She was terrified, and he was leaving her. It had been hard enough to fight back the guilt without meeting her gaze, because there was a real possibility he wouldn’t survive the day, and he couldn’t face her to assure her that he would be back. He’d apologize later if he had the chance, but for now, he had to ensure the plan was in motion, so he made his way to the house where he’d be joining the Covenanters.
Cameron men hid in plain sight, surrounding the inn named The Red Grouse, the nearby buildings, and deep within the forest. Great pains had been taken to look like locals, with weapons hidden in baskets, barrels, and wagons. There were Grahams, MacLeans, and MacDonalds here as well, along with other clans Alan wasn’t as familiar with.
Late in the evening before, after the meeting in the tavern with Niall and his men, Alan had met with Alexander Gordon, the leader of the Royalist Resistance, and they’d devised the plan he saw in place now. It had been too risky for him to be seen with the Camerons, so he’d reached out to one of the most dangerous men in all of Scotland to organize the counterattack. Alex made sure the lairds had advance notice of the threat against them and relayed the layout of the strategy the two had devised to combat the Covenanters’ plans of murder. He’d made certain the man would confirm with Dougal that the women be on their way to Kentillie in the morning and out of danger.
When he’d finally broken free from Gordon, he’d run to make sure Kirstie was safe. Relieved the Covenanters had finally trusted him with the plans, and he’d been able to pull together what he thought to be an ingenious campaign, he was bone weary and exhausted. Falling asleep listening to her melodic voice, he dared to relax his guard and dream of a life with her.
Now, he lay in wait as more men arrived at the house from which the Covenanters planned to begin their assault. The Royalists had their prescheduled meeting at the location across the street, and this home had a nice view of the inn where the attack would happen. It had become the Covenanter’s base of operations. Last night, they’d told him everything, and now he was here to pretend for the last time he wasn’t a Cameron.
…
As Dougal came in and knelt in the corner to collect their bags, Kirstie made her escape. Fighting back the tears, she struggled to breathe as she ran through the halls of the castle toward Lachlan’s and Malcolm’s chamber. She had to tell them one last time to be safe and to make certain Alan came back to her.
As she turned the corner to start up the steps, she stopped suddenly. Hamish descended the steps in front of her. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He weaved his arm through hers as he pivoted and started to lead her up.
“I was expecting to hear an answer from you last night.”
Damn, she’d forgotten he’d ask her to marry him. She swallowed. “I am so sorry. After the meeting, my brother sent me back to my room and posted a guard. I couldnae go anywhere.” She was stalling, avoiding telling him the truth and breaking his heart, but it was never a good time to impart such news. “Ye are such a sweet man, Hamish, but I think with our religious difference, we just willnae suit.”
His grip on her arm tightened just a little. She wasn’t sure if he was angry with her or if he was shocked by her response and trying to keep himself upright. “I did make it clear to you that religion wouldn’t be a problem between us.”
“Ye say that now, but when we have children, I am certain ’twill become a problem. I think ye are a wonderful man, but I think ye need to find someone who shares yer beliefs and will be able to worship at yer side.”
“I want you.”
They were at the landing now. He continued down the hall toward Lachlan’s room. She didn’t stop him, because that was her final destination anyway.
“Have ye considered Niall’s sister? She would make a good wife. She’s verra bonny, and she shares yer beliefs.”
“No. That isn’t in the plan. I will marry you.” She stopped, but he pulled and she stumbled alongside him.
“I am sorry, but I will choose my own husband.” She tried to yank free, but his hold remained strong.
Dragging her down the hall and past Lachlan’s door, he didn’t respond.
“Let go of me, Hamish.” His grip tightened to a painful vise as she struggled to yank free.
He still didn’t answer as he opened a door with his free hand and pushed her through. Her foot caught on her skirts, and she fell to the floor. The door clicked shut, and she looked up to see him standing above her with a twisted grimace on his lips.
She scrambled to her feet and skirted around the nearest chair to put a barrier between them. “What are ye doing?”
“You have made the wrong decision. I had hoped you would cooperate, but this may be better. I’ll have to break you in, but you will learn to obey me.”
“Stop this.” Fear was replacing the anger she’d felt moments earlier as she realized she didn’t know this man at all. Had his kind, cool demeanor been a facade all this time?
“When you are my wife, you will have no choice but to obey.” Walking slowly up to the chair, his face turned placid as he again seemed to reverse into the man she’d gotten to know these last few months.
“I willnae marry ye. Did ye no’ hear me?” Her grip on the back of the chair tightened as her body tensed.
“You will.” His eyes darkened but didn’t give away any hint of emotion.
“Ye are starting to scare me.”
“Good. You should be afraid.”
Chills ran down her spine, and she froze as he yanked the chair from her grasp and tossed it across the room. As she watched it fly through the air, something struck her side where she was still bruised from the attack in the stables.
Pain erupted, and her knees buckled as she crumpled back down to the ground. He stood over her as she shook.
“You will not move if you know what is good for you.” He removed strips of cloth from his pocket, and her eyes widened.
