Highlander's Betrayed Princess (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance) Page 10

  “I am here tae see Mistress Eilidh Mackie,” Iain answered politely. “Will ye be sae kind as tae tell her I am here? My name is Iain Jamieson.”

  “Does she knaw ye’re comin’?” the guard asked suspiciously.

  “Naw, but she will see me,” he assured the little man. He opened his mouth to answer but was rudely shoved aside as the last person Iain wanted to see at that moment shouldered his way between the two men.

  “Well, well, well!” Dugald drawled sarcastically as he watched Iain dismount from his horse, ready for a fight. “Look who it is—Iain Jamieson, betrayer o’ women! Ye’ve got a bloody cheek comin’ here, ya coward!”

  Both of them bore battle scars from their previous confrontation, and they glared at each other with the ferocity of two rutting stags.

  Iain stood with his arms akimbo, his legs wide apart to make himself look as big and intimidating as he could. He was a big strong man, but he had not had Dugald’s military training, and it had not occurred to him that he had just exposed his entire body to a frontal attack.

  “I wid like tae see Eilidh,” Iain stated aggressively. “An’ I wid like ye tae let me pass. If ye please.”

  “Have ye come tae apologize?” Dugald asked, his tone lofty and condescending.

  “Nane o’ your affair!” Iain barked. “Let me see her!”

  He was unprepared for what happened next. Dugald moved so fast that Iain barely saw him coming, but the next moment he was staggering backward trying to catch his breath as a hammer blow from Dugald’s fist caught him in the pit of his stomach. He grunted with pain and would have fallen if one of the guards behind him had not caught him.

  Not wanting to show his pain, Iain straightened up again and hid his pain with an enormous effort of will. He faced Dugald squarely, then took a step up to him so that they were nose to nose.

  “You will pay for that,” he said to Dugald, and his voice throbbed with anger.

  Dugald flapped a hand at him contemptuously. “Come back an’ tell me that anither time, pal, when ye’ve learned how tae fight. I’ve got better things tae dae than bandy words wi’ you!”

  He turned away, and just at that moment Malvina came downstairs and strode over to them. Iain was astonished by her resemblance to Eilidh. She was a little older and and her hair was graying but otherwise she could have been her sister.

  “What is going on here?” she demanded, frowning. She saw Iain standing clutching his stomach and pinned him with a fierce gaze. “Who the hell are you?” Her voice was scathing but there was a glint of doubt in her blue eyes. Could this be the man who had betrayed Eilidh?

  Iain bowed to Lady Mackie but his expression remained serious. His heart was beating wildly but he stood his ground as he held her gaze steadily.

  “I am Iain Jamieson, Milady,” he replied. “I escorted Eilidh for a short while.”

  “And why have you come here?” She looked him up and down from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, then back again, and Iain felt naked.

  “I wid like to see yer daughter,” he said politely.

  Eilidh is right, Malvina thought. He does look like a god! She ran her eyes over his dusty traveling clothes and thought, A very dirty one!

  “Eilidh has told me about you,” she said evenly. “She says that she met you on the road, and she completely fell under your spell, but you did not molest her. You must be here for the rest of the reward. I will give it to you right away. Then you will be gone.”

  “She is tellin’ the truth, Milady,” he replied firmly. “I wid never dishonor a woman, an’ if Eilidh fell under my spell, I fell under hers an’ a’. She is a beautiful, kind an’ generous woman. I did not betray her an—”

  “I do not wish to discuss this under the noses of the guards. Come with me.”

  Iain followed her into the castle, gazing around him as they walked. Dugald was walking a respectful distance behind them, just waiting for the chance to pounce on Iain again. However, when he was about to follow them into the parlor, Malvina turned and put a hand on his chest.

  “Wait in the entrance hall, Dugald,” she instructed firmly.

  He looked annoyed. “But Milady, whit if he—” he began, but she cut him off, holding up her hand.

  “Tries to molest me?” she asked. She gave a grim little smile. “If he does that he will not get out of the castle alive, Dugald. So give yourself peace.”

