The Highlander's Vow (Loch Moigh #4) (2 page)

“Nor will I let aught happen to
Da
.” David’s mouth quirked up. “Dinna fash, Ma. We’re MacKintosh.”

“Even the MacKintosh are vulnerable to a wild boar’s wrath,” her mother murmured, her expression tight with concern.

“Have you
seen
aught,
mo céile
?” her da asked.

When something threatened their clan, she or her mother oft had visions of the impending danger. Her mother shook her head just as the earl of Mar stood and gave the signal for those wishing to hunt to gather at the stables. The men filtered out, leaving those few ladies who had come to see them off. Sky picked at her meal, her thoughts upon the conversation she meant to have with Oliver.

“There’s something in the air. I sense it, but I can’t quite tease out what it means.” Her mother propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her fists. Even after all these years, her speech and mannerisms still set her apart, foreign.

Her mother, Lady True, as she was called by their clan, as well as Lady Erin and Hunter’s wife, Lady Meghan, had all come to the MacKintosh clan from the future. Sky shuddered at the thought of being so unwillingly displaced. Another
adventure
she wished to avoid. “Och, with so many about, such unsettling feelings are bound to occur. The very air is rife with rivalries, envy and gossip.”

“Hmm. Speaking of envy, don’t think I haven’t picked up on a certain lass’s resentment toward you.”

“Wheesht.” Sky searched the hall for any who might be listening. “I am aware as well, but I sense no ill intent. ’Tis only jealousy,” she said, leaning close and lowering her voice to barely a whisper. “I’m no’ concerned.” Should she share her plan with her mother? Nay. Not until she’d had a chance to sort things out with Oliver.

What if he wouldn’t agree to release her? One of the bits of gossip she’d gleaned whilst here was that Lady Alice’s father, like so many other minor barons, was near to impoverished in these trying times. Alice’s dowry was scant, while Sky came to the union rich with land and a nice fat purse, not to mention the alliance their union would secure between the Erskine and MacKintosh clans. “All will be well,” she murmured, trying to convince herself.

True’s eyes grew bright. “I will miss you so much, Sky. I . . . I can’t believe my firstborn, my baby girl, is leaving the nest.” She clasped Sky’s hands.

“I will miss you as well.” Sky’s chest tightened and she studied her mother’s features, memorizing every beloved detail. “Come, let us retire to the ladies’ solar and sit with the others for a bit of gossip. ’Twill keep our minds off the sorrow of parting, at least for a bit.”

“I know you don’t feel anything for Oliver.” Her mother’s grip tightened on Sky’s hands. “I don’t like the way things are done in this time at all. Everything is so political. Heartless. If your father and I hadn’t handfasted while your grandsire was away ransoming King James, you’d—”

“If you and Da hadn’t wed, I would no’ have been born, and we would no’ be having this discussion.” Sky squeezed her ma’s hands and then released her. She rose and smoothed the skirt of her gown. “Let us speak no more on the subject. A few hours with a needle and thread will calm us both.”

Like her mother, Sky had taken well to sewing, beading and embroidery. Next to the healing arts, they’d become her favorite pastimes. Following the countess of Mar and the other ladies, she and her mother made their way to the solar. Sky found the basket holding her things and settled into her latest project, a wee garment for Hunter and Meghan’s new bairn. ’Twould be a lass this time. Hunter’s fae abilities had made it possible for him to discern as much. Sky bent her head over her task and stitched away the minutes.

Glancing out the narrow window, Sky gauged the hours that had already passed. Hadn’t she vowed to find Oliver? Yet here she sat, whiling away the day. Biting her bottom lip, she put her things back into her basket. A strange restlessness took hold, and a sense of urgency unfurled within her. “If you will excuse me, my lady,” she said, bowing slightly to the countess of Mar. “I wish to stretch my legs for a bit.”

“You have my leave, Lady Sky.” The countess barely lifted her head from the tapestry before her. “We will expect you for the midday meal.”

“For certes.” Sky’s mother had left earlier, intending to roust Helen. After tucking her basket into a corner, she left for the great hall. Mayhap one of the servants could tell her where she might find Oliver.

