A Knight For Her Highland Heart (Scottish Highlander Romance)

by Barbara Bard

  “Nae a thing could be further from the truth. Lord Henry engaged in terrible acts that resulted in the death of nae only our people but his as well. He was killed in an act of self-defense—nothing mair.”

  “As I stated,” Sir Jessup said, “the man was still a member of the crown. Even if he slaughtered countless innocents, it is still up to our king to decide what his fate should have been.”

  “Then what is it ye request of us?”

  Sir Jessup took a moment. “We will allow this transgression tae pass,” he said. “But we ask that you pay handsomely for it.”

  “How?”

  “With half of the possessions that your village possesses—coin, food, and otherwise.”

  Gavina huffed. “Ye hae naw idea what ye are asking.”

  “Oh, but I do. And my terms are more than fair, considering the circumstances.”

  Gavina sat back. “Half of our supplies.”

  A nod. “Half.”

  Lachlan shook his head. “The man is insane.”

  “I’d advise you to mind your tongue, sir,” Sir Jessup said. “You are speaking to an Englishman.”

  “That title means nae a thing to me.”

  “Lachlan,” Gavina interjected, a hand on his arm. “That is enough.”

  Lachlan sat back and said nothing further.

  Gavina took a moment to think through Sir Jessup’s proposal, her gaze shifting to Christian for a quick moment and feeling a brief bit of alleviation. “It will be difficult,” she said. “But I believe I can convince me people tae agree tae yer terms.”

  Sir Jessup smiled. “That is good…but it is not the end of our negotiations.”

  Gavina threw up her hands. “Well, what mair dae ye request?”

  Lord Torstein looked at Sir Jessup. “Quite a fair question,” he said, “because I was under the impression that this was all we were requesting of the Bairds.”

  Sir Jessup wagged his finger. “Not quite. So much more needs to be discussed in terms of the Baird’s transgressions.”

  “What transgressions dae ye speak of?” Gavina said. “Other than this instance with Lord Henry, we hae done nae a thing mair than protect ourselves from the slaughter yer people hae brought upon us.”

  Sir Jessup smiled—and he held it for quite some time. But this smile was different, more devious than the times he had done it before in the presence of Gavina’s company. It was a lecherous smile, one filled with ill-intent that instantly put all of those around on edge.

  “Do you take me for a fool?” he finally said.

  Gavina furled her brow. “What dae ye mean?”

  Lord Torstein grabbed Sir Jessup by the arm. “What is the meaning of this?”

  Sir Jessup shook off Lord Torstein’s grip. “These Highlanders,” he said, “have made a fool out of the crown. I have attempted to keep up this charade for as long as possible, but I fear that I can no longer pretend to be comfortable in their presence…”

  Lachlan gripped the handle of his sword with a grip that made his hand cramp. Gavina could sense his eagerness to draw his weapon, but she subtly shook her head to remind him that nothing would be done until she gave the order.

  Christian, just as worried as the rest, found himself compelled to step in. “My lords,” he said. “Perhaps—”

  “Silence your mouth, boy,” Sir Jessup said, seething. “You are just as culpable as these Highlanders.” He leveled his gaze at Lord Torstein. “And you as well, my good man.”

  Lord Torstein could sense that the inevitable was about to play out and shook his head defiantly. “Sir Jessup,” he said. “I do not know what you are pining at, but whatever it is, I request that you back down off of it.”

  Sir Jessup shook his head. “No…No, I no longer wish to indulge in this ruse.” He gestured to Gavina and Lachlan. “These people have made a fool of us for quite too long, and you as well.” He leaned all the way in. “And the time has come to denounce the shame they have brought upon us!” He yelled the word ‘denounce’ as loud as his voice could carry, and two seconds later—a group of four knights dressed in polished armor with swords at the ready entered the tavern.

  Lachlan withdrew his sword and pushed Gavina behind him. Christian stepped toward the knights as Lord Torstein attempted to stand in Sir Jessup’s path.

  “What is this?” Lord Torstein hollered. “What is this insanity, Sir Jessup?”

  “This insanity,” Sir Jessup said, “is my attempt at bringing this campaign to a close.” He looked to Lachlan. “Come now, boy. Do not attempt to fight my best men. It shall only end in your demise.”

  “Do it now,” Lachlan whispered to Gavina. “Give the signal.”

  She shook her head. “Just wait…” she whispered back.

  Christian looked at Gavina. “I am not a part of this!” he pleaded. “I did not know—”

  “Silence!” Sir Jessup hollered as the other patrons in the tavern quickly trickled out through the entrance.

  All those who remained—the knights, Sir Jessup, Christian, Lord Torstein, Gavina, and Lachlan—squared off and moved into fighting stances. The knights edged closer—and the Bairdsmen waiting across the way waited for Gavina to give the signal.

  “I will request this once,” Sir Jessup said as his knights posted up behind him. “Surrender your weapons and come with us. If you do not—we shall slay you where you stand.”

