My Daring Highlander

by Vonda Sinclair

  “Stay away from him,” her aunt warned. “He is naught but a guard.”

  Fury built within Seona’s chest, but she drew in a deep breath to dispel it. “He is Chief Dirk’s tanist.”

  “Do you think that will matter to your father?”

  Seona shrugged. Of course it wouldn’t. Her father was like a stone monolith when it came to sentiment. “What about the guard you have been spending so much time with?” Seona asked, her heart rate speeding up with her bold words.

  Her aunt narrowed her eyes until they were like sharp blades. “My ankle is near broken and he is but helping me get about. Besides, how dare you question me and my actions?”

  “You are a lady, just as I am,” Seona pointed out innocently. “What about your reputation?”

  “I am a widow,” her aunt snapped. “Not a virgin. There is a vast difference.”

  “I doubt my father would approve, either way.”

  “Are you threatening me?” her aunt demanded through clenched teeth.

  “Nay,” Seona said mildly, lifting her brows into what she hoped was a pleasant expression. She was tired of obeying her grouchy, snobbish, hypocritical aunt and ready to give her a taste of her own bitter medicine. Seona’s father provided financial support to her aunt. That was why she’d agreed to be Seona’s companion and chaperone during this journey. What would her father do if he knew his sister was interested in a guard, someone he would see as far beneath her? Would he cut off her funds?

  “You’d best watch yourself, lassie.” Patience pointed a finger straight at Seona. “I will tell your father everything. You ken how he is when angered.”

  Indeed, she did. She well remembered his red-faced tirades, his arms flying about, his big hands hurling objects. And worst of all, those same meaty hands slapping her face so hard the imprint of his fingers left a red mark for two days. Seona had to get her sister away from him. Was Talia well? Had he abused her already? Seona’s heart thudded with sudden concern.

  “Are you listening to me?” Patience asked.

  “Aye. You would enjoy watching him strike me again, would you not?”

  “Of course not! I don’t enjoy it. But it would be nothing less than you deserve in this case. Dallying with a bodyguard.”

  “I am not dallying.” At least she hoped that wasn’t what it was called. ’Twas true Keegan had touched her in scandalous ways, but he had not taken her virtue. She was immensely grateful for that now. Although at the time, she hadn’t been. She’d wanted something she couldn’t name. She’d craved for Keegan to claim her in every way and make her a woman. His woman and his wife.

  “The way he always watches you with lust in his eyes tells me loud and clear that he wishes to bed you,” Patience said.

  Seona’s face burned, but she ignored it. Aye, she hoped Keegan did wish to bed her. ’Twas her fondest desire.

  “Your father will find the man he wishes you to marry, and it won’t be Keegan.”

  Clearly her aunt loved naught more than rubbing salt into her wound. She was a woman too; how could she not understand Seona’s feelings? If only Patience could visualize how much better Seona’s life would be if she could marry Keegan instead of some old barbarous ogre mayhap she wouldn’t be so harsh. Her aunt was a widow, aye, but Seona knew naught about her marriage, for her husband had died when Seona was a small child. “What was your marriage like?”

  Patience sent her a severe frown. “My marriage is none of your concern. That was fifteen years ago. We are talking about you.”

  “I was merely curious,” Seona said in a benign tone. “Although your marriage was brief, I wondered if it was a pleasant experience.”

  “Nay. ’Twas not. But I know not any woman who has had an enjoyable marriage. ’Tis a part of life. You must grow accustomed to it.”

  There was something very wrong with that. People in her society married for money, property, alliances and prestige. Not for love. Never for love. But if love could enter into it, wouldn’t the marriages be more happy and enjoyable? Wouldn’t life be worth living?

  Isobel had told her that her parents had loved one another, despite their arranged marriage. And ’twas abundantly clear that Isobel and Dirk loved one another. She often caught them whispering and giving each other affectionate smiles at dinner. A few times at Dunnakeil, she’d accidentally seen them kissing passionately in a stairwell or an out of the way place.

  “’Tis obvious Lady Isobel has a happy marriage,” Seona pointed out.

