Highland Heart

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Highland Heart Page 11

by Ruth Ryan Langan


  "Your father is very protective of you, my lady."

  He looked up to see color flood her cheeks. By the gods, he said the

  wrong thing. He wished he could cut out his tongue.

  "I did not mean" -He stopped abruptly then tried again.

  "If I had someone as lovely as you depending upon me, I would be every

  bit as protective."

  Lindsey blushed to her toes.

  Jamie tossed the contents of his tankard into the flames, feeling his

  frustration grow, It was impossible to talk to this female. He turned

  away, but her words stopped him.

  "Have you no one depending upon you, Jamie Mac Donald?"

  He turned back. Her eyes met his for the first time. He knelt and

  tossed a branch on the fire.

  "There are many who depend upon me. But none I can call family."

  For some strange reason that eased her mind. Not that she cared

  whether or not he had a wife and hairns. But the thought pleased

  her.

  Jamie MacDonald was a man alone.

  "But what about Brice Campbell, the Highland Barbar ian? Is he not

  your family?"

  "My foster father. He took me in as a boy when my entire clan was

  destroyed in battle."

  "You, have no parents? No brothers or sisters?"

  He shook his head.

  Lindsey tried to imagine what it would be like to have no one. No

  adoring father. No brothers to tease, to laugh with, to weep over. Sh

  felt a stab of pain around her heart. For the first time, instead of

  seeing him merely as the Heart less MacDonald, she began to see Jamie

  MacDonald as something far different.

  "And Brice Campbell? Has he a family of his own?"

  "Aye. A lovely wife, Meredith. And wee hairns." Jamie's eyes lit,

  and Lindsey was amazed at how he was transformed. His voice

  softened.

  "She will give him many fine sons and daughters."

  "Men." She laughed, and the sound of her laughter warmed him.

  "You sound just like Donald. He thinks every female in our village

  would like to give him children."

  "I do not know about men like your brother. Perhaps," Jamie said

  carefully, "he will find a woman who will make him forget all the

  others."

  "Now you sound like Father."

  Jamie shrugged.

  "I know only that Brice and Meredith were a most unlikely match."

  "A pity. I hope they managed to find a little happiness."

  "You misunderstand, my lady. Although they seemed an unlikely match,

  the love they share is there in their eyes for all to see."

  Jamie tossed the rest of the branch on the fire and went to fetch the

  horses. Alone, Lindsey pondered what he had just said. Love. What a

  strange, unpredictable emotion. Though her father and mother were from

  far different clans, one warlike, the other peaceful, theirs had been a

  great love.

  She shook her head. She would never understand such things. And she

  doubted she would ever have to deal with such confusing feelings.

  She watched as Jamie returned, leading their horses. He held her mount

  as she pulled herself into the saddle.

  "We should reach your father's camp before the sun is directly

  overhead," Jamie said, leading the way.

  As they moved out, a gray, shadowy figure slipped through the forest,

  keeping them always in sight.

  Jamie's thoughts grew dark as they neared the camp. This band of

  highwaymen was cunning. They had probably been cheating and robbing

  travelers along this route for many years. For every villain he had

  captured, there would be five more hiding in the forest. If he were to

  capture all of them, he would first have to catch their leader. One

  name sprang to mind. Ian MacPherson. Though Jamie had not spoken of

  it to Lindsey, he was certain that MacPherson was the leader of the

  band of cutthroats. He prayed that the Highlanders in camp had been

  quick enough to prevent the escape of that scheming villain when he had

  come to demand a ransom.

  Jamie's hands tightened on the reins. He wanted only a few minutes

  alone with MacPherson. And the one called Argus. Never again would

  they inflict their pain on a help less woman. And never again would

  they spread fear and loathing among the people of this region.

  Seeing Jamie's dark mood, Lindsey rode beside him in silence. There

  was so much about this man she did not know. He seemed reluctant to

  reveal even the smallest de tails. His life as an orphan, or his years

  spent with Brice Campbell. Both Brice and Jamie were legends in this

  country. And both men, she thought with quickening pulse, were close

  friends of the queen.

