Highlander's Heart

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Highlander's Heart Page 17

by Amanda Forester


  “I sent them to bed.”

  “Which is where you should be. Please let me help you—”

  “Nay!”

  “Stubborn Highlander! You can hardly stand on your feet and you are about to take us both down. Look, there is a hayloft; at least lie down for a few hours, rest to regain your strength and some sense.”

  “One hour. No more,” he grumbled.

  “Fine, fine. You will be better able to find her after some sleep.”

  Isabelle pointed Campbell in the right direction and he hauled himself up a short ladder to a raised section of the barn where the hay was kept. He crawled back to the wall far from the edge and collapsed on the fresh hay.

  Isabelle followed him up and watched him for a moment. His eyes were already closed and he breathed deep. On impulse she removed her cloak and laid it out over him. She was rewarded with a brief, faint smile.

  “Cait was very kind to me. I will pray you find her soon,” she whispered.

  Campbell opened a tired eye and took her hand in his. “Please do.”

  Isabelle was slightly surprised at the request, but bowed her head. This was perhaps not the moment to mention that God never heard her prayers, or at least never bothered to answer them. Maybe with Campbell present God would be more receptive.

  “Dear Lord, please allow your servant Campbell to find Cait tomorrow and please let her be safe and well. Amen.” Isabelle looked up cautiously. The prayers of her priest where always much longer, and she wondered if Campbell would find her simple prayer lacking.

  He squeezed her hand. “Thank ye.”

  “I will ask the sisters to pray for you too, and I can light a candle in the chapel for you.” Isabelle wanted to do something to help.

  “Thank ye. I would appreciate it if ye would. My brothers and sisters, they are everything to me.” He gently squeezed her hand again and closed his eyes. “Everything.”

  Isabelle reached over with her other hand and touched his stubbled cheek. “You will find her. I believe you can do anything.”

  A slow smile spread across his lips. “I protest this scandalous treatment of my person.”

  Isabelle smiled in return, recognizing her own words to him from the inn. She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Good night, David.”

  “Good night, Edna.” Without opening his eyes David wrapped his arm around her, encouraging her to lie down next to him, and cuddled her close.

  Isabelle considered breaking free. His breathing was soon slow and steady, and his arm around her relaxed. She should return to her sleeping cell, but the hay was a more comfortable bed and she was warm, snuggled next to Campbell. It was only for an hour, she reasoned. What harm could it possibly do?

  ***

  “Day!” Campbell shouted.

  “W-what?” said Isabelle, sitting bolt upright.

  “’Tis light. Ye were only supposed to let me sleep an hour!” Campbell slung himself down from the hayloft, leaving her cloak strewn across the hay without so much as a thank you.

  “Well! A good morn to you too!” Isabelle struggled down the short ladder and smoothed her gown.

  “There you are!” Campbell’s brother Dain marched into the stable followed by his brothers and several other men. The men looked at Isabelle, then at Campbell, then back at her.

  No one said anything, but her cheeks burned in the frosty morning air. With as much dignity as she could muster under the circumstances, Isabelle walked toward the door, but her way was blocked by a tall, handsome knight.

  “Laird Campbell, I insist you introduce me to your charming friend,” said the man in a slight French accent.

  Behind her, Isabelle swore she could hear Campbell’s teeth grind.

  “Lady Tynsdale, may I present Sir Chaumont,” said Campbell tersely.

  “Lady Tynsdale, it is indeed a pleasure.” The French knight swept her a graceful bow. “I do hope you found the hay comfortable.”

  “N-no,” stammered Isabelle. “I am simply passing through. Now please let me pass.”

  “A thousand pardons, my lady.” He reached toward her and plucked a strand of hay from her hair. “I never will understand English fashion.”

  The men broke into loud guffaws of laughter. Isabelle pressed her lips together and stormed from the stable, leaving the chortles of the men behind her. Her face burned at being caught in such a compromising situation, though this time she could honestly say they had done nothing but sleep. Despite her embarrassment, she was laughing too before she reached her tiny quarters. What a sight she must have been!