  “Hmph.” Patience glowered. “The way that marriage came about was highly unusual and bordering on scandalous. Dirk stole her from the MacLeod.”

  Seona shrugged. “Everyone is happy with the outcome. And the MacLeod did not seem to mind so much.”

  “Well, it matters not. Don’t expect the same thing yourself. You should be angry that Isobel stole Dirk from you.”

  Seona frowned. Was her aunt insane? “She didn’t steal Dirk from me. I was never betrothed to Dirk.”

  “You were betrothed to the next MacKay chief, and who is that? Dirk.”

  Seona shook her head. “I was betrothed to Aiden. He was chief for a brief time before Dirk arrived.”

  “’Tis a tangled mess, and your father will not be happy about it. The MacKays broke the contract.”

  Seona was glad, for she’d never wanted to marry Aiden or Dirk. And especially not Haldane. The way the dirty little knave used to stare at her all the time made her skin crawl. Nay, their cousin, Keegan was the only MacKay to catch her attention and steal her heart.

  “If Keegan has taken your virginity, your father will kill him. You ken this is true,” Patience said. “I’m certain you remember what happened to the unsuitable young man you danced with last year—MacSween’s youngest brother. Your father had him beaten.”

  “I remember.” And she’d felt horribly guilty for agreeing to the dance.

  “What you may not know is that young MacSween met an unfortunate end not long after that,” her aunt said.

  “What?” The sensation of ice cold water washed over Seona. “Someone killed him?”

  “Aye. It happened in Inverness. He was stabbed and robbed.”

  Waves of horror and disbelief crashing over her, Seona could scarce breathe. “Did Father order this done?” She forced the words out.

  “No one would say for certain, but there was a rumor among the men that MacSween had kissed you and tried to force himself on you.”

  Outrage burned through her. “That is not true! We danced and that was all.”

  “Well, you know how men are; they like to boast. Once a story gets started, it becomes exaggerated.”

  Seona paced, tears stinging her eyes. What in heaven’s name? Had her father really done this? She’d never known her aunt to lie. In truth, her father was violent and brutal, and more than capable of ordering someone killed.

  “Keegan is tasked with taking us home, once I’m well enough to travel,” Patience said. “You ken your father has far more men than the MacKay guards who are traveling with us. He could easily have Keegan killed.”

  The image of the bruised and battered MacSween man appeared in her mind and blended with Keegan’s handsome and precious face. If her father killed Keegan, she would not want to live. She loved Keegan more than life itself. She would gladly endure a lifetime of unhappiness and beatings if that meant Keegan lived a full life, too, even if he was far away from her.

  She imagined what might happen—when Keegan saw he was being attacked, he would draw his sword. But he would be outnumbered by her father’s men, and they’d all have swords and dirks, too. He wouldn’t be able to fight them all.

  They’d kill him.

  Her throat closed up and tears flooded her eyes. She had to stop spending time with Keegan and make it clear to him any connection they’d shared was now over.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Keegan rode with the MacKenzies and seven of the MacKay guards through the village and to the edge of the small wood near Loch
Long. They dismounted, leaving the horses with three grooms, and moved quietly through the trees. Fraser had told him the stags had been spotted early that morn, halfway up a mountain, above the tree line, gorging on the fresh spring growth.

  All was silent in the wood, except for the whispering shuffle of their feet on the wet leaves. Several of them, including Keegan, carried a bow and arrows. Though he was no archer, he was a fairly good shot.

  Cyrus and Dermott led the way, Keegan, Fraser and others behind them. Keegan wished Dirk could’ve joined them, but he wasn’t recovered enough yet. Rebbie had stayed behind to keep him company.

  Abruptly, Cyrus halted, holding up his hand for silence. Keegan stopped just shy of running into him. Had he seen a deer? Keegan squinted into the dimness of the forest. In the distance, something darted from one tree to another. Plaid? ’Twas not a deer at all, but a man.

  “Who the devil is that?” Dermott whispered.

  Cyrus pulled his sword from the scabbard at his side. “Let’s go find out.”

  Several of the men drew their swords, while others nocked arrows into the bows they carried. Keegan chose his sword since he was far more experienced with it. The lot of them advanced, trying to keep even quieter than before.

