Highland Deception (Highland Pride)

by Lori Ann Bailey

  Her thoughts turned to what would happen when they sent her back to Conall. Bile rose up and threatened to consume her. The fiend would punish her. He was not the kind of man to brush off a slight like that without stiff penalty.

  Surely, Lachlan didn’t know what kind of man he was. If he had cared for her even the smallest bit, he would never turn her over to the likes of that beast.

  Numbly, she walked between the two men, her head straight and posture erect, as they marched to a side of the keep Elspeth had told her was not in use. They proceeded past the shocked faces of people she had met and come to care about. Curiosity, pity, or anger filled their eyes.

  They would all hate her now. What had ever made her think she could have friends? That she would be anything other than a pawn in the games men played?

  After ascending two flights of stairs, she was taken to a tower, left in a room that had only a bed and chamber pot. Heavy scrapes reminded her that she was bolted in like a common criminal, a caged bird, a game piece yet to be played. Her freedom was gone, and she collapsed on the cold stones. Only then did she break down and let the tears flow.

  …

  The motherent Lachlan opened the door to the garderobe, Elspeth burst into the library. “Get her out of there right now. What are ye thinking, lad?” She only called him lad in private and when she disagreed with a decision he had made. It was morning. It had rained all night, and he had barricaded himself in the room and drowned himself in whisky.

  “Do ye ken who she is?”

  She blasted past him, forcing him to turn back into the room. His head pounded and there was a shooting pain in his neck, because he had fallen asleep on his desk in the wee hours of the night. While his mother continued her verbal assault, he massaged the back of it with his hand.

  “Aye, I heard who she was born to and who she was pledged to, but ye ken that isnae who she is. She is a lass, the daughter of a duke, and has no choice in those matters.”

  Her words rang true, but they didn’t change the facts. She was betrothed to the man who had tried to have him killed twice, a man who would slit a boy’s neck without even flinching. Oh, Christ, had the second group of Conall’s men been after him or her? Thinking back, that man with the dirk had acted as if he knew her.

  But if she were here spying, why would they take her away? His thoughts swirled with unanswered questions and too much whisky. In a vain attempt to clear the fogginess, he shook his head then stomped over to his chair and plopped down.

  “She lied to me. She may have brought our clan into a war.” He jammed his elbows on his knees and buried his aching head in his hands.

  “She didnae lie to ye. She told ye the truth. If she had told ye who she was, ye would have sent her back. And she was right, now wasnae she?” She poked a finger into his chest.

  Lachlan groaned, reached for his whisky and gulped, but he didn’t even taste it anymore. He wanted to drink Maggie into oblivion.

  “Give me that. Ye have had enough.” She snatched the bottle from his hand, walked across the room, and poured the whisky out the window, then turned to cross her arms, daring him to challenge her. “Have ye even given her a chance to explain?”

  “Explain?” He growled. “What? That she is to be wed to my greatest enemy? I dinnae think she can explain it away.” He rolled his eyes, and his brow knit together as the fury overtook him again.

  “Let me talk to her, then,” Elspeth pleaded. “Dougal willnae let me in to see her.”

  “No one will see her. She willnae get the chance to poison another’s mind. She will go home tomorrow and with all speed, and I pray the Murrays and the Erskines dinnae swoop down on us the next.”

  “She has been in there all night with no food or drink.”

  “She can starve.”

  Elspeth gasped. He said it, but he did not mean it—he still felt so betrayed. He reached for the flask she’d put down on the desk and tipped it back, but it was empty.

  “Ye willnae mistreat her. Aileen poisoned yer mind, and ye let it cloud yer vision.” His mother stamped her foot. “I see the way Maggie looks at ye. The lass is in love with ye. She would never do anything to harm ye or our people.”

  Did the lass care for him? A dim ray of hope attempted to burst into his frozen heart. Even if she did care for him, though, what could he do about it? She was pledged to Conall Erskine.

  “Ye owe it to yerself to get an explanation, and ye owe it to yer brother, whose life she saved, to let her defend her actions.”

