The Highland Knight's Revenge

by Lori Ann Bailey

  The red-and-black knight attacking Giric lunged again, and this time hit his side. The impact brought him back to the immediate danger. Giric couldn’t save his mission, or Edward, until he fought off the man determined to bring him down.

  The red and black knight charged again, but this time, instead of deflecting the threat, Giric slid to the side. His opponent lost his balance and stumbled forward. Giric came down and sliced the blade of his sword across the back of the man’s thigh, where his armor didn’t protect the sensitive flesh. His opponent fell to the ground as blood streamed from the wound.

  Giric watched for a moment to assess the damage. The knight writhed on the ground, holding onto his injury. It was a deep cut, but the knight quite likely would live, though he’d never be the same.

  Turning back to his original target, Giric spotted the other knight pulling the helmet from Edward’s head. As it slid off, Giric saw that Edward was dazed and couldn’t focus on his opponent. Blood dripped from his mouth. The attacker’s helm allowed a good view of the man’s twisted grin. He said something to Edward, but from his position, the words were inaudible to Giric. Then the other knight drew back with the axe.

  The arse was going to kill him.

  “Nae,” Giric yelled.

  Edward’s attacker turned his attention toward Giric for a brief moment, then shook his head and continued to raise the weapon.

  Giric reacted on instinct, charging the man and knocking him off Edward. The ax flew through the air and landed a few feet away. They rolled, and the attacker managed to land on top. The crazed knight drew back with his arm and came down hard with a fisted gauntlet on Giric’s helm. The punch slid off to the side, but the impact was brutal, and a buzz vibrated in his ears.

  Giric blinked, then took a quick deep breath. Drawing on his reserves and his training, he focused on getting the larger man off of him. Giric lifted his leg, swung it to the side, then planted his foot behind the attacker’s ankle, pinning it in place. Then he pushed up with his other leg as he rose with his hip and flipped the man onto his back.

  The man in green and white threw his arms in the air to knock Giric off, but Giric remained seated on the man’s chest, keeping him pinned to the ground. As he blocked punches, Giric was able to reach behind his thigh and pull free the dirk he kept strapped to the back of his leg. His gloved hand almost dropped it when the man landed a jab to Giric’s face.

  He secured his grip, then leaned down and plunged the knife into the man’s thigh where his chainmail didn’t protect him. A furious roar came from the injured man’s chest. Giric withdrew the blade.

  The green-and-white knight bucked and swung again, throwing his pelvis into Giric and almost knocking him off. As he continued to struggle, Giric managed to grasp the edge of the gorget on the man’s helm, pull it up, and plunge the knife between his breastplate and helm. The man stopped fighting and reached for his neck, writhing in pain.

  Climbing off the man, who Giric guessed would no longer be a threat, he turned his attention to Edward. The baron’s son remained prone and dazed on the ground. Giric had only just been in time to save his life.

  Lifting the injured Englishman, he lay Edward across his horse, then gathered his own warhorse. Giric made his way toward the refuge to see who would be there to bargain with. He was prepared to hand Edward over in exchange for the baron.

  Victory was at hand.

  Chapter 15

  Jennet rushed through the refuge, looking for any sign of her brother or her Scottish knight. Her pulse pounded, and every part of her ached by the time Lord Roger stepped out in front of her. She didn’t want to see him right now, but he might be her best hope of finding Eddie.

  “Lord Roger.” She curtsied, and he took her trembling hand.

  “Ah, Lady Jennet. It is good to see you today.” Plastered on his face was a smug smile that she could only describe as victorious.

  She shivered and tried to pull away, but he held tight. “I must find my brother. Have you seen him?”

  “I’m afraid it’s not good news.” Roger shook his head.

  Her heart fell into her belly, and her breath stilled.

  She shook her head, and her eyes began to sting, but before she could ask, he continued, “He has been captured.”

  She inhaled. He was alive.

  “But there is no need for you to worry. I am taking care of everything. I have arranged the trade.”

