Highland Avenger

by Hannah Howell

  “Wear the brown and gold one,” he said. “It will compliment your hair and eyes.”

  “But, I wouldnae have thought it a good color for me when I have brown hair and brown eyes.”

  “Ye have honey-gold hair with intriguing hints of red and soft amber eyes, nay just brown. Wear the brown and gold gown.”

  Arianna shrugged aside her bemusement over his description of her and donned the gown he had chosen. When she was ready she chanced a look at herself in the large looking glass over the fireplace. Surprise widened her eyes as she stared at herself in amazement. Instead of making her look like a little brown wren as she had feared, the color of the gown made her hair seem brighter, her eyes lighter and more prominent. That Brian could know what color would make her look her best gave her a dangerously warm feeling for it meant he had truly looked at her, honestly noticed what were her best features.

  She was startled out of her thoughts by Brian’s kiss on her cheek. He hooked his arm through hers and led her out of the bedchamber. Knowing they were headed for the great hall that would undoubtedly be full to bursting with his kinsmen had all of Arianna’s nervousness returning in a rush.

  “Brian, I am nay certain it is wise for us to be sharing a room here,” she said.

  “I am nay letting ye out of my sight,” he said. “Whene’er I have, ye have gotten into trouble.”

  Before she could protest that, he dragged her into the great hall and through a crowd of curious MacFingals straight to the table the laird and his wife sat at. Fiona sat on Sir Ewan’s right. An older man who looked a great deal like Sir Ewan sat on his left and next to him was a pretty, well-rounded woman with graying brown hair and big brown eyes. Arianna was not surprised when the older man and woman were introduced as Brian’s father, Sir Fingal MacFingal, and his wife, Mab. The man had left a very strong mark on all of his sons.

  Brian helped her to a seat and then placed himself between her and Fiona. Arianna looked around and found Michel and Adelar seated at a table with two maids and over a dozen young children. Fertile lot, she mused as she met Sir Fingal’s narrowed gaze.

  “Another lass who needs some meat on her wee bones,” said Sir Fingal.

  Arianna waited for the pain of those words to strike her and nothing happened. Her slenderness was one of the things Claud had always criticized, yet hearing this man speak of the same thing only amused her. Sir Fingal was one of those older men who felt free to say whatever he pleased, but actually meant no true harm. She then suspected that he always had and that age had very little to do with it. Perhaps, she thought, having a lover who seemed to be more than satisfied with the curves she had had given her some armor against such remarks.

  “Lady Arianna is just fine the way she is,” said Brian.

  “I didnae say she wasnae fine,” snapped Sir Fingal, scowling at his son. “I said she needed to eat more. And ye need to tell us why there is an army forming barely a day’s ride from here.”

  “Oh, Brian,” Arianna began, terrified that she had brought a true danger to his family.

  Brian patted her hand, which was clenched into a white-knuckled fist on the table. “We kenned it might come to this, love.” He looked at his father and then at Ewan. “There is an army gathering?”

  “Aye. A wee group of Frenchmen are gathering a large number of hired swords,” replied Sir Ewan. “I dinnae think many of the hirelings are verra skilled and probably willnae stand firm when faced with a hard fight. Have ye found out any more about the why of all this?”

  As he ate, Brian told them everything he had learned. He also told them some of the questions he and Arianna still pondered and the possible answers they had come up with. As he talked it out with his brother and father, Brian could see it all more clearly. Arianna was right. There had to be more than a wee bit of land, Lucette’s need to be the heir, and the DeVeaux’s need for vengeance against the Murrays behind all of it.

  “Aye, there is something ye dinnae ken,” said Sir Fingal. “That fool Lucette sounds a mon who might do all of this just to gain an inheritance. Wheesht, a mon who would kill his own blood, or want to, and then try to beat a wee lass to death will do most anything. There isnae enough there to make that Lord Ignace act this way, though.”

  “Nay, there isnae,” agreed Sir Ewan. “Nay sure we will e’er ken what that reason is though, for if these fools attack Scarglas, they will die. Hard to get answers from dead men.”

