A Hellion at the Highland Court: A Rags to Riches Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 9)

by Celeste Barclay

  The Lamonts arrows were within striking distance as the Rosses barreled across the open grassland. The arrows imbedded in the ground around the horses’ hooves as they churned up the soil beneath them. A battle cry made her look toward her attackers. A man on an enormous pure white stallion charged toward her, his sword pointing at her. She recognized David Lamont in an instant. She also recognized that she was his sole target. She had no weapons, and even if she had, she still would have been no match for David. Donnan and the Ross guards noticed him at the same time, shifting their formation to shield Laurel. Rather than surrounding her, they rode two-wide on her left.

  Laurel turned her attention back to where they headed. Her eyes swept the landscape, scanning for anywhere that offered them protection. But there was nothing. Her head whipped around when a pained whinny came from beside her. The horse had an arrow protruding from its neck, and a matching one stuck out from its rider’s neck. The horse and man fell away, but she and the other Rosses continued their mad dash as they tried to put distance between them and their pursuers. It felt like only a heartbeat later that another Ross fell. Laurel looked at Donnan, noticing for the first time that a splintered arrow stuck out from his bicep. She hadn’t seen it strike him, nor seen him snap it off.

  “Donnan!” Laurel cried over the sound of the horses’ pounding hooves.

  “Ride!” Donnan didn’t look at her, his attention focused on the men drawing closer. Laurel looked ahead once more and witnessed a band of riders approaching.

  “Donnan! Ahead of us!” Laurel couldn’t tell who the men were, but they were riding as swiftly toward them as the Lamonts were.

  “Monty,” Donnan barked. Laurel strained to see, unsure how Donnan had already noticed her brother’s hair. But as their horses ate up the distance that separated them, Laurel knew Donnan was right. Beside Monty rode her husband. She kept her eyes on Brodie, praying over and over that she could just reach him. Her attention was so singular that she didn’t see David Lamont until his sword flashed in her peripheral vision. She looked at him, shocked to find him so close. David felled the third Ross when he impaled him. He withdrew his sword, locked eyes with Laurel, and grinned.

  Laurel knew how Eliza died. Brodie had finally admitted it, and she saw her life pass before her eyes. But instead of seeing her own face, she saw a faceless dark-haired girl. Laurel was certain David intended for her to have the same fate as Eliza. Laurel refused to consider it. The only fate she accepted was growing old with Brodie. Lamont men drew alongside David, their attention on Donnan and her last guard. The Lamonts engaged Donnan and the other Ross, forcing them away from Laurel.

  “Come on, Teine. Just like it used to be,” Laurel said to her horse. The gelding’s ear twitched as though he understood her. She’d spent hours riding her horse once Teine was old enough to take a rider. They’d raced across Ross land, her guards charging along with her. But her best rides were with Monty and Donnan. They encouraged her daredevil nature, but they drew the line at some of her more reckless stunts. But it hadn’t stopped Laurel from trying them. She’d fallen from Teine more than once, but she blamed only herself. She kicked her left foot free of the stirrup as David came closer. When he swung in a wide arch, she leaned away, bringing her left leg onto the seat of her saddle while holding tight to the reins. Her body pressed along her horse’s flank. Teine whinnied when the tip of David’s sword slashed his ear. But Laurel trusted her mount. Teine didn’t slow. Laurel was certain he moved faster. Glancing over the top of Teine’s neck, she saw David watch her in shock. Pushing with all the strength she could muster in her right leg, she righted herself.

  Laurel saw Brodie and Monty drawing closer, but they still weren’t near enough to protect her. Donnan was free of his attacker and racing after David and her. Teine wasn’t a trained warhorse, but he had a foul temper to match Laurel’s when he felt others encroached. Laurel whipped her steed around, and Teine barred his teeth at David’s horse. Despite clearly being an experienced warhorse, the Lamont’s horse was unprepared to come face-to-face with Teine. Laurel loosened the reins, pulling back as she leaned back. Teine followed the command. He reared, his front hooves striking out at David’s horse. She’d practiced the move with Teine countless times, but he’d always pawed the air, making him look like he danced on his hind legs. Now he fought with the valiance of a trained destrier.

