The Highland Chieftain

by Amy Jarecki

  This was not what Dunn wanted. He’d ridden roughshod for Seaforth more times than he could count. Did Reid honestly believe Cromartie would come to his senses after reading a missive? Even if Mairi professed her love, the chances of Cromartie behaving with reason were slim. Seaforth’s letter to Dunn spelled it out: Gilroy MacKenzie hadn’t listened to him at Urquhart. Why in God’s name did the earl think Cromartie would pay heed to a slip of parchment? The situation needed an army, not a quill. Dropping his shoulders, Dunn reread the letter, then looked to Ram. “Are the roads still being patrolled?”

  “Aye, sir.” The lieutenant handed over the missive addressed to Gilroy MacKenzie, Earl of Cromartie. Dunn turned it over, his fingers itching to break the seal and read the contents.

  No matter, ’tis just more of the same drivel.

  “Well then, we shall ride at once, but we’ll not take the road to Strathpeffer. We shall ride north to Loch Fannich, cut due east at Garve, then wind our way through the Heights of Brae. Just before Dingwall, we turn west. They’ll never expect such an approach. Chances are the patrols are doubling their efforts at Tarvie to the north and Marybank to the south.”

  “Aye, Tarvie and Marybank make the most sense.” Ram scratched his head. “But you want to leave now, sir? ’Tis the middle of the night.”

  “Yes, now. Summon Curran. I want to ride with a small party that will not attract attention. And if we wait until daylight, government troops are sure to make chase.” Dunn headed for the door between chambers. “I shall wake Lady Mairi. Be ready to ride within the hour.”

  But he didn’t walk through the door. Not yet. As much as he abhorred writing letters, there were three he needed to scribe before setting out. This time Dunn would leave nothing to chance.

  * * *

  Being back in the saddle did nothing for Dunn’s ire. Blast Seaforth. Why didn’t the earl send his regrets to the queen—or at least inform her that he was on his way and would be there as soon as a small matter with his great-uncle was resolved?

  Dunn wouldn’t have thought twice before he’d done the same for His Lordship.

  Now he was leading two of his men and his betrothed on a roundabout journey, taking days longer than it should. He rode Beastie into the ruins of an old kirk near Loch Fannich in the shadows of the mountain peak Sgurr Mor. He’d used the remote location before, and though he didn’t expect to see a soul, he gave Curran and Ram instructions not to light a fire while he scouted in a mile-wide perimeter. When that was done, he used what was left of daylight to ride up the mountain and scan the landscape for encroaching redcoats. He returned to the roofless kirk only after he saw for himself they hadn’t been followed.

  He hobbled Beastie near a burn with the other horses, pulled off his bedroll, and headed inside the ruins.

  “Did you see anyone?” asked Mairi, rising to her feet.

  “Nay, but that doesn’t mean they’re not out there.” Dunn dropped his roll and nodded to his men. “I’ll take the first watch.”

  Mairi stepped to the crumbling doorway and peered through the gap. “I can take a turn.”

  “No, you will not, m’lady.” Since they were en route to Castle Leod with his two most trusted men, Dunn had dropped the pretense that Her Ladyship was anyone other than herself.

  She eyed him, crossing her arms. “But you men need your sleep as well.”

  “A few hours of sleep is all we need. Besides, you are under my protection and I cannot allow it. What if you were confronted by a mob of musket-wielding redcoats?” He sliced his hand through the air indicating he’d entertain no more discussion on the matter.

  Ram handed him a parcel with a piece of dried meat and two oatcakes. “We’ve already eaten. This is for you.”

  “My thanks.” Dunn plopped against a large stone that must have been part of the kirk’s masonry.

  Mairi moved beside him while the two men spread out their blankets and settled down to sleep. “When we arrive at Castle Leod, I will talk some sense into my father.”

  Dunn shoved the meat into his mouth and shook his head. She might be the love of his life, but she knew bugger all about the dealings of men. “When we arrive, I will do the talking. In fact, I do not want you with me until we’ve reached a truce. After all that has transpired, I don’t care if Cromartie is your father, I do not trust the man any more than I trust an asp.”

