Ann Lethbridge

by Her Highland Protector

  Niall glared at Drummond. ‘You dastard. You coward.’

  ‘The smoke will bring him down soon enough,’ Drummond said carelessly. ‘Or you can fetch him down yourself.’

  The flames were leaping higher, the heat of them like a blast from a furnace. Drummond pulled Jenna out of the front door and out into the fresh air. His two men followed, coughing and gasping. Smoke poured out of the front door, then flames were licking at it and at the lower windows. She could hear the cracking of glass. It seemed like only minutes and the whole ground floor was ablaze. And there was no sign of Niall. She tried to pull free and go back in the house, while Drummond tried to pull her into his carriage waiting on the drive.

  Somehow she broke free. ‘No. There is no marriage. You broke our bargain and set fire to the house.’

  He grabbed her again. ‘By accident. And you don’t have a choice. By your own admission we are married.’

  ‘Consider us divorced.’ She kicked him in the shin with her sturdy boot.

  He howled, let go and fell to the ground, clutching his shin.

  ‘No court will uphold a promise made under duress,’ she said, glaring down at him. ‘Now get back in there and help find that boy.’

  ‘There,’ Fred shouted. ‘Up on the roof.’

  Jenna stared up. And saw them. The man and the boy clambering painfully slowly across the roof. So high. Her heart clenched in terror.

  A farmer galloped up on a horse. ‘I saw the smoke,’ he said, dismounting.

  ‘There’s nothing to be done,’ Drummond said. ‘Let it burn. Come on, lads, let’s go.’ He climbed into his carriage. Fred took the reins and, with the others sitting beside him, they drove away.

  ‘Cowards.’ The farmer shook his fist at the retreating coach. ‘Damnable cowards.’

  But Jenna had no time to spare for them. All she could do was stare at the two figures, one large, one small, desperately slipping and sliding on the grey slate tiles, heading up to the ridge.

  Oh, God, Niall and his fear of heights. If he froze...

  A breath caught fast in her throat. The blood drained from her head so fast she felt dizzy.

  She couldn’t bear to watch, but could not take her eyes from the two on the roof. Smoke was curling up from under the eaves now. At any moment the roof would be alight. Or collapse beneath them. Oh, why had she ever cared about this house? Niall was right. It was only bricks and mortar.

  ‘Hell,’ the man by her side said. ‘He’s got courage, whoever he is.’

  Courageous. And honest. And loyal.

  There wasn’t a man she’d ever met to match him.

  It was like a veil being stripped from her eyes. He was all those things, but he was so much more. He was dear to her heart. She loved him.

  No. No. She didn’t want to love anyone. Would not.

  But there was no stopping it. Her heart had known for ages. But she had been too afraid to listen. And now she was going to lose him. To the house. And she didn’t think she could bear it.

  She clenched her hands. Just let him live. I’ll never ask for anything else as long as I live, if you just let him be safe.

  ‘He seems to be making for the chimney,’ the farmer said. ‘Probably plans to jump for it. He’ll break his neck.’ He looked around him. ‘We need something to break their fall.’

  Her mind scrambled to keep up, while her gaze remained fixed to his precious form so high above her. ‘There are sacks of old fleece at the back of the stables.’

  ‘Right. You, there,’ he yelled at a couple of labourers from the village who had arrived breathless and now stood staring, helplessly. ‘Help me.’

  ‘Do we fetch water?’ one of them asked.

  ‘Too late for that. Come on, men.’ He strode off, the men in his wake.

  Sick to her stomach, once more Jenna raised her gaze upwards. So high. So far above the ground. And yet there he was, helping the boy inch by inch along the narrow ridge. He slipped. She felt her heart dip in a nauseous rush, her breath catching in her throat.

  She sank to her knees, her hands clasped at her breast, not wanting to look, scared to look away in case it made a difference.

  Somehow, he caught himself, kneeling, clinging on to the tile. The boy skipped along the ridge to the chimney and stood looking back, clearly encouraging Niall to follow.