  Teine’s right hoof struck David’s horse in the face. The Lamont struggled to maintain control, unprepared for the attack. It was obvious to Laurel that David and his mount were used to David controlling the beast with only one hand, but she’d caught them both unaware. She slackened the reins, and Teine chomped toward David’s horse. His teeth clamped the end of the other animal’s nose. Laurel saw the blood before Teine pulled away. She steered him right as David swung his sword again. Laurel pushed herself forward, out of the saddle and over Teine’s neck. David’s sword struck her saddle where she’d sat a moment ago. She slid back into her seat as Teine kicked out his back legs. They struck David’s mount in the face. Still angry, Teine bucked again, striking the other horse in the neck and pushing it sideways. Laurel swung Teine around once more, intending to ride past David and out of his reach, but Teine disagreed. The Lamont’s horse had nipped his arse. Laurel squeezed her legs and clung to the reins, unprepared for Teine to rear again. But she swore she would give her steed every carrot and apple she could find, and all the hay the horse could manage when he unseated David. Teine barreled forward, and to avoid another ferocious attack, the other horse sidestepped. He knocked David to the ground and shied away.

  “Clì.” Laurel commanded Teine to the left then to go. “Ir.” Teine lurched forward until he stood over David. She commanded him to step. “Ceum.”

  Teine stomped down each time Laurel gave the command. By the fifth time, David’s face was mangled, and Laurel was certain he was dead. She reined Teine in, waiting to see if David moved or made a sound. She noticed Donnan fought another man, and she couldn’t see the last Ross guard. Sound coming from her right made her look up. Brodie’s hair flew behind him, his sword in one hand, the reins in the other. He looked like an avenging angel. He also looked enraged. She wondered if her husband would send her to heaven or hell.

  Brodie entered the meadow to the horror of the Lamonts’ attack on Laurel and her guards. He watched as his wife charged toward him as she sought to flee her pursuers. His mind absorbed the scene, taking in the sounds of the Lamonts’ battle cry, the swish of arrows flying toward him, and the clatter of horses’ hooves as he and his men, along with the Rosses, charged toward Laurel. He scanned the battlefield, noticing the Lamonts were far greater in number than Graham saw from Ben More. He watched in horror as they drew closer to Laurel from three sides.

  Fear had never driven him in battle before that day. He’d always had a healthy respect for the fragility of life. Trepidation came to every warrior, and it kept them vigilant. Duty spurred Brodie to act when the Lamonts attacked the last time and took his first wife’s life. As he watched David Lamont draw closer to Laurel, terror unlike he’d ever imagined possessed him. He would later understand it came from love, but as he fought to make his way to Laurel, it was heart-pounding, lung-crushing fear. He swung his sword indiscriminately at any man or beast who thought to keep him from his wife.

  As he charged forward, the scene before his eyes flashed to the one where David Lamont rode for Eliza, and he watched his first bride cut down. He was certain he was about to witness the same scene played out but with Laurel this time. His chest would surely explode as he witnessed Laurel pitch sideways from her saddle. Brodie called her name, convinced her horse’s hooves would pummel and kill her.

  “She did it!” Monty cried. Brodie spared Monty a glance and saw the determination that formed when they entered the glen be replaced by beaming pride. He couldn’t process what he saw, so he turned back to Laurel. He watched in horror as her steed reared, convinced the gelding would throw her. Fear took a moment’s repriev
e as astonishment took hold. He’d never imagined Teine would be so ferocious as he witnessed the animal attack David Lamont’s mount. Teine’s stamina and speed had impressed him, but he hadn’t foreseen the animal’s strength and tenacity. It matched his owner. Brodie swore he would give Teine the best stall in his stables and the choicest treats.

