A Rake at the Highland Court: The Highland Ladies Book Four

by Barclay, Celeste

  “Cairrie, we can’t stay here any longer. People will wonder where we’ve gone. If I disgrace you, your father will murder me before he betroths me to you.”

  “You’re willing to go through with this? What changed your mind?”

  “I ken you wouldn’t send for me on a whim. You had to be even more desperate than before, and I feared you might run away like Allyson did. She evaded us from Stirling to Glasgow to Liddesdale, but English reivers kidnapped her. Suffice it to say, where she ended up could have been the death of her. She was nearly tortured and raped, and three men were prepared to kill her had Ewan not been there in time. I feared an even worse fate for you if you escaped into the Highlands. There are fewer villages, and the people are more suspicious of strangers. The thought that you might come to harm was more than I could bear.”

  Cairstine pressed a soft kiss to Eoin’s cheek. “But what aboot what people will say? Aren’t you still worried that this charade will ruin your chances to marry?”

  “Everything blows over with time. I should have remembered that and agreed to help you sooner. I could have saved us time and your suffering.”

  “I didn’t suffer, Eo. I may not have enjoyed the abbot’s or Domnall’s intentions, but I didn’t suffer. The time at the priory was a welcome reprieve after time at court, and the journey here meant I spent more time getting to know you. I value our—friendship.” Cairstine wasn’t certain how to describe their relationship. Friendship sounded lame to her ears, but their romance would be short lived.

  “As do I, so that’s why I didn’t hesitate.”

  They sat in silence, both knowing that more than friendship laid between them, but neither willing to admit it. When they both accepted that they could no longer hide away, they slipped from the storage building. It was later than either of them realized, so they both had to hurry to their chambers to prepare for the evening meal.

  * * *

  “Eoin, what’s it like being a twin?” Fenella asked just as Eoin took a bite of duck. He grinned as he hurried to chew and swallow.

  “I’ve never been aught but a twin, so I’m not sure how to compare it. I’ve had a best friend since the moment I entered the world. We’ve done everything together,” Eoin shifted in his seat, wanting to kick himself since he was certain Cairstine was familiar with the story of the day Allyson and Ewan learned of their betrothal. Allyson stumbled upon the twins exiting Lady Bevan’s chamber at Stirling Castle, tucking their leines back into their leggings. His eyes darted to Cairstine, her face a mix of amusement and annoyance. “We usually know what the other is thinking without having to say aught, which has kept us alive during every battle we’ve fought. I suppose we’re like one another’s conscience, saying what the other doesn’t always want to hear but needs to think aboot. It’s made us inseparable for most of our lives.”

  “Most?” Fenella pressed.

  “Aye. Ewan is married now, so interests and priorities differ a tad.”

  “Once you marry Cair, they won’t. They’ll be back to being the same.” Everyone at the table froze, and Fenella appeared confused for a moment before she clapped a hand over her mouth.

  “I’ve seen Eoin and Ewan together, and they are two peas in a pod. They’re so similar that most people can’t tell them apart,” Cairstine intervened.

  “But you can,” Edward interrupted. Cairstine refused to appear guilty, as though she’d done something wrong to learn how to distinguish them.

  “Aye. Eoin has a scar above his left eyebrow that Ewan doesn’t, and Ewan has a scar on the left side of his lip. Eoin can be a bit more reserved than Ewan, but they share a wicked sense of humor.” Cairstine shrugged. “They are identical in pretty much every way, but I can just tell.”

  Eoin smiled, having heard Allyson say the same thing many times. His sister-by-marriage never confused the twins, always recognizing her husband despite the similarities in the twin’s speech, walk, and stance. Allyson was better at telling the brothers apart than his mother or father ever had been. Ewan and Eoin had fooled their parents countless times, but Allyson always knew. They’d tested her when Eoin pretended to be Ewan and returned from the lists with a minor gash to his arm. Ewan had paid the consequences for their jest.

