Highlands Forever (Books 1–3)

by Rand, Violetta

  The threat did as Jamie had hoped it would. Duncan stepped from the shadows, puffing his chest out. “Where is Laird MacKay?”

  “Beyond yer miserable reach.” Jamie moved quickly, snatching the lesser man up by the nape of his neck and giving him a violent shake. “Or perhaps it would be better to carve yer evil tongue from yer mouth—silencing ye forever. If given the choice, what part would ye keep, wee Duncan? Yer bollocks or yer tongue?” To demonstrate the seriousness of his threat, Jamie produced a dirk, shoving it under Duncan’s nose. “Glorious weapon, forged in the fires of a legendary weaponsmith in Constantinople.”

  Duncan attempted to kick free of Jamie’s grasp, failing miserably. Jamie simply tightened his hold, shaking him into compliance. “Answer, or I’ll make the choice for ye.”

  “Tis true then,” Duncan spit. “The MacKays are corrupted. Ye’ve conspired with heathens. Ruined yer chances at salvation with God.”

  Jamie threw his head back and laughed. Duncan would condemn the foreigners Jamie himself had grown to respect because they dinna worship the same god? Jamie slapped Duncan’s face. “Ye’re a hypocrite.” Just as he drew back a fist to strike, he heard someone approach the entrance to the cell.

  “Jamie MacKay,” Alex’s voice came harshly. “Let him go. Now.”

  Chapter Ten

  “She is the prettiest bairn I have ever seen, Keely.” Helen cradled the babe in her arms, tickling her perfect chin. “Rebecca is a lovely name.”

  “Ye havena asked her full name,” Keely said with a smile.

  “What is it?”

  “Rebecca Helen Elizabeth MacKay.”

  Helen gaped at her only friend. “Ye named her after me?”

  “Aye.”

  “Tis an honor.” She gazed at the child with deepened wonder.

  “And I want to ask ye something verra important.”

  “Anything.” In the short time she’d been with Keely, her spirits had been lifted. She felt safe and comfortable within the walls of the MacKay keep. Like she belonged there, like she mattered. No longer invisible as she always had been to her father, unless he needed something, Helen decided to fight for what she wanted—the right to choose her own future.

  “Would ye consider being Rebecca and John’s godmother?”

  The request pierced Helen’s heart. She sat in the closest chair, lifting Rebecca to her shoulder. “And who will be their godfather?”

  “Jamie.”

  The idea of being responsible for a child’s spiritual wellbeing scared and delighted Helen. She gazed lovingly at Rebecca and then at John who was sleeping in his mother’s arms. “How will ye raise them?”

  Keely nodded in understanding. “With more freedom than we ever had. To fear the Lord but to never be afraid to ask questions, to seek knowledge, or shrink away from doing what is right.”

  “Laird Alex agrees with ye?”

  Keely rolled her eyes. “My husband can hardly disagree, Helen. He broke with tradition and had every intention of never returning to the Highlands. I believe, we all believe, that God brought him home to save our clan.”

  “And has he?”

  “We are stronger than we’ve ever been. Strong alliances, wealth, faith, and children to fill this ancient place with laughter and happiness again.”

  Tears wet the corners of Helen’s eyes.

  “I am verra sorry.” Keely placed her son in his cradle, then rushed to Helen’s side. “In my own happiness, I failed to remember yer circumstances.”

  “Nay.” Helen wiped the tears from her eyes. “I am overjoyed at yer good fortune. And one day, God willing, I, too, will find my own happiness.”

  Keely squeezed her hand. “Ye deserve whatever ye wish. When I was lost and alone, ye gave me comfort. Now let me repay that kindness. My home is yer home. My family, yer family.”

  “Thank ye.”

  “Aye.” Keely hugged Helen.

  “I accept yer offer. Nothing would please me more than serving as godmother to yer twins.”

  “The baptism and feast are being planned.”

  “And will yer father and brothers attend?”

  “Aye. I am surprised they havena spoken to ye yet. Though one of my brothers is already taken with ye.”

  Helen blushed. “I am sure yer sire has many things to say to me, most not kind after finding out where ye were all that time.”

