The Highlander's Bride

by Amanda Forester

  “Ye ken what I want. Bring me the dowry. The lass is o’ little consequence,” Red Rex sneered at him.

  “I will go and seek the ransom ye demand. But know this, harm her in any way and ye will die.”

  Red Rex smiled as only a man accustomed to threats of violence could do. “Stand down! Let him go.” The warriors stopped and stood aside.

  Gavin shouted something at them in his Gaelic tongue that could only be something of a curse, gave her one last longing look, and galloped out of the courtyard.

  Colette was lifted roughly to her feet. She watched as Gavin galloped down the road, becoming smaller and smaller in the distance. At least he had escaped. Now she needed to keep herself safe until he returned, for she had no doubt that he would come for her.

  “Let us show ye our best hospitality,” said Red Rex in a silky voice. He strolled up to her and ran a finger down the side of her face, along the edge of her veil.

  Colette shuddered at his touch, not wanting any part of him to be near to her.

  “Afeared o’ me? Dinna tremble, my dear,” said Rex, mistaking her aversion for fear. “My, ye’re a beauty. I shall enjoy ye.”

  “I shall never marry you,” declared Colette in a loud voice.

  Red Rex shrugged as if it was of little consequence. Colette realized with an unpleasant turn of her stomach that he intended to enjoy her with or without the formality of marriage.

  “Take her to the tower,” he commanded his men. He gave her an oily smile. “I will come to ye soon.” The threat in his deep voice was clear.

  Colette held her back straight and her chin up, giving him one of her most regal glares. He could abduct her, he could lock her in a tower, but he could not own her.

  Colette was led up to the tower, with two large warriors on either side. There would be no escape. She was marched up the circular stone stairs to a private bedchamber. She was ushered inside and the door locked behind her. There was nothing more she could do but wait.

  Gavin would come for her. Somehow, he would come.

  * * *

  Pippa sat on a large rock with the baby in her arms. Several rough-looking men had taken Lady Colette to the castle, where Gavin had gone earlier. If anyone could keep her safe, it would be Sir Gavin. But what to do now?

  “Naaaaaaa!” bleated the goat, who apparently had decided to make a belated appearance.

  “You have caused us all measure of ill,” she berated the goat, who merely attempted to take a bite of the hem of her gown. Pippa secured the goat and milked the animal, giving the milk to the baby. At least the goat and the babe were content.

  She decided it would be good to take the wagon farther into the forest. She did not trust the men who had grabbed Colette and she feared they might return. So she hitched the wagon to the remaining horse and walked the wagon with all their belongings deeper into the trees, looking for a good hiding place to stash it. She heard the babbling of rushing water and followed the sound, interested in a fresh drink.

  Sunlight filtered down through the green leaves, making a mosaic of bright patches of light on the forest floor. It was a pleasant wood, fresh with the new buds of spring. She was accustomed to trees, but here in the Highlands, they also grew rocks—rocks covered in bright green moss, rocks the size of boulders, rocks the size of a crofter’s huts. She knew her mistress had not been pleased to leave France, but Pippa could not have been more content to leave her homeland behind. She closed her eyes and breathed deep of the fresh forest. This was home.

  “Halt! State yer name and yer purpose!”

  Pippa was startled out of her happy reverie by the angry male voice. She looked around the forest but saw nothing but trees.

  “Who calls me? Show yourself.”

  “Answer the question if ye value yer life!”

  “I shall not! How do I know you are not a faerie? For this place could be enchanted, no? Step out and show yourself if you be a man.” Pippa was not in the habit of bending to anyone’s will. If someone wished to threaten her, she needed more proof than a disembodied voice’s word on the matter.

  A Highlander emerged from behind a large boulder to her left. He was a tall, trim man, young and clean shaven. He was wearing the plaid wrap that appeared to be the fashion of the Highlands, but on him it looked particularly well. He stepped forward slowly, a sword slung across his back within easy reach.

  “Are ye satisfied I am a man?” he asked in a low voice. He was a stunning contrast in features with black, neatly trimmed hair and bright, blue eyes.

