Highland Yuletide Magic (The Band of Cousins Book 9)

by Keira Montclair

  That thought enflamed her panic. She’d promised Juel and Jamesina she’d be back before nightfall.

  They’d surely think she was dead. She had to leave at once.

  She glanced at the board and the bindings, moving it briefly enough to realize he was right about that injury. Memories of the incident itself came cascading back. That apple had pulled her, enticing her to use bad judgment. The reiver had attacked her, throwing her over the back of his horse, but the beast had bucked her off and sent her tumbling down a ravine.

  No wonder her head hurt. And what was this man’s part in that? Could the man who’d left food out for her really be in league with murderers?

  She rubbed her wrist, just then realizing it was indeed quite sore. Pushing herself up in bed with her other arm, she managed to sit up. “You cannot keep me here.” Though her head was pounding more insistently than it had before.

  “I’m sure your husband is searching for you. He’ll come here eventually. You need not worry.”

  “My husband? I have no husband.” He appeared relieved at her remark, although she couldn’t think why. It didn’t matter. The others were waiting for her. “I must go. You cannot keep me prisoner.”

  “Nay, but I must keep you from leaving now. There’s a bad storm that just started. Snow and wind. You’ll never be able to find your way. I’ll be glad to assist you once you have proven you’re capable of walking, but not until the storm is over. You’d surely die out there in your condition.”

  A sudden spell of dizziness overtook her, and she fell back onto the bed. Perhaps he was right. Besides, if she chose to leave at this moment, she’d regret one thing for certain.

  She was ravenous. “Would you be able to get me something to eat? Some stew? Bread? Cheese? Whatever you have will do.”

  Moray said, “Of course.”

  “And something to drink. Mayhap some goat’s milk?”

  “Aye, we have plenty of goats. I’ll be back in a few moments if you promise not to run away on me while I’m gone.” He stood and moved to the door, turning around to glance at her before he left. She wished he hadn’t because he had a grin that grabbed her. She’d noticed his looks from afar, but they were much more powerful up close.

  Moray was a distractingly handsome man. His long dark hair fell in waves nearly to his shoulders, but it was his eyes that were most arresting. A silvery-gray color with green flecks that seemed to shimmer whenever he blinked. He had a strong chin and a small scar across one brow, but it did not detract from his good looks. She guessed he’d be a strong leader because of his unwavering gaze.

  His deep voice caressed her, carrying with it the promise of a tender soul.

  But how could that be if he was affiliated with Muir Castle?

  “Lass?” he asked again.

  She shook her head and said, “Aye, I promise not to leave while you’re gone.”

  He left the chamber with a swagger that also caught her attention. His shoulders were as broad as the doorway and his upper arms were huge.

  Ignore him! You have to get back to the cave.

  She hadn’t lied. Desperate as she was to get back to the others, she needed to eat to gain her strength back. Her own weakness had worsened. If there truly was a storm raging outside, she’d need a strong constitution to battle it. She probably hadn’t eaten anything since she’d lain down in this bed.

  She needed sustenance, which meant she’d have to wait just a wee bit longer.

  When night fell, she’d sneak out, carrying as much cheese and bread as she could find. She wasn’t worried about the storm since she’d traveled in the snow many times with her sire. She and Juel loved the snow—they’d even made special shoes to help them walk through it, although the shoes had been in their hut with the rest of their belongings. Everything had been destroyed.

  She forced herself to sit up again, needing to gauge her ability to move about. Shifting her legs over the side of the bed, she sat on the edge, taking a deep breath before she attempted to push herself to standing.

  She didn’t last long before she fell back onto the soft mattress. The pain she could handle, but weakness had made her legs wobbly. Dizziness had disoriented her.

  Aye, she needed to eat and eat well.

  Lifting the night rail she wore, she peeked at the skin on her legs and her belly. She gasped at the darkness of the bruises, but it helped explain the aches and pains that riddled her body. A knock sounded at the door, so she dropped her gown quickly and tucked her legs back underneath the covers.

