“And how many years have I been at court? I may as well be a MacDougall by name only. I don’t dislike Brodie Campbell, even if my clan hates his.” Nelson hoped his shrug and his attempt at nonchalance would convince the others. “Besides, after the wake of unhappiness Lady Laurel left behind, why does she deserve a happy life?”
“Does it matter? She’s gone, and I can get on with courting Lady Catherine,” Edgar stated. “Andrew and I are nearly done with the contracts, and we’ll send them to her father within a sennight. I need her dowry to repair the clan’s accounts after my ne’er-do-well relatives practically ran us into the ground. If anyone were eejits it was my uncles James and Tomas who started trouble with the Sinclairs, then my own bluidy father and brothers who nearly ruined us by taking on the Sutherlands and Gordons. I have much to make up for since Arlan and Beathan’s deaths.”
“Aren’t you sniffing around Lady Margaret’s skirts, MacDougall?” Magnus asked. “Why leave court when you could woo the woman and secure her dowry? I say the lot of us move forward and not look back.”
Nelson clenched his jaw and darted a glance at his brother Matthew, who feigned disinterest. They’d formed a strategy years ago of pretending to dislike one another. It meant they learned twice as much at court. But regardless of their act, both men were loyal to the bone, and they would do anything to advance their clan’s wealth and standing. If that meant making Brodie Campbell’s life miserable, then it was a sweet reward. “And why do you think I wish Lady Laurel ill will? In defense of my Lady Margaret. The hellion made Lady Margaret unhappy. I do it as a wedding gift.”
“I didn’t take Lady Margaret for being so bloodthirsty, but the Hays have brought aboot their share of bloodshed with poor allies. They shouldn’t have taken on the Sinclairs over Lady Deirdre or Lady Brighde.” Matthew raised his mug to his brother and sneered. “You pick the worst bedfellows.”
“Anyone ever notice how the Sinclairs are at the center of most Highland conflicts?” Edgar mused. He threw his hands up when Magnus and Seamus reached for their blades. Magnus was Laird Tristan Mackay’s cousin, and the laird married Mairghread Sinclair, the only daughter to Laird Liam Sinclair and younger sister to Callum, Alexander, Tavish, and Magnus. Seamus’s older half-sister Siùsan married Callum, heir to the Sinclair lairdship. Seamus fostered with the Sinclairs, and Magnus cared for his cousin-by-marriage.
“Don’t forget that they are also the center of the most powerful alliance in the Highlands,” Magnus pointed out.
“Do you ride with me or not?” Nelson grew tired of the conversation drifting from his goal.
“What do you intend to do? Kidnap the woman right from under Campbell’s nose? She won’t be out of arms’ reach of the mon.” Seamus shook his head. “I’m out. I’m not dying over Laurel Ross, or rather Laurel Campbell. Like it or not, she’s still Lady Sutherland’s niece. I’m not bringing the Sutherlands down on my clan’s head. I know the Sinclairs will side with them before they do the Mackenzies, even if I grew up there. And that’s not to mention the trouble we’re already having with the Rosses.”
“You wagered a small fortune on them, but you’re willing to walk away.” Matthew smirked before he raised his mug in salute. “Wise mon.”
“And the rest of you?” Nelson locked eyes with each man.
“I’m out.” Magnus rose from the table. “Even if I cared enough to get involved, my laird would kill me. Besides, he expects me back at Varrich, not wondering aboot the Highlands.”
Nelson to stared at Stephen, Edgar, Andrew, and Matthew. He knew his brother would ride with him, along with Liam. But the other three could pose a risk if they disagreed. They could warn the king or Brodie. Nelson and Matthew wouldn’t take that chance. Edgar was the only laird in the bunch. Stephen and Andrew were only representatives. The Gunns and Oliphants were at each other’s throats, so Nelson would consider Edgar’s death as a gift to Liam and his clan. Money and women were what kept them civil to one another at court.
“Aye, I’ll ride with you. The Gunns have no love lost with the Rosses.” Edgar raised his mug and toasted his pledge.
“MacBain?” Matthew looked at the last man to speak.
