The Highland Chief

by Dana D'Angelo

  “Darra will nae be going anywhere with ye,” Rory growled. He caught the shirtfront of Sir Dudley’s tunic, forcing him to release her. Trying to get out of his grip, the older knight threw a punch at Rory’s head.

  Rory ducked the jab and plowed his fist into the other man’s gut, causing him to double over. Gasping and sputtering, his hand reached inside his boot. When he straightened again, a dagger was in his hand and a murderous expression was on his face.

  The quick movement of metal scraping across leather sounded, and Duncan held his claymore at the knight’s throat.

  “Stop this foolishness at once!” Lady Venora commanded. “Someone will get killed!” Her mother’s sudden outburst caused everyone to pause. “I did not come here to save one man, and see another three die,” she said, shaking with fury.

  “Rory, please, if you care for me at all, do not let him take me,” Darra said, her tone low and pleading.

  He stared at her and Sir Dudley, his face in conflict. But then he shook his head. “I’m sorry lass, but ye would be safer with your own people.” Inclining his head at his brother, Rory gave him silent instruction to lower his sword.

  Duncan slid his weapon back into its sheath while he planted a foot on the other man’s abdomen and shoved him away. Sir Dudley stumbled and when he found his footing again, he stood, furiously brushing away at the dirt on his velvet tunic.

  “I dinnae want anyone tae perish,” Rory said. “Eanruing is healed now.” He paused and nodded to Darra, his expression unreadable. “I wish ye safe passage.”

  “I thought Highlanders were resilient, and willing to fight for what they wanted.” Darra’s countenance was devoid of blood while her blue eyes shone with unshed tears. “I see that I was wrong.”

  The devastated look on her beguiling face felt like an arrow piercing his gut. He averted his face, unable to meet her scrutiny. In his heart he discerned that she wasn’t referring to the scuffle that occurred moments ago.

  He clenched his hands, and tried to stomp down the awful, sick feeling that he was making a dreadful mistake. But he had already put Darra in danger, and she almost lost her life. The last fight involved fists. This battle involved weapons, and he couldn’t risk having her, or anyone else get caught in the crossfire.

  “I promised tae let ye go once Eanruing was healed,” he said, “’Tis prudent that ye leave now as we dinnae want trouble.”

  Lady Venora looked curiously at him before taking her daughter’s arm and leading her toward the chamber door. Meanwhile Dudley gave him a contemptuous sneer and followed in their wake.

  Duncan came to stand beside him as they watched the trio retreat from the chamber.

  “Ye did the right thing, Rory.”

  “Aye,” he said, flatly. A muscle worked at his jaw. He accepted that he made the honorable decision by letting her go. But why did it feel so wrong?

  Chapter 18

  I thought Highlanders were resilient, and willing to fight for what they wanted.

  Until the day Rory died, her last words would haunt him. Darra was right however. He wanted her, but he didn’t fight to keep her. She had to know that he was doing this for her benefit. If she became caught in the middle of the skirmish…he didn’t even want to imagine what would happen. Darra lived a quiet life before he entered into it, and since then she had fallen into one dangerous situation after another. It was best that she went back to her home. At least then she would be safe. But even with this knowledge, it didn’t make things easier to see her go.

  Rory stood at the window, watching her procession move toward the gatehouse, every second taking her further and further away from him. He closed his eyes in an attempt to block out the scene. But the act only made another scene come to the forefront. He could never forget the expression on her face when he told her to leave. Her face twisted as if she fought to prevent herself from crying. This realization cut his insides, because while he tried once again to shield her from suffering, he caused more of it. He did her a favor by extracting himself from her life. It was better that she went back to England, and be with her own people. And when she married Dudley, she would be content with the creature comforts that the old knight would provide. Rory had nothing to offer that would rival the knight’s wealth.

  Still, the thought of Darra with another man made him miserable. ’Tis because ye are a damn fool, a voice inside his head insisted. Ye shouldnae have let her go.

