His Highland Heart

by Willa Blair

  Muireall and Euan returned from riding in time for the midday meal. “I’ll help ye with my mount,” she offered, but Euan waved her aside.

  “Dinna fash, love. I can do both in the time ’twill take ye to do one.” He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in for a kiss that held much less heat than the kisses they’d shared away from the keep. “If ye like,” he added when they broke apart, “send Georgie to help me. Then ye will have at least a few minutes to yerself.”

  “Thank ye, I will. He doesna let me out of his sight unless ’tis to be with ye,” Muireall responded and ran a hand down his cheek. “By the time I get cleaned up, ’twill be time to eat, so dinna let him slow ye too much.”

  “Nothing will slow me from coming to ye.” Euan grinned and turned her toward the door, then pushed her away with a pat on her rump. “So go on with ye, and send him out.”

  Muireall crossed the bailey still wearing the contented smile she always seemed to have in Euan’s presence, when she heard horses approaching.

  Thomas Ross rode in with a dozen men.

  She didn’t stop to think. She just ran for the door of the keep. In the great hall, she saw Ella climbing the stairs to the upper level. “Ella,” she shouted. “Get out of sight! Fast!” She ran to Ella and pushed her up the last few steps and into the upper hall.

  “Have ye gone barmy?” Ella objected, pushing her away.

  “Thomas is here with a dozen men. Ye have to hide. Somewhere no one will look for ye.”

  “Oh, God, nay…where? Where can I hide?”

  “On the roof,” Muireall told her after a flash of memory put her on the Brodie roof with Euan in the moonlight. “Everyone kens ye dinna like heights. They’ll never look for ye there.”

  “I canna!”

  “Ye must. Thomas has to be here for ye. Why else would he come?”

  Ella wrung her hands.

  “Look, I’ll go up with ye. If ye stay seated behind the low wall, no one will see ye, and ye willna be able to see beyond it. And ye’ll be able to hear when they leave.” She pushed Ella toward the closet with the ladder to the roof. “We must go now!”

  Ella finally moved and Muireall breathed a sigh of relief. She could hear voices down in the great hall, but they all still sounded like Munro men. They’d probably just heard about the Ross’s arrival. She started up the ladder, Ella right below her. The trap door to the roof was heavier than she expected. Euan had opened his so easily. But she got it open, though she was certain the entire keep heard the thunk when it fell onto the roof above. But she didn’t stop. She climbed out, then on hands and knees, reached for Ella.

  But Ella had stopped halfway up the ladder.

  “Come on, Ella. Ye can do it!”

  “Nay, I canna.”

  “Would ye rather go back to Ross with Thomas?”

  Ella’s former betrothed had made it clear he would not honor their marriage contract. She’d been ruined, as he put it, by being forced to marry Thomas Ross. Muireall’s heart broke for her. Now that Dermott had made the reason for his refusal publicly and abundantly clear, Muireall couldn’t even look at him without wanting to scratch out his eyes. But when Ella saw him, all Muireall saw in her was sadness, not anger. She’d given up. But Muireall couldn’t let her give up where Thomas Ross was concerned. Even if she had to frighten her in to moving.

  Ella’s eyes widened and tears glinted. She pulled herself up two more rungs, then paused again.

  Muireall heard male voices moving closer. They were louder than before. “Ella, come on!” she hissed. “Someone is coming upstairs. They’ll be looking for ye.”

  Ella shook her head. “I canna. I’m already too high. I canna get down, either.”

  “Oh, Christ. Can ye close the door with yer foot? No’ all the way. Just enough that they canna see in there?”

  Ella shook her head. Her knuckles were white.

  Muireall could see she couldn’t let go. “Damn it,” she muttered and swung her legs back onto the ladder.

  Ella whimpered as the ladder shifted under Muireall’s weight.

  “Dinna move,” she told Ella.

  “I canna.”

  “I’m going to climb down and close the door. Just hang on.”

  Ella nodded. The rest of her was frozen.

