The Renegade (The Renegade, Rebel and Rogue)

by Christine Dorsey

  “No, but...” Zoe stopped arguing when Will stuck a gag in her brother’s mouth.

  “Come on with ye.” Cawley hooked his arm about her waist and pulled her toward the door. “We’ve Keegan MacLeod t’ think of now.”

  With one last look toward her brother, Zoe obeyed.

  ~ ~ ~

  Ten minutes later she was huddled in the misty cold on the outskirts of the village. François stood nearby, wrapped in a plaid, his wig drooping in the moist air. He held the horses’ reins and occasionally whispered something soothing to them.

  “What’s taking them so long do you suppose?” Zoe tried to peer through the thickening fog.

  “We must be patient Mademoiselle Zoe.”

  “But what if—” Zoe stopped in midsentence when she heard a rustling sound. Almost immediately three men materialized, running toward her. Even in the darkness she recognized Keegan’s form and let out a little squeal of delight.

  Keegan stopped in his tracks, then whirled toward the sound. “Zoe?” In five strides he was by her side, cupping her shoulders. “What in the hell are ye doin’ here?”

  “I...” This wasn’t exactly the welcome she expected.

  “It was her plan, damn the man. Her brother with the keys.” Will grabbed at Keegan’s arm. “Now come on with ye.”

  “Wait.” Keegan shrugged off his hand, keeping his firmly on Zoe. His fingers tightened. “I want ye to stay here.”

  “What? No, I won’t.” Zoe shook her head so hard the plaid draped over her hair slid down.

  “Listen, Zoe.” Keegan ignored the hushed suggestions that ’twas no time for discussions. “This is the best place for ye... with yer brother.”

  Zoe could hardly believe what he was saying. “With you,” she countered, reaching out to grasp his coat. “I want to be with you.”

  “Zoe, livin’ in the hills as a fugitive is no life for ye, and ’tis—”

  “What’s that?” Will hissed, continuing as the sound of voices grew louder. “We need t’ ride, and ride now.” With that he swung into the saddle. Without further comment the others did the same.

  They rode off toward the hills, Cawley and Will, François, Keegan, and Zoe. If any soldier followed, they were soon lost in the wild Highlands.

  By late the next evening they were back at the caves, filling their stomachs and relating their adventures. Telling of sneaking up behind the soldier guarding Keegan’s prison and knocking him flat. Of unlocking the door and riding for the hills. No one said anything to Zoe about her brother, no one questioned her loyalty. And Keegan was the only one to question her sanity for her part in the rescue.

  He pulled her aside, asking her to take a walk with him. It was late, dark, with only the moon to light the way as they followed winding footpaths between high, craggy rocks. But they knew the way well. Zoe was certain she could find the spot she thought of as their own with her eyes closed.

  High above the churning waters of the sea, the ridge was secluded, padded with moss and bracken, and large enough for two people to sit... or recline. Zoe had no doubt they would be doing the latter before they retraced their steps to join the others. She could tell Keegan was annoyed with her for her part in his rescue, but he must understand she could do no less. Not loving him as she did.

  “I saw the wild swans flyin’ south today as we rode.”

  They had settled, their backs against the rocks, and Keegan’s words were not what she expected to hear. “Did you?”

  “Aye.” He took a deep breath and drew his knees to his chest. “The heather is dried up, the rowen berries fallen.” He touched her cheek. “Even the wild roses are gone. All sure signs that winter’s close.”

  “Mmmm.”

  “We’ll never make it through a Highland winter, Zoe.”

  His words were bad enough but it was his tone, flat... defeated, that tore at Zoe’s heart. “Of course we will,” she countered. “If we all work together.”

  He shook his head. “Doin’ what? Not harvestin’ t’ be sure. Nor fishin’ either from up here.”

  “Then you’ll have to raid some more Royalist Scots.” Zoe had never been in favor of that particular enterprise. But to keep Keegan’s spirits up she would suggest just about anything.

  He seemed to realize her tactic, for he smiled, that smile that sliced through the bitter winds to warm her heart. “T’ my chagrin I fear my raidin’ days are done.” He took her hand, bringing it to his lips. “Ye shouldn’t have risked yerself t’ rescue me, Zoe.”

