Текст книги "My notorious highlander"
Автор книги: Vonda Sinclair
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"Do you think he will?"
Torrin shrugged.
"Did Erskine truly ask him to come and play a tune?"
"Indeed. I asked him if he would like to hear Aiden play and he said aye."
"Sneaky devil," she muttered, but she loved the way his mind worked.
Torrin sent her a quick smile, then continued watching out the door. A moment later, a wide grin spread across his face. He opened the door and stuck his head out.
"What is happening?" she whispered.
He drew back into the room and softly closed the door. "Aiden is headed in the direction of Erskine's room. I could not tell if he had a flute with him or not."
"Let's follow him and see if we hear music," she suggested.
Torrin nodded. They exited the room and slipped along the corridor. A few yards from the open door of Erskine's room, they halted. The two men and Nannag talked within the room, though Jessie couldn't understand their words. Then, the soothing sounds of flute music floated out into the corridor. Jessie smiled.
She knew Erskine didn't blame Aiden for being injured, but Aiden had no doubt blamed himself. Now that he saw Erskine would likely recover, mayhap he could forgive himself for his poor decisions.
"Come," Torrin whispered. Taking her hand, he led her back along the corridor. His big hand surrounded and warmed hers, soothing her and giving her shivers at the same time.
"I thank you for helping Aiden," she said. "I've never seen him so upset. Hopefully, he's back to his old self again."
"I hope so." Torrin pulled her into his guest room and closed the door. Considering the attentive way he watched her, he was no longer thinking of her brother.
"And now what are you about, MacLeod, bringing me to your chamber?" She placed her hands upon her hips in a mock severe posture.
"I wish to speak to you," he said mysteriously.
"About?"
"Are you avoiding me?"
"Nay," Jessie said, although, in one way, she wished she could avoid him; in another, she wished to tackle him to the bed right now. "Why would you think that?"
"You didn't break your fast in the great hall, even though there was an empty seat beside me."
"I simply don't want everyone to think… you know… that we're…" She paused, refusing to say the words.
"We're what?" He lifted a brow.
He knew what she was trying to say, blast him.
His expression turned troubled. "You're ashamed of me," he said, somewhere between a statement and a question.
"Of course not! The clan will gossip. They will think we're…"
"Lovers?" he supplied.
A mixture of heat and excitement washed over her. "Aye."
"Well, they will think the truth, then."
She blew out an exasperated breath. "I don't wish everyone to know that."
"You won't avoid me tonight, will you?" he murmured. "I woke up last night and you were gone. I missed you."
"We cannot be caught together again. Uncle Conall already—" she broke off, not wanting to discuss the M word with Torrin.
He sent her a mischievous look. "Conall told me he intended to have a discussion with you. Did he give good advice?"
"I have no need for anyone's advice," she said firmly.
"Ah, well, I figured as much," he said in a mild tone, and was obviously squelching a grin.
She glared at him. "You put him up to that, did you not?"
"Nay! 'Twas all his idea. He confronted me about being in your chamber. I told him the truth—that I wish to marry you." Torrin crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow.
"And I told him the truth as well—that I cannot marry you. Now, if you will pardon me, I must get to the great hall." She eyed the door, hoping he would let her pass.
"What if you are with child?" he whispered.
Her gaze flew to his, lit brilliant green by the midday sunlight slicing in through the narrow window.
"I'm not." She would know it if she was with child, wouldn't she?
He tilted his head. "How do you know?"
She narrowed her eyes. "If that happens, I'll tell you. In the meantime, there is no sense discussing it." And getting her hopes up. Aye, she would like naught better than to have children of her own… with him… but she couldn't tell him that. 'Twas like a sweet tart dangling before her nose, while she starved, unable to reach it.
Slowly, he moved toward her, and though she knew she should back away, she couldn't. The sensual look in his eyes was too tempting by far.
