The Highlander's Folly (The Novels of Loch Moigh Book 3) (24 page)

Rubbing her gritty eyes, Meghan surveyed the village. The sun was just beginning to come up, and the air was filled with the sound of birdsong. Man, she missed coffee. She yawned as she fastened her gear to the back of her horse’s saddle. What would she give for a nice big thermos filled with medium roast with lots of sugar and cream? Her mouth watered just thinking about it.

All around her, the men she would travel with prepared to leave for Inverness. They’d gathered outside of the stables on the mainland way too early for her liking. The air held the damp chill of early morning, and the sun had just begun to brighten the eastern horizon. She yawned again, and a slight shiver sluiced through her.

“Meghan.” Hunter came up beside her. “Did you no’ sleep well?”

“No, I didn’t.” Too many things on her mind had kept her up, like losing the people here, and the possibility she might not be able to go home to the family she’d lost in the future. Plus, when she had slept, she’d dreamed about the villain she’d slain on the way to Aberdeen.

“Are you able to ride?” Hunter placed a hand on her shoulder.

Memories of being sheltered and held on his lap while they traveled filled her mind. If she said she couldn’t manage, would he hold her in front of him again? “I’m fine. I just need to wake up.” She caught a glimpse of Cecil storming out of the inn. Judging by the way he moved and the look on his face, he wasn’t happy. “Here comes trouble.”

“Och, I meant to speak to you about this at supper.” Hunter kept his eye on the approaching knight. “There have been a few changes in our plans. Mayhap ’tis best if you dinna ken what they are.”

“
What
has become of my two guardsmen?” Cecil strode toward her, his face filled with rage.

Meghan looked from him to Hunter, unsure whom he was addressing with the question.

“What mean you by your angry tone, Sir Cecil?” Hunter stepped in front of her. “How can any here ken where your men-at-arms might be? Do we command them?”

“I wouldst address the lady you shield,” he bit out. “
She
kens what has become of them.”

“Me?” Meghan scowled around Hunter’s shoulder. “I’ve never even talked to them. I had nothing to do with your stupid guards. Why would you think I did?”

“Why indeed?” Cecil snarled. “Did Nevan and his lads no’ vanish the very day you appeared?”

“Wait.” She blinked. “The other day you wanted to marry me, and now you’re accusing me of . . . What are you accusing me of now, anyway? Witchery or being a faerie? I can’t keep up.”

“Such insolence!” He raised his hand as if he meant to strike her.

She stepped out from behind Hunter. Her muscles tensed for battle, she assumed a defensive pose. “Bring it.” Hunter grabbed her arm and shoved her behind him again. “Hey,” she protested.

“Don’t be absurd, Cecil.” Tieren joined Hunter, walling her off from the angry knight. “Lady Meghan has no’ left the keep or the island for a se’nnight. Before you cast such foul accusations, mayhap ask if any of the villagers have seen your men.”

“I have done so, sir.” Cecil kept his evil eye on her. “None has aught to say.”

“So you surmise a mere lass is at fault?” Hunter grunted. “I trow you may have it aright, and a lass or two are keeping your lads bound to their beds, but ’twas no’ this lady.”

The MacKintosh warriors laughed, nudging each other with knowing glances as they moved closer to create a circle of protection. Gratitude warmed her heart. “I don’t know where your men are, Cecil. I was with Hunter’s family last night, and I never saw your guards.”

“Do you need to lay eyes upon them to work your spells?” he spat out.

“Here, now,” Angus ground out, coming to join the two men protecting her. “I was at the inn yester eve, and I had an ale or two with your guardsmen. They were both well sotted by the time I left to seek my bed. The baron DúnConnell has it aright. Your lads are sleeping it off somewhere—most likely in the arms of a couple of the village lasses.”

“The . . . the baron?” Cecil blustered. “What nonsense is this? I see no baron here.”

“He stands before you,
Sir
Cecil,” Tieren said, grabbing Hunter’s shoulder. “Hunter has the missive from King James to prove his most recent rise in rank.”

“I think it best that you travel from here to your home on your own.” Hunter’s tone held an edge of menace. “We’ll leave word with the stable master of your direction, and your guardsmen will join you once they are roused. You are no’ welcome to travel with us this day or any other.”

“Och, I . . .” Cecil stammered.

“Lady Meghan is under our protection.” Tieren widened his stance. “If you persist with your unfounded aspersions beyond the MacKintosh borders, you will answer to me. I command the soldiers who serve baron DúnConnell. He is my liege lord.”

“So you’ve decided to accept my offer?” Hunter cast Tieren a crooked grin. “My thanks. ’Twill keep you quite occupied.”