  “Don’t you know I’d do anything for you?”

  The question was stated simply and though he couldn’t see her well enough to tell, Keegan knew her pure grey eyes would be sweet and honest and totally sincere. But he didn’t want her willing to do anything for him. Despite the fact that the reverse was true. For he knew in his heart how very much he loved her. And that, yes, he would do anything for her.

  “Zoe,” he began, for he enjoyed the sound of her name, “none of ye should have come. Ye should have left me there.”

  “To be hanged?” Zoe clutched his hand. “I couldn’t bear that.”

  “Ye could, sweetling. Ye’re much stronger than ye think. I’ve come t’ see that ye can do... bear, most anythin’.”

  “Don’t talk so,” Zoe leaned into his shoulder, listening for the steady beat of his heart. “It frightens me when you do.”

  “It’s sorry I am t’ frighten ye.” His palm curved along her scarf, then slid beneath the wool to the silky hair beneath. Keegan took a deep breath and pulled her closer. “Will told me what ye did, holdin’ a gun on yer brother.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry it ever came t’ that.” Zoe only shrugged, but Keegan knew how difficult it had been for her—knew how much she loved her brother. He was counting on that love being mutual, and strong with forgiveness.

  Deciding it best to change the subject, else he become maudlin, Keegan began, “I’ve been thinkin of somethin’ ye once said t’ me.”

  Zoe’s laugh was swept away by the wind. “I’ve said so much to you.”

  “Aye ye have, and some of it even made sense.” He kissed the tip of her nose when she looked up at him, her expression indignant. “Do ye want t’ know what’s on me mind or not?”

  “Tell me.”

  “Ye once said that I should let go of the past. Look toward the future.”

  “Yes and you said Scots didn’t do such things, as I recall. It was in their blood to cling to the past.”

  “I may have been exaggeratin’ a bit,” Keegan said with a chuckle. “I’ve come t’ think that it may be best for the clan to leave Scotland. Yer idea of the New World sounds appealin’.”

  “Do you really think so?” Zoe squirmed about till she could see his face.

  “I do. There’s land t’ be had, and trees, rivers full of fish, did ye say, and even mountains?”

  “So I’ve read.”

  “Aye, that seems t’ be the best solution.”

  “Then you wouldn’t have to raid, or worry about the soldiers.” Zoe sat up. “We could build a house, and plant crops. Oats. I can help you.”

  Keegan pulled her back into the crook of his arm. “I don’t think yer hands were meant for pushin’ a plow.” He lifted one and kissed the palm.

  “I’m strong, Keegan. You showed me that I am. I’ll always be grateful for that.”

  Keegan shut his eyes, “ ’Tis not yer gratitude that I want, Zoe Morgan.” It was a blatant invitation and one Keegan was not especially proud of. But he’d made a decision, the hardest he’d ever made in his life, and he needed the warmth of the woman he loved.

  He needed Zoe.

  Her arm swept around his neck, her upper body molded to his. When their lips met Keegan knew he’d never wanted anyone more. Never needed anyone more.

  His hands brushed aside the plaid covering her head and he dug his fingers into her thick hair. When the wind caught her curls he pulled the scarf back up. “ ’Tis cold tonight. I don’t want ye catchin’ yer de
ath.”

  “Then ’tis up to you to warm me,” Zoe whispered into his neck.

  Keegan wriggled down till he lay flat, Zoe snuggled by his side. “I think we can manage to heat up the night a bit,” he said, then preceded to do just that. Though he wished they could be naked, wrapped about each other, the weather was a consideration. So instead of seeing her, Keegan relied on his other senses.

  His hands worked their way beneath her bodice, finding and skimming across her breasts. The nipples puckered tighter with his touch. He buried his face in her hair, loving the sweet fragrance, muttering to himself, and perhaps to her, how she smelled like a rose.

  He drank of her lips, kissing and probing with his tongue, drowning in her.

  She was wet, writhing in his arms when he lifted her skirts and found the delta of tight curls. His fingers pressed, her body arched, and Keegan heard the sound of her ragged breathing above the wind. “Zoe.” He said her name because he couldn’t stop himself.