  Muireall worked her way down far enough to swing around to the low side of the ladder. The sound of cloth tearing made her wince. She twisted her head, trying to see what ripped. Ach, nay, she’d caught her shoulder and torn a long rent across the back of her gown. She could feel a cold draft from her shoulder to her spine. Well, she’d have to deal with that later. She found enough toe and footholds to get down the side opposite where Ella clung, whimpering as the ladder shifted with each move Muireall made. Once down to the floor, she grabbed the edge of the door and swung it closed until only a crack remained open. She exhaled and turned back to Ella. How was she going to get her to climb the rest of the way to the roof?

  The door swung open at her back.

  Muireall froze, then turned.

  Her father stood there, a knowing smirk on his face that quickly turned to outrage.

  “What is that?” he bellowed, charging into the confined space, grabbing her arm and pulling her out into the torchlit hallway.

  Muireall quailed. He could not miss the stripes on her back nor what they meant.

  “Who did this?”

  When she didn’t answer, he grabbed her other arm and pulled her around to face him. “Who, daughter? Who hurt ye?”

  Muireall sighed. There was no hope of avoiding this. “Donas Ross.”

  Ella surprised her by coming to stand with her. How had she gotten herself down the ladder? Muireall took her hand, acknowledging the courage it had taken Ella to come to her defense.

  Muireall’s father looked from her to Ella and back again. “All of ye?”

  Ella shook her head.

  “Just me,” Muireall admitted. “Punishment for trying several times to escape and return home before…”

  “Before she was taken as Tira was, and I, as well” Ella answered for her. “And now that man is here, demanding ye return his wife to him. Ye ken I dinna wish to go.”

  The Munro released his grip on Muireall’s arms and stepped back, his expression bleak.

  A frozen hush fell over the gathering as the Munro led Ella into the great hall, one big hand wrapped around her arm. Muireall followed, teeth clenched, furious that her father would consider betraying her friend.

  In the silence, Thomas’s voice rang clearly to the rafters, demanding to see his wife. “Where is Ella Munro Ross?” he roared. His back was to them.

  “Ye mean the lass ye stole?” The Munro’s response was louder and even more heated.

  Thomas whirled and frowned when he spotted them.

  “Along with my daughter, lashed by Donas Ross like a common criminal. Yet ye, another Ross, dares to step foot in my hall, bellowing demands? I should kill ye where ye stand.”

  “Nay, Da!” Muireall gasped. That would only make things worse—for Munro and for Brodie. Ella remained silent, and that worried Muireall. Ella knew what was at stake, and what could happen if Thomas died here. Muireall thought Ella had at least some feelings for Thomas, enough not to want to see him killed.

  “Donas Ross is dead,” Thomas spat. “Someone took yer revenge for ye.” His gaze cut to Euan, who’d appeared out of the crowd and come to stand at Muireall’s other side. Calum, as usual, at his side.

  Muireall’s father released Ella’s arm.

  Rather than running, which Muireall thought she might do, Ella stepped away from him and approached Thomas.

  Muireall moved up to stand beside her father, as stiff with anxiety for Ella as Ella had been on the ladder just minutes before. But she’d somehow gathered her courage and gotten down from it. Muireall hoped her courage would last through the confrontation with Thomas Ross.

  Her father fairly vibrated—whether with anger over what Donas had done to her or Ella�
��s situation, she didn’t know. Perhaps both.

  “I heard ye were here.” Thomas didn’t greet Ella. His first words to her were clearly an accusation.

  Ella lifted her chin. “I dinna ken how ye heard, but it matters not. Here I am, and here I will stay.”

  Muireall wanted to cheer at the brave front Ella put up, facing a big warrior like Thomas. She would not have to face him alone, however. The Munro and several of his men moved to flank the couple. But they didn’t interfere with the business of a husband and wife.

  Euan took her father’s place at her side, deceptively still except for the muscle jumping in his jaw. She could see he wanted to act, but in her father’s hall, it was not his place to do so. Not without invitation.

  “Ye are my wife.” Thomas continued speaking to Ella as if Munro men did not surround them. “Like it or nay. Now that I ken ye live, I’ve come to take ye home.”

  “I willna. I divorce ye.”

  “Well, I dinna divorce ye. Ye are mine, and ye will come with me or there will be trouble…more trouble…between Ross and Munro.”

