Highland Spirit: Highland Chronicles Series - Book 2

by Rose, Elizabeth

  “My dolly wanted to go for a walk.” The little girl held tightly to the doll that Alana had never seen before.

  “Where did ye get that?” asked Alana.

  “My friend gave it to me. It was her dolly, but now it’s mine.” Isobel hugged the doll and kissed it.

  “Isobel, stop lyin’,” said Alana, tired of the little girl making up stories these past few years. It had really started getting out of control lately. She supposed it was because Isobel was lonely and didn’t have any other children to play with. There were no other children in the castle besides Isobel’s uncle, Finn. But Finn was much older than Isobel and certainly didn’t play with dolls! “Get in bed,” she commanded, taking the doll from the girl.

  Isobel whined and started to cry, holding out her hands.

  “Oh, all right. I guess there is no harm in havin’ it. It’s only a toy.” She gave the doll back, and the child stopped crying. Then she tucked her in and kissed her. Afterwards, she walked into the antechamber to speak to Kirstine where the little girl couldn’t overhear them.

  “Alana, if ye really did see Ethan MacKeefe tonight, that is no’ a guid thing. Especially if he saw ye,” explained Kirstine. She rubbed her large belly as she spoke.

  “I ken.” Alana felt concern welling within her chest. “Kirstine, I hate this life of livin’ in secret as naught more than prisoners. And I despise the fact that ye are Diarmad’s wife.”

  “Alana, mayhap it’s no’ so bad,” she answered, faking a smile, looking down at her belly. “At least I will have a child to love even if I hate the child’s faither.”

  “Nay. It’s no’ right and ye ken it. I wish we could leave here and never see Diarmad again.”

  “Mayhap we should try to escape,” suggested Kirstine, surprising Alana. Every time Alana had brought up the idea, Kirstine was the one to reject it. Of course, Kirstine was always worrying about Alana and Isobel and would do anything to keep them safe. Even be the wife of their captor and not complain.

  Alana had been seriously thinking about leaving lately, and taking her family with her. Now that they were back in Scotland, it would be easier she supposed. But Diarmad chained her father to the bed now when he left on smuggling runs since her father was becoming too ill to travel with him. She feared what might happen to the rest of them if her father died. This was Diarmad’s way of controlling Alana and her siblings because he knew she would never leave her father behind. But with Kirstine being the man’s wife and ready to birth him another baby, it only complicated matters.

  “Finn is almost done workin’ on buildin’ the boat,” whispered Alana. It was a secret project using the wood from the abandoned hut where Osla and her children used to live. “Mayhap when the time is right, we can try it out.”

  “Diarmad will be leavin’ soon on another run,” said Kirstine. “Mayhap Albert and Graeme will help us.”

  “I want to leave, Kirstine, I really do,” said Alana with a sigh. “But we have nowhere to go even if we do get off this isle. Faither has seen to it that no one will ever welcome us back again. And if we show up in public, we are most likely goin’ to be thrown in the dungeon for Faither’s crimes. If they tie us to the smugglin’ ring, we might all hang for it.”

  “I see yer point, Alana. Ye are right. I guess we have no choice but to stay here. After all, I am Diarmad’s wife now and soon to have his baby. Mayhap ye and Finn should go without me.”

  “I would never do that and ye ken it. Damn, why did Faither ever get hooked up with the vile man to begin with?”

  “Dinna be angry with Faither,” said Kirstine. “He loves us, but just has a problem of makin’ the wrong choices too often.”

  “I ken,” she agreed. “And since Mathair’s death, he has seemed to lose the will to live. With Mathair’s dyin’ breath, she told me to forgive him, and so I will.”

  “She also told ye to guard the treasure, but we’ve yet to even find it.”

  “I have a suspicion that we are closer than ye think,” said Alana, pulling the key out from around her neck attached to a string. It was hidden under her shirt. Her wedding ring was on the string with the key. “I think the treasure might be hidden right here at Blackbriar.”

  “Really?” Kirstine’s eyes opened wide. “It would be a guid place to hide it since everyone is afraid to step foot on the isle.”

  “My thoughts exactly. Our uncle kent this and so did our mathair.”

  “Doesna Faither ken where the treasure is hidden?”

  “Nay. I’m sure he wasna told because with his little problem, he couldna be trusted.”

