The Rebel of Clan Kincaid

by Lily Blackwood

  “Well, then,” Magnus muttered, turning to face his brother, all emotion struck from his face. “That saves us a bit of trouble and time, then, doesn’t it? Let us go over our plans, in more detail. Look here, on this map, and see where even now, we have stationed troops.”

  *

  Tara dressed herself in the dark gray kirtle the charming Lady Kincaid had left for her. Just moments before, the lady and her servants had departed the chamber, leaving her in a night rail, and cozily tucked into bed.

  But she couldn’t sleep, or even rest. Not in this unfamiliar place.

  When she had spoken to the Kincaid earlier, her cloak covered in mud, he had not agreed to any of her requests. He had promised no sanctuary or to provide her safe passage to Elgin. He had only regarded her in a quietly terrifying manner that somehow reminded her of Magnus, although the two were enemies, and most certainly nothing at all alike, Magnus being so muscular and fair-haired, and the Kincaid, so dark and stalwart. But she could not sleep until she knew he would provide her with an escort, at dawn’s first light, so that she could safely get far away from here.

  She moved silently down the corridor and approached the room where the Kincaid had met her, but heard voices talking quietly. She couldn’t quite understand what they said, but she thought she heard the words Buchan and Burnbryde.

  That voice … it made her body go alert, and compelled her to move closer. Magnus?

  Every muscle in her body seized tight as she stepped closer, and peered inward. The two men stood side by side at the table, looking at something—the map she’d seen when she’d been in the room earlier.

  Why was Magnus here, standing there beside the Kincaid, speaking with such easy familiarity?

  “I would place men here … and here,” said Magnus. “With couriers on horses, ready to bring word to you on any changes they observe in the positioning of the earl’s men.”

  “What about here?” asked the Kincaid, pointing.

  Magnus shrugged, but nodded. “If you’ve the men to spare.”

  “We do have men to spare. They are your forces as well, to command at your will. I will make the announcement today to my captains, so there will be no question of our support for you.”

  The words Tara heard made no sense, but the two men weren’t enemies, that much was clear. They plotted something together. Something that involved warriors, and borders, against not only the Alwyn—but Buchan as well. Magnus had told her something was underway, and she’d instinctively known he meant something dangerous but never in her life had she imagined that he plotted a rebellion against his father with another laird.

  “What does that mean?” she said from the door.

  They turned to look at her.

  She stepped forward, moving toward them. “What does it mean, Magnus, that the Kincaid’s forces are yours to command as well?”

  And then she saw it. That while the two men were indeed very different, one dark, the other fair … they looked very much the same.

  “You are—” She covered her mouth with her hands.

  Magnus stared at her, his lips unsmiling.

  “Brothers.” He moved toward her, wearing the eyes of a stranger. “I am the second son of the murdered Kincaid. The Alwyn, through his treachery, is responsible for the deaths of our mother and father, our younger brother, and many of our kinsmen. The loss of our lands. And soon, he will know our vengeance. Buchan as well, for it is almost certain he was involved.”

  Brothers. He was not the bastard son of the Laird Alwyn, but a Kincaid. For a moment, her spirit rose up in support of him, this man she loved. Or … had loved.

  “You were going to bring me here,” she concluded. “These are the people of whom you spoke. The people you trusted.”

  Was that why he’d made love to her? Seduced her? Pretended to want and protect her, so he could control her and in that way, keeping her from truly escaping. Ensuring that Buchan would come—if not to Burnbryde, then here, to Inverhaven? Had she been nothing but bait? A lure, to draw his enemy forth?

  She didn’t want to believe he could be that calculating, but even now he stared at her without any trace of warmth, as if she meant nothing to him. As if he did not even know her. It broke her heart, even more than it was already broken after finding him with the two women in his bed.

  She would not allow herself to be drawn into this. She would not be destroyed, in some battle to the death between men filled with hate.