  He did so on all fours, slowly, painfully, while Jenna bit her knuckles so hard she drew blood. Finally he reached the chimney, put one arm around it and sat. Jenna watched as he pulled a rope from his pocket and tied it around the narrow part of the chimney. This must have been his plan all along.

  Her body was shaking with fear. For him. For herself. She could only imagine how he must be feeling up there with the flames only feet away. And yet he was still trying to save that little boy, because that was what she had asked him to do.

  The tears filled her eyes and ran down her face and she watched him struggle to tie that rope.

  Once he had it fastened, he looped a knot in the free end and lowered it down the side of the end wall. It dangled a good few feet above the ground when stretched to its full extent. The farmer and his helpers ran back and forth at desperate speed, piling sacks out from the wall.

  More people from the village were arriving. ‘Shall we try to put it out?’ the tavern owner asked Jenna.

  She shook her head, numbly.

  ‘’Tis a sad day,’ a woman said. ‘What on earth started the fire?’

  Not what, but who. But she did not care a fig for that now, as Niall once more got to his feet on that narrow ridge, knowing how hard it must be for him to stand there, knowing how hard he must be shaking, because she was shaking, too.

  He helped the boy with the rope and the lad shimmied down to the knotted end. He was grinning from ear to ear as if it was some kind of game. At the bottom, he let go and landed with a whoop in the sacks.

  Niall, on the other hand, was gripping the chimney as if he would never let go.

  He had to. Every part of her being willed him to climb down that rope as the boy had done. The flames were at the upstairs windows now. The roof might give way at any moment. He must climb down that rope.

  Without thinking she got up, drawing closer, standing beside the sacks of wool, looking straight up the length of rope to where Niall stood.

  ‘Your turn,’ the farmer said, waving at him.

  ‘Niall,’ she called out. ‘You can do it.’

  Their gazes met and he straightened, grabbed the rope and started down, hand over hand. She covered her mouth with her hands in case she should cry out and somehow disturb his determination. When he reached the knot, he hung there, not looking down, but staring straight at the stone wall for what felt like hours but could only be moments.

  A loud crash.

  Voices cried out in horror.

  The chimney shook and bits of tile rained down from the roof. The roof had fallen in.

  ‘Niall,’ she shrieked. ‘Now. Let go now. Please.’

  He released the rope with a yell and landed heavily amid the sacking. Her knees gave way. She collapsed on the ground, sobbing.

  He ran at her. ‘Quick,’ he said, pale as a ghost, grabbing her arm. ‘Get away from here. The chimney could come down at any moment.’

  Everyone was running away from the building, and then they turned to watch as the roof fell inwards. Niall dropped onto the grass and put his head in his hands between his knees.

  She sank down beside him. She looked at his dear brave face and the tears flowed anew. She couldn’t speak, she was so happy he was safe.

  ‘I’m sorry, Jenna,’ he said. ‘So sorry. There was no way to save the house.’

  There was blood on his face. ‘You are hurt.’

  He touched a finger to his forehead. ‘I banged it on the window, climbing out onto the roof.’

  ‘I can’t believe you did that.’

  He gave a shaky laugh. ‘Nor can I.’

  Sitting on the grass together, they watched the chimney t
opple, bricks and rubble and dust flying upwards to join the smoke from the fire.

  ‘That is it, then,’ she said, and was surprised that she felt almost relieved. She hid her face in her skirts.

  Niall patted her back. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘So it has come to pass.’

  Jenna looked up to see Sean standing beside them, his hat in his hand, the flames from the fire glowing in his eyes. It was eerie to say the least.

  ‘Don’t tell me you saw this in your dreams,’ Niall said. ‘If so, you should have warned us.’

  ‘Choices, laddie,’ Sean said softly. ‘It is all about choices. My time here is done. Drummond will pay for his crimes, no doubt.’

  Niall stared at him. ‘Is that what this is all about? Your retribution for him building on that land.’

  The gypsy’s eyes flickered. ‘’Tis a smart man you are, Niall Gilvry. I just hope you make the right choice.’

  At that moment, Mrs Hughes hurried up. ‘Oh, my poor dear, I am so sorry. I came the moment I saw the smoke. Your poor father must be turning in his grave.’

