His Highland Surprise (The Clan Sinclair Book 1)

by Celeste Barclay

  “Out with it then,” Tavish growled. His temper rose with each moment of familiarity Ceit showed these guards.

  “He isnae in his cell, ma lord. Lord Hay, well, he took him out. They are, um, in a separate room. The lord doesnae want to be disturbed. This may nae be the best time.”

  “He is ma brother,” Tavish reached back for his sword and drew it. “I would advise ye take yer coin and step aside.”

  He darted his eyes to Ceit but never shifted his attention from the two guards.

  “Ye should go.”

  She did not need telling twice.

  “Please be careful,” and then she was moving back up the stairs to the passageway, leaving Tavish with a waft of her perfume. His sister and sisters by marriage preferred floral scents, but Tavish noticed the night before that it was thyme and rosemary that Ceit wore. When he no longer saw her, he turned back to the guards.

  “I dinna want to hurt ye, but I will kill ye if ye stand in the way of me seeing ma brother.”

  “Ye’re one of the Sinclairs?”

  “Aye, he is. See his plaid. This isnae worth ma head. I amnae willing to fight a losing battle,” said the one on the left.

  Both men allowed Tavish to pass. He walked along the dim corridor of cells. Most were empty, but a few held pitiful shells of men who languished there with no hope of ever leaving. He was almost to the end when a roar of pain reached him. He recognized the sound. He was sure it was Magnus. He ran to the room and kicked the door open. The sight that met him forced so much fury to course through him he hardly saw through it. He took in Magnus strapped to a table and a man who must have been Lord Archibald Hay swirling a cat o’ nine tails above his head, ready to lay another lash across Magnus’s already shredded back.

  “Hay! I will kill ye!” Tavish hurtled himself into the room and thrust his sword towards the man who inflicted pain of more than one kind on his brother. “The king didna authorize ye to torture ma brother. Ye dinna want to obey? Neither do I.”

  Before Hay landed another lash on Magnus’s back, Tavish slid his sword into Hay’s side. Not enough to kill him, but deep enough to slow him from battering Magnus.

  “Magnus, would ye like the honor of killing this pile of dung, or can I just be done?”

  “Neither.” Magnus moaned in a voice that cracked from days of disuse.

  “Neither? Why the hell nae?”

  “I have just the perfect place for him to visit.”

  “Purgatory?”

  “It shall feel more like hell.”

  “Then it willna be a visit. More like a new home.”

  “That’s aboot the right of it.”

  Hay keeled over as the brothers exchanged words as though they were in the lists rather than a torture chamber.

  “Tav, did ye kill him? I told ye nae to do that.”

  Tavish looked around but saw neither of the guards who fled. Tavish crossed to the table that held Magnus in only two strides and unbuckled him.

  “Och, Magnus. Ye’re in a right state. I dinna ken what to say.”

  “That’s a first,” Magnus got the words out before he groaned.

  “We need to get ye to the healer sharpish. Ye dinna look well.”

  “Ye must be pleased aboot that. Ye might finally be the handsome brother if never the tall one.”

  Tavish laughed more from the relief of hearing his brother make jokes than the actual words. His height was a constant source of humor for his brothers and annoyance for him. They were so similar in height that most only picked out Magnus from the breadth of his shoulders. Even up close, the only way many people told Callum, Alexander, and Tavish apart was that Tavish most resembled their father with their barrel chests and thick limbs.

  “Ye canna be that close to dead if ye still have yer sense of humor.” Tavish held Magnus upright as he dragged him towards the door and away from the various torture tools hanging from the walls.

  “Are ye sure ye didna kill him?”

  “Bah, the wee mon just canna handle a little twinge. It isnae like I ran him through. Naught but a scratch to the ribs. Probably just canna stomach the sight of his own blood.” Tavish nudged the man with his boot and saw his chest move. “Someone will find him here soon enough.”

  Two guards who were not the ones Ceit bribed stood sentry outside Magnus’s cell.

  “Where do ye think ye’re going? This mon’s a prisoner of the king.”

