An Enemy at the Highland Court: An Enemies to Lovers Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 5)

by Celeste Barclay

  She and the Sutherlands had no choice but to ride through Munro land since it stretched east to the coast. Going west through Mackenzie territory would add extra days to their journey. She could practically see Urquhart land on her third day south, and it made her think of Wynda. Tears stung her eyes as she thought about her only friend at Foulis and her untimely death. It made her think of the bairn she believed she carried and all that Wynda lost along with the one that died with her. She was so lost in thought, knowing they were nearly off Munro land, that she was unprepared for the ambush. One moment she was cantering, and the next Lachlan was spurring them into a mad gallop toward the invisible border. While she spotted an ebony head of hair in the center in the pack that chased them, she knew immediately it wasn’t Padraig. The man’s build was wrong; too short and not broad enough across the shoulders.

  Duncan. Why would he chase after me? I thought he’d be the first to escort me off Munro land. He must know we’re almost to the border, and it’s clear that’s where we’re headed. Is he just in a hurry to chase us off?

  “Lady Cairren, those are Munros, and they aren’t a search party. They all carry bows,” Lachlan yelled over the sound of the horses. “We need to get over the border now. They outnumber us.”

  Cairren urged her horse on, but the mare couldn’t keep up with the stallions and geldings it rode alongside. While it didn’t flag, its stride wasn’t as long, and its gait wasn’t as quick. The men could tell and remained in a tight circle around her.

  “How does he know it’s us? Why else would he chase us?”

  “He must know you fled to us and figured the only reason we have to cross their land is to escort you.”

  “Couldn’t you be on the way to court for Blair?” Cairren struggled to talk as she gripped the reins and squeezed her thighs tightly around the horse’s flanks.

  “Not at this time of year.”

  Cairren fell silent as she focused on encouraging her horse to keep up. She glanced to her left and realized Lachlan was right. There had to be a score of men to the half-dozen Sutherlands. The Munros fanned out, trapping them on all sides but their left. If they went further east, they would be bound in by the Cromarty Firth. They had no choice but to outpace the Munros who were racing to move in front of them.

  When arrows began flying from the men ahead of them, Cairren couldn’t allow the Sutherland men to die for her. They might have been Lachlan’s men and even his guard, but they weren’t hers. When the second volley flew toward them. She reined in, the horse behind her nearly ramming hers.

  “Lady Cairren, we must go.”

  “Nay. Let Duncan take me. I won’t have your men dead on my account.”

  “Cairren’s that’s the point of an escort. Now move!” Lachlan bellowed, but it was too late. The Munros closed in, and Cairren looked at Duncan.

  “Let them live, and I go without a fuss. Let them return to Sutherland.”

  “It’s not that simple, bitch,” Duncan spat.

  The Sutherlands reached for their swords, but Cairren called out, “Wait!” She looked at Duncan, then the other Munros, some sneering at her, others bewildered by the unexpected attack. Cairren mumbled, “that’s the politest greeting he’s ever given me.”

  “There’s no doubt it’s coming with us,” Duncan chuckled at his own degrading comment. “I just haven’t decided how to kill the rest of you.”

  “Duncan,” Cairren tried to reason. “You can’t be serious. The Munros would never survive an attack from the Sutherlands, Sinclairs, and Mackays. After Wynda’s death, the Urquharts are likely to join in. And it wouldn’t surprise me if the Mackenzies’ and Sinclairs’ alliance isn’t finally put to use. The Mackenzies need few excuses to harry you. Let Lachlan and his men go.”

  Duncan considered what Cairren said, and after a long moment that seemed to draw on forever in Cairren’s mind, Duncan nodded.

  “Hand the whore over, and we will let you go,” Duncan spat.

  “No.” Lachlan’s answer was succinct, but Cairren shook her head.

  “I don’t want this,” she murmured to Lachlan. “Go home. I don’t want Sunderland men’s deaths on my conscience for the rest of time.”

  “And I’m not abandoning a lady to this miscreant.”