  Moray stepped inside, a smile on his face. “Celestina suggested broth with a few vegetables to start. I brought some cheese that I’ll leave on the table should you get hungry later when I’m not here. And here’s a goblet of fresh goat’s milk.”

  He set everything down on a small side table, then handed her the bowl of broth and a spoon. Thanking him, she set the bowl on her lap, then tasted one spoonful, moaning because of the warmth and the good taste. “You have a wonderful cook.”

  Moray’s eyes seemed to darken as he beheld her. She felt her cheeks flush. Perhaps it had been wrong of her to be so vocally appreciative, but the soup was heavenly.

  Moray looked off to the side as she continued to eat, then said, “I’ll tell my mother. She’s one of the cooks in the kitchens. She takes great pride in her talents.”

  “She should. This is wonderful. I may have to ask for another bowl.” She gave him a sheepish look and handed it to him when she finished it. “Please?”

  “My pleasure.”

  His voice came out in a husky tone, but he didn’t attempt to kiss her or touch her. Instead, he nodded to her and disappeared through the doorway.

  Moray Allen struck her as an honorable and trustworthy man, but her sire had told her not to trust anyone at Muir Castle. Jamesina had agreed with him.

  Although her own instincts pulled at her to confide in him, she couldn’t take the chance. Four people’s lives depended on her making the right decision. The smart thing to do would be to take what she could and leave in the middle of the night. Hanging her head, she quickly whispered, “Forgive me, Lord. But I must take care of my brother and my friends. Find me a way out of here.”

  ***

  Moray had to force himself to leave the lass’s chamber. He made a mental note to send someone out with a message for James MacFee as soon as the storm slowed a wee bit. After finishing the broth, she’d asked for more cheese and any fruit they had. He’d never seen a lass eat so much. The look of quiet defiance in her gaze had warned him of her stubborn streak. If he didn’t keep a close watch over her, he suspected she’d sneak out. And if she snuck out, he feared he’d find her dead body deep in a snowbank in a few days.

  The only reason he left was because he knew she could tell she wouldn’t try tonight—she was much too exhausted to leave at present. Her efforts to stand and do things for herself were weak at best, though he gave her credit for trying.

  Nay, she wasn’t going anywhere this night.

  He grabbed a goblet of ale in the great hall, which was almost empty. It was so late most of the clan were probably already abed. But to his surprise, the door opened and a slew of men came inside, brushing the snow off their clothing.

  “We made it,” Braden said, a wide grin crossing his face.

  Cairstine had just reached the top of the staircase and let out a squeal as she raced down the stairs to jump into her husband’s arms.

  “You missed me, lass?” he said, nuzzling her neck.

  “Aye,” she said, distancing her body from him a bit. “You’re cold.”

  Roddy came in behind him, his arm wrapped around his wife, Rose.

  “Rose! You made it!” Cairstine wrested away from her husband and launched herself at her friend.

  Braden said, “Wife, move away from the door and allow the others in. ’Tis a freezing night out there.”

  “The others?” She moved out of the way, her eyes widening as more people entered.

 
Brodie and Celestina came down the passageway from the tower rooms where they slept, summoned, no doubt, by the noise. “The Band has returned,” Brodie said with satisfaction. “A good mission, I hope.”

  Daniel Drummond, Braden’s and Roddy’s cousin, came in next, his one complete arm wrapped around his wife, Constance. He set her off to the side, then shook himself much like a dog, snow flying everywhere.

  Two lads came in behind him who Moray didn’t know, but then he noticed something unusual. They had each lost an arm, much like Daniel.

  Celestina and Cairstine fussed over the group, taking wet mantles and hanging them on the wall while Moray moved over to the fireplace and added more wood to warm the travelers. Cairstine retrieved a tray of cheese and a loaf of bread from the kitchens, bringing it out for the group while Brodie found ales for all.

