Highland Warrior

by Connie Mason

  “We’ll follow their tracks,” Ross said as he studied the signs on the soft ground in the moonlight. “ ’They canna have gotten too far.”

  They found their missing cows a few miles away. Apparently the reivers weren’t expecting to be chased and had given up their prize rather than tangle with angry MacKennas. If Niall hadn’t ridden out to check on the herd, the thieves would have escaped, and they might never have gotten their cows back.

  But that was not all Ross learned when he found the missing cows. He also found a piece of MacKay plaid caught on a nearby bush. Cursing MacKay for his trickery, Ross rode home in a rage. This treachery would not go unpunished. After he renounced his MacKay wife and returned her bag and baggage to her father, the feud would resume. So much for peace.

  Chapter Seven

  Ross dismounted in front of the keep, issued a few curt orders to Gordo, and stormed inside just as the sun rose over the nearby hills. Those unlucky enough to be in the hall when he entered scattered at the sight of his glowering features and clenched fists.

  “Tell Hanna to have food on the table in thirty minutes,” he called in passing to one of the men setting up tables for the morning repast.

  Then he stormed up the stairs to the solar and burst into the bedchamber. Stomping to the bed, he pulled the covers off of Gillian and barked, “Get up!”

  Gillian blinked awake, saw Ross standing over her, and smiled. How could she not smile after all the pleasure he’d given her? It had been a most extraordinary night, one she wasn’t likely to forget anytime soon. She stretched sinuously, recalling the erotic delight Ross evoked with his hands and mouth and other manly parts of his body.

  “Get up, Gillian,” Ross repeated in a voice that was curiously lacking in feeling or compassion.

  Gillian sat up, pulling the sheet high to cover her nakedness. “What is it, Ross? Has something happened? You look so ... so angry.”

  “Anger doesna begin to describe how I feel,” he spat. Curling his fingers around her arm, he yanked her out of bed. “Meet me in the hall in thirty minutes. Doona be late. And wear your heavy cloak; ’tis cold outside. I’ll send Alice to pack your trunk.”

  Gillian gaped at him. “Pack my trunk? Are we going somewhere?”

  “Aye, I’m taking you to Braeburn.”

  Gillian’s face lit up, and she clapped her hands. “We’re going to Braeburn for a visit? Why did you nae say so? I’ll be ready, Ross. You willna have to wait for me. It will be wonderful to see Da and my brothers again.”

  Ross sent her a strange look but said naught as he nodded curtly and retraced his steps to the hall. His mood hadn’t lightened when Gillian joined him thirty minutes later. In fact, the tension in the hall was so thick she could have cut it with a knife. Obviously something had happened that she was not privy to. From the animosity directed at her, Gillian could conclude only that the problem involved her or her clan.

  Gillian knew for certain she was the target of the hostility when a servant set a bowl of porridge in front of her instead of her usual plate of eggs.

  “What is this about, MacKenna?” Gillian demanded to know. “Why does everyone look angry at me? What have I done to deserve such animosity from your clansmen?”

  “Doona try to tell me you didna know,” Ross hissed. “Your father had this planned from the beginning.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Reivers attempted to steal our cows last night. They were MacKays. The feud has officially ended. Our herd wasna guarded as it would have been had we not agreed to a truce. A truce, ha!” Ross repeated.

  Gillian’s mouth dropped open. “Nay Da wouldna break the truce. He came to you with the peace offer, do you nae remember? Why would Da ask for a truce if he intended to break it?”

  “To catch us off guard, and he almost succeeded, but he didna get away with our cows. Thanks to Niall, we discovered your father’s treachery in time to catch up with the thieves. They left the cows and ran off like cowards when they heard us coming after them.”

  “I doona ken why you think Da did this. He promoted our marriage to cement the truce. Da wouldna betray me in such a manner.”

  “Would he not? He knew I would return you to Braeburn once the truce was broken. I was the one betrayed, by both you and the MacKay You knew this would happen—doona deny it.”

  “I admit I knew the truce wouldna last, but I thought it would be broken by a MacKenna.”

  “Finish your porridge. I canna wait to rid Ravenscraig of a viper.”