  Was she satisfied? Not by half. She swallowed on a dry throat. “I have heard that the fey folk, they can take the image of a man. How do I know if I can trust you?”

  The man stepped closer. “I am a man, no more or less. What would ye have me do?”

  Pippa could think of a few things, but none that would meet the approval of her mistress. She generally had little regard for the male of the species, but this handsome lad made her forget. Besides, if he was anything like the version of man she had met in Sir Gavin, she was definitely interested in learning more about him. “What is your name, sir man?”

  The man smiled slowly at her. “I have demanded yer name, and now ye convince me to part wi’ mine. I am Ronan Mackenzie, the Baron o’ Kintail since my father quit the title.”

  “Mackenzie? We have been looking for you!”

  “Ye’re French, are ye no’?” His eyes opened wide. “Ye must be Lady Marie Colette, the one we have been waiting for. Surely, the description of yer beauty has no’ been overstated, for ye are a bonnie lass.”

  Pippa stared at the man. No one had ever thought her beautiful. Could this man truly have confused her with Lady Colette? It was shocking. A strange warmth spread across her face. It was amazing. “I…I…”

  “Forgive me, m’lady, for challenging ye. And here I have made ye stand before me. Please do come here and sit. My men will attend yer horse.” At a gesture, men appeared from the trees, lowering their bows.

  Pippa swallowed hard. She’d had no idea she had been surrounded. She followed Ronan Mackenzie around the boulder and down a narrow path. The path widened into a clearing around a lagoon, where a small waterfall cascaded down large boulders into a crystal clear pool.

  Crates of supplies were stacked around the pool and Pippa surmised this was where they had made camp. Ronan motioned to a flat rock, and she sat down beside the pool, her host sitting on a stone beside her. The rushing water was a peaceful sound and a rainbow formed in the mist brought up by the spray of the water.

  “This place, it is quite beautiful,” said Pippa. “Are you hunting?” she asked, trying to guess what they were doing making camp outside the castle.

  “Nay. In truth, ye have found us in sad times. Soon after my father sent many of his warriors to France to fight the English for the duc de Bergerac, we were beset by a fever that afflicted many. At our weakest, we were attacked by a warlord, Red Rex.” Ronan spit on the ground at the mention of his name. “The castle was taken and my father killed.”

  “I am so sorry.” Pippa touched his hand without thinking.

  He held her hand in his. “In truth, I had not thought to marry soon.” He spoke softly, his clear blue eyes meetings hers. “Yet wi’ the death o’ my father, I am honor bound to fulfill the marriage contract. I hope ye will accept this change.” He squeezed her hand. “I hope ye will accept me.”

  “You wish for me to be your wife?” Pippa stared at him in shock. The Baron of Kintail wanted to marry her?

  The sound of a baby’s cry had her jumping to her feet. “The baby!” She ran back to the cart and scooped up the little one, who was just waking from her nap. They turned to face Ronan Mackenzie, who stared at the infant with a confused frown.

  “Ye have a bairn?”

  “No, oh no, this child, she is not mine. She belongs to my mistress. That is to say,
we found the baby abandoned, her kin killed, and none would care for her, so we kept her with us until we could find for her a proper home.” Pippa took a breath, realizing she was babbling.

  “I see,” said the young Ronan Mackenzie in a voice that said he did not understand at all.

  It was time for the truth. “I confess I am not the Lady Marie Colette. I am her maid. Sir Gavin Patrick is our guide, and he went to the castle alone to scout it out, but then Lady Colette was discovered by some mean-looking knaves and was taken to the castle as well.”

  Ronan took a moment to absorb this new information. He shook his head sadly. “If Lady Colette and her guide have fallen into the hands o’ Red Rex, all is lost.”

  Pippa’s stomach sank. “Sir Gavin, he is a sharp one. Mayhap he can save my lady? If they could escape, they would try to find me and the cart by the road from the direction in which I came.”

  “I shall post men to watch for them,” said Ronan, and with another wave of his hand, several warriors left the clearing to attend to the master’s request.

