A Long Forgotten Time: Book Seven of The Thistle & Hive Series

by Jennae Vale

  “Did I do something wrong?” she asked.

  “Brenna, we’re not really married, you know.”

  “We are. Ye married me. I was there.”

  “It was a handfasting.”

  “’Tis much the same thing,” she insisted.

  “No. Not really. It’s temporary.” He didn’t want to be a jerk about it, but he didn’t want her to be disillusioned either. “Look, I get that you haven’t been with a man before and if I had known, I wouldn’t have kissed you this morning. That was wrong and I took advantage of the situation.”

  “Was I so bad at it that you dinnae wish to do it again?”

  He could see she was getting more and more upset. She was taking everything he said the wrong way.

  “No!” he shouted in exasperation. “You were not bad at it. As a matter of fact, you were very good. I just don’t want to kiss you again. That’s it. End of story.”

  “Fine. If that’s what ye want.” She moved to the other side of the fire where she continued to brush her long, luxurious dark locks while giving him the evil eye.

  I’m such an idiot! She probably hates me now. But then he thought it might not be such a bad thing to have her hate him. It might make things easier all around. He stood and went to the plaids that Brenna had so sweetly laid out next to each other. He picked his up and moved it. If he was going to continue making her hate him, it would be best if he wasn’t sleeping right next to the temptation of Brenna MacRae.

  Nevil Munro dispatched six of his best men to find Brenna MacRae. He’d received word from a spy at Castle Treun that she’d handfasted with the man who said he was the Laird of San Francisco. He didn’t care about that. She’d have been nothing but trouble to him as his wife and he didn’t need the clan whispering about how it was that she suddenly found herself dead. No. He had another plan. One that would get him the land he wanted without the need of a wife.

  He’d been told they were on their way to Breaghacraig and he intended to stop them before they got there. Six men should be enough to overcome the laird. If he fought them, they had his permission to run him through. He didn’t need him. He wanted Brenna MacRae. Not as a wife, but as a hostage. As soon as she was in his grasp, he’d send word to MacRae telling him that if he wanted her back he’d have to surrender the land that had been promised to him in their agreement. It wasn’t a foolproof plan. There was always the chance that MacRae wouldn’t want her back, in which case he’d lock her away in a turret atop his castle, where she could rot for all he cared. MacRae had angered him greatly by backing out of their agreement. He warned him, but the fool probably didn’t think he’d follow through on the threat to make him pay. Nevil Munro could hardly wait. If only he could see Paddraig MacRae’s face the day he received the ransom note. It would make it all worthwhile.

  Chapter 10

  The morning dampness did little to brighten Zeke’s mood. He stoked the remaining embers of last night’s fire and got it blazing once again. He rubbed his hands together to warm them over the fire and then sat on the ground by it. He was frustrated by last night’s events. Brenna was behaving as if they were a real couple, instead of two people who had been thrown together by a conniving Paddraig MacRae. The sooner he got her to her brother the better. He glanced over his shoulder to where she lay curled up in a tight ball. She must be freezing, he thought. He retrieved the plaid he’d used for warmth last night and quietly brought it to cover her. He doubted that the extra layer would help. It was downright cold. He could see his breath in front of his face. He returned to the fire, but felt badly leaving Brenna where she was, so he went back and carefully lifted her into his arms, transporting her closer to the fire.

  Her eyes popped open. “Where are you taking me?” she asked, a note of panic in her voice.

  “Closer to the fire. You must be freezing.”

  He placed her on the ground where she would feel the warmth emanating towards them from the wood that crackled and burned. Brenna was awake now, but remained silent, which Zeke thought might be a good thing. If she was angry with him, she’d be happy to be rid of him when they reached their destination. He attempted to hand her a piece of bread, the cheese and a knife. She just sat there staring into the fire.

  “You should eat,” he said, continuing to offer her the food.

  “I’m nae hungry,” she turned her head away from him.

  “We should probably get going then.” There was no point in staying. If they left now they’d get in a few more hours of riding before they stopped again for the night.

  “Aye.”

  Zeke stood and packed up their camp. He waited until the last possible moment to extinguish the fire, wanting Brenna to be warm while she waited. She never once looked his way.

  Gathering Vala and Olwydd, Zeke retied the saddle bags and then waited for Brenna to approach. He reached for her to help her up into the saddle, but she batted his hands away. “I’m capable of mounting me own horse.” The fire in her eyes told him to back off.

  “I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.” Silence might be a good thing, but this was going to make the rest of their journey miserable. He was really bad at this. He didn’t want her to hate him or be angry with him. “Brenna, I apologize for my behavior last night. I just wanted you to know that there can never be anything between us. I didn’t want you to get your hopes up.”

  “I wasnae getting me hopes up. I ken ye wish to be rid of me as soon as we get to Breaghacraig.”

  “I’m not trying to get rid of you. I’m only doing what we agreed to before the handfasting.” He couldn’t seem to get through to her. “We’ve still got two days of travel ahead of us. Let’s try not to argue.”

  Brenna nodded her head in agreement, but he could tell she was still holding on to her anger.

