Highland Belle

by Patricia H. Grasso

  A disturbance at the hall's entrance saved the three from the earl's wrath. Accompanied by another of the earl's men, a courier strode briskly toward the high table. The man wore the livery of the Earl of Moray, the queen's half brother.

  “My Lord Menzies?” At Murdac's nod, the courier handed him the missive.

  Menzies quickly read the message and looked up. Deadly fury shone from the depths of black serpentine eyes, and he vowed in a chilling voice, “I will turn Dunridge—nay, the whole of Argyll—into a wasteland!"

  19

  Spring became summer, and the sun rode high in the sky. A message from Edinburgh arrived in June; Queen Mary had delivered a son, James, but there was no time for rejoicing at Dunridge.

  War, especially bitter, raged between Iain MacArthur and Murdac Menzies. One casualty was the women's activities. They were no longer allowed beyond the castle's walls, much to the frustration of Brigette, who felt the garden closing in on her.

  One morning in early July, Sheena spied Brigette marching purposefully toward the stables. “Brie,” she called, running to catch up. “Where are ye goin'?"

  “I'm riding to the loch,” Brigette answered. “Care to join me?"

  “The loch?"

  “That's what I said."

  “But the earl's forbidden us to—"

  “The earl is a jackass,” Brigette snapped. “I refuse to be a prisoner in my own home. Are you coming?"

  Brigette turned away, and Sheena followed her to the deserted stables. They saddled their own horses, then mounted and rode toward the outer gate.

  Unexpectedly, their path to freedom was blocked. Iain, Percy, and a troop of MacArthur warriors filled the portal. They'd been out surveying the damage done by Menzies the previous night.

  “Where do ye think yer goin'?” Iain growled, grabbing Brigette's reins.

  “Your request to remain inside the walls is unreasonable,” she told him.

  “It was an order, no’ a request."

  “I'm not your prisoner."

  “Yer my wife and will obey me."

  Challenging him, Brigette tugged at her reins, but Iain held them firmly in his iron grip. Angry dark eyes warred silently with determined green ones. “Dismount,” he ordered, “and walk back.” Casting him a scathing look, Brigette dismounted and stalked off.

  Iain's eyes drifted to his sister-in-law. “Ye also, Lady Sheena."

  Sheena glanced at Percy, who, wearing the most aggravating smirk, looked away as if she were a stranger. Humiliated, Sheena dismounted and followed Brigette.

  “The ladies arena’ permitted outside,” Iain shouted to the guards. “Do whatever ye must to stop them."

  “Insufferable ... pigheaded,” Brigette was mumbling when Sheena caught up with her.

  “And my husband didna’ even defend me,” Sheena complained.

  “I'm breaking out of this decrepit pile of rock,” Brigette vowed, “even if I must scale the walls."

  “And we dinna need their horses,” Sheena added. “We can walk out instead of ride."

  “Ha! If I know Iain, he's already instructed the guards to stop us from leaving."

  “We could sneak out the postern gate,” Sheena suggested.

  Brigette flashed her a brilliant smile. “Why, you're more devious than I am."

  Sheena grinned. “Thank ye."

  “When Glenda takes her lessons with Father Kaplan,” Brigette said, “I'll meet you outside the gate. We'll be back before anyone realizes we've gone."

  When Antonia left the great hall that afternoon, she noticed Brigette skulking around the end of the corridor and stepped back to watch. Brigette scanned the garden and then darted out the door. Perplexed, Antonia followed.

  Outside, Brigette scurried behind a section of shrubbery, then dashed to the back of the garden and hid behind a tree. A moment later, she fled her hiding place and flew through the garden's rear door.

  Antonia reached the back of the garden in time to see Brigette disappear through the postern gate. What in God's Holy Name was the Sassenach doing?

  Curiosity got the better of Antonia, and she opened the postern gate. A hand shot out and yanked her through.

  “What the bloody hell are you doing?” Brigette demanded angrily.

  “I could ask ye the same thing,” Antonia returned, lifting her nose in the air. She looked from Brigette to Sheena and then disdainfully at Sly. “I'm tellin’ Iain."

  Pulling a dagger from the waistband of her skirt, Brigette waved it beneath the blonde's nose. “You're coming with us."

