A Wee Highland Predicament: A Duncurra Legacy Novel

by Ceci Giltenan

  She sighed and relaxed against his chest. “I’m very tired.”

  “I expect so.” Having been up for the better part of two days, he was too. “I’d like to stop and rest, but we need to make certain we’re well away from the Galbraiths. So we’ll keep riding for a while, but ye can try to get a little rest here on my lap as we go. We’ll stop once we reach a safe place.”

  She yawned. “Aye, that sounds like a good idea.”

  She was asleep in minutes—as trusting as a lamb.

  He rode with her sleeping in his arms for several hours while the waxing crescent moon was high, lending it’s light. But a few hours before dawn, when the moon was low in the sky, clouds began to thicken. It became too dark for them to ride safely—which meant it was too dark for anyone following them to ride safely either.

  He nudged her awake. “Ailsa?”

  “Mmmmm. Aye?” She yawned.

  “I think it is safe for us to stop and rest for a while. We’ll leave the track and go into the forest, but it’s too dark to risk riding. I’m going to dismount and guide Captain. Hang on and keep yer head down to avoid low branches.”

  In the quiet of the night he heard the soft babbling of flowing water. He led them into the forest until he reached the source, a small, rapidly flowing burn where Captain could drink his fill. Then he backtracked a few hundred yards. He took an extra plaid from his bundle and handed it to her. “Wrap up in this and try to get a little more sleep. We’ll leave at first light.”

  “Thank ye. Are ye not going to build a fire?”

  “Nay, lass,” he said as he put oats in a feedbag for Captain. “There are only two of us, and no one to stand watch. We are safe enough here in the dark, but a fire would be a beacon for anyone wishing to do us harm.

  “Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “It’s just that I’m cold.”

  He finished tending Captain and turned toward her, prepared to tell her she’d have to make do. But seeing her standing there, swathed in his plaid, looking very young and fragile, he couldn’t. “Well then, ye can lay next to me if ye wish. Ye’ll stay a bit warmer that way.”

  Her face lit with a smile. “Thank ye.”

  The next thing he knew, he was curled up on the cold ground with her snuggled up against his chest, wrapped in his extra plaid.

  If he hadn’t been so tired, the nearness of such a comely lass would have made it hard to fall asleep. But he’d promised to keep her safe so he couldn’t very well seduce her. Besides, it would take at least three solid days of riding to reach Castle Grant. He needed some sleep or he’d never make it.

  ~ * ~

  As Ailsa had nodded off to sleep the night before she’d added one more thing to her list of “firsts”—sleeping in a man’s arms. She had quite liked it. His heat against her back kept her warm all night. She missed it when she woke. Dawn barely pinked the sky but he was already up, had saddled Captain and taken him back to the burn to drink.

  She sat up, wrapping his plaid tighter against the early morning chill, and watched him. Caught up in her own predicament, she hadn’t paid much attention to him the night before. Now she realized he was a very well-formed man. Extremely tall and broad chested, his sandy brown hair was streaked by the sun and hung to his shoulders. He was also very strong. She thought back to the previous night when he’d run through the forest with her on his back as if she were no heavier than a child. And he seemed to be a very good man. He had saved her from the six men who’d kidnapped her and was taking her home.

  She sighed. He really was quite attractive. She imagined his arms around her, kissing her as Fingal kissed Gillian and another sigh escaped her lips. But a little voice deep inside said, Ailsa, other than the fact that he’s a Macrae, ye know nothing about him. Don’t get carried away…yet.

  He returned to where she sat, leading Captain. “Ah, ye’re awake. Good.” He reached into a bag tied to Captain’s saddle and took out an oatcake and a piece of dried beef. “Here, break yer fast with this and we’ll get started.”

  “Thank ye,” she said and took the food he offered. In truth, she was very hungry and it took all of her restraint to keep from gobbling it all down like her dog, Duff, would have.

  When she was finished, she washed it down with water from a costrel he handed her.

  “We should mount up now. We want to get as far north as we can today.”

  “Aye. But…um…I need a bit of privacy.”

