The Bold Heart (The Highland Heather and Hearts Scottish Romance Series) (25 page)

“Lord Gray.” Merry choked in surprise.

“My apologies for the rough awakening.” Julian’s gaze swept her from head to toe as a gleam of amusement entered his eye. “I sought to surprise Ewan, but there’s little chance of doing that healthily with this fierce warrior. ‘Tis fortunate I thought to draw my sword, or else I’d have lost my head, aye?”

“Nay,” Ewan disagreed with a slight smile. “Not so fierce a warrior, Julian.”

“But ye would have sliced my neck!” his cousin protested, throwing his head back in a laugh. And then his keen eyes shifted between Merry and Ewan a moment before adding, “Ruan will be pleased to see ye, Merry. He was fair concerned to learn ye’d run off.”

“Aye,” she cleared her throat, still looking a little stunned.

But Ewan lifted a curious brow. “And did Ruan receive my letter?” he asked.

Julian shrugged. “Not when I’d left, but I havena seen the man for almost a sennight. I was on my way to meet Archibald when I saw Diabhul grazing on the moor. ‘Tis fortunate he escaped his tether or else I never would have found ye.”

At the mention of Diabhul, Merry excused herself and swiftly ran off, and 
Ewan couldn’t resist allowing his eyes a quick appreciative dip over her slim figure as she left.

Julian didn’t miss it. With his cheek creasing into a grin, he began to nod slowly. But when he spoke, he only said, “I was on my way down to Carlisle to rescue ye when I’d heard the task was already done.”

“Aye,” Ewan said with a nod, moving to kick the fire back to life.

He told him then of Merry’s brave rescue, Cunningham’s betrayal, and Alec’s death.

“Hugh Cunningham,” Julian repeated the name grimly. “He’s riding with the Galwegians to fight for the Prince. I saw him not a day ago. ‘Tis like the devil’s spawn to play both sides.”

“I’ll see him hanged for what he did to Alec,” Ewan swore.

“Aye, but ‘tis really a matter for Cameron, lad,” Julian replied with a note of caution. “‘Twas at Cunningham’s bidding that the Galwegians came to our call.”

“Are ye telling me that Alec’s death will go unavenged—” Ewan began in an angry tone.

“Nay,” Julian interrupted with a mirthless laugh. “Much can happen in the foggy field of battle, aye? I’ve ridden hard lately and have learnt that the Duke of Montrose has mustered an army sufficient in number to fight the prince. They’re on their way now to Stirling with the king. But his force is small compared to ours, if we can engage him afore the northern clans arrive.”

Ewan fell silent. 
War. 
Another war.

Julian read his expression. “Aye, there is no stopping the king now, I fear,” he said quietly.

“And our men?” Ewan asked grimly. “Where are we mustering?”

“Even now the Earl of Angus is bringing the prince’s army to Stirling, pressing on from Falkirk to the plain above Torwood Bridge,” Julian replied with a tired yawn. “He’s not far from here, I’d think.”

Ewan scowled.

He’d never cared for Archibald Douglas, the Earl of Angus, Lord of the East March. He cared for him even less after the man had let him rot in Carlisle for a month.

Julian read his face and sent him a commiserative smile.

“Can ye trust him?” Ewan couldn’t help but ask. “The man has betrayed us afore. More than once he’s brought Englishmen to our land.” Aye, he’d fought the man himself at the Battle of Lochmaben not that long ago.

Julian chuckled. “Aye, but remember, the man betrayed James, Ewan. Not Scotland. He’s fought to get rid of the king from the beginning, and if there’s one thing I trust, it’s Archibald on the opposite side of the battlefield from the king.”

“I suppose,” Ewan grunted reluctantly and then switched subjects. “Are ye coming with me to Stirling? I shall see Merry sent home, but I would see Ruan first.”

“Nay, my task is not yet done, lad,” his cousin said, clasping him upon the shoulder. “But I’ll ride with ye until the crossroads.”

A few years ago, he’d been quite surprised to discover that his scandalous cousin had actually created his unsavory reputation to mask his activities as a spy for Scotland. He gave Julian a nod, grateful that Scotland had such a man fighting for her.

Merry returned then, and Julian shared with them a quick meal of honey-spiced almonds and salted beef.

“And how fares your wife and son?” Merry asked when they’d finished.

Julian’s eyes lit with a smile. “I miss them sorely,” he replied. “But they’ll return home from the continent by midsummer. I can only hope matters have been settled by then, and I can return to Castle Huntly and sleep the day long.”