“Aye, I’ve decided to take the post, unless—”

“Mayhap you have it aright, and my guards will join us upon the road to Inverness yet this morn. Indeed, I am certain they will,” Cecil capitulated. “I’ve no wish to travel the roads alone, and there is still the matter of my armor and gear. My most sincere apologies, Lady Meghan. Once again I have wronged you.”

Her breakfast turned into an indigestible mass in her stomach. She kept her mouth shut. She wasn’t about to accept or respond to his
most insincere
apology.

“Nay.” Hunter turned to Angus. “Have four of our men escort Sir Cecil as far as the MacKintosh border to our south. When his guards are found, inform them of their master’s whereabouts and see that they leave as well. I will have your armor and gear sent to you, Sir Cecil. You have my word.”

Relieved, Meghan put her foot in the stirrup and began to hoist herself up into the saddle. Hunter’s hands encircled her waist. He lifted her off the ground and placed in the saddle as if she weighed no more than the woolen blankets fastened to the leather behind her.

Once she was settled, he placed his hands on either side of her. “You have naught to fear, lass.”

She nodded, her gaze connecting with his. Awareness and something deeper flowed between them, and she lost herself in his serious gray eyes. Saying good-bye to Hunter would be the single most difficult thing she’d ever faced in her short life. Blinking back the threat of tears, she fussed with the reins and adjusted her feet in the stirrups. “Let’s go.”

“Aye.” Hunter backed away. “We have wasted enough time. Let us depart. Tieren, take the lead. Meghan, ride behind him, and I will be right behind you.” He spared Cecil a glare. “You are no longer welcome on MacKintosh land, nor are you welcome at DúnConnell.”

“It matters no’.” Cecil took the reins of his horse from the stable lad. He mounted and swung his horse’s head around.
“
’Twill make no difference.”

Angus grabbed Cecil’s reins and held them fast. Two soldiers hastened to his side. “No’ so fast, sir. There is the matter of your
escort
to attend to.”

Meghan and her guards took off at a canter, and Hunter rode beside her, not behind her as he’d said. Once they were out of the village, she turned to him. “Where are Cecil’s guards?”

“Both of them are ensconced within the dungeon at Meikle Geddes, and there they will remain until Cecil is far from Loch Moigh.”

Once they reached the crest of the first hill, Meghan stole a last backward glance at the village. Then she turned to catch a glimpse of the island keep. Sadness tugged at her. She’d miss these good people. Erin, True, Sky and the twins had risen early to eat breakfast with her. She’d said her good-byes to everyone else the night before. Her chest ached, and a tear slid down her cheek. She wiped it away and frowned.

’Twill make no difference.
That’s what Cecil had said before they left. What did he mean by the remark? She bit her lower lip. Worry niggled at her. Once again she rode into the unknown, with the possibility of danger around each bend. Fifteenth-century Scotland was
not
for the fainthearted, that’s for sure.

She adjusted the leather belt of her scabbard where it crossed her chest. Then she checked the three sheathed daggers Robley and Malcolm had given her. The blades now hung from her belt. Two more were hidden away in each of her boots, courtesy of Erin and True. She wore her own leather tunic with the McGladrey crest, and chain mail hung heavy over her shoulders and torso.

She lifted her chin, threw back her shoulders and faced the road ahead. Nobody could accuse her of being faint of heart. No matter what came her way, she’d face it and fight.

C
HAPTER ELEVEN

H
unter couldn’t tear his eyes from his wee warrior as they rode out of the village. She checked her weapons, touching each sheathed blade to assure herself she was prepared for battle. Hadn’t he oft done the same? His heart filled with such tenderness that he ached with it. He ached with wanting her.

Meghan was such a delectable mix of vulnerability, bravery and generosity that the very sight of her elicited every protective instinct he possessed. She thought of herself as a knight, ready and able to defend those in her care. To his way of thinking, Meghan was the ideal of what every Scottish lass should be—strong, yet wholly feminine and as lovely as the gorse blooming in the glens.

She lifted her chin a proud notch and straightened her posture. Another stone in the turret he’d built around his heart broke free. He’d give his life to see her safe. The sudden realization brought a sting to the back of his eyes. The best he could do for Meghan was to see her safely returned to her home. Blinking against the burn, he turned his attention to other matters.

Scanning the sides of the road and the men behind him, he sent his senses out to make certain all was well. Then he turned his mind to everything that had transpired. In a single day his fortunes and rank had changed. His greatest wish had come true. Baron DúnConnell, no less.

Hunter spurred Doireann into a trot, joining Tieren at the front of the line. “We have much to discuss.”

“Aye.” One side of Tieren’s mouth quirked up. “Naming me your commander is bound to create resentment amongst the MacConnell warriors. Surely the present commander will demand the right to challenge me.”

“If there is a current commander.” Hunter arched a brow. “Does the possibility of a challenge trouble you?”

