Fraser 01 - Highland Legacy (3 page)

They traveled the short distance in silence. When they came to a halt in a small copse of trees near the postern gate of
Mhaolain Castle,
Cailin turned to face him
.
“Mayhap, I should go the rest of the way alone. I know my way about the bailey and when the guards make their rounds. To have you with me would surely attract attention.”

“You’re probably right. Your father might not understand why we are alone together, and I dinna want to damage your reputation. Once you’re safely inside, I’ll take my leave.” He slid from the horse and offered her his hand.

She couldn’t bring herself to move. With her head bowed, and eyes downcast, she toyed with the corner of the plaid he’d wrapped around her shoulders. A strange ache gnawed at the pit of her stomach, and an insidious sadness crept over her. This was madness, she didn’t even know the man, but she wanted him to stay. Better yet, she wished he would take her with him. She silently prayed he would carry her away from Dunkeld forever.

“Are you certain you will be all right?” He wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her from the saddle.

His touch sizzled, slicing through her like a bolt of lightning, igniting her very core. Erotic sparks erupted from within and flew in every direction. When her feet touched the ground, she slowly raised her eyes, and her gaze locked with his. “Aye. I will never forget your kindness.”

Connor leaned closer. “Cailin,” he muttered her name on a shuddering breath, and his mouth captured hers.

The way her name rolled off his tongue gave her gooseflesh. At first, the kiss was tender, almost chaste. Languorously, his tongue teased the seam of her lips, willing her to open to his sweet invasion. To give in to desire was wrong, yet she offered no resistance when his arms enveloped her, and he pulled her into his embrace.

Her fingers splayed across the broad span of his chest, and she felt his heart quicken beneath her touch. Her mouth softened, and her lips parted. Timidly, allowing the tip of her tongue to sample his, she tasted his passion and desire. When he engulfed her in his arms and kissed her senseless, she found herself wanting more—more of this—more of him.

Foreign, wanton thoughts, for which she would surely burn in Hell, flooded her mind. Yet, an inner voice told her these newly awakened feelings were the most natural thing in the world. She had been raised to believe it disgraceful, and evil, for a lady to crave a man’s touch. But they couldn’t possibly mean this. How could such a glorious thing be sinful, yet feel so amazing?

Huddled securely in his arms, she closed her eyes and let his wild, woodsy masculine fragrance fill her senses. Like an aphrodisiac, it caused her blood to heat and every nerve in her body to tighten, awakening sensations she never knew existed.

Connor deepened the kiss, and his tongue swept past her teeth to plunder her mouth. Like a starving man, he feasted on her lips. His kiss hungry, greedy, yet surprisingly gentle. He swallowed her tiny whimpers of pleasure, and tightened his embrace. With one hand anchored at the nape of her neck, he held her lips against his own, while the other hand explored the dip of her waist, and then settled on her bottom. When he pulled her into the hollow of his thighs, his rock hard shaft pressed against her belly. Pliant in his arms, they fit perfectly—as if he had been born to hold her like this. She let her head fall back, and his mouth slid from hers, leaving a hot trail of kisses along her neck.

“You taste like heaven.” A low groan escaped his lips when he dropped his hands to his sides and took a step back. “Forgive me for taking such liberties.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, and then exhaled slowly. To continue on this path would be a mistake. A proper lady would never behave in such a willful way, but the loss of physical contact caused her heart to clench.

She stumbled backward until her spine rested against the curtain wall. Speechless, she brought her finger to her mouth, gently tracing where his lips had been. Today had been one of revelations and metamorphosis. She had gone from a child to a woman in the space of a few hours. Two men had pressed their lips to hers, yet the same act had drawn two completely different reactions.

The soldier’s revolting kiss and lewd intent had made her skin crawl, while Connor’s kisses fueled her passion and desire. Freshened with mint and fennel, his breath was sweet, hot, and moist against her lips. He kissed her gently, reverently, and when it became possessive, and all consuming, she had no wish to pull away, or to fight the swell of emotion rising from her very core. While his strong hands caressed, his sensual mouth explored and enticed. She wanted to fall to her knees and pray the moment would never end.