  “I wonder why our family was chosen to guard it?” asked Kirstine. “I would like to ken more.”

  “Me, too, but I dinna think we’ll ever find out. But I’m goin’ to find the treasure if it’s the last thing I ever do. And then, I’m goin’ to use it.”

  “Use it? For what?”

  “To start a new life far away from here where no one even kens who we are. I dinna want my daughter livin’ like this. It is no’ right. And ye should no’ have to be married to a man ye dinna love.”

  “Then we are goin’ to escape after all? I’m confused.” Kirstine held on to the wall for balance. “And are we goin’ to bring Faither with us?”

  “Shhhh,” said Alana, her eyes darting around. “One of Diarmad’s men might hear ye talkin’.

  “Alana, mayhap it’s time we get help. If Ethan is truly still alive, then mayhap he and the MacKeefes can –”

  “Nay! Now haud yer wheesht,” spat Alana. “I could never ask Ethan and his friends to risk their lives to help me after the pain I’ve inflicted on them. Especially, after leavin’ Ethan at the altar on our weddin’ day.”

  “Mayhap he still has eyes for ye, Alana. Perhaps all isna really lost after all.”

  “It’s over, Kirstine,” Alana said softly, wishing things could be different. “What Ethan and I had could have been beautiful but I made the decision to leave him. No man will ever forgive an action like that. Besides, I’m sure he thinks I am naught but a traitor.”

  “Mayhap no’. After all, ye thought he was dead and now ye found out he isna. Talk to Faither. Tell him Ethan was on the isle and is still alive. After all, the MacKeefe camp is close by. Mayhap more of them will come here. Mayhap Faither will come up with a plan.”

  “Nay, no one else will come here. We’ve seen to that, or have ye forgotten? Our deceit will be kept a secret because of the awful legend that we canna let die. Kirstine, I didna want to alarm ye, but Faither’s health has been gettin’ worse lately. Bein’ chained up is killin’ his spirit and makin’ things even worse. He is too weak to go on the smugglin’ runs, yet Diarmad willna let him be. He is close to death, I am sure of it. It is even hard to carry on a conversation with him anymore.”

  “What will happen to us if he dies before Diarmad says his debt is paid off?”

  “I’m afraid if that happens, we will be stranded here for the rest of our lives. The secret boat Finn is makin’ is almost finished. So when it is, I will take it for a test before we all use it to sail to the mainland if we do decide to escape.”

  “Alana, we are trapped in a life of hell that we will never escape, isna that so?” She sadly looked down at the bump that proved she would never be free of the evil man who forced her to be his bride.

  “Nay,” Alana told her, putting her arm around her sister’s shoulders. Trying to remain optimistic was getting harder and harder through the years. “We’ll find a way out of this, dinna ye worry.”

  “But it has been so long. I miss Mathair more and more each day.”

  “Me, too,” said Alana, rubbing her sister’s shoulder.

  “Do ye ever miss Ethan?” asked Kirstine.

  “More than ye ken,” she replied. “Because of my decision, I have given up the only man I have ever loved. I had given up all hope of ever bein’ happy. But after seein’ Ethan today, and findin’ out he is still alive, it makes me start to wonder about a lot of things.”<
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  “What do ye mean?”

  “I mean, I wonder if Ethan and I could have been happy together.”

  “I’m sure ye would have been.”

  “Kirstine,” said Alana, grabbing her sister’s arm. “Do ye think . . . do ye think Ethan is married and perhaps has a bunch of children by now?”

  Kirstine made a face and shrugged. “Alana, it has been five years. I dinna think the man would have waited that long and no’ have gotten married. After all, he is a Highland warrior. He is one of the mighty MacKeefes. I’m sorry to say it, but he has probably found someone else by now.”

  “I ken ye are right,” said Alana, looking across the room at her daughter, sleeping soundly in the large bed. The little girl hugged her mysterious doll. “I – I just wish I could have told Ethan about Isobel. But now . . . now I’ll never be able to tell him. Even if I happen to see him again, it is too late. If he is married and has bairns, I will take my secret to my grave rather than disrupt his life again. Nay, what Ethan and I had is over. And even if I see him again someday, I can never tell him that he has a daughter.”