  He sighed. “Fine. But don’t be long.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” She hurried away toward some bushes that would afford her the privacy she needed. When she had finished attending to nature’s call, she hurried to the edge of the burn to wash her hands and face in the frigid water. She ran her wet hands through her unruly curls trying to smooth them down a little before twisting them into a braid. Realizing that she had nothing to tie it with, she ripped off a strip of the ribbon trimming the hem of her kirtle. Having made herself as presentable as possible, she returned to the place where he waited with Captain.

  “I’m ready to go now.”

  He arched a brow at her. “It’s about time. I’ll wake ye as soon as I rise tomorrow morning so ye have plenty of time for yer ablutions without delaying us more.”

  She huffed. “Didn’t ye wake up grumpy? I wasn’t that long.”

  “Ye were long enough. Let’s go.”

  He lifted her onto the saddle, mounted behind her and urged Captain forward, out of the forest.

  They rode in silence for quite a while. But Ailsa had always found silence didn’t agree with her. Eventually she had to speak.

  “So, other than the fact ye’re a Macrae, I know nothing about ye. Tell me about yer family.”

  “There isn’t much to tell.”

  He offered nothing more.

  “Do ye have any brothers and sisters?”

  His answer, “I have two brothers,” was followed by another long stretch of silence.

  Finally she said. “I have two sisters. They’re both married and have children. Are yer brother’s married?”

  “Aye, they are, and they both have children too.”

  “Are ye married?”

  “Nay.”

  “Betrothed?” she asked, frustrated by his short answers.

  He chuckled. “Nay. Are ye?”

  “Oh, good heavens, nay. Fingal and Gillian—”

  “Laird and Lady MacLennan?”

  “Aye, them. They want to arrange a betrothal for me. That was one reason they let me go to Court—so I could meet some of the men they were considering. But I didn’t really like any of them. Years ago, a friend of mine, Dougal MacKay—he’s in training at Brathanead—he said he’d marry me if no one else would.”

  Lucas chuckled again. “So is that who ye’re holding out for?”

  “Nay, not really. He’s nice and everything, but he’s more like a brother or a cousin. I don’t think I could actually marry him. Besides, he wants to go home to Naomh-dùn when his training is finished and I want to stay at Brathanead.”

  “That poses a bit of a problem then.”

  “Aye, it does. But I’m not going to worry about it for now.”

  “That’s probably best. Don’t borrow trouble.”

  They rode in silence a little while longer but once again, Ailsa couldn’t stand it. “So what do ye do, when ye aren’t saving kidnapped women, that is? Are ye a Macrae guardsman or man-at-arms?”

  “Something like that. I help with the training of our men. Ye said ye had two sisters. Tell me about them.”

  “Well, my oldest sister is Gillian…”

  Chapter 3

  It shouldn’t have surprised Lucas that Ailsa was talkative. She had talked him in circles about going back to Edinburgh the night before. Unfortunately, when they’d started out that morning, giving her short answers containing little information only made her more inquisitive. He hadn’t wanted to lie to her overmuch, but if he was going to avoid that, he’d have to shift her focus elsewhere. Otherwis
e, she would have peppered him with questions all day.

  To his relief, he asked one simple question that gave him the answer to his dilemma.

  “Ye said ye had two sisters. Tell me about them.”

  “Well, my oldest sister is Gillian—she’s been Lady MacLennan for over six years now. I don’t know if ye heard about that when it happened. Laird MacLennan—I mean the old Laird MacLennan, Malcolm not Fingal—he didn’t have any heirs. I mean Malcolm didn’t have any heirs. Fingal has heirs. He and Gillian have two wee lads and two wee lassies. Well, Malcolm sort of had heirs. I mean we were his heirs. Our da and da’s sister, Aunt Meara, were some sort of cousins of Malcolm. Let me see if I remember this right. Our great-grandda was a brother of Malcolm’s grandda. Aye, I think that’s it.” She looked over her shoulder and frowned. “Where was I?”

