A Wee Highland Predicament

by Ceci Giltenan

  But they were Galbraiths with mediocre skills at best.

  However, six second-rate warriors against one reasonably skilled man was still six to one and she wasn’t his concern.

  He’d nearly talked himself out of doing anything until he looked up the track and saw her face again. Her eyes were red-rimmed as if she’d been crying.

  She was terrified and no matter how many of them there were, he couldn’t just abandon her.

  Still, honor and bravery meant very little in the absence of cleverness and good judgement. Lucas knew he couldn’t just ride forward and confront them. He’d follow at a distance, until they made camp. He’d been fairly certain they’d only leave one man standing watch and he might be able to make a move then. If not, he had planned to just keep following them until his brother’s men caught up. He wasn’t really in a hurry to get back to Castle Grant anyway.

  Several hours later, at twilight, they had crossed the River Carron and the Galbraiths turned westward, venturing into the forest. Of course they had headed west. They were on their way home. If Lucas followed the Galbraiths, there was no hope of his brother’s men finding him. They would assume he’d be heading north towards Castle Grant.

  Nevertheless Lucas had followed. When they reached a bend in the river, the men stopped, clearly intending to make camp among the trees on the bank.

  Lucas had smiled to himself. It was certainly more convenient to camp directly beside a source of water. But the noise made by the gurgling river masked any sounds of movement in the nearby forest. This was perfect. Once everyone was asleep, he could incapacitate the guard, steal the lass and be well away by the time they realized what had happened.

  He had ridden far enough back the way he’d come so as not to be detected. Then he turned northward, riding about a half mile before circling back towards the river.

  He removed Captain’s saddle, rubbed him down, allowed him to have his fill of water, and gave him a feedbag of oats. Lucas too, ate several oatcakes and some dried beef.

  As night fell, he prayed the sky would remain clear, so he could safely escape with the Galbraiths’ captive. After waiting several hours, he had saddled Captain again. “Lad, I think we’ve given them enough time to settle down. I’ll just tether ye to this tree so all’s ready to make our escape when I get back here with her.” Then he made his way downstream towards the Galbraith’s camp.

  Now here he was.

  Aye, this was his brother’s fault.

  And Moira MacNaughton’s.

  But mostly his brother’s.

  And the damned Galbraiths who stole the girl.

  They really were idiots. They had lit a fire. Not only was the smoke a beacon leading him to the exact location of their camp, the merrily crackling fire, added to the sound of moving water, further masked any small noise he might make. And, as he’d expected, all but one man was bedded down.

  He watched the scene for several long moments trying to determine the best approach. The man assigned to the first watch sat near the fire, his sleeping clansmen surrounding him. Lucas knew he could take out the watchman with little effort. However, disabling him without awakening any of the other men would be a challenge and if he failed and had to battle all six men at once, it could be disastrous.

  He shifted his attention back to the lass. Her chestnut colored hair hung in a riot of soft curls around her dirt-smudged face. She was lovely and in spite of his misgivings he knew he had to at least try to rescue her. He didn’t like her chances with this lot.

  Unfortunately, not only could Lucas see her clearly in the light, so could the watchman. It would be impossible to free her without being seen. As he weighed his options, he saw the watchman’s head bob. He smiled slowly and thanked the Almighty for this bit of luck. If the man hadn’t established his post so close to the warmth of the fire, he wouldn’t have fallen asleep as easily. But then Lucas would have slit his throat by now, so the guard’s lapse might just prove to be a blessing. Within five minutes his head slumped forward and a few minutes later, his snore blended with the rest.

  Lucas made a wide circle around the camp in order to approach the lass from behind. As soon as he reached the tree, he put a hand behind her head and the other over her mouth.

  Just as he’d feared, she awoke instantly. Her head snapped back against his right hand as his left hand smothered her cry of alarm.

  “Be still, lass. My name’s Lucas and I’m trying to rescue ye from these sleeping eejits. If ye start shrieking, ye’ll give us away.”

  She nodded her understanding, curls bobbing around her face.

