Abducted
Book 8
Marti Talbott’s Highlander Series
By
Marti Talbott
© 2011 All Rights Reserved
Table of Contents
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
A Time of Madness
CHAPTER I
More Marti Talbott Books
Born the second child of Laird Justin MacGreagor, Paisley was a rare blue-eyed beauty with hair that turned snowy white before she reached her sixteenth birthday. Once rumors spread of her beauty, unmarried men from miles around came just to see her.
Laird Chisholm Graham only spent a few hours with Paisley, but it was enough to know he wanted to make her his wife. Yet, as desperate as her father was to protect her, it was not enough to keep her from being abducted. Who took her and how were they ever going to get her back?
CHAPTER I
IT WAS ABOUT THIS CHILD Laird Justin MacGreagor worried most. She had his determination and her mother’s defined features, but Paisley had something more than most women. Born second eldest, her long hair went from pale yellow to white by the time she reached the age of sixteen. Her hair made her blue eyes mesmerizing and warriors, young and old alike, could not seem to keep from gawking at her. The moment she entered the great hall, a laird’s place of constant clan business, the men quieted just to watch her—a habit Justin found extremely irritating. His daughter liked it even less and often glared at the men or crossed her eyes.
One day two MacDuff brothers mentioned her extraordinary beauty to another man in a marketplace, who told another and another. Word began to spread all across Scotland and Justin MacGreagor’s nightmare had only just begun.
FOR THE MOST PART, life in the MacGreagor clan was pleasant. The forests surrounding their glen offered sufficient hunting and the river behind the village held an abundance of fish. Flocks of sheep supplied mutton for food and wool for their clothing, cows gave them milk and farmers raised vegetables in the adjoining valley. Always there were birds chirping in the trees and the sweet smell of Scots Pine in the forest filled the air when the breeze blew just right.
Old and new cottages bordered meandering paths that met in the wide courtyard in front of the Keep. Two halves of a short stonewall bordered the courtyard and offered a place to sit in the sunshine Scotland normally saw too little of. The gap between the walls began the path down the center of the glen, which was kept clean of animal unpleasantness by older children being punished for various crimes.
There was one thing this clan had that others did not. No one knew from where it came, but an edict had been handed down from generation to generation. It demanded death to any man who intentionally hurt a woman or a child and each new laird swore to uphold it, including Laird Justin MacGreagor.
Well aware of the dangers women faced and that word of his daughter’s attractiveness seemed on the lips of many men, Justin encouraged Paisley to wear some sort of covering on her head when she went outside. She saw no difference between being the only one with white hair and the only one wearing a scarf in summer, but to please him she wore one that hung down to her waist. It matched her green shirt and the new plaid she pleated and tucked under the wide leather belt her brother made for her. Yet she was not partial to wearing any headscarf at all and on this day, she would not have to.
It was indeed a special time in the MacGreagor Glen.
The long summer days were hot and when the crops were finally gathered and the storehouse filled to the brim, the MacGreagors invited members of other clans to a feast.
The women prepared every kind of food including salted fish and beef, yellow carrots, onions, turnips, peas and cabbage. None spared the ginger, pepper, nutmeg and saffron used to please even the most finicky palate. Breads of every kind were made from ground barley, oats, rye and wheat, and at this time of year the feast offered grapes, cherries, plums, apples, nuts, fruit pies and sweet breads. It was a feast fit for kings, soon to be spread out on tables in the courtyard for all to enjoy.
While the women prepared the meal, the men set out the necessary equipment for games in the grasses of the glen. They drove a wooden spike in the ground, marked the appropriate number of paces away from it and set horseshoes in a row to mark the last step a man could take before the toss. Other men brought out wooden targets, some round and some square to determine the best with a bow and arrows, while still more made ready the skills of strength by hauling out heavy logs. In the game, the men first lifted the log with two hands, balanced it on one and made sure it did not tip to one side or the other. The one who could hold it there longer than any other man would be the winner and it was this skill that challenged the men most. Lighter logs gave those not yet fully grown an equal chance to show their skill.
At last, the guests arrived and the games began. For the better part of two hours the men tested their skills, the women applauded or jeered and a panel of three elders announced the winners. The little children played their normal games of Stones for the boys and Queen of Scots for the girls, while the older boys tested their skills by sparring with wooden swords.
Because it was so hot, Justin opened the front and back door allowing a cool breeze to blow through his large, three-story home, and seated his guests at the long table in his colorfully decorated great hall. Not much had changed in this room over the years. One wall displayed old and new weapons of every sort while tapestries adorned the other walls. The long table remained in the middle of the large room together with tall-backed chairs and well-stuffed pillows of every color for guests to sit on. A large hearth at one end kept the place warm in winter and a back door led to a kitchen.
Paisley was not surprised to find herself sitting between Laird Haldane and Laird Graham so she could help her father entertain his guests. She smiled often, sat up straight and paid as much attention to one laird as the other. She even leaned forward often to include Laird Haldane’s wife in the conversation.
