Captivated by the Enemy: (Scottish Highland Romance)

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Captivated by the Enemy: (Scottish Highland Romance) Page 5

by Fiona MacEwen


  “Not at all. I let her go so that her father would ken she was alright, and so ye would not be able to kill her.”

  This seemed to be too much for Manfred. With a cry of fury, he lunged at his son, reaching for his sword. He paused in his movements and doubled over, coughing uncontrollably, his eyes narrowing as he realized his sword was not strapped to his waist.

  “Would ye kill me if ye had a sword, Father?” Blaine was surprisingly calm. “Yer eldest son? Would ye rather Hiram succeeded ye when ye died?”

  “Be quiet,” the laird snapped, straightening, fixing his murderous gaze on his son. He retreated to his desk and sat down, raking his fingers through his hair.

  “There is more,” Blaine said. He knew what he was about to say would only worsen his father’s mood, but he had gone this far now, stopping seemed a bit pointless.

  “More?” The laird’s eyebrows seemed to be receding to the back of his skull. “Whit are ye talking about?”

  “I am talking about the fact that I am in love with Ness McGregor.”

  There was a moment in which everything seemed to freeze. The temperature in the study had plummeted. Blaine’s father stared at him as though he were an impostor. Blaine thought he would attack him, but the laird merely looked at him in amazement.

  “Whit?”

  “It is naw–”

  “But ye have only met her once. How is it even possible for ye have fallen in love? And with her!”

  “Actually, I have met her more than once. I found her lying on the path, having been robbed, on my way back from Breas. It was then that I was taken by her. I allowed her to ride behind me on my horse and took her to Glenstrae. And when I found out who she was, my feelings for her didnae fade.”

  “Ye have only met this lass twice!” the laird spat. “And ye claim to be in love with her.”

  “That is correct, Father. I seem to recall that ye and Mother took less than a week to fall in love with each other.”

  “Yer mother was never a supporter of the McGregors! Ye do not ken whether this girl will go behind yer back while ye are defenseless, and stab ye. The McGregors will never resist a chance to do a thing like that.”

  “I find that quite ironic,” Blaine pointed out, “considering that it was a Campbell who started the rivalry by going behind Alan McGregor’s back and murdering his wife.”

  “Oh, so noo ye are taking sides with them?” The laird looked like he would give anything to have his sword in his hand right now.

  “I am not taking sides with anybody. Personally, I think this rivalry between the clans is a waste of time. It so happens that the woman I am in love with shares the same idea, and she is from the other clan. Tell me father, is that not enough to prove to ye that we can coexist in peace?”

  “Ye–”

  “I implore ye to see the reality of the matter. Let the problems of the past remain there. There is no reasonable cause to continue to be at loggerheads with people who had not even been born at the time that Alan lost his wife to yer ancestor.”

  The laird slammed his fist on the desk. “This rivalry is a legacy!”

  “I prefer to think of it as human foolishness. It will do us no guid, only more harm than one can ever imagine, unless it is brought to an end.”

  “The clans–more than a hundred years of rivalry–”

  “Which dinnae have to go on forever,” Blaine finished. “Everything which has a beginning must come to an end eventually, Father. In the case of the enmity, Ness and I would rather it ended sooner, to prevent drastic things from happening.”

  “I–I–” the laird spluttered.

  “I understand that this matter has left ye nearly speechless. If ye are not convinced that what I have said is true, perhaps ye will be gracious enough to permit Ness to return to Argyll unharmed and without harassment, and ye will hear us out. For noo, I will leave ye to deliberate in silence.”

  And at these words, he turned on his heel and left the study.

  “That went quite well,” he muttered to himself.

  Chapter 7

  Blaine’s Sword

  “Are ye absolutely certain ye want to go there, Miss?” asked the driver, looking over his shoulder at her with a frown.

  “Of course I am,” Ness snapped. “Ye remind me of Mr. Knightley. Would I ask ye to go there if I did not want ye to?”

