Ashlyn (The Highland Clan Book 5) (8 page)

Gwyneth introduced the lads to two of her daughters, Sorcha and Molly, who were also present. Coll, Art, and Tormod did their best to use their polite manners. Though the lads had seen Logan Ramsay and his wife visit Clan Grant before, they were far more familiar with Gwyneth Ramsay’s reputation as a spy for the Crown and the top archer in all of England.

Magnus whispered to Ashlyn, “Your aunt is still a fine looking woman. Look at the lads drooling at her feet.”

Ashlyn chuckled. “The best part about it is that it means naught to her. While some lasses would fall for their charms, Aunt Gwyneth is oblivious to all lads other than Uncle Logan. But Molly appears a bit more interested in the lads than I’ve seen her before.”

“So she does.” He gave a slight tip of his head in the direction of Molly, who had indeed settled her attentions on Coll, Art, and Tormod. Sorcha was joking with her cousins, Braden and Jamie. A few moments later, Molly came over to greet Ashlyn. They’d always gotten along well because they came from similar backgrounds. Like Ashlyn and Gracie, Molly and Maggie, her sister, had been adopted.

Uncle Logan finally waved his arms to indicate they should sit, while Aunt Gwyneth found serving maids to send for food and drink. When she returned, Uncle Logan closed the door and motioned for everyone’s attention. Ashlyn sat at the trestle table between Molly and Magnus.

“I have news, but first I’d like to hear what happened to the eighth member of your party,” Logan said. “Your sire told me he planned to send eight lads.”

Gwyneth cleared her throat, giving her husband a pointed look.

Logan added, “Forgive me, Ashlyn. A
team
of eight. Wasn’t that his intent? Were you not to replace Osgar with one of his periphery guards?”

“Aye,” Jamie replied. “That was his original intent, but I decided to continue with the group we had. Seven is our total.”

Logan nodded in approval. “You cannot have disagreement among your team.” He gave Coll, Tormod, and Art pointed looks. “I know we discussed this before after Osgar showed his true colors, but I wish to ask again. The lot of you can accept females on your team? Because I have brought three more to help us. If you have an issue with it, speak now.”

Ashlyn had to control her urge to break out in laughter. Would anyone here dare speak against Logan Ramsay? She did not know anyone who would, and certainly not the three who had come along. Judging from the looks on their faces, Coll, Art, and Tormod all looked quite willing to travel with the women who had just joined them.

“I will not make this long. As soon as you have refreshed yourselves, we will leave for Buchan land. King Alexander wants Ranulf MacNiven found, and we have agreed that MacNiven’s old friend, Glenn of Buchan, must be consulted first. I believe we disrupted MacNiven’s plans by killing many of his men back near the ravine. So my guess is he is searching out more men. Between the attack on Clan Grant and the ravine, he’s lost many. He needs to regroup, and I believe he may be heading to Buchan land for assistance. Whether he gets help or not from Glenn is yet to be seen. But since neither of us uncovered any more about him, I’d like to question Glenn of Buchan.

“There are eleven of us. The king’s guards will accompany us to ensure Buchan allows us entry. On my last visit, he refused to see me, but this time his refusal will not be accepted. Once inside, we will be on our own, and I plan to split into two teams. We must discover MacNiven’s whereabouts, but first I wish to determine if Glenn is part of his scheme.”

A knock on the door announced the arrival of servants bearing dishes of stew, carrots, and bread.

“Be ready to leave in two hours,” Uncle Logan said. “For those of you that are new to Edinburgh, you many wander around after we return. Please stay on the royal grounds until then.”

Once Uncle Logan sat down, the dishes made their way around the table.

Molly leaned over to Ashlyn and whispered, “Tell me about Tormod. He’s cute.”

***

Just before nightfall, they arrived at the Buchan keep, several of the king’s guards flanking their own. Ashlyn’s gut could not unclench—the thought that she was actually riding alongside her uncle Logan was enough to undo her. Now that the groups had combined, they would be called the Ramsay and Grant guards.

Magnus and Jamie approached the gate and spoke to the five guards directly behind the portcullis. “Logan Ramsay here on the king’s order for Glenn of Buchan.”

She thought the gates would open, but they did not. A few of the horses started prancing as if sensing the tension in the air. Was this how it felt just before a skirmish? She fingered her bow, making sure she could move it quickly if the need arose.

“Ramsays are not allowed in without the chief’s permission,” the guard grumbled.

“Then it’s the Grant guards here on King Alexander’s order.” Uncle Logan ran his horse up to the gate, making sure the guards could see how ready he was to do battle.

“We’ve sent for the chief. You must wait for his permission to allow you inside.”