  Isabelle silently wished Campbell well on his hunt. She knew he would find Cait. He must. And then he would leave her life forever. Isabelle’s smile faded slowly in the stark, cold, morning light.

  Twenty-Two

  Andrew led Alys on horseback to a place he knew. It was his favorite place, a place he retreated to when he needed to think, or simply escape the daft schemings or angry musings of his siblings. It was at the southern edge of their land, next to the territory of MacLaren and Graham, but to Andrew it was the most beautiful place in the whole of Scotland, and there was no better spot for what he intended to do.

  After several hours in the saddle, Andrew stopped, tied the horses and lifted Alys to the ground. She felt good in his arms and he was in no hurry to let her go.

  “Are ye going to show me why we’ve come all this way or just hold me all day?” Alys smiled up at him and made no attempt to be freed from his embrace.

  “Hold ye. Most assuredly I’ll be holding onto ye. But I warrant I ought to show ye this place.”

  Andrew took her willing hand and walked up the hill. At the top were several old trees, with low branches worn smooth over the years from climbing its leafy arms. Below them stretched a green valley, lush and full. The valley was alive and moving, the leaves fluttering in the wind, the sea of heather rippling like waves on an ocean of flowers. The world smelled fresh and alive with possibility. Andrew breathed deeply of lavender, green grass, and rich, dark earth.

  “’Tis wondrous,” said Alys, turning around in circles. She smiled at him and continued spinning, her eyes bright as a child’s.

  “I’m glad ye like it,” said Andrew softly. Of all the beauty before him, none was more than Alys’s. Her blond hair flew around her in the breeze, her arms outstretched as she spun. Laughing, she collapsed in a dizzy heap, her gown billowing out around her. Andrew knelt before her. He had never felt this way before. Never had he wanted anything more than the beautiful lass before him.

  “Marry me, Alys.” The words tumbled out before he could catch them. He had carefully planned a beautiful speech for this occasion, and he had a lad who was to follow him with a basket meal. They were supposed to eat and then he would propose, but now he had gone and blurted out the ending.

  Alys did not look pleased. Her smile faded and her blue eyes stared at him in wide surprise.

  “Pardon, I meant to say that better. I ne’er met anyone like ye. I’m so happy when ye are near, I ne’er wish to be parted. I ken I have little to give, and perhaps ye may have no dowry, but I care not. All I want is ye.”

  ***

  Cait’s happy world crumbled. Before her was the man she loved. He asked her to marry him. But it was impossible. Reality smashed back into her with a painful slap. She was Lady Caitrina Campbell, not Alys, and she was betrothed to another man.

  “Nay, stop, this canna be.” Cait stood up fast and backed away from him, but there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to run from the crushing truth. Andrew stood slowly. He stared at her with large, sad eyes. “Dinna look at me that way,” she pleaded. Her eyes were starting to burn.

  “Alys, I love ye—”

  “Nay, dinna say that. Please, ye dinna even know my name.”

  “What are ye saying, lass? Whatever be yer name, I wish ye to be my wife.”r />
  “I wanted to tell ye, honest I did.” Cait wiped tears away with an impatient swipe of her hand. “I ne’er meant for it to come to this. But I was afraid if I told ye the truth we could no’ be together.”

  “No matter what yer truth is, I will be wi’ ye. What could be so terrible ye would think it would keep me away?”

  Cait shook her head and looked down. “Ye dinna even know my name.”

  Andrew closed the gap between them, catching her elbows and pulling her close. She gasped and looked up at him.

  “What is yer name?” Andrew’s face had gone hard, his eyes narrow. Cait struggled against him, but he held her fast with ease.

  “What is yer name?” he repeated.

  “Cait.”

  “Tell me, Cait, what do ye wish from me? If ye have been doing naught but deceiving me wi’ yer kisses tell me now.”

  “And what would ye do if I had?”

  Andrew’s face went dark. “I’d ride ye back to Campbell himself and take my leave o’ ye. For I’d rather be damned than to look at yer deceitful face e’er again.”

  Cait swallowed hard.

  “I ask ye again. What do ye wish from me? I have spoken the desires o’ my heart, what o’ yers?”

