The Highlander's Lady (4 page)

He shrugged. Heather was the least of his problems. “’Haps she’ll settle in time.”

“As I hope ye will.”

“Spring.”

Mother nodded, then gave him a stern look.
“Will ye bring
Heather
home to Dunrobin afore ye set off for the Bruce?”

“Aye.” He agreed, even though it was completely out of his way. Dunrobin was a week’s travel north and the Bruce’s camp at Eilean Donan was that much to the west. He’d essentially be doubling his travel time, but nevertheless, if that was his mother’s price for supporting him, then he’d take it.

Daniel disengaged from his mother’s arms and excused himself. He had much to speak to his men about—they’d probably balk that he did not plan to bring any of them with him. No doubt, they’d wonder why, and he’d have to assure
the
m that this was nothing to do with their own skills, but with his need to seek out one last adventure. He frowned. They’d likely not understand that. Best to come up with
some other excuse
.

When he
spotted
his
second in command, Leo was leaning against the rails of
the horse ring watching a new stallion being broken.

“My laird.” Leo nodded.

“I’m to leave Blair for a time.”

“Where
will ye go, my laird
?”

Daniel did not miss the faint
, but noticeable
flash of irritation in Leo’s eyes. The man had been his father’s second in command and Daniel had not changed that when he took on duties as laird.
Perhaps he should have
reconsidered
.
For whatever reason, h
is father ingrained in everyone’s mind that Daniel was a failure. He wasn’t sure what prompted the constant reproach from his sire
. A
ll he knew was that it was never-ending.

“I’m going to help the Bruce and Wallace train
their men.”

“And why are ye leaving us behind? Are we of no use to the Bruce? Have ye no pride in your men?”

Ballocks!
Daniel had an idea the man would not be pleased, and when he put it that way, it certainly sounded much worse than it had in his own mind.
He’d have to bring them with him. Perhaps an opportunity to bond with the men and gain their respect as a leader.

“I didna say ye weren’t coming. Prepare a dozen
of our best
men. The rest stay behind to guard the castle. Blair is a strategic location Longshanks will surely want.”

Leo nodded, his eyes narrowed as if trying to assess him. Daniel frowned. “What are ye waiting for?
Snow?
” he growled.

His second in command whirled around and headed toward the
fields where the
men trained.

Maybe when he found a wife, he’d find a new second too. He needed a man he could trust, someone who would not second guess him at every turn. Even though he wasn’t happy about it, it probably was best if he took a few men with him, because despite it being winter, there was no telling whether or not he’d be attacked on the road. Plenty of outlaws roamed around, just waiting for a chance to strike. ’Twas a shame t
here were men starving and freezing
, or just plain evil
enough
,
to try and steal his cloak and supplies. A few men Daniel could fight off, but
when food was scarce,
outlaws tended to band together into small armies of their own.

Damn
… He should have spent more time listening to his father, paying attention.
Then maybe being laird wouldn’t seem so daunting. He would have been better prepared for the life he was born into, less apt to run away from the things he felt were to restricting. A wife. A family. A laird’s duties. All of it, made him imagine a noose tightening around his neck. If only he’d been a better study. But no.
Instead he’d been too interested in fighting, in making sure his sword gleamed and the point drew blood just from staring at it. He’d been too preoccupied with lifting every skirt that passed—as long as she was willing to engage in a carnal romp, he was game.
No wonder his father had always rolled his eyes and given a disgusted grunt when he’d come into the gre
at hall and seen Daniel dancing with lassies,
wrestling with his men or playing cards.

Daniel had always assumed his father was too stiff, didn’t like to
enjoy life
. But since the lairdship had been thrust upon his shoulders… Well, it wasn’t a fun responsibility. That was as much as he was willing to admit right now.

He’d make the most of this winter. Come spring
,
he was
resigning himself to
a lifetime of drudgery.

Glancing over the fence, he watched as the handler trained the horse. The stallion kicked, bucked, didn’t want to be tamed. Much like himself. He a
nd
the warhorse had a lot in common. Hands trying to tame their ways, make them fall in line.
So many people demanding they follow the rules, making them bend to the will of those who would see them take a certain path. It was all too much. Daniel couldn’t get away fast enough. He stared at the horse. Soon they would both relent, and be forever changed
.

He had the urge to whip open the gate and let the beast run free.
But i
f he had any chance of his people taking him seriously, that was not the right choice.

