She didn’t say goodbye or even watch Gavin leave. She was too intent on staring at Callum. And he at her. He looked grave but determined, as if he faced a heavy task. Stopping at the other side of the fire near Aristotle, he tied the mare’s reins to his stallion’s, then circled the fire and crouched in front of her.
“The horse is yours, Maggie, and the supplies. I willna stop you if you decide to leave, but I will send a guard with you—five men. They will see you safely to your brother.”
Instead of feeling grateful, disappointment crashed through her. What was wrong with her? She pinned a smile on her face, hoping he read it as a sign of thanks. She opened her mouth to tell him she’d leave immediately, but he waylaid her with a raised hand.
“Nay, I have more to say. Let me finish, please.”
She closed her mouth and nodded. Her heart beat faster. That flutter returned in her chest. When he grasped her hand and held it in his, palm to palm, her throat tightened.
“Maggie, when I left you before, I meant to return in the spring. ’Twas my true intent to marry you, I swear it. I could hardly wait to make you my wife. But…things changed after my father died that winter. I kept thinking I would fix it by the next spring or next summer, until suddenly, three years had passed and I’d barely written, let alone come to see you.”
“Why didn’t you come?” She had to squeeze the words past the lump in her throat.
“I knew I wouldnae be able to leave if I did.”
She frowned, her anger boiling up all over again. “And why would you want to? I was of age.”
“’Twas not the right time.”
“And now is? When I’ve decided to leave? When I no longer trust you?”
“’Tis not ideal, I know—”
“Aye, you have that right.”
He clenched his jaw, and his chest rose as he breathed deeply. “We both have secrets. You don’t want to talk about yours, and I canna talk about mine. Not yet. I’m sorry, lass. But…if you can, I’d ask you to put that behind you. I told you I’d help you get to Edinburgh, to wherever John is, but there’s another option. I doona want you to leave. Father Lundie is riding with me. He’ll marry us, Maggie. Now.”
She gasped. Married? Now? “But…but…”
He lifted her hand and squeezed tight. “Stop thinking of the past and everything that stands in our way. Just think of the present. With me. You’re frightened of something, and this will give you protection. Not just mine, but my foster brothers’ and Gregor MacLeod’s too. We’ll help you with Ross and whatever else it is you’re running from.”
“So you’ll marry me to protect me? That’s all?”
“Nay. I’ll marry you because I want you. As my wife, as my lover, as the mother of my children. I will create a safe and happy home for you. You doona need to leave the Highlands, and I promise ne’er to leave you again.”
She stared at him, barely able to catch her breath. Then he wrapped a strong hand around the nape of her neck under her hair and pulled her toward him. “Please,” he said before pressing his lips to hers.
They’d kissed before, and she’d never forgotten the feel of him against her mouth. But the reality of him was so much better than her memories.
His lips were soft, warm. He didn’t push or thrust his tongue inside; instead, he gently caressed it against the seam of her mouth. She shivered, a gasp echoing through her and parting her lips. He waited a moment, as if to make sure she wouldn’t shove him away, then stroked through the opening just far enough to touch her tongue, to play lazily against it.
She felt scorched from the inside at the contact. Heat built heavily between her legs and in her breasts. She wanted his hands on her, squeezing, like he’d done before.
She’d only just leaned into him, needing contact down the length of her, when a shrill whistle sounded in the distance—or it seemed far away to her passion-drugged body.
“Callum!” Gavin yelled just as Callum set her away from him and stood up.
She blinked and looked around to see the men, including Gavin, running for their horses, weapons drawn. Then Callum grabbed her hand, tugged her up and over to the other side of the fire where their horses stood together. Aristotle had his ears forward and eyes on Gavin. The mare stamped and whinnied nervously at all the sudden noise and activity.
“Someone’s coming?” she asked, her breath coming in short bursts.
“Aye,” Callum said as he practically tossed her on the mare before mounting his horse. “A lot of someones. Do you have your daggers?”
“I always have my daggers.”
