A Highlander's Gifted Love (Blood 0f Duncliffe Series Book 9)

by Emilia Ferguson

  Roaring, he ran at his target. He had thought his shout incoherent, but it came out in the form of a name.

  “Chlodie!”

  Screaming her name as a talisman, he ploughed into the enemy.

  The man fell. A shot rang out, but Domnall was already falling. He hit the ground, winded, and was grappling for the gun when he heard Bethann, beside him.

  “I got one. Nicely done, sir. Are you ready?”

  “Yes…” Domnall twisted round, gun aimed, as the first men ran at him.

  There were fifteen, he reckoned, this side of the tree line. They were mostly armed with rifles and he stood, running as fast as he could, aiming for the thicket.

  “Why did I do this?” he whispered to himself.

  They were on the same side as their enemy, now, cut off from their colleagues. He looked across the clearing, risking a glance.

  McLammore was there, still, and he thought he saw the man stare at him, horrified.

  Good.

  Then, dropping to his knees, he pulled the trigger again, aiming as he did it, a reflex.

  He saw a soldier disappear, thrown back by the impact. He felt the brief horror that he always did, at taking a life. No matter how many times he did it, the shock was still there, but he had learned to push it down, ignoring it. He wondered idly if it would ever surface again.

  I hope I just forget.

  As a bullet rattled over his head, missing him by inches, he had another thought.

  I hope I live to forget.

  He glanced at Bethann. He was reloading again, fingers fast and frantic. He looked across the clearing, saw that they faced ten men, at least, and that they were wary now, drawing back behind the trees.

  Good.

  He felt a grim satisfaction, knowing their plan was working. If they could just hold out a bit longer, here, they could split the attention of the force, help more men to rush them from their flank and overwhelm them.

  “Stop!”

  He screamed it, before the thought was fully formed. A coach was coming down the road.

  He saw Bethann turn sideways, saw his look of horror.

  Unarmed, unknowing, the coach was plowing its way straight towards the battlefield. A coachman, plumed hat on, sat on the driving seat. Behind him, a lantern swung in the wind. The coach was nothing to do with war. Some peaceful outing, about to end in horror.

  * * *

  He recognized the coach.

  “No!” he screamed, running forward. He heard a bullet whiz past, and another flew by, grazing his arm. He ran ahead. Behind him, he heard a second pair of feet.

  “Man! You’re daft!”

  He turned around, desperate to make Bethann stop. What he was doing was foolish. His friend, his brother in-arms, had no reason to die for his stupidity.

  “No!” he cried. “Go back!”

  At that moment, he collided with the coach. Going at a walk, it was heavy nonetheless, and he felt as if he’d run into a rampart. He staggered back, feeling blood run down his chin. Behind him, he heard Bethann skid, then fall.

  “They’re shooting yet!”

  “I know.”

  Rolling, Domnall came up at the head of the coach, which had stopped.

  “Go back!” he yelled, voice cracked with desperate rage. “Can’t you see? It’s dangerous!”

  The door opened. A face he had seen only in his dreams looked out.

  “Domnall?” she sounded disbelieving. “Get inside.”

  Domnall looked round. The fight was slowly winding down. Three of the redcoats were running, gunfire sounding from their side of the clearing as men took advantage of the distraction to aim back.

  He felt himself come to a decision. Looking round, he raised an arm.

  “Come on, Bethann. Inside. Quickly!”

  Bethann looked left, then right, and then seemingly reached the same conclusion. They were winning, anyway. They had no loyalty to serve further.

  Nodding, he ran closer.

  Domnall leaped forwards and collapsed, in an untidy heap, on the coach floor. He felt a booted foot press against his chest, where his wounds still pulled, partially healing. A second thump, and Bethann sprawled beside him, squashing his leg.

  “Go!” he shouted, though his voice was muffled by the tight space of the floor.

  The door slammed shut. They lurched ahead.

  As men ran to pursue it, shots distant now, they pulled out of the clearing.

  They were safe.

