Leith: A Clean Time Travel Highland Romance (Highland Passages Book 3)

by Annis Reid

  And Leith knew what he had to do.

  “My horse!” he bellowed, running at once for the stables.

  22

  The sky outside the window was starting to lighten.

  This was it.

  She hoped Leith had left, and that was why she hadn’t seen him again. Maybe he’d seen she was right, that he didn’t have a chance if he chose to stick around. He would hang next to her if Niall had his way.

  It was for the best. Even now, sitting in her ruined silk, grimy and hungry and thirsty and knowing her life had come down to these last few minutes, she could smile. She knew Leith was all right, and that was one good thing she could hold in her heart before she died.

  Already there were voices outside. People eager to watch her swing from a rope for killing that awful Flora. If she had done it, she would’ve been doing the world a favor. But no. Flora had gotten clumsy, was all. Too determined to have her way. She hadn’t been thinking, and look where it got her.

  Melissa hadn’t been thinking, either. If she had been, she never would’ve gone into that tower.

  Look where it got her.

  She snickered, looking around the cell like she hadn’t stared at its walls all through the day and night. Sleep was hardly an option with the end of her life hanging over her. Even though there was nothing to see but filthy-caked walls and a narrow window, at least she was alive and conscious. To waste any of that precious time in sleep would’ve been a waste.

  What would her friends go through? It made her sick, thinking of them. They would never know. They might spend years looking for her, hoping to find her somehow. Just a word, a clue, something. Nobody could imagine what really happened. Even she could barely make sense of it, and she was the one living through it.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered with no one to hear. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Come on, lassie.” One of the guards entered the cell house, smirking when he found her sitting on the floor like she’d been sitting all night. “The time is here.”

  That was it. That was how he announced it was time for her to die. He couldn’t even be bothered to sound sorry for her.

  Then again, he thought she was a murderer. There wasn’t generally a lot of sympathy for murderers.

  Don’t let them see you cry. That was all she had to hold onto as she fought her way to her feet, legs numb from sitting so long in the same position. She wouldn’t break down. She couldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her break down.

  Even when dozens of them were waiting for her outside the cells. It was like everybody in the whole castle came out to see her hanged. Didn’t they have anything better to do?

  The first piece of garbage flew her way—an egg. Charming. It splattered on her gown and ran down the skirt. Then another egg. Then a moldy potato. She flinched, trying to avoid being hit, telling herself she didn’t hear the laughter and jeers and curses being hurled along with so much trash.

  Don’t cry. Don’t let them see you cry. She held her head as high as she could, staring straight ahead through the parting crowd. When would it end? Where were they taking her?

  There was no sign of Leith. She held onto that, telling herself he was safe somewhere and maybe he would remember her fondly in the years to come. He had loved her, and she loved him, and plenty of people never even had that much to look back on.

  “Hurry on with it, then!” Niall MacNeill waited beneath a gnarled tree, its thick limbs twisting around each other. There was a rope slung over one such limb with a noose tied at the end. “I want justice for my daughter, and I shall have it!”

  A cheer rose up, and the cries for her death grew louder and more violent until she could barely hear herself think. Maybe death would be a blessing after this. At least she would never have to see any of these people again or hear them curse her.

  A single tear trickled down her cheek, no matter how she fought against it. This was it. She could barely believe it, but there was no denying how grim things looked. No one would come to save her. There was no proof that she hadn’t killed Flora.

  And she knew then that in the back of her mind, she had always hoped Leith would come through somehow. That he wouldn’t let this happen. Yes, it was better for him to stay safe, but…

  “Have ye anything to say for yourself, lass?” Mervyn Fraser looked like he’d aged a decade overnight, circles standing out under his eyes.

  “I am innocent,” she whispered, staring at him. Her heart sank when she recognized understanding and pity in his eyes. Leith had spoken to him. He understood.

  But it didn’t mean a thing, because there was no choice but to give Niall what he wanted. To do anything else would mean risking a war between the clans, and of course any decent laird would do everything in his power to avoid that.