Normally on hot days, the women braided their hair and some even piled it on top of their heads, but Paisley was often cold when others were comfortable. She knew the feast would continue into the evening and left her uncovered hair down, except for two small braids on the sides that she tied together with a green string in the back.
Paisley was surprised by her reaction to Laird Chisholm Graham. Even though she had seen him during his occasional visits before, it was never up close and never in a circumstance where she could talk to him. She found him charming, his manners impeccable and his smile oddly exciting. The others at the table talked, and loudly so, but sometimes it was as if no one else was in the room.
Once, when she looked into his fascinating amber eyes a little too long, she forced her attention to his necklace. It was made of leather and the odd shaped square held a collection of rubies and emeralds, with one large diamond in the middle. He wore his shirt open a little at the neck to show off his jewels and before she realized what she was doing, she reached up, brushed her hand against his skin and turned the necklace toward her for a better look.
The hair on his chest was the same golden brown as that on his head and face, she noticed, but when Paisley realized she had touched a man not her husband, she was horrified. She let go of his necklace, avoided his eyes and began a conversation with Laird Haldane on the other side of her.
As soon as the meal was finished and the air cooled, Laird MacGreagor and his guests went outside to join in the celebration. To the tune of the flute player’s music in the co
urtyard, two women tried to teach two men how to dance a new sort of jig and everyone roared with laughter. The men did not seem to mind, although they occasionally stopped to glare at one jeer or another from the crowd. It seemed a hopeless case, but the men kept right on trying and soon others joined and tried to learn.
Laird Graham was never very far away from her and it pleased Paisley. It seemed to please him too, but he was a handsome man, yet unmarried and probably sought after by any number of women. It was always so for a laird, even the unsightly ones and Chisholm Graham was anything but unsightly. Just now, however, he seemed to be all hers and she lavished in his company. When she drifted away to gain a better view of the dancers, he drifted with her and when she next had something to remark upon, he was near enough to hear her and respond.
They laughed together, rolled their eyes at the same time, and when Laird Graham suggested they sneak a slice of honey bread out from under the watchful eye of a woman determined not to let the children eat them all, she became a willing conspirator. It was not hard to do, for a handsome man was admired by all women, no matter her age, and while he distracted the unsuspecting woman, Paisley grabbed the slice, walked away and went to the other side of the crowd. Soon he was beside her, joined in her laughter and ate the stolen bread she shared with him.
For Paisley, it was the most glorious evening of her life. Too soon, the dancing ended, the visitors rode away and the MacGreagors settled down for a good night’s sleep. Years before, the second floor of the three-story keep had been divided into two bedchambers and a sitting room, but with six children, the sitting room became another bedchamber for two of the boys. Paisley shared a room with her sister, Leslie, until Leslie married and now their bedchamber was all hers. Her father and mother occupied the third floor, but after Deora died giving birth to her sixth child, Justin hardly spent any time there. Her death was devastating to them all but in time he regained his good humor, as did his children.
Yet it was at times such as this, Paisley wished she could share the moment with her mother, or even her sister and perhaps stay up talking far into the night. Alas, Leslie had a husband and there was no one to talk to just now, so she looked out the window for a while longer and then went to bed.
LAIRD CHISHOLM GRAHAM lived less than an hour north of the MacGreagors and an easy path took him and his six-man guard across the river and through the narrow passageway between two hills. Once that was accomplished, the first of three well-traveled paths took him northwest toward home.
In the long days of summer, darkness fell for only a few hours a night, the horses knew the way and his men had consumed enough wine to make them less talkative.
Starting tomorrow, Chisholm guessed, his men would try lifting logs more often, so they could compete better the next time they were invited to join in the MacGreagor games. The thought made him smile. He remained considerably more sober than his men and with good reason—a man, even a laird, could not hope to impress the woman he found fascinating with slurred words and improper manners.
Her smiles and laughter greatly pleased him and it wasn’t long before he decided he wanted to see those smiles and hear that laughter far more often. The question was: how long should he wait before he went back?
A WEEK LATER, LAIRD Graham had not come back and Paisley began to believe that instead of preferring her, he had only been pleasant for her father’s sake.
Of her four younger brothers, one was far more enjoyable and sometimes far more bothersome than the other three. Justin named his eldest son Alisdair but the clan called him Sawney. He was the closest to her same age and seemed always to be in her way. Still, she was two years older and maintained at least a little control over him.
He was tall for his age and would likely be his father’s same six feet, five inches by the time he was grown. He would look like Justin too, with dark hair and blue eyes, which would cause him to be sought after by women, if he ever managed to get beyond his awkward stage.
“God help the lass you marry,” Paisley muttered as each step took them farther away from the village. Lately, Justin demanded that she not walk alone, even in the long, wide glen, for fear someone might take her, and this day, Sawney was her designated companion.