He stroked a finger along her jawline, sending tingles traveling down her neck to her breasts, then he leaned in and kissed her lips. The light, sweet kiss urged her to latch herself onto him and demand more… demand all the heat and passion she knew he could unleash on her. She fisted her hand in his plaid and tugged. With a moan, he slipped his arm around her waist and drew her closer. This time, he consumed her lips, flinging her scattered thoughts to the wind like thistledown. He slipped his hands lower, over her hips, and pulled her tight against him. The hard length of him, obvious behind his plaid, made her recall how splendidly he'd made love to her, giving her pleasures she'd never imagined before him.
"I want you," he whispered, then sucked her earlobe into his mouth, before nibbling down her neck.
She shivered. "They're expecting me in the great hall," she whispered.
"Who cares? I need you more. And 'tis obvious you need me, too."
"If we're both… missing," she said, trying to gather her broken thoughts, "they'll know we're together."
He growled and stepped back, his eyes much darker now. "I want to see you tonight. I'll slip to your room after everyone's abed."
The passion in his demanding tone sent spikes of excitement through her. She looked forward to their trysts as much as he did, and she could not deny him.
"How does that sound?" he asked.
"Very well," she said modestly, trying to hide her own enthusiasm. "But we must keep it a secret."
Lifting a brow, he gave her a wee smile. "I'm good at keeping secrets."
If only she could keep her heart out of the mix until she was with child. But that was impossible. She already loved him so much, just the thought of him abandoning her near gutted her.
***
As Jessie and everyone was gathering for supper, a guard stormed down the stairs and into the great hall, startling her. "Three large galleys are being rowed into Balnakeil Bay!" he announced.
Jessie hurried toward him, excitement buoying her steps. "Is it Dirk and the MacKay party?"
"We're not certain."
She quickly followed the guard onto the battlements to take a look, Torrin behind her. Shading her eyes, she did indeed see the three sizable galleys in the distance. "They didn't leave on galleys," she said.
"Nay, but the MacKenzie chief promised Chief Dirk a galley as part of Lady Isobel's dowry."
"'Tis true," Torrin said.
As the galleys drew nearer, she could see more detail. Their plaids looked familiar and she thought she saw Dirk's red hair shining, and their fair-haired cousin, Keegan, beside him. "I believe 'tis the MacKays." She noticed five castle guards striding purposefully toward the beach. "Are those guards going to warn them that Haldane is lurking about?"
"Aye."
"I'll go down and meet them." Torrin gave her hand a squeeze, then rushed down the stairs.
As the galleys drew nearer, she recognized more of the people aboard—Lady Isobel, Lady Seona—both with dark hair—and her aunt, Lady Patience. What on earth were they doing returning? Part of the reason for the journey was to take Seona and her aunt to their home near Inverness. No matter. She was thrilled to see Seona, for Jessie considered her a good friend. And of course, Isobel, being her sister-by-marriage, was almost like a true sister to her.
Thankfully, Dirk stood proudly in the bow of the galley, as tall and imposing as always. Happy tears filling her eyes, she was grateful he had survived the arrow wound.
Jessie also noticed a couple of Isobel's brothers aboard, along with Dirk's friend, Laird Rebbinglen, or Rebbie, as his friends called him.
Minutes later, some of the guards on board the galleys leapt into the shallow surf and tugged the boats further onto the beach. Luckily, high tide was in. Or maybe they had waited off-shore until high tide.
She watched as the ladies and their maids disembarked and guards escorted them toward the castle. Jessie rushed down several flights of steps and across the great hall so she might greet them in the courtyard.
Torrin waited by the portcullis with Iain, as did several clansmen and guards. When the women were escorted inside, Jessie hurried toward them.
"Oh, Isobel, I'm so glad you've all returned." Jessie embraced her, then turned to Seona. "And I'm happy to see you and your aunt again." 'Twas half true anyway, she was indeed thrilled to see Seona. Her aunt, not so much, for she was a harpy, but the older woman's face didn't appear near as pinched and annoyed as it used to.
"I'm now your cousin-by-marriage. Keegan and I are wed." Seona smiled so brightly, 'twas nearly blinding, and her blue eyes gleamed with happiness.