  “Forgive me,” he whispered, his back to the crowd, before stepping away. She could only fight back a broken sob. Even he knew she didn’t do it, and there was nothing he could say or do to stop this crazy thing from happening.

  “Killer!”

  “Murderess!”

  “Hang her high!”

  She closed her eyes, willing them out of her awareness. Instead of listening to them, she pictured Leith.

  And she smiled as the noose tightened around her throat.

  “Stop this madness at once!”

  The roar came from somewhere in the back of the crowd, far away from the tree.

  Melissa’s eyes snapped open just in time to see men on horseback streaming into the courtyard, led by a tall, red-headed man with a sword in one hand.

  He was a lot older, with gray streaking the red strands, and he didn’t have a beard. But there was no doubting that this was Leith’s father.

  “What is this?” he demanded, bringing his horse around and looking over the crowd. The first rays of sunlight touched upon the sword, making it shine.

  “Dinna try to stop this, Kirk MacManus!” Niall shouted, fighting his way through the crushing throng. “If it were not for ye shirking yer duty, none of this would have taken place!”

  “Aye, I admit I fell short of my duty,” Kirk called out, “but that is no reason to hang an innocent lass!”

  “Who are ye to call her innocent?” Niall demanded, and those around him shouted their support for this while eyeing Kirk with suspicion.

  “We have proof!” a second man shouted, joining Kirk. Boy, were the genes in the MacManus family strong. This had to be Malcolm, Leith’s younger brother, a little thinner and clean-shaven but with the same features, the same eyes.

  They came for her. They came for her! She finally let herself cry.

  “What proof would that be?” Mervyn asked, stepping forward to meet the men as more and more of them poured through the gate.

  One horse in particular parted the crowd. A familiar horse.

  A familiar rider.

  Melissa’s knees almost buckled when Leith’s gaze fell on her. He nodded once before dismounting, and revealing who’d been riding behind him.

  “Gwynna?” she breathed. The girl looked like she’d been through a battle, her clothes filthy, her hair hanging in snarls around her face.

  “She attempted to flee in the night, but I happened upon her just before she made her escape,” Leith called out. “T’was a difficult time catching her, but she happened to run straight into my clan as they came to support me.”

  But why? Melissa watched, holding her breath, waiting to see what this was all about. Even the people who’d only just finished calling for her to swing high fell silent.

  “I—that is, Mistress Flora planned to poison Leith MacManus’s wife,” Gwynna announced, her voice barely carrying. She was petrified, obviously, hardly speaking above a whisper.

  But it was loud enough for Niall to hear. “This is preposterous!” he bellowed. “Ye tell lies, lass! How much did he offer ye to lie today?”

  “Tis not a lie,” Gwynna insisted, tears swimming in her eyes. “She told me so. Mistress Flora wanted to kill that
woman so she might wed Leith MacManus, instead. We spoke of it just yesterday morning, I swear it.”

  “What difference does it make what ye swear and dinna swear?” Niall laughed, but it was a hollow sound with more than a little panic in it. He was losing it, plain and simple.

  Gwynna looked to Leith, who nodded firmly while holding the reins to control Eoghan. “Show them, lass,” he ordered, never taking his eyes from her.

  She reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a slim vial. “I was going to take it and throw it away,” she wept. “Mistress Flora was dead, and I did not wish for any to know of what she had planned. I wished to protect her and Clan MacNeill, is all. I swear it. I did not wish for this woman to be hanged, but t’was for my clan. Forgive me,” she added, looking to Melissa.

  Melissa could only stare in mute surprise. What was there to say?

  Leith turned to Niall. “When I told your daughter that I had planned to take Melissa and leave before the priest’s arrival, she knew she would have no chance to use her poison. She lured Melissa into the tower, then, and intended to push her over. They fought, and t’was Flora who tumbled over in her stead. Melissa meant her no harm. She only fought to defend her own life.”