  “That's right,” Sheena added. “Ye willna’ ruin our chance for a few moments of pleasure."

  “Where are ye goin'?” Antonia asked.

  “To the loch and back,” Sheena answered.

  “Verra well, I'll come."

  “And keep your mouth shut,” Brigette warned, “or we'll be caught."

  Silently, they walked through the woods and reached the shore of Loch Awe without being detected. The three women and the fox strolled along at a leisurely pace, enjoying the summer's day.

  Sensing rather than hearing the thundering of hooves, Sheena turned and saw Sly, with hackles raised, whine and dash into the woods. “Run!” Sheena screamed, then darted into the woods after the fox.

  Brigette whirled around and saw the men riding hard toward them. Black and white Menzies plaid! She started after Sheena, but noticed Antonia running in a panic down the shoreline.

  "No!" Brigette shrieked, racing after her. "Run into the woods!"

  An arm hooked Brigette's waist and yanked her up.

  “Release me, you bastard,” she screamed, struggling against him. His fist connected with the side of her face, and Brigette's struggles ceased.

  * * * *

  Dusk had snuffed the last mauve ray of light from the western sky when the Menzies warriors and their hostages arrived at Weem Castle. Sitting in front of her captor on his horse, Brigette felt trapped in the midst of a recurring nightmare. A throbbing jaw was her sole link with reality. Rousing herself, she glanced at Antonia as they halted inside Weem's inner curtain. The blonde was visibly shaking with fear.

  The war party dismounted. Brigette's captor yanked her roughly off the horse, and in the process she nearly toppled to the ground. Baring her teeth, Brigette growled menacingly, but the man merely laughed at her bravado. It was like being threatened by a flea.

  Grabbing her upper arm, the man dragged her inside, and Brigette knew she'd wear those bruises for many weeks. Antonia and her captor walked behind, followed by the other Menzies warriors.

  Weem's great hall was crowded for supper. Brigette was led across the chamber to the high table and recognized Murdac Menzies at once.

  “Good evenin', ladies,” Murdac greeted them, then smiled coldly. “Welcome to my home."

  Shaken by their predicament, Antonia remained uncharacteristically silent, but Brigette was defiant to the last. After all, she'd escaped his clutches in the Sound of Mull. Why not at Weem? Brigette gazed disdainfully about the hall.

  “So, this is the hornet's nest,” she said contemptuously, her flashing green eyes challenging him.

  Menzies threw back his head and shouted with laughter, but no humor shone from his black, serpentine eyes. He stood and walked around the table to tower over them, his very size threatening their existence.

  “It's a pleasure to see ye again, Countess.” One of his calloused paws touched Brigette's bruised jaw. “I apologize for any inconvenience my men may have caused,” Murdac said pleasantly, then asked as his gaze drifted to Antonia, “And who have ye brought along?"

  “Lady Antonia,” Brigette replied, “my widowed sister-in-law."

  Taking Antonia's hand in his, Murdac raised it to his lips in courtly fashion, then complimented, “If I had known someone as beautiful as ye lived at Dunridge, I would have abducted ye long ago.” Dumbfounded, Antonia stared at him.

  “Indeed,” he continued, “I'm an uncommonly lucky mon to have two rare beauties c
ome to visit."

  “You'd have even more,” Brigette returned, heedless of the danger, “if only you had enough men to scour the countryside and snatch them."

  “I see the journey's made ye irritable,” Murdac remarked. “Perhaps ye'd like to rest before supper?"

  “Actually, I'd like to be returned to Dunridge."

  “That's impossible at the moment. Ye willna’ be leavin’ Weem ‘til my sister's returned to me."

  “Tsk! Tsk!” Brigette chided. “Would you put asunder what God has joined together?"

  “What do ye mean?"

  “Sheena married Percy MacArthur,” she informed him. “Willingly, I might add. If you don't believe me, ask your men. They'll tell you, Sheena ran away when she recognized them."

  Murdac's eyes darted to his man, who nodded and looked away.

  “Even as we speak,” Brigette continued boldly, “my husband and his men are riding for Weem. You'll fail, as you did the last time."

  “The last time?” Murdac echoed, puzzled.

  “Don't play the innocent with me,” Brigette snapped. “By your order, I was left to die on that rock in the Sound of Mull. Unfortunately for you, I escaped."

