A Highlander Born From Chaos (Highlanders 0f Kirklinton Book 2)

by Kenna Kendrick

  “What shall we dae with her? We cannae allow a stranger to go wanderin’ over our territory,” the one who had looked at her with suspicion said.

  “Aye, tell us who ye are and where ye are goin’, then we shall decide what to dae with ye,” another replied.

  “I … I have business with … with Hamish MacBryde. I was comin’ to see him. I am nay threat to ye; my name is … Caitlin, Caitlin Macready,” she replied, not wishing them to know her true identity.

  “Oh, really? And what business dae ye have with the Laird to be? We have never seen ye before, state yer business, and we shall see if it warrants us akin’ ye to him,” came the reply.

  “He saved me, rescued me from a stream over yonder some days ago. I was foolish enough to fall into it, but he came to my aid. Here, see, I have his cloak about me, he left it with me, and I wished simply to return it,” she replied, as the men nodded.

  “Very well, we shall take ye to Hamish, then we shall know if ye are tellin’ the truth or nae,” was the reply.

  They took her roughly by her arms and led her from the dell and up onto the moorlands above. From there, Evie could see down to the MacBryde castle below. It was quite unlike the castle at Kirklinton, built partly into a cliff edge, which rose steeply above it. A stream flowed on one side, and behind the low walls, there lay a fortified farmhouse and peel tower. It was hardly a castle, more a farm with defenses built around it, and Evie was unsurprised that the MacBrydes had sought an alliance with the English, given their precarious situation.

  She was led down a path through the heathers, the men muttering amongst themselves and across a wooden bridge that led to the farmhouse gates. There, they paused, and one of the men made his way inside, leaving the others to guard Evie, who looked around her nervously. What would happen if Hamish refused to see her or worse had her imprisoned in this lonely place? She felt a fool for her bravado, but a moment later, the man emerged, nodding to the others and signaling her to follow him.

  “It seems ye were tellin’ the truth, lass. Come now, Hamish is waitin’ for ye,” he said, and as the other let her go, she followed him inside.

  In the farmyard were several horses tethered up and hens pecked in the dirt, as the lowing of a calf came from some distant outhouse. Evie glanced around her, as several clansmen stood watching, and a dog began to bark. They laughed at the look upon her face and shook their heads.

  “What is wrong, lass? Ye look like ye have entered the lion’s den. There is nothin’ to be afraid of,” one of them said.

  Evie made no reply and followed her captor inside, where she found a warm and welcoming parlor. A fire was kindled in the hearth, and a freshly baked loaf of bread lay upon the table, butter and jam at its side.

  “Wait here, Hamish will be along soon,” he said, nodding to her and disappearing through a door at the side of the room.

  Chapter Eight

  Evie stood meekly in the parlor, looking around her with interest. It was well furnished, and reminded her of the Armstrong castle when she was a child. There, her parents had always kept an ordered house, filled with all manner of trinkets and fine furnishings, while the castle at Kirklinton was stark and bare. She was just admiring a tapestry hanging from the wall when a noise behind startled her.

  Hamish was standing in the doorway, a puzzled look upon his face. He smiled at her, taking a step forward and pointing to a chair by the hearth.

  “Will ye sit down, lass? I am surprised to see ye, though at first, I didnae know who it was to expect … Caitlin,” he said, and Evie blushed.

  “I … I couldnae tell yer men my real name now, could I?” she said, and Hamish nodded.

  “Aye, perhaps nae. But why have ye come here? ‘Tis dangerous for an Elliott to walk this far across the moorlands. Surely ye knew ye would be caught,” he said.

  Evie felt embarrassed. She had really not thought much about it, but Hamish was right, of course, she had been a fool to think she could simply walk to the MacBryde castle and find him awaiting her.

  “I came to … I came to thank ye and to apologize. I was rude the other day, and if it were nae for ye, then I would have died, for that, I should have been grateful, rather than run away in fear. If ye had meant me any harm, then ye would surely nae have rescued me from the stream,” she said, regaining some of her confidence.

  “Aye, that much is true,” he replied, shaking his head, “as I said at the time, if that is how ye treat a man who has just rescued ye from certain death, then I would be horrified to learn how ye treat an enemy.”

  “Well … that is why I came, I daenae see ye as an enemy. Ye were kind to me and kind to lend me yer cloak, which now I have come to return,” she said, taking off the cloak and holding it out to him.

  “Daenae see me as an enemy? But we are sworn enemies, our two clans. But I have nae need for the cloak, lass. Ye keep it,” he replied, smiling at her, though with uncertainty in his eyes.

  “Oh, nay. I couldnae keep it, ye were kind enough to give it to me, I wanted to return it. I would have done so sooner, but … well, my mother and father were suspicious. Ye have been spotted on the heathers above the Armstrong castle. They are lookin’ for ye, ‘Tis nae safe for ye to go there anymore. I wanted to warn ye,” she replied.

  “Ye wanted to warn me? Now there’s a thing and make nay mistake. An Elliott warning a MacBryde of danger, a danger from her own clan,” he said, laughing and shaking his head.

