Then there was Amelia. She was pretty enough in her own way with her long golden locks and cute button nose but she was grasping. She had pursued Gavin for a time when they were younger until she found a laird who was richer, whereupon she dropped Gavin like he was a rotten chicken, putting all her efforts into chasing Thomas MacDonald.
When Thomas lost all his wealth helping fund a crusade, she turned her attention back to Gavin without even pausing for breath. Then she discovered the English lords.
For the last two years she had chased a noble all the way down to the English court. Gavin held out little hope that she would remain down there. No doubt at some point she would come back to chase him again.
Would marriage to Amelia be so bad? Bruce had asked him that on a couple of occasions and his answer had been the same. It wouldn’t be bad. It would just leave him numb. Duty dictated he marry to end the feud between the MacGregors and the Frazers. Could he do it?
He took another look at Heather as she walked between his men, the sun shining on her golden hair, making it look like a field of wheat in the late afternoon just before harvest. She was a ray of summer that had somehow survived long into fall.
He caught her eyes. Did she know what he was thinking? She frowned as she looked up at him. He needed to focus, stop staring at her. When he opened his mouth nothing came out. He had to clear his throat twice before his usual booming voice returned.
“We ride out as a hunting party,” he said. “If any should ask, we seek only deer not mischief. Keep your eyes open and your ears keen.”
The men began to mount their horses as Gavin turned his attention to Heather.
“My lady,” he said, holding out a hand. “Ready for a ride?”
She laughed. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He was confused for a moment but then he realized. “I meant are you ready to ride the horse?”
“Can he not take me to dinner first, get to know me?”
He roared with laughter. “You better not make jokes like that around Susanne. She’ll have you prostrated before the altar begging for forgiveness.”
“I’ll bear that in mind. You really want me to ride that?” She craned her neck to look up at Lairdkiller. His nostrils flared angrily down at her as he tossed his head.
“He’s no more than a baby,” Gavin replied, patting Lairdkiller.
“A baby? Yeah, right.”
“Here, let me help you.”
He grabbed her hips, shoving her up the side of the horse. “Hey, wait,” she said as Lairdkiller moved. She almost fell.
“Grab onto the reins,” he said as his men laughed at the spectacle before them. “Dinnae let go.”
Lairdkiller seemed to enjoy the attention, shifting again so Heather fell further. She was left dangling from the reins, her feet brushing the ground.
“Stand still,” Gavin roared. Lairdkiller saw the look in his eyes. The fun was over.
The horse stood fixed to the spot as he helped Heather up and onto the beast’s back.
“Let’s get moving,” he said, climbing up behind her and then flicking Lairdkiller’s reins. The grooms stood back warily, watching the destrier’s hooves dig deep ruts in the courtyard as they headed out through the gatehouse.
There was not a cloud in the sky. The air was filled with fall crispness. The first frosts were not far away. People moved aside on the track to let them by.
“My laird,” each one said as he rode past, doffing their caps and avoiding his eye.”
“How come they all know who you are?” Heather asked.
“They know Lairdkiller better than him,” Tom shouted. “That’s why he rides the beast, his face is forgettable.”
“Better a forgettable face like mine than an unforgettable travesty like yours,” Gavin retorted. “You’re the only man ever to be mistaken for a corpse.”
“Your mother didn’t think I was a corpse when I took her riding.”
“You’ll end the day a corpse if you mention my mother again.”
The men laughed then fell to talking amongst themselves.
Heather glanced back at Gavin. “What’s it like being in charge of so many people?”
“It is a responsibility to care for a clan but a responsibility I take gladly.”
“At least you have a nice place to work.”
He looked at the fields, many of the strips already harvested but a few lines of yellow wheat still blowing in the breeze like Mayday ribbons. The few trees beyond rustled quietly and to the right of the track he could hear the babbling of the stream as it headed away toward the nearest loch. “Aye,” he replied. “I suppose it could be worse.”
They rode for an hour until a man on foot appeared from the bushes near the head of the group. Expecting trouble, Gavin rode hard to meet him.
As he brought his horse to a halt, Heather lost her balance, leaning back against him. He caught her neatly around the waist.
For a moment he held her close, breathing in the scent at her neck. Then he realized his men were looking at him. He jumped down from the horse, helping Heather down a moment later. Once again that tingle when their hands touched.
“What’s going on here?” he asked, taking charge at once.
“My laird,” the man on foot said. “I am glad to see you.”
“Alex? What ails you? You look worried.”
“I was out hunting rabbits when I saw them.”
“Saw who?”
“Some of them wore Frazer tartan, others looked more like outlaws. Many had the brand on their cheek.”
“How many?”
“I do not know, my laird,” William replied. “There’s so many of them I could not count. A hundred? Perhaps more.”
“Where are they now?”
“Most went off to the east toward Bull Hill but a couple of them went west. I was trying to decide which group to follow when I saw you coming.”