"In truth? Congratulations! I'm so pleased." Jessie embraced her. "You will have to tell me how this came about when we have more time."
"I will. And this is my younger sister, Talia." Seona motioned to a petite, dark-haired lass of about eighteen summers who stood behind her, a shy smile on her face.
"Welcome, Lady Talia. I'm glad you've come," Jessie said. "Let's go inside where you can rest. I'm sure you're all exhausted from the journey."
The women proceeded across the courtyard, but when shouting and a loud commotion erupted outside the gates, they halted.
Jessie turned to see Torrin and the others bolting through the portcullis. She ran toward them, but one of the burly guards blocked her path.
"Stay back, m'lady! Get them inside," he commanded another guard.
The only thing she could see through the closing portcullis was Torrin withdrawing his sword and dashing toward the beach.
"Torrin!" she yelled, but he didn't even look back. "What's happening?" she demanded of the guard.
"Haldane and his men charged down from the hill."
"Nay!" Isobel tried to get past the guard. "Let me pass!"
"Nay, m'lady. With all due respect, you must go inside. Chief Dirk will have all our heads if you're injured."
"Haldane, that bastard," Jessie said. "Come, ladies, we can see what's happening from the ramparts."
The other ladies followed her into the great hall and up the turnpike stairs to the area she'd been watching from earlier.
A large force of men, all wearing similar plaids rushed the beach.
"Oh, saints," Jessie hissed, dread kicking her in the stomach. "Haldane didn't have that many men." Although she saw Haldane among them. "Who are they?" And then she saw Gregor. "MacBain, you bastard!" she yelled.
"Who is he and why are they attacking?" Seona asked, anguish in her voice.
"He is the man I was in the trial marriage with. He returned a few weeks ago, trying to force me to marry him. He even tried to kidnap me. Torrin MacLeod rescued me and had him escorted off MacKay land. He's returned with his army." She watched as MacBain engaged Torrin in a sword battle not too far from the castle. "This is my fault."
"Nay, 'tis not. Please, God, protect them," Isobel prayed.
Closer to the water, Dirk was engaged in a sword dual with McMurdo. All the men were involved in hand-to-hand combat. Wind blew the kicked up sand from the beach, creating dust clouds.
"Is Dirk well enough to fight?" Jessie asked. "We'd heard he was shot with an arrow."
"He is better but still limping," Isobel said, her face white. "Kill him, Dirk," she growled low.
Three of the MacBains had already fallen and another of Haldane's men, thank the saints.
When Jessie's frantic gaze shifted back to Torrin, she saw that blood had saturated his white shirt. But he still battled MacBain.
One of MacBain's men slipped up behind Torrin.
"Torrin! Behind you!" Jessie shouted, unsure if he could hear her with all the wind and noise of battle.
The bastard knocked him on the head with his sword hilt and Torrin fell. MacBain stabbed his sword toward Torrin's stomach.
"You bastard! I'll kill you!" Jessie rushed down the steps, tears blurring her vision.
"Jessie! You can't go out there!" Isobel yelled after her. But she had no time to answer. She was determined to pull Torrin to safety. Please don't let him be dead.
She checked that her Highland dirk was in the sheath on her belt.
If Torrin is dead, so help me… MacBain would die by her hand this day.
She ran outside into the bailey, to the closed portcullis. "Let me out!" she ordered the young guard left in charge of the gates. Apparently, all the seasoned guards had joined in the battle.
"Nay, I cannot m'lady. The other guards would string me up."
Jessie pretended to head back inside the castle, but when the guard turned his attention elsewhere, she dashed along the side of the castle toward the small back postern gate. With shaking hands, she opened it with her key and locked it back. Taking out her foot-long dirk, she hurried along the outside of the curtain wall, trying to stay low and hidden behind the grasses and bushes, her stomach aching more with each step. What would she find when she reached Torrin? Would he be dead from some horrid sword wound? Wiping the tears from her eyes, she approached the place she'd seen him fall. The rest of the fighting had moved to the beach.