They all laughed then, knowing that Julian would never be satisfied with such a life.

And then as white clouds passed lazily over the sun, they saddled their horses and headed once again toward Stirling.

Less than an hour later, they’d arrived at the crossroads only to hear the sound of jingling bits and the snorts of many approaching horses.

“’Tis Archibald,” Julian announced with a grin and waved his hand.

He’d scarcely spoken before a horseback party of men with upright spears rode around the bend in the road. They were led by the sturdy built red-haired, broad-faced Archibald Douglas, the Earl of Angus and Lord of the East March.

Archibald drew his mount up before them. “Well met, MacLean,” he greeted him with a broad grin. “Last I heard ye were in Carlisle, in a bit of trouble with that Montgomery.”

Ewan drew back as if he’d been slapped. “Alec’s dead,” he answered curtly.

Archibald blinked in surprise. “Then they hung him that quickly, aye? I thought we had more time.”

Ewan clenched his jaw. The man had let them rot in a dungeon for over a month. How much time had he wanted? But he knew there was little to be gained by mentioning it now. Instead, he answered, “Nay, Alec died not even two days ago by the hand of the Cunninghams. ‘Twas a cowardly ambush.”

“Ach, the Cunninghams?” the earl dismissed with a grunt and tapped his finger impatiently on his saddle horn. “’Tis no small surprise, aye? That feud will never end.”

It was a callous reply, but Ewan had really expected nothing more from the man.

“And who’s this?” Archibald turned his gaze on Merry. “Your squire?”

Ewan glanced over at Merry. Soon it would be time to put an end to the charade, but not yet. Not when the eyes of many men were upon her. “Aye,” he nodded once.

Julian’s lips twitched into a smile, but he remained silent.

And then Archibald was inviting them to share a meal, and as his men set up a trestle table of fish, cheese, and good wine, they dismounted.

“We’re en route to join Lords Hailes and Hume,” the earl said, rubbing his hands together as if in anticipation. He then gave a little cackle. “They’ve men from Annandale with them, and ye know how those lads are. They could swing a sword afore they could walk, aye? They’re only happy if they’re on a battlefield.”

Talk turned to war for a time, a subject Ewan was strangely adverse to. Instead, he focused his attention upon Merry sitting cross-legged by his side, and soon he’d lost track of the earl’s conversation entirely until the red-haired man reached over and slapped his knee.

“And ye?” the earl asked. “Will we see ye wed to Iona afore summer’s end, lad?”

At that, Merry’s lip curved into an impish smile, and Ewan merely lifted his brow in response before turning to the earl.

“Nay, I’ll not be wedding Iona,” he replied calmly. “I’ve been bewitched by a bonny high-spirited lass from the Isles whom I’ll be taking to wife as soon as I may.” He caught Merry’s gaze then and held it.

Her large brown eyes twinkled in response.

“I canna believe what my ears have just heard,” Julian said then, bursting into laughter. “Ach, I was suspicious, but I canna believe it. Ewan MacLean in love? I didna know there was a lass to walk the Earth who could melt his heart of stone.” Turning to Merry, his grin broadened as he teased, “Aye, I would fain meet this wondrous woman.”

“Ye will, right soon enough,” Ewan murmured with a cautioning frown. “But I would speak to her brother first.”

“And if he deems ye unsuitable?” Julian chuckled with a curious brow. “Ye know how some Isle men can be when it comes to their wee sisters, lad.”

“Aye,” Merry bantered in a teasing tone. “What would ye do then?”

Ewan met her eyes. Aye, a man could get lost in her mischievous brown eyes. “Mayhap I’d just abduct her,” he said as his lips tugged into a smile.

“I’d advise against that, lad,” Archibald said loudly, draining the contents of his goblet, completely unaware of the undercurrent of their conversation. “There was a time that was a perfectly suitable means, but times are changing a wee bit now. You’ll soon be an earl in your own right, aye? ‘Tis best if there’s no doubt of the sanctity of your marriage.”

Irritated, Ewan rose to his feet. His father was not dead yet.

Growing all at once weary of Archibald’s brash ways, he bowed and announced they must continue their journey. 
Farewells were said all around, and soon enough, both he and Merry once again took to the road at a fast gallop.

They rode hard the entire day, and when the sun set, they were still two hours away from Stirling.