  “If I had my sword, I would run you through,” Gillian retorted.

  “We tried that once before,” Ross replied, “and it didna end well for you, if you recall.”

  “What makes you think my father broke the truce? What proof do you have that MacKays were the thieves you chased?”

  Ross reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a square of cloth. “What does this look like?”

  Gillian stared at the piece of MacKay plaid. “What does that signify?”

  “I found it caught on a bush near my stolen cows.”

  “So? It could have been there a long time. You are jumping to conclusions, MacKenna.”

  “I think not. Are you ready to leave?”

  Gillian stood and pulled her cloak over her shoulders. “Let’s go. I canna wait to see your face when Da proves you a liar.”

  Both Silver and Ross’s horse were waiting outside in the courtyard. A horse cart loaded with her trunk was pulled up beside them. A stable lad sat on the driver’s bench, waiting for directions.

  When Ross made no attempt to help Gillian into the saddle, Gordo materialized to help her. Then Ross trotted off, and Gillian urged Silver to follow. The cart lumbered into place behind them. Ross remained detached as Gillian rode beside him; he made no attempt at conversation. Gillian could tell he was fuming inside, and that most of his anger was directed at her.

  Gillian was relieved when, several hours later, she saw Braeburn’s tower rising up through the frosty mist swirling over the moors. She was chilled to the bone and couldn’t wait to feel the warmth of her father’s hearth.

  The gate was open, and they rode through.

  “Would the gate be open if a MacKay had broken the truce?” Gillian taunted. Ross glared at her but said naught. “Nay, the gate would be closed for fear of retaliation.”

  They reined in before the keep. A lad ran up to take their reins. Gillian slid off Silver without Ross’s help and mounted the stairs. She charged into the hall with Ross hard on her heels.

  Tearlach MacKay turned at the sound, a welcoming smile curving his lips. “Daughter, ’tis glad I am to see you.” He held out his arms, and Gillian ran into them.

  “Oh, Da, I have missed you,” Gillian said into the burly expanse of his chest.

  Tearlach held her away from him, his face a mask of concern. “What is it, lass?” He slanted a hard look at Ross. “What have you done to her, MacKenna?”

  “I’ve done naught but bring your daughter home to her treacherous father,” Ross bit out. “You broke the truce, MacKay I no longer want any MacKay under my roof, so I’ve brought the viper back to you.”

  “The devil you say!” MacKay roared. “I didna break the truce. What makes you think I did?”

  “Reivers attempted to steal my cows last night. We chased them off before they could disappear into the hills with my livestock.”

  “What has that got to do with me? I pledged an end to the feud in good faith. Neither I nor any of my men would break that truce once the pledge was given.”

  Ross reached into his pocket and retrieved the square of plaid. “I found this on a bush near my cows. ”Tis the MacKenna plaid, is it not?”

  Tearlach examined the plaid closely. “Aye, what of it?”

  “What of it!” Ross spat. “ ’Tis as clear as day. You or one of yours raided my herd last night.”

  “What’s amiss, Da?”

  Gillian spun around at the sound of her brother Murdoc’s voice.
Both he and Nab had just entered the hall. “Lads, the MacKenna has accused the MacKays of breaking the truce.”

  “What nonsense is this, MacKenna?” Murdoc chal lenged. “We gave our word. Why would we break the truce when we are planning a celebration? I am to be wed in three days. We were going to have an invitation carried to you today.”

  “You’re getting married, Murdoc?” Gillian exclaimed. “That’s wonderful! We all love Mary.”

  Murdoc grinned. “Not as much as I do.”

  “All this talk of weddings doesna solve the problem at hand,” Ross charged. “Someone tried to steal our cows. If it wasna you, then who was it?”

  “I doona know,” Tearlach said.

  “I doona believe you,” Ross spat. “The proof is in the plaid I hold in my hand.”

  Murdoc picked up the piece of plaid and held it up.

  “This wee bit of cloth—is that all the proof you have?”

  “ ’Tis enough.”

  Murdoc rubbed the material between his thumb and forefinger and handed it to Nab to inspect. “Bah, our weavers didna weave this flimsy stuff,” Nab claimed.