  Tavish still had his sword in one hand and had every intention of getting his brother out of this pit of hell even if he had to fight them both one handed. When they stepped forward, Tavish looked at Magnus who leaned against him. He would not endanger Magnus when he was incapable of defending himself. He would have to let Magnus rest against the wall while he dispatched their blockade. Magnus shook his head. Magnus’s silent message shocked Tavish. He would stay in the dungeon.

  “Vera well. I will go to the king directly. When I return for his release, ma brother will have been given real fresh water nae the pish ye give prisoners. Do ye understand? I dinna need to be clearer, do I?”

  The guards nodded and watched as Tavish led Magnus into a cell that was so disgusting that Tavish was not sure if he wanted to howl in anger or weep in sorrow. Guilt flooded him. He did not want to leave his brother there for another moment, but he needed to secure the king’s approval before he took Magnus away.

  “I will be back as soon as I can, little brother. Dinna fash. Ye’ll nae even have time to miss me.” Tavish grinned as the guard shut and locked the door between them.

  “Tav, what aboot Deir?”

  Tavish did not want to admit that he had no clue where the woman was. He understood it would only cause Magnus further pain, but he would not lie.

  “I dinna ken. Nay one has seen her in days. Her parents insist that she is unwell and confined to her chamber. I have heard otherwise. I believe she isnae here anymore, but I dinna ken where she is either.”

  “Tavish, wait. I need ye to give something to the king.” Magnus reached into his sporran and pulled out something that Tavish did not recognize. “It’s our marriage decree.”

  Tavish looked at his brother for a long moment before rushing from the cell and the dungeon.

  Chapter Five

  Uncle Hamish, I saw Magnus,” Tavish whispered as he sat beside his uncle in the crowded Great Hall. He scanned the chamber in search of Ceit. His time in the dungeons took longer than he realized, and he feared she had not made it back into the main castle. He spotted her as she stood among the other ladies-in-waiting.

  “Aye,” Hamish murmured around his mug of ale.

  “Hay got to him.”

  His uncle stared at him as his jaw ticked. As a child, Tavish had seen that look only once before. It was when he fed his uncle’s horse too many apples and gave the animal colic.

  “Cat o’ nine tails.”

  Hamish let loose a string of curses and pushed the bench back. If Tavish had not been sitting on it, it would have crashed to the floor. His uncle was marching towards the dais, and Tavish was close behind.

  “Laird Sutherland, I see you found your other nephew. Quite the family reunion here at court,” the king’s comment overlooked their earlier audience. The monarch was well aware the two had spent time together.

  “I would like to reunite with ma other nephew. It seems ye saw fit to see him tortured. I would like to ensure he will survive.”

  “What?” The king roared and leaned so far across the table, Tavish wondered if he might topple over it. “You are accusing me of torture. On what grounds?”

  “On the grounds that Tavish just came from the dungeons where he found Magnus beaten and lashed by a cat o’ nine tails.”

  “I did not authorize that.” The king scanned the crowd that was now silently listening to yet another royal exchange with a Sinclair. “Hay. Where is Lord Hay?”

  The king’s face became mottled with anger as a page whispered something unintelligible in the king’s ear.

  “Tha
t man oversteps for the final time. Fraser, you have a fair amount to explain when this is said and done,” the king glared at Laird Fraser who was only a few chairs down. Turning his attention back to Tavish and Hamish, the king looked chagrined.

  “It seems Lord Hay took matters into his own hands. No one was given instructions or permission to abuse Magnus. Tavish, it seems you have handled the matter of Lord Hay.” The king said with finality, however, Tavish was not finished.

  “Yer Majesty, I amnae even nearly done with the matter of Lord Hay. I amnae content to leave ma brother to fester and die, either. He is badly beaten and in need of a healer. This never should have happened. Ma brother and his wife are legally wed. I have the proof here.” Tavish slapped the parchment Magnus had given him onto the dais.

  The king frowned when Tavish approached without invitation, but the page handed the vellum to the king anyway.

  “Bishop Mackenzie?” The king questioned as he unsealed the missive and read its contents. Tavish was sure the man read it three times before he looked up.

