The Warrior Laird (27 page)

 

Chapter 32

“Y
ou!
You know of Lady Maura?” Baron Kildary demanded.

Alastair Baird had let slip that he was Maura Duncanson's escort. And that she'd run away from him.

“You incompetent idiot!”

The day was cool but Baird began to sweat. Why had he spoken of her? Jesus God. 'Twas because he had not slept well with so many strangers about—even though they were soldiers just like he. He'd been so unnerved by them . . . and his father had not left him alone. At least the old hag had not spoken even once all night long.

He should be grateful for that.

“M-my lord, I—”

“You lost my bride to that bastard MacMillan,” Kildary sneered, and Baird's eyes locked on to the old man's pointed white beard. “You are the one who's costing me another three thousand pounds to wed the wench!”

“Lady Maura is not a usual sort of p-person, my lord,” Alastair said. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “She has . . . powers . . .”
Try not to be any more of a fool, Alastair
.

“What do you say, man?” Kildary demanded. “The woman is a witch?”

Alastair swallowed and somehow managed not to scream at his father . . . er, Lord Kildary. He rubbed his eyes and focused on the man before him. “She is a wily—”

“Ach, enough blather,” Kildary said. “ 'Tis your fault that I've been dragged out here to this raw country to ransom my own bride!”

The soldiers all stood by, watching—some laughing behind their hands—at Alastair's humiliation. He remembered now . . . 'twas exactly like the harsh chastisements his father gave when he was a lad. And later, after his scolding, the servants would jeer and repeat the general's words.

His father's pointed white beard bobbed as the man spewed his disdain, and Alastair wished for his pistol. He wished 'twas loaded and primed, and in his hand. He could shoot the old bastard dead right now and show the others he was not so incompetent. He was a man of some significant ability, not to mention good sense.

He was well past due for a promotion, by God!

The old man did not wait for any response from Alastair, but whirled away and mounted his horse. “Let's move, Captain. I have no time for fools.”

Aye, you are a fool, Alastair. Not even your mother could abide you.

“Shut up,” he muttered to the baron's back. His eyes blinked furiously, a habit he'd never been able to control. “What do you know of my mother?”

D
ugan had been right. It had only taken a few hours to reach Loch Aveboyne. When he and Maura arrived at the western shore, the men had already taken the shovels and ax out of the wagon and were rolling the largest rocks off the ground where they'd stood for years.

Maura hoped they would soon find the one that had been in place a mere two years.

'Twas a nebulous task. How deep should they dig before giving up on any one site? Which of the rocks was large enough to hide a treasure underneath? Which one would yield the prize Dugan needed so desperately?

They dismounted, and Dugan took out the maps once again. “Maura, will you study this again, and try to make sense of the word that's missing?”

“Dugan—”

“I know. You want to go to Loch Camerochlan right away. But a few hours' delay won't make any difference.”

Maura's stomach was tied in knots with worry. She desperately hoped Dugan was right, and someone had taken her sister in, but she knew 'twould be a hardship. Rosie could not work . . .

She forced her thoughts toward the clues on the pieces of map, carrying them away from the water's edge. She unrolled them and studied the words etched in wax, but could not put an end to her anxiety. She was afraid to let herself feel as confident as Dugan did about the treasure.

What if he did not find it? Would he go to war with Argyll?

The thought of it made her feel ill.

The men removed their shirts and began to dig, but Maura had eyes only for Dugan, the man who would lead his clan into battle against Argyll's army if he did not find the treasure. His decision not to give her to Kildary left him no choice.

Maura tried rubbing dust on the clues again, but the word starting with
ro
did not become any clearer. She eventually gave up trying to see it, or guessing what it might be, and joined the men in their search.

It was a rocky terrain at the water's edge, and some of the rocks resembled small boulders. By dusk, the men had overturned a dozen of them, but had found no sign of any treasure.

“We'll continue by firelight,” Dugan said.

“Christ, Dugan,” Lachann said, leaning on his shovel, “when will you accept that—”

“Just keep digging, Lachann,” Dugan said. “ 'Tis here. I know it.”

'T
was the strangest sensation—the surety Dugan felt about the treasure and this location. As soon as he'd realized Maura was the ally he needed, he was certain he'd find the gold under one of these bloody rocks.

