Christmas in the Highlands: Anthology with 2 Stories

by Madelyn Hill

  “Come close, Mairi. I will keep you warm.” Please, she prayed.

  She hummed to her daughter and rubbed her arms to help keep her warm.

  If Malcolm came to her, she vowed to fight her father. He’d ruled her life with fear since her mother died and more so after Daniel’s death. How much would she continue to sacrifice to the vile man?

  For her fear of him already cost her one husband.

  Chapter 12

  “Search behind every rock or tree,” Malcolm bellowed to the men. His blood roared and his heart pounded nearly as fierce. He had to find them.

  “M’laird, there are tracks heading toward the north,” Cam called.

  Thank God for the fresh snow. ‘Twould make tracking his wife and Mairi easier. When he thought of them in the cold, rage rushed through his veins. I swear I’ll kill Gordon and send Fiona away.

  Both had caused his wife too much pain.

  Malcolm pushed up the hill, keeping a keen eye on the footfalls before him. “Span out, we need to cover enough land.”

  Several women followed with warm clothing and a bag of hot food. When they found his wife and Mairi, they’d certainly be cold.

  Why had Fiona let her leave, and flee into the forest without as much as a horse or provisions? Och, he knew the reason. Her jealousy had blinded her against good sense as well as her loyalty to her laird and his lady.

  He could throttle both women; Fiona for allowing Rossalyn to leave and Rossalyn, for tearing out his heart. If anything happened to her, he’d . . . He’d—

  He loved her.

  Had she’d chosen to go back to Gordon Keep?

  Didn’t she declare her love? Why would she leave him, a man she professed to love, for a keep she equated to hell?

  He pushed forward, eager to get to his wife and their daughter.

  He had to discover why Rossalyn wanted to leave when she’d said she loved him, forcing him to search for her in the midst of a snowstorm and frigid temperatures.

  “M’laird, we’ve found them.”

  Malcolm ran to where his men stood. He knelt onto the snow and with shaking hands lifted his wife, as one of the women gathered Mairi into her arms, wrapping her in a cloak.

  “Rossalyn?” He shook her and hugged her close. “Rossalyn?”

  She wriggled in his tight grasp. “Mairi? Where is she?”

  He swept flakes of snow from her eyelashes. “She is well, m’lady,” he whispered close to her cheek and inhaled her lovely scent. His heart battered against his chest.

  Rossalyn cupped his face with icy hands. “Malcolm, my father—did he hurt you?” In the moonlight, her steady gaze searched his face.

  He grinned at the thought of a man as auld as Gordon causing him harm. “Nay, my love. He awaits us at the keep.”

  Panic widened her eyes. “You must make him leave.” She gripped his jacket. “He will kill you.”

  Malcolm furrowed his brow. “M’lady, you’re distraught.” Did she really think her father would kill him?

  He lifted her into his arms, his men flanking them as they descended the hillock. “Secure Gordon’s men. Then meet me in my chambers.” He had to get his wife and Mairi warm.

  Malcolm carried her into the bailey and then the keep. Cam followed with Mairi clasped close.

  Gordon bellowed after them as Malcolm took the stairs two at a time. “Let me see me daughter.”

  Malcolm ignored the man and continued his hurried stride.

  “Get hot water,” he demanded of the serving lasses. “Gather blankets and stoke the fire.”

  His wife shook like a leaf in his arms. He felt it to his core. One glance at Mairi, still in Cam’s hold, and his heart sank. So pale, he kenned on the morrow she could fall ill.

  “Wrap the bairn in blankets.” He glanced about. “Add more wood to the fire in m’lady’s chamber.”

  Rossalyn touched his arm. “All will be well.” She snuggled closer to him, the chill of her skin seeping into his. He gazed at her, this beautiful woman, who now curled her hands into his jacket as if clinging for dear life. He carried her to the laird’s chamber.

  Why did she leave? He had to ken.

  He brought her to their bed, where they’d made love.

  A lass came to the door. “M’laird, the lady Mairi is awake and asking for porridge.”