  “Yer husband must have many enemies,” Murdac snorted. “I amna’ the one who masterminded that.” He looked Brigette up and down, perusing her charms, then smiled suggestively and said, “I know of better thin's to do wi’ a beautiful woman. Take them away."

  * * * *

  Upstairs, Brigette and Antonia were locked in one of the bedchambers. While Antonia perched on the edge of the bed and stared vacantly into space, Brigette paced back and forth in high agitation.

  She crossed the chamber, then turned around and retraced her steps. How can we escape? Brigette wondered, her mind as restless as her body. I've got it! I'll stand behind the door and overpower the next person who walks through. No, that wouldn't work. We'd still have to fight our way out of here.

  Brigette's eyes fell on Antonia. No help there. If only Cousin Magnus were hereabouts, on one of his missions.

  A key turned in the lock, and a moment later, the door opened. A middle-aged servant woman entered, carrying a bucket of steaming water. A couple of towels were slung over her arm.

  The woman set the bucket and towels on the table, then turned to look at them. “The earl thought ye'd like to wash before supper,” she explained.

  Brigette stared coldly at her. Frightened by the hate-filled green eyes, the woman crossed herself and hastily retreated, locking the door behind her.

  Realizing escape was impossible, Brigette sighed and surrendered to her fatigue. She sat on the bed and closed her eyes, but thoughts of escape persisted.

  Antonia stood abruptly, marched across the chamber to the table, and washed her face. Finished with her toilet, she began pacing the chamber instead of returning to her perch.

  Retracing her steps, Antonia's eyes fell on Brigette, and a sudden, calculating thought popped into her mind. Menzies is an unmarried man, and I am not without certain attractions. I could persuade him to dispose of the Sassenach. If Iain loses, I'll wed Murdac and become the Countess of Meinnich; but if Iain wins, he'll be free to make me his countess. Either way, I cannot lose.

  Antonia halted beside the bed. “What have ye to say for yerself, ye stupid Sassenach slut?"

  One green eye opened a slit. “I see you've recovered,” Brigette commented drily.

  “This is yer fault."

  “My fault?” Two green eyes opened wide.

  “If ye hadna’ disobeyed Iain, we wouldna’ be here."

  “Do not blame me.” Brigette stood and confronted Antonia. “If you hadn't followed, you wouldn't be here; and if you hadn't run down the beach like a madwoman, I wouldn't be here. You nosy, stupid bitch!"

  Whack! The force of Antonia's slap snapped Brigette's head back.

  Whack! Brigette returned the favor.

  “Ladies!” Murdac Menzies lounged against the doorjamb. “Violence detracts from yer femininity. I've come to escort ye to supper,” he added pleasantly, sauntering into the chamber. “Yer lookin’ much better, Lady Antonia."

  “Thank ye, my lord,” she said, smiling.

  He turned to Brigette, saying, “Ye should have been washed before now, Countess."

  “I've decided to wait and sup with my husband,” she returned. “He should be here momentarily."

  Murdac laughed harshly, then warned, “Ye'll starve before the Earl of Dunridge sets a foot in Weem Castle."

  “In that case,” Brigette hissed like an angry kitten, “I shall break bread with you in hell."

  Murdac's good humor vanished, the scar on his cheek whitening with anger. Fighting the urge to slap her into submission, he stared grimly at Brigette. “Suit yerself,” Murdac said coldly, then turned to Antonia and smiled, offering his arm. “Surely ye'll sup wi’ me?"

  Returning his smile, Antonia placed her hand on his arm. Together, they left the chamber.

  “Antonia!” Brigette screamed, banging on the door. “You traitor!"

  * * * *

  Hungry lips descended to Brigette's, covering her mouth with a savage intensity. “Iain...” she breathed against the lips. A dream, Brigette thought, awakening slowly, yet the fleshy pressure against her mouth remained. Her eyes flew open and filled with obvious revulsion. Murdac Menzies was kissing her!

  Smiling lazily at her horrified expression, Murdac lightly ran a finger down her cheek. When that same finger traced her kiss-bruised lips, Brigette bit it.

  “Ye little bitch!” he roared, flinching away from her. Brigette scrambled off the other side of the bed and backed away. The table prevented any further movement.

