Highland Savior: A Medieval Scottish Highlander Historical Romance Book

by Alisa Adams

Rosina's Story

  Hugh was dumbstruck, but after a moment, when he recovered the power of speech, he turned to her and said:

  "Rosina - why?"

  "Because he was going to rape me!" She shouted angrily, "he might even have killed me. He struck me across the face twice and knocked me down, and I don't know what else he was going to do after that! He was like a madman - and he was drunk."

  She paused for a moment to compose herself, feeling tears stinging her eyes. However, they were not tears of anger but tears of rage as she remembered the sheer terror of those few moments.

  "I hardly remember picking up the candlestick," she said grimly, "I just grabbed at the first thing I saw. I did not mean to kill him, but I am glad he's dead."

  Hugh was staring at her in disbelief.

  "You - my precious, gentle daughter," he swallowed, "you killed a man?"

  "NO FATHER!" She roared into his face, "I did not kill a MAN! I killed a loathsome, despicable MONSTER!"

  "But why didn't you tell me?" He asked, and his tone was pitiful.

  "So that you could do what?" Rosina said scathingly, "panic? That's what you would have done, Father. I would have - most of us would have."

  Hugh put his head in his hands for a moment, then stood up.

  "Excuse me, but this has been a shock," he said heavily, "I am going to get a drink and I will be back shortly."

  He got up and went out, closing the door none too gently behind him.

  * * *

  "This is why I said nothing," she sat down. "He is such a strong man in most ways, Logan, but faced with something like this - he cannot cope. Look at him."

  Logan pulled her up into his arms.

  "Give him a chance," he said gently," as he said, it has been a shock and he does not yet know how to react."

  * * *

  Rosina nodded.

  "I'm afraid," she whispered against his chest, "I was not afraid enough before."

  Logan sighed.

  "Your father will not betray you," he reassured her. "He loves you, and will do everything he can to help you."

  She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes and he smiled at her tenderly.

  "You're so small," he whispered, "sometimes I just want to wrap my arms around you and take you away somewhere peaceful where nothing or nobody will ever worry us again."

  She laughed softly.

  "I would love that, but I might get lonely."

  "Then we would need to have children," he proposed.

  She sighed contentedly.

  "Oh, that would be so wonderful!" she breathed, "at least one boy and one girl."

  They lay on the bed for a while and Rosina listened to the steady beat of Logan's heart next to her ear as he held her.

  "I could lie here forever," she said, "just like this."

  "You'd get hungry," he pointed out. Rosina lay in his arms for a moment longer then stirred restlessly.

  "I have to go and talk to him," she stood up, "I will be back soon, my love."

  "Do not back down, Rosie," Logan said, holding her hands, "don't let him make excuses for what Alasdair did - I am not saying that he will, or that he's a bad man, but I've seen that attitude before from men. Please don't be offended."

  "I'm not," she answered, kissing him, "but I warn you, Logan, if he tries to blame me or you for this I will cut him off. He will be dead to me - that is how much I love you."

  "Rosie - no!" he said desperately, "I am not going to be responsible for that. Talk to him but don't do anything you will regret. Promise me. Promise me, Rosina!"

  She was astonished by his distress.

  "I promise, my love. Don't upset yourself."

  He nodded, and with a last backward glance, she went downstairs.

  * * *

  Logan's distress was partly for himself as his thoughts strayed to the son who would never know him. He had no wish for Hugh to be at war with his daughter, whom he loved very much. It may have been a threat made in the reaction to his obviously inadequate reaction, but Rosina was stubborn, and her reaction to most things that hurt her was to kick back against them, as she was doing now. He sighed. He could only wait and see what happened.

  When Rosina went down to see her father he was sitting in the parlor with a full glass of whiskey in his hands. Tears were streaming down his face.

  "Why?" he asked, his face screwed up with pain, "how could you? You could have called for help."

  Rosina was speechless for a moment.

