by Madelyn Hill
Rossalyn strode across the bailey and greeted clansmen as she entered the keep. He gazed at her, proud she was his, proud she’d lead beside him.
“M’laird, would you care to go riding with me?”
He sighed at the appearance of Fiona. “Nay,” Malcolm said as he confronted his childhood friend.
She gripped his arm. “Has she turned your head against your clan?”
Malcolm rubbed at his temple. Frustration led him to retort, “Nay. My people are my first concern.”
He had wed Rossalyn out of worry for his clan, his people. To ensure they’d a leader whose woman cared for his family as he did.
She slapped her hands on her hips. “Aye, she has. And how do you ken she will be true to you or the clan?”
Anger surged through him. Fiona knew his anguish after his betrothed had made a cuckold of him. How he’d been deemed a fool right before his clan. When he’d announced his intent to wed, Fiona had said nary a word. She hadn’t brayed then, as now. Had she kenned Trina loved another, and the wedding would never happen? Did she expect the betrothal to be broken? Would Fiona have dared keep such a secret from him?
He frowned as she moved a step toward him. “Do you think about you and me? When we were a lad and lass, swimming in the creek and then riding across the land?”
“We were bairns. And now friends, clansmen, nothing more.”
She came closer. “I would be good to you, Mal.” Fiona trailed her finger along his arm.
He caught her hand and removed it from his arm. “I will remain true to my vows. Rossalyn is my wife, Fiona, not you.”
Fiona glared at him with a jerk of her chin. “And how do you ken she’ll stay true to you? You’ve made that mistake before.” She spun to leave and halted when she saw Cam standing with his arms crossed before his chest.
“What are you doing, Fiona?” he growled.
“‘Tis none of your concern.” She stomped off.
Malcolm would have to do something about her, though he wasn’t certain what might be best. His gaze lit on Mairi, chattering to Auld William. The man chuckled as Mairi giggled and pointed to her pony.
A stable boy led the beastie over to her. And the wee lass jumped up and down.
“Fiona will come around,” Cam said. “The lass needs time to adjust to the change.”
“Mayhap.” But he’d serious doubts. Fiona’s tenacity warned she’d not stop until she gained a boon. How could she still believe they were to be man and wife?
“Keep an eye on her. If she vexes my lady, tell me.”
Cam gave a mock salute. “Will do, m’laird.”
Malcolm sighed, then crossed to where Mairi entertained Auld William and some of the clansmen.
“Shall we ready the tree?”
Her eyes widened. “Aye.” She held out her hand.
Malcolm stared for a moment, swallowed, then grasped her wee fingers.
She babbled the entire way to the main hall.
“M’laird, are you ready to set the tree?” Brae called.
“I get to help,” Mairi boasted.
Malcolm grinned when the woman winked. “Lucky lass.”
“Brae, can you send a lass to fetch my wife?”
The woman cackled. “Fetch her, you say?”
“No need, Brae. I’m here.” Rossalyn moved forward. “I’m so excited to help, I couldn’t concentrate on the menu.” Her eyes glittered and a full grin curved her luscious mouth.
One glance at her hopeful face and he kenned. Everything about her cast aside what Fiona had said. He wasn’t certain he trusted her fully, but he’d give her a chance.
“Mother, we’re going to decorate the tree!”
“Aye, my love.” As she spoke to Mairi her gaze never left Malcolm’s face.
It warmed him to the core and he yelled, “Come, clansmen. Help us place the tree.”
Cam led six other men who hefted a giant evergreen into the main hall.
People clapped and cheered.
‘Twas as if they were back in time and his father led the beginning of the Yule season.
After the men had secured the tree, Malcolm lifted Mairi onto his shoulders and handed her a candle. “Set it on one of the branches.”
Rossalyn came close, so close he inhaled the feminine essence of her. She reached up, and as their bodies brushed, heat filled him. Her blue eyes sought his and red stained her cheeks.