  Keegan saw naught but tree bark and leaves for several minutes. Abruptly, the man abandoned his hiding place behind a thick tree trunk and sprinted deeper into the wood.

  Cyrus and Dermott increased their pace. Keegan and the other men followed suit. Shouts and yells echoed through the trees up ahead.

  “What the hell?” Dermott asked. “How many of them are there?”

  Realization dawned. “’Slud. That might be Haldane and his band of outlaws,” Keegan said just above a whisper. A couple of days ago, Keegan and Rebbie had given Cyrus and his brothers a detailed accounting of Haldane, his men, and their crimes.

  Dermott glanced back briefly, his green eyes gleaming in the strange light of the forest. “How many of them?”

  “Around a dozen at last count,” Keegan said. “Unless he’s hired more since that last skirmish.”

  “We’re going to find out,” Cyrus said. “Prepare for battle, lads.”

  “Their archer is deadly. Watch out for him,” Keegan warned.

  None of them carried targes since they’d been headed out for deer stalking, not into battle, and had no way to deflect arrows that might fly at them.

  Keegan hadn’t imagined Haldane would follow them here, but he shouldn’t be surprised, really. Haldane was a canny lad and determined to get what he wanted.

  Shouts and running erupted up ahead, some of the men on horseback and others on foot. Most fled north, along the loch’s edge, while others scurried up the side of the mountain to the east. The MacKenzies and MacKays pursued those running along the loch’s edge. Easier pickings.

  “Capture them,” Cyrus ordered. “I want to question the bastards.”

  Keegan was glad to see they were gaining on the stragglers of the group.

  One of the scrawny men, red-headed with a stringy beard—but unfortunately not Haldane—glanced back and screamed like a lass. He ran down the bank and into the loch. Fraser took after him, splashing through the shallows, latched a hand onto the plaid at his back and dragged him toward the bank. A struggle ensued, but Fraser, being taller and stronger, quickly disarmed him and shoved him up the bank onto dry ground.

  Once Keegan saw Fraser and one of the MacKay guards had the outlaw well under control, he ran ahead to join the MacKenzies. He hoped they could catch several of the knaves.

  Dermott threw a rock at another outlaw and hit his mark. With a dull thud, he crumpled to the ground and didn’t move.

  Only one more was still within sight. He was taller and broader of shoulder with black hair. When he glanced back, Keegan didn’t recognize him. Picking up the pace, Keegan joined Cyrus in the pursuit.

  An arrow jabbed into the ground near Keegan, spraying dirt and leaves. He jumped aside. “Arrows!” he warned Cyrus. Taking cover behind a tree trunk, he glanced up the steep, tree-covered hillside where the arrow had come from, seeing Gil and Haldane.

  “Bastards. They’re up there!” Keegan pointed, then sheathed his sword and nocked an arrow. Aiming and drawing back, he let the arrow fly. It sailed through the trees a good distance but then stabbed into a tree trunk. “’Slud,” he muttered.

  Taking cover near Keegan, Cyrus yelled back to his guards. “Shoot them!”

  Keegan nocked another arrow, but Gil and Haldane disappeared before he could release it. Keegan ground his teeth. He wanted to chase them down like the vermin they were, but he was ill prepared at the moment. No armor, no targe.

  The other outlaw they’d been pursuing along the loch had also vanished.

  “Bastards,” Cyrus grumbled. “We’ll take these two prisoners to the castle, arm ourselves better, then come back and hunt down the rest of them.”

  “Aye.” Keegan was glad Cyrus was also eager for a fight. “I want to hear what these two have to say.”

  ***

  Keegan didn’t recognize the two scraggly-bearded men being shepherded back to Teasairg Castle, their hands bound behind their backs, but they definitely looked like desperate criminals. No doubt Haldane had hired them.

  The portcullis was raised and all of them strode into the bailey.

  “Go get Chief MacKay,” Cyrus said to one of the male servants. “Tell him we captured two of his brother’s men.”

  “Aye, m’laird.” The servant hurried inside.

  Keegan was surprised to see Dirk appear at the entrance a moment later. He must have been in the great hall for he couldn’t have had time to negotiate the stairs from the upper floor.