  …

  Lachlan unbolted the door to the tower room and strode in confidently. He didn’t want to show any signs of weakness. He expected her to be on guard and ready to hurl angry words at him, but the bed was empty.

  Scanning the small chamber, he found her huddled on the floor, leaning into the curved stone wall. Her arisaid was unclipped and wrapped around her like a blanket. She was a small lass, but now she looked more like a child. Maggie didn’t move or acknowledge him.

  His steps echoed in the almost empty room, and her gaze lifted to stare at him blankly. She didn’t say a word; he knelt down beside her, and she flinched away. Her tearstained face was dry, but trails of salt had been left in their wake.

  She was sallow, not her usual glowing pale, but a drained, dull shade of white. Guilt gnawed at him. He had not expected to find her so broken. She wasn’t the fiery, reckless girl he had come to know.

  “Finlay,” he called out to the man guarding the door, “she needs some food and drink. Have Lorna bring her something. Some whisky, too. She needs a little color.”

  Crouching down, he reached out to touch her cheek where the salty trails lingered. Her skin was cold to the touch, and he looked around to find there were no coverings on the walls to keep the chill at bay and the fireplace looked as if it hadn’t been used in years. It had been unusually cold for September last night—the wind and rain had pounded through the night as well.

  She didn’t move but followed him with her sad eyes. Lachlan hated seeing her like this; he was used to the fearless lass who matched his verbal quips.

  He stood and scooped her up in his arms. Although she tried feebly to pull away, he held on and carried her to the bed. She shook, refusing to meet his eyes.

  He’d missed having her next to him last night. When he’d woken up on his desk, it was because he had reached out for her warmth. Sitting on the pallet, he cradled her body against his and rocked with her until he could speak. “Why, Maggie? Why did ye not tell me?”

  She continued to look down and away from him. Her voice scratchy and weak, she said, “Because I kenned this would happen. I kenned ye would send me back.” Her breath caught, and he thought she would sob. “I dinnae want to go back. I dinnae want to be wed to that monster.”

  He stiffened. “Conall?”

  She nodded and finally gave him a tentative glance. He caught her chin in his hand so she couldn’t look away. “Aye. Have ye heard of him?” Her eyes were wide with surprise. “I have been dreading it for years, and then ye came and I thought I was safe. I thought ye would save me.” A single tear fell down her face. “I never should have believed ye would be different.” A spark of defiance lit the watery depths of her eyes.

  “Are ye aware of Conall’s treachery, then, lass?”

  Everything hinged on her answer. He studied her carefully, because if she was being less than honest, he would pick up on it instantly.

  “I only ken he is a monster, and I would rather be in the cloisters than tied to him.”

  Lorna entered with a tray and smiled at Maggie. “Dinnae worry, Maggie, ye belong here.” She huffed at Lachlan, “If he tries to send ye away, Elspeth will castrate him.” She set the tray on the bed beside them.

  “Out with ye, Lorna,” Lachlan said.

  She ignored him. “Are ye all right, Maggie? Elspeth will want to ken he is treating ye fairly.”

  Maggie nodded but didn’t meet Lorna’s gaze.

  “Lachlan, she is one of us now.”
Realizing all the women were rising up against him, he snorted, raised his eyebrows, and pointed toward the door. She smiled at Maggie and turned to go.

  Rising, he set Maggie down on the bed, grabbed a glass, and poured her a generous dram of whisky. “Ye need some color. Drink,” he ordered as he placed the cup in her cold, trembling hand and molded her fingers around it. She obeyed and shuddered as the warm liquid went down.

  “Now, tell me what ye have against Conall.”

  She flinched at the mention of his name. Obviously struggling to say whatever she had kept hidden, she peeked up at him through her long, dark lashes.

  Maggie took another swallow and whispered so quietly he could barely hear her. “It started on the day the betrothal contract was signed.” After another gulp she continued, “He cornered me in one of the stairwells at home. It was dark. He said he wanted a taste of what he would be getting.” She shivered. “I refused him, and he got angry.” Maggie looked down at her glass and watched the amber liquid swirl around as she rotated the cup.