She secured the candle base on the limb as Mairi giggled.
The happiness surrounding him, he would credit to the lovely woman beside him and her enchanting daughter. Och, if only his parents had lived to meet her. The thought sobered him for a moment before Mairi was patting his head for another candle.
One of his clansmen shouted, “M’laird, ‘tis riders approaching. Wearing Gordon plaid, they are.”
Rossalyn gasped.
He eased Mairi off his shoulders, remaining calm when he wanted to reach for his sword and rush to the bailey with it raised high. “Remain inside the keep, no matter what happens.”
“Aye, Malcolm.”
He nodded and strode from the main hall to see what new threat lay outside the gates.
Sweat coated Rossalyn’s palms and her heart ratcheted against her chest. ‘Twas Father with the riders, she felt certain. Did he discover she’d escaped with Mairi?
Aye, he must have.
She urged Mairi to the back of the main hall, away from those still gathered around the tree and adding candles.
Such a joyous occasion, ruined by her fear of her father.
“‘Tis men from your clan?” a voice said behind her.
Rossalyn spun around and stared at Fiona. “Aye.”
Fiona gripped her arm and pulled her farther away from the clansmen. “Mayhap you should leave through the back. Won’t he be vexed at Malcolm if he discovers her?” She glanced at Mairi. “I’ve heard he is a violent man.”
Had Malcolm told Fiona of her treachery? Rossalyn moved in front of her daughter. She’d hate for Malcolm to experience her father’s wrath. Panic filled her. What if he ended up like Daniel? Images of her dear Daniel, bloodied and dead, flashed before her. She must keep Malcolm safe, no matter the circumstances. “Where would we go?”
“I ken just the place,” Fiona whispered.
She had to save Malcolm. Save the man she loved. “Take us there. Now.”
She gathered up her skirt and gripped Mairi’s hand. Fiona led them through the kitchens and to the back of the keep. As they rushed along, Fiona snatched tartans which were hanging on a peg. They entered the back of the bailey and raced to the stone perimeter.
“‘Tis a door right there.” Fiona pointed to the iron gate in the stone palisade. “When you are outside the wall, run to the woods, they’ll never find you there.”
Unease prompted Rossalyn to say, “What about Malcolm?”
Smiling, Fiona shoved them toward the gate. “I’ll let him ken where you went. Once the men are gone, he’ll come for you.”
“Please have him tell my father’s men I’m heading back to Gordon lands. Tell them . . . tell them Malcolm rejected me because of Mairi.” They’d have to determine a plan to deal with her father in the future, but at this moment, she must get Mairi to safety.
The woman nodded. “Grand idea, m’lady.”
Rossalyn felt wretched over the evil thoughts she’d had about this woman, now that she was helping them and Malcolm. She gripped Fiona’s hands. “Thank you.”
Fiona shook her head. “I’m doing my duty to my clan. We can’t have the laird of the keep injured, can we?”
Feeling a bit of relief, Rossalyn gathered Mairi and they scurried to the gate. It creaked open, but no one seemed to notice. She heard shouting and kenned her father was with the m
en. They had to get away—to keep all of them safe.
When she wasn’t found, Fiona would provide the easy explanation of how Rossalyn had left to return home. Her father would certainly not balk at that.
“Run, Mairi,” she prompted her daughter.
They raced to the copse of trees.
From their vantage point, Rossalyn saw her father and his men yelling at the gate. She couldn’t make out their words, but fury marked their gestures.
Please, she prayed. Do not let Malcolm be harmed.
Chapter 11
“Gordon.”
The man barged forward, still astride his steed. The rest of the men gathered behind him. “Where’s me daughter?”
Malcolm braced his arms across his chest and stared down his nose at the odious man. “Do you mean my wife?”
Gordon moved to dismount his horse. Malcolm’s men unsheathed their swords and took a step forward.
“What do you want us to do, Malcolm?” Cam moved to his side.
