My Highland Rebel

by Amanda Forester

  The figure of a woman.

  * * *

  “We’ll find a way to repay ye.” Alasdair wrung his tam in his gnarled hands. He followed Jyne as she took account of the storeroom. “We found things well stocked. I confess we have helped ourselves to yer larder, and for that, I humbly apologize.”

  “Ye had but little choice,” said Jyne sympathetically. Fortunately, when construction had stopped at Kinoch, the workmen had left the stores behind.

  “Aye, but it dinna sit well wi’ me, just the same. We rationed so we could make the provisions last till the harvest. If we could get the fields planted, that is.”

  “When my kinsmen return, they shall see to it,” reassured Jyne. Though Alasdair’s wrinkled face continued to show concern, she could not help but enjoy the presence of the Ranalds. She had finally been given the opportunity to serve as the chatelaine of her own keep.

  Since her arrival at Kinoch, it had been a time of firsts for her. The first time she had sole control to manage her own household. The first time people looked to her to make decisions. Even the first time she had slept in a bedchamber by herself. It had been strange to try to sleep without hearing the gentle breathing—or outright snores—of any number of sisters, cousins, and nieces. When she had finally drifted to sleep, she had happy dreams of running through fields of heather toward a handsome young man who might have looked suspiciously like the Highlander who had saved her from the bog. She woke with a smile on her face.

  Jyne had spent the day getting to know her new people, taking stock of her new domain, and organizing improvements. She even made a tincture, as best she could remember from her sister-in-law’s teachings, to help an elderly man with gout. Finally, she had a place where she could be mistress.

  Jyne stepped sidewise to continue counting sacks of flour, careful not to knock over her new friend. A little orphan named Ina had taken a liking to her and had rarely let go of her skirts, following her about all day. Jyne gave the young girl a smile. The lass hid behind Jyne’s skirts but did not let go. Jyne finished counting sacks of flour and went on to taking inventory of the whiskey.

  “We drank only a wee bit o’ that,” said Alasdair, giving his tam another twist. “Only what was necessary to preserve life.”

  Jyne smiled at him. “O’ course.” It was a rare Highlander indeed who didn’t feel a drop of whiskey now and again was essential for the preservation of life. She continued with her inventory. The Ranalds had been frugal to make the provisions left at Kinoch stretch as far as they had.

  “M’lady! M’lady!” A young boy scurried up to her as fast as he could. “We’re under attack.”

  Jyne’s tranquility shattered like glass. “What say ye?”

  “’Tis the Red Rex!”

  “Nay, ’tis no’ possible. Red Rex is far to the south. Laird Campbell has gone to find him.”

  “Then who be marching at our gates?”

  Jyne turned to Alasdair for a possible explanation, but he appeared as stunned as she felt. Jyne picked up her skirts and ran to the wall walk surrounding the abbey, followed by Donnach. There must be some mistake. Or maybe it was her own kin returning early.

  Breathless from sprinting across the courtyard and up the stone steps to the wall walk, Jyne squinted into the setting sun. On the far side of the field were two dozen warriors galloping toward them at great speed. Her heart sank with the realization that these warriors were not her clan. The leader wore a giant helm with demonic horns.

  “By the saints,” exclaimed Donnach in a grim tone. “’Tis the Red Rex!”

  Jyne watched the approaching riders in shock. Fear squeezed her heart with an icy grip. What was she to do now?

  “Bar the gates!” shouted Donnach.

  Jyne stared mutely at Donnach. Where were her brothers to protect her when she needed them? A small hand clasped hers. She looked down to find Ina holding her hand, her eyes wide in terror. The child’s fear shocked Jyne out of hers. Somehow, she needed to protect these people.

  “Donnach, ye need to ride back home and let David know what’s happened.” Their only hope was to send for help.

  “Nay, I canna leave ye. Yer safety is my responsibility.”

  “I shan’t be safe for verra long wi’out reinforcements. One of us has got to go for help.” Her heart pounded with the rumble of the approaching riders.

