Tempted by a Highland Moon

by Gwyn Brodie

  She heard movement inside, then the door opened.

  He seemed surprised to see her. "Is something amiss, lass?"

  "Nay, I just need you to hold me."

  He grinned. "I can do that." He pulled her into the room and closed the door. "Couldn’t sleep, aye?"

  "Nay."

  He lay down on the bed and opened his arms, waiting.

  She smiled, and crawled in beside him.

  Circling her waist with his arm, he drew her back against his chest, then tossed the covers over them both. He brushed her hair away from her face and gently kissed her cheek. "Dinnae fash, lass. All will be well." he whispered, his breath warming her ear.

  She wanted to believe Duncan, as she snuggled against him and slipped into a deep sleep.

  When Kila awoke the next morning, he was gone. Why hadn't he awakened her? She had to get back to her own bedchamber before one of the maids found her curled up in his bed. Wrapping her cloak around her, she opened the door.

  Sorcha stood on the other side with her fist raised. "I was just about to knock." She didn't appear to be the least bit mortified that Kila had spent the previous night in Duncan's bedchamber.

  Someone was coming. She quickly yanked Kila into the corridor and closed the door. "No one will be the wiser," she whispered, as she walked with Kila to her own bedchamber, and followed her inside.

  "I'm so embarrassed." She was certain her face was as red as the other woman's long tresses. "I swear naught happened between us. I couldn't sleep and I needed Duncan to hold me."

  "There is no need for you to explain your actions to me, Kila. Believe me when I tell you, I understand completely. In fact, Duncan was the one who sent me to fetch you."

  "He did?" she asked, surprised.

  Sorcha nodded.

  Obviously, Duncan trusted Sorcha, and so would she. "You've been most kind to me."

  Sorcha smiled. "Duncan is a good friend to Alex, Galen and me. I can see how much he cares for you, and that you care for him as well. I want naught more than for the two of you to find happiness together."

  "I wish that as well."

  A battle cry echoed beyond the castle walls, and a piper began to play.

  An icy finger trailed up Kila's spine.

  The women's wide-eyed gazes met. With Sorcha's help, Kila quickly dressed, then they hurried downstairs to the great hall to find out what was happening.

  The tables had been shoved against the back wall, and the room was filled with clansmen, targes and weapons of every sort. In the middle of them all, Duncan and his friends stood listening, as Alex gave orders to the MacPherson guards.

  Duncan saw her and their gazes held, as he made his way across the room to where she stood. "Promise me, Kila, you'll stay put." He couldn't risk her getting hurt. He turned to go, but she stopped him with a hand on his forearm.

  "Please be careful, Duncan. I dinnae ken what I would do if I lost you."

  He kissed her on the cheek. "I will, lass, dinnae fash," he assured her. Duncan, Galen and Alex made their way up to the ramparts, while Connor and Eadan headed out into the bailey.

  "MacDonell?" Monro shouted from outside the castle wall.

  "I'm here, Monro, along with Laird MacPherson," Duncan replied, scanning the nearby meadow, overflowing with armed men.

  "Your clan and mine have no quarrel, MacPherson. Send MacDonell and Lady Kila out and there will be no need for bloodshed."

  "I'm afraid I cannae do that. Duncan MacDonell is a good friend of mine," Alex said, "which is the reason he sought shelter at Blackstone for himself and the lass."

  "I see. You need to be aware more men will be arriving soon. My friend and ally, Chief Ian Ross, is on his way here with a great many of his own clansmen."

  Alex glanced from Duncan to Galen. "We'll be ready."

  Nigh on an hour passed, and all was quiet. What was Monro waiting for?

  BALFOUR LEFT HIS HORSE tethered alongside Monro's and made his way to the back of the encampment, then slipped into the wood. He'd seen MacDonell pacing back and forth on the ramparts, and figured he'd be an easy shot. He'd not seen Kila, and guessed the Highlander had her safely hidden away somewhere inside the castle. If Verona wanted her dead, then she'd have to do it herself. If he'd been with the guards who'd found Kila and MacDonell, he'd have made certain neither of them made it to Blackstone. He readied his bow and arrow.

