by H. C. Brown
Jamie’s attention did not leave Lord Moreau’s face. He walked backward keeping in step with her halting progress. With a slide of metal, he drew his sword.
“I would not do that if I were ye. The lady has made her wishes known.” A grim smile etched his lips. “I am a wee bit bigger than the lass, aye?” He moved forward grasping the sword in both hands. “If ye harm one hair on her head, I will take great pleasure in feeding your corpse to the fish.”
She did not care if Lord Moreau killed her. Her heart ached and life would mean nothing if she lost Drew. Without warning, Lord Moreau moved closer to the dockside and she fell, his arm tightened around her neck cutting off her air. She batted at his arm fighting to remain conscious.
“Let her go.” Jamie swung his sword and it cut through the air with a whine.
Lord Moreau’s evil breath brushed her cheek.
“Why would you want to save her? She is nothing but a worthless whore.” He chuckled and his grip slackened allowing her to take a few precious breaths. “I have had the pleasure of lifting her skirt and slipping between her white thighs many a time.”
I am going to kill you. She stamped down hard on his foot grinding her Cuban heel into his toes.
“Filthy English whore.” He tightened his grip around her neck again, and lifted his snake’s head cane. “You will feel this across your back the moment we are on board The Black Turtle.”
Jamie tossed his head sending trickles of water from the ends of his soaked hair to the front of his green velvet jacket.
“Stay still, lass.” He turned his grim expression on Lord Moreau. “If ye think for one second ye are going to get away wi’ shooting ma brother, ye can think again.” Jamie glared at him. “We have our own justice in the Highlands ye ken, and we dinna take too kindly to anyone assaulting a laird.”
“I have the trump card, n’est pas?” Lord Moreau chuckled and wrenched her hard against him. “You will not risk harming he—Arrrr.”
A loud thud came close to her ear and Lord Moreau loosened his grip and slid with elegant grace to the ground. Free from his hold, she staggered and the edge of the dock came perilously close.
Warm breath brushed her cheek and Drew’s familiar scent wafted over her.
“I dinna think, ye should be going for a swim right this minute.” He wrapped one large hand around her arm to steady her. “You are safe and you are well.” He sheathed his dirk and pulled her into his arms. “Rest your head on my shoulder for a wee while.” He lifted his chin. “Jamie, send a lad for Lord Rupert’s carriage, she will need tending and dry clothes.”
Numb with shock she stared at his blood-splattered, ashen face. “I thought you were dead. Oh, Drew, are you badly hurt?”
Drew touched the top of his head gingerly and winced.
“Nay but a scratch but it addled ma brains for a bit. Just as well we arrived when we did or the misbegotten toad would have had ye on that rowboat.” He rubbed her back in slow circles. “I am sorry for not getting here sooner. I believed ye would be safe with Madame Josephine for a day or two.”
She rested her head on his damp plaid and sighed. “You are here now and that is all that matters.” Glancing down at the crumpled figure of Lord Moreau, she frowned. “What did you hit him with?”
“The handle of ma dirk. He will be wi’ the fairies for a while yet.” Drew’s full mouth twitched up at one corner.
She touched her face and winced in pain. “I want to kick him for breaking my nose.”
Drew held her away then examined her face with gentle care.
“Nay lass, leave the fighting to me, aye? Your nose is not broken, but ye will have a nasty bruise on your cheek and mayhap a black eye to boot.” He grimaced and pointed his chin toward Lord Moreau. “Angus will deal wi’ him. I need to get ye away from the docks. The rowboat from The Black Turtle is minutes away and we will need to be gone afore anyone can identify us.”
She lifted her attention toward The Black Turtle and a small boat with two pirates rowing frantically toward shore. “How will we ever be safe while he lives?” She pointed at Lord Moreau.
Angus’s mouth twisted into a rueful smile.
“Dinna fash about him, lass. I will remove him from your presence.” He bent, lifted Lord Moreau over one shoulder and grinned. “Go now. I will be more than happy to deal with him. I have a wee surprise for him in mind, ken?” He slung Lord Moreau across his broad shoulders like a carcass of beef and strode off down the dock.