  Grim-faced, Murdac stood and faced her. Sunbeams danced through the chamber's window behind him, and Brigette realized that morning had come.

  Adding insult to injury, Brigette wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her blouse, then brushed off the contaminated sleeve. Growling low in his throat, Murdac stepped menacingly closer.

  “Keep your distance,” she warned, “or I'll kill myself. Then you'll have no hostage."

  “Have ye forgotten Lady Antonia?"

  “My husband won't care if you keep Antonia; in fact, you'll be doing him a favor."

  “How exceedin'ly odd,” Murdac remarked. “Antonia was bent on persuadin’ me to dispose of ye."

  “Where is she?” Brigette demanded. “What have you done with her?"

  “We passed a delightful but tirin’ night in my chamber. The lady is still abed.” Murdac laughed at Brigette's expression. “Dinna look so shocked, my dear. She was willin’ enough to spread her legs, and I didna’ kill her afterward, as yer late father-in-law did my aunt."

  “What!"

  “Surely ye know how the feud began? Black Jack abducted, ravished, and murdered my aunt."

  “You're a bloody liar!"

  “Believe what ye want,” Murdac said with a shrug of his shoulders. “What will ye do to keep breathin'?"

  Brigette's stomach knotted in fear, but her voice remained strong and steady. “Touch me and I'll kill you,” she threatened.

  “I'm shakin',” he mocked. Smiling at her bravado, he stepped forward.

  Keeping her eyes on him, Brigette reached behind, blindly searching the table for a weapon. In a flash of movement, she grabbed the bucket of now-cold water and hurled it at him.

  “Lucky for ye,” Murdac said, safely sidestepping, “I adore spirited women. Their ultimate surrender is that much sweeter.” Sauntering to the door, he added, “I'll leave ye in peace—for the moment."

  * * * *

  Grumbling to himself about the impulsiveness of women, Murdac strode across the great hall to the high table, then sat down and inspected his injured finger. A group of his men, sitting near the table, were deep in a conversation about hunting.

  A doe hunt, Murdac thought, a cunning smile lighting his face. He ordered two serving women to bring his guests to the hall.

  Several moments later, Brigette was es
corted into the chamber and led to the high table. “Traitor,” she hissed when Antonia stood beside her.

  “Give me yer attention,” Murdac called to his men, then stood and walked around the table to tower over his captives. Smiling wickedly, he inclined his head. “Good mornin', ladies."

  Antonia returned his smile. Brigette's stare was colder than a Highland blizzard.

  “I'm sponsorin’ a doe hunt for the pleasure and entertainment of my men and, of course, myself,” Murdac announced. “We'll be the hunters and ye, my ladies, will be the doe."

  “B-but—” Antonia began to protest.

  Murdac's hand shot out and struck her. Antonia fell against Brigette, who steadied her.

  “And if we refuse?” Brigette challenged.

  “Dinna ask that question,” he returned, “unless yer prepared to hear the answer."

  “As I said, and if we refuse?"

  “Dinna dwell upon the negative. Consider the hunt yer chance to escape."

  “Are we to be murdered?” Brigette asked.

  “Oh, lassie! How black ye must believe my soul is!” Murdac exclaimed, feigning dismay. He looked her up and down insolently, saying, “Woman was created for mon's pleasure, no’ to be harmed."

  Brigette cocked a brow at him. “So, we're to be raped?"

  Murdac's lazy smile was her answer.

  “Iain will tear you apart”—she sneered—“piece by loathsome piece."

  “Enough!” he snapped. “Remove yer gowns."

  “Please—” Antonia pleaded, tears streaming down her face.

  Murdac drew his dagger and pointed it at her, its sharp tip touching her throat. “Keep yer mouth shut,” he ordered, “and disrobe."

  With shaking hands, Antonia unfastened her skirt and let it drop to the floor, then pulled her blouse over her head and stood in her chemise. The men went wild, cheering and whistling and banging their hands on the tables.

  “Now yer shoes and stockings,” Murdac ordered. When she obeyed, he threw her lace garters at the mob of men, who scrambled frantically over each other to catch them.

  Murdac laughed crudely. His eyes darted to Brigette. “Yer turn, Countess."

  “Go bugger yourself!"