  * * *

  "If I could have, I would have," she replied coldly, "but there was so much noise and it all happened so fast that I could not. But Logan was passing and he helped me. He and Maisie were my rocks, Father. I couldn't tell you because I knew this would happen. You thought Alasdair was a good catch for me even though he was not very wealthy. So did I. Maisie had her doubts but she could do nothing since she had no evidence. Connor could have told me but he didn't because he thought I might think he was jealous - he thought he loved me. So many people knew him, but nobody said anything. I had to find out the hard way!"

  She stopped, breathing heavily and glaring at him.

  "Rosie - I am truly sorry," Hugh replied, "I blame myself entirely. Sometimes there was a little sign - a look, the way he gripped your arm so tightly - a hint of possessiveness, but I thought I was imagining things. I thought I was being an over-protective father who just did not want to let his daughter go into the arms of another man. You were almost killed because of my stupidity."

  Rosina put her arms around him and kissed his hair.

  "You were not to blame, Father, but neither was I," she said urgently, "I was fighting for my life - but this is a man's world. Who is going to take the word of a woman? Forgive me, Father, but look how you reacted at first. If I had not managed to get away I would have been hanged. I did not want to involve you because I knew it would weigh on your conscience."

  Hugh said nothing for a moment, then patted the seat next to him so that Rosina could sit next to him.

  "It will, Rosie, and I will not lie to you," he replied, gravely, "but I would never hand you over to be executed. But we have to prove that Logan did not do this. Please tell me the story."

  "I need some whiskey, Father," she took a ragged breath, "this was a terrifying experience and it is really unpleasant to relive it. But I know you need to hear it."

  "I am sorry, Rosie," he said sadly, but if I am to help Logan I need to hear the details."

  She nodded, took a deep breath and began to tell her father what had happened. Afterward, Hugh drained his glass and steepled his hands, leaning back in his chair.

  "So he did put the body in the drain?"

  She nodded.

  "But there was no fuss till they found it a while later," she pointed out, "and there was a lot of confusion."

  "True," her father said, his eyes faraway as he thought about the situation, "so this takes us back to what we were discussing earlier. "Someone has started this and it has got bigger and bigger."

  "It's someone with a grudge," she replied, "I keep wondering who it could be - Maisie and I tried to find out but we couldn't."

  "Connor?"

  Rosina shook her head.

  "Why would he?"

  Hugh racked his brains.

  "Why indeed?" he mused.

  Just then, Logan appeared.

  "I'm not hiding up there any longer," he said defiantly, "I have done nothing wrong."

  "We know," Rosina replied anxiously, "but not everyone else does."

  "I will handle it," he replied grimly, "this ends now," he looked at Hugh, "I am going to call Malcolm then I'm going to see Big Sam and that other grubby little imp."

  "I will come with you," Hugh said grimly, standing up. "I have a strange feeling that we are getting close to the answer."

  55

  Speaking to Sam

  Maggie, Logan's oversized mare, had been cooped up in the stable for a long time and was raring to go when she was saddled up by h
er master. She was dancing around so much that he had great difficulty in getting on her back. Eventually, he managed, however, and she calmed down, but she was as impatient to get going as the men were.

  Malcolm had been worried when Logan said they wanted to come with him, but Logan had been adamant.

  "No more hiding," he said grimly, "if someone wants to accuse me of murder let them have the courage to do it face to face. All I did was put a body on the ground, and that man was not murdered. He was killed in self-defense by someone who was fighting for her life."

  * * *

  "Aye, sir, I knaw that, but if anythin' happens tae ye -"

  Logan patted his arm and smiled.

  "I will handle everything, Malcolm," he said, "don't worry."

  Hugh's face looked as grim as the lowering sky which promised a blizzard later.

  "Let us go," he said in a tone that brooked no defiance, "I want to find out who is endangering my daughter's happiness."

  The blacksmith's shop in Dumbarton was easy to find in the twilight by the glow of its burning forge, and Big Sam was there holding up a big horse's foot, just as he had been doing the last time Malcolm spoke to him. He was black from head to foot and as they watched he put the horse's foot down and swiped an arm across his sweating forehead.

