A Flawed Scotsman

by McQueen, Hildie

  “He wishes ye well. He has a family on the western shore near Dornie. A wife, two daughters and a son.”

  The news made him feel better. “I am glad for him.”

  Ewan slid a look to the front of the room. “Are ye going to tell them?”

  That Conor had shared the truth with Ewan wasn’t surprising. His cousin had a way that made people comfortable.

  “No. It is better they do not know about the betrayal. What good will come of it?”

  “Ye are their brother. Do ye not think they deserve to know?”

  Ruari shook his head. “I have always been treated as such. The knowledge would not change anything. Even the land left to me by Robert Ross is the best on our lands, near water and forest. He may have supposed, of the four of us, I’d be the one not to live here and would need a place where I could sustain a family. My father did his best to ensure I never lacked for anything.”

  Finally, after thinking, Ewan nodded. “I will keep the secret. But I remain steadfast in the thought that if I were them, I would like to know that I have a brother like ye.”

  Ruari chuckled. “Are ye jealous, Cousin? Jealous that I am not yer brother?”

  “Ha,” Ewan replied with a look of annoyance. “It is good enough that we are cousins. I do not care for any more brothers.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “How long did it take before yer husband said he loved ye?” Esme asked Elspeth. Weeks had passed since moving to Ross lands and she’d begun to feel comfortable in her new home.

  Joined by Elspeth’s friend and companion, Ceilidh, they walked through the flower field just outside the gates.

  “I feel as if he does. But he has never said it,” Esme continued.

  “Men are not vocal about such things as feelings,” Elspeth replied.

  “Ye should ask him,” Ceilidh interjected. “Tis best to be direct.”

  Esme frowned. “Ruari and I talk about everything. Perhaps ye are right. I should ask him.”

  “Is it not strange how we require them to tell us how they feel about us?” Elspeth asked with a chuckle. “Have ye told him how ye feel?”

  At the question, Esme tried to figure out if she’d actually spoken the words. “I remember telling him he was more important to me than life.”

  Ceilidh clasped her hands in front of her chest. “In that moment, he should have responded with a greater declaration.”

  “True,” Elspeth added. “He should have.”

  “He said he cared for me deeply, as well.”

  The women’s expressions told her they found the response lacking.

  After collecting flowers, Esme felt better. She missed her parents and Catriona terribly but could see that living with the Ross Clan meant a life of peace.

  And yet, knowing her own clan was under threat made it hard to settle. She looked to Elspeth. “Where is yer family?”

  The woman’s lips curved. “Not too far from here. They live in a small village, Kildonan.” She motioned with her arm past the forest. “In that direction. Ceilidh’s family lives there, as well.”

  Esme frowned. “Mine is so far. I am constantly worried for their safety. If they are attacked, there is no way for us to get there in time to help. Two days’ journey without stopping is much too far.”

  Elspeth studied her for a moment. “Ye should not live in fear. I am sure yer father will have come up with ways to ensure the safety of the people.”

  “By marrying my brother to one of them,” she grumbled. “I hope it does not come to that.”

  In the distance, a rider approached the gates. After speaking to the guards, he was allowed in. Esme hoped it was a messenger from her family and letters from her mother and Catriona. Yet, she forced a slow pace not wishing to be disappointed, but instead to remain hopeful for a bit longer.

  “Two letters for ye,” Merida, Tristan’s wife, said, motioning to the table where she sat with a babe on her lap. “The messenger is in the kitchen about to be fed.”

  Unable to keep from it, Esme dropped her flowers on the closest table and rushed to pick up the parchments. She then went to sit by the hearth to read in private.

  The first was from her mother. The letter was overly bright and pleasant, which made Esme suspicious. Catriona’s letter was a contrast. Her friend told her of the tensions in the keep. How guards were on edge. Her companion, Flora, kept Catriona abreast of all that happened, which implied her friend had yet to leave the chamber.

