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My daring highlander
  • Текст добавлен: 31 октября 2016, 06:01

Текст книги "My daring highlander"


Автор книги: Vonda Sinclair



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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Chapter Nine

Seona knew Aunt Patience would complain about her riding with Keegan earlier that day.

“My mare is unsafe,” Seona said. “I was afraid to ride her. She went mad during the storm and bolted, in case you don’t remember.”

“I remember!” Her aunt paused in her limping trek to the chair by the fireplace to glare at Seona. “Don’t be impertinent with me, young lady.”

Ignoring her, Seona continued with calm reasoning. “Chief Dirk said I should ride with Master Keegan. Do you wish to nay-say a chief?”

“Nay.” Patience slumped into the chair by the fire and propped her crooked cane next to her. “But you didn’t even protest. I ken what you’re thinking, lassie,” she snapped, pinning Seona with a perceptive stare. “I see how you blush when he looks at you.”

Seona felt her face heat.

“Aye, just like that.” Her aunt pointed at her.

How on earth could Aunt Patience see Seona’s face in the dim candlelight? She was too blasted observant. Seona sat down in the chair opposite her and didn’t comment.

“I’m not daft,” Patience said. “I was once a pretty young lass like you are. And I know how men are, especially charming rogues like that commoner.”

Immediately bristling, Seona stiffened. “He is no commoner,” she said firmly. “His grandfather was a baron and a chief, just like my own father. Keegan is a gentleman of the clan.”

“He is a scoundrel,” her aunt insisted. “Good for naught but to lure a good lady into sin and ruin her reputation. If you give him half a chance, he will steal your virtue and forget your name the next day. He is not fit to marry, so don’t even be thinking of it.”

“I’m not.” ’Twas a lie, but what else could she say? Her father would never allow it, and besides, Keegan had never mentioned marriage. ’Twas but her own outlandish fantasy.

Her aunt’s eyes narrowed. “What happened when you were alone with him during the storm? And last night, when he snatched you from the tent, wearing naught more than your smock? He returned wearing only a shirt. ’Twas shocking.”

“As you already know, he let me borrow his plaid because I was cold. Naught more. He saved my life twice. Do you care so little for me that you cannot appreciate that?”

Seona knew she was challenging her aunt, but she needed it. Patience’s glare intensified, but Seona held her gaze, waiting for an answer.

“Nay,” she finally confessed. “I am thankful he saved your life.”

“Did you tell him that?”

“Not yet. But I will,” Patience grumbled. “My concern is what happened after the rescue.”

“Do you honestly think I’d bed down with a man outside while someone is trying to kidnap me or during a horrendous storm?”

“Well…nay, I suppose not.” Her aunt shrugged. “But I don’t trust him. He could take advantage of you or force you.”

Seona shook her head. “Keegan is not that type of man.”

“What type of man is he… since you know so much about him?”

“Kind and protective. He risked his life to save mine.”

Her aunt lifted a brow. “Aye, well… he’d best not get it into his head he has a chance with you. Your father would never approve of him.”

“I ken it.” But her father was daft, valuing wealth and prestige over strength of character.

“Get the maids in here to help me over to the bed. I’m tired,” her aunt said.

“Very well.” Seona strode to the door, opened it and summoned the maids. After they helped Patience into the bed, Seona took a sponge bath and changed into a clean smock.

While she was getting into one of the four beds, Isobel arrived to spend the night inside the cottage with them.

Seona couldn’t sleep, nor could she talk to Isobel about anything of importance with her aunt and the maids so close. She felt safe enough within the stone walls of the cottage, but she missed Keegan… maybe because she’d ridden so close to him all day. The feel of his hard, strong body had become familiar. Addictive. Would she be allowed to ride with him again?