  Laurel’s name died on his lips as he watched David fall from his horse. He heard Laurel’s commands as he drew nearer. She ordered the horse to step over and over as her billowing copper mane gave her the appearance of a warrior goddess. No other moment in their courtship had ever given him the surety that he’d chosen the right woman to lead his clan alongside him. He would forsake his lairdship, his clan, and his life if there was a better way to protect Laurel as he battled to reach her. But rather than panic and attempt to flee, she defended herself without a weapon. He chided himself. Teine was the most powerful weapon she could wield. As he called out Laurel’s name, he had a moment of clarity. Deeming her the warrior goddess he saw wasn’t a mere similarity. It was in truth. His hellion had been born of the Highlands and drew her strength from the earth that surrounded her, just like the thistle. This was where she was meant to be. This was her home. Not the rigidity and insincerity of court. It was the wildness that set her free.

  “Laurel!” Brodie bellowed again as her head whipped toward him. She turned Teine toward her husband and brother, spurring the horse again. His men and the Rosses had remained together despite how the Lamonts fought to break through their ranks. He looked at Monty. “Lead.”

  Laurel fell into place at Brodie’s right, away from the oncoming Lamonts. The Ross and Campbell warriors surrounded Brodie and her. She kept low over Teine’s withers as arrows continued to fly toward them. She heard more men cry out, but she didn’t dare shift her attention as she rode in the pack. She’d breathed a moment’s ease when she watched Donnan fall into the lead alongside Monty. Blood soaked his sleeve, but he appeared to maintain his strength as that arm controlled his horse while the other was ready to slash and stab with his sword.

  “We lose them at Ben Lui!” Monty called back. Brodie shared the same thought, even though hours earlier they’d decided to avoid the mountain. But it would offer them safety that the flat land would not. It would be dangerous traveling along the ridges and over the peaks, but he and the others would fan out and evade the Lamonts. His men knew the mountain, climbing it in spring and summer for training and hunting. Brodie prayed there was no early autumn snow and that none would come. He would order no one into the hills during winter because of the precariousness.

  Laurel watched her brother and friend as they guided them toward the mountain. She’d never had reason to witness them lead as they did now. She’d never seen them fight outside the lists. She’d never caught sight of the resolve that turned their features brutal. They’d entered a fight that wasn’t their own because of her. They’d drawn her clansmen along with them. But as the men surrounded her and positioned themselves to be the targets rather than her, she realized she would never not be a Ross. She’d just become a Campbell, too. She owed her life to these men who defended her. But more than that, she owed them her respect and loyalty. There might never be an amicable relationship between her parents and her, but she wouldn’t forsake the Rosses because they hadn’t forsaken her.

  Twenty-Nine

  The climb up Ben Lui forced Laurel’s heart into her throat, and there it remained. Brodie barked orders that the Campbells would partner with Rosses and lead them toward different peaks, taking shelter where they could. Just before they’d reached the gritty path that began the ascent, Brodie shifted position to lead while Donnan and Monty bracketed her. She didn’t dare look back to see how their persecutors fared. She watched as the men broke off and nudged their horses off the trail and over the loose rocks and shale. It wasn’t long before Brodie signaled with his hand that they would veer left. Laurel set her heels back in her stirrups, gathered handfuls of Teine’s mane along with the reins, and kept her body parallel to her horse’s.

  It was here that the difference in training for her gelding and the warhorses showed. He shook his head and neighed, but Laurel cooed and encouraged him. She even pointed to how the other horses progressed without complaint, playing to her horse’s masculine ego. It shocked her when it worked. She knew it was a coincidence, but a grin tugged at her mouth before she reminded herself of the gravity of their predicament. Their sudden shift in direction and the added height gave her a moment to spy the Lamonts. They were far closer than she realized, and panic finally threatened to get the better of her.

  “Don’t look, Laurel,” Monty said. “They are where they are, and it can’t be helped. Focus on your own progress.”

  “Watch Brodie’s elbows. Know how he steers his mount, so you can do the same as you cross over the same spot. Watch how he shifts his weight, so you can follow,” Donnan pointed out. Laurel never would have thought of such.