  "MacPherson?" Monro called out.

  "Aye?" Alex's voice echoed along the ramparts.

  "Have you given thought to what I said earlier? At any moment Ian Ross and his clansmen will be here, then we will be forced to take MacDonell ourselves. Do as I ask and I will take my men and leave your lands."

  "A man doesnae turn a friend over to his enemy. He helps him fight his battles," Alex shouted.

  Duncan's heart swelled with emotion. Alex was a good friend indeed.

  "An admirable speech, MacPherson, and I do agree, but that doesnae change the fact that he took the woman to whom I am betrothed and played me the fool."

  Alex exhaled loudly. "There are circumstances, Monro, of which you do no' ken. Perhaps if you would listen...."

  An archer's arrow struck the guard standing beside him in the shoulder, knocking him to the floor. The other MacPherson archers readied their arrows, and waited for the signal from their laird to fire.

  Duncan and Alex helped the guard to his feet.

  "Take Gil to the great hall, the healer is there, then hurry back," he ordered two other guards.

  "Who fired that arrow? I gave no order," Monro barked angrily at his men.

  "What Laird MacPherson said is true," Duncan shouted. "And what Lady Kila and I told you is true. If you would but listen to us, before making your decision to attack, you would see the truth of it."

  Monro didn't answer for a moment, then spoke. "I've just received word that Laird Ross and his men are nearby. I will discuss the matter with him, and let you ken my decision."

  Duncan nodded. "'Tis all I ask." At least the battle had been delayed for a time. Another arrow flew through the air, this time grazing Duncan's forearm. He clenched his teeth against the pain. "What are you about, Monro? I've just been injured by a second of your archer's arrows," he shouted, tearing a strip from the hem of his shirt and securing it around his arm to stanch the bleeding.

  "Who the hell is firing those arrows? I've given no order to attack, I tell you. Find out who is to blame, and dinnae stop until you do," Monro ordered his guards.

  Duncan frowned. If Monro's men didn't fire the arrows, then who did?

  VERONA SEARCHED THE crowded field for Balfour. Where the devil was he? It'd been him who fired those arrows, of that she was certain. What other well-trained archer would have missed his target not once, but twice? She spotted him a short distance away and waited for him to reach her.

  Balfour frowned. "I dinnae wish to hear your nagging, Verona. Just tell me what you need from me."

  She blew out a breath. "I'll meet you at the postern gate, and Kila will be with me."

  He frowned. "How do you plan on doing that?"

  "Leave that up to me. Just make certain you get rid of the guards. Surely you'll no' miss them from such a short distance. I'll open the gate, then take care of Kila. Once she'd dead, I'll scream at the top of my lungs, and tell everyone we were attacked. You must bruise my face, beforehand, in order for the attack to be convincing."

  His face broke into a grin. "'Twill be my utmost pleasure."

  She frowned. "It'll no' happen again. You ken what happened to the last man who hit me."

  Chuckling, he slipped back into the encampment.

  While Colin was busy speaking with his men, Verona slipped away, and rode up to the portcullis. "I am Lady Murray, and here to see my stepdaughter, Lady Kila," she told the guards.

  "We've received no order to allow you entrance, m'lady," an older guard said suspiciously.

  "She has been asking for me," Verona lied. "Poor thing is in need of someone to comfort her.
"

  After a moment, the guards raised the portcullis only enough for her to ride through, then quickly lowered it.

  Verona rode into the bailey, where a guard helped her down from her horse. She took a deep breath and headed inside the castle. The moment had finally arrived. No more mistakes could be made, or else her plans would be ruined.

  Connor came around the corner in time to see Lady Murray enter the castle. Duncan had said she couldn't be trusted. Surely he'd not allowed her entrance. If not, then what was she doing there? He intended to follow her and find out.

  A servant girl came up to her. "Might I help ye, m'lady?"

  "Aye. I'm here to see Lady Kila."

  "Please, follow me. Lady Kila is in the solar."

  Connor kept out of sight, as Verona was led down the corridor to the solar and left outside the door. Once she went inside, he would go and stand outside the door, where he could listen.

  Verona knocked, mentally noting the sgian dubh securely strapped to her leg.