  “I wish… I would so much like to accept yer offer, Andrew McNab, and be yer wife.”

  Andrew’s face seemed to crack and the frozen mask shattered. He smiled a big, lopsided grin, looking as much a boy as a man. “Then so ye shall. I do love ye, Alys… er… Cait.”

  Cait smiled though she knew he did not understand the truth. “And I love ye, Andrew, truly I do. I ne’er meant to hurt ye—”

  Andrew claimed her mouth and Cait melted into his embrace. He felt so good, so strong. And he kissed so well it was easy to forget the problems that stood between them. Perhaps it was possible?

  Cait was jerked back and let out a scream of surprise. Men’s voices, loud and cursing, filled her ears drowning out her own screams. She fought the arms around her, screaming for Andrew.

  “Cait. Cait!” She froze at the familiar voice and looked up into her brother’s eyes. David Campbell had come for her at last.

  “David?” How had he found her? Why was he here now?

  David Campbell searched her face. “Are ye well? Ye’re safe now, no one will harm ye.”

  “I am well, Brother,” she said, or at least she tried to but was muffled by a large bear hug from her brother. When he finally released her she saw Andrew on his knees being held securely by three of her brother’s men.

  “Cait?” Andrew’s eyes were wide.

  “Andrew, I wanted to tell ye…”

  “Lady Cait?” he asked, his face shattered with betrayal.

  “Ye’ll no’ be talking to the lady,” said one man and struck Andrew on the jaw.

  Andrew looked at Cait for a moment longer, mournful and accusing. He spat blood and closed his eyes.

  David Campbell drew his sword with a deathly ring of steel.

  “For abducting and molesting the Lady Cait Campbell, I sentence ye to—”

  “Nay, wait!” Cait rushed to her brother and held onto his sleeve. “He dinna kidnap me. Dinna hurt him.”

  “I saw him molest ye, Cait,” David said, his voice tight. “Gill! Finn! Take her away, she ought no’ see this.”

  Cait’s brothers each grabbed one of her arms and gently, but firmly, pulled her away.

  “Nay, wait,” she cried as she was dragged back down the hill. “Dinna hurt him. Please listen to me. He’s no’ the one, David. Dinna kill him!”

  “Take her home, lads,” commanded Campbell. “Take some men, see her safe to Innis Chonnel.”

  Cait was loaded most unwillingly onto a mount and carried away. She screamed until her voice was hoarse, and there was no chance of David hearing her anyway. Silent tears ran tracks down her face as her kinsmen took her home.

  ***

  Archibald McNab returned home a happy man. His horse clopped down the road at a lazy walk, and McNab felt no desire to quicken the pace. In his arms was the most beautiful lady he had ever beheld. He had done it. Finally, one of his plans had actually worked. He had taken the Lady Cait to a hermit he knew who lived in a cave in the high places. There Cait had done the incredible and consented to be his wife. For a basket of smoked pork, the hermit had performed the ceremony. It wasn’t quite as good as a real priest, but it was good enough. And Cait had been more than willing to consummate their union in a secluded hunting cottage. Warm tingles ran up his spine. What a bedding it had been. She was his now, no doubt about that.

  McNab breathed easily for the first time in a long while. He would convince Cait to tell her brother he had rescued her, and with her help get Campbell to accept their marriage. Her dowry would provide the means for his clan to struggle back from the depths of poverty. And best of all, he could stop working for the coldhearted abbot. McNab gave an involuntary shudder at the thought of the abbot’s last message, causing his mount to sidestep and nicker in disapproval.

  McNab patted his mount’s neck to calm him. The McNab tower house was in sight. What a celebration they would have tonight.

  “McNab! McNab!” Clansmen were running out to greet him. How nice. It wasn’t every day he received this kind of reception. He kicked his mount to gallop the short distance home.

  “McNab! Yer brother’s been taken!”

  McNab trotted through the gate with a broad smile. How they will all celebrate the… what had the anxious-looking man said?

  “Andrew, he’s been taken!”

  “What?” McNab jumped down from his saddle and grabbed Cait to stand by his side.

