The Highlander's Christmas Bride

by Vanessa Kelly

  “Let’s get this jacket off before you catch a chill,” Logan said.

  The boy’s teeth were chattering. “I . . . I think I already caught one.”

  Logan wrestled the jacket off. Mrs. Webb, who’d brought in some towels, helped Logan dry the boy’s face and hair. The wee lad didn’t make it easy, clinging to him like a limpet.

  “Where did you find him, Angus?”

  “In the herb garden, runnin’ flat out up the path to the kitchens. We wrapped him in the cloak and brought him here.”

  “Thank you, Grandda.” Logan carefully wiped a clot of mud from Joseph’s neck.

  “Thank the lad. He got himself back here, ye ken.”

  Joseph tugged on Logan’s cravat. “Papa, the bad men took Donella. I saw it.”

  Logan’s heart jammed against his ribs. “Did they see you?”

  The boy shook his head. “I wanted to talk to Donella, and I thought she might be in the library. I saw her coming out when the bad men grabbed her.”

  “Where were you?”

  “At the other end of the hall. They pulled her into the library, so I snuck down to see if I could help.” He grimaced. “But there were three of them. I couldn’t do anything.”

  It almost gave Logan a heart attack thinking about what might have happened if the kidnappers had seen Joseph. “It’s all right, son.”

  The little boy rubbed his eye. “They threw a cloak on her and carried her out the window.”

  Nick crouched down in front of them. “Joseph, could you tell if they hurt Donella?”

  “She was kicking like anything until they got her to the window. Then she went all funny and limp.”

  It took Logan a moment before he could speak. “Then what happened?”

  “I climbed out the window and followed them.”

  Logan and Nick exchanged an incredulous glance.

  “And then?” Nick said.

  “I followed them through the garden to the carriage.” The lad suddenly looked worried. “There was nobody to help, and I wanted to see where they were going. Was that bad of me?”

  Logan smoothed the damp hair from his son’s forehead. “It was incredibly brave. I’m proud of you, son. I’m only sorry I wasn’t there to help you.”

  Braden hurried into the room, followed by the twins and Victoria.

  “Is Joseph all right?” Grant asked in a worried voice.

  “I’m fine, Uncle Grant,” Joseph said. “I just fell in a big puddle.”

  “Let yer uncle Braden have a wee look,” Angus said. “Just to make sure.”

  Braden, a tall young man whose spectacles lent him a serious aspect, exchanged places with Nick.

  “Can you stand up and let me have a look at you, laddie boy?” he asked with a kind smile.

  Logan helped the boy to the floor. He seemed steady on his feet and was no longer shivering.

  “Joseph, how did you fall into such a big puddle?” he asked while Braden expertly ran his hands over the boy’s arms and legs.

  “I fell off the back of the carriage when it went around a corner.”

  For a few seconds, a stunned silence hung over the room.

  “Uh, what carriage?” Nick asked.

  Joseph made an exasperated noise. “The carriage they put Donella in. No one else was around, remember? I had to do it.”

  Everyone but Angus looked appalled.

  “Joseph, that was very brave,” Victoria said, “but also—”

  “Very smart,” Logan interrupted.

  He’d be damned if he criticized the boy for his brave but foolish act. Not when he and the rest of them had failed to be there when they were needed.

  “Aye, smart like yer da,” Angus said with pride.

  “Son, did you get any sense where they were going?” Logan asked.

  “Hang on a moment,” Braden murmured as he checked Joseph’s eyes and felt his little head for bumps.

  “I couldn’t tell, Papa,” Joseph said a moment later. “It was dark, and when I fell off, the carriage got away from me.” He blinked hard. “I’m sorry.”

  Logan stroked his head. “You did a splendid job, and it was very capable of you to find your way back here.”

  “But Donella’s in trouble, and I couldn’t help her.”

  The boy’s anguish almost broke Logan’s heart and battered him with fear. It sounded like the lass could have been badly hurt during the abduction.

  He lifted Joseph back onto his lap. “Not to worry, lad. We’ll find her.”

  Graeme came to stand beside Logan. “Joseph, do you remember where you fell off the carriage?”

