Fighting For A Highland Rose (Defenders 0f The Highlands Book 1)

by Kenna Kendrick

  “Ah, you would not understand, my dear. He is in charge of a garrison at war. He cannot afford any slackening of discipline. Do not judge him too harshly, though I agree it was further than I would have taken it. But it is his command...”

  “It is your command!” She turned quickly on her father. “You are in charge of the castle, he agreed it, even acknowledged it before that barbarous performance! You did not have to accept that, nor do you have to accept his marriage to me!”

  “Ah, I’m glad you mentioned that. I have already agreed with the Major that in light of your behaviour yesterday, it makes sense that you should be married without delay. We have agreed...”

  She gasped at his words and tried to speak, but he raised his hand and spoke over her.

  “We have agreed that you will be married by the castle chaplain on Sunday, in four days’ time. I... ah... I realise it is perhaps not your ideal situation, but I have judged it best. No, no, I will hear no argument. Now come, look, here is your maid.”

  Alice hurried out of the castle gates and stopped when she saw them.

  “There is nothing more to say, my dear. You should tell your maid that the Major has decided not to keep her on once you are married. He does not find her suitable. You shall be provided with a servant from his own staff when you reach his house at Edinburgh. After that, it is up to him!”

  Her father laughed at his last words before turning hastily and hurrying back inside, leaving Emily standing open-mouthed. Alice came up and took her arm.

  “Are ye alright, miss? Ach, no, but o’ course ye’re no’. Whit a daft question. How could anyone be alright efter seeing that? But come mistress let us go up tae the room.”

  They hurried through the courtyard, past the ill-looking servant who swilled the blood from the cobblestones around the whipping posts and into the welcome coolness of the corridors.

  When they reached their room, Alice turned to Emily and took her by the hand.

  “Miss, I am so very sorry. I thought ye foolish tae put yer hopes in the Highlander and tae think the Major such a beast as ye dae. I was wrang. I have never seen a man enjoy inflicting such cruelty as that ‘afore. I think I would die ‘afore I married a man whae was capable of such an act. And, miss, I think I will dae anything tae stop such a fate from befalling ye. Can ye forgive me for doubting ye?”

  Emily put her arms around her friend’s shoulders, and they wept. After a time, they sat side by side next to the fire and began to discuss what they would do. They would have only one chance to escape, and they would have to be ready.

  * * *

  “Aw, man, Murdo, whit have ye done? Are ye daft? Have ye gone saft in the heid? Some wee English lassie and ye’ve fallen heid ower heels in love wi’ her and telt her a’ our plan: the treasure man, the treasure!”

  Ewan wrung his hands in the air like a man at the end of his sanity, shaking his head at Murdo.

  “Honestly man, ye are my friend and companion and my brither-in-airms, but I hae ne’er heard sae foolish a tale as this that ye have just told me.”

  Murdo and Ewan stood on the ridge looking down on the town of Inveraray. The sun was setting behind the mountains to the west, and a little mist played across the water of the loch. After leaving Emily, Murdo had moved back and forth across the country until he ran into Ewan, scouting ahead of the main band. Together they had worked the surrounding approaches until the MacPhersons were safely camped. Then they had walked together to the top of the ridge and Murdo had unburdened himself, telling his friend the whole story. He had expected Ewan’s reaction. Indeed, he had admonished himself many times throughout the day, but done was done, and he would have to trust the lassie’s good word.

  “Ye shall have tae tell James, your faither, he could decide tae ca’ aff the whole operation.”

  Murdo sighed.

  “Aye, ye are right, I shall hae tae, much as I dread the idea. Come let us go doon tae the camp.

  James’ reaction was no better than Ewan’s. He tore his hair and raved around the tent and seemed near to striking Murdo in his fury.

  “She said she would meet ye, did she? Ye great daft galoot! She shall meet ye wi’ a troop o’ soldier’s nae doubt and her husband-tae-be at their heid! Och man, this is bad, aye, it is. But we cannae turn away frae our goal now.”

  Father Colum, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, turned to Murdo and spoke.

  “Murdo, my lad. This lassie... ye truly felt safe tae tell her o’ our plans?”

  “I telt ye!” cried Murdo. “She had a’ready guessed! She wishes tae be awa’ and has some Scots maidservant whae kent a’ about the treasure already and kent a’ about you, tae, Faither Colum! A’ I did was tell her tae meet me there if she wanted tae escape frae her marriage!”

  His father growled and clenched his fists, but the old priest held up his hand.

  “James, James, when hae ye ever known Murdo here tae be a poor judge o’ character? If he trusts the lassie well, I say we should proceed wi’ the plan and be ready tae bring her wi’ us frae the chapel if she comes.”

  He then turned to the young man, standing straight and proud under his father’s glare, “I believe ye. I dinnae believe that ye would hae felt as ye did for the lassie if she had the black heart o’ a traitor. Red haired, ye say?”

  In spite of himself, he smiled. “Aye, redder than any Scotswoman I’ve ever seen.”

  “Weel,” said the old priest, laying a hand on his arm and smiling, “let us hope she comes tae meet ye at the kirk, then.”

