Highlander's Guardian

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Highlander's Guardian Page 6

by Joanne Wadsworth


  “I too had a favorite tree I climbed and hunted from. One day I shall have children and ensure they enjoy such things. Do you desire bairns, Annie?”

  “Very much.” She yearned to have children, and had since losing her parents. “I will have as many as my husband gives me.”

  “Then you’ll make a wonderful wife, and I only hope mine.” A twinkle lit his blue eyes.

  “I—” A drop of water splashed her cheek. The skies had darkened overhead, obliterating the clear skies as low cloud rolled in. “The weather changes as fast here as it does in the isles.”

  “Aye, it does.” James glanced toward the hills ahead. “Those storm clouds look particularly heavy that way. Mayhap we’ll ride straight to The King’s Tavern. An earlier meal willnae hurt us, and I dinnae wish to see you get wet.”

  “An early lunch sounds wonderful.”

  He changed their course and veered south-west toward the edge of the park. “You’ll like this tavern. I’ve enjoyed the proprietor’s hospitality many a time and the cook makes a hearty stew.”

  “Then let’s race. I feel the need for even more fresh air.”

  “Aye, what the lady wishes, the lady will have.” With a shout, he slapped his mount’s flanks with his heels and took off.

  Annie raced after him, his exuberance encouraging her own.

  * * * *

  Dark and ominous clouds gusted in as Colin rode toward his meeting place in the congested heart of Edinburgh. As thunder boomed and lightning slashed, he opened his saddlebags, pulled his heavy black cloak out and slung it over his shoulders before tucking himself lower and picking up his speed.

  The heavens opened and rain pounded onto the cobbled road. It streamed downhill, sending the pungent scent of the city from the streets and into the gutters. Along the roadside, two lively children squealed and dashed barefoot into their home while a lanky brown-haired dog chased after them.

  At the end of the street, The White Dover Inn with its boarded two-story facade appeared and he pulled up in the courtyard, tossed his reins to a waiting stable hand and dashed indoors.

  The inn’s crowded main room held a score of patrons seated at small tables, all enjoying a tankard and a meal. Leaving his hood pulled low, he walked toward Ian who sat hunched in the far darkened corner. His man was bereft of his clan plaid, his identity hidden under a hooded cloak as his was.

  He slid in beside his man where he’d have a good view of the room. “Is all well?” he asked, keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard.

  “Aye, Murdock waits in the forest. We’ve set up camp in a quiet spot near the park’s faerie stones, up on the ridge.”

  “I know the place. You’ve had no problem keeping out of sight?” He didn’t need the king or his men discovering there were more MacLean warriors in Edinburgh other than himself and Arthur when the possibility of surprise might be needed.

  “No one’s been able to identify us.”

  “Good.”

  A barmaid flounced toward them, a tray of tankards in hand and her bountiful breasts almost spilling from her brown kirtle’s low neckline. “What would ye like to quench your thirst, my lovelies?”

  “Ale will do, lass.”

  Raising an appreciative eyebrow, she set a drink before him. “A big man like ye must have a ferocious appetite. Should ye need aught more, holler out.”

  “I’ll no’ be hollering, but thank you all the same.” The cheeky lass. Colin swatted her bottom and sent her on her way. It had been three long years since he’d last flipped a lass’s skirts. Far too long, but he’d yet to meet a lass lately who appealed.

  “You never holler, no’ since the day you became Annie MacLeod’s guardian.” Ian took a swig of his ale and eyed the serving girl as she served other patrons at a nearby table. “Is Annie at court as you heard she was?”

  “Aye, and seeking a husband.”

  “You dinnae wish her for yourself?”

  “I have a chief to free.”

  Ian scratched his bristly jaw. “How do the talks between Lachlan and the king go?”

  “They’ve disintegrated. Lachlan now seeks his freedom from the tower, however we can arrange it.”

  “And he’ll have it. What do you need?”

  “Lachlan will be waiting for us at midnight on the night of the masquerade.” He took a gulp of ale. “I’ll meet you and Murdock at the rear of the stables on the morrow’s eve. Sneak in amongst the other guests and keep your identities hidden.” Suspicion would naturally fall on him and Arthur once they’d escaped with their chief, but there was naught he could do about that, not when his course was now set.