  He let go of her, sliced her bonds with his dirk, and helped her stand. He put a finger over his lips, and guided her silently away from the camp.

  When they were well away from the Galbraiths, he stopped for a moment. “The faster we can get away from them, the better it will be for both of us. My horse is hidden just a bit farther north from here. Ye’re just a wee thing and we’ll get to him sooner if I run with ye on my back.”

  She looked affronted. “I can run.”

  “In those?” He pointed to the dainty slippers on her feet.

  She frowned. “No, I don’t suppose so.”

  “I thought not.”

  He turned away from her, kneeling on one knee. “Put yer arms around my neck.” When she’d done that, he reached back, put his hands behind her knees and stood, pulling her knees forward around his hips. She was as light as he expected.

  She gave a shocked gasp. “I’m not in the habit of wrapping my legs around strange men.”

  “Are ye in the habit of getting yerself kidnapped?”

  “Nay, of course not.”

  “Then it’s a night of firsts for ye. We’ll celebrate later. Hang on.”

  He started running, reaching the place where he’d tethered Captain in no time.

  He stooped to lower her to the ground. “All right, my fair, wee lassie, up ye get on this beastie’s back now.”

  He lifted her into the saddle, swung up behind her and headed northward, leaving the River Caron behind.

  “Where are we going?”

  “As far away from those thieving Galbraiths as we can get before they awaken.”

  “I could work that much out on my own. But which direction?”

  “North.”

  “North? I can’t go north. We need to head back to Edinburgh.”

  “Is that where they snatched ye?”

  “Aye.”

  “Then don’t ye suppose that’s where they’d expect ye to go? And when they wake to find ye gone, that’s the direction they’ll search?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Then wouldn’t it make sense to go a different direction?”

  “Aye, but I have to get back to Edinburgh.”

  “Which raises the question, what’s a wee lassie from the Highlands doing in Edinburgh? Ye can’t be more than fifteen.”

  “I’m eighteen,” she said, indignantly. “And I was there—at court—with my family.”

  “And who is yer family?”

  “I’m a MacLennan. Laird MacLennan is my brother by marriage. I’m Ailsa MacLennan. What clan are ye from, Lucas?”

  Lady MacLennan’s sister? By all the saints, the Galbraiths had managed to find a valuable prize. From everything Lucas had heard about Laird Fingal MacLennan, he tended to be overprotective to a fault. He must have let his guard down in the royal court. Well, their loss was his gain. There was no love between the Grants and the MacLennans and this wee morsel would bring the Grants as much ransom as she would the Galbraiths. Of course, she didn’t need to know that, so he’d have to tread carefully.

  “My mother was a Macrae.” That was perfectly true. Furthermore, the MacLennans and the Macraes were on reasonably good terms.

  “Well, thank ye, Lucas Macrae, for saving me from that lot.”

  “’Twas my pleasure. But how did they manage to capture ye anyway?”

  She remained silent.

  “Ail
sa, I asked ye a question. How did ye end up as a prisoner of the Galbraiths?”

  “That isn’t important. Ye need to take me back to Edinburgh now.”

  “Nay, lass. There were six of them and only one of me. If we run into them again, I couldn’t keep ye safe.”

  “But…”

  “Nay, no buts. I’ll not argue with ye about it. We’re going north.”

  “Fine. Take me to the nearest village. Ye can leave me there and I’ll find someone else to take me back to Edinburgh.”

  “Ye’re a bossy, wee thing aren’t ye?”

  She looked over her shoulder at him and frowned. “Ye sound like my sister, Gillian. I’m not trying to be bossy, but my family—”

  “Will not thank me for leaving the laird’s sister-in-law on her own in some godforsaken village in the lowlands.” They probably wouldn’t thank him for ransoming her either, but that was beside the point. “Do ye know what could happen to ye? I give ye my solemn word that ye’re safe with me. It’s better if I just take ye home.”

  “Home?”

  “Aye. Home.” He meant his home, but again, she didn’t need to know that.

  “Brathanead is at least four days ride from here. Perhaps ye could just take me to Castle Carr? The Carrs are our allies and we stopped there on our way south. If we ride the rest of the night we could be there by sunset tomorrow.”

