MacKinloch 03 - Tempted by the Highland Warrior

by Michelle Willingham

  When he obeyed, she led the horse forward and guided the animal towards Callum, who was still waiting. He let out a sharp whistle, and the horse obeyed, returning to him. She watched him dismount and he adjusted her mare’s saddle, returning her own horse to her.

  Upon the saddle, he had wrapped the hair ribbon he’d taken so long ago. And when she saw it, she understood he would no longer keep it with him. He was letting her go.

  She cast one look back at Callum and he disappeared over the hill.

  The soldier helped her mount her horse and it was all Marguerite could do to keep from breaking down into sobs. Instead, she gripped the frayed bit of silk and led her horse a few paces in front of her father. She made it clear that he was not to send any of his men after the MacKinlochs. If necessary, she would stand between them.

  The Duc’s expression was grave, nor did he speak to her. When a few minutes had passed, Marguerite ordered, ‘Send the soldiers back to Duncraig, Monsieur le Duc.’ The word ‘Father’ was heavy upon her tongue and she found she could no longer call him that.

  Guy de Montpierre studied her, then gave the order. The soldiers drew back and only when they were gone did she retreat. Lord Penrith drew his horse beside Marguerite, taking the reins of her mare and leading her toward the coast.

  She went with him, fully aware of his anger. ‘You brought my father here, didn’t you?’ He must have gathered the Duc’s men, as soon as she’d departed. Or had he followed her?

  He gave a nod. ‘I knew MacKinloch would come back for you.’

  She raised confused eyes to his. ‘I didn’t even know he was alive.’

  ‘A man like Callum MacKinloch won’t die easily. Especially when he has a woman like you to live for.’

  Marguerite didn’t know what to say, so she fell into silence as they rode the remaining distance to the shore line. A large ship awaited them just off the coast. Servants had loaded up smaller boats and were bringing supplies back and forth. Her own trunks were among them.

  The earl helped her down from her horse and gave the mare over to a servant. ‘You think I do not understand you,’ he said. ‘You think I can’t possibly know what it is to love someone you cannot be with.’ A stoic expression came over his face. ‘But you would be wrong.’

  In his eyes, she saw the frustration of loss. The earl was marrying her out of obligation, nothing more.

  ‘We will not be happy, either of us,’ she said.

  ‘No,’ he admitted. ‘But you, at least, will not ask for more than I can give.’ A twisted smile overtook his face. ‘It would not be so bad, Marguerite.’

  The earl took her hand and walked with her towards the boat. He never let go of her, and when they were on board, he ordered the men to row them to the larger ship.

  Marguerite turned to look at the grey water, feeling as if pieces of herself were drifting away on the waves. When she raised her eyes to the hills, there was no sign of Callum or his brothers. They had gone.

  The emptiness filled up every part of her, covering her with such desolation she could hardly breathe. Her hands were cold in the earl’s palms when he guided her on board the larger ship. Marguerite left his side, walking to the bow. She rested her arms upon the wood, feeling the wind sweep past her face and hair.

  All around her, the men continued loading the ship and her father boarded among the last of them. From her peripheral vision, it appeared that he wanted to speak with her. His expression looked tired, as if he’d aged a dozen years.

  The afternoon had shifted into evening, and the Duc came to stand by her side. ‘We’ll sail south for a few hours and then drop anchor for the night,’ he informed her.

  Normally, they would not sail until the morning tide, but she knew this was to put more distance between her and the MacKinloch men.

  ‘Marguerite, did you hear what I said?’ He touched her arm and she jerked back.

  ‘I have nothing at all to say to you.’

  ‘We let him go,’ her father said. ‘I kept my word to you and allowed him to live.’

  Slowly, she faced him. He stood before her as the man she’d once adored, the man who had been the only parent she remembered.

  ‘Why?’ she asked softly. ‘Why is it so important to you that I wed the earl and not Callum? My sisters have already made strong marriages. You don’t need this alliance.’

