Highland Escape

by Cathy MacRae

  Pouring wine into his cup, he waved his hand. “Of course, take as much time as ye wish. Ye will stay with Nessa in the meantime.”

  Nessa squeezed her hand under the table, beaming her approval.

  “And your son? He does not appear too pleased with your offer.” She recalled Duncan’s face when he saw her tonight.

  At this, the laird released a short burst of laughter and shook his head. Nessa giggled. Lady MacGregor merely smiled knowingly.

  Laird MacGregor’s shrewd eyes met hers. “My son has been verra angry with me. Angry with the way I have treated ye, angry I allowed Shamus to challenge ye, and angry I dinnae let him kill Alain for attacking ye. I cannae say I blame him. Nae, my son wishes ye to stay. He greatly admires ye. I am afraid seeing the damage Alain caused was more than he could bear.”

  Uncertain what to think, Anna kept her mouth shut. The laird eyed her trencher.

  “Please eat. Duncan tells me ye hardly ate this week. Why not?”

  She considered an answer so as to not offend. “The stew is not something I am accustomed to eating. I feared if I did, I would become ill, a condition I could not afford with my…current circumstances.”

  His furrowed brow eased with a look of understanding. She could see he wanted to ask more questions but stayed silent.

  The table held fresh bread, cheese, some sort of roasted bird in a thick sauce with vegetables, and fruit. A bowl of soup smelling of peas and leeks sat in front of each trencher. Pitchers of wine, ale, and water awaited. Anna took a few grapes, squeezed them into a cup, then filled it with water. Tearing off a small piece of bread, she sliced a pear and slowly ate the soup. It went down easily and tasted quite good. Glancing around the room, she noticed the others eating from full trenchers, making hers appear almost empty.

  “Ye must eat more if ye are to get yer strength back,” Lady MacGregor said.

  “Thank you, my lady, but I am nauseous from the blow to my head and cannot eat much immediately after fasting a week.”

  Lady MacGregor placed her hand on Anna’s arm, patting it to show her understanding. Anna’s response seemed to pique the laird’s interest. His face betrayed the questions he wanted to ask. Anna stopped eating and faced him in invitation.

  Chapter 7

  “Ye are a baron’s daughter, yet ye’ve been trained to endure imprisonment. Why is this so?” Kenneth MacGregor asked.

  One corner of Anna’s mouth twitched at the laird’s question. She knew of no other noble, especially not a woman, who’d been prepared thus. But she’d grown used to being an oddity.

  “My brother and I had a tutor who was very thorough in his instruction.”

  He cocked his head. “What kind of tutor teaches such?”

  “Zhang had been a prisoner, rescued by my father when he fought during the Crusades, before my birth. He served as bodyguard to a wealthy Chinese merchant. They were part of a trade caravan ambushed by the Mamluks. Zhang attached himself to Lord Braxton as payment for his freedom.”

  A smile crossed MacGregor’s lips. “Tutor? He must have begun yer education at an early age. How many years do ye have, lass?”

  Steeling her body and expression against the grating question, she answered. “A score, Laird.”

  His smiled turned puzzled. “When did ye become twenty, then?”

  “Three days ago.”

  Nessa quietly gasped, squeezing Anna’s hand. Lady MacGregor stiffened next to her. The laird’s smile hardened, lips disappearing as they curled into his mouth, his jaw tight. He rubbed the back of his neck. Anna kept her features flat, as unreadable as possible.

  Tension seemed to drain the air from the room. Reaching for her cup, Anna drank the fruited water.

  “It appears I have more to make amends for than I thought.”

  His words sounded like pity. She would not allow it. “As laird, you did what you thought was best for your clan. There is no need to dwell on it further. If you will excuse me, I feel unwell. My thanks for the meal.” Anna stood to her feet. “Nessa, stay with your family. I need no assistance getting back to the room.”

  Once upstairs, Anna brewed another tisane for pain. After drinking it, she crawled into bed, exhausted.

  Hands gripped her shoulders, pulling her out of a deep sleep. Someone called her name. Startled, she frantically grasped the stranger’s wrists and bolted upright, meeting the look of panic on Nessa’s face. Anna released her and slumped forward, head in her hands.