  He smiled, finding her way of telling a story, charming. “Ye were telling me about Gillian becoming yer chief.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Well when Laird Malcolm and our da died.” She shook her head. “That was terrible. I don’t think I’ve ever cried that much. I loved da so dearly. Our da would have been laird if he hadn’t been killed. That meant Aunt Meara was next in line, but she thought Gillian should be made chief because she didn’t have any heirs. I mean Aunt Meara didn’t have any. Well, Gillian didn’t either then, but, ye know, she was only nineteen. In the end, after arguing for days, the elders made Aunt Meara Lady MacLennan, only she died a few months later. That’s a whole other story. So then the elders made Gillian chief, but only until they could decide who she should marry and that person would be laird.”

  Lucas actually did know this story. Everyone did. King David summoned Fingal MacIan to Edinburgh and made him Laird of Clan MacLennan. But he wanted to hear Ailsa tell it. “So the elders picked Fingal MacIan?”

  “Oh, nay, the king picked him. I’ll never forget that night…” and she was off.

  All he needed to do was keep asking her simple questions and she would launch into a detailed answer. He was completely entranced.

  After she had explained how Gillian came to be chief and how the king had forced her to marry Fingal, she made it clear that they had grown to love each other. Gillian and Fingal, that is, not Gillian and the king.

  “So Fingal MacIan turned out to be a good laird?”

  “Aye, he did. One of the first things he did after becoming laird was give me a puppy. He gave one to Gillian too. We’d always wanted a pet but mama wouldn’t let us have one. She got really mad when he gave us the puppies. She said he should have asked her before giving them to us because she didn’t approve of keeping animals inside.”

  Lucas was surprised by that. “She told her laird that he couldn’t give a dog to his wife?”

  “She did. But he said he was the laird of Brathanead and he did approve of keeping animals as pets. He said she could ban them from her private chamber, but they are welcome everywhere else.”

  “Good for him,” said Lucas.

  “Mama still tried to change his mind. She said I was too young. I wasn’t, I was twelve. But he told her I needed Duff. That’s my dog’s name. And he said he knew I’d take care of him.”

  “And what does yer mama think now?”

  “My mama died over two years ago.”

  She was quiet for a moment and he worried that asking her about her mother had made her sad.

  He gave her waist a squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

  She patted his hand. “Thank ye, but I’m all right. I loved mama, but Gillie and I were much closer to da. Fallon was mama’s favorite.”

  Then she launched into stories about Fallon and Gillian. She became even more ebullient when she talked about something she loved and she clearly loved her sisters. Even if they sometimes treated her like she was still twelve. And she loved her brothers-in-law. Although she confessed that when she was twelve she thought her heart was broken forever because her sister Fallon married Quinn MacKenzie and she wanted to marry him. That is, Ailsa did…but Fallon did too.

  When she’d finished talking about her family, she circled back to Duff. “He’s always with me, wherever I go. Except to Edinburgh. He sleeps in my chamber. Well, honestly, he sleeps on my bed. He usually just lays near the foot of the bed. He’s better than a warming pan—my toes never get cold. Sometimes, on really cold nights, he lays against my back. I like that. I stay really warm then.” She smiled. “Sleeping next to ye is nice too. I was much warmer.”

  Well, she certainly was not cold and stiffly proper as he believed most young noblewomen to be. She’d snuggled up to him in the night easily enough and openly admitted liking it. She also never made a single negative comment about riding on his lap. In a word, she was refreshing. At first, he feared that she might drive him completely daft with her constant chatter, but to his surprise she didn’t.

  At one point, she asked, “Am I talking too much?”

  He chuckled. “Not at all. I quite enjoy it.” And he realized he meant it. He much preferred her conversations to his journey to Edinburgh with his brother’s dour guardsmen. That was as long as he could keep her focus off of himself. So instead of trying to get her to stop talking, he kept her talking all day, about herself and her family. She was delightful, funny and positively brimmed with energy and enthusiasm. Ailsa MacLennan stood in stark contrast to most of the young noblewomen he’d met before.