  “Will do. The clan will be pleased when we return with our chief.”

  “Which will also be when the battle truly begins. The king will send his men after us, of that I have no doubt.”

  “The king needs to leave us be to settle our disputes as we see fit.” Ian’s words rumbled fierce and low.

  Like his men, Colin too detested the king’s desire to stamp his mark of ownership on the isles, to control them as he did the rest of Scotland. “Lachlan will be freed, and very soon.” He clapped his man on the back. “We shouldnae linger here for long.”

  “Aye, Captain. I’ll see you the night of the ball.” Ian stood and quietly snuck out of the inn, his hood pulled low.

  Giving Ian time to ride clear, Colin finished his drink. As he was about to stand, the front door opened and a gust of wind tore in along with two hulking warriors. Both wore the MacDonald plaid, the man at the head none other than Hugh, Donald’s nephew and James’s cousin. The warrior was hard to miss with his oily black hair plastered to his head and red bulbous nose. Only what was Hugh doing so far from Holyrood when he too awaited word of when he could speak to his captured chief?

  Intrigued, Colin tugged his hooded cloak lower and slid deeper into the shadows.

  Hugh and his man eased into the screened compartment in front of him. The MacDonalds spoke in hushed tones, though with their deep Erse brogue, he could still make out their conversation.

  “The MacLeod chit is out riding with James. I saw her and a contingency of Rory MacLeod’s guardsmen leave with my cousin and his men. I dinnae know what James intends, but she’s no’ for him.” Hugh thumped his fist on the tabletop.

  “I cannae believe the MacLeod chief has given her the freedom to choose her own husband, but well that works in our favor,” the other man answered.

  Hell, the men’s voices were eerily similar to the two who’d walked past Annie’s chamber the night afore and spoken of tracking her in the woods. ’Twas the MacDonalds who schemed and intended to make Annie a pawn in the war between their clans.

  The barmaid returned, leaned over Hugh and gave him a lush view of her ample assets. “Can I offer either of ye men some of the inn’s fine fare?”

  “Aye, you can,” Hugh smirked as he grabbed her breasts and squeezed them. “Do you have a chamber, lass? I wish to enjoy in private.”

  The wench giggled. “Above-stairs, and one all to myself.”

  Hugh shoved to his feet and followed the maid while his man took a position at the base of the stairs to wait.

  Colin tapped his leg. Surely Annie couldn’t be out riding with James. Aye, she’d gone riding, but not with his arch enemy, or at least she better not have. He gritted his teeth, slid out of the booth and with his hood still in place, skirted the room and left as discreetly as he could.

  If Annie had placed herself in harm’s way, he’d lock her in her chamber and throw away the key.

  * * * *

  The heavens opened and the rain pounded down as Annie rode hard beside James through the forest. The weather had turned fast, but their race to The King’s Tavern energized her.

  James heaved his horse up before a swollen river and yelled over the whistling wind, “This burn is usually passable here, but with the rain sluicing down from the hills the stream rises fast. Do you still wish to continue on?”

  “We’re too close
to turn back.” The rushing water wouldn’t stop her. She urged her horse down the bank and plowed through. Waves surged around her palfrey’s flanks, but she patted its neck and nudged it up the other side of the bank.

  “We seem to have lost the others, but they cannae be too far behind.” James joined her, his mount swishing its tail and sending a spray of water flinging through the air.

  Behind her, a mist descended and smothered the trees. No sign of their party. “The storm worsens. I cannae see them either, but they know where we’re headed and I’m sure they’ll follow.” Soaked through yet still excited, she grinned. “Come, James. Our race is no’ yet done.”

  “Aye, to The King’s Tavern,” he bellowed and chuckled.

  She spurred her horse on and James rode hard on her heels.

  They galloped through the trees another furlong or two then crested a rise. Nestled ahead amongst the towering pine and elm trees, a quaint stone building with smoke puffing from its chimney, beckoned. This would be the perfect spot to enjoy the midday meal.