  When he settled atop her, she opened for him, offering her body in sweet surrender. Her legs wrapped around him and Keegan reached behind to draw the plaid over her. His hair, loosened by the wind, hung around them like a curtain, and Keegan felt as if there were only the two of them snuggled together in a forgotten cubby in the rocks, sheltered from the world.

  They were joined, and Keegan wished for one foolish moment they could stay like this, hidden away. Just the two of them.

  But life was not like that, and even as his hips began the ancient rhythm, even as she arched with each thrust and clung to him, Keegan knew it was not to be. He clutched her bottom, lifting her up, demanding as much as she could give, pressing deep within her body.

  Each surge brought her closer. He could sense her hovering on the precipice. Then his fingers skimmed down between their bodies and like a spark to tinder, she ignited, pulling him into her, making them one.

  And letting him forget just for a moment what he must do.

  “Mmmm, Keegan,” she sighed when her breathing had steadied enough for her to say anything. “Do you suppose we can find a place like this in the New World?”

  Keegan’s throat tightened. “Aye,” he managed, rearranging their clothing to conserve their warmth.

  “I want you to promise me that we will.” She settled her arms around his neck. “And even though we have a giant bed with a thick down mattress, we’ll still sneak away to our special spot now and again.”

  When he said nothing, Zoe lifted her head. In the dim light she saw his profile. With her finger she traced the straight nose and the firm lips she adored. “Keegan?”

  “What? Oh... aye.” He looked at her, at the guileless face that stared at him with such love. “Whatever ye say, Zoe.”

  He wanted so much at that moment to give her everything she ever wished for. And he knew he couldn’t. So he held her close and dreamed along with her, pipe dreams in the mist.

  ~ ~ ~

  In the morning he called François to his side. While Zoe and the others broke their fast he gave the little Frenchman a message. Despite the valet’s protests Keegan insisted he take it to Major Fox Morgan.

  “I am counting on ye, François. We all are.”

  “But Monsieur Keegan, there must be another way.”

  “There isn’t.”

  “Perhaps Mademoiselle Zoe can—”

  “Ye are t’ say nothin’ t’ her. Nothin’ t’ anyone except Morgan.”

  “But—”

  “Nothin’, François. Will ye do this thing for me?” When the Frenchman nodded, albeit reluctantly, Keegan clasped his shoulder. “Now go.”

  Keegan watched François scramble down the path before turning toward the rest of his clan. Then he joined them, ready to plant the seed of an idea in their minds.

  Twenty

  “What was his answer?”

  “Oui.”

  Keegan let his head fall back. He took a deep breath then straightened and nodded toward François. “Not a word of this t’ anyone. Do ye understand me?”

  “Oh, I understand all right.” François slid from the horse’s back. Keegan had grabbed the reins as soon as he entered the clearing. “I understand you’re going to get yourself hanged.”

  “Hush that talk.” Keegan glanced back toward the caves where what was left of his clan was huddled about the peat fire trying to stay warm. Zoe emerged from a cave, wrapped from head to toe in his plaid. She glanced up and waved, smiling at Keegan and François and started toward them.

  “I mean it François. Ye are t’ follow my lead and say nothin’ more.” If François answered Keegan didn’t hear before Zoe was beside him.

  “Where have you been François? Keegan wouldn’t tell us a thing. Goodness, aren’t you cold. Here.” She began unwrapping her own shawl but Keegan stopped her.

  “François can go warm himself by the fire.” His arm draped around Zoe’s shoulders. “He’s brought good news.”

  “What is it?”

  “Come, we’ll all hear it together.”

  ~ ~ ~

  They were leaving Scotland.

  Despite that she’d suggested this course weeks ago, and that Keegan had talked of the possibility, Zoe was surprised. “How did you manage to find a vessel to take us to the New World?” she asked him more often than he liked. She could tell he grew annoyed by her questions, even though he did his best not to show it.

  His answer was always the same. He had his ways. No one else questioned their chief. They were all excited about the prospect of starting new lives in a place called Carolina. Zoe had read of it, and told them any bit of knowledge she could remember. They were all so eager.

  All except François.

  The little Frenchman grew more morose the closer the day of departure came. They were to return to Castle MacLeod. The schooner was to meet them there, in the bay.

