To Steal a Highlander's Heart (16 page)

Somehow
Margot scrabbled to her feet and pushed Alana down into the water. She coughed
as water seeped up her nose and into her mouth but she forced herself up and turned,
kicking out at Margot. Alana gritted her teeth as the woman fell into the loch
with a scream and she grabbed her skirts, hauling her close so she could bring
a fist down on her again. Blood blossomed from Margot’s nose and oozed down her
face.

Dazed,
Margot tried to crawl away but Alana kept a determined grip on her clothing,
the fabric ripping as Morgann’s stepmother tried to free herself.

“Ye
willnae get away,” Alana spat as Margot’s thrashing drenched her in freezing
water. “Ye’ve taken everything and I will make ye pay for what ye’ve done, I
swear it.”

Her
fist throbbed, lungs ached but Morgann’s face swam in front of her, images of
their lovemaking plagued her, words of love lingered, and fired her anger as
she pinned Margot beneath her, holding back her arms.

The
dark-haired woman opened her palms. “Pray cease. Forgive me,” she sobbed. “I’ll
no’ fight anymore. Just dinnae hurt me.”

Alana
sucked in a long breath and studied the woman as the roar of the fire echoed in
her ears. Loosening her hold on her wrists, she eased away. As much as she
wanted to tear Margot apart, she couldn’t bring herself to. Nay, the MacRaes could
decide her fate.

But
then she caught a glint of something in Margot’s expression. A hint of a smile
or a spark of triumph. Margot shoved suddenly at Alana but she reacted quickly,
smacked her forehead into hers and knocked the woman out cold.

Sinking
back into the water, Alana rubbed at her head and grimaced at the tender spot
she felt. Margot floated at the water’s edge and, with a sigh, Alana clambered
out and dragged her onto the bank.

She
lay across the pebbled shoal and finally released the sob that had been
building inside her. Tears dripped down her face, mingling with the water from
the loch. Behind her, the castle groaned as it surrendered to the flames.

She
tried to control her ragged breathing but her chest ached too much. She may
have lain there for only moments but time seemed to drift as her world fell
from beneath her. She glanced over at the woman who had destroyed it. Somehow
she needed to get her to Glencolum. Morgann’s mount still waited for her
master, tugging at her reins as if she knew what had happened to him. Alana
swallowed the knot of grief trapped in her throat and came to her feet.

Her
knees shook as she walked unsteadily to the horse’s side and untethered her.
She whinnied as Alana smoothed a palm over her muzzle and urged her over to the
water’s edge. Caraid obediently dropped to the ground while Alana dragged
Margot over. The slender woman was not particularly heavy but her waterlogged
clothes made it hard to lift her over the saddle. Alana took little care in
hefting her over, taking bitter enjoyment in carting her around like a sack.

Palms
pressed to her eyes, she blotted away fresh tears and inhaled deeply as she dug
into Morgann’s leather pouch and pulled some rope from it. She stroked the
twine, remembering a time when it had been held in Morgann’s hands, before
tying it tightly around Margot’s limp wrists. Hopefully that would hold her
until Alana returned to Glencolum and Finn could ensure justice prevailed.

Even
though it was painful to look at, she turned to eye the still burning remnants
of the castle. Dust and smoke swirled about it, obscuring most of the ugly remains,
the jagged beams and crumbling stone. How unfair it was that he’d been taken
from her. Especially when she’d only just found him. A steady pain throbbed in
her chest and exhaustion threatened to overcome her. Only the determination to see
Margot held responsible for all she had done kept her standing.

She
paused as she went to turn away and scowled as the smoke seemed to part. Her
stomach flipped and she stumbled back a few paces, eyes wide. Nay, it couldn’t
be…

“Morgann!”

Alana
sprinted toward him as he staggered from the ruins. His plaid was torn and
smoke-stained, his face haggard, but he was definitely alive. She slammed into
him and flung her arms around his torso as he reeled back under her weight.

“Yer
alive!” she exclaimed as she buried her face into his chest. The stench of
smoke filled her nostrils but she didn’t care. Her tears seeped through the
material as she burrowed her face closer, feeling the reassuring beat of his
heart.

