A Hellish Highlander (Clan Ross Book 3)

by Hildie McQueen

  Laird Munro would not toss them off the lands on the word of his weak, idiot son. Unless it was a grave incident, they were safe. Perhaps she could speak to Lady Munro.

  Her mother appeared. She looked around and upon spotting her, hurried toward Gisela.

  “Lass, what are ye doing out here? Lady Munro requires our help. The wedding party is here.” Her mother’s wide smile faltered at seeing her bruised shoulder and Gisela yanked the blouse up and tied the strings.

  “He hurt ye.”

  “What that idiot does is annoy me. Hopefully, Caylen will hold true to the fact he no longer wishes to marry me. I cannot say I can keep from slapping him again if he insists on it.”

  “Ye should have a cup of honey mead to help with the pain,” her mother said distractedly, her gaze moving toward the courtyard and the front of the house.

  “I will come with ye. Pray that I do not see my cousin and feel a need to strike him again.”

  Her mother’s expression became hard, which was alarming. “I will not give him the satisfaction of ye getting punished. I have a plan in mind to make him pay for mistreating ye.” Before Gisela could stop her, her mother raced away, arms pumping, and a murderous expression on her face.

  “Oh, no.” Gisela returned to the bench. “What now?”

  Letting out a breath, she hurried to the entrance by the kitchens. Upon entering through the doorway, she was greeted by a chaotic scene. Maids hurried to and fro, some with spoons in hands, others with trays filled heavy with bowls of food. Most of them ignored Gisela as she went into the room hoping to find her mother who often went to the kitchens when upset.

  “What do ye wish for, lass?” the red-faced cook asked.

  “My mother?”

  “Not here.”

  The entire situation was getting more annoying by the moment. If only there was a way to convince her mother to leave the keep.

  Gisela hurried down a corridor until arriving at the great room. Almost every seat was filled. People sat drinking ale and mead. Some had bread in hand. There were only a few from Clan Ross. Most of those in attendance were Munros.

  At the head table were the laird and his eldest son.

  A scan of the room was enough to know Caylen was not about. Lady Munro, Lady Ross and her daughter were not in the room either. And neither was her mother.

  She hurried across the room to the stairwell. Although she and her mother shared a room on the main floor, she figured her mother had followed the wedding party upstairs.

  Once she arrived at the larger chambers, the sounds of women’s voices became loud.

  She stopped at the doorway of a room and peeked in. Lady Munro and Lady Ross sat with Kieran’s sister. They spoke animatedly, while several other women listened adding a comment here and there. It seemed they were planning the proceedings that would take place the next day.

  Her mother was not in the room, which made Gisela begin to panic. If her mother did something rash, the consequences could be dire.

  “What are ye doing snooping about?” Caylen stood next to her, his expression as if he smelled something horrible.

  “I am looking for my mother.”

  He sniffed. “Why would someone of yer family’s standing be in the same room as these ladies?”

  Gisela fought the urge to shove past him. “Not only is she yer aunt, but we have been asked to assist by yer mother.”

  “Ye should go search for her in the servants’ quarters, or perhaps in a man’s bed.” He stalked past her.

  Glaring at his retreating back, Gisela figured she much preferred a rude Caylen to him pursuing her.

  Finally, she found her mother in their chamber. Lillian had a pot over the fire and was sprinkling herbs into it.

  “What are ye doing?” Gisela neared and sniffed.

  Her mother gave her a knowing look. “Making a bit of tincture, nothing more.”

  Gisela decided not to ask. Her mother would not follow through and do something to hurt her friendship with Lady Munro. However, she seemed to be relishing the thought of doing something to Caylen.

  “Please do not do something rash. Once this wedding is over, we should return back home to the village.”

  Instead of a reply, her mother began to hum.

  *

  At last meal, Gisela sat away from her mother who insisted on always sitting at the front of the room. Lillian always took control of every conversation, informing everyone that she was part of the Munro family and therefore entitled.

