“Look, my laird,” Lachlan said, pointing at the ground as they reached the top of the glen.
“Good God,” Gavin said, skidding to a halt. How could he have missed that? Footsteps in the mud, many more than four. There was an army waiting down there, no doubt gathered in the dark.
It was one thing to fight bravely for justice. It was another entirely to run into certain death and leave the clan without a laird. He had no heir. They would be at the mercy of a strong man taking them over, a man like Jimmy the Snout.
“Back,” he said. “Fast as you can.”
Turning on their heels, they sprinted back the way they’d come. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Jimmy the Snout at the head of at least fifty men, all of them running.
Gavin made it to the broch a few seconds later. Throwing the door open he had shouted, “To the castle. We must flee.”
He grabbed the woman by the hand. She tried to fight herself free again but he ignored her squirming. If he let go she’d be dead in minutes. Or worse given some of the stories he’d been told about the outlaws.
He tossed her over his shoulder and ran, holding her tight, picking up the pace as his men sprinted toward the copse of trees on the shore of the loch.
The horses had been hidden there ready to take Jimmy’s men back to face justice. Instead, they were what made the difference between life and death for the MacGregors.
Gavin glanced back over his shoulder again as they ran. Past the woman’s kicking feet he could see no disorganized rabble. Someone was in charge of that lot and it wasn’t Jimmy the Snout.
No outlaw could control a group like that. He could see the marks of various crimes on the chasing men. Branded arms, sliced off lips and noses. They were scum but they had become organized scum.
Time to work out how later. First they had to survive.
The knots tying the horses took precious seconds to undo. He tossed the woman onto the back of his mount, climbing up behind her as she tried to slide back down, still wanting to run.
“Dinnae even consider it,” he snapped, grabbing the reins with one hand and her with the other. He was glad of her odd attire in that moment. Holding her black hose in place was a leather belt that he kept tight hold of as he spurred the horse out of the copse.
The chasing army began to fall behind. They were no match for horses. After a mile, Gavin risked looking back again. They had become no more than dots, their roars of anger fading in the wind.
He slowed his horse when they reached a steep climb. On the other side was pasture and from there it would not take long to get to the castle.
He looked down at the woman. At least she’d stopped fighting to get free. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Let me go,” she snapped back. Her voice sounded like honey to him, sweet and desirable even in anger. He found his throat suddenly dry though he could not understand why that might be.
He coughed loudly. “Did you see who was following us?”
“I said let me go.”
“What would it say about me if I let you down to your death?”
“I need to go home.”
“They will kill you.”
She twisted her head to look at him, anger flashing in her eyes. “At least let me sit up then.”
He slowed his horse to a trot, the other men riding on ahead. “If I agree to that, will you agree to remain with me until we reach the castle.”
“Castle? What castle?”
“My home. MacGregor Castle.”
“You’re going to MacGregor Castle?” She looked different, like she was happy to hear that. She muttered something to herself, the only word he caught was, ‘knife.’
“What was that?”
“Nothing. We ride to MacGregor Castle, correct?”
“Aye.”
“Then I will go with you gladly.”
He didn’t say anything but he noted her response. As soon as he told her where they were going, her entire attitude had changed. She let him help her up until she was seated properly in front of him. He spurred the horse on once more and she almost slipped off.
“Not used to riding?” he asked, putting a hand around her waist, enjoying the feel of her back against his chest as he held her tight.
“I’ve never been on a horse before.”
“Never?”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am. Only the lowest peasants do not ride and you dinnae look like a peasant.”
“Thanks, I think.”
The castle came into view ahead. The men were already inside, the portcullis lowering back down. “Hold,” he yelled, breaking into a gallop. They thundered over the drawbridge and through the gatehouse, finally coming to a halt in the packed courtyard. Bruce had begun gathering the men as the portcullis slammed into place.
“Up to the battlements,” Gavin shouted. “Bows at the ready. They were not far behind me.”
He climbed down from his horse, glad to see the portcullis was already back in place. Holding out a hand he was again struck by the incredible beauty of the stranger he’d brought back with him. “Susanne,” he shouted. “Where are you?”
A red faced woman in her forties appeared in the doorway of the cooper’s workshop. “I’m getting a barrel fixed,” she shouted over to him.
“That can wait. We have a guest. Take care of her for me.”
She came out of the doorway and marched over. “My laird,” she said. “This way, my lady.”
Gavin nodded a farewell before dashing up the wooden steps to the battlements. He was glad to see her go. It was impossible to focus on the outlaws while she stood before him. All he could think about was the firmness of her stomach when he’d held her tight to him on the horse.
What was wrong with him? He had never felt like this about any woman before and he had had his fair share of potential suitors. But her? She was something else.
“Here they come,” Bruce shouted from the east corner. “See them?”
Gavin took the last few steps two at a time, emerging on the battlements in time to see the army approaching. They had slowed to a march. That was something else new. An outlaw army that marched in step?