  “Aye.” Donnach frowned with concern. “Ye come wi’ me then.”

  Jyne shook her head. “I would only slow ye down. Ye ken I’m no great rider. We’d both be caught. Ye need to go. Quick, before they are upon us!”

  The gates clanked closed, and some of the boys managed to lift a thick log to bar the gates. Jyne was grateful the wall had been one of the first things that had been repaired. She glanced back at the raiders swiftly approaching. She needed to act, and fast.

  “Listen, all o’ ye.” She ran down the wall steps. The elders and children gathered around her, wide-eyed and pale. “We need to set guards on the walk, at least such that it appears this fortress is not entirely unprotected.”

  “One o’ the storerooms has a bunch of old armor in it,” volunteered one of the girls.

  “Verra good. The taller lads and those able-bodied of our elders can pose as warriors. We just need to keep them at bay until help arrives. Is there another way out?” she asked Alasdair, who had hobbled after them and joined them on the walk.

  “Aye, the postern gate.”

  “Good.” She turned to Donnach, who was still shaking his head, the permanent frown of his whiskers even more fierce. “Ye must go for my brother before it is too late. Ye’re our only hope. We need Campbell.”

  Donnach’s shoulders hunched in defeat, and he gave a quick nod. He ran to saddle his courser while Jyne grabbed a bow and a quarrel of arrows and followed Alasdair, little Ina still clutching her skirts. She desperately hoped Donnach could escape, for the attackers were so close, she could hear the thunder of the hooves drawing ever nearer.

  “Ina, please stay with Alasdair.” Jyne took Ina’s hand and gave it to Alasdair, who pointed them in the right direction, unable to keep up with their sprinting pace.

  They ran around the far side of the abbey to a narrow walk that ended in a thick oak door banded with iron bars. Donnach wrenched hard to loosen the old, rusted door, while Jyne held the reins of his mount. The sound of approaching hooves suddenly grew silent.

  “Och, they be at the front gate. Ye must fly, Donnach!” Jyne led the courser out of the small gate, for it was not tall enough for a man to ride through. She held the horse’s head while Donnach mounted, her hands trembling with the reins.

  “Stay safe, and bar the door, or David will have my head!” Donnach kicked his steed and raced away through the woods.

  “Godspeed!” she cried. She watched for a moment as he disappeared into the trees. She turned to run back into the gate but stopped short, her heart frozen in fear.

  A shadowed figure stood between her and the safety of the abbey. In his hand was a knife, the setting sun glinting off the naked blade.

  Jyne gasped, a scream in her throat, until she caught a glimpse of his face. It was none other than the man who had yesterday pulled her from the bog.

  “Jyne?”

  Five

  Jyne stared at the man who had saved her life and wandered shamelessly through her dreams. He was her hero.

  And he was sneaking up on her with a knife.

  He appeared quite taken aback to see her and stared at her openmouthed. She took advantage of his surprise and nocked an arrow, pulling back the bow and aiming right at his heart. She did not let fly but stared at him, unsure.

  “What are ye doing here?” she demanded.

  “Och, I wish I knew,” he muttered to himself. “Easy now, lass. I mean ye no harm.” He slowly sheathed his knife.

  “Then why creep up behind me with a
knife?” Jyne demanded, her heart pounding, unsure if he was friend or foe.

  “I…” He ran a hand through his already wild hair, making it stick up in places. “I do apologize if I scared ye. I…I am a wanderer. I saw these wicked men approach and feared they would do the abbey harm. I came to the side to warn ye.” The man’s words seemed choppy, as if he was nervous or unsure of what to say. Of course, she was threatening him.

  “Who are ye?” asked Jyne, relaxing the bowstring ever so slightly.

  “I am Cormac. My friends call me Core.” He gave her the faintest of smiles.

  “And what do yer enemies call ye?”

  “Ah, that I could’na say to a lady.” His smile widened, and something within her melted. His unruly hair fell over one eye, and he had more than a day or two of stubble on his jaw. The effect was dangerously alluring.