“Fine,” Uncle Logan barked. “Tell him to get his arse out here. Logan Ramsay and Ranulf MacNiven wish to see him.”

Magnus turned his head to glance at Ashlyn, his brow raised, his mouth tipped up in its habitual smile. Molly, whose horse was on Ashlyn’s other side, whispered, “That should be enough to get the Buchan out here.”

A few moments later, the portcullis raised and Glenn of Buchan rode out to greet them, escorted by another five of his guards. He headed straight for Logan Ramsay. “As a participant in the murder of both of my sons, you are not welcome here. Take your group off my land at once, Ramsay.”

“I have a writ from the king. I’m here on his orders. ‘Twould be treasonous for me to ignore them, but then you are quite familiar with treason, are you not?” Logan’s gaze narrowed as he spoke to the Buchan. Anyone within shouting distance could see the hatred between the two men. “I’ll have the guard bring it forward to read it to you.”

“I prefer to hear about MacNiven first. I assume he is not actually here with you?”

“As you wish. Nay, he is not here, but Ranulf MacNiven is alive and well. He was last seen in the Highlands, where he attempted to start his own clan of warriors under the name MacNeil. The Grants ran him off. What do you know of this?”

“You are totally inappropriate, Ramsay. Ranulf MacNiven was hung for his actions, but you know that. Take yourself away.”

Uncle Logan moved his horse close to Glenn. “I’m telling you I have seen the man with my own eyes. Ranulf MacNiven is alive and living in the Highlands, though after the Grants unmasked him, he has gone back into hiding. The king wishes to know your involvement in this treasonous act.”

Ashlyn could see the shock that registered across Glenn of Buchan’s features before he covered them. He cleared his throat and nodded, “You’re allowed in, but only until this matter is settled. I wish to know more about this travesty. If he’s alive, you are not the only one who desires revenge. He wronged my daughter.”

The Buchan raised his arm, indicating that they be allowed to pass inside the gates. Logan said, “The king’s guards are to wait outside the gate until I send them on.”

“Suit yourself. Your group is welcome in my hall only. Do not be wandering around my bailey.”

Logan nodded. “Agreed. Lead the way.”

They led the horses, two abreast, into the bailey while some of Buchan’s clanmates spat on the ground next to them. After making sure that all noted his clansmen’s insults, Buchan ordered them to cease their disrespect.

The group found their way inside into the great hall in silence after leaving the stables. Buchan led them to a table where the guards were finishing their evening meal and loading up on ale. Once they settled and the chief ordered more food and ale, Buchan turned to his guests. “Tell me your news of MacNiven. Have you any proof that he lives?”

“He was seen in the Highlands,” Logan replied. “If you wish, I’ll bring the witnesses into your solar. I’ll not discuss it out here amongst your guards.”

The Buchan stood and pointed to his solar off the great hall. Uncle Logan motioned for Magnus, Jamie, and Ashlyn to follow him. Ashlyn stood, and Jamie moved to grab her arm as if he’d noticed her shaking legs.

To her own surprise, she allowed it. This place assailed her with bitter memories of Ayrshire. Everywhere she looked, there were angry faces and domineering males. She was grateful to have Jamie on one side and Magnus on the other. Halfway across the huge hall, Magnus placed his hand against the small of her back, using his bulk to help hide her from the stares of all the men in the room.

He’d made the move as smoothly as possible, as if he’d sensed what was inside her. It was exactly the support she needed, and in fact, she found herself grabbing his left hand with hers. Her skin crawled as if covered in insects, and the leering sneers of several of the guards making her feel dirty, unkempt, and ready to heave into the nearest corner. Maybe she should have stayed home. The creeping sensation across her neck told her Gracie had been right all along: she ought not have left Clan Grant.

Men, there were men everywhere—ugly, dirty, ogling, smirking men.

“You’ll regret it,” her sister had whispered the day she’d left.
Nay, Gracie, I’m stronger than that. They cannot break me with a look. I matter. I am important.

Propelled back in time, she found herself hiding behind a familiar outcropping of rocks as a horrible man beat her mother, hitting her beautiful face with his fists. Ashlyn had covered her ears to stop her mother’s screams, but she could still hear them. The Norsemen on the galley ship were hooting and hollering about her mother, spouting filth in a foreign language that did nothing to disguise their meaning. She checked on Gracie, but her wee sister still lay sound asleep on the soft ground under the tree.

