Highland Destiny

by Hunsaker, Laura

  After the servant left, Mackenzie tied the dagger to her arm under her sleeve, and mentally prepared herself for the day.

  Nothing worked though, so she finally got proactive.

  Mackenzie tried to find the lever to release the door to the secret passage. If she did nothing else right, she wanted to sneak some food to the poor child in the dungeon. At the very least, she had to try.

  She fumbled around the fireplace, until her fingers were black from the dirt, and she leaned her forehead against the mantle in defeat. And was eye level with a brick that stuck out slightly. Oh what the hell, she thought, and pulled.

  Success! The door swung open and she wrapped the breakfast she'd been too anxious to eat in a handkerchief before stepping into the dark tunnel. She felt around until she 361

  found the release and the door swung shut leaving her in the dark.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  362

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  He and his brother had played with their cousins as children in this castle; he knew all of the medieval tunnels and passageways. Connor had known that Mackenzie would be difficult, but when he'd stepped into her room, he hadn't expected her to be so hostile. She had told him to leave. And she had lied about the baby. He knew she was lying; she was a terrible liar. But he knew she thought she could defeat John Campbell alone. It hurt that she didn't want his help. Even with the magician's on her side, he knew it was a lost cause.

  She had been hiding something from him for a while, and he had thought it was her plan to leave and run to his enemy.

  But after seeing her here, he knew there was more. She wasn't telling him everything. And what had she meant when she'd told him that he could not beat him. Not here, not now she had said. When?

  At her request, he'd hidden when the Campbell had come.

  It went against everything in his nature to hide, but when her eyes had begged him to leave, he'd done as she requested.

  He'd known she was lying about not caring any more. She cared enough that she didn't want him to die. But what else was she lying about? His brother had thought she'd betrayed them to the Campbell, but he knew her better than that. Liam was wrong. Mackenzie would never betray them. The fact that the MacDonalds had been attacked this morn was simply a coincidence. Besides, Mackenzie hadn't known any of their plans, so how could she have told the Campbell?

  363

  After seeing the truth in her eyes, he knew she was carrying his child. What would happen to that child if she stayed here with the Campbell?

  Connor had to force himself to stay in the tunnels when he heard the voice of his enemy in his wife's bedchamber. The tips of his fingers were raw from holding himself in place by gripping the rocky walls. After they left, he followed through the tunnels, bypassing some to get around common areas. He followed as far as the great hall, when a noise caused him to whirl around.

  Connor barely missed a blow to the back of the head in the form of the butt of a sword as he spun towards the noise. He drew his own sword in time to block the next attack, and ran the man through, but there were several men behind their fallen comrade. Connor fought until he was outmaneuvered and even then he still took one man down. But he blacked out after that, and the next thing he knew, he awoke in the dungeon.

  Connor groaned and felt the lump on the back of his head.

  He quickly took stock of his battered body, but there wasn't anything that wouldn't mend. He'd had worse. Nothing was broken and there were no gashes. Just a headache and sore muscles. He was chained to the wall with about four feet of slack. He looked around for a way to escape. He thought he could get out of the shackles. He hadn't been completely disarmed; there was a hunting knife in his boot. If he could spring the locking mechanism in the shackles, he might be able to free himself. As he reached for it, he saw a slight 364

  movement out of the corner of his eye. He rounded on it with his knife drawn.

  It was a small child! A very frightened child, at that. He squinted in the dark to make out features, but all he could see was fear. Connor stuffed the knife into his waistband.

  "Hello there, and what might your name be?"

  No response.

  "It's alright, I'll no' hurt ye," Connor spoke as soothingly as he could. "How came you to be here in this place?"

  Connor cajoled and pleaded with the boy to speak, but unto no avail. Eventually Connor gave up and went to work picking the lock on his shackles. The small voice that broke through his concentration surprised him.

  "I am called Pip, sir."

  Connor's surprised gaze met the small boy's. "Pip? Is that your given name?"