“Of course you do. Smart lass.”
“Callum, if they’re MacDonnells, doona trust them. They’ve come for me, and if I have to go—”
“You’re not going with them.”
She didn’t answer, wishing it were that simple. He tugged her mount closer and looked directly into her eyes.
“You are not going with them, Maggie. If you do, we all go. Gavin and I are lairds of strong clans, allied to even stronger clans. If Ross thinks—”
“’Tis not Ross coming for me. It’s Irvin,” she blurted out.
He frowned. “Your mother’s cousin?”
“Aye, and Eleanor’s brother.”
“I remember. I did not like the way he watched you at Ross’s wedding. He’s sly.”
“Like a fox.”
He squeezed her hand, a muscle jumping in his cheek. “And I left you there with him all this time. I’m so sorry.”
She squeezed back. Fear for him tightened her throat. “I doona want you hurt. If anyone’s going to put a dagger in your heart, it’ll be me.”
He puffed out a laugh. “I’d welcome it.”
“Nay, you wouldnae. If I were mad enough to stab you, I’d make it hurt.”
Gavin charged up on his stallion. “They’re coming. Fifty or more men on horses. What did you do, lass?” he asked her. “Steal your clan’s jewels?”
Callum lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. “She is the clan jewel.”
Four
They rode to the tree line, about half the men out front, half hidden so the enemy wouldn’t have a clear count of their number. The MacDonnells could still surround them, but it would be a more difficult fight in the forest. Callum had sent Gill up a tree for additional coverage, if it came to that.
Maggie didn’t intend to let it come to that. Surely Irvin wouldn’t be so addled as to start a war with Callum and his allies? Attacking them meant attacking Darach, Lachlan, Kerr, and Gregor. Six clans against one.
She expected treachery and cunning plots from Irvin—not outright war.
“Callum,” she said.
“Aye, lass.”
“If anything should happen—”
“Nothing’s going to happen. Not now, anyway.”
“Aye, but if it does, you need to know that Irvin has a spy in your clan. Someone he called ‘a friend.’”
Callum turned to her. “He told you this?”
“Nay. I’ve been spying on him for the last two months.” She reached inside her arisaid—what was left of it anyway, Callum’s plaid belted over the top—and pulled out a sheaf of crumpled parchments. She handed it to him. “’Twas only last week I learned he’d infiltrated your clan. I wrote down everything I heard, but ’tis complex, and I canna sort it all out. I want you to keep it.”
He scanned the pages, disbelief etched on his face. “Does Ross know about this?”
“I’ve told him, aye, but he’s too far gone to do anything about it.”
Finally, he lowered the parchments and raised his eyes to hers. “Maggie, why didn’t you come to me sooner?”
Her throat tightened, and she swallowed to loosen it. “You broke your promise, Callum.”
He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it. When he finally s
poke, she knew he was choosing his words carefully.
“Aye, lass, I did. And I’m sorry. But you need my help now, and in this, I need you to trust me. I will keep you safe, and the rest of us too.”
She pressed her lips together, knowing he spoke the truth but not liking it. “I’ll trust you for today. And if you get us out of this, Callum…all will be forgiven between you and me. But I still willna marry you.”
He stared at her, then tucked the papers into his plaid and nodded. Once.
The pounding of horses’ hooves reached her ears, and moments later, a large number of MacDonnells rode into the glen—at least fifty strong, exactly as Gavin had said. Riding in front was Ross’s second-in-command, Alpin. He was a good leader and strong warrior, but he belonged to Irvin. She’d heard Irvin and Blàr talking about it. Laughing. Alpin’s daughter was sick and was dependent on medicine that only Irvin had access to. If Alpin didn’t do as Irvin asked, Irvin would withhold the life-giving herbs.
She felt terrible for Alpin, but there was no way she could ever trust him. He had too much at stake.