Torrin was pushing himself up on his elbow. Saints, his shirt and doublet were drenched in blood.
"Torrin, thanks be to God you're alive! I have to get you inside the walls."
"What the hell are you doing out here?" he growled. His face contorted in pain, he glanced about.
"Helping you, you daft sheep. The faster you come with me, the faster we'll get behind the gate."
Grimacing, he pushed himself to his feet, his sword still in his right hand. She gently placed an arm around his waist, careful to avoid his injuries, and helped him. Glancing around, she didn’t see anyone nearby. She helped him closer to the portcullis. Almost there.
Someone shoved them both from behind, and they crashed to their knees.
Mo chreach!
She tried to get her dirk turned to stab their attackers.
"Grab her! Come on!" That was Haldane's voice.
"Bastard!" Jessie yelled. She would gut him if she could get her blade in the right position.
She was still on her stomach when someone dragged her by the feet, away from Torrin.
"Release her!" Torrin shouted.
"Kill him," Haldane growled.
"Nay! Leave him be and I'll go with you." Shoving the hair out of her eyes, Jessie saw 'twas McMurdo that Haldane was ordering about.
Loud clashes and curses echoed as Torrin fended off McMurdo's blade.
She sat up, intending to stab Haldane's leg. But he kicked the knife from her hand and yanked her to her feet. She thrust her fist toward his face. He ducked and slapped her hard across the cheek. Pain lanced through her face and neck, and she swayed.
The earth spun as he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.
"Put me down!" she ordered, beating her fists against his back.
"Shut your gob," he said, breaking into a run.
Dizzy, she watched the ground speed by underneath her. Haldane's solid shoulder slammed painfully into her stomach with each step he took across the hard-packed sand, near knocking the breath from her. Coming to her senses, she kneed and elbowed him. If only she could get to one of the knives strapped to her calf or thigh, but 'twas impossible to reach them now.
"Are you mad, Haldane? Release me!"
Haldane merely laughed as they headed away from the battle on the beach and through the massive sand dunes.
She noticed someone chasing along behind them. McMurdo. Nay! Had he killed Torrin?
Please, God, let him live.
Chapter Thirteen
Torrin pushed himself to his feet, hot pain lancing his side and abdomen from the two sword wounds. Blinking and trying to wipe the sand from his eyes, he saw his archer some thirty or forty feet away, an arrow aimed at one of the MacBains.
"Sim!" Torrin yelled.
When he turned, his eyes widened and he came running. "I'll get you inside the gates, Chief."
"Nay!" he growled. "Give me your bow and arrows." He could stop Haldane from a distance with those. And he damned well intended to slaughter him.
"I'll carry them. Where are you going?"
"Haldane got Lady Jessie! I'm going to kill the bastard." If Haldane killed her… God, he couldn't think of it. He had to get her back. Sheathing his sword, he gritted his teeth and took off running across the upper part of the beach, toward the sand dunes where Haldane had disappeared with Jessie over his shoulder. Considering the pain slicing through Torrin, 'twas more like he limped forward. Still, he moved as fast as he could.
"You're bleeding badly, m'laird!" Sim chased after him.
"Do you think I care?"
"We'll find her. Struan! Luag!" he yelled back to the other MacLeods. "Come!"
Moments later, Iain was running alongside Torrin. "Saints, man! Where are you going? You've lost a lot of blood. We must get you inside the gates!"
"Haldane ran off with Lady Jessie. We're going to get her back," he ground out, trying to ignore the pain lashing through him with every step and the blackness teasing the edges of his vision.
"I'll go. Let them take you back," Iain said.
"Nay! I'm going to kill that whoreson myself." If he didn't pass out first. Saints, he couldn't. He had to save Jessie. If she died, he didn't want to live.
"Hang on, Chief." Struan got under one of Torrin's arms, and Luag the other. They practically carried him through the massive sand dunes as they moved overland.
