Highland Challenge (Highland Generations Book 1)

by B. J. Scott

  “Of course, I will. I would allow no one else to do so.” Mareal quickly addressed James. “Can you help me get Andrew to his chamber?”

  “Aye.” James hurried to Andrew’s side. “Can you walk there on your own?”

  “I made it this far,” Andrew said.

  “I told you he is a stubborn bugger,” Callum snickered.

  “No need to take a chance.” James encircled his waist. “Lean on me if need be.”

  As Mareal and James assisted Andrew toward the door of the hall, she slowed her pace and peered up at him. She was so relieved to see him, she forgot to ask him a question of utmost importance. “What of Kayden?”

  “He is dead, and he will never harm you or anyone else again. Your cousin Callum can attest to it.”

  Stunned, Mareal stared up at Andrew. “My what?”

  “Did you na tell her?” Andrew asked Callum.

  Callum shook his head. “There wasna time.”

  Mareal’s eyes darted from Andrew to Callum and back. “What on earth are the two of you havering about? I am na taking another step until you tell me.”

  “It is a long story. While you are stitching my wound, I will explain.”

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Shocked when Mareal agreed to leave the great hall without an explanation about Callum, Andrew was grateful for a chance to gather his thoughts, and to search for the words to tell Mareal about Seamus’s death. He didn’t look forward to breaking the sad news, but he had no choice. Just as she deserved to know about Callum’s relationship to the clan.

  “Help him to the bed, James, and I will be right back with the supplies I need to clean and stitch the wound.” Mareal waited for James to do as she requested, and once Andrew climbed atop his mattress, she disappeared from his view.

  “Is there anything else you need, Andrew?” James covered him with a pelt, then backed away. “If na, I best go see if I can assist Donella with the other men wounded during the siege on Billingsworth Castle.”

  Once he found a comfortable position in which to lay, Andrew peered up at James. “I’ll be fine. I am sure Donella can use the help, but seek out Callum and William first. They will fill you in on everything that happened, and tell you where you are needed.”

  James shot Andrew an inquisitive glance, before inquiring further. “Should I na ask Seamus? I usually take my orders from him.”

  Everyone knew the two men were close friends, so Andrew didn’t want to be in the middle of consoling James when Mareal returned. Nor did he want to tell him about Callum’s parentage until he told Mareal. “See Callum and William,” he reiterated softly. “They will explain everything.”

  “As you wish,” James replied, then left the chamber.

  Andrew stared at the ceiling, awaiting Mareal’s return. She’d suffered a huge loss when her father died, and given her affection for Seamus, the news of his death would likely gut her. She already felt responsible for the slaughter of her father’s men in the forest, those who perished while trying to rescue her, and for Elise’s abduction, even though she wasn’t really to blame for any of it. If not for Kayden’s evil vendetta against his uncle, and his dogged determination to sit as laird, those who died because of his actions would be alive, including her father. Without Kayden’s threats, he and Elise would never have left Fraser Castle in the first place.

  To further add to his dilemma, Andrew also had to explain about Callum Forbes, and how he was the bastard son of her Uncle Donnal MacCurtry. Fortunately, she’d been so concerned about his injury, and getting him back to his chamber so she could tend to it, Mareal had not mentioned Callum’s remarks. But he knew that would change once she finished cleaning and stitching his wound.

  “I found what I need, so we can get started,” Mareal announced as she returned toting a wooden tray containing a variety of implements used to mend torn flesh, a jug of whisky, and some clean strips of linen. She placed the items on the bedside table, then sat on the edge of the mattress. “Remove your tunic so I can get this over and done.”

  Andrew slid the garment over his head and tossed it on the floor, before laying on his side, granting her access to the gash.

  “Would you like some whisky to dull the pain afore we begin?” She filled a mug and held it out in is direction.

  “Nay, I will be fine.” While spirits would help dull the pain, he wanted to keep his wits about him. After she finished tending his wound, and they had a chance to talk, he planned to seek out Callum and William to see what he could do to help.

