The Fearless Highlander (Highland Defender Book 1) (5 page)

A deep crease formed between her greying eyebrows. “I nearly strung up your father by his thumbs when he came home without you.”

“Not to worry. You would have been proud to see him.” Hugh chuckled at the memory of his fearless da. “He fought with the strength of ten Highland warriors.”

Ma pressed on the cloth atop his forehead. “But he left his son in the hands of the usurper’s men.”

“Aye, there were too many of the Williamite bastards. If Da came after me, it would have been the end for all of us.”

“You could have died in there.”

“But I didn’t.” Reaching up, Hugh touched his fingers to Ma’s weathered cheek. “And now I have your gentle hands to set me to rights.”

“You’d best heal with haste.” She gave him a stern Highland mother’s stare. “Once you’ve risen from this bed I’ll expect you to help your father with the livestock. The herd has grown so large we’ll need to take some steers to market.”

“’Tis good news.”

“And then we’ll need to find you a wife.”

Bloody hell, Hugh had been conscious for all of five minutes and Ma was ready to send him to the altar. “No need to rush there.”

“Did you ken Sandy married?”

“He did?” Hugh grinned. He always thought his younger brother might end up married first—since birth the lad could win the hearts of every female within ten miles. “Who’s the lucky lass?”

A nervous chuckle pealed through Ma’s lips. “Sarah. She’s the eldest daughter of Alexander Campbell of Lochnell.”

With a spike from his heart, Hugh tried to sit up, then flopped back to the mattress. “You cannot be serious.”

“You ken the way of it. One year we pinch cattle from the Campbells, the next they raid our lands and murder our sons and daughters. Well, ’twas time your father put a stop to it.”

“But still, a Campbell, Ma?”

“That’s the way of it.” Her mouth formed a straight line with her nod. “One day you’ll be Chief of Glencoe and the people will look to you for protection. What better way than to make alliances with our greatest enemies?”

“Had I not heard it from you, I never would have believed it.” Hugh stared at the exposed ceiling beams on a sigh. “If Da wanted to make a Campbell alliance, why did he not go straight to Argyll?”

“Och, I doubt I’ll see the day when the MacIains are making alliances with the
earl
. Lochnell was enough of a stretch.” Ma’s eyes twinkled. “Sarah’s a nice lass—hard worker, too. I thought the news might come as a blow, but give her a chance. I think you’ll like her.”

Devil’s fire, to hear his mother talk, she’d practically opted to forgive all past transgressions of the earls Breadalbane and Argyll. At every turn for centuries the pair of Campbell bastards attacked MacDonald lands with fire and sword—and with not a care for women and children. And what about Sandy, the poor sop? “Is he happy?” Hugh asked.

“Och, you ken your brother. He’s content to watch the sun rise every morn. There’s not a happier lad in all the Coe. Besides, Sarah’s a sturdy lass—she’ll give him many bairns.”

He hoped to God Da kent what he was doing with the wench. Hell’s bones, Hugh would have preferred to slumber atop the feather mattress for another day before his mother bludgeoned him with the news they were now related to the Campbell Clan—a small sept at least. “Miserable bleeding hell,” Hugh groaned.

“Promise me you will not do something rash,” she said with a shake of her finger.

Right—as if Hugh would hop out of bed and kick Sarah’s sturdy, child-bearing hips back to Lochnell. “I’ll try to keep an open mind. But if she does anything to bilk or backbite my brother, so help me…”

Ma grabbed Hugh’s hand and squeezed. “The lass is well aware I’ll tolerate no nonsense on Clan Iain Abrach lands. Regardless, we must keep faith. I ken ’tis not an alliance with the house of Argyll, but ’tis a step toward harmony.” Ma released her viselike grip. “And I hope they’ll keep their grubby hands off our lands and off our wee beasties.”

Hugh sighed with a labored breath. “Forever the peacemaker, are you not, Ma?”

“Wouldn’t you rather have peace than to lay awake every night wondering if the Campbell bastards are planning to slip inside and run a dirk across your throat?”

Hugh groaned. “I’ve lived with that fear all my life—’tis what makes a MacIain tough and rock solid to his core.”

Ma smoothed her hand over his cheek. “Give it some time. You’ve had a terrible ordeal. Once you’re on your feet, take a wee hike up the Rannoch trail. The tranquility will calm your troubles away.”

Wrapped in a sealskin cloak, Charlotte stood atop the battlements and cast her gaze north, just as she had every day since last August when King William offered a pardon to all Highland Clans providing they took an oath of allegiance before New Year’s Day, 1692. Finally Papa’s letters had been heard and all surviving Jacobite prisoners had been released. Though at first Charlotte had hoped the king’s pardon would lessen the tensions in the Highlands, it only served to make things worse.

Skirmishes between government troops and Jacobites broke out in every corner, and her father had been forced to increase the patrols, using second-rate sentries who carried out their duties with abject indifference. Indeed, civil war had been imminent until mid-December when news came that the exiled King James II sent word permitting the Highland Chiefs to sign their allegiance to William and Mary.