  James glowered but had to agree. They had no choice but to proceed with their plan and hope that Murdo’s lassie proved true.

  “Weel this is a pretty turn up for the books and nae mistake, but ye had better get in among the men and ready them Murdo. We attack at dawn.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Tomorrow?” Emily’s voice rose to a shriek. “Tomorrow, but you said at least the end of the week: Sunday! I cannot marry him tomorrow, good God, father, what are you thinking?”

  Captain Nasmith stood inside the doorway of their little room, hat in his hands and his face a picture of awkward stubbornness.

  “The Major and I have agreed that it is best, my dear. I am sorry it is not as you wish, but what difference does it make? Tomorrow or Sunday, surely there is little in it? He has promised that there will be time for a proper celebration back at his house in Shropshire when the war is over, but he wishes to get the formality out of the way now, and I have agreed.”

  “But...”

  He turned and strode away, trying to whistle a tune and failing badly.

  Emily felt like weeping, but she did not, and Alice came to sit by her side.

  “Can we run away tonight?”

  Alice shook her head.

  “The guard on the castle has been doubled, I overheard my faither saying so in the kitchen earlier. It seems that they hae got some news o’ the men in the hills and they fear a raid on the castle.”

  “But, Miss Emily, we are a’ set for flight. I have packed the bags, and our travelling clothes and a’ is weel – we can flee tae the Kirk as soon as the raid begins. Ye said that he promised they would come tomorrow? If I ken Highlanders, they will attack at dawn, and if we are canny and careful, we will be able tae get awa’ while the soldiers are drawn aff tae the attack.”

  She wiped a stray tear from Emily’s cheek.

  “Dinnae weep Mistress. We will weather this storm ye shall see. We shall weather it together.”

  * * *

  They did not sleep properly at all that night. Instead, they sat huddled by the fire, their travelling supplies near to hand, hidden under a blanket. They kept the fire going and kept each other’s spirits up by telling childish stories and singing songs together. In the dark hour before dawn, they dozed fitfully, always with one ear open for any sound that would alert them to the beginning of the attack.

  Just as Alice had predicted, the sound they were awaiting came at dawn.

  Far
down beside the waters of the loch, there came the clanging of a harsh bell and a yelling of many voices. A fire was burning in an abandoned cottage by the bridge, and the townsfolk fled their beds, running to see what could be done. In the courtyard outside, there was a sudden tramping of feet. They looked from the window and saw soldiers running to get in formation for the march out of the gates.

  It didn't take long before the smell of smoke reached their room. Then they heard the first crackle of musket fire. The soldiers’ movements took on a new air of urgency. Alice ran out into the corridor to look toward the town.

  “There is smoke coming frae a point at the far end o’ the toon, as far frae the castle and the Kirk as it is possible tae be. I can see men doon there tae, coming doon oot o’ the hills. They are creating a distraction frae the kirk. Come, Miss Emily, this is our only chance. We must go right now. There is no’ a moment tae lose.”

  “Have the guards left their posts outside?”

  “Aye, there’s a guard on the main gate, but the side gate is nae longer guarded. The main body o’ the soldiers hae gone doon tae the toon and yer faither and the Major have gone wi’ them. Come on, my dear. There’s no’ a moment tae lose.”

  The moment had come. Grabbing their bags, they slung them across their shoulders and pulled their shawls up over their heads in the hope that if they were spotted, they would be mistaken for town women hurrying for shelter. They took a moment, looking deep into each other’s eyes, recognising equal parts of terror, excitement, and exhilaration at the adventure. At a run, they headed into the corridor.

  There was nobody there. Down two flights of stairs, they went and out of the little side door by the kitchen garden. There was no sign of guards, but they ran as fast as they could anyway, not trusting their luck.

  “This way Miss, this way,” hissed Alice, as Emily had been about to take the wrong track. They plunged into the trees, their heavy bags jouncing against their hips as they ran, the branches tearing at their clothes and arms and the new spring briars grasping at their ankles. They were panting, scratched, and sweating when they caught sight of the little chapel through the trees.

  “There’s the kirk yonder,” Alice hissed under her breath. Emily nodded, unable to speak.

  They hid behind the low wall and peered over. In the town below they could see the plume of black smoke from the fire pouring upwards and smell the acrid stench of burning thatch. The same air that carried the smoke brought the sound of battle to their ears: a block of marching red-coated soldiers down on the road below.

  “The Highlanders willnae hae much time against the redcoats.” Alice shook her head. “They are brave men. Let us hope that they hold oot long enough for their party to come up here and...”

  As she spoke, she was interrupted by the thump of hoof-beats. Around the corner of the chapel rode three men on horseback. She saw that their leader was tall and well-built, clean-shaven and with a face that was as noble in expression as it was handsome in feature. His eyes were black as jet, and they shone with excitement.

  Behind him rode a smaller man, bearded and alert. He carried a drawn sword in one hand and glanced around the little graveyard expectantly. The third was an older man, dressed like a priest but with a pair of big ungainly pistols strapped to a shoulder-belt.