  Dugald gave Iain a threatening scowl and left in a very bad humor, stamping out and banging the door behind him.

  “Sit,” Malvina instructed, as if to a dog. Iain sat down in a padded armchair and Malvina sat in one opposite him. She carried on staring at him in the unsettling way she had.

  Malvina was a small woman, but her concentrated glare was quite intimidating. However, Iain did not break their eye contact, and at last she stood up again and poured herself a glass of wine. She did not offer him any, perhaps because he was a commoner, or because she thought he was an opportunist; he could not tell.

  “The reward is one hundred more pounds,” she said bluntly.

  Iain was stung. “Naw, Milady.” He was indignant. “I am no’ interested in ony rewards. I wanted tae right a wrong that wis done tae me, tae baith o’ us. Eilidh thinks I betrayed her.”

  “How is that wrong?” Malvina asked suspiciously. “The reward was promised to anyone who found Eilidh or gave us information about where she was. If you found her, how can sending her back to the bosom of her family be a betrayal?”

  Iain shook his head in exasperation. “Because she didnae want tae come back, Milady!” he explained desperately. “For why dae ye think she ran away in the first place? She didnae want tae marry the man ye picked for her!”

  Malvina, in between sipping her wine, was giving him the concentrated stare again.

  “So you are saying that you did not give her away?” Malvina asked. “Then who did? Because Dugald said that he found her by himself, so he received the reward.”

  “Then Dugald is a liar,” Iain growled. “The person who should have received it wis Jean McBain, landlady o’ the Swan Inn. Dugald an’ his men ran out withoot givin’ her the reward.”

  “I see.” Malvina sat back in her chair, narrowing her eyes at him. “Dugald has been in our service for a very long time and if he says he found her then I believe him.” That was a lie. But she wanted Iain to leave. If Eilidh saw him everything would change.

  Iain sighed and shrugged. “Well, Milady, if that is your belief I am no’ gaunnae argue wi’ ye.”

  Malvina continued to gaze at him, then she rang a bell for a maid to call Dugald in. He came so fast that he must have been waiting for a summons, and stood upright in front of his mistress, the picture of righteousness.

  “Dugald,” she began, “did you find Eilidh by yourself?”

  “Aye, Milady!” he replied. “She wis drinkin’ ale in the tavern. I knew her straight awa’ even wi’ the funny hair She wisnae glad tae see me but she knew the game wis up.” He looked calm but his heart was thumping. He was lying through his teeth and Iain knew it.

  “You are lyin’,” Iain growled, “an’ ye knaw ye are. Jean McBain gave ye that tip aff.”

  He stood up, and the two men glared at each other. Fearing open warfare, Malvina sent Dugald out. “And do not slam the door this time!” she ordered.

  She finished her wine, then poured Iain a tankard of ale. “If indeed you have come to claim the reward money,” she said thoughtfully, “I will give it to you, even though I believe Dugald when he said he found her. I want to see Eilidh married to Laird McClure soon, and I want you to go away. You can do what you like with the money, even give it to this Jean McBain if you believe she deserves it.” She continued her little game. One hundred pounds was a lot of money.

  “I want nae money!” Iain replied. He was trying to constrain himself. “ A’ I want is tae see Eilidh, tae tell her that I didnae betray her, an’ tae tell her that I love her.”

  “You have only known her for days
!” Malvina said scathingly. “That is not enough time to fall in love!”

  “I assure ye, Milady,” he replied. “It is.” He gave a deep sigh. “Milady, a’ I want is tae tell her how much I love her, then I will go away an’ never bother ye again. I dinnae want silver. I want naethin’else but tae see Eilidh jist ance.” He steepled his hands together as if in prayer.

  Looking at him entreating her to help him, she felt great pity for him but forced herself to harden her heart.

  “I am going to speak to my husband,” she said, standing up. “In the meantime, you can wait in the dungeon.”