"Follow the tracks," he said, his vision blacking out for a moment. Nay, he had to stay awake for Jessie. Her damnable brother was a monster and he'd kill her with not a care in the world.
Torrin grew dizzy, and it appeared the sand was turning to grass. Indeed it was.
"There they are," Sim said, pointing with his bow.
In the fading light of sunset that glowed beneath the rose-colored clouds, Jessie's hair was a bright red flag against the green beach grasses as Haldane ran with her over his shoulder. Torrin loved her fiery hair. And he loved the way she pounded her fists against her despicable brother's back. Thank the saints she was still alive and fighting.
"We must catch them," he said through clenched teeth, willing the pain away. He still had time to rescue her.
"Why the devil is he bringing her out here?" Iain asked.
Torrin shook his head hard, trying to think more clearly and keep himself alert. His gaze scanning the undulating landscape leading out to the rugged headland, he figured it out. "Damnation! He's taking her toward the cliffs. When Dirk was a lad, he was almost killed out here when McMurdo shoved him down a cliff."
And McMurdo was with Haldane now, his gray hair and beard resembling dirty wool in the waning light. His clothes were bloody, for Torrin had gotten in a few good strikes before the coward had fled. The archer, Gil, accompanied them.
"I'll kill every last one of them," Torrin swore through his teeth.
"I'll help you," Iain said.
They were all winded when they neared a jagged ravine that cut deep into the headland, high above the sea. His men released him and he forced himself to stand, his knees threatening to buckle. Cold sweat drenched Torrin's clothes, and his side burned like the fires of hell where McMurdo had stabbed him and MacBain had gotten in a deep slice. The two must have missed the vital organs, thank the saints, or else Torrin would be passed out or dead by now.
"We have to get to them on the other side of the ravine," Torrin said.
"Stop right there!" Haldane ordered.
On the opposite side of the deadly narrow gorge, fifty feet away, Gil nocked an arrow and aimed at Torrin. Haldane lowered Jessie to her feet, then stood behind her and held a dagger to her throat. Her skin was deathly pale when her eyes met his. His chest tightened painfully, for he'd not felt such excruciating fear since he'd found his severely injured sister eight years ago in that dark wood.
"Don't move, MacLeod! And keep your men where they are!" Haldane yelled to be heard over the ocean wind. "If anyone comes around this ravine, you'll find your lady on the rocks below."
Torrin glanced around, seeing that Iain stood close behind him but to his left, and Sim kept his bow hidden behind his back and leg.
"What do you want?" Torrin demanded, trying desperately to think clearly. He needed a plan, but everything was going fuzzy.
"We'll have to wait until that Dirk imposter shows up, won't we?" Haldane asked.
What the devil? Torrin frowned.
"He must be wanting to trade her for Dirk," Iain muttered.
"Does Dirk know you're out here?" Torrin yelled.
"Aye. He saw." Haldane grinned.
Rage burned through Torrin that Haldane would find this amusing. "You harm one hair on her head and you're a dead man, Dirk or no Dirk."
"Don't threaten me, MacLeod! I have what you want. You can kiss my arse." Haldane moved Jessie even closer to the edge of the cliff, only a foot remained between her and the drop-off. Waves crashed onto the rocks two hundred feet below.
Blackness and oblivion teasing at the edge of Torrin's vision again, he wavered, but prayed he wouldn't pass out before he could get Jessie safely out of Haldane's clutches.
"If I pass out…" he said to Iain, "or die, promise me you'll rescue her."
"Of course, man. But you're not going to die."
"I hope you're right." Torrin gauged the mad look in Haldane's eyes. Then he turned and glanced behind them, not seeing Dirk or anyone approaching from the dunes. He had his doubts that Dirk even knew they were out here.
A scream sounded, drawing Torrin back around in alarm. Loose dirt and stones slid from beneath Jessie's feet and dropped into the abyss.
"Pull her back from the edge!" Torrin yelled.
Haldane grinned and appeared to be chuckling. God's teeth! He truly was a madman. Torrin itched to end the bastard's life.