  Pippa was left with Ronan, standing beside him in the forest. He was a handsome man, there was no denying, but he was meant for Colette. And Colette was meant for Gavin. And Pippa? She was meant for no one.

  Thirty-six

  Gavin raced down the road, knowing that he could not spare a single second in trying to save Colette. His mind raced faster than his horse, trying to devise a plan to rescue her. His stomach rolled at the thought of Colette trapped with the warlord.

  He slowed only when he reached the place where they had camped the night before. He wondered if Pippa would be there with the baby or if she had been captured too.

  “Pippa?” He called in a loud voice. “Are ye there, lass?”

  He waited for a moment, hoping that she would make herself known, but all was quiet. He pressed forward into the brush and found the small clearing where they had made camp, but no one was about. The wagon was gone and there was no sign of Pippa or the baby. They must have been taken, and with the loss of the wagon, Gavin had no hope of ransoming Colette before nightfall.

  Gavin slid off his horse to the ground. What was he to do? He had no army of men to attack Red Rex. He had no treasure to tempt Red Rex. He had no way to save Colette. She was trapped with that monster, who might be molesting her even at that moment. He sank to his knees, an anxious despair welling up within him. He bowed his head and prayed. Lord, show me a way. Help me, please.

  “Are ye Sir Gavin?”

  Gavin leaped to his feet and stared at the Highlander before him. “I am.”

  Several more men emerged from the brush, ready for battle. Gavin did not know whether they were friend or foe, yet none drew a weapon. “We’ve come looking for ye. Come wi’ us. The Mackenzie wishes to speak wi’ ye.”

  “Laird Mackenzie? I feared he was dead.”

  “The master is dead, but his son lives on.” The men turned and disappeared into the brush, and Gavin hastened to grab the reins of his horse and follow them.

  “Thank ye,” Gavin whispered to the heavens. It was not often his prayers were answered so quickly.

  Gavin followed the men deeper into the woods, where no path was visible. The sound of rushing water grew louder as they approached. It was a struggle to keep his thoughts on the events around him and not Colette trapped in the castle unprotected, but there was nothing he could do about her now except pray for her safety, and pray he did. He hoped the Lord would answer all his prayers as quickly as the last.

  The men led him to a river beside a pool of water beneath a small waterfall. He was relieved to see Pippa, with the baby in her arms, and beyond her the wagon and the treasure the warlord sought. Pippa was deep in conversation with a young man who looked barely older than Pippa herself. So focused were they on each other that it took a moment before they realized he approached.

  “I seek the son of Kenneth Mackenzie,” called Gavin. “’Tis a matter o’ great urgency.”

  “Sir Gavin!” Pippa gave him a wide smile. “You are not dead. How good of you.”

  “I am Ronan Mackenzie,” said the young man, stepping forward. “And the Baron o’ Kintail now that my father has gone to his rest.”

  “Forgive me, but I met another man today who has taken the title o’ the Baron o’ Kintail.”

  “Red Rex,” Ronan growled, and he spat for emphasis. “That usurper shall pay for what he has done.”

  “Bastard.” Gavin spat to show solidarity with the young man.

  “But where is Lady Marie Colette? Pippa told me she was taken. Please tell me she has no’ fallen into the hands o’ that demon,” said Ronan.

  “She has. She has been taken by Red Rex. He only let me go because he heard she traveled with a great dowry and he wishes it for himself. I am to bring him the treasure for her exchange.”

  Ronan shook his head. “Once he gets what he wants, he will most likely kill ye all. He will no’ stay his hand, no’ for ye, no’ for Lady Marie Colette.”

  Gavin nodded in understanding. He feared Rex was not a man to be trusted. “Then our only choice is to attack him. I hope to find men o’ stout hearts who will be willing to help me. This demon must be stopped. His actions canna go unanswered.”

  “We have sent up the cry for help among our neighbors and beyond. We hope to gather some o’ the clans and, within two months, have enough men to launch an attack,” responded Ronan.

