by Reece Butler
But she hadn’t slipped, and she would survive this nightmare. And then she’d really work hard to be the perfect wife, even if it meant staying inside Kinrowan until spring!
Kiera squeezed Camden’s thin shoulder. “In a few weeks this will be naught but an adventure. You’ll boast of how the mighty Camden protected his lady.”
“I didna protect ye, my lady,” he said morosely. “We are still in this cave, and none ken it.”
“Ye waved at someone.”
“Aye, Fergus.” He sighed, slumping against her. “He canna look out at the beach and into the bailey at the same time. He’d wish to watch the football game with the laird.” He choked, almost a cry. “I dinna wish ye te die, my lady.”
She pulled him into her arms. He fought the tears while she said nothing. He was just a lad, alone in the world. When she’d asked him if his mother had made his shirt he’d bluntly said he was an orphan, but he’d been raised right by a soldier.
She kissed the top of his head, loving the feeling of his embrace. She would wait for the right time to tell him, but he was no longer an orphan. Her babe would have an older foster brother.
“They dinna wish me dead, Camden. If I die Kinrowan goes to another. ’Tis Laird Malcolm they want. I be but the bait.” She sighed. “My dear husbands said naught to warn me. I shall box their ears!”
He sniffed back more tears and sat up. She released him, though kept him close.
“Can ye keep a secret?”
“I’ve kept one or two in my life,” she replied.
“Yer husbands kenned ye’d been inside Kinrowan since ye got here and would wish to see the people. They didna wish to scare ye, so they let ye enjoy yer day. I was to be yer guard. Chester was to help. I tried to keep him near with my wee pieces of venison, but he got tired.”
So they knew and didn’t tell her. She should be furious, but they were right. She would not have wanted a couple of guards following her everywhere. The women in the village would not have spoken to her with men looming around.
“I dinna wish Laird Malcolm to die, or them to force ye to marry another. Mayhaps Master Duff will save ye, so the laird can be safe?”
“Can you think of a good laird who would stay behind the walls of his castle and let someone else rescue his lady wife?” She felt him shake his head. “Nay. If we canna escape on our own my blockhead husband will put himself out to be harmed.” She paused, thinking of the obvious.
“Could Master Duff’s scars be covered, so he’d look like the laird?”
She was going to make sure Camden got decent schooling. If he could think like this at seven he would one day be a good leader. They just had to get out of this cave first.
“’Tis a good idea. I shall tell you a secret about those brothers. None ken this but Bessie and Ramsey the keeper. I am trusting you with my life and that of my babe, so I can trust you with this.”
“Ye trust me?”
The waver was back. She bumped shoulders with him.
“Of course I trust you! You are here with me, in this wee, dark, damp cave. Without you beside me I’d be screaming. I dinna like cold, dark, tight places.”
“I dinna like hearing the sea smashing agin’ the rocks below us,” said Camden.
As long as it stays below us when the tide rises, she thought. It was not something to tell the boy.
“You ken why Master Duff wears a leather mask?
“’Tis said he has scars so bad ’twould scare bairns.”
“Aye, that is what is said. But ’tis a lie.”
His whole body stiffened. “A lie?”
“Malcolm and Duff are identical twins. Duff has a scar on his chin from wrestling with his brothers, while Malcolm has one on his arm to show he was born first. Otherwise, most canna tell them apart. Duff wears the mask—”
“So he could pretend to be laird if he must. And if they kill him ye’d still be married.”
The thought of losing either man hurt more than she’d thought possible.
“I canna choose between them, Camden. Malcolm is the laird and needed by Kinrowan. But Duff brings such joy when he makes me laugh—”
Kiera pressed her lips together. She would not cry. When this nightmare was over and all three of them plus the babe were together in their bed, was when she’d allow tears to fall. She needed to focus on something else.
“You were a very brave lad to get in that wee boat,” she said. “And even braver to scramble up from the boat to this cave. ’Twas almost dark, just the moon on the water, yet ye led the way for me.” She kissed his head. “You will make a fine man one day, Camden MacKenzie.”