Still bewildered by the power of his kiss, Cailin stood motionless, staring into Connor’s heavy-lidded, passion-filled eyes. She blinked several times, then lowered her gaze. “Thank you for your help, m’lord, but you should be on your way.”

He nodded, and moved aside, but as she stepped forward, she swayed toward him. When he grasped her waist to hold her steady, she braced her hands on his chest. His heart thundered beneath her fingertips, as if clawing to get out. Yet she dare not look up at him, lest she swoon again. “It appears I’m once more in your debt. You can release me now.”

His hands fell to his sides, and he gave her room to pass. When she reached the gate, she turned and smiled. “I am grateful for all your help. I’ll never forget you or your...” She hesitated, again bringing her fingers to her lips. Unable to continue, she slipped inside.

Chapter 3

Cloaked by the shadows of the curtain wall, Cailin crouched behind some bushes and waited for the sentry to pass. She’d memorized the routes used to patrol the castle grounds and when the guards made their rounds...or so she thought. He was early. Something was amiss.

Her breath caught when he stopped and stared in the direction of the postern gate. Afraid to move a muscle, lest she be discovered, she nibbled on her lower lip and willed him to leave. Her heart raced, and beads of perspiration collected on her brow and in the valley between her breasts. While only a few feet away, the keep’s tower seemed like miles. Minutes felt like an eternity. When he finally moved on, she blew out a ragged sigh and offered up a silent prayer of thanks.

With the coast now cleared, she gathered up her skirts, made a dash for the rear of the castle, and entered a large storage room. Relieved to be alone, she wasted no time and moved to the opposite side of the room. She opened the door a crack and peered into the kitchen across the hall. There, servants bustled about, preparing for the noonday meal, far too busy to pay her any mind.

What now? Should I risk going to my solar on the above floor to change, or would I be wiser to slip into the chapel at the end of the hall? If they find me there, I’ll tell them I have spent the morning in prayer. Heaven only knows I need to pray. To pray my father does not find out I left the castle unattended, that the English do not link Connor or I to the soldier’s death.
I still must leave before Laird MacMurray arrives, but first, I will need a better plan. A woman traveling alone is an easy target.

She glanced down at her disheveled appearance and soiled gown. The garment had seen better days and the plaid she wore about her shoulders belonged to another clan. Someone would surely notice. Left with no choice but to go to her chamber to change her clothes, she took a deep breath for courage and prepared to step into the hall. She eased the door open, but quickly closed it again when she heard the voices of her nurse Eilidh and her father’s steward, Drummond, coming toward her. The louder their voices got, the faster her heart pounded.

“Where has the lass gotten to? The laird was furious when he demanded I bring her to him, and I told him she was not in her chamber. I wish she’d not antagonize him. As his steward, I must listen to him rant. As her nurse, you need to offer counsel on her unacceptable behavior.”

A crotchety old man of at least three score, Drummond always sided with her father. Cailin could picture him waving his bony finger in front of Eilidh’s nose. If her nurse had been alone, she might have revealed herself, asked for her advice and help. But Drummond would take great pleasure in presenting her to her father for punishment.

“True, she has always been a spirited lass, but like her mother, she has a good heart. Sadly, she is no longer a bairn and has a mind of her own.” Eilidh clucked her tongue the way she did when Cailin had done something she did not approve of. “However, it is not like her to wander beyond the castle walls without an escort. You cannot possibly believe she is capable of murder?”

“The decision is not mine to make. The English commander claims to have a witness to the deed and has vowed to leave no stone unturned until he finds the lass. He means to see justice served and does not strike me as the kind of man who gives up easily,” Drummond answered.

“Have you searched everywhere? The longer it takes for us to find her, the harder it will be to prove her innocence.”

“Aye, we have scoured every inch of the castle from top to bottom.”

“We must keep looking. This place is crawling with the Saxon buggers. If what they claim is true, I fear not even her father will be able to help her.” Concern resonated in Eilidh’s voice.