  She knew her mother would be looking for her, but the last thing Gisela wanted at the moment was to be in Caylen’s direct sight. Hopefully, his ire would ebb as time progressed and she could return home and all would be in the past.

  Last meal that day was festive. Platters piled high with meats and root vegetables were placed on every table. There were not as many people in attendance as the days before, since many had been sent home.

  At a table next to the high board was Kieran, who sat with his mother, brother and sister. The women spoke animatedly while the two brothers ate in silence. Every once in a while, Kieran nodded at something said.

  It was interesting to note that his expression always remained the same. Whether with his family or speaking to others, the ever-present scowl seemed to indicate he’d rather be anywhere but there.

  “What do ye find so interesting?” A young woman lowered to the bench across the table from her. “Tis good eating today.” The woman reached for a piece of meat and began eating with gusto.

  “Do I know ye?” Gisela asked while studying the woman. She was short and round, with bright red cheeks and curly brown hair. Her eyes were a bright blue and she seemed quite at home there at the keep.

  “No, probably not. I am Helen. I am Lady Verity’s companion.” The young woman grabbed a second piece of meat and piled vegetables onto her plate. “I love celebrations,” she exclaimed, bits of food falling from her mouth to land on her bosom.

  Helen looked to the head table. “The groom looks less than enthusiastic.”

  Indeed, Patrick Munro looked down at his plate, not touching it. He didn’t particularly look glum, but definitely not happy.

  She would describe his expression more as pensive. However, she had to agree with Helen. Given the circumstances, he did not seem in good spirits.

  “Have he and yer mistress spent any time together?”

  Helen’s head bobbed up and down. “Oh, aye, they have. They once walked in the garden. I do believe, another time, they danced.”

  When she didn’t add any more instances, Gisela looked to Verity. The girl’s cheeks were flushed. Although quite plain, with a round cherubic face and small eyes, she was an interesting sort. It was curious that Verity did not look to her soon-to-be husband, but seemed more interested in speaking to those at the table.

  When Lady Munro neared their table, both Tristan and Kieran stood. Once she sat, they said something and went to the back of the room.

  Kieran and his brother took the room’s attention. Both were formidable in size and attractive. It went without saying that no one could compare to Kieran when it came to his handsome looks, but Tristan was also very attractive.

  When she sighed, Helen looked from her to the brothers.

  “Oh. Ye pine for one of them?” the young woman said and smiled widely. “They are very handsome. I am going to miss catching glimpses of the youngest brother on occasion. Although I would never dare approach him.” She gave an exaggerated shudder.

  “Why do ye react that way?” Gisela whispered.

  The young woman leaned forward and spoke in a low tone. “He is quite terrifying. Rarely speaks. Well, except to Moira, who coddles him. She has since he was but a wee babe.”

  “Who is Moira?”

  “The cook. The woman in charge of the kitchens.”

  Kieran and his brother now sat with some of the Clan Ross guards. They spoke and it seemed Kieran was explaining something to his brother. The other guards at the table
listened intently.

  “He does not seem a bad sort to me,” Gisela said. For some reason, she did not like that the woman thought badly of Kieran. “He is not particularly friendly, but I would not call him terrifying.”

  “Is that so?” Helen turned to look at Kieran.

  In that moment, his gaze lifted and he looked at Gisela. When their gazes met, heat traveled down from her chest to her stomach.

  His narrowed gaze moved to Helen and the woman gasped.

  Helen shook her head. “Ye are wrong. He is not a nice person at all.”

  Chapter Seven

  When the arrow hit just right of the center, Kieran scowled at the target.

  “What are ye going to do, scare it so it will move over?” Tristan said with a chuckle. “Ye have not been practicing at all if I can beat ye.”

  His brother was right and Kieran wasn’t sure if he’d beat Caylen with the way he was missing almost every time.