But not Ashlyn, nay. Her senses on alert, the whole environment changed on her in a second. In the middle of the night, another Norseman had come. The touch, she felt the touch, and she screamed, grabbing her dagger. His hand went for Gracie’s tender skin, and she swung with all her might. She swung and swung and swung.
Get away, get away, leave us be. You cannot touch her. You cannot touch me. Leave us.
Then the absolute worst happened, the one thing she had tried so hard to erase from her memory.

Magnus pinched the skin on her arm and she gasped as she spun her head to face him. The other man disappeared in an instant, replaced with this beautiful man who was her protector. What had happened? Magnus had pulled her from her nightmare, the vortex that had engulfed her on so many nights and even days. She swiped at the tears on one cheek, hoping that Jamie hadn’t seen them. Magnus leaned over and brushed his shoulder against her other cheek, soaking her tears up with his plaid, doing his best to hide her sadness from the others.

Uncle Logan and Glenn entered the solar, trailed by Buchan’s two guards. Jamie stepped in front of Ashlyn as Magnus fell in behind her, the two of them cocooning her as they entered the room. She willed her strength to prevail.

You can be strong, sweet one. Lassies can be strong just like laddies.
It was her sire’s voice, pulled from distant, beloved memories, and she felt her strength grow and grow in her chest.

Uncle Logan fell in beside her in an attempt to hide her weak state, but the Buchan noticed and shoved him aside.

“Och, what have we here? A weak ninny you brought with you, Ramsay?” A malicious grin covered his face.

But that grin disappeared as soon as Magnus grabbed him and lifted him so high over his head that he almost touched the ceiling. Buchan’s guards had their swords aimed at Magnus’s chest, ready to spill blood at a nod from their chief.

“You’ll be dead in an instant if you do not release me,” Glenn rasped.

Chapter
Eight

Magnus’s voice, deep and menacing, echoed in the chamber. “Apologize to the lass for your disrespect. You must teach your guards better manners. I saw the way they were leering at her in the hall.”

Logan’s hand moved to Magnus’s arm. “Let him down, Magnus. We know Ashlyn’s value. The scum in this hall mean naught to her, am I not correct, Ashlyn?”

Squaring her shoulders, Ashlyn lifted her chin and said, “They mean naught to me, Magnus. You may release him.”

He felt the touch of her hand on his shoulder, so he lessened his grip, but he held the Buchan chief up so they were eye-to-eye. “You’ll not disrespect her,” he ground out. He’d kill the bastard with his bare hands, chieftain or not. He would not allow this pile of lard to distress Ashlyn any longer. He’d noticed her drift into another world as they’d continued through the hall, unable to ignore all the insulting, degrading looks from the guards. Alex Grant would never allow such behavior in his hall. This fool had no honor, none at all.

But he could not risk the lives of the others. He took a deep breath and lowered the weasel slowly. When he set the Buchan down, the chieftain’s guards finally stood back, returning their swords to their sides.

The Buchan laughed as he took a seat behind his desk. “Was that not entertaining? All over a lass. Why do you not take seats so we can dispense with our business and you can be on your way?”

Once they were seated, he continued, “As far as MacNiven’s concerned, I am certain whatever you’ve heard is utter nonsense. He was hung for treason as the king ordered. While my daughter wishes for him to still be alive, enough to have affected her sound reasoning, I know he was hanged as ordered. ‘Tis foolish to try to convince me of aught but the truth.”

Logan said, “I have three witnesses here who can attest to the fact that he is very much alive.”

“I’d like to know how these witnesses are certain the lad they saw is MacNiven. If he is still alive, and I say
if
, then he would return to marry Davina. Even though she was meant to marry your nephew, Ramsay, MacNiven had plans to marry my daughter eventually. He adored her.”

“I have seen him from a distance, but my nephew Jake, who met him at my family keep, said he came face to face with him, no helm. He called him by his true name, and Ranulf was upset he’d been recognized.”

“Why would he be in the Highlands?”

The confusion on Buchan’s face made Magnus believe he told the truth. The chief did not believe that MacNiven had escaped the hangman’s noose. Magnus had also heard that at the king’s castle, Davina had admitted to being forced into marrying Torrian, and that Ranulf planned to take over the Ramsay clan. Hadn’t that been his plan before he changed to the takeover of the Highlands and the Grants? Hadn’t he heard something about Ranulf ridding the world of Torrian, something Lily had overheard him say?

There was much gossip about the entire travesty, and he knew not which story he should believe. But it did unsettle him that Buchan was not aware that MacNiven lived.

“He planned to take over the Highlands, but the Grants foiled his plans in less than a day. Clearly, you know his reasons for heading to the Highlands. If he had been discovered anywhere near Edinburgh, he would have been caught and hung.”

Buchan stared at Logan, processing all he’d heard.

