The Taming of a Scottish Princess

  Jane’s eyes blazed, and she turned to Michael. “I will only be a moment.”

  He gave her a brief nod. “I’m right behind you. I’m just going to find a dry shirt and coat.” He turned to Ammon. “Keep your horse. You’re coming with us.”

  “Yes, sir. I shall walk the horses while you change.”

  “Thank you. We’ll need the excavation supplies, a shovel, and the like.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And ready the pistols.”

  The servant touched his waist, a smile on his dark face. “They’re already loaded.”

  Michael nodded and went to change.

  The boat churned on the loch’s blue waters before it landed on the island with a thud, the shadow of MacLeod’s Tower blocking the sun for a moment.

  Jane gathered her skirts, hopped out, and then grabbed the rope and looped it over a nearby stump.

  Michael climbed out and looked back at the Barra shore where Ammon waited with the horses. The servant lifted his arm in acknowledgment.

  By the time Michael turned around, Jane was already searching the ground around the bottom of the tower.

  Michael joined her. “What are we looking for?”

  “It’s not quite a pile of rocks.”

  “‘Not quite’? What does that mean?”

  She gave him a fleeting smile. “It means that there are rocks, but over time, grass has grown over them.”

  “Ah. We’re looking for a mound.”

  “Exactly, but a knobby one, since the rocks are roughly placed. It’s here somewhere, but I don’t remember which side of the tower it was on.”

  “It’s a small island; we’ll find it.”

  Moments later, pausing in his search, Michael looked up at the tower. It appeared older than Kisimul and was a different sort of fortification. It wasn’t meant to be inhabited but was a watchtower where a guard or two would reside, keeping an eye toward the surrounding countryside, and then give an alarm if intruders came. As such, the tower was narrow, though tall, and consisted of three small rooms stacked one upon the other. “This must have been built to fight off the Vikings.”

  Jane followed his gaze, the wind stirring her skirts and carrying the faint scent of lavender as it tugged at her freshly pinned hair. Except for a few scrapes on her knuckles, she looked none the worse for wear. “The people of Barra made a valiant effort to resist the Vikings, but they were badly outnumbered and outweaponed. However, do note that the runes we found in the cave were carved alongside a cross. Though the Vikings conquered Barra on the field, the island charmed them, and they adopted many of Barra’s ways, including her religion.”

  “So it became a blending.”

  “Yes, though at a great cost. Many lives were lost, for the Vikings didn’t take the Hebrides one at a time, but rather swooped in with a huge number of ships and warriors and stormed the entire string of islands at once. Thus no one could get provisions or assistance from another isle and some communities had to choose between being starved out of existence or capitulating.”

  He placed his hand upon the sturdy tower and looked about the small island. “When I first saw this tower, I thought this an odd place for it, far from the shore, but it’s actually in the perfect location. It’s high enough that a watch stationed on the top floor could see every side of the isle and light a fire to indicate an attack well before any foreign ships could dock.”

  “It’s also hidden. No one would think to look for a tower such as this in the center of the land and not upon the coast.” Pride warmed her voice. “Barra’s people are very resourceful.”

  “So I’ve noticed. There’s a—” His gaze locked on an unusual shape to the ground just past Jane. “Is that the grave?” The mound wasn’t by the tower at all but to one corner of the island partially hidden by tall grasses.

  “That’s it!” Her voice rose in excitement as she hurried toward it. “I thought it was beside the tower, but then I was very young when I used to play here.”

  “You were close enough.” He followed her to the mound. It had probably been a large pile of rocks at one time, but as with most relics, bits and pieces of it had disappeared over the years.

  “Here’s where the gravestone must have been.” He pointed to an indentation that was visible only close up. “It must have been huge.”

  “I can’t believe someone stole it,” Jane said in a disapproving voice that made him smile.

  “I once saw a Roman column worked into a fourteenth-century church as a cornerstone. New civilizations are quick to dismantle old ones. For all we know, that gravestone is now a part of someone’s barn.”

  She shuddered. “That makes me ill to even think about.”

  “Me, too.” He began a close examination of the mound. “It doesn’t look as if anyone has disturbed it recently.”

  “Thank goodness! We’re in time after all.”

  “Perhaps.” He wiped his hands on his breeches, his heart pounding. The amulet was close; he could feel it. He’d waited so long for this moment that he couldn’t quite grasp it. The Hurst Amulet will soon be back where it rightfully belongs. “I’ll get the shovel.”

  Trying to contain his excitement, he brought the shovel from the boat and then reached down to remove some of the grass. “I don’t want to dig in a way that could ruin any artifacts that might be with the amulet. Should I begin on the north side, where the headstone was?”

  “That would be best. Here, I’ll help.” She began to pull out large handfuls of grass, clearing the area so he could dig, the scent of fresh grass tickling her nose.

  They were making good progress when Michael suddenly stopped.

  She looked up at him, the sun behind him obscuring his expression. “What is it?”

  He pointed to the ground at his feet. Someone had scraped away a large portion of grass and then replaced it.

  Her shoulders sank. “That’s fresh.”