  “Rory?” Mairead’s soft voice said, interrupting his thoughts.

  He looked over at his sister, and saw the concern and worry on her visage. He smiled at her to put her at ease, although he didn’t really feel like smiling. She walked closer to him. “I offered for them tae stay here until first light, but Darr — Lady Darra,” Mairead corrected herself, “said that she wanted tae leave immediately…”

  “Aye,” he said. “I can see that.”

  Mairead stood at his side as if she was uncertain what else to say. Likely she had never seen him in this state. He was not one to wallow in his melancholy, but right now his heart felt weighted, as if a boulder crushed down upon it.

  She touched his arm, sympathy etched on her youthful countenance. Her demeanor was so much like their mother’s. “Do ye want me tae bring ye something?” she asked.

  “Go on with your duties,” he said gruffly, “I’ll be fine.”

  “All right,” she said, unable to conceal the doubt in her voice. “But if ye need me, I’ll be in the great hall going over the accounts with the steward.”

  He nodded and went back to survey the courtyard. The last of Darra’s troop had disappeared, and the loss became absolute. He pushed away from the window, no longer wanting to stare at the emptiness.

  “What is wrong with ye, lad?” Eanruing said from his bed. Since Lady Venora had administered the medication, the fever had left him, and he seemed more vigorous and alert. He shifted in his bed and sat up so that he could get a better look at Rory. “It appears tae me that ye are sulking.”

  “’Tis because he’s in love,” Duncan said from the other side of the room.

  His brother’s statement jolted him. Were his feelings that transparent?

  The rest of his siblings had gone off to their chores, but he forgot that Duncan remained in the chamber with him and his father.

  “Love,” his father said, rolling the word slowly in his mouth.

  “Aye,” Duncan said. He was seated and drinking spiced wine, but now he got up. “I think I’ve change my mind about what I said about ye doing the right thing.” He tipped the cup to his lips and drained the last of its contents. “Ye need tae go after the lass.”

  “I thought ye hated her,” Rory said, unable to keep the surprise from his voice.

  “Aiya, hate is a word that is a wee bit strong,” Duncan said, wincing. “In any case, I have been known tae be wrong on occasion.” He put his cup aside and walked over to him. “If ye let her go, ye will become an embittered, unbearable arse. Who can live with that? Nae me. Do yourself and everyone else a favor, and go claim your lass. ‘Tis obvious that she loves ye too.”

  He was about to argue with him when Eanruing joined in. “He’s right, ye ken.”

  Rory twisted to see his father, shocked that he would side with Duncan. Eanruing stared, his expression grave and sorrowful.

  “If ye really love the lass, then ye owe it tae yourself tae go after her,” his father continued slowly. “Dinnae repeat history, and make the same mistake I did. If ye do, ye will surely regret it.” He set his head back down on his pillow. “Now go!”

  ***

  “Riders follow us,” Sir Jarin said.

  The sound was faint at first, but there was no mistaking the steady thud of horse hooves drumming in the distance. Both her mother and Darra stopped their horses and looked behind them.

  “Who can it be?” Lady Venora said, squinting.

  The leading horseman was crouched low on his horse, moving at a breakneck speed. Two other riders rode behind him.


  Darra nudged the horse with her knees to wheel the horse around and urge it forward. “’Tis none of our concern,” she murmured.

  She was past caring. Any feelings she had were trampled by Rory MacGregon. She had given him her body and her heart, although it was obvious that he didn’t want either. At the moment she just wanted to get back to Lancullin Castle. She would join her mother in working with the sick, and in time, Rory would become a faded memory.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sir Dudley riding beside her. Darra recognized that he still had intentions of marrying her. He had spoken at length about how her life would improve once she became his wife. On a couple of occasions, she caught her mother’s sympathetic glance. But Darra’s dilemma gnawed at her gut. How was she to reveal to him that she was no longer a virgin? Or that she would rather cross a pack of feral dogs than be wed to him?

