Highlander Unbroken (Highland Adventure Book 8)

by Vonda Sinclair

  Neacal muttered a curse.

  The women's eyes widened.

  "Begging your pardon, mistresses. If she's done what I think she has… damn her hide."

  "What?" Tavia asked.

  "I'd best not say until I ken for certain."

  Loud screams echoed from down the corridor. Neacal opened the door. Matthew and Dugan carried a yelling, writhing Constance into the room and Neacal slammed the door shut.

  "Constance!" he said. "They're going to put you down and you're going to sit on this chair."

  "Go to hell!"

  "Do you want a gag tied in your mouth?"

  "You've already had your men tie me up, so why not?" she yelled, but she looked more furious than afraid. "How dare you treat your own cousin this way?"

  She calmed and the men set her on the wooden chair.

  "Got caught, aye?" he asked.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "I'm certain you know. And I know what you've been up to."

  She narrowed her eyes, sending him a direct glare. "Indeed? What have I been up to then?"

  Rage crawled through Neacal. He needed facts or a witness before he openly accused her.

  "Smell her," he told Leith.

  "What?" Constance squawked.

  The bodyguard cautiously drew closer to her and bent over, sniffing loudly. Constance tried to draw away, but Matthew held her in place.

  "Get a good whiff," Neacal said.

  Leith sniffed a few more times, near her neck and hair. "Aye, that's the scent. Roses."

  Constance glared icy daggers at each of them. "Are the lot of you mad?"

  "What were you doing outside my bedchamber door a quarter hour ago?"

  "I wasn't outside your door. 'Tis absurd."

  Neacal lifted a brow. "I knew you would deny it." He turned to the other women. "Tavia, Mistress, search her for weapons."

  "What!" Constance struggled to push herself from the chair.

  "Guards, hold her arms and legs so she doesn't hurt the women."

  Matthew and Dugan restrained her.

  "I'm sorry, miss, but I must do as the chief bids," Tavia said.

  "You would, you old crone!"

  Neacal shook his head. Tavia did not look old at all. "Pay her no heed and see if she has a dagger strapped to her leg."

  Tavia searched beneath her skirts and a moment later pulled out a foot-long dirk.

  Just as he suspected. Rarely did women carry such large weapons, especially while inside the castle. And he had never known Constance to have a fondness for knives.

  "What! Another one?" Mistress Gilbert drew out another long, sheathed dagger from her other leg.

  She must have intended to stab him. "Keep searching. We must disarm her."

  The women located a small blade in her bodice, too.

  "Why are you carrying so many weapons?" he demanded.

  "I never know when you'll go berserk and try to kill me," Constance said.

  He snorted, then turned to the housekeeper. "Have two maids you trust search her room for more weapons. Watch them to make sure they look in every nook and cranny. Then, bring the weapons here. Tie her to the chair," he told the guards. "All of you, except for Mistress Gilbert, stay right here with her until I return. If she says anything at all, tie a gag in her mouth."

  Annoyance twisting through him, Neacal slammed the door on the way out.

  In the great hall, he paused and called out, "Vardon Clemmens."

  "M'laird?" The piper meekly shuffled from the corner, his wide gaze only darting to Neacal once.

  "Come with me." Neacal led the way up the steps to the solar. Once the man entered, Neacal closed the door. "What have you told my cousin, Constance Gordon?"

  "What… what do you mean, m'laird?" he stammered.

  "What did you tell her about Anna Douglas?"

  "Oh… um…"

  The man's hesitation and silence irked Neacal to no end. "You ken who she really is, do you not? You ken who her clan is."

  "Eh… aye."

  "So what did you tell Constance?" Neacal prompted.

  "That she… is the wife of Chief MacCromar."

  "Damnation." Neacal hated that his hunch was correct. "Do you realize what you've done?"

  Warily meeting his gaze, Vardon hesitated, then shook his head.

  Neacal forced himself to remain calm when all he wanted to do was shake some sense into the man. "You've put Anna's life in danger."

  "How?"

  "Don't be a dimwit, man! Constance has sent a missive to Blackburn MacCromar and he will be here forthwith to try to reclaim Anna. Do you know anything about the man?"