  “There is more here than just the formal statement of a marriage. Tavish, it would seem all you stated upon your arrival is accurate. Bishop Mackenzie has provided multiple dates to corroborate your accounting of Magnus and Lady Deirdre’s relationship. In the eyes of the church, the couple has been married for the past seven years. Their exchange of vows before the bishop was a reaffirmation of their union not the initiation of a new one. I cannot set aside, nor do I want to, a union blessed by God. There is sanctity in marriage, and this marriage has weathered enough storms. That said, Tavish, your father will pay a bride price to the Frasers that is well past due. You shall give the same amount to the court as recompense for the time spent providing for Magnus’s wife as she served the queen.”

  Tavish bristled at the suggestion that he should buy his brother’s freedom as though he was some serf who would be traded to a new landlord. This was what his father feared and why the wiser man insisted Tavish travel with the extra coin. The nerve-wracking experience was now worth it.

  “Name the price, Sire. I believe I can have it arranged before morn.”

  “How can you be so sure you can afford such terms?”

  “When Magnus didna return when expected, we feared something happened to him. Our fears are justified. Ma father sent me with a ransom chest in case I should need to buy his freedom.” Tavish cast a withering look at Laird Fraser before returning his attention to the king. “I came well prepared.”

  “Very well. Retrieve your coin, and I will have Magnus sent to his chamber. He is free from the dungeon, but until you settle the bride price, he remains in royal custody.”

  “Vera well, Sire. Will ye send his wife to him now? I understand she has been poorly, but I am sure they would prefer to recover together.” Tavish had every intention of making both the king and Laird Fraser squirm. If he was unable to have his brother next to him right this minute, he would make them regret it.

  “I will have her sent to him forthwith.”

  “Your Grace,” Fraser hoarsely spoke around the others seated between him and the king, “that will not be possible. At least not immediately. Your Grace, Lady Deirdre is not at court right now. She resides where we believed she would live with her husband. Or rather Lord Archibald,” he hedged.

  “Where exactly is she?”

  “Crichton, Sire.”

  “That is the other side of Edinburgh!” The king veritably snarled. “Fraser, you are testing my patience.”

  The king spoke to a guardsman who stepped forward when beckoned.

  “Have Magnus freed. Give him food, clothing, whatever aid he needs. See his horse is ready whenever he decides to ride out.” The king looked haggard when he glanced over at Hamish and Tavish. “This wrong will be righted.”

  Tavish and Hamish parted ways when Tavish went in search of Ceit. After seeing Magnus’s condition, he was sure he needed her help. When he looked for her at the end of his conversation with the king, she was no longer standing with the other ladies-in-waiting. He headed toward the passageway leading to the ladies’ chambers. He did not have to go far before he saw her bustling towards him carrying a basket over her arm.

  “I had to return to ma chamber to gather ma medicinals,” she said before Tavish asked.

  “They are having Magnus released and brought to his chamber.”

  “I gathered as much. I have already summoned a bath be taken there. He will need to bathe before I can tend his wounds.”

  Tavish was glad for his long legs as Ceit’s purposeful stride was nearly as long as his. She looked straight ahead and kept her voice low.

  “What did Hay do to him?” she glanced sideways. “Tav, I have to ken so I can treat him properly.”

  She reached out her hand and placed it on his forearm.

  “I wish I didna have to make ye speak of it, but I want to help him the best I can. I want to be prepared as soon as he is clean, and that means I will have to blend a tincture and even add to ma salve.”

  Tavish nodded and looked at her upturned face. Her earnest expression made him want to stop and pull her in for an embrace. She was willing to tend his brother for his sake and for her friend’s. His heart tugged to see her compassion and willingness to give. He pulled his arm to take her hand. It was so small inside his which was more a paw in comparison.

  “Thank ye, lass. It was a cat o’ nine tails.” He was getting mighty tired of saying those four words.

  They reached Magnus’s chamber just as he and Elizabeth Fraser arrived. He looked at Elizabeth, but Ceit slipped past him to greet her.

  “Magnus, this is Ceit. She has knowledge of the healing arts. I asked her to take a look at yer wounds, and she agreed.”

  “I amnae ready yet for ye to tend them.” Magnus gestured to his ruined lean and filthy plaid.

  “I ken. I’ve already had a bath sent to yer chamber. Once ye are presentable, Ceit has a salve for yer back and yer leg.” Tavish did not intend to take credit for Ceit’s forethought, but he was not sure of his brother’s reaction to the unknown woman, and he would rather take the brunt of any raw emotions Magnus kept bottled up.