  “Nay, we can’t go to Castle Carr. The Carrs and the Macraes are not allies. I wouldn’t be welcome there.” That wasn’t completely true. There was no formal relationship between the Carrs and the Macraes but neither were they enemies. But this young woman was not likely to be well-versed on clan politics. The Grants and the Carrs had allied themselves nearly eighty years ago through marriage, but that bond had weakened over time. Still, none of that really mattered. Nothing under God’s blue heaven would make Lucas hand this little treasure over to anyone. He was returning home without a betrothal. William wasn’t going to be happy, but the ransom Laird MacLennan’s sister-in-law would bring might go a long way to soothing his ire. “The best plan is for me to take ye home.”

  “Ye may think it’s the best plan, but I don’t. If we can’t go to Castle Carr, and ye won’t take me back to Edinburgh, I’ll go by myself.”

  He snorted. “Have ye taken leave of yer senses?”

  “Nay. I’m sure I can do it. It’s not that far. I insist ye let me go back to Edinburgh.”

  He could see this was going to be a never-ending argument unless the lass herself decided it was best to stay with him. He’d go along with her and see what happened.

  “Well, if ye insist.” He dismounted and lifted her off the saddle. “There ye are. Off ye go, now. Edinburgh is that way.” He pointed in the direction from which they had come.

  “Ye want me to walk?”

  “Nay, lass. I want ye to ride north with me. But if ye insist on going to Edinburgh alone, it’ll have to be on yer own two feet, because Captain and I are heading north.”

  “Ye won’t lend him to me?”

  “Nay, I won’t.”

  “Why? I’d see him returned to ye.”

  Lucas laughed, mirthlessly. “Now that’s a promise ye can’t make. Because as sure as we’re standing here, ye’re going to run afoul of someone—most likely those Galbraiths—and Captain will be taken as a prize too. So nay, where I go, he goes.”

  She frowned and huffed and he had trouble hiding his amusement. Where Moira’s pouting and fits of pique grated on his last nerve, Ailsa MacLennan was adorable. Perhaps it was the smudge of dirt on her nose, or her wild curls, but it was hard to take her seriously. Still, he schooled his features. “Be on yer way, lass. I’ll keep an eye on ye until I can see ye no more.”

  As she stood there, her frown deepened. “I need to go back to Edinburgh,” she said, sounding as if she were trying to convince herself.

  “Then go on.”

  “I can do it, just watch me.”

  It took every effort not to laugh. “I’m watching, but ye haven’t moved yet.”

  “Nay, but I’m going now.” She turned and walked several paces away from him before stopping.

  “Is something the matter?” Lucas feigned innocence.

  She looked down. “Aye, it’s my slippers.”

  “What about them?”

  “They aren’t really suited for walking.”

  “Nay, indeed they aren’t.”

  She turned back to face him. “I could walk back to Edinburgh if it weren’t for my shoes.”

  And the half dozen Galbraiths looking for ye. “No doubt. I’d say ye face a wee predicament. No horse to ride and no fit shoes to walk in.”

  “I suppose I should let ye take me home…because of my shoes.”

  “Aye, that would seem to be prudent…because of yer shoes.”

  She sighed, walked back to him and allowed him to lift her onto Captain’s back. Once mounted behind her, he nudged the stallion into a walk.

  This might prove to be one of the most interesting trips home ever.

  Chapter 2

  Ailsa hadn’t known what else to do. She felt sure she could have made it back to Edinburgh if she’d tried. She could probably have avoided the Galbraiths.

  Probably.

  She had been so terrified when she realized she’d been kidnapped. She didn’t want to risk it. Besides, if Fingal ever learned that she had set off on her own to return to Edinburgh, he would be furious.

  He’d be furious when he found out about all of this anyway. She did love him, but he took things so seriously. For years she had wanted to go with them to Edinburgh. Her mother had absolutely forbidden it. She remembered trying to get Fingal to agree to take her.

  “Ye’re the laird, Fingal. If ye say I can go, there’s nothing mama can do.”