“I’m in.” Stephen sounded the least confident, but he’d placed one of the highest wagers.
“Then we ride out before dawn. Campbell will have stuck to the roads for her sake. We ride over land to catch them.” Nelson was pleased by the sound of authority in his voice.
“You still haven’t told us what you plan to do once we catch them.” Stephen narrowed his eyes, doubt niggling at him. His clan had barely recovered from their encounter with the Camerons. Lady Cameron was Lady Sutherland’s daughter, which made her Laurel’s cousin. The women were hardly close, but they shared blood. The last thing the MacBains needed were the four strongest clans in the northern Highlands descending upon them, and Magnus’s glare reminded him that his own clan would be forced to face the Rosses, Sutherlands, Camerons, Sinclairs, and Mackays.
“Don’t forget she’s Lady MacLeod’s cousin too,” Magnus whispered to Stephen. “Do you want them on your doorstep too?”
Stephen considered his options. He’d committed to Nelson, and he didn’t trust the man not to stab him in his sleep. But he didn’t need to start a feud on behalf of his clan, nor did he think he’d survive his uncle if he turned up at home to announce the six mighty clans were chasing him. He nodded to Magnus. He would ride with Nelson, but the first opportunity he had to leave the group, he would.
“Be ready to leave an hour before sunrise.” Nelson put coins on the table and rose. Matthew followed him, grinning at Edgar and Stephen before he and his brother left.
“We’re deep in the shite now,” Stephen muttered.
“Nay. But we will be deep in the coin,” Edgar countered.
“But everyone wagered Campbell would fail. How can you think that you’ll win aught?” Magnus knew he would lose money since he’d betted that Brodie wouldn’t woo Laurel.
“Because we adjusted the wager to how long their marriage would last. We never stipulated how it would end,” Edgar reminded the men who remained.
“You’re a fool, Gunn.” Magnus rose. He only tolerated Laird Gunn at court to keep up appearances that their truce held. If they’d been in the true Highlands, they would have already drawn swords days earlier. Magnus would ride for Varrich and warn his cousin, but he knew he would reach home days after whatever happened. He walked out of the tavern with Seamus. “My men and I leave as soon as I return to the keep. You’d do well to leave too, lest you wish to die in your sleep tonight. MacDougall won’t risk us informing the Bruce or Campbell.”
“Aye. That’s why I head to the keep now. We’d be safer if we rode together until I turn west.”
“Aye.” Both men hurried back to Stirling Castle, not casting a backwards glance at the town. The Mackenzie and Mackay contingencies rode out within fifteen minutes, putting as much distance between them and Stirling as they could despite the dark.
Twenty-Two
Laurel gazed at the stars as Brodie snored softly beside her. She knew she should be asleep, but it was her first night sleeping in the open in months. She’d traveled with the royal couple on summer progress each year the journey happened, but she’d always slept in a tent with at least four other ladies. This was the first time since her last trip to Balnagown that she lay out in the open. She imagined how the stars came to be, God placing each one. She picked out shapes by connecting the pinpricks of light. They’d made camp near a pine forest, and the heavy scent filled the air. It reminded her of how Brodie smelled after he bathed. She nestled closer to him, and he tightened his arm around her.
“Cold?” Brodie whispered.
“It’s all right.” Laurel patted the muscular arm around her waist.
“Can ye nae sleep?”
“I’m enjoying the stars too much.”
“Ye ken they’ll be there in four more nights when ye can watch them from our bed.” Brodie y
awned as he drew Laurel as close as he could, his heat almost stifling her. He’d opted for taking a longer route back to Kilchurn, but it would keep Laurel far away from Lamont territory and allow them to travel on roads rather than overland.
“I ken. But I havenae seen them this bright in years.”
“Are ye happy, Laurie?”
“More than I could have ever imagined.”
“All it took was the stars?”
Laurel rolled over to look at Brodie, careful not to disturb the men sleeping around them. “It’s nae the stars that make me happy.”
“Could it be me?” Brodie’s grin made his teeth flash white in the dark.
“Arrogant mon.” Laurel tickled the spot she’d discovered their first night together. “Ye ken it is. Ye ken what it means to me to be away from Stirling and to be outdoors. I wouldnae have this without ye.”