  He grinned despite the situation. “Aye, and make sure she has warm milk as well.” With a quick nod around the room, he added, “Leave us.”

  The women and men who’d help find his wife and child exited the Laird’s chamber within a thrice.

  Rossalyn sighed and reached for him when he placed her upon their bed. “Please, don’t let go.”

  His stomach quivered with something unfamiliar, something akin to stark need for her. She eyed him smilingly, and his heart leapt. Surely, she didn’t want to leave him.

  Determined to find out why she had run, Malcolm knelt by her side and gathered her hands within his.

  “Why did you flee?” He smoothed his thumb along the soft skin of her hand. “You nearly frightened me to an early grave.”

  “Surely you wouldn’t have missed us.”

  Malcolm cocked a brow. “Do you doubt my words?”

  She shifted so that she leaned toward him. “Nay, my husband.” Rossalyn trailed her finger along his jaw, over his bottom lip. He kissed the slender digit.

  “Why?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Where is my father?”

  “I will ensure he’ll never darken our door again.”

  “How will you manage such a feat?”

  “I have a plan. ‘Twould be within Gordon’s best interest to obey.”

  Pounding rattled the door. “Let me see me daughter.”

  Every time the man had asked to see Rossalyn, he failed to mention Mairi. ‘Twas obvious the bastard cared naught for the wee lass. And when they’d wed, Malcolm would have bet the keep Gordon held no love for his daughter.

  “Leave us be, Gordon,” he shouted.

  The man continued to pound.

  She glanced toward the door. “He will never leave us be.”

  “I’ve my ways, wife.” He tipped up her chin, vowing no need to worry her with the details. “Why did you leave me?”

  “Fiona didn’t tell you?” Her frown deepened. “I asked her to.”

  Anger unfurled in the pit of his stomach. Fiona had lied to him. In the past, he’d have trusted her and Cam with his life. Now, he could only say that about one of his childhood friends. “She said you left to return to Gordon lands.”

  Rossalyn lifted from the bed and pulled him toward the window overlooking the keep. He placed his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

  “I left, dear Malcolm, because I didn’t want my father to hurt you . . . like he did Daniel.”

  She shivered and he held her tighter. He’d deal with Fiona later.

  “Your first husband?” Mairi’s father and Rossalyn’s first love. He banked the rising jealousy. Without Rossalyn’s first husband, there wouldn’t be Mairi, and the world had need of such a beautiful lass. “Tell me about him.”

  Though her father still pounded on the door, Rossalyn paid no heed, as if she had great practice doing so in the past. ‘Twas driving Malcolm to distraction, but his wife needed no more drama for the evening.

  She shrugged. “He was a fine man, kind and devoted to us. But he—he had a penchant for vexing Father and ‘twas the final argument which led to his death by my father’s hand.”

  “Your father killed your husband?” The man was the very devil himself. When I get my hands on the bastard, I’ll surely murder him. “If I’d kenned, I promise I would have gotten revenge.” He would exact revenge for all of the pain Gordon caused Rossaly
n and Mairi.

  She spun to face him. “Nay! The man will stop at nothing to hurt those I love.”

  He cupped her cheek in his palm. “Do not worry. I will never allow him to hurt you or Mairi ever again.”

  Tears glittered in her eyes and she leaned against his hand. So intimate and tender, emotion welled within him and he swore his heart expanded.

  “Rossalyn, I have to tell you—”

  The door burst open. Gordon landed on the floor.

  Malcolm turned and advanced on the man. Rage billowed around him, all the pain the bastard had caused surging forth. He heaved Gordon to his toes and slammed him into the wall. “How dare you enter my chamber without permission,” he growled in the laird’s face.

  All the color leeched from Gordon’s skin. “Let me go.”

  Malcolm crushed the man against the stone wall.

  “Nay.” Rossalyn pulled at his arm. “He’s not worth your anger.”

  “Listen to your wife, Sutherland. No good will come of killing me.”

  He sneered at Gordon. “Aye, plenty of good. The world would be rid of you.”