Scrambling backward, she jumped to her feet and ran for the door. She tried to call out for help, but he was too quick, pinning her instantly to the stone wall just beside the door. With his body weight pushed into hers, she couldn’t scream, couldn’t even breathe. He was much stronger than he appeared.
His hand was suddenly on her cheek, and he pushed something into her mouth then grabbed both of her hands and yanked them behind her. He pulled and she had no option but to obey as he guided her down to the floor. She struggled, but it was futile.
When she was flat on the ground, he put a knee into the base of her back and wrenched her hands together. Material dug into her wrists as he wound it around the sensitive flesh several times in different directions. His yanking roughly at the material caused pain to shoot up through her arms as he tied the ends together. He did it so smoothly that it crossed her mind that he’d done it before, like she’d seen men wrestling pigs for sport.
He tugged at the bindings. “That will do.” Was that pleasure she heard in his voice? She shivered.
Taking her arm, he wrenched her to her knees and knelt beside her. She tried to spit the cloth out of her mouth, but just as her tongue loosened it, she heard a rip and felt a slight tug as he tore the bottom of her dress.
“Nice,” he said, then his arms came around and placed the new strip of fabric over the one she’d not yet dislodged. He pulled it across her mouth and tied it tightly behind her head. Her eyes watered at the ache in her wrists as she struggled.
“You and I are going to have a lot of fun, Kirstie,” he sneered in her ear.
There was nothing enjoyable about this, she would have said if she could, so she attempted to hit his head with hers, but he grabbed her hair and jerked her head to the side.
“You will marry me, and when your brothers are gone, I will run your clan and you will convert. I will save my wife. It may appear harsh to you at the moment, but you will thank me for it.” His blue eyes were hard and filled with a zealot’s religious conviction. He honestly thought he would be helping her, and that was what scar
ed her the most; he couldn’t see the wrong in what he was doing through the haze of his Covenanter principles.
Her brothers.
Hamish was in on the plot. Would he murder for his beliefs?
She shook her head in denial. Hamish was too kind and God fearing to be behind that. Oh God, had he been planning this all the times he’d come to visit her at the Macnabs?
No, she didn’t know him; he had her tied up on the floor of his room.
He must have taken her looking away for some form of disobedience, because she doubled over as his fist hit the small of her back just below her ribs.
Balling up, she struggled to breathe in through her nose. Her body’s natural reaction was to gulp in through her mouth, but no air was getting in that way.
Head spinning, she was pulled to her feet and dragged to the chair still sitting by the hearth. Hamish pushed her down into it and kept one hand clasped around her arm. She felt him stretch for something nearby and then cringed as ropes came around her to bind her to the seat.
Chapter Thirteen
Furniture was pushed to the edges of the common room. Alan fidgeted in the cramped quarters of the house where the Covenanters had chosen to stage their attack. It wasn’t a small house, but it was hot and stuffy and almost filled to overflowing with men ready to shed blood for a religious idea. They were no better than the king they railed against.
“What are we waiting on?” a man whose face Alan couldn’t see yelled out. “They have been in there long enough.”
“Patience.” Niall held his hand up, palm out and answered. “We’re waiting on”—he was interrupted by a knock at the back door—“that.” He strode over to the door and asked, “Who’s there?”
A muted reply penetrated through the thick wooden door. “’Tis Neville.”
Niall lifted the latch and eased the door in. “Give us the news.”
“He sent me to tell ye he’s got the lass, and ye can attack as soon as they get started.”
Alan’s eyes narrowed, and he turned to Niall, who he had mistakenly thought was in charge of this operation. A prickle of unease assailed him as a drop of sweat trailed down the small of his back. “What’s he talking about?”
“Hamish. ’Tis the other part of the plan. We didnae tell ye last night because we thought ye still might have some kind of brotherly feelings toward her.”
Ice spread through his veins while he fought to remain impassive. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and chills raced down his spine.
Niall looked back to the boy. “Did she agree to marry him?”
“Nae. He wasnae pleased.” Neville, a boy of about fifteen years, shook his head with a despondent air. “’Tis no’ a good idea to displease him.”
Alan looked back to Niall, who watched him, gauging his reaction as if this was some sort of test. “Tell me about this other plan.” He was surprised at how coolly the words rolled from his lips, because he felt anything but calm.
“He’s going to wed the Cameron lass and take over the clan.” Niall shrugged as if to say, I tried to talk sense into him, but he wouldnae hear it.
“But what will he do when she doesnae agree? She willnae convert.” Alan could feel his voice rise as the words escaped from his constricted throat.
“Aye, she will.” Niall gave a resigned grimace. “Neville, show him what Hamish does when ye question him?”
The boy’s eyes drifted down, and his face turned a darker shade of red than his hair. He slowly lifted his shirt, and Alan’s heart stopped beating. The lad’s pale torso was covered with bruises and burn marks at varying shades of healing.
“’Tis a shame, too. I liked the lass myself.”
“Where are they?” Alan was able to manage only after he gulped. He remembered the light bruise on Kirstie’s side this morning and how the ones on this boy were magnified tenfold.
“He had it planned all along. Hamish and Argyll, they were both going to leave last night, but Hamish couldn’t get to the Cameron lass. She had a guard.”