  "No sir. Me mum calls me Ronald."

  "Ronald? Well I've a cousin named Ronald."

  "Truly?"

  "Aye, lad. And he's almost as handsome as you."

  The lad smiled.

  "Now can ye tell me how ye happened to come in a place such as this?"

  "The bad man came and he killed me da' and me brother Collum. I picked up me da's sword and tried to fight them off." He shook his head, "There were too many. The captain told me that since I showed such courage, I could come with them. But they want me to join them, and I spat at his feet.

  So they brought me here."

  365

  "You're a very brave lad. Now, Ronald, I have a way of getting out of this, but I'll need your help."

  "My help?" his eyes goggled.

  "Aye, lad." Connor picked the lock on his shackles and went to work on the iron bars that held them prisoner. "I'll be needin' ye to look out for me, and let me know if anyone is a comin'. Can you do that?"

  "Aye sir. I can." The little boy scrambled up and ran to the bars, peering out into the dark tunnel.

  Connor had just set to working on the lock, when the boy whispered "My Laird, there's someone coming."

  Connor stepped back against the wall and put the chains back on his wrists, but he didn't latch them. He tensed and waited. The footsteps got closer. They sounded too light to be that of the jailor. But who else would it be?

  A shadowy figure stepped out.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  366

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  Mackenzie fumbled her way through the passages, stumbling and tripping in the dark closed-in space. She was beginning to get nervous; she still hadn't found the dungeon, and she didn't want the Campbell to find her missing. If Connor had made his way in through a secret tunnel, the Campbell obviously didn't know it existed or it would have been guarded, and she didn't want to be the one to expose the network of tunnels to him. It could be a valuable tool for the opposing clans in accessing the Campbell.

  Eventually Mackenzie found herself in the lowest levels of the castle; she had to be near the dungeon. Seeing a light up ahead, Mackenzie followed it, pausing to make sure it was safe to continue. It was. She stepped carefully out into the dim light outside the castle walls. Wow, she'd found her way out. She took in a deep breath and released it slowly.

  Mackenzie was so tempted to take off and run; the self-preservation instinct kicked in. She took another deep breath and reminded herself of why she would stay. Why she had to stay.

  Turning back into the dim tunnel, she stepped back into her prison.

  Mackenzie did find the dungeon, and the small boy in the far cell. It was easier to sneak him her food, than she'd dreamed. And while the boy was skittish at first, when she offered him her untouched breakfast, he nearly jumped up for it. She spoke quietly with him and turned to leave, so that 367

  she could get back to her room. She learned his name was Pip, and that he had been merely defending his mother when the Campbell's men had captured him and dragged him to this hellhole of a prison. What kind of man brings a child to a dungeon with the intention of executing him? She knew the answer though; he wasn't a man, but a snake. An evil and frightening snake.

  A movement in the back of the cell had her whirling about in shock. Connor! Her hand flew to her thro
at and she froze.

  "Hullo, love, miss me?"

  "Connor?"

  "Who else?"

  "What are you doing down here?"

  Connor held up his free hands, "Escaping. And you?" He glanced down at the boy greedily gobbling up the food she brought. "Bringing joy to the less fortunate?" His eyes darkened as he reached out from his cell and yanked her to the bars by the laces on her kirtle. "Or a quick tussle before I'm executed?"

  Mackenzie had never seen Connor like this, hostile and angry, and it was her fault. This whole damn mess was her blasted fault! She tried to calm her pounding heart and her heavy breathing. Gently disentangling herself from his grip, she stepped back and hardened her gaze and her heart.

  "I am truly sorry at that, Connor, but I cannot help you with either."

  She registered the shock and pain on his face before she turned and ran. But it was better if he hated her. Easier.

  368

  She found her way back to her room much quicker than it took her to find the dungeon. Thankfully no one seemed to notice that she'd been missing for about an hour. She sat idly staring out the window for the rest of the afternoon, when her silent servant came in, eyes downcast, to prepare her for her pre-wedding day feast. And even though her whole life had been leading up to this moment, in truth nothing could prepare her for what this night held.