  The tears running down Ella’s face hurt Muireall’s heart. “How can ye?” she demanded. “Ye ken I dinna want ye, or a life at Ross.”

  “We are wed. ’Tis that simple,” Thomas replied. Without taking his gaze from Ella, he added, “Laird Munro, ye ken what must be done here. Do ye risk clan war and deny me my right to this woman, or do ye send my wife home to Ross with me?”

  “To be treated as my daughter was?”

  Muireall clenched her hands. Could her father talk him out of taking Ella?

  Thomas looked affronted. “Nay! Donas is dead. Erik Ross is chief. He is a fearsome warrior, but he will no’ allow any woman to be treated as Donas did yer lass, no matter the cause.”

  “No’ even Silas?” Euan’s voice startled everyone, and gazes turned to him, then back to Thomas.

  “Silas died of a wound—a self-inflicted wound. I suppose she couldna bear to be separated from her murdered husband.”

  To Muireall’s relief, Euan frowned but didn’t argue the point, though it unnerved her to hear Thomas say murdered. Euan had fought bravely and won, but only because Donas forced him to. She recalled the tale Euan had told of Silas’s attack on Erik and how distraught Erik had seemed at her injury. Perhaps at least Thomas’s words about Erik were true, and things would be very different at Ross now that Erik was in charge.

  “I’m sorry, lass,” the Munro said, at last, to Ella. “I must respect the rights of a husband to claim his wife. Go with him.” Then he turned his gaze to Thomas. “Munro will visit from time to time to see that Ella is treated well. Ye will welcome my men, or there will be trouble between Munro and Ross, and I will no’ regret that. But ye will.”

  Muireall gasped and Ella choked out, “Nay!” then broke into sobs as Thomas nodded, grasped Ella’s arm and led her away. Everyone in the hall remained silent and frozen in place until they were gone. Then a low rumble punctuated by angry shouts filled the hall.

  “Wheesht!” The Munro’s voice broke through the noise.

  Muireall collapsed onto a bench Euan led her to and waited for the hall to settle. Calum joined them, his fists clenched, his skin red, fury glinting in his eyes.

  “’Tis done, and Ella’s husband has claimed her. But Munro will send men to ensure her well-being. We can do nay more, as ye ken fine, without risking a war that will burn its way around the entire firth. If—and only if—it is proven that Ella is mistreated, or both she and Thomas agree to divorce, will Munro act. Until such a time, I’ll hear nay more about this.” With those final words, he left the hall.

  Muireall, sick to her stomach, looked to Euan. “I canna believe he let her go.”

  Euan shook his head, helpless fury written in his eyes as his gaze stayed pinned to where Thomas had disappeared with Ella. “He had nay choice, lass.” His tone was milder than the rage pouring off him, evident in the set of his shoulders and his clenched fists. “Ella kens what’s at stake or she would have fought Thomas. Instead, she went with him.” He tightened his clenched fists, then opened them and nodded. “She’s a braw lass.”

  “I dinna like it,” Calum interjected. “We shouldha done something to save her.”

  “None of us like it,” Euan replied. “Least of all Ella, but she did as her laird—and her husband—bade her do.”

  “What choice did she have?” Muireall demanded. “Her own laird gave her away.”

  “None, really. Nor did yer da.” He turned and took Muireall’s hand. Heat poured off him, confirming the fury she’d seen in his bearing. “That makes her no less braw. I do believe Thomas will make certain she stays safe and well.” He sighed, as if releasing some of his anger. “He kens what’s at stake, too.”

  Despite the assurances he’d given Muireall and Calum earlier, Euan was still furious about the circumstances of Ella’s departure. He’d seen Muireall settled, then hauled Calum outside for some swordplay to work off the anger burning through both of them. Calum left when they finished, but Euan stayed to watch over some of the younger lads as they practiced. Finally, he decided it was time for an ale and headed through the bailey toward the entrance to the keep.

  “Leave me be!” A young lad’s voice drew Euan around the corner of the Munro tannery. He stopped, dismayed by the scene before him. Georgie had his back to the adjacent wash house. Laundry hanging on lines between the buildings screened him from view by anyone in the main part of the bailey. But this little back corner was perfect for what the three lads surrounding him had in mind.