Ashlyn spoke up. “I saw him in the kitchens up close.”

“And how in hell would you recognize him? I’ve not seen you before.” His cold eyes bore into hers, testing her. “You’re lying, and there’s naught you can say to make me believe ‘tis true.”

“You are correct. I had never seen him before the skirmish in the Highlands. But I can tell you what I observed of the man who was driving the attack on the Grants.” Ashlyn stood her ground and whispered, “He has two scars. One below his left cheek…”

Buchan jumped out of his chair, his hands on the desk. “You lie…”

“And a circular one on his right hand, near his thumb.”

Magnus had never seen a person change from red to white so fast. Buchan paled and fell back in his chair, the next moment crossing himself and asking for God’s blessing. He was not acting. Buchan had no idea that MacNiven had escaped the noose.

As soon as he regained his senses, he stared at Logan. “I want him. Bring him to me.”

Logan smirked and crossed his arms. “That could be a problem. We have not seen him since the last battle. He found a bag of coins and left the area. He could have been killed and his body eaten by a wild animal or…”

“Or?” The Buchan stood up again, kneading his hands in front of him. “Or what?”

Logan stood and the rest followed. “Or he’s still alive and in hiding until spring, when the snow ends.”

Jamie added, “Are you claiming you knew naught of this? You were not involved in a plot to send him to fight my clan?”

Magnus could not believe Jamie pushed the man even more. He was learning much about warring tactics.

Buchan’s face contorted in rage again. “Nay, I had naught to do with it. I had no idea he had escaped his own hanging. How the hell did he do it? Besides, my revenge is against the Ramsays, not the Grants.”

“Some think Ramsays and the Grants are the same,” Magnus said.

“I do not. I
know
who killed my sons—both of them. ‘Twas bad enough you robbed me of my firstborn son, Dugald, but less than a year later you killed Cormag. Dugald was mad, but Cormag was just a lad.” His finger pointed to Logan’s face. “And I hold your clan responsible. You will pay.”

Logan chuckled and leaned toward Buchan. “‘Twas that thinking that got MacNiven in trouble. ‘Twill do the same for you. But you tell lies. You are as angry with the Grants as the Ramsays. Admit the truth for once.”

“I said I’d forgive Dugald’s death, but not Cormag’s.”

“Cormag denounced his clan. He came to me in Edinburgh asking for an escort to a new clan. He wanted naught to do with you. You ruined that relationship. And he was as daft as Dugald. The lad tried to steal my niece, Lily!”

Buchan exploded. “You want me to extend my anger to the Grants? That I can do. Take your Ramsays and your Grants off my land. We’ll see who has the final say in this matter. Lies, all lies. You and yours will pay.”

Ashlyn took a step back and ran directly into Magnus’s chest. For some reason, she chose not to push away from him. Her body felt so soft and warm against him, and he wanted naught more than to protect her. Glenn of Buchan looked daft himself, so Magnus gripped Ashlyn’s waist and tugged her closer. He did not trust this man in front of him.

She leaned against him.

Logan took another step forward and stood nose to nose with Buchan. “You are the one who is guilty of lying. You knew the king executed the wrong man, and you sent men to MacNiven in the north to help him attack the Grants, did you not? You’ll be held accountable for your crimes before we’re finished. And I think you know where he’s hiding, too. Where is he?”

“I do not know where he is,” Buchan insisted. “And I did not know he was still alive until you told me. I’ve been grieving the loss of my two sons. My daughter’s almost daft from grief. Now get out. Take your guards and get off my land. Tell the king I know naught of MacNiven, but I want to know when you find him. He owes me just as do you. And both of you will pay!” The Buchan stormed out of his own solar, his guards following fast behind him.

The four of them waited a moment before starting their conversation. Jamie was the first to speak. “Do you believe him, Uncle? He seemed quite convincing.”

Logan settled his hands on his hips. “I think he’s telling the truth. If I were MacNiven, I do not know if I would have trusted Buchan. The man’s suffered too many losses, too recently. He’s emotional, as you can see. Emotion can cloud judgment. Nay, MacNiven found someone else to send him guards. I still think he’s alive. Well done, Ashlyn. The scars you noticed convinced Buchan that the chieftain who attacked the Grants was indeed MacNiven. Unfortunately, we are no further along than we were before. Where the hell did the Buchan go?”

“I do not know,” Magnus said, “but I need to find a garderobe.”

“Take Ashlyn with you.” Logan pointed to the door. “Go now. We’ll be leaving soon. Ashlyn, take care of your needs because we will not be staying.”