“I’m no MacKenzie, Lady Kiera. I were an Urquhart, but now I’m just an orphan. But one day I’ll be a soldier!”
“Aye, one day you’ll be a grand soldier. But you’re an orphan no more.”
“Nay?”
She gathered him in her arms and set him on her lap. He didn’t resist. She hugged him, smiling in the dark.
“Laddie, no son could do more for his mother than you have done for me today. When we get out of here, and we will!” She stopped to emphasize that to him. “You, me, Laird Malcolm, and Master Duff will sit together and talk about us becoming a family.”
He said nothing for so long she wondered if she’d done something wrong.
“Do you nay wish to be my son?”
“Ye mean, sit in yer lap like now? Not when the lads are near, but if I have the fever?”
“Aye, hugs are one thing a mother gives her son.”
Another long silence.
“What if the laird doesna say aye to wanting me?” he whispered.
“Have ye heard how much my husbands care for me?”
“The women say Laird Malcolm and Master Duff love ye, but I canna see a man speakin’ of it.”
Neither could she.
“And the men? What do they say?”
“They say the way the laird and Master Duff look at ye when they think ye canna see, and how ye look back when they turn their back, shows ye are a good wife.” He paused. “They said sommat else about buglin’ like a bull elk in full rut, but I dinna ken that.”
She barely held back a laugh. If she let it out, she’d have to explain and that was something a father should do. It was interesting that the women thought Malcolm and Duff loved her. Bessie had said so, but Kiera thought it was wishful thinking. Of course the men would make a comment about her husbands bellowing.
“Ye wouldna be kissing me, aye?”
Camden’s question pulled away from thoughts of the last time Malcolm bugled. She’d have to tell him that term. When they were all safe!
“I promise not to kiss you unless you have a fever, and the lads aren’t near.”
“Then, if the laird and master want me when we escape, I would say aye.”
Camden said when, but her thought was if.
If they escaped this cave. If Malcolm and Duff were still alive.
No, she would not think that way. They would escape, her husbands would be safe, and she would tell them she loved them even if she had to tie them down to listen!
“When could I call ye mama?”
Camden had barely whispered it. She snuggled closer, smiling.
“Why dinna ye start now?”
Chapter Fourteen
“Ye canna risk it, Laird Malcolm. All they must do is kill ye while holding Lady Kiera. They’ll marry her off and Kinrowan will be under the hands of that damned Ross! He’ll—”
“I’ll go,” said Duff, interrupting Ramsay. He met Malcolm’s eyes across the width of Fergus’s room.
“Nay!” Malcolm paced like a caged beast across Fergus’s lair, his usual calm nowhere to be seen. “The parchment stabbed to the door to the bailey said the laird was to be exchanged for the lady. That’s me.”
Duff had always played the fool. He’d enjoyed his life while Malcolm strived to be the best he could be at everything. Not to boast of it, but with a quiet determination to be the best w
ith what he had available. Until they met Laird MacKenzie there’d been little to work with. Now Malcolm was a laird himself, responsible for the lives of dozens of people. He, on the other hand, was not necessary to Kinrowan. If he was killed by Ross someone else would take over as steward.
“Kinrowan needs you alive, Laird Malcolm. I am more easily replaced.”
The keeper scratched at his cheek, which Duff took to draw attention to the leather mask hiding his face. He nodded. Malcolm and Ramsay knew of the deception. Todd, the marshall, and Fergus thought he was scarred.
He had scars, but most were invisible. A new one had been gouged deep into him when he’d discovered Kiera had been taken. Why did he not realize how precious Kiera was until after she was gone? He and Malcolm had scoffed at the whole idea of love. He now knew what it meant. Loving a person meant their life was more important than your own. Not because of duty and responsibility, but because without them you had little to live for.
He loved Kiera and would easily give his life for her. The three local men thought Kiera and Camden were likely in a nearby cave. The small boat hadn't had time to go far. The thought of her in a dark cave with waves crashing near made him almost explode.
