Alex wanted to find his wife. “Ride with me.”

  Broc gripped Alex’s upper arm. “Aye.”

  They hurried belowstairs where a number of the guards had gathered in the main hall. Jamie and Mathe were busy organizing the search parties. There was nothing for Alex to do. He gestured at Broc.

  “We can cover more ground alone.”

  Broc agreed and crossed himself. “May the Lord have mercy on us and my sister. Because unless she’s been kidnapped, I’ll throttle her myself.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  They had crossed into Sutherland territory an hour ago. Keely knew her way to Dunrobin Castle, but in case she forgot, Petro had brought a map with him. It would take three days of hard riding to reach their destination. Though she was comfortable astride a horse, she dinna have the physical strength required to gallop over the unforgiving terrain without stopping often. The weather had deteriorated – the sun was hidden behind thick, gray clouds and a steady rain pelted her already soaked clothes.

  Petro slowed his mount and waited for her to catch up. “Tis time to rest, Lady Keely.”

  “Not yet,” she said.

  The scholar gazed heavenward. “If I am a fair judge of the signs in the sky, this light rain is only the beginning. We should seek shelter.”

  Villages were located between there and Dunrobin, but the closest was still half a day’s ride away. Caves and the occasional hut could also be found, but Keely dinna want to waste their precious time finding one. If the scholar could brave the elements, she too must try.

  “I am willing to keep riding, Petro.”

  He refused and dismounted. “Your safety is my first priority. If anything happened to you, Alex would never forgive me, and I surely would not be able to live with myself.”

  His caring touched her heart.

  “Climb down,” he directed. “I will build a fire and we can eat.”

  She did as he asked, and followed him inside a copse where they’d take cover from the storm. She tied her horse to one of the trees and waited for Petro to build a fire. Keely liked to travel. The raw beauty of the Highlands had always called to her. Could any place be more blessed by the Almighty?

  “Ye said the Highlands remind ye of home?”

  “Aye,” Petro said. “Not Rome, but my family’s estate in the countryside. There’s fields of grapes and figs. Vegetable gardens and fragrant flowers. The women go barefoot and bathe in the golden sunshine. The men wear sandals in the field at harvest time, their baskets overflowing with the bounty of the earth.”

  Keely tried to picture the place in her mind. “It sounds like paradise.”

  “Perhaps for another man.”

  “The memory of yer wife and son keeps ye from going back?”

  “Aye,” he said. “I buried them on our property behind the cottage and erected a monument stone with their names on it. I planted her favorite blooms… jasmine, crocuses, and violets, so she would always remember the happiness we shared. I spent months sitting by their graves, wondering what to do with my life. If I should remarry and start a new family. But my heart wasn’t ready. And I refuse to wed a woman I do not love.”

  The man should be a poet, not a secretary. She swiped the tears from her eyes. “What I would give for that kind of love.”

  Petro finished building the fire, wiped his hands on his breeches, and settled beside her on the ground. “You are closer to it than you think.”

  “Are all Italians so optimistic?”

  He grinned. “We are a passionate people.”

  “After years of war with England and constant clashes between the clans, the Scots have grown cynical and disappointingly practical when it comes to love.”

  “You are mistaken, Lady Keely.”

  “How so?”

  “I do not know of another place that allows handfasting.”

  Keely shrugged. “There is nothing special about it. In the absence of a priest, a man and woman can declare themselves as married. It is an old tradition that many clans rely upon to secure treaties and preserve their bloodlines. There are those that take advantage and seduce maidens on the promise of holy wedlock.”

  “Nay,” he disagreed. “In the heat of passion when a man desires a woman so fiercely and knows he cannot have her without making her his wife first – this is the sole purpose of handfasting, to preserve honor, to make the marriage bed holy.”

  Once again, his words astounded her. “I doona think ye’re Italian, Petro.”

  “Nay?”

  “I believe ye came from a faerie mound.”

  He chuckled. “I am too dark and ugly to be a magical creature.”

  “Ugly?” Toads were ugly. Insects were ugly. “Ye are a striking man.”

  Petro snorted. “And you are blind.”

  “Glenna likes ye.”

  “Aye,” he confirmed. “I said I was ugly, not a bad lover.”

  He handed her a wineskin and she gladly took a drink—it warmed her insides. Then she ate a handful of venison and a piece of bread. As Petro had predicted, it started to rain harder and the winds picked up. She shivered and pulled her cloak tight around her shoulders.

  “You are cold and tired.” Petro unhooked his own cloak and offered it to her. “Sleep. I will keep watch.”

  “Thank ye.” She could use a short nap. With the added warmth of his cloak, she curled into a ball and rested her cheek on her hands. She wondered if Alex had discovered her missing yet—if he believed she abandoned him again. If the man would only take the time to talk to her, to think about how easily she married him, that she’d opened up her arms on their wedding night and gave her body freely to him, he’d realize she’d actually chosen him as her husband.