  Connor couldn't believe her! She had left him in this prison! She had turned and run. What was going on? He heard booted footsteps and motioned the young lad to keep to the shadows. He placed his hands behind his back, loosely in the manacles.

  The Campbell walked in and gently pulled at the fingers of his gloves, taking each glove off and meticulously folding them into his jacket pockets. Being English, he had no desire to dress like the Scots did. He took a castle and its lands that did not belong to him, he insulted the people by raping the servants, and having anyone who opposed him slaughtered.

  "Ah, Connor MacRae, welcome to Urquhart Castle. Or should I say welcome back?" He was taunting him. "I trust your accommodations are to your liking?" And the laugh that followed didn't sound human. It was the wild laughter of an animal. It was the laugh of a madman.

  "Your wife belongs to me now. You really put a kink in my plans when you abducted her, you know. And marrying her?

  Quite a wily move on your part. I must say that I underestimated you. I never thought you'd be bold enough to take something that belongs to me. While ingenious, it was 369

  futile to try to bind her to you through marriage. A completely pointless effort. She and I will marry on the morn."

  Connor knew that he planned on executing him as soon as he possibly could. He didn't bother to ask what was to become of his people, his clan. He knew that the Campbell would decimate them; they would be hunted. His lands and his keep would be plundered and his people killed or beaten until they agreed to serve the Campbell.

  "What, no witty remark? No parting words? I'm disappointed in you. I expected better out of the fabled MacRae laird. It must be difficult to think that I will soon have what you cannot."

  "I will kill you." Connor said it calmly, conversationally, but his jaw was tight, and his eyes were glaring murderously at his hated enemy.

  The Campbell laughed. "No, I'm afraid you won't. I will however, have your wife. She is such a tempting morsel, isn't she?"

  At his smug declaration, Connor saw red. The idea of his hands on Mackenzie, of him touching her, running his hands down the soft smooth satin of her skin...

  He couldn't let his enemy see how much it got to him. So he forced his tone cool and aloof.

  "Did she tell you of the babe?"

  "What?" That stopped him cold.

  "I see your bonnie wee bride has yet to tell you I got her with child."

  "No! She can't be!" His rage was showing through his carefully cultivated facade. He took a deep breath in through 370

  his nose, and calmed himself, not without effort. "Well, even if you speak the truth, and I'm not entirely sure you do, the child will be mine. Your death will quite an auspicious occasion; proof that no one can defy me and survive. With you dead, there will be no one who would dare oppose me!

  And I doubt even she would care."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Why it was she who gave me the information and location of your allies."

  "You're lying!" Connor knew Mackenzie wouldn't do that.

  "Ah, but I'm not. How do you think I found your reinforcements so easily?" He laughed again. "Did you really think that you could defeat me? That I wouldn't be expecting such a pitiful move on your part? You know, I'd expected more from you." He clucked his tongue, "Such a disappointment."

  Connor couldn't believe that Mackenzie would betray him like that.

  He knew she wouldn't. Whatever game she was playing, she was not heartless, and she would never knowingly allow innocent people to be slaughtered. But how else could he explain the Campbell's knowledge of his men? Or the intimate knowledge of his wife. Or Mackenzie leaving him to rot.

  The Campbell continued on, "And as for the child, if you are telling me the truth, well, of course the child will be reared here under my tutelage and guidance. He will become the son of the most powerful man in the Highlands, and I will generously mold him to my image. What more could you want for your son?" He laughed sadistically as Connor 371

  clenched the chains on his wrists until they cut into his palms.

  He had to remind himself not to give away that his hands were free.

  "You're mad!" He glared at his enemy.

  "No, I am enlightened. I have seen the way and it is not living by the sword, or the way of men. It is through me! I am a god!" he crowed. "Once you are out of the way, I will rule all of Kintail and reclaim the title of Lord of the Isles. The fragile king will have nothing to say, and there will be nothing he can do. Even his son is too wrapped up in American politics to care what happens here in the barbarous lands of Northern Scotland! Rumors of his father's madness are abundant...."

