Highlander’s Tempted Guard (Scottish Medieval Historical Romance)

by Adamina Young

  16

  Abandon All Hope

  Simon sat with other members of the garrison after their morning exercises, trying not to answer all the questions they threw at him, and failing miserably.

  “But why was he arrested? What did he do?”

  He could hear the anxiety in their voices. Daividh was known as one of the most proficient fighters amongst them. If the laird had found cause to punish him for something, how safe would the rest of them be?

  “’Tis nothing to do wi’ us, or fighting,” Simon tried to reassure them.

  “Then wha’? Is it the lassie?” Simon looked up, unsurprised that it was Mackenzie Fingall who asked the question. The man was a consummate gossip and if anyone was going to notice how much time Daividh spent with Lady Fiona, it was him.

  “What lassie? I dinnae ken wha’ ye’re on aboot.”

  Mackenzie gave a leery smile. “Och. Everyone has noticed how she watches ‘im. Is that not so?” He looked around as if waiting for others to acknowledge the veracity of his words.

  “What lassie?” Hendry Stewart asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Th’ one tha’s to be wed,” Mackenzie replied at once, always happy to share his tidbits of gossip.

  “Och? Why would she do tha’?”

  “Ye ken he’s th’ one that went to fetch her frae her home. God kens wha’ they got up tae on th’ way.”

  There were amused murmurs among the men, along with impressed whistles. Not many men would dare do such a thing, especially against their employer’s wishes.

  “It wasnae like tha’!” Simon tried to stem the tide but no one was listening.

  “But why put him in the dungeon though? If he has dishonored th’ lassie should he no marry her?”

  “Nobody has been dishonored!” Simon thundered in annoyance.

  Hendry shrugged. “Seems like the laird thinks so.”

  “He doesnae. His dispute wi’ Campbell is something else.”

  But he could see that no one believed him.

  Dand knocked on Padraig’s door and waited to be invited in.

  “Enter.” Padraig turned from his table and got to his feet. Being a man diminutive in stature, he liked to stand in the presence of others who might be taller than him. He blinked at Dand expectantly.

  “Sir, I have overheard in the courtyard that the McCormick arrested one of his men. He suspected that the man was in flagrant wi’ his niece. They dinnae say which one by name but they did say she was to be married.”

  Padraig’s eyes narrowed. “Did ye get the name of the soldier?”

  “Aye. His name is Daividh Campbell.”

  Padraig walked slowly and sat back down in his chair. He leaned back, looking thoughtful.

  “Thank ‘e Dand. Ye may go the noo.”

  Dand nodded and left without another word.

  Padraig decided that there was only one thing to be done. He needed to go and confront Lady Fiona and he needed to do it now. He was seething inside but he kept his outward appearance cold and unruffled. It would not do to let the girl know just how much this union meant to him. He walked up to the east wing where they were housed and right up to her chambers, knocking imperiously on the door. One of her sisters came rushing out of the opposite chamber, looking flustered and red-faced.

  “Sir, wha’ are ye doing here?”

  “Looking for my bride.”

  “But...ye cannae...she isnae…” The girl shook her head as if lost for words at his breach of propriety. Which was laughable if what he had heard of the girl was true.

  “I require to speak wi’ her at once.”

  “She is indisposed sir. Unable to leave her bed.”

  “Then I shall go in.” He reached for the knob and turned it even as she shouted.

  “No!” Her hand was on his arm and she was pulling him away. “Ye’re nae allowed. I shall fetch my uncle if’n ye continue to act in this brutish manner, sir!”

  The girl’s chest was heaving with affront, her wide eyes gazing at him in anger. It would have been amusing if he were not so incandescent with rage. “Ye will have yer sister present herself to me in the parlor in one hour, d’ye hear me?”

  The girl nodded, moving to block his way should he try for the door again. He was surprised that Lady Fiona had not come to see what the commotion was about. Perhaps she was truly ill.

  “One hour,” he threw over his shoulder as he walked away. He could hear additional footsteps and the rise of piping voices as he rounded the corner and concluded that all the sisters were gathered to commiserate on his boorish ways. He gritted his teeth, hands fisted, and made his way to the dungeon to see about the warrior.

