A Highlander's Gifted Love (Blood 0f Duncliffe Series Book 9)

by Emilia Ferguson

  “Chlodie? What are you…”?

  “Get back!”

  She cried it, but as she did so, an officer yelled the words. The dead tree was glowing, and a spark of burning wood was drifting down, heading for the powder sacks, slowly…so slowly…

  “No!”

  Bethann roared, and ran to where the spark was drifting on the gentle breeze. As he did so, another man caught the drift of what he did and, grabbing his cloak, beat out the sparks.

  “Move the wagon!” The officer roared. “The blaze is growing. Move!”

  Chlodie, arms wrapped around Domnall, gasped in relief as the wagon trundled backwards and more men ran to stop the spread of fire up the tree-trunk.

  Domnall, lying in her arms, twisted round to stare.

  “You saved me,” he whispered.

  “And you saved me,” she said grimly. “Now, if we’re going to live to be useful, best if we move back now, away from the blaze.”

  “Aye.”

  Still pale and shocked, he stood and did as she had said. They moved back together, out of the way. Bethann joined him.

  “Whew,” he said. “That was close.”

  “Any sign of the youth?”

  Bethann shrugged. “Not seen him yet, sir,” he said, scuffing the ground with his toe. A gun fired out in the battlefield, followed by a roar of sound.

  “He’s here,” Chlodie said softly.

  Not knowing why, she did so, she turned to her left and walked forward, towards the heated fight.

  “Chlodie…” Domnall sounded desperate. “No! You…”

  Chlodie didn’t hear his desperate shout. She headed blindly forward, questing ahead. Her skin was like parchment, soaking up ink. She could feel him, here, somewhere – feel the fear, the anticipation, the confusion…

  “Lady Chlodie?”

  A youthful voice shouted it to her, incredulously. Chlodie stared. Back lit by the fires of battle, stood the handsome, black-haired youth she’d met a week ago. Adeline’s boy.

  “Tam!” she said, finding her voice. “Your mother’s here. She’s worried sick. You have to come.”

  “Mother?”

  The boy stared, as if at mention of some priceless relic. His cheeks were scored with powder and grime. A bruise flowered on his temple. He was thinner than Chlodie recalled him to be, his hair in disarray. Dirty, weary and afraid.

  He held a musket, the barrel cracked back for a reload. He let it fall. He turned and looked at the man who stood beside him.

  The man shrugged.

  “Who wants tae die, lad? Not me. Off you go, then.”

  “But…”

  “Your mother loves you, Tam,” Chlodie said, reaching out toward him. “She said you shouldn’t fight, if you have no wish to do it.”

  “Mother…said that?” He stared at her, disbelief stretching those wide, liquid eyes.

  He had stepped away from the battle now, close enough, almost, to touch.

  “She did,” she replied.

  “She always wanted me to be like Father,” he murmured, eyes downcast. “A hero. I thought she’d only be happy, if I died in battle. Like he had. I thought that she’d only be proud of me if I did what he’d done. She wanted me to die, to be like he was.”

  Chlodie shook her head. Tears welled up in her eyes.

  “Your mother needs you to live, Tam,” she said softly. “She knows now that you, alive, means more to her than the entire world together.”

  “She said that?” he stared, hope flaming in the darkness of his eyes.

  “She did,” she confirmed.

  The youth took one last, stumbling step forward, staring round.

  He caught sight of Domnall, and frowned toward Chlodie. She opened her mouth, to explain. The words were torn from her, as, at the precise moment, a great roaring sounded.

  “Reinforcements!” a man shouted. “They’re here! They’re here!”

  “Help is here!”

  Chlodie saw the men start to smile, to cheer. Someone shot a musket skywards, wasting a precious bullet, so elated was he. The sounds of fighting began, with renewed vigor. Out there in the woods, the sound of yells and whoops added their strength.

  It’s working!

  She felt a hand on her arm and retreated into the brush, scanning the field before them. Tam joined them, and the four of them watched the scene unfold.

  The red-coats were surrounded.