  “Get up,” Chlodie’s voice commanded, pleading. “Are you hurt? Oh, Domnall…”

  “I’m fine,” Domnall said. He heaved himself upright.

  He took a seat opposite Chlodie, sitting beside a woman he barely recognized. Bethann, he noticed, sat down heavily beside Chlodie, sprawling on the seat then hastily pulling himself upright, catching Domnall’s gaze.

  He turned to Chlodie.

  “We were ambushed.”

  “I noticed,” Chlodie breathed. “You’re sure you’re unhurt?”

  “You were with the Jacobites?” the woman beside him asked. Large dark eyes drank him in, as if he were a rope thrown to save a man from drowning. He turned to Chlodie, sure he recognized the woman from somewhere, seeking names.

  “This is Lady Adeline,” she introduced, guessing his thoughts. “She needs our help.”

  “I need to find my son,” Adeline said. “Did you see him?”

  “Son?” Domnall frowned.

  “He would be a lad,” Chlodie informed. “About eighteen, or younger.”

  Suddenly, with those words, a vision filled his head. A shadow, crouching in the woods, on the edge of their encampment, in the darkness.

  “Yes,” he said. “I may have.”

  * * *

  Chlodie stared.

  Her heart was already full fit to bursting, seeing Domnall. She had screamed, seeing him run from the woods, into danger. She rejoiced, having him here, safe, in the coach, with her, speeding south. Now, she turned to him with an expression of utter astonishment.

  “Seen Tam?” she asked. “How?”

  “It was at night,” he said, looking to a heavily built, square-jawed man who lolled in the seat beside her, and who nodded. “We were on lookout, in the forest,” Domnall continued.

  “You saw sommat in trees,” the well-built man said, catching the drift of the story. Domnall nodded.

  “I thought I saw the silhouette of a young man. He was trailing our troops. He was hiding there, looking around. I thought he was a spy, at first. Now I think perhaps he wanted to join us.”

  “How tall was he?” Lady Adeline demanded.

  Chlodie looked at Domnall, who frowned.

  “About Bethann’s size, I reckon,” he said, frowning at length. “A little taller than me, anyhow. It was dark, milady. I couldn’t see well. My apologies…”

  “That’s him!” The woman was smiling, nodding, her eyes bright with shining tears. “I know it! He’s really here!”

  She was grinning at Chlodie, who tensed.

  “We cannot be sure,” she demurred, feeling terrible. What if she had been wrong all along? She would never let herself forgive herself for fooling this woman with false hope.

  “I am sure, Chlodie,” the woman interrupted her, voice stiff. “It is him! My boy! He’s so tall…taller than me, as tall as Lachlann, his father. He’ll be a fine man, he will.”

  “He will, yes,” Chlodie assured. Inside, she felt worried. She glanced at Domnall.

  “Lady Adeline’s son ran off three days ago,” she explained quickly. “When we were at Duncliffe. We think he joined the uprisings.”

  Domnall nodded slowly. “Makes sense, milady.”

  “Chlodie saw him in vision,” Adeline said, making Chlodie stiffen. “She said she saw a young man, lost in the forest. She knew it must be Tam, for she also saw me, before she ever could have known how he’d run away.”

  She was shaking her head, as if wondering at some remarkable episode. Chlodie felt her insides twist
with apprehension. She looked at Domnall’s face.

  Now he’ll think I’m crazy and wonder why he ever wanted me in his life.

  She waited for the mockery, for the distaste. None came.

  “You have the Sight, yes?”

  Chlodie nodded. Her heart felt like it was flying, so completely relieved. She couldn’t believe it! After all she’d come to expect – the scorn, the distrust – to be met with complete acceptance astounded her.

  “Well, isn’t that grand?”

  Grinning, he reached across. She took his hand. She caught a puzzled look on Adeline’s face and squeezed his hand, briefly, then took back her own.

  “We need to go back,” she said.

  “We don’t know if the lad joined the troops, or not,” the sturdy man pointed out. Chlodie frowned.

  “You said you saw him…” she began, looking to Domnall for confirmation.

  He nodded.

