The Highland Commander

by Amy Jarecki

  One of the attackers stood at the entry to a horse stall, chuckling.

  Another is in there with Maddie.

  Aiden checked both ways.

  Where’s the third blighter?

  Then he looked to the smoke seeping through the shieling roof.

  In the cottage?

  He’d find out soon enough.

  Taking in a deep breath, Aiden wielded the ax over his head and rushed inside. Silently, he cleaved the first murderous varlet in two and crouched, ready for attack, as he shifted his gaze into the stall.

  The man standing over Maddie whipped around, brandishing a dirk. “What is—?” With a snort he scooted forward. “I should have plunged my blade through your heart when you were lying there like a dead man.”

  Stepping through the doorway, Aiden readied the ax and eyed his quarry. He crossed his feet in a grapevine, circling to the side. “Are you all right, Maddie?” he asked while staring at the beefy swine.

  “Aye,” she said.

  “But you won’t be.” The brute lunged forward with two hissing slashes of his knife.

  Sucking in his gut to avoid being cut open, Aiden hopped back. He hefted the ax over his head, then down in an arc. With a half-turn, he used the momentum to continue the circle, heaving an upward chop.

  The bastard hopped aside, spinning and aiming his blade at Aiden’s flank. He missed his target by a hairbreadth and stumbled toward the wall.

  Aiden saw his chance. He swung the ax and hit the blackguard square in the back.

  The man roared as he crashed face-first to the ground.

  “Arrggh!” Aiden used all the strength in his arms to dislodge the ax, then tottered back, quickly regaining his feet and raising the weapon over his head. Bellowing and baring his teeth, he lunged for the kill.

  The dirk’s blade flashed in the corner of his eye as the man rolled. Blood poured out of his mouth while he pushed himself up and slashed the knife at Aiden’s throat.

  Aiden twisted to elude the strike and stumbled off balance. Gripping the ax, he stutter-stepped into the wall.

  “No!” screamed Maddie behind him.

  Aiden used the wall to push off for another attack.

  The man staggered back.

  Both hands over her head, Maddie sprang between them.

  Aiden jerked sideways, missing her by an inch.

  The man’s dirk angled upward.

  “No!” she shrieked again, slicing a blade across the murderer’s neck. Gasping, she skittered out of the way. The black-bearded face elongated in a stunned gape. And then the man dropped to his face.

  Casting the ax aside, Aiden rushed to Maddie and wrapped her in his arms. “Thank God you’re alive.”

  “I-I-I… a-a-a-and you as well!” She leaned into him as he pressed his lips to her hair.

  “Och, I cannot believe your bravery.”

  “I-I, he-he was about to kill you.”

  “Nay, ’twas the other way around, lass. But thank the stars you saved me a wee bit o’ time.” He closed his eyes and squeezed her tighter. Dear God, he’d almost lost her. He buried his nose in her hair, breathing in her scent, the sweetness calming the savage beast within. “Come, let us away from all this death.”

  She held up her bound hands. “This rope has burned my skin raw.”

  “Christ, how many times must you end up in bondage?” He made quick work of untying her wrists. “We must make haste.”

  She rubbed her skin and hissed. “The redcoats are after us.”

  “I saw them—they’re on our trail, aye?”

  She nodded. “Captain Child alerted them.”

  “The milk-livered fiend.” Aiden looked to the stall doorway. “Where is the third man?”

  “Not certain. Bhreac said something about food when we first arrived.”

  “Then I reckon he’s in the shieling.”

  Maddie looked to the dead man. “So much blood.” She held up her stained fingers, then wiped them on the dirty straw.

  “Come.” Standing, Aiden helped the lass to her feet. “I hate to make you rush, but there will be time to clean up once we’re away from here.”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” said a menacing voice from the door.

  Aiden whipped around and dived for the ax, his fingers missing it by an inch.

  The third outlaw brandished a musket, holding it to his shoulder with a finger twitching on the trigger. He didn’t look a day over sixteen. “Halt, else you’ll be the first with a ball of lead in your belly.”

  Holding up his hands, Aiden moved in front of Maddie to protect her from a shot. “I can make you a wealthy man if you give me your weapon.” He inched forward and stretched out his palm, keeping it steady.

