by Tarah Scott
“I willnae hang for murder,” he shot back.
“I will kill ye myself.” The taller man lunged at him.
Jacob leapt forward and drove his fist into the taller man’s belly. The man dropped to his knees, then started to shove to his feet. One of Jacob’s men seized his arm and yanked him up.
“Bring them,” Jacob ordered.
Two of the warriors seized the shorter man’s arms and started toward the keep, while the other four warriors dragged the other two prisoners behind.
Jacob walked behind with Linnae. They neared the keep and Richard emerged from the postern door near the great hall. He veered toward them and reached them as they opened the door into the pantry.
“The men who attacked the carriage?” Richard asked.
Jacob nodded, and allowed Linnae to enter first, then followed with Richard behind and the warriors dragging the prisoners behind them.
“Take them to the dungeon.” Jacob nodded at the two men. “You—” he met the shorter man’s gaze “—will stay here for a moment.”
“I dinnae know anything,” the short man claimed as the warriors took the other men toward the kitchen. “It was them. They planned the attack. I didnae want anyone to get hurt. We were only supposed to capture the lass. That was all. Just capture her.”
“Who planned the attack?” Richard demanded.
The man lowered his head.
“We will get the answer one way or another. Why did ye attack the carriage?”
The man lifted his head. “To stop Lady Alison from marrying Laird MacKinnon.”
“Why?” Jacob demanded. “Was it Laird Donald who sent ye?”
“Nae. It was his captain, Malcolm Donald.”
“Malcolm Donald?” Linnae blurted.
Jacob looked sharply at her. “You know him?”
Linnae nodded, eyes wide.
Jacob returned his attention to the man. “What did Malcolm want with Lady Alison?”
The man darted a glance at Linnae.
“Never mind her,” Jacob snapped. “Answer me. What did he want with Lady Alison?”
“Nothing nefarious, laird,” the man whined. “Another man told him to kidnap the lass.”
“Another man?” Jacob said. “Who?”
“I dinnae know him, only saw him once with Malcolm. His hair is dark and long, walks with a limp.”
Jacob snapped his gaze onto Richard. The fury in his eyes confirmed his suspicion. The man Malcolm was in league with was Lyel’s heir. Jacob had suspected… But to learn that Michael had plotted against Lyel and had a hand in Lady Alison’s death still shocked him. The betrayal would kill Lyel.
“Malcolm wouldnae hurt a hair on the lass’s head,” the man said. “I did no’ hurt her.” He looked again at Linnae. “Tell him, lass. I didnae hurt ye.”
Jacob stepped in front of the man. “Look at her one more time and I’ll cut your throat. Where is Malcolm?”
The man’s eyes widened. “I dinnae know. David is in charge. I only do what I’m told.”
“What were ye told?”
“As I said, just bring the lass to Malcolm.”
Jacob turned to Richard. “Take him downstairs and put him in a different cell from the others. Question the others. I’ll be down directly.”
Richard hesitated.
“I will deal with this,” Jacob said in a low voice.
Richard nodded, then he and the other warrior dragged the man from the room.
Jacob took the three steps to where Linnae stood, grasped her arm, then led her across the room to the stairs.
When they reached the stairs, she said, “Where are we going?”
“To my library.” He urged her up.
She glanced over her shoulder, brows furrowed, then hurried up the stairs. They reached the next floor and he led her up to the next level, then down the hallway to the third door on the right.
He opened the door, and waited until she preceded him, then entered, and closed the door behind him.
She whirled. “What is amiss?”
“I am not certain yet, lass. Start by telling me why the captain of the laird of the Donalds is spending his time at an abbey for homeless girls.”
Startlement flashed in her eyes, and his gut tensed. She was hiding something. She knew Malcolm. Was he wrong about her? Had she been party to the attack? She’d denied it—and he’d believed her—and she seemed genuinely surprised that her driver was a Donald. But just because she wasn’t privy to all the details of the attack, didn’t mean she hadn’t been aware of it.
“I knew Malcolm at Glenwood Abbey, but I wasnae close with him.” She shook her head. “That was two years ago. I havenae seen him since.”
