Highland Heart

Lindsey pleaded.

  The man they knew as Ian gave her a chilling smile.

  "What good would it do? They are only going to die any way. As are

  all of you."

  "Then kill us," Douglas said, "and spare us this torment."

  "Nay. Not yet. Not until it pleases me." The leader poured himself a

  tankard of ale and said to Argus, "Start a fire and prepare some

  food.

  This night is a celebration. I intend to savor it. "

  Soon a deer was butchered "and hung over a fire. While it slowly

  roasted, the men began to consume vast quantities of ale. The forest

  rang with the sound of their laughter.

  They feasted until their hunger was sated. And then, warm from the

  food and ale, the one called Ian approached Lindsey and bowed before

  her.

  "The time has come, my lady." His voice was a silken purr of

  pleasure.

  "I have waited a lifetime for this moment. And now I intend to take my

  revenge."

  "I do not understand," she said.

  "I do not know you."

  "Nay. But I know you. And you," he said, turning to include Douglas

  Gordon.

  "You are wrong. I would remember you, had we met before," the older

  man replied.

  Ian sat on a fallen log and crossed his leg, staring for a moment at

  the toe of his boot. When he lifted his gaze, he fixed Douglas Gordon

  with a look of pure hatred.

  "My given name is indeed Ian. But my clan is not MacPherson. I wager

  you remember my father." He paused for just a moment before saying

  softly, "Neville Sinclair." Douglas gasped. The night had turned

  eerily quiet.

  "Neville Sinclair." Douglas Gordon spat the name like a curse.

  "He broke all the laws of warfare.

  Instead of fighting me like a man, he stole away with my only daughter

  and tried to violate her. "

  "And you killed him," Ian said softly.

  "Aye. I killed him. Any man would have done the same.

  He caused my daughter to suffer for a lifetime because of his cruelty.

  "

  "Do you recall his son who begged you to kill him also?"

  Douglas stared at the man a moment, seeing in his mind's eye the

  terrible battle that ensued after Lindsey's leap to the courtyard.

  Then he shook his head.

  "Nay. I recall no lad. I barely recall killing Neville Sinclair. I

  remember only the way my little daughter looked, lying in a pool of her

  own blood, like a small broken bird."

  "I came into the room," Ian said, "and fell weeping across my father's

  body. And I begged you to run me through with your sword so that I

  could be with my father."

  Douglas blinked, remembering the scene he had blocked for all these

  years from his memory.

  "Aye. I do recall." His voice lowered.

  "I spared your life and told you that the only way you could ever be

  with your father was to lead a wicked life. I warned you not to follow

  in his ways or you would one day join him in the fires of hell."

  "Aye." Ian's eyes glinted with a dangerous light, and Lindsey shivered

  at the evil she could read in their depths.

  "Remember well your words, old man. This night, I intend to make you

  suffer as I have suffered all' these years without my father."

  His hands closed over Lindsey's upper arms, lifting her to her feet.

  Drawing a dirk from his waistband, he held it up so that the blade

  reflected the dancing light of the fire. But instead of placing it o

  her throat, he cut through the ropes that bound her.

  "Before you die, Douglas Gordon, you will beg me to kill you as I once

  begged you. And I will show you the same mercy. You will be forced to

  live with all your pain." He smiled, a cruel, dangerous smile.

  "You will first see your daughter ravaged by me and my men. And then

  you will see your sons die before your eyes. And only then will you be

  allowed to join them."

  "I beg you, take my life and spare my children," Doug las cried.

  "Ah. Already you beg." He turned to his men with a triumphant laugh,

  and then his voice changed to the deadly whisper that Lindsey had heard

  before.

  "It is time to sample the lady's charms."

  Lindsey's eyes went wide at the sound of that terrifying whisper.

  "It was you who spirited me away from my father's camp."

  "Aye, my lady. And this time I will not fail in my plans for

  revenge."

  As he pushed Lindsey in front of him toward the fire a tall figure

  stepped into his line of vision. There was no mistaking Jamie

  MacDonald. In his hand glinted the jeweled hilt of a sword.

