“I wouldnae lie to ye, Laird. I love yer daughter, whatever ye may think of my clan and me, and I wouldnae see any harm come to her. Not ever. Ye have my word of that. I am seekin’ Evie just the same as ye,” he replied.
“Ye intended to marry her, though. Rory witnessed yer proposal. How could ye be foolish enough to imagine that such a thing would be easy? Did ye nae think I would come lookin’ for her?” Fraser said, but Hamish shook his head.
“There is nae time for this, Laird. We must lay aside our differences and search for Evie. The night will soon come, and ‘Tis growin’ colder by the moment. Somethin’ must have happened to her along the path here. ‘Tis a lonely way and …” Hamish began.
“Then why did ye nae come and meet here?” Rory cried, releasing his hand from Hamish’s arm, and raising it as though to strike him.
But Hamish was too quick for him and shaking off Owen’s arm, he drew his sword and stepped back. Ready to fight any of them who dared challenge him further.
“I love yer sister, I love her with all my heart. Why dae ye think I have come now? I set out expectin’ to meet her, but now I find ye have traversed the rest of the path, and still, there is nay sign of her. Now, either we search for her together, and let me remind ye that ye are now on my lands and not yer own, or we go our separate ways. Make yer choice,” he said.
The others looked at one another, but it was Sweeney who spoke up—looking from Hamish to the others and back.
“It seems we can all agree on one thing. We each of us love Evie, she is my Goddaughter, and I wouldnae see a hair on her head come to harm. For now, let us put our differences aside and search for her. She must be somewhere along the path, perhaps she has got lost in the snow. But standin’ here will dae nothin’ to find her and darkness will soon draw in,” he said.
Reluctantly, the others nodded, and Hamish lowered his sword. He was grateful to Sweeney for his intervention. He wanted no further conflict, only to find Evie and know she was safe. If her father forbade their marriage, then so be it; all he wanted was to find her safe and well. What happened after that was of no importance.
“For now, let us lay our differences aside, Hamish MacBryde. We will find Evie together and call a truce for the coming hours,” Fraser said, looking to Rory and Owen, who nodded.
“Aye, but once she is found, she has much to answer for,” Rory said, and Owen agreed.
“Then let us not waste any more time in standin’ around here in the snow,” Hamish said, “if ye are certain that ye have scouted out the path back towards Kirklinton then ‘Tis clear that she made it this far. But I saw nay sign of her between here and the MacBryde castle,” Hamish said.
“The path back towards Kirklinton runs between steep side moorland. Only a fool wouldnae take the path as it is,” Owen said, looking back behind him.
“And we must assume that Evie wishes to arrive at the MacBryde castle as soon as possible. She gave nay suggestion she was goin’ elsewhere, for where else would she go?” Fraser said, and Hamish nodded.
“Aye, I have nay doubt in her sincerity. She meant to arrive with me earlier this day. The fact that she didnae is suspicious,” he said.
“Ye suspect foul play? But who …?” Rory asked, as together they set off back towards the castle of the McBryde's.
Hamish was unsure, though he had his suspicions. An idea was forming in his mind, though it was not one he wished to entertain. Isabella was a jealous woman, and the ending of their betrothal had so angered her that it seemed quite plausible that her jealousy had spilled over into revenge. He did not comment on this, but wondered where she might have taken Evie and by what means.
The Musgrave castle is too far to take a prisoner to from here, he reasoned, for Isabella’s family seat lay many miles south and back towards Kirklinton.
“I am nae sure,” Hamish replied, at last.
“Then we are simply retracin’ yer steps, and what is the point in that?” Rory asked his hostility towards Hamish clear to see.
“Peace, Rory. We will nae find Evie by arguin’ with one another,” Fraser replied.
“And ye were the one breathin’ murderous threats against him but an hour ago,” Rory replied, a comment to which his father made no reply.
Hamish knew his lands better than anyone, and though the way was blanketed in snow, he paused at a point he knew to be a fork in the path.
“Here, wait,” he said, looking around him.
Despite the fresh snow, Hamish had noticed tracks upon the ground. They were faint, almost having disappeared. But there was the unmistakable trace of footprints, and by the snowfall, they could not have been much older than an hour or so.
“What?” Rory asked, and Hamish pointed down to the ground.
“See here, footprints,” he said, and the others crowded round.
“But ‘Tis nay path here,” Fraser replied, shaking his head.
“Am I nae Laird of my own lands? There is a path here, though a lonely one used mainly by sheep. It leads through a narrow dale towards crofts some miles further on,” he said.
“But these are nae the feet of a lass. They are a soldier’s tread, a lad of some sort,” Fraser said, shaking his head and turning to the others.
“But whose? None of my soldiers would come this way alone, nae in this weather. And if this stranger has taken the path after me, then he may well have come across Evie. Ye said yerself that we were only retracin’ our steps by returnin’ to the MacBryde castle. Surely ‘Tis better to follow a strange trail, than none at all,” Hamish said.