  Gavina shook her head, casting a subtle look over her shoulder as Lord Torstein and his knights moved closer to the window toward her. “Ye fool,” she said. “Ye hae severely underestimated the Bairds.”

  Sir Jessup laughed. “Last chance.”

  Gavina looked at Christian and saw that he was in clear view of the window and the inn across the way. “I suggest ye move, Christian,” she said as she raised her hand. “I dinnae think ye will like what happens next.”

  Sir Jessup sighed. “So be it.” He looked at his knights. “Kill them.”

  And with that—Gavina held up two fingers and gave the signal. As the first knight on the left raised his sword and prepared to strike—and arrow buried itself into his chest, as if it had appeared out of nothing. His knees then buckled, he fell to the floor, and Sir Jessup gritted his teeth as he ordered the other knights to charge.

  One of the knights removed his bow and arrow and lined up a shot at Gavina’s chest.

  “No!” Christian protested as he drew his sword and stood in front of Gavina.

  The arrow flew and buried itself into Christian’s side. He fell, Lachlan then jumping over him and burying the tip of his broadsword into the archer’s chest.

  Gavina, concerned for Christian, looked at Lord Torstein as he withdrew his sword and quickly dispatched of the third knight who tried to move in and land a blow at Gavina’s neck. Moments after, another arrow flew through the window and landed in Sir Jessup’s leg. He howled, falling to the floor as the last knight grabbed him by the collar and hauled him out of the tavern.

  “Come,” Lord Torstein said to Gavina. “We must dispose of Sir Jessup, or else all is lost.”

  Lord Torstein rushed out of the tavern as Gavina helped Christian to his feet. “Come,” she said. “We maist gae.”

  Christian, his face turning pale, looked up at Gavina with a pleading set of eyes. “Please…” he said. “I don’t want to die…”

  Outside of the tavern, Sir Jessup mounted his steed as Sir Renly, waiting in the wings, hugged the corner of a wall outside the tavern and waited for Lord Torstein to emerge. Seconds later, Lord Torstein exited the tavern and felt a vicious searing pain across the side of his face as Sir Renly knocked him out cold with a punch to the jaw. Sir Renly then went back into a defensive posture, awaiting the arrival of Gavina’s reinforcements that he was sure would arrive at any moment. Surely enough— Glenn rounded the corner first, his sword raised and ready to strike—but he was quickly stabbed in the stomach and fell to the ground as another knight waiting in the rear with a bow and arrow being firing off at Tessa and Ava.


  “Grab him!” Sir Jessup hollered as he pointed at Glenn. “We take him with us.”

  Sir Renly hauled Glenn up and brought him over to a horse, securing him as the archer supporting him fired arrow after arrow to keep the Highlanders suppressed. As soon as Sir Jessup, Sir Renly, and Glenn had mounted their horses, Sir Jessup ordered the retreat as Ava then killed the archer that was keeping them back with an arrow through his head.

  Sir Jessup and his remaining men fled, Ava and Tessa rushing into the tavern where Gavina was hauling out a bleeding Christian with his arm hooked around her neck.

  Lachlan, wiping the blood from his sword, looked at the other Bairdsmen with a pensive gaze. “Where are they?” he said. “Where are the Sassenach?”

  Ava shook her head. “They fled—Lord Torstein, Jessup, and the other man with them.”

  “Where is Glenn?” Gavina inquired.

  Tessa hung her head. “They took him…” she said with a depleted tone.

  Gavina, heart racing and nerves on edge, shook her head. I failed, she scolded inside her head. I failed…

  Chapter 10

  “We maist gae,” Gavina said. “We maist gae back tae the village.”

  Lachlan gestured to Christian. “And what of him?”

  Gavina took a beat. “He stays with us.”

  “Gavina—” Ava went to protest.

  “Mount yer horses,” Gavina cut her off. “Now. Secure this man tae a saddle.”

  “What of Glenn?” Tessa inquired.

  Gavina shut her eyes. “We cannae dae anything fer him as of noo.”

  “But Gavina—”

  “We will find him. We will bring him back. This tae ye all I swear. But we maist gae, noo. We dinnae ken if Sir Jessup has any reinforcements coming after us. Move! Noo!”

  Without further delay, the Bairdsmen, with Christian with them, mounted their horses, set out for the horizon, and never looked back.

  Sir Jessup was seated in his quarters back in his castle. Sir Renly was tending to his wound, sweating profusely from the hectic and quick ride that Sir Jessup insisted they take to return to their fortress in double the time it usually took.

  “It is merely a flesh wound, Sir Jessup,” Sir Renly said, wrapping the wound. “You might have a slight limp, but it will heal fine.”

  Sir Jessup was gritting his teeth. “Where is Lord Torstein?”

  “Shackled in the catacombs, sir.”

  “And the Highlander we took with us?”

  “He is beside him.”

  “Are they well-guarded?”

  “I have two knights standing watch—they will not be going anywhere.”

  Sir Jessup reached for the wine that he had requested and took a swig to take the edge off of the pain. He was stewing, still flustered from the recent events and thinking through the options carefully of how to proceed next. “Bastards,” he seethed. “This is not the end of this.”