  She straightened her shoulders. “I don’t much care what the two of you are plotting. All I ask is that I be conveyed away from here, as soon as possible. Indeed, I would leave at first light if you can spare just a few horses and men to accompany me. I am willing to pay well for them.”

  “With what?” Magnus demanded tersely.

  She pulled her mother’s necklace from her throat.

  “You came prepared, I see,” he said in a softly taunting voice. He stepped closer, so close she felt the heat of his flame-hot blue gaze. “Do ye know, I was … very concerned for your safety tonight, after you disappeared. I … did not know if you had been abducted, or something worse. But now … seeing you here, I don’t see that you and I have anything more to say to each other.” He backed away and turned to the Kincaid. “If my brother agrees to your terms, I won’t stop you.”

  The Kincaid looked between the two of them and laughed. “That is not how this story will unfold. Now that Buchan is here, I’m reluctant to stray from our plan. There is only one course of action, and we shall hold to it.”

  “A plan?” Tara asked. “What is that plan, and what could I possibly have to do with it now that Buchan is here, exactly where you wish him to be?”

  She bristled, knowing she had been part of the plot all along, without her knowledge. The fire crackled.

  The Kincaid looked at her. “You will return to Burnbryde.”

  Her stomach clenched at the idea of returning to that smothering place. “I can’t. I won’t. Why would you even ask it of me? He is here, now. Encamped outside Rackamoor, practically at Burnbryde’s front steps. You have no need of me anymore.”

  Tara kept her eyes focused on the laird, but felt Magnus’s gaze on her, darkly accusing.

  “I’m very sorry, Mistress Iverach.” The Kincaid looked at her with what appeared to be sincere sympathy. “I have no wish to distress you, or make you feel endangered in any way. But understand that I and my brother are singular in our desire to exact justice on behalf of our murdered parents, and our kinsmen. I know Buchan better than you do, I vow.” The Kincaid walked slowly, between them both, in measured steps. “He’s a mercurial bastard, and if he learns you are gone, and that there will be no wedding, I would not be surprised if he severs his alliance with the Alwyn, and takes all his men and leaves, just like that. We can’t let that happen. I promise you will have safe passage to the priory at Elgin. After you help us.”

  “But I cannot marry Hugh,” she choked out.

  “You won’t have to marry him. I promise you that.”

  “You won’t be there,” she exclaimed. “How can you say I won’t be forced? How could you stop it?”

  “I offer a solution. A very good one, if I must say.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “You will marry Magnus instead. Here, tonight. Before you return to Burnbryde.”

  Magnus’s head snapped up.

  “What?” he thundered, scowling.

  “Marry Magnus!” Tara exclaimed. “Why would I do that?”

  “You cannot marry Hugh if you are already married to another man. If a wedding takes place, the vows will not bind you, once the truth is known.”

  “But Hugh won’t know the wedding is invalid. He will expect a wedding night.” She closed her eyes. “I can’t.”

  “And you won’t. Again, if a wedding is indeed to take place, Magnus will send word, and our army will demand the immediate and full attention of the laird and his son, and your guardian, before night falls. I promise you that. There
will be no wedding night. To further assure you, once the armies amass at the borderlands, and Burnbryde’s castle is left to the care of lesser warriors, I will send a company of men to escort you straightaway to freedom.”

  “How do you expect to do that?” she demanded, doubting his words. Doubting everything. “Do you think the Alwyns will just let me leave?”

  Niall scowled, and held silent for a long moment. “I have one of Buchan’s banners, from my years spent in his service, which will be flown by my men when they approach Burnbryde, and I know how to write a very official, command, which will appear to come from Buchan to release you to his protection.”

  His plan would work, she believed. She hoped. The Alywns would do anything to please the earl.

  Still, she scowled. “I don’t want to marry Magnus.”

  “And I don’t want to marry you,” Magnus retorted, his eyes aflame.

  The Kincaid spoke in a tone of patience. “The marriage won’t be binding. Once it is all done, you will be delivered safe and unharmed to the priory, as you have requested, and both of you can request that the marriage then be annulled. We can all swear that you were wed under duress, and that no consummation took place.”

