The Reluctant Highlander

by Scott, Amanda

  That wet shift held his gaze a split-second too long, for when he turned back toward Àdham with his sword at the ready and murder in his heart, he placed his chin perfectly to meet Àdham’s fist as it flashed past the upheld sword and knocked Hew Comyn flat.

  “Lass, get back into the shack and collect those ropes. Quick, now, for I doubt that Hew here will oblige us by staying unconscious much longer, and I’ve little energy left to deal with him if he comes to.”

  “What about the other one?”

  “Has he moved?”

  She shook her head. “Do you think I killed him?”

  Her voice shook, and he hated to hear that. Keeping one eye on Hew, he moved to the other man’s side and felt for a pulse in his neck. It was there, weak but steady. “He’s not dead yet, so we’ll tie and gag them, and then we’ll leave them. Go now.”

  She went and came back with the four lengths of rope and his plaid.

  “I found this in the corner, but there were no other weapons,” she murmured.

  “The plaid will be useful,” he said as he deftly tied Hew’s hands behind him with one rope and his feet together with another. “You must be cold.”

  “I’ve had no time to think about it,” she said. “How will you get your plaid back to shore, though? It cannot be easy to swim with it or wise to get it wet.”

  “Bless you, sweetheart, it’s been wet many times. But these two dastards have doubtless had the kindness to fetch us a boat.” He moved to the one she had clubbed, Dae Comyn, and tied him as he had tied Hew.

  “Won’t the guards yonder hear us or see us if we row back across? It would be safer to swim underwater, would it not?”

  “Nae, lass, we’ll take their boat. We’ll keep the island between us and that fire, and if those louts have heard naught yet, they’ll not hear us rowing. Wrap my plaid round you whilst I finish tying up this chap. Do you still have Rory’s knife?”

  “Aye, I carried it in my teeth when I swam over here,” she said with a smile as she handed it to him.

  “We’ll discuss your swim later,” he said. “Wrap yourself up well now.”

  He was sure that it had been the sight of Fiona in that clinging wet shift that had held Hew Comyn’s gaze long enough for him to catch him with that punch. He was glad to have had that time. But the idea that Hew had seen her in such disarray made it hard to resist strangling the man or splitting him with his own sword.

  Instead, Àdham used the wee knife to cut strips from Dae Comyn’s plaid. Stuffing one into Dae’s mouth, he used the second to tie it there. Then he moved to Hew and did the same. As he was tying that gag in place, Hew’s eyes opened.

  “Don’t glower at me like that,” Àdham said. “You were a fool to spend time taunting me and staring overlong at my lady. I’d liefer kill you for that, but I won’t. It will shame you enough, I think, for your lads to find you like this. Also, if you freeze to death overnight, it will be God’s doing, not mine. After what I saw at Inverlochy, you should be glad I don’t take my revenge for that out on you.”

  Straightening, glad that his legs felt like his legs again and that his fingers had managed the ropes, he knew that he still had to get Fiona, Rory, and himself away from Comyn land before the louts near the fire decided to tend to their duty.

  They found the boat and saw that the Comyns had thoughtfully wrapped the oars to keep them from banging against the oarlocks. After that, it was easy to keep the island between them and the guardsmen as Àdham rowed gently to shore.

  Keeping low, so that their moving figures would draw no attention from the opposite shore, they made their way back to where Rory and Sirius waited.

  “I saw ye a-coming, or I’d ha’ hooted,” he told them in hushed tones as he handed Fiona her kirtle and she quickly donned it and laced its bodice. “Sirius alerted a wee while ago, so I think some’un else be a-coming yonder.”

  Fiona murmured, “We’ll be trapped between them.”

  “Nae, then, m’lady,” Rory said. “His tail be a-wagging.”

  “Come, lass,” Àdham said. “We’ll go to meet them.”

  “S-Sir Àdham?” Rory’s voice faltered.

  “What is it, laddie?”

  “Be ye vexed wi’ me, sir?”

  “We’ll talk some later,” Àdham said quietly, resting a gentle hand on the boy’s shaggy curls. “But you did me a great boon tonight, guarding my lady.”