  “You don’t have a choice, Lach,” Duncan’s patronizing tone filled the air. “We outnumber you and will just take her. We have no problem leaving your carcasses to the animals. Mind your business and give her over.”

  Cairren decided for Lachlan when she swung down from her horse and tossed the reins to a stunned Sutherland warrior, leaving the borrowed plaids on the saddle. She slipped between the horses and walked toward Duncan. She stopped halfway and raised her chin, defiance radiating from her. “Padraig’s been looking for me, hasn’t he?”

  “My stupid little brother is chasing his tail trying to find his bitch. You’d think you were in heat the way he’s sniffing for you.”

  “Then you ken he’ll kill you if you harm me.”

  “So he might. Or he might not, since more of the guards are loyal to me than to him,” Duncan’s chuckle made a shiver slide down Cairren’s back. She knew it wasn’t true. While the clan hated her, most Munro warriors didn’t respect Duncan. She suspected his only allies were the men who rode with him that day. “I shall take you to face judgment.”

  Duncan nodded, and a man dismounted and stalked toward Cairren. She saw the rope in his hands, and she knew they would bind both her hands and her feet. The man produced a strip of Munro plaid and gagged her. She didn’t resist, but when she was flung belly-down over Duncan’s saddle, she thought she would cast up the bannocks and dried beef she ate to break her fast. He gave her backside a resounding slap. Duncan muttered, “I shall have fun with you before we do aught else.”

  Cairren tried to rear up and look at Lachlan. She hadn’t imagined when she surrendered that Duncan would assault her. She’d assumed that he wouldn’t actually want to touch her, that his actions in the past had just been to intimidate her. Now she knew just how deeply she had underestimated him. She tried to catch Lachlan’s eye, but it was impossible with the horse’s head in the way. The Munros spun around and headed southwest, the opposite direction from Foulis.

  Lachlan held up a staying hand until the men disappeared. “To Foulis, and don’t spare the horses.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Padraig decided after leaving Dunrobin to return to Foulis for more supplies and men before he would begin the chase to Stirling and possibly beyond. He was nearly home when he noticed the Sutherland party racing toward him. He reined in and waited, but his heart hammered when he heard Lachlan call out, “Your brother has her!”

  Padraig’s horse ate up the scant distance and reared when he pulled his mount to a stop. “How?” he demanded.

  “He had a score of men who outflanked us and shot at us. Lady Cairren refused to consider evading them, arguing she didn’t want to see any of us dead. Honorable, but it put her in your brother’s hands. She walked to him willingly, but he bound and gagged her, riding southwest. Fool that he is, he left us alive. I think Cairren’s argument aboot what awaited the Munros should we die was convincing. But he had to know we’d go straight to you.”

  Padraig looked in the direction Lachlan mentioned and wondered if Duncan would ride around the western side of Foulis and then head to Ross territory, where he would receive a warm welcome from Myrna. But Padraig knew he wouldn’t. It would be too easy for Padraig to cut him off, and it would put him in Mackenzie territory. Padraig wondered if Duncan would circle back and hide on Urquhart land or even try to get as far south as the Frasers. He just didn’t know.

  “He wouldn’t dare cross over into Mackenzie territory, would he?” Lachlan asked and brought Padraig out of his ruminations.

  “I doubt it. He might continue south to the Frasers, but that’s too far to return to Foulis without too many questions asked. He might head to Urquhart la—” Padraig suddenly knew where his brother would h
ead. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it immediately.

  “Are you planning to share what you’ve realized?” Lachlan asked as he looked sideways at Padraig.

  “He’s headed to the caves along the coast of Cromarty Firth where it meets Moray Firth. He’ll put Cairren in one of the caves and leave her there for high tide to drown her. It’s the easiest place to be rid of her without having to do it himself or worry aboot disposing of her body.”

  “If that’s the case, he probably rode far enough to see us turnaround and then turned east. He has an hour’s lead on us,” Lachlan noted.