  Tara felt warmth diffusing through her cheeks, remembering otherwise.

  “I won’t do it,” she whispered.

  The Kincaid smiled at her. “Mistress Iverach … think about it. I’m afraid you don’t have any choice. What say you, Magnus? Are you ready to take a bride in the name of our cause?”

  “Fine,” Magnus hissed, clearly annoyed. “Let it be done, and quickly. If we are to return to Burnbryde before morning reveals us, we must depart posthaste.”

  “It is true what you said,” Tara declared. “I do this under duress.”

  A priest was summoned, and a sleepy-eyed Lady Kincaid, who stood in her night rail and shawl beside Tara through the brief ceremony, during which Magnus impassively held her limp hand.

  After, the Laird and Lady Kincaid accompanied them into the courtyard where the horses waited, as well as a small company of men—led by the tattooed warrior who had apologized so profusely for startling her horse earlier, causing her to be unseated.

  To her surprise, she saw Gilroy there among them.

  “Gilroy!” she exclaimed.

  Magnus’s hand went to his sword, but Niall lifted a staying hand. “With everything that has happened tonight, I forgot about Gilroy. He had renounced his loyalty to the Alwyn, and is now a sworn and loyal Kincaid.”

  “He is not to be trusted,” Magnus growled. “He attacked Tara and thieved from her.”

  “Nay, I tried tae frighten her away,” said the old man.

  “Why?” demanded Magnus.

  “I did not wish to see the same fate befall her as befell her poor sister.”

  Her heart pounding, she moved close to him. “What fate is that?”

  “I dinna know. I canna say. I can only tell ye that she wasn’t ill that morning when she left the tower. The fever was a story the lady made up, because the girl never returned. Somethin’ happened to her, I fear. Something terrible. The lie they told, it burdened my heart to be part of it, and when I heard her sister was to come, I did what I could to make her want to turn around and flee. Only you arrived and thwarted me plan.” He looked at Magnus then.

  At last. At last she knew her sister had not died in that tower fever, as everyone had told her.

  “Her sister died there. Was possibly murdered. By whom, we do not know for certain, though I suspect I know.” Magnus looked at his brother, his expression stern. “No, Niall. She stays here, where it is safe. I will return to Burnbryde and when she is discovered missing, I will—”

  Tara strode past them both, and took the reins of a horse. “Nay, Magnus. I must have my confession. Just as you must have yours.”

  “You could be harmed, Tara,” he called to her, angry now.

  “So could you. I make my choice to return, just as you make yours.”

  There was silence all around, as she climbed into the saddle.

  Magnus clenched his jaw, clearly turned to his brother. “When it happens, it will happen quickly.”

  “We will be ready,” Niall answered.

  Magnus looked at Tara, his eyes reflecting the torchlight—making him seem distant and inhuman. Certainly not the man she had known.

  “Come,” he said brusquely. “We haven’t much time.”

  Despite the vows they’d just spoken, she could not think of him as her husband. Not when they had both clearly indicated their intention to nullify the union as soon as possible. She felt just as alone as before.

  They rode out of the gates, into the pitch darkness of the night. She gathered her cloak around her, shivering from the cold, fearing she’d be frozen by the time they arrived at Burnbryde. Suddenly he was there, circling back to ride beside her, his face stark in the night, and his breath puffing from his mouth and nostrils.

  “I know these lands as well in the dark as in the light of day,” he said gruffly. “Give me the reins, and I will lead the animal along the proper path.”

  “I can ride well enough without your help,” she retorted.

  “Just give me the reins,” he demanded, in a tone of impatience.

  When she did not give them over, he reached and seized them from her hands.

  “Magnus!” she cried, looking at him. “Have you nothing at all to say to me?”

  She wanted him to say something meaningful. Something sincere. She wanted an apology for having been used. For having been seduced and kept in a place of danger to further the Kincaid cause.

