Highlander Medieval 06 - Her Highland Hero

by Terry Spear

Marcus removed Isobel’s clothes, admired her beauty, wishing again that she had not fallen asleep, then doused the candles, and climbed into bed. Isobel immediately curled up against him. He loved the intimacy between them, her soft, warm, naked body pressed against his. In the short time they’d been together, he couldn’t imagine them ever being apart again.

  Was she awake enough to want him to make love to her? He was ready.

  “Lass…”

  “I have been thinking,” she said sleepily against his chest.

  He sighed and caressed her hair. She was not thinking of what he was thinking of, he was certain.

  “Aye, lass.” He knew what it was about, too. Once he had safely escorted her here, he had been going over in his mind all that had happened before—who could have ambushed them. The same man? Or were two different ones involved?

  “The night of the dance, my father gave the order to Lord Wynfield to have him send you away.” She caressed his chest with her fingertips, which was not conducive to his thinking about them being waylaid.

  “Aye. What if Lord Wynfield had it in mind that, since he was one of your suitors, he would have me eliminated because he knew you wished to wed me and no other man? Even if your da had made you marry him, you would have resented Lord Wynfield and still loved me. Unless I was dead.”

  “I still would have loved you with all my heart until the end of my days.”

  “Aye, lass, and I you.”

  “There is a problem with that notion. He was not one of my suitors when you left that night. I spoke with my father after you were gone and it was not until he told me that Lord Fenton had asked to court me and I explained to him about the past, that my father took him off the list. Then he said he would add Lord Wynfield. But the baron would not have known that right away.”

  “True. And Lord Fenton could not have known your da had decided against him courting you either, not for some time.”

  “Aye.”

  “Why did Lord Wynfield wait ten days before he sent you from Torrent Castle to stay with King Henry’s court?” Marcus asked. “Why that day? Not earlier? Or later? What was the delay? Your da said he would never have sent you there. So why did Lord Wynfield believe you would be safer there?”

  “Who would have known I was leaving?”

  “Your staff.”

  “Aye.”

  “They could have talked to someone in the village and the word was spread to someone else. Someone who made arrangements to kill your escort.”

  “But if one of my suitors had thought to do that then how could he have convinced me to marry him?”

  “He wouldna have been with his men. Just like he wasna with those who attempted to murder me. What if he was trying to stop you from going to King Henry’s court?”

  “Because he would suspect King Henry would choose a husband for me and my suitor would not have a chance.”

  “Aye. If your escort was murdered, you would be forced to return to the castle. You were only an hour’s ride from there. He most likely would have believed you would have done so, not run off in a different direction. His men would have left you alone then, but secretly ensured your safety as you traveled back to the keep.”

  “Except that you arrived instead and killed off his men. Too bad he had not been with them.”

  “Aye. Which is why I believe it was the same man who had his men, or paid for mercenaries, to kill me. He hasna the courage to fight me. Maybe he even had a bargain with—”

  “John. Oh my God, aye. What if one of my suitors tried to have you killed? But it did not work out the way he had intended. Then he speaks with John, saying if he takes me off his hands, he would make it worth his while. But, wait, then my suitor would not obtain the title and property.”

  “Maybe he didna want the title and property as much as he wanted you. John said that you have a substantial dowry also. Once everyone believed your da was dead, your suitor knew John was his last chance at obtaining your hand in marriage. Your suitor would have no likelihood at that point to actually take over the earldom. Unless, of course, you had a son, and John happened to die without issue.”

  “Aye. My suitor probably did not know that John murdered my father, only that the deed was done. Unless he was in on my father’s killing. I suspect he was not, because before that happened, he still had a chance to wed me and receive the title, property, me, and my dowry.”

  “Which means we still need to learn who your other suitors were. John was incensed that Lord Wynfield had sent you away. At first, I thought it was because he had worried about your safety.”

  “What if John already had someone in mind to marry me off to?”