  Her musings were interrupted by the sharp tang of wood smoke.

  Jamie touched a hand to her shoulder to warn her of approaching danger.

  As they entered the forest, they could make out the shapes of men in

  the distance.

  At the sound of a familiar voice, Lindsey slid from her horse and broke

  into a run. The men in the camp paused in their work to look up.

  One figure separated himself from the others.

  "Lindsey. Praise heaven."

  At her father's words, Lindsey flew into his arms. She was swept up in

  a ferv+nt embrace as a great sigh of relief issued from deep within

  him.

  Her four brothers converged on her from different points around the

  camp, wrapping their arms around both their father and sister. It was

  a most joyful reunion as they laughed and kissed and hugged. Everyone

  was talking at once, with no one making any sense.

  When at last they had all embraced, Douglas held her a little away,

  studying her through narrowed eyes.

  "Are you truly unharmed, daughter?"

  "Aye, Father."

  From his vantage point, Jamie watched the way the lass held her cloak

  firmly around her, shielding her bruised flesh from her father's

  view.

  "We were greatly relieved when Neal found us in the forest to tell us

  that you were safe," Murray said. He turned to Jamie with a solemn

  look.

  "When I first heard that my brothers left Lindsey alone with you, I was

  not happy, for my sister is a sheltered maiden."

  "Murray," his father said, touching a hand to his son's arm.

  "I understand your fears," Jamie said quickly.

  "You have every right to feel as you do about your sister. But I

  assure you that she has been returned to you as I found her."

  "And I," Douglas said with fervor, "am grateful to you, Jamie

  MacDonald, for leading my sons to the villains' camp. I would entrust

  my daughter to your care at any time."

  Jamie accepted the man's outstretched hand and grasped it firmly.

  "I

  know how you suffered at the loss of your daughter, Douglas. I am

  grateful that we arrived in time to save her. " He glanced around.

  "Where are the prisoners?"

  "They escaped."

  Jamie's eyes narrowed.

  "All of them? How could this happen?"

  "We woke this morrow to find them gone. The guards we had posted were

  all dead, their throats slit."

  Jamie's countenance grew dark with fury.

  "How many men have
we lost?"

  "Six," Douglas said.

  "Six men." Jamie grew silent for a moment, then said sternly, "And

  their leader? Were you able to capture him when he came demanding the

  ransom for Lindsey's safe return?"

  "He never showed himself," Douglas Gordon replied.

  "He never came? But how could this be?"

  The old man shrugged.

  "Something must have happened to change his plans."

  "Aye. But we will continue to watch for him," said a voice behind For

  a moment Jamie stood frozen to the spot. He refused to turn. He knew

  that voice. Knew the face he would see.

  Fury churned within him, making his blood boil. How could this man

  stand among them, feigning innocence?

  Carefully schooling his features, Jamie turned slowly and found himself

  face-to-face with Ian MacPherson.

  Chapter Nine

  Ignoring Jamie's look of fury, Ian strode forward and caught Lindsey's

  hand, bringing it to his lips.

  "I regret that I was too late to save you myself, my lady."

  "Too late?" Jamie's eyes narrowed with sudden fury.

  "Aye," Douglas interjected.

  "Robbie and Neal met Ian on the journey back to camp. It seems Ian had

  been searching all the night for our Lindsey. In fact, he saw the men

  who captured her."

  "Did you now? And you never sounded an alarm?" Jamie's hands clenched

  and unclenched at his sides.

  "I had hoped to take them by surprise." Ian tore his gaze from Lindsey

  long enough to reply.

  "As I explained to Douglas and his sons, I was intent upon securing the

  lady's freedom quickly and easily. When I saw the horses disappearing

  into the forest, I took up my sword and followed as swiftly as

  possible."

  "You could have been killed," Lindsey protested.