  She yawned and closed her eyes. There was time to worry about Alex tomorrow, after she settled things with the earl and Struan.

  *

  Sutherland territory

  The bad weather dinna dissuade Struan Sutherland from wanting to accomplish what he’d set out to do. Failure wasna an option. He’d been tracking the MacKays for over a week and keeping watch for any sign of Keely. His men were wet and tired, but there was time for comfort after they completed their task. They stayed in a camp just over the Sutherland border, a day’s ride from the MacKay keep.

  Just a mile away from his own camp, he’d spotted a fire while out on patrol. Many traveled this way and went unnoticed. And since the last attack on the MacKays, tensions were high on both sides. Struan knew the new laird would strike back at any time.

  “I will ride ahead,” he told his captain. “If they are MacKays, I will ride back and get ye.”

  As Struan cautiously advanced, he recalled the exchange he’d had with his sire before he left Dunrobin Castle. The earl dinna love him, and Struan dinna love his father, but he respected him for the powerful man he was. And his future depended
on his actions now.

  “Ye’re a worthless bastard,” the earl thundered at his son.

  Aye, Struan thought as he waited for his sire to calm down, I am that. A bloody bastard who had high ambitions, especially when it came to Keely Oliphant. She’d all but promised to marry him—spending hours with him—laughing at his jokes—sitting next to him at supper—dancing with him on feast days—always smiling whenever she saw him. Either the lady had been stringing Struan along to secure her place in his sire’s home or she cared for him. If the latter, he would do whatever he must to claim her as his bride.

  The earl shook the parchment in his hand. “We are expected to wait on the lady. She will visit us at her earliest convenience. And the missive doesna even bear her mark, it is the signature of the MacKay secretary.”

  Struan snatched the letter from his father’s hand and read it.

  The news of her marriage to Laird Alexander MacKay twisted his stomach with hatred. He’d never met the man before, but had heard enough stories to know him as a dishonorable sort. The kind of man Struan wouldna think twice about killing.

  “Her dowry,” his father continued, “more specifically, that fertile stretch of land between the Oliphant holdings and Clan Gunn, would have been tactically useful. More than ye know.”

  “I will bring her back.”

  “Oh, aye?” His father moved closer. “How?”

  “Instead of waiting on Keely to come to us, give me a retinue and I will ride for the MacKay keep.”

  “Do ye plan on walking through the gates and demanding her back?”

  “If that’s what it takes.”

  The earl grabbed a fistful of his son’s tunic and gave him a violent shake. “Fool. Do ye not know who Alex MacKay is? Where he’s been?”

  “Constantinople.”

  “Aye—fighting for the bloodthirsty barbarians. He’s hard as steel, lad. Not pampered like ye.”

  Struan adjusted his collar. “If not a direct confrontation, allow me to spy on the MacKays, to get a feel for their daily routine. If I can take the lass, I will. And once she’s back here…”

  “She’s been plucked and eaten,” the earl said. “No longer a maiden.”

  Struan thought virgins were overvalued. Give him a lass who knew what she wanted, who could ride him, aye, he’d die a happy man. “I care little for such things. If anything, Laird MacKay has done me a favor by breaking her in.”

  His father frowned. “Do what ye must, Struan. And if ye fail, so help me, I’ll regret the day I took mercy on yer life and claimed ye as my own.”

  Struan bowed and backed out of his sire’s solar.

  Though his father ruled his clan with an iron fist, he couldna control everything. The Sutherland holdings were vast, and not all of his tenants were as dedicated as they should be. Gold bought loyalty in the Highlands. And Struan had successfully organized a band of highwaymen three years ago. Robbing unsuspecting travelers was easy enough, and Struan had amassed a small fortune.

  Politics hadn’t inspired Struan to become a notorious thief. Nay, pure boredom had driven him to such extremes. Aye, he trained in the bailey every morning and could swing a sword and shoot an arrow as straight as any man. But he wanted more—needed more. Though his father’s noble blood tamed him some, twas his mother’s inferior family line that defined him. His maternal grandfather had been hung for piracy in Ireland twenty years ago.

  As he reached the perimeter of the woods, Struan dismounted and walked the rest of the way. Two horses were tied next to the camp. There was no movement, not even someone keeping watch. He found two people sleeping next to each other. As he moved closer, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He picked up a thick stick from the ground, opting for a club as a weapon instead of his sword.

  That’s when he noticed the woman and her thick black hair. Only one lass had those beautiful curls. Keely. He threw his head back and laughed at his luck. He couldna have prayed for a better outcome. She’d come back willingly. But who was her travelling companion?

  Hungry to touch her and hear her voice, he accidently stepped on some twigs. The snapping sound alerted the man next to Keely. He shot up, a dirk in his hand.

  “Who are you?” the stranger asked.

  “Ye’re on Sutherland lands,” Struan said calmly. “Tell me what ye’re doing with my betrothed?”

  “You are Struan Sutherland?”

  The fact that the stranger knew his name surprised him. “How do ye know me?’