  “I will have no more of this madness,” Kirk growled. “Ye will release that woman and be done with it. Justice has already been served. I regret my part in this, ye have my word on it, but this woman does not deserve to die because of a forgetful old man’s mistake.”

  “Release her,” Mervyn ordered, and one of the guards took the noose from around Melissa’s neck. It was a miracle. She could hardly believe it.

  Leith ran to her. She ran to him. They met in the middle, crashing into each other.

  “Lass, lass, I thought I might have been too late,” he choked, crushing her against him and kissing her forehead and cheeks, cradling the back of her head in one hand.

  “I thought you left, I hoped you were safe!”

  “I could never leave ye. Not for anything.” He let go just enough to look down at her, tears glistening on his cheeks. “I love ye. Have ye forgotten so soon?”

  “No. I didn’t forget.” She clung to him, shaking all over, never so relieved in all her life. He came for her. “How did your father know?”

  “Donald MacManus, at your service.” A tall, redheaded beast of a man stood next to Leith, bowing deeply when she looked his way. “Now, if ye might excuse me, I would like to eat until I’m fit to burst before sleeping until tomorrow.”

  “I shall explain all,” Leith promised, chuckling as Donald walked away. “For now, know that my cousin rode through the day and night to reach the castle and bring the men on the run.”

  “For me?” she breathed, stunned.

  “For ye, lassie. I would have sent for a thousand more if there had been the time.” He cupped her chin, gazing into her eyes. “Nothing is too much for ye. I would move mountains for ye.”

  She was starting to believe he meant what he said.

  “I do love you,” she whispered before standing on tiptoe to kiss him in front of everyone gathered around. Instead of cheering for her death, now they cheered for her survival.

  23

  “That’s what she told me.” Melissa shrugged, looking from one man to the other. “I’m sorry. I wish there were something else I could say.”

  Niall stared into the fire blazing merrily in Mervyn’s hearth. He was utterly silent, having been told of his mother’s treachery. Cairstine MacNeill had died years earlier, as had Mervyn’s father, and as such there was no means of confirming the tale.

  It did not appear as though any gathered in Mervyn’s study wished for confirmation. A glance around the room told Leith there was little doubt of the truth of it.

  “I did not know,” Niall finally muttered, never taking his eyes from the fire. “I tell ye, I did not.”

  “No man or woman present blames ye for what took place,” Mervyn assured him. “If anything, ‘tis a relief to know it. The dead might rest in peace now.”

  “What of my daughter? How will she rest?” Niall snorted, a bitter sound. There was no answering, for none of them knew. Niall left it at that, falling silent. A defeated man.

  “And yourself?” Kirk MacManus nodded to Melissa with a smile. “How are ye faring, lass?”

  “Better, now that I’m clean.” She wore the dress in which they had arrived at the castle, her skin nearly rubbed raw in the bath.

  He touched his thigh to hers, needing just that small bit of contact to remind him she was truly there. Alive and well and safe, at last.

  “Ye shall have to forgive my household and my guards,” Mervyn murmured. He could not look at her as he spoke. “They knew not what they did, ye ken.”

  “I do.” Though there was little forgiveness in her tone. Her words were clipped, sharp. No one could possibly ask for more than that, Leith supposed. And his uncle was wise enough to leave the matter there.

  Now that the excitement had calmed and all was well, Leith took note of his father’s fatigue. Truly, he was not a well man, and a hard ride through the highlands had done little to improve him. “Ye ought to rest,” he suggested. “Ye dinna appear well.”

  “I am just as well as I have ever been, lad, and ye would be wise to remember it.” Yet though he growled at his son, he winked at Melissa. “Tis been a great number of years since I have had reason to ride so. And t’was well worth the effort.”

  “What of uniting the clans?” That was Malcolm. Always thinking, always the one considering the situation from all sides. “The marriage was intended to unite Clans MacManus and MacNeill. What now?”

