Highlander’s Lesser Evil: A Scottish Medieval Historical Romance (Highlands' Deceptive Lovers Book 4)

by Adamina Young

  The guards stood around him, perplexed, as Theo saddled his stallion. He could understand their confusion. First, he’d told them that he had no intention of going to Loch Moran since it was in good hands and he was needed here. Then, he’d ordered a few guards to go and check on Gemma. At the last minute, he decided that he needed to go himself.

  Last night, as he lay in bed alone, he finally admitted to himself what he already knew. Letting her go was a horrible mistake. She anchored him, and there was no way he would ever hurt her or his child. None.

  Damn it, I love her.

  Now, the guards were ordered to stay behind and keep an eye on things while he was gone. He didn’t intend to be gone for long; just long enough for him to check on things and bundle Gemma up and bring her back where she belonged.

  “Laird MacDougal!” an unfamiliar voice rang out, and the guards immediately put their hands on the hilts of their swords.

  Theo turned and frowned. It wasn’t someone he recognized from his lands or from Loch Moran. It was a man a few years younger than himself with a fierce look on his face as he reached for his own sword.

  “Stand down,” Theo told his men quietly before he turned to the stranger. He didn’t like the look of desperation on the man’s face. “Identify yerself.”

  “Oliver MacSeaver.”

  David and Cameron’s cousin. “Have ye come to declare yer loyalty to me?” He really must care for the boys if he’d decided to make this trip alone to become a part of their clan. Theo admired his resolve, but the man’s face held something entirely different.

  Fear.

  “Nay, Laird. I have come with ill news. Yer wife has been kidnapped along with her friends, Jillian MacSeaver and my own Elizabeth.”

  Ice laced his blood. She was supposed to be safe at the loch. “Kidnapped? Who would dare?”

  Oliver’s eyes hardened. “By the one ye left in charge. The warrior Thomas. Graeme stayed behind to organize a search with the guards, but we doonae know who we can trust.”

  Thomas had betrayed him. His second-in-command. His friend who had supported his rebellion and knew all of his secrets and all of his fears. Theo wanted to drop to his knees, but his beloved was in danger, and he would waste no time.

  “And how do ye know this?”

  “None have seen the ladies since two nights ago, and there was a message found in her cottage from Thomas himself. He demands that ye step down from yer role as laird, and she will be safely returned.”

  Damnation, this isnae about Loch Moran at all!

  Furious, he whirled and stared at the keep. There was only one person he knew who would demand that he stepped down.

  “Father,” he hissed.

  Turning, he pointed to four guards at random. “Two of ye ride to Sinclair lands and two of ye ride to Hamilton.” He would have preferred to ride to MacKay as well, but they were too far away. “Tell them I need forces here to make a stand against my father’s mercenaries.”

  “Gemma—” Oliver started before he remembered himself. “Yer wife is not on these lands.”

  “Nay,” Theo said coldly. “But if my father is still giving orders, then he has more than Thomas faithful to him. We will weed out the traitors and get her location.”

  “How do ye plan on doing that?”

  Theo pulled out his sword. “By letting them know that I have no qualms about spilling blood to protect my wife.”

  26

  Gemma had never swooned a day in her life, but as she stumbled from the tent, her hand pressed against her wound—which was still bleeding—she felt faint. The fabric that was pressed to it was soaked, and blood smeared her thighs. Stumbling out of the tent, she ran wildly for the woods before she stumbled to her knees.

  At first, no one even seemed to notice.

  “Gemma!” Elizabeth screamed as she raced to her side. Immediately, the men stopped what they were doing and realized that their captives were trying to escape.

  “She’s losing the baby!” Elizabeth shouted as she cradled Gemma’s head and rocked her back and forth. “Ye have all killed her child! Ye will all rot in hell!”

  “What is the meaning of this?” Thomas roared as he stepped forward. The men parted as he knelt down by Gemma’s side and studied her. “Whatever has happened to make ye lose yer child is not our fault. Yer wound is here.”

