Highlander Besieged

by Vonda Sinclair

  She'd never had any pleasant excitement or romance in her life. 'Twas all duty and doing what she had to in order to survive. She was not sure how she felt about this sort of restlessness, especially the disconcerting feelings she felt when she was near Cyrus. She hoped they would diminish on the morrow... and, of course, that no one had seen Cyrus entering or leaving her chamber. If they had, she would surely be accused of scandalous behavior once again.

  THE NEXT MORN, ELSPETH woke abruptly and sat bolt upright in bed. She glanced around the chamber, then stared at the elaborately carved door. Had someone knocked? Not Fraser again, she prayed.

  With daylight, she was struck once again at this castle's opulence. She felt fortunate to be a guest here. Even her former protector, the Earl of Dalacroy, had never invited her to his largest castle, the family seat in the Scottish Lowlands. Nay, that had been reserved for his wife.

  A loud knock sounded, echoing through the room. Where was Bernice, her lady's maid?

  "One moment!" Elspeth called out, then jumped from the high, four-poster mahogany bed and quickly put on her wrap. Barefoot, she raced across the soft carpets and the cool wooden floor. At the door, she grasped the ornate brass knob and pulled to open the door a crack. A young maid of the Rebbinglen household staff waited there.

  "Aye?"

  The maid bobbed a curtsy. "Pray pardon for waking you, m'lady. This missive just arrived for you. 'Tis marked as urgent. The housekeeper bid me to deliver it to you forthwith."

  Perplexed as to who would send her an urgent missive, Elspeth took the folded paper. "I thank you."

  The maid curtsied again, then backed away as Elspeth closed the door.

  The red wax was stamped with her steward's seal. "What could he want?" She broke the seal, unfolded the thick ivory paper and began reading.

  My lady, I have the most tragic news. I hope you are sitting down. The manor house was broken into during the night and your jewelry was stolen along with most of the silver. Stillman was injured. I have sent for the magistrate. Signed, your faithful servant, Morrison.

  A chill coursed along Elspeth's nerves. "What? How could this happen?" Who would do such a thing? She hoped Stillman was not hurt badly.

  Where had the rest of her guards been?

  She had to rush home immediately. Unable to think, she ran across the room, dug into her trunks and tossed clothing onto the bed, trying to find something quick and easy to put on.

  The door opened and closed back. "What is happening, m'lady?"

  She turned to find Bernice in her dark servant's attire and white cap over wispy brown hair hurrying toward her. "I'm glad you're here. Help me dress. I must return home. Someone has broken into Darby Hall. Stillman was hurt and my valuables stolen."

  "Oh, good heavens!" Bernice bounced into action and helped her with the corset.

  "Quickly. I don't have time to take my things. I wish you to remain here and pack. I'll send the coach back for you and my belongings in a couple of days."

  With jerky movements, Bernice tied her petticoats. "As you wish, m'lady."

  "And please, don't tell the others where I've gone or why. I don't want to disrupt the earl and countess's gathering." Elspeth had only just met Rebbie and Calla, after all. They wouldn't want to get involved in her predicament.

  "But what about Lady Kerrimuir?" Bernice fumbled over the bodice buttons.

  "Tell her... I went home because there's a problem with my shop."

  "Very well."

  Elspeth hated to lie, but she didn't want to disrupt everyone's lives. Rose, in particular, would be annoyed that she hadn't told her what was going on. But Elspeth was an independent woman, capable of taking care of things on her own. She would call in the local healer, Mistress Almsly, for her guard, if Morrison hadn't already. Elspeth would then figure out who had broken in and work on reclaiming her jewelry.

  Her clothing in place, she told Bernice, "Have Vance prepare the team and coach, then tell Jenkins I need him to guard. I must leave forthwith."

  "Aye, m'lady." Her maid rushed from the room.

  Elspeth gathered the things she would need, threw on her blue woolen cloak and pulled the cowl over her head. After closing the door softly behind her, she slipped down the corridor, not wishing to wake the late-sleeping aristocrats. As she crept along, she realized she did not fit in such an elegant castle, mixing with the wealthiest nobles in Scotland, like Rebbinglen and his father. To the marquess, she was probably little more than a servant. Although the MacKenzie brothers had been friendly and accepting of her... mayhap too friendly, considering Fraser's attempted advances. She regretted she would not get to say goodbye to them, but 'haps 'twas for the best.

