Highlander's Lionheart (Beasts 0f The Highlands Book 1)

by Alisa Adams

  “Trouble, Gordon?” Tristan asked him.

  Gordon leaned away from Godet who he had been talking to in a hushed voice. But it was Godet that spoke up. “She dinnae know,” Godet stated firmly. “Brigda,” she clarified, “she dinnae know about the alliance her father had made with the Munroe’s.”

  Tristan was silent. He turned to his brother, scratching his chin. Gordon stared down the table, deep in thought. “Aye, she was alarmed. But the reason is unclear. Alarm at the alliance, alarm at her father being in battle and possibly killed... Which?”

  Godet answered, “I believe she did not know of the alliance. And somehow, I dinnae think it was alarm at her father being killed. She seemed almost… hopeful… that he would be killed,” she ended quietly.

  Ceena and Flori agreed. They had seen it too. The faintest glimmer of hope. They looked at Godet and nodded their heads. What is going on? Godet thought. Was Brigda being used as a female pawn just as she and her sisters were? To be used for whichever alliance gained the best advantage?

  A thought struck Godet suddenly and she looked up sharply at Gordon. “Ye niver answered her about her father. Where was Mungan and where was the MacKenzie? Why haven’t we seen Mungan? Surely, he would have come to gloat at Flori’s capture,” she said in a rush of words and questions.

  “Aye, we have only seen Red,” Gordon said musing it over. “Laird MacKenzie would not dare show his face in any of these skirmishes that may involve the MacDonell’s, lass. Not until his daughter is safely wed to me or…”

  “Or what?” Godet asked him.

  “Or she is wed to Mungan,” he added thoughtfully.

  “Why would ye not answer her about her father?” Godet asked him sternly. “’Twas cruel.”

  Gordon looked down at her, his eyes boring into hers. “’Twas not cruel, ‘twas strategic.”

  “Then ‘tis yer strategy that is cruel,” Godet admonished him.

  “Ye already told me this, mo ghraidh, right after Brigda left the table,” Gordon said quietly.

  “Then tell me, how is letting Brigda think her father could be dead anything but cruel?” Godet stubbornly insisted. “What strategy is there to be had?”

  “She will send a missive with one of her servants to find out,” Gordon said firmly.

  “Of course, I would dae no less, but how does this help ye?” Godet asked him impatiently.

  “Will she be happy to find he is still alive or will she be disappointed? Also, will she change her behavior and in what way?” Gordon said thoughtfully.

  Godet sat very still, watching Gordon. She was thinking very hard. There was one question she was afraid to ask. Gordon looked down at her and lowered his voice so that it was for her ears alone. “Ye are wondering if the wedding is still on, arnae ye, mo ghraidh?” Gordon whispered huskily to her.

  “If ye are going to call me yer love, I should hope that there will be no wedding,” Godet answered him and raised her chin defiantly.

  Gordon laughed softly. “Oh, there will be a wedding, to be sure, my love” he teased under his breath.

  Tristan heard Godet. “There needs to be a wedding,” Tristan said emphatically. “We need to get the MacKenzie Laird and Mungan here on our grounds where we have all our men. Otherwise, we risk forcing a war between the clans.”

  Gordon answered his brother curtly. “Aye brother. So, there must be a wedding.”

  Godet stifled a soft gasp as she stared at Gordon. She stood up from the table and walked briskly up the stairs to her room before she made a fool of herself and cried in front of Gordon and all his men. Godet was staring into the fire that was crackling warmly in the fireplace in her room. Soft tears fell down her cheeks and she angrily swiped each tear away.

  There was a soft tap on her door. She wiped her face one last time and called to whoever it was to enter. The door opened slowly, almost hesitantly, and Godet gasped.

  20

  Brigda stood there at the door with her hand still on the door handle. She looked at Godet but quickly looked away. Her eyes glancing around the lovely blue bedroom. “Even yer bedroom is far more beautiful than mine. He’s never wanted me here.” She glanced back at Godet. “He’s never wanted me at all,” she whispered.

  Godet let out a shocked breath. “Brigda! Please come in.” It was obvious that Brigda had been crying.

  “Ye’ve been crying, Lady Godet?” Brigda asked.

  “As have ye, I see,” Godet said with a question in her voice.

  Brigda walked further into the room. “I owe ye an apology for how horrid I treated ye and yer sisters when ye arrived,” she replied haltingly.