“Ready,” he called out, taking one of the spare bows and moving to join the archers, glancing briefly behind him to make sure the woman was safely out of sight.
Down in the courtyard all signs of life had vanished. They would not emerge from the keep until he gave the all clear.
“Not yet,” Gavin said, waiting as the army grew nearer. “When they reach the stunted ash.”
“Why not now?” a young lad asked the man next to him. “Before they get too close.”
Gavin answered. “They only reach the range of our arrows when they get past the stunted ash. Did your fletcher not teach you that?”
“I’m normally in the kitchens, my laird,” the lad replied.
“Then you should go back there.”
“Bruce called for all male hands to take a bow.”
“What’s your name?”
“Keith, my laird.”
“Can you shoot, Keith?”
“Only targets.”
“Manage to hit any of them?”
The lad shook his head.
“Never mind. Just listen to me. Draw the arrow now. That’s it. Pull your hand right back to the corner of your mouth.” He glanced out. The outlaws had almost reached the stunted ash. “Look down the length of it. Elbow higher. That’s it. Hold for a second. Hold. Now.”
The lad let fly. The arrow whipped through the air, landing ten feet short of the ash. “Never mind,” Gavin said. “You’ll do better next time.” He raised his voice. “Ready all.”
He let the outlaws get another few yards before yelling, “Fire.”
The sight of so many men firing their bows at once filled his heart with pride. Arrows flew through the air. The first row of outlaws fell at once.
The others became nervous, their line breaking. They shuffled in place, th
e unity he’d seen in their marching gone. They were talking among themselves, pointing at the stricken figures on the ground before them.
Jimmy the Snout was at the back, trying to urge them forward. They shuffled closer to the castle but a second volley of arrows was enough to break them.
They turned tail and ran, the MacGregors letting out a cheer. Gavin slapped the lad next to him on the back. “You did well. If you ever want out of the kitchens come see me. We can always use another archer.”
“Thank you, my laird,” the lad said with a grin.
Gavin waited until he was certain the outlaws were gone before giving the signal for his men to withdraw. Leaving a dozen remaining on guard, he descended the steps to the courtyard, grabbing the rope that ran up the side of the chapel to the bell. With a strong tug the bell rang out.
Figures emerged slowly from the keep. Talk broke out almost at once. A clamor of voices filling the air.
“They’re becoming bolder.”
“Why would outlaws attack a clan castle?”
“Something must be done about them.”
Gavin agreed with that but now was not the time for rash action. He needed time to think about what to do next.
He headed into the keep. In the solar to the side of the great hall he found the strange woman he’d almost killed. She was staring out the window at the corpses that lay on the distant ground, arrows sticking out of them like spines on a hedgehog.
Susanne was trying to talk to her but she said nothing in response. It looked as if she’d been crying.
“Now we can talk,” Gavin said. “Thank you Susanne.”
She nodded and then withdrew.
Once he was alone with the strange woman he waited for her to turn around.
“I must go home,” she said, still looking out of the window. “It’s not safe here. I saw them die. I was an idiot to come here. I should go back. I shouldn’t have listened to Tony. Five minutes he said. I can’t believe I fell for it. I have to go home.”
“You cannae go anywhere until I am sure it is safe,” he said, taking a step closer to her. He touched her shoulder. From this close he could smell her. She had a scent he could not discern but it was intoxicating. He wanted to breathe her in, get closer still. He managed to keep control of himself, keeping enough distance between them to maintain propriety.
She looked up at him then down at his hand. All the strength seemed to go out of her in that moment and she staggered. He caught her neatly before she could fall, guiding her to the bench by the wall.
Once she was seated he stepped back. “You are my guest,” he said. “You will have the finest room in the castle.”
“They’re all dead. I saw them die.”
He reached out, taking her hand in his. “And you’re safe. As long as you remain here I will keep you safe. You have my word.”
She looked up at him and he felt a sudden urge to kiss her.
A voice behind him. “My laird.”
He turned to see a guard standing there. “A messenger has come from Mungo Frazer.”
“I will come at once.” He turned to look back at the woman. “I will have Susanne come and take you to your room.”
She didn’t look up. That was for the best. Another glance at those sparkling eyes of hers and he’d be completely lost.
5
“You do realize you’re basically holding me hostage?” Heather said. “You can’t keep me prisoner here.”
The two guards stationed outside the door looked back impassively at her. “You are no prisoner,” the one on the left said. “The door is not locked.
If it wasn’t for their cruelly sharp swords, she’d consider trying to push past them. “Listen, will you just go tell your precious laird that I want to go for a walk. That’s allowed, isn’t it?”
All she had to do was find Gavin’s knife and then go home. She couldn’t do either of those things while guarded by two burly highlanders in chainmail.
The taller of the two guards cleared his throat. “We dinnae take orders from you.”
“And what are your orders, just out of interest?”