  "Aye?" Responded a female voice she didn't recognize.

  '"Tis Lady Murray, Lady Kila's stepmother."

  There was much whispering and murmuring inside, and she had grown quite impatient before the door finally opened.

  A woman with long red hair stood in the doorway. "Please, come in," she said, stepping aside.

  "Much thanks, Lady MacPherson."

  The woman smiled. "Lady MacKinnon. Laird MacPherson is my brother."

  "I see." She looked across the room to where Kila sat glaring at her. No matter. It would all be over soon.

  Lady MacKinnon stood in the doorway. "Kila, you ken where to find me if you need me."

  Kila nodded.

  Once the lady had closed the door behind her, Verona strolled across the room. "Are you no' pleased to see me?"

  Kila's eyes were filled with hatred. "Did you honestly think I would be? After all you've done?"

  Verona shrugged. "You brought it upon yourself, dallying with that Highlander."

  "I'm in love with that Highlander. Love is something you dinnae even ken the meaning of. You never loved my father. 'Twas his position and wealth that you loved."

  She shook her head. "Nay. You are wrong. I happen to be in love with a very charming and handsome man at this very moment. And one you ken, as well."

  Kila's eyes widened. Good. She'd clearly shocked her. "What man?"

  Verona smiled sweetly. "'Tis Colin Monro, of course. And he loves me."

  Kila laughed, and a wave of anger washed over her. "I should have known, the way you carried on while he was at Windmere Castle. You couldn't keep away from him. Perhaps you are in love with Colin, but I very much doubt he feels the same about you, Verona, or else he'd no' have agreed to marry me."

  "Shut up!" She slapped Kila hard across the face. "You dinnae ken what you're talking about."

  Kila grabbed her burning cheek, and headed toward the door, determined to leave before she throttled her stepmother. When Verona stepped in front of her, fury spiked through Kila. "What are you doing? Get out of my way."

  Verona lifted her skirts and slipped a sgian dubh from its sheath. "Sit down."

  Fear wrapped around Kila like a thick rope, squeezing the air from her chest. She quickly shoved a chair between them, and again tried to get to the door, but Verona grabbed her by the hair. Pain shot through her scalp.

  She smashed her heel back against Verona's shin, and she let go of her. Kila made another attempt to reach the door, but felt the sting of a blade across her right forearm. She screamed.

  Connor burst through the door. "What the devil is going on in here?" He saw Kila's bloody arm and the sgian dubh in Verona's hand." Drop the blade, Lady Murray. Now!"

  She grinned. "Come take it from me."

  "Kila, go find Duncan. He's up on the ramparts," he said, never taking his gaze from Verona.

  Before she could move, her stepmother swung around and shoved the blade against her throat. "Toss your weapons aside, unless you wish to see her die before your very eyes."

  With the cold steel blade pressing against her skin, Kila was afraid to move, for fear Verona might cut her.

  Connor glared at Verona, his pale blue eyes dark with anger, as he placed his broadsword and dirks on the floor.

  "Sit there." She pointed to the settle.

  "Tear two strips from your shift and bind his hands and feet," she ordered Kila.

  It took some effort, but Kila was finally able to tear the fabric into strips.

  "What are you going to do with her?" Connor asked, while Kila loosely bound his hands, so he could easily escape.

  "Her fate is none of your concern," Verona snapped.

  Once Kila was finished, she stood up and looked down at Connor. "I'm sorry."

  "'Tis no' your fault."

  Before Kila knew what she was doing, Verona picked up Connor's broadsword and brought the sharp edge down across his skull.

  He grunted and slumped to the floor, a pool of blood forming beneath his head.

  Kila dropped to her knees beside him, crying. "Why did you do that?"

  Verona shrugged. "He kens I plan to kill you. I can leave no witnesses. See if he's dead."

  His head was bleeding, but not profusely. She felt for a pulse, then placed her palm over his heart. The beat was strong. "Aye, he's dead. You've killed him," she lied, bursting into tears, for telling the truth would surely mean certain death for him.

  "Get up and do as I say, or next time it'll be your throat I slice open," Verona declared through clenched teeth.