She searched for Blàr but didn’t see him, and again wondered if he’d delivered the letter to Callum. From the way Callum was behaving, she didn’t think so. It had been a shock to see him, and a jolt to her senses—especially during that kiss. Her lips still tingled and her body still hummed, even though her heart pounded at their present danger.
The advancing MacDonnells stopped on Alpin’s command, and he rode forward alone, eyes widening when he saw Callum and Gavin on either side of her. He scanned the trees, looking for more men and any archers, no doubt.
Reining in his horse about twenty paces away, he returned his gaze to her. “You gave us all a scare, lass. We’ve been searching for you.”
“I’m sure you have, Alpin, but as you can see, I’m in safe hands.”
He nodded to Callum and Gavin. “Laird MacLean, Laird MacKinnon.”
Callum reached out and stroked a hand down Maggie’s hair, letting his palm rest on the small of her back. “Good day to you, Alpin. I appreciate you searching for my betrothed, but as you can see, she’s safe with us.”
Alpin shifted his eyes to Maggie. She could almost see his mind sorting through all his options. This was not a complication he’d prepared for.
“Your brother has been indisposed, lass,” he said. “He hasn’t risen from his bed for several days. ’Tis your cousin Irvin who sent us to look for you. He’s concerned for your welfare.”
“You can report that you’ve found her,” Callum said. “And tell him Gregor MacLeod has asked after Ross. We’ve been told he’s inconsolable since losing Eleanor and the bairn. Gregor understands his grief, having gone through it himself, and has taken a personal interest in Ross’s well-being…and that of your clan, of course. I understand he may come for a visit soon.”
Gavin smiled—more a baring of teeth, really. “Aye, all the lads are planning a visit—Lairds MacKenzie, MacKay, and MacAlister. We were recently together at Clan MacPherson. Perhaps you heard that Lachlan MacKay married the MacPherson healer?”
“I did,” Alpin said. “Please offer our congratulations.”
“’Twas a lovely wedding,” Gavin continued. “Of course, we weren’t there only for his nuptials. Lachlan had to kill the MacPherson laird as well.”
Silence lay thick in the air. Finally, Alpin cleared his throat. “I heard he was a blackheart.”
“Aye,” Callum said. “He used deceit and treachery to kill the true laird and take over the clan. Lachlan dispensed justice that day. ’Tis what all of us would have done.”
Maggie knew what they were doing—reminding Alpin of their allies, of their dedication to seeing justice done, and of their ruthlessness when needed. She almost felt sorry for the man.
His gaze shifted to her. “My lady, Irvin has requested that I return you to the castle. He wants to make certain you’re well—with his own eyes.” He raised his hands in almost a pleading gesture. “He has charged me with this task, and I canna fail him…you understand.”
Aye, she understood. If Alpin didn’t bring her back, Irvin would let Alpin’s daughter die. He was a desperate man backed into a corner. He would attack, and while the battle would be hard won, the sheer number of his men would eventually overrun Callum’s and Gavin’s forces. Everyone would have to die, including Father Lundie, to keep the slaughter a secret.
Except her, of course. Irvin had other plans for her.
Callum’s hand tightened on her spine. She looked at him, and he must have seen in her eyes that she intended to go with them. “Nay,” he said softly.
“They will attack. He has no choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
“If he doesn’t do as Irvin asks, his child will die. I doona wish that on anyone. He isna a bad man. Just…trapped.”
“I willna allow you to go back alone.”
“But, Callum—”
“Nay. Whether you accept it or not, lass, we are betrothed. Where you go, I go. I willna leave you to suffer alone again.” He looked across her to Gavin. “Are we agreed?”
“Agreed,” Gavin said. He shifted his hand behind his thigh, and his fingers touched his palm in an odd way. A signal to his men behind them?
She wondered what he’d said, wanted to turn around and see if there was any activity; instead, she held herself still and listened for movement…but all she heard was the babbling of the brook and horses shuffling.
“Father Lundie,” Callum called out.
She did turn her head this time, and when the priest crawled out from the supply wagon where he’d been hiding, Alpin gasped in dismay. Aye, so he knew of Irvin’s plans to marry her.
