Loving A Highland Enemy: Ladies of Dunmore Series (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story)

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Loving A Highland Enemy: Ladies of Dunmore Series (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story) Page 7

by Freya, Bridget


  How had they so suddenly come into this mess? All had been quiet and now they were in the midst of a fierce battle?

  Douglas felt horrible for having gotten his lieutenant in the middle of it all merely because he wanted to be close to Dunmore. It was senseless and he had not thought through the potential consequences.

  “General!” Richard called, veering off to the right amidst the shouts surrounding them.

  There was a small hollow of trees and Douglas was sure they would be out of harm’s way and hidden there. It was a good call.

  He saw the Hanoverian troop hidden among the bushes, but had not yet placed the Jacobites. If they could get to the hollow and regroup for a moment, they might find a path to their own men and be of assistance.

  They finally reached the spot and Holloway hopped off his horse, Douglas following behind.

  “Good call. Right so you see them behind that blind? If we back through this way, we can reach them unharmed I think. Are you ready?” he asked.

  “Yes, of course,” Holloway replied, still catching his breath.

  “Let’s leave the horses until we know what’s what. They’re all crouched, but if we’re riding, we are out in the open,” Douglas said.

  They tied the horses to one of the trees and stalked their way around behind the Hanoverian soldiers until they reached the troop.

  “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” ordered their captain. He was clearly frustrated by these two lone soldiers getting in the way of their battle.

  “Forgive us; we were unaware of anything going on here until we found ourselves caught in the crossfire. Tell me, what is the plan?” Douglas asked.

  “Three sets, here, here, and here,” he replied, pointing to the blinds behind which the Jacobites hid. “Right now it’s a free-for-all shooting match, but we’ve sent our four best scouts behind them to find a solid route. We have guards stationed there and there to alert us to anyone sneaking up behind.

  “Clearly we didn’t need any alert for the two of you since you decided to ride straight through a battlefield,” he mocked.

  “As I said, we were unaware,” Douglas said icily.

  “Mullview has just broken out. It’s not a long-standing battle. You don’t have to feel like a fool. Unless you agree that you are, in which case you have plenty else to worry about,” the captain said.

  “Can we be of assistance or not?” Douglas asked, tired of the banter.

  “That depends. Who are you?” the captain challenged.

  “General Douglas Warwick, and this is Lieutenant Richard Holloway. We’re stationed out of Fort Amswold. We know this area quite well, as we’ve been scouting around Dunmore an awful lot lately,” Douglas replied.

  “Well that’s grand and all, but you can’t know it as well as we do. We’ve been stationed right here for nearly a year now. If you think you, stationed a day away, know it better than us, then by all means, take over. Otherwise, I’d say we have things well in hand and you might as well be on your way,” came the response.

  Douglas was bitter at these words. He had come to offer aid, but had only been insulted by an egotistical man. Perhaps the Jacobites were right about them after all.

  “Come Richard, let’s be on our way,” Douglas said, ushering Holloway from the soldiers, who let their shots ring out into the air with whoops and hollers.

  “What a terrible man,” Holloway said after a while.

  “Agreed. But it doesn’t matter much. We’ve no reason to be stuck with them and that’s good and fine for me,” Douglas said.

  “How can men of our own side, fighting for the same thing we are, be so horrible to their own?” Holloway asked bitterly.

  “A better question is if they can be this terrible to their own, what are they like to those who are different?” Douglas asked in reply.

  As if by some answer, a cry rang out in the night and Douglas heard the death call of a Jacobite soldier.

  “I suppose that’s how they treat them,” Holloway said.

  The Sound that Rang Out

  “It’s me favorite area to ride in. I cannae think of a better place in all of Scotland. It’s good to be back,” Callum said with a smile. He was all joy in the midmorning air. Grace watched his charming smile and tried to appreciate it as best she could. He really was very handsome.