  “Is it that you do not wish to leave Scotland?” Zoe asked him one morning. François was sitting on a rock, staring out toward the sea. He was alone, and Zoe realized that in itself was unusual. He and Keegan were always together lately.

  He turned to look at her, his large nose twitching slightly as he glanced past her. “Where’s Monsieur Keegan?”

  Zoe swirled around to see if he was behind her. “I don’t know. Why?”

  “I was just wondering.”

  “Oh!” Zoe sat beside him on the rock. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? You’ve hardly said two words to me since you returned.”

  “Everyone’s so busy.” François peeked about nervously for Keegan. He didn’t want to talk to Zoe alone. He was afraid what he might say.

  “There is truth to that,” Zoe laughed. “Everyone seems thrilled to be leaving... except you. I thought you disliked the cold. And the mountains. And the fog. Or was I wrong?”

  “Ah, Mademoiselle Zoe, I am a great complainer. You should pay no attention to me.”

  “It does grow on you, doesn’t it?” Zoe looked about and hugged herself. “This land. Its people.” She glanced toward François and smiled. “When I first met Keegan he seemed so wild and untamed. A barbarian,” she said and laughed. “Now I’ve come to see that it’s not entirely a bad thing to be uncivilized... to a point.” She breathed in the salt-tinged air. “There’s a freedom here, along with the wildness, that’s... Well, that I admire very much.”

  “I think it is Monsieur Keegan that you admire very much.”

  “I think you’re right.” She gave her friend a quick hug. “Now don’t fret about going to the Americas. It will be fine. The important thing is, we shall all be together.”

  ~ ~ ~

  It rained the day they started down from the caves, icy arrows of water that penetrated to the skin. The land, the mountains and rocks, were concealed in a blanket of grey. Despite their destination it was a somber group that wound its way along the path. Each person carried on their back what they would take from their homeland. No one’s pack was heavy.

  It took them two days to reach the glen
. By then a weak sun was shining and the air held the promise of winter.

  Keegan hadn’t seen Castle MacLeod since the second fire. He could only shut his eyes and look away. Zoe was by his side, and she wrapped her arms about his waist and held tight. It was all Keegan could do not to cry out to the heavens.

  Three days later a sail was spotted on the horizon. By twilight the schooner was docked in the bay. The captain sent a message ashore. Keegan read it, then nodded his agreement. The sailor returned to the longboat and was taken back to the schooner.

  “What is it?” Until the moment Zoe saw the vessel she could hardly believe that they were really going. Now it seemed strange to her that there was a delay.

  “We’ll board on the morn,” was all Keegan said before turning away.

  She went to him that night, for it was obvious he wasn’t coming to her.

  Zoe found him outside the castle, sitting on the ground, staring into the night. He didn’t look her way even when she settled down beside him.

  “Ye should be inside, where ’tis warmer.”

  “It’s cold in there too.”

  “Aye.” He could easily recall a time when the castle was warm. When the fires were lit in the great hearths and music and laughter filled the rooms. Now there was naught but the howling wind. The castle was desolate. After they left, it would become even more so. In a few years Highlanders would come and quarry the stone. The factor would protest, but he was far away in England. If he ever did return it would be to find only a pile of rubble where there was once the seat of clan MacLeod.

  Keegan shook off that dismal thought. He had other worries to keep his mind occupied.

  He turned toward Zoe, lifting her chin with an icy finger. “I want ye to promise me you’ll be strong tomorrow.”

  “What are you talking about? Strong about what?”

  Keegan shook his head. “Just promise me, Zoe.” Before she could say anything he leaned forward, brushing her lips with his own.

  ~ ~ ~

  “You’re to set up camp here.” Fox strode toward his horse, his second in command, Captain Monroe, by his side. Fox and his men, twenty strong, had stopped near a placid loch, fringed by saffron weeds. On every side hills rose, as if piled one on top of another. It was a lonely place, but one that held a haunting pull to Fox. He tried to ignore the mood drifting over him. “If I haven’t returned by morning...” Fox hesitated. What should he have his company do in that case? “Ride for Fort William.” He paused. “Then continue to hunt Keegan MacLeod.” Though in truth if he didn’t return, there was little chance the renegade would ever be found in Scotland.