“How many do we figure have been captured?” asked Alastair from atop his horse.
“Five men were captured,” Niven told him. “But it was only Brohain, Rhodric, and their friends.”
“Shall we head back to Scotland now?” asked Earc. “We’ve heard that King Richard’s army is already headin’ up the border toward Edinburgh, ransackin’ everythin’ along the way.”
“Nay. We need every man we can get,” said Alastair. “We will no’ leave before we’ve rescued the rest of our clan from the dungeon of Castle Rothbury.”
“But it was Brohain’s fault we are in this position to begin with,” complained Fearchar. “I say we leave them there to rot where they belong.”
“Enough!” Alastair held his side. The stitches had loosened, and his wound was bleeding again. “We will rescue them just as I would instruct them to do if any of ye were prisoners.”
“But my laird, our liaison has told us the English are already pillagin’ and burnin’ our homeland,” Earc explained.
“Then we’ll have to move faster.” Alastair turned his horse. It felt good to have his steed beneath him once again. “Hopefully, the castle willna be as well guarded if Lord Rothbury and his men have left to fight at their king’s side.”
“Even still, how are we goin’ to get into the castle to set them free?” asked Niven.
Alastair opened his pouch, taking out Fia’s bracelet, running his fingers over it in thought. “I have an idea.” Fia had told him that she and the other girls would sneak out of the castle to meet Imanie in the secret garden. If there was a secret way out of the castle, then there was a way in as well. “If all goes as planned, we’ll be able to walk right in, save the others, and leave before anyone even kens we are there.”
Fia, her sister, and her cousins watched as Lord Beaufort and his men once again prepared to leave the next morning to fight for the king. Now that the Scots were their prisoners, the soldiers and knights planned to join the other English troops in following King Richard into Scotland. Fia guessed they were keeping the Highland prisoners to use in a trade should any of the English be captured during the battle.
“I dinna like it.” Fia crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “They are goin’ to fight against my homeland. My family could be in danger.”
“Fia, don’t worry,” Maira told her. “Your father won’t let anything happen to your mother and siblings.”
“I miss bonnie Scotland, mathair, faither, and our brathairs,” Morag told Fia. “I am worried about them, too.”
Fia reached out and took Morag’s hand. “So am I, Morag. So am I.”
As soon as the troops left, a peasant boy came through the gates. He was young and bedraggled. He stopped some of the guards that had been left back to watch the castle, but they only growled and pushed him aside.
“I wonder who that is and what he wants,” said Willow.
“I’m goin’ to find out.” Fia hurried across the courtyard to meet the boy.
“My lady,” said the boy. “I am lookin’ for someone named Lady Fia.”
“That’s me,” she said in surprise. “Why are ye lookin’ for me?”
“I was told to give this to ye and that ye shouldna tell anyone about it. It is a secret.” He handed an item wrapped up in a piece of plaid that looked just like that of the MacPherson Clan.
“Who gave this to ye?” She noticed a drop of blood on the plaid as well.
“It was given to me by a Highlander on the road. He said to tell you to meet him in the secret garden and to come alone.”
Fia’s eyes darted upward. Her heart skipped a beat. Besides the girls and Branton, no but Alastair knew about the secret garden. “Thank ye,” said Fia, handing the boy a coin from her pouch. He scooped it up eagerly and then turned and hurried out the gate. Quickly, she unwrapped the parcel, delighted to find her bracelet inside.
Knowing for sure this came from Alastair, she felt leery but excited to possibly see him once again. He must have found her bracelet when she dropped it in the garden. But why did he want to see her and why did he say to come alone? Perhaps his stitches broke open, and he needed her to sew him up again. Her head told her not to go, but her heart made her trust the man. She wanted to be with him again. He was a Scot like her and, right now, she wasn’t happy being on this side of the border. Perhaps, if she went to meet Alastair, she could convince him to help protect her family and clan when he headed back to Scotland.