  "Release the woman," Jamie commanded.

  For a moment Ian froze. Then, seeing no other figures emerge from the

  woods, he threw back his head and laughed.

  "You are alone and you think to fight all of us?"

  "Aye." Jamie's eyes narrowed as he studied the lass in Ian's arms. He

  had heard and seen enough to know that this man was capable of doing

  all that he had threatened.

  "And a hundred more, if need be. Release the woman."

  At the fire in Jamie's eyes, Ian's smile faded. Until this moment, he

  had not really understood the fervor that drove the Heartless

  MacDonald.

  He motioned to his men.

  "Kill him."

  As the highwaymen drew their swords and advanced, they tasted the full

  force of Jamie's wrath. His anger was a terrible thing to behold as he

  leaped, thrust, danced, disarming all in his path.

  Alarmed, Ian tossed Lindsey to the ground and joined in the battle. As

  the sound of blade hitting blade echoed through the forest, Lindsey

  crawled to where her father and brothers lay and quickly cut through

  the ropes that bound them. When they were free they leaped into the

  fray, driving the villains back.

  When Ian realized that he and his men were being badly defeated, he

  looked around for an escape. At the edge of the clearing, Lindsey had

  taken up a sword to guard her two wounded brothers. Moving quickly,

  Ian crept up behind her and gave her arm a vicious twist until the

  weapon dropped harmlessly to the ground.

  As Murray and Donald struggled to their feet he hissed, "If anyone

  should follow me, I will slit the lass's throat."

  Her brothers were forced to watch helplessly as Ian dragged Lindsey

  into the forest. Ignoring the pain of their exertion, they gave a loud

  cry.

  Jamie heard their cry and from the corner of his eye saw the flash of

  color as Lindsey disappeared into a thicket. Without thought to his

  own safety he dodged the flashing blades and raced into the forest. A

  moment later he saw two shadows on the trail ahead of him. With a cry

  of rage he leaped forward, sword drawn.

  Ian whirled, drawing Lindsey in front-of him like a shield.

  "Unless you halt and drop your weapon, I will plunge my sword through

  the lady's heart."

  Jamie. had no doubt that this madman would do as he threatened. He

  remembered a time when he would have fearlessly acted to disarm such a

  villain without regard to the consequences.

  But that was before" Lindsey. He
felt the river of sweat between his

  shoulder blades. Fear. But not for himself. His life would mean

  nothing without Lindsey. For her sake, he must play by the villain's

  rules.

  He tossed his sword to the ground and saw Lindsey's eyes widen with

  fear. Ian's lips curved into a smile.

  "Who would have thought

  the Heartless MacDonald would surrender so easily9" He brandished his

  sword.

  "Now kneel before me."

  Jamie knelt in the damp earth, all the while gauging the distance

  between himself and Ian. If he were to charge quickly, he would take

  the blade meant for Lindsey. And if he could stay conscious long

  enough to put up a fight, she would be able to make her way back to her

  father and brothers. His life would be little enough to pay to save

  hers.

  Ian read the fire in Jamie's eyes and sneered.

  "Do not try it, MacDonald. My aim is true. My blade will find your

  heart with the first thrust."

  "It does not matter," Jamie said, preparing himself for the leap.

  "Nothing matters now except that the lady be free of your curse

  forever," In the blink of an eye Lindsey saw him get to his feet.

  "Nay, Jamie," she cried.

  Then she saw a snarling, silvery shadow leap from the floor of the

  forest and launch itself toward Ian's uplifted sword.

  "Wolf," she cried in alarm, as she saw Ian's sword slice through the

  hound.

  The distraction gave Jamie the moment he needed to take up his sword

  and attack. Within minutes, Ian lay dead. Jamie turned to find

  Lindsey kneeling in the dirt, with Wolf's head cradled in her lap.

  Tears streamed down her face as she watched-the blood stream from the

  great shaggy beast.