  “I still find it hard to believe that they sunk a ship just to try and kill two boys,” said Fiona.

  “That was terrifying,” said Arianna, “and enough to get them hanged. Did Captain Tillet and his men heal?”

  “Aye,” replied Fiona, “and they have already sailed for home. Nay certain if anything can or will be done about what happened to his ship, though.”

  “I pray he is cautious for, if he points a finger at the DeVeaux with nay more proof than his word against theirs, he could find that his survival is a verra short-lived one.”

  “Are they all so truly evil then?”

  “Weel, I doubt there are many of that family who dinnae deserve a hanging.”

  “Someone needs to cut away the rot like we did to the Grays,” said Sir Fingal.

  “Aye, someone should,” Arianna agreed, “but it would take a long time and many a good mon would die in the doing of it. Right now all I care about is killing the ones who want to hurt my boys.”

  “They willnae get those laddies. Ye dinnae need to worry on that.”

  Arianna smiled at Sir Fingal. The determination weighing each word he said warmed her heart. The slow smile he gave her in return and the look in his eyes made her blush. She could easily see beyond the signs of age to the man who was able to seduce so many women. Then a scowling Mab elbowed him in the ribs and he frowned at his wife.

  “Wheesht, Mab, I am truly wedded to ye but I am nay dead,” he said. “E’en with all that bruising on her wee face, she is a bonnie wee lass.” He winked at Arianna. “Pleased to see that my lad isnae as much like Ewan as he was pretending to be.”

  Brian blushed, cursed, and ignored Arianna’s look of curiosity to glare at his father. “There was naught wrong with Ewan and ne’er was.”

  “The mon was but a vow away from being a cursed monk,” snapped Sir Fingal. “It wasnae monly and ye were near as bad.”

  “Da!” Ewan yelled, and slapped his hand on the table, making a sound so sharp and loud it drew the attention of everyone in the great hall. “We have a battle to plan. Ye can discuss Brian’s failings later.”

  Brian glared at Ewan. “Thank ye.”

  “Nay trouble. Now, Lady Arianna, we have sent word to your kinsmen. My son Ciaran and Kester, a lad from our cousin Liam’s keep, were sent out the moment your lads arrived and told us what was happening. We havenae gotten a reply yet but I expect one to arrive soon. We kenned who of your clan was the closest because Fiona and Liam’s wife, Keira, a cousin of yours, are forever writing to each other.”

  Fiona frowned at her husband. “Ye make that sound like some crime.”

  Ewan winked at her. “Just nay sure how ye can have so much to say to each other.”

  “We both have husbands and children. There is always something to say when a lass has those.”

  “She is telling tales about us, Ewan,” said Sir Fingal. “Think ye ought to put a stop to that.”

  An argument started between Fiona and Sir Fingal but Arianna’s unease about that rapidly turned to amusement. She could see the glint of amusement in Sir Ewan’s eyes as well. It took only one look at Fiona to see that the woman was heartily enjoying herself. And so, Arianna realized, was Sir Fingal.

  The argument soon veered off to one concerning what to do about the army that was being gathered by Amiel and the DeVeaux. Arianna wrestled with a crushing guilt over putting these people into the middle of her fight because she knew she would not change that even if she could. She also knew that Brian and his clan would not change it, either.

  Arianna
struggled to listen closely, even smiling at Sir Fingal’s insistence that they just ride out and kill the whole lot before they came to Scarglas, but her thoughts began to grow cloudy with exhaustion. It had not been a very long or arduous journey from Dubheidland to Scarglas but the fact that she was still healing from the injuries Amiel had inflicted on her had made it seem so. Her body was demanding more of the rest it needed to finish healing.