  Iain was shocked, but he managed to retain his dignity. “So this is the kind o’ family Eilidh comes fae,” he said scathingly. “Very well, Milady, I cannae fight ye. I will go tae the dungeon an’ stay there till ye let me oot. This is yer castle an’ I dare say ye can dae whit ye like in it.”

  Malvina summoned Dugald again. He gave Iain an evil, triumphant smile, then took him roughly by the arm and dragged him out of the parlor.

  “Noo ye will see oor best accommodation!” Dugald said smugly. “A wee bit on the cauld side but nae bother tae a strappin’ lad like you!”

  Iain said nothing.

  Fearchar and Malvina were standing on one of the topmost towers looking out at the distant hills and discussing the situation between Iain and Eilidh. Malvina was very troubled, and her lovely face was creased in a worried frown.

  “He is a very handsome man,” she remarked. “I can see why a young impressionable girl might think she was in love with him.”

  “It has only been a few days,” Fearchar replied soothingly, putting an arm around her shoulders. “You are probably making too much of it, my love.”

  “No,” she said firmly. “You did not see his face when he was talking about her.”

  “This man will not marry my daughter. God be my witness. That will never happen while I am alive. And I do not want her to know that he is here. She might want to see him. But I cannot kill him either. At least that will not be my first choice.” Fearchar stood, lost in thought for a moment, then he smiled. “I have an idea,” he said, smiling down at his wife.

  “What kind of idea?” she asked, puzzled.

  “He wants to see my daughter,” he said with great firmness. “But only because he thinks she wants to see him too.”

  15

  Iain had never been so miserable in his life. All he could think about as he sat on his scratchy straw mattress, then leaned against the cold granite walls of the dungeon, was that Eilidh was nearby. But he could not see, hear, or touch her. He would sell his soul if he could only see her face one more time.

  He wondered what she looked like now. No doubt they would have washed the red out of her hair and she would be as fair as she had told him she was. He felt an almost physical ache of need, and it was not a need for Eilidh’s body, although that was part of it because it was part of her, but for her humor, her kindness, her intelligence—everything that made her who she was.

  Presently, to his surprise, the Laird and Lady came in and walked straight up to his cell. Iain stood up, but not out of respect. It was because he was taller than Fearchar and wanted the advantage of height.

  “Iain, is it?” the Laird said loftily, with a tight smile.

  Iain nodded. “It is,” he replied, without addressing Fearchar with his title.

  Fearchar was about to reprimand him but Malvina gave her husband a tiny dig in the ribs with her elbow. She was a practical woman, and did not want to waste time. Fearchar cleared his throat awkwardly but said nothing about the slight.

  “We spoke to Eilidh,” Malvina told him. “And she was very upset. She does not care for you at all. She used you for protection to fetch and carry her meals and let other men think she was a married woman. She says that you touched her inappropriately and tried to rape her, but at the last minute spared her, but she said you performed lewd acts in front of her and locked her in her room.”

  For a moment, Iain was speechless. He could not believe Eilidh had said all these dreadful things, then his anger conquered his silence. “If that is the case, Milady, then why did she tell ye I didnae molest her the first time she spoke tae ye?” he demanded. “An’ why did she say she loved me?”

  “Because she was scared,” Fearchar answered. “Scared that we would think less of her, but we do not. My wife and I do not know you, however, and neither do we want to. Nevertheless, we will give you the reward money and let you go before I am tempted to call the guards to teach you a lesson. Here.” He handed Iain a pouch with money. “It is one hundred pounds. Go, and if I ever see your face again I will have you left in the dungeon till the rats eat you alive!”

  For another moment Iain stood glaring at both of them, then he snatched the pouch from Fearchar’s hands and strode out of the way, practically knocking him down.

  He took the stairs two at a time and barged past Dugald, who took one look at his face and decided to do nothing, then he collected his horse from the stable and rode away. He needed to put as much distance as he could between himself and Eilidh, but he soon discovered that no matter how far away he traveled, he could not outrun his broken heart. They would never allow him to see her. He knew that. They would probably beat him or kill him if he kept trying. He knew how the world worked. And the money in his pocket, combined with what he had, was enough to wed all of his sisters. He could see why her parents were ruling so many people. Excellent negotiators, resilient. They gave him a threat no man would want to face combined with a reward no man could resist. That was the perfect strategy.