  Jamie knelt beside her and ran a hand over the matted fur. Rage

  churned through him. Must everyone and everything he loved be

  sacrificed?

  "Oh, Jamie. Praise heaven you came in time." Lindsey felt the first

  sting of tears as relief flooded through her.

  As she sought to comfort the gravely wounded hound, she whispered, "He

  finally came close enough to let me touch him. But the price was too

  high. He willingly gave his life for mine, as you were about to do."

  Jamie's rage boiled over. He could not bear to look at the pain in

  her eyes. Nor would he risk the loss of any more of his loved ones.

  Giving no thought to Lindsey's father and brothers who gathered around

  them, he grasped Lindsey by the arms and hauled her roughly to her

  feet. His eyes narrowed as he studied her. He wanted nothing more

  than to hold her in his arms and keep her safe. But there was still so

  much to be done. And one pledged to the queen's safety could not

  afford the time to be tender.

  With fire blazing in his eyes he turned to the wounded lads, Murray and

  Donald.

  "Are you strong enough to ride to your father's fortress?"

  "Aye." Murray looked puzzled at the anger in Jamie's tone.

  "Then you will escort Lindsey there."

  Lindsey's eyes widened.

  "I will not..."

  The hands gripping her upper arms tightened their grasp until she cried

  out. His words were a low rasp of fury. He spoke each word with

  emphasis.

  "You will do as I order." Turning to her father he added, "I will

  brook no arguments, Douglas. I want the lass returned to your fortress

  at once."

  Lindsey bristled. Every curse she had ever learned rushed to her

  lips.

  "I will not have this son of a viper order me about like a servant. I

  would rather..."

  Douglas lifted a hand to still her tirade. Turning to Jamie with a

  solemn nod he said, "It will be as you say."

  With a look of disbelief Lindsey' sgaze went from Jamie to her father,

  then back to Jamie's implacable look.

  "You go too far, my lord?I will never forgive you." Jamie turned on

  his heel and strode away.

  For long minutes she stared after him, battling a tangle of jumbled

  emotions. At last she swung away. To her brothers she directed,

  "Bring the hound."

  "He is beyond saving," Donald said as gently as possible.

  She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She would not cry over

  Jamie MacDonald. He was unworthy of her tears. Her look of

  determination matched Jamie's.

  "Bring him."

  As she bid her father and young brothers goodbye, Jamie stood alone,

  his face a grim, unreadable mask.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  "Majesty. Look."

  Lord Desmond Frazer pointed. Beside him, the queen stared in

  astonishment at the sight of hundreds of High landers gathering on the

  far bank of the loch.

  Within the hour, Jamie MacDonald and the Gordons had been ferried

  across and stood before their queen.

  "We are here, Majesty, to return you, in triumph, to Holyroodhouse,"

  Jamie announced, bowing low over her hand.

  "Oh, Jamie, my friend. You are as good as your word."

  "As are the Gordons, Majesty. It was Douglas Gordon who summoned the

  lairds."

  "And it was' Jamie eloquent words that persuaded them to leave their

  homes and follow him," Douglas said.

  "Then my gratitude to both of you," Mary said.

  "I rejoiced when your messengep arrived, assuring me that all were

  safe. My husband," she said, glancing at Lord Darn ley who stood

  meekly beside her, "has revealed the names of all the lairds who

  plotted against me. Already many have fled the country. The rest,

  including Ruthven, lie dead."

  Jamie felt relieved-that the men who had attacked Brice Campbell were

  finally punished for their crimes.

  "And now with your army," Mary continued with a note of happiness, "our

  success is assured."

  With pride Neal led the queen's horse from the stable and assisted her

  into the saddle.

  "Where is your sister?" Mary asked as she accepted his hand.

  "Jamie sent her home, Majesty. Along with Murray and Donald, who were

  wounded by the highwaymen."

  "I would wager she did not go willingly."

  "Nay, Majesty. There were words between them."

  The queen glanced at Jamie. That would explain his hag gard

  appearance. Love, she thought with a sigh, was never easy.