Daniel walked with heavy shoulders back to the keep to see about his cook prep
ar
ing several bags of supplies.
The sooner they left, the better.
They could hunt for fresh meat—but at this time of year most of the animals would be
hibernating or laying low in their warm dens
.
I
t made more sense to take as many provisions from the castle as they could spare, else they could starve before he reached his destination. If the weather had anything to do with it—they’d best hurry. 
Judging from the grey sky, snow would be coming soon.
The last thing he wanted was to
be stuck in a storm.
They needed to make considerable ground and seek shelter as soon as possible.
The ride would be slower with Heather in tow, but the quicker they dropped her at Dunrobin, the quicker he could be about his way.

Daniel’s
blood surged.
God’s teeth, he
loved a good adventure.

Chapter Three

M
yra
hid among the
pine
trees upon a rise and
watched as Rose approached Dunrobin Castle
across the flat valley below.
The cold wind whipped inside her cloak, numbing her skin.
Lord, please let her arrive safely
. She repeated her prayer a hundred times or more
until
the gates opened and Rose
disappeared within its depths.
Her sister-by-marriage
would be safe—and Myra wouldn’t have to worry about the Sutherlands insisting she remain with them.

Myra couldn’t allow for such. She had a promise to keep. A Scottish king to save. Even knowing Rose was safe didn’t cause her muscles to relax. If anything, she was even more on edge, for now she was all alone.

The loud grumbling of her
stomach remind
ed
her of how little food she’d consumed over the past
several
days, and how unlikely it was she’d get more before reaching her destination.
She had to keep reminding herself of her promise, or else she might run through the gates of Dunrobin and throw herself on the mercy of their cook. Instead she focused on
her journey
, ignoring her persistent stomach, and kept telling herself that once she was far enough away from Dunrobin, with no fear of the Sutherlands chasing her down, she would forage for mushrooms or nuts
if
she could find any. There wasn’t much else to be found. Winters in
Scotland
were harsh and what little could be foraged was most likely already gone.

Closing her eyes, she breathed in the crisp air. She was well and truly alone now.
Her head felt heavy. Filled with the weight of the tears she’d left unshed, the strain of being chief to a clan she’d never expected to inherit. The death of Byron…

Her eyes stung, but she willed away the tears. She’d already been through so much, she refused to give in to her
grief now.
Pulling the Munro ring from within her gown where she’d tied it on a leather strip, she kissed the onyx and then tucked it away.

“Come now, Coney.”

Her horse, which she’d name
d
for his color so much like a pinecone,
nickered
and obliged her turning him around.
His soft mane swayed in the gentle breeze, both of their breaths came out in puffs of steam. ’Twas cold. Frigid cold, and tonight she’d not have the warm body of Rose to sleep beside. Perhaps she’d sleep on the horse.

Getting
Coney
out of the stables, and the horse for Rose had been easier than she’d thought. No one, not even her own people
,
had been in the stables. The place
looked
deserted.
If it weren’t for the occasional shout or scream, she wouldn’t have known they were in the thick of an attack. Even still, she knew how lucky she was to have gotten away. They’d climbed onto the horses, leaving at a fast pace, so scared, they didn’t dare look back. Only when they were miles away from Foulis did she turn back. Black smoke billowed, curling and mixing with the low-hanging clouds. Fire. The bastards had set her home on fire. She prayed that some of the villagers and the servants had escaped. The devastation Ross had wreaked on her clan was unthinkable. Boiling rage burned within her. She would have revenge. Ross would not get away with this. Not as long as she was alive!

At the pace they’d had to take
with Rose’s condition
, it’d been
five
days since they escaped.
After their initial burst, t
heir horses had to maintain a slow pace, and frequent stops for Rose’s bladder had been unavoidable.
Myra was not capable of delivering a child in the wild, cold Highlands. She frequently checked to make sure Rose still held the bairn tight within her womb.
At least now, she’d be able to let her horse fly.

Byron must have been looking down on them, protecting them
along their journey
, for they did not run into any
trouble
, though
she’d had difficulty in hunting for them
. Af
ter spending hours fashioning a spear from a long
,
thick stick she found and
using
the dirk at her hip
, she’d finally killed a squirrel
.
Not an easy task, especially since she felt so out of practice. As a young girl she’d often hunted with her father. But after mother had been
abducted
… She
had
not been allowed to do so again.

The only supplies she’d been able to gather from inside the stables were a plaid blanket,
water skin
and
,
she was sorry for it, the rest of the horse master’s luncheon.
She’d given all the food to Rose and her
unborn
ba
irn
, and waited over a day before hunting to feed herself, else she faint and not be able to protect her sister-by-marriage and her brother’s heir.

