by Paula Quinn
“M’ lord,” Cailean said. “I told ye, I willna be here.”
Temperance turned to fasten Gram with a worried look. So it was home to Camlochlin, then. Whether he took her with him or not, she would have to give up something.
The door swung open again and Patrick stood on the other side.
“Are we spendin’ the night, or are we goin’ through with this?” Patrick asked them when they didn’t move instantly.
They left the room with Murdoch returned to his place beside Patrick’s pistol, and made their way to the lord’s solar, picking up John Gunns on the way.
When they came upon any group of Black Riders, Murdoch ordered his men to stand down.
When they reached their destination, Murdoch ordered Gunns to bolt the door while he took a seat in his chair beside the roaring hearth. The rest of them followed his example, finding chairs and upholstered settees to sit upon, save for Cailean, who remained standing.
He turned to the man at the door. “Gunns, ye’re wonderin’ what’s happenin’.”
“The thought crossed my mind.”
“Lord Murdoch was never in any danger,” Cailean told him, and headed for the jug on one of the tables. “He’s allowin’ us to leave.”
“Everything you saw outside between us was staged,” the lord added, motioning to Cailean to pour him a drink.
Temperance watched the scene feeling as if she were in a dream. It was odd seeing Cailean so comfortable in the lord’s solar. Had they shared many conversations here?
“The fighting—?” Gunns asked.
“Nae.” Patrick gave his sore shoulder a rub. “That was real.”
“Neither of you lack bollocks,” Murdoch said, accepting the cup Cailean offered him. “Which is why I ask you both not to leave Glen Lyon but to swear fealty to me.”
Patrick smiled and untied his mantle. “I’ve already sworn fealty to m’ cousin, Rob MacGregor, laird of the MacGregors of Skye.”
“And you, Grant?” Murdoch settled his gaze on Cailean. “I have high aspirations for you. Stay here and serve me and—”
“Ye mean serve yer murderous son,” Cailean cut him off. “I must decline.”
“Duncan won’t be here forever. Just stay for a year, lad,” Murdoch pressed on. “My son will not rest if you take her away. I fear in his agitated state he will bring his fury down on Linavar. Men like Brodie Garrow and Tavish Innes, and many others, would help Duncan overtake the castle if and when he chooses to. I need men I can depend on.”
Cailean held up his hand, stopping Murdoch from going any further.
Temperance’s heart boomed through her ears. She wanted Cailean to stay for another year. But what if he refused? Would she leave with him? Leave her home? Her family and friends?
“I’ll serve ye, lord,” he said, pouring himself a drink and taking Duncan’s seat beside the lord.
“Cailean, nae,” Patrick groaned, and buried his face in his hand.
“I’ll stay fer a year.”
“As a Black Rider?” Murdoch asked with a hopeful grin.
Cailean turned to Temperance in a seat close to his and waited for her answer.
She wasn’t surprised the lord wanted Cailean to stay. Her Highlander was not only skilled, he was clever as well. But could she love a Black Rider? Would she prefer him to remain a mercenary for another year rather than leave her home?
“Aye, as a Black Rider,” he agreed when she nodded.
Chapter Thirty-Two
I have a few conditions,” Cailean continued from his seat in the lord’s private solar.
Murdoch arched his brows. “Oh? And what are they?”
“I will no’ reside here but in Linavar with the villagers. I’ll work with them and yer harvest willna fail.”
“Granted,” Murdoch said.
Cailean smiled, and for the first time in almost a year, he was hopeful for a happily ever after. He wanted to get Temperance alone and ask her if she wanted to spend her life with him. He’d promise to keep her safe from every harm. He’d write to her every night. He’d cook her favorite meals, and when the days were done, he’d take her to his bed and satisfy her every desire.
“We want every lass under Maeve’s direction to be given a choice to stay here or leave. Marion is informin’ them as we speak. Any lass who wants to leave is to meet us ootside.”
“But the men—” Murdoch tried to protest.