  “What trade?” She drew her shoulders back and yanked her fingers free.

  “I will give the barbarian yer ailing father in exchange for Edward. I doubt the brute knows your sire is on death’s door anyway.”

  She gasped.

  “No. You can’t make that decision.” Her worry transformed into fury, and her hands fisted. He had no right to bargain away her father.

  “Has Edward not told you?”

  She shook her head, afraid to hear what was about to spill from Lord Roger’s overbearing lips.

  “Ah, he has been quite busy.” Roger picked at his nails, then put his hands by his sides before meeting her gaze. “He and I made an arrangement. You are to become my wife tonight, so I am the only one here who can bargain for his safe return.”

  “What?” Her stomach twisted, and her fingers shook with a combination of dread and anger.

  “You are not my betrothed.” She could feel the heat rising in her chest. “Eddie wouldn’t do that to me.”

  “Aye, he would. We jousted over it, and I won. He had no choice but to relent. Besides, you and I will suit well.” Was that why Eddie had been foolish enough to take on Lord Roger?

  Would her brother do such a thing? There had been something he’d wanted to tell her before he and Ada fell ill, something he’d known she wouldn’t be pleased with. How had he done this? She was supposed to be free to make her own choice.

  This was all wrong, and she had to find Eddie and tell him this match was impossible. She had her heart set on Giric.

  “I cannot marry you. I love another.”

  Roger’s face hardened. “That doesn’t matter. You will be my obedient wife. The bargain was struck.”

  “No. Where is Eddie? He can set this right. I will not marry you.”

  “You will, and if you expect me to free him from the Scottish knight, you will stop arguing now. We shall go back to the castle, draw up the paperwork, and send for your father straightaway.” His hand clasped her arm, digging in and pulling her toward the castle.

  She didn’t fight as Lord Roger’s words clawed at her, as the weight of them settled on her chest. Her breath stilled, and her body went numb. She felt ill.

  “Scottish knight?” she asked as her whole being began to tremble.

  “Aye. The man who captured Edward. His name is Giric de Beaumont MacDonald. He has ties to the Scottish throne.”

  No. She couldn’t believe it. The world tilted, and she thought for a moment, she might fall to the ground. Lord Roger had to be mistaken, but pieces of their conversations started to fall into place.

  She had to find Giric. This couldn’t be true. Her honorable knight wouldn’t do this to her.

  Taking a deep breath, she asked, “Where are they?”

  “At the west end of the refuge, but you don’t need to see that right now. The sight is not fit for a gentle lady. I will escort you back, and we’ll take care of everything.”

  “No.” She pulled her arm free and ran for her brother and her knight.

  The sun was now high in the sky, and the heat bit into Giric as he waited for word that the Earl of Bruton had sent for Edward Linton’s father. Lord Roger Nash claimed he could speak on the family’s behalf by virtue of being betrothed to Edward’s sister. Although still dazed, Edward didn’t protest the claim.

  A small bit of doubt crept in at not dealing directly with the Linton family, but Giric had heard the conversations where an arrangement had been made. He knew the tale to be true.

  “I had some ale brought. Drink this.” Giric handed the glass to
Edward, who was just starting to seem lucid again. Blood had seeped from the man’s split lip to his blue-and-gold surcoat. Although he was only mildly injured, the blood loss made him appear as if he could be on death’s doorstep.

  “Why did you challenge me?” Edward’s words were slightly slurred.

  “I told ye. My father was killed by yer sire.”

  “No. That couldn’t be true. He hates violence.” Edward shook his head in a truly impressive display of disbelief.

  “It is.”

  As time ticked by, he wondered if he’d have assurances in writing by the evening so that he could find Jennet. He longed to hold her in his arms. Reaching beneath his armor, he drew out the kerchief she’d given him. He held it to his nose and inhaled. Although his sweat now tainted it, the rose and sandalwood scent still lingered.