  “Yes, damn it.” Michael took the shovel and scraped aside the grass, which she could now see had been scattered over the area, disguising the fresh digging from a casual glance. “Someone’s been here very recently. The grass is still green.” He bent down. “There’s the edge of a boot print here, too, and the wind’s barely had an impact on the loose soil.”

  “Can you tell the size of it?” she asked hopefully.

  “No, it’s just the edge.” He rocked back on his heels. “If the Hurst Amulet was ever here, it’s gone now.”

  The disappointment in Michael’s voice echoed inside her. She’d experienced so much loss herself of late: Kisimul was gone, her island uncared-for, her people left to their fate without a strong laird to watch over them, and now this . . . Michael’s long-sought-after amulet stolen shortly before they’d arrived.

  She looked at his bent head, fighting a desire to put her arms about him and hug him. So many things I tried to do have gone astray. I have to fix this, at least, and find some way to— Her gaze locked on the tower. “Hurst!”

  He lifted his head, his expression weary.

  “Come with me!” She hiked up her skirts and ran toward the tower.

  “What are you doing?”

  She could tell from the way his voice was approaching that he was following her. “Just come!” She ducked into the ruined tower, stepping over fallen stones until she stood in the middle of the small room, looking up. When Michael entered, she said, “David stole that amulet while we were at the inn, changing our clothing.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “When we were in the cave, he cut the line on the boat to delay us just so he’d have time to retrieve the amulet, which means he had to row to the mouth of the cave to sabotage our boat, and then row back.”

  Michael leaned on the shovel. “I’m not comfortable with you saying David’s our villain without more proof.”

  “Who else could it be?”

  “I’m not saying it wasn’t him. But it’s not good to make sweeping statements until we have evidence.”


  “Fine. I’ll try not to blame him until we find him with the amulet in his hands. But whoever stole our boat most likely also stole our maps.”

  “True.”

  “And that had to take extra time, so whoever they are, they can’t be far from here.”

  Michael nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense. So whoever they are, we’re right behind them.”

  “We just need to know which way they’re heading. If we can catch them before they leave the island, we can get the amulet back.” She pointed to the second floor of the tower over their heads. “Can you lift me? I’ll be able to see the whole island from there.”

  He eyed the broken floor above their heads. “That floor must be a hundred years old, if not more. It can’t be safe.”

  “Wood is brought to Barra by floating it from the mainland through the salt water, so it lasts longer than you might think. Besides, I’m just going to stand on the edges, near that window.” When he looked unconvinced, she added, “David’s only a few minutes ahead of us, so we have to at least try.”

  Michael’s jaw tightened. “I’m probably mad to agree to this, but fine; I’ll hoist you up. But you’re to take no chances. I’ve had enough frightful moments today.” He leaned the shovel against the wall, and then came and put his hands around her waist. With seemingly no effort he lifted her above his head. “Put your foot on my shoulder.”

  She did so and was soon climbing onto the half of the second floor that was left.

  “Be careful where you step.”

  “I will.” She made her way to the window. “I should be able to see from here . . .”

  Michael watched as she leaned out the window. “Can you see him?”

  “No, the trees are in the way.” She peered down at him. “I’m going to the third floor. I’ll be able to see the entire island from that height.”

  “You will do no such thing, blast you. Come down now.”

  “You, sir, possess a weak spirit.” Ignoring Michael’s sputter, Jane climbed to the third floor. She was careful not to look directly down, for it suddenly seemed as if the floor—and Michael—were far, far away.

  She made her way along the edges of the room and came to the south window, the rough-hewn stone cool under her fingers. The wind whistled loudly, drying her eyes. She squinted against it.

  “See anything?”

  “No.” She gritted her teeth and turned. “I’m going to the west side.”

  “Jane, no. Just come down now—”

  “I’m almost there.” She continued to walk along the edge of the rotted flooring, skipping whichever beams wiggled too much for her comfort, until she came to the next window.

  She looked out, scanning anxiously.

  Below, Michael crossed his arms. “Well?”

  Jane didn’t answer.

  “What is it, blast it?”

  “I can see our thief riding on the road to Eoligary House,” she said.

  He caught a note of something in her voice. “And?”

  “It’s not David; it’s Lindsee.” Jane’s face appeared in the opening overhead, her eyes wide. “Michael, there’s no one else to be seen. She’s the one who stole the Hurst Amulet.”

  CHAPTER 19

  From the diary of Michael Hurst:

  When one is on a quest for an artifact, it’s good practice to not get so fixated upon it that you ignore other, more valuable artifacts that you may find along the way. The object of one’s quest is not always the true prize.

  They pulled their horses to a halt on a small bluff across from Eoligary House. The house was aglow in early evening twilight, the windows glittering like stars.

  As they watched, a stable hand led a gray mare to the stables from the front door, as if the rider had just been escorted inside. To one side, a black gelding was tied to a ring, waiting the return of his rider.

  Jane frowned. “David’s here, too.” When Michael didn’t answer, she shot him a glance and found him regarding the gelding with a thoughtful look. “Aren’t you surprised?”

  “Everything surprises me about Barra,” he replied in a dry tone. “Ammon will stay here until we leave.”

