Page 47 of Claimed Highland Brides

2

DEAD RECKONING

B arclay lifted his chin, glaring at his uncle. “I’ll leave the noo, but dinnae think this is the last ye’ve heard o’ me. I will be back. And if it’s a fight ye want, I’ll gi’ it t’ye.”

Suddenly, Peadar lunged at him, a sghian dhu in his hand. For a moment, Barclay froze, too shocked to react. Then he heard a piercing scream, and Angus was throwing himself at Barclay’s uncle. He was too far away to intercept the blow that was aimed at Barclay’s heart, but his scream got Barclay moving. He lifted his hand to block the blow, and the sghian dhu sliced right through his palm.

He shouted in shock even as he pushed at Peadar’s face with his other hand and then bent his elbow and hit him in the nose. His uncle stumbled backward, and Angus was on him like a rabid dog. Barclay leaped forward, landing on Peadar’s arm, the one that was clutching the sghian dhu.

Angus cold-cocked him as Barclay kicked the knife out of his hand. Peadar collapsed bonelessly on the wooden floor, his eyes shut. Barclay back away, making sure to kick the sghian dhu under the drinks cabinet before backing out of the room, his eyes never leaving the prone body on the floor. He gestured for Angus to precede him before closing the parlor door behind him.

He leaned against the door briefly, taking a deep breath. “Weel, I suppose that could ha’ gone better.”

Angus laughed. “Aye. Wha’ shall we do the noo?”

Barclay straightened up and began to walk at a fast clip. “First thing, we leave this place. I shall send a letter to my cousins at Drumacree to meet me at Braenaird Castle. If anyone can help me wi’ proof o’ my identity, it’s Murdo Douglass.”

* * *

Aileen ambled slowly down the darkened corridor, wondering what had become of everybody. She’d come back from her afternoon walk to find the keep abandoned. Not even the twins’ piping voices could be heard, nor the pitter-patter of their feet as they ran hither and thither, getting into trouble. Aileen smiled at the thought of them, reflecting on how much light they’d brought to all of their lives. The almost four-year-old twins added the kind of laughter and life to the keep that only children could. And now they had two more children to look forward to with two of her older sisters, Jamesina and Fiona, expecting.

She smoothed down her gown as a gust of wind blew against her slender frame, whipping her dark auburn flyaway hair into her eyes. She jerked her head, trying to get it away.

One of the guards at the gate came hurrying towards her. “Miss Aileen, there’s a man at th’ gate asking for yer faither.”

Aileen’s eyes widened. “Who is it?”

“Says ‘is name’s Barclay. That he kenned Lord Murdo.”

Aileen frowned. “Barclay, ye say?” She bit her lip, thinking. “Did he give ye his surname?”

“Aye. ’Tis MacFarland.”

Aileen gasped, hands flying up to palm her cheeks. “Nooo! Are ye certain? I havenae seen him since I was a wee bairn. I thought he went off to Spain to live wi’ his mother’s people.”

“Indeed, I did,” a deep baritone said from behind her, and she whirled around, eyes traveling up his tall frame to meet his. His dirty-blond hair, sweeping against his shoulders, was tousled, probably from riding. He stood proudly before her, impossibly wide shoulders obscuring her view of the shorter man who stood behind him. Her mouth dropped open.

“Barclay! Ye...got tall.”

He chuckled, voice low and rumbling. “Aye, weel, that happens when ye grow up. “

“Aye.” She looked him up and down. “Ye've done that too.”

He inclined his head to the side, studying her, his slate-grey eyes darkening with curiosity. “Which one are ye? Jamesina or Aileen?”

She laughed, head drooping shyly as she put a hand to her chest. “I’m Aileen.” Her eyelashes fluttered, and her cheeks warmed as she avoided his gaze.

“Aileen!” She risked looking up at him and saw that his face was lit up. “We used to play together as weans. I remember yer kindness after I lost my parents. Ye took care o’ me when I came to stay wi’ ye…after.”

Aileen shrugged. “It wasnae a hardship. I was glad tae do it.”

“Aye. Ye were always like tha’. I remember ye weel.”

Aileen didn’t know where to look. She swallowed hard. “Wha’ did ye want wi’ my da? Is it something I can help ye wi’?”

He frowned. “Is he no’ here?”

“My faither is deid, Barclay. He passed away four years past.”

He reached out and squeezed her arm. “I am sorry for yer loss. I didnae ken. Nobody sent word tae me.”