  Chapter 3

  “Ethan ye look like death warmed over.” Ethan’s friends, Logan and Caleb, came to join Hawke and Ethan at the fire of the MacKeefe camp the next morning. Each of the men was the son of one of the well-known MacKeefes. While Hawke was the son of the clan’s laird, Storm MacKeefe, the rest of the three friends were sons of the Madmen MacKeefe. Logan was the son of Aidan. Caleb’s father was Ian, and Ethan was the son of Onyx.

  Since it was nearly winter, most of the MacKeefes were in residence at Hermitage Castle on the border right now. The MacKeefes claimed the castle in a battle against the English and had controlled it for years now. But some of the MacKeefes chose to stay in the Highlands, even though the upcoming winter would most likely be a hard one.

  The hills of the MacKeefe lands were spotted with long-haired cattle and black-faced sheep that were able to stay warm in the winter cold. They were used for milk and to feed the clan. Ethan and his friends normally stayed here most of the year to tend to them so they’d have food for their clan through the winter.

  “Nay, no’ death,” said Hawke, lifting a tankard of Mountain Magic to his mouth. Mountain Magic was the strongest whisky in all of Scotland, brewed by Hawke’s great-grandfather, Old Callum MacKeefe, who was older than the hills. He swore the Mountain Magic was what kept him alive so long. “Ethan claims to have seen another ghost last night.” Hawke’s red tail hawk, Apollo, screeched from up in the sky. He looked up at it, using his hand to block the sun from his eyes. “Or at least, that’s what he says.”

  “A ghost? Did I hear ye say somethin’ about a ghost?” A young woman named Bridget stood nearby talking with her father, Brigham. She craned her neck and looked over toward the fire. Her father was the chronicler of the Scottish king.

  “Bid the devil,” mumbled Ethan to his friends, running a hand over the head of his wolfhound that lay at his feet. “I dinna want those two anywhere near me.”

  “Why no’?” asked Caleb. “Bridget and her faither are very nice.” Caleb looked up and smiled as the girl and her father started toward them. His eyes lit up and he looked like a lovesick boy. Caleb was the smallest of Ethan’s friends, but also the fastest. His curly dark hair hung down to his shoulders, reminding Ethan of one of the wooly Highland sheep.

  “They watch everythin’ we do and listen to everythin’ we say,” complained Logan in a low voice, not being fond of the visitors either. “I dinna ken why they followed us here to the Highlands. I wish they would have stayed back at Hermitage Castle instead.” Logan looked a lot like his father, Aidan, being the only blond out of their group of friends. His pet of choice was a wolf named Jack that usually stayed away from everyone, hiding in the shadows. His wolf accompanied him wherever he went and was an asset when it came to hunting during their travels.

  “Dinna ye want to be mentioned in the king’s book – the Highland Chronicles?” asked Caleb. “After all, Hawke is mentioned in the book now, as well as all of our faithers.”

  “Sure I do,” complained Ethan, spearing a piece of meat on a stick and holding it over the open fire to cook. “Who wouldna want to be? It’s one of the highest honors.”

  He pulled his cloak closer around him. The breeze was becoming colder each day, and with it would come the winds of change. “I just dinna want to be mentioned in the book as the man who fears ghosts, that’s all,” he continued.

  “Well, it’s better than no’ bein’ mentioned at all.” Logan sat down on a rock next to Ethan. He stabbed a piece of meat with a sharp stick and held it over the fire to cook. Caleb sat down next to him. “I dinna think I’ll ever get my name in that book.”

  “Ye two should have seen Ethan last night,” said Hawke with a chuckle. “I never saw him look so pale as when he thought I was about to leave him on the isle . . . with the ghost.”

  “Did somethin’ happen last night?” asked Bridget, overhearing the end of their conversation as she approached the group of men. “Please, tell us all about it.” She looked around for a place to sit. Caleb immediately jumped up and surrendered his seat to the girl. He stood right behind her, smiling all the while.

  “Aye, do tell us,” said Brigham, holding on to the Highland Chronicle book that he used to record the deeds of the MacKeefes that were worth mentioning to the king.