  The cur scooted back a step and coughed out a nervous laugh. “Right, you’re a pair of murdering tinkers, you are.”

  “You’re wrong,” Maddie said from behind. “He’s a marquis. Bhreac has his seal in his pocket.”

  When the outlaw shifted his gaze, Aiden leaped forward and grabbed the musket barrel, twisting it upward. The man’s finger closed on the trigger. An earsplitting boom blasted through the stall, followed by a shower of debris falling from the wall.

  Gnashing his teeth, Aiden continued to twist the musket until it broke from the man’s grip. Using the upward force, he smashed the butt into the outlaw’s face.

  The varlet’s head snapped back with a roll of his eyes and he toppled backward. Aiden stretched for Bhreac’s dirk and crouched over the man.

  “No.” Maddie grasped his shoulder. “He’s only a lad.”

  “Aye, and he just tried to kill us.” Aiden tapped the wastrel with the toe of his shoe. He was out cold. Satisfied, Aiden pulled Maddie out of the stall and bolted it shut. The lad could use the ax to free himself when and if he awoke. “It’ll be dark soon and safer to travel with those dragoons about. Go to the cottage and pack up whatever food you can find. I’ll collect weapons and saddle a pair of horses.”

  “Straightaway.”

  He caught her arm before she left and pulled her in for a kiss. Chuckling, he pushed the hair away from her face. “Where did you find that rusty knife?”

  “Under the straw.”

  “’Tis a miracle the thing was sharp enough to cut through flesh.”

  “Thank heavens it did.”

  He brushed his finger over her silken cheek. “Thank heavens for you, lass.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The wind blew so hard, Maddie clutched her arisaid around her shoulders and hunched behind the horse’s withers. Little good that did. Her teeth chattered and her ears hurt from the cold. She’d have given a year’s allotment just to sit before a hearth in an overstuffed chair with her feet up on a stool.

  “How are you holding up?” Aiden asked.

  She stilled her shivers long enough to answer. “I’m c-cold.”

  He looked to the east—looming and dark as the rest of the sky. “I reckon it will be dawn in a few hours.”

  “Then will we stop to rest?”

  “Aye.” When they hit a burn Aiden pulled up. He pointed. “What’s that yonder?”

  It looked like a lean-to. “An animal shelter?”

  “That’ll do. Though I wish we’d come upon a forest.”

  “I don’t think that’s likely on the borders—at least that’s what I’ve heard.”

  The sky did lighten a tad once they dismounted. Taking a few steps proved torturous. After countless hours in the saddle, everything hurt. Her movements grew sluggish. Sighing, she untied the food parcel and bedroll from the back of her horse. At least they’d found enough supplies at the shieling to manage for a time.

  Indeed, the structure they entered looked like a dilapidated animal shelter of some sort. There were holes in the roof and the ground was damp.

  Aiden tossed his bedroll against a wall. “If you can pull out some cheese and oatcakes, I’ll set to cutting rushes to make up a pallet.”

  “Very well.” Maddie couldn�
�t decide what she needed more—sleep or food. Fortunately, Aiden had made the decision for her.

  She set out the food on a linen cloth, then gathered some kindling for a fire. When she pulled out the flint, Aiden stilled her hand. “No fire.”

  “Honestly?” Her heart sank. “But it’s freezing—not just a wee bit cold. I wouldn’t be surprised if it started snowing.”

  “We’ll huddle together in the back. It’ll keep us out of the wind.”

  “No fire?” she tried again.

  “Nay, but not to worry, I’m as warm as a brazier.”

  “You’re not cold?”

  He grinned. How could his dimples look so bonny at a time like this? “I didn’t say that.”

  After their meager meal, they bedded down atop the rushes. Aiden had Maddie face the wall on her side and spooned his body behind hers. With a woolen blanket beneath and two on top, it was a great deal more comfortable than being on the horse in the wind, but nothing like the narrow feather mattress they’d shared in Coldstream.

  It didn’t matter. Maddie pushed comfort from her mind and focused on the warmth of Aiden’s body pressed against her back, the strength of his arm draped over her waist and holding her tight. Weariness made her limbs heavy, and she closed her eyes for what didn’t seem like anywhere near long enough.