  Releasing an exasperated breath, Mairi crossed her arms. “But if anyone can reason with him, it is I.”

  “Och, m’lady. You speak as if your da will be amenable to reason. But I cannot be so sure.” He pulled two of the letters he’d written from his doublet. “These are insurance, an alternative plan in case something goes awry.”

  Mairi took them and read the addresses. “I understand the one to me, but another for Seaforth?”

  “Aye. If anything happens to me, you are to ready your missive and immediately dispatch the earl’s. Understood?”

  She knit her brows. “You’re worried?”

  “I’m cautious.”

  “I believe everything will be fine. I feel it in my bones.” Shaking her head, she passed the letters back, but Dunn refused to take them.

  “Hide them in your cloak.”

  “Very well.”

  He tossed the leather parcel aside and stood. “You haven’t made up your pallet.”

  “I was waiting for you.”

  “You need sleep. We’ll be riding afore dawn.” He grabbed the bundle, hating that Her Ladyship must bed down in a rocky old ruin without a fire. Finding a patch of grass that looked reasonably comfortable, he unrolled the pelt of fur and the blanket. “Here, Mairi. This ought to be the last night you must endure such crude accommodations.”

  “Have I complained?” With a shake of her head, she marched over and crawled under the blanket. “Heaven’s stars, you’re acting as if you’re heading into battle.”

  Dunn’s gut clamped into a hard ball. “Mayhap I am.”

  * * *

  They awoke before dawn. After breaking their fast with two oatcakes each, they headed down the mountain—whatever mountain it was. Unaccustomed to sitting on a horse for hours on end, Mairi’s backside ached. Yesterday they’d ridden from the wee hours, climbing up and down endless Highland routes that were no better than game trails covered with thorns, burns, and bogs. With Dunn trying to avoid running into all of humanity, they seemed to be riding in circles.

  It didn’t matter. It was best they were under way early. The old kirk in the mountains was cold, damp, and miserable. No wonder it was left to ruin. Moreover, Dunn hardly looked her way, as the old, brooding glint returned to his eyes. Worse, he acted cross with her. It didn’t matter what she’d say, he’d grouse back like a curmudgeon.

  Aye, it was a setback that Seaforth had been unable to join them, but he’d sent missives. Her father might be shrewd, but he wasn’t daft. Besides, Mairi never expected Reid to come to their aid. The Earl of Seaforth had done nothing but let her down. Why should this be any different?

  On top of everything, the Earl of Cromartie was her father, as she had tried to point out last eve. She’d been annoyed when Dunn discounted her influence on her own sire. But now his behavior was nothing short of infuriating. Mairi positively believed she could win her father’s favor. In fact, her certainty buoyed her sprits regardless of Dunn’s bad temper.

  She would have her grand wedding within a month—and only because it would take that long to dispatch all the invitations.

  After riding half the morning, Dunn led them out of the forest and straight to the shore of Loch Ussie—only two miles from home. Goodness, they hadn’t seen a single town, not even Dingwall or Strathpeffer. They’d crossed roads, seen crofts and the wooden posts denoting miles to the next village, but they had not ridden through a town. Nor had she even glimpsed Inverness. They had circumvented all of civilization. Heaven’s stars, when it came to navigating the Highlands, Dunn’s skill was pure genius. In no way did Mairi realize they had come so close to
Castle Leod.

  Once they arrived in a clearing, Dunn dismounted and helped Mairi down from her horse, though he didn’t smile or give her a lingering look—the type of fiery meeting of the eyes she’d come to adore.

  “We’ll wait here until dusk.” He took a stick and drew a big circle. “This is the eastern shore of Loch Ussie.” He drew an X where the loch should be, then another X above it. “Castle Leod is on the mound here.”

  Mairi pursed her lips. Of course, everyone knew it was on a mound.

  “Do you intend to ride straight up the drive?” asked Ram.