  Esme’s breathing quickened at news that Keithen had been gone for two days at the time Catriona wrote. The excuse had been that he’d gone hunting. But like Esme, Catriona was suspicious of her brother going hunting alone when their clan remained under threat.

  What if he’d been taken by the Mackenzie? If that horrid man hurt her brother, Esme vowed to kill him herself. It was hard, but she continued reading.

  As soon as I learn more about Keithen, I will send a missive. Although I am hesitant to believe he has been taken, I am fearful of the true reason for his absence.

  I miss ye and am hopeful that ye have found happiness with yer new husband and in yer new home.

  Esme closed her eyes and considered how different her life was and yet the cloud of the Mackenzie’s threat hung over her head even there, from so far away.

  Just as she folded the parchment, she caught sight of a maid hurrying to the kitchen and Esme followed. There, in the center of the large room, the messenger sat with a large platter of food in front of him and a tankard at his elbow.

  Moira, the cook, smiled widely. “Would ye like some cider, Lady Esme?”

  “No, thank ye,” Esme replied and looked to the messenger who scrambled to his feet. “Please sit and eat. I came to thank ye for bringing news. Tell me, how does my father fare?”

  “He is well, Lady Esme. Of good health.”

  Despite the urge to roll her eyes at the practiced answer, she smiled. “I am grateful. Did my brother send me any message?”

  The messenger shook his head. “No. He was not about when I was sent to come here.”

  “I was hoping to hear from him. How does he fare?”

  This time, the messenger swallowed. “I do not know, Lady Esme. I have not seen him as of late.”

  Esme let out a breath she wasn’t aware she had been holding. “I pray he is well.”

  “I am sure he is,” the messenger replied.

  Deciding to allow the man to eat, she turned to the door, but then stopped. “I will be sending back letters as well. I am sure someone will show ye a place to rest and sleep tonight.”

  Her mind awhirl, instead of turning back toward the great room, Esme headed outside. Once in the courtyard, she looked around until she spotted Ruari at the corral with the beast of a horse. Admittedly, the animal had become tamer, but a barely restrained ferocity was clear in the way it shifted and pawed at the grown.

  When Esme neared, the horse’s grunting noises were a bit unsettling. “Is the horse considering murder?” She eyed the animal with distrust.

  “That is a good assumption. He clearly is not one to ever accept being dominated.” As if to prove his agreement, the animal reared up, its huge hooves pawing the air.

  Ruari did not release his hold on the strap around the animal’s neck. Instead, when its hooves landed on the ground, he ran a hand down the animal’s nose, soothing it.

  When he untied the strap and loosed the beast, the animal trotted in a circle while shaking its long mane.

  Her husband’s hazel gaze met hers for a long moment. “I saw a messenger come. Does he bring bad news? Ye are troubled.”

  It seemed, already, Ruari could sense her moods. Esme wasn’t sure how she felt about it. “Not bad news really. Catriona sent a letter. My brother has not been seen in days.”

  “It is probable he is accomplishing work for yer father.”

  She’d not considered it. If her father required him to do something, they usually did not inform others. Her mother wouldn’t ask and she was su
re that Flora, Catriona’s companion, would definitely not know.

  “I am bothered by the news. I wish to go and see about it.”

  Ruari shook his head. “Ye will not go. I am not welcome at Fraser Keep and, therefore, ye are not as well. Ye are a Ross now.”

  “It will always be my home,” Esme replied with a set jaw. “I am sure ye and my father will work things…”

  “I said no.”

  Words caught in her throat. She thought of too many responses at once until none escaped. How dare he speak to her as if she were a child? She was not a prisoner to be kept from going where she pleased.

  Ruari’s right brow rose. “Go inside, Esme. We will discuss this later. I have much to do.”

  Pushing a finger into his chest, Esme snarled, too angry for words. Then, taking a deep breath, she placed both palms on his chest and pushed hard. It was irritating when he didn’t move a bit. “Are ye dismissing me? I am worried about my brother. I wish to visit my family and ye tell me to go away?”