The others looked reluctantly at one another, the two brothers looking to their father for confirmation of what to do next. Fraser sighed, glancing back and forth along the path, as though weighing up what best to do.
“Ye say that this way leads to crofts some miles off? Is there any chance that Evie is there with the crofters?” he asked, and Hamish shook his head.
“I daenae know, but we are wastin’ time again and …” he began, but just then, Sweeney let out a cry and began digging in the snow.
He pulled something out, holding it aloft in triumph.
“ Evie’s pendant. The one I gave to her on her birthday when she came of age. See, the clasp is broken, she must have …” Sweeney said, his words trailing off.
Fraser rushed to Sweeney’s side, grabbing the pendant and nodding.
“Aye, ‘Tis Evie’s. She was never without it,” he said.
“But what does it mean? Was she robbed? Set upon by bandits?” Rory said, looking at the others in horror.
“Or a sign perhaps?” her father said, looking from Hamish and back to the others.
“Whatever ‘Tis it proves one thing,” Owen said, “that Evie was here, and nae so long ago.”
The others nodded, and Hamish looked down the path, which snaked off across the moorlands beyond.
“We may nae have much time. The first of the crofts are some miles further on. Evie was here, and that surely means we are nae far behind, whatever happened to her. Quickly now, follow me,” Hamish cried, and together they hurried off down the track.
We are comin’ Evie, and we will find ye, Hamish said to himself, as he led them along the snowy path, and I will see to it that we are avenged on whatever wickedness has done this to ye.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Crispin soon left, leaving orders that the soldiers were no longer to drink and were to remain alert at all times. He had poured their liquor away, and the soldiers were angry, murmuring threats against him, as they sat by the fire.
“Who does he think he is? A Scot, giving orders to us. I have never heard of such a thing,” one of them said, and the others agreed.
“Why do we even keep an alliance with them? We, Musgraves, could crush the MacBrydes in a moment. That castle is nothing but a fortified farmhouse. The old alliance is over now that the Laird is dead. We should take their lands and be done with it. I would be the first to see that Crispin strung up on his battlements,” another of
the soldiers said, and there was a murmur of laughter around the room.
Evie had been largely ignored, and it seemed that the soldiers were more interested in their own discussions than in keeping an eye on her. She had slept a little, but the cold was now keeping her awake and try as she might, she simply could not keep warm. She was shivering, and she edged closer to the fire, watching lest the soldiers notice her.
They cannae just keep me here forever. These men are hardly goin’ to allow themselves to be billeted out here for the rest of their lives, she thought to herself, edging a little closer to the fire.
“That is close enough,” one of them said, without looking up.
“So, ye would begrudge a lass a little warmth?” she asked, and the soldier turned to her.
“We would begrudge any Scot their warmth. Now, sit back and be quiet,” he said, but Evie was in no mood to comply.
“But ye take orders from a Scot, daenae ye? Crispin MacBryde, surely a man ye count as yer enemy, but he seemed certain of himself earlier on. Ye men surely daenae take orders from one such as him,” she said.
The soldiers paused, turning to look at her. They scowled at her, and one of them rose from his place and came over to where she was sat on the edge of the bed. He caught hold of her arm, pulling her towards him and snarling.
“We take orders only from our master and not from any Scot. Do you think we wish to be here? Guarding a harlot like you? No, and we certainly do not take orders from men like Crispin MacBryde. He will get his comeuppance, just as all you Scots will,” he said.
He had his hand raised to her, but at that moment, the door to the croft opened, and the familiar cloaked figure of Isabella appeared. She looked around the room with interest, scowling as her gaze rested upon Evie and the soldier.
“Did I say that you were to harm her?” she asked, and the soldier stepped back.
“No, mistress, but the girl was giving cheek. She should be dealt with as quickly as possible,” the soldier replied.
“I am glad I have your opinion. Be quiet and go back to your dice,” Isabella replied, advancing on Evie, “if anyone is to strike her, then it will be me.”
The soldier nodded, returning to his seat by the fire and muttering something under his breath. Isabella took down her hood, shaking out her long hair, as she continued to scowl at Evie.
“How long will ye keep me here?” Evie asked, and Isabella shook her head.
“Stop asking questions. You will be here until I decide what to do with you. The more you keep asking, the less inclined I am to let you go. This ordeal will teach you a lesson, and it is one you sorely need,” Isabella said.
She had brought with her a basket containing food, and she now proceeded to eat, offering nothing to Evie, who had now eaten the stale piece of bread left out for her. It was as though Isabella was fascinated by her. She did not take her eyes off Evie, watching her as she ate, as though observing something fascinating.
“Why dae ye keep lookin’ at me like that?” Evie asked eventually, as Isabella pushed aside the remnants of her meal.
“Because I want to know what makes you so attractive to Hamish, and why he was so easily able to push me aside in favor of you. You are a plain-looking girl with little to recommend you. Why would he exchange me for you?” Isabella said.