How had the English found out her identity so quickly? The attack flashed before her mind’s eye.
My father is the Macmillan and laird of this land
. She had her answer, and her father’s prophecy was about to come true. Her wild spirit and temerity would prove to be her demise. In her attempt to appear brave, and to stave off the attack, she’d foolishly told her assailants who she was.

She could not stay in the castle and risk being caught. Nor would she betray Connor to absolve herself. She had to sneak out again, but how? To escape when English soldiers swarmed the keep would be nearly impossible. With her ear pressed against the door, she listened as Eildth and Drummond continued on their way. When she no longer heard their retreating footsteps, she opened the door wide enough to see into the hall.

Myrna stood near the door of the kitchen. Cailin softly cleared her throat. When the maid glanced in her direction, she brought a finger to her lips and motioned with a wave of her hand for the girl to come to her. She closed the door and stepped into the shadows. When it opened with a creak, she held her breath in anticipation.

An expression of concern crossed Myra’s face as she stepped into the storage room and quickly closed the door. “Och, m’lady, you are in great danger and must flee. If the English find you, they’ll arrest you and see you hanged for murder. The commander of the garrison, Lord Borden, claims you killed his brother.”

Cailin gasped and clutched a shaky hand to her throat. “Lord Borden, are you certain?”

“Aye, I was in the great hall when he arrived and was announced to your father. Do you know him?”

An icy shiver ran down Cailin’s spine. She knew the man all too well, and had hoped never to see him again. “He visited the keep a few years ago, on king’s business. When no one was around to witness, he made improper advances. He held me against my will, kissed me, and told me it was his right as an English lord to be my first lover.”

Myrna’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “What did you do?”

“I fought him, scratched his face, and then ran as fast as my legs would carry me. He left that same day, and I prayed I would never lay eyes on him again.”

“You dinna mentioned this to anyone?”

“I had just turned five and ten summers. My father hardly acknowledged my existence, and I am sure Lord Borden would have called me a liar.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. It had been three summers, but it seemed like yesterday. “He never told my father what happened, but vowed I would someday pay for my defiance.” She wrung her hands and began to pace. “Now he accuses me of murdering his brother. I fear he has finally found his means of revenge.”

Myrna threw her arms around her mistress’s shoulders, pulled her into a tight embrace, and then held her at arm’s length. “Tell me you dinna kill his brother,” she pleaded. “I could not bear to think of you at the mercy of those Saxon swine. Surely if you tell your father what happened in the past, he will not stand for this.”

Cailin pressed two fingers to her friend’s lips. “Myrna, please, if you prattle on, someone will overhear. I dinna kill anyone, but Lord Borden would never believe me. The fact that the soldiers meant to rape and murder me will not matter. He’ll be more interested in retribution for the past than the truth.”

“Did they harm you? Your gown is torn and your cheek is bruised. Why were you beyond the castle walls without an escort, and however did you manage to escape? Tell me they dinna force you to do unspeakable things.” An excitable girl, Myrna asked the questions in rapid succession.

“This morning, my father and I quarreled about his plan to see me marry Laird MacMurray. He would not listen to reason, and my only option was to leave Dunkeld. I’d have left sooner, but I needed your help to gather some supplies. Besides, you’ve been like a sister to me, the only friend I’ve ever known. I could not leave without saying goodbye. I even thought to ask you to come along, but decided it was too dangerous. It was while I waited, the soldiers attacked me.”

Myrna’s voice trembled with emotion when she spoke. “You must have been terrified.”

“Aye, but I did my best to hide my fear. When the first man grabbed me, I fought back, but he was too strong. Even if I had gotten away from him, I was no match for two men. I was about to give up hope when a man came to my assistance. A scuffle ensued, and in the confusion, I ran into the woods. I dinna look back.”

“Do you know the man who came to your aid?”

“Nay. I was lucky to get away unscathed, and dinna get a good look at his face. I’m sure he is long gone by now,” Cailin lied. The less her dear friend knew, the better.

