Highland Hellion (Blades of Honor #1)

by B. J. Scott

  “Nay.” Garrett moved closer. Caught off guard by a sudden bout of dizziness, and the feeling like his legs might buckle, he clutched the back of a chair for support.

  “You’re injured.” Isla rushed forward and grasped his elbow. “Sit before you fall.”

  “I’m fine,” Garrett lied through clenched teeth, his shoulder aching and his head throbbing again.

  “Where is my daughter?” Scotia glared up at him.

  “I am afraid she is being held prisoner by the Lord of Argyll.” Garrett hung his head in shame.

  “I dinna understand. You promised you wouldna take her on any more raids. You swore to me that no matter how much she begged or pleaded, you would stand firm.” Scotia brought a shaky hand to her mouth to stiff a coughing spell.

  Isla went to Scotia’s bedside, lifted her friend’s head, then brought a mug to her lips. “Have a drink.”

  Scotia brushed Isla’s hand away. “I dinna need any ale. I want answers. I want my daughter.” She narrowed her eyes, her glower intensifying. “Explain to me why Arya is being held captive, when I made it clear she was not to accompany you.”

  Facing Scotia was harder than he’d anticipated. “Your daughter is a very persuasive lass, not to mention as stubborn as sin. I did my best to convince her to remain behind, but she’d have none of it.”

  “Are you a man or coward?”

  “I asked myself that same question,” Garrett replied, shaking his head. “I tried to reason with her, but she vowed if I dinna allow her to come, she’d wait until we’d left, then follow. In the end, I thought it was better she come with us so I could keep an eye on her.”

  “Well, you obviously thought wrong.” After a moment’s pause, Scotia continued. “However, I am partly to blame.”

  “What do you mean? Arya’s capture is my fault, not yours,” Garrett replied.

  “I should have known Arya was up to something when she asked Isla to stay with me, and should have forbidden her to leave the croft.”

  “You couldna stop her any more than I could make her stay behind. If there is one thing I’ve learned about Arya, once she makes her mind up to something, there is no changing it.” Garrett paused to stifle a chuckle. While her temerity was frustrating, it was also one of her many traits he found refreshing and appealing. He cleared his throat. “The Lord of Argyll might have her, but rest assured, we will do everything in our power to get her back safely. I promise or will die trying.”

  “If only I had received a response to my letters. Perhaps we could have avoided this.” Scotia cradled her face with her hands.

  “Your letters?” Garrett asked.

  “Aye. But it matters not. They went unanswered, and now it is too late. Arya is the Campbell’s prisoner and he will most likely have her executed.”

  Garrett scratched his head. How letters could have prevented her capture was beyond his comprehension, but Scotia obviously had hatched a scheme, the details of which she’d kept a secret. “We’ll get her back,” he said with conviction, then headed toward the door.

  “I pray you can,” Scotia sobbed.

  Garrett flicked his hand at Isla. When she joined him, he lowered his voice so only she could hear what he had to say. “Can you stay with Scotia for a few days more? She canna be left alone.”

  Isla nodded. “I am happy to do anything I can to help. Rest easy, I willna leave her side until you’ve returned. With Arya, God willing.” She crossed herself.

  “Are you aware that most of the families are moving higher into hills in case the Lord of Argyll orders an attack?”

  “I have no family. My husband and sons died at Bannockburn and I doubt an old woman poses any threat to the Campbell or his men.”

  Garrett patted Isla’s shoulder. “You do your husband proud. Best I go and meet with my cousin, so we can prepare to go after Arya and the other prisoners.” Garrett opened the door. “Thank you again for staying with Scotia,” he said, but when he turned to leave, he ran into Thomas, one of Arya’s young cousins, knocking the lad on his arse.

  “Forgive me, m’lord,” Thomas said, staring up at him.

  “Where are you going in such an all-fired hurry?” He grasped Thomas’s wrist and tugged him to his feet. “Catch your breath, then tell me what all the palver is about.”

