Highlander’s Veiled Bride: Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance (Highland Seductresses Book 2)

by Shona Thompson

  The two of them stayed like that for a long while, Angus holding Ishbel in his arms. They remained quiet, whatever there was between them being too fragile for words, until Ishbel fell asleep, her head resting on Angus’ shoulder.

  Angus placed her gingerly in her bed, pulling the covers over her, and then he left her room, closing the door quietly behind him, before heading to his own chambers.

  He had spent many sleepless nights, pacing back and forth in his rooms or sitting by the window and gazing at the world outside, and it seemed like that night would be no different. Sleep evaded him more often than not those days, but exhaustion was catching up with him, too, leaving him constantly tired and irritable.

  It was no way to lead an army to a battle. Angus decided to lie down in his bed, at least, and try to get some rest, but his head was filled with images of his people dead or dying, men covered in blood and women kneeling over their bodies as they mourned for them. He saw starving children and young widows, men giving their lives for a cause that even he didn’t fully understand.

  He didn’t know why the Keith clan had suddenly become so aggressive towards them, and it seemed impossible to find out, even with all the spies that he had in his service. Hamish, their leader, seemed to be very secretive, very cautious, and out of everything that was happening within and outside of his clan, Angus worried about that the most.

  What could Hamish possibly be hiding? What secrets was he guarding so carefully?

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Word has it that the Keith clan is at the edges of our land, m’lord,” Angus’ messenger said. He and his men were once again gathered in his study, as they tried to come up with a plan of attack and defense for the upcoming war, and the news seemed to leave all of them shaken. “The spies have made contact with them, and they have confirmed their position.”

  “So . . . the Keiths have made it all the way here already,” Angus said. “We canna waste a single moment from the noo, lads. If there is going to be a war, I dinnae want it to be on our land, no matter how weel we ken it. It’s better to keep it away from the first villages, away from the people, where we can control the battle and ensure that there willnae be any victims from the locals.”

  There were murmurs around Angus as his men agreed with him, all of them nodding in understanding. It seemed to Angus that Peadar’s death had been a shock to all, but also a unifying event that had brought all of them together. There were no arguments anymore, neither among his men nor involving him. His men, even Euan and his likes, obeyed his commands without question anymore, knowing that they could trust Angus to deliver justice for Peadar.

  “What shall we do, then, m’lord?” one of his men asked. “They Keiths . . . from what yer spies say, they have plenty of men to send to battle. We are mighty, but we are few, and if we dinnae come up with a plan soon, then they will decimate us.”

  “Aye, that’s correct,” Angus agreed. “But I have good news, lads. Men from the Cameron clan are arriving any moment noo. Laird Cameron has been gracious enough to bring us some of his men and help us fight the Keiths, so we will perhaps outnumber them in the end. Ye are the best warriors this land has seen, and with the Camerons’ help, then we canna lose to the Keiths, I ken that. I believe in ye. I believe in our clan.”

  “Hear, hear!” said the men in unison, and at least now they sounded as though their spirits had been lifted a little.

  Angus couldn’t promise them anything. He couldn’t promise them that they would win the war or that they would live long enough to see such a win. What he could do was try to keep them all alive and safe, his men and the rest of his people in his land.

  “M’lord. Laird Cameron has arrived.”

  Angus looked up and saw one of his guards there, and behind him, Donal. The man looked the same as Angus remembered him, even though they hadn’t seen each other for a few years, save for some brand-new wrinkles that seemed to have appeared on his face. He still had that same smile, though, and Angus found himself smiling back as he stood, walking towards him and pulling him in a loose hug.

  “Why didnae ye call me when the Laird was at the gates?” Angus asked. “I should have given ye a proper welcome, Donal.”

  “Och, ye and proper welcomes,” Donal said, waving his hand dismissively. “There is nae need for such formalities, and ye ken that, Angus. Besides, I didnae wish to disturb ye, so I was the one who asked for ye to not be informed . . . how are ye, brother?”

  “I am weel.” It was a lie, and everyone in the room knew it, Donal included. However, none of the men uttered a single word about it. “Lads . . . ye can go noo. We shall talk about the battle plans later, once I have discussed everything that needs to be discussed with Laird Cameron.”

  The men, along with Angus’ guard and his messenger, left the room, leaving him and Donal alone. It was good to see him, but the concerned look on Donal’s face told him that perhaps that didn’t come across as much as his exhaustion and worry did.

  “Ye canna be weel, Angus,” Donal said, as he took a seat across from him. “When was the last time ye slept, lad? When was the last time ye ate?”

  Angus didn’t know the answer to either of those questions, so he simply shrugged and reached for the carafe of wine that stood on his desk, pouring them both a cup. He must have looked just as bad as he felt, Angus thought, and he wondered if everyone was as worried about him as Donal was.

  He really hoped that they weren’t.

  “I’ll sleep when this war is over,” Angus said. “My people are in danger, Donal. Surely, ye understand why I canna sleep or eat or do anything other than try to formulate battle plans. That’s why yer here, after all, isnae it?”