  “You win.” James beamed.

  “We’re no’ there yet.” She slapped her horse’s rear and cantered into the courtyard a mere horse-head in front of him. Giggling, she pulled her mount to a stop and handed the reins to a lad as he rushed out from the stables.

  James bounded from his mount, caught her around the waist and swung her down beside him. “’Tis been a long time since I’ve enjoyed a race quite so much. Let’s get inside and out of this rain.”

  A gust plastered her soggy red velvet skirts against her legs as he steered her toward the tavern’s front doors. She patted her wet head, having lost her broad-brimmed hat somewhere back near the river.

  The doors opened as they approached and a crinkly-eyed man wearing breeches and a loose plaid over his shoulders waved them in. “Come inside. The wife has mutton stew cooking.”

  “My thanks.” James shook his head and sent drops flying. “The rest of our party follows.”

  A flush-faced woman with long strands of gray hair trickling free of her bun eased past the man and wiped her hands on the brown apron tied around her ample waist. A stricken look crossed her face as she gazed at Annie. “Oh, my lady. Ye’re soaked right through. Come and I’ll find ye something dry and warm to wear afore ye eat.”

  “Thank you. That would be greatly appreciated.” She followed the woman inside and up the side stairs leading to the top landing. Doors led off either side of the corridor. She walked past a young maid of perhaps ten and three sweeping the floorboards near the end of the hallway.

  “This is my best chamber and ’tis all yours for as long as ye need it. It overlooks the forest.” The woman opened the last door and ambled across to a trunk beside a large bed. She pulled out a drying cloth and a clean sark. “Turn around, and I’ll help ye unlace your gown. I’m Maud.”

  “Thank you, Maud. I’m Annie MacLeod. The storm hit so suddenly and I wasnae expecting to arrive here as I did.” She unbuttoned her wet riding jacket and with nowhere to put it, set it carefully on the floor.

  “Aye, we’ve had more rain of late and the burn usually overflows its banks when a storm like this passes through.”

  “My aunt and the rest of our party were right behind us.”

  “I’ll keep an eye out for them.”

  “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”

  Maud tugged her last lacing free, came around in front and helped her shimmy the long clingy velvet and lace-edged sleeves down her arms.

  With her gown in a puddle at her feet, she shivered.

  Maud wrapped her in the drying cloth and rubbed her chilled flesh. “We’ll have ye warm in no time. Was that ye husband below?”

  “Nay, ’twas—” Heat flushed her cheeks. Goodness. She was alone, albeit by chance. “Maud, I need to ask a favor. I’m cousin to the Chief of MacLeod, and I need a chaperone until my aunt arrives. Do you know of anyone who might aid me?”

  “Aye, my daughter should be suitable.” She opened the door and called out to the girl with the broom. “Milly, fetch the blue gown from the trunk in my chamber and matching slippers. Hurry, lass. Ye’ve an important job to do.” Maud returned and held out the dry sark.

  Annie lifted her arms and sighed as the white linen fluttered over her head and swamped her in a layer of warmth. The girl with long brown hair and doe-like eyes dashed inside and passed her mother a gown.

  “Milly, meet Mistress MacLeod. Ye’re to be her maid while she’s with us. Whatever she asks, ye are to do.”

  She dipped her head.

  Annie smiled at the lass. “Nice to meet you, Milly. Could you help me with those slippers?”

  “Aye, my lady.” She knelt and eased them onto her feet while Maud laced Annie’s gown.

  “That’s so much better. My thanks to you both.”

  “Ye’re welcome. Take a seat and I’ll tidy your hair.” Maud picked up a brush from the side table. “Milly, take Mistress MacLeod’s clothing downstairs. I’ll wash the garments after I’ve served the midday meal and then return and dry them afore this fire. Bring a mop, and some peat for the fire too.”

  “Aye, Mother.” The girl scooped up the wet clothes and hurried out the door.

  “She’s a bright lass that one, and has quite the baker’s hand.” Maud smiled proudly as she separated each section of Annie’s hair. Mindful of the tangles, she took care as she brushed out the wet length.