  “Thank you,” she stated as she studied her husband’s movements, adopting them as her own, and finding it easier to handle Teine. She sensed her mount calm, and it added to her reassurance that they would weather this passage. As they rounded a hairpin, Laurel’s stomach lurched at the steep drop off into a corrie. There was no easy descent into the valley, only plummeting to one’s death. She looked back at Brodie and noticed the remaining men were disappearing into the surrounding crags. That left her with Brodie, Monty, and Donnan. She couldn’t think of any men she trusted more than the ones with her.

  Brodie’s eyes swept the mountainside as he led Laurel and the two men over ground he’d explored as a child. He’d spent over three decades traversing these peaks and valleys. He and his men climbed the trails as conditioning. Shepherds came into the hills to gather their flocks twice a year for their shearing. Brodie and Dominic had hunted among the peaks since they were old enough to carrying their own bow and supplies. He’d slept beneath the stars and daydreamed under the sun as a young man. He hoped one day he could bring Laurel back under better circumstances, so she could enjoy the breathtaking vistas.

  But his greatest concern that day was leading Laurel to a cave he was certain the Lamonts wouldn’t detect. He needed to put a greater distance between his party and those following them. He no longer dared speak, knowing his voice would echo and carry his instructions to their enemy. He’d heard Donnan’s advice to Laurel, and it eased some of his apprehension. He suspected the three riders following him wondered why he’d doubled back and descended several yards before climbing once more. His father had trained him and Dominic to use such tactics to lose anyone who tracked them into the hills. He watched the shadows the Lamonts cast over the lower ridges, knowing the sun worked in his favor.

  The four riders summited the first peak after nearly two hours of riding. Brodie knew they all needed to rest, but he feared most for Laurel. Donnan and Monty would endure longer than Laurel, and he couldn’t risk having to take her onto Lann’s back or leaving Teine behind. He wouldn’t allow himself to consider anything worse. As they came over the crest, he turned them back in the direction they’d come on the other side. He found the sheep trail he wanted and reined Lann in. In silence, the four riders dismounted and led their horses along the path. Brodie feared Laurel wouldn’t manage with her horse and long skirts. He looked back and found Laurel had Teine’s reins in her mouth as she tucked her skirts into her belt making culottes. He couldn’t resist the grin that spread across his face. He should have known his wife would have a solution.

  It was another half an hour of silently leading their horses before they entered one of the valleys among the mountains. It was narrow, but grass grew tall, and Laurel spotted ewes with their summer lambs. She startled when Brodie pushed aside a bush, stepping over it and disappearing. Lann followed his master, so Laurel followed too. She discovered she was in a cave that she never would have spotted. It was large enough for at least ten men and their mounts. There was plenty of space for the four of them and their hor
ses. Brodie led them to the back of the cave. Laurel suddenly found herself engulfed in a plaid she hadn’t seen Brodie retrieve. She looked around and the few stray sunbeams that breached the bush illuminated the cave to show Laurel the stack of supplies against the wall.

  Brodie could wait no longer. He needed to feel Laurel in his arms. He needed the touch to believe she was unharmed. He’d worried the damp cavernous air would chill her, so he’d made it a priority to add another layer over her arisaid. He pulled her as much as she leaned into his embrace. They held each other, too relieved to do more. Laurel closed her eyes as she inhaled Brodie’s woodsy and musky scent. It was familiarity and security, reassuring and soothing.

  “Laurie,” Brodie breathed against her hair. He knew Monty saw to Donnan’s wound, but he had no interest in anyone but the woman he clung to, whose arms squeezed around his waist. His need to taste superseded his need for touch. As Laurel’s head tilted back, Brodie knew their needs coincided. Their mouths fused together as they drank in the restorative powers of coming together. Brodie angled Laurel to press her backwards into the darkest corner of the cave, but he paused to look at Monty and Donnan. He knew Laurel did too. The men stared at one another, Donnan’s arm bandaged.

  “I don’t care,” Brodie called out with a nod.

  “You know?” Laurel gasped.

  “I wasn’t certain until now.” Brodie looked back at the two men. “If you feel as I do aboot my wife, then do as you please. I’m more interested in her than either of you.” Monty and Donnan stared at Brodie as he and Laurel disappeared into the shadows. They found their own dark recess to share their reunion.