  Getting up, Jenna looked around for the gypsy, wanting to ask him what he meant, but he seemed to have melted away. He was very good at disappearing.

  Niall rose beside her. ‘It can be rebuilt.’

  He sounded so weary, so dispirited, she wanted to say something to comfort him, but what could she say? What she wanted to say required privacy, and right now they had an audience.

  They stood silently with the others, watching the house as it continued to burn.

  The farmer who had first come to their aid, walked over and shook Niall’s hand. ‘Ewen Lithgow,’ he said.

  ‘Niall Gilvry.’

  ‘A fine rescue, sir. If I can ever be of service, I would be proud to be of assistance.’ He bowed. ‘And to you, ma’am.’

  ‘Thank you for your help, sir.’ Jenna dipped a curtsy.

  Lithgow looked back at the house. ‘Nothing more to be done, I’m afraid. It could burn for days.’ He went for his horse, tipped his hat and rode off.

  ‘He is right,’ Jenna said to Niall. ‘All that could be done, has been done.’

  ‘Come back to the vicarage, child,’ Mrs Hughes said. ‘We’ll have a nice cup of tea and think about what to do next. I never did like you coming out here alone.’

  She hadn’t been alone. She had been with Niall. She just hadn’t fully appreciated his presence.

  ‘Listen, Jenna,’ Mrs Hughes hissed in her ear. ‘A letter has arrived from Lord Carrick. His carriage will arrive first thing tomorrow to take you back home.’

  Carrick Castle wasn’t her home.

  She looked back at the smouldering house. Nor was Braemuir. Her home had been where she had lived with her family, not the walls that had surrounded them. And her family had been gone for many long years. She just hadn’t acknowledged it.

  Numb, she let Mrs Hughes hook her arm around her elbow and chivvy her along the drive and down the lane.

  Niall fell in behind with William, who was happily chattering about balancing on ridgepoles and climbing down ropes. Every time she tried to turn around to say something, Mrs Hughes pulled her along even faster, deliberately widening the gap.

  The lady leaned closer. ‘Your cousin says if you do not return at once he will swear out a warrant for Mr Gilvry’s arrest for abduction.’

  Horrified, Jenna stared at her. ‘Mr Gilvry did not abduct me. Drummond did.’

  Mrs Hughes’s face showed disbelief. ‘Well, as I understand it, the two of you ran off together. Carrick is just trying to put a good face on it, for your sake. My dear, you would be well to keep your distance from that young man from now on, if you wish to keep your reputation.’

  ‘I have to speak to Niall.’

  ‘I think not. Your cousin has given you to Mr Hughes’s care until you leave tomorrow. You will do as I bid. I will not have Lord Carrick turning my husband out of his living.’

  She really did not want that, either.

  Mrs Hughes ushered her through the garden gate and turned back to prevent Niall from entering. ‘You will stay at the tavern, Mr Gilvry,’ she said loudly. ‘There is a letter here for you from Lord Carrick.’ She pulled a note from her pocket and handed it over. ‘I understand he has terminated your employment.’

  Jenna caught a glimpse of his face before he turned away. Grim resignation was the only way to describe his expression.

  ‘Inside, Lady Jenna,’ Mrs Hughes said. She lowered her voice. ‘Please. We have served your family well all these years. Do not by your recklessness ruin our lives as well as your own.’

  The admonition was well deserved. She had been thoughtless and reckless. Trying to recapture something she’d lost a long time ago. Not her home. But the love she’d felt there. In so doing, she’d lost something far more important. Niall.

  Back in that field she had promised that she would ask for nothing for herself if only Niall was spared. Another promise she had to keep. Didn’t she?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Niall sat in the corner of the taproom, nursing his whisky. The letter from Carrick had been to the point. He was appalled and would be taking the matter of Niall’s behaviour up with Ian. He was not expected back at Carrick. And if he came anywhere near Lady Jenna, he would be charged with abduction.

  So much for doing his family proud.

  But none of that really mattered. It only mattered that Lady Jenna was safe.