  Godet held her surprise, she bowed her head, thinking a moment and made a quick decision to trust Brigda. She looked back up at her. “We were none too kind to ye either.”

  “I thought ye were here for ill reasons, ye see,” said Brigda, her hands working nervously in the air as she spoke. “To take advantage of Gordon being Laird and the advantages of having him as an ally…”

  “I dinnae know he was Laird, but yes, we needed the MacDonells as an ally,” Godet said truthfully.

  “Why though? For all his land?” Brigda asked.

  “No. Purely because I believed we were betrothed and I couldnae stand the thought of being forced into a marriage with Mungan Munroe.” Godet shuddered.

  “I know that Mungan is older, but a marriage to him would have been very powerful. He is very powerful. And it would grow yer land as the Ross and Munroe lands adjoin one another,” Brigda said.

  “Aye, older yes, but old enough to be my grand da. Worse, he is not kind, in fact, he is very cruel. He killed all his past wives and…” Godet hesitated to tell her more.

  “And? Please tell me,” she urged. “I need to know, please?” Brigda pleaded desperately.

  “He beat us,” Godet said in a rush. “Killed and burned out my crofters. Killed Flori’s betrothed on the eve of their wedding. We now know that he killed my parents...” She paused. “And one of his men killed Laird MacDonell’s parents as well,” Godet finished.

  Brigda stared at her. Her mouth agape. She clasped her hands together and started walking back and forth in front of the fireplace. “And my father has an alliance with him,” she said to no one in particular. “And I am quite sure my father is still alive or one of my men would have told me otherwise to be sure.” Her finger pointed to the ceiling as she talked and continuing her pacing. “Gordon distrusts my father, yet he wants an alliance with him… to get his whiskey to the ports.” She looked at Godet when she heard her soft gasp. “Yes, I know about that.” She continued talking with her hands, her arms spreading wide and waving about as she continued to talk. “So, he seeks an alliance with the Ross’ for the location of Fionnaghall or an alliance with the MacDonells for the whiskey.”

  Godet watched her pace, knowing Brigda needed to reason it all out.

  “If my father has an alliance with the Ross’ he gets control of the ports on the west side and the east side, and in particular, the firth. Doesn’t he?” she asked, looking sharply up at Godet.

  “That would seem to be the outcome,” Godet agreed.

  Brigda resumed her pacing. Staring at the blue patterns in the beautiful blue carpet beneath her feet. “Goodness this is a tolla-thon rug, isn’t it?” she said suddenly.

  “Oh dear,” Godet whispered. “Brigda, that word... It doesnae mean what ye think.”

  “It doesn’t mean beautiful?” Brigda asked with surprise.

  “No, it means... Well, ‘tis worse than saying sards,” Godet explained, knowing her face was blushing. “My sisters were being cruel and I am sorry.”

  Brigda let out a rich laugh. “Oh, certainly I deserved it!” She then sobered and looked at Godet. “We are pawns in all this aren’t we?” she asked her quietly. “My father hoped to get ownership of the MacDonell whiskey. Now, I think he hopes to get the ports instead, maybe thinking it will give him more power than an alliance with the MacDonells?”

  “B
ut that would mean…” Godet said in a hushed voice.

  “Yes, that he may try to marry me off to Mungan or just kill him like he has so many others, and take Fionnaghall himself. Is that why Laird MacDonell is helping ye so much? He wants the firth and it’s ports?”

  “Gordon, that is, Laird MacDonell,” Godet corrected herself, blushing with embarrassment. “Gordon was not aware that Fionnaghall looked over the sea and the firth. He had never come to our home. I knew him only as a child. Our parents always met up at the summer games. Coming here was the first I have seen him since we were children,” Godet finished quietly.

  Brigda was staring at her, intently. “Ye are in love with him,” she stated firmly.

  Godet stood there wide-eyed. She swallowed.

  Brigda smiled. “I am glad ye are not using him as my father was with my betrothal to him. He is a good man, Godet. Ye are wise to fall in love with him.” Brigda stopped and studied Godet. “I had hoped that he would fall in love with ye. I am ashamed to admit that I tried hard to be a miserable wretch, to push him toward ye or one of yer sisters.”