  “Ye shouldna be vexed wi’ her, either, I think,” Rory said with more of his usual confidence. “I dinna ken how anyone else could ha’ swum there without making the water move about. The stars were out, ye ken, so even them fool louts yonder might had seen big ripples and got up tae see what caused ’em. But she stayed underwater the whole time.”

  “I am sure she did,” Àdham said, urging the boy forward. “You lead the way now, and go quietly, lest your judgment about Sirius’s welcome was faulty.”

  He soon learned that the boy and Sirius were right, for he heard a quiet “Loch Moigh” ahead and recognized Fin’s voice.

  So did Fiona, for her footsteps behind Àdham came to a stop.

  Recognizing that quiet voice as Fin’s, Fiona froze where she was, certain that he would react more vehemently than Àdham had—thus far, anyway—to finding that she had deceived everyone and sneaked out of the castle with Rory.

  She stood still for only seconds, though, before Àdham turned and reached for her. Drawing her near, he bent to speak into her ear. “There will be a reckoning, mo chridhe. But it will come from me, not from anyone else.”

  At that moment, his words were less than reassuring, because she knew that he was as answerable to Fin as she was. But she had to continue walking, even so.

  They met Fin moments later, and to her further chagrin, MacNab was with him. Even by moonlight, she could see disapproval in the lanky squire’s expression when his cool gaze came to rest on her.

  There was no more conversation until they were away from the loch and nearing the top of the pass with the moon behind them and Castle Finlagh below on its knoll, making a shadowy picture against the starry northwestern sky.

  Then, at last, Àdham broke the silence. “How did you know, sir?”

  Such was their kinship and ease of discourse that Fin answered matter-of-factly, “We learned that two of the Thane of Cawdor’s tenants had mentioned meeting you near Nairn. So MacNab and I went to Cawdor to talk to them. MacNab had also spoken to Hew Comyn and a cousin of his, whose insolence to MacNab stirred his suspicions that they knew more than they admitted knowing. I had heard about that island prison of Comyn’s, so we came along to see if they had put you there. Evidently,” he added gently, “someone else had heard about the island, too.”

  Fiona shivered at his tone.

  Rory, walking beside her, looked up at her and opened his mouth, but she shook her head. She knew if he spoke, he might admit to having insisted that Fin would take too many men along if he hastened to Raitt’s loch.

  That, she decided, was no admission to make just then.

  Àdham remained quiet for a time before he said, “It was fortunate for me that the two of them did come along, sir.”

  “Which of you is going to tell me just how you escaped?”

  Àdham looked at Fiona.

  Chapter 24

  With a sigh, Fiona said to Fin, “Rory figured it out, sir. But he knew that you and MacNab had gone to Cawdor, so he came to me. He also knew that the Comyns sometimes kept prisoners on that island, and—”

  “Do I ask how he came to know that particular fact?”

  Fiona was trying to think of an innocuous way to explain when Rory straightened his shoulders, looked directly at Fin, and said calmly, “I lived wi’ them, Sir Fin, so I ken much that I wish I didna ken about them, that’s how. I didna say nowt about any Comyns when I came tae Castle Finlagh, ’cause I knew ye were enem
ies wi’ them, and I feared ye wouldna want tae keep me if I told ye.”

  “Is that why you didn’t tell Sir Àdham who they were at Lochaber?”

  “Nae, but I didna ken him then, and I feared he’d send me back tae them. Hoots, though, he saved me from Rab Comyn and scared Hew off. Then he brung me here. So when I heard MacNab tell her ladyship that some’un may ha’ seen him in Nairn, I took Sirius and we followed his trail well past Raitt. I kent then that them Comyns—likely Hew hisself—had got him. But ye’d gone, so I told her ladyship, thinking she might ha’ a notion o’ what we could do.

  “I didna think she’d want tae go and find Sir Àdham herself,” he added, glancing at Fiona. “But it be as well she did, though. I dinna ken how anyone else could ha’ got tae him without them guards a-seeing or a-hearing ’em.”