  “Nae sign o’ them, Murdo.” The smaller man twisted his mouth.

  “Aye,” replied Murdo, “but nae sign o’ anybody else, either. Now Faither Colum we hae little time, where is the treasure hidden?”

  The older man shook his head and glanced around with a panicked expression.

  “Aw, I cannae bring it tae mind! I cannae remember man!”

  Murdo rolled his eyes, and the smaller man ground his teeth in frustration.

  Emily stepped forward.

  “If you please, gentlemen, I believe I can help with that.”

  She cast back the grey shawl that his her features from their sight. Murdo’s face lit up with surprise, delight, and disbelief. He leapt from his horse as did the smaller man.

  “See, Ewan! What did I tell ye? Did I no’ tell ye she would be true tae me?”

  Ewan glanced into the trees behind them as if he expected to see red-coated soldiers aiming their muskets into the kirkyard, but Father Colum cried out in delight.

  “Ah, I was right too! Murdo MacPherson is a good judge o’ character, Ewan MacPhail!”

  “Enough, enough, for the love o’ Heaven,” cried Ewan. “Glad I am tae see ye baith I’m sure ladies, but if I understand things aright ye already ken a’ about our errand here, and ye understand our haste. If I may make sae bold as tae ask ye tae help me tae the location o’ yon treasure without further delay.”

  Emily and Murdo gazed at each other with a deep and swelling affection.

  He leaned over and whispered to her, “Will ye come wi’ me then lassie?”

  “I shall.” There was no hesitation in her voice, and she took his hands.

  “Here, sir, here!” Alice stood beside the entrance to the stone-lined chamber holding the treasure. He glanced at her, and she gave him a proud smile.

  “Aye tae be sure I remember now !” cried the priest. “Aye! By the inside o’ the third balustrade tae the east, I remember now!”

  “Grab the sacks,” said Ewan. “It’s as the lassie said; the box is a’ rotted. Murdo, man, come on!”

  Emily and Murdo stepped over to the hole as Father Colum approached with a handful of linen sacks.

  “It’s a narrow opening and the box isnae sound. If we try tae lift it oot it’ll a’ fall tae pieces.”

  It was agreed that Ewan being the slimmest of the three men, should clamber down into the hole and fill the sacks. As the first sack was hauled up, Father Colum and Emily worked to lash it onto the side of one of the horses, as a crackle of a disciplined musket-volley hailed from deep in the town.

  “The damned redcoats have reached the fight, and found room to manoeuvre.” Murdo’s shoulders bulged as he hauled up another sack of gold coins.

  “Aye,” panted Ewan from inside the hole. “They’ll get a few volleys aff ‘afore the smoke o’ their guns makes it too hard for them tae fire by rank anymore. With luck, the fires and their ain gun smoke will mean they dinnae find too many marks.”

  The little party worked hard and quickly. They had filled and loaded five sacks and were working on the sixth and last when they heard the cry of a horn and the thunder of horses’ hooves. The disciplined sound of musket fire had been replaced with sporadic shots, and they could hear the cries and clashes of hand-to-hand fighting.

  “Hurry!” cried Murdo to Ewan. “We dinnae hae the numbers doon there tae haud oot lang. Is there any mair?”

  Murdo hauled the last sack, and Emily and Father Colum fixed it to the last space on the saddle. Murdo walked to the corner of the chapel to look around.

  “Gie me a hand oot, then!” Ewan shouted angrily from the hole as he saw Murdo walk away. Murdo turned, but it was Alice who reached down into the chamber and offered her hand to the small man. Their eyes met, and he seemed about to protest before giving a shake of his head. Grasping his sinewy forearm, Alice braced her legs against the side of the hole and heaved. He came up like a monkey and stood facing her. Then he smiled, his white teeth flashing at her through his thick, well-tended brown beard.

  “Will ye ride behind me, miss?”

  She gave him a little curtsy. “With pleasure, good sir,” and they both laughed.

  Murdo mounted and pulled Emily up behind him. She clasped him around the waist and felt again the flat, hard muscles of his belly, smelling his scent and shuddered with pleasure at the sensation it gave her.

  “I love you.” The words were out before she knew it, but she wouldn’t have taken them back for the world. It was the truth.

  Alice mounted up behind Ewan, and Father Colum rode warily out in front, scouting the road. Murdo turned his head a little, so he could see her face. In a quiet voice that only she could hear he whispered, “Aye, lass
. And I love ye too.” She thrilled, and breathed deeply, squeezing him hard.

  They moved off, the horses heavy with the sacks of gold.

  “Emily, tak’ the slack o’ the reins in your hands. If I hae tae use my sword, tak’ the reins and control the horse. Ye ken how tae dae that, don’t ye?”

  They rode cautiously down toward the sounds of the fighting. Ewan and Murdo had a signal to call the retreat once they were clear of the kirk and near enough that they could join the Highlanders and flee into the hills. Ewan was to blow a horn and ride down to the battle, and Murdo and Father Colum were to ride out behind the Highlanders and call. Between them, it was hoped the message would get across, and the retreat would be sounded through the chaos of battle.