“Nay. ’Tis best that the matter be settled sooner rather than later. Resentment only grows with time if no’ dealt with properly.” He shifted in his saddle. “There are likely those who will try to usurp you as well. Mayhap you have cousins who will argue that, since your father was banished from your clan, you have no right to ascension.” Tieren’s expression turned somber. “Once we have trounced any who wish to test us, ’twill be important for you to hold a fealty ceremony.”

Hunter nodded. “Like you, I’d rather see matters settled straightaway. Neither of us ken what we’re walking into once we reach my holding. I trow the MacConnells have been fairly decimated by the MacKenzies.” He frowned. “Och, Tieren, for a certainty, we ride into peril on every front.”

“Dinna fash.” Tieren grinned. “Betwixt the two of us, we will turn things ’round, especially with the loan of the earl’s men-at-arms.”
Tieren glanced at him. “I am certain Giselle will not return Meghan to her time. I mean to ask her to come with me to DúnConnell.”

“Nothing is certain where Giselle is concerned.” Hunter’s jaw clenched. “I do not want her embroiled in the danger we face when I take my place as baron. She is better off in her own time with her kin to look after her.” He couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her. He’d rather live without her in his world than put her in harm’s way. “Should Giselle a
gree to send her home, do you still intend to ask Meghan if you can accompany her
?
” He held his breath. For more reasons than he cared to admit, he dreaded the answer.

“Nay.” Tieren huffed out a breath. “Someone has to guard your back, and that onerous task falls to me. The earl and your foster father made it abundantly clear where my responsibilities lie, little brother
.
”

“Onerous, eh?” Hunter said with a frown. “When did Malcolm and the earl speak to you thusly?”

“Shortly after you asked the earl for the loan of his soldiers. After everyone left, they kept me back to discuss the matter at length. I owe them a great debt. Had it no’ been for Malcolm’s sponsorship, I’d be knee-deep in barley and hops right now. I’d be brewing ale with no hope of rising above my station.” He reached out and gave Hunter a friendly shove. “Onerous indeed, for as we’ve already established, you are oft blind to what is directly before you. You need me.”

Meghan rode up between them. She glanced at Tieren, then at Hunter. “What are you talking about?”

“Och, we were discussing what needs doing once we reach DúnConnell.” Hunter couldn’t help but notice the way her face fell at his words. Why might that be? Her place was in the future where she would be safe. Surely she did not want to stay, not for him. She must have suitors aplenty in her century. She’d marry, have bairns and forget all about him. His heart wrenched at the thought.

How would he fare without his most valued advisor, his respite from emotional onslaught—his . . .
love
? Nay! He would not lose his head or his heart. Men who allowed themselves to be caught up in passion and romantic love were fools, and he was no fool.

“Thank you for sending Cecil away,” she said. “I would’ve been on pins and needles this whole trip if he’d been with us. Now I can enjoy my last few days in Scotland in peace.”

She sighed, and the sadness carried upon that single exhalation cleaved his heart in two.

“Leaving our time and Scotland saddens you, my lady?” Tieren winked at her. “If so, my offer for your hand still stands. Come to DúnConnell with me.”

Meghan said naught, but her cheeks blossomed with color, and she bit her lip. Once again jealousy and possessiveness trapped Hunter in its iron jaws. Never had he been so at odds. He wanted her for himself, and that bedeviled him more than any enemy he might face. The passion she alone elicited, the soul-deep longing to have her by his side . . . Nay, such wrenching emotions would be his downfall. He had a responsibility to his clan and to his title, and he would not be diverted.

“Of course leaving Scotland upsets me.” Meghan sighed again. “Leaving all of you, the earl and his family, never knowing how things turn out for the two of you at DúnConnell . . . It’s tearing me up inside, but the thought of never seeing my family again makes me sad too.” Her shoulders slumped. “At least in the future I’ll be able to look you up in history books. Then I’ll know whether or not . . . I’ll find out . . .”

“Tell me you dinna doubt the outcome, lass.” Tieren laughed. “I’m insulted.”

“You are not.” She grinned. “You’re way too cocky to be insulted.”

“
’Twill take a good deal of sweat and blood to turn things ’round at DúnConnell, to be sure.” Hunter grunted. “If credence can be given to the words of the wisewoman Edward spoke of, the MacConnells will prevail. I will build up our defenses so that none think to trouble us again.”

“I wonder what shape your keep is in,” Meghan mused. “Do you have any idea how many MacConnells there are, or how many soldiers you have in your service?”

“Nay.” Hunter shook his head. “My clan has been without their baron for several months. Before traveling to Loch Moigh, Edward journeyed to Stirling to inform our king of my grandsire’s demise and to register my patents with the record keepers. I imagine my holdings are in a sorry state by now.”