  Those kisses they’d shared the day before had awakened something in her that she’d never known and she wanted more of them… more of him. She was so inexperienced in these matters that she continued to find herself saying and doing the wrong things. Anger at Zeke was her only weapon in the war she was waging with her heart. It would keep her safe. No matter how much she wanted Zeke, it was better to fight her attraction to him. He’d refused her last night and it hurt too much to get over with a few kind words from him. She knew he was only doing it out of a sense of honor, which was one of the things that drew her to him, but that knowledge only made her angrier with herself, with her inexperience in these matters. It was all so new to her. She simply had no choice. Remaining silent and keeping her distance were the only things standing between her and the fool she was sure to make of herself if she didn’t.

  They moved along the path at the same sedate pace, but Brenna felt the need to move more quickly. She wanted to get to Dougall and Helene before too much damage was done to her heart. She took Vala up to a trot and passed Zeke, who seemed to be in a world all his own.

  “Hey, where are you going?” he shouted after her.

  She heard the sound of pounding hooves, but they weren’t coming from behind her. She sent Vala into a full gallop realizing that it couldn’t possibly be Zeke. These sounds were coming from the trees on either side of her and there was more than one horse. Panic seized her. Who could it be? She glanced behind her, but Zeke wasn’t visible. Turning her head back to the road in front of her, she had to bring Vala to a skidding stop, almost unseating herself in the process. There before her were three men blocking the road. She recognized the leader as the man who’d stopped her the last time she was headed to Breaghacraig.

  “Ye’ll be coming with us, lass,” he said.

  She spun her horse around looking to escape, but she was surrounded on all sides. Where was Zeke? One of the men took hold of her reins, pulling her horse in close to his. They began to walk back the way they’d come and it wasn’t long before Brenna saw Zeke.

  “Zeke!” she cried. His body lay sprawled on the side of the road. Olwydd stood by his side. “Did ye kill him?”

  No one answere
d her as they passed him by. “Ye cannae leave him there. We must help him.” Her pleas fell on deaf ears.

  “Move on, men!” the leader commanded and they took their horses up to a fast trot.

  Soon they were too far for Brenna to see Zeke as she looked back. What if he’s dead? If she thought that way, she’d surely fall apart, so she adjusted her thinking. He has to be alive. I have to see him again. She had to let him know she was sorry for being angry with him. If only she could take it all back. She’d give anything to have last night back. Regret weighed heavily on her mind, but the worst of it was that she wasn’t sure she’d have a chance to apologize. She might never see Zeke again. Brenna sat up straight in her saddle. She would be brave. She knew exactly where they were headed. The only thing she didn’t know was why.

  Dougall MacRae and Logan MacPhail first spotted the body on the side of the road as they were headed for Castle Treun. They had planned a brief visit to ensure that all was well there.

  Jumping from their horses, they carefully approached the man who lay face down in the dirt. It appears someone had smashed his head from behind. Logan rolled him onto his back.

  “Dougall, are ye seeing what I’m seeing, or am I daft.”

  “Nae. I see it too. How did he get here?”

  “Ye ken how he got here as well as I. The question is why is he nae at Breaghacraig and instead laying here injured on the road.”

  “Zeke?” Dougall gently lifted his head. Zeke opened his eyes and shock registered on his face as he recognized the two men.

  “Why did you hit me? Where’s Brenna?”

  “Brenna was with you?” Dougall glanced around, as did Logan.

  “We didnae hit ye,” Logan said. “It seems there were a group on horseback.” He pointed to several sets of hoof prints on the road.

  “Do ye remember what happened?” Dougall asked.

  “Brenna and I were riding to Breaghacraig. She was angry with me, so she trotted off ahead. Before I could catch up with her, someone hit me from behind. That’s all I remember.” He touched his head, wincing in pain.

  “Why was me sister with ye?”

  “I was bringing her to see you.”

  “And how did ye end up at Castle Treun?” Dougall asked.

  “Edna. She gave me this horse.” He gazed at Olwydd, who stood passively by, occasionally poking Logan with his nose. “I was told it would take me where I needed to go, which was Breaghacraig. I wanted to find Sara.”

  “She’s fine. She’s me wife now,” Logan assured him.

  “I know. I miss her. I want her to come home with me.” Zeke tried to sit up, but seemed to think better of it.

  Logan was about to argue the point, but Dougall interrupted him. “Logan, we must find Brenna,” he said. “We can discuss Sara later.”

  “Do ye ken who it might have been who took her?” Logan asked.

  “The only one I can think of is Nevil Munro,” Zeke replied.

  “And why would he do that?” Dougall wasn’t sure what was going on or why Brenna had been with Zeke, but he didn’t like hearing that Nevil Munro may have taken his sister.

  “He had an agreement with your father to marry her. Paddraig withdrew from the agreement. Something about land that Munro wanted, but your father wasn’t willing to give him. I handfasted with your sister to get her away from there. I was going to take her to you and then return home… with Sara.”

  The two men eyed him with some suspicion. Dougall’s only concern was Brenna, but Logan was concerned about Sara.

  “Can ye ride?” Dougall asked.

  “I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out.” Zeke tried to hoist himself up with little luck.