“How long ago did they split?”
“No more than a quarter of an hour.”
“Then we split up. Bruce, you take the men and track the army, split as you see fit to get the flanks covered. See if you can work out where they’re headed. I’ll go check out the ones who went off on their own.”
“The sun will soon set, my laird.”
“Aye and they will have to stop for the dark same as us. Meet me back at the castle tomorrow night. If anything happens in the meantime, you ken what to do.”
“Aye,” Bruce said with a nod.
“Wait,” Heather said as Gavin took hold of his horse’s reins, preparing to mount once more. “You’re not going on your own, are you?”
Gavin saw the look in her eyes. Was that fear? “I can handle myself, lass. You go with the others. They’ll keep you safe.”
“You think that’s what I care about, my own safety?”
“Do you not?”
She shook her head. “How have you been in charge of a clan for this long if you’re so stupid?”
The moment she said the word stupid, all noise stopped. No one had ever spoken to the laird that way before, certainly not a strange woman none of them knew.
“Did you just call me stupid?”
“What else would you call it?”
“And pray tell, what have I done that is stupid?”
“You send your men after the bulk of an army while you go off on your own after the couple of people who’ve wandered off. Have I got that right?”
“Aye,” he said gruffly. “So?”
“Let’s say you get captured by the ones you’re following. How are your men meant to know what’s happened to you? Or even where you’ve gone?”
Gavin looked at his second in command, surprised to find Bruce siding with the woman. “She’s got a point. Take one of the men with you and if anything happens, they can let us know.”
“I cannot spare the men. You need them all to track a group that size.”
Heather said, “I’ll go with you.”
Gavin managed to res
ist smiling but only just. “Very well.” More time spent with her would not be a chore. “We need to move,” he added, helping her onto the horse. “Whoever left the group has gone to a rendezvous. It’s the only possible reason for breaking off from the main bulk of the army. If ought should happen to me, I will send her back to the castle with a message.”
“Aye,” Bruce replied.
Gavin looked at the men gathered around his second in command. “Take no unnecessary risks. Remember, this is a scouting mission. It will do me no good if you are all slaughtered by whatever army lurks out there. Find out their numbers and their plans and then return to the castle. If needed, prepare for siege. Do not hesitate if I am delayed. Bar all the doors and man the battlements in force. It may make all the difference.”
Bruce nodded, motioning for the others to follow him as he rode away leaving Gavin alone with Heather.
Setting out, Gavin was glad for the chance to be alone with the strange woman. All the while they’d been surrounded by his men, he felt a fiercely protective jealousy that bubbled up inside him, like he wanted to shield her from their gaze.
He told himself he should focus on the task ahead but that was easier said than done with a hand around her waist, his palm pressing slightly into her stomach, the smell of her invading his nostrils.
The scenery changed gradually, the fields and trees falling away and leaving them crossing a wide open grassy plain. In the distance mountains rose up gradually toward the sky.
A narrow pass between them was his destination. At their foot was Loch Glamis and the crossroads where he’d first met her. The broch was no more than a dot from this distance but he used it as a guidepoint, making sure they didn’t stray from the faint trail.
The ground soon grew wetter, the mud revealing several hoofprints. Whoever they were following had traveled this way. There were three sets, three horses.
Heather said nothing, looking left and right as they rode. Lairdkiller maintained a steady pace.
“It’s so beautiful around here,” Heather said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
She had been at the broch. She must have seen this before. “Where are you from?” he asked.
She twisted her head to look at him and he had to ignore a sudden overwhelming urge to kiss her. Shaking away the feeling he waited for her to answer. For a moment she was silent, frowning at him. Then she spoke.
“What do you mean?”
“You appeared out of nowhere, saying only that you are no one of consequence. You say you’ve never seen anything like this yet you were here just yesterday. It doesn’t add up. Where are you from?”
“Let’s just say it’s far from here.”
“How far?”
“Very far.”
“Your laird lets you travel beyond your village boundary then? Are you a freeman?”
“I don’t know what a freeman is.”
“Someone with no laird. Most freemen can ride though. You cannot. You are a mystery, Heather Frazer.”
He thought for a moment. What if she was a spy? What would be the best thing to do with her if she was? Hold her hostage and get Mungo to pay a ransom? It hadn’t worked when Mungo tried that with him but could it work the other way around?
He could torture her of course. In the old days that had been the main method of extracting confessions but he learned from wiser men that torture rarely if ever produced any information of value.
The victim was usually so desperate for the pain to end they told you anything and everything, mixing up what was true with what was made up on the spot. Differentiating between the two was virtually impossible.
He had learned the best way to get truthful information from people was to do it in stages, ask gentle questions that made them want to share. He had refined his technique over the years and saw the perfect chance to test it on his riding companion. It also gave him the perfect excuse to learn more about her.
