The Bowie Bride: Book Two of The Mackintoshes and McLarens

by Suzan Tisdale

  Hopefully, there would be time for mourning later. And revenge.

  Alec’s thoughts turned to Leona. What would happen to her should he die this day? Would she stay on or go back to Ian Mackintosh? The thought of her all alone in the world sickened him. And what if she were already with child? ’Twas quite possible she was, though ’twas too soon to tell just yet.

  The thought of Leona alone in this world, carrying his child, strengthened his resolve. I will get back to ye, Leona, come hell or high water.

  It had taken very little effort on Leona’s part, to convince Adhaira to either find the clothes Alec had hidden, or find something else she could wear. The girl was gone so long, Leona was rummaging through Alec’s clothes to find something suitable.

  Thankfully, Adhaira did return, and with Patrice. Proudly, Adhaira told her, “I promised Gylys I’d make him sweet cakes for the next fortnight if he would tell me where yer trunk was.”

  Leona didn’t care if she had promised to marry him, as long as she could get dressed. “Thank ye, Adhaira!” she exclaimed as she took the dresses and chemises out of her arms.

  “What be goin’ on?” Patrice asked. “Why did Alec take yer clothes?”

  Leona quickly explained the why of it as she slipped out of her nightdress and into her chemise.

  “Daft men,” Patrice murmured. “I would be fit to be tied were I married and my husband had done that to me!”

  “Speaking of my daft husband,” Leona said as she stepped into her blue gown. “Has anyone seen him?”

  “I have not seen him since around noon time, when that bandogge of his came into the kitchen,” Adhaira told her.

  “And I have not seen him since last I was here,” Patrice added.

  ’Twas mightily peculiar. Leona knew something was afoot. But what?

  “And ye have no heard anyone whisperin’ of his disappearance?” Leona asked as she tied the laces on her dress.

  Patrice and Adhaira looked to each other with confusion. “Nay, no’ a word,” Adhaira said. “But I keep to the kitchens.”

  “And I have only just arrived,” Patrice pointed out. “Do ye think something be wrong?”

  “Aye, I do,” Leona replied. She grabbed woolens from her bed. “Did ye find me boots?” she asked Adhaira.

  “Ye asked fer dresses, no’ boots,” she told her. “But I’ll get them.” She hurried from the room in a rush.

  “What on earth is going on?” Patrice asked. “Yer husband takes yer clothes then disappears?”

  Leona tied the laces of her woolens. “He took those the other day. I do no’ think that has anything to do with him disappearing.”

  “Ye truly think something be wrong?”

  “Aye, I do!” she exclaimed. She explained how Alec was supposed to have had lunch with her then take her for a walk afterward. “That was hours ago. And I can tell ye that Gylys and Kyth have been huddled together for the past hour or two, whisperin’ over somethin’. Aye, somethin’ be wrong. I can feel it in me bones.”

  The arrow came from behind.

  There had been no time to move. The arrow pierced Alec’s right arm, his sword arm.

  Who the bloody hell is trying to kill me? He screamed silently.

  Too stunned to think of anything but fleeing to safety, Alec jumped from his hiding spot and onto Ares’s back. In a flash he was off and running again, in a hail of arrows.

  ’Twas difficult to navigate over the uneven terrain. He kept his head down, low over Ares’s back, and he weaved through the thick trees and brush. With his heart pounding and blood rushing in his ears, he tried to think of his next plan of action. If he had only brought his own arrows and bow!

  Ducking under low lying branches, tearing through brambles and bushes, he tried to find his way out of the forest. Though ’twas not a forest he was used to visiting, he was certain he was still on his own lands.

  Where were his warriors who patrolled this part of his lands?

  Finally, the landscape leveled off again. Still hilly, ’twas not nearly as treacherous as he had left behind. Kicking Ares into a full run, he continued west, hoping to veer south at some point so that he might come across one of his border patrol warriors. Or, God willing, back to his keep.

  “Mistress!” Gylys called out to Leona as she bounded down the stairs. Patrice and Adhaira were right behind her. “Ye’re no’ supposed to be out of yer room.”