  A group of women had gathered, doing a horrible job of pretending not to watch him. He glanced in their direction, but didn’t see Gisela. She wasn’t the type to waste time on such things as flirting. His lips twitched at the thought.

  “They want us over at the competition area,” Naill said, his gaze moving from Kieran to the target. The man had the gall to smile before looking away.

  Kieran walked to the target and yanked his arrows from it before going to a large field outside the keep gates where the competition targets were placed.

  Despite the fact he would rather be hunting down Ethan McLeod, Kieran looked forward to competition. However, this was to be the first time he’d participated in such a trivial thing since his father’s murder and it felt wrong.

  He’d enjoyed the day and hadn’t felt particularly badly for it. However, in Kieran’s opinion, it wasn’t the proper time for his family to indulge in recreation.

  Men gathered in groups. They were divided in teams of four. He and Tristan along with Naill and another Ross archer were a team.

  Caylen pranced about like a damned bird, holding up his bow as if it were a trophy. His team included his brother and two other men who he assumed were part of the Munro’s archer guard.

  There were another three teams. Mackenzie, Munro and Ross archers would be competing.

  Kieran took pride in knowing his men were well skilled and would do well in the competition.

  A horn blew and Laird Munro spoke about something or other. Kieran didn’t bother to listen, but instead looked to the people seated on the platform. His mother and sister smiled widely and clapped with glee. His heart lightened at the sight. They deserved happiness.

  Living with the Munros would suit them both well.

  Next to his mother and sister were Lady Ross and Gisela’s mother who, like the rest of the women, waved cloths in the air to encourage their archers.

  Gisela sat beside her mother. She held a cloth but did not wave it. When meeting his gaze, she hitched her chin up just a bit and gave him a subtle nod. The message was clear.

  Beat Caylen Munro.

  Kieran frowned. His eyes moved from Gisela and then to Caylen. His brother’s lips curved. “Yer lass is quite a beauty,” he said with raised eyebrows.

  “She is not my lass,” Kieran snapped, not liking the pride he felt at his brother’s compliment. In truth, Gisela was a rare beauty. With rich brown wavy hair and olive skin, she was striking. Her almond-shaped eyes that lifted at the corners drew one in and her lips, just a bit too wide and thick, were the most enticing he’d ever known.

  “Brother?”

  Kieran huffed and looked to Tristan. “What?”

  “We begin. Do ye wish to go first?”

  He stepped up to the marker and looked to the target. He ignored everything and everyone else. He was not competing against anyone but himself. And Kieran knew he was the best archer there.

  When he loosed the arrow, making allowance for the light breeze, he didn’t have to watch to know it hit just a hair high. Nonetheless, it was in the center. Not the best, but it would do.

  There were exclamations from those gathered and loud whispers as each archer took his turn. Everyone was skilled. However, soon it became apparent who the best were. Both Kieran’s team and the other Ross team were neck and neck.

  Caylen’s curses and disparaging remarks to his team of archers made them miss their targets. He then turned his anger to the other teams, calling them out for cheating and such.

  His brother stomped over to where Caylen was and towered over the man who looked about to run. “Keep yer comments about my men to yerself.” He kept the tone low so as not to be overheard, but Kieran was able to read his brother’s lips.

  The man finally nodded and, after staring at the man for a bit too long, Tristan returned.

  Kieran met his brother’s gaze. “Should we allow one of their teams to win?”

  His brother’s eyes were flat. “Aye, we have to.”

  “Gavin and I will go to the other team and send two here. We will lose.” Kieran hated to, but it was only a stupid competition.

  “No,” Naill said, surprising him. “I will go.”

  “We are not going to stand here and argue about this.” Tristan let out an annoyed snort.

  Their other team of archers came over and looked to them with curiosity. “We have decided to lose.”

  “The best teams will win.” Laird Munro had neared without them noticing. “Now, return back to yer places.”

