The Age of Knights and Highlanders: A Series Starter Collection

by Kathryn Le Veque

  The words made everyone stop and stare at him.

  “Have ye gone daft?” Tristan asked, shaking his head. “No one is that foolish.”

  “Mark my words.” Malcolm continued toward the courtyard.

  Unlike the woman, Alec’s face was bruised and bloody. He struggled against the warriors who held him in place.

  People in the courtyard surrounded the small group, mostly his warriors and a few nosy clansfolk.

  “An unexpected surprise,” Malcolm said, taking one slow step at a time down to where Alec stood. “Two surprises in fact.”

  “Release her. I offer myself in her stead.”

  Malcolm turned to meet Tristan’s gaze and lifted an eyebrow.

  “I do not take direction from a McLeod,” he responded and then looked to the guards. “Bring him inside.”

  Instead of going into his study, they stopped in the great room. Alec looked to where the injured guard was now moaning in pain as the healer did what he could to help.

  Malcolm walked to a table near it and ordered the servants who remained to leave. “Ensure ye are out of earshot or ye will be whipped.”

  The servants’ eyes popped wide. Some looked to each other and shrugged. Damn them, they knew he would not follow through with the threat. Hopefully, Alec hadn’t noticed their lack of concern.

  He didn’t care if the man stood or sat. He wasn’t injured enough to need the latter. “Release him. He will not go anywhere. Remain at the doorways.”

  The guards released their holds on Alec and went to the designated exits.

  “Now, explain to me why ye are really here,” Malcolm demanded in a bored tone. He knew exactly why at noting the man searching the room. No doubt looking for the fair Paige.

  Alec’s upper lip curved in anger. “If ye hurt her, I will…”

  “Do nothing. Ye are only one man and without a weapon.”

  “I demand ye release her. I am freely giving myself. What more would ye want?”

  Malcolm chuckled without mirth and shook his head. “Do ye really need to ask? I want yer brother’s head.”

  To his credit, the man looked down and nodded. “I understand.”

  “Then bring him here and we will exchange the lass for him,” Kieran said with a smirk. “Would ye do that?”

  “He is my blood,” Alec replied. “I cannot.”

  Kieran shrugged. “Then she remains.”

  Malcolm noticed movement at the top of the stairs. No doubt a nosy servant. He walked closer to see who it was, but the person scurried away. “I do not agree to yer terms. Perhaps if we keep ye here, yer brother will come for ye.”

  When Alec met his gaze, Malcolm knew the younger brother would do no such thing. He looked to his two brothers and had no doubt neither would hesitate to come for him.

  “Love makes ye do stupid things, McLeod,” Malcolm said and then motioned to the guards. “Take him to the dungeon.”

  Elspeth hurried back into the bedchamber, her heart pounding. Had Malcolm caught her spying? He had seen the bottom of her skirts, which unfortunately were a distinct blue.

  Struggling with her uninjured arm, she unfastened the ribbon in the front of the bodice and managed to wiggle out of the overdress. The removal of the shift underneath was simpler.

  In a clean chemise Elspeth had brought, she hung up the dress and returned it to the wardrobe. After, she grabbed the discarded shawl and wrapped it about her. If he came, he would not know she’d dressed.

  Thankfully, the guard at the door had gone down to help with whatever was happening after instructing her to remain in the chamber. He’d not seemed to notice she’d dressed when she’d opened the door to his knocks.

  Just as she went to the window, the door opened and Malcolm entered. He looked to her and frowned. “Ye should not be out of bed.”

  “I need to stretch my legs,” she replied. “Just for a moment.”

  He nodded and opened the trunk at the foot of the bed and then spread a tartan on the floor. Down on his knees, he pleated it and then stood when he was satisfied. He removed the breeches he wore and stood in only a tunic that came to his upper thighs.

  “Can ye not dress somewhere else?”

  He gave her a bland look. “Ye have seen me fully bare, do ye not remember?”

  Heat rose to her cheeks and she turned away. “Not on purpose.”