  Watching the cousins, Moray had to admit he was a wee bit jealous. Joy emanated from them like light from the sun. Braden was so happy with Cairstine, and he could see Roddy was deeply in love with his wife. Although he didn’t know Daniel as well, it was obvious he and his wife savored each other’s company, too.

  Steenie appeared at the top of the stairs, rubbing his eyes. “A party? Papa, you made it back for Yule!” He flew down the stairs and launched himself into Braden’s arms.

  “Aye, we’ve returned. Now that we’re here, we’ll all help you decorate, Steenie. We must make the hall festive for Yule.”

  Roddy said, “We’ll all help.”

  “Hush,” Steenie cried. “I made Mama and Grandmama gifts for Yule. They’re ’corations for the hall. I cannot give them yet. ’Tis too early.”

  “Sit, sit,” Brodie said, ushering the guests toward the hearth. “We have plenty of time to make the hall festive. You must warm everyone up first, get food in your bellies. We’ve plenty of chairs for the ladies near the fire. Moray will have it roaring in no time. The stools can be moved over there as well. Tell us all that happened. How was the traveling?”

  Cairstine, her arm wrapped around Braden again, said, “I wasn’t expecting you all so soon, though I couldn’t be happier. Our friends are here, Steenie.”

  Daniel said, “We originally planned to stay the night at our castle tonight and travel on the morrow, but we pushed ahead to beat the weather. We figured we had enough guards to make the journey. Terric and Henry were eager to come with us,” he said, nodding toward the two lads who were already chatting with Steenie.

  A guard came inside carrying a wee lass with him. “This is Kelby,” Constance said. “We’ve adopted the three bairns as our own. She is enamored with horses, so Owen promised to let her see all the horses before she came in.”

  Steenie said, “I’ll show you my pony on the morrow.”

  “We already met Paddy. He came right out to greet Kelby,” Owen said.

  Steenie’s grin took up his entire face as he glanced at all the people inside. “Are you all staying for Yule?”

  “Aye,” Braden said. “We’ll have a crowd for the holiday.”

  Then Steenie became quite serious and said, “But what about the Dubh men? You cannot let them steal any bairns at Yule. You must fight them all.”

  The lad looked deeply upset—just like he always did when the Channel was mentioned. He’d nearly been sent across the waters, and he hadn’t forgotten.

  Braden knelt down to bring his face to Steenie’s level. “You need not worry any more about the Dubh men. We put an end to them.”

  His gaze now wide, he asked, “You did? They’re all gone?”

  “Aye, they’ll not be bothering bairns any longer,” Roddy said. “They’ll never steal another bairn.”

  Daniel held his goblet of ale up. “This will be a true celebration this Yule. New wives, new families, new castles, and no more Dubh men.”

  Moray grabbed his ale and joined them. He was glad Braden had returned for the holiday. It certainly felt like more of a celebration with such a large, boisterous group. True, it had been a difficult, heart-wrenching year, but they had a new life. A good life.

  He listened to the tales of the adventures the group had experienced in both Edinburgh and Berwick. They talked for a few hours before everyone split off for the night. Hilda had come inside with Corc to help Celestina make up all the chambers for the guests.

  Moray and his mother shared a good-sized cottage in the inner bailey, though he often slept on one of the pallets kept in the stables. Brodie had instructed Corc to bring the pallets inside for the storm. Rather than leave the castle, Moray decided he would sleep inside in the great hall this eve. He wished to be closer to Shona, where he would be better able to protect her.

  In fact, he decided to check on Shona one more time before he found his own pallet. He made his way to her chamber and knocked lightly on the door, when no one answered, he cracked it open. She slept on her side, looking like an angel if he’d ever seen one.

  How he wished she was part of Clan Grant.

  Chapter Eleven

  Shona awakened in the middle of the night—just as she’d planned. She’d always had the ability to wake up on command. She sat up and twisted in one movement, swinging her legs off the side of the bed. To her surprise, her body accommodated her.

  The pounding in her head had diminished, and though her wrist still ached along with multiple other spots on her body, her head had cleared enough that her thinking had improved.