  ‘You are my last daughter. I want what is best for you.’

  ‘You don’t see what is best for me. I want to live with the man who will love me for the rest of my life. Other men see only my rich dowry. But Callum sees me.’

  The wind grew colder against her skin and the ship began to move upon the water. ‘None of that matters to you, does it?’

  ‘Let him go, Marguerite. He’s not good enough for you.’

  She didn’t bother wasting words, trying to convince a blind man to see the truth. Instead, she walked away from him, needing to distance herself from everyone and be alone with her thoughts.

  Her mind was in turmoil, like the waves sloshing against the side of the ship. With each mile that passed, she saw her chance at happiness slipping away.

  Not once had Callum ever given up. He’d travelled countless days to find her. Even at the end, he’d been willing to fight to bring her away with him.

  The icy water seemed to taunt her, pulling her away from the man she loved. The servants had set out a light meal for the others and they called out for her to join them. She ignored their summons, not at all hungry.

  Behind her, she heard the sounds of the men eating and voices whispering about her. No doubt they were congratulating themselves for saving her from the MacKinlochs.

  She hated them for it.

  * * *

  When darkness had spilled over the sky, overshadowing the sun, the earl returned to her again. He stood beside her, his hands resting upon the side of the boat. ‘Are you well, Marguerite?’

  ‘You know that I am not.’ She let out a sigh, her hands twisting together.

  ‘Words will not reassure you, will they?’

  She shook her head. ‘If the one you loved were standing on that shore, and you were in my place, what would you do?’

  He grew very still, not answering for a long time. Then he admitted, ‘I would leave the ship.’

  Marguerite faced him and took both of his hands in hers. ‘Both of us are behaving like cowards. You don’t truly wish to wed me, for you love someone else.’

  ‘It is different for me.’

  ‘Is it? You’re the Earl of Penrith. You own dozens of estates—there is no reason why you should not seize your own happiness.’

  ‘Already I am treated as an outcast, because I have his favour. Many men have sought to kill me for what I am. The Church believes—’

  ‘Are you happy, living like this?’ she interrupted.

  The earl remained silent, staring out at the water. ‘No. But I haven’t a choice.’

  ‘Is there no one else who could be your heir?’

  He shook his head slowly. ‘My brothers are dead. I am the last of my family, and if I do not have an heir, I forfeit my lands to the king.’ A melancholy edged his face and he added, ‘You see, you are not the only one with much to lose.’

  His arm came around her shoulders and the gesture brought her a slight comfort. ‘Marguerite, if I could find a way out for either of us, I would take it.’

  She swallowed hard, feeling the fear overtake her. ‘There is a way. But you won’t like it.’

  His hand tightened upon her shoulder. ‘Tell me.’

  * * *

  ‘Let her go, Callum,’ Alex advised. ‘The Duc released us. If you seek her again, I doubt he’ll let you live.’

  ‘I’m riding to the coast,’ he responded. ‘To watch her go.’

  His brother Bram rested his hand upon his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry, Brother. We tried.’

  ‘She did it to save us,’ he said quietly. She’d sacrificed herself for all of them, granting them their lives.

>   ‘We’ll set up camp here,’ Alex said. ‘Go to the shore, if that’s your wish. We’ll be here when you return.’

  Callum gave them a nod and mounted Goliath, urging his horse towards the beach. The animal kept up a strong pace, but when they reached the place where the ship had departed, the memories overtook him.

  Here, he’d taught Marguerite to swim, before warming her with a fire and joining with her. He remembered what it was to be inside her, watching her face flush with a shattering pleasure. And the night he’d been in chains, she had come to him, offering herself.

  God above, but he loved her. He loved her quiet beauty and her courage. The way she’d taught him to write, offering him a way out of the suffocating silence. Letting her go was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

  Even now, he found it impossible to turn his back on her.

  Callum watched the ship sailing further out. Then he drew his horse south, riding parallel to its path until it grew too dark to see the white sails billowing in the wind.