  The driver still looked rather reluctant. “Yer father ordered me to take ye to Breas, not Argyll–”

  “But it is I who sits here, not he, so ye will obey my command. Unless ye want to get sacked.”

  She sat back and watched as the driver who she could have sworn was cursing under his breath, stopped the wagon and changed course. In a few minutes, they were speeding along the path that led to Argyll.

  “Ye will not breathe a word about this to my father. If he asks ye, tell him that ye took me to see Matilda like he ordered. Do ye unnerstaun?”

  The driver nodded curtly, but said nothing.

  Nearly a week had passed since her last meeting with Blaine. Her father had been rather cross at her for the first few minutes after she got home, but he soon calmed down when she told him the lie she had made up about getting lost on her way to Breas. To avoid further excuses, he hired a new driver since Mr. Knightley had refused to show up.

  She had received a letter only two days after. Had it not been for Anne, Ness’s sister, the letter might have fallen into her father’s hands and that would have spelled a lot more than trouble. The letter was from no other than Blaine McCullough, and seeing it would have caused her father to have a fit if he ever saw it.

  Ness drew the letter out of her purse, unfolded it and stared at it.

  Ness.

  I have spoken to my father. He was not pleased when I informed him of our brief encounters, but I managed him to convince him that our ideas are not part of a plot to tip the scales in favor of the McGregors. It was not easy as I am sure ye ken. Paranoid fathers can be very tough to handle sometimes.

  If ye are reading this letter, ye must have made it hame safely. That is guid. I hope that yer father was not too uset with ye for leaving the castle and going to visit yer friend Matilda in Breas, if ye ken what I mean. Perhaps he will permit ye once more to leave the castle and come to meet me? I am looking forward to seeing ye again.

  Please reply as soon as ye receive this letter.

  Blaine.

  He was looking forward to seeing her again. That brought a smile on her face. He missed her as much as she missed him. She urged the driver to go faster so that they would reach Argyll sooner. This he did with a grumble.

  They were just reaching the town when the driver gave a gasp of surprise and brought the cart to a halt. The sudden stop made Ness slide forward on her seat. She glared at the driver and opened her mouth to berate him, but closed it abruptly when she saw why he had stopped the cart.

  A man stood in the middle of the road, clad in a dark brown tartan that had red stripes running across it. As Ness watched, her heart suddenly beating faster, the man cocked his head and addressed the driver, his voice low and surly.

  “Get out of here if ye want to live.”

  The driver had no weapon on him, though Ness was sure that if he had, he would not have used it. He gave a quick nod, leapt out of his seat and took off, ignoring Ness’s cry of protest. The coward!

  Maybe she should go after him. But what were the odds that he would not overtake her and kill her? From what had just happened, it was obvious that she was the one the man wanted to kill. It made perfect sense, considering he was sporting Campbell colors.

  The man drew his sword. His eyes blazing with malice, he made towards the cart. Ness’s heart leapt to her throat. Possibilities raced through her mind. Had Blaine been deceiving her all along? Was this a set-up he had orchestrated?

  There was no time to wonder whose plan it was to kill her. There was no time at all. The man was drawing nearer. It did not matter whether she remained in the cart or stepped out and tried
to flee; he would surely overpower her. Before Ness could make her decision, the man appeared at the side of the cart and banged on the door, causing her to jump in fright.

  “I am here to see the laird!” she said, trembling from head to toe. “His son asked me to come here.”

  “And, foolishly, ye did.” The man grinned, revealing a set of yellowed teeth. “Ye are actually as dense as ye look. I hope Blaine remembers ye.”

  A piercing scream filled the air as the door was wrenched open. It took Ness a second to realize that it was hers, by which time the man had grabbed her arm. She tried to jerk it out of his grasp, but he was much too strong. With a snarl, he yanked her out of the cart, sending her spinning to the floor. Ness started to get up but stumbled on the hem of her gown and went crashing to the ground again. This earned a bout of laughter from her assailant, who stood over her with his sword raised, an evil gleam in his eyes.

  “Guidbye, McGregor,” he said.