  The sound of pounding hooves came closer and closer until they were upon them.

  “Darra!” a voice shouted.

  Her heart froze; she would never be able to forget that deep voice. But she allowed her horse to continue forward. Likely if she turned around, she would melt under the influence of his devastating charms.

  “Darra, wait!”

  “Would you like to stop, milady?” Sir Jarin asked Darra.

  When she hesitated, her mother spoke up. “Let us find out what the MacGregon wants.”

  Sir Jarin nodded and then raised his hand in the air. “Halt!”

  “We have a distance to cover, and should not be stopping,” Sir Dudley said, irritation in his voice. He started to move forward with his men, but the Lancullin guards stayed where they were.

  “What do you want with my daughter, Rory MacGregon?” her mother said when Rory was within earshot. “I believe your father is healed, and our work is finished here.”

  “Nay, not finished, milady. I desire tae speak with Lady Darra.”

  The rest of the MacGregon siblings rode in, stopping their horses beside their brother’s.

  “Whatever you have to say can be said for all to hear,” Darra said, although she averted her face, still not trusting herself to look at him. Knowing that he was close by caused her heart to beat uncontrollably. But then she couldn’t help it any longer, and she peered over at him. As soon as she saw his comely face, the air sucked out from her lungs. His red hair was windswept, and he appeared as wild as the highlands. It was absolutely sinful how a man could be so powerful and vulnerable at the same time. She felt a stabbing pain in her heart and she turned away again.

  Rory maneuvered his horse until he was in front of her. “Darra.”

  Though she didn’t want to, she raised her eyes and gazed into his green depths. A jolt went through her body, and the energy of it left her flushed.

  “I love ye,” he said, not caring that others heard him. His eyes were trained on her and nothing else. He jumped off his horse and came to her. Taking her hand, he laid it on his cheek. “With each day I’ve come tae ken ye, ye proved more and more precious tae me. I was a fool tae let ye go, lass, wrong tae even suggest ye leave. I have never liked weak lassies.” He swallowed and searched her face. “And from the moment I caught sight of ye, I found ye tae be strong and brave. The memory of ye, a wee lass, brandishing a large broadsword still brings a smile tae my face. And your melodic voice. It echoes in my mind, and haunts my sleep.” His emerald eyes glittered as emotion flowed into his voice. “I dinnae think I can live without ye, lass. Say that ye will stay here — with me. Say that ye will be my wife.”

  She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. All she could do was stare at Rory. In fact everyone in the troop gaped at him in stunned silence. This was a large and menacing Highland Chief who was capable of causing grievous damage to anyone who crossed him. Yet here he was, pouring his heart out to her, telling her that he adored her.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I —”

  “What nonsense is this?” Sir Dudley demanded. Then his voice turned icy. “Lady Darra is marrying me, not you. Step away from her, and crawl back to the hell hole from which you were born.”

  He pulled his broadsword from his scabbard and moved his horse closer to Darra. Hatred spewed from his small eyes, and if Rory’s brothers were not at his back, he would have run Rory through with his sword.

  “Ye ask the impossible,” Rory said, reaching casually behind him and withdrawing his claymore from its sheath. “The lass is mine.”

  “She does not belong to you —”

  “Aye, she does,” he said, leveling his gaze on the other man, making his meaning clear. “And I belong tae her.”

  Sir Dudley’s eyes bulged at Rory’s implied words.

  “Ye see,” Rory continued, “A Highlander is resilient, and always fights for what he wants. But he also has the support of his clan,” he said, glancing over his shoulder.

  Sir Dudley jerked back and saw the truth in what Rory said. While he spoke, he failed to notice that more than a dozen of Rory’s clan members were arriving, a trail of dust following them as they thundered closer. Soon enough the men halted and surrounded the entourage. Every single MacGregon appeared merciless and menacing; their weapons were drawn and ready to attack at Rory’s command.