  “As you wish, m’lord. If you dinna want to drink it, I can use it to clean the wound.” She poured a small amount of whisky on the gash, making him jump. “I have seen much worse, but it still needs tending. Are you sure you dinna want a wee dram or two?”

  “Nay. Please get on with it,” he said through clenched teeth, then chomped down on his lower lip, when she began the first stitch. Relieved when it was over, he peered up at her and smiled. “Thank you. You are a fine healer, and have a gentle touch.”

  “I still canna believe you lied to me when I asked if you were wounded.” She gathered the healing supplies, then set them on the table.

  “You told me it wasna serious,” Andrew countered.

  “The wound itself may na appear deep, but you are lucky you dinna bleed to death. A gash can easily fester if left too long,” she chided.

  “Fortunately for me, neither happened. Callum wrapped my wound afore we left Billingsworth Castle.” He patted the fresh binding around his chest, but the unwavering frown of concern and disapproval etched on her lovely face, told him his attempt at reassurance fell short. While he believed he was right in his decision to keep his wound a secret, he hated that she was angry with him now.

  “Aye, or you could be laying in the kirkyard awaiting burial,” she replied tersely.

  “There were more pressing things to deal with at the time, and you also admitted you wouldna have left with Callum had you known.” Andrew lightly stroked her cheek with his knuckle. “If it helps any, I am sorry for na telling you the truth. Hopefully, in time, you will understand and forgive me.”

  Mareal’s expression softened. “You are already forgiven,” she declared, then delivered an unexpected slap to his shoulder. “Just dinna let it happen again.”

  His immediate impulse was to snag her wrist, then haul her close and kiss her soundly. But there was no telling how far unchecked passion might go, and he did not want to lead her on in any way. While he loved her wholeheartedly, his feelings remained unspoken. He had no intention of remaining at MacCurtry Castle and giving up his lifelong dream of someday becoming laird of Clan Fraser. His destiny was there, na here. As much as he hated the idea, he had to resume the search for her husband as soon as he was able. Clan MacCurtry needed a laird and it was not him.

  Convinced he had put off the inevitable long enough, he coughed to clear his throat. “There are some important things we need to discuss, Mareal. Then I must go and check on the others.”

  “I have many questions in need of answers too, but you are na leaving that bed.” She rose, her response direct and to the point. “While you most certainly will live, you need to rest.”

  Rather than argue, he clasped her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I appreciate your concern for my welfare, but we really do need to talk.” He patted the bed beside him.

  “Aye.” She sat, then looked him in the eye, and bluntly asked, “Where is Seamus?”

  The decisive moment at hand, he took a gulp of air for fortification, then began. “I know how much you care for Seamus, and am certain the feeling is mutual for him. He once told me that you were like the daughter he never had.” He stopped when he noticed tears welling in her eyes. Something in her somber expression and intense stare, told him that she already knew or sensed what he was about to say.

  “He is dead, isn’t he?” she sobbed, then quickly jerked her hand free, and brought it to her mouth. “When?”

  The sorrowful look in her eye
s, tugged at his heart. “When they stormed the portcullis, he tried to protect one of his men, and was gravely wounded.”

  “That sounds like something he would do. He was one of the kindest, bravest men, I ever met and had the pleasure to know. My father thought the world of him, as did I.” She cradled her face in her hands and wept softly. “This is my fault. If he were na trying to save me, he might be alive.”

  Unable to watch her anguish any longer, Andrew enveloped her in his arms and held her against his chest, her tears dampening his skin. “It is okay to cry, lass. You have endured much this last sennight, but you are na to blame.”