  He eyed the three strangers with undisguised hostility.

  "Efternoon," Malcolm said, smiling, "how ye keepin', Sam?"

  "Fine," Sam said suspiciously, wiping his hands on a rag, "can I help ye?"

  "Yes," Logan said, staring at him fixedly out of his blue eyes, darkened by his lowering brows as he stared fixedly at him, "I need to ask you some questions about the night of Alasdair McPhail's wedding. I believe you were there."

  "Aye," he said grudgingly, "jist tae help wi' settin it a' up and takin' it a' doon again, like. Whit's this aboot?"

  "I am Laird Logan Fraser," Logan bowed slightly, to Sam's surprise, "and this is Laird Hugh Buchanan." Hugh also gave Sam a slight bow. He was amazed. He was not used to this level of respect from an upper-class gentleman.

  "I have been accused of murder," Logan said. His voice was pleasant on the surface but there was an underlying layer of menace. Sam was a big man, but Logan was even bigger, and Sam looked at his feet as Logan spoke to him. "I heard that you had seen me putting a body into a ditch where it was found later."

  Sam fidgeted, cleared his throat and crossed his arms defensively over his chest.

  "Aye, weel, I saw somethin'" he said grudgingly. He was beginning to look frightened.

  Logan put a hand on his shoulder.

  "Look, Sam," he said gently, "I just want to find out the truth. I know you're scared, and I think I know why. Did someone threaten you?"

  The big man turned away and bent his head for a moment then began to pace up and down, obviously in the grip of some internal struggle.

  "Aye," he said at last, "somebody did."

  * * *

  "Can you tell us who?" Hugh asked, trying to keep his voice calm and even. He felt like slapping the man.

  "He paid me a few shillins but he said he would harm my faimly if I told anybody who he wis," he replied, his voice quivering, "I wis jist tae say that I caught a glimpse o' somebody wi' fair hair like Laird Fraser. I wis tae mention yer name."

  "Did you tell a lot of people?" Logan asked, still gently.

  "Anybody that asked, an' usually they wid buy me a drink," he replied guiltily, "weel, I started tae say a wee bit mair than I needed tae because - weel - naebody ever paid me much mind before but noo everybody wanted tae talk tae me an' buy me a drink," he shrugged, "so I got a bit carried awa'."

  Logan nodded.

  "If you are telling me the truth and someone threatened your family then I understand," he sighed and said: "look at me, Sam."

  * * *

  Sam looked up, his brown eyes wide and frightened.

  "Swear that you're telling me the truth," he said solemnly.

  "I swear on the life of my son, my Laird."

  "So what exactly did you see, Sam?" Hugh asked, still gritting his teeth, "any men with hats? Maybe blue ones?"

  Sam shrugged.

  "Naethin'," he said simply, "I wis in that corner when they found it but I never saw the body till they lifted it up. There wis a lot o' people there and plenty o' men wi bunnets amang them, but naebody as big as you, my Laird."

  "Can you stop talking about it now?" Logan asked, "I won't threaten you, don't worry. If you hear anything else will you contact me? Malcolm comes into town from time to time and he will stop by."

  "Are you sure you can't tell us who this person is?" Hugh asked. His face had an aggressive expression and Sam shook his head violently.

  * * *

  "Naw, my Laird, I cannae risk any harm tae my faimly," he looked around to see if anyone was looking at them but no-one was taking any notice. Logan pressed a few shillings into his hand and he smiled widely.

  "If anyone asks, I was here to see you about trimming my horse's hooves," Logan said, "you will hear from me soon."

  Sam watched them ride away and looked at the money in his hand. For the first time in a long while he did not feel afraid.

  Hugh and Logan rode back to Dumbarton Castle in silence. Each of them was thinking his own thoughts, and arrived at their destination just as the snow began to fall.

  Rosina ran out to greet them and threw herself into Logan's arms.