  “What shall we do? How do you wish to proceed?”

  Sir Jessup took a long swig of his wine. “We will question Lord Torstein and the Highlander. We will find the location of the Bairds and destroy them as soon as we know their location.” He slammed his fist on the table next to him, spilling his wine. “This is despicable. I cannot fathom the failure that we have endured.”

  “It is not a failure, Sir Jessup. It is merely a setback.”

  Sir Jessup pointed a finger. “I do not experience setbacks, Sir Renly. I only indulge in successes.”

  “Time shall prove to be on our side, Sir. We shall make things right.” He finished wrapping the wound. “There. You shall mend well.”

  Sir Jessup stood, batting away Sir Renly’s hands to prove that he could stand on his own two feet. “Come,” he said. “I wish to speak to Lord Torstein and the Highlander.”

  They made their way to the catacombs, escorted by two other knights as they rounded their way down a spiral staircase and came to a large oak door secured with thick locks. “Open it,” Sir Jessup commanded.

  One of the knights inserted a key and led Sir Jessup inside a cramped room with no windows and a damp cobblestone floor. Chained to the floor a few feet from one another was Lord Torstein, bruised and bloodied, his eyes bloodshot and weary as he looked up at Sir Jessup with a seething gaze. Glenn, his wounds having been tended to by another knight, bobbed and weaved his head in an attempt to stay conscious.

  Sir Jessup clapped his hands. “Awake, my dear friends,” he said, “for we have much to discuss.”

  Lord Torstein drew a deep breath. “Traitor…” he said with a weary depletion in his tone.

  Sir Jessup came up to Lord Torstein, their noses practically touching. “You,” he said, “do not get to make such claims! You are the traitor, my lord! You are the one who has betrayed the crown.”

  Glenn laughed; his strength depleted but his spirit nonetheless holding strong. “See,” he said, nodding to Sir Jessup’s wound. “That is what happens when ye trifle with the Baird clan.”

  Sir Jessup smiled—and then he threw a punch into Glenn’s jaw and practically knocked him out cold. “Quite the spirit you have,” he said. “But it will not serve you well for much longer.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Lord Torstein inquired.

  “A foolish question,” Sir Jessup said, getting down on one knee, wincing from the pain in his leg.

  “What do you want?”

  “Is that not obvious? I wish to know the location of the Baird clan. And one of you will give it to me.”

  Lord Torstein shook his head. “I shall never reveal such things.”

  “You can say that now, but rest assured, I will make sure that you are properly persuaded.”

  “We shall give ye nae a thing!” Glenn protested. “The location of me clan will remain a secret until I draw me very last breath.”

  “So be it,” Sir Jessup said. “If that is what you wish.” He turned to Sir Renly and whispered. “How grave are their wounds?”

  “Quite significant,” Sir Renly said. “We have mended them as best as possible, but proper assistance must be given.”

  Sir Jessup thought through the options. “Fetch me someone who is well-versed in medicine,” he said. “Is there anyone on hand that can be of service?”

  Sir Renly shook his head. “No one in our employ, Sir Jessup.”

  “Then find someone.”

  One of the knights behind them took a step forward. “I know of someone, Sir.”

  Sir Jessup turned his gaze to the knight. “Is that so?”

  A nod. “Yes, Sir. There is a maiden in a local village. She has tended to our knights on more than one occasion.”

  “Then fetch her. Now. I want these men in good health for as long as possible.”

  Another nod. “Yes, sir,” the knight said before retreating from the room.

  Sir Jessup once more approached Lord Torstein and Glenn. “You two,” he said, “have no idea what is in store for you.”

  Glenn laughed. “I hae felt plenty of pain in me life, ye Sassenach bastard. There is nae a thing ye can dae tae make me speak.”

  “Oh, I very much doubt that. Ye Highlander scum hae never been in the company of a man as well-versed as me in the art of torture. I will find out where your clan dwells. You will tell me what I wish to know. I shall bring you to the cusp of death, I shall make you suffer for every transgression that you have committed. Once I have broken you, once I have showed you what the true pains of this world feels like—only then will I depart you from your mortal coils.”

  With that, Sir Jessup turned and left the room, Sir Renly following behind him and ordering the knights in the room to keep a close eye on Glenn and Lord Torstein as they closed and locked the door behind them.

  Lord Torstein looked to Glenn with a pleading set of eyes, shaking the shackles he was bound to as his heart raced and the worst fears he could imagine began to flood his mind. “Stay strong, my friend,” he bid Glenn. “We shall make our way through this in one piece.”

&nbs
p; Glenn shook his head and looked at Lord Torstein as if he were the man responsible for the predicament that they were in. “I am nae yer friend, Sassenach Lord. I am on me own.”

  Lord Torstein hung his head, concerned for his life and nervous to his wits end at whatever was going to play out next.

  Far from Sir Jessup’s castle and the catacombs that Lord Torstein and Glenn were imprisoned in, Isla Baird sat at her husband Finlay’s side as he sat up in his bed and winced in pain.