Reckless Scotland: A Scottish Medieval Romance Bundle

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Reckless Scotland: A Scottish Medieval Romance Bundle Page 117

by Victoria Vane


  Slowing his mount to a slow plod, the soldier behind her released a piercing whistle. “Open the gate.”

  His earsplitting bellow rang in her ears and bore in her aching head. From the wall, an echoed affirmation followed as the grinding metal gears groaned. The portcullis climbed high enough to permit their small party entry into the courtyard. The horses’ heavy clomps resounded through the nearly empty interior.

  A lone figure stood at the top of the keep’s front steps. His sinister grin stretched wider as the men reined their mounts yards away. Bathed in torchlight, Tavish MacNab descended the stone stairs. With a head full of dark hair, squared jaw and a tall, lean frame, he resembled her father. The stark reminder sent a jolt of alarm through Nora. ’Twas unfathomable a man as vile as her uncle could bear such a striking resemblance to the goodness that was her father.

  Craning her neck, she glanced to her left, seeking out Will to gauge his reaction. Despite his bound hands and gag, he appeared collected and unruffled. How the devil could he remain calm at a time like this?

  His dark eyes met hers for a flicker of a moment before latching on to their uncle. The unfettered hatred glittering in his gaze gave her pause. Over the years, whenever they’d spoken of their kin, Will had never displayed such a deep-seated anger as he did in that moment.

  “Saints, you pair are a sight for sore eyes!” Tavish’s raucous laughter boomed through the silent courtyard. “Oh, come now. Do not despair. ’Twas inevitable we would find the two of you at some point. At least your mother and father had the good grace not to flee and hide themselves away like cowards.”

  The crude words sliced through her fear, and a loathing disgust promptly filled the vacuity. Were her hands unbound, she might’ve reached for the shears stowed in the pocket of her apron and carved out the horrid man’s eyes.

  Fergus dismounted, brushing away the dust from his clothing. “’Twas as simple as you said it would be.”

  Tavish snorted. “Of course. After the information Kenneth and Beatrice passed along, I did not think you would find trouble. It would seem Fraser’s softened since he’s found himself a bride.” Pivoting toward the opened doors of the front entrance, he barked out, “Get out here and give them a hand.”

  ’Twas all Nora could do not to growl at the mention of Beatrice’s name. Christ, if she got her hands on the foul woman…

  Four MacNab soldiers filed through the doorway, reluctance evident in their sullen demeanors and dragging feet. Nora’s brows lifted at the familiar faces of Owen and Gordon. She remembered the young soldiers well from her youth. The pair had sworn fealty to her father not long before his murder.

  Features set with a deep scowl, Owen treaded closer and lifted his arms to grab her from the saddle. As soon as his gaze connected with hers, recognition flashed in his light eyes. His hold around her middle faltered for a brief instant, nearly causing the warrior to drop her. The man’s mouth parted in surprise before he righted himself. Owen shot a quick glance over his shoulder at Gordon who aided her brother from the saddle. Identical looks of astonishment reflected in their eyes.

  Bemused, Nora was uncertain what to make of their responses.

  “Fraser and MacGregor will not be far behind,” Fergus warned his father as he strode inside the keep without a backward glance.

  “Foolish bastards. Fraser never could leave well enough alone.” Tavish grunted his displeasure and swung his arm at the entrance. “Get them inside, now.” He snorted. “For memory’s sake, lock them in Nora’s old chamber for the time being. We’ll see to them afterward.”

  Her spine stiffening into a straight arrow, she darted a quick glance at her brother. As soon as their gazes met, Owen gripped her upper arm and tugged her toward the front steps. With a long day balanced precariously atop a horse, her unsteady legs wobbled and she almost tumbled to her shaky knees. Owen tightened his grasp, preventing her from falling flat on her face. Leaning into his side, she forced her weak legs to bear her weight.

  Once Nora stepped inside what had once served as her home, a deep gouge of emotion cleaved at her chest. When she’d fled with her brother and Geordie five years before, she never imagined laying eyes on her father’s keep again, much less stepping foot inside the place.