  She raised her head and sniffled. “While kind of you to say, I know my impetuous nature played a large roll in his death. But I saw no other way to help Elise. I—”

  He gently pressed a finger to her mouth, hoping to silence her, then cupped her chin so she couldn’t look away. “Kayden is responsible for all that happened, na you. It saddened me deeply when Seamus died in my arms. I loved him like family, but knew he gave his life for what he believed in, and was protecting those he loved and cared about. No man can ask for a more noble death.” He caught a stray tear that tracked down her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Kayden is dead, and all were vindicated, including Seamus and your da. As difficult as it might be, you must let it go and move on with your life.”

  She clasped his wrist, holding his hand against her cheek. “You are right, it willna be easy to go on without them, but I owe it to their memory to try.” She expelled a shuddered breath, then released Andrew’s hand. “I am glad you killed Kayden.” She narrowed her gaze. “When we were in the great hall, you said my cousin could attest to his death. What did you mean?”

  Andrew took both her hands in his. “Callum Forbes dinna come here as a prospective suitor, or to simply pay his respects to your da. As it turns out, he is the son of your father’s brother, Donnal MacCurtry, and your cousin.”

  “My uncle died in a battle with the English more than twenty-five summers ago. He never married, and he had no bairns,” she said.

  “Na that he or anyone in your clan knew about.” He explained about the romance between Callum’s mother and her uncle, then how she ended up married to Malcom Forbes after Donnal died in battle.

  “So, his mam was breeding when she married Forbes and claimed the bairn was a product of their union?” Mareal asked.

  “Aye, but Forbes knew the truth, and agreed to keep her secret if she never told anyone Callum was not of his loins. Callum was raised a Forbes.”

  “What changed? How did he learn the truth about his identity? That is if he is who he claims to be,” Mareal said.

  Andrew heard the uncertainty in her voice, and was not surprised she challenged the validity of Callum’s claim. He too questioned it at first, but the more he got to know the man, and given the strong family resemblance between him and Kayden, he was now convinced he spoke the truth. “According to Callum, he dinna know about his real father until recently. Forbes died several summers ago, but even then, his mother kept the secret. It wasna until she was on her own deathbed, that she told Callum the truth.”

  Mareal stiffened, her expression stern. “Why did he not send word to my father when he learned he was a MacCurtry?”

  “He has only known for a few months and na long after, your da took ill,” Andrew explained.

  Mareal glared at Andrew. “And he thought to take advantage of that, and like Kayden, he has hopes of becoming laird now my father is gone?”

  “The two men are complete opposites from what I can see,” Andrew said. “When he learned the truth, Callum was shocked and angry at first. He lived his entire life as Callum Forbes, and he loved and respected his parents and clan. Suddenly he was not the man he thought he was. But claiming the MacCurtry seat was not his first thought, and may na be something he desires now.”

  “Then why is he here?” Mareal asked.

  “He had hoped to meet and speak to your da afore he died. He wanted to get to know his uncle and his cousins,” Andrew said. “He dinna come with thoughts of claiming his birthright. When I asked him, he told me he had no intent of doing so if he believed the person to take your da’s place was good and decent.”

  “What Andrew says is true.” Callum strode into the chamber and toward the bed. “I am a bastard, and have no right to lay claim to something that is na mine. But when I learned of Kayden’s treacherous soul, and his ill-will toward you, I was determined to see he never sat as laird.”

  Mareal rose to face Callum and inclined her chin. “And now Kayden is dead?”

  “Your character and integrity is beyond question. I have no reason to challenge your rights as heir, and plan to return to Ayrshire as soon as Andrew is well enough to resume his duties as your guardian. I am sure he will see that a man your father would approve of sits as laird.” Callum turned and left the chamber.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  As Mareal stood by the window of her chamber, staring into the bailey, the events of the past few days played over and over in her mind. Kayden no longer posed a threat to her safety or the clan’s welfare, and most women in her position would look forward to what life had in store, yet she met all thoughts of her future with dread and misgivings.

  Andrew was on the mend which both pleased and worried her at the same time. At Billingsworth Castle, she openly confessed her innermost feelings, and proved her willingness to put her life on the line for him and his cousin Elise. She told Andrew she loved him, and if possible, those feelings grew stronger every day, but at no time did he give any indication he felt the same. Instead, she’d swear he was going out of his way to avoid being alone with her. He had even requested Donella care for his wound in her stead. Now that Andrew was up and about, she suspected he would resume his plans for the tournament, intent on finding her a husband.

