Stealing the Highland Bride

by Kenna Kendrick

* * *

  Murdoch was used to getting his own way, even as a child. At the age of 11, he had fought a sword contest with a nobleman’s son over a horse they had both desired. In the fight, Murdoch’s right ear had been cut off, deforming him and ensuring that any woman stayed away from him, but the other boy had fared far worse. Murdoch Mackintosh always got what he wanted.

  Rhona Cameron was not afraid of the Mackintoshes; she had grown up surrounded by men going off to war, and she had watched her husband as he prepared for battle time and again.

  * * *

  Tales had long been told of the Mackintoshes, and of the history of the conflict between the two clans. It had begun many years ago, many generations back, but old rivalries die hard, and the two clans were sworn enemies. Rhona had never met a Mackintosh, though she had been taught to hate them from an early age. Now she hated them more than ever: they had killed her beloved Iain.

  * * *

  She was no stranger to the sword and could wield a bow and arrow as well as any man. She would mourn her husband in her own way, the tears she felt for him now withheld, mindful of the example she must set to the rest of the clan. She was a dutiful lassie and would show these fiends that she would not be cowed.

  * * *

  She was glad to have Cairstine and Duncan next to her, he the spitting image of his brother, dark-haired and tall, though still with a look of youth about him which her husband had lost. Despite the scar across his cheek, Duncan Cameron was a fine figure of a man. His gentle kindness masked inner bravery, and she knew instinctively he would defend her to the last. As the sound of horses came nearer, she drew herself up ready, her hand slipping into Duncan’s.

  * * *

  “It’ll be alright, lassie, dinna fear Iain’s spirit is within us.”

  * * *

  “Mackintosh banners approaching,” the shout came from the ramparts, and the gathered assembly shifted nervously in the courtyard.

  * * *

  “Draw naw swords,” Duncan Cameron commanded, “I shall not see another Cameron slain by this treacherous excuse for a man.”

  * * *

  A cool wind was blowing across the castle ramparts, the sun hid behind a cloud as the Mackintosh troops crossed the wooden bridge over the river and entered through the gates. Murdoch Mackintosh, flanked by his best men, came to a halt in front of the gathered Cameron clan.

  * * *

  Around a hundred Mackintosh men stood in the courtyard of the castle, their swords drawn menacingly as they faced the weary band of Camerons standing protectively around Duncan and Rhona.

  * * *

  Cairstine stood close to Rhona. She did not have her mistress’s courage and was afraid, but as long as they were together, she knew all would be well. The two women stood defiantly as Duncan Cameron stepped forward to face his opponent.

  * * *

  “And what is it ye want Murdoch Mackintosh, is it not enough that ye have killed our Laird in treachery and cold blood, now ye come here, and for what? Leave us in peace, and ye shall have no further cause for trouble.”

  * * *

  Murdoch Mackintosh laughed, his men following suit as they proceeded to take the swords from the little group of clansmen, outnumbered and out-armed.

  * * *

  Stewart Mackintosh surveyed the scene. He had not expected such a pitiable response from the Camerons: they were reduced to a band of youths and old men, a few women too. He recognized the Laird’s wife at once. Stewart could not take his eyes off Rhona; she was as beautiful as her reputation had reported, and even in her sorrow, she was radiant. Stewart Mackintosh was instantly captivated. She stood proudly and defiantly, no hint of emotion on her face as she stood before his brother; her husband’s killer. Stewart thought back to the fight; Iain Cameron had fought bravely, far more so than Murdoch.

  * * *

  “Duncan Cameron ye are more talkative than your brother, and I assure ye, he did not die in cold blood but in the fairness of war, and as for my arrival here, what else did ye think I should do but come to claim my prize? I should not stand idly by and allow the Camerons to rebuild and regroup only tae attack our lands and pillage our people as ye have done this many a long year.”

  * * *

  The two men faced each other defiantly: Rhona and Cairstine looked on as the intentions of Murdoch Mackintosh became all too clear.

  * * *

  “This castle and all its lands are now the rightful property of the Mackintosh clan, there is naw place for dispute and naw dissension shall be tolerated. Let it be known that I am Laird here now and shall rule over ye and your peoples in my father’s name. Ye shall be allowed to go about your business so long as naw treachery or plot be uncovered. Let me assure ye, Duncan Cameron, that if I find any amongst ye who shall seek our ruin, then it is ye who shall answer for your people by the sword, do ye understand this?”

  * * *

  Duncan Cameron looked on in disgust at the man who had killed his brother. Neither man had met before but had heard of the other. Murdoch’s reputation as a sly and cowardly wretch was confirmed, and Duncan could not take his eyes from the place where Murdoch’s right ear should have been, the deformity giving him a look of evil.

  * * *

  “I am not an unreasonable man, Duncan Cameron.” Murdoch dismounted his horse and approached the Laird’s brother. “Tae prove it I have not killed the captives from your clan those that survived I have brought back here.”