  Ness heard Blaine before she saw him. The thump of footsteps filled her ears, causing her to hold her breath. Her assailant froze, too, his eyes widening. He looked up just in time to see Blaine charging towards him, a crazed look in his eyes. Before he could level his sword at him, though, Blaine slammed into him and both men crashed to the ground, kicking and cursing.

  “Naw!” Ness cried, shooting to her feet.

  Her cry startled both men, but Blaine was quicker to recover. With a grunt, he threw the man off him and rolled to his fee. Before the assailant could climb to his feet, he had drawn his sword. The assailant heard the loud shink! of Blaine’s sword sliding out of his scabbard and his eyes widened.

  “Wait, ye do not unnerstaun–” he cried.

  But Blaine would have none of that. He ran his sword through the man before he could finish his statement. The assailant stared down at the sword in his chest, then at Blaine. His eyes finally landed on Ness and turned glassy.

  Blaine sheathed his sword and turned to face her, breathing hard. “Hoo are ye?”

  ‘A’m daein fine, whit aboot yerself?” Ness gasped. She glanced at the assailant’s corpse and gave a violent shudder. Then she rushed towards him and threw her arms around his middle, burying her face into his chest. “Thank ye for saving me. If it had not been for ye, I would have been…him.”

  “He would have died more slowly if he had managed to harm ye with that sword of his,” Blaine said, sounding only slightly annoyed now.

  She had never believed he could take the life of another man. The idea had seemed revolting whenever she thought about it, the same way the idea that Alan’s wife had been murdered by William McCullough was revolting. But now, seeing the dead man on the ground, she did not feel the least repulsed by Blaine. She was shaken, but that was quite different. This was not a murder. Blaine had killed the man to save a life. Her life.

  At what point Blaine hooked his finger under her chin, tilted her head up to face him, and kissed her on the lips, she was not sure, and in that moment she did not care about anything. The kiss was amazing, and Ness found herself standing on her tiptoes, deepening the connection between her and this man who had saved her life twice…this man whom she loved…

  When they broke apart, Ness stared at Blaine’s face, slowly recovering her wits. He was staring at her intently, and she itched to kiss him again. It took almost all her willpower not to do so.

  “I…that was bonnie,” she said.

  “Whit ye do to me,” he muttered, tracing his finger along her jawline. “I never planned to fall in love with ye.”

  The words washed over her and nearly made her swoon. Blaine was in love with her. The love of her life was in love with her! That was enough to wrench the confession from her lips.

  “I…I am in love with ye, too. I dinnae want to believe it, but it is true.”

  “A Campbell and a McGregor, falling in love with each other,” Blaine said, smiling. “Who would have thought that was possible?”

  Ness laughed. Then the details of the situation suddenly came rushing back to meet her. Ness took another look at the corpse.

  “So that man knew I was coming and chose to kill me.”

  “He could not have made the decision to kill ye on his own. It does not make sense. Someone must have sent him.”

  “Who do ye suspect?”

  Blaine’s expression darkened. When he spoke, his voice sounded brittle. He was trembling with rage.

  “My father.”

  ***

  “I do not understand,” Ness said as they marched towards the castle. “Why would yer father want me dead? I thought ye said he wished to have an audience with me.”

  “That is whit I thought he really wanted,” Blaine replied through gritted teeth, “but it makes sense to me noo. He just wanted ye to return to Argyll so he would have the opportunity to kill ye.”

  He stared down at the sword in his hands. It was the bloodless sword of the man who had tried to kill his love. His was still in his scabbard. He would present the man’s sword to his father and see his reaction.

  Oh, why had he not foreseen this? Of course his father would try to kill Ness. And he had sent that man so that he could keep his hands clean. It was just the kind of thing Manfred McCullough would do.

  “If he wants to kill me, then do ye not think it a terrible idea to bring me to see him?”

  “Do not worry, he will not attack ye. Not while ye are with me.”

  On impulse, he put his arm around her and was elated when she drew closer to him. Around them, guards stopped and stared at them in confusion, but they paid them no notice and went into the castle.