  “Ye arnae in love with him yourself then?” Godet asked. She realized she was holding her breath, waiting for Brigda’s answer. She had asked her before dinner, there on the stairs, but Brigda had deflected.

  Brigda sighed. “My mother died many years ago. Since then my father has become very intent on gaining power. By any means necessary. He became obsessed with this. It was frightening really,” Brigda revealed as she started pacing again.

  “I am so sorry, I dinnae know yer mother had passed,” Godet said quietly, still waiting for the answer on whether Brigda loved Gordon or not.

  Brigda shrugged her shoulders. “Thank ye,” she said. “Anyway, I had no one. My father kept me very isolated. He would say protected, but it didn’t feel that way.” Brigda was talking with her hands again. “I had a guard at all times.” She looked sharply at Godet then. “But this wasn’t a guard watching after me, for me. I had to ask him permission to dae anything, go anywhere. Not inform him. Ask him. My guard!” She flung her hands up at that and paused then paced faster angrily.

  “Go on,” Godet said.

  “He eventually moved on to other duties and a new guard was assigned to me.” She came to a stop and stared dreamily into space. “He was a wonderful man. I felt safe with him, safe from my father.” She stopped and wrapped her arms tightly around her middle. “I fell in love with him.” She looked at Godet, tears shimmering in her eyes. “My father had him killed,” she said softly. “I understand yer sister Flori’s heartbreak at Mungan killing her betrothed.” She laughed brokenly. “I cannot love any other man. So no, I dae not love Laird MacDonell…” She smiled sadly.

  “Oh, Brigda, I am so very, very, sorry…” Godet whispered.

  “He is yours and I shall help ye to marry him,” Brigda told her sniffling and smiling.

  “Brigda, no. Ye dinnae need to dae that. And I am sure that ye will find great love again,” Godet said, clasping Brigda’s hands.

  “Right now, I am happy to stop acting like such a... tolla-thon,” she said and laughed. “We females need to stick together and make sure we are not pawns in these games men play. Are ye sure Laird MacDonell is not using ye for control of the firth and those ports within it?”

  “I dinnae actually know,” Godet said deep in thought.

  “But ye dae love him and he can’t take his eyes off ye, so no matter whether it gains him land or power or a port for his whiskey, I know he feels strongly about ye.”

  Godet stood there, lost in her thinking as she looked at the exquisite red-haired woman in front of her who she had judged so wrongly. Then she took a deep breath. “Right now, we need to figure out how to keep ye out of Mungan’s hands,” Godet said with determination. She did not want to think about the doubt that was creeping into her thoughts but she could not help herself. Is Gordon interested in me for the location of Fionnaghall? she wondered.

  Later that evening after she had talked further with Brigda, Ceena, Flori, and Ina joined Godet in front of the fire in her room. Godet told them of her conversation with Brigda. The sisters all felt horrible at the way they had treated her, Ina in particular. She blushed in shame at the names she had called Brigda.

  “Ina, hush, we couldnae have known,” Flori said, “she said herself she was trying to be a wretch to push Laird MacDonell away from her. She dinnae want to be marrying him.”

  “I wonder if she can ride actually and maybe fight?” Ceena said musing as she stared into the fire.

  “Why does that matter?” Ina asked.

  Ceena looked at Ina. “If this has all been a pretense because she was being forced into an unwanted marriage, what else was pretense? Five girls is better than four girls.”

  “What dae ye mean Ceena?” Flori asked.

  Godet spoke up, looking sharply at Ceena. “She means that if Brigda can actually ride and perhaps fight, she rides with us.”

  “With us where Godet? I am so confused, quite yer dithering and tell us what ye are thinking,” Ina demanded impatiently.

  “We need to fight Mungan and take back Fionnaghall,” Godet said quietly.

  “Godet! This isnae a collie shangles where ye can just go in there and argue with that bowfin, boggin, skiver, toll-athon until ye have made him see reason and leave. He isnae sound of mind. He’s no bampot, aye, he’s a canny old man he is!” Ina exclaimed.

  “Ina,” said Godet in exasperation, “I dinnae know what a collie shangles is but—”

  “’Tis a quarrel,” Ceena translated for her.

  “Fine, thank ye, Ceena,” Godet said, “I know this isnae a simple quarrel over who has rights to Fionnaghall. And I dae know that he is a... What was it? A bowfin, bampot, boggin, skiver? I dae know he is a canny, conniving man, trust me.”

