His Highland Heart

by Willa Blair

  “Partly from the wreck and being on my own without food for a few days. But it was also one of the ways that she-devil tried to break me,” Eduard admitted.

  “Let’s get ye out of here and gone. We’ll feed ye on the firth.”

  Eduard nodded and followed Euan to the door. Euan looked out. Nothing moved, and his men had not signaled with an owl’s hoot to warn of trouble coming. He stepped over the guard and helped Eduard do the same, then silently pulled the door closed and latched it. With luck, no one would miss Eduard until well after the sun came up and they were nearly home.

  They made the trip back to the hidden skiff quietly, delayed only by one patrol that never knew they were there but passed within ten heart-stopping feet of where they’d paused when they heard voices. Euan had held them frozen in place for long minutes after to make sure the patrol was truly gone and would not hear them when they moved.

  Even the sail across the firth seemed favored by the lady of the firth, with a following wind and calm sea. They beached the boat at sunrise and entered the Brodie keep before any but Cook and her helpers were up.

  “This man needs a good meal before we can send him home to his wife,” Euan announced as they entered her domain. Cook had her back to them and whirled about with a shriek, then lay a hand on her ample bosom and smiled. “Ye scairt me half to death!” she exclaimed, then came forward to embrace Eduard. “But ye found my lost man, bless ye.”

  Eduard rolled his eyes at Euan.

  “They didna feed him,” Euan informed her. She stepped back and studied Eduard.

  “I see that. Ye’ve lost a stone, I’d hazard. More than is good for ye.” She pointed to her work table. “Sit, and I’ll see ye fed.”

  “Thank ye,” Eduard told her as he obeyed. “The food the lads brought with them didna last long.”

  “Dinna fash, I ken what ye like.” She gave him a saucy wink.

  Euan nearly choked.

  Cook bustled about and started laying things in front of Eduard. Bread, cheese and ale appeared first, then apples, honey and a whole salted fish. “That should get ye started,” she told him.

  Eduard chuckled around a mouth full of bread and honey and nodded.

  “I’ll leave ye to it, then,” Euan said. “’Tis time I told Iain of yer return. I dinna think he’ll mind being awakened for this news.”

  “No’ so fast, laddie,” Cook told him. “Ye are here. Ye will eat with Eduard before ye go anywhere.” She crossed her arms, a heavy wooden spoon in one fist.

  Euan knew when he was beaten. Besides, he was hungry. He sat.

  An hour later, full to bursting, he left Eduard in his wife’s care, made his way to the door of the laird’s chambers and knocked.

  In moments, Iain opened the door wearing his shirt and nothing else. “What’s amiss? Ah, ’tis ye. Did ye get him?”

  “Aye.”

  “Were ye seen?”

  “Nay.”

  “Good. Bring Eduard and the two who went with ye to my solar in another hour. Muireall and Ella, too.”

  Euan nodded.

  Without another word, Iain shut the door.

  Euan breathed a sigh of relief. Still alive, still breathing. Iain had dismissed him so quickly, chances were he’d interrupted Iain and Annie. His timing couldn’t have been better, with Iain eager to get back to his bride.

  But when they met later? He shuddered and went to round up his two companions and waken Muireall. She’d want a few minutes to get presentable before meeting with the laird. He returned to the kitchen last, wanting to give Eduard time to warm himself in the kitchen and eat his fill.

  Eduard pushed his platter away as Euan entered. “I canna eat another bite,” he announced. “Thank ye, love. I think I’ll live now.”

  “I should hope so. Ye put away enough for two men, ye did.” She favored him with a broad grin. “It does my heart good to see ye home and hale, husband.”

  “Iain wants us,” Euan informed him with a nod to Cook.

  Eduard stood. “Then we’d best go, aye?”

  Cook shooed them out of her domain.

  Euan could hear the rumble of voices as they neared Iain’s solar. He paused at the door and grimaced at Eduard. The Council was in there, too.

  Iain stood when they entered, went to Eduard and embraced him. “’Tis good to have ye back.”

  “’Tis good to be back,” Eduard replied with a rueful grin. “Thanks for sending a rescue party.”