“I would do aught to keep ye as carefree as ye’ve been today. Ye are the thistle I’ve always said ye are. Ye kept apace with ma men despite the arduous ride. Ye’ve weathered the storm that was yer life at court. And ye’ve blossomed being in the wild.”
“Then ye are the sunshine, rain, and rich soil I needed.”
“Nay, Laurie. Ye’ve always found those on yer own. But I am the lucky mon who watches ye bloom.”
Laurel’s fingers trailed over Brodie’s temple to his cheek bones before brushing his stubble. She longed to tell him how she felt, but she didn’t want to ruin the moment. She recalled Brodie’s handfast vows, and the ones said outside the kirk. She prayed one day he would feel the love he pledged. She never imagined it would mean so much to her. She certainly hadn’t when she met him. But now, she hoped to inspire it.
“What’re ye thinking aboot?” Brodie’s voice broke into her thoughts.
“That I couldnae conceive that we’d marry when I met ye. I didna believe I could be this happy. I nay longer fear that ye married me because of a wager or because ye were forced. I dinna even care how it came aboot.”
“It came aboot because ye were meant to be ma wife. I ken I should feel guilty that I dinna grieve Eliza, but I canna when I’m so happy to have found ye. I ken I should feel guilty for that too, but I canna muster aught but happiness.”
“I may never understand how ye knew me so well from the start. I ken now that we think much the same, but that didna guarantee ye would know me as I really am, or that ye would even like who I am. I still think it’s because ye’re auld.” Laurel stifled a giggle when Brodie tickled her. At twelve years her senior, she’d questioned what their life would be like as he aged sooner than she did. She feared being left a widow all too soon and the years she would be left on her own. But Laurel would seize every moment, every month and year she had with Brodie, and cherish all of them.
“Dinna question ma wisdom, lass,” Brodie chortled before he kissed her. “We have another long day tomorrow. Ye should sleep while ye can.”
“I ken. I’m ready to now.” As if on cue, Laurel yawned. “With the stars overhead, and ye beside me, I suspect it will be the best night’s sleep I’ve gotten in ages.” They shifted to be more comfortable, and by morning, Laurel knew she’d been right. She woke refreshed, ready to face another day that brought her closer to her new home.
Laurel rode in the middle of the party as they approached the village of Locherhead, which lay at the foot of Loch Earn. She’d never heard of the village, but it reminded her of all the other Highland ones she’d passed through over the years. People moved about the village square as women fetched buckets of water and men herded animals toward the ferry that would take them to St. Fillans at the other end of the waterway.
It was nearly midday, and Laurel’s belly rumbled. She was glad the ding of animals and people kept anyone from hearing it. She discovered that the fresh air did wonders for her appetite. It was also likely because the kirtle she wore was older and material had given. Coupled with Brodie loosening the laces, Laurel breathed easier and could eat more comfortably. She gazed at an enormous castle at the far end of the road they traveled. She also breathed easier knowing that they were nearing Campbell territory, and even members from a lesser sept lived in the area.
“Lass, we’ll stop for the midday meal and to let the animals rest.” Brodie broke into her musings as the group neared an inn. They’d traveled along the foothills to the Trossachs. She’d seen the peak of Ben Vorlich an hour earlier as they passed through a glen. The route had been rocky and uneven, so she was glad to let Teine rest before they carried on. She also looked forward to stretching her legs and giving her backside a reprieve after the jarring ride.
“Thank you. I’m quite hungry.”
“I ken. Your belly signaled it was time to eat nearly a half hour ago.” Brodie’s grin made Laurel scowl, but it was in jest. He helped her from the saddle and grasped her upper arms as she steadied herself. “Let’s feed you.”
“Yes, please.” The couple moved toward the door of the inn, but movement to their left made Laurel peer behind Brodie. She thought she’d seen Stephen MacBain, but she reminded herself that was impossible since the man was likely still at Stirling Castle. And even if he headed home, he wouldn’t be on the same route as the Campbells, and Laurel reasoned he couldn’t have arrived ahead of them unless he’d ridden through the night and for two days straight. She pushed aside the notion and entered the inn with Brodie.