  Frowning, he peeled back the fabric that was pressed against her shoulder, and inhaled sharply. Gemma knew what he was seeing. The wound was bubbling, and the pain was taking her breath away.

  “How did this happen?”

  “Ye poisoned her! Ye never intended to let us go!” Elizabeth wailed. Her tendency for theatrics was in overdrive. “Ye poisoned her, and now she is losing her babe!”

  “I didnae poison her!” Thomas snapped as the others started to back away. Death of an heir would mean their certain death if Theo lived to claim his revenge. Kidnapping was one thing, but murder was another.

  And Theo’s reputation did precede him.

  “Ye said this was a kidnapping and ransom,” one of them said with a look of distaste on his face. “Ye said nothing about harming a pregnant woman.”

  “It was a shallow wound,” Thomas said tersely, but there was a strange look of horror on his face. He was willing to betray his friend, but this was crossing the line, even for him.

  Which meant he never intended to kill them at all.

  “I am sorry, lass. The babe was to grow up safely in the keep under the watchful eye of his grandfather,” he said as he pressed the bloodied rag back to her wound.

  Patrick? Rage coursed through her. He wasn’t planning on releasing her. He was going to keep her prisoner until her child was born, so they could raise him or her.

  It would be a cold day in hell before she let that monster anywhere near her child.

  Still, she couldn’t give in to her disgust now. She was meant to be dying.

  Gasping for breath, she clutched at him and began to whisper. When he bent down to her, she pulled the dagger out from beneath her dress folds and readied to drive it into his shoulder when a loud popping noise had him jerking back.

  Looking over his shoulder, she smiled briefly when she saw that Jillian had done her job. The tents were going up in flames.

  “No!” Thomas roared, and jumped to his feet. He grabbed at Elizabeth, but she’d pulled his sword from the sheath just as Gemma stabbed him with the dagger. “Ye tricked me!”

  There was no time to gloat. This was just the distraction and would hopefully signal to the patrols of Loch Moran that something was wrong.

  “Run!” Gemma gasped.

  At the real sound of her pain, Elizabeth reached for her, but Gemma shook her head. They didn’t have time for that. Pain or no, it was now or never. Grabbing her hand, they raced toward the loch. Jillian already had a head start, and as much as Gemma wanted to split up and double their chances to make it, she feared that the men were now too angry to care who died.

  Mercenaries were right behind them and gaining by the second. “Keep going,” Gemma said as she released Elizabeth’s hand. “I will buy you some time.”

  “No. I’m not leaving ye here. There is no telling what they will do to ye! We escape together or we fall together. I know these woods, and they doonae. Follow me.” There was so much ferocity and determination in her friend’s voice that Gemma had no choice but to follow.

  So they ran until Gemma feared her legs would give out from under her. Ignoring the pain from her wound, she raced with Elizabeth until they’d gained some distance.

  Then Elizabeth was pulling her down one of the sheer drops of the rocky edges. Muffling a scream, Gemma dropped, and Elizabeth pulled her back and pressed her against the wall of the drop with a finger to her lips.

  Above them, feet thundered past.

  Closing her eyes, Gemma held her breath and prayed they would not be found.

  When Theo arrived with his troop of men and his prisoner, the patrols at the border were sparse.
>
  “What is this?” Theo roared.

  A young man stepped forward, pale and shaky. He was from the loch, barely trained. “L-Laird,” he stuttered. “Graeme took some of the men to the other side of the loch. Smoke was rising from the woods. He was most insistent that the lasses might be there.”

  Or it was a trick. Theo gritted this teeth. “Look after the prisoner. If he attempts to escape, kill him and anyone who attempts to help him.”

  “This is what ye call leadership?” Patrick coughed hoarsely. Theo had found him in his room, still pretending to be innocent. “Ye let someone else order yer commands? Someone who is not yer kin?”

  Ignoring him, Theo shouted out his orders and spurned his stallion onward. A dozen men followed him, along with Oliver. By the time they reached the woods, their numbers had tripled with the villagers taking up arms and joining them.