  “Hmm.” He gave a noncommittal reply.

  Once again, he straightened the tartan and lay upon it. Elspeth couldn’t help but watch as he expertly tied it about his waist and then got to his feet.

  Pulling one end, he brought the loose fabric up over his shoulder and then joined it with one from the front. He walked to a side table and used a broach upon it to secure it in place.

  Once done, he looked every bit the Laird of Clan Ross.

  “What is happening?” she asked.

  He looked directly at her. “Much. I must address the clan.”

  “May I attend?”

  For a long moment, he seemed to consider it, and then shook his head. “Nay, I will return and inform ye what is said.” He came to her and, once again, as if they were lovers, kissed her on the mouth lightly. “Get rest.”

  Elspeth wasn’t sure what could be done. She knew now that not only a woman named Paige had come, but also Alec McLeod, Laird McLeod’s oldest son and next to be laird.

  There had to be a way she could help. Her mind raced. She would not allow these people to die. She would speak to Malcolm and convince him to allow them to go.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Malcolm looked over the gathered people in the inner courtyard. At the top of the steps, he stood at the keep entrance, his brother, Tristan, to his right and Uncle Gregor on the left. Kieran stood beside Tristan, his mother and sister behind him.

  There was whispering between his mother and Verity and he overheard them mentioning the upcoming preparations for the evening meal. How different these women were than the two women there against their will.

  Elspeth fought to heal people and even while injured, she had asked for action from him. The other woman, Paige, had risked her life in an effort to bargain for peace between two warring clans.

  His mother and sister worried about mundane matters and, in a way, he was glad for it. They’d not had to suffer a day in their lives. The worst pain they’d experienced was the loss of a husband and father. As far as he was concerned, that would be the way it would remain.

  The gathered people quieted when he lifted a hand to get their attention.

  First, he scanned the faces ensuring everyone knew he was aware of their presence.

  “Tis time to consider what Clan Ross will stand for in the future,” he began. “We must not relent in our pursuit to avenge not just my father’s death, but so many others who have died since.”

  People looked to one another when he paused, remaining silent, not wishing to miss a word he spoke.

  “However, the ongoing battles have cost us all much.” There was a collective inhalation and, as one, the people leaned forward in anticipation of what he would say.

  “Laird McLeod’s eldest son is our prisoner now. Turned himself over to us and I accept this as a reason to call a truce for now.”

  The only sounds were of birds in the distance and a child crying. The babe was quickly quieted.

  Malcolm could not tear his gaze from one young lad, his dirty face drawn in expectation. He was orphaned, losing his parents to illness and then his older brother in battle. The boy had to fend for himself now and it showed in the bare feet and torn, stained tunic he wore. These were the true victims of war.

  “We shall send a messenger to the McLeods agreeing to peace. Once they accept, ye can all return to yer homes and land.”

  There was crying and cheering. People hugged one another as Malcolm and his family watched.

  Several farmers and village men walked up to him and shook Malcolm’s hand, swearing fealty on behalf of themselves, their sons and their families. />
  In exchange, they were promised food and any help needed for livestock and farms.

  As the people dispersed, a heavy weariness fell over Malcolm. The weight that had pressed down on his shoulders since the battles began may have lifted, but he was left with the burden of so much to be done and a decision of what to do with the two people who’d come of their own volition.

  “Tis stupid,” Kieran muttered. “Tis Ethan who should be in our dungeon.”

  Malcolm followed his younger brother inside the doorway of the keep. “We will continue in our quest to find him. Ye can have the honor of killing him. But our people cannot stand for us to remain at war any longer. Winter comes.”

  “Once this is done,” Kieran motioned toward the courtyard, “my men and I go to hunt.”

  “No.” Malcolm grabbed him by the tunic and held him in place. His brother was broader and taller, but Kieran respected him and didn’t struggle. His hazel eyes narrowed as they stood nose to nose.

  “Ye will wait until the truce is in place. Until we are sure they are not going to retaliate immediately for Alec being here. A battle right now will throw us back into war right as winter sets. It would not be fair to the people. Our father would never allow any kind of battle to cause families to be hungry through the harsh season.”