“Ye’ll give the lasses up fer a full crop,” Cailean told him. “What does the trade usually bring ye in value? The men,” he said, without waiting for an answer, “have told me that ye added the entire western wing yerself. That’s costly labor. Ye’re dressed well. Ye eat well. Giving up lasses who dinna wish to be here isna too much to ask.”
Murdoch slapped his thigh and leered at Cailean. “Do you fear anything? Offending me might be a good beginning. This wasn’t part of the arrangement we agreed to when you were chained in my cellar.”
“Neither was me stayin’ here as a Black Rider,” Cailean countered smoothly.
The lord glowered at him. “Very well. Is that all?”
“Nae, we want—” He stopped and addressed Gram. “What percentage of profit does he make fer our crop?”
“Sixty-three percent,” Gram informed him.
Cailean’s gaze darkened on the lord. “I think forty-eight is fair.”
Edward sat up and flung his cup into the hearth.
“I thought negotiations were left to the leader of Linavar.”
“He isna here,” Cailean answered, unfazed. “Do we strike our deal?”
Murdoch grumbled in his chair and then finally nodded. “Aye, we have a deal.”
“Ye’ve thought this through.” Patrick’s accusation wasn’t spoken in anger. “What aboot Camlochlin?”
Cailean caught Temperance’s anxious gaze and remembered Gram’s words.
The soil’s in her blood, inherited from her father. She won’t be happy with rocks.
What if Temperance wouldn’t be happy on Skye? What if she refused to go with him?
“Camlochlin will still be there a year from now,” he said. He would discuss it further with Temperance later. “This is what’s best fer all. And no one dies.”
“Except Duncan,” John Gunns pointed out. “Killing a man in a fight is one thing…”
Cailean turned to him and wondered if it had been wise to include him. Would he rush back to Duncan and tell him all?
“Oh, I’m not going to kill him,” Murdoch assured Gunns. “He’s my son, for hell’s sake. I was thinking of sending him to my brother in Wales.”
“And what is my role in all of this?” Gunns asked.
Aye, Cailean had wondered that as well. Why had Murdoch wanted to know who his friends were?
“You don’t have a role,” Murdoch told him, “you have a side to choose. Mine or my son’s. I need men I can trust. I trust a man who calls Grant a friend, though I had hoped there would be more than one of you.”
Gunns cast a knowing glance in Cailean’s direction. When Cailean grinned at him in response, the merc stepped back, as if it was the last thing he’d expected to see.
Murdoch continued. “Are there any others among the men who would go against Duncan with me?”
Gunns thought about it and then shook his head. “They are all cut from the same cloth.”
Murdoch’s face grew red when he heard the news. He swigged his wine, then swiped his hand across his mouth. “Very well, then. ’Tis just you, Gunns. Fight at Grant’s side for me. Or hang in the morning.”
“What the hell kind of choice is that?” Cailean turned to him with a dark frown.
Murdoch blinked up at him. “What? He knows too much! He’ll tell Duncan my—”
Gunns cut him off. “I’ll tell him nothing. I’ve been waiting for the day I could make this choice.”
“Then ye’re with us?” Cailean asked, and clapped him on the back when the mercenary nodded.
“So.” Gunns clasped his hands,
eager to get on with it. “What do we do now?”
“We wait,” Cailean told him.
“Until when?”
“Until the men all fall asleep, of course. There’s no reason to fight if we dinna have to, aye?”
Aye, he was a different man. He hadn’t become his old self again. He’d been reborn into someone better, wiser.
And it was because of her. He gazed at Temperance. All traces of joylessness were gone from him. He basked in the sight of her, hopeful and newly awakened to everything around him, mostly her.
“Are ye truly goin’ to go through with this?” Patrick asked while they waited, interrupting his thoughts.
“We’re gettin’ them oot, aye?”
“Aye,” Patrick answered. “But ye didna answer m’ question. Are ye stayin’ here?”
“Aye. I’m stayin’ with her fer now. Go home, Cousin. Tell our kin I miss them and I will return in a year when things have settled here.”