  “What if it wasna even one of your suitors.”

  She took a deep breath. “I had not considered that.”

  “You said you had trouble with some of your suitors. That they had made disparaging remarks about you and your mother. What was that about?”

  “Aye, the next morn after the dance, I was with Mary and Sir Travon and I wished to ride. My father had tasked him to follow me everywhere. Or another knight that Lord Wynfield would choose.”

  “Sir Travon has always had a fondness for you. I can see it in the way he looks at you, not as a dutiful and loyal knight to your da, but something more…personal.”

  “Aye, I am certain he would have wished to have been numbered among my suitors, but my father would not have permitted him to. But I do not think he would have had anything to do with having his fellow knights murdered. He is good friends with many.”

  “He did pledge his loyalty on the battlefield to me when we were through fighting Laren’s men.”

  “He did?”

  “Aye. He handed you up to me when you were unconscious after your swim in the loch. It was as if at that point, he had conceded I had won the battle with the English and had earned the prize.”

  She poked him in the chest. “I am not a prize to be had.”

  He laughed and wrapped his arms around her. “You are the greatest treasure, lass. So you said that your suitors had said something disagreeable—”

  “Aye. Lord Hammersfield said that I had been wanton when I danced with you and said that I was like my mother. Or some such thing. He thought that they should use a firmer hand with me, and not be so polite. He had fisted his hands and was filled with rage that I would defend my mother and he was dying to say something to me, but watched his tongue while the other men stood as witnesses. Lord Neville said that you had forced yourself on me. He is a sneaky one. When the other men began to talk about trouble with the Scots at the border, which is what they believed when Cantrell, one of my father’s servants, gave Lord Wynfield the news that you had been injured—though we did not know it at the time—Lord Neville tried to convince me to dance with him. Lord Erickson remarked that the way I had thrown myself at you, he believed I was no longer a virgin. He is easily provoked and has a fiery temper.”

  “I will kill the bastards should I ever see them again,” Marcus growled. “What of Fenton?”

  “Lord Fenton would likely wish to see you dead also. But he was not with the other barons in the room that morn, discussing my being so wanton. I do not know what they thought when I told them I was still untried and that if I had to wed Lord Neville, he would have to force himself on me as I would never be his willing wife.”

  Marcus was so angry, he could have killed every last one of them.

  “But you see, dear husband, it matters not what they believe. All that matters is that you are my husband and none of them will ever have the chance again.”

  “I canna believe you spoke thus to them.” Before she could say anything, he added, “Then again, I can. But you shouldna have had to.”

  He kissed her tenderly on the mouth, to show her how much he treasured her, and how much he was glad she was his and no other man’s.

  A knock on the door had him jumping free of his wife and out of the bed, grabbing up his sword, ready for battle—stark naked.

&n
bsp; Chapter 19

  No one in their right mind would disturb Marcus and his bride unless trouble was brewing. “Aye,” Marcus called out.

  “Lord Wynfield wishes to see you,” Gunnolf said. “He is adamant that he see you at once.”

  “Is his condition worsening?” Marcus asked, setting his sword aside and grabbing his trewes.

  “Mayhap he feels such.”

  “Aye. I will be right there.”

  “Rob is seeing to him. We were still drinking when the maid came with word. Your cousin asked that I inform you of the matter. I will wait for you.”

  Isobel was out of bed in a hurry and slipping her chemise and then her léine over her head.

  “You dinna need to come with me.” Marcus tugged on the rest of his clothes as she pulled on her shoes.

  “Aye, I do. If he doesna make it, I would feel terrible if I had not seen him this eve.”

  She slipped her brat over her shoulders and Marcus quickly joined her to fasten her brooch, and then they left the chamber. Marcus escorted her to the one where Lord Wynfield was staying as Gunnolf walked beside them.

  “He is feverish and is moaning in pain,” Gunnolf warned.

