Her Highland Rogue: A Wild Highland Guardian Novel (12 page)

Days of searching in every direction had proven worthless. From Eilean Donan Castle to deep into the wilds of Glenelg at the south, no one had seen or heard anything about a red-haired lass on the run. Gunn had traveled as far as the Fraser keep, returning as frustrated as all the warriors. It seemed the lovely Aileana had never really existed, for the only place Errol saw and touched her now, or tasted her sweet lips, was in his dreams. Or nightmares, depending on his mood.

Home for only a few hours, Errol joined his men for a late meal in the great hall. Not expecting to see his father until morning, he sat alone at the high table, nursing an ale and stirring his cabbage and meat together.

“Keep churning it like butter, and you’ll end up with soup,” his sire said as he took his chair beside Errol. He coughed, then struggled to take a deep breath. “How many days have you been gone?”

“Eight, counting today.”

“And the lass has been missing for how long?”

“Ten days.”

Laird MacRae rubbed his chin. “No news?”

“Nothing,” he muttered, returning his attention to the cold meat.

“A messenger from Clan MacDonald delivered a missive to me yesterday.”

Errol dropped his fork and stared at his father. “The MacDonalds? Here?”

“Aye,” he said. “Glad something got your attention.”

“Enough to make me want to kill.” He narrowed his eyes, the idea of wreaking havoc on an enemy clan as appealing as fucking himself into oblivion. “What do the MacDonalds want with us?”

“Not us,” his father clarified.
“You.”

Errol sucked down the rest of his ale, then banged his cup on the table. “More,” he demanded.

One of the maids rushed over and refilled his vessel.

“What does the missive say?”

“I know we agreed to leave the past behind us, but I must know something of grave importance, Errol. For Cian MacDonald, brother of the chieftain, has fingered you as the bastard who deflowered his only child.”

Errol let out a wicked laugh. “Did he specify what sex it is? Male, female, or swine?”

Laird MacRae glared at his son. “There are times I think ye stupid enough to still deserve the strap on your naked arse. For no matter how bitter you are over losing Aileana, I refuse to allow you to endanger our clan. Especially with your wayward prick.”

“Would it make any difference if I denied ever bedding a MacDonald? In your eyes, I wave my cock about as carelessly as a drunk wields a sword.”

“Aye,” his sire said. “The facts speak for themselves. There is no way of knowing, for lasses often run away disguised as someone else. And many women have visited our keep, felt the sting of your lust, and left with broken hearts.”

Errol emptied his cup again. As he raised his hand to signal for another, his father slapped it down. “You will refrain from further indulgence. This matter is far from settled.”

Errol grunted. “If it makes you feel better, I will write a response with my own hand, telling bloody Cian MacDonald to go feck himself.”

“You will do better than that, my son. You will go abovestairs and sleep. Then in the morn you will dress as the future laird of the MacRaes, take the gifts I wish you to present to the chieftain, and conduct yourself as a man of honor who is willing to right his wrongs if any exist. You will set aside your hatred and do right by the lass.”

“I am betrothed to Aileana.”

“Not if she doesna wish to be found. While you were gone, I too made inquiries about the lass. I am convinced she has fled the Highlands in hope of finding a new home. I willna risk a bloody feud with the MacDonalds if it can be settled through marriage.”

“I willna sell my soul for a night of mindless pleasure.”

“Yer wrong.” His father stood. “You will do as I say if it saves our family.”

He watched his sire walk away, his head swimming from too much ale, and his heart breaking for the girl he’d lost.

“Seems we both have to live without her.”

The hair on the back of Errol’s neck stood up when he heard that voice. “Broc.” The man dared to lean against the table, arms and legs casually crossed like he and Errol were still on good terms.

Errol knew in that moment how much he truly resented his former friend. The man had abused his position of power to try and force Aileana into a marriage she didn’t want. And his filthy hands had touched her—his desolate mouth had kissed her one too many times.

“Be gone.” Errol waved him away.

“I’ve seen MacDonald stock,” Broc taunted. “Their sows are biddable enough, an improvement over your first choice.”

Enraged by the man’s insults, Errol shot up from his chair, the haze of drunkenness suddenly gone. “Speak another word about Aileana, and I’ll sever your head.” He drew his sword, the smooth metal gleaming in the torchlight. “Give me a reason to kill you.”

Gunn and Liam were at his side in a flash, weapons at the ready.

“Command me, milord.” Liam eyed Broc. “I’ve never trusted the bastard.”

“Stand down.” Errol sheathed his weapon. “Broc is leaving.”