  “Aye?” Dirk limped forward on the sturdy cane, his sharp blue gaze cutting to the outlaws. “Are these Haldane’s men?”

  “Indeed, cousin,” Keegan said. “I remember that one from the skirmish we had north of Ullapool.” He nodded to the brown-haired one who had been knocked down by the rock. Blood soaked part of his hair and dripped onto his filthy clothing.

  “Have they revealed anything as of yet?”

  “Nay, I thought I’d let you question them,” Cyrus said.

  “Did Haldane MacKay hire you?” Dirk asked the two.

  Neither man opened his mouth.

  “Did you cut out their tongues?” Dirk asked, pretending to be aghast.

  “Nay.” Cyrus gave a dark smile. “But I will if you want me to.”

  The men’s eyes widened and their faces paled beneath the layers of dirt. “Um… aye… m’laird,” the redheaded man stammered.

  “What are your names?” Dirk asked.

  “Eli Carmichael,” the red-haired man said.

  The one with brown hair and a bushy beard glared at his companion, then blew out a breath. “Neil MacEldon.”

  “Well, Neil and Eli—if those are your real names,” Dirk said. “What job were you hired for?”

  Both men appeared twitchy, their gazes darting this way and that. Keegan studied them, determining they were near terrified. How loyal were they to Haldane?

  “Has Haldane paid you yet?” Keegan asked.

  Eli glared. “’Tis no concern of yours.”

  “If he hasn’t paid you yet, he likely never will.”

  “He paid us some,” Eli said. “And we ken there’s more where that came from.”

  Keegan and Dirk exchanged a glance. The purse of coins that was stolen from Dirk’s tent.

  Keegan shrugged. “Just because he has it doesn’t mean he’s going to give you any of it. And yet, he expects you to risk your necks for him. ’Tis not fair, is it?”

  “If we do the job, he’ll pay us good,” Neil said. “He’s a man of his word.”

  Dirk snorted. “And what job is that?”

  “Don’t know yet. He said he’d tell us.”

  “He won’t be telling you,” Cyrus said. “Because you two are going to spend the rest of your lives in my dungeon.”

  The outlaws pal
ed and exchanged a terrified glance. Were they having second thoughts?

  “Any man who attempts to murder my sister and my brother-in-law is going to get what he deserves,” Cyrus said, his voice hard.

  “We didn’t do it,” Neil said quickly. “’Twas Gil what shot him with the arrow.” He nodded at Dirk.

  Cyrus shrugged, looking unconcerned. “You both were on his side, trying to ambush my family, friends and allies. You put my sister’s life in danger,” Cyrus said, his voice quiet but deadly.

  “We didn’t ken y-your sister w-was with them,” Eli stuttered.

  “Now you do. So, tell these men anything they want to know.” Cyrus motioned to Dirk and Keegan.

  “What are Haldane’s plans?” Dirk asked.

  Eli squirmed for a moment, staring at the ground, then at the sky. “We heard him murmuring something to McMurdo about…” He dropped silent.

  “Aye? About what?” Dirk demanded.

  “A lady. Seona—I’m thinking that was her name. She has brown hair and blue eyes, very beautiful. We’re to grab her but not hurt her. Then, he’ll pay us and head back to Durness with her. ’Twas what he said.”

  Fury simmered inside Keegan, tensing all his muscles. He wanted to hunt down Haldane and put him out of his misery. “I’ll tell you one thing. None of you are getting your filthy hands on Lady Seona. The man who tries it will get his throat cut.”

  “Aye,” Dirk agreed.

  “I’m not touching her,” Eli promised, backing up. The stone wall behind him halted his progress.

  “Nay. Me neither!” Neil’s wide gaze darted back and forth among the three men.

  Keegan narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Neil. “What did Haldane say about Dirk?”

  “Well… uh… what was it?” he asked his friend. “That he might die of fever. If not, McMurdo is tasked with killing him.”

  Dirk gave a brief humorless laugh. “’Tis old news. Tell us something we don’t know.”

  “Aye. How many men does Haldane have now?” Keegan asked.