And he'd decided that though she might carry the Duncanson name, she was hardly a representative of that contemptible clan.

Her heart was loyal, and her soul pure. Dugan wanted her in his house, in his bed—

“Riders coming!” Conall called.

Dugan immediately looked for Maura. “Maura!” he shouted. “Take Glencoe and hide in the trees away from the loch.”

Maura took Glencoe's reins and hurried away from the loch and into a stand of trees some distance from the shoreline.

“Toss your shovels into the wagon,” Dugan said in a deadly quiet tone, “and shove these rocks back into place before they get here.” They'd already covered most of their tracks from their digging for they didn't want anyone to come along and take note of what had taken place there.

They pulled on their shirts and brought their horses to the water, making it appear as though they'd just stopped to drink.

But shite
. 'Twas just what he did not need—highlanders . . . or worse, Sassenach treasure seekers.

A company of red-coated soldiers approached at a steady pace, coming closer with every second that passed. There were at least a dozen of them, and likely more at the rear.

“Swords ready,” he said, although he was nowhere near certain the four of them could handle twelve trained soldiers.

At least Maura was safely away.

“Dugan . . .” His brother spoke without moving.

“Aye?”

“Beside the officer at the head of the phalanx.”

“Aye. I see him,” Dugan responded. “An old man in a dark cloak. White beard.”

“Could it be Kildary?” Conall asked.

“Aye,” Dugan replied. “I think that's exactly who it is.” What other wealthy Sassenach lord would be riding on a direct route from Cromarty to Braemore?

“Dugan, he's come to pay the ransom!” Conall whispered.

“Do ye think we can take his gold from him?” Archie asked with the rashness of youth.

Dugan shrugged. “I doubt it, Arch. We are outnumbered.”

“We've been outnumbered before,” Archie said with bravado.

The riders came closer and Dugan recognized Lieutenant Baird among them. The man looked ill at ease, as well he should. He was the one who'd lost Maura. Dugan shuddered to think what could have happened to her had Dugan not pursued her from the inn at Fort William and found her.

He wanted to give her his protection—always.

“ 'Tis the lieutenant from Fort William, is it not, Dugan?” Conall asked. “The bald one.”

“Aye,” Dugan replied. “But he comes from the east, so he did not follow us here.”

“Do you think he found us by chance?”

“His direction is not from that of Caillich Castle . . . Somehow, he crossed paths with Kildary.”

“Dugan,” Lachann said. “We can put an end to this idiocy now. The woman has entertained you long enough. Give her to Kildary and we can be done with it.”

Dugan's temper flared and he fisted his hands at his sides. “No. And there will be hell to pay if you say one word of her to Kildary, Lachann.”

Dugan stalked away from his brother. Whatever happened, he knew now that he might well make an arse of himself over this woman, worse than Angus MacDonnall would ever do. But Maura was his woman. And no man—not even his brother—was going to interfere with the bond between them.

As the soldiers picked up their pace, Dugan knew he had to think quickly. 'Twould not be easy to untangle the situation he'd brought upon himself. He needed time to search for the gold, and by God, he was going to figure a way to get it.

“Archie, get into the wagon and stay low,” Dugan said. “And load your pistol. You'll know when 'tis time to fire.”

When the riders arrived, he was ready for them.

“There's a good twenty men, Dugan,” Conall said under his breath. “We'll never be able to take the three thousand pounds off Kildary with those odds.”

The soldiers came to a stop.

Baird dismounted all in a rush and approached Dugan, turning to address Kildary as he stumbled through the rocky sand. His voice sounded more than a little wild, and the Sassenach captain appeared discomfited by the lieutenant's breach of protocol.

“That's him! MacMillan!” Baird called to Kildary. He pulled off his hat and wiped his brow, his eyes blinking rapidly. “Where is she?” he shouted at Dugan.

“Return to your mount, Lieutenant!” the captain ordered.

“I'll handle this,” the white-bearded old man said as he dropped to the ground and came to stand in front of Dugan. “What have you done with my bride?”

“You are Kildary?”

“Of course I am Kildary! Where is the woman?”

M
aura heard Dugan say, “She is at Braemore. We sent her ahead with some of my men to wait for your arrival.”

“He lies!” Baird shouted.

“Search the woods!” ordered the officer who'd ridden beside Kildary.