  By now, news of Gemma and the other lasses’ disappearance would have reached them, and as Loch Moran had already proven, they would do whatever it took to protect their own.

  Today, Theo was grateful. He would have his wife back, safe and sound, at any cost.

  Just as they reached the edge, the woods exploded with mercenaries.

  Without hesitation, Theo cut them down. He was far too desperate to find his wife to stop now. Oliver stayed by his side, proving himself to be an excellent warrior, and they fought their way through. Glancing back, he spared only a moment to make sure his men could handle the mercenaries and protect the villagers before he plowed through the woods, following the smoke.

  The sounds of battle died down, and Theo reached the mercenaries’ encampment. It was empty except for one man pinned to the ground by the end of Graeme’s sword.

  Thomas.

  “He’s mine!” Theo snarled as he stood over Thomas and stared down at him. For a moment, he could see the regret in his friend’s gaze, but it did nothing to deter him. “Where is my wife?”

  “He was a father to me when my own had abandoned me,” Thomas said softly, regret written on every inch of his face. But still, Theo did not back down.

  “I doonae care why ye betrayed me. I care about my wife.”

  “I had no intention of harming her or the child. Or ye. Patrick promised me that if everything went accordingly, ye wouldnae be hurt. I didnae want the power. It belonged to my laird.”

  A chilling numbness spread through him as Theo pressed the tip of the sword to his chest. “Ye tell me where Gemma is right now, and I will kill ye quick and clean. Refuse, and I will drag you to the king’s court where he will execute ye in front of hundreds. Patrick wilnae live to see the evening for what he has done. Ye have failed. Give yerself a chance at redemption, and tell me where my wife is.”

  Thomas closed his eyes. “They burned the camp. They ran. I doonae know where they are, but I doubt they got far.”

  The impact of what Thomas was telling him hit hard and fast, and he nearly groaned. Alone in the middle of the woods that were crawling with the most ruthless men in the Highlands? Gemma was likely already dead, but he couldn’t think like that.

  “As heir to the MacSeaver clan, will ye act as my witness to the treachery of this man and the treachery of my father?” Theo asked.

  “Aye,” Graeme said with malice in his eyes.

  The execution was swift and quiet. Theo waited for the light to leave the man’s eyes before he turned to the ground, following a blood trail. Graeme and Oliver stood next to him, and their fear rolled off them all in waves.

  “We wilnae rest until they are found,” Theo said quietly as he looked up at the setting sun. They would search all night, and he would not give up hope.

  If Gemma died, she would take his heart with him, and he would never survive a life without her.

  27

  “I thought you said you knew these woods?” Gemma sighed as they stopped to rest again.

  “We escaped from the mercenaries, didn’t we?” Elizabeth pulled the rag down to study Gemma’s wound and frowned. “It’s still bleeding.”

  “I think the mixture Jillian poured on it made it bleed a little more.” The first part of their diversion plan still stung after Jillian had scrounged up a strange paste that would bubble and smell on the wound. She couldn’t tell Elizabeth that the pain was worse than ever, and that she was starting to feel faint.

  They had to get home.

  “‘Tis not bleeding much, but I would feel better if we could get it cleaned as soon as possible.” Chewing on her bottom lip, Elizabeth looked around uncertainly.

  Gemma didn’t berate her any longer. The truth was, they had used Elizabeth’s knowledge to move from hiding spot to hiding spot, and it had been hours with no sign of the enemy. With night fallen, she knew her friend was finding it more difficult to navigate the woods. They were both exhausted and running on fear and adrenaline. Had Jillian made it in time to warn the patrols?

  Was she still alive?

  “Doonae even think about it. She is beyond clever, and I am certain she is just fine,” Elizabeth said as she squeezed Gemma’s hand. “I think we should go back to one of the caves and make camp for the night.”

  “We cannae rest,” Gemma argued, but she was swaying on her feet.

  “Aye, we can. Ye have pushed yerself too hard, and we doonae want to risk the babe. We may have to keep an eye out for boars...” Even as she spoke, there was a snapping sound behind them.