“Fia, who was that?” asked Maira as the girls walked up to join her.
Fia quickly hid the piece of plaid in her pocket, turning around to show them the bracelet.
“Yer bracelet!” exclaimed Morag. “Where did ye find it?”
“That peasant boy gave it to me,” she explained.
“Where did he find it and why would he bring it here?” asked Willow suspiciously.
“I gave him a coin, and he was happy,” was all she said, turning and walking away.
“Fia, you are up to something.” Maira rushed up behind her. “What is going on?”
“Nothin’,” she told her cousin, hating to lie, but knowing if she told the girls the truth they would not let her go. “I feel like wearin’ my crown today,” she told the others. “I am goin’ to go back to my chamber to get it.”
Fia hurried back to her chamber, getting her crown and placing it on her head. She wanted to look her best when she met with Alastair since he was a laird. She waited until she saw her sister and cousins head to the mews. Then she hurried down to the courtyard and took a horse, bringing it to the postern gate that was well hidden behind the gong pit. No one used this gate anymore, and most people had even forgotten it existed at all. It was covered in vines and hidden in the wall. It was directly behind the gong pit that contained the feces from the garderobes. The area stank horrendously. A new postern gate was built years ago at the east end of the castle.
Fia looked over her shoulder and then found the hidden key and opened the gate. After she went through, she replaced the key behind a loose brick, got on her horse, and headed into the woods to meet Alastair in the secret garden.
“Over there,” said Alastair, pointing to the castle from his hiding position on the ground. Niven and Earc were at his side, while the rest of his men were spread out. They were waiting and watching the outer castle walls. Alastair knew Fia was sneaking out somehow without the guards seeing her. He had to know how she was doing it, and how his men could enter the castle without being seen.
“It’s a secret door,” said Earc.
“She hid the key behind that brick at the top,” added Niven.
“Take the others, get to the dungeon and set the men free,” Alastair instructed.
“Do ye really think it’s goin’ to be that easy?” asked Niven.
“We saw Lord Beaufort and most of the soldiers leave, so the castle willna be well protected,” Alastair told them. “Get Brohain and the others and meet me at the border at our designated spot.”
“What about ye?” asked Earc. “Where are ye goin’ that ye’re no’ comin’ with us?”
“I’m goin’ to see Lady Fia once more before we leave.”
“Och, ye’re no’,” said Earc, shaking his head in disagreement. “Why would ye do that? We ken how to sneak in now; ye dinna have to meet with her.”
“Nay, I dinna, but I want to. I am a man of my word. If I say I’ll do somethin’, then I do it.”
“Nothin’ guid can come from it,” said Niven. “My laird, I beg ye no’ to go. Let’s rescue the others and head over the border to meet with the rest of the clans in our designated spot.”
“Aye,” agreed Earc. “Richard’s army is strong and large. Scotland needs us to join with the others to defeat those stinkin’ Sassenachs.”
“Just go and do what I told ye,” said Alastair, wanting to thank Fia for sewing him up before he left and never saw her again. “I’ll only be a moment. Then, I will meet ye there.”
With that, Alastair tu
rned and rode toward the secret garden to say thank you and goodbye to the bonnie Scottish lassie. It was the least he could do after she went against the English to help him in the first place.
Chapter 7
Fia rode as fast as she could to the secret garden, hoping to get there and back before her cousins or sister realized she had left. If they found her missing, they were sure to come after her.
They wouldn’t agree with her about meeting with the Highlander who had escaped. Fia didn’t care. She had to do this. Alastair must need her if he sent the message. Instead of having returned to Scotland, for some reason he was still here.
Fia only hoped she could convince him to stop by the Gordon Clan and help protect her family. She had a bad feeling about the attack by the English and needed all the comfort she could get to know her loved ones and clan would not be in harm’s way. But would he do it? She wondered. She could only hope he was thankful enough that he would agree to help her in return.