Alan’s eyes shifted between Niall and Neville. “Yer certain he has her?” Neville nodded, and Alan’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach.
“He’s on his way to marry the lass then up to the Cameron lands. He cannae be here and risk looking as if he had a part in the death of the Cameron laird.” Niall continued as if uninterested. “Hamish thinks to comfort the people at their loss. Bring them to God his way and take the clan.”
Hamish had seemed so normal, boring even. All along, he’d been the one behind the plot. He and Argyll had both fled to deflect any blame if the events of the day didn’t turn out as they hoped. Hell, this must have been what he’d almost overheard that night in the kitchen.
Kirstie was in grave danger. She was stubborn and wouldn’t give in to his demands, even if it was in her own interests.
The Camerons would be able to handle this group of men. He needed to get to Kirstie before something bad happened. He clenched his fists. If Hamish hurt her, he was a dead man.
“’Tis time,” Niall said. Alan stood there looking toward the back door, wishing to escape. “Let’s go,” came a little more forceful, and Alan moved toward the front since several men had now gathered behind them and blocked his easy exit through the rear of the building.
The men who had been crowded in the house spilled from the door into the street and ran for The Red Grouse on the other side. It was eerily quiet, considering their number.
Up ahead, he could see the first men reach the inn and throw open the door. Several ran in. Alan had taken his time closing the distance. He was only halfway across the street when the procession of men stopped. He knew why. Shouts rang out from inside. “’Tis empty!”
The Red Grouse’s owner was a Royalist. That was why the Covenanters had chosen his establishment for the sure slaughter. But the Royalists knew of the plan, and the owner of the tavern had a hidden tunnel beneath the inn that led to his brother’s house next door.
All of the Royalist lairds had walked into that inn to make the Covenanters believe they were inside but had sneaked across to the house undetected and prepared to strike. The back door was barricaded and the windows had all been shuttered and locked so the only way in and out was through the front. It was what Argyll’s men had counted on, but the tables were turned. Now, a good number of the Covenanters were in the building surrounded by Royalist forces.
Before the men could figure out what had happened, the Royalists came from their hiding places and had the men surrounded. Lachlan came into view and gave a small almost imperceptible nod to Alan. Niall caught it and turned to him with ice in his eyes.
“Ye did this.” Drawing a sword, the man held it up between them.
“Aye, I did.” Alan unsheathed his own sword but left it at his side.
“Why?”
“I am no Mackenzie.” Alan shook his head. “They turned my family out. The Camerons raised me, and I believe everyone should be able to worship the way they want.”
Clangs of metal on metal and shouts of angry men filled the air as they circled each other. Lachlan fought a man several feet away, and Niall’s gaze shifted briefly to take in the scene. He started to laugh.
The unexpected mirth caught Alan by surprise, and chills ran down his back.
“Hamish willnae get his way after all. Once he learns the Camerons live, he will kill the wench.” Those words knocked the breath from Alan’s lungs.
Niall pulled back and swung at Alan. He had been so lost in worry that he almost didn’t dodge the blow in time. Pulling up his claymore, he waited for the next strike.
“Hamish said we could trust ye, but I was right. Ye do care for the lass.”
“Aye, and if she is harmed, hell will reign down on all of ye.” It would not just be him but all the Camerons who would avenge her.
He swung from the side, but Niall deflected the strike and metal clanged, eliciting an ear-piercing screech as the weapons scraped together.
“Y
e ken when he tortures and kills her, it will be on ye. He’ll have no use for her if her brothers live.” Niall swung this time. Metal clanged again.
“I will find them, and if he’s touched her, he’ll die.”
“Ye dinnae even ken where they are,” Niall sneered. “How will ye save the bonny lass? Especially when he discovers she’s no good to him. She’ll be dead before ye get to her.”
Alan lunged and missed as Niall swerved to the side. Alan almost lost his footing. Get it together, he told himself. If he died, he wouldn’t be able to save her.
“Unless he keeps her locked away until his next attempt is successful.” Niall smirked at him. “’Tis probably what he will do. He prefers torture to murder.”
This time, Alan didn’t rush. He pulled the sword flush in front of him and swung down. Clang. He withdrew and struck again. Clang. Niall took a step back as Alan continued his assault. Clang.
“He willnae touch her.” Alan’s sword came down on Niall’s, and the man’s weapon went flying. The force of the jolt knocked Alan’s from his grasp, and it slipped to the ground.
They stood face-to-face, evenly matched, Niall close to his size and weight. The Campbell man pulled back and threw the first punch. Alan ducked to the side and missed the impact. He jabbed Niall in the ribs as he came up. The man grunted and winced but wasted no time in throwing the next fist. It landed on his cheek, and he had to shake it off.
Niall lunged at his chest with such force that they both tumbled backward with Niall landing on top. Struggling, Niall got in another punch.
Alan pulled back and then pushed with as much force as he could from his position. It was enough to knock Niall to the side, so he rolled away and jumped up. Niall recovered quickly and withdrew a knife from somewhere.
Highland Temptation (Highland Pride) Page 18
