Return of the Highlander (9 page)

“But it was fifteen years ago,” she said. “You couldn’t have been more than—”

“I was eleven and Darach was fourteen.”

She regarded Darach on the other side of the fire. “You were there, too?”

“I was,” he replied, still staring up at the night sky while crickets chirped in the grass. “But I don’t see the point in discussing it, especially when your clan was fighting for the English Crown, on the opposite side of the field.”

She watched him raise a knee, toss an arm up under his head, and continue to stare up at the stars.

“Did you lose anyone else in that battle?” she asked Logan, choosing to ignore what was in the past and could not be changed. Besides that, her father had recently reversed his political leanings, so she wasn’t quite sure what to say about that.

Something dark flickered across Logan’s expression. “Darach and I lost
everyone
in that battle, lass, and we were forced to escape the field alone. That’s when we were taken in by the great Laird of Kinloch—Angus the Lion’s father. He became like a father to us as well, and Angus, like a brother. We’ve lived at Kinloch ever since.”

“So that explains why you are both so loyal to him,” she surmised, “and why you agreed to escort me home when I doubt either of you were delighted to be helping a Campbell.”

Logan smiled at her. “I can speak for myself at least, lass, when I say that I am happy to do it.”

Darach shook his head disapprovingly.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” Larena said to Logan. “You’ve been very forthcoming, but I should retire now. It’s been a long day and tomorrow will be more of the same.”

She moved to her bedroll, lay down, and forced herself to close her eyes.

* * *

It took a while for her to fall asleep, and when she finally did, she slept soundly all night—at least until a hand covered her mouth in the pre-dawn hour. Her breath caught in her throat. Suddenly she found herself pinned to the ground, kicking her legs, and blinking up at a ferocious looking Highlander, silhouetted against the faint morning light in the sky.

“
Shhh
… Be quiet, lass,” he whispered, applying his solid, massive strength to hold her down while she struggled to make sense of his words. “You must trust me now,” he said, “and do what I say, or your father will surely die.”

With eyes wide as saucers, Larena frantically nodded her head.

Chapter Eleven

Larena waited for Logan to remove his hand from her mouth and explain himself. Swiftly, he surveyed the surrounding area, then slowly sat back on his haunches.

“What do you mean?” she whispered, scrambling to her knees.

“Do not panic.” He glanced over his shoulder again and held up a hand. He appeared to be listening to the sounds of the forest, which had gone silent as the grave. “We must leave here now,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because my brother doesn’t like you very much, lass. As you know, he’s held a grudge against the Campbells for a long time, ever since Sheriffmuir when we lost everything, and I fear he might do something impulsive.”

“Like what?”

“Like destroy the King’s pardon that you carry, or worse, escort you through the castle gates and unleash his vengeance on everyone.”

“I don’t understand,” she said. “What are you saying? This is madness.”

“Aye,” Logan replied, rising to his feet and gathering up her belongings. “But that’s my brother. Mad as a meat ax. You’ve seen him. You must know…”

No, in fact, she knew nothing…nothing about the dark brother at all
.

Logan picked up Rupert’s saddle and carried it to where the horses were tethered in the woods.

“But where is he?” she asked, her eyes darting to the empty bedroll on the other side of the fire.

“Do not worry, lass,” Logan replied. “He can’t catch us. At least not for a while.”

“But what happened? Tell me, Logan. I must know.”

“We had another disagreement,” he explained as he quickly bent to fasten the cinches under Rupert’s belly. “This one was worse than the others. I didn’t tell you before because I didn’t want to worry you, but Darach’s been wanting to use you to exact some sort of revenge. I’ve been trying to talk him out of it, but he lost his patience this morning and stormed off. I didn’t know what he might do, so I followed him.”

“Where?”

Logan returned to pack up his own bedroll. “Into the woods. It seems a bit idiotic now, but neither of us wanted to wake you.”

“I assure you,” she replied, “I would have preferred to be awakened so I could at least take part in the discussion. I still don’t understand what’s happening.”

Logan flung a saddle bag over his shoulder, then turned to face her. “I’ll explain everything when we’re away from here. For now, all you need to know is that I clubbed him over the head and tied him to a tree.”

Larena’s mouth fell open. “
You did what?
But he’s your brother.”

“Aye, but he wanted to burn your father’s pardon and use you as a pawn. I’m not sure what his plan was after that, but there was some talk about breaking into the armory, setting fire to the munitions, and blowing the whole castle to bits.”

“That would be suicide,” Larena said, following Logan back to his horse while dozens of ghastly images of destruction flooded her mind. “Even if he managed to escape, he’d never get away with it.”

“To be honest, lass, I don’t think he cares whether he lives or dies. Now pack up your belongings. We need to leave here and get you home where you’ll be safe.”

“But do we have the pardon?” she asked in a panic. “He didn’t take it, did he?”

Logan crouched down to pick up Larena’s saddlebags. He unfastened the larger pouch and dug into it, searching for the document. “It’s here. But you need to keep it close to you.”

Moving quickly, she stepped forward and seized the pack from his hands. “Believe me, I intend to.”

* * *

Darach woke to the peculiar sensation of a large tongue on his eyelids, licking wetly. For a few puzzling seconds he thought he might be dreaming that he was in bed with a randy lass. Then reality came crashing into his brain. His eyes flew open to the sight of his horse, Miller, slobbering all over his face. Miller’s huge nostrils flared and he nickered pleasurably. His steamy breath smelled like a barnyard.

“
Ach!
” Darach tossed his head to the side to avoid another giant lick and realized with an explosion of fury that his wrists were tied behind his back and he was bound to a tree.