A chill began a slow crawl through his insides. “That doesnae answer my question. What has Dòmhnall’s captain to do with young woman at an abbey?”
“I was never a party to any of his plans.”
Shock reverberated through him.
“He sold me to a very bad man.”
Jacob stared. “Sold ye?”
She nodded. “For three head of cattle.”
Jacob knew such things took place, parents willing to hand their children over for a few coin. But he’d never known anyone who’d been sold.
“The man wasnae honorable,” she said.
“Did he harm ye?” Jacob demanded.
“I ran away before he could.”
Anger whipped through him. “Malcolm doesnae own ye—no one owns you.”
“I agree, but he holds a great deal of sway over many of the lasses there. He is like a father. He brings food and gifts and he’s kinder to us than most people.”
“Nothing in life is free,” Jacob growled. “A man like that wants something. Does he sell all the women there?”
Again, she hesitated, but before he could say more, she said, “Nae. But he uses some of them. Helena can pick locks and steal things. Malcolm was pleased by this, and Gwen…” She shrugged. “Gwen has a way of making everybody like her. She knows how to fight, even better than some men. People tell her things and she knows how to get information. She told me it was her nerve that made her a good spy.”
“Spy?” he blurted. “This is too fantastical. A band of women who are spies, thieves and whores? Impossible.”
“You are naïve if you think women are no’ smart enough to do these things,” she said. “Have ye never read the story of Samson and Delilah? She betrayed Samson to the Philistines. Women can be quite canny.”
Jacob raked a hand through his hair. This day was turning out to be as strange for him as it had been for Linnae. Malcolm McDonald, captain to the Donald laird, had a band of women spying, stealing, cheating and even whoring for him.
“How many women is he using?”
“Not every woman is good for that kind of life. No’ to mention, Malcolm wouldn’t—and couldn’t—trust every woman to do his bidding.”
Jacob regarded her closely. “Who could he trust?”
“A woman who has some ability that interests him, like Gwen and Helena. There is Blair, she is very good with a bow, but I have no idea what Malcolm intends for her. Any girl that enters Glenwood Abbey has no one, or has been left there, which is the same. If Malcolm decides he likes one of the lasses, he offers her some sort of reward to work for him. But I know there is more to it than that. He makes threats.”
“Threats?” Jacob asked.
“Aye, the lasses have nowhere to go but Glenwood Abbey—which means they have no one to protect them.”
He’d never heard of such a thing. A woman as a spy was ingenious. No one would suspect her. A whore, well, she could be passed around to Malcom’s friends or even his men as a reward. What might he use a woman to steal?
A sudden knock came to the door.
“Enter,” Jacob called.
The door opened and a warrior stepped inside. “MacKinnon, Lyle wants to see you and Lady Alison in his chambers immediately.”
Fear twisted through Jacob. Lyle
was dying.
He nodded, then said to Linnae. “Come, Lady Alison.” He cupped her elbow and hurried her from the room and down the hall to Lyle’s chambers. He entered and, to his surprise, found the room brightly lit. Richard and Reams both stood near the bed, and Jacob caught sight of the priest standing just behind Reams.
Lyel lay propped against pillows.
Jacob released Linnae and stepped up to the bed.
“There you are, lad.” Lyel shifted a gnarled hand and motioned to Linnae. “Come closer, child.” He spoke in a whisper, but Linnae must have heard, for she stepped up beside Jacob.
Lyel looked at Jacob. “You didnae tell me my granddaughter’s carriage had been attacked.”
“Nae.” Jacob shook his head. “I will deal with her attackers.”
“You have three men in the dungeon.”
Jacob nodded, and cursed silently. Richard had told Lyle everything.
Lyel grimaced in pain, but said, “It was the Donalds?”
“Aye, Malcom Donald.”
“Michael had a hand in her death.” It wasn’t a question.
“God’s Teeth, Lyel, I wanted ye to die in peace,” Jacob muttered.
“Do what I tell you and I will. The priest will marry you and my granddaughter now,” Lyel said.