  "We ride to Edinburgh," she called in a loud, clear voice.

  The men cheered.

  "But first, my friends, there is a most important stop we must make

  along the way. Jamie, I would send a rider ahead with a message."

  "Aye, Majesty." He summoned a rider from among the Highlanders, and

  waited while the queen prepared several long missives.

  As she handed over the scrolls, Jamie saw the light in her eyes, and

  suddenly knew. The queen would stop first at Kinloch House. And see

  for herself if Brice Campbell, the Highland Barbarian, had survived.

  As their horses' hooves ate up the miles, Jamie's thoughts grew

  pensive. It seemed so long since he had been home. And when he had

  left, Brice had been hovering near death.

  Throughout this long adventure he had adamantly're fused to allow

  himself to think
the worst. Brice was a strong man who had been

  wounded many times before. Always he had regained his strength. But

  this time, the wounds had been brutal. And Brice was no longer the

  young, carefree lad he had once been. Nor, Jamie thought gloomily, was

  he.

  Strange how one adventure could change a man's life forever. He felt

  so much older and more battered than when he had left Kinloch on that

  bitter morning. But no wiser.

  As they topped a rise, Jamie caught sight of Kinloch House in the

  distance. As always, his heartbeat quickened at the view. He felt as

  he had that first time he had seen it as a terrified orphan, carried in

  the arms of a rough High lander. The magnificent structure sprawled

  between two towering peaks.

  Their hoofbeats thundered as hundreds of Highlanders assembled in the

  courtyard of Kinloch House. The doors were thrown wide and those

  assembled inside spilled forth to greet their monarch.

  Jamie stood at attention on one side of Mary, with Doug las on the

  other. They watched as Meredith, Brice's beautiful wife, curtsied

  before the queen and presented her hairns.

  "Tell me of Brice," Mary said softly, gripping Jamie's arm for support

  as she waited for words.

  Meredith's eyes filled with tears, and for a moment Jamie felt his

  heart stop. Then he realized that hers were tears of joy.

  "He lives, Majesty. And already he is well enough to make us all

  miserable with his demands."

  The queen pressed a hand to her heart and felt her own eyes fill.

  "Praise heaven. I would see him."

  "At once, Majesty. But first, my sisters wait to greet you."

  Mary patiently greeted Brenna and her English husband, Morgan Grey, and

  the youngest sister, Megan, and her Irish husband, Kieran O'Mara, and

  dutifully placed her hand upon all their hairns' heads. Then, her

  patience wearing thin, Mary insisted upon being taken to see her

  beloved barbarian.

  As they climbed the stairs, Jamie thought about all the battles that

  had been waged within these walls. And all the love and laughter this

  old fortress had witnessed. Now an other generation of hairns laughed

  and cried and played through the rooms.

  They entered Brice's chambers and Jamie watched as, across the room,

  Brice was helped to his feet by two of his men. He made a gallant bow

  before the queen rushed for ward and fell into his outstretched arms.

  And for the first time that Jamie could recall, his queen burst into

  tears.

  "There now," Brice murmured.

  "Am I such an old weak man that you must weep for my wounds? Has Mer

  edith not told you that I am healing nicely?"

  "Aye," she cried through her tears.

  "It is my condition. I find I cry easily these days."

  "Ah." Brice drew her close for another embrace. Over her head he

  winked at Jamie. All women seem to cry more easily when they are with

  child. I well remember Meredith's tears before our last hairn was

  born. "

  "It is a comfort to know that I am not the only one to behave in such a

  strange fashion." Mary wiped her tears and forced a smile to her lips.

  Sniffling she asked, "Are you well enough to sup with me before I leave

  for Edin burgh?"

  "I would not miss it. Meredith has planned a grand banquet He gave her

  a mysterious smile.

  "We received your message. All is in readiness."

  Her smile brightened.

  "Then I will refresh myself from the rigors of our journey and prepare

  for the feast."

  Mary followed Meredith from the room, leaving Jamie alone with Brice.