  * * *

  From the castle, gate limped several of the Cameron men, two bearing stretchers. The sight caused Cairstine to let out a cry and run forward, her husband Alistair was laid on the first of the stretchers, his legs bandaged and a wound to his head. Kneeling at his side, she clutched his hand to hers, sobbing with relief at the return of her husband, all too aware that her mistress looked on, a widow.

  * * *

  “What say ye then Duncan Cameron, do ye accept the terms or am I tae clap ye in irons and have ye sent away in tae exile? Accept the defeat of your clan. After all these years of conflict, surely ye would rather live in peace?”

  * * *

  “In peace, a slave?” Duncan demanded. “Ye come here and dictate your terms tae me as though I were a common servant or one of your lackeys, but it seems I have no choice. Know this though, Murdoch, ye shall treat these people right, or I should willingly die in their defense and take ye with me.”

  * * *

  Murdoch smirked and laughed, his men laughing with him.

  * * *

  “My dear Duncan, I do not think ye have any choice, and as for threatening me, if your swordsmanship is anything like that of your brothers, then ye shall stand no chance.”

  * * *

  The Mackintosh men laughed, goading their captives. Stewart watched on in silence as his brother played the part of conqueror and lord.

  * * *

  Duncan Cameron made to draw his sword, but Rhona stepped forward and caught his arm just as the blade emerged from its sheath.

  * * *

  “Naw, Duncan, remember what ye said, no more blood is tae be spilled for this pitiful man’s sake.”

  * * *

  “Ah, and this must be the fair lassie of the Cameron Glen,” Murdoch Mackintosh licked his lips as he dismounted stepping forward, bowing low to Rhona. She stood defiantly before him, unafraid to face the man who had killed her husband.

  * * *

  “Your reputation is known across moor and heather, and I must say it is well deserved, for even with bairn ye are a beauty to behold.”

  * * *

  “Beauty that ye could not hope tae emulate by word or deed, Murdoch Mackintosh, for your reputation too precedes ye, and it is not favorable to ye,” Rhona refused Murdoch’s obeisance, standing defiantly next to Duncan as she faced down her husband’s murderer.

  * * *

  Determined not to show emotion to this man, she held back her grief for beneath a veneer of defiance. She would not give him the satisfaction of
seeing her tears, they could wait for the night when she would mourn her husband’s loss alone.

  * * *

  Murdoch Mackintosh laughed.

  * * *

  “Ye can insult me all ye wish, both of ye, but it is I who now hold power here, and ye will not play the lady of the castle anymore.” With that, he spat on the ground. “The both of ye, and the rest of these pitiful Camerons shall be held as prisoners. Duncan Cameron, ye and the rest of this pitiful band shall be allowed to roam the castle, but that shall be your limits. Ye shall have no weaponry, and ye shall be under the jurisdiction of my men. Any attempt at escape or treachery shall be punished. Severely. Am I understood?”

  * * *

  “Ye have made yourself well understood Murdoch Mackintosh,” Duncan Cameron looked defiantly at his captor. “But as God is my witness, time shall be your downfall.”

  * * *

  Murdoch laughed even more as the clouds covered the sun as evening began to fall.

  * * *

  “See to it brother, ensure these pitiable people are treated as well as they deserve.”

  * * *

  Murdoch made his way into the castle as Stewart began giving orders to the men, watching Rhona as she stood in the courtyard.

  * * *

  “Ye will go inside now,” he spoke as softly as he could, but Rhona and Cairstine looked at him with disdain; another Mackintosh to order them about. “If ye would please,” he continued, extending his arm towards the keep.

  * * *

  “See that, Cairstine, they give us threats, and then offer us a kind word,” Rhona scoffed at the young Mackintosh before, turning away in disgust.

  * * *

  Stewart sighed. How he disliked this task. On the battlefield, he would gladly fight for a just cause, and he was no stranger to violence. But here in the castle, now that victory had been won, his heart was heavy as he continued to give the orders and his brother’s bidding.

  * * *

  It did not take long for the Mackintoshes to secure the castle and its environs. A few of the peasants resisted, but swords speak louder than words. They were soon convinced that it did not matter to whom they paid their tithes, as long as they received protection from the marauding raiders and English threat.

  * * *

  The Camerons had long watched over the glen with chivalry and fairness, now found themselves at the mercy of their Mackintosh oppressors, captive in their own castle.

  * * *

  The prisoners brought back from the battle were in a poor state, and the life of the husband of Cairstine Cameron hung in the balance. Rhona and Cairstine watched anxiously as he was borne into the castle keep, his wounds looking beyond the skill of healers.

  * * *

  “I should not bear it if he died,” Cairstine said tearfully, “I dinna have your strength my lady Rhona, I am sorry tae speak these words just as we hear of Iain’s death, but tae lose them both would be an agony I could not endure.”