Haldane held Jessie by one arm, while she grasped both hands onto Haldane's plaid as her feet scrambled for purchase on the crumbling edge.
"Pull her back, you bastard!" Torrin ordered, his heart thudding in his ears so loudly he could hardly hear anything else.
Haldane shook his head slowly, looking mightily entertained.
Placing his hands behind his back, Torrin motioned with his fingers. "Give me your bow," he murmured low to Sim, hoping he was close enough to hear above the wind.
Moments later, the smooth yew wood slipped into his hand, along with an arrow.
"You, there! Stand back where I can see you!" Haldane shouted.
Keeping the bow hidden behind him, Torrin glanced aside and noticed Sim had moved back and to his right.
McMurdo murmured something to Haldane, who looked frantic for a moment as his gaze darted back and forth over Torrin and his men. "Put the bow down, MacLeod!" he ordered.
"Pull Jessie back from the edge and release her, and I will." With no further need to hide the weapons, Torrin held the bow in one hand and the arrow in the other, down at his sides. He could nock the arrow and let it fly in a second if he had to.
The coward kept Jessie in front of him, like a shield, less than a foot from the ravine. If only she was a safe distance back, he'd skewer Haldane with an arrow.
Jessie slowly lifted her right leg toward her hand, dug beneath her skirt, and took something from her calf. A knife. Nay! 'Twas too dangerous. What the devil was she planning?
Torrin's hands clutched the bow and arrow tightly. He had to be ready to shoot quickly.
Jessie carefully moved the sgian dubh into position, then stabbed backward into Haldane's belly. He howled and shoved her to the ground beside him. Torrin swiftly nocked and released the arrow. It shot across the ravine and jabbed into Haldane's throat. He gasped and tried to pull it out while blood spurted from the wound.
Jessie attempted to crawl away from him and the cliff's edge, but Gil kicked at her, blocking her path.
"Bastard," Torrin growled. "Give me another arrow, Sim!"
In a trice, he had one in hand and nocked. He let it fly toward Gil, but the lad dove to the ground at the last second, and it missed.
"Damnation! Another," he demanded.
He shot this arrow at Haldane, hitting him in the side, hoping he'd die before he could harm Jessie.
Haldane dropped to his knees at the edge of the drop-off, his bloody hands grabbing onto Jessie's skirts. She kicked at him as he started sliding off the cliff.
"Turn her loose!" Torrin yelled, his heart seizing and dizziness crashing in on him again. He couldn't get around the deep ravine in time to pull her back. Sim and Luag took off at a sprint in that direction.
Jessie slid down the cliff face onto a lower rock that jutted out. Using the knife, she cut at her skirts. The material ripped off under Haldane's weight and he fell. She dropped her knife and grabbed onto the rock with both hands, most of her body dangling over the edge.
"Help her back up!" Torrin ordered the two men left standing, McMurdo armed with a sword and targe, Gil with a bow and arrows.
Gil launched an arrow in their direction, and Torrin leapt out of the way. It drove into the ground a foot from him. Gil took off at a fast sprint away from them.
"What the hell is going on out here?" a deep voice yelled behind them.
Torrin turned to find Dirk approaching, limping, a sword in his hand, his red hair windblown, his blue eyes wild and his clothes bloody. Several men accompanied him.
"Tell that bastard to help her back up!" Torrin said, hanging onto consciousness by a thread. Iain grasped Torrin's shoulder. Had he swayed?
Dirk stepped forward, eying Jessie clutching the rocky outcropping with both hands. "Pull her up, McMurdo!"
"Promise me, upon your life and your wife's life," McMurdo said, "that you will give me the tomb in the church your father promised me, and I will."
"Aye. Of course! The tomb in the church is yours!" Dirk yelled. "And I'll be glad to put you in it," he growled low.
Hurry, you bastard! Torrin wanted to shout. The lower half of Jessie's body was dangling off the cliff.
"And you'll all let me go free," McMurdo said.