Pounding agony exploded in his skull and he writhed about violently to free himself.

“
Logan!
” he roared. “
I’ll kill you for this!
”

He sat still for a moment to listen. Was Logan still at the camp? How far away was it? Darach had no idea how far they’d walked in the darkness while arguing the night before. He’d been so bloody distracted by Logan’s foolish ideas and ridiculous ambitions. Darach cursed himself for letting his guard down and turning away—back toward the camp where they’d left Larena sleeping alone—but Darach hadn’t imagined his own brother was capable of such treachery as this.

God almighty
.
Had Logan abducted Larena and made off with the King’s pardon as well?
Just the thought of it inflamed Darach’s wrath to an uncontrollable degree, because there was no telling what Logan might do when he reached Leathan Castle.

Darach had always known his brother dreamed of one day taking revenge on Larena’s father for what he did to theirs. Logan had been flirting with Larena and gaining her trust since the moment she woke in the prison cell at Kinloch. From the beginning, he’d wanted to use her to get close to Colonel Gregory Chatham, then get his hands on her father. Darach had done his best to talk him out of it because nothing could bring their father back, but obviously he had failed.

An image of Logan attempting to seduce Larena before they even arrived sent a hot flash of rage into Darach’s blood, for he couldn’t deny his own misplaced desires where the lassie was concerned. And because of that, look at him now? Tied to a tree because he’d been distracted by thoughts of what he’d like to do to her every hour of the day—how he’d like to touch her, hold her, and bury himself in her hot, sweet depths.

Grunting savagely, he struggled and pulled at the bonds.

He never should have accepted this mission, much less allowed Logan to accompany him. He should have flat out refused to allow Logan to come.

Bloody hell
. The pain in Darach’s head was excruciating. Far worse than the lump he’d taken from Larena in the creek bed. That had been nothing compared to this.

“Logan!” he shouted as he fought in vain against the bonds.

His brother was a rotten little shit for hitting him so hard with that tree branch. Wait till Darach got his hands on him. He was going to thrash him senseless, to within an inch of his life.

* * *

Larena and Logan didn’t stop to make camp until the following night when the moon was well on its rise. By that time she was exhausted, starving and feeling more than a little uncertain about the choice she had made that morning at dawn.

She had presumed Logan was her champion, there to rescue her and her clan from his brother’s fanatical intentions. But since they’d left Darach behind, something in Logan’s demeanor had changed. He had become moody and incommunicative, and despite her protestations about over-exhausting the horses, he had insisted they push on through swollen rivers and thick forests. Clearly he was obsessed with the goal of reaching Leathan Castle before Darach could reach it first.

Logically, of course, this made sense to Larena—for if Darach intended to do harm, it was of the utmost importance that they arrive in time to warn her clan and the officers in charge of the garrison.

Presuming Darach was still alive…

She wasn’t entirely sure about that, for Logan said he was unconscious when he’d left him behind. Such a blow to the head could be fatal.

As a result, Larena had begun to question Logan’s sense of loyalty. Darach was his own flesh and blood. How could he simply leave his brother for dead? Was Darach truly that much of a villain? Or was there some other rivalry between them that she did not yet understand?

* * *

As soon as a fire was lit near a steep rock face in the woods—and with many questions still poking about in her mind—Larena dug into the packs in search of whatever was left of their provisions, for her belly was growling like a beast.

She found bread and cheese and a small serving of salt pork. On the other side of the fire, Logan uncorked the wine jug and sniffed it. With a finger hooked through the handle, he jiggled it about and rolled his eyes when a small amount sloshed around in the bottom.

“You may have whatever’s left,” Larena offered. “I’ll be happy to take the salt pork in exchange for my share.”

“Whatever pleases you, lass,” he replied, tipping the jug up to drink thirstily from the spout.

“There’s enough bread and cheese for us both,” she helpfully proposed.

Logan stood up to circle around the fire and held out his hand. “I’ll take some of that, then.”

Larena reached out to offer what was left after she claimed her own fair share. Then they sat down across from each other and ate ravenously until everything was gone.

“What will we do tomorrow?” she asked. “Any chance we’ll pass through a village where we can replenish our supplies?”

“No chance at all,” Logan replied, leaning back against the rock face. “We’ll ride as hard as the horses can handle so we don’t lose any time.”

“Because you’re afraid Darach might reach Leathan before us?” she asked, wanting to hear him say it again. She wanted to listen to the tone of his voice and study his eyes when he answered her.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Logan replied with a look of sinister intent that sent a cold shiver down her spine.

She thought it would be best not to arouse his suspicions. “No…of course not.”

Logan lay down on his bedroll. “Get some rest, lass.”

Eventually Larena lay down as well. For a long while, she stared into the noisy, crackling fire. “Did Darach truly say he would blow Leathan Castle to bits?” she asked out of the blue.

“Aye,” Logan replied. “Now go to sleep. Tomorrow will be another long day.”

“I’ll pray for good weather then.” Raising the coverlet up to her ears, Larena feigned sleep, but every few minutes, she opened her eyes to observe Logan through the flames.

* * *

When Larena felt certain that Logan had fallen into a deep slumber, she slid quietly out of her bedroll and opened her saddle pouch. The most important item to retrieve was the King’s pardon, which she found inside the pack. Carefully she examined it in the light of the dying fire to make sure it was the actual document she’d started out with.

Ascertaining that all was in order, she slipped it into her cleavage, rose to her feet as quietly as possible, and tiptoed to where Rupert was tethered to a branch next to Logan’s horse. Knowing it was too great a risk to try and saddle him, she quietly untied the leather strap and commanded him to kneel so that she might mount.