***

Two days later, Keegan and the MacKay party were finally drawing closer to Ullapool. He was still annoyed that Seona’s aunt had insisted she ride a separate horse both days. He had argued that Seona couldn’t ride her own untrustworthy one. They’d compromised and Seona had temporarily switched horses with one of the guards. Keegan didn’t like it but he had to live with it. They’d been riding daylight to dark most every day, and everyone was exhausted and short-tempered, especially Lady Patience. ’Haps her injury added to her bad mood.

He put her from his mind and thought of someone more pleasant. He grinned, remembering how he had enjoyed Seona riding with him for those few hours two days before. Now, he simply rode close to her in the event something threatened her safety. He relished the secret smiles she sent his way. But they’d had no more opportunities for a moment alone or for knife-fighting practice.

It had to be around midday but the sky was thickly overcast. The terrain turned from moorland to rough and rocky as they approached the pass through the mountains. Most everywhere he looked now, he saw gray granite and scrubby gorse bushes.

Something struck the ground nearby. An arrow?

“We’re being shot at!” Keegan glanced up at the cliffs above them and saw a figure with a bow drawn. “’Tis an ambush!” Keegan yelled, raising his targe and urging Curry forward, between Seona and the outlaws. “Archers!”

Their archers leapt to their feet and took up positions. A few fired arrows up toward the cliffs.

Dirk dismounted and slapped his horse on the rump. “Escort the women further along and take cover behind those boulders,” he told Keegan.

“I’ll protect them with my life,” Keegan said.

“I thank you, cousin.” Dirk directed five more of the guards to help Keegan.

Much as he’d love to be at the forefront, fighting the knaves, Keegan knew protecting the women was the main goal.

“Haldane may come after you because he’s wanting to kidnap Seona,” Dirk said.

“Aye. That bastard,” Keegan muttered, motioning for the women to precede him and head for cover. “Get behind the boulders.” Once they were beyond the range of Haldane’s archers, he and the guards helped them dismount.

Keegan stood peering out, the women and most of the horses behind him. Aside from Keegan, MacMillan, and four other guards, the rest of the men were fighting beside Dirk.

“Surround the women,” Keegan told the guards with him. “The outlaws may try to sneak up from behind again.”

“What do you see?” Isobel asked. “Is Dirk safe?”

“Aye. Naught is happening yet.” At least, nothing that he could see. The outlaws were no doubt doing something sneaky. Keegan wanted to be standing beside Dirk, ready to take down Haldane if he came close. The weasel was likely too afraid to face Dirk and fight hand to hand. Haldane was no match for him, anyway, and he knew it. He’d have his archers do most of the work. But they would run out of arrows eventually.

Keegan glanced around, making certain no one had circled behind them. He had to keep on high alert because Haldane had a powerful obsession for Seona, and he couldn’t lose her at all costs.

Facing forward again, he noticed the movement of plaid behind a bush off to the side, near Dirk and the others.

“To the left!” he called out.

Dirk shifted his focus. “Come out, wee cowards, and fight like men,” he yelled.

More than a dozen men broke from the bushes, charging Dirk and his guards. ’Slud! Haldane’s force was far bigger than last time, making the two sides more evenly matched. Where the devil had Haldane found more men? Some were several years older than most of Haldane’s gang.

Keegan cursed, annoyed he couldn’t join in and help protect the chief. Although, clearly, his cousin could protect himself. He dealt two of them killing thrusts with his sword.

The gray-haired McMurdo engaged Dirk in swordplay. Dirk was the stronger fighter and he drove McMurdo back, while the other guards fought the remaining outlaws.

A movement up the hill caught Keegan’s attention. One of the younger men in Haldane’s party, Gil, drew back his bow.

“Dirk! Up the hill!” Keegan shouted.

Just after Gil released the bow string, Dirk leapt to the side. The arrow struck Dirk’s lower leg.

“Iosa is Muire Mhàthair,” Keegan muttered.

McMurdo came back after Dirk.

“Damn the old bastard,” Keegan muttered, yearning to charge forward.

“What is happening?” Isobel asked behind him. “Is Dirk hurt?”

“Shh.” Keegan waved her back. There was naught she could do about his injury now. If he allowed her to get hurt, Dirk would string him up.