  Before she could quietly ask to be excused so that she could seek that needed rest, Brian was doing it for her. He then called to a maid to escort her to their bedchamber. Arianna wanted to protest Brian’s arrogance, to remind him that she was a grown woman who needed no nursemaid, but the maid Joan was a big, sturdy woman who quickly, and somewhat forcefully, escorted her out of the great hall. Arianna decided she was just too tired to put up an efficient protest. She would let Brian taste her displeasure over such treatment later, after she had had enough sleep to sharpen her wits as well as her tongue.

  “Ye are going to pay dearly for that,” said Fiona, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at Brian as if he had just called her wench, a word that never failed to rouse her temper.

  “She was about to fall asleep at the table,” Brian said.

  “Doesnae matter. Ye just had her marched out of here as if ye were afraid she would hear all our secrets and then run to our nearest enemy to tell him everything.”

  “I didnae.”

  “Aye, ye did.”

  “Nay, I didnae.”

  “Och, aye, ye most certainly did.”

  “Sir, is Anna nay weel?” asked Michel as he reached Brian’s side and tugged on his sleeve.

  Relieved to escape what had sunk into a rather childish exchange, Brian looked at Michel. “Nay, she is just verra tired.”

  “And hurt. I saw the bruises. Did she fall off her horse?”

  “Nay, truly, she was just verra tired. ’Tis a verra long ride from Dubheidland to here.”

  “Did ye hit her?” demanded Adelar as he stepped up behind Michel, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. “When I saw the bruises I thought it was from the injuries she got when we had to jump from the ship, but then I got to thinking and realized the bruises she has now are too fresh.”

  “None of my lads would e’er strike a lass,” snapped Sir Fingal.

  Brian held up a hand to silence his family’s outrage and met Adelar’s steady stare. “Nay, I would ne’er strike a lass, especially Arianna. I fear she was briefly a prisoner in your uncle’s hands.” He nodded when both boys winced, revealing that they had tasted some of Lord Amiel Lucette’s cruelty during their short lives. “She is healing nicely but still needs a lot of rest.”

  “Aye, I see. Thank ye for saving her, sir.”

  Brian watched as Michel and Adelar returned to their table and then he looked at his family. “The reason for all of this lies in just exactly whom those two lads really are.”

  “Agreed,” said Ewan, “but wouldnae the lass have told ye if they were more than just the sons of some bastard-born village lass and the laird?”

  “They are but wee lads. They may have nay seen the importance of who fathered their mother. Aye, especially when that mother had as little to do with them as possible. They may have also heard how many scoffed at the tales of her birth.”

  “Anyone ask them about it?” demanded Sir Fingal, and he grunted in irritation when Brian just stared at him. “Michel and Adelar, do ye ken who your grandsire was?” he yelled at the boys.

  “The lord and lady of Champier, the Lucettes,” replied Adelar.

  “Nay, I mean your mother’s sire. Did she tell ye who sired her? Did he claim her?”

  “Maman said it was the king’s first cousin and that he may nay have openly claimed her, but there was a record of her birth and who sired her. She didnae tell us his name, though.”

  The great hall became so silent the boys began to grow nervous. Brian glared at everyone and gave a sharp nod toward the boys, making everyone aware of the effect the silence had on the two children. It was enough to ease some of the tense silence and he watched both boys begin to relax.

  “Adelar, does Arianna ken that?” he asked the boy.

  “I dinnae think so. Maman liked to boast that her papa had given her noble blood, but she told us we must ne’er say whose blood it was. She ne’er did. Weel, she only told Papa.”

  “Then we shall continue to hold it secret.”

  Both boys nodded and relaxed. Brian wished he could so easily shrug aside the tension gripping him. He talked to the boys while Ewan signaled the children’s nursemaids that it was time for the young ones to go to bed. The moment all of the children were gone from the great hall, Brian finished off his ale and poured himself another full tankard of the strong brew. He was not surprised to look up and find everyone in the great hall now staring at him.

  “Weel, I think we ken the reason for the gathering army now,” said Brian.

  “They dinnae mean to kill those lads,” said Sir Fingal.

  “Lucette does. If he kens this he cannae do anything else for there’s a verra good chance the boy’s grandsire will use the blood connection to grab all Claud left for his grandsons.”