Myra needed that bairn to be born. Needed it to be a boy. She couldn’t possibly take on the responsibilities of laird. Not now. Not when she felt so uncertain of herself. When she’d be made to marry all the sooner.
Sh
e’d murder t
he Ross before she married him.

And she might just murder him anyway for revenge.

She supposed it was utterly selfish to imagine a bairn taking away her burden. Were there any elders left? Surely some of them had escaped who could decide clan matters and train the bairn until he was ready to do so himself.

Myra
frowned and
stopped Coney a moment to assess her direction.
What was she thinking? She wasn’t that horrid of a woman to expect an innocent child to take on the duties with only the elders. She would have to
be
involved somehow. As much as she didn’t want to. Byron was dead. ’Twas her duty.
Enough of her time had been spent behind the walls watching By
r
on work on tasks, handle disputes. Myra could do it. And probably well. But she couldn’t think on that now.

She had to head south-west to get to Eilean Donan. A castle she’d never been to but heard much of i
ts beauty, mystique and defense. Situated in the middle of a loch she’d
been told. Surrounded by mist nearly all day and protected by fairies.

The Bruce was
there. H
arbored within the enemies own camp and he had no idea. She prayed she could make it in time before another tragedy struck. As it was, she would need
reinforcements
to come back to Foulis to reclaim her castle. After murdering everyone within, the Ross clan would surely claim
the lands
for themselves. And when they found Rose and Myra had disappeared, they would come looking.

Rose was safe. Nestled within Dunrobin with one of the fiercest warriors Myra had ever heard of.
Magnus Sutherland. Byron had trusted him and she would too.

Myra
, however, was not so safe.

Alone in the forest, winter upon them with only a makeshift spear and dirk to protect herself.

Zounds!
An
impossible task had been given to her.

Keeping her groan of frustration within, Myra gritted her teeth and pushed her horse forward. She needed to make haste. It would take her nearly a week to reach Eilean Donan, and success was
likely
not on her side.

Daniel glanced up as a haggard, overly pregnant woman was brought into Dunrobin’s great hall.

Daniel sat with
Magnus
and
Blane talking strategy.
His cousin
Ronan had alr
eady joined Wallace and his men—where Daniel wished to be.

“My God,” Magnus muttered under his breath as he stood to greet the woman.

Her fiery hair stood on end and her gown was torn and dirty. Her face smeared with grime, tears streaking down her cheeks. The woman looked ready to
collapse
.

“Are
ye Laird Sutherland?” she asked Magnus,
her weary eyes
darting guardedly
, her lower lip quivering.

“Aye.”

She glanced with unease at the rest of the men.

“Ye are safe. What is your name?”
Magnus said, walking toward her.

“
Lady
Rose
of Foulis.”

That got Daniel’s attention
and he too stood
. “I know Laird
Munro
.”
Munro was an ally of his. A damned good card player too. And he had a beautiful, clever
, fascinating,
younger sister who…completely despised him.

Rose burst into tears, her hands gripping her swollen belly and she swayed on her feet.

“What has happened?” Magnus’ wife, Arbella rushed into the great hall toward the woman
, taking her by the elbow
.

Lady
Munro
sank into the
equally
pregnant arms of Lady Sutherland.

“My husband… There was an attack. Everyone is dead.”

Daniel’s blood ran cold.
“Everyone?”

Rose nodded through sobs. “Except for Myra.”

“Myra?” Daniel asked, the
familiar
name
sending sparks through his veins.

“Aye. Byron’s sister. She brought me here.”

He recalled
well who Myra was
,
from several years before when he’d visited Foulis. She’d danced with abandon, laughed until tears came into her eyes, and then
simply vanished
. Daniel
had found her utterly charming, but obviously the feeling was not mutual. She’d told him she’d be back in a moment and he’d waited and waited… Daniel shook his head. Now was not the time to feel sorry for himself or try to figure out why the only woman who’d ever spurned him disliked him so much
—for if she hadn’t she would have come back to him
.

“Where is she?” he glanced behind
Lady Munro
, the doorway completely empty.

Rose shook her head. “She is gone.”

“Gone?” Magnus looked sharply at Daniel.

“Aye. She had to deliver a message for my
husband
.”

“To whom?”

Rose shook her head. “I dinna know. She wouldna tell me. Only that ’twas life or death. And death if she didna.”

That didn’t sound right. Myra could be in danger.
W
hile he had a few moments in her arms several years before, he knew not of her
mind
other than she lied to him
.
He didn’t know many women who could defend themselves, or keep themselves alive in the wild—especially a spoiled heiress
.
Lady Arbella and Lady Aliah were the only women he’d ever met who could hold their own.