Samantha Holt (Highland Fae Chronicles)

by To Dream of a Highlander

  Logan fell silent, save from a low grumble.

  “I cannae tell. Do ye know where he is holding the women?”

  “Nay.”

  “Ach, and I thought this to be practically yer keep.”

  “I do all the work, Gillean reaps the rewards.”

  “I know well enough ye dinnae do it for Gillean.”

  Logan smacked Finn’s shoulder with a snort. “Are we to rescue these lasses or not?”

  Drawing in a breath and curling his hand around his sword, Finn eased open the door and stepped out. The wooden stairs to the gallery hid the entranceway but Finn winced as reeds crackled underfoot. He peered around the banister and frowned.

  “Where the devil is—”

  “Finn mac Chaluim, I dinnae know why ye think ye need to sneak around my keep.”

  Logan released a soft, “Damnation,” behind him as Gillean stepped into view.

  “Finn!” Catriona cried.

  Finn’s insides curled up even tighter when he noted the frail figure clamped to Gillean’s side. He had a hand wrapped around her throat. It took all Finn’s willpower not to obey the anger surging through his body that begged him to power into the man and pound him until senseless.

  “Ye’ll drop the sword if ye dinnae mind, Finn.”

  Teeth gritted, Finn released the sword slowly, the clatter making Catriona flinch. He caught her gaze and willed her to stay calm. He did not need her losing her breath and swooning at this moment. At the same time, he hoped he conveyed his intent to rescue her.

  Somehow.

  “Take them to the donjon,” Gillean ordered, motioning to the two men guarding the hall doors.

  Logan let out a growl as one of them snatched his arm but Finn remained relaxed, the threatening hand on Catriona’s throat dictating his moves while irons were clamped around his wrists. She wriggled against the hold and her face reddened when Gillean squeezed, forcing her to freeze.

  “If ye harm her,” Finn warned as he was led up to the stairs, “I shall kill ye, I swear it.”

  “Finn, ye are too predictable. Ye love nothing more than to play the hero but ye never see anything through. I’d wager ye’ll have forgotten about this pretty lass by the time I’ve wedded and bedded her.”

  Finn broke the hold of the soldier holding him and lunged for Gillean but a squeak from Catriona and the tightening of the hand on her neck once more had him surrendering. He eyed Catriona as he was dragged up the stairs and along the gallery to the stone staircase. Only when they were hauled into the stairwell did he snap his head around and eye the spiral steps.

  A chill swept through him but determination steeled in his gut. Gillean might have thought he had the upper hand but Logan and he were within the castle walls—a better situation than previously. He would not fail Catriona again.

  The odour of dank reeds and rusted iron swirled through the atmosphere as the soldier holding Finn pushed open the door to the donjon. Lorna leapt to her feet and flung her arms around Finn’s shoulders but the man at his side shoved her back. He debated swinging his bound hands at the man, but the drawn sword erased that notion.

  Lorna flattened herself against the wall, the pale light from the arrow loop of the tower room highlighting her filthy gown and swollen lip. Finn clenched his jaw until his teeth hurt.

  Gillean would pay.

  Logan stumbled in behind him and the door slammed shut, the clank of keys solidifying their imprisonment.

  Lorna stepped forward, as if she might throw herself at Logan too but retreated suddenly, shoulders stiffening. “Logan, why are ye here? Why have the men not fought back? What is happening?”

  “Gillean has hold of the keep now, Lorna. He intends to wed Catriona and willnae allow anyone to prevent it,” Logan told her, no hint of his earlier desperation in his tone.

  Lorna shook her head. “I barely comprehend what is happening. Gillean said we had been deceived and Katelyn is actually her twin sister.”

  “Aye.” Logan pressed himself against the wall while Finn paced the small circular room. “A ruse to keep Gillean happy it seems. I heard his men say he intended to attack Bute and the marriage was to appease Gillean.”

  “Ach, I dinnae know why she went along with such a fool notion.” Finn paused and eyed Lorna’s lip. Fire whirled in his belly.

  “Ye cannae say ye have never done aught foolish for yer family,” Lorna reminded him with small smile, “but she should have confided in us. She must have known the truth would come out eventually.”