Strong
arms came about her as he eased her away from the burning wreckage. He kissed
the top of her head before pulling her back and resting his forehead against
hers. Dirty thumbs rubbed away her tears as he drew in long breaths.

“Yer
alive,” she repeated quietly, unable to quite believe it. She clung tightly to
him, fearful it was all some torturous dream.

“Aye.”

“But
how?”

Morgann
kept hold of her face, his hands shaky as he recovered his breath. “I dinnae
know.” He shrugged and shook his head in disbelief. “I dinnae know.”

They
both glanced at the castle ruins. Most of the walls still stood but the insides
had almost completely gone, smoke still pouring into the sky. Morgann turned to
her and took her mouth in a desperate kiss. He tasted of charred wood and hope
and love and she savoured it, knowing she would never let him go again.

A
whinny from Caraid drew her attention and she let out a frustrated cry as she
spied Margot righting herself in the saddle, hands still tied. She gave them a
smug smile as she dug her heels into the horse’s side.

“Margot,”
Morgann warned, his voice hoarse, “dinnae do it. Caraid willnae—” He cursed and
released Alana as the mare bolted. He gave chase but it was too late. Margot
spurred the horse on.

And
then the mount veered toward the burning hulk of the castle as if led by an
unknown guide. Margot fought to change course but Caraid was determined to take
her into the inferno. Morgann stopped and gathered his breath as the mount and
his struggling stepmother vanished into the smoke. Alana came up behind him and
wrapped an arm around his waist as he chucked one over her shoulders and they
waited.

Alana
wasn’t surprised when the horse trotted out of the mists riderless and unharmed
but she still shook her head. “I dinnae know what we’ve done to deserve it,
Morgann, but the spirits are with us.”

Morgann
twisted her into his hold as Caraid ambled over and began chewing on some grass
as if nothing had happened. “Aye, it seems they are.” He dipped his head and swept
his lips over hers.

“I
thought ye’d left me,” she murmured against his lips as her heart swelled with
relief and happiness. It was truly over and the gorgeous warrior was hers. She brushed
her hands over his arms, tracing the indent of his muscles.

She
felt him grin against her cheek as he squeezed her. “I told ye I’d not. Yer
mine now,
mo ghràidh.”

“Morgann
MacRae,” she raised her head and grinned back. “I’ve been yers since ye captured
me.”

***

Morgann pressed his sweaty palms
against his plaid and glanced at Alana who gave him an encouraging smile as she
stood next to her father. He noticed her squeeze a placating hand on his
shoulder as Dougall flexed his fists.

He
inhaled slowly as he moved past the other Campbells, who turned from their
meals as he approached the main table. Shoulders straight, he kept his gaze
fixed on Dougall even as he heard the faint scrape of knives as hands clenched
around them. Ach, but he felt as though he were about to be thrown to the
wolves. Still he was determined to do this properly.

Dougall
remained sitting and Morgann stopped in front of the table and dipped his head.
“My laird.”

“MacRae,”
the older man greeted tersely.

“I have
come to beg a truce on behalf of my clan.” Morgann found he had to force the
words out and resist the urge to snarl. Only Alana’s soothing presence kept him
focused on why he was here. Today he would gain Alana’s hand.

“Indeed.”

He
gritted his teeth. The old man wasn’t going to make it easy on him. “Now that
the woman who instigated the problems between the clans has been killed, there
is no reason for us to continue hostilities. It would be beneficial for both
sides if we joined forces.” He flicked his gaze to Alana and had to stop
himself from grinning. “And I’ll like to join the clans permanently by taking
yer daughter in marriage.”

Dougall
nodded slowly. “Alana tells me ye saved her from Margot. I’ll always be
grateful for that, but ye cannae expect me to give her to the man who kidnapped
her surely?”

“I’ve
made mistakes, just as ye have, Dougall.”

The old
man sighed. “Aye, mistakes were made. Alas, that woman’s plotting got the
better of all of us and I’ll no’ forgive myself for that. But my daughter is
precious to me. I cannae hand her over to just anyone.”

“Alana
is precious to me too, Dougall. I’d die before I let anything happen to her. I
swear it. And the MacRaes will forgive any wrongdoing on yer behalf, if ye let
us be joined by marriage.”