She shrugged. “Aye, weel. Death comes for all o’ us.”

Barclay nodded. “Tha’ is true. I dinnae suppose ye ken where he kept his documents?”

Aileen frowned. “Wha’ d’ye want wi’ them?”

“I am hoping he has some record o’ me. Some means for me to prove who I am in front o’ th’ courts. My uncle has hijacked my birthright and dares to call me an imposter.”

Aileen’s jaw dropped. “How dare he? And if I can recognize ye, I’m sure yer own uncle can.”

Barclay’s mouth twisted bitterly. “Aye, but if’n he acknowledges my rights, he will have to give over my property.”

“Is there no other man who can help ye?”

“None that I can think o’. I havenae been in Scotland for eleven years. Even then, we kept to ourselves. As ye ken, my faither didnae get on weel wi’ my grandsire.”

Aileen sighed. “Ye should at least rest for the night. Tomorrow we shall think o’ something.”

Barclay lifted an eyebrow. “Should ye no’ ask yer laird first?”

Aileen laughed. “It isnae as if Daividh would object.”

Barclay lifted an eyebrow in surprise. “And who exactly is Daividh?”

“He is Fiona’s husband and the new laird. I dinnae ken where everybody’s got to at the moment, but I can show ye and yer manservant to yer chambers. Ye can rest a while.”

Barclay smiled. “Ye always were very good at taking care o’ people. It’ll be better in the morning, no?”

Aileen took a deep breath, face warming. “Ye remember tha’.”

“Aye,” Barclay said softly. “I never forgot yer many kindnesses to a poor lonely boy.”

Aileen’s head dipped, and she turned quickly to hide her face. “Come wi’ me. I’ll show ye where to go.”

She began walking fast, as it again occurred to her to wonder where everybody had gone. She spotted one of the downstairs maids, hurrying along with a bucket in hand. Lifting a hand, she motioned the maid to stop awhile. “Where is the laird?”

“Och, they went oot to the Drumacree. ’Tis market day.”

Aileen frowned. “Wi’out me?”

“They searched for ye, but ye were nowhere to be found, and the day was a’wastin’ ma’am.”

Aileen pouted in annoyance. “I was oot in the gardens!”

The maid shrugged helplessly. Aileen sighed, shaking her head, and resumed her journey up the stairs, with Barclay and his manservant following quietly behind. She could feel his presence like a warmth along her back, even as she tried to shake off her awareness of him.

I cannot believe I forgot today was market day!

To be fair, nobody had mentioned it at breakfast, and she’d been distracted recently with a feeling of melancholy she could not shake. A lack of purpose to her days. Seeing both Fiona and Jamesina so happily settled with their spouses and how their faces glowed with happiness at the approaching birth of their children had made her wistful and maybe even envious. The twins had each other and were not in a hurry to break their duo apart. Aileen suspected they’d never be ready to do that. Whoever won their hearts would have to be ready to accommodate that relationship.

A wave of loneliness ran through her even as she knew it was ridiculous. Just because her sisters were moving on with their lives did not mean they were leaving her behind.

They left you behind today, a treacherous voice whispered in her head. She shook it off, focusing on her guest and his needs.

The guest chambers were kept in pristine shape as they tended to get many unexpected visitors from passing bards to noblemen hoping to break their journey, from country farmers on the way to market to friends and acquaintances visiting from afar. Her step was surefooted as she led him down the north wing and stopped at the door.

She turned and smiled at Barclay and Angus. “Here ye are. I shall have the maids send ye a bath and some refreshment. Someone will come to fetch ye just as soon as the rest of the family returns from Drumacree.”

He stretched out his hand, curling his fingers around her elbow. “I thank ‘e, Mistress Douglass.” He smiled, his eyes twinkling. Aileen’s eyes lit up in return as she thought back to the old days when they would play outside for hours, coming back to the keep covered in mud and other unidentified bits of nature to be scolded by one or both of their mothers. It was ridiculous that he should call her “mistress,” hence his impish grin.

“Ye’re welcome, Barclay. I’ll see ye at dinner.”

“Aye. See ye then.” She stepped back and let them retire to their room, feeling her face warm at the look in his eyes. She was not used to men looking at her, let alone seeing her. Their eyes tended to travel over her tall, thin frame to land on the more voluptuous curves of the twins.

She stumbled a bit, flustered as she hurried back down the hall, feeling his eyes like a target on her back.