“Stand down. For now.”
Taking in the men before him, he decided he had two options. Let his clansmen loose, or invite the bastard in to see his daughter was safe and sound.
“Don’t threaten me, Sutherland. She took something that was mine.”
Now they were getting to the meat of it. He met the man’s gaze straight on. “Ahh, do you mean her daughter Mairi?”
A flicker of surprise flashed in the auld man’s eyes. “Aye, she was to stay with me. You’ve taken my daughter away from me and the lass is the only kin I have of her.”
His horse sidestepped. Gordon swore and his men encroached further.
“All right then. I’ll show you to your daughter.” Malcolm nodded to his clansmen.
All of the men started to dismount. “Nay,” he growled in a low voice. “Only Gordon.”
Rossalyn’s father held his gaze for a moment, then waved off his men. “Stay alert. If Sutherland’s men take one step closer, you will engage.”
Malcolm scoffed aloud at that.
“Are you certain you don’t want us to run them through?” Cam asked with a bloodthirsty grin.
Malcolm turned toward Cam. “I will have him see Rossalyn and Mairi and then force him to leave.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Cam asked as he rubbed his chin.
His man was itching for a fight. “He will meet his maker.” And Malcolm would be more than happy to be the one who dispatched Gordon to hell. The man had made Rossalyn’s and Mairi’s life pure misery. A man needed to be punished for such actions.
He nodded toward Gordon. “This way.”
They strode to the main hall. “Wait here while I get them.”
Malcolm searched the chamber for his wife and Mairi. They weren’t there. He looked in the kitchens and main hall. All to no avail.
“Where’s me daughter?” Rossalyn’s father demanded when Malcolm returned to him.
He cocked a brow at the man, not certain he wanted to share he didn’t ken where his wife was. “Tell me, Gordon. You were quick to wed her off, why do you want her now?”
“Och, lad.” The laird removed his tam and twisted it in his hands. “‘Twas wrong of me to force her to wed.”
An icy chill ran down Malcolm’s spine. He didn’t believe the man, to be sure, but there was something else he couldn’t name that his instincts warned him about. “Do you mean to go back on our deal?” If the bastard was going to break the contract, there would certainly be hell to pay.
Gordon grimaced, then held up his hands. “Now, Sutherland. If my daughter doesn’t want to be married to ye, then aye, the deal will not take place.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But if she does want to remain, then we’ll continue forward.”
Malcolm didn’t believe him. In fact, he thought the man was purposely trying to retain Sutherland warriors and keep his daughter. Which he would not allow. Nor would he let the man take her or Mairi.
Gordon rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Where is she, Sutherland?”
He merely cocked his brow at the sword. His men were nearby in case they were needed, but Malcolm had no doubt he’d best the old man in a sword fight. More important was the location of his wife. Where was she?
He spotted Brae, coming from the kitchens. “Brae, have you seen m’lady?”
Surprise lit the woman’s features, then worry etched across her brow. “Och, she was here a moment ago, m’laird.”
Brae started toward the main hall, searching, as Malcolm followed. Where was his wife? Had Gordon distracted him while one of his men took her?
Nay, he thought as he dragged fingers through his hair, his clan would have stopped such a deed.
“Are you well, Mal?”
He turned and glared at Fiona. He crossed his arms before his chest and asked, “Have you seen my wife?” In his gut he kenned the answer. Fiona was bound to cause trouble. ‘Twas his fault he didn’t speak more directly to her; threaten consequences to her actions, regardless of what she thought.
She blanched and looked to the ground.
He came within a step of her. “What aren’t you telling me?” He growled so loudly, clansmen gathered around, hovering close. He wanted to yell for them to go, search for his wife.
“I hate to be the one to tell you—”
He gripped her arms. He would get the truth from the woman. “I doubt that.”
She lifted her chin, but her gaze shifted and he kenned the look. ‘Twas guilt.
“Do you wish to ken where she is or not?”