She took a seat on a bench between Brodie and Graham, who she’d immediately liked when she met him. He reminded her of Donnan, and he’d put her at ease. She didn’t doubt that he wondered why his laird married Laurel, but he’d been polite every time she encountered him. She hadn’t determined where Michael disappeared to the day Brodie returned. She was certain he hadn’t been in the bailey when she went to the kirk, nor was he there while she waited. But she recalled finding him with the other Campbell men when she went to thank them. She supposed he’d sought rest while he could. All the men appeared to be on their last leg by the end of the ceremony. There was something about Michael that put her on edge, so she avoided him when she could.
“Rest for a while, Laurie.” Brodie kissed her forehead when they finished eating. “I’m going to check the horses and add to our provisions. I fear we may encounter foul weather as we climb higher. If we’re delayed, I would prefer more food with us in case there isn’t much to hunt.”
Laurel was eager to arrive at Kilchurn, but she wasn’t in a rush to get back onto Teine. She loved her steed, and she loved riding, but she could admit—at least to herself—that the journey was not the same as a jaunt across a meadow. She watched as Brody and Graham left the tavern. Two men remained, and one was Michael. She pretended to be interested in her mug of ale to avoid having to make conversation with the man who made her uneasy.
“Too high and mighty for the likes of us.” Laurel heard Michael, even though he kept his voice low. She wished she didn’t have better-than-average hearing. It meant she caught conversations not intended for her. “Can’t even bother to look in our direction.”
Laurel wanted to prove she didn’t consider herself superior to either of the men, but to look in their direction now meant admitting she heard them. She opted for another tack. Grabbing her mug, she moved toward the counter but stopped before the men. “Would you like another pint?”
Both men narrowed their eyes at her as if they could determine an ulterior motive. Michael nodded. Laurel took that as progress. She moved toward the counter where the tavern keeper stood. The inn was more crowded than she’d expected, but the crowd was respectful. She didn’t fear moving around, and Brodie hadn’t warned against it.
“May I have another pint of watered ale for me, and two pints of ale for my husband’s men?” The barkeep nodded, but he didn’t refill Laurel’s mug before Michael stepped next to her.
“The laird is ready to leave, ma lady.” Laurel looked back at the door, but Brodie wasn’t there. “He sent Danny to fetch us.” Laurel looked again, but the man Brodie introduced as his best ri
der wasn’t in sight. “He went back to the horses. The laird took several to the farrier to have their shoes checked. We’re to meet him there.”
Laurel paused for a long moment before she agreed. She followed Michael, and the guard whose name she couldn’t remember followed her. When they left the dim tavern, the early afternoon sun blinded Laurel. She tried to shield her eyes, but they watered, nonetheless. She relied on Michael to lead the way while she tried to adjust. She thought she’d seen the horseshoe fitter’s workshop from atop Teine, so she wondered why they moved in the opposite direction. She heard the noise coming from the ferry landing and was certain they headed in the wrong direction. They entered a crowded portion of the village, and Laurel realized it was market day. She reached out to tap Michael’s shoulder to ask if they were going the right way, but he slipped between men standing ahead of them. Laurel turned back to look for the other guard, but he was nowhere in sight.
Laurel had been to enough markets not to fear being lost. She would find a merchant and ask where she could find the farrier. She spotted a woman selling apples that she thought might help her. She was within earshot when Edgar Gunn stepped in front of her. She reared back, surprised to find him in the village. She discovered Stephen standing beside him. It hadn’t been her imagination. But just as she knew Stephen shouldn’t be in Locherhead if he was bound for home, she knew Edgar shouldn’t be either. He would have taken the same route as she if Laurel was returning to Balnagown.
“Lady Campbell,” Edgar extended his hand for hers. She looked at his upturned palm before placing hers above his. She nearly snatched it back when his fingers wrapped around the sides of her hand and lifted it to his lips. They skimmed her skin, and she wished to wipe her hand against her skirts.
A Hellion at the Highland Court: A Rags to Riches Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 9) Page 18