“Duff,” said Malcolm in a commanding voice that sounded suspiciously like Somerled, “Kiera is my wife. You jumped a stick with her in a meadow. I went to my knees afore a priest, vowing to be faithfully loving and caring. I canna do that if I’m sitting here on my arse while my wife huddles in a cave!”
“We canna get her from Drooping Cave afore first light,” said Todd, patiently repeating what they didn’t want to hear. “And if it storms…”
His voice trailed off. They all knew boats could not get close to the cliffs in high seas. At least if the cave faced directly across the strait it should not get flooded by high waves combined with the tide.
Ramsay had described the cave. It wasn’t that far past where the beach ended. The almost sheer cliff face rising a hundred feet above meant the only way in or out was by boat. While it was a short scramble up from the water for an experienced man, it would be difficult for a woman and lad, especially one terrified of the sea. And if Kiera’s ankle was bad and she fell into the water… At least someone on shore had spotted a boat with two figures in it returning. As expected, it crossed Cromarty Strait to the Ross side.
“We both wish to go after Kiera,” said Malcolm. Duff could feel his pain as well as see it on his face. “Not only am I her husband, I am her laird.” His voice broke. “I have asked ye for little, brother. Let me go to her!”
“Ross demanded Malcolm, Laird of Kinrowan,” said Todd. “Ye canna go, Master Duff. He’ll see ye are nay the laird.”
Duff exhaled. He wanted to rescue Kiera but Malcolm was right. He was their laird and legal husband. Duff had been practicing, hoping he wouldn’t have to do this. He closed his eyes, thinking of all the things Fergus said about his brother. He straightened his spine, pushed his shoulders back and down, and lifted his chin. He breathed deep, thinking of how Kiera needed him to be strong. He opened his eyes.
“What you are about to see may keep Kinrowan, and Kiera alive,” he announced. “Malcolm will go as the letter demanded, with Ramsay.”
Fergus tilted his head, appraising Duff. His keen eyes narrowed.
“The note said I was to come alone,” said Malcolm.
“Aye, and ye will go forward alone once ye see them. Ye’ll take off yer sword and yer dirk and all, and ye will hand them to Ramsay.”
“I dinna trust the man to go in without weapons.”
“He will see ye hand yer blades to Ramsay but ye’ll have the whips Laird MacKenzie gifted ye with. He’ll not expect that.”
After their older brother Torquil was so badly whipped by the Campbells many of the MacDougals had learned to use the weapon. Malcolm had taken it further. He was not one to spend time dicing or boasting. Instead he’d quietly worked away at his skills. It took years to perfect the placing of the tip of the whip. Malcolm could use two at once in battle.
MacKenzie had heard about it and asked for a demonstration as he’d not heard of anyone else with such a skill. He’d given Malcolm a matched pair of six foot whips. Because Kinrowan was so large there were rooms with empty space. One of them was on the first floor. It had a vaulted ceiling and a trapdoor to the pit. Malcolm had gone in there, sometimes with Duff, and practiced.
Malcolm pursed his lips as he looked up, thinking. “Aye, it might work.”
“My brother will wear my mask until he is far enough from Kinrowan Castle. Then he will give it to Ramsay to hide. Malcolm will watch Duff leave Kinrowan.”
“How can that be, laddie?” asked Fergus.
Duff turned his back and reached for the leather tie. He lifted it off his face and rubbed his skin. Neither he nor Malcolm had shaved since the morning before. His dark stubble would cover his chin scars. He took a moment and turned to face them.
“Satan’s toenails!” Fergus peered at him, face white. “There’s two of ye!”
“I will be Malcolm of Kinrowan,” said Duff. “My brother will be Malcolm, Kiera’s husband.”
Fergus, Todd, and even Ramsay looked from Duff to Malcolm and back. Ramsay knew they were identical but had not seen them together, unmasked.
“How do I look, Fergus?” Duff strode across the room to Malcolm. They stared, eye to eye, and then turned to face the room.