  Slipping through the great hall with its many gleaming wood tables and lush, colorful tapestries, she met Bernice.

  "The coach is being prepared, m'lady."

  "Good. Remember what I told you about what to tell Lady Kerrimuir. And I will either return in a few days or send the coach for you and my belongings.

  The maid curtsied. "As you wish, m'lady. And please have a care."

  "Indeed." Elspeth opened the front door and dashed out into the bailey. Clouds gathered thickly in the overcast sky. She hoped it would not rain before she reached home.

  She arrived at the coach where Vance worked diligently on the horses. "Please hurry, Vance. Someone has broken into Darby Hall and Stillman was injured."

  "Aye, m'lady." Vance bowed, then raised his bushy silver brows. "'Twill only be a few more minutes."

  Her guard, Jenkins, a tall stout man wearing leather armor, greeted her and opened the coach door. After climbing in, she sat on the leather bench seat.

  She was grateful her son had not been home during the break-in. No doubt even at ten summers, Adam would've tried to fight off the intruders. He was such a wee man.

  Though she missed him terribly, she was glad he was away, safe at boarding school. 'Haps she would travel to St. Andrews very soon for a visit. She was so proud of him and his accomplishments.

  Though Greymont was a small, modest castle and estate as compared to the illustrious Castle Rebbinglen, she was satisfied with what her son would have when he came of age.

  The pressing question now was who could've broken into her manor house? A random stranger or a highwayman?

  She didn't generally wear expensive jewelry, except on special occasions like this gathering, but it was the same as money to her. If, God forbid, she or her son ever ran low on funds, she could sell some of the jewels. But now, part of her safety and security was gone. Had the thieves found and stolen everything she'd left there? How on earth had they gotten past all the guards and over the walls? She would get to the bottom of it even if she had to hire an investigator.

  Vance opened the coach door and poked his grizzled head inside. "We're ready to depart now, m'lady."

  "Very good. Please drive as fast as you safely can. I must get home immediately."

  "As you wish." He quickly bowed and closed the door.

  The coach swayed as he climbed aboard to sit beside Jenkins and set the horses into motion. They rolled forward, the wheels clattering roughly over the cobblestones, and out through the already raised portcullis. The conveyance splashed through puddles as it picked up speed, rocking back and forth. She remembered hearing the rain during the night and was thankful it had stopped some time ago.

  Vance's voice echoed as he shouted commands to the horses.

  The speed of the carriage continued to increase at an alarming pace.

  "Good lord!" Elspeth had wanted him to rush, but this was overdoing it. Staring horrified out the window, she grabbed onto the leather strap as the coach careened around a curve. A loud crack echoed and the coach hurtled onto its side.

  She screamed as she was flung off her seat and toward the roof.

  HAVING NO LUCK IN THEIR hunt for mountain hare and grouse, Cyrus and his brothers, along with Rebbie, Dirk, and their guards, halted their horses at the crest of the hill. Wheels rollin
g over cobblestones in the distance reached his ears upon the swift wind. He stared downward, toward Castle Rebbinglen.

  Two horses and a small coach sped away from the castle.

  Cyrus frowned. "Who is that and why the devil are they in such a hurry?"

  "'Tis Lady Grey's coach," Rebbie said. "I wonder if she received some bad news."

  "The driver is traveling dangerously fast!" Dirk said.

  When the horses took the curve at too brisk a pace, the coach toppled over with a great crash. The driver and another man sailed through the air.

  "'Slud!" Struck with a sudden cold flash of alarm for Elspeth, if she was indeed inside, Cyrus kicked Goliath into a gallop down the hill. The other men followed, the horses' hooves pounding behind him.

  The pair of bays reared and tried to drag the overturned coach forward. Had something spooked them, causing them to bolt?

  Reaching the accident, Cyrus leapt off his horse and ran forward, his friends following. Cyrus grabbed one of the spooked horses' bridles while Dirk snagged the other. Rebbie and Dermott hastened toward the driver and the armed guard where they lay sprawled on the wet grass.