  Edward’s eyes sharpened and focused in on the cloth. “Where’d you get that?”

  He smiled and held it over his heart. “From the lady that I intend to marry.”

  Edward’s head tilted, and he appeared confused again. “And what is this lady’s name?”

  He almost didn’t say, but he felt a respect for this man, who had been brave enough to meet him on the field and attempt to set matters right.

  “Jennet.” Just saying her name felt like repeating a sacred oath that made his insides quaver with anticipation.

  The color in Edward’s cheeks drained, and his jaw fell open.

  “You are the Scottish knight.” The words left Edward’s lips, but they were almost a whisper, and if they hadn’t been close, Giric wouldn’t have heard.

  “Aye. I’m Scottish.”

  “And you wish to marry the lass that belongs to.” Edward nodded at the material.

  “Aye. She has agreed.”

  “After today, she will change her mind.” There was steel in the man’s voice now, a certainty that hadn’t been there before.

  Giric blinked as dread forked through him. How would this man know such a thing? Something cold took root in his chest.

  “Nae. We have already agreed.” He traced the gold and blue flowers she’d sewn with her dainty hands. His eyes caught on the initials she’d stitched in the corner, “JL.”

  “But that was before you challenged her brother and held him ransom for her father’s life.”

  Giric’s throat closed, and his eyes blurred as he again took note of the colors on Edward’s tunic. They were the same as the cloth in his hand, except they were now stained with blood.

  This was Eddie.

  His victory turned bitter and hollow.

  Chapter 16

  Jennet broke free from Roger and ran for her brother. The earl was wrong or playing some jest on her. He was angry at her for her refusal of his offer.

  But when she reached the edge of the refuge, she saw Giric sitting on the ground. She almost smiled until she noticed he was holding her kerchief. He shook his head, and she followed his intent eyes as they landed on her brother.

  Edward’s surcoat was covered in blood. The contents of her stomach threatened to spill. Her feet carried her forward, but something in her screamed for her to stop and turn around. A voice inside pleaded with her to sprint back to the castle and forget what she’d seen and heard.

  Giric glanced up and saw her. He covered his face, then ran his hands through his hair as if he were trying to deny what was plain before her.

  He stood and reached out to her. She backed as tears streamed down her cheeks. She thought to wipe them away, but what good would it do? She knew they wouldn’t cease. His gaze traveled between her and Eddie.

  Her eyes rested on Giric and stayed as her heart jumped to the next conclusion. She’d been part of his plan. Her heart split in two at that moment. The faith she’d placed in this man shattered like pottery. She’d trusted her freedom to him. She’d given him her heart.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but the words refused to dislodge from her tongue. Then talons were again gripping her arm, and she found Lord Roger at her side. She turned to him and attempted to pull free, but his grip was firm.

  “Unhand her.” The snarl came from Giric.

  Grounded and filled with anger at Lord Roger, she was able to turn back to her knight, who now had his fingers curled around the hilt of his sword like he was ready to unsheathe it and attack at any moment. She felt helpless; all her independence gone in one moment.

  She would have to marry Lord Roger, and Giric was going to take his revenge on her family.

  What had he said that night in his bed?

  “I want the baron’s family to suffer as mine has.”

  She uttered the awful conclusion. “I was part of your plan.” Her voice shook, and her throat closed as a sob escaped. When her knees wobbled, she would have fallen had the earl not been holding her up.

  He was her knight. He’d saved her and proven she could trust him. She’d freely given him everything—her favor, her faith, her body.

  Had it been his plan to break her heart, or had he just intended to use her to get to Eddie and her father?

  “Jennet.” Giric inched forward again, his eyes confused. As if he’d not known who she was. Pretending to care…as if he’d not been trying to destroy her family all along. And the worst part of it was, she wanted him to wrap her in his arms and tell her it was all a mistake. She wanted to believe in the man who had harmed her brother and desired to see her father dead. What was wrong with her?

  “No.” She held up the palm that wasn’t detained by Roger’s grip.