  As if she didn’t know that. “Thank ye for stating the obvious, Gylys,” she said as she headed toward the foyer. Patrice and Adhaira were acting as supporters, and if necessary, they’d provide interference should anyone try to stop her.

  Gylys was right behind them. “Mistress!” he called out. “Ye’re no’ supposed to leave the keep!”

  “Again, Gylys, your talent fer statin’ the obvious is profound.”

  Out the door and down the stairs Leona went. It would be another hour or two before nightfall. Hopefully she would find her husband before then.

  “Mistress!” Gylys called out.

  Leona noted the tone of uncertainty in the man’s voice. She stopped and turned to face him. “If ye even think to stop me, Gylys, I shall tell me husband ye were starin’ at me earlier, when I wore nothin’ but me nightdress.”

  He stopped his forward progression and stared at her with wide eyes. “But I did no’ such thing!”

  ’Twas a threat she’d not keep, but he did not need to know that. Leona looked around the courtyard. ’Twas was busy, far busier than was ordinary. “Where be my husband?” she asked him. Her words were clipped, her tone firm.

  “Yer husband be fine, mistress. Now please, go back to yer room. I am certain he will be home soon.”

  Before she could offer a terse reply, she saw Kyth racing across the yard. He was coming from the stables. “Mistress?” he asked. “Ye’re supposed to be abed.”

  These men were driving her mad. Doing her best to keep her temper in check — lest she do something she might later regret — Leona took in a deep, cleansing breath. “Kyth, do ye ken where my husband be?”

  There it was. That same knowing, conspiratorial glance the two men had shared earlier when she asked the same question.

  “I be certain Alec is fine. Ye need no’ worry,” Kyth told her.

  And there was the same answer, if one could even call it that.

  “’Tis a wife’s duty to worry over her husband,” Patrice told him. She looked just as angry as Leona. “Now, if the two of ye do no’ explain to yer mistress what the bloody hell is goin’ on, I shan’t hold her back when she starts beatin’ ye senseless.”

  Leona had already possessed a fondness for Patrice. Considered her a dear friend. But now? Now she absolutely adored the woman.

  Adhaira stepped forward, nodding her head. “And I shall give her the heaviest pot in the kitchens to beat ye with!”

  Finally! For the first time in a very long while she did not feel quite so alone.

  “Lads, I be no’ as naive or dimwitted as ye might think,” Leona told them. “I have noticed the absence of me husband. I have also noticed that there be men comin’ inside the walls. And I can also see the men comin’ out of the armory, wearin’ their chainmail and battle vestments. Pray, tell me if the two are no’ connected?”

  Kyth let out a heavy sigh. Gylys ran a hand across his stubbled jaw.

  “Alec went fer a ride, around noonin’ time. Derrick and Fergus followed,” Kyth explained. “Now, I be no’ sayin’ anythin’ be wrong, but we did expect them back by now.”

  Her heart plunged to her feet and bounced up again. “I have only been married to Alec a little over a month now. Still, I can no’ help but think this is no’ his usual behavior.”

  Gylys shook his head. “Nay, mistress, it be no’.”

  “But Alec is quite capable of takin’ care of himself,” Kyth added. “As are Derrick and Fergus.”

  “Aye,” Gylys agreed. “Now, if ye ladies would no’ mind just goin’ back into the keep?”

 
; “Are ye headin’ up a search party?” Patrice asked, ignoring the request to return to the keep.

  Kyth nodded his head. “Aye. We are goin’ to give them another hour before we head out.”

  “Because I be certain they are all fine,” Gylys added forcefully.

  Before Leona could reply, shouts came from the upper wall. Everyone turned and headed toward the main wall to see what was the matter.

  They stepped out of the secondary gate and into the larger courtyard. The gates had been opened, the drawbridge lowered.

  Leona’s mouth turned painfully dry as she watched a lone horse come racing across the drawbridge.

  Kyth ran forward to catch the reigns. Leona was frozen in place. A group of men surrounded the anxious, nervous animal. Even from where she stood, she could see blood on the saddle and trails of it down the horse’s side.

  “This be the horse Fergus rode,” Kyth declared.