  "Hold this horse and keep him calm," Cyrus told Fraser. After handing off the bridle, he ran to the coach, climbed onto the side facing upward and yanked open the door. Elspeth lay motionless on the opposite door.

  Chapter Five

  When Cyrus found Elspeth lying unmoving within the overturned coach, icy fear froze his muscles. "Elspeth?" He dropped inside and knelt beside her, then grasped her slender shoulder through the thick blue cloak. "Elspeth?"

  She squirmed and frowned, opening her eyes.

  Thank the saints she was alive. "Are you hurt badly?"

  "Um... nay." Her voice was too uncertain and breathy for his peace of mind.

  "Let me see your head?" After helping her sit up, he pulled back the cowl.

  "'Tis naught but a bump." She moved a hand toward her injury, but he stopped her.

  "I'll check it." He slipped his fingers beneath her flame-red, unbound curls and detected a small lump on the left side of her head. He pulled his hand back to look at his fingertips. "I don't see any blood. Does that hurt?" He gently touched the knot again.

  She drew away. "'Tis a bit sore."

  "Why was your driver urging the horses at such a mad pace?" Cyrus demanded, annoyed with the man.

  "I told him to hurry, but I didn't expect him to drive the horses so recklessly."

  "You're lucky you weren't killed," he scolded. "Why are you in a rush?"

  "Was Vance injured? Or Jenkins?"

  Irked that she'd ignored his question, Cyrus stood. "We'll check on them. They were thrown clear. Can you stand?"

  "Of course."

  "Is she well?" Fraser called from outside.

  "Aye." Cyrus was certain she would be. Taking her elbow, he helped her up. She swayed and grabbed onto his forearm, giving him another surge of alarm. "You're faint. You may be hurt worse than you realize."

  "I'll be all right." Rubbing her forehead, she pressed her eyes closed for a long moment. When she opened them again, her amber gaze appeared unfocused at first, then sharpened upon his. He felt as if he'd been punched hard in the chest. What the devil was wrong with him? Was it fear for her life because she could've been killed so easily?

  He frowned. "Better?"

  "Aye."

  When she glanced away, he found himself wishing she would look at him again. How daft was that?

  "I'll help you out." Grasping her slim waist, he gently lifted her through the open doorway to sit on the side of the coach facing upward. She was so slight, she barely weighed anything. Strange feelings arose within him. What the devil were they? Protectiveness?

  Why should he feel so protective of her? She wasn't a member of his family or clan.

  When she drew her legs out and dangled them over the edge, Fraser helped her down. "Are you hurt, m'lady?"

  "Nay, merely a few bruises. I'll be all right."

  Cyrus hoisted himself up and leapt out onto the dark mud and grass which had been torn up by the wheels. Still concerned about her well-being, he eyed her closely to make sure she wouldn't swoon.

  "Let's go see if the men are hurt." He tucked her hand around his elbow and led her toward her driver and guard.

  The two stood beside Rebbie and Dermott.

  "Were you injured, Lady Grey?" Rebbie asked.

  "Just a bump on the head." She looked to her servants. "Were either of you injured?"

  "I fear my arm is broken, m'lady." Grimacing, Jenkins cradled his left arm.

  "Oh, good heavens." She rushed toward him. "Are you in great pain?"

  "Aye, it hurts."

  Frowning, she turned to her driver. "Vance, I didn't mean for you to drive so recklessly."

  "'Twas nay that, m'lady." The graying man shook his head. "The horses refused to slow their pace. Something must've spooked 'em."

  She glanced around. "What would've done that?"

  Cyrus scrutinized the tree line a few hundred yards away. "We did see a lone wolf in the distance while out hunting. The horses might have scented it."

  Elspeth's eyes widened. "I had no inkling wolves dwelt in this area."

  "Without doubt 'tis gone now," he reassured her, disliking her fearful expression.

  "We'll have the healer back at the castle set your guard's arm." Rebbie motioned to two of his men. "George, Hogarth, help Jenkins back to the castle, then find Mistress MacGowan and have her see to his broken bone."