  Drawing Goliath to a halt, he watched the ship disappear into the mist. No other woman would ever mean as much to him as Marguerite. But she was gone from him now and he had no choice but to release her.

  He lowered his head to his horse, closing his eyes against the pain of losing this woman. But there was nothing more he could have done.

  Nothing at all.

  * * *

  ‘You cannot do this,’ the earl insisted.

  ‘My father will never let me go, unless he believes I’m dead,’ Marguerite said. ‘It’s the only way.’

  ‘And if you do die?’

  ‘Then I won’t have to suffer, living without Callum.’

  ‘It’s reckless and foolish.’ The earl shook his head, denying it. ‘I can’t allow it.’

  ‘Listen to me,’ she whispered. She reached up and held his cheeks between her hands. ‘I want both of us to be happy. Go back to England. Bring the one you love into your home and let me go.’ She stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss against his cheek. ‘I want to do this, Lord Penrith.’

  ‘Peter,’ he corrected. Though he didn’t smile, she saw regret upon his face. ‘I’m going to lose your dowry, aren’t I?’

  ‘If I can ever find a way to repay you, I would give up every last jewel I possess.’

  He let out a breath. ‘I know I’ll regret this.’

  ‘Trust me,’ she promised. ‘All will be well.’ He embraced her, but within his arms there was no hint of attraction between them. He might as well have been a close brother.

  ‘I will pray for you,’ he offered.

  ‘And I for your own happiness.’ Though inwardly the terror roiled against her stomach, it was time to put her fears aside and seize what she wanted. Even if it meant the greatest risk of all.

  ‘There’s just enough light,’ she said. ‘I have to go now.’

  ‘You’re certain?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Then take this with you.’ He pulled a spare oar from the side of the boat. ‘It may keep you from drowning.’

  She rested it against the side of the boat and embraced him again. ‘Help me with my outer garments, won’t you? The weight will pull me under if I wear all of them.’

  Lord Penrith leaned in and kissed her as a lover would, letting the others believe what they wanted. The kiss was warm and, though it did nothing to arouse her, it gave him the chance to unlace her surcoat, loosening it from her shoulders. When he pulled back, he blocked her from view and Marguerite lifted it away, dropping it upon the floor of the boat. Though she worried about the weight of her cote and chemise, she might need the warmth when she reached land later.

  She took the oar in her hand and sent the earl a smile. ‘Seek your own happiness, my lord. Just as I will.’

  And with that, she stepped overboard, holding tightly to the wood as the frigid water closed over her head.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The water was so cold, it seemed to freeze her limbs in place. Marguerite struggled with the oar, but it wasn’t helping her to float. A wave drenched her face and she fought to breathe.

  Keep going, she urged herself. But she wasn’t at all a strong swimmer and her feet could not touch the bottom.

  Behind her, she heard the shouts of the men and another splash as someone came after her. The sound of them made her aware that if she didn’t begin swimming as hard as she could, they would only bring her back again.

  ‘Marguerite!’ came the earl’s voice. Seconds later, she heard him swimming towards her. Then a strong arm came around her waist, holding her above water. ‘Little fool,’ he whispered in her ear, ‘you’re not strong enough, are you?’

  ‘I h-have to try,’ she whispered back. ‘Let me go.’

  But instead of dragging her back to the ship, she realised he was swimming towards land, bringing her with him.

  ‘I tossed your gown into the water, so they wouldn’t see it,’ he murmured, keeping her above the waves. When she was closer to shore, he asked, ‘Can you touch the bottom?’

  When she let go of him, the water was at the level of her mouth while she stood on tiptoe. ‘Y-yes.’ The freezing cold water made her limbs ache, but she could make the rest of the distance on her own.

  ‘Hide yourself in the hills,’ he said, letting her go. ‘Godspeed, Marguerite.’

  She heard him swimming back to the ship, and she whispered back, ‘Godspeed.’ That he had done this for her meant the world. She hoped that he would seek his own happiness with the one he loved. A man like the earl deserved no less.