  Before long, Milly returned and set to work building the fire. She lit and stoked it into life. Heat pulsed into the room and warmed Annie through. If only her aunt were here enjoying this warmth with her. Elizabeth was an accomplished rider and adored the outdoors as she did. She should be here soon. Worry gnawed at her.

  “All done and dry.” Maud set the brush down and eyed her daughter. “Ye’re to remain with Mistress MacLeod while she’s here. No running off to attend to other tasks unless she asks it of ye.”

  The lass nodded as she rose from the hearth.

  Annie walked out the door and downstairs, eager to see if her aunt had arrived. With Milly one step behind, she hurried into the main room. Each table was separated from the other by wooden screens. Warriors, farmers, and travelers enjoyed the stew and tankards of ale while they chatted. Her aunt wasn’t among them, or any from her party. She slowed next to the fireplace nestled against the wall and rubbed her hands as the rain outside pelted the narrow windows overlooking the courtyard. No sign of any new arrivals out there either.

  “Annie.” James rose from one of the screened tables attired in borrowed clothes. The black tunic and trews were too dark on him, but the red, blue and green plaid tossed over his shoulders lessened the austere look. A worried look creased his brow. “Are you warm enough?”

  “I am now, thank you.” She sat in the booth while Milly took a seat near the wall, not close enough to overhear their conversation, but in the perfect spot to keep a good watch. “I need someone to ride back to the river and search for my aunt. She’ll be so anxious.”

  “The tavern owner informed me when the river becomes impassable, one has to track higher into the hills and hope for a spot where it isnae too swollen to cross. I’ve already sent the stable lad down to the river to check. Dinnae fear, Annie. We’ll make the best of this situation and be none the worse for it.” He crossed his arms along the table and leaned closer. “If you’d like me to arrange aught more, then you need only—” He coughed and thumped his chest. “You need only—” He coughed again.

  “Are you all right?”

  “’Tis a tickle in my throat, no more.”

  Maud ambled across and slid a tray onto the planked table. She set a bowl of stew before them both, each dish holding a thick slice of bread wedged half into it.

  “That looks wonderful, Maud. Thank you.” She breathed in the mouth-watering scent of mutton and vegetables. “Could you save some for my aunt, please.”

  “Of course.” Maud sauntered to the next table.

  Annie scooped up the bread, took
a big bite and licked the richly flavored juices as they dribbled from the end. Hearty and delicious.

  “Is it good?” James picked up his spoon and dipped it into his stew.

  “Wonderful.”

  He sneezed and set his spoon down.

  “Are you sure you’re well, James?”

  “Well enough.” A gust of wind blew in and the stable lad hurried across and stopped before them. James stood and asked the lad, “Did you find any sign of our party having crossed the river?”

  “The tracks on the other side of the river gave proof half the riders headed uphill, while the other half, appeared to have returned to Holyrood.”

  “Is it possible for us to leave?” She rose to her feet as she questioned the lad. She couldn’t remain here when her aunt would worry so.

  He shook his head. “There’s no way through.”

  “All will be well, Annie. Your aunt has a strong guard.” James handed the lad a coin and thanked him. “The riders must have separated in order to find a way to pass.”

  “Aye.” What more could she do? She would have to wait out this storm. She scrunched her chilled hands in her skirts and sent a prayer heavenward for her aunt’s safe return to Holyrood.

  * * * *

  Colin paced Elizabeth’s chamber as she huddled before the fire swaddled in a thick fur after riding into Holyrood House drenched from her ride. He’d returned mere minutes before her and been given the message Arthur had left him. Annie rode with MacDonald. Never had such anger, frustration and concern raged through him.

  He knelt at Elizabeth’s feet and grasped her hands. “Are you certain Annie crossed the river without issue?”

  “Her tracks led up the embankment on the other side and away, as did James’s. Rory’s guardsmen even searched downstream during our return to be certain all was as we believed. I dinnae know how they got so far ahead of us, but they crossed the river afore the storm waters rose and breached the river’s banks. We could find no way to cross.”

  “You said Arthur continued up into the hills in search of a passable point.”

 

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