  He shook his head even harder, his eyes growing wider by the second.

  "He's a murderer. If he were to get his hands on her, he would beat, abuse and possibly kill her."

  "Nay. His wife?"

  "Indeed. Why on earth do you think she would leave her fine home and become a traveling minstrel? For the fun of it?" he demanded. "Nay, she's trying to survive."

  "Pray pardon. I did not think Constance knew the man."

  "That matters not. Never underestimate her. She is brilliant… and soulless."

  "But why would she go to all the trouble?"

  "Revenge against me. Do you not remember when I killed Farquar, the guard, in a fair fight? Constance professed to love him, and now she intends to destroy… Anna." The woman he loved. Neacal shoved his fingers through his hair.

  Damnation. His own cousin was the biggest traitor of all. And this daft piper was just the pawn she needed.

  "You have been played, man," Neacal told him. "She used you to get the information she wanted."

  Vardon shook his head, looking pained. "I never meant to hurt Anna or anyone. I just thought…"

  "Aye, well, a lot of men fall for Constance's false charms. She kens how to get what she wants. You would be wise to stay away from her from now on." Neacal opened the door and waited.

  Vardon hastened out of the room and, once he'd disappeared down the stairwell, Neacal headed to his own bedchamber. He knocked at the door. "'Tis me," he murmured to Anna through the wood. "I need to talk to you for a moment."

  Anna unbarred the door and opened it. Her worried gaze searched his. "Is everything all right? Who was the guard chasing?"

  "All is fine for the moment." Neacal closed the door and patted Dunn's head, trying to calm the whining, excited animal. "I strongly suspect it was Constance outside the door."

  Anna's mouth dropped open. "Why? What was she doing?"

  He shrugged. "Most likely planning to stab me in my sleep. Although I have no inkling how she planned to get past Dunn. Mayhap she was hoping the dog would ignore her since he's so accustomed to her being around. I have a question for you. Did you realize Vardon knows your true identity? Did you tell him?"

  Her eyes rounded. "Nay! Of course not."

  "Well, he just admitted to me that he told Constance, and I'm guessing she sent a missive to Blackburn. That explains why his men were in the area and at the tavern in the village."

  "How did Vardon find out? And even if he did know, why would he betray me? I thought he was my friend."

  "I don't think he realized how much it would hurt you. He figured Constance didn't know how to contact Blackburn. 'Tis plain to see he's smitten with Constance. She's been using him for information to get revenge against me because of Farquar's death. She knows I care for you. She's hoping Blackburn will take you away from me."

  "Good heavens. I didn't know she was so vindictive."

  "Aye. And she has never been the most rational person." He released a long tired breath. "I'm going back to speak with Constance again, and see if I can get any more information from her. After breakfast, I'll see the two clans off."

  "Very well. Do you think 'tis safe for me to return to my room?"

  "I'm not certain because I don't ken who might have been working with Constance. I'll have to find out who the messenger was who delivered the missive to Blackb
urn. Why not stay here and sleep until I return?" Neacal kissed her forehead and couldn't resist kissing her lips, too. He had so wanted to do far more than sleep while he had her in his bed, but that would have to wait.

  "What if one of the servants wants in this room?" she asked. "I wouldn't want the elders to ken I'm sleeping here."

  "I'll have Leith stand guard outside. He'll turn away any person who tries to get in here."

  "Very well."

  After kissing her again, Neacal returned to the library where Constance sat, no gag in her mouth as of yet. Her expression was blank. The room was silent as the others looked to him.

  "You'd best hope that none of your MacDonald cousins die in the upcoming battle. Their blood will be on your hands."

  "I'm not the one committing adultery," she said, smugness written on her face.

  "Don't play the holier-than-thou role. 'Tis not convincing coming from you."

  "You're a murderer and an adulterer. I don't have to play at anything."

  He gave a humorless half grin. "Everyone kens I have never murdered anyone. As to Anna Douglas' marriage, 'tis a farce she was forced into. 'Twill be proven null and void. You think 'tis funny to bring more destruction to the MacDonald clan by leading the MacCromars here?"