  "Aye, m'laird." They helped the grimacing Jenkins mount one of their horses.

  Vance rounded the front of the overturned coach. "M'lady, one of the wheels is shattered and another is cracked. We must take the coach back to the castle and repair it. There could be other damage as well on the left side."

  "Oh, good lord." Elspeth frowned and pressed her fingers to her temples.

  "Why were you in such an all-fired hurry?" Cyrus studied her anxious expression.

  "I must go home forthwith. There was a break-in and one of my guards was injured."

  Cyrus's shoulders tightened with concern for her safety. "Why didn't you say so earlier? How far away do you live?"

  Eyeing him with caution, she pressed her lips together.

  Why was she being so stubborn and secretive? Unwilling to relent, Cyrus crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her. 'Twas a look that he knew frightened most men, but she didn't seem daunted in the least.

  Finally, she yielded. "Close to Aberdeen."

  Cyrus glanced around at the men, knowing he had only one option. "I'll take six guards with me and see that she gets home."

  "You can borrow my larger coach and four if you wish," Rebbie offered. "'Tis two days by coach. One day if riding."

  Elspeth hesitated.

  "'Twill be much faster if we ride." Cyrus noted her uneasiness. "That is, if you can ride."

  Though 'twas fleeting, panic flickered through her eyes. "Of course, I can."

  Rebbie nodded. "We'll get your horses and coach back to the castle."

  "I'll go with you, Cyrus." Fraser strode forward.

  Cyrus eyed his younger brother but detected no scheming look in his eye... though he knew his brother wanted to seduce Elspeth. "Very well."

  Fraser strode away with Rebbie.

  Cyrus turned back to Elspeth, observing her worried expression. Being a leader of men during gruesome and bloody battles, he was well accustomed to fear, both his own and his soldiers'. However, the question of courage came into play when a person decided whether they were strong enough to forge ahead and conquer, despite the fear. 'Twas the first time he'd seen trepidation in her eyes.

  "Do you fear horses?" he asked her.

  "Nay," she blurted, her face still pale.

  Cyrus cocked his head, observing her. "Are you certain?"

  Her gaze darted to him once, then away. "Aye."

  He didn't believe her, but he admired her brave front. He needed to see if she truly co
uld ride before he took the drastic measure of putting her on Goliath behind him. Just imagining her arms wrapped around his waist and her hands on his stomach caused his body to quicken in a fiery and disturbing response.

  Of course, she was a beautiful and desirable woman, but one he could never dally with if he wished to secure the most advantageous marriage possible.

  HER STOMACH KNOTTING, Elspeth watched Cyrus stride purposefully away from her and pause to talk to a skinny kilted man who was about a foot shorter than he was. His clansman appeared none too pleased when Cyrus took the reins of his small gelding. If she had to ride that horse, she prayed he possessed a docile nature.

  She did, in fact, fear horses, for one had tossed her into a ditch when she was learning to ride. Because she'd been born a merchant's daughter, she hadn't learned to ride as a child the way most ladies did. It wasn't until she'd married the baron that she'd been required to ride.

  Fortunately, she had sustained no broken bones from the horse throwing her at sixteen summers, only a few bruises. So, 'twas not so horrible. But she was especially leery of large stallions like the one Cyrus rode.

  Still, she didn't wish him to know of her illogical fear. She would show no weakness before the imperious earl.

  In total, she had ridden a few dozen times, but not in recent years. Surely, she hadn't forgotten how. She could endure anything, even riding a horse for a few hours, if it meant she could get home quickly.

  If she couldn't ride on her own, she well knew what would happen—Cyrus would make her ride with him. She did not want to be in such close proximity to the distracting and domineering man. She had barely slept last night after he'd invaded her room. Touching his hand or arm was all she could tolerate. Something about his magnetic presence affected her in profound ways. But, never again did she want to be at a nobleman's mercy.

  She glanced down at her own clothing, realizing 'twas not a riding habit she wore. Likely, this gown, one of her favorites, would be ruined or torn by the time she arrived home. If so, mayhap she could have it repaired and cleaned. More importantly, she had to get home and resolve all the problems.