She stared after him in disbelief for some moments before turning back to Drew. “Where are we going?”
Before Drew had a chance to reply, a carriage and four came thundering up the road and stopped a few paces away. Lord Rupert, hair untied, and flowing lose about his shoulders, jumped from the door.
“What is amiss?” His attention went to Drew then to her and his blue eyes widened. “Dear God, Adrianna, who did this to you?”
“I will explain later.” Drew handed her into the carriage. “Take her to Madame Josephine and see she is tended and dressed for travel then meet me back at the tavern. I will go there now and inform Bent to pack your bags. We are leaving for Badenoch without delay.” He pushed a lock of black hair from his blood-splattered cheek and smiled at her.
“Go now, mho creagh. We are going home.”
Lord Rupert slipped into the coach and gave her a speculative gaze.
“I am to blame for this injustice. I should have visited you at first light.” He pulled a clean handkerchief from his sleeve and handed it to her. “Will you ever forgive me?”
The coach rattled down the street and she leaned back into the squabs. “There is nothing to forgive.” She dabbed at her nose. “I am more concerned about Betty.” She pressed one hand to her stomach and met his intent gaze. “She may be dead. I heard her screaming as I fled the brothel. She remained behind to prevent Lord Moreau following me. She hit him over the head with a chamber pot. God knows what he did to her in my absence.”
“I doubt Lord Moreau would risk killing her.” Rupert grinned. “Was the chamber pot full by chance? Although one would hardly notice, indeed the man has the foulest odor.”
She smiled, the action made her face ache, but she did not care. “No I do not believe so, but a good part of me wishes it was full to the brim.”
* * * *
Drew bit back a groan and grasped his head convinced it would tumble off his neck and roll across the dock into the sea. He leveled a gaze at Angus from beneath heavy eyelids. “Dinna tell me ye let the ugly piece of dung go free?”
“Well, I did and did not.” Angus held up both hands as if warding off a raging bull and grinned. “I sold the worm-riddled dog shit for two shillings to a captain sailing for the Indies. I thought it would be an appropriate punishment for enslaving Ian. The ship is due to sail on the next tide, so I dinna think he will be bothering ye again.”
He returned the smile, but the small action sent needles of agony through his head. “I thought ye would have tossed him into the sea, although drowning is too good for that pig of a man.”
Angus reached behind him and pulled Lord Moreau’s snake’s head cane from his belt.
“I kept ye a wee souvenir. I thought ye might want to spit on it and burn it on Samhain.”
Drew shook his head and needles of agony pierced his brain. “Nay, I dinna want any reminder of the wee pest. Throw it into the sea and let the fish have it.”
His focus cleared and he noticed the concerned expression on Jamie’s face and his pallid appearance. He forced his lips into some semblance of a smile to reassure him of his well-being. “Ye did well, Jamie. Da would have been proud of ye and so am I.” He squeezed his brother’s arm. “I am glad ye had ma back as always.” He met his gaze. “Ye ken I must take Adrianna away now and I will need Angus to drive the coach so you will have to visit the merchants in ma stead and sell our goods. Can I trust ye and Ian to bring ma mares safely to Badenoch?”
“Aye, have nay fear. I will treat them l
ike gold sovereigns.” Jamie chuckled.
“See that ye do. Visit as many merchants as you can today. I dinna want ye more than a day behind me. Now, I would be much obliged if ye would fetch ma horse, ma balls are frozen, and if I stand here a moment longer, I may never sire a bairn.”
Chapter Seven
Snug and warm, Adrianna stared aimlessly out of the window and waited for Rupert to return. Rain glistened on the rooftops of Inverness and mist bathed the mountains in the distance. Somewhere, hidden in those rugged but beautiful mountains lay Badenoch, Drew’s home. His bloodied face filled her mind and her heart twisted. Dear God, he very nearly died saving me.
She loved him, indeed, had craved him from the first moment she set eyes on him, and knowing him so intimately had locked him in her heart forever. She delighted in the solid strength of him, his unfailing sense of honor, and the way his unique scent of male musk and bergamot ignited her arousal, as if he belonged only to her.