  “Would ye rather I let my father and brothers catch ye? They would treat ye far worse than yer men treated me, I can assure ye of that,” she replied, “but why should we be enemies, ye and I? Ye were kind enough to help me, it deserves a similar kindness.”

  “Forgive me, but the thought was amusing. To think that a MacBryde and an Elliott might be any more than enemies is surely somewhat amusin’, but I am grateful to ye for tellin’ me this, lass. I had nae thought anyone had seen me. It seems I shall have to find a lonelier spot to which to escape,” he replied.

  “They have been searchin’ for ye, but I made nay mention of ye. I told my brother that a mysterious stranger had rescued me from the torrent but had nae told me his name,” she replied.

  “That is kind of ye, lass. But why tell yer family a lie?” he asked, looking at her with interest.

  “Because … well … because I felt guilty for my behavior. Ye were kind to me, and I repaid that by runnin’ away from ye. It was a foolish thing to dae, and I am sorry. If ye wish to walk on the moorlands, then why shouldnae ye? And if I wish to walk among the heathers here, then why shouldnae I?” she asked.

  He smiled and sighed, shaking his head.

  “Because, as ye and I both know, lass, our clans are at war. Yer father sees my father as a traitor, and my father sees yer father as one too. But my father is sick, he has taken to his bed these past months, and I doubt he will last the winter. The old quarrels are comin’ to an end, I have nay argument with the Elliotts and see nay reason why we cannae have peace between our clans,” he replied.

  “But the MacBrydes sided with the English, against the Scots. That does make yer father a traitor,” Evie said, still not entirely convinced by his words.

  “A moment ago, ye were speakin’ of us as friends, now ye call my father a traitor under his own roof. If he heard such talk ye would be thrown into the dungeon,” Hamish replied, shaking his head.

  “Well, he is a traitor, at least that is what my father says, but ye and I have nay such quarrel,” Evie replied, adopting a more defensive tone.

  “And for what ‘Tis worth yer father is one too,” he replied.

  “And why is that?” she asked, looking at him quizzically.

  “He has sided against us, yer grandfather made all manner of agreements against us with the other clans. We had nay quarrel with any of them in the past. Nae until yer grandfather and father turned them against us,” Hamish replied.

  “But ye brought that upon yerselves by sidin’ with the Elliotts, ‘Tis hardly our fault,” she re
plied, beginning to wonder if she should have come here at all.

  But Hamish just sighed and shook his head

  “There is nay point in ye and I arguin’ in such terms. What would ye dae, lass? If yer crofts were burned by English raiders and yer castle was nothin’ more than a peel tower and a fortified farmhouse? We couldnae have withstood an English invasion, and my father had seen what happened to the Armstrong castle when he was a bairn, and yer mother made an orphan under the protection of Alistair Elliott. If we had remained enemies of the Musgraves, then that would have been our sorry fate too,” he replied.

  Evie nodded. He was right of course, her clan was fortunate to have the protection of the castle at Kirklinton and strong allies in the northern clans. This farmhouse, with a handful of men to guard, it could never have withstood an English siege, and it was clear that a pact with the devil had been better than all-out destruction. She looked around her at the homely parlor and across at Hamish MacBryde. He just as handsome as she recalled, his face set in a smile, as he watched her over the tips of his fingers.

  “I would dae the same, of that I am certain,” she replied.

  “Aye, and I can hardly blame my father and grandfather for what they did. But the time is surely comin’ when such old rivalries should be set aside. Even the English will settle for peace if the terms are right,” he said.

  “Ye mean the Musgraves? Well, they are the worst of the worst,” she began, but he held up his hand and shook his head.

  “Be careful what ye are sayin’ lass, ‘Tis nae safe to criticize the Musgraves here. They are friends to us, and I need nae remind ye of the reception ye received at the hands of my men. If they had their way, ye would have been locked up,” he said, giving her a warning look.

  “But the Musgraves kept my mother prisoner, they would have killed my father, and for years my poor grandmother was at their mercies. A servant in the house of Sir Percy Musgrave and his son,” Evie replied.

  “And if it were nae for our alliance, then I am sure I would be too, along with my family. Daenae judge us simply for preservin’ ourselves from death,” Hamish replied.

  Evie was about to reply, and argue that no Musgrave could be trusted. The MacBrydes should side with their own kinsmen. The English were their common enemy, and surely any sane person could see that. But a commotion from beyond the door of the parlor made her pause, and Hamish turned nervously, as it burst open and a woman, her face set in anger, stood before them.

  “Hamish, there you are. I have been looking for you, what is all this? Who is this girl? I have been calling for you, and I am told you are entertaining some peasant,” the woman said, her English accent betraying her lineage.

  “Isabella, this is … E … Caitlin Macready, a visitor from across the heathers. Caitlin, this is my betrothed, Isabella Musgrave,” Hamish replied, rising from his chair.