  Logan shook his head. “The king was to send men to Bute to help with its defence. Likely her father never thought the ruse would need to last long. But he is dead and none knew where Catriona had gone—save Gillean who heard word on his travels near the coast of her dead sister.”

  “So he wishes to marry the other sister now? I imagine her dowry is great,” Lorna mused.

  “He wants more than her dowry,” Finn spat. “I never liked the way he looked at her. I should have acted sooner. He will take her against her will.”

  “Why have the men not risen up, Logan? Why did ye no’ lead them into battle? Our men outnumber his, surely?” She folded her arms across her chest.

  “Gillean threatened yer life, Lorna,” Logan explained through compressed teeth. “None would rise up when yer life was at stake.”

  “And what of Catriona’s? Ye should have killed him when ye had the chance.”

  Logan’s nostrils flared. “Yer life may be of no import to ye but ‘tis to others. Besides, while I may foolishly bow to yer every whim, yer men are still Gillean’s too. Mayhap they dinnae wish to put their necks on the line for ye.”

  Lorna blinked and dropped back. Finn shook his head slowly. If he knew Lorna’s men they would have fought to the death for her, but Logan was right, none would risk her being harmed and none would fight as hard as Logan for her. He cursed inwardly. Why his sister seemed to be denying such a good man, was beyond him, yet hadn’t he denied a good woman?

  “Enough,” Finn barked. “We need to escape and rescue Catriona.” He eyed the solid door. “Somehow.”

  Chapter Ten

  Catriona twisted against Gillean’s hold and tore herself away. He let her, eyeing her with amusement as she stumbled. She rubbed her neck and glared at him. “What are ye planning to do with them, Gillean?”

  A cat-like smile stretched across his face. “Whatever I wish. Lorna seems to have forgotten that this is my keep, my land, and I am the law here.”

  “And what shall ye do with me?” She staggered toward the stairs, hand to her head. The knock to her skull and falling into a swoon had left her aching and unsteady.

  “I told ye, ye shall be my bride. Ye may no’ be yer sister but ye have a sizeable dowry and ye are a fine woman indeed.”

  Catriona tried to swallow but her throat was dry. She squeezed her eyes shut briefly to clear the fog from her mind. Almost as soon as she had awoken, Gillean had dragged her to her feet and had a hand wrapped around her throat. Prior to that she had vague memories of Lorna being struck down and dragged away. She only prayed Lorna was well.

  She glanced at the gallery and back at Gillean. His grin lengthened. “They’ll no’ help ye, Catriona. Why do ye no’ behave yerself? Ye will have to act the docile wife soon enough. Once the priest is here, we shall be wed.”

  Hand curled around the banister, she retreated another step. She longed to argue back, but had no argument for him. Once he married and bedded her, she would be his and there would be little to be done about it.

  However, she refused to be cowed.

  She edged onto the first step, sliding her feet back. Her hand nearly slipped on the railing as her palms grew clammy. Her gaze locked with Gillean’s and a tremor rumbled through her. He dove for her, swift as a hawk, and she screamed.

  Turning, she snatched her gown and sprinted up the stairs, Gillean close on her heels. He snagged her skirts but she tore away and ran onto the gallery. Intent on the staircase, she did not hear h
im until he was upon her and she screamed again when he wrapped an arm around her waist. Hauled against his chest, breath knocked from her, a menacing chuckle washed over her. Catriona fought the groping hands as they tugged at her bodice. Her heart beat impossibly fast and when he spun her around and thrust her against the gallery railings, almost snapping her spine on them, his face merged with that of the Norseman in her mind.

  And then she recalled warm blue eyes and hot skin. Remembered feeling loved and wanted. The Viking vanished, leaving the aged, red-faced, snarling Gillean.

  “Get off me,” she cried when he fumbled at her breast.

  “I had hoped for our wedding night,” he declared, gripping her wrist and thrusting her hand away, “but I might as well ruin ye now. Then ye’ll have little choice.”

  “Nay.” She twisted out of his grip and shoved against his chest. It only gave her the tiniest moment of freedom but it was enough to wriggle out from her confined position.

  Gillean grabbed her again and she swung for him, fist connecting with his cheek. He put a hand to it, eyes blazing. “Whore!” he spat.