  “Nay. My father doesna blame ye. He has praised ye, as has my husband. No one within these walls wishes ill will upon ye.”

  “With the exception of Duncan Munroe.”

  “Tell me about him. Alex dinna wish to upset me, so he said nothing about why the man is here.” Keely lifted her daughter from Helen’s shoulder and gently set her in the cradle close to her brother’s, then sat down in the chair next to Helen’s.

  “Laird Munroe finds it beneath him to travel and meet me, so he sent his nephew and heir, Duncan Munroe. Of course, there’s questions about what happened to Duncan’s parents, too. His father was Laird Munroe’s younger brother. He and his wife died fifteen years ago, when Duncan was but a lad. The laird raised Duncan as his own son, grooming him for the laird’s chair, but keeping him at a distance.”

  “An unfortunate fate for any child.”

  “Aye. Trust between the Munroes doesna seem to exist.”

  “And ye fear marrying the man?”

  “I refuse to do anything with the man.”

  “Earl Sutherland willna let ye go easily.”

  Aye. Helen knew it all too well. Her father dinna like to lose. In fact, she tried to recall a time he had ever played fairly at anything. Even her dear mother had been tricked into marrying him. She sighed. She’d liked the idea of simply being Helen of the Highlands. But such fantasies were meant for idealistic girls, not a noblewoman who was expected to fulfill her father’s latest political move to gain an ally in the isles. The one thing Laird Munroe possessed that her father dinna: ships.

  “What are ye so heavy in thought about?” Keely asked.

  “My father.”

  “Ye miss him?”

  “Not in the way I should.”

  “I sympathize. It took much for my sire to completely forgive what he considered betrayal of my family.”

  Helen gazed at her friend. “Such demands aren’t made of our brothers.”

  “Nay?”

  “A man can walk away from his responsibilities and only faces the loss of his inheritance if he refuses to marry. But a daughter…”

  “Ye must learn to use the God-given gifts ye have to get what ye want.”

  Helen scrunched her face. She had no special gifts she could think of. “I am not like ye, Keely.”

  “What do ye mean?”

  “Daring and brave. Passionate and sure of who and what I want to be.”

  “Ye are very wrong, Helen.”

  “Nay. Look how long it took me to defy my father. Only the threat of marrying a monster like Laird Munroe inspired me to flee. I have been a weakling all my life. Accepting whatever my father decided for me, even giving absolute obedience to my brothers.”

  “Helen.” Keely slipped from her chair and kneeled in front of her friend, taking her hand. “Ye are beautiful and kind, educated, can manage an earl’s household, demand respect just by entering a chamber, and leave men begging to do yer bidding. If ye only knew how difficult is was for me to win the hearts of the MacKays after I married Alex. But ye… When I tell ye no one here has spoken against ye, I mean it.”

  “Only because they pity me, see how helpless I am, and think I need protection.”

  “Do ye not?”

  “Aye.”

  “Tis not yer fault. Ye canna deny yer birthright, but ye can make a new life for yerself.”

  She wanted to believe it. But the side of her that took after her father, that callous logic he had hammered into her since she was a wee lass, ruled her mind and heart. She must accept the inevitable eventually. Once Laird Alex sent a missive to her father, this new-found happiness
would end. “I will try, Keely.”

  “Good,” her friend said as she stood. “That is all I ask.”

  *

  “Do I need to say it again, Cousin?” Alex asked in an ominous tone.

  The wine-induced fog Jamie had found himself in cleared immediately. He eyed Duncan with hatred, knowing the bastard deserved to feel pain, to bleed, maybe even to die for the disgraceful things he’d said about Helen. It shouldna surprise him that Alex demanded he unhand the Munroe heir. His cousin was acting in the best interest of his clan, not for personal satisfaction.

  Truth be told, though the MacKays were powerful enough, and their army was growing in size every day as more suitable recruits were found, if the Sutherlands and Munroes joined forces against them, it would devastate his clan—possibly even destroy it. As for their allies, few would fight alongside them if they knew Helen Sutherland was in their custody; she legally belonged with her sire.

  “As ye wish.” Jamie let go of Duncan, letting him fall to the ground with a loud thud.

  “Jesus Christ!” Duncan yelped in obvious pain. “I demand justice. This man has insulted and assaulted me without cause.”