  Evie let out an involuntary gasp at the name of Musgrave, for she had no idea the alliance between them and the MacBrydes ran so deep. But it was not only surprising as to whom Hamish was betrothed to but also that he was betrothed at all, he had made no mention of a fiancée upon the moors. Though, why would he? She thought to herself. A strange sense of sadness came over her, for this woman seemed a cruel and heartless sort, even though she had spoken only a few words. A woman far from suited to be betrothed to a man as kind and thoughtful as Hamish MacBryde. But such thoughts were foolish, for she was an Elliott, and she had come here to thank him, not to court him.

  “I can see she is a visitor, but what does she want? We do not entertain peasants here. The sooner we return to Musgrave Hall, the better, I am growing tired of this place, always filled with undesirables. Come on, then, speak, girl?” Isabella said.

  She could not have been much older than Evie herself, and she had a haughty look to her, her eyes set in disapproval. She was not an unattractive woman, but her demeanor and words made her so. Her long black hair hung loosely over her shoulders, and her dark blue eyes were narrowed towards Evie, who stood up and faced her with a meek expression upon her face.

  “Oh, please miss, I was just here to thank Hamish …” she began.

  “To thank him, for what?” Isabella said, turning to Hamish in surprise.

  “The other day, when I was walkin’ over the heathers by Kinclaig Rock, I saw the lass in distress. She had fallen into the torrent, and I rescued her, pulled her out from the water, and stayed with her until she had recovered. The lass was good enough to come and thank me and return the cloak I lent her to keep her warm on her journey home,” Hamish said, and Evie nodded.

  “Aye, that is right. If it were nae for Hamish, then I would have surely perished,” Evie replied.

  Isabella looked at her with disdain, as though she were saddened by the fact that Evie had not perished in the falls. She scowled, looking from Evie to Hamish and back.

  “How convenient for you, Hamish. To meet a peasant girl upon the heathers in such circumstances and find yourself in a position to rescue her. And now you entertain her in the parlor of your home, how nice for you,” Isabella said, her face still fixed in a scowl.

  “Please, Isabella, ‘Tis nothin’ untoward. E … Caitlin merely came to thank me and look, here is the cloak I was wearin’ that day, she has brought it back,” Hamish replied.

  “And I suppose you told her she could keep it, a present to her. Well, you have had your secret liaison, I suggest you send this little wench away,” Isabella said, pointing to the door.

  “I am nay wench,” Evie said, stepping forward in anger.

  “You are a feisty girl indeed, but let me tell you something, Hamish is betrothed to me, and if you have ideas contrary to that then I assure you that you shall feel my wrath. Now begone, before I have you thrown out by the guards,” Isabella said, pointing again towards the door.

  Evie drew herself up and threw Hamish’s cloak down on the floor.

  “I am nay peasant,” she said, not breaking Isabella’s stare as she passed her by, “thank ye, Hamish. I am grateful to ye for rescuin’ me, ‘Tis a shame that nay one can rescue ye from this woman and her haughty manners. Good day to ye,” Evie said.

  “Get out,” Isabella cried, and without warning, she flew at Evie, throwing her from the door and out into the farmyard, “I never want to see you again. Hamish is mine, do you hear me, now begone and take your filthy ideas of betrayal with you.”

  The door slammed shut, and Evie could hear Isabella shouting at Hamish from inside. Her jealousy was quite astonishing, and Evie could not help but feel sorry for Hamish if life with Isabella was the price he and his family paid for English protection. She picked herself up off the ground and marched across the farmyard towards the gates, her temper was flared, and she could not believe that a man as kind and good as Hamish MacBryde was betrothed to a woman such as this.

  “Ye have met the mistress then?” one of the men who had caught her in the dell said, as he opened the gate.

  “Aye, and I shall be glad nae to meet her again,” Evie said.

  “Where are ye really from, lass?” the man said, but Evie made no reply and hurrying through the gates, she made her way up the path and away from the castle.

  It was only when she had gone a mile or so that she paused and turned to look back. The castle lay below and to the south lay the pass, which led from the valley and over the border towards England. Given the proximity, it was no surprise that the MacBrydes had allied themselves with the Musgraves. An English force could overrun this valley in a few hours, and the castle of the MacBrydes would offer little protection against a sustained assault. But Evie had been surprised at the sight of Isabella Musgrave. What relation was she to Sir Percy and his son, both now dead? Did she know the history of her family’s encounter with the Elliotts? And she shuddered to think what her mother would say if she knew in whose parlor, she had spent the afternoon. Turning her back on the MacBryde castle she made her way quickly across the heathers in the direction of Lochrutton, mindful of the errands sh
e still had to run and hoping she could return without being noticed

  But time was against her, and she had been in the MacBryde castle far longer than she had meant to be. The sun was well past its zenith, and it would still take several hours of walking before she arrived at the village, and more still before she made her way home. Evie scolded herself for her tardiness and began to run, as much to keep warm as for speed. The autumnal moors were cold, and, in the shadows, there was a chill in the air, such that Evie wished she had kept Hamish’s cloak as he had instructed.

  She had almost reached the fork in the path, where the tree in which she had hidden the cloak marked the way when to her horror, she saw three familiar figures running towards her. It was her father who shouted first, telling her to stop, his face angry and confused. Evie stood meekly and waited, and as the three surrounded her, she knew she was in trouble.