  “Malcolm,” Rossalyn begged. “Don’t sully your hands with him. ‘Tisn’t worth it.”

  After a glance at his wife and the mix of uncertainty and fear on her face, he let go and Gordon crumpled onto the floor. Then staggered to his feet and lumbered toward Malcolm.

  Malcolm crossed his arms before his chest. “Stand your ground, auld man.”

  “Father, you have no power here.” Rossalyn moved closer to Malcolm. “You will leave and Mairi and I will remain at Sutherland Keep.”

  Her father glared. “I’ll no listen to a lass. ‘Tis business between men and I’ll do as I please.”

  “Tell me, Gordon. Why did you come to Sutherland Keep?” Malcolm clenched his fist tight, lest Gordon would feel their weight upon his jaw.

  “I missed me daughter.” He offered Rossalyn a smirk. “She and the whelp are all I have.”

  Malcolm took a step forward. The flickering light of the fireplaces played over the auld man’s face. He looked like the devil he was. And ‘twas obvious he was lying. “The real reason?”

  Gordon’s beady eyes skittered between Rossalyn and Malcolm. “‘Tis the truth of it. After she left, I had nightmares of me wife vexing me. And I ken it was because I forced our daughter to wed.”

  Rossalyn tossed up her hands. “Mother was as gentle as can be.”

  Malcolm lifted his brow and grinned at his wife. While he appreciated the sweet, tender woman he’d married, he liked to see her spirit, especially since she used her ire against the man who’d caused her so much turmoil.

  “Why did you come?” she pressed. “You hold no love for me or my daughter.”

  “Och, you took the lass.” Gordon’s face darkened and stormy fury gathered in his eyes as tension drew tight and hot in the chamber. “She was to stay with me.” He pounded his chest. “Me.”

  Rossalyn gave a humorless laugh. “Never.” She stared her father down. “You care not for her.”

  “Aye, the lass matters not to me,” he said with a sneer, then he shrugged. “But to you—to you she matters.”

  Rossalyn gasped. Malcolm reached for her and hoisted her back just as she poised to launch herself toward Gordon. She flailed her arms, trying to grab at her father. “You bastard. You would dare leverage my daughter against me?”

  “Easy, my wife. He can’t hurt you now.” Malcolm held Rossalyn against him. He kissed her brow. “I will protect all in my household.”

  “Even the whelp of her bastard husband? She isna’ yers, Laird Sutherland.”

  “It matters not who her father is. She is my wife’s daughter and now she is mine.”

  Rossalyn turned to look up at him. “Truly?” Her expressive eyes glittered with love as she waited for him to answer.

  Och, his wife was beautiful.

  “Aye.”

  “Enough of yer blathering!” Gordon roared. “The lass was to stay with me. If ye backed out of the deal, then I’d be able to force me daughter’s hand.”

  She lurched toward him in fury. Malcolm circled his arm around her waist to restrain her. Without taking his eyes from Gordon, he said, “Nay, wife. Go and warm yourself by the fire while your father and I have a discussion.”

  He waited until she nodded, then released her. Rossalyn crossed to the fireplace, but stopped and eyed both of them. Worry etched her brow. Finally, she sat but her gaze stayed pinned on him.

  “You will leave Sutherland territory,” he directed at Gordon. “You will never show your face on my lands again.”

  Gordon sputtered. “But the contract—”

  “Aye, the contract.”

  They needed each other. ‘Twas the rub of the situation. Sutherland needed the food stores. Mayhap more than Gordon needed men guarding the borders. His rabble of clansmen could make do if they chose to get off their arses and lift a sword in defense of their own.

  “I’m an honorable man. I will not forsake the contract.” He rubbed his hand along the hilt of the sword hanging about his waist. “As long as you do not.”

  Gordon paced before him. Pinched the bridge of his nose before he swore beneath his breath and said, “You ken I bloody well can’t protect me own borders.”

  Malcolm frowned. “Then we shall continue our agreement. Our stewards will take care of all transactions. Heed me well, Gordon. Rossalyn and Mairi are under my protection.”