  On three sides, the whooping and yelling redoubled. Gunshots whizzed overhead, and somewhere a measure of powder exploded, making men hurl themselves to the ground, for safety.

  In the light of the flames, Chlodie saw the expressions on the men’s faces change. From grimly triumphant, they looked fearful.

  It’s working.

  She felt only a warm satisfaction as she saw the enemy lines waver. From their former confidence, she saw their postures change, saw men whisper a message from one to the next.

  Then, just as the whoops and yells of their own enthusiastic chorus in the trees grew louder, she saw nods exchanged. A man raised his arm, giving a signal.

  As a man, the embattled troops swung northeast, heading for the one side left unmolested.

  Feeling her heart seeming to swell to fill her chest, Chlodie watched with anticipation and joy as the men filed out of the clearing.

  They were outnumbered. Or so they thought. They took the only route available. They went northeast, to safety.

  Leaving the embattled Jacobites alone.

  As the last of them left the field, the noise died away. Chlodie turned towards Domnall, realizing her nails were digging into the skin of his wrist, fingers fastened on his arm like claws, stiff with tension. She looked on as the field cleared and, slowly at first, the embattled Jacobites wandered forwards.

  She heard the whoops and yells go up as, one by one, they realized what had happened. She saw a gun fired up, the powder trail blazing in the half-dark. She heard the yell of wild joy.

  “They’ve gone! We’re safe!”

  “Hurrah!”

  The shouts grew louder, and the sounds of triumph. Guns went off, and men laughed and whooped, congratulating each other, praising the Lord and generally celebrating their existence.

  Chlodie turned to Domnall, and smiled.

  “You did it,” she said, feeling her heart fill with joy.

  “We did it,” he said firmly.

  He turned to her and, very tenderly, pressed his lips to hers. His arms enfolded her in a big hug. She leaned against him, feeling her heart melt.

  In that moment, everything was just right.

  AFTERMATH

  Chlodie stirred in Domnall’s arms. He lay beside her, his body pressed, warm and tender, to hers, molded to the rounded curve of her back. His arms were around her chest, protective and tender. She rested her fingers on his wrist, feeling her heart about to melt.

  She twisted round, pressing her lips to his chin. She heard his breath draw in, heard a soft laugh.

  “Dearest,” he whispered into her hair.

  She wriggled closer, letting her body mold to his. Then, gently, she turned around again.

  “We need to wake,” she whispered. She let her fingers stroke his head gently, loving the soft feel of his red locks.

  He nuzzled her neck and drew his arms tight around her. Then he kissed her hair.

  “Dearest, you’re right. Let’s go.”

  Chlodie sighed, her whole body resisting, wanting to stay a moment longer. Then she stood.

  Together, they headed to the inn door.

  “What is the day like?” Chlodie asked, running her fingers through her hair, since she had brought no comb or anything else with her.

  “Looks to be cold,” Domnall said, shutting the door again. He was dressed in his shirt, his kilt in a tumbling array on the chair where he’d left it the previous night. He reached for it, shaking it out. She rinsed her face in the dish of chilly water, and then looked up at him, blinking. She gave a teasing smile.

  “Yo
u need help with that?”

  He chuckled. “They’re just so long, aren’t they,” he observed, wrapping the kilt round and round his narrow waist. At more than seven times the length of her arm, there were yards of fabric to wrap round him. She watched him tuck and pleat it deftly, smiling to herself.

  A fine specimen of a man.

  She blushed, thinking it a special sort of naughty just to think it. Then she turned back to the mirror, combing out curls.

  “I suppose I’ll have to do as best I can,” she commented, reaching for her own crumpled, stained traveling dress. White, it showed the patches of brown and rust where she’d fallen in the path the night before. She ran a hand over the stained patch, and shrugged, stepping into it.

  Wordlessly, Domnall stepped across, helping her out. She stood, letting him do what Mattie would usually do for her, then turned and held him.

  “I’m so lucky, to have you.”

  Wordlessly, he crushed her against him. He kissed her hair.

  “I am more than lucky, to have you,” he breathed. He bent and kissed her mouth.