  As Owen and Gordon bustled her and Will up the main stairway, she stole glimpses into the emptied great hall and down the passageway leading to the kitchens and buttery in the rear of the keep. Filth littering the stone floors, the hall was a sight different than she’d remembered. The cloying odors of soured food and unwashed bodies assaulted her nostrils. ’Twas hard to reconcile in her mind that she and her brother had once run and played within the same stone walls in their youths.

  Expelling the thoughts from her mind, she could not afford to waste time dwelling on the memories of her past. Their futures mattered far more than a recollection of happier times—times unsullied by their kin’s greed and avarice.

  When they reached the third level, the MacNab soldiers led them down the wide, vacant passageway. She blinked at the bare corridor. The last she had seen, rich, ancestral tapestries covered the somber, stone walls while a few smaller pieces of furniture and ancestral tokens adorned the hall. But now, naught but torches hung from the holders throughout the walkway.

  At the end of the corridor, the men paused outside the chamber Nora once called her own. Gordon unlatched the door and light spilled inside the darkened interior. Owen stepped inside to retrieve a candle. Lifting the holder to the torch outside the door, he lit the wick and motioned her and Will inside, following close behind them.

  Candlelight illuminated the simple, unfurnished room and Nora lifted her brows. Aside from a rickety table where Owen placed the candleholder, no trace of Nora’s belongings remained, not even her bed. From the stirred dust and stale air, she doubted anyone had occupied the chamber in a long while.

  The soldier pulled a dirk from his boot and raised the weapon toward them. A frisson of alarm jolted through Nora’s frame. She sprang in front of her brother, glaring defiantly at the MacNab warrior.

  “I mean neither of you harm, my lady.” He lifted the dagger in his flattened palm. “I merely wish to cut away your bindings.”

  Wary of the man, Nora studied the soldier as he made quick work of her and Will’s gags and ties around their wrists.

  Once done, he moved to the doorway and spoke in hushed tones to Gordon. The pair exchanged repeated glances at her and Will. She strained to hear their muffled conversation but to no avail. From their unreadable expressions, ’twas difficult to judge the manner of their discussion. She peered at her brother who lifted a shoulder with a half-shrug.

  Ending their quiet dialogue, Owen nodded and stepped free of the entrance, sealing the door shut behind him. The ebony-haired soldier shook his head, his light green gaze beseeching Nora across the dim chamber.

  “My lady, my lord, your appearance has completely given us a shock.”

  Nora frowned at the soldier’s words.

  “’Tis the God’s honest truth, the clan believed you both dead.” Owen’s brows furrowed. “Tavish informed us the pair of you perished with your father and mother. Your graves are in the churchyard beside your parents.”

  Stunned by the information, Nora gaped at the man. Anger shoved aside her disbelief, flooding her to the core. What a deceitful, lying arse her uncle was!

  Before she found her tongue to spit out a curse, Will grunted. “’Twas fortunate Nora had the foresight for us to flee. I suspect we would’ve shared the same fate as our parents had we not.”

  Owen’s troubled glance darted between them. “Please, believe me. The men and I would’ve sought you both out had we known the truth. We swore our allegiance to your father. Despite years under Tavish’s thumbs, we’ve not wavered from our loyalty.”

  “Where is everyone?” Will gestured to the walls. “What happened here? The keep is bare of people and furnishings.”

  The warrior’s lip curled with distaste. “After your f
ather’s demise, Tavish and his son ran through the stores and coffers within the first year. The village fell into disrepair, the pastures and fields laid barren. He’s sold off most of the furniture for a bit of coin to keep him and his son fed, while the rest of us have languished under his poor leadership.”

  Nora’s heart ached for their clan, at the sheer negligence they must’ve suffered by her uncle’s hand. “What has happened to the clan?”

  “More than half of us fled when faced with starvation during the harsh winter months. They had no choice, my lady.”

  Tavish’s despicable mistreatment sparked a fury in Nora that burned to the depths of her soul. After prior years of accusing her father of mishandling their clan, her uncle had driven away more than half their people with his blatant, selfish disregard. She questioned if the man had ever genuinely cared for the MacNabs a day in his shameful life.