Jamie came with Magnus and Ashlyn, and the others returned to the hall. After Magnus and Ashlyn finished, they waited while Jamie took care of his needs. A small voice called to them from down the passageway, but the speaker was too far away for Magnus to make out the words. He and Ashlyn exchanged a look and then crept in that direction, moving away from the hall. They found a beautiful lass hiding in an alcove. Her hair was dark and fell in soft waves all down her back. Dressed in the finest of gowns, her eyes darted everywhere, as if she did not trust them. She had a regal presence, especially garbed in red velvet and golden threading. The twisting of her hands in her skirts told them much about her composure.

Jamie found them moments later, and his eyes glinted with recognition when he saw the lass. “Greetings, my lady. Ashlyn and Magnus, this is Davina of Buchan, the chieftain’s daughter.”

“Listen to me,” Davina said. “My sire told me why you are here, and I want you to know something. I know it to be true.” Her voice shook and her eyes darted up and down the passageway as she spoke. “Ranulf is alive. I’ve told my father, but he refuses to believe me.”

“How do you know this?” Jamie asked.

“Because I saw him.” She glanced down the passageway again. “Not him, but the man who was in his cell.”

Magnus sputtered. “What are you talking about? Do not speak in riddles.”

She waved her hand as if to dismiss Magnus. “I went to visit Ranulf before he was to hang. I loved him and he loved me, and I wished to say farewell to him. But the man in his cell…it was not Ranulf sitting there. The man just stared at me and said naught.”

Jamie’s arms flew out to his sides, his frustration obvious. “And you did not tell this to anyone?”

“Nay.” She shook her head and tears formed on her lashes. “Nay, I could not. I loved him. The only person I told was Da and he insisted I was daft with grief. But I was not. I know what I saw, and the man in that cell was not Ranulf.”

“Have you seen him since then, Davina?”

“Nay. But I often feel as though he is watching me.” The lass’s eyes looked haunted. A look Magnus recognized from men who’d suffered in battle, ones who constantly looked over their shoulder for the enemy.

Ashlyn asked, “Have you sensed him recently?”

“Not now, but I did a sennight ago. I swear he was here, but now he is gone. Please find him.” She disappeared down the corridor.

They filled Logan in on their encounter with Davina when they returned to the great hall, then they ate a quick repast and left.

“We’ll do some searching in Edinburgh,” Logan said. “I do not think we’ll find him here.”

***

They made it back to the royal castle in the middle of the night. The women slept in one chamber and the men in another. Ashlyn was so tired, she wished to climb into bed in her gown, but she changed. Her aunts and cousins were all already asleep, and she stifled a yawn as she started to climb into the bed. Then she thought of something to tell Magnus, who was keeping watch in the hall, and she rushed over to the door and flung it open. She hadn’t properly thanked him for standing up for her against Glenn of Buchan. He could have been stabbed, yet he had not backed down.

“What the hell?” Magnus sat up. At first he looked alarmed, but as soon as he determined she was in her night rail, he smiled, running his gaze up and down her body.

Forgetting her intent, she reacted to his perusal. “Stop that. I am not a piece of meat.”

“Nay, you most certainly are not.” He gave her his biggest smile and said, “Do you miss me already?”

She slammed the door in his face, though she could hear his chuckle on the other side. What had she been thinking? Hellfire, but she’d thank him on the morrow. He was too glib at the moment.

Slud, but he was right. She’d gotten quite accustomed to having him nearby, and she did not mind one bit that he was sleeping outside her door. She climbed into bed, trying her best not to bother her aunt or cousins. To her alarm, she could not stop thinking about the brute. True, he was not as handsome as her male cousins, but he was pleasing to her eyes, especially with that ridiculous smile on his face all the time. It was a comfort knowing he was nearby, and she fell asleep without feeling the slightest bit worried about the creatures of the night.

Magnus would protect her.

They slept in late the following day, and in the morn they agreed to travel through the burgh after dark to see what they could discover. After their late-day meal, Uncle Logan led them to one side of the courtyard. “Here are your assignments. Coll and Art will travel with me and my family. Tormod, you shall go with Ashlyn, Magnus, and Braden. Jamie will lead. My team will travel to the docks to see if we can learn aught about anyone selling women into slavery since this has happened before in the burgh. If you are not aware, Gwyneth and I have experience in this area, which is why I chose that duty for our team. Jamie, you are to take your team into the middle of the burgh to visit some inns and see if you can find any loose tongues in the taverns. If MacNiven is still operating, as we suspect, he must be seeking reinforcements. He lost many in the battle with the Grants at Castle Dubh. See if you can learn aught about that. We meet back here at midnight. If you need help, send someone back and we shall join you. Any questions?”