  Riding through the fields with their party of eight others, also on horseback, Grace felt that the opportunity to be with Callum was perfectly timed. They lagged behind the others just enough to not be noticed as falling behind.

  “Aye, it’s a lovely area,” Grace replied, finding herself suddenly nervous again in her need to impress Callum. It would be good if she showed him her best side, she realized. She needed him to want her if she was going to show any interest in him. She had seen women who chased after men, part of their Scottish spirit, but it wasn’t her personality.

  As usual, Grace wished she were more forthright. Like Colla. Then again, Colla was constantly getting herself into trouble and Grace knew that she could do without that. It was enough of a challenge to be a woman, but to be a woman with a reputation--that was a difficulty she wasn’t quite prepared for.

  Nevertheless, it was frustrating to feel somehow stuck in the middle. Grace didn’t have the bravery of Colla, nor the sweetness of Adeline. She admired both of her friends, but found herself more along the lines of inconsistency, and that was the last thing she wished for Callum to see.

  “How is the air? Better than England, I should think?” Grace asked, trying to continue the conversation with Callum.

  He laughed. “Ye dinnae have any idea. But some parts of the country arnae too bad. Some are actually bonnie. But nothing’s like the highlands,” he replied.

  “And London? How does it compare with Edinburgh?” she asked.

  “Isnae even comparable. I ken Edinburgh has her issues, but London is a den of filth and thieves on one side and mansions and thieves on the other,” Callum said.

  Grace nodded, as if she understood what he meant. She had never been to a place that sounded so awful as London, but to think that even the wealthy were so heartless as to steal, she couldn’t imagine ever wanting to go.

  There was an awkward quiet that descended. The conversation felt a bit forced. She didn’t want to continue with simple small talk, but it was difficult to know what to say to keep Callum interested. She knew that he was quite devout in his faith.

  “God has truly created a bonnie land,” she said nonchalantly as she gazed around them.

  “Aye, He did at that,” came the reply.

  He glanced at her and Grace felt his eyes upon her cheek. For a moment, she sensed that they needn’t speak at all. He was quite content to remain quiet and simply ride along with her.

  Grace slyly glanced back at him with a shy smile and his own widened. Her stomach did a flip as she recognized that her efforts were, indeed, working.

  “What’s holding the two of ye back?” called Adeline from up ahead with the others. They were not far, but Grace realized that the gap had widened enough to make it obvious, and the others chuckled a bit at Adeline’s question with a painfully obvious answer.

  “Dinnae bother them, they’re only catching up, right,” asked Joel Timmons, one of Callum’s friends, who seemed to be quite taken by Adeline. He was from a different area of Scotland, but had grown close to Callum while in England and was enjoying his time in Dunmore more than he’d expected, as far as Grace could tell.

  “Of course, merely catching up,” Adeline echoed, again issuing a round of quiet chuckles at Grace’s expense.

  She hated having others whisper about her and speculate about her friendship with Callum.

  “Arnae two old friends allowed to check in with one another now and then?” Callum asked with a sigh. It seemed to Grace that he was enjoying the attention more than she was, but tried to remain sympathetic to her obvious discomfort.

  “Aye, just dinnae fall too far behind,” Joel replied, quicke
ning his own pace.

  The whole party continued to move forward, aware that they would have to turn back soon. The freedom outside was too good a taste and Grace didn’t want to return to the castle when the open fields and gentle breeze were before her.

  Suddenly, the crew ahead of them stopped short.

  Grace and Callum looked at one another and back at their friends, who were clearly in confusion and, was it fear?

  They rode quickly to close the gap and catch up to them.

  “What is it?” Grace asked in concern.

  “Something isnae right,” Joel replied, looking around.

  “What the hell does that mean?” Callum asked.

  “I heard something. I dinnae ken for sure, but it sounded like a man yelling, only for a moment, and then it was gone. And the air here, it’s too still,” he said.