  Gillian snatched the square of cloth from Nab’s fingers and gave it a more thorough examination. “Nab is right,” she concurred. “ ’This didna come from our looms.” She threw it into Ross’s face. “So much for your proof, MacKenna. If you will excuse me, I’m going up to my chamber. Please have my trunk carried up as soon as it is brought in.”

  All three men watched Gillian walk off. Once she was out of sight, Tearlach gave Ross an ungentle shove. “You’ve gone and done it now, MacKenna. Gillian isna one to forgive and forget.”

  “So I’ve noticed,” Ross said dryly.

  “Come sit by the fire. We need to talk,” Tearlach invited.

  “Verra well, but I’m still not convinced your clansmen didna raid my land.”

  Tearlach turned to his sons. “Look into it, lads, while MacKenna and I chat. Question everyone, those who left the keep last night and those in the village with access to horses.”

  “I doona trust the word of a MacKay,” Ross growled.

  “You are trying my patience, son-in-law Now then, what did you expect to gain by returning Gillian to Braeburn?”

  “I canna abide betrayal.”

  “And you think my Gillian betrayed you.”

  “It crossed my mind,” Ross bit out. “’The raid could have been planned well before our marriage, in which case Gillian would have had knowledge of it.”

  “You are wrong, dead wrong. Do you think I would give my daughter to you, knowing you might harm her if I were behind the raid? Nay, make no mistake: I love my lass well, MacKenna. I also ken how she thinks. I wish you luck in making your apology to her.”

  “Do you swear you werena behind the raid?” Ross asked, searching Tearlach’s eyes for a hint of truth.

  “I swear on the grave of my Maudie, Gillian’s mother. I didna break the truce. And I am willing to speak for my sons and kinsmen.”

  Ross slumped against the back of his chair. “Who else would dare such a thing?”

  “I doona know. But as long as you and Gillian are here, you may as well stay for the wedding. We can try to solve the mystery together during the festivities. Besides, Gillian needs time to cool off. She may not want to return to Ravenscraig with you. You werena kind to the lass, MacKenna.”

  “I didna hurt her,” Ross said.

  “Mayhap not physically.” Tearlach sighed heavily. “Ah, well, Gillian is your problem, lad. I’m sure you’ll find a way to get back in her good graces.”

  Tearlach waved a servant over and ordered whiskey for him and his guest. When it arrived, Tearlach tossed it back neat while Ross sipped his, a thoughtful look on his face as he contemplated this latest turn of events. If MacKay wasn’t behind the raid, who was? Who wanted the truce broken? Ross expressed his thoughts to Tearlach.

  Tearlach shook his head. “I doona ken, lad. My clansmen and allies are aware that the feud ended with the wedding between you and Gillian. Everyone agreed to honor the truce.”

  “Everyone except Angus Sinclair, I’d wager.”

  “Ah, well, Angus,” Tearlach said. “He could have had Gillian if he’d spoken up sooner. While we always assumed Sinclair and Gillian would wed, no formal declaration had been made nor betrothal papers signed.” He shrugged expansively. “Sinclair declared himself too late.”

  Ross asked the question he had been dreading: “Did Gillian love Sinclair?”

  “We both ken that women are capricious creatures, lad. They are in love with the word love. I suppose she fancied herself enamored of Sinclair.”

  “I found them together on the moors one day. I doona know if the meeting had been prearranged or not, but Sinclair was trying to convince Gillian to run off with him.”

  Tearlach’s shaggy brows shot upward. “But she didna, did she? That should tell you something.”

  Ross’s voice hardened. “It told me that I arrived in time to prevent Gillian from leaving with Sinclair.”

  “Are you dissatisfied with your marriage, MacKenna? I know Gillian can be a handful, but...”

  Ross gave a rueful laugh. “Handful? Is that what you call her?” He sobered, sipped his whiskey, and considered MacKay’s original question. Was he really dissatisfied with his marriage?