  “I didnae ken. I swear, I didnae.” His voice sounded lost in the shouts that continued on around them.

  She shook her head. He was lying. He had to be.

  Lord Roger cut in. “Come, Jennet. I have already worked out the details.”

  “No. Let go of me. You have no say in this matter.” She tried once more to pull free.

  “Tell her, Edward. We are to be wed. We have a deal.” His glare darted between Eddie and her.

  She let her gaze travel to her brother, who couldn’t meet her eyes. Bile rose in her chest. It was true. Eddie had taken away her choice, the one thing she’d always been assured was in her own hands. Not that it mattered now, anyway. She’d chosen poorly.

  Giric was not the man she’d believed him to be.

  Pulling back her shoulders, she tried to preserve some kind of dignity, but it was truly too late because she felt like a ship beaten by the waves and rocks of a treacherous shore. Now she floated about without sails, devoid of a purpose, lost. These three men had taken from her what had been promised.

  Her gaze locked on Giric. “Was I part of your revenge? Did you take me to your bed to get back at my family?” She choked out the words.

  Giric shook his head.

  The grip on her arm tightened to a painful pinch, and she felt Roger stiffen.

  Her chest burned as if a fire had been set within its walls. “You are just like my uncle. You have let revenge consume you and destroy everything.”

  Giric stepped forward and reached out with the hand that had held her so gently just the day before. “Jennet.” Her name left his lips, and what stung the worst was that she still wanted to run to him.

  He looked as if he wished to stroke her cheek and tell her that all would be well and that he would care for her. How had he become so good at lying? She gave him one last chance.

  “Let Eddie go.”

  “Ye dinnae ken what ye ask.” His eyes hardened.

  Aye. She did. She knew exactly what she was asking.

  He shook his head. And there it was, his revenge meant more than her. For some reason, he believed her father had killed his. It couldn’t be true, but anger was a bitter, consuming thing.

  No matter how honorable men thought it to be, retribution destroyed everything good.

  He wanted a justice that would soothe his soul, but it wouldn’t change the past. It wasn’t because she didn’t care for him; it was because she cared too much that she said, “I never want
to see you again.”

  Two men came up between her and Giric. The earl’s guards.

  Then the grip on her arm loosened as Lord Roger turned to her and latched onto her chin. He squeezed so hard that she winced and gasped as his nails dug into her cheeks. “No one lies to me.” He glowered and tilted nearer to hiss into her ear. “You told me you’d not given yourself to anyone.”

  “Let her go,” Giric called, sounding closer. She glanced over to see the earl’s men blocked his progression and had swords drawn toward him.

  “You may have command over her brother currently, but she is mine.” Lord Roger’s controlled fury belted back at Giric.

  “Take her back and guard her in my room until I arrive.” Only one man had dared lay a hand on her before without her permission—her uncle, the day her father had come for her. And if she’d not fought back later that day, her older brother would still be alive.

  She couldn’t rebel against Lord Roger until she knew Eddie was safe.

  She let Lord Roger’s men cart her away because he was the only man that could free her brother, even if her father wouldn’t spend his last days at peace with family. Eddie had his whole life ahead of him.

  A shiver ran down her spine. Lord Roger was cold and aloof, but this was the first time she was actually afraid of him.

  Giric’s fists clenched at his sides. In all the years of anger he’d held onto about his father’s demise, he’d never felt a rage so hot as when he’d seen the Earl of Bruton squeeze Jennet’s chin and hiss at her. He hadn’t heard what the man had said, but he’d seen the fear in her eyes. He’d stepped forward to defend her, but the earl’s men had pulled their swords and stood between them.

  As the men drew Jennet away, the earl turned to him, a smug look on his face. “I’ll still honor our deal, but Lady Jennet is mine.”

  Giric started toward him. “She doesn’t want you. Have yer men release her.”

  “Touch me, and you’ll never see Baron Gillingham,” the snake calmly replied.