  The boy nodded. “Where the road gets wider. When it turns away from Breadie Manor.”

  “And did you notice if it went in the direction of where there are a lot of lights, or not so many?”

  Joseph frowned. “Away from the lights, Uncle Graeme.” “Up a hill, correct?”

  The boy nodded.

  “You’re sure?” Logan asked.

  “Yes, Papa. I remember because the horses slowed down.”

  “It’s definitely Balmore Road,” Graeme said.

  Alec clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ll make a spy out of you yet.”

  “I hope not,” Victoria muttered.

  “I think I know where they’re going,” Graeme added. “It must be to Dun Manor.”

  “That’s all but a ruin,” Nick said. “And why go there? It belongs to Clan Graham, not to the Murrays.”

  Alec snapped his fingers. “But it used to belong to the Murrays, a few hundred years back. The Grahams claimed it during one of the clan dust-ups.”

  “Clan feuds,” Edie said in a disgusted voice. “I’m so sick of them.”

  “Amen,” said Victoria.

  “Och, Sassenachs,” Angus said. “Ye canna understand.”

  “We can argue the idiocy of clan dynamics later,” Logan impatiently said. “Graeme, are you sure about this?”

  His brother nodded. “Grant and I used to be friends with Roddy when we were younger, and . . .”

  “Stupid,” Grant said in a sardonic tone.

  Graeme flashed him a smile. “Aye. We went there a few times with Roddy to lark about. It is mostly a ruin, but Roddy said the old place would always mean a lot to the Murrays, especially Mungo. He was determined to get it back one day for the family.”

  “Good luck with that,” Alec said.

  “Yet another reason to hate Lord Riddick and your family,” Nick said to him.

  Logan cocked an eyebrow at Braden. “Is Joseph all right?” His brother nodded. “Yes, but he needs to get into a hot bath, and then to bed with a posset.”

  “Mrs. Webb and I can take care of that,” Victoria said.

  Logan stood. When he started to hand the boy over to his aunt, Joseph clung tight.

  “Son, you have to go with Aunt Vicky. I have to find Donella.”

  “They’re bad men, Papa. They might hurt you.”

  “Och, laddie, nothing can hurt me.”

  “That’s true,” Nick said. “Your papa is a giant, remember? And giants can do anything.”

  Reluctantly, Joseph allowed himself to be handed over.

  “All right,” Logan said. “Braden, you’re coming with us, in case Donella . . . needs your help.”

  Braden’s eyes flashed with sympathy. “Understood.”

  “Graeme knows the layout of the place, so he’ll come, along with Nick and Alec. We’ll take a few of the grooms, too.”

  “What about me?” Grant asked.

  “I’d like you and Angus to stay here with the women and children. I won’t leave them unguarded. Edie, Victoria, and Lady Reese can manage the party and hopefully quell any gossip.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Edie said.

  Alec looked stunned. “The hell you are.”

  She ignored him to stare meaningfully at Logan. “Donella might need me. A woman, I mean.”

  Logan wanted to deny the implication, but Braden touched his arm. “It’s
not a bad idea. And I’ll fetch my surgery bag, in case we need a few things on the spot.”

  “All right,” Logan gritted out.

  “I don’t want my wife in the middle of this,” Alec objected.

  Edie patted his arm. “You don’t have a choice, dearest. But I promise not to get in the way.”

  Alec fumed but obviously knew it was a losing battle.

  Logan was now in a fever of impatience. “You all know what to do. If you need to change clothes, do it now. Alec and I will scare up some weapons, and we’ll meet at the stables in fifteen minutes.”

  “You’ll bring Donella home?” Joseph anxiously asked from the shelter of Victoria’s arms.

  He smiled at his son. “I will.”

  “Promise, Papa,” Joseph insisted.

  He kissed the lad’s forehead. “I promise.”

  Chapter Thirty

  The carriage came to a rocking halt.

  “We’re here,” Mungo Murray announced.

  Here was unknown, since Donella still had the hood of the wretched old cloak—which smelled like a horse blanket—pulled over her face.