  “Ye runt,” one of them taunted. “We’ve got ye now.”

  Georgie made a break for it, trying to run through them, but one of them tripped him and he went down hard. Euan stepped forward as they started kicking him, but Georgie grabbed one lad’s leg and pulled him down, too.

  He fell over Georgie, some protection from his friends’ boots until he reared up and starting punching Georgie in the head.

  Georgie rolled to his side and his arms flew up, protecting his eyes and ears, but that left his belly exposed.

  Euan roared. “Get off him.” He surged forward and grabbed the two lads on their feet, held one of their arms in one massive hand, and picked up the other lad by the scruff of his neck and let him dangle from his shirt, feet kicking.

  Georgie rolled to his feet, breathing hard, nose bloodied.

  Euan was certain he would be painfully bruised. “Get ye to the healer right away,” Euan told him. “She can treat what needs treating. Then get in the loch—the cold will help the bruises.”

  Georgie nodded and went on his way.

  Euan set the third lad on his feet but wasn’t fool enough to let go. He slammed all three against the wall where they’d trapped Georgie. “Names,” he demanded.

  “Killer,” one announced.

  “Bone-breaker,” said another.

  “Cock s—” the third started.

  “Shut it,” Euan growled. “Since ye think ’tis a game to beat up wee lads, and since ye lack the honor to admit who ye are, let’s see if the Munro recognizes the cowards who attacked his son, aye?”

  Two of the boys suddenly deflated, but the third lifted his chin. “He willna do anything to us. We be the future of this clan.”

  “No’ if I kill ye first.” Euan jerked all three beside him and marched them out into the bailey, trailing shirts and pants some poor lass would have to wash again. “If ye three are the future, this clan is in trouble,” Euan muttered and dragged them to the keep. At the door, he faced a quandary. He couldn’t let any of them go to free a hand and open it. He shook the lad in his left hand. “Open the door.”

  “I dinna wish to.”

  “Open it, or I’ll throw ye through it.”

  “Ye canna. The door is too thick.”

  Euan swung his arm back as if readying to throw. The lad in his hand fell back with it.

  “I’ll do it,” the lad announced and reached for the handle.

&
nbsp; Someone else opened the door at that moment and tried to step outside, but Euan and his charges blocked the way.

  “Excuse us,” Euan said mildly as the lads struggled to break free of his hold. “Could ye tell me where the Munro is?”

  The man pointed toward the laird’s solar without a word, then stepped back.

  Euan entered with his three charges and marched them through the great hall, accompanied by the titters of the serving lasses working there. All three lads turned red. Good. Euan wouldn’t hurt them, despite what he threatened, but he wasn’t above embarrassing them to their toes.

  When they reached the door of the laird’s solar, Euan nodded to the third lad and the lad opened the door without Euan having to say a word. He tossed all three into the room, stepped in and closed the door behind him. With his back to it, the three were not going anywhere.

  “What’s this?” The Munro stood and took in the defiant expressions on the lad’s faces.

  “I caught these three…”

  “How dare ye?” The Munro rounded on Euan. “Tossing Munro lads into my solar as if they are common…”

  “Thugs?” Euan interrupted, knowing the Munro was still seething over having to let Ella go with Thomas Ross. “A cowardly mob, beating up a younger, smaller—lone—lad?”

  “What?” The Munro turned back to the three. They took to studying the floor.

  Though they’d been caught at the worst possible time, given their laird’s frustration and fury, Euan had no sympathy for them. “I caught them beating Georgie. They cornered him behind the tannery. I sent him to the healer.”

  The Munro looked stunned. “Is he…”

  “He’ll be fine. He fought bravely, but these three against a smaller lad—’twas no’ a fair fight.”

  “We’re just trying to toughen him up,” the mouthy lad spoke up. “He willna face just one opponent on the field of battle.”

  “But he’ll be bigger and stronger and trained when he does,” Euan snarled. “Ye lot have dishonored yourselves today, and from what I understand, ye have done so many times before I caught ye just now.”