  Dunn scratched the dark two-day stubble along his jaw. “Nay, we’d be seen for certain. We shall ride in through the Peffery Burn. It cuts across the northeast quadrant of the estate.”

  It did. Mairi looked on, surprised that Dunn knew so much detail about her home. He couldn’t have visited more than once or twice. “And then what?” she asked. “How do you intend to gain entry? Storm the keep? Smash through the front gate with a battering ram?”

  Dunn cut her a stern look. “If need be. But I thought to knock first.”

  “And ask for an audience with my father?”

  “Aye.”

  “With me beside you, or will Ram keep me tied up at the edge of the forest?”

  “Bloody hell, m’lady, what is needling you? Ram and Curran will remain in the forest with you whilst I present Seaforth’s missive to your da. Then I will be the one to tell him you have accepted my proposal of marriage.”

  “And you think he will allow you into his chamber for a wee chat?”

  “Why would he not?”

  “Because I ken my father. If I am not there, he will not see you until he reads the missive, and once he does, he’s more likely to seize you and send out scouts to find me.”

  “We can plan for such a reaction.”

  “Or I can go with you.”

  Dunn chopped his hand through the air. “Absolutely not.”

  Mairi wasn’t about to back down. “But I can spirit you inside the castle without the need to go through the front door.”

  That made him stop and look. “How?”

  “Only if I can go with you.”

  “No, m’lady.” He shook his head. “I refuse to put you in harm’s way.”

  “Have you forgotten that the Earl of Cromartie is my father? I can reason with him far more effectively than your Lord Seaforth, especially since he is absent.”

  “She does have a point,” said Ram.

  Dunn turned to the lieutenant and thrust his finger toward the man’s sternum. “Wheesht. I will decide how we proceed.” He returned his gaze to Mairi. “Where is the entry to which you referred?”

  Pursing her lips, Mairi crossed her arms. “Will you take me with you?”

  Groaning, the laird rolled his eyes skyward. “Bless it, what if he draws a sword? You might be hurt simply by being present. Your father has thrown the gauntlet, and until I set things to rights, I am very concerned for your safety.”

  Gracious, she loved Dunn to his core, but she’d had enough of his overbearing bullheadedness. Did he not realize how much she could help? They were on her lands now and she would not be ignored. “My father may have a quarrel with you, but he would never lift a finger to hurt me.” Pointing at MacRae’s chest, she stepped nearer. “Besides, you taught me how to fend off an attack.”

  “Aye, and as I recall, I said the best thing for a lass to do is run.”

  She raised her chin and stood a bit taller. “’Tis my home. Either I go in with you, or you will have no recourse but to enter through the main door and take your chances.”

  * * *

  Dunn didn’t like it one bit, but in the end, the lass’s argument was too persuasive. Mairi did have clout with her da—he’d observed it on a number of occasions. Still, it was risk, but in this day and age, with war on either side of Britain and the kingdom itself on the brink of conflict regarding the succession, merely breathing bore a risk.

  Against his better judgment, he left orders with Ram and Curran to wait for his return. After dusk, Mairi led Dunn though Castle Leod’s gardens to the family crypt while he carried an unlit torch fashioned from hickory bark. At the rear of the building, stairs covered with moss led downward at a steep angle. Once they reached a dirt floor where they were completely out of sight, he gave Mairi the torch and struck the flint, igniting the sap-soaked tinder.

  She led him through the crypt bearing medieval stone effigies of knights in armor and newer tombs of granite. At the rear of the chamber, Mairi ran her hands along the wall. “I need to find the loose stone.”

  “I thought you had used this passage many times afore.”

  “Aye, but not for years.” Stopping, she grasped one of the masonry blocks and shifted it. She glanced over her shoulder and grinned. “See? ’Tis a bit lower than I’d remembered.” She pushed in on the stone, and a hidden crawlspace opened. “Through here.”

  Dunn watched as she went down on hands and knees. “Wait. You hold the torch. I’ll go first—who kens what lies beyond this wall.”

  After he pushed through a myriad of cobwebs, Mairi passed the torch through, then followed him.