Rebbie moved in to help Dirk, beating McMurdo back. But Dirk was holding his own despite the arrow protruding from his calf.

Two more of Haldane’s men fell beneath the blades of the MacKay guards, both of them too young to be seasoned warriors. Keegan knew them, for they had both been part of the MacKay clan before Haldane had gone rogue and led the other lads astray.

Where was Haldane, anyway?

Keegan surveyed the area around himself and beyond. “Keep alert,” he told the guards.

Five men emerged from behind a rock formation several yards behind them. Haldane led the charge, his long red hair flying back in the breeze, his teeth bared in a snarl, and his green eyes glinting with pure bloodlust.

“There!” Keegan told the guards.

Placing the women between himself and the boulders, Keegan assumed the guard stance. In passing, he noticed knives in both Seona’s and Isobel’s hands. He hoped they could protect themselves if need be. But he didn’t want it to come to that.

Haldane avoided him and engaged one of the other guards in swordplay. Coward.

Keegan had never before seen the scraggly man who ran toward him. Though he looked scrawny, the first blow from his sword was passable. Keegan was faster and stronger and three strikes later, he ran the man through the abdomen. He shrieked and collapsed, writhing in pain. After disarming him, Keegan turned his attention to the other outlaws. One of the guards had already cut one of the knave’s throats. Haldane and the other two turned tail and ran the way they’d come.

He couldn’t believe what cowards they were. “Come back, you bastards!” Keegan yelled. He wanted to finish the three of them off.

Once they’d disappeared from sight like terrified rabbits, he glanced back toward where Dirk and the other men were fighting.

Despite his injury, Dirk was still slashing and thrusting.

His blade sliced McMurdo’s shoulder and the older man jumped back. Then he fled.

Twenty feet away, he turned back and yelled for the other men to retreat. He obviously knew the outlaws were on the losing side of the skirmish now, even with the reinforcements they’d found along the way.

Rebbie chased after McMurdo, but the old man was quicker than he looked. A few of the other brigands fled to the left, down an embankment and through the bushes.

“Is Dirk hurt?” Isobel demanded, sidling up to him.

Since the outlaws were gone, he could reveal the truth. Still, he grabbed her arm so she wouldn’t go running out there too soon. “An arrow struck his calf.”

“What? Oh good lord!” She tried to jerk away from him. “Unhand me, Keegan.”

Dirk limped in their direction, his face red, eyes wild and jaw clenched.

Keegan released Isobel. Making sure Seona was beside him for her own safety, he moved toward Dirk. Isobel fussed over him, crying.

“Calm yourself, Isobel. ’Tis naught to worry over. Merely a flesh wound,” Dirk said, his voice rough. He was obviously trying to hide his pain.

“How do you feel?” Keegan asked him.

“I’ll live.”

“How will we remove it?” Isobel asked.

“Rebbie will do it. Go over there with the ladies so you don’t have to watch. I don’t want you to pass out.”

“Are you mad? I’ll not be passing out.”

“Keegan, make her stay with Lady Seona.”

“Lady Isobel.” Keegan motioned toward the boulders.

“Don’t make the man have to carry you, Isobel,” Dirk said in a tone that brooked no argument. “I’ve had far worse injuries than this.”

She huffed, her eyes glistening with tears, then proceeded back toward the boulder with Seona.

Keegan followed. “He will be well, I’m certain.”

“But he could get infection and fever,” she said, trying to suppress her sobs.

Behind them, Dirk growled and Isobel turned to run back toward him. Keegan caught her arm and ushered her once again toward Seona. “Removing the arrow will be painful, no doubt,” Keegan said. He’d never been shot with an arrow so couldn’t say from experience, but it had to hurt something awful. He glanced back to see Dirk lying on the rocky ground and Rebbie knelt over him, working on his leg. The two had fought battles on the continent together and had been treating each other’s wounds for years.

“I want to kill Haldane and his damnable archer,” Isobel muttered, striding forward, a glower on her face.