  “Nothin’ happened,” mumbled Ethan, pulling the meat out of the fire and inspecting it. “I lost my hound and then I found it. That’s all.” He blew on the meat and, with two fingers, pulled it off the stick. It was hot so he dropped it atop his lap on his plaid to cool. Trapper whined, eyeing the food. “It’s no’ yers, boy,” he told the dog. “I’ll get ye somethin’ to eat when I’m finished. But right now, I’m famished.”

  “We went to the isle with Oliver, looking for his sister’s doll,” explained Hawke, biting into an apple. “And then Ethan disappeared and came back covered in horse dung.”

  Ethan’s friends all laughed.

  “And I was blamin’ the stench on his dog,” said Logan, reaching out to pet the wolfhound on the head. “I’m sorry, Trapper.”

  “Och, I am no longer wearin’ the soiled plaid, and I washed in the loch last night and froze my arse doin’ it,” said Ethan in his defense. “So if I hear another word about it, the one who says somethin’ will be the next to go for a little swim – courtesy of me.”

  Suddenly everyone was quiet and busied themselves looking away from Ethan.

  With his head still down, Ethan glanced up at Hawke and scowled. He wanted to muffle him right now, because he knew where this conversation was leading and he didn’t like it.

  “I am guessin’ by the way the lass was cryin’ all night that ye didna find the doll,” said Brigham, walking around the fire and sitting down on a stump used as a stool.

  “Nay, we didna,” said Hawke. “Of course, Oliver and I could have used a little more help.” He glared back at Ethan when he said it.

  “I’m confused,” said Bridget, looking at Hawke and then over to Ethan. “Werena ye with them, Ethan? And how did ye get covered with horse manure?”

  “Aye, I was there.” Ethan answered without making eye contact with the girl. Instead, he looked down at the food on his lap. Another minute and it would be cool enough to eat. He was already salivating, just thinking of the rich beef. “I was momentarily distracted when my hound took off chasin’ someone,” Ethan explained. “Of course, I had to follow Trapper to the castle to bring him back.”

  “The castle?” asked Brigham with interest. “Do ye mean the one that is said to be haunted?”

  “That’s right! Blackbriar Castle,” said Bridget with a nod. “We’ve heard in our travels that a ghost inhabits it. Supposedly, a woman was murdered there years ago and she can still be heard screamin’ as she is pushed from the tower over and over again.”

  “Heard . . . or seen,” mumbled Ethan into his cup as he took a swig of Mountain Magic. />
  “Seen?” Bridget’s blue eyes grew wide and she leaned forward so as not to miss a single word. “Did ye really see the ghost of Blackbriar Castle while ye were there? How excitin’. Please tell us all about it.”

  “He no’ only saw a ghost, but he thinks he saw Alana, too,” Hawke told them.

  “Alana?” The chronicler looked up, confused.

  “Faither, Alana was his betrothed who left him on their weddin’ day,” explained Bridget softly.

  “She no’ only left him, but she made a fool out of him,” Caleb joined in.

  “That’s right,” added Logan. “She never planned on marryin’ Ethan at all. It was only a ploy – a distraction. She worked with her thievin’ faither. While we were distracted with the preparations for the weddin’, they stole our livestock and tried to sell it to the MacDougals.”

  “Really?” said Bridget looking over at her father. She took the Highland Chronicles from him and put the book on her lap. “So Ethan’s bride was really naught but a bandit?”

  “Nay!” shouted Ethan, not wanting anyone to talk of this hurtful incident again. Part of him wanted to badmouth his past betrothed for what she did. It angered him and hurt him deeply. But somewhere in his heart, Ethan was still in love with Alana, and might always be. After seeing her at the castle, he tossed and turned all night going over scenarios in his head, wondering which of them was true. He was so confused and upset that just the mention of Alana’s name made him crazy.

  Ethan grimaced and ran a hand through his hair, cursing himself inwardly for ever going to the island in the first place. He didn’t know how to answer Bridget because he didn’t want any of this getting into the Highland Chronicles. Then again, it didn’t matter, because before he could say another word, Caleb’s pesky pine marten jumped atop Ethan’s lap. It stole the piece of meat, and slinked away into the shadows before he knew what happened.

  “Och, nay!” shouted Ethan, jumping to his feet. “Get back here ye doitit bandit!” Just that word, bandit, made his heart ache again, thinking of what Bridget had just called the woman he once loved and wanted to spend the rest of his life with. But that was a long time ago, and his relationship with Alana was over.