  “I dinna mean to be unappreciative, but canna ye just give the salve to ma brother?” Tavish was relieved that exhaustion and not anger filled his brother’s voice.

  “Lord Magnus, I need to look to see the extent of the damage. Ye could have an infection starting. If that’s the case, then I must treat it differently than I would just a deep cut. As for yer leg, I need to be sure ye sealed it thoroughly. If it wasna, then I may have to reopen it and cut away the putrid skin.”

  She noticed his limp too. And she made a fair guess what may have happened. She will be an appreciated addition to the clan. Och, there I go again already assuming she will marry me. I will convince her. I amnae giving her up.

  Tavish fought to bring his mind back around to the conversation as a solid sense of peace settled over him when he declared, albeit in his head, that he would marry Ceit.

  “That was already done before Deirdre branded it shut.”

  “That doesnae mean it is healing.”

  Tavish listened to her dulcet tones and realized people most likely considered her timid or even meek, but he sensed she held the resolve of a warrior when needed. He counted his blessings he had only seen hints rather than been on the receiving end.

  “Ye’re wondering aboot ma speech. I havenae been at court that vera long. If I concentrate, then I can hide ma accent, but I dinna see a need with ye.”

  She’s bluidy perceptive too.

  “Vera well.” Magnus conceded.

  Elizabeth stepped forward.

  “I will fetch some of her belongings. She will need at least fresh clothing.”

  “Thank ye, Elizabeth.”

  “Beth. Dee calls me Beth in private. We are family now.” The woman who Tavish recognized as his sister’s by marriage cousin slipped away. He would have to thank her later.

  Ceit at
tempted to stand in the doorway, but Magnus halted.

  “I amnae coming in, so dinna fash. I amnae interested in watching a mon bathe.”

  Tavish grumbled, “Ye’d best not be.”

  He was certain neither listened to him.

  “There is a special soap in there that I would have ye use to clean yer back.”

  Ceit looked back at Tavish but did not understand why he scowled.

  He is vera handsome and fierce, but he shall give himself wrinkles if he keeps scowling. I want to run ma finger between his brows and soothe away his tension. Where the hell did that come from? Ceit, the last thing ye need is a tendre for this mon. I ken he will leave as soon as they resolve this matter with his brother.

  “Ye have to help him.”

  “What?” Magnus and Tavish spluttered.

  “I havenae needed anyone to bathe me since I was just out of short pants.”

  Ceit stared at their ridiculousness.

  “Ye’re brothers. It’s nae like either of ye havenae seen the other in the buff. Ye have the same parts. There is nay way, Magnus, that ye will be able to scrub yer own back. Tavish, help yer brother. Dinna be selfish.”

  Tavish’s glare settled on her, but she was already looking at Magnus again.

  “Unless ye would prefer I summon a maid.”

  “Nay.”

  Tavish watched a faraway look slide into Magnus’s eyes, and he wanted to laugh. Even in his condition, Tavish snorted at Magnus’s healthy appetite for his wife.

  “Magnus. Stop fantasizing aboot yer wife. Ye can do that on yer horse on the way to fetch her.”

  “Right.”

  Ceit handed the basket to Magnus but did not let Tavish past. She placed her hand in his again and squeezed.

  “Dinna be afraid to be a bit rough. I can see already that his leine has dried into some cuts. Ye must get them completely clean. There canna be even a single thread left in one if ye want to prevent infection.”

  Tavish recognized the seriousness in her voice and the earnestness in her eyes. He nodded. He would do anything and everything to help his brother.

  After Magnus bathed and Elizabeth returned, the two women entered Magnus’s chamber. Ceit looked around to find the best place to work. She needed light, so she led Magnus to the window embrasure where she pushed aside the covering and examined the wounds. They were raw and inflamed but none of the lashes had cut too deep. Tavish had been thorough as she instructed. She did not need to stitch any of them closed, but they would need constant tending for the next several days. He was at risk for a fever if the wounds were not kept clean and protected. Tavish and Magnus would journey to retrieve Deirdre, and she also accepted she was in for another squabble with Tavish when she insisted on accompanying them.