“As do I,” Keegan said.

Isobel and Seona sat together on one of the rocks beside the wide-eyed and pale Lady Patience, while Keegan and the other guards kept watch for returning outlaws. Several men stood around Dirk, mostly blocking Isobel’s view of his bloody leg. He could certainly understand Dirk’s need to keep her shielded from most of it, although she had never seemed squeamish to him.

He was glad to see she took some comfort from having Seona by her side as she watched the proceedings from a distance. Seona was also a bit pale. Her worried gaze met his.

“He will recover quickly,” Keegan said. How could he not? He was one of the strongest and most resilient men Keegan knew.

“Aye, he will,” Seona said, putting an arm around Isobel’s shoulders and comforting her. “All will be well.”

A quarter hour later, Dirk’s calf was bound in linen cloths, most likely someone’s clean shirt that had been ripped up, and most of the bleeding had stopped. Rebbie had poured whisky on it along with some powdered healing herbs he carried with him. Dirk pushed himself to his feet, though his face was ashen.

Isobel ran to him and slipped an arm around his waist. “Lean on me. Don’t put any weight on your right leg.”

“Don’t fash yourself. I am well.” He limped forward, gritting his teeth.

“You are lying,” Isobel accused.

“Naught a wee dram of whisky won’t cure.”

“You’re in luck. I have some,” Keegan said, digging into one of the packs on his horse.

After Dirk had two generous swigs of whisky, he hoisted himself into the saddle using his uninjured leg. Everyone else followed suit.

Keegan helped Seona mount again and they were on their way.

He divided his attention between Seona, Dirk and the surrounding cliffs. He had to make sure Seona was safe, but at the same time, his concern for Dirk grew. Riding the horse had to be jarring his injured leg and causing severe pain. His skin remained pale and his jaw clenched. He couldn’t drink enough whisky to kill the pain and stay in the saddle at the same time.

Isobel was right to worry about the infection and fever. ’Twould be the worst part to get through.

***

After riding a couple of hours, they reached Ullapool, a wee village on the bay of Loch Broom.

“Is there an inn here?” Keegan asked.

“Nay.” Dirk was sweating and pale when he dismounted, which concerned Keegan a great deal. And ’twas clear he was holding his breath half the time. “One of Isobel’s distant cousins, Linden MacKenzie, owns that manor house, there.” Dirk pointed at a thatched-roof, whitewashed structure, much larger than a cottage, yet not as large as a castle. “He has a shipping business, transporting goods from the ports down south out to the islands.”

“You need to lie down, cousin,” Keegan told him.

“Aye. And a half-pint of whisky wouldn’t hurt either.”

Keegan sent one of the guards to purchase more whisky while Dirk, Isobel, Rebbie and a few of the others went to speak to her cousin about their party staying the night.

Rebbie returned, reporting that Isobel’s cousin had welcomed them to stay and had four empty rooms with beds for their use.

The women disappeared inside the manor house, as did Dirk and Rebbie. MacMillan carried Lady Patience inside because of her wrenched ankle.

Keegan and most of the other men waited outside, on the lookout for Haldane or any of his party who might have followed. Since Keegan didn’t know the new men Haldane had enlisted, ’twas even harder to spot the knaves. He simply didn’t allow anyone near the house. The five-foot stone wall around it might deter petty thieves, but it was too low to provide much defense. The wooden gate was sturdy but open. Hopefully, it would be locked at night. If someone wanted to attack, ’twould be too easy to take over the house. Their guards would have to take shifts tonight, securing the perimeter.

The door of the manor house opened. MacMillan exited and approached him, a frown contorting his dark brows. “Lady Isobel wishes to see you inside.”

Saints. Was Dirk worse?

“You and the other guards need to secure the perimeter of the house,” Keegan said.

“Aye, we’ll be on the lookout for the bastards.”

Keegan strode toward the entry, and a servant opened the door.