  They were exhausted. Tears pricked Gemma’s eyes, but she adjusted her gripped on her dagger and turned. If they ran, and it was a wild predator, it would mow them down in a heartbeat. If it was one of Thomas’s mercenaries, they would never be able to fight them off.

  Three men stepped into a clearing, and for a moment, they all stared at each other. Gemma thought she was hallucinating.

  “Gemma!” Theo said hoarsely and raced to her. The dagger fell from her hands as he picked her up and crushed her to him. “Ye are alive!”

  Not for much longer if he continued to squeeze her like that, but she buried her face in his shoulder and finally allowed herself to relax.

  “I came to rescue ye, and here ye are, having rescued yerself,” he whispered in her hair. “Ye are safe. I will never let anything happen to ye ever again,” he told her. As he set her down, her shoulder moved, and she winced in pain. A fierce scowl crossed his face, and he moved the makeshift bandage. “What in God’s name happened to ye, lass?”

  “And where,” Graeme asked coldly, “is Jillian?”

  Elizabeth peeked out from around Oliver, who was holding her just as tightly. “She was to run to the village to warn the patrols that the mercenaries were going to attack from within the borders. We doonae know if she made it.”

  “Then we go to the village,” Graeme said, “and we find her.”

  There were casualties. A few mercenaries survived and were more than willing to tell them how they were hired by Patrick’s men, and that Thomas smuggled them in. Most of them were men who had been exiled by their own clan, and Theo ended up releasing them on the threat of execution should they ever return to MacDougal lands.

  Hamish and his men greeted them at the loch by morning. While their warriors weren’t needed, their resources were, and he’d brought Lorna, his healer. After cleaning Gemma’s wound and switching between appalled that she’d deliberately poured the substance into her own wound and impressed that the ruse had worked, she admitted that they would have to wait to see if an infection would set in.

  It did.

  Gemma lost time. There were moments when it felt like her body was on fire and other times when it felt like she was freezing. She slept, and when she didn’t sleep, she couldn’t decide what was real and what was just her mind playing tricks on her.

  Jillian was there. Gemma wanted desperately to believe that she was real for they still hadn’t found her before the sun rose, but Theo was also there, a constant figure, and she feared that was part of her imagination as well.

  There were others. Agnes and Lorna rota
ted keeping an eye on her, and Henry came in to give her the gossip. Sometimes it sounded real, like when he told her that Theo had executed his father; sometimes it was nonsense, like when she thought she heard him say that winged creatures were rising from the loch.

  It would make a good tapestry, she thought to herself before the darkness claimed her yet again.

  And through it all, she prayed that her child would be all right.

  “Ye need to eat!” Agnes snapped as she sat a bowl of stew in front of Theo. He hadn’t left Gemma’s side from the moment he learned that she’d been taken by an infection. It was all he could do not to find a way to bring Thomas and his father back from the dead and kill them all over again.

  The execution of Patrick MacDougal was a swift affair. The king would not be happy, but not only did Theo have cause, he had the support of his three neighboring clans. Connor was keeping an eye on his land for him while Hamish took charge of cleaning up the loch.

  There was nothing for Theo to do but sit by Gemma’s bed and wait and see if she would survive. He’d never felt so helpless in his life.

  “I cannae eat,” he said listlessly.

  “Ye can. When she wakes up—and she will wake up—ye will need to be there for her, and ye can barely do that if ye are wasting away from starvation and exhaustion. Eat!” Agnes snapped again. “Or I will hold ye down and pour it down yer throat.”

  “This is my fault,” he muttered, but he took the bowl from her. “I thought she would be safe here, and I led her right into his hands.”

  Agnes snorted. “I amnae saying ye didnae do a foolish thing by sending yer wife away, but ye didn’t kidnap her and wound her. Ye didnae pour something strange on the wound.”

  “No,” Jillian said tiredly as she stepped inside, “that was me.”

  The lass who was once a great beauty would never be the same. Unlike Gemma and Elizabeth, she had not escaped the mercenaries. When Graeme found her, she was unconscious in the woods after suffering at the hands of the man who’d caught her.