  “We must fight him,” Ceena declared with clenched fists.

  “Oh dear,” Flori whispered.

  Godet spun away from them. Her head down as she walked over to the massive bed at the other side of the room. She stroked the lovely pale blue coverlet, deep in thought. “There is the problem of Brigda’s father, the MacKenzie,” Godet said to her sisters.

  “We fight them both!” Ceena exclaimed, clenching both of her fists.

  “Dear me,” whispered Flori. She brought a shaking hand to her mouth. “We just fought them on the way back here. I’m not ready for that again.”

  “And ye were magnificent, Flori!” Ceena said proudly.

  “Aye, Flori, ye really were,” Godet added. She had been amazed at her sister charging right beside her, slamming her mare into the Munroe warriors. Flori had fought as if all the pent-up anger and misery and loss that had been held inside her had come raging out in that moment. She had been spectacular and rather frightening. Maybe a little out of control.

  “I lost myself,” Flori whispered. “I wanted to hurt those men.”

  “And ye did! Admirably!” Ceena said proudly.

  “No, I wanted to hurt Mungan and I took it out on those men. ‘Twas wrong,” Flori insisted.

  Godet came over to her and pulled her into a tight hug. “We know. We understand,” she whispered to her. She stepped back and looked at Ceena and Ina, then turned back to Flori. “Those men are extensions of Mungan. Fighting them is not wrong. It is fighting Mungan,” she said quietly and with determination.

  “Godet,” Flori said, “we are still four women, just one more cannot make a difference for us to take on the Munroes and the MacKenzies.”

  “We have quite a few of our own Ross warriors here now with us. If we can gather them and some of the MacDonells, we may have a chance,” Godet explained, stilling her worry at Gordon’s reaction to her going back to Fionnaghall without him.

  “I still dinnae see how Brigda can help us,” Ina said, her lilting voice quizzical.

  “How dae ye think the MacKenzie warriors will react if we have Brigda with us, fighting them?” Godet stated.

  “Oh, ‘tis brilliant
!” Ceena cried. “We shall crush them! What is the plan to get back into Fionnaghall?”

  “Not the sea tunnels again?” Flori said with a shiver. “I cannae face that again nor the sea!”

  “Ceena, we never asked, how was the back tunnel, behind Fionnaghall? Was it clear?” Godet asked in a soft commanding tone.

  “Aye,” Ceena answered, “I got fairly far under the castle before Tristan made me stop and turn around. He wanted more men. There were some caved in areas. What are ye thinking Godet?”

  “We have to take it from the inside. We cannae take Fionnaghall from outside the walls, but we will need Brigda’s help with Laird MacKenzie.”

  Ceena was watching Godet’s face closely. “Ye mean to dae this without Laird MacDonell, dinnae ye?”

  Godet looked hard at her sister. Her hands were in tense fists. “Aye, I dae,” she said firmly.

  “But why Godet? The man is in love with ye, he’ll help,” Ceena said, “not that we need him...”

  “But we dae. We need his men. We cannae dae this without his agreement, much less his assistance,” Flori said as she wrung her hands.

  “Ye cannae say that he is in love with me. The man needs access to a port, be it through the MacKenzie lands or through the Ross lands. We dae this without him. We are going home!”

  Flori, Ceena, and Ina stared at their beautiful older sister. Godet was determined. She stood there valiantly staring back at them. The varied blue colors of the room made her look like a regal princess, standing there before them in her silvery, blue brocade gown with her black curls shining like ink trailing down to her hips. She stood in front of the fireplace, brave and fierce. Her cheekbones blushed rosy pink on the pale cream of her skin and her eyes were alight with the fervor of her determination to take back their home. She was the avenging warrior they knew her to be.

  “Mungan?” Flori said quietly.

  “I think he is already dead…” Godet mused, lightly nibbling on her lush bottom lip.

  Ina stepped forward. Her young angelic face had a disturbing look of triumph on it. It was very at odds with her pale blonde, rippling, and curly hair that fell in clouds to her waist and her bright blue, wide eyes. She looked like a petite angel. Though, a petite bloodthirsty angel. “Dae ye truly think so?” she asked with excitement. “Oh, I surely hope that mockit, manky, mingin, boggin man is gone. Such a sleekit, scunner skiver he is, or was!” she declared almost gleefully.