Linnae gasped.
Lyel reached a trembling hand toward her. For an instant, Jacob feared she wouldn’t take it and would confess all in front of so many witnesses. But she did grasp Lyle’s hand.
“Sit,” he said in a quiet voice.
She glanced at Jacob in supplication, but sat beside Lyle on the mattress.
Lyel smiled gently at her. “I know the wedding was set for a week from today. But time to get to know Jacob is a luxury we cannot afford.” He drew a ragged breath and Jacob wondered if he would last through the ceremony. “I want to see you married, to see our clans united. The Donalds must understand that it isnae only the MacKenzie clan that will seek revenge on anyone who harms ye, but the MacKinnons, as well.” With his free hand, he patted the delicate hand he gripped. “You understand, aye?”
Jacob tensed in readiness for her answer.
She glanced again at Jacob. He gave her a small nod, then she returned her attention to Lyle and said, “Aye, Grandfather. I understand.”
He shifted slightly and his eyes met Jacob’s. “And you, lad, ye swear to me that you will marry her no matter what?”
Jacob’s heart raced. Here was the promise that would bind him to Linnae for life.
“You hesitate,” Lyel rasped. “Our clans must be bound together.”
But marrying a servant girl wouldn’t bind the two clans. He’d told Linnae that if Lyel lived long enough to see them wed, that the marriage would be valid. How could he satisfy both promises? By holding true to the marriage vows and being a friend to the MacKenzies for life.
“Aye, Lyel, I swear.”
Lyle slumped back against his pillows. “Good.” His faded blue eyes shifted onto the priest. “Get on with it, Father.”
“I have told ye, Laird, this is highly irregular.”
Jacob frowned. Highly irregular? Their betrothal had been signed and the bans had been read in church.
“The marriage willnae be sanctioned by the church,” the priest said.
Jacob started to reply, but Lyel said, “This is how a man took a wife before priests like you told us we couldnae do so without the church’s permission.” His eyes blazed with some of the old fire.
Jacob hid a smile, then sorrow surfaced. He was going to miss his wise old friend.
Lyel motioned the priest forward. The priest’s mouth thinned, but he hurried around the bed to Jacob’s side. “Are you ready, my lady?” he asked.
Jacob could see she wasn’t. She’d gone pale. He grasped her arm and gently pulled her to her feet, then slid an arm around her waist and pulled her against his side.
The priest looked at Jacob and said, “Jacob Robert MacKinnon, art thou here this day in pledged troth of thy own free will and choice?”
“Aye, Father,” he replied.
He looked at Linnae, and said, “Linnae Donald, art thou here this day in pledged troth of thy own free will and choice?”
Linnae gasped.
“By all that is holy.” Jacob snapped his gaze onto Lyel. “Ye knew?”
“You think my men dinnae tell me when we have prisoners?” Lyel replied in a low voice.
Jacob snorted. “I think you enjoy playing with me.”
Lyel’s eyes hardened. “Ye know she isnae my granddaughter?”
Jacob nodded. “Aye. Do what you will with me. The lass isnae to blame. I made her lie to you.”
“And you would have married her to keep me from knowing?”
Jacob nodded.
Lyel’s expression relaxed. “Then ye deserve the judgement I mete out. Ye will marry her.”
Jacob started. “What? But she isnae your granddaughter.”
“Ye just swore you would marry her,” Lyel said.
Linnae pushed at Jacob and he realized he still held her against his side.
“Release me, you brute,” she demanded.
He blinked.
The room went silent--except for Lyel’s raspy laugh. “I believe she will keep ye in line, Jacob.”
Linnae broke free of him and faced Lyle. “I do not understand. You know who I am. Ye cannae marry me to the laird.”
Lyel met her gaze squarely. “Are ye in love with someone else, lass?”
She shook her head. “Nae, but love has nothing to do at this.”
“Have ye something better to do than to marry the MacKinnon laird?”
She stilled, and Jacob laughed.