“Aye, I wish to leave this dreary place,” Patrick told him. “The urge for fighting runs smoothly through m’ blood, but I’d much rather live and bask in m’ fertile youth, in bed and on the field. I’ll help rescue any who need rescuin’, and then I’m gettin’ the hell out of here, with or withoot ye.”
Cailean nodded and then went to kneel before Temperance’s chair. He’d noticed her squirming a time or two and glancing at Gram as if there was something pressing on her mind. He had an idea what it might be.
“M’ love,” he said softly. “I can tell Murdoch that I’ve changed m’ mind. I know how ye feel aboot Black Riders—”
She shook her head, taking the hand he offered. “I can live with it, as long as he never asks you to fight anyone from Linavar.”
“I would refuse if he did.”
She smiled at him but then dipped her gaze to their clasped hands. “I don’t want you to leave Linavar.”
Did she think he would leave without her? He began to tell her that his life meant nothing without her in it, but he heard Murdoch tell Gunns to go check on the men, get them drunk if he had to, but do something to get them to sleep faster so this business could be under way.
Cailean slipped his finger under her chin and brought her attention back to him. He wanted to look into her eyes when he told her. He wanted her to see what she’d given him.
“Temperance, I love ye, lass. There are no’ enough words to tell ye how much, so I’m goin’ to show ye, every day, wherever ye want.”
Hell, but her eyes, filled with tears, sparkled like stars guiding him home. Normally her tears wouldn’t please him. But they fell onto a smile before she swiped them away.
“Would ye wed a Black Rider?” If she said no, he would tell Murdoch the deal was off.
“I would wed you,” she said, lightening his heart.
She turned then to her grandmother in the chair beside hers, who was obviously listening, and said, “I would wed him.”
Patrick, listening on the other side of him, clapped him on the back. “Ye’re fortunate to have found her, Cousin.”
“I know.” He turned, still holding her hand, and smiled, catching her gaze as she rose to hug Gram. He was fortunate indeed. Would he have been so merciful toward someone who had killed his father? But it was who she had been from the beginning, resilient and filled with life, even on her darkest days. The flame that sparked his heart back to life.
For one selfish moment, he wanted to deny Gram her embrace and pull Temperance in for a kiss. Just a kiss.
Soon she would be his wife, and he would have more than that.
But still, he wanted a kiss.
On the other side of the door, which no one had bothered to check after John Gunns had left it slightly ajar, Duncan Murdoch balled his hands into fists, cursed his father to hell, and then limped back to his room to get his pistol.
An hour later they stepped around a few bodies belonging to Lord Murdoch’s mercenaries. John Gunns had informed them that, growing impatient waiting for them to go to sleep on their own, he’d slipped a bit of valerian, found in the kitchen, into the wine and offered it up. It hadn’t taken long after that.
They entered the courtyard and saddled their horses against the bracing wind. Gram would ride across Patrick’s lap, and Temperance with Cailean. John Gunns was with them after Lord Murdoch had insisted he ride back to Linavar with them.
“Where are the gels?” Naturally it was Patrick who brought them up.
They arrived with Marion as he spoke. Temperance smiled when she saw Esmé and Beth.
“Is that all?” Cailean called out to Marion as Lord Murdoch helped her into her saddle.
“The others wish to stay,” she informed him, helping Esmé up behind her.
Patrick hauled Beth up with one hand and set her down behind him. In front of him, Gram patted Beth’s hand when the gel wrapped it around Patrick’s waist.
Temperance watched the freed girls and vowed to God and to herself that she would love Cailean and care for him until her dying day, and likely after that. Her father would have been happy to have him love his daughter.
Cailean was willing to give up his home for her. She could be his wife and stay in Linavar! But she knew she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t ask him to make such a sacrifice for her.
Oh, what kind of love was this that made her want to do anything to make him happy? Wasn’t that what he was doing for her? She had wanted this kind of love, but she’d had no idea how powerful it was. It made her want to surrender every part of herself to him, knowing he would cherish all of it.
