Angel of Skye (29 page)

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Authors: May McGoldrick

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #highlander, #jan coffey, #may mcgoldrick, #henry viii, #trilogy, #braveheart, #tudors

A mile or two, unto a mansion

Built exceedingly well...

—Robert Henryson “
Testament of Cresseid

 

“Let sleeping dogs lie.”

“Never!”

Fiona tossed her head angrily at Alec’s comment.

The sun was nearly overhead as, side by side at the head of the group of warriors, they crossed over a heather-covered ridge and started down into the valley that marked the beginning of Macpherson lands. If all went well, Alec said, they would reach Benmore Castle the next evening.

Fiona looked out across the wild green Highland hills, across a patchwork of hawthorn and pine groves, toward the high-peaked Grampian Mountains to the south.

They had been talking about marriage, about whether Benmore Castle was the right place for it. There was nothing Fiona wanted more than an eternity of wedded bliss with Alec Macpherson, but Fiona had something she needed to attend to first.

“Alec, I have to go to Drummond Castle,” she repeated. “Before I can get on with the rest of my life, I need to do that.”

“What do you hope to accomplish there?” he asked. “Why first? Why can’t we go there after we are married?”

“Because I’m afraid of getting distracted by the wonderful things life with you will offer,” she said honestly, and from Alec’s expression she knew he believed her. “My mother did not commit suicide, Alec. I know that.”

“Fiona, have you really spent any time thinking about this?”

“Of course I’ve thought of it. This has been haunting me all my life, Alec.”

“Then tell me. Who could be left there to support what you say, Fiona? Fourteen long years have passed, and no one spoke up when even the king came looking for answers. What makes you think they’ll speak now?”

Fiona thought of the people who had served her mother. They were all faceless... nameless, now. All but Nanna. And what were the chances of her still being alive? She’d seemed so ancient then. And why hadn’t she spoken up?

“Fiona, there are other things. Things you should consider.” Alec’s face was grim as he reached over for her hand. Fiona looked up into his face at the gesture of support.

“Suppose, for a moment,” Alec continued, “you were able to prove the truth of what happened. What then?”

“Then her name is cleared and justice will be brought to bear on those responsible for her murder.”

“But what if those rumors about her murder were true. What if that act was perpetrated in the belief that your mother’s death was the key to peace with England. That it was in Scotland’s best interest. When your mother died, Fiona, King James had no reason to put off marrying the English princess.”

“Are you defending those animals?” she asked fiercely. “Are you saying that she deserved to die because some nobles wanted to do business with England?”

“Nay, lass. I’m defending no one’s barbarism. I’m just saying that vengeance will be difficult to bring against people who may have acted believing they were doing the right thing.”

“Perhaps for you, but not for me. This is my mother, a woman who simply loved a man.”

“A king, Fiona,” Alec said, looking steadily into her eyes. Wherever her road led, he was determined to travel that road with her. He loved her, and he would protect her with all the might or influence he could bring to bear, no matter how high the trail to her mother’s killers might lead. “But whatever happens, Fiona, your fight is my fight. I only bring those things up to warn you of the difficulties that might lie ahead. And if you want to go to Drummond Castle before we marry, then I’ll go with you. I’ll not let you out of my sight again, my love.”

The breeze rippled through her flowing red locks, and Fiona looked up into his loving blue eyes.

“I need you, Alec,” she said softly. “This may all be in vain. All my hopes regarding my mother may turn to dust. But I have to try. I have to know.”

He drew her fingers to his lips. “We’ll find your answ—”

“Lord Alec, look!” Robert shouted from his position an arrowshot ahead.

The squire pointed to the top of the ridge beyond the valley. At least a hundred mounted warriors had emerged from a grove of oaks and were sweeping down into the valley. Fiona could see the hard charging soldiers were coming directly at them, and looked questioningly at Alec beside her as the horsemen around her reined in their animals. On the other side of her, David appeared, guiding his horse up next to her.

“Those are Macphersons, Fiona,” David said to her, nodding at the approaching troop.

“How can you tell?” she asked of no one in particular.

“David knew we’re on Macpherson land,” Alec responded. “But I certainly know the way my own brother sits in a saddle.”