Much rode on Broc’s actions. As a captain, he was entitled to a meeting with the laird if Errol dismissed him from service. But Errol stopped just short of that, for he preferred knowing where the wily bastard was day to day over losing sight of him. Once things were settled with Aileana and the MacDonalds, he’d deal with Broc.

And as he hoped, the captain walked away.

Liam and Gunn lowered their swords.

“Though I dinna hear your father’s words, I could see how heated the exchange was,” Gunn said.

“Aye,” Liam agreed. “Did it concern the lass?”

Errol ran his fingers through his hair, knowing he’d need their help. “I’m afraid it’s more than that.” He explained the situation. “Be ready to depart at first light; we sail to Skye.”

After a week of unbearable silence, Aileana received a chance to eat that evening with Sgùrr and the man she identified as Aileana’s father. Although she’d been given freedom to wander the stone keep and beach, a guard followed her at a distance at all times. She took all her meals in the modest chamber she shared with Sgùrr, but most mornings when Aileana awoke, Sgùrr was already gone.

Today was no different really; she explored the barren beach, picking up the occasional stone or shell, gazing helplessly across the water in the direction of the MacRaes, dreaming of the life she might’ve had with Errol. Time away from him had proven one thing—she loved him. But there was nothing to do about it, especially if she was really a MacDonald. She held the ship pendant while continuing to walk.

“Are ye ready to embrace your destiny tonight?” Sgùrr joined her.

“It doesna feel right,” she said, glad for the company. “Though I favor Cian MacDonald, he has made no effort to see or speak with me. What use does a battle-worn warrior have for a daughter?”

“Search your heart for the answers, Aileana. He’s never wed and has no other children. Bringing you here was the best choice. I couldna bear to see you suffer any longer. I made some bad choices when I was young, and beg your forgiveness.”

Aileana turned to her. “Forgiveness for what? You’ve been kind to me. Befriended me at one of the lowest points in my life. ’Tis I who owe you the apology, for interrupting your life.”

“Lift the veil from your eyes, child.” The seer cupped her cheek and gave her a rueful grin. “I have selfish reasons for befriending you.”

Aileana stopped breathing. What was Sgùrr implying? “I doona understand.”

“Come.” Sgùrr led her to a pile of flat rocks. “Sit down.”

Together they watched the waves roll in, the occasional gull diving for food.

“Eighteen years ago,” Sgùrr started, pausing to see if Aileana was listening, “I made a fateful choice. I fell in love with two men, I bedded both and they eventually found out about each other. The consequences of my actions are before you. Cian MacDonald, a distant cousin of mine, and brother to the chieftain of the MacDonalds of Sleat, won my heart. The other man, a MacLeod and sworn enemy to my clan, claimed my maidenhead. I tried to forget both of them, and chose a life as a healer, spending my time studying the old ways. But men aren’t capable of forgetting, Aileana.”

Tears welled in her eyes, for she guessed what Sgùrr was going to say next.

“Especially a MacDonald. Cian relentlessly pursued me, would even follow me across the island while I was searching for the rarest of plants. Sometimes I was away for days at a time. It mattered not, for every evening he would lay fresh fish or rabbits he trapped in my camp, then return to his own fire, a stone’s throw from where I chose to sleep. Eventually I surrendered my heart and body to the man, and we spent months loving each other, caring little about the world around us.”

“Do you still love him?”

“Aye,” she answered without hesitation. “But it means little. He possesses a black heart, and I too carry the scars of a broken life. I conceived ye the last time we were together, not far from here, on a beautiful summer night, beneath the full moon and stars. The next morning he left for the mainland, and I continued to live the way I always have. But a month later, realizing I was carrying his child, I knew Cian would wish to wed me.”

“You are my mother?” The words slipped out on a half-cry. And Aileana stared at her unblinking—joy and disappointment colliding inside her chest.

“Aye, sweet child.”

“B-but how could you leave me? Why did you abandon my father? Why didn’t you come for me sooner, and bring me here?”

Sgùrr repositioned herself so she could see Aileana directly. Then she reached for her hands, but Aileana pulled away.

“Rory MacLeod visited Dunscaith Castle, the home of our chieftain, demanding my hand in marriage. Threatened with death, Rory went home. But the damage was done. Shamed by my betrayal for bedding a MacLeod, my parents left Skye, leaving me at the mercy of the chieftain. Before Cian returned, I fled to the mainland.”

Aileana folded her hands on her lap, taking in the story of her mother’s life.
Her mother
—the need for one had haunted her all her life, and now that she was real…“Where was I born?”

“In the mountains—the very cave I live in.”