“That went flawlessly.”
Temperance looked down at Lord Murdoch, and so did Cailean.
“Thanks to ye, m’ lord,” her betrothed said, smiling.
Goodness, but Temperance could get used to seeing that smile every moment of her life.
“Go,” Lord Murdoch said, “and keep your brother away from here. You did say he would be here by morning, aye?”
“If he thinks I’m in danger, aye. If he left the same day, he should be here by mornin’. Dinna fret, lord. I’ll tell him we are friends.”
Lord Murdoch raised his brows and then smiled. “Two friends. You’re getting better.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Edward Murdoch watched the last of Grant’s party disappear down the Munro. Flawless, he thought, and smiled in the cold darkness. He’d saved Grant from the whip, Seth Menzie’s daughter from Duncan, and possibly himself from a revolt with his son leading the charge. There was only one more small detail to be seen to before he rendered Duncan powerless and then sent him off.
When there was nothing left to see, he pulled his cloak tighter around him and left the courtyard.
He stepped inside his castle and looked around. He shook his head at the bodies littering the hall. How easy it had been for Gunns to deceive them. How easy it would be for him.
“Wake up!” he shouted, and began kicking the bodies. “I said wake up! Every one of you, and then go wake your brothers!”
“What’s going on?” Erik MacCormack stood and rubbed his head.
“I’ll tell you what’s going on! While you all slept, Grant and MacGregor left! I should withhold your pay this month. All of you!”
“We’ll go get them and bring them back, my lord!” another scoundrel called out. Some of his comrades agreed. There was still time to catch them.
“You expect me to send a bunch of useless men who cannot hold their cups to fight those two?” Murdoch argued. “Why, they nearly took you all down in the setting sun. You wouldn’t know what hit you in the darkness. You’ll go in the morning. At least then you’ll have a chance.”
They agreed and drifted back to their beds, gathering the rest of their number as they went.
Murdoch smiled.
Flawless.
“Father?”
Edward Murdoch’s heart sank as he turned to his son.
“May I have a word?” Duncan held his wrapped ribs with one hand and lifted a pistol with the o
ther.
The shot rang out, bringing the Black Riders running back.
Riding back to the hamlet, Cailean thought about how smoothly everything had gone. He’d been surprised yesterday in his cell when he’d asked Murdoch to let him escape and the lord had agreed. He knew Murdoch was fond of him, and Seth Menzie was a good-enough reason for him to want to aid Temperance, but Cailean was certain his brother’s pending arrival had had a lot to do with Murdoch’s unquestioning compliance.
No one with any sense in his head was unafraid of the MacGregors and Grants. Murdoch wasn’t a fool.
They had gotten out of Lyon’s Ridge and no blood had been shed. His uncle Tristan would have been proud of him.
He was on his way home with Temperance.
Home. Linavar would be Cailean’s home for the next year, and all the years left to him after that if that’s what she wanted. He’d see his kin again. Mayhap he’d take Temp and Gram home to Camlochlin next Christmas. But for now the hamlet was his home.
“You’re smiling again.”
He looked at the beautiful woman riding in his saddle in front of him. “Thanks to ye, lass,” he told her. “Ye’ve given back to me everything my heart has ever desired.”
“I hope to give you even more,” Temperance told him, with a provocative smile curling her mouth and sending heat through his body. “I cannot wait to be alone with you,” she continued boldly.
He couldn’t wait either, but they’d need a priest. He was sure Gram wouldn’t approve of their sharing a room unless he made Temperance his wife, which he planned on doing as soon as they returned.
They reached the hamlet and found it lit with torches at every door.
When Gram almost leaped out of Patrick’s lap, the Highlander laughed and caught her bony body. “If ye’re rushin’ off to yer kitchen, I could use a cup of ginger mead.”
“I’ll make a batch for all of us,” Gram called happily, taking off the moment her boots hit the ground.
“I’d like to see William,” Marion said, turning to go.