  Blood dripped from Kila's injured arm, and she held her other hand over it to staunch the bleeding, as well as the pain. "Why are you doing this? If 'tis because you want Colin for yourself, you can have him. I've already told you. I'm in love with Duncan." She glanced at Connor, praying he'd not move and give her lie away.

  Verona laughed, sending a cold chill over Kila. "It seems the handsome Laird Monro still intends to marry you, for no other reason than the promise he made to your father to take care of you. Is that no' the daftest notion you've ever heard?"

  Kila felt as if ice water flowed through her veins, not because of what Verona had said, but because of what Kila had just realized. "I didnae want to believe Duncan, but he was right. 'Twas you who tried to poison me," she stated matter-of-factly.

  Her stepmother frowned. "And would have succeeded, if that stupid cow had no' spilled the most of it."

  "I assume then, 'twas you who arranged for the rider to run me down, the kidnapping, and the arrows shot at me as well. And you didnae work alone, Balfour helped you. Am I correct?"

  "Aye, on all accounts. You're smarter than I gave you credit for, Kila."

  "If you're planning to kill me, what are you waiting for?"

  "I'm no' stupid. I have to make your death appear to be carried out by someone other than myself. Another reason I had to get rid of Connor."

  Kila made a grab for one of the dirks, but Verona kicked it away. "Get your cloak and put it on. We're leaving here."

  Angry at herself for missing the dirk, she yanked the cloak about her shoulders, and winced as a sharp pain shot through her injured arm. She had to find a way to overpower Verona, but with an injured arm and no weapon of her own, how? "Where are you taking me?"

  "You'll see, now come here."

  Kila didn't move.

  "If I have to come get you, I assure you, you will regret it, for I am most skilled at using a blade. Would you like me to show you?"

  Kila shook her head. Until that moment, she'd never realized the true extent of Verona's wickedness. She slowly walked toward the door, glancing around for anything else she might use as a weapon.

  "Keep that arm hidden beneath your cloak." She opened the door and shoved Kila into the corridor, then closed the door. I'll be behind you with my blade ready, should you decide to call out for help, do you understand?"

  She nodded. After seeing the crazed look in Verona's eyes, Kila was certain her stepmother
would kill her without giving it a second thought.

  Sorcha stepped out of the nursery with a twin holding each of her hands. She smiled, when she saw them.

  Kila suddenly felt ill.

  "If you dinnae wish the bairns to see me spill the blood of their mother," Verona whispered in her ear, you'll behave yourself."

  Kila forced a smile, though she trembled inside, and her heart pounded against her ribs. "There are my two favorite children."

  Aiden grinned. "Will you play with us on the morrow, Kila?"

  "Will you make me another wreath out of buttercups?" Alie begged.

  She squatted in front of them. "I certainly will." If I'm still alive!

  Alie smiled. "We're sleeping in Mama and Da's bedchamber tonight."

  She glanced up at Sorcha, who nodded. If Kila had children of her own, she would want them near her as well, with a battle about to erupt at any moment.

  Kila smiled. "How enjoyable that will be." She rose to her feet.

  Sorcha noticed Kila's cloak. "Surely the two of you are not going outside?"

  Kila opened her mouth, but it was Verona who spoke. "'Tis the kirk where we're headed. Kila wished to say a prayer for her dear departed father, God rest his soul."

  "I see. Then please be careful. Come children, 'tis well past your bed time."

  Kila let out a sigh of relief. She'd had no choice but to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary—for Sorcha's very life had depended on it.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  From the ramparts, Duncan looked up at the darkening sky. Gloaming was drawing nigh, and a light rain had started to fall. Thunder rumbled through the hills, followed by an occasional flash of lightning.

  Alex came up beside him. "How's the arm?"

  '"Tis but a wee bit more than a scratch, and stopped bleeding some time ago."

  "Good. If Monro decides to come for you, you'll be needing it."

  The storm grew bolder, as Duncan paced back and forth, anxious to hear Monro's decision. Kila's smiling face came to mind and his heart lurched. His life wouldn't be worth living without her beside him. He looked down at the sea of armed men outside the castle walls, and prayed Monro would listen to reason.