  Daividh opened his eyes as a shadow darkened the doorway of his cell. He was unsurprised to see that his visitor was Laird Hunter. He sighed, straightening up, and stared right at him.

  “Ye’re an impertinent one aren’ ye?” the man said as if he knew Daividh.

  Daividh said nothing. He was surprised to hear a growl and lifted his eyes, squinting at the man, wondering if he was the one who had made that sound or Daividh just imagined it.

  “Tell me, soldier, what gave ye the right to touch wha’s mine?”

  “I havenae touched anyone.” On Fiona’s behalf, Daividh felt the need to protest.

  “Oh? Then why are ye in here?”

  “I dinnae believe that is any of yer consairn. Ye’re nae the laird here.”

  Hunter sneered. “Perhaps not. But I do own him, do I no?”

  Daividh stared at him in surprise that he would mention such a thing, and to him of all people. “I dinnae ken anything aboot tha’.”

  “Aye, ye deny a lot of things do ye no? Weel, we shall just have tae see aboot tha’ will we no?”

  “I suppose.” Daividh turned away, indicating his disinterest. The man could threaten as much as he wanted, but really, what could he actually do?

  When he looked back towards the doorway, it was empty. Daividh sighed, shaking his head. He needed Simon to come and tell him what was happening above. How had Hunter found out about everything? Did McCormick tell him? Daividh could not see the advantage to McCormick of doing such a thing. He shook his head again and pulled at his shackles. He did not like feeling so helpless.

  Padraig’s mood was not helped when, instead of Lady Fiona presenting herself to him like a perfectly obedient wife, it was Donnchadh who came to inform him that the Lady Fiona was confined for the time being and not up to seeing visitors. His tone was chiding, which annoyed Hunter even more.

  “She is my bride-to-be. I have the right—”

  “Ye ken full well tha’ sometimes a woman cannae leave her chambers. Why must ye be unreasonable?”

  Padraig turned away to avoid running Donnchadh through with his sword. After all, he still needed the man.

  “Alrigh’ then if I cannae speak to her, I insist that ye gi’ me the soldier.”

  There was a long silence behind him and Padraig was eventually forced to turn around, his eyebrows raised. “Weel?”

  “What d’ye mean, gi’ ye the soldier?”

  “Just wha’ I said, Donnchadh. You will gi’ him to me to do wi’ as I please.”

  Donnchadh dropped his eyes, shaking his head in consternation. “The soldier has nothing to do wi’ this. I cannae—”

  “Oh, can ye no? Are ye sure?”

  There was a tense silence as Donnchadh took in the implications of his words. He sighed, turning away, still shaking his head. “There isnae need for tha’.”

  “Nevertheless, that is wha’ I want.” Padraig looked him in the eye so he could see just how serious he was.

  “I cannae gi’ him to ye.” Padraig opened his mouth to make his threats but Donnchadh spoke over him. “Ye’re going tae have tae take him.”

  Padraig closed his mouth again, and smiled.

  They came for him in the middle of the night. One minute he was asleep on the hard floor of the cell, the next three men in cloaks were hustling him out, pulling him al
ong when he could not get to his feet fast enough for them. Instinctively, he struggled but he was shackled hand and foot. The men also slipped a mask over his head as they pulled him along. He shouted for them to let him go but they just ignored him. He tried shouting for help but either there was nobody nearby or they sanctioned this treatment of him. Daividh did not know which was worse.

  Suddenly they lifted him up and threw him down. He braced himself for a hard fall but landed quite soon on a hard surface that promptly began to move. He could hear the clip-clop of horses’ hooves and the snuffle of their breath in the cold air. A wagon then.

  Where are they taking me?

  They rode all night without a break and arrived back at Dunavar Castle just as the dawn was breaking. Milking maids were already about and the grooms were awake so they could not sneak in unseen. Instead, Fiona walked nonchalantly into the stable and handed the horse over to the stable boy as if she had just come from a morning ride. She nodded pleasantly to him and then walked out of the stable, using the kitchen to enter the castle and taking the back stairs to her chambers. She was exhausted and all she wanted to do was rest. But first, she had to alert Jamesina that she was back.