  Jamie snorted and kicked the coward in the ribs for good measure.

  “Jamie! Step out of the cell and lock it.”

  Jamie did as he was told.

  Alex stretched out his hand, palm up.

  Jamie dropped the key in his hand. “I’ve done as ye asked.”

  “Have ye?” Alex’s face twisted with anger. “If I hadna interceded when I did, what would ye have done to him?”

  Jamie raked his fingers through his hair. “Beat him senseless.”

  Alex shook his head. “Ye never could control yer temper.”

  “Only if provoked. Only if fighting for a just cause.”

  “Fair enough,” his cousin confirmed. “Is Lady Helen Sutherland worth killing a man over? A laird’s heir?”

  “I dinna say I’d kill him.”

  “Nay?”

  “Maybe I threatened him.”

  “Doona believe it.” Duncan threw himself against the bars of his cell, clinging to the thick columns of metal. “He intended to kill me, Laird MacKay. He’s a madman, even admitted he was crazed with lust.”

  Laird Alex turned to his prisoner. “Enough,” he commanded. “Ye have borne false witness against Lady Helen, a high crime, at least beneath my roof and according to God’s law.”

  “Who accuses me?”

  “Ye’re own words condemn ye, Duncan Munroe. My secretary has confirmed that Lady Helen’s signature on that marriage contract is a forgery. Twas not her hand that put ink on that paper.”

  “Then ye’d better accuse every laird with daughters in Alba of the same crime.”

  “I am not concerned with what every other laird does with his daughters, only what affects Lady Helen. She has sought my protection, and now that ye have been proven a liar, I am even more determined to keep her safe.”

  “That, too, is a violation of the law.”

  “Is it?” Alex crossed his arms over his chest. “Shall I summon a magistrate and provide the evidence against ye? Surely yer uncle would not appreciate his honor being questioned in such a public way.”

  Duncan’s lips curled into an ugly snarl as he huffed out a frustrated breath. “What will ye do with me?”

  “In order to set an example for my own people, in the morn, ye will be taken to the bailey and publicly whipped.”

  Duncan’s eyes widened. “Whipped? Like a criminal?”

  “Are ye not one?”

  “I warn ye of the ramifications ye may face once this news reaches my uncle’s ears.”

  Jamie picked up his weapon belt and buckled it around his waist.

  “It is my belief and sincerest hope that Laird Munroe might agree that his spoiled nephew is in need of a sound whipping.” With that, Alex turned, grabbed Jamie by the arm, and steered him out of the dungeon.

  Once they were in the great hall, Jamie and Alex sat at the high table alone. A maid brought them ale, bread, and cheese. “Who will deliver the blows to Duncan’s back?”

  “Is that all ye can think about, Jamie? What about yer own transgressions? Defying me? Striking Duncan without cause.”

  Jamie sucked down the ale. “He called her a whore.”

  “I would have dealt with him in time. Now I must release him after he’s received his punishment.”

  Jamie slammed his palm on the table, still enraged by Duncan Munroe’s words. “Why?”

  “To be fair. His punishment has been decided. I have no reason to hold him afterward.”

  “But…”

  “Ye took justice into yer own hands. Beat him. I could have delayed my decision, kept him in reasonable comfort, and eliminated the threat of him stirring up trouble for a while.”

  “Fook!” Jamie refilled his cup and drank it down.

  “Now, as for ye.” Alex blocked him from helping himself to a third serving of ale. “Go home for a few days. Clear yer head.”

  “Nay. I wish to see the entertainment tomorrow.”

  “I willna permit it. Trust in me, Cousin. I am not sending Duncan Munroe on his merry way. Three soldiers will escort him back to the isles, taking the longest and most dangerous route, of course. He willna be permitted to return to Dunrobin Castle, not now.”

  Relief flooded Jamie. Protecting Lady Helen came naturally to him. Which gave him pause. Perhaps he had become too involved with a woman he dinna know. Alex had a way of setting things right. Time away might help him regain control of his senses. And of course, bedding one of his pretty maidservants would cool his relentless lust. “All right,” he said, rising from the table. “I will go.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The next morning, Helen was awakened by loud voices in the corridor outside her chamber. She yawned and stretched, looking about the dimly lit room. The smell of fresh bread made her smile as she kicked her feet from under the heavy furs on her bed. Today was the first day she would enter the great hall vindicated, no longer an accused liar. That alone was worth rising early for.

