by Elise Ramsay
Shuddering, despite the warmth of her roaring fire in that tiny cottage, she knew she must plan to move from here soon. She wanted to cry again, the cottage felt so very safe, but she knew that, sooner or later, she would be hunted down, even here. It would be a mistake to stop. She would have to keep heading south. All the way to the Lowlands. Whatever it took to keep her out of the arms of Tormod Sinclair. Suddenly, the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She had been about to take another piece of hot rabbit meat when she had heard what sounded like a twig snapping just outside the cottage. Effie stopped breathing and waited.
Had they caught her?
Chapter 3
Lachlan could not believe that he, an accomplished tracker, had trodden on a dry twig, just at his moment of victory. Breath held he stood deathly still and waited.
Suddenly, his quarry burst out from the swinging wooden door and was already making good her escape as he stood and gaped at the flash of ragged cream sleeves and dirty golden hair flying away from him.
Coming back to his senses, Lachlan gave chase. The moon was bright and he could see her quite clearly. For all that she was a young lassie, by God, she was fast. But not fast enough.
As he reached her, he took a firm hold of her arm. She spun round and lashed out as if to strike his face.
“Leave go of me, you pig! I shall not go back. Never, never!”
“Go back where?” Lachlan had to shout to make himself heard over her anguished cries. He loosened his grip and the lassie, taking quick and full advantage, yanked free from his grasp and set off running again. He was breathing hard, not because of the speed of the chase, but because the pure beauty of the lass had winded him. So, he had been right, she was a beauty.
He tore after her, finally bringing her to the ground and throwing himself on top of her. She wriggled and struggled violently. She was stronger than her lean frame had suggested.
“Stop!” shouted Lachlan, “For God’s sake, stop!” He reached out and pinned her flailing arms to the cold earth before she could land a blow on him. He felt her sag as if she had suddenly given up and then the worse thing happened.
She wept beneath him. Great sobbing gulps that seemed as if her very heart was broken. As if her very life was over. The sight and sound of those tears was like a knife to his chest and he had the urge to pull her to him. To hold her close.
Hellfire what had he done!
“Why are you weeping, lass?” he lowered his voice, hoping to soothe her enough to talk.
“Please, I cannot go back. I know my father sent you, I know you have to do his bidding, but I beg of you, please kill me. I cannot go back, I would rather I died this night than spend a lifetime with that abhorrent man.”
“Kill you?” Lachlan was struck dumb. He could think of nothing else to say. Instead, he looked into the beautiful tear stained face of the lassie he had so efficiently tracked. The lassie he had wanted, even from such a great distance as that from which he had first seen her.
“I cannot marry Tormod Sinclair. He is a cruel pig. He is evil.”
Lachlan was confused, no one had ever begged him to kill them. He could sense that she was fighting emotion and fear. For a moment, he stared trying to read if there was jest in her eyes. There was not. Her request for him to kill her was a true one.
“You could kill me...” she began again, almost cajoling, “and make it seem that some accident had befallen me. Please, I beg you, kill me. Make it fast. Do it now while I still have my resolve.” Her chest began to heave as she fought hard to choke back sobs.
Lachlan levered himself up and began to climb off her, albeit against his desire, as he had enjoyed the feel of her small, lean body beneath him. Still, he was a good man and to remain atop a weeping, frightened woman was something he would leave to his cousin, Rory. Lachlan was not such a man.
“Ach, kill you? I am not who you think I am, lass. I am not here to return you to your home. I am Lachlan Kincaid. Come on, let’s go inside and get you warmed by your wee fire, huh? You’re shaking.” The smell of her wee fire had been how he had finally tracked her for she had hidden her trail well.
Effie was, indeed, shaking violently, but from fear and shock rather than cold. Her head was spinning. He was being nice to her, kind even. What's more, she did not recognise his face and was growing in confidence that he was not one of her father’s trackers. She sat up weakly and was ashamed to see how visibly she shook. Just as she was beginning to doubt her ability to get to her feet, the man lifted her easily into his arms and strode away with her back into the warmth of the cottage. Gently, he set her down close to the still glowing fire. Then he took her heavy plaid shawl from the floor and knelt before her. As he gently wrapped her shaking body in its warmth, she studied his face.
On another day, a happier day, she would have noted his handsome features with a blush and a coy giggle. Today was not such a day, but he looked strong and handsome nonetheless. He was dark skinned for a Highlander, with deep brown hair. The only hints of red were odd strands of deep red-brown, like a fox. His eyes were very blue and stood out almost oddly against his darkness. Although she judged him to be a man who was much out of doors, his skin did not have the customary roughness to it, but seemed smooth, and the light of the flames seemed to dance in its sheen. He was a very tall man, but not slight. He was broadly built and pleasingly lean and muscular. She had definitely never seen the man before. The man; what had he called himself? Kincaid, wasn’t it? She tried to struggle to her feet, her face a perfect vision of fear once more.
“What now, lass? Ach, stay where you are, you are wearing me out!” He tried to be light, to smile at her reassuringly, but he could see he was not getting through.
“Kincaid! You said your name was Kincaid!”