  "I was so worried!" she buried her head in his chest and he smiled at Hugh over the top of her head.

  "I am so glad she chose me," he said happily, laughing, "my life will never be dull again."

  "I'll make sure of it!" she promised then her expression changed, "what did you find out?"

  "We found out that this is a deliberate campaign," Hugh answered grimly, "and it was started by someone whose name we cannot find out. Big Sam is too afraid to tell us."

  "I think it may be Connor," Logan said suddenly.

  "But what would be his motive?" Rosina asked, "I can't think of one."

  Logan frowned, then sat thinking silently for a long moment.

  "He does not like me," he replied slowly, "he never has since the time that we were both trying to buy the same piece of land once and I outbid him. Maybe that is a motive, but I cannot see a man taking revenge for such a trivial matter when he is so wealthy."

  * * *

  "We never know how people's minds work, Logan," Hugh said pensively, "perhaps it is a matter of pride. We men can sometimes let it go to our heads!"

  "You should speak to him," Rosina said.

  The two Lairds looked at each other and laughed.

  "I do not think that would work," Hugh said, somewhat cynically. "I am the man who took away his fiancée, remember?

  "I can do it," Rosina said brightly, "I could tell him I want to apologize to him for being mean to him. He may be willing to talk to me."

  "You will have to do it on neutral ground, though," Hugh warned.

  "I have an idea," Logan was suddenly animated, "we will all be guests at your friend Laird Strachan's Hogmanay Celebration on Sunday. Why do we not speak to him then? Rosina can engage him in conversation then we can surprise him."

  "No," Rosina said firmly, "Father can surprise him. You were invited a while ago, but you are a wanted fugitive now."

  "I have to be there!" Logan protested, "I need to confront him."

  Hugh and Rosina looked at each other.

  "Logan, it is not safe," she said urgently, "he has many friends. It would take only one of them to get the Constables."

  Logan could see the sense in this, but he was determined to be there by hook or by crook.

  "You can travel hidden in our carriage," Rosina suggested suddenly, "then hide and speak to Connor when I have him to myself. I flatter myself that my feminine wiles will be enough to get him on his own."

  Logan laughed heartily.

  "That I do not doubt," he kissed her forehead, then looked at Hugh, raising his eyebrows.


  "Let us do it!" Hugh said, his voice determined, "this matter must be settled as soon as possible."

  56

  Preparing for Battle

  Maisie was looking out of the window of Rosina's bedroom when she came in, but turned hastily as she heard her mistress's entrance. Rosina looked at the tears running down her face and immediately went over to wrap her arms around her.

  "Is it Findlay?" Rosina asked softly, then felt Maisie nod against her shoulder. "Are you missing him?"

  "Yes, Mistress." Maisie pulled herself out of Rosina's embrace and wiped her eyes with a hankie, trying to smile.

  "I'm sorry, Mistress," she said huskily, "I am being very foolish."

  "Missing the man you love is not foolish, Maisie," Rosina said tenderly, "and I want you to be happy, so tell me what you want to do. We wanted to spend time in both castles, but it would not be practical."

  Maisie nodded, then said sadly:

  "I will have to bear the separation till I can see him again. Maybe he will find someone else anyway."

  "He had years to find someone," Rosina said reasonably, "but he found nobody till he met you, Maisie. Let me think about this," she planted a soft kiss on Maisie's bent head, "I must find a way that you can be together, or I will not be happy either."

  "Thank you, Mistress," Maisie replied, nodding. She helped Rosina to dress for dinner then got on with the rest of her duties for the evening before readying her mistress for bed. As soon as Rosina had retired she lay down to sleep, but sleep would not come easily. She comforted herself with remembering the day she had asked Findlay to show her what was underneath the eye patch.

  They had been sitting having tea in the small cozy library that was one of Findlay's favorite places. The walls were lined with bookshelves and the floors covered in jewel-colored Turkish carpets. Maisie had a spare hour, and so did Findlay, so they sat in front of a roaring fire watching the snow fall outside.