  "You are the one who has taken the chief's wife prisoner."

  "You ken good and well Anna Douglas is here of her own free will, taking refuge from an abusive murderer."

  "You mean Lady MacCromar? I'm certain Chief MacCromar will want her back. What do you think? He has been searching for his missing wife for a long while now."

  "And you told him exactly where she is."

  "'Twas my civic duty to help."

  "I knew you'd sent a missive to him."

  She shrugged. "You'll get what you deserve, cousin."

  Neacal shook his head, unable to believe she was a blood relation to him. She was far more like Sleat than any of the other MacDonalds. She was not at all like her mother, his father's sister.

  Mistress Gilbert entered the room, carrying a cloth bundle, then she dropped it onto the table, metal blades clanging. Neacal drew the parcel open and found three more daggers inside. He frowned at his cousin. "Planning to go to war?"

  She merely glared in response.

  "Who did you steal these from?"

  "I didn't steal them. I borrowed them."

  "Ah. Until you're done killing people? Then you'll return them?"

  "I was but protecting myself."

  "Uh-huh. Well, then, you'll feel safe locked in your chamber until the conflict is resolved."

  "Nay! I will not be locked in my room."

  "Indeed you will." He looked to Matthew. "See that she's locked in and unable to escape. Dugan, you guard her today. I'll find someone else to take over the night shift."

  They agreed and helped her from the chair to escort her to her chamber.

  After Neacal left the room, he met Hugh in the corridor. "Where are they taking Constance?"

  "To her room. She was lurking about outside my chamber during the night and carrying weapons. I don't trust her. She's had it in for me since I was forced to kill the guard, Farquar, she claimed to love. She's being locked in her room until further notice."

  Hugh laughed. "That is ridiculous."

  "Is it?" Neacal demanded, sudden fury scorching over him. "You underestimate her as everyone else does. The lass is a menace and she would like naught more than to see me dead."

  "I think you're overreacting but… you're the chief."

  "Exactly."

  "What is this we've heard about some clan we don't know attacking us?" Hugh asked.

  "You can thank Constance for that, too. She sent a missive to the vile and villainous Chief MacCromar, telling him that Anna Douglas is here."

  "Why is he interested in her?"

  "He claims to be wed to her."

  Hugh's white-bearded chin dropped. "Wed? We cannot keep her here! If she's the chief's wife, she must go back to him. That is adultery, lad."

  "Nay, 'tis not, for the marriage will be proven illegal. Anna was forced into it." Neacal went on to explain the entire situation, then said, "Blackburn will beat and abuse her—perhaps even kill her—if she's returned to him. Do you wish her blood upon your hands?"

  "Nay," Hugh said. "But 'tis not our quarrel. Our clan is still suffering from the last siege."

  "That's no reason to allow a woman to be murdered."

  Hugh watched him with calculating eyes. "I ken you fancy her. 'Tis obvious to everyone."

  "Whether I fancy her or not, I still wouldn't send a lady back to her husband's murderer. Do you have no honor?"

  "Of course I have honor! But our main loyalty should be to our clan. Not a woman who's a stranger. If we have a battle, half our clan could be killed. We don't have that many soldiers to spare. You'll dwindle our ranks to naught."

  "Why don't we let the clan decide? If they say nay, that they don't wish to protect an innocent woman, I'll fight Blackburn MacCromar and his men single-handedly."

  "You are as mad as everyone says!" Hugh shouted.

  "Aye, indeed, I am!"

  "You are nay fit leader for this clan!"

  Rage snaked along Neacal's veins. "Well, then, problem solved. I'll take the lady and leave. You lead the clan if you think 'tis such a simple and easy job."

  As Neacal turned to go, Bhatar approached along the corridor. "What is the ruckus about? I could hear the shouting from the great hall."

  "You heard Hugh. I'm not a good leader for the clan."

  "He didn't mean it," Bhatar said.

  "Of course, he meant it." Neacal drew in a deep breath, forcing himself to let the anger drain away and think logically. "I'll ask the clan who wants to stand with me and fight beside me for the noble cause of protecting the innocent. Do you think our clansmen are loyal and honorable, or terrified, like Hugh?"