  Nessa touched her hair. “Ye cried out in yer sleep. Another nightmare?”

  She had no memory of it, though her heart raced and her breathing was ragged. She shook her head and watched Nessa rub her wrists. “I am sorry. Did I hurt you?”

  Nessa sat on the edge of the bed and wiped the sweat from Anna’s brow. “Nae, only frightened me, ’tis all.”

  Anna took her hand, squeezing it gently. “I am sorry I woke you.”

  Nessa’s lips slipped into a sympathetic smile. “Worry not. Pleasant dreams this time.”

  With a sigh, Anna curled under the covers and drifted back to sleep.

  * * *

  After three days, the swelling around Anna’s eye receded, restoring her vision. Thankfully, the nausea also eased, the headache and dizziness no longer constant companions. The tea and bian shi did their work.

  Afternoon naps aided her recovery. Nessa read to her at times. Her own eyes struggled to settle on the words, and attempting the task invited an unbearable headache. Nessa possessed a small collection of books she was proud of. Anna thought of all the books, maps, and scrolls in her father’s library destroyed by fire. Their loss made her heart hurt as much as her head, teaching her a painful lesson about taking things for granted.

  Lady MacGregor visited daily. Anna saw no sign of the laird or his son except at the evening meal. ’Twas just as well. She needed separation from them and had little interest in hearing any more apologies or answering more questions. Whatever his motivation, the laird’s decision to imprison his daughter’s rescuer remained a bitter taste in her mouth.

  She’d considered what her father would have done in his place, and how his men would have treated a noblewoman held captive. There would have been no challenge and certainly no attack due to argument. She would have been well treated and well fed. A maid and bath would have been provided in a guest room. She’d never needed a maid, but a bath and decent food would have been welcome.

  Barbarians.

  The MacGregor women were a different tale. Anna shared more laughter with the girls than she was accustomed to. She felt strange to be in the company of females, but wonderful as she bathed in the warmth of feminine companionship for the first time in her life. She realized she’d never before known a female she could truly call her friend. Could she walk away so easily?

  Conversations often led to speaking of various couples, speculation of who would pair for marriage, the merits of eligible males, and those families expecting children. These conversations typically ended with Nessa and Isla giggling, and Anna feeling oddly left out. No man wants a woman who can outride, outshoot or outfight him. And I have no interest in becoming a man’s property or some dissolute nobleman’s breeding stock.

  The thought of never being in love or having children caused a pang of regret, though she brushed it off each time it crept into her mind. It was foolish to think of love as a baron’s hoyden daughter, yet even more foolish when trapped in a land whose people resented her very existence.

  Something in her expression must have given her away.

  “Anna, are ye unwell?” Lady MacGregor’s brow furrowed as she stared at her intently.

  Banking her emotions as best she could, Anna took a deep breath before answering. “I am fine, milady.” The forced smile she offered as proof didn’t seem to fool anyone in the room.

  Lady MacGregor nodded, but Anna noticed her speculative looks, as if she’d read her very thoughts.

  The next afternoon, Lady MacGregor arrived as usual. “Anna, let u
s take a short walk outside. ’Tis a beautiful day.”

  A sense of apprehension rippled through her, but Anna could not think of a polite way to say no. “As you wish, milady.”

  She followed Lady MacGregor out the door. They settled on a bench overlooking the herb and vegetable garden outside the main tower. Anna kept her breathing steady, waiting with trepidation, reminding herself this woman had shown naught but kindness thus far.

  “I wished to speak where we willnae be interrupted. I have need to say again how thankful I am ye rescued Nessa. It tore my verra heart out when we found she had been stolen. I have lost one child and couldnae bear to lose another. Ye have my eternal gratitude, and also that of my mutton-brained husband, who held ye in that infernal cell for a sennight.”

  Anna subdued a smile, realizing the laird had likely experienced almost as difficult a week as she at the hands of this soft-spoken yet firm woman. “You are most welcome. When I heard them cry out, I could not ride away. I am glad all turned out well.” Hearing the MacGregors had lost a child created a lingering sympathy. Not knowing how to respond, she let the information pass.