  Thankfully, her head had stopped ringing. When Mungo’s men had hoisted her out the window, she’d panicked and started to flail her arms. One of her abductors had lost his grip on her shoulders, and she’d clunked her head on the window frame.

  She’d been only dimly aware of her passage through the gardens and into a carriage. By the time her head had started to clear, the carriage was already moving.

  Mungo had pitched a fit, berating his men for hurting her. That had prompted defensive protests and claims that it was her fault for not meekly submitting to her abduction.

  Donella had finally snapped at the whole lot of them, forcefully reminding Mungo that he would face the combined wrath of the Kendrick and Riddick families. The old man had pulled the hood back down over her face and threatened to gag her if she didn’t shut her gob.

  She’d spent the rest of the short ride worrying about Logan and her family. They would be wild with fear and furious at Mungo’s audacity. Both Logan and Alasdair would be vowing bloody murder, and Mungo was obviously in no mood to back down, either. It was up to Donella to prevent mayhem, murder, and a clan feud, yet she hadn’t a clue how to do so.

  Anything she might say to Mungo at this point had the potential to make things even worse.

  The carriage door opened. Someone grabbed her arms and hauled her up.

  “Have a care, ye chowderhead,” Mungo barked. “She’s my future daughter-in-law, not an old piece of mutton.”

  Oh, dear. Things were definitely going to get sticky.

  After she heard Mungo climb out, Donella pretended to stumble, slapping a hand down onto the leather cushions.

  “It might be easier if I could see where I’m going,” she meekly suggested.

  “Ye promise not to make a fuss?” asked the man holding her arm.

  “Yes. I promise.”

  A moment later, he gingerly pulled back her hood.

  “Thank you, ah . . .”

  “Rory, miss,” he said with a shy, gape-toothed grin.

  Donella recognized him from the Perth Bridge. Fortunately, he wasn’t the brute that had tried to drag her from the carriage. Rory seemed quite friendly for a kidnapper.

  She’d take allies wherever she could find them.

  “That’s ever so much better, Rory,” she said with a winsome smile.

  He blushed.

  “What the hell are ye doin’?” barked Mungo from outside. “Get the lass out here.”

  Carefully, Rory helped her down, holding on as she found her balance. She teetered a bit, since she’d lost a shoe during her abduction and the ground was freezing.

  Donella blinked up at the tall structure that loomed over them, lit by the flare of torches. “It’s Dun Manor.”

  Mungo, who’d been conferring with one of his men, stomped over. He gave Rory a shove.

  “Why the hell did ye take off her hood, ye ninny?” he snapped.

  “You needn’t bark,” Donella said. “It’s not as if I can tell anyone where you’ve taken me.”

  “Poor lass canna do a thing about it,” Rory said with a sympathetic grimace. “Besides, you said to take care of her. We dinna want her trippin’ and hurtin’ herself again, do we?”

  “Might I point out that you are trespassing on Clan Graham property,” she added. “As a member of that clan, I demand you vacate these premises immediately and return me to Breadie Manor.”

  Mungo sneered at her. “It used to be Murray land, and it’ll be ours again. On my word as a Murray and a Highlander, we’ll take it back.”

  He took her arm and marched her through the open door of the keep. For an elderly man, Mungo was surprisingly strong. Donella had counted at least three other men, and there might be more lurking about the premises.

  Her only chance for escape was through the use of her wits.

  Built well over four hundred years ago, the building was more a keep than a manor—an old tower house with a great hall, and decrepit spiral staircase leading up to probably even more decrepit upper floors. An ancient banquet table stood in the middle of the hall, and some benches and a few old settles were in front of the empty hearth. It had the unfortunate odor of a place now primarily home to wildlife.

  Donella couldn’t help but wonder why Mungo was so intent on regaining the old place. Estates and holdings had changed hands so many times over the centuries as a result of clan feuds or financial mismanagement. Dun Manor had been abandoned long ago and hardly seemed worth the fuss.

  She lifted her skirts to avoid a pile of droppings. “It might more properly be called Dung Manor.”

  “And that be the fault of the Grahams,” Mungo groused. “The Murrays would nae have let it fall into ruin like this.”