Dougall
rubbed his chin as he studied him. Morgann resisted the desire to glance at
Alana. He needed to stay focused on the task at hand. Lord knows the lass was a
distraction.

“Da—”
Alana prompted.

“Aye,
aye,” he said as he waved a hand at her. “I have need of a strong man to take
care of Alana and I think it might be ye. I’ve got my reservations about this
alliance but it seems… it seems I’m overruled.”

Morgann
would have laughed at the thought of such a man being overruled by a mere lass
but knew well how persuasive Alana could be. And he didn’t want to risk Dougall
changing his mind.

“Then I
have yer permission to marry her?”

“Aye,
ye can marry my daughter and I’ll negotiate a truce with yer clan. We are but
old men and the fighting cannae continue. ‘Tis time to forget the past, I
think.”

Grinning,
Morgann nodded and allowed his gaze to drift to Alana. “I thank ye, laird. Ye’ll
no’ regret it.”

Alana
beamed back at him, making his heart flip. “
I know,”
she mouthed at him.

Dougall
held out a palm and Alana slid her hand into his. He passed her hand over to
Morgann with a look that told him he’d better look after his daughter. Morgann
grasped her fingers, the slim softness of her hand somehow sending a thrill
through him.

“There
ye go, MacRae, she’s yours. Lord help ye…”

Tèile
gripped the edge of the goblet and dunked her head into the wine, taking a long
drink. Wiping her face with a hand, she grinned and eyed the couple at the main
table as they whispered to one another. Oh aye, they’d been a pain but she couldn’t
help but feel a little fond of them.

Mayhap
that was the wine talking…

But
she was glad she’d aided them. And what a lot of help they’d needed. She was
going to have to be very careful with her magic from now on. No doubt the
sidhe
council would ration it after she’d used some to help Morgann narrowly escape
being crushed and to create a path through the fire. Though she’d not needed
any magic to finish of that vile Margot. Caraid had been more than happy to help
rid the world of that woman.

She
fluttered across the hall, enjoying the scent of roasted meats and the sound of
drunken laughter. Both clans had gathered for the marriage of Alana and
Morgann. Even Morgann’s father had joined in with the festivities. Since the
death of his wife, his health appeared much improved. Discovering the true
nature of the manipulative woman seemed to have brought both lairds closer.

Tèile
paused to scoop up a small handful of custard and licked it from her fingers as
she tiptoed across the table in front of the couple. Aye, a job well done in
her opinion. Now she could return to the land of the fae and celebrate
properly.

The
green faery jumped aside as Morgann slammed down his goblet and stood, drawing
Alana into his hold. “If ye’ll excuse me, I’ve a wife to see to.”

Alana’s
cheeks turned crimson as she tucked her face into his neck and applause and
shouts of approval rang out. Morgann swung her into his hold and men slapped
him on the back as he carried her through the Great Hall and up the stairs.

Tèile
couldn’t resist following them and just having a little peek. In spite of
herself, she was going to miss them. Before Morgann had a chance to slam the
door shut with his foot, she flew in and settled herself on the windowsill with
a sigh.

For
all their problems
,
she thought, chin propped on a hand,
humans are very good at love.

Morgann
dropped Alana on the bed and she immediately wrapped herself around him,
pulling him down for a demanding kiss. Tèile frowned when a tap at her shoulder
meant she had to turn away.

“Tèile,”
said the faery, her purple gossamer wings sparkling in the sunset.

She
brightened. It was time to go home!

“There
is more work to be done here. Ye’ve used too much magic and now ye must put
things right.”

Tèile
sagged against the stone, stealing one last glance at the couple as they
stripped their clothes from one another and embraced.

“‘Tis
a love match again,” the faery continued as she led her out of the window. “The
man’s name is Finn…”

The End

More
titles by Samantha Holt

Borderland Bride (Book 1 of the
Borderland Legacy)

Borderland Beauty (Book 2 of the
Borderland Legacy)

Find Samantha
on Facebook
www.facebook.com/romanticfiction

Gaelic
Terms

A mheapain –
Bastard

Mo chridhe –
My heart

M'eudail – My
treasure/darling

Mo ghràidh –
My love

Medieval
Terms

Garderobes –
toilets

Solar – large
chamber/bedroom