At the sound of a soft knock on the door, she turned her head.
“That will be Lord Rupert, milady.” Betty rose from a chair by the roaring fire and moved to open the door.
Lord Rupert had dressed in his traveling cloak. He smiled at her from the hallway.
“Well, I must say you appear to be much better.” He removed his hat and bowed. “The carriage awaits. I have obtained a basket of food and blankets.”
She smiled at his earnest expression. “How long will the journey take?”
“Two days perhaps.” He waved Mr. Bent inside to collect her belongings. “Come now, we must make haste and remove you from Inverness without delay. Drew is, as we speak discussing a plan with Jamie to explain Lord Moreau’s disappearance to Captain Jacques.” He offered his arm. “If this ruse is a success you will not have to worry about being discovered at Badenoch.”
Swaddled in warm serenity by his words, she smiled at him. “That is wonderful news.” She took his arm and lifted her skirts. “I cannot wait to see Foiseil Castle. Is it a large holding?”
“Indeed, and is fit for a queen, my lady.” Rupert led her toward the stairs.
* * * *
On the evening of the second day of the journey, Drew moved his horse beside the carriage and leaned his dark head toward the window to speak to Adrianna.
“See there.” He pointed to a large castle in the distance. “Ma home. Does it please ye?”
Adrianna dropped down the window and squinted at the formidable fortress wedged on the side of Badenoch Mountain. Rising above a wide river snaking its way south, Foiseil Castle appeared to grow from the rock face, as a dark smudge on the pristine snow covered peaks. The walls rose up, impenetrable, black slabs of rock topped with barbed spikes. Arrow slits sat in a line some ten feet below, the faces of guards evident. A reinforced wooden door, six horses wide, was set in the middle of the building and appeared to be the only crack in the building’s defense. Flying high above the magnificent building waved a flag, no doubt the standard of the Mackenzie.
“I will signal the guards to open the door.” Drew withdrew his sword and standing in his stirrups waved it in the air. “We are home at last.”
Small patches of snow lay on the ground and icy wind blew through the window chilling her to the bone. The carriage rattled across a bridge over the river and continued down a well-worn road toward the castle. As they approached, voices rang out in Gaelic and Drew responded. Moments later, the massive gate swung open with a whine, and the horses clattered over the flagstones into a courtyard.
To her disappointment, Drew dismounted and walked away to speak to his men. Finally, Lord Rupert opened the carriage door and let the steps down.
“Hand me Fru Fru. He took the dog then offered his arm to her. “Come along, my dear. It is much warmer inside.”
She gathered her skirts and took his arm alighting from the carriage. “This is a fortress.”
“Indeed, and just as well.” Lord Rupert led her toward the keep. “This part of the castle is cut from the rock face.”
She gazed around the huge area. The walls showed the marks of the tools used to hone the rock. Crystal glittered in small patches amid the lines of orange and black running in waves throughout the dark blue walls. In places, trickles of water flowed over green swatches of lichen and moss. Fat candles sat in rusty iron sconces dripping wax in a constant flow.
The courtyard held a blacksmith at one end. The clang of metal followed by the hiss of steam percolated through the noise of men’s voices. She strolled with Rupert through a pair of massive oak doors and into the keep. Her attention went to a group of men busy inside a well-stocked armory. Rows of guns, with long oiled shafts, rested in racks beside swords, the lethally sharp blades glistening in the candlelight. Along one wall, barrels of arrows had been set in a row before a long bench piled high with bows.
The scent of gunpowder mingled with the heavy musk of sweaty male hung in the air. She swallowed hard, frightened at the extent of the brutal weaponry. She had never seen such instruments of death. Outside the armory sat a man sharpening swords. Heavens above, the flying metal sparks barely missed her. She flinched away and Rupert patted her hand.
“Have no fear, my lady. We are at a safe distance.” He moved swiftly guiding her toward a pair of closed doors. “You will be more comfortable waiting in the Great Hall. I am sure Drew will not keep you long.” He smiled at her. “After what had been happening here over the past few months, you must appreciate he needs to discuss any current threats with his men.”