  “Lady Helen,” Miran said. “Ye must break yer fast quickly if ye wish to join Laird Alex in the bailey to see Duncan Monroe punished.”

  Helen walked to the table where a platter of food waited and took a drink of water. She hadna learned of what happened to Duncan until she had dressed for bed. “I havena been permitted to watch such a display.”

  “Has a man ever accused ye of anything before, milady?” Miran filled a carved drinking vessel with watered-down wine and offered it to her mistress. “I think Laird Alex wishes ye to witness his justice being carried out.”

  “Will Lady Keely attend?” She sipped the wine and tasted the bread.

  “Nay, she is overly tired from all the excitement yesterday. Laird Alex insisted she stay abed today.”

  “And Master Jamie?” Helen shouldna ask so openly about him, but she couldna resist. His presence made her feel safe and comfortable, welcome within the walls of the MacKay keep.

  “Nay. I am sorry,” Miran said sadly.

  “Did something happen to him?” She set aside her food and stared anxiously at her maid.

  “He isna here.”

  “Miran, I doona need protection. If I ask ye a fair question, please answer me truthfully.”

  “Milady…”

  “I insist.” Helen sighed at her servant’s reluctant expression. “Were ye ordered not to tell me?”

  “Nay.”

  “Where is Jamie?”

  “After Petro declared the signature on the contract a forgery, Master Jamie drank too much wine and visited Duncan in his cell.”

  Helen closed her eyes, imagining a violent confrontation between the two men. “Is Jamie hurt?”

  Miran chuckled. “Only his pride for being sent home by Laird Alex. He bloodied that coward with no effort, without the laird’s approval, of course. Unfortunately, it changed the laird’s original plan to keep Duncan locked up. Ti
s why he will suffer the sting of the whip, then get escorted back to the isles.”

  Relieved that Jamie remained unharmed, she said, “Is Jamie’s home far from here?”

  “Nay—half a day’s ride.”

  “Have ye been there?” Helen asked as she slipped out of her nightdress.

  “Aye, a group of women volunteered to help clean the old manor house before Master Jamie returned to the Highlands from his travels. It took months to restore it, but well worth the effort, milady. Tis a lovely home with expansive lands and a view of the mountains and firth. A wee loch even sits behind the fortalice. Any man would be proud to claim it. Any woman.” Miran gazed at her.

  “I doona know what ye mean, Miran. Help me dress.”

  The maid smiled, her capable hands securing Helen’s pale green, wool gown. “If I may say, milady, tis hard to overlook the way ye and Master Jamie stare at each other.”

  “Miran!” Helen turned sharply, knowing she should chastise her for speaking so carelessly. But she couldna. Miran had the bluest, most honest eyes. And she genuinely cared about Helen. No matter the outcome of her future, she would ask Laird Alex if Miran could stay with her, even if she was forced to return to Dunrobin Castle. “I have nothing but admiration for Master Jamie.”

  “I well know,” Miran said, directing her to sit on a chair so she could dress Helen’s hair. “But I remind ye, milady, there are a dozen women who wish the man had them in his sights.”

  “Are ye a gàirdean?”

  Miran put her hand on her hip. “I’ve been known to help people fall in love occasionally.”

  “But ask nothing in return? No man for yerself?”

  “I’ve already told ye, I made a promise to my da. When the Almighty reveals the right man, I’ll know.” She combed a few more strands of Helen’s hair, then clapped her hands together. “Ye truly are a beautiful woman, Lady Helen.”

  Helen held up a small looking glass, admiring the way Miran had coiled the length of her hair on top of her head, and the dozens of loose curls framing her oval-shaped face. She wore no embellishments in her hair and no jewelry. Twouldn’t be fitting for such a somber moment. The thought of watching a man get whipped, even if he was Duncan Munroe, made her sick to her stomach. Though she’d heard stories about men her sire had punished similarly, she’d never been around it—never seen much violence.