  He tried to get Eilidh out of his mind. He could not imagine that he would never see her again. Everything reminded him of her: the fading remains of the heather that she had remarked on as they rode along, the tinkling peat-colored stream that had flowed along beside them most of the way, and the hawks flying above them looking for prey in the undergrowth.

  How he missed her! This time next week she would probably be married to a great fat bear of a man who would treat her like a piece of his property, and yet she had not wanted him, Iain Jamieson, a young strong man who could defend and protect her and give her healthy children. She did not care for him. He could not and would not believe it.

  He came to the part of the path that he had stopped at before, when his heart had been so full of hope, when he had been sure that he was going to see Eilidh again and make things right with her. He could not believe he was never going to meet her again, and that in a few days she would be in the arms of another man.

  He dismounted from his horse and took a drink from a small nearby river, then splashed some water over his face. He looked at his face in the water.

  I will not build my life on a lie.

  It was not who he was. He knew that many years in the future when his hair would be gray, if he lived to see that, he would regret taking the money. He would be a bitter old man. And he could not live with that.

  “And I cannae live withoot ye, Eilidh,” he said aloud, but his throat was almost closed with emotion and the words came out as a husky whisper. “I wid rather be deid.”

  He had not wept since his mother died, but now he threw himself on the heather face down and cried with great rending sobs until he had no tears left. He lay on the ground for a while, strangely light and empty of all feelings, then a smoldering burn of anger began inside him that turned into a raging inferno.

  He looked at the pouch of money, seeing it as a symbol of all that he had gone through in the last few days. He had bought his way out of the dungeon with it. It was not a reward, it was blood money, the blood of Eilidh’s maidenhead, and he could not keep it a moment longer. Even if he could not stop the wedding, he would die trying!

  Filled with new resolve, he mounted his horse again and rode back up the hill. He could see the bulk of the castle looming above him, but he had no fear.

  The rage inside him left no room for it.

  As luck would have it, the Laird was going
out just as Iain was coming in, and they met just on the end of the bridge over the moat. The two pikemen there immediately went on the alert, ready to defend their Laird.

  “Are you looking for trouble?” Laird Mackie asked angrily. “Or are you merely stupid?”

  “Neither, M’laird,” Iain answered calmly. “I wanted tae gie ye this back. I want naethin’ tae do wi’ yer money.” He held the pouch out but Fearchar avoided it as if he suspected some trick. Eventually Iain lost patience and threw the pouch at him, hitting him on his cheekbone. “Keep yer money!” he yelled. At once the two pikemen pulled him off his horse and tried to throw him onto the ground, but he leapt up again, jumped forward, and banged their heads together with an audible crack. They fell onto the ground without a sound and lay motionless.

  Iain looked up at Fearchar with a face that would have done justice to a demon, and the Laird spurred his horse into a canter and rode away out of range of the battle that was about to be joined. Four men, including Dugald, charged over the bridge and barrelled into Iain, but he had picked up the pike from one of the men on the ground and now began to swing it in great circles so that the men who had attacked him had to duck out of his way or be decapitated.

  Iain had had very little military training but he was fearsomely strong, and what he lacked in skill, he made up for with sheer aggression. There were two bodies on the ground already but it quickly became four as Iain chopped the legs from under one of them with his pike handle. Dugald’s sword just missed Iain; he ducked and heard it hissing over his head, then he tackled Dugald’s legs by throwing his arms around them and holding on so tightly that Dugald could not move. He tried to step forward but it was impossible. Dugald windmilled his arms for a moment trying to keep his balance, then he went down like a felled tree.

  However, in toppling Dugald, Iain had laid himself open to attack from the back, and one of the soldiers who was still conscious and standing picked up the other pike and swung it in a circle, striking Iain on the calf muscle and immobilizing him at once.