  That did not sound well. “Are you and your family leaving on the morrow?” Even though Gunnolf was not a blood relation, he was very much part of the family as they had raised him from the time he was a lad.

  Marcus remembered the first time he’d met him, blue eyes wild, his hair long and unkempt, his expression grim and fierce, even though he was still suffering from a sword wound that would have killed a lesser man. In the beginning, Gunnolf had slept with the dogs. His choice because he was a Viking and not a Highlander and he had felt he did not belong with them. Until Angus’s mother coaxed him into sleeping in the keep with her sons in their chamber. At two and ten, Gunnolf had still been healing from wounds he’d received in battling the English. Some of his family had been killed and those that had survived had believed him dead and left without him. Marcus sometimes wondered if the Viking was even mortal because he seemed to survive every battle no matter how badly injured he was.

  “Ja, we are leaving after we break our fast, with all haste, before you reclaim your ward and try to match up one of us with the lass. The Chattan brothers are willing, but me?” Gunnolf furrowed his brow at the disagreeable notion. Then he considered Isobel and smiled. “Unless I could find a lass as bonny as your lady, who would turn my world over in a heartbeat.”

  Grinning, Marcus shook his head. “You will fall in love, my friend, and then you will wonder why you ever delayed the matter.”

  They grew quiet as they reached the chamber housing the baron. Rob was standing outside, waiting for them. “He has been asking for Isobel as well.”

  Marcus prayed the man would survive, but feared if he did not, how Isobel would fare. She might not have wished to marry the baron, but he could see she had a deep fondness for him, and Marcus loved her loyalty.

  Isobel rushed inside as Rob shook his head at Marcus. Even if it did not look good, men who appeared to be dying could sometimes recover to everyone’s surprise. So Marcus was hopeful that it would be so.

  Rob moved a chair close to the bed. Isobel took a seat while Marcus stood behind her and rested his hand on her shoulder, which she so appreciated. Her heart was breaking that the baron would come to give word about her father, to right a wrong with her, and then die from wounds he’d suffered from Laren MacLauchlan’s men.

  “I am sorry, Lady Isobel.” Lord Wynfield offered his hand to her.

  Isobel took his hot hand in hers and held tight, fighting the tears filling her eyes. She had seen many men die and no matter how little she knew them, she could not banish the sorrow she always felt—for them, their families, and friends. But she had known the baron since she was a wee bairn.

  “I forgive you,” she quickly said, afraid if she didn’t, he would die and she’d never have the chance to tell him one last time that she had forgiven him with all her heart.

  “I should never have sent you away.”

  “Why did you?”

  “I…I knew we had a traitor in our midst.”

  Her heart nearly quit beating. “What do you mean? Who?”

  He shook his head. “I sent men with you who were completely trustworthy, completely loyal to both your da and to you.”

  “And they died.” But then she wondered who he had not trusted. “Who were my other suitors?”

  “Lords Neville, Erickson, Hammersfield, me, Sir Halloran—”

  “The captain of the guard.”

  “Aye. Sir Edward—”

  “One of the knights who owns his own manor.”

  “Aye. And Sir Travon.”

  “Travon,” Isobel said. “Why Sir Travon?”

  “Your da knew the knight would love you dearly even though he did not have the social standing that the other men did. He is loyal to his lordship and to you. And he has always been good with dealing with the Scots at the border, so Lord Pembroke thought he might do well in his place.”

  “Yet you did not send him with me as part of my escort.”

  “I would have had he not become too ill that morning.”

  Thinking how convenient that was for the knight, she narrowed her eyes.

  “He protested most fiercely, my lady, when I would not permit him to go. He could not hold his food down. He was in the stable saddling his own horse, when he was forced to his knees again, losing everything he had eaten to break his fast. Sir Edward fought with him to make him stay behind. Sir Edward was the only man who survived the onslaught.”

  “He was lucky,” Marcus quickly reassured her. “He had been grievously wounded, still fighting, but was the last of the men still left alive when we killed your attackers.”