  “We saw him, but we don’t know if he joined us,” he explained. “He was still on the edge of the encampment, looking for gaps.”

  “He would have gone to the leading officer,” Adeline put in, instantly. “Presented himself. My son is no vagabond.”

  “I know, Adeline,” Chlodie soothed. “We don’t know what manner of a man this leading officer is,” she assured.

  “A blackguard,” the strong-built man put in, cheerfully.

  Chlodie looked to Domnall, seeking information.

  “He’s a right fool,” Domnall nodded. “A bad sort.”

  “A fanatic,” Sturdy put in, grinning.

  “What are you saying?” Adeline asked, sounding in complete anguish.

  “Nothing bad, I’m sure,” Chlodie said, giving Domnall a stern look.

  “Forgive my friend, Bethann.”

  “I’m daft in the wits,” Bethann acknowledged, unworried. “And good day, milady. Lady Adeline.”

  He bobbed his head to both of them, courteously.

  Chlodie almost giggled, though it was desperately the wrong time for lighthearted humor. She turned to Domnall.

  “How do we find him..?”

  Domnall frowned. “You’re right we have to turn,” he said. “We need to rejoin our troops. See if he’s among them.”

  “And if he isn’t?” Adeline sounded horrified.

  “He needs to eat something,” Domnall reasoned. “So, he won’t have gone far. He found us, milady. There’s no way he would leave, until he joined us.”

  That made sense, and seemed to make sense to Adeline, too, who nodded.

  “You’re right, Mister, um…”

  “Lieutenant Dunning,” Chlodie put in, cheeks reddening as she realized she had thrust the poor distraught woman into the company of two soldiers without even an exchange of their names. “Son of Baron Dunning.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant,” Adeline said, incongruous in such a situation. Nevertheless, it seemed to calm things down. Bethann leaned back, relaxed.

  “And this is Bethann. Mister, um…”

  “Sergeant McCrae,” Domnall added.

  “Yes. Sergeant McCrae,” Chlodie finished, shooting him a thankful smile.

  Domnall looked at his hands, a pulse beating in his throat. When Chlodie saw that expression, her body, too, flooded with warmth. She hadn’t realized quite how much she longed for him.

  And here he is, not an arm's reach away now.

  She felt her hand move to touch his knee, realized Adeline would be shocked, and let it fall.

  The coach had been driving over bare ground, but now they seemed to have reached a sort of road. Chlodie, coming to her senses first of all of them, put her head out.

  “Where are we, Heath?”

  “We’re on the road to Lowkirk,” he called back. His voice was tight and Chlodie realized how affected he must have been.

  “Carry on until we reach the inn,” she said. They needed time to pause and rest.

  “What about…” Adeline began.

  “We’ll have to wait until that lot are dealt with before we find your son,” Domnall explained gently. “And besides, we’ll have the best chance of finding him if we make a plan.”

  “Of course,” Adeline said in a small voice. “You’re right, Lieutenant.”

  Chlodie felt a glow of happiness as she looked across at Domnall. The daylight shone on the fine profile, making him very handsome indeed. She felt a tingle of pride. He was so gentle, so comforting!

  He is exactly as a man should be. Strong enough to be kind.

  She looked out of the window, feeling her heart melting slowly.

  She had to see him alone, soon.

  They stopped at the inn.

  “Whoa, lads!”

  The driver called the halt, voice cracking with relief. Chlodie bit her lip as, looking nauseous with nerves, he opened their door.

  “Alight, milady?”

  He held out a hand for her to alight, and she took it, murmuring thanks. The men waited until Adeline had jumped down, too, before they followed.

  Together, they walked into the inn.

  Chlodie turned at the entrance, waiting for Domnall. He came to join her and they stood at the counter together.

  “We need a table for four, for luncheon,” Chlodie said, keeping her voice commendably level. Now that they were out of the coach, the memory of fear was starting to return. She didn’t want to sit with the rest and have luncheon. She wanted time with Domnall, and no one else. She turned and caught his glance on her. Flushing, she looked away.