Pausing on the outskirts of a village, Ewan nodded at an inn. “Would ye care to sleep, lass, or ride on?”

“Nay, I’ve no desire to sleep in a flea-infested bed with three other men,” Merry answered with a wry grin.

Ewan lifted a brow, and his gaze fell to her full lips. “Aye, and I wouldna allow such a thing,” he said and then frowned. Nay, the only man’s bed she’d be sleeping in was his own.

But he’d scarcely thought the words before she’d already urged Diabhul forward.

And then with a gleeful laugh, she called a challenge over her shoulder. “The night is still young, and the moon is bright. I’ll see Stirling long afore ye, Ewan!”

He watched as she raced ahead, shaking his head a little and admiring her spirit. 
He doubted any horse could match stride with Diabhul. 
He knew for certain that the horse he rode couldn’t. 
But clucking at the beast all the same, he set off after her.

The next few hours were uneventful, and soon enough, the ancient fortress of Stirling Castle appeared before them with the majestic highlands rising behind it. Perched on the rocky outcrop overlooking the town like a hawk, the castle glinted in a moonlight so bright that even at a distance, they could see the blue-shadowed roofs of the town below. The River Forth flowed around the base of the hill, glistening like a silver snake.

Ewan was relieved to see no sign yet of the king’s army, and he fervently wished it would stay that way. He had no desire to lift a sword again.

Riding through the belt of trees clustered at the base of the cliffs, they turned their horses’ heads to gallop up Castle Hill. The sound of their hooves rang unnaturally loud as they wound their way through Stirling’s narrow, cobblestoned streets.

And then they arrived at the castle gate and were admitted at once.

The hour was late, but the governor of the castle, Shaw of Sauchie, was still awake. With a gruff voice, he informed Ewan that Ruan and Cameron were still in Linlithgow but were expected back soon.

Then Ewan made certain Merry was assigned a comfortable chamber before retiring to a room of his own.

It was an inviting place, airy and with white-washed walls and a fine feather mattress. And leaning back upon the bed, he folded an arm over his face, willing himself to fall instantly to sleep. 
But this night, his sleep was a fitful one. 
But it wasn’t because of the vague nightmares still rippling through his mind.

Nay, it was because he sorely missed Merry by his side.

Dawn came, and he greeted it with his usual sense of relief.

Stepping into the outer chamber, he was pleased to find a hot bath and a fresh saffron-colored shirt with a crisp MacLean plaid draped over a nearby chair, and s
inking into the hot refreshing water, he began to scrub the weeks of dirt and grime away.

* * *

Merry rose at the crack of dawn.

She’d learned from a maid that Kate, the Countess of Lennox, currently resided in the castle. It had been awhile since she’d last seen Kate, but the two had shared a warm friendship over the years since they’d screamed together on Skye’s shell-covered beaches in the days before Kate had wed Cameron.

Slipping down the stairwell and out into the courtyard, she made her way to the royal apartments.

She was stopped at once by the guards. 
Finally resorting to bribery, she scribbled a message on a scrap of parchment and slouched against the building’s cold stones to wait as one of them delivered it to the countess. 
Ach, she couldn’t really blame the men. She supposed she
did
look the part of a young rascal, but it was irritating all the same.

Fortunately, she did not have to wait long.

She could hear Kate’s brusque tone taking the guards to task long before the wee countess herself appeared to envelop Merry in a warm, welcoming hug.

Kate was a dark-haired, lovely woman with sparkling brown eyes and a way of setting all at ease with her quick sense of humor.

“Ye make a right winsome lad, Merry,” she said, wrinkling her nose into a laugh as she pulled Merry into the royal apartments. “Ruan’s been in a fair dither over where ye were, though he had his suspicions. He sent three men after ye.”

“They didna find me,” Merry replied. She sighed. There would be no avoiding Ruan’s anger when he returned. And then noticing the countess’ expanded girth, she gasped. “And are ye with child, Kate?”

Kate laughed again. “Aye, after bearing six wee lassies, I do so want a lad,” she answered, patting her protruding belly.

“And what if ‘tis another wee lass?” Merry asked in amusement as they headed down the narrow corridor lined with tapestries.

“Then Cameron would be pleased,” Kate answered. Her smile was wry as she rolled her eyes. “He frets so. With a lad, he’d carry the name of Stewart, and as such, Cameron fears there might one day be those who would seek to use him for political gain. Ach, the Stewarts! Always fighting amongst themselves over the throne, aye?”