  He circled around once more, drawing up beside her again, so close their legs brushed.

  “Aye, I have something t’ say,” he gritted out between clenched teeth, his burr thick and laden with fury. “Those words I said to you when we were alone together … the things we did in your bed.…” His eyes glittered in the night. “They meant something to me. What in the hell did they mean to you?”

  In that moment she knew the truth. That until she’d run away from Rackamoor, his heart had belonged to her completely, just as he’d sworn that night when they first made love. She was given no opportunity to respond. He jabbed his heels into his horse’s side, had sped forward, leading her horse by the reins, at such a speed she could only hold fast to the pommel, and clench her thighs so as not to be thrown off.

  They continued at the same hard pace until they arrived at Burnbryde, stopping once they reached the cemetery. Already, the sky lightened to lavender with early dawn, which only heightened the anxiety Tara felt, that they might be discovered together, that everything would fall apart. They left their horses and Tara followed Magnus on foot, her feet crunching over the frosted ground. At his lead, they stealthily darted into the shadow of the castle wall when the watchmen above made his paces in the opposite direction.

  They stole into the shadowed crevice and approached the secret passageway, which would lead to her room.

  He hoisted the ladder, and lowered it into place. In doing so he pushed back his cloak, and she saw the gleam of his dagger at his waist—and she knew, without a doubt, that no matter how angry he was with her, he would kill to protect her.

  But not because he cared for her, not anymore. Frozen and exhausted, she could only watch him, her heart aching at the sight of his height and his strength—and his stark, drawn features. Despite everything, she wanted nothing more than his arms around her, to feel his warmth, and his kiss. And yet his gaze did not so much as touch upon her.

  “Magnus,” she said. “I ran away from you at Rackamoor because I saw Buchan’s army, and I was afraid. But also … also because I came to your window to see you, the morning after the hunting party returned, and I knocked … but it wasn’t you who answered, though I know you were there.”

  At first, his countenance did not change. Then … the meaning of her words registered. He closed his eyes and his lips pressed thin.

  “Kyla and Laire.” H
is eyes opened, ablaze. “Tara, no. It wasn’t like that. Hugh’s man Ferchar attacked them during the evening feast, and I only gave them a safe place to stay for the night, where they would not be harmed. I’ve known them both since we were children.”

  Did she believe him? She thought so, and it pained her heart that she’d misunderstood and come to the wrong conclusion, but at the same time, certainly he had to concede how it had looked to her, and how any reasonable explanation would be hard to surmise.

  “What else was I to believe?” she said, pressing her hands to her lips. Tears flooded her eyes.

  “Not that.”

  “I discovered you with two women in your bed.”

  “You should have told me, instead of thinking the worst of me.”

  “Told you? And risked my one remaining chance for escape? No, Magnus. Not knowing if I could trust you, I chose to keep silent and protect myself.”

  “We’ve no time to argue over this. Not now. You first,” he said brusquely, guiding her onto the first rung. “Wait for me there, after you unlock the gate. I want to be certain no one is there waiting. That no one has discovered your absence in the night.”

  She climbed, and pulled the key, worn at her throat with her mother’s necklace. A moment later and they were both inside, climbing the narrow passage to her room.

  Holding her aside, Magnus went first, crouching and pushing open the door and the tapestry, guiding her with his hand, as she followed.

  And yet Tara gasped at the first thing she saw upon entering the room.

  Anna stood beside the hearth, in a heavy woolen night robe, her pale night rail peeking out, staring wide-eyed back at them.

  Chapter 14

  “Where have you been?” Anna hissed. “Oh, it doesn’t matter. I won’t tell. I won’t tell anyone, but you must leave—” She rushed toward them, waving her hands, shooing Magnus away. “Before someone sees you.”

  Magnus turned to her, his expression grave, speaking words only she would hear. “I won’t ask you to trust me again, Tara. I think we can both agree that’s been lost between us. Just be careful, Tara, and know that I’ll do my best to protect you.”