“Aye, that’s right. Lachlan Kincaid.”
She knew him or, more correctly, she knew of him. His Clan, the Kincaid Clan, were aligned with her father. What was more, she knew that, young though he was, this man Lachlan had become the Chieftain in this last year. His family had been badly hit by morbid illness, illness which had claimed his uncle, the former Chieftain, not to mention his own father and brother. The tragic circumstances had left him as the head of his Clan, and as the head, he would have to think strategically. That’s what men did, they thought strategically. They did whatever had to be done to keep the right alliances, they married off their daughters to brutes..... They gave up the hiding place of a runaway wee lassies to their fathers....
“And you, if you are set to marry Tormod Sinclair, must be Ross Mackinnon’s wee lassie, no?”
So, he’d guessed it. Maybe he had known all along. He was just helping out a fellow Chieftain.
Lachlan could see the emotions flooding her beautiful face. She was suddenly so terrified of him again, and he was beginning to piece it together.
“So,” she said, “You’ve come for me after all. The head of the Kincaid Clan, come to drag me off to Hell.” She cast her eyes down and sat waiting for her fate to finally catch up with her.
“I am the Chieftain of the Kincaid Clan, you’re right there, but I’ve not come to take you back. I had no notion of you at all, I just saw you running today. I couldn’t shake the picture of you from my mind, and that’s all. I wanted to find you. I don’t really know why. Maybe just to find out what you were running from. Or who you were running from.” He began to gently wrap her shawl about her again, now that she had sunk back down to the floor.
“And now you know,” she said flatly, looking up at him through wet and exhausted eyes.
“Aye, now I know. And knowing Tormod Sinclair, I cannot blame you for running, lass. What should I call yer?”
“Effie. My name is Effie.” She began to hope that all was not lost. If he knew of Tormod and realised her plight, would he maybe help?
“Pretty name.” He smiled at her and, this time, she returned it with a weak smile of her own.
He studied her now, much more closely than he had been able to
amidst all of their drama. Her body was strong, but lean, wrapped in smooth, pale skin. Her golden hair was flecked with copper, but not enough to give it a red hue. Her eyes were such a blue-green as he had never seen in his life, and were shrewd and intelligent, even throughout her fear and anguish.
“Will you let me help you, Effie?”
“Can you? With Clan allegiances at stake? Are you willing?”
She was shrewd and obviously a good hunter. The delicious smell of rabbit attested to that. She was unlike any young lassie he’d ever met. She had taken on in a heartbeat, that any known intervention by the Kincaid Clan to prevent a union by marriage between the Mackinnon’s and the Sinclair’s, would tear a rift so wide between the Kincaid’s and the Mackinnon’s, that it would begin a feud that would thrive down the centuries. The Sinclair’s were neither friend nor foe at the present, but if he chose what he knew to be the right path, then Sinclair would prove to be a very formidable foe.
Could he really risk the security of his own people for years to come on the happiness of one wee girl?
“You need to sleep, Effie, I need you rested well before the break of dawn.”
He pulled her gently to the ground and laid her by the warmth of the fire. She was too exhausted to argue, or even to ask him what would happen next. She simply gave in, surrendering to the sleep she so badly needed.
Lachlan watched her sleep. Whatever his decision, he would need to make it long before daybreak. If he had tracked her here, then Mackinnon’s trackers would not be so far behind.
As sleep had taken her, the strain of the day seemed to slip from her face. She looked so peaceful, so serene, and he was certain that there could not be a more beautiful angel in Heaven. How could he feel so drawn to her? A lassie he’d spied only that day and from afar. As vile as the marriage would be, was it really his concern? And yet, the very thought of Sinclair’s filthy hands on Effie’s delicate body made him clench his fists so tightly it hurt.
He could, he thought, get her away. Accompany her down to the Lowlands, find her a new hiding place. There was a good chance his assistance would one day come to light, they were bound to be seen by someone, but maybe it was worth a try?
Lachlan knew in his heart what his answer was. He had not tracked her and held her and offered to help her, only to never set eyes upon that beautiful face ever again. No. He would take her with him. This was the lass he would one day marry. He would not force her. When it happened, it would be when she wanted him as much as he wanted her now. And he knew, he just knew, that day would come, as surely as he had known when he’d seen her running away that day, that she was beautiful. This wee lassie had stolen his highlander’s heart and he could never let her go.
His mind made up, he rose from his resting place and joined her by the fire. He lay behind her and gently cradled her tiny body in his arms. He would sleep now. He had to get her away before dawn. That was all he could think of for now. The centuries of feuding to come were a problem for another day.
Chapter 4
So, early in the morning, Lachlan woke Effie and guided her back to Kincaid castle. They walked in silence and when he looked back, she seemed to float above the mist, like some magical being made of light.
Though she tried to smile, there was worry in her eyes and it broke his heart. What was he to do? How could he keep her safe?
When they reached the castle, he took her around the back and in through the hidden tunnels. Quickly and quietly they stole down the hallways until he got her to his chamber and there he left her. “Stay in these rooms and you will be safe.”
“What am I to do?” she asked, her big eyes full of both fear and courage.