Isobel awaited him, just inside. She was pale, her brown eyes too large. “Dirk wishes to speak with you upstairs.”

“Very well.” Cold dread weighed heavily in Keegan’s chest. “Is something wrong?”

“Nay. He is the same but wanted to talk to you.”

She walked with him up the straight stone staircase, opened the door to the bedchamber, then left.

Keegan entered the room, lit by the late evening sunrays that sliced through the clouds, to find Dirk reclining in a large bed, his leg propped on pillows and several more behind his back.

“How are you feeling?” Keegan asked, moving forward.

“Like my leg is shot full of holes. ’Tis hard to believe there is only one through it.” Dirk took a sip of whisky from a small goblet. “Have a seat.” He motioned to a straight wooden chair by the bed, then poured Keegan a dram of whisky in another goblet.

“I thank you.” Keegan sipped the fiery liquid. “I’m certain you’ll be back to your old self in a few days.”

“Aye. ’Tis not the first time I’ve been shot with an arrow. I took one in the shoulder early last fall in Perth.”

Keegan dropped into the chair by the bed, relaxing a bit since Dirk wasn’t as bad as he’d feared.

“I want to thank you for protecting Isobel during the skirmish,” Dirk said. “She means more to me than my own life.”

The sincerity in Dirk’s pale blue eyes, as well as the obvious and profound love he held for his wife, stalled out any words Keegan might say in response. He gave a brief nod.

“If anything happens to me, promise me that you will protect her,” Dirk said, his eyes fiercely intense.

“Och.” With the sound, Keegan released some of the pressure in his chest. “Naught is going to happen to you, cousin!”

“If it does. Promise me.” Dirk’s gaze remained piercing.

“Aye, of course. You ken I would protect both you and Isobel with mine own life.”

“I thank you. That means more than I can say.” He relaxed back a bit.

“I’m certain you will be well in a matter of days. As you said, you’ve been injured many times before.”

Dirk nodded and sipped the whisky again. “Haldane is a menace. I had no inkling he would come back with such a vengeance this spring. I thought… hoped… he’d escaped to the Lowlands where he’d stop his outlaw ways and start a new life. But I doubt he will ever change. He has too much of his devious mother in him.”

“Aye, that he does.”

Dirk inhaled a deep breath and let it out slow. “You’re not only my cousin, but also a good friend, as you’ve been the whole of my life.”

“Aye,” Keegan said hesitantly, wondering what was on Dirk’s mind now. Had the whisky loosed his tongue?

“I’ve been meaning to speak with you about something,” Dirk said. “I’ve thought long and hard on it. I want you to be my tanist until I have an heir who is of age.”

“What?” Keegan frowned. Why would Dirk name him heir apparent to the chiefdom? “Nay. Aiden is tanist, as he should be. He’s your brother.”

Dirk shook his head. “He doesn’t want the position. If something should happen to me before I sire an heir, Aiden might be baron but he could never lead the clan. You saw the kind of chief he was before I came back. He’s not a leader. He’s a minstrel and a piper, a very talented one. He’s more than happy to simply play music. He told me you would make a better tanist, and I agree.”

Shocked to the core, Keegan swallowed hard. This was something he’d never expected. “Well…I thank you. I’m honored you chose me. I’d be more than happy to fill the role, until you have a son, although I’m your cousin, not your brother.”

“You’re like a brother to me,” Dirk assured him.

“And you’re like a brother to me as well.” Even though Keegan had three younger brothers, he actually felt closer to Dirk. Maybe because the two of them were alike in many ways and near the same age.

“You’re a fearsome warrior. A strong leader,” Dirk said. “You’ve been head of the guards for a long while now.”

“Aye.” Four years, in fact.

“You ken what is expected of a chief. You watched my father lead the clan for years, even while I was away.”

Keegan nodded. “He was a great chief, as you are.”

“I can only aspire to be as good a leader as he was,” Dirk said. “Anyway, I want the clan and Isobel to be safe and protected should Haldane or his men hit their mark next time.”




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