  Enough for her to find her way back to the cave.

  Standing up, she moved over to the chest against the wall and opened it, surprised to see it filled with clothing, mostly tunics and trews. Apparently, whoever lived at Muir Castle was not worried about people escaping.

  Perhaps they didn’t make a habit of keeping prisoners.

  She fumbled through the chest until she found clothing she thought would fit, taking an extra two pairs of woolen hose. Juel and Benneit were quite thin. They’d need warmer socks to survive winter in the cave.

  One question continued to niggle at the back of her mind—could she trust Moray? She wanted to think he’d bring her brother and friends back and feed them thick stew and bread and cheese. And yet, a little voice kept whispering to her that it might be a mistake. That he might arrange for them to be placed in the Channel instead, and it would be her fault for trusting the wrong man.

  It didn’t help that she’d overheard part of the guests’ conversation in the hall. She’d surfaced to consciousness to hear them discussing the Channel of Dubh.

  She couldn’t make out the details, but they seemed to be cheering about the Channel’s accomplishments, a sad testament to what took place at Muir Castle.

  Even if Moray wasn’t a bad man, and she felt certain he wasn’t, one man alone couldn’t help them if everyone around him was wicked. Her only choice was to gather as much clothing and food as she could and get it back to Juel and the others. She’d be out the door of the kitchens long before the castle stirred on the morrow.

  It was nearly dawn before everyone had finally settled. Unfortunately, some of the guards had brought pallets in and slept in the hall, but the sound of snoring made her believe she could safely escape. After the ale they’d imbibed, she was quite sure no one would bother her.

  She packed warm clothes and food into her mantle and a small sack, donned the men’s trews from the chest along with her boots and clean socks, and found her way through the hall. No one budged so she crept into the kitchens, looking for any other food she could find, grabbing a meat pie to fuel her walk. When she opened the door to the back of the keep, she was shocked it was so hard to push, the wind already a force to be reckoned with. The ground sparkled with fresh snowfall, and flakes whipped through the air.

  She huddled under her mantle, pulling a scarf across her face, then followed the path to a gate in the back of the curtain wall. No one stopped her from leaving. Once outside the wall, she trudged through a thick forest, grateful for the shelter the trees provided from the whipping wind.

  Eating the meat pie in gulps,
she followed it with mouthfuls of snow, just enough to get it down. Her breath already came in short pants, because of the cold, the snow, and the wind she battled, but she could not stop. She needed to save the others. Nothing was more important.

  The wind blew snow crystals into her face, onto her eyelashes, and even into her nose. The temperature and wind combined were enough to freeze her nose hairs, something she hated, but there was nothing she could do about it except pull her scarf tighter across her face.

  She said a quick prayer of thanks to the seamstress who had sewn the wool scarf she’d borrowed because it was as tight a weave as any she’d owned, yet it allowed her to breathe through the fine openings.

  The wind howled and the snowfall became heavier. She found her bearings about an hour west of the castle, slipping easily onto the many paths she’d made herself in the forest. The ground was completely covered in white, so if Moray decided to try to follow her, he’d never be able to find any tracks. A surprising sadness coursed through her at the thought. Someday she hoped to marry a sweet and gentle man, like Moray seemed to be.

  But not until the evil Channel had been stopped.

  The sun came up and the landscape sparkled beautifully, but the wind howled, affecting her ability to see. Would she be able to find her way back to the cave?

  What if she was caught outside in the snow?

  At one point, she glanced up at the sun, hoping it would help orient her, but the swirling snow whipped around her face, making it impossible to tell east from west, north from south.

  Her sire had trained her on how to walk during blizzards. She knew to stay away from the hidden pockets where snow could collect in banks, and the sides of ravines where the snow could avalanche over her head, burying her. Her father had also taught her how to build a snow cave, though she prayed to make it to the cave where her brother awaited her before that was necessary. She’d always feared the thought of being buried in a bank of snow.