  Eoin watched Edward as Cairstine spoke, and he wondered if the man ever ceased scowling. He suspected that Edward’s disdain was specific to him, since he knew Eoin had aided Cairstine’s attempt to join the religious order rather than remain at court and look for a husband. The conversation came to an abrupt end when a guard burst into the Great Hall and ran toward the dais, arriving out of breath.

  “There’s a fire in one of the outlying villages. Half of it has gone up in flames.” The man announced.

  “Raid?” Edward demanded as he rose from his seat.

  “Nay,” the guard reassured his laird. “Poor thatching on a croft caught fire from embers going through the smoke hole. Once it caught, the fire jumped from one roof to another.”

  Eoin and the other warriors sitting at the laird’s table rose, as a one making for the floor. Some took the steps, while others like Eoin jumped. He looked back to see Davina, Cairstine, and Fenella talking before hurrying toward the stairs. Cairstine skirted around the table and made to jump, but Eoin’s arms darted out, his hands wrapping around her waist as he eased her to the ground. She dashed away with a muttered “thank you.” Eoin watched her run to the kitchens, but he returned his focus to the men and followed them into the bailey. He recognized Bram as one of the men leading saddled horses from the stables. His own horse was among the ones already waiting. He ran his hand over Gun Eagal’s nose, calming the animal as his mount sensed the nervous energy. He checked the saddle and bridle and was about to mount when he recognized Twinkle also stood waiting. He scanned the bailey for Cairstine, spotting her hurrying with her mother and sister. Each woman struggled to carry enormous baskets he saw stuffed with food and blankets. Eoin dashed to them, lifting the baskets out of their arms. Cairstine had pulled her hair back in a tight braid, and her arisaid was pulled up to protect her from the night’s chilly breeze. He handed off baskets to Bram and Edward, who helped Davina and Fenella secure them to the pack horses as he helped Cairstine secure hers before lifting her into her saddle.

  “Stay beside me, Cairrie. Don’t go where I can’t see you. If you do, then I can’t reach you. Understand?”

  “Aye,” Cairstine agreed without argument as Eoin vaulted into the saddle and whirled his horse around. The laird and his family, Eoin, and a dozen warriors charged out of the gates.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It took them the better part of an hour to reach the village, the plumes of smoke visible from miles away. The scene that met them made Cairstine want to retch. The acrid smell of smoke and burned flesh hung heavily in the air as villagers worked to fill buckets and pass them along lines to extinguish the fire. But it seemed as soon as they controlled one fire another two popped up in its place, some buildings reigniting. Eoin glanced at Cairstine, a reminder in his eyes as she nodded. He joined a line of men who stood between the well and a burning croft, passing buckets until the men at the front of the line tossed the water onto the fire.

  Cairstine looked around at the devastation, trying to decide where to go first. She noticed a group of children huddled together close to the well. “Eoin!” She called over the noise and pointed towards the children when he heard her.

  He nodded, and she pulled blankets from her basket, rushing to wrap them around those shivering. She ran back to the basket and pulled out a waterskin she hurried to share with them. She glanced around the disastrous scene, spotting more people who needed water and blankets. She distributed all that she had, helping her mother and sister as they dressed wounds and offered comfort to those who were inconsolable. Throughout her efforts, she kept an eye on Eoin, ensuring she could see him, knowing he could see her. She’d refilled waterskins and handed them out to the men as they worked, taking each man’s place in the line, so he co
uld drink without causing a break in the chain.

  Eoin’s forehead dripped with sweat, the salty water trickling into his eyes and making them burn. He ran his sleeve over his face countless times, but he knew it merely smeared the sweat and grime. He’d been grateful each time Cairstine offered him a chance for a drink, proud of how she stepped in to keep the buckets moving whenever a man had a moment’s reprieve. He was sure she would be in pain the next day, her body unused to the physical strain it was under. While he was overheated, the activity wasn’t unusual to him. He might be sore in the morning, but he knew it would be nothing compared to what Cairstine faced. Eoin tried to convince her to take a break, but the withering glare she cast him made him bite his tongue. He rolled his neck, waiting for the next bucket to pass through his hands. He’d taken his eyes off Cairstine when the man beside him almost dropped the full bucket, and when he looked up, he couldn’t find Cairstine. He scanned the area in front of him before twisting around. Eoin was certain his heart stopped when he spotted her. He bolted from the line.