  Seconds ticked by before she added, “He punched me several times in my midsection. Afterward, I told my father. He either didnae believe me or didnae care. He told me I would have to get used to the man’s gruff manner, since we were to be husband and wife.”

  His anger returning, Lachlan ground his teeth at what had been done to her. A tic in his jaw twitched fiercely.

  “’Tis not all. That night, a light rapping on the door woke me. It was Miranda. We had been friends since we were babes.” Maggie stopped to inhale sharply; she blew it out and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, he sat next to her and took her empty hand in his much warmer one. “She had been beaten. Bruises and blood all over her face. He had raped her. I will never forget the way she looked.”

  As she stared blankly at the wall, she continued, “Broken. It was like she was a broken doll. ’Tis the only way I can describe it. She could barely hold herself up. And she blamed me. Miranda never spoke to me again.”

  Finally, Maggie looked at him. Tears filled her tired eyes. “She said if I told anyone he would kill her, so I never said a word.”

  Maggie lifted the glass and gulped the rest of the whisky. “He told her to come show me what was going to happen to me when he got me home. He said he was going to enjoy breaking me in.”

  Lachlan remained silent, but he secretly swore he would kill Conall if he ever laid a hand on Maggie.

  Her body trembling, she stared down into her cup and swirled the now empty vessel nervously. “Conall kept coming to visit. He threatened me every time. I closed myself off and stayed away from people. I was afraid he would hurt someone else.”

  As the truth rolled in his head, Lachlan went still. He couldn’t send her back, not knowing what Conall was capable of. He had heard stories of the man’s cruelty on the battlefield and had seen what he had done to the priest and the church, but he’d had no idea the bastard could be so cruel to an innocent lass. The thought of Maggie in his hands made Lachlan’s blood run cold.

  “Please dinnae send me back to him.” A hiccup escaped as she pleaded. She looked lost and helpless. His fearless Maggie, who had braved a skirmish to save his brother, dived naked into a river, climbed the tallest tree to save a wee kitten, and rode a horse as if she was chased by the devil himself, was terrified of Conall.

  “I can go to the convent. I can join them. He doesnae have to know I was here.” Maggie put her cup down on the tray and went to her knees before him on the bed. She gripped both his hands so tightly he was sure there would be marks, but at the same time, the vise that had been strangling his heart since the motherent he’d found out who she was lessened and he finally felt as if he could breathe again.

  “Please, please dinnae send me back.”

  The lass had no idea he even knew Conall. How had he ever thought she might be plotting against him?

  He put a hand on her cheek. “I willnae send ye back, Maggie. I willnae let the man touch ye ever again.” He meant it. His Maggie would not be going anywhere.

  “Will ye send me to the nuns, then?”

  “Nae, Maggie, ye belong here. I’ll write to yer father. He and I will come to some agreement.”

  “He willnae back out on the contract with Conall. He is a man of honor.” She shook her head, eyes wide again with fear.

  “Let me worry with that. I can persuade yer father. I have proof Conall is not what he appears to be.”

  Still, Maggie looked frightened.

  She didn’t know what he had in his possession, so he told her about the letter to Argyll pledging the support of Erskine men to the Covenanter cause and that Conall had vowed to kill his own father and become governor of Edinburgh. How Conall would be an outcast after Lachlan and his allies were done with the bastard.

  She was still on her knees, nestled between his legs. He pulled her in for a tight embrace, thrilled she had no part in Conall’s deceit. Her cold cheek brushed against his warm face. Guilt stabbed at his heart, and he hugged her closer.

  He had been cruel, had locked her in this dank, cold room since before dinner the previous evening. Scanning the sparse surroundings, he cursed. She was Maggie, not some prisoner.

  “I am sorra for denying ye the chance to explain yesterday. I was so angry. I shouldnae have locked ye in here. I should have listened.” While he had been warm with drink in his study, she had huddled on the floor of this prison. Why had he not believed in her innocence? But something still bothered him—he’d just said he had proof of her betrothed’s treachery, and she didn’t flinch, didn’t even ask about it.