She shot him a narrowed-eyed glare, then said to Lyel, “I will tell ye the same I told him.” She jabbed a finger in Jacob’s direction. “Because I am a servant girl doesnae mean you can use me for your own ends. I will no’ take part in a pretend marriage just to be thrown aside. I am only a servant, but I have pride—and honor.”
Lyel gave a tiny nod. “All the qualities a laird needs in a wife.”
She threw up her hands. “I have entered a madhouse. I am not your granddaughter. I cannae marry Jacob. Lady Alison’s marriage would have bound your two clans together. That will not be accomplished with me—especially since I am a Donald.”
Amusement returned to Lyle’s eyes. “We shall not be making peace with the Donalds. But your marriage to Jacob will bind the MacKinnons and MacKenzies.”
“How?”
Lyel nodded at the priest, who pulled a document from within his robes.
“Can you read, child?” the priest asked.
She nodded. “Aye.”
He handed her the document. She unfolded it and gasped in unison with Jacob upon catching sight of the word ‘adopt’ and her name.
She looked at Jacob in shock. She turned to Lyel. “Why?”
He released a slow breath. “I willnae give our enemies the opportunity to divide our clans. I have adopted the lass as my granddaughter. Both clans must accept the union.” Lyel paused. “If you will have him.”
In a daze, Jacob faced Linnae. “I promised you, lass, that if we married, ours would be a true marriage. You have the laird’s sanction, a priest who knows you by your real name, and witnesses. Will ye marry me?”
Chapter 6
Linnae stared at Jacob. She had to be dreaming. Maybe she died in the crushed carriage and didn’t know it. She’d heard stories about spirits that refused to pass on. She’d never been a believer, but…
“We are no’ the clan ye were born to, lass,” the old laird said, and Linnae faced him. “But we welcome you into our family. I will not live long. But however long I live, I will call you Granddaughter.”
Her heart thumped. A family that had chosen her? A grandfather, even for a day? Her chest tightened at the thought of him dying.
“Need I remind ye” —the old laird’s voice pulled her from her thoughts— “the MacKenzies and MacKinnons are c
ounting on you to unite them.”
Linnae blinked. Was the old man—
She narrowed her eyes. “Blackmail, is it? Jacob is right, ye are a formidable force.”
He nodded. “In that, you and I are more alike than perhaps even Alison and I.”
All amusement vanished. “I am sorry about your granddaughter, laird.”
He gave a tiny nod. “Aye, lass. So am I. But life goes on.”
A long moment of silence passed, then she said, “I cannae see how it’s a good plan,” –God help her, there was no better life she could possibly have— “but if ye think it is best, I will marry Jacob.”
“It is a good plan.” Lyel looked at Jacob. “Aye, lad?”
“Aye, Laird.”
The priest cleared his throat.
“Wait,” Linnae said. “I-I have something to say to Jacob first.” She grasped his arm and drew him several paces away toward the door. With a quick glance back at the others, who stared in open curiosity, she went up on tiptoes, grasped his shoulders and pulled him close so that she could whisper close to his ear, “I told ye about Malcolm. What ye must know is that if he finds me, he will be angry and…” she hesitated.
Jacob pulled back enough so that he could meet her gaze. “I will protect you with my life, lass.”
“But—”
He shook his head. “No buts.”
She stared up at him. He met her gaze squarely. Lady Alison had protected her against the advances of some of her brother’s friends. But Linnae had known that protection was tenuous. To have a man—a chief—protect her. The need to cry rose, but she forced back the compulsion and nodded.
They returned to the others.
Linnae had read the marriage vows in parchments, but had never given any thought to marriage. She’d never fallen in love.
When the priest addressed her as “Lady Linnae Donald,” her heart sped up, “swear ye now that there is no reason known to you that this union should not proceed?” he asked.
She whispered, “I swear.”
He asked Jacob the same, and Jacob replied, “I swear.”
The priest asked her to repeat the vows as he said them.
She began, “I, Linnae Donald,” and her voice shook so badly that her face heated with embarrassment. Jacob grasped her hand and gently smiled—which, to her chagrin, didn’t help, for the warmth of his fingers only reminded her that those fingers would soon touch her intimately.