  When Aiden opened his eyes, daylight shone through every crevice in the shack. He didn’t want to be awake. Aye, it was worth enduring the rock pushing into his hip to have Maddie’s soft curves spooned against his body. Her enticing bottom nestled against his loins. He closed his eyes and savored her. Even though she’d ridden through hell and had been locked in a horse stall, she still managed to smell like a vat of simmering lilacs. The only problem—if he didn’t rise and relieve himself in the next minute, Maddie wouldn’t be so happy sleeping anywhere near him ever again.

  Once he stepped outside, he moved around the corner and assumed the position. A heavenly smile turned up the corners of his lips with the release of pressure while his bladder emptied. Last night he’d hobbled the horses, and now they grazed nearby with their saddles on—an inch of snow atop them. He couldn’t be too careful with dragoons patrolling the border like red ants.

  Then his tongue went completely dry. Smoke rose in the distance. He looked closer and saw white tents dotting the hilltop. Good God, an encampment of government troops loomed not even a mile away.

  Aiden quickly adjusted himself while gaining his bearings. To the northeast the beginnings of society lined the horizon, with small farmhouses peppering the green hills. Last night they’d ridden all the way to the outskirts of Edinburgh for certain—right where Aiden wanted to be, except for the troops practically breathing on top of them.

  Slipping back into the shelter, he hated to rouse Maddie, but they needed to sneak away north as quickly as possible. He shook her shoulder. “Come, lass, we must make haste.”

  She batted his hand away. “No.”

  “Maddie, the redcoats can see us.”

  Sucking in a gasp, the lass sat bolt upright. “What did you say?”

  “Quickly. Take care of your needs whilst I roll up our things. We ride as soon as you’re ready.”

  Aiden worked fast, then used the lean-to for cover while he tied the bedrolls and food parcels behind the horses’ saddles. When Maddie reappeared, he was tightening her gelding’s girth strap. “Mount up,” he whispered. “We’ll start out nice and slow as if we were out for a Sunday ride.”

  She nodded, her eyes filled with trust.

  “Let me give you a leg up.” He cupped his hands and she stepped into them as she’d done several times now. “Remember, we are Mr. and Mrs. Grant.”

  “But do you not think the dragoons will know that from Coldstream? I’ll wager they spoke to Mrs. Swinton at the inn.”

  “Bloody hell,” Aiden cursed. But Maddie was right. “Let’s use Armstrong. That’s a good Lowland name. Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong from Ayrshire.” He mounted and took up his reins. “You ready, lass?”

  “I am, and once the redcoats are well behind us I’ll pay you a guinea to sleep on a real bed this night.”

  “Do you have one?”

  “Not here, but I have several in my hiding place at home.”

  “Aye, so you’re a hoarder, are you?” He chuckled, trying to look normal while glancing back at the dragoons’ camp.

  “I’m practical. I’d call it saving for an emergency.”

  Aiden cringed as red-coated riders crested the hill. “Well, lass, you’d best gird your loins, ’cause we’re having an emergency of our own just about now.”

  When Maddie turned her head, she gasped. “Do you think we should make a run for it?”

  “Nay. Let us go with the plan. If we run they’ll suspect us for certain.” Aiden steered his mount around a stone so he wouldn’t appear obvious when he again looked back. There were a bloody dozen of them. “Pray they make a turn and leave us be.”

  Unfortunately, their praying had little effect. Within a mile the redcoats stopped them.

  Aiden pulled on his reins while Maddie did the same beside him. “Good morrow, soldiers. May I help you with something?” he asked, rolling his r’s with a Highland brogue thick enough to be mistaken for a Shetlander’s.

  “We’re looking for a pair of riders—a man and a woman much like yourselves,” said a dragoon dressed in a sergeant’s uniform.

  Aiden frowned and scratched the stubble on his chin. “I’d reckon you see a number of couples traveling on any given day.”

  “What is your name?” asked the sergeant.

  Aiden looked the man in the eye, affecting his most sober expression. “Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong from Ayrshire.”

  “What brings you all the way to the Lothians?”