  Grace scoffed. “What do ye mean, ‘the air is too still’? That doesnae make any sense,” she said.

  “Miss Grace,” Callum said, holding up a hand to silence her.

  Grace shoved aside the offense, taking note of the seriousness of Callum’s face. There really was something wrong.

  “Forgive me,” he said, realizing how rude he had been. “But I’ve learned that when Joel has an inkling in his gut about something bad…it is wise to take heed.”

  Grace nodded, not knowing what to say or do beyond that. It seemed nonsense to her, but she didn’t know the world the way these men did, and she thought Callum was probably right to trust his friend, who had seen battle as he had.

  “So how should we proceed?” Grace asked.

  “Do ye ken another route?” Joel asked, looking at her with genuine concern in his grey eyes.

  “Aye, just a bit beyond, do ye see those woods? On the other side is a grand field and there’s a path that can get us back much quicker,” she replied.

  “Through the trees?” he asked, his concern evidently growing. “A forest isnae the safest of places to go through.”

  “It isnae really a forest,” she explained. “Honestly, it’s just a few trees. They’re thick right there, but ye can even see both ends. If ye want, we can ride around the edges of it, but it’d make the journey longer and if we ride through it’d be no more than five or ten minutes.”

  This seemed to satisfy Joel and he nodded to Callum that the two should lead the way. Grace and Adeline rode directly behind the total of four men and the other women rode behind them.

  They easily reached the trees and Grace had been right, it wasn’t long before they cleared through them. The whole party found themselves in the field Grace had said contained a path.

  “See? Right there!” she said, pointing to the road and the men breathed a sigh of relief, heading toward it.

  In that moment of exposure, a whizzing sound alerted Grace to the grave mistake the shortcut had been.

  “Bullets!” Joel yelled. “Run!”

  He ushered for the whole party to ride ahead of him and Grace watched as they did. However, she found in her mind that a different concern was present and as a result, her body froze.

  Douglas. Every time there was battle, every time she imagined fighting between the Hanoverians and Jacobites, his face came swimming into her mind as it did now. Where was he?

  “Grace!” Callum shouted, pulling her from her distracted thoughts. Joel was closing in behind the others, but Callum had stayed beside her and was ushering her horse to follow his back into the trees.

  Grace realized that her hesitancy had separated them from the rest of their group, who chose to ride forward and away rather than retreating to the cover of the small woods like they were doing now.

  She felt silly for having allowed her thoughts to drift so strongly. Nevertheless, Douglas was still strong in her mind and she found herself looking around. A sudden chorus of yells was heard and she looked at Callum.

  They had to get away.

  “Come!” he ordered for her safety.

  She moved further back to hide and they saw two ends of the field spilling over with bodies that charged at one another. It was war now and there was little they could do to prevent it.

  “We have to get back. Do ye think we can go back the same way we came?” Callum asked.

  “We can, but it is a much longer path than the one they took and we have greater risk of running into others if this evolves further,” she replied.

  “Aye, but now the battle is started and we cannae even get to the road they took,” he said.

  “Then I guess we’ve no choice,” Grace said with cautious resolve.

  They turned their horses and prepared to ride back. Making it through the trees and into the clearing, Grace breathed her own sigh of relief that they at least had the small woods between them and the battle.

  “We should run,” Callum said, and now that they were less likely to attract attention, Grace could see that he was quite desperate to return and be free of the anxiety of their surroundings.

  “Aye,” she replied fearfully.

  Once more, Grace found herself agonizingly caught off guard when a sudden shot rang through the air. Callum cried out in pain as his body, slowed by the magic of time, slumped forward and slid off his horse.

  “Callum!” she screamed. Grace turned to the trees and saw a man standing there. He adjusted his shot and aimed it at Grace, and just as she was certain that death was before her, the soldier took a bullet to the back of his own head and fell back.

  Grace’s eyes darted around the trees, but she saw no one else. It was dangerous, she was terrified, and she simply didn’t know what to do.