  “I’m truly sorry, Owen.” Nora swept her arm wide to encompass her brother. “After we fled for safety, we knew not of what occurred. At the time, my only thought was to flee with Will. There was no question of whether Tavish and Fergus would kill us. ’Twas merely a matter of when.” Struck with guilt, she admitted, “I wish I could’ve done something to help or found a way to ease the clan’s burden. I hope the clan can find a way to forgive us.”

  Pacing closer, Owen offered her a kind smile. “My lady, there is naught for you or your brother to regret. The pair of you was too young to challenge your uncle’s treachery. There was naught either of you could’ve done.” The soldier turned his hopeful gaze on Will. “’Tis glad I am to see your return, my lord. Allow me and Gordon to be the first to welcome you home. No doubt the clan will rejoice when they learn you’re alive and have returned to lead us.”

  Will’s brows shot to his hairline and his mouth hung open. “Er, I’m not so certain of that, Owen. We’re not here merely by design, if you remember. Our uncle intends to kill us.”

  The warrior shook his head, his gaze sobering. “Not if your clan has a say in the matter, my lord. There are many of us who have always remained loyal to your father. There are some who follow Tavish, but I say good riddance to them. This is our home. ’Tis why many of us never left. This has been our families’ home for generations. We’re MacNabs, through and through. If you are half the man your father was, then we shall follow you to the end.”

  Caught off guard, Will gaped at Owen, but the man’s words suffused Nora with renewed strength. The future she’d yearned for her brother was within grasp at last. An opportunity landed in their laps, and she would be damned if they did not seize upon the chance.

  Disregarding her brother’s apprehension, she asked, “What are we to do about Tavish, Fergus and those loyal to them?”

  Owen answered with a wide grin. “Allow me to handle matters, my lady. I shall speak to the men. Surely, we must outnumber the others two to one at the least. Should be no trouble to gain control of the keep and hold our positions until we corner and capture Tavish and Fergus.” His smile slipped. “But we will need to move swiftly and strike hard. Nightfall shall work to our advantage, since many have sought their beds for the eve.”

  The guard’s readiness surprised Nora. “You’ve given this a bit of forethought, if I wager a guess.”

  “You’ve no notion how often, my lady.” His gaze slid from hers. “Forgive me, but most of us have reached a point we can longer endure Tavish’s glaring disregard for this clan. Many go hungry, the clan’s children included. Within the past year the quiet murmurs of dissension have grown into a deafening roar. We cannot sit idly by as our homes crumble into naught more than rubble at our feet while your uncle destroys what’s left of this clan.”

  “Nor should any of you have to.” Will’s vehement words resounded in the empty chamber. “You are right, Owen. He cannot continue with his course, not at the expense of the clan. The MacNabs are a resilient lot, forgiving and strong, but enough is enough. We shall stand with you.”

  “In truth?” Nora peered at Will, astounded by his change of heart. He accepted far easier than she anticipated.

  He nodded his assent. “We cannot allow them to continue to suffer. Not when we could do something—anything—to help. These are our people, Nora.”

  “There’s no question in my mind.” Struck by the moral goodness of him, she grasped his hand. “You are every bit the man our father was.”

  Snorting, Will hauled her against his side, sweeping her in a one-armed embrace. “’Tis not the time to get maudlin on me. There’s much we must do.” He lifted his chin at Owen, resembling the nearly grown man she often refused to see. “Can you equip us with weapons?”

  “Of course, Laird, but I imagined the pair of you might remain safe locked away here.”

  Will shook his head. “Nay, Owen. This is our fight as much as yours. I believe some of our allies might arrive before dawn.”

  The MacNab warrior’s brows climbed to his ebony hairline. “Oh?”

  “I suspect Laird MacGregor and his cousin were not far behind us.” Will squeezed Nora’s shoulder.

  Saints, she hoped he spoke the truth.

  Nodding at the information, Owen unlatched the door and waved a hand at the soldier outside the doorway. “Gordon will stand guard while I assemble the others. When I return, we shall make our move.”