  “Riders are coming,” Thomas replied.

  “The Campbell’s warriors?” Garrett asked.

  “Nay. They are from the Clan Fraser.”

  “Fraser? Why would enemies of Clan MacDougall be coming to our encampment? And so far from their home.” It made no sense to him.

  “They are here because I asked them to come.” Scotia propped herself on one elbow and peered at Thomas. “Where did you see them, and how long before they arrive?”

  “Da and I were a few miles from here when we first spotted them crossing the river. They stopped to water their mounts, but it dinna appear they planned to make camp. My father figured they’ll be here by daybreak, so sent me on ahead to warn you.”

  “Praise the Lord.” Scotia lay her head on the pillow and released a shuddered breath. “Garrett, you must wait until they arrive before you go for Arya.”

  “How can a visit from a sworn enemy be a good thing? The Frasers and MacDougalls have hated each other for many years.”

  “You will understand once Connor Fraser and his brothers arrive,” Scotia replied. “Please, humor this old woman and do as I request.”

  “I would do anything to honor you, m'lady, but you ask too much. These men fought with Robert the Bruce. When I was a lad, I remember the stories told to me by my uncles, Keith and Dungal, about the Frasers. Tales of their treachery. Have you forgotten these men were part of the army that killed your husband and my father at Bannockburn?”

  “Nay, I havena forgotten. Many men died in that battle, but there wasna always such hatred between the clans. However, war and opposing political beliefs have a way of making men bitter and turn friends into enemies. But those days are gone, and we must move on,” Scotia replied. “Right now, Arya is the only thing that matters, and I believe the Frasers are the ones who can help her.”

  “I agree that war changes men, but still dinna know how inviting our foe into our midst will help to save your daughter,” Garrett argued.

  “Dinna question me, Garrett. Once I reveal the truth, you will have a better understanding. Now go and meet with Logan. I grow very tired and need to rest. But promise me you willna go after Arya until the Frasers have arrived.”

  “I promise, but only the Almighty knows why. However, if they are not here before daybreak, we must leave.”

  Chapter 7

  Unable to sleep, Garrett had spent most of the night preparing for his quest to rescue Arya. The sun had yet to rise when Thomas came to his door with the news of the Frasers’s arrival.

  “As if we didn’t have enough problems with the Arya’s capture and the Campbell breathing down our necks. The last thing I need is a confrontation with these blackguards,” he grumbled. “Nothing good can come of this. I feel it in my bones.”

  “I’m only delivering the message, m’lord.”

  “I know and thank you.” He patted Thomas on the head, then sent him on his way.

  Garrett stomped toward Scotia’s croft, sidestepping the six horses tied to the trees in front of the cottage. Not a large enough party of men to pose a threat, but there was no telling how many warriors were skulking in the forest, ready to attack.

  Garrett knocked on the door, but did not wait for a reply before entering. “I’m here as promised, Scotia,” he said as he eyed up the men surrounding her bed.

  “Please come closer,” she muttered.

  Garrett approached with caution, his hand resting over the hilt of his sword, his gaze locking with that of a tall man with broad shoulder
s, jet-black hair, and piercing dark eyes. Beside him stood a younger man with the same brawn, coloring, and rugged features. There was no mistaking they were brothers. However, the warrior at the foot of the bed sported an even larger frame. Not only was he taller and more muscular than the other two, but his hair was more auburn than black. Three men stood in the shadows a few feet back, leaving Garrett to conclude that the ones closest to the bed where the Fraser brothers.

  “What is he doing here?” the first man asked. “You assured me that if we came, we’d meet in private.” His scowl intensified as he studied Garrett.

  “Scotia asked me to come.” Garrett stopped a few feet from the bed and broadened his stance.

  “I told you we couldna trust the MacDougalls,” the younger man growled, then drew his sword. “It’s a trap. We should never have come.”