  "You had no way of knowing there were only two of them."

  "Two or two score and ten, it mattered not, my lady. I gave no thought

  to my own safety. My only thought was that I must save you from those

  villains."

  "A single shout would have awakened the entire camp and alerted all to

  Lindsey's peril." Jamie took a menacing step closer, his hands curled

  into fists.

  "It would have been a simple matter for our entire company to overpower

  her abductors."

  "Alas," Ian said, shrugging his shoulders, "I realize now that I was

  misguided. But my mind was clouded by the danger to the lady. My only

  thought was to stop the villains and save the lady Lindsey."

  "If, as you said, you were close on their trail, how did you not locate

  them before we did?" Jamie demanded.

  "I must have lost them when they crossed the river. I hid myself until

  they disappeared into the forest. But when I tried to follow, I became

  lost in a maze of trails."

  "Odd," Jamie mused aloud, "that we were able to find them, even though

  We were far behind you. And even stranger that we did not come upon

  you in the forest."

  Ian turned, ignoring Jamie's taunts, to give Lindsey a brilliant

  smile.

  "Aye. But at least we are all safely together now."

  Jamie glanced from Douglas to his sons in disbelief. Surely they did

  not accept this story as truth. Were they all blind? Or worse,

  addled?

  "I do not believe you." Jamie's words were spoken in dangerously icy

  tones.

  Everyone in the camp went silent. Murray and Donald exchanged knowing

  looks. Neal and Robbie appeared nervous and agitated, glancing quickly

  toward their father for guidance.

  Lindsey's eyes went wide. Stepping close to Jamie she reached out a

  hand to" him, as if to silence his words, but he fixed her with a cold

  look, causing her to pull her hand away.

  "Do you call me a liar?" Ian's gaze darted from Jamie to Lindsey, then

  back to Jamie.

  "Aye." Jamie touched a hand to the sword at his waist.

  "Step away, Lindsey," he commanded softly.

  "Nay. You must not do this, Jamie." She cast a pleading look in her

  father's direction.

  Seeing the fire in Jamie's eyes, Douglas moved quickly to diffuse his

  anger.

  "I understand your mistrust, Jamie. We voiced the same questions as

  you. But Ian has put all our fears to rest. He carries a-missive from

  the queen, attesting that he journeys to Holyrood at her bidding.

  Surely one who has the trust of our queen must have our trust as

  well."

  Jamie's gaze never left kin's face.

  "I would read this missive."

  With a smug look Ian reached into his tunic and withdrew a rolled

  parchment. Handing it to Jamie he said with a sneer, "I hope the

  Heartless MacDonald can read."

  Jamie unrolled the parchment and studied the words, then carefully

  scrutinized the queen's seal. He handed it back without a word.

  Ian's voice was a low challenge.

  "I await your apology."

  Jamie fixed him with a chilling look.

  "You will receive my apology only when we reach Holyrood and hear this

  from the queen's own lips."

  Everyone in camp seemed shocked.

  "You would question the queen's seal upon this missive?"

  "Nay, only the manner in which you acquired this parchment." Jamie

  deliberately turned his back on Ian MacPherson and said to Douglas

  Gordon, "We take our leave of this place within the hour, my lord.

  Prepare your men to ride. "

  The old man glanced at his daughter and thought sadly about the joyful

  reunion he had planned.

  "I had hoped we could take a day to rest and feast my daughter's safe

  return before resuming our journey. She has been through so much."

  Jamie's lingering anger caused his words to be harsher than he

  intended.

  "And our queen has been through much more.

  "Twas your decision to bring the female along on this dangerous

  mission, my lord. Our queen has need of us. We have tarried long

  enough."

  Seeing the remorse on her father's face, Lindsey stepped between the

  old man and Jamie. The look she shot Jamie was filled with fury. To

  her father she murmured, "Do not fret. I am well rested and strong

  enough to ride." She turned to include Jamie as she muttered, "And,

  like my lord MacDonald, I am most eager to leave this place."