  Donal sighed as he took his cup in his hand and had a sip of wine. “Aye, I suppose so,” he said. “I told ye in my letter that I’d do anything in my power to help ye. I brought three dozen men with me today, and more will follow if ye need them.”

  “I canna thank ye enough.”

  Angus had been worried half to death that his men wouldn’t be enough to fight the Keiths’ forces, but with Donal’s help, the future seemed just a little brighter. He wasn’t as worried anymore, at least not about losing the battle; what he was worried about was that many of them, Donal’s men included, would end up dead.

  “There isnae a need to thank me,” Donal assured him. “But I’d like to ken why I am sending my men to battle. They’d like to ken, too, I believe.”

  “So would I,” Angus said. “I dinnae have the slightest idea why the Keith clan has been attacking us, Donal, but they dinnae seem like they are going to stop any time soon. Hamish is their leader . . . my spies havenae found out why he is doing this. As far as I ken, the Keiths and the MacMillans were always in good terms, always friendly. We havenae had a war with them before.”

  Donal hummed thoughtfully as he listened to Angus, a hand coming up to scratch at his short beard. “It’s strange,” he said. “Are ye certain that ye never did anything to anger them?”

  “Aye, of course, I’m certain,” Angus said. “Why would I ever do such a thing?”

  “I dinnae ken,” Donal said with a small shrug. “Perhaps Hamish has gone mad . . . perhaps that’s all it is. Perhaps he wishes to conquer all the Highlands. Ye canna ken with him, he has always been . . .”

  “A blabbering fool,” Angus said, finishing Donal’s sentence for him and coaxing a laugh out of him. “Weel . . . it doesnae matter the noo. All that matters is that we win this war.”

  “Aye,” Donal agreed. “And if I may give ye some advice, Angus, I think ye should marry a bonny lass.”

  Angus frowned at the other man. “Marry?” he asked. “That’s hardly my priority right noo.”

  “Perhaps it should be,” Donal insisted. “Yer people . . . they are still divided, are they not? A marriage to a noble lass is the only thing that will unite them. It’s the one thing that will make them stop suspecting ye of foul play.”

  Donal didn’t have to say anything else.
Angus knew precisely to what he was referring. After all, he had been the one to console him when his wife and child had died, and he had been the one who witnessed the cruelty of the MacMillan clan first-hand. Some had even accused Donal of assisting Angus with the murders and the cover-up, and yet Donal had never said a single bad word about them.

  “Ye may be right, though I am loath to admit it,” Angus said. “I suppose if I marry a noble lass, then perhaps the people will change their minds about me.”

  “I ken that they will,” Donal said. “We simply have to find ye one.”

  Angus laughed then, though there was little humor behind it. That would be a task in and of itself, he thought, since no woman in her right mind would want to marry him after everything that they had heard about him. First, there had been Vika, and maybe if he had stopped there, the women of the clan would feel sorry for him. After Kirsteen, though, it was unlikely that he would find a woman who wasn’t afraid of him.

  And who would marry him if they were all afraid of him?

  “Ye might come to realize that it’s more difficult than it sounds, finding me a wife,” Angus said, but then Donal simply shrugged at him.

  “I’m sure it will be,” he said. “But it’s for the good of the people. I’ll stay here for a few days, to see if we can find ye a wife, and then I’ll take Ishbel back with me.”

  If Angus was going to marry anyone, then he would choose Ishbel, under any other circumstances, at least. She wasn’t the right woman to marry, though, not when he married for the specific purpose of uniting the clan.

  He needed someone who was born and raised there, and as much as the people in his clan loved Ishbel, she wouldn’t have the same effect on them.

  “Did ye receive my letter?” Angus asked then, curious as to why Donal hadn’t mentioned anything about it. At the very least, he expected the other man to tease him about his feelings.

  “About Ishbel?” Donal asked. “Aye . . . Vanora had a lovely time reading it, ye ken. But she isnae the right lass for this, Angus.”

  And so, Donal confirmed Angus’ worries. A part of him had hoped that Donal would suggest Ishbel since he knew about Angus’ feelings for her, but he was right; Angus had to think about his clan, not about himself, and so he had to let Ishbel go.

  “Aye, I ken,” Angus said. “Ye’ll keep her safe, aye? She wishes to travel, she said . . . she wished to travel the world, maybe go back to France.”

  “I’ll arrange it,” Donal assured him. “She’s not only yer beloved . . . she’s also my wife’s cousin, and if I let anything happen to her, Vanora will have my head. Dinnae worry . . . she’ll be fine.”

  “Thank ye, Donal.”

  There was a short pause between the two men, but all the while, Angus could see that there was something in Donal’s mind, something that he wanted to tell him. He had known him for so long, after all, that he knew all of his quirks and the way that he fidgeted with his thumbs and blinked almost constantly signaled to Angus that something was going on.

  “What is it?” Angus asked when his curiosity grew too much to handle.