  Still, when they finally stopped for the night, he enjoyed the few moments of quiet he gained while Ailsa sought some privacy. Thinking about her, he smiled to himself as he rubbed Captain down. Over the course of the day, he had discovered quite a lot about Ailsa’s entire family, her friends, the young noblemen who trained at Brathanead and, of course, Ailsa herself. Perhaps her most favorite topic was her dog Duff. Lucas found her affection for her pet completely endearing. She was a sweet, unaffected lass. He hoped Laird MacLennan would consider her personality when choosing a husband for her. He hated the idea of her being married to a man who would quash her bubbly nature.

  Where in hell had that idea come from? Ailsa MacLennan was nobody to him. She was an opportunity to bring the Grants a tidy ransom and perhaps ease the sting of William’s disappointment once he learned that Lucas would never marry Moira MacNaughton. There was no earthly reason why he should care a whit about who Ailsa would marry someday.

  When he was finished settling Captain for the night, he checked his bag of provisions and frowned. He had only brought enough food to feed himself for the three to four days it would normally take to get to Castle Grant. Now that meager supply had to feed two of them. To make matters worse, riding double meant he had to go a little slower than he normally would so as not to overwork Captain. They had spent two nights on the road so far and he figured it would take two full days and a bit more to reach his home. He had eleven dried oatcakes, a small amount of dried beef and two apples left. They would run out of food tomorrow.

  He could hunt for some small game, but then he’d have to build a fire over which to cook it. With only two of them, traveling alone, that was pure folly.

  Of course if his brother’s men caught up to them it would solve that problem. But keeping up the charade that he was a Macrae and they were heading to Brathanead would be nigh on impossible.

  When Ailsa returned, he gave her an oatcake and some of the remaining beef.

  She took the food and sat on the ground with her back against a tree. “Thank ye, Lucas.”

  “Ye’re welcome. Eat up and then we’ll try to get a bit of sleep.”

  She frowned at him. “Aren’t ye eating too?”

  He shook his head. “Nay, I’m not terribly hungry,” he lied. “All I’ve done today was sit on Captain’s back. That’s not enough to work up an appetite.”

  When she had finished eating, he handed her his extra plaid.

  “Thank ye.” She took it but her brow furrowed again.

  “What troubles ye lass?”

  “I was just thinking…ye’ve been so kind to me and this was
probably meant to keep ye warm at night.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “But I do worry and it’s big enough to wrap around both of us. Since we slept next to each other last night anyway…well, maybe we could both stay warmer if we share it.”

  The offer surprised him, but he wouldn’t turn it down. “Aye, we would stay warmer. But Ailsa, not many noblewomen would make such an offer.”

  Her frown deepened. “I don’t see why not. We slept next to each other last night. It’s a cold night and that would seem to be a practical solution. There’s nothing wrong with keeping warm.”

  He chuckled. “Aye. I can’t argue with that. But I’m a stranger to ye.”

  She laughed. “No, ye aren’t. Ye’re Lucas Macrae and we’ve spent the day together getting to know one another. Besides, I trust ye.”

  God’s bones. He wasn’t Lucas Macrae, he’d spent the day utterly avoiding letting her get to know him and she certainly shouldn’t trust him. He intended to ransom her, not take her to her home as she believed. And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Why do ye trust me?”

  “Well, because ye risked yer life to save me. Ye didn’t have to do that. If those Galbraiths had awakened before we escaped, it would have been six to one and ye might have been killed.”

  Might have been? It pleased him to know she considered that there was at least some chance he would have prevailed over six men.

  Ailsa continued. “I figure any man who would do that wouldn’t be planning to hurt me. Besides, ye swore to keep me safe.”

  He nodded. “And so I will. Aye, I’ll gladly share that plaid with ye.”

  She smiled. “Good.” She glanced around. “I suppose this spot will do as well as any.” She spread the plaid on the ground and curled up near one edge of it.

  He laid down behind her and pulled the rest of the plaid over them both.

  Once again, she snuggled into him. “Good night, Lucas. Sleep well.”