Wicked Highland Wishes (Highlander Vows: Entangled Hearts Book 2)

by Julie Johnstone

  Finally, in the midafternoon on the fourteenth day, Iain received a note from King David. As Lachlan made his way to the great hall for a hastily called council meeting, he prayed that it contained information that would soon release him from his pledge to Helena and his need to watch Bridgette.

  Lachlan made his way to the dais with the rest of the council members, which included Rory Mac, Angus, Angus’s cousin Neil, Ewan and Atholl—the oldest of the council members who had served on Lachlan’s father’s council before he died—Graham, and Cameron. They all sat, no one speaking, waiting on Iain, who strode in but paused just inside the room as Marion and Bridgette entered the room side by side.

  Lachlan’s breath lodged in his chest, and his body tightened in awareness of Bridgette. She wore her flaming hair unbound, and it tumbled over her shoulders, making him want to run his fingers through it. The deep-blue gown she wore hugged her tiny waist and had slipped off her shoulder on one side. It was there—to her bare shoulder—that his attention was drawn and he feasted hungrily on her pale skin. He imagined her skin was that delicate shade everywhere—her breasts, the insides of her thighs, the gentle curve of her back.

  Frustration at his inability to control his thoughts ripped through him, and he yanked his gaze to her face where her eyes met his. Her lips parted, and ever so slowly, she pulled the material of her dress over her exposed shoulder and gathered her plaid up over her shoulders. He felt as if his treacherous thoughts had been exposed for all to see, especially her, but she glanced away without any indication that she suspected anything, and when he looked around, no one was paying him any heed.

  Iain carefully closed the door, indicating the meeting was private but not so private that Marion and Bridgette could not remain. Lachlan’s hope that David might have learned something regarding his suspicions against the Campbells and David’s nephew, Robert, dwindled.

  Iain climbed onto the dais after Bridgette and Marion were seated and stopped in front of Lachlan. “Where is Helena this afternoon?” he asked.

  Lachlan assumed Iain was asking to ensure that Helena would not be in a position to interrupt, eavesdrop, or continue to search out whatever it was for which she might be looking. “She’s helping Alanna in the kitchens. I told Alanna to keep Helena company until I returned so that Helena would nae become lonely.”

  Iain nodded his approval. “Verra considerate of ye, brother.”

  Lachlan was on the verge of making a derisive noise when he realized what he was doing. At the same time, he caught Bridgette looking at him. He swallowed his derision and inhaled slowly, knowing it was imperative to continue the charade. “I try,” he said simply, refusing to lie more than that.

  “Why have ye called this meeting?” Graham asked.

  Iain’s gaze swept over them all. “I received a note from King David that we must address.”

  There was a collective nod from the group, and Iain continued. “The king is traveling here with the steward—”

  “Why does he bring his nephew to us here? I dunnae trust that man!” Angus exclaimed.

  “Nor do I,” Cameron added. “He set his own interests above the task of freeing our king for too long. How can the king nae see this?”

  Lachlan could see Iain’s nostrils flare at Cameron’s and Angus’s outbursts. Likely Iain wanted to tell them that the king did see, but Iain could not. Not yet.

  “The king is wise,” Iain said simply. “And cunning. Dunnae think him anything less than a keen, strong ruler.”

  There was a murmur of agreement from everyone.

  “He travels here with a small party, including himself, Katherine Mortimer—”

  Marion and Bridgette both groaned, which garnered a quelling look from Iain. “Ye both will treat Lady Mortimer—”

  Bridgette snorted at that, and Lachlan was unable to stop his grin. He suspected Marion and Bridgette took exception to Katherine because she was the king’s mistress and both ladies disliked that the king dishonored his wife so. Lachlan happened to agree, but he knew to keep that opinion to himself. Bridgette, apparently, knew but didn’t care. The lass’s boldness made him admire her even more.

  Iain glowered at her. “Ye will keep yer opinions silent.”

  “I did nae say a thing,” she responded innocently. Marion chuckled.

  “Do I need to send ye both out of here?” Iain asked in that quiet yet threatening way he had that indicated one had provoked him too much. Both ladies sobered instantly, their faces becoming carefully blank, except Lachlan could see Bridgette’s jaw set and her shoulders stiffen. It was probably vexing her greatly to stay silent. He clenched his teeth to fend off laughter.