  ’Twas a move Nora had awaited for five long years. Pride swelled in her chest, imbuing her with a sense of satisfaction. At last, Will would inherit his birthright as he deserved.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “FOR CHRIST’S SAKE, Nora. Stop, would you?” Will’s exasperated voice reverberated off the bare, stone walls.

  Pausing long enough to glance at him, Nora met his frowning features in the dim candlelight. “Stop what?”

  He leaned against the wall near the entrance, shifting from his shoulder to his back. “You’re going to wear a blasted hole in the floorboards with your pacing.”

  “Well, ’tis not as if there’s a place to sit. Besides, I cannot help myself. I’m strung together as tight as a lute string.”

  Despite her aching muscles from the day’s hard ride, she resumed her trail back and forth from one end of the bedchamber to the other as she’d done since Owen left them alone. A taut ball of nervousness clenched her stomach in knots. Though she waited impatiently for the soldier’s return, her mind strayed to a number of disconcerting thoughts. The foremost—what if Owen’s plan happened to go awry?

  “And I’m not?” Will asked incredulously.

  “What?” In the midst of another turn, she narrowed her eyes at him. “I do not believe that for one instant. This entire time, you’ve remained calm and steady, even when Fergus held a sword to your neck. ’Tis truth, I envy your composure.”

  His low chuckle rumbled in the empty chamber. “Oh, Nora. You cannot be serious.”

  What the devil did that mean? She paused before him, crossing her arms over her chest, and waited for him to explain.

  “Where do you suppose I learned the skill in the first place?” The reflection of the candle’s flame flickered in his amused eyes. “From you, of course. I suspect you’ve learned the ability by necessity over the years and, for that, I am sorry. I know you’ve carried a heavy weight since Mother and Father’s deaths, having to care for me. You’ve sacrificed much for my safety, Nora. If I regret anything in this life, ’tis that I could not have done more to ease your burden.”

  The words caught Nora by surprise. At times, she failed to comprehend just how perceptive and clever her younger brother truly was. More often than not, she’d chosen to hold her tongue around him. Mayhap she had learned to conceal her true feelings, but ’twas simply because she never wished to tarnish his youth with melancholy tales or painful memories of their past. He’d faced enough misfortune in his young life without constant reminders. If she could bear the burden for both of them, then she’d gladly carry the weight ten times over, if necessary.

  Releasing a sigh, Nora joined him against the wal
l beside the door. “I confess, ’twas difficult at times, but that was neither your fault nor mine. In truth, I believe we’ve adapted to our circumstances as best we could. Moreover, ’twas never a burden to care for you, Will. You’re my brother and I shall always protect you to the best of my abilities. Naught will ever change that between us.” She nudged his arm. “You should be used to all my nagging and mothering by now, eh?”

  Grinning, he rolled his eyes. “You would think.”

  They slipped into a tense silence and Nora watched the faint flicker of the candle’s flame.

  “Nora?” Will hesitated a moment before peering down at her. “If we succeed, this shall change everything for us. I’m sure you’re aware.”

  “I know,” she mumbled.

  His forehead creased with concern. “Are you prepared for that?”

  She spoke in earnest. “Not a day has passed since we fled five years ago that I have not wished for this moment. I’ve always hoped you would reclaim our home and lead our people as you were meant.” She shrugged. “I suppose I’ve never spoken much of the matter because I was uncertain of your true feelings.”

  A peal of laughter bubbled out of him. “I never broached the subject with you because I was unsure of your feelings.”

  Amused by his admission, she joined in his mirth. “What a pair the two of us make.”

  As their humor subsided and the chamber fell into silence once more, she tugged at his sleeve. When he met her gaze, she said, “I know you have your doubts but, please, do not. You’ve grown into a remarkable young man. You’ll be as wonderful a chieftain as Father.”

  “Thank you for your confidence in me, Nora. I’m not as certain in my abilities, but I’m willing to try.” His gaze narrowed a fraction. “When this is over, what shall you do about Liam?”

  Now that, she was unprepared for. Resting her hands against the wall behind her back, she gnawed on her bottom lip. “He’s asked me to wed him.”

 

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