Charlotte’s hopes for peace rose. On another note, as her father suspected, they hadn’t located Hugh MacLeod at Dunvegan or anywhere on the Isle of Skye. True, guilt had made her stomach clench every time anyone mentioned the incident—but if given the chance, she would have done it again. Since that March night when she helped Mr. MacLeod escape, Charlotte had awakened each morning with an image of his striking face emblazoned upon her vivid dreams. She’d never forget the color of his eyes. And ever since he’d made her heart flutter with his fleeting kiss, she’d looked closer at every man she happened upon. Not a one sported Hugh’s fathomless treacle brown. She was quite certain the color owed to Hugh MacLeod alone—if that indeed was his name.

Colder than usual, grey, ominous clouds hung so low, if she didn’t know the peak of Ben Nevis existed to the east, she never would have believed it loomed so near, presiding over the township. Her nose continuously ran, complaining about the relentless wind. Blanketed in white, a hush muffled the entire village as if Jack Frost put all of Fort William and Inverlochy to sleep for the winter.

This year, Mr. Frost had also sent Charlotte’s heart into seasonal slumber. Though Doctor Munro had been annoyingly clear about his romantic interest, she felt nothing for the man whatsoever. She’d been melancholy and unsettled, which wasn’t like her at all. Perhaps something was wrong with her. It certainly made no sense to stand upon the battlements in the bitter cold, searching for someone who quite possibly was an outlaw in his own right—a menace to everything her father stood for. Mr. MacLeod could very well be a member of the thieving clans that infested the Highlands, preying upon and stealing from each other, all the while having no respect for the interred government that ruled them. Of course, those were her father’s words.

Thus far, Charlotte had seen no reason to abhor the Highlanders.

Some plaid-wearing men served in her father’s garrison—clans like Menzies, though they were oft regarded with more contempt than respect. True, they dressed in bold tartans that exposed their knees, and they mostly kept to themselves. Highlanders probably didn’t mix with the others because there was no encouragement to do so.

Marching in place, Charlotte tried to stave off the bitter cold—rather unsuccessfully. The holiday season was upon them, and fewer travelers mulled through Inverlochy’s streets, though in the past fortnight they’d been flooded with clansmen all accompanying their chiefs to pledge their fealty to King William.

“I thought I’d find you up here.” Rubbing the outside of her arms, Emma hastened forward. “My, ’tis freezing.”

“Where is your cloak?” Charlotte asked, opening hers and putting her arm around her serving maid’s shoulders.

“Never mind that, Colonel Hill asked to see you straight away.”

Charlotte’s back tensed. Father usually saved their daily conversations for after supper. “Did he mention why?”

“To me?” Emma rolled her eyes. “Your father wouldn’t tell me if the sky was falling.”

“Oh stop. He isn’t all that bad.” They headed to the stairwell and down the winding steps.

“Mayhap not to you.”

“He’s an inordinately busy man.”

Arriving outside the governor’s door, Emma primped Charlotte’s curls. “I know, and I’m ever so glad he employed me to look after you.”

With a grin, Charlotte grabbed Emma’s hands and squeezed them. “As am I.”

Taking a deep inhale, she opened the door. “Good evening, Papa. You wanted to see me?”

The colonel rested his quill in the silver stand and stood from his writing desk. Though a fire crackled in the hearth, she could still see his breath. “Ah yes, Charlotte, my dear.” He spread his arms and beckoned her into his embrace. “How are you?”

“Well.”

His brows pinched together as he inclined his face down to look at her. “I’ve noticed you’ve not quite been your energetic self as of late. Is something troubling you?”

Oh Lord, if she told him she’d fallen in love with the man who’d escaped the surgery nine months ago, he would declare her completely daft. Besides, how on earth could she merely have a conversation with a man, lead him to safety, give him a hurried kiss and fall in love? Perhaps her mind was addled. Love at first sight only happened in books—and usually a princess had to kiss a toad to find her prince. “I think ’tis simply the season,” she finally said. “I do miss Mama so very much.” Honestly, she did. Mother had fallen ill and passed away when Charlotte was but ten.

Papa released his grasp on her shoulders and turned his head. “I must admit I do share your pensive feelings toward the season. Christmas should be a time of great joy, yet I fear my own mournful woes have had a profound effect on you.”

“’Tis not that.”

“No, I believe it is.” He strode toward the hearth, scratching his chin. “And I have been ever so selfish in keeping you to myself. You see, you are the only bright rose in this wretched soldier’s life.”

“Oh dear, don’t say that, Papa.” She’d never considered her father might be lonely. Heavens, most of her life, he’d been away from home. Even after Mama passed, Charlotte had lived with her aunt and uncle in London while her father tirelessly served in the king’s army. Her ten-month turn at Fort William had been the longest span of time she’d ever spent with her father. It seemed every day she grew to know him better. He was far more human and less stringent than she’d realized. Though an ardent soldier, he experienced emotions like any other person. Why Charlotte found that odd, she had no idea. Surely Papa had needs just like anyone else. “Do you…do you want to remarry?”