  Leona felt lightheaded, almost faint. Patrice and Adhaira stood beside her for support.

  Gylys turned away from the horse to look at Leona.

  “Can I start worryin’ now?” she asked sarcastically.

  No one answered.

  Chapter 25

  ’Twas a befitting sunset: A blood-red sky, with traces of mulberry and plum, and only a hint of gold. Dark, forbidding, it seemed to Alec it might just be an omen.

  His arm pained him, the arrow still firmly lodged betwixt flesh, muscle and bone. There was nothing he could do to stop the flow of blood, for he was far too busy trying to outrun his pursuers. But if he didn’t do something soon, he knew he was going to bleed to death.

  With Ares at a full run, he crashed through a thick and tall bramble bush. Immediately, he knew he was in trouble. Just a few feet ahead, the land gave way. Before he realized what was happening, Ares was in a panic. A heartbeat later, time slowed down as he was tossed from Ares’s back, and flying through the air. Unable to hold on with his injured arm, the reins slipped from his grasp.

  Over the cliff he fell into darkness.

  It would have taken God himself coming down from the heavens to hold Leona back. Never had Kyth nor Gylys met a woman as determined and stubborn as their laird’s wife.

  There was no time for arguing with her, Kyth and Gylys knew it. Somehow, she would find a way to follow after them. So they decided ’twas best to give in to her demands that she join the search party. Aye, they knew Alec would be fit-to-be-tied when he found out they’d set her atop a horse and agreed to her going with them. That was if he was still alive.

  ’Twas Leona’s idea to use Patches to help find their laird. As far as the men were concerned, ’twas probably the best course of action and best idea anyone could have had.

  Leona had sent Adhaira above stairs for her cloak, as well as one of Alec’s tunics. None of Alec’s men were brave enough to get near the bandogge, save for Seamus. And he’d only gone so far as to release the animal, who immediately went to Leona.

  “Patches,” she rubbed the top of the dog’s head. “We need to find yer master.” She didn’t know what commands Alec might have used in order to get the dog to go after a scent. Holding the tunic under the animal’s snout, she whispered, “Please, patches, find him.”

  The dog took several sniffs, even going so far as to lick the tunic. He whimpered once, then again, before he grew eager and excited. Leona held on to his collar, afraid to let go until she knew someone would be fast on his heels. Kyth, who was mounted and standing nearby, gave a nod of his head.

  Leona released the dog, who took off like the devil was chasing him. Gylys immediately helped Leona to her mount before he took his own. Soon, more than one hundred Bowies on horseback were filing out of the courtyard and chasing after the bandogge.

  Over hill, through glen and dale, they rode fast, keeping up with the bandogge. Occasionally, the dog would pause to sniff the ground for a few moments before he picked up the scent again.

  All the while, Leona prayed. She prayed her husband was safe, that they’d find him and his men soon.

  The sun was just beginning to set when they came upon Fergus. “Mistress, look away,” Kyth told her. But it was too late. She’d already seen the poor man’s lifeless body lying on the ground.

  His corpse lay crumpled and bloody, his arms askew, one leg broken. The arrow was still lodged in his throat. His cold, dead eyes staring up at nothing.

  Bile rose in her throat, her stomach roiled with despair, sorrow, and disgust. She thought of Maisie, Fergus’ wife, and their children.

  They stopped for a moment while Kyth and a few men dismounted, looking for any evidence of what might have occurred. The other half of their team pressed forward, following Patches.

  “It looks like an ambush,” Kyth said. He was crouched low, looking at the ground filled with arrows. “Many men on horseback from the looks of it.”

  “An ambush?” she murmured.

  “Aye,” Kyth said as he tossed an arrow aside and stood up. “Were it a fair fight, Alec would be back at the keep right now, telling us the tale over a few drams of whisky.”

  Leona was glad Kyth held such a high regard toward her husband. She had never been witness to his fighting skills and would have to put her faith in Kyth’s words. Which led to her hope that Alec was still alive.

  “Who would do such a thing?” she asked, in a low, reverent tone.

  ’Twas apparent no one had the answer to that question.