  The laird remained silent, most likely contemplating a different path to getting what he wanted without relinquishing his food stores. Or a plot to slay Malcolm and his men and then take over the keep. ‘Twas more likely the latter than the former, if the man were to remain true to character.

  His wife came beside him and slipped her hand into his. “Mairi and I are Sutherlands now, Father. You will never attempt to take us from the keep.”

  Bravo, my wife. He was so proud of her. Aye, he detected a slight tremor in her voice, but her strength also rang true. She was facing the enemy who’d killed her husband and made her life hell. The man who’d leveraged his only granddaughter to gain his boon. She was brave, his wife. Love filled him, so fully, it momentarily shocked him at its power.

  He wanted her. Badly. But now was not the time to ravish his beautiful bride. Later, after her father departed and headed back to the hovel he called a home—then he’d show her how much he loved her.

  Gordon inspected them, and if their unity surprised them, he didn’t show it. The clock on the mantel clicked away the seconds and then the minutes. He finally nodded. “Aye. The stewards will take care of all transactions.”

  “Wise choice,” Malcolm replied.

  “You’ll not threaten my family again, Father. Pledge now that you’ll not do so.”

  He nodded.

  “Say the words,” she insisted.

  Taken aback, Gordon grimaced, then said, “Aye, I will not threaten your family again.” While he lacked sincerity, Malcolm had to assume the man would do as he said.

  If not, he’d feel the wrath of the Sutherland clan.

  “Now, I will escort you to your steed and you will leave my land.”

  “Och, Sutherland. You could offer a man a bit of the drink before you kick ‘em out.”

  “Nay, Father,” Rossalyn answered for him. “I’m certain you’ve enough drink tethered to your saddle.”

  Malcolm chuckled. Aye, she had spirit, his wife.

  “Fine daughter you are,” Gordon muttered as he quit the chamber.

  “Remain here,” Malcolm cautioned his wife. “I’ll be back in a thrice.”

  He had to ensure the bastard left the keep and was headed back to Gordon territory. For the safety of his wife and Mairi and the safety of his clan. If he let h
is guard down now, ‘twould lead to tragic circumstances.

  They strode through the main hall, the clansmen regarding them with leery eyes. Laird Gordon had come to the keep with treachery on his mind and Malcolm kenned many knew the man was a bastard just by looking at him and his scowling face.

  “‘Tis a dire day when a father isn’t welcome in his daughter’s home.”

  Malcolm grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and led him to the bailey. “When the father threatens the daughter and his granddaughter, och, ‘tis no wonder why the man isn’t welcome.”

  As they approached the gate, Gordon’s men slipped off their horses and drew their swords.

  “Tell them all is well.”

  Gordon held up his hands. “Easy, lads. ‘Tis naught wrong.” He accepted his steed’s reins from one of his men. “We’ll be leaving this eve, we will.”

  “M’laird, what about your daughter?”

  Malcolm crossed his arms before his chest. “She’ll remain here, as will Mairi.”

  One of Gordon’s men came forward with his sword raised and intent clear on his taut features. “You’ll no be keeping m’lady and her daughter.”

  Gordon pushed the man beside. “Don’t be daft, Sean. The lass has wed Sutherland. This is where she will stay.”

  Malcolm was surprised by Gordon’s words, but pleased he realized Rossalyn would not be leaving the keep.

  “M’laird?” the man growled.

  “Let it be, Sean.”

  Sean hesitated, then skulked away like a beaten dog.

  “Off with you, Gordon,” Malcolm said. “If word is to be sent, contact my steward.”

  He nodded, called out to his men to mount up. With one last look at the keep, Gordon clucked to his steed and rode away.

  “Think he can be trusted?” Cam asked as he came out of the shadows. Malcolm kenned the man was about. ‘Twas Cam’s nature to have his back.

  “Nay, but don’t tell my wife I said so.” The thunder of hoofbeats eased and he could no longer see the Gordon clansmen.