  * * *

  “Alistair will live,” Rhona was defiant, “he shall live tae see the day thee Mackintoshes are banished from this place.”

  * * *

  The two women followed the clansmen into the keep. It was a sorry sight, the mighty and noble Cameron men reduced to prisoners.

  * * *

  “Ye shall be billeted here in the great hall for now,” Murdoch Mackintosh barked his orders to Duncan Cameron, “that way we shall keep an eye on ye, and there shall be no treachery upon your parts, but first I want to speak with Rhona alone.”

  * * *

  “Whatever ye have tae say to her can be said before me, I am responsible for her now.”

  * * *

  “Responsibility for her will not be yours for long Duncan Cameron” and turning Murdoch shouted across the great hall to where Rhona and Cairstine were tending to Alistair.

  * * *

  “Rhona Cameron ye shall speak with me alone, immediately.”

  * * *

  A silence fell across the hall as Rhona stood defiantly facing Murdoch, a look of pure hatred on her face. Stewart Murdoch watched his brother, unsure of what would transpire.

  * * *

  “What ye have tae say ye will say before my people or the murderer of my husband has naw rights over me, I should rather die with him than be subject to ye.”

  * * *

  “We shall see,” Murdoch paused, a flicker of a smile playing across his face, “we shall see indeed.”

  * * *

  “If ye do not wish to discuss these matters in private, then so be it. The clansmen know of your fate, which, given the circumstances, is entirely fair and just. Ye, Rhona Cameron, have no choice in the matter and, as will become clear, your co-operation in the matter will ensure that these pitiful excuses for men and women are spared.”

  * * *

  “It is I who has responsibility for this clan,” Duncan Cameron cleared his throat, “I who shall pay the price for these people.”

  * * *

  “My dear Duncan, if ye will pray hold your tongue, then ye shall soon realize that ye cannot be party to this matter, for it is not that which ye could grant nor I should wish.” Murdoch laughed as his men pushed Duncan Cameron aside. “There is a very simple way in which we shall resolve our disputes and ensure that the Camerons are treated fairly in the future, let all who are here be witness to it. Rhona Cameron, ye shall become my wife.”

  * * *

  The statement caused an outcry amongst the assembled Camerons. Stewart could not believe what his brother had just said; how could he possibly force the lassie to marry him? He knew his brother to be a cruel man, but this was an extraordinary turn of events and one which neither men had discussed. He was about to speak up when Rhona spoke.

  * * *

  She faced Murdoch, his sneering face the very antithesis of her beloved Iain whose memory now gave her strength.

  * * *

  “Marry ye? I should rather marry a dog than a wretch like ye, the murderous, deformed half-wit of the Mackintoshes, sent here to do your father’s dirty work. Tae marry another is for love, not some political deal, I refuse ye with all my strength, Murdoch Mackintosh,” Rhona turned her back upon Murdoch, who did not like being insulted before his men.

  * * *

  “It was not a request, Rhona Cameron. I am not kneeling before ye, a lover in desire with the ring in hand. Ye will marry me because if ye do not, it shall be far worse for all your kinfolk, far, far worse, but ye have the chance to save them Rhona, and all it takes is your hand in marriage. I will be arranging everything in the coming weeks. A priest shall be summoned from the Abbey at Glen Coraig, and the castle shall be made ready to welcome our guests. Think on it a little while and see if perhaps ye might come tae realize that there is a hard road or a gentle road tae this resolution, far better for ye tae take the gentle road for both arrive at the same place.”

  * * *

  And with that, he turned and marched from the great hall, leaving the gathered Camerons standing in disbelief. Rhona remained defiant, cursing the name of Mackintosh.

  * * *

  “Wretch,” Duncan spat the word from his mouth, “accursed wretch, this cannot be allowed to happen, I shall not allow it to happen.”

  * * *

  “Fear not, Duncan so long as he desires this, we have some power over him. He will not harm us while he waits, and it will be some time before the priest can come to assist him in his scheming ways.”

  * * *

  “But my lady, ye cannot possibly assent to this,” Cairstine feared for her mistress’ safety.

  * * *

  “No dear friend, I do not, and I shall not allow him to destroy all that Iain did here. This clan shall live on, and this bairn will be its hope. He may force my hand all he wishes, but if it is love he is seeking, then he shall find no love from me.”

  * * *

  At that moment Stewart approached, stepping forward nervously.

  * * *

  �
��What is it that ye want?” Duncan Cameron eyed the Mackintosh with contempt.

  * * *

  Murdoch’s younger brother was as much the opposite as any brother could be. He possessed a look of innocent youth, his blonde hair and green eyes in sharp contrast to Murdoch’s murderous face. If the two were not known as brothers, it would be inconceivable to think they were. Stewart Mackintosh blushed.