Maura left Glencoe where he was and took off running. It was not yet dark, but she could see nowhere to hide. She kept going as fast as she could, but when she tripped and fell, she quickly found herself surrounded by men on horseback.

“That's far enough, Lady Maura.” An officer jumped down from his horse and confronted her. “I will take you to Baron Kildary.”

“No! Please!”

He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her up to her feet, then held on to her, pushing her roughly back to the loch where Dugan waited with Conall and Lachann. The soldiers who remained at the water's side stood with their pistols trained on the highlanders.

She desperately hoped Dugan would not do anything rash. She could not bear it if he was killed.

“Put her on one of the horses,” Kildary said.

“No!” Maura cried.

Dugan stood perfectly still, her fierce highland warrior with his jaw clenched tightly, powerless against the men who had their firearms aimed at him. His own sword remained in its belt, his bow and arrows in the back of the wagon. But where was Archie? Maura could not see him anywhere.

She screamed when one of the soldiers lifted her up, and tried kicking and pummeling to get him to drop her. But her efforts against him were for naught. He tossed her facedown across one of their horses, and the impact knocked the wind out of her so she could no longer scream. One of the soldiers mounted behind her and tied her hands together.

Maura could barely breathe, and tears of pain and frustration filled her eyes. A deep, dark despair filled her heart. She did not know what they would do to Dugan.

“Kill them,” Kildary said, his voice cold as ice.

“Dear God. Just like Glencoe,” Maura groaned. 'Twas an inhumane order, given by a callous excuse for a man.

They rode off, and a few moments later the sound of gunshots rang out.

 

Chapter 33

A
rchie took the first shot from where he'd lain hidden inside the wagon, twenty paces away. He gut-shot one of Kildary's soldiers.

The rest of the soldiers dropped to the ground, giving Dugan and his men the chance to draw their swords and mount their attack while Archie reloaded.

The odds were in Dugan's favor, for there were only seven Sassenach soldiers remaining. He took the two on the left, while Lachann and Conall split up the next four. Archie picked off the seventh with deadly accuracy.

Archie always had been the MacMillans' best shot, and Dugan was thankful he'd ordered the lad into the wagon before Kildary and his party had gotten close enough to take notice of him.

Dugan fought with passion, his sword serving him well, but Archie's shots served him even better, disrupting every attack the Sassenach soldiers attempted. While the redcoats ducked and looked for cover every time a shot was fired, Dugan and his men were confident Archie's shots would not go astray.

Dugan took one shallow slash to his upper arm, but 'twas hardly more than a scratch, and gave him the necessary sting of anger to finish off his two Sassenach soldiers and join forces with Conall and Lachann to lay waste to their opponents.

When it was done, he already had a plan in mind.

“We're going after Maura,” he said. “Lachann, are you with me?”

Lachann looked his brother dead in the eye, and Dugan hoped he finally saw that Maura was more than just a bit of entertainment for him. “Aye. We'll get her back.”

“Let's go, then!”

They flew onto their horses and tore off in the direction Kildary and his men had gone, catching sight of them through the trees, but staying far enough behind to keep out of sight. As darkness fell, it was more difficult to follow, but Kildary's company eventually stopped to make camp. 'Twas clear they believed they had naught to worry about.

T
he soldiers stopped in a rocky, wooded terrain and pulled Maura off the horse, none too gently. Kildary ordered her hands to be kept tied behind her, and one of the soldiers sat her down in the damp grass while they set up camp.

Maura felt numb, except for her shoulders, and they screamed in agony from being held so far from their natural position. Worse, the sound of those gunshots at Loch Aveboyne still rang in her ears and her heart ached with the knowledge that Kildary's men had killed Dugan. Tears of pain and despair ran down her face.

If only she'd given Dugan the clues earlier, everything might have been different. They might have made it to Loch Aveboyne sooner if he'd known where he needed to go.

Now he'd been killed, and on the orders of the man who was to be her husband.

Maura swallowed her tears and hardened her heart. She would
never
wed Baron Kildary. Because the first chance she got, she was going to shove a dagger into his cold, black heart.

The man was just as horrible as she'd expected, and certainly no better than her own kin who had carried out the slaughter of Dugan's innocent clan at Glencoe.