  Jyne lowered her bow. “I am sorry. I feared ye were with those men.”

  A flicker of emotion passed over his face, but was hidden in a smile a moment later. “That would be most unfortunate.”

  “Is it true we are attacked by Red Rex?”

  “No’ Rex, but his son.”

  “No doubt he will be even worse,” said Jyne, her current worries pressing down on her.

  Core sighed. “Aye, ye dinna ken the half of it, lassie.”

  “I am glad ye’re here. I know I am already in yer debt, but I would ask ye for more. Would ye help me again?”

  “I’ve said before, I’m no hero.” Cormac shook his head with a rueful quirk of his lips. “Go back to yer prodigiously large brothers. They can keep ye safe better than I.”

  “But they are no’ here. ’Tis only I.”

  Cormac frowned and stood a little taller. “They left ye alone? What were they thinking? Ye need to get out o’ here. Come quick wi’ me, and I’ll find ye a safe place to hide.”

  “Hide? Nay, I canna leave Kinoch.”

  “Och, lassie, ye must. I have seen what these men can do. Ye’ll no’ be safe here. Ye must come wi’ me now before ye’re seen.” He reached out and grabbed her hand and began to lead her into the forest, but she wrenched her hand away and stood her ground.

  “Nay! I canna leave. There are only elders and children here, wi’ me as their only protector. Will ye no’ help us defend Kinoch against these evil men?”

  Core’s shoulders slumped. He turned back to her with a slightly desperate expression. “Only elders and bairns?”

  “Aye. So ye see why I canna leave.”

  Cormac closed his eyes and gave something of a groan. “They are yer kin? Why would ye be here alone?”

  “They are no’ kin—”

  “Then leave them.”

  “Nay! I canna abandon them!” Her heart pounded in her chest. She could hear the war cries of the brigands who had reached the front gates. The temptation to run away with the handsome man before her was so great she could taste it. Her hands shook, not with fear, but with the effort it took not to run.

  He stood before her, a deep frown etched on his face, as if he was wrestling with an internal struggle.

  Jyne walked up to him and put a hand on his sleeve. He stared at her hand, clean and white compared with his dirty tunic, but did not speak. This close, she could see he was breathing hard. She moved her hand to his chest, placing it over his heart. His breath caught, and he looked down on her with dark eyes burning with intensity. The air crackled between them.

  “I ken ye to be a good man.”

  Cormac shook his head slightly.

  “Ye have a good heart.”

  Core’s face hardened, as if her words hurt him. “Nay, ye dinna ken who I am.”

  “It doesna matter—”

  “It always matters.”

  This man was Jyne’s only potential ally. She was not sure who he was, but she knew he had helped her before, and she needed to convince him to help her again. “It does not matter to me now. Please, please will ye help us?”

  A resigned sigh escaped his lips. “Aye.” She was about to thank him, but with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes, he continued before she could speak. “For a price.”

  It was her turn to frown. She dropped her hand from his chest. Maybe she had been wrong about him. “A price? My brothers can pay ye—”

  “Nay, yer brothers have naught that I want. Ye need to pay me.”

  “I have nothing of value—”

  “A kiss,” he blurted out the words, his eyes wide as if he was surprised he had said them. He schooled his features into nonchalance. “A kiss.”

  “Ye wish to kiss me?” Her pulse quickened.

  His coloring heightened. Was the man…blushing?

  “Ye want for me to kiss ye?” she asked.

  He nodded his head vigorously.

  He was right. This man was no hero. And yet…he was the only man available who could possibly help her. Besides, if he did help her, his life might be cut short. Should she not offer him one last request? She rationalized the shocking request, for she was not immune to the powerful draw between them.

  She stepped even closer and noted the veins in his neck thrumming with a rapid pulse, much the same as her heartbeat. She put a hand on his shoulder and stood on tiptoe. She breathed in his masculine scent, and her heart raced even faster. Slowly, she leaned toward him. He remained frozen, which gave her confidence.