  She knocked softly on her sister’s door before opening the door and stepping in the room. Jamesina and Ùna were sleeping together on the vast four-poster bed. She crept closer and sat on the side, staring down at them, feeling an immense love for her sisters.

  Reaching out a hand, she shook Jamesina awake. Her sister mumbled protests as she tried to get away from the shaking, her mouth pouting sulkily. Fiona giggled in amusement and Jamesina opened one eye to see who had done that.

  “Och, it’s ye,” she said and promptly closed her eyes. Fiona waited. Jamesina’s eyes flew open as she jerked up on the bed, clutching at Fiona. “Oh God, ye’re back!” she whisper-shouted. “Thank heavens.”

  Fiona laughed. “For a moment there I wasnae sure of my welcome.”

  “Tsha! It’s been a long day. Yer betrothed was here, demanding tae see ye. I had tae go tae Uncle Donnchadh to intervene.”

  Fiona paled. “Are ye alrigh’?”

  “I’m fine. But that man is no guid, Sister. He tried to enter yer chambers wi’out even knocking.”

  Fiona shuddered. “Aye weel, it makes wha’ I mun’ do easier I suppose.”

  Jamesina’s eyes narrowed. “She told ye wha’ tae do?”

  Fiona shook her head. “She said it mun’ be my decision. I’ve been thinking as I rode and there is only one right thing tae do. The rest is simply cowardice.”

  Jamesina squeezed her arm and smiled. “Ye always were the brave one.”

  “Go on wi’ ye! I couldnae do anything wi’out ye.” She got to her feet. “But I mun’ rest for a few hours afore I confront the laird.”

  “Aye, goodnight then.” Jamesina nodded before lying back down and closing her eyes. Fiona smiled at her sister before backing out of the room and closing the door. She felt curiously lighter than she had in a while. It was going to be difficult, what she had to do.

  But worth it, she thought as she discarded her cloak and gown and lay down to sleep in her shift.

  Definitely worth it.

  17

  Search and Rescue

  Simon walked down to the dungeon to check on Daividh, still fuming about how he had handled the news to his men. Now there would be rumors about his friend in the garrison which would put his life in danger. He wanted to apologize and warn him in advance. Surely the laird would let him free soon and he did not want to aggravate the problems that might arise as a result of this.

  He came to a stop by the cell, shocked to find the door hanging open, and nobody inside. He looked around, mouth hanging open, wondering what was happening. Walking into the cell, he bent down to examine the patterns in the dirt. From what he could tell, and he was no tracker—not like Daividh anyway—someone had been dragged out of here and by the looks of things, there had been a struggle.

  He ran out of the cell, not thinking just acting, and went straight to the laird’s quarters. He knocked on the door, frantically shouting the McCormick’s name.

  “Wha’s the matter?” The door opened and the laird peered out, looking annoyed.

  “Something’s happened tae Campbell. They took ‘im!”

  The laird frowned. “Who? Wha’ are ye on aboot?”

  “Daividh Campbell, someone dragged him from his cell. We need tae find him.”

  “Hold yer horses.” The laird opened the door wider, his arms held up in a quelling gesture. “Are ye saying that Campbell is no longer in his cell?”

  “Tha’s wha’ I’m telling ye! They took ‘im.”

  “Who? Who took him?”

  “I dinnae ken!” Simon shouted. “Brigands for all ye ken, or maybe it was Hunter’s men. We need tae assemble a hunting party.”

  McCormick shook his head. “Calm yersel’. Go back tae the garrison and I will handle this problem.”

  Simon was already shaking his head before McCormick had finished speaking. “No, please listen, I mun’ help. I can track. We can get ‘im back afore something irreparable happens tae him.”

  “Aye weel, ye can try,” McCormick said drily.

  “Wha’s that supposed tae mean?”

  McCormick shook his head as if to fling the words away. “Nothing. Let me be. I have work tae do.” He closed the door behind him and Simon was left staring open-mouthed at it. He turned, unable to decide what to do next. His legs automatically took him to the kitchens where he pilfered a loaf, chewing thoughtfully as he tried to decide whether to follow Daividh on his own. The men would not leave without the laird’s permission. Indeed, if Simon left, there would probably be consequences. But he could not just sit and do nothing.