  Iain looked chagrined and returned to his worktable. “As to that…” he started and pinned Euan with a steely glare. “This particular rescue party had no’ been authorized to make the trip.”

  Euan did his level best to look guilty. Better the Council punish him than Iain.

  “What?” Eduard paled and abruptly sat in the nearest chair. “Silas Ross was about to kill me.”

  “We didna actually save him,” Euan broke in. “Erik Ross did that.” Before the council started demanding a war, best they know the new Ross leader was not cut from the same cloth as his predecessor.

  Iain raised an eyebrow and settled back in his chair. “Go on.”

  “There was an argument, as ye might imagine. Then a scuffle. Erik Ross made every effort to keep from harming Silas. When it was done, she was bleeding. Somewhere in the course of the fight, she stabbed herself with her own dirk. A few hours later, Erik forced a vote and took over as chief. Ross is his now. If he can hold it. Silas still has men…if she lives.”

  “As does Erik,” Eduard interjected. “More than she has, I think. Or had. They’ll watch his back.”

  “We can hope. ’Tis my belief he’ll be a better leader than Donas or Silas,” Euan agreed.

  “And did he happen to mention his position on the small matter of the death of Donas Ross?” Iain slapped a hand on his table, snapping their attention back to him.

  “Aye. That we owe compensation…”

  Iain winced.

  “If no’ a life…” Eduard added. “Though Erik seemed less bent on revenge than the widow. He mentioned wondering how we’d respond once we got…me…back.”

  “And now that we no longer have to trade for him…” Euan began, but Iain cut him off.

  “Erik will face pressure from his clan, and no’ just Silas’s men. He’ll have to prove his strength and leadership. What better way than by taking on Brodie?”

  Euan knew Iain well enough to know he’d thought about that before sending Euan across the firth. Getting Eduard back had been more important. “We overheard discussion about that,” Euan offered. “They know we have allies, and they dinna expect the Earl to come to their aid. So they’ll be reluctant to start something that will go against them.”

  Muireall and Ella had entered a few moments before and sat to the side, while the discussion went on, watching with more than a passing interest.

  “I may have a solution that will satisfy Erik Ross,” Muireall said when the discussion hit a lull.

  Iain’s head whipped around, and he stared at her as if he’d forgotten she was in the room.

  “Indeed?”

  If anyone other than Iain had used that tone, Euan would have flattened him for speaking to Muireall with such disbelief and dismissal. But Iain had a right—and a responsibility. They’d caused this problem and risked compounding it by the trip to rescue Eduard. Iain held the safety and future prosperity of Brodie in his hands. He had to question anything from an outsider that affected his duty to the clan. He would distrust anything that seemed too pat, too easy.

  Muireall forced herself to her feet as every gaze in the room swung to her. She could do this. She could stand before the Brodie laird and council and offer them a way to avoid war. She owed it to them, for Euan’s rescue of her. And she didn’t think Erik would mind if she betrayed his confidence for this.

  She took a breath. “I ken who Erik wants to marry—and it wasna me. If ye ken the right people and can stomach a bit of matchmaking, ye may be able to arrange a trade that will satisfy E
rik. A life, not a death, to build relations with Ross.”

  Most of the council started grumbling and turned away. Aye, it was a woman’s solution, an appeal to Erik’s heart. But none of these men had seen Erik’s face, the day he’d told her he’d never marry her. The frustration and sadness and longing in his eyes and in his voice when he named Fiona Rose. If Iain would take her seriously, her suggestion might get them out of the trap the storm had led them into.

  She lifted her chin and locked gazes with Iain. His expression was solemn, but she could sense the sharp intelligence behind his midnight eyes. For a moment, his gaze left her and connected with Euan, but she barely had time to breathe before it returned to her, skewering her in place.

  “Who?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Who is the lass ye say Erik Ross wants to wed?”

  “Her name is Fiona. Fiona Rose.”

  “Rose?” Iain looked dumbstruck. She could almost hear his mind work as he shuffled through the possibilities, the different courses of action—and their consequences. Then he gestured to the man nearest the door. “Fetch my wife, if ye would.”