  Cairstine heard the muffled cries, but she struggled to discern where they came from over the roar of the fire and the myriad voices. She turned in a circle until she was certain of their direction. Horror filled her as she made out the outline of two children standing within a fiery croft. There was smoke pouring out of the doors and windows, and the thatching was ablaze. She could tell the fire trapped children, and they were too terrified to find a way out. She ran toward the home, snatching three blankets she found lying on the ground.

  “I'm coming,” she called as she ran around the side of the croft, trying to find the best way in. She knew she would do them no good if she injured herself. There seemed no way to enter the building without running through the flames. A stream ran behind the croft where she could see men filling buckets, the well too crowded. She didn’t think twice before jumping in, drenching herself and the wool blankets she held. She ducked under the surface, ensuring she’d soaked her arisaid along with her skirts. She clamored up the bank and ran toward the door of the burning croft.

  Cairstine used one of the sodden blankets to beat back the flames as she darted inside. She thought she heard someone call her name, but she didn’t dare wait another moment. She slapped at the flames that threatened to swallow her as she picked her way to the children.

  “I’m Cairrie,” she coughed as she tried to call out to them, choosing her nickname in the hopes that it would sound reassuring to the children. An overhead beam groaned and shifted, causing a little girl to scream. The structure’s movement wafted smoke into Cairstine’s face, making it nearly impossible to see where she was going. She couldn’t walk a straight path to the children, having to weave around flames. She prayed she still pointed in the right direction. She pulled her arisaid over her mouth and nose, the moisture a welcome relief to her irritated nose and throat. She reached the children, her heart sinking as she realized there were more than she’d seen through the window. A girl of about ten held a babe, while four more children no more than five or six-years-old stood huddled around their sister. Cairstine could never carry them all, nor would she be able to guide such a lengthy line through the flames. She looked at the babe, knowing it was most urgent that she get the youngest one out first. The babe wasn’t crying, and that worried Cairstine most. She threw a blanket around the older girl, wrapping her arms and babe. “Follow me,” she told the girl before turning to the other children. “Crouch as low to the ground as you can. I’m coming back for you.”

  Cairstine didn’t hesitate, grabbing the older girl’s arm with one hand while beating back flames with the other. It felt like an eternity before she found the door, pushing the girl into the fresh air. She turned back toward the children, but Eoin’s bellow made her pause.

  “Cairrie! Nay!” Eoin ran through the doorway, flames nipping at him. “Get out. It’s aboot to crumble.”

  “Can’t,” Cairstine coughed. She pointed toward the other children. “More weans.”

  “I’ll get them. Go, you’ve breathed too much smoke already.”

  “Nay. Too many for just you.”

  “Cairrie,” Eoin reached for her as she skirted around him, disappearing into the smoke. He followed where he believed she led. He feared they would find no one left alive as it felt like forever before he heard Cairrie.

  “I’m almost there,” she rasped. “Stay down.”

  Eoin followed her voice, breaking through the smoke and flames to find Cairstine wrapping a boy in a blanket then lifting a girl who was barely a toddler into her arms. Eoin looked at the other two who were bigger than the boy and girl Cairstine helped.

  “Give me the last blanket,” Eoin gasped. He turned to the bigger of the two near him, a girl with an ash-caked face, and pointed to his back as he squatted down. “Get on my back.”

  Once the girl climbed on, Eoin flung the blanket over his back and the child before lifting a young boy into his arms. “We have to go, Carrie,” Eoin’s order came as a beam crashed down from the ceiling, blocking their way out. Cairrie turned fearful eyes on Eoin, and he knew his mirrored hers. “The window.”