  “Ye can stay and fight, but if ye choose tae do sae, I’ll wager that ye willnae leave Scotland alive.” Rory stared intently at the older knight. “However if ye relinquish your claim on Lady Darra, and leave peacefully, my men will let ye pass. ‘Tis your choice.”

  Sir Dudley sat on his horse, his face purple with rage. He looked over at her, a moment of indecision reflected on his features. He couldn’t know if Rory was bluffing about their relations. And if he married Darra, and she became pregnant, he bore the risk that the child she carried might not be his.

  The knight’s lips curled into a sneer. “You can have her,” he said, shoving his sword forcefully back into its scabbard. “No whore is worth dying for.”

  “Have a care, sire,” Rory’s grip on his sword tightened. “I may yet change my mind, and kill ye for your insult.”

  “Men!” he snarled, and kicked his horse into action.

  The Highlanders parted to allow him and his small troop to pass. As Darra watched the knight and his men disappear, the tension released from her shoulders. She was finally free from Sir Dudley. Turning back to Rory, she was about to make a comment when she discovered him watching her.

  “Ye still havenae answered my question, lass. Will ye marry me?”

  “Aye,” her face softened, and she bent down and placed a hand on his cheek. “I will marry you.”

  A grin appeared on his rugged countenance, and he threw back his head and let out a loud whoop. Reaching up, he pulled her down from the horse.

  “I love you, Rory MacGregon,” she said, lightly caressing his jaw. “I have loved you for a long time now.”

  “I’m glad,” he said. Then bending his head, he gave her a soul-shattering kiss while his clan members lustily hollered and cheered them on.

  When the noise dwindled, her mother maneuvered her horse closer to them, and delicately cleared her throat. “Is this what you really want, Darra — to stay here?”

  Darra glanced over at her mother. She knew instinctively that if she gave any sign that she desired to vacate this place, her mother would assist her. But Darra already made her decision.

  “Aye, mother, I am staying here.” And then looking up at Rory with love warming her heart, she said, “For the highlands is where I belong.”

  Thank You Gift

  I hope you enjoyed the Highland Chief. As a thank you bonus, I’d like to give you a free e-copy of my novella Heart of a Knight.

  The two characters featured in this story are very close to my own heart. Others have generously rated this story 4.8 out of 5 stars, and I hope you enjoy it too.

  Simply visit my website at the link below, and you can be reading this book in the next few minutes.

  Many thanks,

  Dana D’Angelo
<
br />   Dedication

  For Daryn R. Carrillo

  Acknowledgment

  As always, thanks to my husband for everything. Also my thanks go out to my friends and fans. I’m so grateful for your enthusiasm and support of my works. You’re the ones that keep me writing!

  About The Author

  Dana D’Angelo is the only girl from a family of nine children. As a teenager, there was a constant battle for the T.V. remote, which she lost, so she was forced to find her amusement in books. A friend got her into romances, and soon she read as many as ten romance novels per week, spending hours with her nose pressed between the pages, skipping meals and cutting out sleep. Life, it seemed, wasn’t as exciting or interesting as in the Medieval or Regency eras.

  It wasn’t until she was married with two young kids that she decided to take a stab at writing her own historical romance novels.

  She is intrigued with the idea of writing romantic stories that could bring hours of enjoyment to readers, help them escape from reality, and perhaps remind them how sweet love is and should be. These are the things that she enjoys as a reader, and these are the things that she wants to give back as a writer.

  Dana lives in a city east of Toronto, Canada. When she’s not writing or reading, she’s dining at local restaurants with her husband and kids and enjoying spectacular foods of the world.

  Website: www.dana-dangelo.com

  Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Dana-DAngelo-Historical-Romance-Author/1401184486768369

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/DanaD_author

  Glossary

  Some words I used in this story are not commonly used in standard English, so for those interested, I've compiled a short list of the terms and their meanings.

  Aiya — Ouch

  Arisaid — Scottish woman's dress similar to a Highlander's great kilt

  Blether — Babble, talk nonsense