  “I did not say go away.” Ruari pronounced each word clearly. “There is no reason for us not to speak of it later. The messenger will not leave until morning.”

  “I will go with him.”

  “No.” Ruari shook his head, this time, his eyes darkening. “Ye will not.”

  Knowing it was a battle of wills neither would win, Esme turned on her heel and hurried back to the house.

  She almost fell when, upon entering, one of the house hounds raced across her path. Esme groaned and continued forth, up the stairs and into her bedchamber.

  “What happened?” Ceilidh appeared in the doorway, her blonde hair pulled back into a soft braid, allowing for several ringlets to frame her pretty face. “Did ye and Ruari fight?”

  Esme nodded. “Why do men act as if they own us?”

  “Mostly out of protection.”

  “I am not sure I believe it. I think it is because they consider us beneath them.”

  “My husband has always treated me equally. I am sure Ruari is as fair as Ian. All Ross men hold women in high esteem.”

  Perhaps Ceilidh’s husband did, but Ruari had just dismissed her and ordered her into the house. “My mother always said that a woman must know her place. Father never includes her in any important matters.”

  “Let us go back downstairs. A bit of honeyed mead will help settle yer nerves.”

  Once again in the great room, Esme noted some people lingered. This place always had many people about.

  “Come.” Ceilidh took her hand and pulled her to a table where the other women sat. Elspeth, Malcolm’s wife, was joined by Merida and Gisela, Kieran’s wife.

  After Esme settled into a chair, everyone looked to Ceilidh. The pretty blonde explained Esme’s concerns. It was quite interesting when their expressions went from curious to narrowed looks in the direction of the doorway.

  Merida huffed. “Did ye kick him in the leg?”

  “I should have,” Esme said.

  “Or another place that would have hurt worse,” Gisela said.

  Elspeth held up a hand. “Women like us must learn to know our places.”

  Esme groaned. “I tire of hearing that.”

  “Our place is to control situations without them realizing it,” Elspeth finished, and every head bobbed in agreement.

  “I do not understand,” Esme said.

  “What do ye want?” Merida asked, pushing her auburn locks away from her babe’s grasp.

  After considering, Esme replied, “To return home and assure myself that all is well.”

  “Is it wise?” Ceilidh interjected.

  “It could be dangerous, especially since ye will ride near Mackenzie lands,” Elspeth said next.

  Her spirits fell.

  “However,” Gisela said. “If ye leave, ensuring to be followed closely, I am sure Ruari will catch up in time to keep ye from harm.”

  They quieted when a guard approached and informed Elspeth and Merida that their husbands were about to travel to the village.

  “Will my husband and Ruari remain?” Gisela asked.

  The guard nodded and left.

  A grin stretched across Gisela’s face. “I will help ye.”

  With olive skin, dark eyes and luscious brown hair, Gisela was stunning. Esme wondered how it was that fate brought two extraordinarily attractive people together. Gisela’s husband, Kieran, was the lightest of the Ross brothers, and by far the fairest. At first sight, Esme had been struck silent at seeing him.

  Obviously, it was a common occurrence because no one paid attention to her reaction.

  “I am not sure what to do,” Esme admitted.

  “First, ye pack food and a wineskin. Ye hide it by an exit,” Merida said and then added, “ensure that Ruari sleeps well by pleasuring him”

  Ceilidh giggled, her face pinkening. “Slip out at daybreak.”

  “Tell the stable lad that Ruari is joining ye shortly while ye saddle yer horse,” Elspeth instructed next.

  Merida leaned forward conspiratorially. “And then ride through the gates as if the devil himself were chasing ye. Shortly after, Ruari will be roused and follow.”

  “Keep going until ye are far enough away and refuse to return. He will take ye the rest of the way. Of that, I am sure,” Elspeth said.