  "I'm not terrified!"

  "You're a knight. I expected more from you," Neacal said.

  Hugh sighed. "I am merely thinking of the clan. I cannot sanction more of their deaths."

  "MacDonalds don't back down from anyone. We don't fear the MacCromars or Sleat or anyone. 'Tis better to die fighting for what we believe in than to cower in the corner until we're old and gray."

  Hugh's eyes narrowed. "I may be old and gray, but I have never cowered in a corner. I was fighting on battlefields before you were born!"

  "Aye, I'm well aware. So, what happened? My father hailed you as one of the bravest and most fearsome fighters."

  Hugh nodded, his eyes glinting with suppressed emotion. "Things change, lad."

  "Not that much. The same things are important now that were important back then."

  He nodded, looking defeated of a sudden. "Aye. I simply don't want to see the clan destroyed, more of our kin killed."

  "You give up too soon. We have allies. Colin brought a few dozen men. And Chief MacRury is sending for several of his own."

  "And what if MacCromar brings his own clan allies? We could easily be outnumbered," Hugh said.

  "I could ask the MacKenzies for help, but it might take a week for them to arrive."

  "Aye, I think you should," Bhatar said.

  "But if MacCromar asks for his wife back, how can you keep her here?" Hugh asked.

  "Easy. I keep her behind these walls and I shoot him and his men full of arrows from the ramparts."

  ***

  Blackburn MacCromar knew of only one way to get his wife back—hold a knife to her sister's throat, while she watched. He had known for months exactly where his wife's sister, Kristina, was—hiding with her mother's family. He'd left her alone thus far. He hadn't been desperate enough to go carting a blind lass about the countryside.

  But Anna—as she was calling herself now—had pushed him beyond the limits of his patience. Over a dozen of the men he'd sent to capture her were now dead. His war leader had told him in secret he'd only seen one man helping her—a MacDonald. Surely, 'twas a whole clan, exp
erts at subterfuge, who had slain his men.

  Standing in the bailey, he let his gaze scan over the castle he'd taken from his cousin, John. Oh, high and mighty John, who thought he was better than his lowly bastard cousin. "Not so high and mighty now, are you?" he said beneath his breath. Nay. And the most interesting possession he'd taken from his cousin was his wife, Susanna. Indeed he knew she'd shortened her name to Anna to try to hide from him, but he was no idiot. She might have eluded him all this time, but the missive he'd received over a week ago from a woman on the west coast had told him all he needed to know. The MacDonald chief thought to take his wife away from him. He would be damned if he would allow that to happen.

  Since the MacDonalds had already killed several of his men, he was not going to underestimate them this time. He would take his whole garrison plus all the men loyal to him for miles around. This MacDonald chief didn't know what he was up against.

  Blackburn's younger brother, Keith, and his war leader, Red Holme, approached.

  "Mount up! We go to Stirling," Blackburn told them.

  "Stirling?" Keith asked, his black hair blowing back in the stiff wind.

  "Aye. We're going to take a hostage, then we'll travel to Moidart and Bearach Castle. Once my sweet wife sees my knife at her sister's throat again, she will do whatever I say."

  Keith scowled. "But the lass is blind by your hand."

  Blackburn sent his brother a withering glare when he truly wanted to backhand the whelp. If Keith was going to challenge him, 'haps it was time to turn him out and let him fend for himself.

  "With all due respect," Keith added.

  "Indeed?" Blackburn asked. "I doubt you respect me at all. And I didn't blind her," he growled. "She fell and hit her head. 'Twas not my fault. She shouldn't have fought."

  "You cut her face. I fear you will kill her this time. Lady MacCromar, too."

  "Why do you care? What is it to you?" he demanded.

  "There will be a price on your head, brother. I want us to avoid that at all costs."

  "That's not going to happen." Blackburn smiled smugly. He had paid the constable a sizable sum to make certain no charges were brought against him for John's death. And they had no proof, anyway. "I'm not going to kill either of the women. Once Susanna comes with me willingly, I'll bring both ladies home. As long as my wife stays in line, her sister will be safe."