  Padraig glanced in the sun’s direction and knew they couldn’t waste time if they were to be there before the afternoon high tide. He knew Cairren was a strong swimmer, but it wouldn’t matter if her skirts weighed her down and the waves bashed her against the rocks. Padraig, Lachlan, and their men spurred their horses to the east as Padraig began his litany of prayers over again.

  Cairren swallowed as the jostling and hanging upside down made her gorge rise. She would choke if she were ill with the gag in her mouth. She kept her eyes closed. Watching the ground race by beneath her had only made the sensation worse. She listened to the men, but they didn’t speak. She’d been able to tell when they turned east, but she didn’t know the geography around Foulis to know where they were going. She knew Cromarty Firth lay to the east, and she suspected that was where they were headed, but she wasn’t certain. She remembered Padraig telling her about the caves he’d explored as a child. He and Duncan rode out one day, and his older brother pushed him in just as the tide was changing. The tide nearly sucked Padraig into a cave. He told Cairren he’d never forgotten his fear, but one of his father’s guards had ridden after the boys when he learned they’d snuck out. Adam dove in and used his larger body to shield Padraig from the crashing waves until he could drag Padraig ashore. Cairren recalled Padraig telling her that Duncan received a beating for his actions, but he’d grinned at Padraig when his punishment was done, unrepentant for nearly killing his younger brother. Padraig told Cairren that it was that event that made him never trust his brother again. Cairren supposed Myrna’s duplicitous behavior surprised him at first, but Duncan’s hadn’t. He’d told Cairren he wouldn’t put anything past his brother’s depraved mind. Not after he saw Wynda’s body.

  Cairren caught a whiff of sea air, and her stomach finally sank, to her body’s relief but her mind's horror. She knew her death was imminent. She wondered if Lachlan and the Sutherlands would find Padraig. She had a moment of doubt that he would come for her, if he even guessed where Duncan took her. She almost slid from the horse when Duncan brought them to a stop. He’d fondled her bottom and breasts throughout the ride, even hitching up her skirts to reach his hand beneath to her bare skin. He’d tried to slide his hand between her legs, but she’d pushed her knees against his horse’s flank, threatening to push herself off the horse. The horse stumbled a step then tried to rear, and a hard spank rained down on her over her clothes. Duncan continued to touch her, but he didn’t risk his horse rearing and throwing them both.

  Duncan was none-too-gentle when he yanked Cairren from the horse. Her knees gave out, but when she sank to the ground, Duncan pulled her up by a handful of hair. She yelped behind the gag, and many of the men laughed. She scanned her surroundings, hearing the crashing waves and seeing the expanse of water. They were incongruous, the water flat but the waves loud. She knew it meant the tide was rising, and she knew it meant Duncan would hurry to place her inside a cave. They’d tied her hands in front of her, which made the horseback ride more comfortable, she supposed, but it also meant that she could reach the dirk she carried. It surprised her that Duncan hadn’t remembered she carried one and taken it from her. She tucked her belt under her arisaid since no one gave her a smaller plaid and still wore Padraig’s. This made it easier for her to move about Foulis with no one realizing she was armed; now that would come in handy. She was certain she could reach it, but she didn’t know whether she could saw through the ropes binding her hands and feet before the surf was higher than her head. Not for the first time did she wish she was taller.

  Still holding her hair and a rope coiled over his shoulder, Duncan maneuvered her along the uneven path that led to the caves. She caught her first glance at the caves, and her heart sank. The tide was rising, but people could still come and go. It meant Duncan had time to secure her in the cavern rather than just toss her in. She pretended to stumble when they reached the sand, giving her an opportunity to pull the sgian dubh free before Duncan pinned her arms down. The short, sharp knife would make fraying the rope easier, even if the blade wasn’t very long. She would also use it to stab Duncan, if she had the chance. Cairren trudged along as Duncan led her to the back of a cave. A stalagmite was conveniently located near the back wall. She kept the knife hidden within her sleeve; the blade nicked her with each step, but she figured having the blade poking her was the lesser of two evils.