  “If you will let me explain—” Scotia began to speak, but was overcome by a coughing spell. Isla hurried to her side with a cup of ale, but she waved her friend away. “I’m fine. Perhaps you could let me speak to these men alone.”

  Isla nodded. “As you wish, but I promised Arya I—”

  Scotia raised a shaky hand. “I appreciate your concern, but please leave us for a few moments.” Scotia waited for her friend to leave before addressing the men. “I asked all of you to be here for a very important reason.” She looked at the younger man. “Please put away your weapon and hear me out. I give you my word this is not a trap.”

  “Tell us what is so urgent that you summoned us here. In your letter, you stated your request to meet with us has something to do with our father,” the first man said.

  “I will explain, but first, I think introductions are in order.” She pointed to the first man then glanced at Garrett. “This is Connor Fraser, laird of his clan.” She then gestured toward the younger man. “This is Bryce Fraser, and the strapping lad at the bottom of my bed is their older brother, Alasdair.”

  The three men glared in Garrett’s direction, but didn’t offer an arm in friendship.

  “This young man is Garrett MacDougall. He is now the head of the MacDougalls who still reside in the area and their related septs. He was my husband’s cousin and is a very dear friend. I wanted him to be present when I spoke to you. What I have to say affects him as well as you.” Scotia paused to draw in a slow deep breath.

  “That doesna explain why you summoned us,” Bryce said.

  “Give her a chance,” Alasdair responded. “You are always so quick to judge and in a hurry to react.”

  “And you, brother, are too slow,” Bryce countered.

  “Enough!” Connor pinned his brothers with an angry stare. “Stop bickering and let the lady speak.” He turned his attention to Scotia. “Please explain, Madame. How did you know our father?”

  “I met your da nearly twenty summers ago. It was before the war with England came to a head and the bloodshed escalated. Andrew was on a hunting trip in the area and found himself on my father’s land. He asked if he could water his horse and fill his wineskin from the well.”

  “What does that have to do with our being here now?” Bryce tapped his toe impatiently on the floor.

  “Let her finish. Or you can go and wait with the horses,” Connor snapped. “Forgive my brother’s impetuous nature. Please go on, Scotia.”

  “I told Andrew to take to all the water he could carry, then offered him some bannock and venison. My father was out tending the fields with my brothers and would not be returning until dark. I told your da if he wished to rest a spell that it would be fine for him to do so in a grove of trees near the stable.” Scotia paused to draw in a ragged breath, her voice growing weaker the more she spoke.

  Connor offered her some ale, and she accepted. After taking a sip, she continued. “We got to talking, and he told me how his wife and wee son died in a raid on his village. He also told me about his four remaining sons. He clearly loved his family, and while his loss saddened me, I was touched by his devotion.”

  “That still doesna explain why we’re here,” Bryce interrupted.

  “I’m getting to that,” Scotia replied. “Your father left after he’d rested, but not before asking if he could call upon me if he came to the area again.” Scotia brought a hand to her flushed cheek and smiled. “He was so handsome and sweet. Andrew looked very much like you, Alasdair. Your brothers must take after your mother.”

  “What did you tell him?” Connor asked.

  “I said I would like it very much if he paid a return visit.”

  “And did he?” Alasdair asked. “Return, I mean.”

  “Aye, several times that summer. We became very good friends.” Tears welled in Scotia’s eyes, but she blinked them away. “On his last visit, he asked me to marry him. He told me he had to make a trip to Berwick on Tweed, to sign the Ragman Roll and swear fealty to the Longshanks. But he promised to come for me afterward. He said he planned to introduce me to his sons and requested I return with him to Beauly to live.”

  “He never mentioned you,” Bryce replied curtly.

  “Perhaps he was afraid how you’d react if you learned he had a new woman in his life,” she replied. “But he swore he’d tell you about me after the gathering.”

  Connor scrubbed his hand across his beard-stubbled chin. “Did you accept his proposal?”