“We will soon have to stop for the night,” he said, glancing up at the sky. The last rays of sun were vanishing behind the horizon. The light was turning gray. They had no more than an hour before it would be too dark to see at all. “If we can make it to the mountain pass, there is a bothy where we can spend the night.”
“What about the people we’re following? Should we not try and catch them?”
He shook his head. “On the far side of those mountains MacGregor land comes to an end. It would be too risky to cross into Frazer territory in the dark.”
“What’s the worst that could happen if we did?”
“They would have no hesitation in putting me back in the dungeon, and this time they’d make sure the shackles were secure.”
“Why were you in a dungeon?”
“I must ride hard if we are to make the bothy in time.”
“Tell me when we get there?”
“You can hold me to that.”
He urged the horse on. As they picked up speed the wind began to whip past them, making conversation all but impossible. The horse’s hooves drummed onto the ground like rain on a thin roof.
It became harder for Heather to balance so she leaned back against Gavin. He held her tight with one hand, watching as the mountain pass grew nearer.
They didn’t make it. As the last of the light vanished, Gavin slowed the horse, knowing he risked Lairdkiller tripping over a stone and sending them tumbling if he was not careful.
“We will have to sleep in the broch,” he said as it loomed up out of the darkness, a gray silhouette against the darker blackness behind.
Coming to a halt, he climbed down, tying up the horse to the old rail outside the stone building. With that done he held out a hand, helping Heather join him down on the ground.
“This way,” he said, booting the door open. She was staring at the ground around them as if she’d dropped something. “Looking for something?”
“Oh, nothing,” she replied, smiling at him. “Shall we go in?”
“Aye,” he replied.
He stepped aside for her to enter and then followed her, closing the door behind him to keep the chill air outside where it belonged.
Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted. Gavin didn’t hear it, he was too busy telling his guest the story of his forced incarceration, watching as she sat rapt opposite him.
Her face was barely visible in the gloom and yet despite the blackness, he could have sworn her eyes sparkled and shimmered like the noonday sun upon the bluest ocean.
7
Heather listened as Gavin talked, wondering how she could ever have hated him. She supposed it was because he had become a real person. It was much harder to hate a man who explained in detail how he’d spent six months incarcerated at Frazer Castle. Her ancestor’s castle.
According to Tony Carson, the sole reason she was here was because she was connected to Mungo Frazer. Mungo’s DNA ran through her, passed down through the generations. Yet she felt no solidarity with a man who could imprison people for months for no reason other than money.
“I’ve told you my story,” Gavin finished. “Now you should tell me yours.”
“I do not have much story to tell.”
“You have the manners of a noblewoman and yet dress like a jongleur. You cannot ride. You are happy to be here alone with another noble, unchaperoned.”
“You consider yourself noble?”
He smiled. “My people do.”
“What do you think?”
“I think you’re avoiding my question.”
“What question?”
“Who are you?”
She shrugged, hoping he would give up pushing. “I’m tired. That’s all.”
“Of course,” he said, getting to his feet. “It’s getting late. I will leave you to rest.”
“Why, where are you going?”
“Outside.” He said it as if it was obvious.
“You can’t sleep outside. It’s freezing.”
“I will light a fire for you first.”
> “I meant it’ll be freezing for you outside.”
“You cannae sleep with a man beside you. It is not proper.”
“I won’t sleep at all in here on my own.”
“Whyever not?”
She thought about telling him the truth, about not wanting to be apart from him, about feeling a strange bond with him despite hardly knowing him. Then she said, “I’d be too scared someone might sneak in.”
“Och, you will be fine.”
“Please.”
Something in her voice must have gotten through to him as he nodded. “Very well. I will go gather some wood.”
She watched him go. Once he was gone, her shoulders sagged and she put her head in her hands. Should she be doing this? Could she steal his knife and return to the present day with it?
It would have been so much easier if he’d been aggressive or violent, slapped his men around or yelled at people, maybe kicked a kitten or two just to prove she was doing the right thing. But no, he had to be all handsome and noble and dashing and wonderful and all of a sudden her task seemed an awful lot harder.
She tried to wrap her head around what had happened since she’d come back in time. First, she’d lost the key. Unless she found that again, there was no chance of getting back to her own time, with or without the knife.
She made a mental note to go look for it first thing in the morning. If she was lucky it would be right outside the broch.
Find the key. Steal the knife. Go home. The history of her family would change for the better. Gavin would not kill Mungo. What then for the highlands?
She had no idea how many other things would change. She also had no idea anymore if she was doing the right thing. Something about Tony and the lab had creeped her out but she had yet to put her finger on what it was.
She suspected there must be something in it for Tony. He couldn’t be doing all these things, working out how to travel back in time just to stop an ancient war. There must be something else. If only she knew what it was.
She found herself wishing Donna were with her. She realized just how useful her friend was at giving her advice whenever she had a problem.
The Key to His Castle: A Clean Time Travel Romance (Clan MacGregor Book 5) Page 7