"Aye. You can go free," Dirk said. "Just help her up now or you'll be a dead man buried at sea!"
McMurdo reached a hand down. Clinging to the cliff with one hand, Jessie reached up and grabbed onto McMurdo's hand. He hauled her up to solid ground, then took off, running like a scalded rat.
Torrin, Dirk, and Iain hastened to circumvent the deep ravine and get to Jessie. Torrin glanced across to find her crawling away from the edge of the cliff. Sim and Luag finally reached her and helped her to a safer area. "Thank the saints," Torrin whispered, so much relief flowing through him, the pain vanished for a second.
"Where's Haldane?" Dirk asked, breathing hard.
"Dead," Iain said. "Fell off the cliff with an arrow in his throat."
"In truth?" Dirk glanced at the bow Torrin carried. "You shot him, MacLeod?"
"Aye." All he could focus on was seeing Jessie. Holding her. 'Twas all he cared about. By the time he limped to her, minutes later, he was out of breath and lightheaded, his vision blurring, the pain nigh overwhelming.
His men had helped Jessie move several yards away from the sea cliff's rim where she sat upon the grass. Torrin dropped to his knees beside her and pulled her into his arms. She would never know how precious she was to him.
"Thank God. I feared I'd lost you, Jessie."
Torrin felt himself falling and all went black.
***
"Retreat!" MacBain called out to his men. Damnation, they had lost at least eight men. But Haldane and his gang had disappeared, leaving the MacBains to fight the MacKays. The force that had just arrived by galley, along with the men from inside the castle walls, had combined to outnumber them. 'Twas a losing battle, and he couldn't allow more of his men to be slaughtered.
On foot, he and his clan scrambled up the hill and crossed the top. "Are they following?" he shouted back, gasping for breath.
"Nay, they're all headed in the opposite direction."
MacBain paused on top of the grassy hill and squinted, scanning the rocky headland in the distance where all the MacKays were running. Something was going on at the cliff's edge, but 'twas so far, he couldn't see who was involved.
Clearly, joining forces with Haldane MacKay had been a mistake. The lad had let on like he commanded a large faction of men who were scattered about. But he'd only had a few, mayhap half a dozen. Given the strength of the MacKay clan and how they fought for their chief, Dirk, they would never back Haldane as chief, anyway. 'Twas a lost cause.
MacBain had injured Torrin MacLeod in that sword dual, but he hadn't been able to kill him before his sword-bearer had engaged MacBain in a fight and driven him back. He'd had to retreat to save his own skin, but he'd escaped the bastard without much injury.
"Grab the horses and let's get out of here!" he ordered. "You two stay here, well hidden." He pointed to two of his stealthiest men. "Watch the castle, or find one of Haldane's men—if any of them survived—and see if Torrin MacLeod is alive or dead. Once you know for certain, head south. We'll wait for you just outside of Scourie."
"Aye, m'laird," they both murmured.
"We're headed to Scourie?" his sword-bearer asked.
"Aye. And if MacLeod lives, we go toward Munrick."
Moments later, they led the horses from the low-lying thicket where they'd hidden them earlier and mounted.
"What's your plan?" his sword-bearer asked.
"If MacLeod survives, he will head for home eventually. We'll be waiting for him just north of his keep. He only had seven men with him, if you recall. And if Iain Stewart accompanies him, that will be five more, if they all survived the battle. We'll have them outnumbered. And if he brings Lady Jessie home with him, as his new bride, we'll kill the bastard and then grab her."
They took off, riding as if the devil were on their tails.
Aye, his plan was brilliant. He no longer cared about her dowry. 'Twas now about pride and revenge. No one got the best of Gregor MacBain.
***
"He still lives," Iain said, kneeling on the other side of Torrin, passed out on the grass.
"Thank the saints," Jessie whispered, the cooler air of gloaming and the harsh wind blasting the headland giving her a shiver. When Torrin had dropped to the ground beside her, she'd feared he was dead. He'd lost so much blood, his skin was pale. But thankfully, he still breathed.