As she neared the stairs, she heard muffled voices coming from the earl’s solar. Sensing a woman’s anger, Sky moved closer. Her skin turned to gooseflesh, and her heart rose to her throat. She recognized that voice and the bitterness assailing her from behind the heavy oak door.
Lady Alice.
Tilting her head, she strained to hear what was being said, willing all of her fae gifts to aid her.

“I mean what I say, Oliver. If you wed the MacKintosh lass, ’twill be the end of us. From that wretched day forward, I will have naught to do with you, for you will have proven yourself faithless where I am concerned.”

“Now, now, my love, if you would but listen, you would—”

“I
have
listened, and I believed all the sweet words and promises you plied me with. We grew up together, Oliver. I have loved you for as long as I can remember, and you
said
you loved me. You led me to believe that I would be your wife, and now I find I have been deceived. You have played me false,” she wailed. “I am ruined!”

“Nay. You dinna understand.” Oliver’s tone hardened. “My grandsire holds the title of Mar, but no’ the lands or even this keep.”

“What? How can this be? Is the property no’ entailed to the title?”

“Nay. Alexander Stewart took the earldom and estates by force and—”

“Aye. All ken the story, my lord,” Alice snapped. “Alexander, the bastard son of the Wolf of Badenoch, murdered the countess of Mar’s husband, laid siege to Kildrummy and forced the countess to marry him. He stole the title and the estates. ’Twas long before our time, and your grandsire holds the title now. What has that to do with—”

“Be patient. Alexander traded the earldom of Mar and all
our
lands away to King James in exchange for a more appealing title—one that none could claim he’d taken illegally. My line are kin to the original holders of Mar, which is why my grandsire was able to reclaim the title, but King James has refused to grant us back the estates. Grandsire has petitioned the court to have the properties returned to us, but—”

“Why am I just now hearing of this?” Alice asked accusingly.

“None but our family are privy to the truth of the matter. Indeed, you must say naught about this to
anyone
.”

“Surely your family holds other titles and properties not associated with the earldom of Mar. Lord Robert is laird to the Erskine clan, is he no’?”

“Aye, we have another holding, but the land is scant and poor. I will inherit very little, and because of my grandsire’s persistence in his suit against the throne, our king is threatening to strip us of even the title of Mar. Our clan’s very future is in jeopardy. Do you no’ see,
mùirninn
? I must marry the MacKintosh lass.

“Lady Sky brings both land and wealth to the union, and once we are wed, all that comes to me. Indeed, Grandsire feigned insult against the MacKintosh clan all those years ago for the broken betrothal between Malcolm and my mother. Even then Grandsire sought to gain from the situation. His sole purpose in agreeing to a union between myself and Lady Sky is to gain a portion of what the MacKintosh hold.”

A chill coursed through Sky, but his words didn’t surprise her. ’Twas the way things were done amongst the nobility, the way nobles advanced their standing and wealth. Only merchants and villeins could wed at will.

“I’m marrying Lady Sky for us, Alice. You must see ’tis so.”

“For us?” Alice bit out. “How will your lady wife bring
me
aught but heartbreak?”

“Be at ease. I shall not be wed to her for long.”

“What mean you to do, Oliver?”

Sky covered her mouth, suppressing the cry threatening to alert the two of her presence. Waves of shock and fear weakened her knees as Oliver’s intent overwhelmed her. She could scarce draw a breath and had to force herself to stay and hear the rest.

“Think, Alice. Lady Sky shall fall prey to an unfortunate accident or a mysterious illness. Be patient, my dearest. Another year is all I ask, and then we shall be wed and live out the rest of our days in comfort.”

All the blood left Sky’s head, and spots danced before her eyes. Oliver intended to kill her. Dear God, how had she become embroiled in such a heinous plot? She inched away as quietly as she could. The door behind her opened, and she fled, praying the two conspirators hadn’t seen her.

She ran to the chamber she shared with her sister, hoping her ma and Helen were still within. Her mother would ken what to do. Sky threw open the door and nearly tumbled through in her haste, only to find the room empty. Mayhap Helen and Ma were out gathering the first shoots of some healing herb or another. Her da and brother would be in the forest hunting. Pacing, she bit her lip.
Think.

Oliver would have to wed her first in order to claim her dowry, and that would never happen. Not now. She could wait until this eve to reveal what she’d learned to her family, but . . . nay. The thought of staying in this place even another moment sickened her.