  Doubts remained, but he shook them aside as he loosened his grip and slid his hands down to her hips to pull her off her knees and onto the bed beside him. Mayhap she was just distraught.

  “I couldnae blame ye for being angry. I didnae tell ye the truth.” Her gaze cut to a corner of the room and stayed there. “The day ye found me in the woods, I was running away. Freedom isnae my horse. I gave him that name after I stole him. I didnae have a plan except to run. I needed to get somewhere safe and far away.” He took in the shattered look, the one that said she had been desperate and had no one to turn to but a stranger. “Ye said ye would bring me to yer home, but I thought if I told ye who I was ye would insist I return to my father. If I had, I’d be married to him right now.”

  “Eat,” he instructed. “We can rest after. I didnae get enough sleep last night, and I cannae imagine ye did, either.” She was weary, and he just wanted her in his arms.

  She had not plotted against him. Her only crime had been trying to save herself from life with a monster.

  He’d do whatever it took to make sure that didn’t happen.

  …

  Lachlan guided Maggie down the steps. Despite her weak and wobbly legs, she had become light and unencumbered by the secrets that had weighed her down for years. Her mind still reeled. He wasn’t going to send her home, was not even going to send her to the nearest abbey—he wanted her to stay.

  A slight mist still swirled as they walked hand in hand out into the morning air, where they were met by a crowd of people. Lorna ran up and nearly tackled her as her friend hugged her fiercely.

  “Whoa, slow down, Lorna. Ye dinnae want to hurt her,” Lachlan chided.

  Maggie was glad to see Lorna had been on her side. It was nice to have a true friend, one who believed the best about you without question. At one point, Miranda had been that person, but it had been so long since she’d had someone to trust, a person she could count on, that she almost broke out into tears again.

  “Ye should take better care of her, and I willnae have to worry so,” Lorna huffed.

  Pinning Lachlan with imploring eyes, Elspeth asked, “Is all well with ye now?”

  “Aye, ye were right.”

  Elspeth let out a sigh, and her eyes became bright. “Ye look pale, Maggie. Are ye sure ye are well?”

  “I am a little tired.” It was an understatement. She was exhausted with fatigue all t
he way to her bones, because sleep had eluded her during the night, and she’d cried until her tears were dry.

  “She needs rest.” Elspeth glared at him, and Maggie wished, not for the first time, her mother had been like this woman. She was a fierce woman who would do anything to take care of her babe.

  “I am taking her to rest,” he bit out defensively. “Malcolm. Ye take over for the day?”

  “Of course,” he replied. Maggie heard him say something else, but Donella pushed Lorna out of the way and latched onto Maggie in a sideways embrace so her swollen belly would not push into her.

  “Thank God ye willnae be going anywhere. I like ye here, and I think Coira needs yer help to bring my babe into the world.”

  Alan appeared at their side and tilted his head down toward Lachlan, crinkling his brow up at the same time. Lachlan leaned over and whispered something in his ear.

  “The thought of marrying Conall would scare the hell out of me, too,” Alan burst out. Maggie laughed. She couldn’t help it—maybe it was from the fatigue. He grinned at her response.

  “He may come for her.” Lachlan broke the mood, and her insides twisted.

  If he knew she was here, he would come; he was not a man to easily relinquish what he thought to be his property. “Mayhap he doesnae ken I am here.”

  “We cannae go on that assumption. One of the men who attacked us outside Kentillie has disappeared. They seemed to recognize ye. Did ye ken who they were?”

  Her steps faltered, and she gulped as the implications washed over her. “Glenn.”

  “Aye, were they after ye then? I thought they were after Robbie and the letter.”

  “Nae, they were just as surprised to see me as I was them. Why would they be after Robbie?” A cold breeze skidded across her skin and dotted it with rain that had started to fall harder, and Maggie shivered.

  “He witnessed Conall murder the priest.”

  A vision of the charred remains of the church and Robbie standing over a newly dug grave invaded her memory, and she gasped. “That man will go to hell for all the horrible things he has done.” She turned her head into Lachlan’s shoulder as the watery assault increased.