  Chlodie felt her body press eagerly to his, and leaned in against him, her cheeks flushed as her body responded to his hands, touching her back. She sighed and wrapped her arms around him, drawing him against her.

  “Chlodie,” he sighed. “So beautiful.”

  “Thanks,” she said, her lips twisted humorously. “I’m pleased you think so. I look like a wet rat.”

  “Don’t say that.” He sounded angry. “You’re so beautiful. You think you need a comb and curling papers, to be beautiful? In your traveling dress, with your hair loose, you look more beautiful than any duchess in her courtly dress.”

  Chlodie swallowed hard. “Thanks,” she said.

  Domnall shook his head, and then squeezed her hand.

  “I love you, Chlodie.”

  “I love you, too.”

  She went through the door and into the hallway.

  Breakfast was set out below stairs. She walked down dreamily, her head still floating from the late night and the confusion. She listened for voices in the taproom below, body tensing on instinct, but there was silence.

  She walked down the last few stairs, the boards creaking under her weight. She looked up, hearing Domnall close behind.

  “Are they downstairs?” he asked behind her.

  She tiptoed to the door. The church clock struck half-past, though she hadn’t heard the hour earlier. She guessed it to be eight. The laborers had long since had their repast, and the taproom was empty. She caught sight of two figures sitting at a table.

  “Chlodie!”

  Chlodie saw Adeline standing up from her place at table, and ran to her. The light shone on her, and she seemed a woman transformed. Her long oval face was strong and serene, and her eyes were bright. Her full mouth split with a grin.

  “Domnall. Chlodie! Come, join us.”

  Her son stood from where he sat opposite. Moved, Chlodie saw him sketch a bow first to her and then to Domnall.

  “Lady Chlodie. Lieutenant,” he nodded. “Good morning. And…thank you.”

  His eye held Chlodie’s. She bobbed a slight curtsy, in acknowledgment, and smiled.

  “Greetings, Tam,” she said. “I’m pleased to see you. You slept well?”

  She was asking both of them, but it was the young man who answered.

  “Mother and I…talked,” he said. He looked at peace, that uncertain hesitance gone from his face, replaced with a calm awareness.

  He has grown up. He needed to speak with Adeline, and settle whatever it was.

  She nodded.

  “I am glad,” she said. She turned to Adeline. The woman was radiant, her cheeks glowing, eyes shining. She looked happier than Chlodie had ever seen her in their short acquaintance.

  “Breakfast, Chlodie,” she said, making a sweeping gesture at the trays. “And then, we must talk. I cannot thank you…”

  “There is nothing to thank me for,” Chlodie murmured.

  Domnall drew back a chair and shot her a significant look. Chlodie stayed silent.

  “Mama said you saw a vision of me?”

  Chlodie felt her cheeks go pink with hesitance.

  “I did, yes.”

  “That is a remarkable gift,” Tam said gravely. “I am indebted, that you used it in my favor.”

  “I saw you, Tam,” Chlodie said firmly. “There must be a reason for that. I do not choose whom I see.”

  “We are grateful, Chlodie,” Adeline said.

  Chlodie said nothing, simply looking at her lap, her eye focused on the reddish greenish stain.

  “You made a grand diversion,” Domnall said, breaking an awkward silence between them.

  “We did!” Adeline acknowledged. Her low voice held laughter. “It worked very well. It was a grand plan,” she acknowledged Domnall’s contribution. He laughed.

  “You led them, milady,” he said. “Any time you like, you can have my badge.”

  She chuckled.

  “You brought them back here?” Chlodie asked. After their success, she had been so tired she’d almost fallen asleep. Domnall had carried her much of the way home, and taken her upstairs to the inn room. She’d missed all of the celebrations, though she vaguely remembered the sound of singing, winding through her dreams.

  “We did!” Adeline chuckled. “A grand time was had, that much’s certain.”

  “Mama was spectacular,” the young earl said, laughing. “She had the ale flowing and the cook running for bannocks until three o clock this morning!”

  “Really? No!”

  “It was so,” Adeline said. “I confess I am a little wearied.”

  “You, wearied?” Tam chuckled, giving his mother a caring glance. “I thought I would fall asleep. You just carried on!”