What if Oliver realized she’d uncovered his plans? The door had opened behind her as she’d left the earl’s solar. Had he caught sight of her as she fled? If he was ruthless enough to murder her, surely he was ruthless enough to force her into marrying him—like Alexander Stewart had done long ago with poor Isabel, the countess of Mar. Mayhap the Erskines would hold her family hostage at Kildrummy, threatening to do them harm to gain her compliance.

Panic overwhelmed her. She couldn’t allow anything to happen to her family. She needed to find her da and brother before the Erskines had time to conspire against them any further. She’d tell her sire everything. They’d gather their guards and leave for home immediately before the Erskines had time to act. Aye, haste was of the upmost importance.

Grabbing her cloak from its peg, she struggled to bring her panic under control. Once she found her da and brother, all would be well. ’Twas a sound plan. Sky raced out of the chamber and down the stairs.

Dread stole her breath. What kind of accident had Oliver planned for her? Would he push her down a steep stairwell like the one she now trod, or send her plummeting over a parapet? Did he mean to poison her? She hurried across the great hall and out the door. Lifting her hem, she ran to the stables.

“Good morn to you, my lady.” The stable lad’s eyes widened at her breathless state. “Do ye wish to ride?”

“Aye. Bridle my mare, and be quick about it. No need for the saddle.” The lad disappeared into the shadows of the stable, and Sky paced again. Her mind turned over every possible way her betrothed could do away with her. The lad returned, leading her horse. She took the reins from him and tossed them over her mount’s head. “Help me up,” she commanded, gripping her mare’s mane.

He cupped his hands. “Aye, my lady.”

One of her father’s guards hurried up to her. “Lady Sky, where might ye be off to in such a hurry?”

“I need to find my father and brother.” Her horse pranced beneath her, and she tightened the bit.

“Wait but a moment, and I’ll accompany you,” the guard said.

“Nay. Follow as soon as you can.” She turned to the stable lad. “Which way did the hunting party set out?” He pointed. “Catch up with me,” she told the guard. “The trail will be easy enough to follow.” With that, she kicked her mare into a gallop and set out to find her kin—and safety.

Once past the heavily trodden ground near the curtain walls, Sky found the newly churned earth caused by the hunting party. She slowed her pace to a canter and followed. She’d been riding but half a league when the trail cut into the forest. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw two MacKintosh guards riding after her, the one she’d spoken to at the stables and another. Some of her tension eased.

Pausing until the guards were closer, Sky nodded to them and nudged her mare onto the trail into the wood at a gallop. The need to find her da rode her hard, as if Oliver, rather than MacKintosh guards, gained ground behind her. Keeping her eyes on the signs left by the hunters, she raced on.

Movement from a clearing ahead caught her eye. Shimmering pale pink and green light rose from the very earth, and she was heading straight for it at a gallop. An unfamiliar energy and the scent of impending rain filled the air. “By the Holy Mother, nay!”

With all her might, she pulled the reins to turn her mount away. Her mare’s ears flattened, and the whites of her eyes showed. Her sweet, good-natured palfrey planted her hooves, bunched her haunches beneath her and bucked. Without pommel or cantle to grip, Sky flew through the air—straight for the wavering light.

She tried to twist away, but a powerful force gripped her, drawing her into a gyre of punishing pressure pushing and tearing at her from all sides. Wood and sky disappeared. Utter darkness broken by eerie flashes of light flew by. Sky screamed, closed her eyes and curled into a ball.
Saints preserve me!
She kent well what held her. Hadn’t she sat at her mother’s knee throughout her childhood, listening to the terrible tales told by her kin of falling through time?

Just when she could bear no more, she thudded to an abrupt halt upon soft dirt. The smell of fresh dung filled her nostrils. She became aware of pounding hoofbeats drawing near, and the cries and gasps from a crowd filled her senses. She opened her eyes a crack, only to find the large, sharp hooves of a war horse cantering straight for her. Had she survived the excruciating force, only to be trampled to death by a destrier?

Covering her head and curling into a ball again, Sky closed her eyes. She waited for the pain of being trampled. Instead, the air around her stirred as the horse leaped over her. She dared to open her eyes again. Peeking out from between her arms, she saw a knight in full armor with a jousting lance gripped in his hand. Shouts and screams from the spectators assaulted her ears, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from the knight.