  Her body was leaden with fatigue, but she stumbled her way to the shore. Unable to see anything, she could only judge the distance by walking forward, the water growing more shallow. Each minute was endless, her body shivering violently.

  When she reached the sand, she collapsed on her knees, unable to take another step. Behind her, the shouting continued and she heard her father’s anguished voice.

  Get up, she ordered herself. She had to keep going, no matter how difficult it became. Inside, she envisioned Callum’s face, trying to gain strength from it. If somehow she could find him, all of this would be worth it. She wouldn’t allow herself to think of how far they’d sailed or how impossible it might be to find him.

  Time blurred and she climbed the hillside, not knowing where she was going or how she would ever reach Callum. She didn’t know the land and the sky gave no hint of light.

  She walked, feeling the dizziness overtake her. The golden netting and barbette she’d worn seemed to weigh against her head and neck. She loosened them until they fell upon the ground.

  Her thin gown was clammy against her skin, the wind making her shiver more. It was hard to breathe and she felt as if she were gasping for air.

  How long had she been gone? Whether minutes or hours, she couldn’t tell at all. Her hands were numb and when she tried to hold up the hem of her gown, she couldn’t make her fingers work.

  She kept moving, no longer aware of the direction. Was she going back towards her father’s castle? Or further inland? Without warning, she lost her footing and stumbled hard, her body collapsing to the ground. The grass was soft beneath her, breaking the fall. How long was it until morning? Perhaps if she lay down to rest, she could see better when the sun came up.

  Curled up upon the ground, she stared up at the night sky, wondering if she’d done the right thing. She didn’t know if the earl would lie on her behalf or what he would say to her father.

  Her heartbeat was racing in her chest, and she struggled to calm herself. She’d lost her shoes in the water, and her bare feet were so cold, she could no longer feel them.

  Sleep, a voice inside her urged. Don’t fight it any longer.

  * * *

  Callum woke before dawn, the nightmare pulling him out of sleep. Restlessness made him uneasy that something was wrong. He couldn’t place the feeling, but he found himself packing up his tent and sleeping blankets with a sense of urgency.

  He ate a b
it of dried meat and an oat cake that he’d brought along as travelling food, then prepared Goliath for the journey home. Shielding his eyes against the sun, he stared below at the sandy beach and the glittering water. There was no sign of the ship. Marguerite was gone, as he’d expected.

  He should rejoin his brothers and return home. But something held him here. Callum found himself riding along the coast again, searching for any sign of the ship, though it was useless.

  They had already gone, taking her with them.

  The grief and anger struck him so hard, he let Goliath ride at his fastest pace, letting the raw emotion out. With each mile, he raged against the injustice of being helpless to take Marguerite with him. He would miss her soft smile and the way she looked at him as if he were the only man who mattered.

  There would never be another for him. Not like her.

  He lowered his face against Goliath’s mane, resting for a moment before he pulled on the reins to turn back. His brothers would be waiting for him.

  Then he glimpsed something white upon the ground. He eased Goliath closer and when he saw it, his heart began pounding.

  It was Marguerite’s barbette and the golden net she’d worn in her hair. How had it come to be here?

  His hunter’s instincts heightened and he began tracking the bent grasses, leading his horse while he traced the path. It led away from the sea, the motion shifting in one direction, then another…as if she were disoriented.

  He followed the path, unsure of what he would find. Trepidation coursed through him while he scrutinised every footprint, every hint that led him closer.

  And when he reached an open clearing, he spied the fallen body of a woman lying motionless upon the ground.

  Callum broke into a run, offering up a thousand prayers while his mind grew frozen with fear. When he reached the woman’s side, he turned her over.

  It was Marguerite.

  Her skin was like ice and she didn’t respond to his touch at all. Callum rested his hand over her heart and could barely detect it beating. God above, how had she come to be here?

  She was only wearing a thin cote with no shoes and no head covering. He didn’t know how long she’d been lying there, exposed to the elements.