  “My name is Petro de’ Medici, I am Laird Alexander MacKay’s secretary.” He reached inside his tunic and produced a missive with the Sutherland seal on it. “Your father invited Lady MacKay to Dunrobin Castle. I am her escort.”

  Why did he insist on calling her Lady MacKay? It angered Struan. Keely would be a Sutherland. His wife. “I will tell ye this only once. Keely Oliphant is betrothed to me.”

  Keely stirred and sat up, rubbing her eyes. “Petro? Who are ye talking to?”

  The secretary dinna have a chance to answer, she followed the direction of his gaze.

  “Struan?” she asked. “What are ye doing here?”

  *

  By nightfall, Alex and Broc returned to the keep. Their search hadna turned up anything. Keely was well away by now, and Alex felt crazy and helpless. If anyone got in his way, they’d suffer his wrath. He ascended the stairs into the great hall where many of his soldiers were waiting.

  “Milord,” Mathe met him halfway to the high table. “Did ye find her?”

  Alex gave him a stern look. If his captain was asking him, then he knew none of the soldiers who’d returned had good news. “Nothing. The heavy rain likely washed away any tracks. My plan is to eat and pack enough supplies to last for a couple of weeks. I willna return again until I find my wife.”

  “I will go with ye.”

  “Nay, Mathe. Ye must stay here and take care of the clan. I will ask Jamie to put off his trip, and Broc and several Oliphant soldiers will accompany me south.”

  “I understand, milord. There is more to tell ye.”

  “What?” Alex claimed his seat at the high table and invited the captain to join him.

  “I’ve questioned Leah.”

  “Does she know anything?”

  “The last person she saw Lady Keely with was yer secretary.”

  “Where is Petro?”

  “Gone, milord.”

  “Gone?” Perhaps spending time with Glenna?

  “The guards reported he left the keep last night with a woman named Katherine.”

  Alex dinna know any maids by that name. He must check. “Bring Leah to me.”

  Jamie and Broc sat down with him.

  “I rode west, Alex,” Jamie said. “No one has seen her.”

  Why did it take Keely leaving again in order for Alex to realize how he truly felt? That he loved and needed her? That he’d never let go of the past—that she’d lived in his heart and mind for the last five years.

  Alex had been an arrogant arse and blamed himself for her disappearance. While riding, he’d realized how cruel he’d been to Keely by isolating her, continually reminding her of how she’d betrayed him, denying his feelings, and keeping her under constant watch. What marriage could blossom under such conditions? Yet, she’d never faltered since they’d taken vows. Alex’s insides knotted. He slapped the tabletop out of frustration.

  “What is it?” Jamie asked, looking concerned.

  “I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

  “Aye, ye have,” Jamie said. “But it can be made right.”

  “Milord, ye asked to see me?”

  Alex looked up and found Leah standing in front of the dais. She curtsied, looking as haggard as he felt.

  “Aye, Leah. Is there anything ye can remember that might help us find yer mistress? A place she’s mentioned, someone she’s been spending time with?”

  Tears filled the maid’s eyes. “Nay, milord. She dinna feel well the night of the feast and went abovestairs. S
he asked me not to disturb her.”

  Alex turned a questioning look on Broc. “Did she speak with ye?”

  “Briefly. Told me she couldna take listening to ye and my da arguing anymore.”

  “Laird Alex!” Neil rushed forward.

  Alex shot up from his chair expecting bad news. His heart plummeted. “What has happened?”

  “We searched the scholar’s chamber and found this.” He held up a missive.

  Alex rounded the table. “From who?’

  “Yer scholar.”

  Alex snatched it from the soldier’s hand and read it quickly.

  Alex,

  First, I ask for your forgiveness. If I did not think this a worthy cause, I would have never offered to take Lady Keely to Dunrobin Castle. A missive arrived days ago from the earl, accusing Keely of failing to honor her betrothal to Struan Sutherland. Upon speaking with your wife, I am convinced she never accepted such a proposal. The only way to settle this is to speak with the earl and his son in person. I take full responsibility for everything.

  Your loyal servant,

  Petro de’ Medici

  He read it a second and third time to make sure he hadna missed anything. “Fook!” He crumpled the parchment.

  “Alex? Where is my sister?” Broc asked.

  “Call back the men,” Alex commanded. “Lady Keely has ridden for Dunrobin Castle.”

  “I doona understand.” Broc followed Alex outside.

  “Read it for yerself.” He shoved the letter into his hand.

  “I doona want to read it. I want ye to tell me why.”

  “Broc,” Alex said while climbing onto his horse. “There will be time for questions later. Gather our men and ride southward. I willna wait on anyone.”

  He rode through the gates like the devil was on his heels.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Keely tried to spit the bit of cloth out of her mouth that the Sutherland guard had gagged her with. Her hands were tied behind her back and she was draped over Struan’s lap. They dinna ride very far, for Struan stopped and she was handed down to a man while Struan dismounted.

  “Take her to my tent,” Struan ordered.