  “The steward will also accompany him, along with Archibald Douglas, Robert Erskine, and John Danielson.”

  “The king dunnae travel with many nobles,” Cameron said. Their youngest brother had always been astute politically, and Lachlan had to wonder if Cameron was starting to suspect that the king did not trust many nobles. Cameron cocked his head as if in thought. “I dunnae imagine the steward likes that. I hear that the king is taking castles and land from many lords that he believes were nae faithful to him while he was imprisoned and giving the lands to men who are nae of noble birth but whom he feels remained true to him and did nae pledge themselves to Edward Balliol, or even the steward himself?”

  Balliol was the King of England’s protégé who wrongfully tried to take David’s throne, and Robert, whose speech spoke of undying faithfulness to David but whose actions showed the man liked his temporary spot on the throne, was not much more respectable.

  “Is this true?” Cameron finished.

  “Aye,” said Iain. “’Tis true.”

  Cameron nodded. “I agree with what the king is doing, but I imagine many lords will nae.”

  “I imagine ye’re correct,” Iain replied. “Now to the pressing issues… The king’s party has been struck twice on the journey here, and the king is requesting reinforcements from us to continue on his journey.”

  Cameron leaned forward. “What do ye want from us, brother? Volunteers to go?”

  “Nay,” Iain said. “I ken who I’ll send, I just wanted ye all here to learn from me why.”

  “So who do ye like the least that ye’ll be willing to risk him being killed by men who evidently dunnae care for King David’s return to Scotland?” their youngest brother jested.

  Lachlan knew Cameron hadn’t meant the words, but given the way Iain scowled and narrowed his eyes, Lachlan could see his older brother was not in the mood for jests of any sorts.

  “Sometimes ye’re funny and sometimes ye’re nae,” Iain said without the slightest bit of levity.

  “Aye,” Cameron mumbled, fidgeting in his chair and looking appropriately regretful at his words. “I’m sorry. I’m happy to volunteer,” he added.

  Iain nodded. “That’s good because ye and Lachlan are going.”

  Beside Lachlan, Graham stiffened. “Why nae me?”

  Lachlan looked to Iain, wondering what he’d say, but Iain simply glanced at Graham, and then back to Lachlan and Cameron. “The two of ye will lead twenty of our men to retrieve the king and bring him safely to Skye. He will take a respite here for a verra short spell before traveling to see Marion’s uncle. He intends to ensure he has the support of her uncle, as Lord of the Isles.”

  Graham lurched to his feet but stumbled backward, wincing and grabbing at his leg. Lachlan jumped up, caught his brother by the arm, and dragged him forward to prevent him from falling.

  “I can manage without yer help,” Graham said, his words stiff and low.

  Lachlan immediately released Graham while grinding his teeth on a biting reply. He deserved Graham’s anger for failing to protect Graham, Marion, and Bridgette from attack when he was laird in Iain’s absence, and for his lustful thoughts of Bridgette.

  “Why them and nae me?” Graham demanded of Iain.

  “Ye ken why,” Iain said firmly.

  “My injuries have improved greatl
y,” Graham insisted. “I’ve been training every day. I beg of ye—let me lead our men.”

  When Iain jerked a hand through his hair, unease tightened Lachlan’s shoulders. He knew Iain almost as well as he knew himself and that gesture from his brother meant he was considering relenting to Graham’s request.

  Lachlan’s need to protect Graham as he’d failed to do before awoke inside of him. “Iain, ye kinnae send him. He kinnae even ride a horse properly.”

  Lachlan swore under his breath when he saw the murderous look that came into Graham’s eyes. He recognized that his word choice could have been better, but if his words kept Iain from sending Graham and kept him safe, then Lachlan would take all the anger Graham cared to heap on him.

  “I dunnae need ye playing my defender, Lachlan,” Graham said. “And I can ride just fine. I’ve been practicing. I’ll show ye if ye dunnae believe me, Iain.”

  Iain sighed. “Of course I believe ye, Graham. But the journey will be long and hard, and ye’ve only just begun to recover.”