  However, she knew there was little other choice. She couldn’t leave Callum to die on the ground.

  Jumping off her own horse, Grace used his as a shield, which made her feel a surge of guilt. She thought that if she stayed behind it, she might be less likely to take a hit from anyone shooting at her.

  Grace tried to pull Callum’s body so that he, too, was protected.

  He was heavy. The weight of him was tough now that he seemed to be completely unconscious. The wound was to the side of his stomach and he was bleeding badly.

  “Callum, Callum wake up!” she shouted desperately. Tears pooled in her eyes as she watched her friend lie injured. It was best that he was unconscious, she knew that. If he had been awake, the agony would have been unbearable. However, she had to stop the bleeding.

  Grace tried to rip some of the fabric from her dress, but it would not tear easily. She saw a knife in the band around his waist and she cut off a large section, not caring, as it was now quite drenched in blood anyway.

  She held the cut cloth to his wound, hoping the pressure would contain the bleeding. There was no way to get Callum out of the open space though. She could not lift him onto the horse. She could not drag him back to Dunmore.

  “Callum, please, please! What should I do?” she begged as he lay before her. His face seemed serene and peaceful. She couldn’t imagine the expression he would have once he was awake. If he ever did awake.

  “Right. It’s up to me. I’ve got to get you back. We can do this,” she said, partially to him and partially to herself.

  Grace cut another stretch of fabric from her dress and tied it around him to create a makeshift tourniquet. It wouldn’t hold for long, but it was a start.

  Caught Between Two

  “Where did it come from?”

  At the sound of another cry, Douglas stopped. He held up a hand for Holloway not to move. He waited just a moment and recognized the voice of a woman shouting a man’s name in a pleading tone.

  “It’s this way,” Douglas said, urging Holloway to follow him. He couldn’t bear the sound of a traumatized woman. It had been the most horrible part of being a soldier, and he didn’t feel like listening to it today.

  “What if it’s an enemy, General? Do you think they would even allow us to help them? Should we?” Holloway asked.

  “I don’t care if they allow us or not. We have to be human just as they are.
It is not up to us to decide whether or not they live or die at this time. As that ham-fist so clearly pointed out, this is not our battle. So we will offer to help, no matter what side they happen to be on,” Douglas decided.

  He was relieved that it was only Holloway with him and not others from his troop. Holloway might be counted on to listen and observe his captain; others would only attempt to suppress their questioning.

  Coming through the trees, Douglas felt his heartbeat skip. Hiding behind the wall of a horse, he could see the hair, glimpses of her figure, and finally the flash of her eyes, recognizing that he was coming.

  Grace.

  He saw her gaze as he and Holloway approached. Clearly nervous, she was the first to speak.

  “Sirs, please. I ken we are just enemies in yer eyes, but I’m asking ye both to please be merciful,” she begged, as if unaware of Douglas’ identity.

  For a moment, he looked in her eyes with confusion. Why was she pretending not to know him?

  However, just as quickly, he considered the wisdom in that. Here he was with one of his men and she was with…a man. It would certainly be best that Richard Holloway not know about their previous knowledge of one another.

  Yet it was the fact of Grace being with another man that caused him grief. Who was this creature lying so wounded beside her? Moreover, why were they alone together? She was working so hard to save him.

  A little part of Douglas recognized the ugliness of jealousy stirring within him. He had been taken care of by Grace. She had worked to tend his wounds. It seemed somehow unfair to see her doing so for another, for a man who was clearly handsome and obviously Scottish like her.

  Douglas pushed aside the jealousy. He remembered that Holloway had not been there when he first met Grace and there would be no recognition from his lieutenant so long as he maintained the act that Grace had begun.

  “Do not worry, my lady. We will help you. Of course we will. Please tell me, do you know the way to Dunmore? I have heard of a woman there who has great skill with wounds,” he said, referencing Joanna.

 

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