  He was going to miss her.

  Self-disgust filled him. He’d taken her innocence, let his base urges override reason. He just hoped she would not pay the price for his inability to behave like a gentleman, that in time she would find a suitable husband and that one day her precious home would be rebuilt. She was a determined wee lass and he had no doubt she would find a way to do it.

  He loved that about her. Her determination. Her courage. Such a brave lass.

  He loved her? Aye, he did. He loved the way she’d fought to achieve her father’s plans for her and her land. She had far more courage in her little finger than he had in the whole of his body. Look at the way he’d frozen on that roof. Turned into a mindless lump of cowardly jelly. Only the sound of her voice had enabled him to let go of that rope, or right now he’d be ashes.

  But he did love her. And that was why he must disappear from her life.

  Yesterday, in Drummond’s barn, Sean had said it was as plain as the nose on his face they were meant to be together. Gypsies. What did they know of the real world? It was Sean’s fault they had spent so much time alone together. He should have taken them straight back to Carrick Castle.

  And by now Jenna would be safely married to Murray.

  They were not, as Sean had insisted that afternoon, married. Sharing bread and salt at a gypsy fire did not constitute a wedding. It might be all right for gypsies, but it was not all right for a lady. Any more than Drummond’s forced declaration had been right. Which reminded him: he needed to speak to the magistrate in the town. William had agreed to give evidence, so he could have them charged with the lad’s abduction without Jenna’s name having to be mentioned. Not that they were likely to lay their hands on Drummond any time soon. According to the tavern owner, Drummond had been seen heading, not for his own house, but south. No doubt planning to leave the country. A villain he might be, but not a fool. He’d known it was time to cut his losses.

  And Jenna would be gone in the morning.

  He would likely never see her again.

  Just as well.

  His heart contracted to the size of a pea. A painful sensation. One he had better get used to. And yet, how could he let her go without at least saying a proper goodbye? They had gone through too much together to just walk away without a word.

  He wanted to tell her how much he admired her. Her courage. Her determination to keep her promise, even though it left him out in the cold. He pushed his chair back from the table and strode out of the tavern door.

  And stopped short at the vis
ion before him. It was as if his mind had somehow conjured her up, standing there in the cloak she’d worn the night they left the Castle.

  ‘Jenna?’ he said, questioning his sanity. Feeling his heart leap with hope at the sight of her.

  ‘Niall. Thank goodness.’

  ‘Good God, woman, what are you doing hanging around outside a tavern door?’

  ‘I came to find you,’ she said, with a shy half-smile. ‘Once I got here, I realised what a foolish notion it was to think I could just walk in and ask for you.’

  ‘Foolish, aye.’ And utterly fearless as usual, but not to the point of stupidity. ‘Come. I will walk you back to the house.’

  Most of the houses along the lane still had lamps burning beside their doors so the path was easy to see as they fell into step, not touching.

  She wrapped her arms about herself as if she was cold and he had the terrible urge to pull her close, to warm her with his heat, in more ways than just holding her. He widened the distance between them.

  ‘Where were you going?’ she asked.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘You were leaving the inn.’

  A clever girl, his Jenna, except of course that she was not his. And would never be. ‘I wanted to bid you farewell. We did not have a chance earlier.’

  ‘Where will you go?’

  ‘I haven’t decided, but most likely home.’ To face the music. To let Ian know he had managed to make a mess of things, first. But he would not stay there. He did not belong at Dunross.

  They reached the vicarage. She stopped at the gate. ‘How were you planning to see me? Everyone is asleep and my chamber is on the second floor.’ She tilted her head in that pixy gesture she had. ‘Don’t tell me you were going to climb through the window?’

  He grinned. ‘I thought I might chuck a few pebbles at the glass.’

  ‘In hopes I might wake? It would take more than that. No, laddie, you would have had to have climbed.’ There was laughter in her voice.

  ‘Aye, well, when a man has a strong enough reason, he’ll do anything, even risk his life.’

  ‘Like climbing onto a roof to save a boy?’

  He swallowed, his mouth drying at the recollection. ‘Aye. If he must.’