  “Vising my wife’s kin in Dunbar—a-a wedding.”

  Maddie smiled and nodded as a good wife ought.

  “Hmm.” The sergeant looked warily at the lass. “And from where in Ayrshire do you hail?”

  Aiden’s mind raced. He’d sailed past Ayr a few times—that would have to do. “Ayr, of course.”

  “Then you must know the governor. He’s a good friend of mine.”

  Damnation, the dragoon was persistent. “Nay, I cannot say I’ve had the pleasure of meeting him face-to-face.”

  The sergeant squinted. “Tell me, what’s the governor’s name?”

  Good God, mayhap Aiden should have omitted the face-to-face part. He made eye contact with Maddie and gave her a sharp nod, praying she’d know what he meant. “Forgive me, but I cannot remember, sir.”

  The man pointed to a pair of sentinels. “I’m afraid we’ll need to take you to Edinburgh Castle for further questioning and proper identification.”

  “Not this day.” Aiden kicked his heels while he slapped Maddie’s steed’s backside. Breaking through the circle of soldiers, they took up a gallop. Once free, Aiden chanced a backward glance. Good lass, Maddie stayed right on his heels. But the dragoons were not far behind.

  With no time to talk, Aiden slapped his reins and kicked his heels, praying for a miracle.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Froth coated the horse’s neck while he snorted loudly with exertion. No matter how hard Maddie kicked her heels, with every step her mount lost ground to Aiden’s larger, faster horse.

  Her heart thundered as the redcoats drew nearer.

  Ahead Aiden’s hackney splashed through a burn.

  Gripping her gelding’s mane, Maddie leaned farther forward and requested a jump. The horse’s rear dipped as the beast skidded to a stop. Holding on for dear life, she dug in her heels. “Go, go, go!”

  “Not this time.” Thundering up from behind, a soldier reached for her bridle.

  At the top of the hill, Aiden turned.

  “Don’t bother with him.” The sergeant waved a dismissive hand. “The missive we received from London this morn said they want the girl.”

  As a dragoon locked her wrists in manacles, her heart sank. No matter w
hat they did, it was her destiny to be marched up to the gallows and hanged with her hands bound. “I am innocent,” she said.

  “Aye?” The man clicked a padlock in place. “That’s what they all say.”

  Perhaps they are all innocent. I would believe that, given the sham by which I have been accused.

  When Aiden realized Maddie had been caught, it was too late. Riding to her rescue and fighting a dozen dragoons would be suicide, and then she’d have no one to fight for her. He followed at a distance, but when the troops turned east on Glasgow Road, it was clear they were taking her to Edinburgh Castle, and he opted for a more circuitous route to the city—one where he’d be less conspicuous.

  Now he sat at the back of an alehouse on Grassmarket Street, staring into a tankard of ale and weighing his options.

  The sound of heavy boots clomped toward his table, and a big Highlander stopped beside him, wearing a bold kilt and a sword sheathed at his waist.

  Aiden slipped his hand to his dirk while his gaze moved from the man’s belt up to his broad torso. “You’re blocking my view.”

  “Och, Murray. The last time I saw you, you were kicking my arse at Whitehall.”

  Good Lord, Reid MacKenzie, the Earl of Seaforth, had put on about two stone of muscle. Springing to his feet, Aiden shook his friend’s hand. “Bloody oath, ’tis good to see you.”

  “Is your ship moored in the Forth?”

  Aiden gestured to the seat opposite. “Nay. I’ve been beached. Regrettably, my brother was killed on the Continent, making me the Marquis of Tullibardine.”

  “Marquis?” Seaforth gestured for the barmaid to bring two ales. “You outrank me.”

  “Mayhap, but I could use your help.”

  The earl’s mouth twisted with curiosity. “Aye?”

  Leaning forward, Aiden lowered his voice and relayed everything, including Maddie’s run-in with Blackiron and Saxonhurst at the ball.

  When Aiden finished, Seaforth sat back. “Blackiron and Saxonhurst are snakes for certain. They deserve each other if you ask me. And you say a chandelier fell after it had been lowered for cleaning?”

  Aiden took a swig of ale. “Aye, it could have fallen for any number of reasons, with sabotage being the least likely.”