Behind her angry demeanor, Evie could almost detect a hint of sadness in her voice. She seemed genuinely unable to see her faults and to see just why Hamish would wish himself rid of her in favor of Evie. At that moment, Evie knew she had power over Isabella, even though it was she who her prisoner was.
There was nothing which her captor could do to change the fact that it was Evie and not Isabella with whom Hamish had fallen in love. He had rejected his betrothal and taken the risk of loving Evie instead. He had never loved Isabella and Evie could not help but feel pity for the woman sat before her, a woman who seemed so blinded to her own faults that she was unable to see beyond them.
“Perhaps, Isabella, ye shouldnae look for what makes me attractive, but for what makes yerself so unattractive,” Evie replied, and she turned away from Isabella, wrapping her shawl around her and facing the wall.
The soldiers had stoked up the fire, and Isabella cursed under her breath, pushing them aside and settling herself in the chair nearest the hearth.
“We will wait until morning and then take her back to Musgrave Castle. She can be locked away for the rest of the days, or put to work like her grandmother before here. We are used to having Elliotts as our guests,” Isabella said, as the soldiers laughed.
Hamish, where are ye? Why daenae ye come? ‘Tis nearly too late, Evie said to herself, wondering if her fate was now truly sealed.
* * *
“Sweeney, Isla will be worried for us. I think ‘Tis time ye returned to Kirklinton,” Fraser said, as the party paused on the narrow path.
“If ‘Tis all the same with ye, Laird, I will keep searchin’. Isla knows that we will nae stop until we find Evie, and if there is danger, then ye shall need another sword,” Sweeney replied.
“Aye, very well, ye are right,” Fraser replied.
They had been walking for around an hour along the path. It was nearly dark now, the moon rising in the wintery sky above. The snow had stopped, the clouds clearing a little, but the way was treacherous. Hamish was at the front, and though he knew the path well enough, there were several times when he lost it or had to pause to find his bearings.
“I thought ye knew the way?” Rory said, catching up with him.
“Dae ye know every path on yer father’s land? The snow is thick, and the way is narrow. I know the way well enough, just follow me,” Hamish replied.
“Father, this lad is leadin’ us a merry chase. How dae we know he is nae leadin’ us into a trap as well? Then we shall all be as hunted beasts,” Rory said, his hand going to his sword hilt.
“It seems ye must trust me, Rory Elliott. Ye have nay other choice. Can ye nae see that I want to find Evie just as much as ye dae? If I wished to lead ye into a trap, then why would I lead ye down such a path as this and nae back to the castle? Is Evie’s pendant nae enough?” Hamish said, angered that they still did not trust him, despite everything he had done.
“Peace, Rory. It would be a risk for the Laird to lead us in this way; he knows we could stick four swords in him in an instant, and at the first sign of trouble, we shall. But what is this?” Fraser said, pausing, as a man appeared around some trees up ahead.
Hamish squinted through the gathering gloom. The man had paused, his hand on his sword hilt, clearly wondering whether to run or confront them. But in a moment, Rory and Owen had charged towards him, their swords drawn, and the man had raised his hands, begging for leniency.
“Unhand me, I mean nay harm,” he cried, and Hamish was surprised to hear the voice of his cousin Crispin, echoing along the path.
“Crispin,” he cried, hurrying forward, his hand going to his sword.
“Ye know this man?” Fraser asked, as the party now surrounded Crispin, who was held in much the same way that earlier Hamish himself had been.
“Aye, ‘Tis my cousin Crispin MacBryde. A man whom I am suspicious to find wanderin’ along this lonely path at such an hour,” Hamish said, eyeing his cousin, who scowled.
“And ye, Hamish. So, ‘Tis true,” Crispin replied, shaking his head and scowling at Hamish.
“What is true?” Hamish asked, facing him defiantly, his hand on his sword hilt.
“That the man who would be Laird of the MacBrydes is cavortin’ with our enemy. What are Elliotts doin’ on our land and under yer protection?” Crispin said, struggling in the grip of Rory and Owen.
“Hold yer tongue, Crispin. I shall see protection given to whomsoever I wish. These are my lands, and so I ask ye again, what are ye doin’ on the path here? Where is it that ye are goin’ or more so where is it that ye come from?” Hamish said, drawing his sword and holding it to Crispin’s neck.
“I owe ye nay allegiance,
and I owe ye nay explanation. If ‘Tis Evie Elliott ye look for then …” he began, but at those words, Fraser lunged forward and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck.
“Ye speak my daughter’s name, and yet we make nay mention of her. Come now, ye wicked fiend, what dae ye know of her? Have ye seen her upon the path, or have done worse to her? Speak now, for it will be the worse for ye if ye daenae,” Fraser cried.
Hamish too stepped forward as Rory and Owen released Crispin from their grip, and he fell backward into the snow.
A Highlander Born From Chaos (Highlanders 0f Kirklinton Book 2) Page 23