She entered the secret garden, feeling the dense air all around her. The place was no longer inviting and magical like it was when Imanie was alive. Now, it was gloomy and a little scary as well. The day was dreary. It looked as if it were about to rain. She didn’t see Alastair or a horse anywhere. Eyeing the gray clouds overhead, she decided to go back to the castle.
As she turned around, she stopped short, seeing Alastair entering the garden on his horse.
“Alastair,” she called out, making her way toward him. “I got the bracelet and the message. Thank ye.” She held up her wrist to show him the bracelet that she proudly wore. “How are ye feelin’?”
“My side is sore and some of the stitches need replacin’.” So he did need help, just like she thought.
“I can help ye,” she said, eagerly hopping off her horse. “Is that why ye sent me the message with the peasant boy?”
Alastair wasn’t planning on telling Fia the real reason he sent the message. Something in her bright green eyes drew him in, making him want to not only see her again, but also kiss her. He had been attracted to the lass since he first saw her in the woods years ago. She wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met before. She was brave, yet meek at the same time. And her demeanor told him she wasn’t as afraid of him as were her cousins or sister.
“Nay, that’s no’ why I sent ye the message,” he ended up saying. “It’s because . . . because I never properly thanked ye for helpin’ me.”
“Oh. I see. Well, it was the least I could do.” She straightened the crown on her head as if she wanted to make sure he saw it. Not that he could miss that big, ornate thing. “After all, ye saved my life as well as returned my crown. Why was that?”
The reason he saved her life years ago, besides not wanting to kill a woman, was because her heart brooch intrigued him. It brought back memories of something that happened to him that raised questions he’d been desperately trying to find the answers to for many years. Nay, he couldn’t allow her to be hurt, and he couldn’t steal from her either. After his experience, it just wouldn’t feel right. “I suppose I was too mesmerized by yer bonnie reid tresses to think straight. My clan dinna agree that I gave back to ye such an expensive item. The amount of coin from the crown alone could have fed our clan for several winters.”
Her cheeks looked rosy, and she seemed full of life. “Come. Let me sew up yer wound again. The needle and thread are in the cottage.”
Alastair looked over his shoulder toward the gate. His men would be done soon, so he couldn’t tarry. There was no telling if Brohain would want to kill Fia again and steal her crown once he saw her here unprotected. Then again, his side did need stitching. Not to mention, he wanted to spend a few more minutes with Fia.
“Aye, but we need to make it fast.”
“Why?” asked Fia as they headed for the cottage. “Lord Beaufort and most of his best warriors have already left to help King Richard. They willna bother ye.”
“Aye,” he said with a nod, not wanting to tell her that at this very minute his men were rescuing the prisoners from her half-guarded dungeon.
“Sit on the bed,” she instructed, fetching the needle and thread. She looked around and frowned. “I will need to go to the creek to get water to cleanse yer wound.” She started to turn toward the door, but he reached out and took her wrist to stop her.
Bright green eyes stared up at him, her smile disappearing quickly. Perhaps, she still held a little fear toward him after all.
“Dinna worry, I willna hurt ye,” he promised. “Just sew me up. We dinna need water.”
“If ye’re sure,” she said, sitting on a chair opposite him to thread the needle. She took the thread between her lush lips and sucked on the end, about driving him out of his mind. He imagined her doing that to him instead. Instantly, he felt his body stir beneath his plaid.
“Where did ye get that crown?” he asked, staring at the top of her head as she bent over and stuck the needle through his skin. He winced, but held back the pain, not wanting to look weak in her eyes.
“It was once Queen Philippa’s. Before she died, she left crowns for me as well as for two of my cousins.”
“An English queen left a Scot a crown? I dinna understand.”
“There is a little more to it than that,” she said, tying a knot and leaning over to break the thread with her teeth.
The smell of lilacs and fresh air wafted from her body, making him want to touch her. Slowly, he reached out and caressed a lock of her long, red hair between his fingers. It felt silky. Desire coursed through him, making him want to smell it too.