  Connor cut him off, "You are calling the king mad? Is that no' a wee hypocritical of you?"

  "I am not mad!" he hissed and backhanded Connor across the cheekbone.

  It didn't hurt, however Connor knew the blow was meant to injure naught but his pride. It was incredibly demeaning.

  A slow smile replaced the anger on his face as he glared at Connor.

  "I trust you'll enjoy your last meal, for within the hour, you will be executed in front of my bride."

  Connor said nothing, his gaze never leaving his enemy's empty eyes, and his mind constantly working.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  372

  Chapter Thirty Nine

  John Campbell came to her room as before, and they walked to the Hall in silence. Mackenzie tried not to betray her nerves by her shaking hands. While he gripped one, she clutched her long flowing sleeve with the other so as not to fidget. They entered the Ballroom, and she recognized the colorful scene from her dreams, and it frightened her. At least this time, she was an active participant in the scene before her, rather than just waiting helplessly for the dream to finish. This was real. It was more than real, it was reality, and everything hinged on this one night, this one act. She must kill him before he could execute Connor. She had the advantage of foresight, but she still felt as if it hadn't quite

  "clicked" for her yet; Mackenzie was still unsure.

  Beneath her satin-clad feet, Mackenzie could feel the floor vibrating with the music that had started when they walked in the room. Keeping her face serene, Mackenzie stomped down all of the fears she felt, trying to be as calm as she hoped she appeared.

  Standing on the raised dais, he looked out and addressed the crowd. "My guests, you have come to witness my long awaited marriage. The clan MacKenzie is in attendance, and I see several acquaintances from court, oh this shall be festive indeed. Please, enjoy my hospitality; eat, drink, dance, for what a joyous occasion this is." He raised both ha
nds and as he did Mackenzie's eyes widened when all of the hundreds of candles flared and then settled down to a normal flame. The 373

  control over fire! Mackenzie wanted to yank her hand free and run, but she tried to take a steadying breath and instead feigned boredom, sat down next to him, and waited.

  Before he joined her, the Campbell leaned over to her, his breath brushing her ear as he spoke, "My dear, I have quite a wedding present for you." He paused, waiting for her to look at him. Mackenzie didn't disappoint. When her wide green eyes met his ice cold blue ones, he continued, "You will be widowed before you are married!"

  Her stomach fluttered as his words sank in; he was going to kill Connor! Mackenzie had pointlessly hoped that he had made it back to his own lands, knowing full well that he was here in the possession of the Campbell. She had to keep her reactions from showing. Stay calm, stay calm she chanted to herself.

  "I am pleased to see you understand. I have your husband in my possession, and I will do you the favor of dispatching him tonight."

  Mackenzie bit the inside of her cheeks to keep from telling him go to the devil.

  "First we shall have him displayed as he is; broken and disgraced. Then, my men will show him the true meaning of hospitality."

  She couldn't keep calm anymore. "You bastard!"

  "I am shocked. Are you not pleased with my wedding gift to you?"

  "You're disgusting."

  He merely laughed, obviously enjoying the play of emotions in her eyes. He still held her hand and his grip was 374

  becoming painful. It was as she had predicted; everything was as she had predicted. The colors of the gowns and the candles, it was overwhelming. Everything was too bright and too sharp. They sat, and her dream spun out before her.

  The Campbell called out, "Bring out the prisoner."

  Mackenzie knew it would be Connor, yet she was still shocked at how badly beaten he was. His right eye was swelling and from his lip and nose poured blood. It looked as though his face had borne the brunt of the attack. Although his shirt was torn and bloodied, it appeared as if the blood was from his still bleeding face. He was shoved to his knees, in disgrace. Mackenzie saw that there were a few fresh wounds on his back as well and almost gagged as she understood that they were from a whip. Connor had been flogged!