  “But I don’t think ye should go either. Edinburgh is a dangerous place in many ways and even more so for a young lass. I promise ye can go when ye’re older.”

  Then her mother had died suddenly two years ago. Gillian and Fingal had become Ailsa’s guardians, but they still believed she was too young to go to the royal court.

  She’d turned eighteen in August and she wanted to go so very badly. But she hadn’t even asked this year. She felt sure they’d say nay again because Gillian wasn’t going. She’d given birth to their fourth child in June.

  Ailsa knew the only way she’d be able to go was if one of her sisters was going too. Her other sister, Fallon, was married to one of Fingal’s captains. Although she almost never went, Ailsa had begged her.

  “Fallon, ye know Fingal won’t take me if Gillian isn’t going. But if ye go, he might. Please, think about it. I really want to go.”

  In the end, Fallon said that she would go if that would make Fingal relent about Ailsa going. It felt like it had taken an eternity for Gillian and Fingal to finally agree to let her go and now the Galbraiths had ruined everything. Still, if she could have gotten back before Fingal knew she was gone, everything would have been fine. But she had to be honest with herself, by now there was positively no hope of that. She’d been gone long enough that there was no longer any chance of keeping Fingal in the dark.

  “He’ll never let me go back,” she muttered.

  “Laird MacLennan?”

  “Aye.”

  “Maybe he should have been more diligent about guarding ye.”

  “More diligent? Fingal? I had a guard at my elbow all of the time.”

  “Then how did ye wind up in the hands of the Galbraiths?”

  That was a fair question. “It was my own fault,” she answered miserably.

  He chuckled. “Let me guess, ye didn’t like the fact that ye couldn’t take a breath without a guard knowing it and ye managed to elude him during the Michaelmas celebration.”

  “Aye. How did ye know?”

  “Ah, lass, it wasn’t hard to guess. Ye seem to have a wee stubborn streak.”

  She sighed. “It’s just that I’ve had a guard within shouting distance since I was twelv
e. When I was younger it was fun to try to escape them. I never went far. It was fun figuring out how I might trick them. So I did it that night. I just didn’t see what harm could come to me among so many people. ”

  “And what happened?”

  “I was dancing with one of the Galbraith guardsmen.” She sighed. He’d been very handsome. “With all of those people and the dancing…well, it was rather warm. He brought me a tankard of ale and we left to get a bit of air.”

  “Ye left the safety of those many people, to go off with a man ye barely knew?”

  “When ye put it that way, I sound colossally stupid.”

  “That’s because ye were colossally stupid. If a MacLennan guardsman had been nearby, he wouldn’t have let ye leave.”

  “Nay, he wouldn’t have.” She paused for a moment before adding, “He probably would have noticed the man drugging my ale too.”

  Lucas snorted. “He drugged ye? That’s a cowardly thing to do. Ye’re certain?”

  “Aye, I’m dead certain. We were chatting and I began to feel sick and dizzy. He seemed so nice. He offered to help me. That’s the last thing I remember. The next thing I knew I was waking up on his lap on a horse.”

  “By all that’s holy, lass, ye could have been raped or killed.”

  “Thank ye for reminding me. We’ve already established that I was colossally stupid.”

  “Aye, well, don’t ever forget it. In the future, don’t be so trusting. And when there are men set to guard ye, be grateful.” He had trouble looking as solemn as he sounded.

  She looked down. “Aye, I suppose ye’re right. I am too trusting.”

  ~ * ~

  Lucas smiled to himself, glad that she couldn’t see his face. He should probably feel a little guilty. After all, she had put her trust in him and believed that out of the goodness of his heart, he was escorting her to her home. But he hadn’t asked for her trust. He had given her his word that she was safe with him…and she was. But he had also let her believe he was taking her to her home, when, in reality, he intended to hold her for ransom—just as the Galbraiths had. But he assuaged any small bit of guilt he felt by telling himself she would likely have suffered at the Galbraith’s hands whereas he wouldn’t hurt her. She would be treated gently when they reached Castle Grant. William and his wife wouldn’t tolerate anything less.