Maura took stock of her surroundings and tried to think of a plan in case she managed to free herself. She counted less than a dozen men at the camp site, and Lieutenant Baird was one of them. He looked at her with such malice her skin ought to have melted with just a glance.

Beneath his malice was something else, a menacing wildness Maura had seen only hints of before. His dark eyes seemed like dull, black pits of blame, and as he stared at her, he swatted at his ear as though swiping at a fly, while muttering some kind of nonsense to himself.

She realized he was mad. A sickening chill ran through her, and Maura had a clear sensation that he was going to try to kill her. It brought a new urgency to her need to escape, but she did not know how. If only her hands were not secured behind her!

She felt the rocky ground for something to use as a weapon—or something sharp to cut away at the bindings 'round her wrists. Baird growled incoherently at her and stomped away, and Maura felt she could breathe, if only for a moment.

And then her hands alit on a sharp-edged rock. She put it to use immediately, frantically sawing at the ropes that bound her wrists.

As she worked to free herself, she kept her eye on Baird, who stopped in the midst of the other soldiers who were at work making a fire, taking out provisions, and laying down bedrolls. The lieutenant stood there as though unsure of what he was about. Then he reached into one of the packs—

Maura could not see what he took out before her attention was deflected by Baron Kildary, who came to stand before her. Maura averted her eyes from the despicable old man. “Stop your sniveling, you willful quine.”

“I would wipe my face if my hands were free,” she snapped.

He slapped her, knocking her over. Maura tasted blood.

“Have you any idea how much trouble you put me to?”

Maura clamped her jaws together. There wasn't a retort in the world that mattered, now that Dugan was dead. Now that there was no possibility to get to Loch Camerochlan and rescue Rosie.

For once she killed the baron, she had no hope of survival. Either his soldiers would kill her or they would take her to Cromarty to be tried and hanged.

“Ach, I'm of a mind to send you back to your father.”

Maura licked the blood from her lip as she watched Kildary stalk away from her. He came up against Lieutenant Baird, who stood in his path and did not move aside for him. Maura saw that he held a pistol in one hand.

“Get out of my way, you useless dolt!” Kildary snarled. “This is your fault!”

Baird raised the pistol and aimed it at Kildary's chest.

“Idiot! Put that down!”

The captain of Kildary's company suddenly took note of Baird's threat and drew his sword. He lunged at Baird and ran him through with his blade, but he was too late. The gun went off with a deafening blast.

Kildary staggered and fell to the ground, with Lieutenant Baird on top of him.

D
ugan reached the encampment just as Kildary knocked Maura down. He lurched ahead, ready to rush the bastard when Conall held him back, pointing to Baird, who stood behind Kildary, his gun loaded and cocked.

“He's going to shoot him, Dugan.”

“Or Maura.” Dugan drew his sword and sprang from his hiding place and went for Maura. The shot rang out before he reached her, and suddenly the Sassenach camp came alive. The men seemed to believe they were under attack, and all drew their swords, looking for an enemy.

They found Dugan and his men.

The Sassenach captain pulled his sword from Baird's body and went for Maura, but Dugan yanked him 'round to face him. “Leave her be, you bloody bastard!”

The captain thrust his sword toward Dugan's chest, but Dugan blocked it, then parried with him as the rest of his men battled the other soldiers all 'round them.

Yet another blade came at Dugan, but he ducked and dodged it, then turned and dealt a killing blow to the captain. He wasted no time in doing the same to his second assailant.

He heard Maura scream just as his brother gave a shout to call Dugan's attention to her plight. One of the soldiers had grabbed her and was dragging her away from the camp.

Another swordsman prevented Dugan from going at once to Maura's aid, but he overpowered and slew the man without delay. He took off running.

M
aura had never felt so helpless. She tried to dig her heels into the hard ground to keep Kildary's soldier from being able to drag her any farther from camp, but he was far too strong for her to resist.

“Stop!” she cried.

“Shut yer trap, wench!”

“When Laird MacMillan comes after you—”

“Laird MacMillan is as good as dead,” he grumbled, but before he could finish saying the words, Dugan came at them with a roar that could frighten the very devil. The soldier dropped Maura to the ground and drew his sword. But he was too late. Dugan allowed the man two or three lunges, dodging easily before he dealt the killing jab.

The soldier fell to the ground and Dugan came to her.