He faced her and chuckled. “You are a dear, forever thinking of everyone’s needs but your own.” He reached out and grasped her hands. “To be honest, I believe it is past time for
you
to wed.”

Her heart stopped. Worse, her head swooned. They were three days from celebrating the New Year, and Papa wanted her to… “Me?”

“Yes.” For a moment Father smiled like he used to when Mama was alive. “Doctor Munro has asked my permission to court you.”

Her corset suddenly became too tight for her to manage a breath. To be courted by the physician? But she had no feelings for the man whatsoever. “Munro?” she said as if it were the first time she’d uttered the physician’s name. Thank heavens Father hadn’t already summoned the priest. She wouldn’t have been inordinately surprised if he had. One of her first observations was that Colonel Hill always acted decisively. Once Papa set his mind on something, there was little chance he’d waver.

“Why, yes, you’ve made quite an impression assisting him in the surgery. He’s a good man and well respected in Edinburgh. You’d live in a manse, have plenty of servants. My grandchildren would be well looked after.” Papa rattled off the positives as if he were calculating sums.

Grandchildren?
Father definitely spoke out of turn. Charlotte clutched her chest, straining to breathe. “I cannot—” Swooning, she toppled backward.

“Charlotte!” Papa caught her elbow before she collapsed to the floor. “What the devil?”

She fanned her face while he led her to a chair.

His thick, greying eyebrows drew together. “I thought you would be elated with this news.”

Taking in deep inhales, she recovered her senses enough to speak. “The physician is very capable, indeed, but I do not
love
him.” Honestly, over the past months she’d grown to like him less and less, coming up with excuses to avoid the surgery whenever possible.

“Love?” Papa ran his hand over her crown. “My dear child, what ideals you must hold in your fanciful head.”

“I do…I-I-I—um.” This was definitely not something she wanted to discuss with Papa. But she could not allow her tongue to tie while her future hung in the balance. “Shouldn’t there be some sort of attraction? I-I mean, shouldn’t my future husband be pleasing to the eye?”

He waved a dismissive hand through the air. “Fondness, love, allure—all that comes in time. In fact, I didn’t marry your mother until I was one and forty.” He took the seat opposite her. “But I would be remiss if I didn’t ask if there is another officer who might be more to your fancy?”

Charlotte folded her hands in her lap and looked down. “No.”
Just a braw Highlander whom I’ll never again see
.

“Surely you’ve thought about marriage. I know I have been a tad remiss in my fatherly duties since accepting this post at Fort William, but do not all young maidens dream of the day a gallant man will ask for her hand? The physician is a learned man—definitely no slouch in anyone’s eyes.”

Papa hasn’t seen him at work in the surgery
. “He’s not very pleasant when it comes to attending prisoners.”

Father chuckled. “Nor should he be. If anyone is to blame for his lack of manners when tending thieves and murderers, it is I.”

Charlotte tried another approach. “Let us hope with the Highlanders pledging allegiance to King William things will soon settle and we can return to London. If I am to marry, I think an Englishman would suit.”

“Unfortunately we are a long way from London, my dear.” Papa sat back and frowned. “I wouldn’t raise my hopes about peace in the Highlands. There are still a number of clan chiefs who have not yet sworn allegiance. And mark me, the king will not be lenient with those who fail to visit the sheriff.”

“I’m certain he will not,” Charlotte’s voice trailed off. In her one and twenty years of life, Charlotte had never witnessed leniency from the crown. Honestly, the amnesty offered to the Jacobites and the release of the prisoners from the battle of Dunkeld was the most lenient act she’d seen from the Williamite government.

Father reached out and grasped her hand. “I will grant my approval for this courtship. You will be chaperoned by either Mrs. Emma or a guard when Doctor Munro comes to call.”

“But—”

He shook his head. “I ask only that you give this match serious thought. But keep in mind I will not be around forever and you will need a husband to see to your maintenance.”

Still looking down, Charlotte nodded.

Papa cleared his throat. “Will you do that for me?”

“Yes,” she whispered. She hadn’t thought about how much of a burden she must be for her father. So many doubts swarmed in her head. Was she the reason Papa hadn’t remarried? Could she be the cause of his unhappiness? The lines across his brow had grown ever so furrowed in the time he’d been at Fort William. Charlotte had always assumed the pressure from governing a fortress in the midst of the highest population of Jacobites and Highland rebels was the cause of his despondency, and the reason for the way he’d become curt at times…and the decreasing amount of time he spent with her.

I was blind to think his duties were the reason
.

Papa moved to his writing desk. “If there is nothing else, I’ve some missives to pen before supper.”

“Of course.” Charlotte stood. “Is there anything I can do to help ease your burden?”

He straightened and looked her in the eye. “Well, I do believe we’ve just had a lengthy discussion about that, have we not?”