  “Anna, I know ye lost yer mother at an age before ye became a young woman.”

  Anna dropped her head, shame of what those words implied coloring her cheeks.

  Mairi continued. “I can only imagine how hard it must have been growing up without an older woman to guide ye. I know I could never replace yer mother, but ye would do me a great honor if ye could perhaps see me as a dear aunt.”

  Using a finger to gently tilt Anna’s chin so their eyes met, she continued. “I am not judging how ye dress or behave, but every lass needs older women in her life for support and counsel. I want yer promise ye will allow me to fill such a role whilst ye are here.”

  Anna’s discomfort rose. While grateful Lady MacGregor would care enough to offer such, she was mortified about her ignorance of what it meant to be a woman.

  “I see the conflict in yer eyes.” Mairi gave her a look of sadness.

  Leaning closer, she put her arms around Anna. The simple motherly gesture led to her undoing, and Anna’s tears fell. Slowly at first, then a torrent. She bent over, openly weeping in Lady MacGregor’s arms. Feelings of loss, loneliness, of not fitting in poured through her. She cried for the loss of family and the loss of home. As her sobs subsided, she huddled against Mairi’s shoulder, inhaling her scent. She smelled of lilacs and heather, reminding her of her own mother, calling forth another wave of grief. At last, her tears were spent.

  Mairi leaned her cheek against Anna’s head. “I think ye and I shall have regularly scheduled times each week to talk and get to know each other. Aye?”

  Her throat too tight to answer, Anna nodded, pulling herself gently from Mairi’s embrace. At last, she found her voice. “Thank you for your kindness, Lady MacGregor.”

  Mairi gave Anna a shooing motion with her hand. “Posh. And Lady MacGregor is the mistress of this manor. When we are alone, ye shall call me Mairi.”

  Anna found herself thrown off-balance by Mairi’s kindness. How could she move on when they continued to undermine her mistrust?

  * * *

  Anna’s injuries healed during the next fortnight, both physically and emotionally. Her routine settled into a pleasant one full of stories and dreams with Nessa and Isla, and afternoons with Mairi as often as she could spare them. Anna found herself seamlessly accepted into the women’s groups and wondered at her transformation.

  A knock on the door midmorning interrupted the girls’ lively discussion of English nobles. Glancing up, Anna saw Duncan standing in the doorway.

  “Are ye well, Lady Anna?”

  A sense of uneasiness stole over her as Duncan’s appearance disrupted the one place she’d felt safe since arriving at Ciardun.

  “I do not think it wise to use that name, sir. I would prefer Anna, of clan Elliot.”

  “Very well, Anna, of clan Elliot, how do ye feel today?”

  She put on an emotionless mask. “Well enough. To what do we owe the honor of your visit, sir?”

  “There is someone who is quite anxious to see ye.”

  Surprise betrayed her featureless guise. “Who could possibly wish to see me?”

  Duncan’s grin was smug as he held out a hand for her. “Come see.”

  Remembering the last time she touched him, Anna ignored his outstretched hand. She walked into the hallway, pausing for him to lead. He led her out the front door of the keep, where her best friend in the world stood waiting.

  “Orion,” she whispered. He whinnied and ambled over to her, nuzzling his velvet nose against her neck. Closing her eyes, Anna breathed in his smell as his breath warmed her skin, a feeling of pure joy flooding her soul. She stroked his long face, pausing at the white star on his forehead, the inspiration for his name. Duncan shrugged.

  “He has been quite unapproachable. I assumed ’twas because he longed for his mistress.”

  After a few minutes of their comforting exchange, she looked up. “Thank you, sir. Orion is all I have left.”

  He tilted his head, furrowing his brow as if to argue, then thought better of it. “I wondered if ye felt up to a ride and tour of the village. Ye must be weary of being stuck in my sister’s room.” They strolled toward the stables near the front gate, Orion lumbering alongside.

  Anna frowned. “I doubt I could stand anything more than a gentle walk. I still suffer headaches if jarred.”