The thundering of hooves grew louder as the riders approached. It seemed that in only an instant they covered the ground between them. The air was suddenly filled with the sound of shouts of welcome and friendly banter. The ruddy faces, the plaids, and the flash of metal crowded the valley with the swarm of Macpherson clansmen.

Fiona sat straight in her saddle, her hair flaming in the bright sunlight. The newcomers looked with interest at the beauty and murmurs of approval were heard on every quarter as they streamed around them.

A black-haired warrior rode directly to Alec at the center of the milling mass, and Fiona watched as he and Alec embraced one another from the backs of their horses. He was a handsome man, nearly as large as Alec, and when he turned his young and smiling face to her, there could be no doubt who he was. They had the same blue eyes, but as Alec’s spoke of confidence and years of experience, his brother’s spoke of mischief.

“Well, Alec, they said you were bringing back our princess, but they never said she was such a bonny lass.”

Before Alec could respond, John spurred his horse closer to her. Circling her steed, he eyed her appraisingly and reined in beside her.

“Good day to you, m’lady,” he said, graciously reaching out for her hand. When she took his hand tentatively, John lifted it to his lips in courteous greeting. As he spoke, he continued to hold her hand, his gaze never leaving her face. “I hope my brother, considering his characteristic stubbornness, has not made your journey overly arduous.”

“Why, thank you for asking. It is quite thoughtful of you.” She smiled, turning her sparkling hazel eyes to Alec as she withdrew her hand and placed it in the folds of her cloak.

“So then I suppose we have to assume it has been a difficult ride!”

“Why should you assume that? I have not said as much.”

“M’lady, you don’t have to,” John responded, throwing a roguish look in Alec’s direction. “You must be extremely weary from the hard ride...and from such tedious company.”

“You are quite insightful, for being a Macpherson,” she said impishly.

John threw his head back and laughed out loud as Alec spurred his charger in next to Fiona.

“Let me assure you, m’lady, Ambrose and I are not at all like him. In fact, it’s well known around here that the Macpherson offspring have improved with every birth.”

“Unfortunately for John, he was a foundling,” Alec muttered under his breath. “Beware of this ruffian, Fiona. He has a soul that matches that black hair of his. I can tell you that truthfully...for I love him as a brother.”

The men around them laughed at the banter.

“Oh, but foundlings are always the best stock,” she said, casting a playfully disdainful look at Alec. “If you recall, I happen to be one.”

“Aye, Fiona. But John is not quite the same as you. He was a foundling twice. We had no choice but to keep him.”

“That is another one of my numerous qualities. I always find my way back,” he said to Fiona confidentially. “On that note, m’lady of incomparable beauty, may I escort you the rest of the way to Benmore Castle?”

“Hold right there, you silver-tongued scoundrel,” Alec responded, nudging Ebon’s massive body in between Fiona’s and John’s steeds. “And don’t tempt me. Though you’re a wee bit large to stuff in a wicker basket, they say the third time is a charm.”

“Glad to see you admit the truth for a change Alec,” he said, smiling broadly and pulling his horse to Fiona’s free side. “Being the third, I am the charming one.”

“But, alas, you’re also the scrawniest.” Alec scowled, eyeing the lad who was every bit as tall and muscular as he.

“It’s not with feats of strength that I plan to entertain this enchantress for the rest of the journey, it’s with words of homage that will celebrate her beauty.”

“She has me to remind her of that beauty, scamp. So thanks for coming out to meet us and be on your way.”

Laughter rang out from the men around them, and Alec’s young brother joined in.

“Ah, so that’s the way it’s to be,” John concluded affably, steadying his mount and clapping Alec on the arm. “Well, this is going to be a merry homecoming, big brother. Won’t Mother be pleased? I’m certain she plans to spend a great deal of time alone with you to catch up on things.”

John turned back to Fiona. “And while Alec is doing his familial duty, m’lady, I’ll be at your service to make your stay as pleasant as possible.”

John stood up in his stirrups and respectfully bowed from the waist, and Fiona nodded back to him. “Welcome to the Macphersons’ ancestral lands, Your Highness.”

“Very well, John,” Alec conceded. He turned to Fiona, caught her smile, and nearly smiled himself. “You are the most charming in the land. But if you think we’re going to spend the whole day here while you show us how courtly a knight you are, we’ll all be as brown as Saracens from this sun. We’re leaving, so if you’d like to tag along... Oh, John, this is David MacLeod, a friend of father’s and the brother of the prioress at Newabbey.”