  In bed, he and Gillian were equals. She responded enthusiastically to his lovemaking and followed no matter where he led. She was his flame, beautiful, spirited, and bright. Thus far he had been able to avoid being consumed by her fiery spirit. Unfortunately, taming her was going to take a great deal more time and effort.

  “I canna truthfully say I am dissatisfied with the marriage,” Ross admitted.“ ’Twould help if Gillian wasna so prickly. She seems to resent me and my kinsmen. She is verra slow to put aside the feud.”

  “Ah, well, there is naught I can do about her attitude; her behavior is no longer my concern. You are her husband; she is your problem now.”

  Ross sought to change the subject. His headstrong wife wasn’t his only problem. “The Sinclairs are your allies. Is there a reason the Sinclair chieftain would want the truce broken? Gillian is no longer available. You ken the raiders tried to make it look like the MacKays broke the truce, do you nae?”

  “Aye, I ken and I doona like it. But I canna lay the blame on Sinclair without proof. If he is behind the raid, I doona ken why.”

  “Without a confession, we have no proof,” Ross said sourly. He tossed back the rest of his whiskey and rose.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Home.”

  “I hoped you and Gillian would stay for Murdoc’s wedding.”

  “We’ll be back in plenty of time for the ceremony. We are nae properly dressed for a wedding.”

  “Aye, well, if you say so. The wedding will commence in three days at the hour of sext. Plan to stay the night or longer, if you wish.”

  “Verra well. I’ll go fetch Gillian.”

  “Her chamber is on the second floor, first door on the right. Good luck,” Tearlach ventured, chuckling to himself.

  Ross found Gillian’s chamber easily enough, but when he tried the latch, he discovered the door locked against him. “Gillian, open the door.”

  “Go away, MacKenna.”

  “I’m ready to leave, Gillian, and you’re coming with me. I am satisfied that your father had naught to do with the theft of my cows.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you, MacKenna.”

  “Gillian, be reasonable.”

  “How can I be reasonable when you dragged me out of bed, called me a viper, and accused me of betraying you? I am where I belong. Go away and leave me alone.”

  “You are my wife, Gillian.”

  “To my everlasting regret,” Gillian shot back.

  “Open the door!” Ross ordered. “I doona enjoy talking to a piece of wood.”

  “And I doona enjoy talking to an arrogant wretch who calls himself a warrior.”

  “I am a
warrior!” Ross thundered.

  The door opened. A fuming Gillian stood on the threshold, wearing braies and wielding a sword. “Prove it,” she spat. “Prove you are a warrior,” she demanded, raising her sword in a challenge.

  Once Ross’s anger subsided, he attempted a conciliatory manner. “You ken I doona fight women, do you nae?”

  “I ken, but I intend to change your mind. If I win, you will return to Ravenscraig alone and I will live out the rest of my days at Braeburn. If you win, I will accompany you to Ravenscraig peaceably.”

  “Put down the sword, lass. You ken you canna win. Your brother is taking a wife soon. There will be no place for you in the keep; you will become a burden to your family.”

  “This is my home. There will always be a place here for me. Besides, you doona trust me, and your kinsmen hate me. I prefer to remain where I am loved and trusted.”

  She thrust her sword forward, forcing Ross to back up. “You forget one thing, Gillian. We are married. I can force you to return to Ravenscraig and neither your father nor brothers would dare say me nay.”

  “Take up your sword, MacKenna. Doona be a coward. Fight me for my right to direct my own fate.”

  “I promised your father I wouldna harm you. If I take up a sword against you, you would lose the battle and mayhap die. Is that what you want, wife?”

  “What I want is to be treated with respect and dignity. There is naught between us but mistrust.”

  A slow grin curved Ross’s lips. “You are wrong, lass. We are good together in bed. Have I not proved that to you?”

  The sword wavered in Gillian’s hands but did not lower. Ross thought she looked adorably distraught. He did not doubt, however, that she would run him through if he continued to provoke her. But would she actually aim to kill? He rather doubted it, but wasn’t willing to take that chance. He waited for the opportunity to disarm her without hurting her. As for drawing his sword against her, he simply wouldn’t do it.

  “Doona treat me like a frail female, MacKenna, for it willna work.”