  Kieran’s shoulders lowered. “Ye are right.” Although his brother seemed to agree, Malcolm knew him well. There was a restlessness in his brother that rarely settled.

  “I need ye to escort the next group of men who guard the northern post. It will be good for ye to ensure all is well there.”

  Of course, it was an excuse for Kieran to be gone for at least three days, but it would be good for his brother. Being he was in charge of the guards there, it was not an odd request.

  “Aye, my men have been there overlong,” Kieran finally agreed.

  Their uncle walked in. “I will be traveling with the messenger who goes to see Laird McLeod. Tis best one of our family goes.”

  The brothers frowned at their uncle. Malcolm wasn’t keen on losing his uncle if the McLeods decided to kill the messenger. “Why doesn’t Aiden go?”

  “I will go,” Gregor insisted. “Tis my job as my brother would always send me for such matters.”

  It was true. Their uncle had always been the intermediary when it came to discussions between clans. He was gifted in such a way.

  “Very well, but there will be twenty men with ye,” Malcolm said, not allowing for argument.

  “They will think we come to fight,” his uncle said with a chuckle, “not to barter peace. Let it be ten.”

  “I think that’s too few, but ten it is,” Malcolm replied. “No less.”

  “Very well,” his uncle said. “I depart at first light.”

  Malcolm trudged the rest of the way inside. So much had happened and there was still much to be done. From providing foodstuffs to the people, assigning escorts and ensuring that he made the correct decision when it came to both Alec McLeod and the woman, Paige.

  Perhaps he’d send the woman to the McLeods with his uncle. She could be turned over to them and they would keep her safe.

  The thing that had to be decided was what to do about Alec. If they bartered for peace, Laird McLeod would demand the return of his son.

  He placed a hand on his uncle’s shoulder. “There is something more we need to discuss, Uncle.” They made their way to the study. Soon Tristan, Kieran and Aiden joined them.

  Malcolm narrowed his eyes at his cousin who didn’t seem the least bit perturbed that his father would be heading into the lion’s den in a manner of speaking.

  “Do ye plan to accompany yer father?” he asked his cousin, who’d obviously not thought of it.

  “Father asked me not to.” Aiden shrugged. “He is overly protective,” he added when Tristan cleared his throat.

  Gregor Ross looked to his son without expression. “I simply asked that ye help with so much that has to be done with the farmers on the eastern lands. Those people have always been our responsibility.”

  Malcolm decided it wasn’t his place to intercede, so instead he decided it was best to keep Aiden occupied with a task that would keep the man out of his hair.

  “Aiden, speak to Ruari about such things. I’m sure our cousin will need help.”

  Son to Malcolm’s father’s cousin, Ruari Ross had come to live at the keep as a child. The man was a loner who spent his time at the stables when not battling. He had a gift for horses and seemed to prefer their company to that of humans.

  It was Ruari who also kept watch over the inventories of grains, livestock and such. He’d be the one to organize the handing out of food to the clan’s people.

  Both Aiden and Kieran walked out, leaving Tristan, Malcolm and Gregor. His uncle spoke next. “What will be done with our prisoner? I am assuming ye are having trouble deciding.”

  “Laird McLeod will demand his return,” Tristan said. “Then again, what will that say of us if we return him so easily?”

  “He should remain here,” Gregor said. “I will inform Laird McLeod he remains alive and will be safe, but that we won’t release him for the time being.”

  “They may not agree to a truce then.” Malcolm rolled his shoulders in an attempt to relieve the tightness.

  They were silent for a long moment, each in their own thoughts.

  “Supper will be served shortly.” Verity entered, seeming to be in good spirits. Her face was alight with a soft smile. “How long before I can travel?”

  “A few days yet,” Malcolm replied. “Anxious, Sister?”

  Verity nodded with enthusiasm. “I grow tired of remaining within the walls. Mother wishes to visit friends and I wish to go with her.”