  As he had guessed, his father was inside his study, but now this time he had company. Blaine’s mother stood beside him and they were talking in low tones. His father looked more feeble than Blaine remembered. It was very unsettling to see him that way. Manfred and his wife both looked up when he walked in.

  “Son,” his father said, managing a small smile; it froze the second his eyes landed on Ness.

  “Guard!” he yelled.

  There came the sound of footsteps, and a second later, the door swung open and a timid-looking guard walked in.

  “Ye called, sir?”

  “Search her,” Manfred snapped, pointing at him. “She could be carrying a weapon.”

  “Father–”

  “Be quiet, son. I am doing this for our safety. Search her!”

  The guard looked like he would rather be asked to clean out a pig’s sty, but he squared his shoulders and searched Ness. He came up, scowling, and reported that she was carrying no weapon.

  “Guid,” said the laird. “Ye may go and fetch him noo.”

  The guard nodded and left.

  “Ye must be Ness McGregor,” his mother said. She looked quite uncomfortable with Ness’s presence, but did a better job of hiding it than her husband, whose face was turning darker by the second.

  Kendra McCullough looked quite young for her age. She was taller than her husband, with dark, flowing locks and beautiful brown eyes. She wore earrings and a turquoise blue dress that swept the floor as she moved towards her son and hugged him.

  “Whit seems to be the matter, dear?” she asked, frowning at the look on his face.

  In reply, Blaine glared at his father and slammed the sword on his desk. The laird tipped his chair backwards in surprise and nearly fell over. Kendra gasped and rounded on her son.

  “Do not do such a thing like that again!” she yelled at him. “Ye nearly gave me a heart attack!”

  But she was not the one Blaine had come to exchange words with. He ignored her, still glaring at Manfred. The anger boiling inside him was enough to make him want to duel his father, but he managed to remain where he stood.

  “I should have ken ye would try to do it,” he spat.

  The laird looked at him in confusion.

  “Whit are ye talking about?” his mother wanted to ken.

  “He nearly did it!” Blaine yelled. He thought he heard Ness take a step backw
ards. Was she afraid that he would lose all control of himself and attack his father? That was a frightening possibility. Blaine tried to ignore it.

  “Nearly did whit?” Kendra pressed.

  “He sent a man to kill Ness!”

  At this, Kendra’s eyebrows rose. His father looked at him as though he could not believe his own ears. Of course. He would pretend he had nothing to do with it.

  “My son, I assure ye I had nothing to do with that.”

  “So ye ken about it!”

  “Aye.” Manfred suddenly seemed to age before his eyes. “And I ken who did it.”

  “Who?” Blaine, Kendra and Ness said in unison.

  “He is on his way here.”

  As if on cue, the door swung open, and a man sauntered in, followed by the guard who had come in earlier. He was in his mid-twenties, with lean arms and a prominent jaw. His eyes were dark and a bit sunken, but he was handsome all the same. He wore the Campbell colors and had a hand on his scabbard, prepared to draw his sword if necessary. When he saw Blaine, he grinned, and Blaine felt anger poking at the back of his skull.

  “Hello, brother,” Hiram said.

  Chapter 8

  Kendra Speaks

  The newcomer’s gaze landed on Ness; they widened and narrowed alternately. The man made a move towards her and she cringed, moving to stand behind Blaine. Two things clicked inside her head. This was Blaine’s brother. She had never met him before, but if she had, she might have mistaken him for Blaine.

  And he was the one who had tried to kill her. She could see the malice in those eyes.

  “Ye made a mistake coming here, McGregor,” he said.

  “Hiram,” Blaine said, visibly trembling with rage. “Ye sent that man to kill Ness, did ye not?”

  “Of course I did.” Hiram spread his arms and beamed. “I saw a problem, and I tried to fix it. Father told me that an army of McGregors set foot on Campbell soil because of this lass”—he gestured lazily at Ness, who shivered under his gaze—“and she dared to enter Argyll after we had been threatened by her father’s men! He told me that ye were going to meet her today, and I saw an opportunity.”

 

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