  Everyone walked back to stand with their original teams and, soon after, the second round began. This time, they were to stand a bit farther from the targets. Kieran squinted at the targets. “Ours are a bit further back.”

  “I noticed,” Tristan said and looked to their other team who also seemed to be saying the same thing. “Both?”

  “Aye,” Kieran replied with a grin. “Good. I am better from farther away.”

  When it was his turn, his arrow landed dead center, the second one splitting the first. There was applause and people jumped to their feet as he prepared to shoot the third and final arrow.

  Beat Caylen. He could feel Gisela’s silent request.

  Kieran loosed the arrow and it, too, hit the center. There were exclamations and applause, but he only sought Gisela’s approval. She clapped and smiled brightly, her twinkling eyes meeting his. A more beautiful sight he’d never seen.

  The Munro team won second place. They’d cheated, but being his team won and the other Ross team was third, the Ross archers didn’t care about the standings.

  There was much drinking and animation at the picnic after the archery competition. Kieran joined the other archers and watched the warriors compete in the stone throw. This time, the other clan seemed to have an edge. Tristan was strong and would probably do well, but having been in battle, he had not had time for trivial things like practice.

  Once the wedding ceremony ended the next day, Kieran planned to leave immediately. Hopefully, the scouts he’d sent out to look for signs of Ethan would produce information.

  Just then, a group of men caught his attention. They looked familiar.

  He went to where Tristan stood watching the other competitors. “Look there by the last tent. Who are they?”

  Tristan studied the group, his body straightening. “McLeods. I believe one of them came to our keep once as a messenger.”

  “Why are they here now?”

  “Perhaps the McLeod sends a message to the Munro.”

  “Go speak to them. Ye are married to one. Find out where the killer is.”

  Tristan gave him a droll look. “Am I to walk up and say, ‘Where is the bastard Ethan? My brother wishes to know so he can kill him.’ Is that it?”

  “If ye won’t, I will then.”

  His brother’s hand shot out taking his upper arm. “I will do it. Just let me throw the damned stone.”

  Tristan was a good brother.

  Kieran had always admired his brother’s even temperament. Tristan was a born diplomat.
r />   Unfortunately, the men didn’t have any new information. They’d not seen Ethan in weeks.

  Chapter Eight

  Ross Keep

  Ceilidh stood by the garden gate keeping her gaze away from the front gates as a group of guards returned from the north. If Ian was with them, she preferred not to know, not right away anyway. It wasn’t the place or time to confront him.

  Besides, it had been a good day. She’d just returned the day before after a wonderful visit with her family and Elspeth’s at their village of Kildonan. There was a celebration in the village and spending time there had been soothing to her soul.

  For the first time in weeks, she’d been able to not think about Ian and had not pictured him at night as she’d fallen asleep.

  He’d been gone more than present in the last weeks and perhaps it was for the best. It had helped her slowly get used to the idea that nothing would ever happen between them.

  “Ceilidh?” Elspeth stood by the kitchen door and gave her a quizzical look. “I have been searching for ye.”

  “For the last few hours, I have worked here,” she said as she motioned to the garden. “Why did ye not look here?”

  Elspeth laughed. “I came and looked, but now seeing ye wear a green dress, I must have missed ye.”

  Her friend from childhood was as close as a sister. When Ceilidh’s gaze moved past Elspeth to the gates, Elspeth asked, “Did ye see that guards returned?

  “Aye, just now.”

  “I had not thought any would return until after the marriage feasting ended.”

  “Perhaps they did not wish to remain. Tis not like they would be invited to partake in it.” Ceilidh flinched at realizing she’d just complained about the upper stations that her friend was now part of.

  “Do not worry. Tis true.” Elspeth waved at a pair of men who walked by. “Make sure to come and join us at last meal,” she called out.

  Ceilidh couldn’t keep from peeking. Neither of the men was Ian.

  Her friend gave her a knowing look. “He just headed to the front entrance to report to Malcolm.”