  Chest heaving, Catriona steadied herself at the top of the stairs. She needed to get past him and get to Finn and Lorna. She hunched her shoulders over, ready to barrel through but he lunged for her before she was ready. Dodging to one side, she shoved him and he stumbled, flailed and tumbled down the stairs.

  Hand to her mouth, Catriona could only gape as he crashed down the staircase, limbs flapping and connecting heavily with the wood. When he finally came to a stop at the bottom, Catriona peered at him, waiting for him to rise up and come after her again.

  Gillean remained motionless.

  A shaking hand to her hammering chest, Catriona turned to be confronted by the two men who had taken Finn and Logan prisoner. Chin up, she affected her coolest look. “Yer master has had a heavy fall and could be injured.” They stared at her and she motioned with her hand. “Well, are ye going to help him or not?”

  Exchanging looks, they eyed her and one nodded. “Aye, milady.”

  They hurried past and Catriona wasted no time in running along the gallery and up the stairs. Cool air touched her skin and she realised Gillean had torn her bodice. Thankfully her chemise covered her well enough. She nearly slipped on her skirts as she navigated the narrow staircase and she fought for air once she reached the top. Slamming against the door, she fumbled with the lock and flung the door open.

  Finn turned his head and scowled. “Catriona!” With a shake of his head, he dashed over and lifted his bound hands over her head so she was flat against his chest.

  “Are ye well?” he asked. “Has he hurt ye?”

  “Nay, I am well,” she said against his chest, drawing in his warmth and strength. She lifted her head. “But we must make haste. I rendered him senseless, I think, but he may awaken and his men saw what happened.”

  Awe haunted Finn’s expression before he released her. Lorna got to her feet and embraced her while Logan hung back.

  “I am glad ye are well,” Lorna said softly.

  “Aye, I am sorry he hurt ye. I thank ye for trying to help.”

  Lorna waved a hand. “I couldnae stand by and watch him harm ye.”

  Logan peered out the door and motioned for them to follow. “We must hurry. If Gillean awakens there will be hell to pay.”

  Finn moved behind them. “Ye lead, Logan, I shall bring up the rear and protect the women.”

  Logan nodded and Catriona raised an eyebrow as she studied Finn’s shackled hands. But then, she had seen Finn and Logan fight. Weapons or not, both were skilled warriors. Though her pulse drummed rapidly and her stomach churned, she did not doubt they would do their best to see them out of the keep unscathed.

  They hastened down the stairs, Lorna behind Logan. Catriona nearly stumbled into her back when Logan stopped at the bottom and pressed a finger to his lips. Cautiously, they stepped out onto the gallery and Logan peered over the railings. He indicated for them to follow but no matter how carefully they trod, there was no disguising the creaking wood or footsteps.

  The two men-at-arms were easing Gillean into the large chair in the corner of the Great Hall when they descended the stairs. Finn moved in front of them, forcing Lorna and Catriona back.

  Gillean, a hand to his head, waved vaguely at them. “Get them,” he commanded.

  With a scrape of steel and cautious footsteps, the two men came for them and Lorna clutched Catriona’s hand.

  “Get to the passageway as soon as ye get the chance,” Finn murmured as he lifted his hands in surrender.

  “But...” Catriona protested.

  “Go!” Finn growled.

  Lorna glanced at her and tugged her hand. Catriona offered her a smile of understanding. Neither of them had any intention of abandoning the men. In a swift movement, they stepped around the men and inserted themselves in between them and the steel points. Catriona held her shoulders firm as she eyed their swords and the momentary flicker of confusion on the men’s faces.

  Gillean groaned from the corner. “Damnation, don’t kill my bride! Just the others.”

  The delay was enough. Finn and Logan pressed through while their blades were down and kicked the men to the ground.

  “Move!” Logan barked.

  Finn snatched Catriona’s hand and they ran for the passageway. The steps proved slippery and Catriona struggled to keep her footing as Finn forced her to move swiftly. Soon her slippers met damp ground, slowing her pace. The dark confines of the passageway made her eyes go wide and she concentrated on the faint outline of Finn’s shoulders and Logan and Lorna’s breaths and squelching footsteps behind her.

  A pale glow sent shadows frolicking and she stifled a sound of alarm. “They’re following us,” she cried out.