“But…why…”

Sgùrr claimed her hands then, holding them tight. “I loved you fiercely, Aileana. From the moment I knew you were inside my belly, I swore to protect you, to never allow the violence and pain of this world to touch you. I ruined my own chance at happiness and a respectful marriage by giving in to my carnal needs. So I sought a better beginning for you—promising God if he delivered you safely into this world, I’d raise you to love all people.”

Speechless, Aileana slipped off the rock and sat between her mother’s knees, staring up at her, awed by her existence, yet still torn between forgiveness and anger.

“Our first few years together were magical in the mountains. But as you grew older, I recognized the need for you to be around other people. Returning to Sleat was impossible. Cian would never accept us. And to this day, I doona know where my parents went, whether they even survived.”

“I have no memory of my early life,” Aileana said. “What happened to me?”

Her mother smoothed her windblown hair out of her eyes. “Laird MacRae is the kindest man I’ve ever met. He wanted more children, prayed endlessly for mercy once his dear wife grew weak. I attended her on her sickbed, disguised as a healer passing through. It was then I made my choice to leave you with the MacRaes. For I knew the laird would watch over you. And he did. As for your memories, there are ancient spells in this world that hold much power.”

“But how did ye know the MacRaes wouldn’t reject me?”

Tears streamed down Sgùrr’s face. “I walked amongst your adopted clan many times. If I ever feared you were in danger, I would have taken you back. Believe that much. Edme and Margot love you. And I am sure Errol MacRae loves you, too. As do I.”

Overcome with emotions, Aileana lowered her head and wept. How quickly her world had changed. And she wasn’t sure what to do—forgive and love this woman for the rest of her life, or let resentment take over, and run as far away as she could.

Sgùrr gave a nod of approval as she smoothed the last wrinkle out of Aileana’s skirt. Lucky for them both, Sgùrr had foreseen the need to pack extra clothes before they left the mountains. Dressed in a russet-colored dress with gold embroidery and her hair piled high upon her head, she felt more elegant than she ever had. But chaos ruled on the inside—her heart and belly aflutter with mixed emotions.

Tonight she’d stand before Cian MacDonald. His initial assessment of her had ended sourly, with him stalking off without uttering a word. But Aileana knew that had more to do with seeing Sgùrr for the first time in eighteen years.

“Are you nervous?” Sgùrr asked.

“I am a bit of everything.”

“Doona let your father’s ill treatment of me cloud your eyes. For the man willna be able to resist you once he finds out what a wonderful daughter he has. We have spoken extensively about you, and he’s eager to meet you again. Only this time, I will hold my tongue.”

She admired her mother’s fiery spirit, knowing she herself had inherited some of that zeal. “May I wear the necklace?”

Sgùrr walked to the table by the bed and picked it up. “Turn around and I will put it on ye.”

“What if he rejects me?” She faced her mother again.

Sgùrr clicked her tongue. “Then we will march across Sleat together and I will present you to the MacDonald himself. Yer the niece of the chieftain, like him in every way. One look at you and he willna be able to deny your birthright.” She fiddled with a strand of Aileana’s hair. “The very thing that made you stand out amongst the MacRaes will bind you to the MacDonalds. Your red tresses are your crown of glory, sweetest Aileana.”

The women held hands in silence, then Sgùrr broke away and walked to the door.

“It is time?”

“Aye.”

The keep, overlooking the water, was of simple design. A circular stairway opened up into the great hall and connected rooms. As they descended, Aileana took in the rustic furnishings, three trestle tables and eight long benches, candle stands, a couple faded tapestries on the walls, sconces with lit torches, and ancient gray stones on the floor. Her father stood beside the considerable hearth on the far wall, his left arm braced against the mantel as he stared into the flames. She wondered if the same thoughts that plagued her were running through his mind.

She focused on his head of unruly red curls and his matching beard. He turned as they approached.

Meeting Sgùrr’s gaze first, he frowned, then looked at Aileana. “Welcome,” he said.

Aileana curtsied. “Thank you for the invitation.”

He nodded. “Are you thirsty?”

“Aye,” she said.

“Mary,” he called gruffly. “Serve our guests some wine.”

From what she’d discovered over the last few days, only four maids lived in the keep. She knew what a challenge it must be for them, looking after two dozen men. The young woman appeared with a tray of cups. Aileana took one and smiled at her. Once she left the hall, Cian headed for the table where food had been set out.

She sat across from her father, too afraid to move or speak first. Sgùrr kept her distance, having chosen a spot at the end of the table.

“It seems we are both victims of circumstance.” He gestured toward her mother. “Knowledge of your existence never reached me, girl. If it had, I would have moved the heavens and earth to find you. I am a simple man,” he said in a low tone. “Love and family was something I once considered. But when your mother cheated me of it, I chose another path.” He took a long drink, then set his cup aside. “My hands are stained with the blood of hundreds of men—my heart is as vast and empty as the sea. Are you sure it is wise to come to me now? What is it you seek?”