Lachlan had wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her against his chest. All he wanted to do was keep her safe but he did not know how. “I will work something out,” he said and then he ran from his rooms, There was one man who could advise him, Duns Blackhall.
Lachlan raced from the castle and down to the Kirk. The father would have finished morning prayers and would be in the vestry at this time. As he entered the Kirk, a sense of peace befell Lachlan and he knew he had come to the right place. Father Blackhall was impartial and had given him much help since his rise to be chieftain. It was good to be able to speak to someone who had nothing to gain. Someone impartial, but what would his friend think of the mess he had gotten himself into this time.
“Lachlan, it is good to see you,” Father Blackhall said.
“Father.” Lachlan looked up at the older man. Once a warrior and now a priest father Blackhall was an impressive figure. Long black hair was tied back in a ponytail and a scar ran down his right cheek but his eyes were friendly and he pointed to a Pew.
“Is there something you need to talk about?”
Lachlan nodded, Blackhall always seemed to know and could usually put him right with just a few words. Sitting down, he rested his head in his hands for a second and then he told his tale. “I know it sounds silly but I think I love her,” he finished.
The father said nothing for a few moments. It was as if he weighed the options behind his eyes. “I understand how you feel. That you want to do the right thing and that you want to help this wee lassie. I know the Lord would want to help her too and there are several ways that we can do this.”
Lachlan nodded, he knew that his friend would help but he could not see any way to prevent a feud. “Do I have the right to save this lassie if it hurts my clan?”
“Aye lad, you have the right to protect the weak but we will go about it the best way we can. Still there will be unrest and there may be bloodshed, but sometimes that is the right thing to do and the clan will back ye, of that I’m sure.”
Lachlan nodded but he could not answer for his throat felt as dry as a bone.
“Well, there are three ways to solve this. The first is to get a trusted clan member to spirit her away south and hope that nobody notices.”
Lachlan let out a sigh.
“So, that one does not fit well with ye. So you could hide her here with a trusted clan member.”
“That may work,” Lachlan said.
“Aye, but I think the best way is to bring her here in quiet and marry the girl. We say you spent the night together and that you wanted to do right by her. Wanted to save her reputation by wedding her rather than leaving her as a soiled woman. Only after the marriage did you realize who she was, by that time it is too late and we send recompense to the Mackinnon’s.”
Lachlan felt his throat tighten. Could he do this? Would she accept and if she did would it prevent the bloodshed? “I’m not sure she would go for that.”
“Well, then ye best talk to her and see what she wants. Pray on it and know that I am here if you need me.”
Epilogue
Lachlan made his way back to the castle and was careful to avoid as many people as possible. The last thing he wanted to do was get caught by Rory or one of his brothers. If he were to do this, it must be quick but what could he say to Effie?
When he got back to his room, he pushed open the door and was greeted by a squeal of protest.
“Git outta here,” Effie called as she grabbed onto a plain and pulled it tightly around her naked form.
Lachlan had not seen much but what he had melted his brain and he could do nothing but stare. Eventually, he got control. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Effie’s cheeks glowed red, as did her long slender neck and fine shoulders. “I was trying to clean up,” she said. “There were water and cloths, so I was cleaning off a little of the muck. Ye didnae need to come barging in here.”
Lachlan laughed. “These are my rooms.”
Auch I know but… oh never mind, turn your back while I get dressed.”
Lachlan turned around and listened as she pulled on her clothes. It was the most intriguing sound he had ever seen and it took all of his control to not turn around.
“I’m done,” she said.
Lachlan turned and the sight of her
made his heart stutter. Her golden hair was loose and it floated around her dirty dress. How he wanted to pull it from her and bath her in hot water and then carry her to his furs and spend the day with her. Heat spread across his cheeks and he had to cough to bring his mind back to the present. “I’ve been speaking to a friend of mine. We have three choices of what to do with you.”
“You make me sound like a horse to be traded on the market.”
“You have a lot of fire lassie, but as you said I have to do best by my clan as well as by you.” Lachlan regretted the words because he saw the fear in her eyes. It was as if she shrank before him and again he wanted to pull her to his chest and hold her tight. “We can hide you, send you south or -- we could say that we spent the night together and we could marry.”
Effie’s mouth fell open and she backed away from him. “What!” Effie could not believe her ears. Did this great big Highlander really think that she would fall at his feet and become his bride just because he brought her back here?
“It would be a marriage in name only – that is until you wanted more. I will need a wife soon and I like you. I admire your spirit and I want to see you safe.”
“So you would marry a stranger, endanger your clan just to keep me safe?” As Effie looked at him, she knew he meant it and part of her wanted to say yes. Part of her knew that this big, brave man would never hurt her and would always keep her safe.
“Aye lass I would, but we have to be quick if this is to work. So, lassie, will ye marry me?” Lachlan dropped to one knee and took her hand.
Effie felt her small hand in his big one and she looked down into blue eyes. A surge of emotion went through her and she wanted to leap into his arms, wanted him to hold her tight and tell her she was safe. There was something about him that made her stomach flutter and caused her breath to shorten. Was she really going to do this? “Yes,” she said before she had realized what she was doing.