  She refused to believe Alec was dead. There was a good chance he and Derrick were still alive. He had to be alive! Without him… nay, she could not allow her mind nor her heart to go there. ’Twas too painful, too gut wrenchingly painful.

  They pressed on, leaving a handful of men behind to take Fergus’ back to his unsuspecting family. Leona clung to hope like a drowning man clings to driftwood. ’Twas all she had.

  Her hope was tested a mile or two later, when they came upon Derrick’s body. He lay on his side, blood pooling all around him. The arrow that took his life protruded from his chest.

  There was no way for her to hold back her tears. She wept quietly. Made no attempt to wipe the tears away. She cried for Fergus, for Derrick, and for her husband.

  Kyth pulled their group to a halt and began to give orders. “Phillip, I want ye and twenty men to spread out. Whoever attacked our laird and friends could still be about. Find the bloody bastards. Ye may kill as many as ye wish, but find out the reason behind the attack first.”

  Phillip gave a curt nod, before pulling back and choosing the men who would follow him.

  “Do no’ give up, Mistress,” Kyth told her. “Alec be a smart man. Do no’ give up hope.”

  As much as she wanted to believe him, ’twas nearly impossible. Tears slowly fell down her cheeks as they continued riding.

  Please, God! Do no’ let me come upon him, as we did Fergus and Derrick! I fear I would want to lay down next to him and die.

  “Mistress,” Kyth’s voice broke through her quite reverie. “Ye must keep hopeful. Alec be alive, and when he sees ye next, he will ken ye thought him dead. ’Twill be his end if he thinks ye did no’ have enough faith in him.”

  She blinked away her tears, uncertain if he was simply trying to make her feel better or if he truly believed what he said. She studied him closely for a long moment, as they rode west and north. His jaw was set as he looked deep into her eyes. Aye, he believed what he said.

  “Verra well, then, Kyth,” she said as she dried her eyes and cheeks with the sleeve of her dress. “Let us go find me husband and take him home.”

  Night had fallen, a sliver of moon hidden behind heavy, dark clouds. Rain fell, lending to the depressing night.

  Someone had possessed the wherewithal to bring torches. Even with the lit torches, ’twas a painfully slow pace they kept. Soon, they came upon the rest of their search party. Patches was walking around in circles sniffing the ground, apparently trying to pick up the scent again.

  Leona shivered as the rain splattered acro
ss her face. Drawing her cloak more tightly around her, she donned her cowl. ’Twas late, cold, and rainy, but they would not give up their search for Alec. Even if it took all night, or even days.

  Mayhap the men who had attacked them had not killed Alec. Leona wondered if mayhap he hadn’t been kidnapped. Kidnapped was far better than being dead.

  Patches picked up the scent again. With his nose close to the ground, his pace was much slower than before.

  “Mistress,” Kyth called out as he trotted back toward her. “The hour grows late. Mayhap ye should go back. I can spare enough men to guard ye.”

  Leona shook her head. “Nay, Kyth. I will be fine.”

  “We have no’ heard from the scouts and the attackers could still be about,” he argued.

  “At this hour?” she asked. “If ye were worried over me safety, ye should have sent me back the moment we found poor Fergus.”

  Kyth rolled his eyes and let loose a frustrated breath. Seeing her determination to stay, he said, “Verra well. Please, stay next to me and Gylys. If anythin’ were to happen to ye, Alec would have our heads on pikes.”

  Oddly enough, his words lifted her spirits. Knowing Alec would be upset should anything happen to her made her smile. Even though she believed the real reason he wanted her to return to the keep was his fear of what they might come across.

  It became too dangerous to ride, so they had to dismount and walk their horses. Kyth cut through bracken and bramble bushes, making a path for Leona. They were almost to the edge when they heard Patches howl and bark.

  Kyth furiously worked to get them through the mess of twisted limbs and branches. Soon, they spilled out into a clearing.

  Leona nearly fell to her knees when she saw Alec’s mount, pounding the earth, ready to trample Patches. “Patches!” she called out to him. “Here! Now!”

  The dog left the horse and immediately came to stand beside her. He whimpered and fussed while Kyth went to settle Ares.