  “You needed to keep up your strength,” Adeline said, patting his hand fondly. “You’ve had a harder time than me.”

  “Perhaps,” he said.

  Chlodie, watching the newfound trust between them, felt something flower in her heart. She glanced sideways at Domnall, who smiled at her fondly. They shared a special glance. She felt her heart soar.

  “I will have to excuse myself,” Tam said, pushing back his chair. “I promised Mr. Glenfirth I’d look at his ox wagon this morning. He said in exchange for repairs, we could take it to ride back to Alrae.”

  Chlodie was about to protest, but Adeline lifted a hand.

  “Let him go, Chlodie,” she said, when her son had left the taproom. “It is good for him to know he can organize something.”

  Again, Chlodie felt a glimmer of warmth, seeing their new understanding.

  She nodded, and cast a glance sideways to Domnall, who was smiling, the sunshine glinting on the bright red lights of his hair.

  He is so handsome.

  Adeline glanced at Chlodie, her black eyes assessing. She smiled. Then she, too, pushed back her chair.

  “I will go upstairs to get some rest,” she said. “Tam is right – I am somewhat wearied.”

  Giving them both a pale smile, she went out of the room. They heard her footsteps, slower than they had been, going up the stairs. They looked at each other. They were alone together.

  “Chlodie,” Domnall whispered. “Have you had enough breakfast?”

  “Yes,” Chlodie began, about to suggest they had more tea, or perhaps a second bowl of porridge – for she was feeling very hungry – when a shadow fell across the doorway.

  “Domnall?”

  “Bethann!” Domnall pushed back his chair, making to rise.

  Bethann came and drew out a chair beside Chlodie, nodded a greeting to her, and waved for Domnall to stay in position. He frowned.

  Chlodie looked up at the brawny sergeant’s face. He looked worried.

  “Bethann? What news?” Domnall sounded disconcerted, his brow lowered.

  “It’s McLammore,” Bethann said. “There’s trouble.”

  Chlodie looked from one to the other of them, feeling
her heart start to thud, uneasily.

  “Who is..?”

  “McLammore is a fanatical fool…the one who started this nonsense.” Domnall jerked his head toward the door, indicating the forest, the troops, the chaos of the previous evening.

  “Domnall?” Chlodie whispered.

  “Don’t fret, milady,” Bethann said, though she could see how his eyes had tightened in the corners and she knew he was as worried as she was. “It’s not so bad.”

  She looked at the expression he wore with Domnall and guessed he was hiding something.

  “Tell me,” she said.

  “He’s come up to the inn,” Bethann said. “He thinks you staged the attack, to overthrow him. He means business,” he said. He looked drawn. “He challenged you.”

  “No!” Chlodie heard herself say it, voice shrill and taut. “No,” she repeated, breathlessly.

  Domnall rested a hand on her hand.

  “Hush, lass,” he said gently. “It’s alright. I’ll no’ let myself be drawn to something stupid.”

  She tried to believe his tone, but found she couldn’t. She could see the tightening at the corners of his eyes and mouth, the hard look in his eye.

  He is a soldier and he cannot ignore this. His pride won’t let him.

  She glanced at Bethann. He was Domnall’s brother-in-arms. He could talk him out of this madness!

  “Bethann…”

  “I need to see him.”

  Bethann shook his head. Chlodie looked at him, her heart stopping.

  “Domnall…please…”

  “I won’t do aught daft.”

  She let him squeeze her palm, nodded as he gave her a reassuring grin. Tried to believe his smile. However, she was dead inside.

  Domnall went out into the hallway of the inn. They both followed.

  Domnall turned to them in the doorway.

  “Bethann,” he said. “Where is he?”

  “He was at that barn, yonder,” Bethann jerked a head at a stone construction on the edge of the woods, which Chlodie guessed must have been a carriage house at times when this inn was more popular. She looked at Domnall.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  He smiled and took her hand. Then he nodded to her.

  “You stay here,” he said. “Keep an eye on everyone. Bethann especially,” he grinned. “You know how he can do daft things, sometimes.”