The priest straightened his brown robe and stepped forward. “Laird?”
“Will you accompany us to Clan MacDonnell?”
Maggie gritted her teeth at his words even as relief flooded through her, knowing she wouldn’t be returning to the castle alone. She just prayed it didn’t result in their deaths.
Alpin frowned and opened his mouth to protest, but she waylaid him. “Aye, Father, it would please me greatly if you would come. My brother could use some spiritual counsel to help ease his mind and soul. He is heartsick, and our priest died several years ago. He hasn’t been replaced.”
Father Lundie nodded gravely. “I will accompany you, lass. Perhaps through God’s grace, I can bring your brother some peace.”
“And Maggie has expressed the desire to be wed in front of her brother as well.” Callum raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it, a smile on his lips. But when his eyes met hers, they glinted with determination. “Haven’t you, love?”
She wanted to scowl at him but had enough control to keep up the ruse. Were those her only options? Married to Irvin or married to Callum? It was not a difficult choice, but it was one she didn’t wish to make.
“I doona think that’s a good idea, lass,” Alpin said.
She gazed at Alpin, her hands on her daggers. “Well now, ’tis not for you to say, is it, Alpin? Or my cousin. The marriage contract between Laird MacLean and myself has been in place for eleven years. We’ve waited long enough. We will go with you, all of us, including Father Lundie, or we doona go at all. Those are my terms.”
He looked grim, and he ran an agitated hand over the nape of his neck. Finally, he nodded.
Callum whistled to his men. They moved as one into the glen on their horses. A warrior stopped to lift Father Lundie onto the back of his mount. It looked like they would leave the supply wagon behind.
Maggie counted their men—they were three short. Where had the others been sent? Perhaps to Gregor and the other foster brothers with messages to hurry.
“Stay next to me the entire way,” Callum said softly to her.
Gavin rode on Maggie’s other side, and the remaining MacLeans and MacKinnons
positioned themselves in front and behind them, Drustan taking point. It was little protection, but it at least afforded them some privacy. Maggie could talk to the two lairds without being overheard.
They should reach MacDonnell castle by late afternoon, just in time for Ross to be thirsting for his cups. He wouldn’t usually rise until noon and would start the day with watered-down wine that quickly progressed to mead, then whisky. It was a pitiful existence, especially as he used to be such a strong, virile man—quick to laugh and as big as a bear.
She hated for Gavin and Callum to see him like this. There had been a time when he’d bested them both at games like the hammer throw and tossing the caber. It had taken Callum and two of his foster brothers together to beat Ross on the tug-of-war.
The heartache she tried so hard to contain beat at her, and she lowered her head.
Callum sidled up to her and reached for her hand. She hesitated, then reached for his too, and he twined their fingers together. “All will be well, lass,” he said. “I promise we’ll get you out of there safely. Irvin willna act immediately, and before he does, Gregor and my foster brothers will be knocking at his portcullis. It’ll be four days at the most before one of them arrives. Surely Ross can hold it together for that long—for your sake and the sake of his clan.”
“Ross canna hold it together for five minutes. Eleanor was his reason for living. He’s killing himself over her and their lost bairn.”
Gavin grunted and ran his hand over his bristly hair. “If we canna rely on Ross, then we have to rely on ourselves. You’ll need to best Irvin at his games, Callum.”
“Be as sly as him?”
“Aye. You’re far more capable of figuring out puzzles and finding answers than the rest of us.”
Callum sighed, and she heard the frustration behind it. “Most of the time.”
“That’s a puzzle we’ll sort out too,” Gavin said.
She wondered what they were talking about and was about to ask, but the concentration on Callum’s face deepened, and she held her questions for another time. He still clasped her hand, and his fingers tapped her knuckles as his mind worked on the problem. “Irvin wants to be laird, and he wants to marry you. You would refuse, obviously, so he would have to hold something over your head. Ross?”
Highland Betrayal Page 4