  A flash of red caught his eye and he turned to see Lady Fiona’s maid busily filling a tray with food and drink. No doubt they intended to eat breakfast in their chambers. He got up and followed her up the stairs, watching as she disappeared into one of the chambers on the east wing. He walked slowly toward the door, raised his hand, and knocked.

  “Aye? Who is it?” a voice called from inside.

  “My name is Simon Campbell. I am Daividh Campbell’s kin. I need yer help.”

  The door opened at once. Lady Fiona regarding him with wide eyes. “What has happened to him?” she asked without preamble.

  “They have taken him.” Simon’s voice shook with fear.

  “They? Who exactly?”

  “I dinnae ken but his cell is empty and it looks as if there was a struggle.”

  “His cell? He was imprisoned?” Her voice rose with every word, as her eyes widened with horror.

  “Aye.”

  “Why?”

  Simon favored her with a wry glance. “Why d’ye think?”

  She sighed, shaking her head. “My uncle...he did this?”

  “I dinnae think so. But he willnae do anything aboot it.”

  She inhaled noisily, nostrils flared with annoyance. “Give me time to change my clothes and I shall go and see my uncle.”

  Simon stepped back at once. “Aye, alrigh’.”

  The door closed in his face and he took a deep breath before beginning to pace as he waited. He hoped with everything he had that the lady would not take her time with her toilette. Time was of the essence. Wherever they had taken him, he doubted that his kidnappers meant Daividh any good. He feared that even now, they were too late.

  The door opened and Lady Fiona strode out, followed by a retinue of women. Simon recognized them as the lady’s sisters and perhaps their maids as well. They seemed to be quite a number. They marched down the stairs and straight to the laird’s quarters. Lady Fiona knocked quite loudly on the door and then turned the knob without waiting for permission to enter.

  She closed the door behind her and left the rest of them waiting in the corridor like a royal guard. Simon planted himself in the back, resolving not to move until he knew whether his friend was to be saved or not.

&nbs
p; “I love ye Uncle Donnchadh,” Fiona said and could see the surprise on his face at her words when she had walked into his rooms with so much aggression.

  “I too love ye, my niece. Why have ye—”

  “Ye ken why I am here, Uncle. I need yer help. Because as much as I love ye like I did my faither, Daividh is my soul. Ye mun’ help me get him back, please Uncle. Tell me where he is.”

  Uncle Donnchadh blanched, looking disconcerted at her blatant honesty. “Ye’re engaged to Hunter. Ye cannae—”

  “I will go the noo and break the engagement but this is urgent. Where have they taken him? What will they do wi’ him?”

  Donnchadh looked away. “I dinnae ken.”

  “Uncle Donnchadh, ye say ye love me. Do ye want me tae be happy?”

  “O’ course I do but…”

  “Wha’ is he holding ower ye, Uncle?”

  Donnchadh looked away, hunching in on himself. “I dinnae—”

  “Ye will never be free o’ him. He will use ye until he has wrung ye dry. Please Uncle, can we no just make a stand? Tell me where they have taken him.”

  Donnchadh turned to look at her, eyes bleak. “I really dinnae ken. But…” He stopped, forehead sweating, and licked his lips. “I suppose a good tracker could find them. They werenae hiding. And I suppose there is only one place really that Hunter would take him.”

  “And where is that?”

  Donnchadh met her eyes. “Glendale.”

  Fiona leaned forward. “Uncle Donnchadh, will ye gi’ me men to follow them?”

  Donnchadh sighed. “Nae. I willnae gi’ ye men. I will take ye.”

  Fiona smiled. “Thank ‘e Uncle.”

  “Dinnae thank me, Lady Fiona. I am the one who betrayed him in th’ first place…” He met her eyes. “Just as I betrayed yer faither.”

  Fiona blinked, a few things rearranging themselves in her mind. It came to her that her uncle was saying her father’s death had not been an accident. That somehow, Laird Hunter had engineered it...with her uncle’s help. To his credit, her uncle did not plead for her forgiveness or try to justify his actions. He simply looked at her and waited.