“What have you done?” He peered right into her eyes. She held his gaze for a moment, then glanced away. “Tell me now, woman.”
She tried to shrug out of his grip. “I saw her leave.”
Malcolm jerked back. “Leave?”
Clansmen gasped as Gordon sputtered.
“Cease,” Malcolm ordered as he dragged her into the main hall. “Are you certain, Fiona?”
Fiona’s eyes glittered with animosity. She jerked away from his hold. “Aye, she said she was headed back to Gordon territory.”
“What?” Dear God, she’d taken wee Mairi and left him.
“She grabbed her daughter and snuck out the back gate.” Fiona’s jaw flexed and she straightened her shoulders. “I told you, Mal.”
Something in her tone irked him, set his instincts on alert.
At his lifted brow, she turned contrite. “I’ll gather the women to help look for them.”
“Stay here,” Malcolm growled, then shouted, “Brae!” The woman scurried from the kitchens. “Send one of the men to Cam and have him start a search party. M’lady has fled to the wood.”
Gordon pushed between them. “Me daughter is out there on her own?”
Malcolm tried not to throttle the man where he stood. “You had no concern for your daughter when you forced her to wed me.”
The man grimaced and scrubbed his hand over his face. “Och, ‘twas the clan I was thinking of.”
Cam and some of his strongest men came forward. “We’re ready, m’laird. I left half guarding Gordon’s men.”
Gordon shifted to accompany them.
“Nay, remain where you stand. Ian, watch over him and do not let any of his men leave.” To Brae he ordered, “Have the women gather blankets and hot food.”
Ignoring Rossalyn’s father as he cursed him for being a ‘bastard,’ Malcolm and Cam exited the keep and paced to the rear gate, clansmen and women with hurriedly-collected supplies following behind.
Then snow began to fall.
Rossalyn and wee Mairi were in the forest, in the cold.
Shoving his fears aside, Malcolm pushed forward. If he wallowed in those fears, ‘twould do nothing to save his family.
“We
must find them!” he shouted to his clansmen.
Malcolm didn’t ken when Rossalyn had gone from a wife of necessity to someone he cared about, but it seemed the change had happened in a thrice. Naught he could do about his heart becoming hers.
Rossalyn dragged Mairi through the snow-covered thicket and toward the copse of trees where they’d gathered mistletoe. They had to hide from her father. For she’d rather die in the woods than go back to Gordon territory.
Not that she’d put her daughter at risk. Poor dear had a rough time of it with her wee legs. They must find a cave or some fallen trees in which to hide.
“Mother,” Mairi said. “I’m hungry.”
In their haste to leave they had the tartans, but she’d not grabbed more than a blanket she’d seen on a chair near the door. No food or warmer clothing.
What a fool she’d been. In fact, they’d all been fools to think her father would keep his word. Now she and Mairi were hiding in the woods and who kenned when Malcolm would realize where they were?
Please, she prayed, find us soon.
She couldn’t help but feel the coward. She glanced at Mairi, trembling in the cold. ‘Twas her daughter she thought of when she fled—and Malcolm.
Dear God Almighty, if something happened to either of them, she’d never forgive herself.
“Come, Mairi. We must hurry.” Why hadn’t she asked Fiona to hide Mairi somewhere in the keep? She’d stay warm and Rossalyn would lead her father into thinking she was returning to Gordon territory.
Much to her daughter’s credit, she didn’t complain. Truly another pony wouldn’t be out of the question.
She gripped Mairi’s hand tightly as they trudged up a hillock. There had to be a place to hide. Then Rossalyn spied several fallen trees through the snow. A perfect place for concealment.
She pointed to the trees. “Over there, my love.”
They reached the trees and Rossalyn wrapped the blanket around Mairi, then pulled her daughter onto her lap. Hopefully her body would keep her wee one warm enough. After they hunkered down, Rossalyn tucked tartans around them to ward off the cold and falling snow.