  Muireall watched the man go with a frown. Of course, Iain’s wife might ken the lass. Annie was a Rose before she married the Brodie laird.

  The rumble of conversation in the room grew louder as they waited. Finally, one of the men spoke above the noise. “I say we fight. They tried to kill our shipwreck survivors, and held Eduard hostage.”

  Apparently, his comment emboldened another man to speak up. “Matchmaking? Pah! We’ll look like weaklings.”

  “Aye,” another agreed. “Better we go down fighting than arranging marriages for our enemies.”

  Muireall crossed her arms, waiting for some reaction from Iain, but he just let them talk. She wondered why, until another man spoke up.

  “So ye dinna mind seeing yer sons killed, is that what we’re saying? Or yer wives…well, there’s a lass in the room so I willna say it. But ye ken fine what comes of war with another clan, and how the lasses suffer. We’re better to avoid it if we can.”

  The door opened after that comment. Annie Brodie came in and scanned the room. Her eyebrows went up in surprise when she spotted Muireall and Ella among the men. Then she found her husband and smiled. “Ye sent for me?”

  Iain held out a hand to her. She moved to him as he answered. “Aye. We’ve had an interesting bit of news. It seems the solution to our problem with Ross may be love, no’ war.”

  “Well, that is refreshing.”

  A few of the council chuckled.

  “So, why do you need me?”

  “Do ye ken a lass named Fiona Rose?”

  “Aye, of course. What has she to do with…”

  “Muireall tells us Erik Ross wishes to wed the lass. If we could arrange the match for him, it might give us a way to build good will with the new Ross chief and avoid hostilities.”

  Annie’s shoulders had slumped while Iain spoke. She glanced at Muireall, then turned back to her husband and shook her head. “Unless something has changed since we returned from Rose, Fiona is still betrothed to a MacBean. Surely someone would have mentioned if that had changed.”

  “So we fight,” the man who’d earlier called for battle spoke into the sudden silence. “Doing aught else was a daft idea to begin with.”

  Iain pressed his lips together. “Are ye sure, Annie?”

  “Aye. I’m sorry.”

  “Is it a love match?” Ella spoke up.

  Annie shook her head. “Nay, I dinna believe so. It was arranged years ago to strengthen the ties between Rose and MacBean. As far as I ken, the two were betrothed as children and have never met since.”

  “Perhaps…” Muireall said, then covered her mouth with her fingers.

  “Go on,” Iain invited.

  She glanced at Euan, who nodded his encouragement.

  “Perhaps if ye were to intercede with the Rose…on Erik Ross’s behalf. If something else can be worked out…some other match for the MacBean lad…”

  “’Tis worth a try,” Euan said, his voice surprising her. He’d stayed quiet up to this point. “Many of the Rosses are glad Donas and Silas are out of power. Erik seems more level-headed…”

  “If ye do this for him, it would go a long way,” Ella said, finally joining the conversation.

  “My father will no’ break a betrothal agreement,” Annie said.

  “No’ without a very good reason,” Iain amended. “Which this is. Rose would be drawn into any clan war Ross starts.” Iain turned his gaze to Muireall. “Did Erik say he’s met this Fiona, and whether she returns his interest?”

  “He did. In Inverness, he said, before I arrived.” She pursed her lips, then continued. “He intended to defy Donas to wed her. Now that Donas is no longer in charge, it willna take him long to offer for her.”

  Iain and Annie exchanged a glance.

  “Well…it appears I’ll see my da again sooner than I expected,” Annie announced.

  “And if ye return us to Munro, Ella and I can tell them Tira is fine, aye?”

  “Ye could, but ’tis still a bad idea, lass. Until we ken what has happened to them…or hasna.”

  Her heart sank. Iain had appeared interested and impressed by the help she offered. But taking her home was one suggestion too many, it seemed.

  “Send the lass home,” one of the men interjected. “She can do more good there than here.”

  “And if it comes to a fight with Ross, she’ll be safely out of harm’s way,” Euan added.

  Annie’s gaze shifted from her to Iain, who shrugged.

  Muireall didn’t know how to interpret his shrug, but apparently Annie did.