  They walked on in silence for a time, each with his or her thoughts. But as they topped the pass, Àdham said, “Hew had come to suspect that I killed Rab Comyn at Lochaber, so he and his cousin sneaked onto the island without alerting their men that they were there. Before Hew tried to kill me, he talked some blethers about having expected to trade me for Fiona so Ormiston would persuade Jamie to release Alexander. But that—”

  “Faith,” Fiona exclaimed, “that’s who that man is!”

  “Which man, lass?” Fin asked. “We know that they are Comyns. I suspect, as well, that they are responsible for the attack on you near Lochindorb.”

  “Aye, sir, but I just realized why Hew Comyn’s voice sounded familiar, although the bearded man I saw tonight did not seem to resemble anyone I had met before. But, Àdham, he is the fop who accosted me in the assembly hall that night. He said I’d be sorry that I’d rebuffed him. Do you think he wanted to kill me, too?”

  Àdham shook his head. “Not if he thought he could hold you for ransom, mo chridhe, especially if he believed Ormiston could get James to release Alexander.”

  “James does listen to him,” she admitted. “He even seeks him out when he wants his advice. Even so . . .”

  “Hew Comyn failed to capture you, lass, so his reasons need not concern us now,” Fin said. “Moreover, in the wake of the royal army’s defeat at Inverlochy, James will have much to do to restore order. I doubt that Ormiston would seek his aid at such a time, even to save his beloved daughter. His reply to such a demand would more likely be made in person, at the head of his own army.”

  Fiona smiled then for the first time since she had set Àdham free, knowing that Fin was right about her father.

  Seeing Fiona smile, Àdham glanced at Fin and saw that his uncle was looking directly at him, his expression somber.

  “We could use such an army now, ourselves,” Àdham said. “Our forces are sadly depleted.”

  Fin grimaced. “Would you truly welcome a host of mad Borderers to the Highlands, lad? I have fought them, and I can tell you, they take no prisoners and know not the meaning of mercy.”

  “With respect, sir, you could say the same of our fellow Highlanders. But from what I have hitherto heard of Borderers, much of their ability lies in their horsemanship. That would avail them naught in our treacherous mountains.”

  Shifting his gaze to Fiona, he saw that she was frowning.

  “What is it, sweetheart? Does our discourse offend you?”

  “No, sir, for I have learned that Scots are much the same wherever they live. I was thinking about tonight’s events on that island. Do you think that man will die? Not Hew, but the other one.”

  “He was still breathing when we tied him up,” Àdham said. “He is apparently Hew Comyn’s cousin, Dae.”

  “I met only the one called Hew in the assembly hall. . . . Why do you frown, sir?”

  Àdham shook his head. “I do not frown at you. You awoke a memory. Someone else mentioned a chap called Hew . . . Sakes, it was Gilli Roy! I saw him talking to that fop after he’d accosted you, and Gilli said his name was Hew but that he knew naught else about the man. Now, I wonder about that.”

  “Many men are called Hew,” Fin said. “’Tis as common a name in the Lowlands—or in England and Wales—as it is here.”

  Fiona’s expressive face told Àdham that their words had stirred an unwelcome thought in her mind.

  Ignoring Fin, he said, “What troubles you now, lass?”

  She hesitated, eyeing him warily.

  Gilli Roy had not told anyone how far north she had gone the day they’d met Àdham on his return to Finlagh, and Fiona still felt deeply grateful for that kindness. She was therefore reluctant to betray him or herself now. But if Gilli did know Hew Comyn better than he had suggested, surely she ought at least to tell Àdham so.

  Would it be the truth, though? Gilli had seemed like a lost soul in Perth and behaved much more confidently in the Highlands. That transformation was one that she could understand, because she had experienced an initial loss of confidence in the Highlands that she had rarely felt in the more familiar Borders and Lowlands.

  “Fiona?”

  Starting at Àdham’s single word and realizing that she had forgotten what, exactly, he had asked her, she struggled to remember. As they passed through the gateway into the bailey, she said, “I cannot believe that Gilli Roy purposely made a friend of Hew Comyn, sir. I was trying to imagine such a thing, but it will not serve.