  “Lucette will probably be killed by his own allies if he tries.”

  “Da, they sunk a ship the lads were on. Doesnae that prove that they want the boys dead?”

  “That may have been a hasty judgment. Or, that Lucette did it whilst the others slept. Mark me, if they did try to kill them, now they want the lads for a different reason.” Sir Fingal frowned as he thought it all through. “Or, there is something that noble gave his daughter, something the lads now hold, that those DeVeaux want.”

  “And probably havenae let Lucette ken anything about,” Brian murmured, seeing the logic in that.

  “It doesnae matter,” said Fiona, drawing everyone’s attention her way. “Two wee lads are in danger. That is all that should concern us. Let us end the threat to them first and then we can talk about what their blood kinship matters. I am nay sure it matters at all anyway.”

  “Nay?” Brian grimaced. “Anyone related to a royal is naught but trouble.”

  “Those lads are sweet, weel mannered, and show great promise. They are nay trouble.”

  “Fiona, I ne’er said they were nay good wee lads. I but wonder on how safe they can e’er be with a blood connection to the king of France. If that first cousin was a favorite of the king ...”

  “Oh, hell.”

  “Aye. The best we can hope for is that their mother was truly a bastard and nay the child of some secret marriage such as Claud had with Marie Anne, their mother.”

  “Oh, hell.”

  Brian could not help but fully agree with Fiona’s concise opinion on the matter.

  Chapter 17

  “Those cursed Camerons are here.”

  Brian lifted his head from Arianna’s plump breasts and glared at the door. He was pleased to see that his father had gained enough sense not to simply walk in. The man’s timing was still bad, he thought as he met Arianna’s sleepy but shocked gaze. Brian had anticipated waking her with his lovemaking. His father pounding on the bedchamber door and yelling at him had spoiled that.

  “Good. We have need of more men,” Brian said, pinning Arianna to the bed when she tried to squirm away. “I will be down to talk to them by the time they have washed and sat for something to eat.”

  “So ye mean to leave me to have to see to them? Just as Ewan always does?”

  “Aye, just like Ewan.”

  He groaned and rested his head against Arianna’s breasts as he listened to his father stomp off, his grumbling about ungrateful sons slowly fading away. Brian suspected Ewan had not appreciated their father banging on his bedchamber door any more than Brian had and probably for the same reason. He looked down at Arianna and kissed each blush-stained cheek.

  “Should we nay go and greet them?” she asked, idly trailing her fingers up and down his spine. “They have come to
help us fight our enemies, after all.”

  “And will be taking some time to wash the dust of travel away first. I intend to properly welcome the new day first.”

  “But your father will ken what we have been doing once we join the others.”

  “Arianna, ye do ken that ye are fretting about the sensibilities of a mon who has filled this keep near to bursting with bastards and continued to rut with every woman who didnae knock him over until he married our Mab, dinnae ye?”

  She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Sir Fingal MacFingal was a very strange man. She would think him a bitter, heartless fool if she had not seen him with the children running all around Scarglas, did not stop to think on how he had gathered all those carelessly bred children of his close to him. From what little she had seen last night, the man was also good to Mab, his wife, in his own peculiar way. Before she could say a word, however, Brian kissed her. Arianna wrapped her body around his and let the hot desire he so easily stirred within her push all thought from her mind.

  He made love to her with a fierce greed she reveled in. His every touch, every kiss, fed her need for him until she was just as greedy as he was. Arianna clung to him as he drove them both to passion’s heights, her release so hot and wild, she could do no more than gasp out his name as it tore through her. The way he growled her name as he emptied himself inside her only intensified her pleasure.

  Arianna was not certain how long it took her to come back to her full senses, but she did not try to pull away from Brian as she did. His weight on top of her, the warmth of his strong body, and even the lingering scent of their lovemaking filled her with contentment. At that moment she could almost believe that she could hold him this way forever. A banging at the door startled her out of her dreamy lethargy.