  “Aye, I told him I’d be proud to be his wife. I knew when he returned and asked my father’s permission, my da would agree the union a good idea, and I told him so. Andrew was so happy when I accepted his proposal, he swept me into his arms and kissed me passionately. One thing led to another and before we knew it, we were—” Scotia’s cheeks reddened as she fisted the plaid covering her bed.

  “Go on,” Connor prompted.

  “We made love.” Scotia covered her eyes with her forearm and released a shuddered breath. “It was the last time we saw each other.”

  “Our father was killed during the massacre at Berwick on Tweed, along with our oldest brother.” Connor blew out a heavy sigh, then continued. “While he pretended to be there to pick up supplies and swear his loyalty to the English crown, he was in fact there to meet with a group of Scottish rebels, bent on driving the bastards from our soil. Longshanks heard there was talk of treason and decided to put a stop to it before it began.” Connor lowered his gaze. “Thousands of men, women, and bairns were put to sword that day. Somehow, the three of us managed to survive, but I’ve often wondered why the Almighty spared us.”

  Scotia clutched a hand to her throat. “I never knew for certain what happened to Andrew. I had my suspicions, but when he dinna come for me, I thought perhaps he’d just changed his mind. A short time later, I learned I was breeding.”

  Bryce’s mouth gaped open. “Are you telling us our father sired a babe? What game are you playing?”

  Scotia nodded. “Aye. He fathered a lass.”

  Taken by surprise, Garrett found himself wondering the same things as Bryce. And if what Scotia claimed was true, was Arya, the woman he secretly loved, actually the daughter of his sworn enemy?

  Bryce threw his hands in the air, then began to pace. “This is all a load of cow dung and I dinna believe a word of it. Our father would have told us if he’d met someone new and had a daughter. I have no idea what this woman hopes to gain from this ruse, but I say we get out of here while we still can.”

  “Calm done, brother, and let her finish,” Connor ordered. “Why has no one has ever heard about this until now, Scotia?”

  “When I found out I was going to have a babe out of wedlock, I dinna know what to do. I had a friend in the village, a loving man who had asked me to marry him on more than one occasion. Ronald MacEachan offered to take me as his wife. But he made me swear I wouldna tell anyone the truth about Arya. It seemed like the only option at the time, and I knew he would be a good husband and father. I
wasna wrong. Ronald was an amazing man, and Arya and I were very lucky to have him in our lives.”

  “Why do you choose to disclose this secret now?” Connor asked.

  “Aye,” Alasdair added. “If your life was happy and he was good to the lass, why wait twenty summers to say something?”

  “Ronald was killed at Bannockburn, after which, our clan’s land was taken and given to the Campbell, leaving us destitute.” Scotia replied softly.

  “Your leaders should have thought of the consequences before siding with the English,” Bryce said.

  Connor held up his hand and scowled at his brother. “Let her finish.”

  Scotia sucked in a slow, shallow breath then continued. “As you can see, I am dying, and dinna want Arya to be alone. She has been a good daughter and deserves so much more than the hardships life has dealt her so far. Besides, I thought you had as much right as she does to know the truth.” No longer able to hold back her tears, she sobbed uncontrollably, bringing on another fit of coughing.

  Connor grasped her hand, patting the back of it. “You must try to calm down. Does she know?”

  Scotia shook her head. “Nay. She adored Ronald, and I saw no point in telling her. However, when I became ill, I decided to contact you. But I was waiting to see if you responded to my letters before telling her I’d been living a lie. And now it may be too late.”

  “Why do you say that?” Connor asked.

  “Because she is being held prisoner by Laird Campbell and they plan to execute her for reiving.”

  Connor turned to Garrett. “What is she talking about?”

  Garrett stepped forward. “Members of our clan went on a raid of the Campbell’s stronghold. We thought we had a reliable person on the inside. A former clan member who was going to let us into the castle. We intended to take only what we needed to see us through the winter, then leave without issue. But it dinna turn out as planned.”