“None will ken it,” said Ramsay.
“If we can get Kiera and the lad away ye mayna need to do this,” said Todd.
“I dinna wish to spend the rest of my days thinkin' of Ross kidnapping my wife,” said Malcolm. “He must be shown up badly enough that King James will finally stop him.”
“Stuffing the Lord of Kintail’s daughter in a cave is nay bad enough?” asked Fergus with enough sarcasm to sink a boat.
“Ross is married to Kiera’s older sister,” said Duff. “That was by the king’s order, to stop attacks between the two clans. It hasn’t worked. This might.”
“So ye’ll be sending the real laird to meet with Ross,” said Todd. “Duff will be Laird Malcolm here so all will think their laird allowed his brother to go.”
“They will learn the truth when we stand side by side with Kiera after Ross is vanquished. And Camden,” added Malcolm. “He is an orphan, aye?” He waited for the keeper’s nod. “He is now my foster son.”
“Our foster son,” said Duff.
“How will we get Malcolm, the real one, back from Ross’s men?”
“You ask the damnedest questions, marshall,” said Ramsay.
“And what is the damnedest answer?” demanded Todd.
They all turned to Malcolm. He sighed heavily. “I will find that out when I see Ross face-to-face.”
“Do ye think he’ll come?” asked Duff.
Malcolm nodded. “I canna see him missing the chance to walk into Kinrowan with Kiera.” He ran his hands through his hair, then clutched it with his fingers and scowled. “What will we do to get through the night?”
“I’ll get out my chessboard,” said Fergus. “Losing a few games will tire ye out so ye can sleep.”
* * * *
“Lady Kiera!”
Thinking the voice was from another dream of rescue, and having finally found an almost comfortable position, she didn’t move. The warm body beside her, did. Camden scrambled over her, bumping her ankle.
She inhaled a hiss as pain shot through her. She was awake. Far too awake for this early in the day. The cave was dark, but not black.
“My lady, ’tis the marshall! We must get out now, afore those toads come for us.”
Camden had started out calling the Rosses another word, one she’d heard her father use when his whittling blade slipped. She’d suggested ‘toads’ was better for mixed company. She turned around and crawled to the entrance on her sore knees. A boat with familiar faces bobbed below.
“Thank God, ye’re safe!” said Kinrowan’s marshall.
She didn’t k
now the man as he spent the day with the men and in the stables, and she spent her time with the women in the castle. But he had been pointed out to her. The guard with him also looked familiar.
“Can ye climb down, my lady?”
“Climb?” Her laugh sounded close to frantic, even to her own ears. “Nay, I canna climb down. But I shall scramble if you’ll try to catch me if I fall. I twisted my ankle last night and climbing up here made it worse.” She peered down. “The sea seemed far lower last night.”
The two men shared a chuckle. “’Tis called the tide, lass. ’Tis high now, so closer to ye. Can ye lower yerself, feet first?”
“I’ll stay here and have ye hold on to me,” said Camden.
The lad was half her height and less than half her weight. It was chivalrous, but not smart.
“Can you gather everything?” she asked Camden. “If it looks like we havena been here, and someone different is sent to fetch us, they may think they have the wrong cave.”
Camden beamed at her. “Ye are thinking well, my lady.”
“Aye, well,” she muttered to herself, “the foot’s not working but the other end is.”
She did not wish to recall the next while. Climbing down, looking at the sea and hoping she’d not fall into it while using an excruciatingly painful ankle, was best forgotten. So was having to remove her gown and put on the rough clothes of a fisherman. Her beautiful gown was stuffed under nets, no longer beautiful. But she was alive.
She sat at the back, shivering, the canvas clothes scraping her skin. The marshall sat beside her. Though he didn’t put his arm around her, he blocked the wind and the side touching her was less chilled. Camden sat on the nets while the guard rowed. They’d told her she’d be taken to a cottage near the beach, dressed in a servant’s garb, and brought to the castle in a cart with the other female servants who went there daily to work.