She held her breath as a guard pushed open the massive doors to the Great Hall and a wave of delicious heat brushed her legs. “Yes, of course. He is laird and no doubt will have to explain why he has brought an English lady to his home too.”
“Hmm, I am sure once they set eyes upon you, they will be charmed.” Rupert strolled toward a fireplace. “Warm yourselves. I will ask one of the servants to bring you some mulled cider.”
Betty moved to her side and her eyes widened.
“Goodness, milady, do you think all these people live here?” She placed a bag at her feet. “A fine place to get lost. I have never been in such a huge place. You will need to ask the laird for a map to be sure.”
She waved Betty into the chair opposite. “Sit down and warm yourself. It will be some time before someone takes me to a room. I was not expected. No doubt they will have to find a place for me to stay.”
Glancing around the massive hall, she noticed all within had jobs to do. Housemaids changed the rushes on the stone floors and others busied themselves by placing trenches on the long wooden tables. A procession of serving girls followed with goblets, pitchers of wine and plates of bannocks.
A rosy-faced older woman came bustling toward her and gave a bob of a curtsy.
“I am Ellie, ma lady. I am the housekeeper for Laird Mackenzie. I will get ye settled in a room and have a bath sent up and some food.” She smiled. “Ma Lady Badenoch will be along shortly to speak wi’ ye.”
Adrianna followed the large rotund woman from the hall and up a spiral staircase along another hallway and up another flight of stairs. At a door with a guard standing outside, the woman paused and turned to her.
“The laird has given ye his chambers for now.” She opened the door and stood to one side. “The guard will keep ye safe. Dinna leave the room, aye.” She waddled down the hallway without a backward glance.
Hmm, well at least she speaks English. She examined the room and sighed. The laird’s room to be sure with fine furniture and a huge bed with a swan’s down cover displayed crisp, clean linen. A newly set fire heated the room and on one side of the fireplace, a fine bookshelf filled to bursting with leather bound volumes. She wandered around the room admiring the swords and targes adorning the walls and the painting of stags in a forest of green leaves.
A knock sounded at the door and it opened to reveal a small woman, with a pretty face and engaging blue eyes.
“Ah, you must be Rupert’s visitor.” She spoke in
French. “Welcome to Badenoch. I am sorry I do not have a room ready, I had no idea he would be bringing a fine English lady home with him.” She held out her hands. “I am Lady Badenoch, Drew’s mother.”
Rupert’s guest? “I am most pleased to meet you Lady Badenoch. I am Lady Adrianna Beachwood.” Heaven’s above Drew has not informed her about me.
* * * *
Drew dropped into the chair in his solar and leaned back stretching his legs. Two days of hard riding in the freezing cold had stiffened his muscles. He glanced at his mother’s inquisitive expression and smiled. “What is amiss?”
“Why did ye put Lady Adrianna in your chamber? It is not seemly for a laird to do such a thing. If she is not betrothed to Rupert why may I ask have you brought a Sassenach to Badenoch?”
He reached for the bottle of whisky and half-filled his glass. Ah well, I suppose I will have to get it over with. “The truth is, Ma, she is the lass I mentioned to Father. I plan to make her my wife.” He held up a hand to prevent the tirade he expected going by his mother’s beet-red face. “I love her and the fact she has a considerable fortune will nay doubt sway the clan to ma way of thinking.” He sipped his drink hoping the clenching in his wame would ease. “I would ask your blessing because I plan to marry her first thing in the morning.” He snorted. “If she wi’ have me.”
“If she wants ye or nay, I will not have ye marrying wi’ out your family to witness the union.” She glared at him. “And shame on ye for not giving a fine lady time to prepare for her own wedding or for the housekeeper to prepare a feast in your honor.”
Drew rubbed his chin dismayed at the thought of waiting another hour to make Adrianna his own let alone another two days. “Jamie and Ian will arrive tomorrow. I will not wait more than an hour after they arrive home so you will need to make sure Father Simon is here in the castle and not out visiting ma tenants.”