  Still, Donal hesitated. He opened his mouth as though he was prepared to say something, and then he closed it again with a sigh, shaking his head.

  “Tell me, Donal.”

  “It’s Vika.”

  Angus didn’t know what he expected, but that certainly wasn’t it. Several scenarios passed through his head when Donal spoke Vika’s name, and all of them were bad enough to make him go pale, his hands quickly getting clammy with sweat.

  Had she died? And if she had, should he even care?

  “What about her?” Angus asked, his voice suddenly coming out shaky and weak. It was all he could ask, all he could utter before his voice gave out.

  “Vanora said that she isnae in the monastery any longer,” Donal informed him. “It sounds like she escaped, though no one kens how or why . . . she has nothing to her name, Angus. I dinnae ken where she could have possibly gone or what she could have done, but that’s what Vanora told me. She received word from the monastery soon after Vika’s disappearance.”

  Angus stayed silent for a while. He was mulling it over in his head, thinking about all the places where Vika had gone, all the people that could have helped her, but he could think of no one. Perhaps life at the monastery didn’t suit her, and so she had left, but had done so without having any prospects or anywhere to go. Perhaps she was out there somewhere, her lavish lifestyle left behind and working to make ends meet.

  The important thing was that she didn’t have a way of entering their lives again.

  There was one question, though, that wormed its way into Angus’ mind, and he simply couldn’t shake off.

  “Are ye certain that she left on her own?” he asked Donal. “What if someone took her? What if something happened to her?”

  Donal gave Angus a look that the latter couldn’t quite decipher. There was some worry there, but also pity, and it was a look that Angus didn’t like at all.

  “What if something did?’ Donal asked. “What does it matter to ye, Angus? Will ye go looking for her? Will ye go after her to save her?”

  Angus scoffed at that. “No . . . dinnae be foolish. Why would I do such a thing? She is dead to me, ye hear? I dinnae care what happens to her.”

  “Yer the one who is foolish, Angus,” Donal said. “Forget her. Forget Vika, dinnae concern yerself with anything that has to do with her.”

  “Then why did ye tell me?” Angus asked, suddenly irritated. “If ye dinnae want me to concern myself with her, why did ye tell me that she’s no longer in the monastery?”

  “I thought ye should ken,” Donal said, giving Angus a small shrug. “I thought ye should ken, in case . . . in case she comes back, or in case something happens. She is a snake, Angus, and she’ll strike again the first chance she gets.”

  “I doubt she’ll come back, Donal.” Angus was rather convinced of it. There was nothing left for her there, after all, not when everyone knew what kind of person she was. Still, Angus would be cautious. It was always better to be cautious when it came to Vika.

  “If ye say so,” Donal said, as he grabbed the cup of wine and raised it in the air. “Weel . . . enough about Vika. A toast . . . to ye, Laird MacMillan, and to leading the MacMillan clan to victory.”

  Angus joined Donal, raising his own cup in a toast. “May God help us and crown us victorious.”

  Angus and Donal drained their cups before Angus refilled them. It was going to be a long night of coming up with plans and strategies for the clan war, and they would need the wine.

  War loomed dark and heavy over Angus’ head, but so did the matter of Vika, despite Donal’s insistence that he shouldn’t even think about her. He couldn’t help but do so, his mind occupied by her phantom, her venom seeping deep into every crevice of his head.

  If he had known then just how close Vika was to him, then he would have gone to war that same night.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ishbel had prepared everything for her departure. The prospect of travelling had once seemed like a dream, something that she craved more than anything else. Now, though, it only seemed like yet another thing that kept her away from Angus.

  She didn’t want to go with Donal to the Cameron castle. She had no desire to spend the rest of her life traveling anymore, not when she couldn’t do it with Angus next to her.

  It was strange, she thought, how fast she had fallen for him, but Angus was a lovable man, no matter what everyone else said. He was a man who needed love, her love, and yet Ishbel would have to live with the knowledge that she could never give it to him.

  A part of her regretted agreeing to follow Donal back to his home, but it was what Angus wanted. Besides, she knew that she would be a distraction for him during the war with the Keith clan, and it was the last thing that she wanted.

  She needed him to be focused because she needed him to win. It was the only way that they could see each other again.

 
Ishbel had heard some rumors circulating the castle that Angus was looking for a wife, though. After everything that she had heard about Angus himself, she had stopped paying rumors any mind, but this one seemed to be true, and it was a rumor that made sense to her.

  It was only natural that Angus would try to unite his clan in times of danger. It was only natural that he would seek a wife, a woman from within the clan, who could make him look good in the eyes of the people.

  It was only natural that it wouldn’t be Ishbel. She wasn’t from those parts, after all, and many didn’t even know who she was.

  If Angus was going to marry another woman, though, even if they did end up seeing each other again, Ishbel knew that they would never look at each other the same way.

  She tried to not think about it. The more she thought about it, the more she despaired, and the more the pain in her chest grew. It was what it was, and there was no changing it.