  “Aye, a gentle walk then. Since he has seen ye, I doubt he will allow us to put him away without at least spending some time with ye. I would not put it past him to follow ye upstairs.”

  She tried unsuccessfully not to chuckle at the image, but his words were too potent. To hide her amusement, she saddled her horse, falling easily into the familiar routine. Duncan tacked a beautiful bay gelding, whistling as he worked. Anna noticed that, while quite lovely, the horses in the laird’s stable did not meet Orion’s standards. Not surprising, as he cost her father a small fortune a few years ago. They’d spent a sizeable amount of time looking for the right combination of size, temperament and bloodline. Duncan cast Orion more than one look of admiration.

  “One of my responsibilities is overseeing the acquisition, training and breeding of our horses. I am quite certain I havenae seen a horse as fine as yers. Would ye be opposed to allowing him to sire on a few choice mares?”

  She laughed out loud at his request. “You presume much, sir. I should be fit to ride in a few days. Unless you have a lady ready now, that does not leave much time. Though I doubt Orion would mind overly much.”

  A scowl settled across Duncan’s face. “Call me Duncan, please. Are ye not taking my da up on his offer, then?”

  Her humor fled with his question. She remained undecided. Part of her wanted to rage over the treatment she’d received earlier. The other part of her realized she had nowhere else to go. Though still somewhat angry, she’d experienced real contentment these past days.

  Nessa looked to her as a hero, the older sister she’d always wanted. Anna had never single-handedly saved someone’s life before. They shared a bond not easily broken, their connection strengthened every day. It would be painful not to have Nessa in her life any longer. Soul-weary of loss, she didn’t want to face it again so soon.

  It was unlike her to waver. She’d always been so resolute in her decision-making. An ache of longing for guidance from her father and Master Zhang swept over her. She would even settle for Edrick’s advice, though it would come at the cost of teasing. She’d happily allow him to tease her mercilessly if only she could see him again.

  “I see ye are still undecided.”

  Duncan’s voice lifted her from her internal musings. “I am still angry.” She cringed to hear the snarl in her voice. She hadn’t intended to put so much emotion in her response.

  Duncan regarded her as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, face grim. “I knew ye would be. Ye were right about us. We have acted as barbarians. I was told my be
havior the last time I saw ye was explained.”

  “Yes, your father said you were angry with him.”

  Duncan took a deep breath. “The man who struck ye attacked and injured a guest at my father’s table without provocation. I should have killed him! Now we share an enemy, one who knows the truth of ye. I fear he could spread this knowledge, bringing enemies here. I have failed to see the wisdom in many of my da’s decisions regarding ye. This one was the tipping point. It dinnae occur to me ye would think yer appearance offended me. I apologize for making ye think so.”

  Fury ripped through Anna. “To hell with apologies and pity from you and your father, Duncan MacGregor! I neither require nor want them! I would prefer respect, and the men of your clan at least to act like they possess honor!” Anna closed on him, hands at her sides tightly curled into fists.

  Duncan stepped back, hands raised in surrender. Struggling to regain her composure, she spoke through gritted teeth. “I thought we were going for a ride?”

  Duncan laughed and boarded his horse, tension eased. “Aye, we were indeed.”

  She mounted Orion, and looked MacGregor in the eye. “Shall I fetch my weapons?”

  “Nae, ’twill not be necessary. I know ye dinnae trust me, but ye are under my protection.”

  “Mayhap you have not noticed, sir, but I do not require your protection.” Vestiges of anger colored her voice.

  Duncan’s cheeks darkened and his eyes flashed, but he clamped his mouth shut and rode out the door, keeping whatever it was he wanted to say behind his teeth.

  Neither spoke for several minutes, allowing the tension to ebb once again. As they rode through the village, Anna noticed it was much like her own had been. Viewing the community from a prisoner’s viewpoint on the ride in, it had appeared differently.

  Duncan pointed out the smithy, butcher, weavers, mason, and the rest. “And once a sennight, there is a market when the villagers buy, sell and barter goods and services.”

  Anna nodded. “’Tis much as my home was.”