“Once Lord Borden learns another was present, and likely the one guilty of the crime, you will surely be exonerated. You must try to speak with him.”

Cailin shook her head. “Nay, Myrna, you must keep what I’ve told you in the strictest of confidence. Do you promise? Swear?”

The maid nodded and crossed her heart. “I promise to keep your secret. Even if I dinna understand why you choose to remain silent. What else can I do to help you?”

Cailin took both of Myrna’s hands in her own and gave them a squeeze. “First, I’ll need some supplies for my journey. If you could bring me some bread, cheese, and a wineskin in which I can carry water, I’d be grateful. I’ll also need some clothing. Mayhap a disguise, so I won’t be noticed.” She laid her finger along the side of her nose and, after taking a minute to think, she smiled. “Liam, the new squire, is about my size. I’m certain he keeps some spare clothing and boots in the stable. Fetch those as well, and bring them to me.”

“Why would you need the lad’s clothes? I could go to your chamber, get some of your fine gowns and a warm cloak.”

“Disguised as a lad, I will draw less attention.”

“Och, you mustn’t, m’lady. It is far too dangerous.” Myrna wrung her hands in worry. “Are you sure there is no other way? Mayhap if you speak to your father, he will protect you.”

“He’d hand me over and see me hanged, rather than risk the wrath of the English King. Nay, I must do this on my own. Will you get the things I’ve asked for?”

Myrna nodded. “Of course I will.” She threw her arms around Cailin’s shoulders and gave her a hug. “I will miss you. Promise you’ll be careful.”

Fighting back tears, Cailin eased away. “I promise to take care, but we must hurry.”

Myrna dragged the back of her hand across her tear-stained cheek, turned on her heels, and left to do her mistress’ bidding.

Cailin hoped the lad’s clothing would be enough to hide her identity. Her nerves got the better of her and she began to pace. Unable to forget Connor’s comments about her hair being the envy of all the women in the village, she stopped abruptly at a rack of utensils hanging on the wall. Without hesitation, she selected a dirk and fingered the heavy, thick braid hanging over her shoulder. She sucked in a quick, sharp breath, raised the blade, and in one swift motion, cut off her prized possession.

She wrapped the braid in the Fraser plaid and hid them both behind a barrel of oats. She ran her fingers through short, bluntly cropped hair that hung in a riot of curls just below the nape of her neck. Now, if she donned the squire’s clothes, no one would guess she was a lass.

After what seemed like an eternity, Myrna returned. She carried a bundle of clothes under her arm and a haversack in her hand. “Saints alive! You’ve cut your beautiful hair.” She dropped what she carried and covered her mouth with both hands.

“My hair will grow back.” Cailin made light of her actions. “If I am stopped along the way, there is less chance of my true identity being revealed.” While she explained her plan, she slipped out of her own clothing and picked up the stable boy’s trews. She curled up her nose and turned her head away. “Does he sleep in the stall with the horses? These filthy garments smell of sweat, horse, and manure.”

“The dirt and unpleasant odor will aid in your disguise.” Myrna chuckled.

“I suppose you’re right. If I look like a lad, and smell like a lad...” Holding her breath, Cailin slid her legs into the trews and laced them up at the waist. She stood very still as her friend wrapped a length of linen around her upper torso to bind her breasts. Once completed, she slipped an equally grimy tunic over her head. She placed her feet into a pair of well-worn boots, and tucked the dirk into a sheath that hung at her side. “How do I look?” Cailin asked as she turned in a full circle.

Without a word, Myrna moved toward the large stone hearth, scooped up a handful of ash, and smudged the soot on Cailin’s cheeks. “This will complete your disguise and cover the bruises.” She took a step back and handed her mistress a tattered woolen cap. “If you tuck your hair beneath the hat, no one will ever guess you are a lass, let alone the daughter of a laird.”

Cailin did as her friend suggested, and asked again, “How do I look?”