  Beyond, a tunnel led into darkness—a tunnel filled with more cobwebs and Lord knew what else—definitely no place for a lady. “How far does this go?” he asked.

  “We follow until we find the iron gate.”

  He swiped the torch back and forth while he peered deeper inside. “It looks as if no one has used this passageway in years.”

  “Three years, most likely. I oft used it when I needed solace from my governess.”

  “Not your father?”

  “Nay. He’s too busy to badger me overmuch. But my governess could be a dragon.”

  “Were you not afraid to pass through alone?”

  “Not when it meant freedom.”

  True to her word, after a bend, they came to a gate. Dunn tugged on the latch, but it wouldn’t budge. He swept the torch downward and found the reason for its obstinacy. “Padlock.”

  “Let me past,” said Mairi, squeezing in front of him. “I ken where to find the key.”

  Dunn gave her room while holding the torch aloft. Her Ladyship reached between the bars and pulled away another loose stone. Sure enough, from inside she pulled out a key and used it to unlock the gate. After they passed through, she refastened the padlock.

  He took the key and slipped it into his sporran. “I’ll keep the key as insurance.”

  “Very well.” Mairi pointed. “This way.”

  The passageway twisted and climbed until it opened into the cellars with vaulted ceilings. Unable to stand straight except in the center, Dunn ducked while leading Mairi out of the maze.

  Footsteps echoed from the stairwell.

  Mairi tapped Dunn’s arm. “Hide in here.” She pulled him into a room lined with beer casks. Dunn snuffed the torch in a barrel of water before he ducked behind it.

  The footsteps stopped outside the brew cellar, and the light from the person’s torch flickered across the entryway. “Bloody rats,” said a man’s voice before he continued.

  Dunn peered around the wall and watched until the man disappeared into a room. “We must make haste.” He grasped Mairi’s hand and together they slipped to the stairwell. “Where would your father likely be?”

  “The study or the billiards room,” she whispered. “If he’s alone, then ’tis the study.”

  “Let us hope he’s not entertaining this eve.” Dunn gestured. “Lead on.”

  “The southeast stairwell opens right to it—three floors up.”

  “Are we likely to see anyone?”

  “Only Da. The servants use the north staircase.”

  Quietly, they proceeded upward through the dim light while Dunn ducked his head. Mairi exited into a passageway lit by a lamp burning in a sconce—a good sign. She stopped at the first door and nodded.

  Dunn grasped the latch. “Stay close to me,” he whispered, then pushed the
door open.

  Gilroy MacKenzie sat in a high-backed chair, smoking a pipe and reading a gazette. He looked up from his paper and hopped to his feet. “Mairi!” Casting the gazette aside, he rushed forward with a smile on his face.

  “Da!” She opened her arms.

  Dunn moved between them. “Halt! I have brought your daughter home, but there is the matter of a hundred guineas on my head that must first be resolved.”

  “Guard!” Cromartie shouted. “You, sir, should be tried and hanged for kidnapping.”

  “No, Da. You misunderstand.” Mairi stepped around Dunn and approached her father. “Mr. MacRae saved me from attack by three dragoons. He tried to take me home the very next day, but before we reached Castle Leod, we were chased by redcoats.”

  “And you placed a bounty on my head,” Dunn continued, sauntering forward. “How was I to return Her Ladyship when every man with a musket in all of Ross Shire is out for my head?”

  “I will have your head and it will not cost me a farthing.” Cromartie turned to Mairi. “Did he ravish you?”

  “N-nay.” Dropping her gaze, she shook her head. “I love him. I want to marry him.”

  “MacRae?” Cromartie blurted the name as if it were a curse. “Preposterous.”

  Dunn drew Seaforth’s letter from inside his doublet before the situation spiraled out of control. “M’lord, I am carrying a missive from the Earl of Seaforth addressed to you. He would have been here himself had he not been summoned to court.”

  “What is my meddling grandnephew up to now?” Cromartie took the letter, ran his finger under the seal and opened it, taking a moment to read.

  “Does it matter?” asked Mairi impatiently.