“We are to guard this room with our lives and make sure you don’t leave, even if the laird comes to get you.”
“No,” the shorter one corrected him. “Until he comes to get her.”
“That’s what I said.”
“No, you said we make sure she doesn’t leave even if he comes to get her.”
“So what?”
“So that would mean she couldn’t even leave if Gavin came to get her. Do you even listen to yourself talk?”
“She knows what I mean. Why do you have to do this? You’re always showing me up.”
“No I’m not.”
“You are. Remember that time we had Paul One-Ear brought in and I told him not to move a muscle and what did you say?”
“I can’t remember.”
The taller of the guards scowled. “Yes, you can.”
“No I can’t.”
“You can. You told him obviously he could move his chest to breathe.”
“Well it’s true. If he tried to not move his chest, he’d have died.”
“And you said he could move his legs if he got uncomfortable.”
“So? We’re not animals are we?”
“I’m not so sure. I’ve met your missus.”
“Guys!” Heather snapped, waving her arms in front of her. “Can we focus for a minute. All I want to do is go for a walk. I’m not going to run off anywhere. Can you please go and ask if I’m allowed to do that. I’m going crazy cooped up in here like this.” The two guards looked at her and then at each other. “Please!”
“All right,” the taller of the guards said. “But if you try anything while I’m gone you’ll end up like Paul One-Ear.”
“What, comfortable and allowed to move her legs?” the shorter guard said.
“There you go, undermining me again. Just keep an eye on her.” He pointed at Heather. “And you, back in there until I come back. Understand?”
The guard closed the door in her face. She marched over to the window and looked out. From where she was she could see far into the distant countryside.
The hills were a lush green, the trees flecked with orange and red. It was fall here same as at home. That was a strange thought. Her eyes moved down and she saw the dead bodies. They were being loaded onto carts like so many sacks of wheat.
An arm flopped down off the cart. That had been a person a few minutes ago. Now it was just another load to be taken off and dumped somewhere.
She sank into a chair, putting her head in her hands.
It was too much to take in. She’d seen people get killed, actually watched as arrows pierced them.
Don’t think about that, she told herself. Think about something else.
All right, how about the fact she had just time traveled?
It was possible. She was in the distant past. How often had she dreamed of a chance like this when she was younger? A shot at seeing how accurate the history books were? Ask Gavin MacGregor why he stabbed her ancestor.
She should be excited to get some answers at last. Instead, all she felt was fear. It was a pit of dread that sat like a hot heavy ball deep in her stomach.
She wanted fresh air, she wanted to try and clear her head. And they wouldn’t even let her have that. All because the laird had decreed she be kept safe up at the top of the keep.
The laird. Without realizing, the heavy weight inside her had lifted. She closed her eyes and there was his face.
Her hands started shivering, her heart pounding in her chest. She really needed air. She crossed to the window, taking gulps of highland breeze as it blew in from across the mountains.
Why was she reacting this way? Sure, he was handsome but he was also a brute. He’d grabbed hold of her like she was nothing but a piece of meat, dragged her into the broch and shoved her into the arms of one of his men.
Then there was the horse ride to the
castle. She should have hated it but the way he’d held her closely to him made her feel so safe she trembled.
Stop it, she told herself. He was Gavin, laird of the MacGregors. He was the man who was going to ruin her family. She was only here to get the knife and get home.
She knew that of course, but it didn’t change the way her body reacted to him.
What was it that lab tech had said? He said when she went back there’d be a maximum of a month until the peace negotiations began. How long did she actually have?
However long it was, one thing was certain. He hadn’t stabbed Mungo Frazer yet. The act she despised him for, he hadn’t yet carried out.
If she could get hold of his knife and take it back to the present he wouldn’t do it at all. He wouldn’t be a murderer.
What did that mean?
Steal the knife. Use the silver key. Unlock any door. Go home. Done.
The key!
What had happened to the key?
She checked her pockets. Nothing. With a horrible sinking feeling she realized she’d probably lost it at the broch. That was not good.
She would have to find it. How else could she get back to her own time? She shuddered at the thought of being trapped here forever. The thought of never being able to return home was far more terrifying than anything she’d experienced so far.
“Relax,” she said out loud, taking several deep breaths. “First chance you get, you go find the key. It’ll be all be fine.” She groaned. If only she could believe that.
The door opened, interrupting her thoughts. She was expecting to see a guard but instead it was a young boy carrying a tray of food in one hand, a bag slung over his other shoulder.
“This is for you,” he said, placing the tray on the table by the fireplace. “With compliments of the laird.”
“What’s your name?”
“Keith, my lady.”
“Thank you, Keith.”
He passed her the bag. “Clean clothes for you to wear, Susanne said she’ll wash your muddy things for you if you leave them outside the room.”
The Key to His Castle: A Clean Time Travel Romance (Clan MacGregor Book 5) Page 5