  “Gilli knows that the Comyns are enemies of Clan Chattan, so I doubt that he would purposely encourage one in a town where others in the Confederation might see them. Faith, did you recognize Hew Comyn in town?”

  “Nae, but if I’d ever seen him before I met him at Lochaber, I do not recall it. Also, in town, I saw only a foppish churl to whom my complaining cousin talked more amiably than he did with his own people.”

  “Mayhap, his own people were not as sympathetic to his unhappiness about being in a town he did not know or like, with people whose language he did not properly understand or speak. Mayhap Hew Comyn took unfair advantage of that.”

  Àdham gave her a more searching look then, and something in that look disturbed her senses in more ways than one.

  Rory, whom she had completely forgotten was still with them, took advantage of the pause to say, “Be ye vexed wi’ all of us, Sir Fin?”

  Fin turned his attention to the boy. “Should I be, laddie?”

  “As tae m’self, I couldna think o’ aught else tae do but talk tae her ladyship. I didna think ye’d like it if I told Lady Cat, instead. But ’haps I should ha’—”

  A gasp from Àdham and a look of comical dismay on Fin’s face interrupted the boy, permitting Fin’s dry admission that he would have disliked that very much. He added, “I do think, though, that I shall pay a visit anon to Comyn of Raitt.”

  “MacNab and I would go with you,” Àdham said, thus, unbeknownst to himself, forcing Fiona to stifle her protest at the thought of his walking into danger again so soon.

  “Nae,” Fin said. “I’ll take my men. But I will send word to Raitt that I seek a peaceful meeting. I doubt that Hew will have told his father the whole of this tale, and I do think that Comyn should hear it. He will understand as well as I do that endangering a knight of Jamie’s own making and that knight’s noble lady might well persuade James to change his mind about who should lawfully possess Raitt.”

  The porter, evidently hearing their approach, opened the door then, and Fin thanked him, adding, “As for you others, I will bid you good night. I’d wager you are all longing for your beds.”

  “I am,” Àdham admitted. “Good night, sir.”

  Fiona echoed him, but when she looked at Àdham again, he had turned to Rory and was telling the boy to take himself off, that they would talk more on the morrow. Having expected Fin to have stern words for her, she decided that he expected Àdham to attend to her and wondered if Àdham would feel obliged to be more severe than he might otherwise have been.

  Interruping her thoughts, Àdham ac
knowledged MacNab, saying, “I shan’t need you tonight, so go to bed.” Then, he turned back to Fiona. “We’ll go right up, too, sweetheart. I’ll admit I’m worn right through.”

  “Truly, sir?” she asked, raising her eyebrows and smiling at him.

  Giving her a probing look, he said quietly, “I may recover more swiftly when I’m safely in mine own bed.” Taking her hand and tucking it into the crook of his arm, he escorted her to the stairway and then urged her on up the stairs ahead of him.

  She could not read him and, for once, had no idea what he was thinking. He seemed to be interested in bedding her, but, since he had said nothing yet about her venturing into Comyn territory with only Rory and Sirius to accompany her, she knew not what to expect when they were alone.

  He reached past her to open the bedchamber door and then, with a gentle hand to her back, ushered her in and shut it behind them.

  She stood still, waiting.

  “Look at me, Fiona-lass.”

  Swallowing, she turned.

  “I shan’t eat you, I promise,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

  With a sigh of relief she walked into his arms, and he held her tight.

  Leaning her head against his chest, Fiona heard his heart beating and thought of how she might never have heard that sound again had the Islesmen or the damnable Comyns killed him.

  Realizing that her hair was still damp, Àdham said, “We need to get these wet clothes off of you. I suspect that your shift is still dripping.”

  “It doesn’t feel wet,” she said. “I feel only the welcome warmth of your body.” After a pause, she added softly, “I feared you were angry with me.”

  “Sweetheart, I’d have to be as much of a rogue as Hew Comyn is to be angry with the woman who rescued me, especially since I’m in love with her. I do have some things that I want to discuss with you, but they can wait for another time.”

  “What sorts of things?”

  “Not now,” he said firmly. “You must know that I am not a violent man—”