  Leith looked to his father, whose brows lowered as he considered this. When their eyes met, Leith shook his head just once. Slightly, barely enough to be noticed.

  His father understood, inclining his chin.

  Then, his expression brightened. “Niall MacNeill, ye have another daughter. Fair Fiona, unless I am more forgetful than I know.”

  This stirred Niall from his deep brooding. “Aye. Fiona.”

  “If my younger son, Malcolm, would be willing, I see no reason why he and Fiona would not make a fine match.” Kirk turned to Malcolm, brows lifting. “What say ye?”

  Malcolm cleared his throat, his face flushing. So now he knew what it meant to be on the spot, all eyes turned in his direction. While Leith supposed none would blame him for refusing after all which had just taken place, he had a notion that Malcolm would do what was right. He always did.

  “Fiona has a fine, gentle nature,” Malcolm reasoned aloud. “I have always held her in high regard.”

  “Aye, she is a bonny creature,” Kirk agreed, his eyes twinkling beneath bushy brows. “She would make a fine wife.”

  Leith glanced at Melissa and found her looking back and forth in wonder as this match was made.

  “Would ye be willing?” Mervyn prompted, looking to Niall.

  “Aye, I would at that.” Niall turned to Kirk. “That ye would even consider it after this—”

  “Tis my son’s decision, and ‘tis himself ye should thank,” Kirk corrected.

  “Indeed.” Niall stood and went to Malcolm. “Tis proud I am to make this match, to join our clans. While I had planned for my daughter to be wife of the laird, ‘tis no small thing to wed a fine man such as yourself.”

  Leith cleared his throat. “Och, ye bring something to mind which I had intended to speak of with my father and brother. I had wished for this to be a private matter, but…”

  Melissa looked up at him, just as unaware as the others. “What is it?” she whispered. The light and love shining from her eyes reminded him that he was doing what was right.

  As such, he stared into those loving, grey depths as he spoke to the room at large. “I wish to step down and allow Malcolm to act as laird when the time comes. I relinquish my claim on the land, the castle, the title.”

  “What is this?” Kirk hissed, rising from his chair. “Ye canna be serious!”

&n
bsp; “I am serious.” He turned to his father. “Tis a great honor, being your son and knowing I will be laird upon your passing. But it has never been an honor I have wished for. Instead, I would rather be with Melissa, if she will have me. She is not from this land. I would go with her, to her home, and make a life there.”

  It occurred to him, naturally, that they had never spoken of this. There had been no time. But while Niall was with them, it made sense to inform him of just who Fiona would wed and what this match would truly mean to her future.

  He looked to Melissa again. “If ye will have me,” he whispered, hopeful.

  “Are you sure about this?” she asked, squeezing his arm. “This is a huge sacrifice. I would never ask you to do this for me, you know that. Not ever.”

  “Aye, I know it. I do it of my own free will, knowing what I relinquish in favor of a life with ye.”

  Her eyes darted over his face, teeth biting into her lip. She wished to believe but did not dare allow herself to. “Even knowing what we might face? What it might be like for you?”

  “I know nothing of what it will be like,” he reminded her with a faint chuckle. “But I will be with ye, lassie, and that is all I need to know.”

  “It seems the decision has been made,” Kirk sighed. “Verra well, then. Ye have always known your own mind, son. And I know there is nothing I can say to change it.”

  “And what of yourself?” Leith grinned at his younger brother, who appeared more befuddled than ever before. It was not often that the cool-headed, rational Malcolm became unsettled.

  He had no chance to respond before a knock sounded at the door a moment before it swung open, revealing a young guard. “Laird Fraser? The priest has arrived.”

  “The priest?” Kirk asked, looking about for understanding.

  Mervyn held his head in his hands. “The annulment. I had forgotten entirely. It took the man long enough, did it not?”

  Leith resisted the urge to laugh, as did Melissa, but just barely.

  Until a thought occurred to him. “While he is here,” he whispered, taking her face in his hands. “Perhaps we can make use of him?”