  “We shall discuss it later,” Malcolm said. “Go now.”

  “Mother insists ye come for last meal. We celebrate the coming end to the clashes.”

  Tristan took their sister’s arm and gently walked her to the door. “Tell her there’s not peace yet.”

  Verity looked at Malcolm. “I thought it was done. Ye said…”

  “Not yet. Go now,” Malcolm said, becoming annoyed.

  His uncle waited for Verity to be out of earshot. “So it is decided. I travel with the girl tomorrow and Alec McLeod remains.”

  “I will speak to Alec as well,” Malcolm replied. “If I had my way, tis on my back that I would spend the rest of the day.”

  “The yoke is heavy.” His uncle placed a hand on his shoulder. “But ye must bear it. Yer father would be very proud.”

  Heavy, indeed, Malcolm thought. And it seemed to not be at its heaviest yet. He had a feeling the road ahead would not be easy.

  Deep in thought, Malcolm hurried past the great room so that his mother would not spot him and then hurried up the stairwell.

  In his bedchamber, Elspeth sat in a chair with a book in hand. She looked up and met his gaze. She didn’t smile, but he recognized warmth in her gaze.

  “How fare ye?” she asked. “Tired?”

  “Very much so,” he admitted, lowering to a chair opposite her. “It has been a long day.”

  She stood and pulled the shawl around her to cover the chemise she wore. Then she poured hot water from a kettle that hung over the fire in the hearth into a cup. She added herbs and stirred it.

  “Drink this and rest.” She held the cup out to him.

  When he took it and sipped it, she lowered and leaned forward. “I heard from the window what ye said. I am glad for it.”

  She paused before adding, “It would be a good gesture to return the laird’s son to him.”

  Malcolm hated to disappoint her as she seemed to finally be comfortable around him. At the same time, he wasn’t going to lie. “I am not releasing Alec McLeod.”

  For a moment, she looked at the fire, her brows drawn in a scowl. “Ye cannot kill him. It will not bring yer father back.”

  “I am aware.” He didn’t want to continue the conversation of what to do. What he wanted was to rela
x for a few moments before facing more people.

  “Would ye like to join me for last meal?”

  She seemed shocked and looked down to her chemise. “I do not, not tonight.”

  Although he wanted to question her, he was too weary. Instead, he changed the conversation. “Ye look better already.”

  Her keen gaze met his and then she looked away. “I am still a bit sore but better. Yer healer is truly gifted.”

  It reminded Malcolm to find out about the injured man. He made a mental note to ask how the man fared.

  “Do ye read?”

  She lifted the book and placed it on her lap. “Very little. Some words I can make out. Most I cannot.”

  Her hand moved across the book and he followed it.

  “I wish for ye to return here to sleep,” she said, startling him.

  “With ye?”

  “Oh, no!” Elspeth blushed. “I will sleep elsewhere. I know ye have been sleeping next door. I happened upon yer manservant.”

  He smiled and nodded. “I want ye safe. However, I do agree sleeping on the floor is not the same now that I grow older.” Malcolm made a show of stretching his back.

  Elspeth met his gaze. “Ye are not as heartless as ye portray. I like this side of ye.”

  “Ye seemed to like my bare rear for a target as well.”

  The laughter that escaped was like music to his ears. “That was truly unfortunate,” she said with a wide smile.

  She made the load on his shoulders evaporate.

  “Why do ye not wish to eat downstairs?”

  With a dramatic exhalation and a roll of her eyes, her lips pursed in thought. “Should I state a list of reasons? Or perhaps show ye?”

  Malcolm lifted a brow. “Show me.”

  She pointed to her still bruised face. “Not a pretty sight. It hurts to chew my food. I am sure my expressions are not at all fit for company.” Elspeth then placed her hand over the injury on her chest. “My chest hurts after sitting in one place too long. I have to move about to ensure not to stiffen.”

  “That is a very short list,” Malcolm replied.

  “I will be at first meal. Tonight, I will eat here.”

  “Very well. I will join ye immediately after and we can discuss what happened during the meal.”