  Eoin led them to the nearest window, but it was on fire. He lowered the children, using the blanket to slap away the flames enough that he could wrap the blanket around the little boy he’d carried in his arms. He thrust the child through the window, holding onto the blanket as the child landed on the ground. He wrapped the girl who’d been on his back in it and thrust her through the window next. Once he had the last child through the window, he kicked at the frame, making a hole wide enough to pass Cairstine through, but still too small for him. He could feel no more wood and sod would give, so he wouldn’t be able to leave that way. His broad shoulders would get stuck if he tried. He’d die half hanging out of the croft.

  “Cairrie, I’ll pass you through. Hurry.” Eoin pulled Cairstine’s arisaid back over her head, having slipped down her hair.

  “You won’t fit,” Cairrie grasped his upper arms but pushed away. “I’m not leaving you.”

  “Yes, you are. There isn’t time to argue. Go. I’ll make it out.”

  Cairrie shook her head, but he gave her little choice when he lifted her and hoisted her through the window. Eoin heard her scream as another beam crashed just beyond his left shoulder, the embers catching on his leine. He pulled the extra length of plaid over his shoulders and head just as he would to shield him from rain or snow. He spun around, searching for a way to the door. The extra air that the larger window allowed in shifted the flames, making it harder for him to move toward the door. He leaped over larger flames, the hair on his legs scorched, while stomping on smaller ones as he inched his way forward. He was nearly to the door and could see Cairstine outside when the frame went up in flames and the surrounding walls exploded. He covered his face and took a running leap, praying he could pass through the flames rather than run into them like a blockade. The heat engulfed him for a heartbeat, then he felt the cool night air. He dropped to the ground, rolling to smother the flames that caught his plaid.

  “Eoin!” Cairstine screamed just before he felt a blanket snap across his back. It landed several more times before nothing around him moved. He sat up only to be knocked over when Cairstine launched herself into his arms. He pulled her against him, finding her mouth as they reassured one another that they both emerged alive and unharmed. He ran his hands over her, reassuring him that he’d gotten her out unscathed. Her hands cupped his face as she smattered kisses over his forehead, cheeks, nose, and finally back to his lips. When they both coughed from too much smoke remaining in their lungs, they pulled apart.

  “If I wasn’t so bluidy relieved you’re alive, I’d take you to task for doing something so dangerous. My God, Cairrie, you could have died in there.”

  “I thought you were aboot to.” Cairrie stood looking at him, then suddenly burst into tears. Eoin held her as she sobbed, neither confessing the depth of their feelings. Neither willing to admit the fear of losing
one another that threatened to suffocate them. Cairstine remembered the children and pulled away. She wiped her face as she searched for them.

  “I saw an aulder woman come for them. She shooed them away. Did you see anyone else in there?” Eoin asked.

  “Nay. I don’t know if their parents weren’t there or if they perished, but I saw no one else.” Cairstine buried her face against Eoin’s chest as another wave of sadness consumed her as she thought about the probability that the children were now orphans. They took a last look at the croft that no longer existed, save for the roaring fire, before Eoin led Carrie to the stream. He helped her into the water where they both washed the soot from their faces and necks, taking deep gulps of water as the slow current eddied around their legs and cooled them after the scorching heat.

  When Eoin was certain Cairstine had drunk enough, he guided her back into the village center. It was just past dawn, and they’d mostly contained the fires. Bodies, both living and dead, were strewn upon the ground. People sat and lay wheezing while others appeared to have dropped into an exhausted sleep. Eoin and Cairstine spotted Edward yelling at Bram, even though they couldn’t yet hear his words. Edward pointed a finger at Bram, who shook his head. When Edward lunged for Bram, Cairstine sprinted toward the men, guessing the source of anger.

  “Father, I’m well. I’m right here,” Cairstine called as she ran towards the two men, Eoin close on her heels. “Father! Bram!”