  She pressed her lips on his cheek, thrilling with the feel of his harsh stubble, lingering a moment before withdrawing once more. All the while, he remained motionless.

  “Now will ye help us?” Her voice was breathless.

  He nodded. “I will help ye as I am able,” he whispered.

  “Thank ye.” She stepped back, unsure what to do now. It seemed like they had been talking forever, but in truth, it had been only a few minutes. The sounds of the war cries once again assailed her ears. They could not dawdle here.

  “Please, ye must come in to the abbey before they catch us.” Jyne showed him the door on the side of the wall, hidden behind some thick brush.

  Cormac blinked twice, as if awaking from a dream. “Nay, I can help ye more from outside. I will try to disrupt them as best I can, while ye defend the keep. Focus on defending the main gate.”

  “I will.” She stared at him for a moment, then stepped up to him and pressed another quick, warm kiss on his other cheek. “I fear one kiss was insufficient payment for my request o’ ye. I hope ye consider yerself well compensated now.”

  He placed a hand over his cheek as if to keep the kiss from fading away. “I have been given beyond anything I deserve.”

  “Then make sure ye earn it!” She smiled at him.

  He returned the smile before the look of concern returned. “Go now. Get inside. Stay safe.”

  “Thank ye. Wi’ yer help, all shall be well. Ye’ve given me reason to hope!” She gave him one last smile before running back inside, locking the postern gate behind her.

  Kinoch Abbey was under attack, her life and those around her were at risk, but she could not wipe the smile from her face. Despite the gravity of her situation, all she could think about was her first kiss.

  Her first kiss.

  * * *

  Cormac smiled at the lovely Jyne as she retreated into the gate. Her blond hair was plaited in one long braid that fell over one shoulder. She turned and glanced at him once more. Her face was flawless in the cool twilight. Her blue eyes were large and framed with long eyelashes. One look at her, and he was lost.

  She gave him a hopeful smile and closed and locked the gate. He continued to smile at the closed door before coming to his senses. What was he doing? He leaned back on a tree trunk, then turned and hit his head on the tree a few times. Maybe it would knock some sense into him.

  He truly was a despicable man. Red Rex should be pleased; he was every inch the bastard his father
was. No, Core was worse. At least Rex did not pretend to be an ally and then stab you in the back. His father preferred the more direct route of stabbing you in the eye. At least you could see it coming.

  Whatever his wishes, Core was the villain in this scenario. He needed to play out his role. And yet, one thing was certain. He would do his utmost to shield Jyne from harm. But how could he protect her? Oh, and the monks, and the books too…

  Core took a deep breath. He needed to think clearly. This was a tight place, but he had been in difficult situations before. He had always been able to reason his way out of them. He just needed to focus, something made difficult by the fact that her kisses still tingled on his cheeks. And was that perfume she was wearing or just the fragrant smell of a clean human being? She was a lovely lady…

  Think! He needed to think. He inspected the small oak door further. He might be able to breach it. If his father could see the potential of his experiments, the power of alchemy, then maybe Rex would forget all about the treasure and his threats to burn the books of the monastery.

  Cormac smiled to himself. He grabbed his discarded helmet and headed back to his men. For the first time since being called before his father, he felt like he had the beginnings of a plan. Maybe with some luck, he could redirect his father’s men away from Kinoch and the bonnie Jyne and whatever poor people she was protecting.

  It was a slim chance. But it was all he had.

  Six

  Cormac returned to the brigands who were preparing to take the abbey. Kinoch was surrounded by a thick wall, but was not prepared for battle like a proper fortress would be. Darkness settled on the valley as the last ray of sunlight vanished behind the horizon. Core could barely make out dark figures on the wall walk, but he knew one of them must be Jyne.

  Core sighed. Jyne was in more danger now than when she had been on the moor. Walls could be breached. The men of Red Rex had no end of unpleasant methods of doing so. They could rush forward with ladders and swords drawn, use a battering ram to break down the front gate, or even use a catapult to toss in rotting animal flesh to induce sickness in the inhabitants.