  “Two months?” Gavin’s heart sank. “Two months is two months too long. Have ye no’ heard me? Lady Colette is even now at the mercy o’ that fiend. We must save her now!”

  “I understand yer wishes, Sir Gavin, for I share them.” Ronan stepped forward, his blue eyes bright with intensity. “But we are too few to mount an attack against the castle. We would no’ save Lady Colette. We would only achieve our own demise.”

  Gavin did not want to admit it, but the man was right. They did not have the warriors to fight the man directly.

  “What about the secret passageways?” asked Pippa, joining the conversation.

  “Pippa, this is no’ yer fight,” said Gavin, the fatigue catching up with him. He knew Pippa wished only to help, but there was nothing she could do.

  Pippa stood her ground. “Lady Colette was the only one who was ever nice to me, except for you, Sir Gavin. I cannot do nothing. Truth, sir, she must be saved.”

  “Unfortunately,” said Ronan, “there are no secret passages in or out o’ the castle.”

  “Oh,” said Pippa with some disappointment. “I thought all castles had secret passageways. They did in the stories she told me.”

  “There’s a difference between real life and a made-up story,” grumbled Gavin.

  “But Lady Colette always said stories could help,” Pippa persisted. “Like when I was so sick and she told me the story of people of Greece who wore sheets instead of clothing.”

  “Pippa, this is no time for stories,” Gavin said, dismissing her. “We need to find a way to rescue yer mistress.”

  “But that is what I am trying to say,” demanded Pippa, refusing to be brushed aside. “What we need is a big horse that is hollow inside.”

  “Pippa, yer brain’s addled. Go tend to the baby and let us figure out how to save Lady Colette.” Gavin’s concern for Colette had made him short-tempered; he did not have time to waste.

  “Wait,” said Ronan, turning to Pippa. “What do ye mean we need a hollow horse?”

  “We could get into the castle like how they tricked the people of Troy into opening their gates,” said Pippa, smiling at the young laird.

  “A Trojan horse?” asked Gavin, now interested in the conversation. His mind spun and a new idea emerged. “Pippa, ye’re brilliant!”

  * * *

  Colette surveyed the large bedchamber, looking for something that could aid in escape or, if that failed, could be used as a weapo
n. It was a fine chamber, with a large bed, curtained with the heavy, wine-colored drapes, now drawn. The furniture pieces were finely wrought, stained the color of warm amber. Intricate tapestries hung from the walls, their bright colors inviting one into their scenes of battle and adventure. Animal skins instead of rushes graced the floor and much of the woodwork had been decorated with intricate designs in gold paint.

  Clearly, the room had been decorated by someone with an eye for fine things. No doubt this was the chamber for the master, the former Baron of Kintail, who now rested in eternal repose. Ironically, it was the kind of room that made her feel comfortable and at home. She wondered if the previous Baron of Kintail had taken pains to make the master’s bedchamber a comfortable home for her.

  She had never before thought of this man to whom she had been pledged to marry as a real person, someone who may have anxiously awaited her arrival and tried to make her comfortable. She had considered her intended as some sort of monster, but the man who had lived in this chamber had been no barbarian. She gritted her teeth as a wave of anger swept over her at the true barbarian who had murdered him. She was all the more determined to escape.

  The room boasted a great stone fireplace on one side and a window built into the thick stone wall on the other. Colette ran to the window, hoping it could be a method of escape. The shuttered window was large enough to fit through, but the drop was at least fifty feet down to the courtyard below. Even if she could lower herself on some sort of rope, she would be in plain sight to everyone in the courtyard.

  Colette sighed. She sat down on the stone bench built into the wall by the window and closed her eyes. Lord, help me to escape! Her prayer was nothing like the lengthy formal recitations she had heard from her priest, but no prayer had ever been more heartfelt. A slight rustle caught her attention, and she opened her eyes to find a young man sneaking out from behind the drapes of the poster bed.

  Colette shrieked in surprise and fear, but the figure merely dashed for the door. He grabbed at the latch and banged it several times, trying to open the door, but of course, it was locked.