  “I shall remove your gag, so you can scream to your heart’s content and ken no one is coming for you. Padraig will never guess to come here, and even if he did, the tide will have drowned you before he figures it out. Perhaps he’ll wade down and drag your corpse out. Likely, you’ll become food for the fish. There are some rather large ones with pointy teeth just waiting to tear you apart,” Duncan chuckled, but it faded when Cairren didn’t cringe. She knew the basking sharks were seasonal on the east coast, just as they were on the west. They would already be gone this close to winter. She also knew the water would be frigid.

  They splashed through the swishing water that entered the cave along with them. Cairren’s boots and skirts absorbed water, already making it hard to walk. She stumbled again and forced herself not to cry out when her dirk poked her. She was certain it broke the skin, and she wasn’t excited about blood attracting larger fish. She didn’t resist when Duncan tied her to the enormous standing stone, grateful that he bound the rope around her arms above the elbow. It meant she could work the thick coil free.

  “If there was only more time,” Duncan sighed. “I would have given you a good swiving.” His laugh echoed off the walls and sounded more like a cackle. He pulled the gag free before squeezing her chin between his fingers and thumb. “Go ahead and scream. I want to hear your fear as I walk away.”

  Cairren was tempted to spew the obscenities she’d learned at court and the ones she’d heard from the Munros, but she took care not to antagonize Duncan. She also didn’t want him to grow suspicious, so she let loose an ear-piercing scream as he moved toward the entrance. As soon as she could no longer see Duncan, she began working on the ropes. She would take her chances if he were to return, but she wouldn’t lose a minute while the tide surged toward her, splashing over her knees. The saltwater spray stung her eyes, and the frigid water splashing her face felt like shards of ice, but she worked quickly to cut the ropes. She grew impatient as the minutes passed, but it was awkward trying to drag the knife along the rope, especially without cutting herself. The water had reached her mid-thighs when the length gave way. She inched her way to the side of the cave where she saw a ledge that was wet but not submerged. She squatted, trying to keep her skirts out of the way as she worked to free her feet. She knew she had a better chance with her stronger legs propelling her through the water than her arms.

  Once her feet were loose and she’d kicked off her boots, she ripped at her skirts just above her knees. Her muscular legs would do her little good if they were tangled in fabric. She ripped a hole in the material, but it was hard to cut it. She stood on the hem, pulling the fabric taut, making it a little easier to tear. When she had a hole large enough for her fingers, she kept her feet on the hem of the skirt but took a large step forward while pulling up on the part her fingers held. The skirt tore, and she continued taking steps toward the mouth of the cave until the ledge ran out. She’d ripped a large enough hole that when she bent over and leaned against the wall, she could step through it. She gathered the mat
erial between her teeth and split the rest of it off. She was breathless by the time she finished. She pulled her arisaid loose. Her only regret to leaving it behind was that it was Padraig’s; she couldn’t care less that it was a Munro plaid. She watched the tide push it into the cavern before sucking it back toward her. The rushing water now submerged the ledge, and the water was rapidly rising to her waist. She tried to use the last few minutes she had to loosen her wrists. Between the knife and her teeth, the rope grew slack, but not enough to break through or to slip her hands out. She knew the bone chilling water would only make the fibers more rigid, but she had no choice. She had to abandon the cave, or it would become her coffin.

  Dunure Castle had a secret passageway that led below the cliffs to Browney’s Cave. Her parents insisted that their daughters know how to make their way through the tunnel and out to the postern gate. They’d shown the girls how to scale the rock face to find the key that unlocked the gate, allowing them freedom to the Firth of Clyde. She’d learned to swim in the firth and was grateful she knew what to expect as the icy water continued to rise. It didn’t make it feel any less cold, but it also didn’t steal her breath. Her father taught her to count how long each inward and outward surge lasted, so she would know when to surface and cling to the rocks. She tried not to dwell on the inward surge, which appeared more powerful, lasting longer than the outward.