  “I want to help bring the king back safely.” Lachlan could see the pleading in Graham’s eyes, and he knew it was getting to Iain by the way his brother’s gaze had softened and his rigid stance had slackened.

  “By God, Iain,” Lachlan burst out, drawing his brother’s gaze—everyone’s, really—sharply to him. “Ye’ll send him to his death. Ye kinnae do it.”

  “Are ye challenging yer laird?” Graham demanded, cleverly choosing the exact words to put Iain in a position to have to allow Graham to go. Graham had just made it appear as if Lachlan was doubting Iain’s authority.

  “Ye ken I’m nae,” Lachlan said, struggling to control his temper.

  “Everyone out but Graham, Lachlan, and Atholl,” Iain said in a voice that brooked no argument.

  The other men on the dais did not raise argument at being ordered to leave. Lachlan was curious why Atholl was allowed to stay, but he was certain Iain had his reasons. Lachlan noted that Marion and Bridgette remained as well. Marion had a defiant look upon her face and Bridgette’s expression mirrored her friend’s.

  “Marion,” Iain said in a warning tone.

  “I’m going. I just wish to say one thing.”

  Iain gave Lachlan and Graham a look that said he was helpless to stop his wife. “Make haste,” he said sternly.

  “Graham, nae a soul here thinks lesser of you just because you have a limp.”

  Bridgette groaned and rolled her eyes. Marion was trying to be kind, but she did not understand that her words would further anger Graham.

  Graham clenched his jaw. “I think lesser of me, Marion. And if I am denied going, the rest of the clan will think lesser of me, too. They’ll ken Iain dunnae think me capable of the journey.”

  What Graham said was true. Lachlan knew it, and the resigned look that swept across Iain’s features could only mean Iain understood it to be so as well. Lachlan tried to think what else could be said to convince Iain not to send Graham when Iain spoke. “Graham will ride to bring David to us. Lachlan, ye’ll stay here. I may need to journey to see the clansmen at the outer edges of our land, and I dunnae wish to leave without one of us here.”

  Lachlan opened his mouth to argue that he should journey to the king and Graham should stay when Bridgette scrambled to her feet. “Ye kinnae send him! He’s weak and kinnae ride well.”

  Steely determination swept over Graham’s face. It struck Lachlan in that instant that Graham likely wanted to go to prove to Bridgette that he could. He did not want her to see him as weak, and she had just confirmed that she did.

  “Iain, please,” Graham begged. “Ye would wish to accompany the men if ye were me, and ye ken it well. Ye would nae let injury stop ye.”

  Lachlan sighed. Graham’s words were true. Iain would never let anything stop him from protecting the clan. He’d bear the pain. He had always expected Lachlan to do the same, as well, but not Graham. Lachlan started at the realization, and as Iain blinked and his eyes drew slightly wider, then locked on Lachlan, he knew Iain had come to the same realization. They had both worked in silent agreement to protect Graham and Cameron as much as possible, but now it was time to let them prove they were MacLeod warriors.

  “As ye wish, Graham,” Iain said. “Ye will lead our men, and Cameron will act as yer second-in-command. Do the clan proud.”

  “Nay!” Bridgette cried and ran to Graham’s side. “Ye’ll be hurt worse or killed. What if the party is struck? What if David’s own men turn on him? What if traitors are lying in wait to kill David? Nay. Nay. Let Lachlan go!”

  Lachlan stiffened. Bridgette’s fierce protection of Graham and her willingness to send Lachlan into peril instead was exactly how it should be, yet her words still ripped him apart. They battered his body like unseen blows. And by all that was holy, her pleas for his brother made Lachlan yearn for her more. Graham smiled slowly at her, cupped her by the neck, and kissed her full on the mouth. Lachlan turned swiftly away, fearing the jealousy and desire he felt would show on his face.

  “Are we finished?” Lachlan asked, wishing to depart.

  “Nay,” Iain responded. “The king imparted some verra interesting news in his letter that we need to discuss.”

  Lachlan turned swiftly around at the tension he heard in Iain’s voice. “What is it? Should I call the council back in?”

  “Nay. I would keep this between us for now,” Iain said, his eyes coming to rest on Atholl.