She considered him for a long moment, gazing into his deep blue eyes, recognizing where she’d gotten her own from. No matter how hard he tried to dismiss her, Aileana’s heart sang. For she’d dreamt of this, prayed and wept for the day she could find her family. Now, though divided, both of her parents were sitting in the same room, and she’d give up a hundred lifetimes for a chance to relive this moment again and again.

“It doesna matter to me what ye do,” she finally responded. “For if you lived my life, wondering every day where you came from, wrestling with the idea that no one truly loved you, believing that you didn’t belong anywhere, you’d soon see how precious a moment like this is for me. Any victory is better than none,
Father.
” The word rolled off her tongue reverently.

The danger of rejection loomed closer as he sat in silence, staring at her.

“ ’Twould be easier to curse my mother for hiding the truth from me for so long. I too know the pain of resentment for what she’s done.” Aileana looked at her mother. “But I am quick to forgive her, for I’d rather live the rest of my life knowing her, and you, than walk away empty-handed. As for what I want from ye…Nothing,” she said.

His eyebrows shot up.

“Speaking to you has been a privilege, I admit. However, there is no room in my heart for hatred and discontent.” She scooted the bench back and started to stand.

“Wait!”

She froze.

Cian sat very straight. “I dinna give you permission to go.”

“Nor did you ask me to stay.”

His rich laughter echoed in the otherwise empty space. “ ’Tis
your
tongue…” He glanced sideways at Sgùrr, a smile on his face. “Stay,” he said, gripping her hand.

He was one of the biggest and strongest men she had ever seen, but his touch was gentle. “Yes, Father.” She sank into her seat once more.

“I claim you as my own,” he said. “There is no denying your blood. Your mother…” He seemed to struggle with that part. “Your mother has discussed your past with me. I know everything, where you grew up and who guided and protected you. The MacRaes serve the blasted MacKenzies. There is no separating the two. And no daughter of mine will wed one of our enemies, not so long as there is breath in my body.”

Devastated by his words, Aileana took a deep breath. “I didn’t come here knowing what or who you are. If I hadn’t been attacked and threatened by a man in the only home I’ve known, I wouldna be here at all.”

Cian’s features grew dark. “Attacked?” He looked at Sgùrr again. “Did you know about this?”

“Aye.”

“And didn’t tell me? Did he rape you, girl?” The momentary lapse in his gruff personality was over.

Sgùrr rose and joined her daughter. “Is that all men concern themselves with? Whether a girl’s honor has been compromised? Consider her feelings, her heart.”

Cian growled. “I will know if she’s ruined first.”

“Enough,” her mother said firmly. “Broc MacRae cornered her in the woods and threatened to kill her if she dinna leave the MacRae lands. Only when he saw the pendant you gave me around her neck did he stop short of raping her.”

Her sire rubbed his beard, looking restless.

“Which makes me wonder about many things,” she continued. “The silver galley is not enchanted, and I surely never cast a protection spell on it. So why would a MacRae captain fear the symbol of a MacDonald?”

Aileana should have been basking in the joy of this family reunion, but her mother’s questions made her just as curious. The look on Broc’s face once he discovered the necklace was unmistakable. He froze like a frightened rabbit.

“Well?” Sgùrr pressed. “The mighty has been laid low.”

Cian jumped up and started to pace. “Doona push me, woman. Deception and misery follow in your wake like a plague, swallowing all who stand in your path. What do you expect me to do? I willna compromise my beliefs to accommodate you or my daughter.”

Hearing him call her his daughter made Aileana’s heart skip a beat. ’Twas the first time she’d heard him say it.

“Try answering the question,” her mother said.

“I have nothing to say on the matter. But I will put an end to our first problem. I suspect the young MacRae is on his way to Skye to face me.”

“What?” Aileana couldn’t hide her emotions.

“The day after your mother told me about your history with the man, I sent a missive to his father. Errol will face me and answer for his sins.”

“Sins?” Aileana asked. “He loves me.”

Cian glared at her. “He took advantage of ye. Bedded you without taking vows.”

Sgùrr snorted. “I remember our first time together—”

“Be silent or I’ll have you forcibly removed from my presence, Katie.”

“Sgùrr,” her mother corrected.

“Kateland Mary MacDonald,” he shot back.

Aileana covered her face with both hands, wondering how her parents had ever shut up long enough to make love. As they continued to argue, she slid from her seat and made her way outside. All she cared about now was again seeing the man she loved.