  Tempted to resume her protest of the marriage of convenience, or to simply join the priory, she remembered a recent vow she made to God. In the dark moments when she believed Andrew was in danger of losing his life to Kayden, she’d offered up a prayer to the Almighty, promising that if the Lord saw fit to spare him, she’d cease her obstinance, and do what was best for the clan. Even if it meant marrying a man she did not love.

  A rap on the door interrupted her musing. “Aye, who is it?” she called out, but didn’t turn around.

  The door creaked open. “It is Moira, m’lady. Lord Andrew wishes to see you.”

  She faced the maid. “It isna time for the noon meal. Did he say why he wants to see me?” She asked the question, but was certain she already knew what it was about.

  “Nay, mistress. He just asked me to fetch you. As far as I am aware, he also sent for Lord Callum.” Moira headed toward the door, then paused and glanced back at Mareal. “Should I wait for you, or tell Lord Andrew you come anon?”

  “There isna need for you to wait. I will be down once I change into a different gown. Please close the door when you leave.” Mareal returned her attention to the window. The garment she wore was fine, but saying she needed to change, hopefully bought her a bit more time before she had to meet with Andrew. A summons from him could mean he was ready to resume his search for the next Laird MacCurtry.

  Moira mentioned he also summoned Callum, and Mareal wondered if perhaps it was to say goodbye. Her newly discovered cousin made it clear he was not there to challenge her standing in the clan, or her future husband for the position of laird, and rumor was he intended to leave for Ayrshire any day.

  She had to admit the thought of Callum staying on as laird had crossed her mind. While she didn’t know him well, Andrew trusted him, and from what she’d seen, her cousin appeared to be an honorable man. If he claimed his birthright, she would not have to marry her father’s replacement. While she found the idea appealing, there was little or no chance of it happening. Unlike she and Kayden, Callum was an illegitimate son. Only the King could grant him legal status as an heir, so the onus to provide a new laird still fe
ll on her shoulders.

  Resigned to getting this meeting over with, Mareal closed the shutters, then padded across the chamber. She quickly washed, changed her gown, then plaited her hair. As prepared to face the inevitable as she’d ever be, she ambled to the door and tugged it open—shocked to find Elise in the hallway.

  “Och, Mareal. I was just about to knock,” Elise said. “Moira stopped by my chamber and told me Andrew wanted to see me. She also mentioned he summoned you as well, so thought we might go down to the hall together.”

  Misery does love company, Mareal thought. She saw no joy in marrying a man she didn’t love, but kept it to herself. Instead, she smiled back at Elise. “That would be lovely. Lead the way.” More curious than ever as to why Andrew wanted to see them, she followed Elise down the stairway and into the great hall.

  Upon seeing Andrew and Callum standing at the dais, sharing a mug of ale, Mareal’s heart began to flutter wildly, her stomach doing a quick flip. Uncertain she could force another step, she halted, her eyes fixed on Andrew. There was nothing about him she didn’t adore or admire. Tall, strong, and by far the handsomest man she’d ever known, he was also a fierce warrior and highly respected leader, determined to protect those who depended on him at all cost. He was exactly what her clan needed in a new laird, and the only man she yearned for in her bed.

  “Andrew and Callum are waiting. Is something amiss?” Elise tapped Mareal on the shoulder.

  “Nay. I am fine.” Mareal inclined her chin, and continued to the dais. “Moira said you wished to speak to me, Andrew.”

  “She told me the same thing,” Elise added.

  “Aye, I did.” He placed his tankard on the table, and addressed Elise first. “I know you must be homesick by now, and am certain your parents miss you verra much. I wanted to let you know we leave for Fraser Castle on the morrow, so you may want to start packing today.”