  Atholl gave a quick nod, and then Iain continued. “It seems Uncle Jamie has returned to Scotland.”

  Lachlan jolted at the news that their father’s brother, the man who should have become laird when their father died but had been banished long ago by Robert I, King David’s own father, had once again returned to Scotland.

  “I didn’t even know you had an uncle!” Marion exclaimed to Iain.

  Iain shrugged. “We dunnae anymore. He is dead to us.”

  Marion scowled. “Where has he been if not in Scotland?”

  “England,” Iain said. “He was banished from Scotland many years ago by David’s father, and he was nae to return to Scotland or else face death, but this makes it his fourth return. This will be the last time he evades captivity, though.” A dark scowl marred his face.

  Lachlan exchanged a quick glance with Iain, then Graham, and Cameron. Iain would not say so in front of Marion and Bridgette, but if Jamie was back it was for the same reason as always—to try to take control of the MacLeod clan and the lairdship he claimed had been unrightfully taken from him and given to Iain. The last time Jamie had returned to Scotland was with Edward Balliol, and when Jamie had evaded Iain’s capture, Iain had vowed that he would hunt their uncle down if he returned again, no matter how long it took, and kill the man. That meant they were about to go to war. Jamie would not be here without having first formed an allegiance. The question was, with whom?

  Marion’s forehead creased as she frowned. “Why was he banished from Scotland?”

  “King Robert ordered him to marry one of the daughters of the Sinclair laird, at the time,” Atholl replied. Lachlan stared when the man spoke because Atholl rarely said a word unless directly addressed. Atholl gave a shy smile as if he knew his talking was odd.

  Iain nodded. “Atholl is correct. Jamie dunnae wish to wed the Sinclair woman, according to my father.” He looked to Atholl to confirm.

  “He dunnae, ’tis true.”

  Iain looked as if he was trying to recall something. “Did Jamie wish to marry another?”

  Atholl shrugged. “I dunnae recall. But the woman he was being forced to marry was nae comely at all and simple in mind, but Jamie did nae have a choice. She was found dead shortly after the marriage, chained to a rock in one of the caves near Dunvegan where the tide rises high. She’d gone missing a few days earlier.”

  “’Tis exactly as I recall from my father,” Iain agreed. “Father suspected Jamie had killed her. Do ye ken why my father suspected that, Atholl?”

  “Nay,” the olde
r man replied. “Some say the seer who lived at the Fairy Pools had a vision of it when yer uncle tried to have his way with the seer so she told yer father. I dunnae ken the truth of it, though.”

  “However it came to be that Father suspected Uncle Jamie, he told the king as much. The king was fiercely angry, and rather than kill Jamie, he thought it more fitting to banish him from the land he loved dearly. Robert said death was too good for Jamie as it would end his pain, but to live knowing he could never return to Scotland was a penance that would go on for years.”

  “Uncle Jamie fled to England but after my father died and I became laird, he returned to Scotland and tried to invade Dunvegan, but he failed. He came again twice when Balliol took the throne with the help of the English king.” Iain fell silent, likely not wishing to say more for fear Marion would worry.

  “If yer uncle has returned again, then surely ye ken he means to try to take back Dunvegan as he has done the other times,” Bridgette exclaimed.

  Iain glared at her, then drew Marion to his side. “I ken it, but dunnae fash yerself, either of ye. He’ll nae ever succeed.”

  “But he must have aid!” Marion said.

  “Aye,” Iain agreed. “He’s nae so foolish as to return without aid, and since we dunnae ken who that is yet, we must ready ourselves as if we will be struck by a large army in the near future.”

  A tense silence fell over the room as all present nodded their agreement and then discussion turned toward preparing for an invasion that may or may not ever come.

  When Graham, Cameron, and the other MacLeod men departed to go to King David the next day, Lachlan eagerly excused himself after making his farewells so he’d not have to stand as audience to Bridgette offering a tearful farewell to Graham. Training the men for the possible battle with his uncle gave Lachlan a convenient but truthful reason to flee. As he made his way to the men awaiting his training, he spotted Helena, who had told him earlier that she had an aching head and intended to stay abed for most the day.