  I have to see him.

  She had to wait until after lunch. They planned over luncheon, deciding that they would make the inn their headquarters. After dark, the men would return to the camp, to find out news. If they had any information regarding a new recruit of Tam’s description, they would return to the ladies there. Then, Chlodie and Adeline would come with them on horses, to fetch Tam back.

  “If he wishes to come,” Adeline said in a small voice.

  “He will wish it,” Chlodie said softly.

  She knew his mother was right – though a youth, he was old enough to choose to fight, should he so wish. Their only fear was that he had made the choice rashly, or been persuaded. It would be good to know he had at least chosen wisely.

  “I think no men want to do this,” Domnall said softly. “We saw enough fight already.”

  “I understand,” Adeline said softly. “You’re very brave.”

  Bethann, grinning, beamed at the statement. Domnall just gave a small smile. “You’re most kind,” he said.

  Chlodie swallowed hard, feeling her need for him overwhelming her.

  “I’ll settle the account,” Adeline said, surprising them.

  “Thank you,” Chlodie said softly. “You’re very kind.”

  Adeline just smiled, a small sad smile, and went to the front room to settle the paying. Chlodie, feeling tense, looked round at Bethann.

  “Excuse me a moment, sirs.”

  She headed out. In the stable yard, the sunlight was shining on the flagstones, warming the place. She breathed in slowly, and headed to the stalls.

  As she barely dared hope, she heard the crunch of a footfall behind her.

  “Domnall!” She felt her arms open almost without her volition, and he stepped into them. His strong grip tightened around her, and she felt her heart thud joyfully.

  “Chlodie,” he growled, his voice lost in the thick curls of her hair. “Chlodie. Oh, my love…”

  “I love you,” she murmured, though her voice was muffled by his chest.

  He kissed her head and then she leaned back, pressing her mouth to his chin. He chuckled and bent a little, so she could kiss his mouth.

  Then his lips, hot and questing, were pressed full against hers and she gave a little gasp as he almost picked her off her feet, tongue pushed into her mouth, arms tight around her.

  “Chlodie,” he whispered as he stepped back. “I need you so.”

  “I need you, too,” she whispered, shocking herself
with knowing it was true. She needed his presence as if it was fresh air, or warmth. She hadn’t felt right without it.

  “Well,” he whispered. “We have a little time…”

  “No,” she said, grinning. “Not here. We barely have a minute.”

  “No?” he raised a brow, handsome face inquiring.

  “Domnall…I have waited a week for you, almost. I am not about to rush matters.”

  He grinned, happily. “Well, then,” he said. “I think this will be worth waiting for.”

  She chuckled, feeling her whole body ignite under the touch of his teasing gaze, his provocative words.

  “Yes,” she said softly. “I suppose it will. I have certainly waited long enough.”

  “Is that a reproach?”

  “It can be,” she said, making a face at him.

  He laughed.

  “Well, then, I stand reproved,” he chuckled, reaching for her and making her gasp as his arms fastened around her again. “And all I can say in my defense is that I will try to be good after the long wait.”

  “You will try,” she echoed, smiling up at him, eyes sparkling with happiness.

  “Yes. I can’t promise, but I can try to make it up to you.”

  “I take that as a promise.”

  “Good.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her, mouth gentle, and she felt her entire body sigh and melt against his firm hardness.

  Later, they went back to the inn together. They were just in time to meet the party coming out.

  “You been checking the coach, sir?” Bethann asked.

  Chlodie caught Domnall’s grin, swiftly hidden. She wanted to laugh, but managed somehow to keep herself back.

  “All satisfactory, Sergeant.”

  “Grand!” Bethann made a face. “Never liked coaches, sir. Can’t be too careful. Four horses, a couple o’ wheels? Recipe for chaos.”

  Chlodie and Domnall looked at each other. She pressed her lips together so that she didn’t laugh, and she saw Domnall’s cheek jump, where he tried so hard to suppress his mirth. Feeling her heart soar, she fell into step beside him. They headed to the coach together.

  THE SEARCH PARTY