“You're alive!” she cried.

“Aye,” he said. He took out his dirk and cut the rope that bound her hands and she nearly cried out as the blood came rushing back into her arms and hands. “You didn't think a few Sassenach soldiers could keep me from you, Maura.”

“I w-was so . . .” She took a sobbing breath as she grabbed hold of his arm. “They didn't slaughter you . . . l-like at Glencoe!”

He pulled her into his arms. “I'll never be so unprepared again, lass. Are you all right?”

“Dugan—”

“Stay here,” he said. He started to turn away, but drew her tight against him and kissed her, long and hard. “Hide until I come for you.”

Maura's knees felt wobbly, and she was bruised and battered all over. But she hid behind a tree where she could observe the battle taking place in the camp.

Her heart was in her throat as she watched, even though the highlanders seemed to have the advantage. When Dugan returned to the thick of the fighting, her warrior laird and his men finished off the last few soldiers.

Maura sank to the ground, hardly able to grasp all that had happened. She began to shiver, feeling as though she would never feel warm again.

D
ugan sought Maura in the woods outside camp and found her crumpled on the ground not nearly far enough away. Now that the danger was passed, he grinned wryly to himself and knelt down to gather her into his arms. “Will you never learn to follow an order, Maura mine?”

“I-I h-hid, just as y-you told me,” she said through chattering teeth.

He drew his plaid 'round her and held her close to warm her and stop her from shaking. “Ach, aye. Ten feet from the battle.”

“Mmm.” She cuddled closer, pressing her nose to his chest. It felt as though her shivering was beginning to subside.

“You're free now.” Dugan said the words, but they were far from satisfactory. There was a great deal more he wanted to say.

Maura lifted her head and gazed up at him. “Everything could have been so different, Dugan. You didn't find the gold at Aveboyne. You could have taken Kildary's money in exchange for me.”

“No. I couldn't, Maura,” Dugan replied as his lungs expanded with an emotion he only just recognized. “I love you, lass.”

Dugan realized he was holding his breath when she tightened her grip on his shirt. “Oh, Dugan! I love you so much! But I-I was afraid you could never . . . I mean, I'm a Dun—”

“The past doesn't matter any longer.” He kissed the palm of her hand. “I want you at my side, Maura, always. I want you for my wife.”

She sniffed her tears away and, with an exquisite tenderness that tugged at Dugan's heart, cupped his jaw in her hand. “Oh yes, Dugan MacMillan! I will be your wife!”

He rose to his feet and pulled Maura up after him, then lifted her into his arms. He wanted to get her away from the carnage of battle. “Let's leave this place.”

“I c-can walk,” she said.

He doubted it, but that was his intrepid Maura, never admitting to any weakness. “There's no need, sweet. I'll take you to my horse and we'll ride Glencoe to our own camp.”

While Lachann and the lads searched the Sassenach camp for Kildary's ransom money, Dugan and Maura rode back to Loch Aveboyne. He felt relieved to know he would soon have enough money to pay Argyll, though 'twould not be enough to buy the land.

It did not matter. The MacMillans would be spared from eviction, at least. And Maura—his life, his love—was safe.

D
ugan and his men stripped down and washed off the blood and sweat of battle in the loch, then quickly made their beds and settled down to sleep.

But sleep evaded Maura. She lay cradled in Dugan's arms, her body aching, her lip stinging where Kildary had split it, and her head throbbing. But at least she was warm again.

She was glad to be alive, glad to be lying in the arms of the man she loved with her whole heart and soul.

She kissed him lightly. “You are the Glencoe lad, just as Sorcha told me.”

“
What?
” He pulled back to look at her in the faint starlight.

“The old witch I spoke of,” she said quietly. “She told me the Glencoe lad had become a fierce warrior.”

He lay quietly beside her for a moment. “There was an old soothsayer called Sorcha at Glencoe,” he said. “Laird MacIain did not heed her warnings.”

“He likely did not understand them,” Maura said. “She spoke in riddles to me. Only now do I have any grasp of what she was telling me.”

“Aye?”

“Yes. That I would need an ally to find the treasure.”

“My grandfather told me the same thing.”

“He did?” Maura asked.

Dugan nodded slightly. “And yet . . .”

“No gold,” Maura said, and Dugan hugged her close.