“I don’t know.” She tilted her head as if giving the matter a great deal of thought. “If Edward is any indication, I suspect he placed good men in positions of temporary leadership in his absence. I’ll bet he’s the current commander of your garrison. Did you think to ask him?”

“I did no’.” Hunter cast her a wry grin. “I wonder about his sons. Neither of them entered into any of our conversations, but I could no’ detect any enmity from them.” He turned to Tieren. “If indeed he is the present commander, your challenge may come from one or the other of Edward’s sons.”

“If you’re smart,” Meghan said, “you’ll form a council of elders, including Edward. That will gain your clan’s loyalty and their respect. Plus, the council will help you get to know the lay of the land.”

“
’Tis sound advice, Beag Curaidh.” Hunter gave her a slight bow. “Rest assured I will do as you suggest.”

“
’Tis a shame we did no’ spend time in the lists with Edward’s lads,” Tieren said.
“
’Twould have been advantageous to gain some measure of their skill.”

Meghan flashed them both a pointed look. “After so many years defending themselves against the MacKenzies, you’re going to find the MacConnell soldiers are either a well-oiled fighting machine or in total disarray.”

Hunter frowned. “A
well-oiled fighting machine
, like a trebuchet?”

She blew out a breath. “Your soldiers are either going to be a well-trained, tightly coordinated unit, or you’re facing a hot mess.”

“Hot mess
?
”
Tieren’s brow rose. “Did you no’ say you found me hot? Now I dinna ken whether you praised or maligned me that day.”

Meghan laughed, and the sound caused a familiar tumbling sensation in Hunter’s chest. ’Twas easy enough to grasp her meaning, and he liked it not at all that she’d told Tieren she viewed him as such. “Am I
hot
as well?” He scowled at her.

She chuckled, touched her mount’s sides with her heels and cantered ahead. “Definitely, my lord,” she called over her shoulder. “Steamy hot.”

Pleased, he smirked at Tieren. “Steamy.”

Tieren arched a brow. “Aye, steaming like a fresh pile of—”

“Dinna say it.” He spurred his horse into a canter. “You go too far ahead of us, Beag Curaidh,” he warned, once again admiring her horsemanship. When the time came, how would he manage to part with her?

Hunter surveyed the spot he’d chosen for their camp. They were close to the shores of Loch Mór, and nestled in the foothills of the Monadhliath Mountains. Well hid, and without Cecil’s presence, he worried far less. Still, he would not allow a fire. He saw no reason to tempt fate.

They’d been riding hard for two days, and in two more he and his small band would reach Inverness. “Oatcakes and jerky for supper. I dinna wish to risk a fire.”

With quick efficiency, Meghan and the men each did their part to set up camp and unsaddle their mounts. Hunter removed his gear from Doireann’s saddle, and then he placed his things where he planned to take his rest. Each night Meghan had slept betwixt him and Tieren, as she had on the journey to Aberdeenshire. Having her so close whilst not being able to make love to her was wreaking havoc upon his mood.

He’d awakened before dawn this morn, facing her with his arms around her and her head nestled against his neck. His tarse had been as hard as stone against her hip, and he’d been thrusting against her. Good thing she’d been sound asleep—even better that he’d been able to disentangle himself before anyone else noticed. He scrubbed his hands over his face and heaved a sigh.

’Twould be best to sleep a good distance from her for the rest of the journey. He had enough men to stand guard. She didn’t need to be sheltered betwixt him and Tieren any longer. Come to think on it, he didn’t want Tieren that close to her either. He sighed and returned to unsaddling Doireann.

The spot he’d chosen provided fodder for the horses and a natural enclosure of rocky outcroppings to keep their mounts from wandering. He moved to unload one of the packhorses. “Give the horses a measure of grain this eve. They’ve earned it, but form a guard to take them to the loch for a drink first.”

“I’d like to bathe in the lake if I could,” Meghan said. “Would that be possible?”

Tieren came to her side. “Whilst we water the horses, I’ll look for a likely spot. We canna let you go anywhere without a guard.”

“Fine, so long as I have my privacy,” she said.

“A screen of sorts can be fashioned with blankets and branches,” Hunter offered. “I expect we’ll all want a good wash. Take your turn first, lass.”

She nodded and went back to stowing her things and procuring her evening meal. Tieren and two other men led the horses down the path to the loch for a drink. Once the men and horses returned, Tieren picked up a few blankets, rope and a hatchet. “Gather what you need, my lady. I have chosen a place for bathing.”

Hunter fought the urge to follow. ’Twould only torment him further to be so close to Meghan whilst she bathed. Would she remove all of her clothing? His groin tightened. Growling low in his throat, he dug into his pack for jerky and a bannock. He settled himself on the ground to eat, keeping his eyes trained upon the path Tieren, Meghan and the two guards had taken to the loch.