  “Well, you’re welcome to it, as far as I’m concerned,” she retorted.

  In the light of the torches carried by his men, she could see the crafty gleam in the old man’s gaze. “Aye, we’ll get it back. And ye along with it.”

  “Over my dead body, you will.”

  When his wrinkled features pulled tight with malice, she mentally kicked herself. The situation was fraught enough without petty comments. Still, the entire situation was so ridiculous and annoying that she found it almost impossible to hold herself back.

  “Rory, get ye out and take care of the horses.” Mungo jerked his head at one of his other men. “Charlie, take the lass and follow me.”

  Rory threw Donella a morose look as Charlie clamped a rough hand on her shoulder and steered her forward in Mungo’s wake.

  When a cold wind whipped around her legs, she glanced up to see a gaping hole in the timbered roof. It struck her that there would probably be breaches in some of the outer walls, too. It was a miracle the place was still standing.

  At the back of the dimly lit hall, Mungo opened a door. He took Donella from Charlie, and ushered her in.

  It was a small room, brightly lit compared to the hall. She had to blink to properly focus, and was not presented with a reassuring picture.

  Kitted out as a tidy and rather comfortable bedroom, a large bed piled high with blankets and pillows was tucked against the wall. Several branches of candles shed a soft glow over the room. Two wooden chairs were pulled up in front of the hearth, with its cozily burning peat fire. There was even a carpet on the stone floor that looked quite new.

  Standing on that carpet was Roddy Murray, a sheepish grin splitting his genial features.

  “Hullo, lass,” he said tentatively.

  Donella turned on Mungo and glared at him.

  “No,” she said through clenched teeth. “Absolutely not.”

  Mungo barked out a laugh. “After all these years, ye’ll finally be doin’ right by my boy. And then in the mornin’, we’ll be off to the parson to make it formal.”

  “Logan will kill you for this,” she said, “as will my brother and cousin. And you don’t even want to th
ink about what they’ll do to poor Roddy.”

  Mungo shrugged. “Nay. Ye’ll be a Murray, and Riddick will have to go along with it, if he doesna want ye labeled a whore.”

  “Da!” exclaimed Roddy. “Ye canna be callin’ Donella a—”

  “Shut it, ye ninny,” his father ordered. “Ye only have one job tonight.”

  “But—”

  Donella rounded on Roddy. “Were you actually in on this plan to kidnap me, Roddy?”

  His eyes went wide with alarm. “I, uh . . .”

  “Tell me the truth, or I’ll throttle you.” She thought she might be able to kill him with her bare hands, at this point.

  Mungo snorted. “He’d nothin’ to do with it. Ye know he’s a witless fool. Why I had to be saddled with the likes of him as my heir is a sad mystery.”

  “That’s not very nice, Da,” Roddy said in a wounded voice.

  Argh.

  “Your father is not a nice man, Roddy. He and his men kidnapped me at gunpoint.”

  Wrath gathered on Roddy’s handsome features. “Ye took Donella against her will?”

  “I had to, ye booby. Do ye think she would come otherwise?”

  Donella pressed the side of her head and tried to look fragile. “One of his men even hit me. It’s a wonder I’m still alive.”

  Mungo snorted. “Och, ye bumped yer stupid head because ye wouldna come quietly.”

  “Ye hurt Donella?” Roddy gently led her to one of the chairs. “Here, sit ye down, lass.” Then he glared at his father. “Ye shouldna done that, Da.”

  “She shouldna resisted,” he retorted.

  “I was so frightened,” she said in a quavering voice. “Roddy, I just want to go home.”

  When Roddy glowered at his father, Mungo stomped up to his son and whacked him in the shoulder. “Yer a Murray, are ye not? So, start actin’ like one. Take what’s yers and be done with it.”

  “But—”

  “The lass gave herself to ye, did she not?”

  “Aye,” Roddy said. “She did.”

  “That’s entirely beside the point,” Donella indignantly butted in. “Besides, I’m now—”

  “Well, ye did, lass,” Roddy interrupted. “Ye canna deny it.”

  “She denied it and called us liars,” Mungo said. “I’ll have our honor restored if I have to lock ye in here all night.”