  “I saw it,” said a breathless lad. “Andrew said he would be taking Alys to a glen. He said I was to follow them to bring a basket of food. He said it would be romantic.”

  McNab rolled his eyes. His brother had odd notions sometimes. Must be that university training. “What happened to Andrew, quick now.”

  “I was coming o’er the hill and I heard screaming, so I took cover. There were a bunch o’ men, several had Andrew, a few more was dragging Alys away, and she was screaming something fierce.”

  “Who was it? Who took them?”

  “It was the Campbell, or at least I heard a man call him that.”

  Despite the cool breeze, McNab broke into a sweat. “And Andrew, what did they do to him?”

  “They tied him to a horse and rode him off heading south.”

  McNab’s mind spun. “Saddle a fresh horse, I need to get to Andrew before Campbell kills him.”

  “That’s no’ all, my laird. Campbell called Alys the Lady Cait. I dinna ken why.”

  Andrew froze. He turned to Cait, his wife. She had gone very still and very pale. “Who are ye?”

  Silence gripped the courtyard, a tattered banner fluttered in the breeze. His wife, the savior of his clan, stared at him with wide, brown eyes. Her bottom lip trembled.

  “I am Alys.”

  McNab closed his eyes and took a step back to steady himself. His world shattered like glass. He covered his eyes with his hand. They were all dead.

  “Why? Why did ye do it?” McNab’s plaintive question gripped his soul.

  “I wanted to tell ye the truth, but I needed to protect my lady.”

  “But why agree to be my wife? Why give me hope only to crush me? Ye dinna need to do any o’ it.”

  Alys stood tall, her eyes flashing, her fists balled at her sides. “Nay, I dinna need to, but I wanted to. Ye were so kind to me, and so braw. I wanted ye, Laird McNab. I saw my chance and I took it. I do ask forgiveness, for I ken I have done ye wrong. But I will ne’er regret it.”

  McNab stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. It had all been some twisted game. He shook his head. Nothing mattered now, except getting Andrew back. “Take her to Campbell, or drop her close
enough that she can walk the rest, I dinna want anyone else captured.”

  “Nay, wait. I know I’ve played ye false, but ye did kidnap us,” said Alys.

  “Aye. Who am I to accuse anyone o’ sin? Go home wi’ my blessing, I hold ye no ill will.” The words ground from McNab’s mouth like sand.

  “Nay, I am yer wife. I’ll stay wi’ ye.” Alys stepped toward him, her arms outstretched. “If… if ye’ll still have me.”

  “I dinna ken what ye’re about. Why would ye want me?”

  “I could go home and continue serving the Campbells, but though we are a prominent family, my father likes me in my current position and has no desire to see me wed. Ye are my one chance to be married. To have a family. And ye clearly need someone looking after ye.” Alys reached tentatively for his hand. “In my heart, I wish to be yer wife.”

  McNab put his arms around Alys and drew her close. He did not mean to, nor even wish to, but he needed to hold her. “Ye are sure ye wish to be wed to the likes o’ me?”

  “If ye can promise more beddings like today,” whispered Alys, “then, aye, I do.”

  Warmth returned to McNab, radiating out from his rapidly beating heart. “I warrant I was no’ intended to wed a rich wife. If I do return, I expect to find ye waiting for me in my bedchamber.”

  Alys smiled and pressed against him. “This is all I have to give ye and I do it willingly.”

  McNab bent down to claim his lady in a kiss. She was indeed warm and willing. It was likely more than he deserved.

  “This is my lady wife,” McNab announced to the crowd in the courtyard. “She may stay or leave as she pleases. Anyone who discomforts her will deal wi’ me.” McNab released her and mounted the fresh horse the stable lad had brought.

  “Wait, I’m coming wi’ ye!” Morrigan ran down the steps to the courtyard.

  “Nay, I go alone.”

  “Andrew is in danger, I will go.”

  “Nay, Morrigan. I need ye here.” He caught his sister’s gaze. “Protect them.” McNab spurred his mount and raced from the castle walls. He did not look back.

  He doubted he would ever see any of them again.

 

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