  “Very well.” She hesitated, and then said, “Michael, whatever happens—whoever is at fault—we’ll get the Hurst Amulet back. I promise.”

  He smiled, his expression inscrutable. “I’m beginning to believe that the Hurst Amulet will be found when it wants to be, and not before. If we find it, we find it.”

  “And if not?”

  “Then it’ll be time for me to head off to my next adventure. Now come.” With a nudge, he set Ramses cantering toward the house, and she followed, wondering why he hadn’t said we.

  Jane wished that small omission didn’t bother her so, but it did. The last few weeks had changed their relationship in ways she’d never even imagined. For the first time since she’d accepted the position of Michael’s assistant, she was no longer certain of her place in his life, or even if he wanted her to be a part of it. It was all confusing, painful, and overwhelming.

  They reached the courtyard and Michael jumped down and handed Ramses’ reins to the waiting groom. Michael then turned to help Jane from her horse.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as he swung her into his arms.

  “Carrying you,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  She eyed Michael with a flat gaze. “Please put me down.”

  He carried her across the courtyard. “The cobblestones are puddled with water.”

  “It didn’t rain today.”

  “It did yesterday.”

  “I’m wearing boots.”

  He glanced at her boots, which were peeking out from her skirts. “Oh. So you are.”

  “I always wear boots. You know I always wear boots.”

  “You could have purchased a new pair of shoes.”

  “On Barra?”

  His lips twitched. “I can see I didn’t think that through very well.”

  His teasing was different now. He used to tease her by mocking her or saying outrageous things or not shaving—anything to prickle her temper. But now he tried to win smiles, and it twisted her heart to think that this, too, would disappear once they left Barra. Isolated, she had his sole attention. But when they returned to the mainland, how would they fare? Could she still be his efficient assistant even if he wished it?

  The more difficult question wasn’t really that at all . . . she knew she could perform her duties under any circumstances. The real question was whether she wanted to. Would it be enough to just be Hurst’s quiet, can-do assistant when she’d had such a rich taste of what it would be like to be more?

  It was so tempting to simply lean her cheek on his shoulder and ask him to keep going, to walk past the house and never look back, because once they had the amulet, their quest was over.

  He reached the steps and set her down, his hands lingering only slightly, due to the footmen standing under the portico. “There.” He nodded to one of the footmen, who opened the door of the great hall.

  Michael held out his arm. “Shall we?”

  She tucked her hand into place, wishing her heart didn’t ache so. “Of course.”

  Inside, Jane fixed a polite smile on her face and told the butler, “Mr. Hurst and Miss Smythe-Haughton to see Lord MacN—”

  Voices raised in anger erupted, and Jane glanced at Jaimie’s study, where the voices seemed to come from.

  The butler sent a startled glance in the same direction and then said in a rushed voice, “Verrah good, miss. If you’ll remove your coats, I’ll see you and Mr. Hurst to the small salon to wait—”

  A crash sounded.

  Every eye in the foyer was now fixed on the double doors.

  The butler began to sidle over, as if to cut them off from the study doors.

  That’s it. Jane whisked past him and walked toward the doors. “Thank you, but we’ll just join Lord MacNeil in his study.”

  The butler hurried to intercede, b
ut Michael reached the double doors first, his greatcoat obscuring the room as he threw the doors open. “No need to bother announcing us; we’ll do it ourselves.” He allowed Jane to slip past him and then shut the doors in the butler’s astonished face.

  Jane paused just inside the study and took a deep breath. Four people stood in the room. Elspeth was beside the fireplace, dressed in a purple gown that made her pale skin glow. She would have looked attractive except that her mouth was thin with fury, her arms crossed over her plump breasts. She looked as if she were only a spark away from blowing apart.

  Across from her stood David. Elegantly attired as ever, he leaned upon his cane and sneered. From the top of his silvered hair to his shiny black boots, he made Jaimie—who was standing behind his desk as if barricaded against a gale force wind—look like a mussed and sweaty farm laborer.

  Lindsee, wearing her fashionable blue velvet pelisse, stood in the shadows by the window Jane had climbed in earlier in the week. “You’re earlier than we expected.”

  Jane frowned at her friend. “You expected us?”

  Lindsee moved forward and the lamplight caught the dull glimmer of something in her hands—a small, dirty metal box about the size of a book.

  Jane’s eyes widened. “Is that the—” The word stuck in her throat. She and Michael had searched for the amulet for so long.

  Lindsee looked reverently at it. “Yes, this box holds the Hurst Amulet.”

  Jane was aware of Michael’s presence directly behind her, his body tense as if he were prepared to dive for the box.

  Jane wet her suddenly dry lips. “Then you’ve seen the amulet?”

  Lindsee nodded, her fingers curling over the metal as if to protect it. “Yes.”

  Jane frowned. “Lindsee . . . you cut the rope on the boat?”

  Lindsee’s gaze flickered to David.

  Jane turned to David.

  He bowed, a smirk on his face. “I had that pleasure.”

  “But . . .” Jane looked from David to Lindsee and then back. “I don’t understand. You two are helping one another?”