“Pleased to—” John began.

As his younger brother turned, Alec swatted the flank of Fiona’s mount and the two moved side by side through the clearing mass of Macpherson warriors. Moments later, Fiona looked happily at the grinning Alec as they broke into the open with John in hot pursuit. There was no sign of the cloud that had darkened Alec’s moods from time to time. He was happy. He was at home. Fiona wondered if she someday would feel this way on these lands. On any lands.

It wasn’t long until John caught up with them, and, three abreast, they led the troop of men at a canter up the far slope of the valley toward the forest ahead.

 

“Well, John,” Alec asked as they followed the ridge, skirting the edge of the thick wood, “what really brought you out here? You haven’t ridden out this far to greet me since you were nine years old. And you caught hell for it that time, as I remember.”

Alec’s memory of the humorous aftermath was cut short as John shot a questioning look in Fiona’s direction. The young man’s handsome face grew serious in an instant, and he gave Alec a meaningful glance over Fiona’s head.

“What’s amiss, John?” Alec asked. There was no point in trying to hide anything from Fiona. She was his soul-mate, his partner, his love.

“There was an attack.”

“On our ship from Skye?”

“Aye,” John answered. “Three days ago we received word that the ship you sent as a decoy toward Kildalton Castle was attacked.”

“Damn,” Alec said grimly. “Though I feared as much.”

“Was anyone hurt?” Fiona asked with concern. This was all her fault. They were after her. She never should have allowed others to put their own lives in danger for her. Alec had spoken of dangers, and he’d been right.

“None of our people,” John responded soothingly, seeing her distress. “One of Colin Campbell’s ships sailed into view just as the brigands fired their cannon at our ship. The filthy pirates broke off immediately.”

“Pirates?” Fiona blurted.

“There are sea dogs who will work for any who pay, Fiona,” Alec answered. He turned to John. “Did they catch them?”

“Aye,” John answered.

“Good! Where are they now?” Alec asked.

“Some are at the bottom of the Atlantic. The Campbell ship’s cannons blasted that ship out of the water.”

“Any survivors?”

“A few. But none of them knew anything except the mate. He was more than willing to talk, though.” John and Alec exchanged a knowing look. Those who raided the western shores and fell into the hands of their erstwhile victims were quick to look for opportunities to save their skins. “The mate is being held at Kildalton Castle. He says that they were waiting for this ship. And that there was a bounty for the red-haired princess.”

“Who would gain by having me?”

“Anyone,” Alec said. “Every laird in Scotland would give his right arm for you, Fiona...but for the wrong reasons.”

Fiona reached over for his hand, and Alec grasped it tightly before looking back at his brother.

“Who put the bounty on her head, John?”

“The mate doesn’t know. But he said the captain had received a casket of gold in advance from someone in the Highlands. That’s all he knows.”

Fiona felt a numbing deadness creep through her. It was an emptiness inside that came with the recollection of old and painful memories. Of events that occurred fourteen years earlier. A fleeting thought linked the incidents that were divided by tremendous distance and by even longer years. Somehow she knew they were all connected.

“So that’s why we came to meet you,” John concluded. “Whoever paid for that attack would soon learn that you weren’t on that ship. We just weren’t sure how soon the news would reach him.”

Fiona tried to recall the events of their trip. “The ones behind this could not have been from Skye or the Outer Hebrides.”

“Isn’t it a bit early to rule anyone out?” John asked, turning in her direction.

“She is right, John,” Alec said thoughtfully. “With exception of Neil MacLeod, who fled Skye a few days before we left, everyone out there knew we took the land route. They would have known the boat was just a decoy.”

“Wouldn’t it have been smarter to keep your plan a secret?” John asked critically.

“Believe me, I had no choice.” Alec turned, looking at the blushing face of Fiona. “This beauty is not just our princess returning to the land of the living.”

“No?”

“Fiona is a lot more. She is the fairy princess who rescues those in danger. She is the wood nymph who guards the lepers. She is the kelpie who swims the lochs. She is the beloved rebel who breaks every rule.” Alec paused. “This, John, is the Angel of Skye.”

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