  “’Tis the right thing to do,” she told her husband. “As soon as our lads return, if the news is good, let the lass return home. She needs to see all is well there.”

  “She needs to stay out of Ross hands.” Iain answered.

  “I can get them there safely,” Euan said, standing.

  Muireall wanted to hug him.

  “At the dark of the moon,” he continued, “in the skiff with the dark sails—the very one we just used to retrieve Eduard—they’ll never see us, even if one of their ships passes right by us.”

  “And if they do, they’ll kill ye and anyone with ye. Or keep the lasses and do worse.”

  “No worse than was already done to me,” Ella’s voice rang out. Muireall squeezed her hand, shocked that she would lay claim in public to how she was treated.

  “Maybe now that Erik is chief, they’ll lose interest in raiding, whether for brides or anything else.” Euan lifted his chin. “I can do it. Ye ken I can.”

  Iain glanced aside at Annie, then back to the council members. “Ye are all for this fool stunt?”

  A few nodded, a few said, “Nay.”

  “Very well. We have a week until the new moon. Annie, in the meantime, I’ll send Kenneth with ye to Rose. Ye must do yer best to talk yer father into this scheme.” He held up a hand as the warmonger in the council started to object. “I’ll smooth things over with the MacBean. If all goes well, by the time ye lasses can leave, we’ll ken whether we have a chance of making this work—or no’.”

  Muireall couldn’t believe it. A week! If the news was good, she was going home in a week.

  Euan knew, despite how reluctant he’d sounded, once Brodie fishing boats had sailed the firth and returned unmolested, Iain would agree to send Muireall home. They had only Silas’s envoy’s word that Ross wanted to even the score. Erik had other priorities. So far, everything had stayed quiet.

  But swaying the Rose to wed Fiona to Erik was good insurance. None of them knew what kind of pressure Erik was under from Silas’s men. A goodwill gesture might well prevent a war.

  The only part of this he didn’t like was sending Muireall home. He’d promised, and she needed to know her people were unharmed. He understood that. But he was coming to realize taking her to make sure her people were unharmed was different than leaving h
er behind and sailing away.

  He walked out of the meeting with her, then pulled her aside and allowed the rest to pass by.

  “Ye ken I will take ye home,” he told her once they were alone in the hallway, “but it doesna mean I want to any longer, or that ye have to remain. Return with me, lass.”

  Her eyes went wide.

  “Ye just said I’d be safer on Munro land.”

  “Perhaps. But war with Ross is just as likely at Munro as it is here. And Munro is easier for Ross to raid, as ye ken fine.”

  She crossed her arms and shuddered. “Ye dinna have to remind me.”

  Euan took her hand. “I hate the thought of losing ye, lass. Since I hauled ye out of the firth, I’ve been responsible for ye.” He hesitated, not sure how to tell her what he was feeling. “How will I care for ye if I am here, and ye are there?” For a moment, he thought a shadow passed over her eyes, then she smiled.

  “That’s the way if it, Euan. I’m glad ye saved me, but that does mean ye must protect me for the rest of our lives. Someday, I’ll have a husband to do that.”

  If only he were more sure of himself—and of her. He wanted her. Beyond that, he didn’t know what he felt. He cared for her, but did that mean he should ask her now for her hand? Or would it be kinder to let her return to a life she knew, to people she loved, and court her from afar? It wouldn’t be easy, but it could be done.

  On the other hand, when he met her father, he could offer to marry her. The thought had a certain attraction, but it wasn’t fair. Her family would be emotional about getting her back. She would need time at home without the pressure to marry right away. Nay, she wasn’t ready to wed. Nor did he think he was. He let go of her hand.

  She looked down at hers as if seeing it for the first time.

  Or perhaps looking for signs of warmth left behind by his hand. He still felt her warmth in his.

  “I care for ye, too, ye ken,” she added. “And I will miss ye. But I miss my family. And Georgie. I have obligations there. Ye must understand.”

  Aye, Georgie. And obligations. Those he did understand, all too well. Still, ridiculous as it was, if he didn’t know better, he’d think his feelings were hurt. He thought she cared for him—deeply. But she didn’t—not more than she cared for a wee lad, and not enough to want to stay.