  Dougall and Logan helped him to his feet and then examined his head. “Yer bleeding,” Logan noted. He went to his saddlebag and retrieved a cloth, which he gave to Zeke. “Ye may need some stitches to close the wound. Hold this in place and we’ll see if the bleeding stops.”

  Zeke did as he was told and although he was feeling a little wobbly on his feet and his head was pounding, he managed, with some help, to mount Olwydd. “We’ve got to follow them. We have to find Brenna.”

  “Aye,” Dougall said. “Munro is likely holding her for ransom. He’s nay the kind of man ye want to cross. Me Da was an idjit to do so. He should never have offered Brenna to him in the first place.”

  “Do you think he’ll hurt her?” Zeke asked.

  “Not if me father gives him what he wants. If he doesnae, he’s capable of things I dinnae wish to think about.”

  Despite the pounding in his head that resulted with every hoofbeat and the fact that he had no idea where he was going, Zeke moved Olwydd up into a gallop and took off down the road with Dougall and Logan hot on his heels. They had to find Brenna before it was too late.

  Paddraig MacRae raged at the lad who stood before him. “Ye tell Munro that I’ll nae be bullied into giving up me land. If he wants a war, a war he’ll get.”

  The young lad, eyes wide in fright, turned and ran from the great hall and Paddraig MacRae assumed straight back to Nevil Munro.

  “Paddraig, why did ye have to cross him?” Greer stood, hands on hips and anger in her eyes.

  “The land wasnae part of our original agreement. I’ll nae give him what he wants.” Paddraig tossed back a tankard of ale, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “If he harms one hair on Brenna’s head, he’ll pay fer it with his life.”

  Greer rolled her eyes in her head and turned to leave.

  “I ken what ye’ve been up to,” Paddraig said, halting her mid-step.

  “What do ye mean?” she asked.

  “I ken ye’ve wanted Brenna gone from the moment ye set foot in Castle Treun.”

  “Aye, but ye wanted it too.”

  “I agreed with ye that she should be married and have a husband and a home of her own to care for. Did it really matter whether ’twas Munro or Barrett?”

  “Nae.”

  “Ye say it didnae, but I think ye wished her to be married to Munro because ye believed he’d treat her badly.”

  “Paddraig, how can ye say that? I was only thinking of what was best fer her. Laird Munro has much wealth, a strong army to build an alliance with ye, and land. She’d have everything a lass could dream of.”

  “Except the one thing she wanted, which was love.” Paddraig choked back the tears. He really needed to stop drinking, it was turning him into an overly sensitive old man. When would he learn? He’d allowed his poor judgement to interfere with Dougall’s choice of a wife and now he’d done it again with Brenna. He only hoped that Zeke Barrett would treat her the way she was meant to be treated—with respect. He was a sorry excuse for a father. He’d been blinded by his young, beautiful wife. She filled his brain with nonsense that he chose to believe, instead of remembering how precious Brenna was to him. “Go! Away with ye. I cannae bear to look at ye.”

  Greer sneered at him. “Nor I ye. Ye are a sorry excuse for a father and a sorrier excuse for a husband.” She stormed from the room, leaving him wondering how he would fix this mess he’d created.

  Chapter 11

  The turret was bare of furnishings and so Brenna MacRae was forced to sit, back against the wall on the cold, hard floor beneath an arrow slit, the only opening other than the door she’d been escorted in through. It provided little light for her to see by, but just enough space for an icy breeze to blow through, chilling her to the bone. She wrapped herself tightly in her plaid and curled into as small a ball as she could possible manage in an effort to ward off the chill air while she waited. The uncertainty of her situation weighed heavily on her mind.

  She hadn’t seen Laird Munro since her arrival, but she knew it was only a matter of time before he came for her. Not knowing what would befall her when he did, filled her with dread. If only Zeke would come for her, but she knew that to be a futile thought. She’d seen his body laying motionless on the road. She choked back tears knowing he was either dead or would be soon enough without anyone
to help him.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of someone climbing the stairs. The muffled sound of voices on the other side of the thick wooden door had her straining her ears in an effort to hear what was being said, but it was to no avail.

  She girded herself for whatever might happen next as the door opened and Laird Nevil Munro stood framed in the light pouring through the doorway.

  “Welcome to yer new home, Brenna MacRae.” His face was in the shadows and so she was unable to ascertain his mood as he spoke, but she wasn’t hopeful he would be kind.

  “This is not me home,” she protested.

  “Dinnae argue with me,” he barked. “Yer insolence willnae be rewarded here as it was at Castle Treun.” He moved closer to her and she shrank back afraid he might strike her. Instead he crouched down to her level and stared into her eyes. There was no warmth in his gaze and it did little to put her at ease. “If yer Da doesnae give me what I want,” he hissed, “I’m afraid it will be yer home for a long, long time.”

  Her heart sank. Nothing that had happened over the last months would lead her to believe that Paddraig MacRae would give up anything at all to rescue her.

  “I willnae be yer wife. Ye cannae make me.” Brenna sat up straighter and did her best to speak with confidence and strength although she wasn’t feeling either.