  The plan was easy. Esme could not see what could go wrong, other than Ruari being roused too soon, which she doubted since there was no reason for the stable lads to not believe her.

  “I will do it.”

  *

  It was still quite dark when Esme slipped out and across the courtyard. Her bundle under her arm, she went to the stables and found that everyone was asleep. No one in sight. Glad not to have to speak to a stable worker, she went to a stall and coaxed a sleepy mare out.

  Soon thereafter, she rode through the gates unchallenged. Just as she passed, she looked up and one of the guards peered down and stared at her.

  Esme lifted a hand in greeting. His was much slower in response.

  Satisfied the man would go fetch someone, she urged her mount to a gallop. The mare was not in the mood for goading and instead trotted, then slowed back to a walk.

  “Ye have to go faster. At this pace, my husband can catch us by walking,” Esme grumbled.

  Finally, the mare decided to pay heed and, soon, she was past the village and headed to the path along the river that she knew would lead to her home. Several times, she looked over her shoulder, thinking she heard something, but each time there was no one.

  Surely the guard had roused Ruari. If not, then the women would. How long would it be before they were up and checked to see if she had, indeed, gone forth with the plan?

  It mattered not. Esme decided to pull a hood over her head and continue her trek, hopefully unnoticed.

  It became late in the day and still no one had come after her. Esme was becoming too exhausted to continue.

  Ruari had yet to catch up and she was becoming alarmed. If he didn’t come, was she brave enough to continue the rest of the way alone?

  She dismounted and stretched her arms up and then leaned back to allow her back some relief. At spotting the river, she pulled the mare toward the water’s edge. Then she looked up at the sky, trying to figure out what direction would lead her toward home.

  Several hours later, as the sun began to fall, Esme was sure she was lost. The sun was now behind her and she realized that for the last several hours, she had been going in the wrong direction.

  Pulling on the mare’s reins, she turned the animal around. An instant later, the sound of horses made her pause. Could it be that Ruari finally caught up?

  Surely, he’d picked up her trail, as she’d not been careful. Being that she’d headed in the wrong direction, however, could have proven disastrous.

  As men on horseback crested a hill, she narrowed her eyes and attempted to focus on the riders. They did not look familiar.

  Her heart began to quicken and her throat constricted. The men wore Mackenzie c
olors.

  “Oh, no.” Esme looked around to see if there was anywhere to hide. They’d spotted her and picked up their pace. Esme urged the mare to go faster, which it surprisingly did. But her mount had no chance against the huge warhorses the men rode.

  Finally, they caught up with her and Esme did her best to appear brave as she glared at them. “Leave me be.”

  One of them narrowed his eyes and then they widened in recognition. “Ye are Fraser’s daughter.” He looked at his companions and searched the area for others.

  “This could be a trap,” one of the others said and they all began scanning the surroundings.

  “Why would we wish to trap ye?” Esme snapped. “I am heading home. Allow me to pass.”

  “Alone?” the first man, who was probably the leader, asked.

  “I prefer to travel alone,” Esme said, looking him straight in the eyes. “I do not think ye would like what would happen if ye try anything against me. I am a Ross now.”

  The man’s eyebrows rose. “And yer husband knows ye are out and about alone?”

  It was a dire situation and Esme knew the chances they’d allow her to continue home were slim. “I became lost. My escorts should be along shortly.”

  “Ye are on Mackenzie lands, lass.” A gruff man looked at her with distaste. “Not on the edges, but well into our land.”

  Her heart sank. “I would like to speak to yer laird then.” Esme fought not to cry when one of them grabbed the mare’s reins from her hands. The men surrounded her, but none attempted to touch her.

  For that, she was thankful.

  *

  Laird Mackenzie was not physically imposing. It was his manners and expressions that made him terrifying. Madness swirled behind his gaze as he peered down at her. The low timbre of his voice seemed to reach out and rake over her skin like one hundred fingers.

  “Why are ye on my lands? Why alone? Tell me what ye seek.”