She sat up and blinked twice. Her eyes sought out his, holding curiosity as well as a little excitement mixed with fear. Mesmerized by her beauty, his mouth went dry. It was a chore to speak. All he could think of was pulling her into his arms and brushing his lips up against hers.
“Thank ye,” he finally managed to spit out.
He noticed her staring at his mouth now, and her reply wasn’t above a whisper. “Ye dinna have to thank me. I feel as if I owe it to ye.”
She probably could have said anything, and it wouldn’t have mattered. He was so taken by this girl that nothing else seemed important than the moment he was spending with her. Then, before he could talk himself out of it, he leaned over and gently pressed his lips against hers.
Like honeyed mead, her mouth tasted sweet. Her lips were as soft as the gossamer wings of a butterfly. Alastair cradled her chin in his hand, not wanting to do anything to hurt her. His thumb brushed against her flushed cheek, her skin feeling hotter than he expected. It was odd, but he swore he felt a connection to this woman, just like he had when he’d saved her life three years ago. It was as if, somehow, they belonged together. Fia was fragile like a child, yet in some ways as strong as a warrior. She seemed to take in every aspect of life, finding the joy in every little thing. Everything about her from the way she talked to the way she blinked held his interest. And she wore that damned heart pin that had haunted his dreams since he’d almost died on the battlefield.
He would have dared to kiss her again if she hadn’t lowered her head and turned away.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Didna ye like that?”
“I did,” she said with a shy smile, holding her hand to her mouth. “It was verra nice.”
“Fia, I have to say guidbye,” he told her, putting his hand on her shoulder. Her back was toward him. She reached up and covered his hand with hers.
“I understand,” she said in a breathy whisper. “Ye need to get back to the Highlands where ye belong.”
“Ye never told me where yer family resides in Scotland,” he said, wondering about her background.
“I am Fia Douglas,” she said, turning around.
“Aye. Ye are the daughter of the English king’s bastard. I ken.”
“My faither was raised as a Douglas, no’ knowin’ he was spawned by the English king until he was twelve years old. After Burnt Candlemas, he lived with Ross Douglas in the Highlands with th
e MacKeefes.”
“Aye, I ken the MacKeefes. Their chieftain, Storm MacKeefe is well honored throughout the Highlands as well as the Lowlands. So, ye grew up there as well?”
“Nay, I didna. My faither married a Scot. Her name is Maggie Gordon. That is where my family resides now.”
“Did ye say Gordon?” he asked, feeling his blood boil just at the mention of the clan’s name.
“Aye,” she said with a slight smile. Do ye ken the Gordon Clan?”
“Och, I ken them,” he said, wanting to spit at hearing the name. His hands balled into fists. “They are strong allies of Clan Grant.”
“Aye, that’s right. The Gordons and the Grants are guid friends.”
Clan Grant was the clan that the MacPhersons had been feuding with for years. They also held his father, Duncan, in their dungeon in the Highlands right now. Alastair had been trying to rescue him but had been unsuccessful. Everything he ever tried had turned out badly. They had never been able to penetrate the walls of the Grant keep.
“Fia? Fia, are ye here?” came shouting from in the secret garden.
“Losh me, it’s Morag,” mumbled Fia, running for the door. “I should have kent she’d follow me here.”
Fia ran out into the garden with Alastair right behind her. She wasn’t happy to see Morag, Willow and Maira, and furious when she realized they brought with them two of the castle guards.
“Morag, what did ye do?” She ran over to meet them as they rode into the garden.
“Fia, we thought ye were in trouble when we found ye missin’,” said her sister.
“Nay, ye fool. Why did ye bring the guards to the garden?”
“Don’t be angry with her,” said Maira. “When the Highlanders snuck into the castle and released the prisoners, a battle broke out.”
“What? The prisoners escaped?”
Willow relayed what happened. “Aye, they were rescued by members of their clan that snuck in through the old postern gate. When they left and we couldn’t find you, we figured you might have come here.”
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