  Finn grunted and tugged her hand and urged her to move faster. Her skirts felt heavy, weighed down by mud probably and the cold confines of the passageway chilled her skin. Lorna stumbled into her several times and Logan cursed. The golden light of torches grew, bathing the dank walls and a bitter tang seeped into her mouth. Metal clanged against stone and Catriona pictured the men with their swords drawn and thrust out in front of then, ready to slice them down.

  The slender strip of light ahead made her head swim with relief. It seemed to her Finn barely even slowed as they hurried up the stairs and burst through the door into daylight. Catriona blinked in the light and Finn dragged her to one side as they watched Lorna and Logan emerge. Logan slammed the door shut behind them and Finn released her hand to help him haul a water barrel in front of the door.

  Glancing up at the walls, she noted a few of the men-at-arms turning to view them. A cry suddenly went up, though she couldn’t distinguish what it was and one of the men flung himself at one of the others. Within moments, fighting had broken out—Gillean’s men against Lorna’s. Shouts and muffled curses rang out. Some men fought with their fists, others with whatever they could find. Catriona winced as a man was tossed from the walls. The brawling spilled into the courtyard and Finn urged Catriona and Lorna behind him. Logan waited and darted into the mess to snatch a sword from a fallen man. He grinned, clutching the weapon between his bound hands as he made his way back over to them.

  “We must get the women out. Whatever happens, Gillean is still laird.”

  Finn nodded. “Aye, we can take them out of the rear entrance.”

  Hacking at anyone who came near, Logan carved a path through for them. Catriona fought the rising bile as blood stained the dirt and men fought for superiority. How would it all end? Lorna’s men outnumbered Gillean’s but they were still unarmed. She glanced at Lorna—who usually appeared so strong—to see her ashen-faced and wide-eyed.

  They came up to the small door, hidden behind a cart and the men urged them toward it while they fended off anyone who approached. Lorna fumbled to open it, pausing to call to the men, “Are ye coming?”

  Logan paused and glanced around. “I cannae leave the men.”

  �
�Nay, ye must come, Logan,” Lorna insisted.

  “Lorna, I have worked and lived with them for many years. I willnae abandon them. They fight for ye and I will do the same.”

  “But....”

  “Go now. Ye wouldnae want me to behave dishonourably would ye.” He offered her a soft smile.

  Tears shimmered in Lorna’s gaze and she nodded.

  Catriona stared desperately at Finn. “Finn?” She knew what he would say before he said it.

  “I shall stay too but we shall join ye shortly. Besides,” he grinned, “I must get Dìleas. She’ll never forgive me if I leave her.”

  “And I will never forgive ye if ye leave me!” Catriona declared as her throat tightened.

  “I shall have to live with that I fear, wee lass. Now be gone with ye, both of ye. Dinnae stop until ye reach Glencolum. Lorna knows the way. We shall be along soon.”

  Lip tucked between her teeth, Catriona nodded. Lorna gave her brother a quick embrace but Catriona couldn’t bring herself to. She feared she might never let him go if she did. Before anyone could speak, Logan took off and Finn followed, bestowing her with one more jaunty smile.

  Lorna grabbed her hand. “Come, we must go or all this is for naught.”

  Nodding, Catriona gripped the woman’s hand and they ducked out of the door and ran for the hills. They stumbled and climbed, helping one another navigate the rocky peaks around Kilcree. Weariness ate into her limbs but Lorna’s strength filtered into her and she pushed on. If they did not survive, it was all for nothing. It would not be for nothing.

  Though her feet ached and likely bled in her slippers, she continued on. When they reached the top of the hill, they paused to gaze down at the castle. It was impossible to see what was happening.

  “Do ye think they are well?” she asked Lorna.

  Lorna squeezed her hand. “They are strong men. I am sure they shall be along soon.”

  Catriona spied the doubt in Lorna’s pale eyes but said nothing. Numbness seeped into her body, taking root in her chest. If she never saw Finn again, she wasn’t sure what she would do. Even the idea of returning to Bute—an unlikely occurrence now her father was dead—did not fill her with joy. The luscious greens and purples of the hills appeared dull to her eyes and the sweet fragrance grew sickly. Without Finn, the world was dying around her.