  Giving him one last furious look, Lindsey hurried away to change her

  gown and prepare for the journey looming before them.

  Douglas watched as Jamie's gaze followed his daughter. Then he turned

  and gave the order to his men that they should prepare to ride.

  Jamie drove their small band unmercifully. For the next two days they

  were up at dawn and riding hard until dusk. Four men took turns

  watching the camp each night while the others slept. Jamie refused to

  allow Ian to join those who watched. He made no secret of his intense

  distrust of the man.

  At night, as they sat around the fire, Jamie kept to him self. While

  the others spoke in muted tones, he mended harness" tended to his horse

  or sharpened his weapons.

  Often, as he worked, he watched Ian MacPherson seated by the fire,

  regaling the y
oung Neal and Robbie with stories of his adventures. The

  young, impressionable lads hung on every word spoken by' the man who

  carried a missive from their queen. In their eyes he had become an

  adventurer, a hero.

  When Lindsey joined the group around Ian, Jamie found himself honing

  the blade of his sword with a vengeance, until it was razor sharp. The

  lilt of Lindsey's laughter seemed to mock him. The husky sound of her

  voice on the night air only added to his misery. All in their companyl

  it would seem, had taken Ian MacPherson to their bosom.

  With a sense of sadness Lindsey watched Jamie as he drove himself and

  the others. During the day he led them silently through the

  treacherous Highlands, watching al ways for any sign of the band of

  villains that had escaped. When they made camp he worked long into the

  night, until the others were asleep. Often, before dawn, he was

  joining the men who guarded their camp.

  Did he never rest? Worse, did he never question his righteous

  attitude? Even though she harbored similar questions about Ian

  MacPherson, Lindsey was willing to wait until they reached Holyrood to

  make a judgment. But Jamie's mind had already hardened against the

  stranger. And once his decision had been made, he refused to back

  down.

  She missed Jamie, she realized with a shock. Though their

  conversations had often been stilted and awkward, they had, in their

  short time together, begun to enjoy and respect each other's company.

  As she listened to yet an other of Ian MacPherson's flamboyant stories,

  she experienced a deep yearning for Jamie's calm tones and quiet

  humility. She found Ian's boastful stories tiresome. What ever titles

  and honors had been bestowed upon the Heart less MacDonald, they had

  truly been won upon the battle field. The rumors that abounded about

  him were spread by " men who feared or respected him, and not by his

  own inflated sense of pride.

  She studied Jamie's shadowy silhouette, nearly swallowed up by the dark

  shape of trees around him. Getting to her feet she left the fire and

  made her way to where he worked over his horse's swollen hoof.

  He looked up as she drew near, then lowered his head and continued

  working as though she did not exist.

  He had stripped off his tunic and shirt and the muscles of his arms and

  shoulders rippled as he bent to his task. Despite the coolness of the

  evening, sweat beaded his brow.

  A lock of hair had fallen across his forehead, and Lindsey had to fight

  the urge to brush it away.

  "It is late to be working."

  "Aye." He did not bother to glance up.

  "But the work never ends."

  She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and studied him.

  "So it would seem."

  He leaned in to the horse, lifting its hoof as he applied a poultice.

  Lindsey studied Jamie's muscled thigh, straining against the fabric of

  his breeches. Suddenly her throat went dry and she was forced to

  swallow. Before she could think she blurted, "You avoid my family."

  "Nay, my lady." He lowered the horse's leg, then wiped his hands on

  his breeches before glancing at her, "This has naught to do with you or

  your family."

  "Ian MacPherson then. You avoid us because of Ian."

  "Aye." He turned and began walking toward a small stream that

  glistened in the moonlight. On the banks he knelt and plunged his arms

  into the cool water. Following several steps behind, Lindsey watched

  as he splashed water over his face and chest.

  "Can you not wait until we reach Edinburgh to judge him? Or does the

 

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