  Isobel agreed and was thankful that at least Sir Edward had been spared. “Did anyone know the men who killed ours?”

  “Nay. Mercenaries, we suspect. I asked everyone on our staff if any of them recognized the dead men. But no one did,” the baron said.

  “How did my suitors react when I had disappeared?”

  “All of them were furious. I could not tell if any of them had anything to do with the despicable act. Sir Travon wanted to find you when Sir Edward was returned half dead. But Sir Travon was still too sick to travel. Sir Edward was clinging to life, though even in his wounded state, he wanted to go after you, fearing for your safety. We knew Laird McEwan would find you and bring you home.” Lord Wynfield cast Marcus an annoyed look.

  “You canna blame me for taking Lady Isobel home with me where I knew she would be safe.”

  “And you would claim her for your wife.” Lord Wynfield let out a ragged breath. “Nay, I cannot blame you.”

  “Why did you have our men escort me to King Henry’s castle?” Isobel asked.

  “I did not intend to. Ever. A friend of mine has a castle south of us, only a day’s ride. I planned for you to stay there until I could ferret out the traitor. Only Sir Edward knew where you were truly going. And I told no one to prepare for the journey until that morn. Not even him. Everyone else was told that you would be staying with the king’s court at Westminster. Even everyone who was escorting you, except for Sir Edward.”

  “Someone must have known the route I would take.”

  “It was the fastest way for you to go in the beginning. If they had not caught up to you so quickly, they would have had a more difficult time locating you. So we believe they had watched the castle until you left. Someone had to have sent word to whoever attacked your escort before you had traveled very far. Which means we still have a traitor in our midst.”

  “Why did you not tell me the reason and where I was going? Surely, you did not believe I would tell anyone and the word would reach those who attacked my escort.”

  Lord Wynfield looked steadily at her and she thought, though his face was flushed and he must be feeling badly, it did not appear that he would die. Not the way he was responding to her questions. She praye
d with all her heart that his condition would not worsen and that he would still live.

  When he would not say, she frowned at him. “You thought I would tell someone? Who? If you had sworn me to secrecy for my own safety and that of my escort, why would you think I would tell anyone?”

  When he still didn’t say, she gaped at him. “Lord Wynfield, you cannot believe if I had told Mary where I was going, that she could be at the root of all this. Nay, she would never have been.”

  Though Isobel was quickly thinking about how Mary had been so tearful when she had left. But that had all to do with her leaving her behind. Naught more.

  “She told me the direction to go to rescue Isobel,” Marcus said. “She wanted me to rescue her.”

  Lord Wynfield narrowed his eyes. “How did she know?”

  “I dinna know. Maybe it was as you said. They would have gone in the one direction at the beginning. But it was her telling me that ensured I arrived in time to rescue Isobel and save Sir Edward. Mary told me that as soon as I brought Isobel safely home, she wished me to bring her to Lochaven to join Isobel. She is like a mother to her,” Marcus said.

  “Aye, she is.” Isobel shook her head. “She would never have betrayed our men.” Then she frowned. “She is who you are thinking of, aye?” When Lord Wynfield still didn’t say, Isobel couldn’t believe the baron would think Jane would have been behind any of this. “Jane? You do not believe she would have had anything to do with it.”

  “You know she has wished to wed one of your father’s knights, aye?” Lord Wynfield asked.

  Isobel’s eyes filled with tears. Jane had been like a sister to her. A friend. Not just a companion. “Aye, she has oft mentioned it.”

  “Do you know which she prefers among them?”

  Isobel’s heart was nearly bursting with upset. “Nay,” she said softly, not wishing to hear it was one of her suitors. “Sir Edward? Nay, Sir Travon, who had suddenly become ill and could not travel with us?”

  “She could have been hidden, listening in when I spoke privately to Sir Edward. Everyone knew several knights were getting ready to leave before we broke our fast. Just not where they were going or for what purpose.”