“Like you just crawled out from a pile of manure and are in desperate need of a bath.” She laughed, and smudged a little more ash on Cailin’s face. “When you walk, hunch your shoulders and shuffle your feet. Lads never stand up straight, and they dinna walk in a dainty manner.”

Her physical disguise complete, Cailin mentally prepared herself for the task at hand. “You best see to your chores. Someone might miss you and begin to wonder what you are about.” She took the sack of food from Myrna. “Thank you for your help, and your friendship. I will never forget you.” Raising her chin and squaring her shoulders, Cailin headed for the door. Myna sobbed as she departed, but Cailin refused to look back. Leaving her home and those she loved was hard enough. A long tearful goodbye would only make her departure more painful.

Before leaving the safety of the storeroom, she opened the door and scanned the bailey. The coast was clear. Despite her effort to keep it at bay, fear tugged at her gut as she stepped out into the sunshine and headed toward the postern gate. With her head lowered and her eyes trailing the ground, she moved quickly. She’d thought about taking her palfrey as a means of transport, but everyone in the village knew the dapple-grey mare. Instead, she’d decided to head out on foot. Once a safe distance from the keep, she’d borrow a horse from one of the crofter’s fields. When she reached her destination and found work, she’d send sufficient coin to pay for the animal, and then some.

A few more feet and she’d be at the gate. Freedom beckoned, and she quickened her pace.

“You there! Boy! Halt!” a man shouted across the bailey, stopping her in her tracks. For three years, she’d heard that voice in her nightmares. By the time she’d turned around, Lord Borden was only a few paces behind her.

He hadn’t changed. Standing at least six-foot-two, the dashing man in his early forties exuded a distinct air of arrogance and authority. He still wore his dark blond hair neatly cropped and swept back from his face, displaying his icy grey eyes and rugged masculine features.

A scarlet tunic, embossed with a golden eagle across the chest, covered his imposing form. A wealthy man, several thick gold chains graced his neck. On his right hand, he sported a large ornate ruby and emerald ring. A heavily jeweled sword hung at his side. The hauberk and chausses of chain mail he wore for protection added to his menacing appearance.

She fought the urge to turn and run. A fool’s errand, since she’d get but a few yards before he tackled her and dragged her to the ground. She prayed he would not recognize her.

“Fetch my horse from the stable, and don’t keep me waiting.”

“Y—your horse, m’lord?” Relief seeped into her bones. He thought she was a lad. “I’ll find him and bring him to you.” She lowered the cadence of her voice, keeping her response short.

“Find him?” A frown furrowed his brow. “Are you too daft to remember what happened a few hours ago? He’s the big bay gelding with the white blaze and four white socks. The same horse you put in the stable when I arrived.”

She didn’t answer him. Her mouth went dry and panic twisted her stomach into a knot when she caught sight of her father, heading in their direction. Her disguise might have fooled Borden, but could she deceive her father as well? If Duncan Macmillan recognized her, he’d surely turn her over without a second thought.

“Well, speak up, boy. Are you daft?”

“N—no, m’lord. I’ll fetch the horse right away.” She turned and ran toward the stable. Once inside, she searched the stalls, relieved to find the only horse matching Borden’s description was already saddled. She grasped the reins and led the destrier out of the stall. But when she reached the door, she hesitated, peered through a knothole, and listened to the conversation between Borden and her father.

“I have instructed my men to continue the search. Once your daughter is found, she will be taken back to England to stand trial. It is about time you Scottish rabble learned your place. King Edward will no longer tolerate any deviance, and those who do not obey his laws will be punished. As you know, I have a personal stake in this matter. My brother was murdered, and I will not rest until justice has been served.”

“Come, Lord Borden, we are both reasonable men. You cannot believe my daughter is capable of such a heinous crime.”

“She is capable of a lot more than you know.”

“Mayhap we could come to some sort of agreement.”

“Agreement?”

Despite her father’s attempt to lower his voice, she heard every word. “My daughter is a lass of great beauty, and a virgin. Were you to bed her, I have no doubt you’d find her very pleasing between the blankets. Should you take a fancy to her, she could bear you many fine sons.”