“I fear the same for your husband,” Sawney said. He loved his sister and liked her too. She was often wise, usually even-tempered and did not mind answering his constant stream of questions. He saw nothing exceptional in her appearance, but if other men did, Sawney had no doubt she needed to be looked after. Every time he escorted her, it made him feel protective and all grown up.
“Sawney that is the third time you have bumped into me. Move over a pace or two.”
He took two steps sideways and mockingly bowed. “As my lady wishes,” he said in English instead of Gaelic.
Paisley rolled her eyes and kept walking. The spring flowers had come and gone, the morning was not yet too warm and the lower half of the glen held plenty of lush grass for their herd of horses to feed on. The cows grazed in an adjoining meadow and when she looked, the sheep were feasting on a faraway hillside.
Paisley’s long shirt and pleated plaid were the same green as the trees in the forest except for the light blue threads woven between the green squares. On this day, she wore her matching scarf and new shoes that fit well.
“What, no argument?” Sawney asked. “Speaking English most often causes you great discomfort, though I cannot guess why.”
She answered in English just to prove she could. “‘Tis unnatural to speak it and I have yet to fully grasp why father makes us learn it still. Mother was English and often needed help with Gaelic words, but now that she has passed, the teaching is useless.”
“You are right, as usual.”
Paisley stopped walking and suspiciously eyed her brother. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing, nothing at all. Someday we might have a need, but I have said that many times and I suspect you tire of hearing it.” He was up to something and decided he might as well get it over with. Sawney was growing so fast, the bottom of his kilt barely touched his knees and soon he would need a new pair of shoes with straps long enough to lace up his calves. “Sister, do you wish to marry?”
“Well, I would like very much to live in a cottage instead of the Keep where I must walk past all the lads to go outside.” She sighed. “Father will not allow it until I take a husband, therefore I must marry.”
Sawney clasped his hands behind his back and started them walking again. “But you would not marry just any lad, would you?”
“I’d not marry the candle maker that is certain. Nor do I fancy a lad without humor, wit or one who does not favor me often with a pleasant smile.”
“I have heard Thomas fancies you.”
She wrinkled her brow. “Which one? We have three lads named Thomas and four named William. Are there not enough other names?”
“The Thomas I mention is a hunter and a very good one at that. You would do well to let him court you, for many a lass thinks him handsome.”
“Some call you handsome as well, it means nothing.”
Sawney wasn’t certain if he should be flattered or insulted. As they walked, he often looked at the others in the glen until he was sure he recognized them, but Paisley wasn’t in any real danger there. Although there were trees easy to hide behind on both sides, MacGreagor guards were posted at short intervals so they could notify the clan of strangers, wild boars or any other danger. Fortunately, there had been no whistles signaling danger in weeks.
Paisley glanced at the corral where the stallions were kept away from the mares, noticed all the men watching her and chose to leave the path in favor of a row of logs on the opposite side of the glen. It was near the graveyard but it was her best choice. At least dead men did not gawk.
Beyond a sister, a new brother-in-law and four brothers, she had four sets of aunts and uncles and enough cousins to make a clan of their own. “Brother, do you always want to live here? I mean, I often wi
sh we could just ride away and find a new home.”
He smiled. “I doubt it would help. A bonnie lass is a bonnie lass no matter where she is, and lads will always want to look at her.”
She sat down on a log and folded her arms. “I am cursed.”
“If you must pity someone, pity me for I am my father’s eldest son.”
“Do you fear becoming Laird someday?”
“Fear it, nay. All the same, Father regrets it and so did Grandfather, I am told.” He lifted his right foot and rested it on top of the log.
“If that be the case, once I am married we will encourage Father to ask the clan to choose another laird. Then he and all four of his sons can live in a small cottage like the rest of the people. Would you find that to your liking?”
“To spend more time with Father, I would live in a cart.”
Paisley giggled. “Done then...as soon as I marry.”
He returned her mischievous grin. “What shall Father become; a hunter, a guard or perhaps a tanner of hides?”
“I say we let him get his fill of fishing first. ‘Tis that he loves most.”
“As do I. An entire day fishing with Father without interruption, would be a dream come true, even if he demands we take my brothers with us.”
“Would he truly relent though? I...”
Just then, a faint whistle at the small end of the glen interrupted them.
“Strangers,” said Sawney. He stood up straight and reached out his hand. “To the forest, my lady.” As soon as she got up, he hurried her across the graveyard, through the thick bushes and into the trees. Then they both laughed and relaxed.
Approaching strangers was not an uncommon occurrence, especially now with all the gossip about Paisley. At first, her father allowed men to meet her, but lately Justin wanted none of them to see her and Paisley was beginning to spend more time in hiding than anywhere else. Even when the women went to bathe in the loch, he dared not let her go. Instead, she used the bathing basin brought some years past from England. Nevertheless, she loved to swim and even the privilege of bathing in private seemed just another place to hide.
Abducted, Book 8 Page 1
