Page 7 of Highland Heroine (Brides of the Highlands #3)

T he wind rustled through the thicket behind McAfee Keep as Moira patrolled, her red curls dancing in the brisk air. Her gaze swept over the familiar rugged landscape when a shadow emerged from a cluster of trees. Hand on her dirk, she narrowed her eyes.

“Lucas Gordon,” Moira said icily. “What brings ye here?” Lucas had caused Moira and Ailis a great deal of misery while they’d been at his father’s keep for the Highland Games.

Lucas raised his hands. “Moira, I come in peace. Clyde Stewart has gone mad and is pushing us toward a disastrous battle. I seek amnesty and a place among yer ranks.”

Doubt flickered across Moira’s face but she nodded, leading Lucas to the great hall where Alisdair McClain awaited. Lucas recounted the discord within the Stewart Clan and revealed an attack planned two days away.

Lachlan McClain scowled. “I dinnae trust him.”

Brodie weighed in, “Serpents can provide valuable information. We might use what he knows to our advantage.”

Alisdair considered this. “Speak, Lucas Gordon, and know that deceit will cost dearly.”

Tense silence filled the room as Lucas divulged the names of allied clans. The complex web of Highland alliances shifted constantly; one thing remained constant: determination to protect clan and kin at all costs.

After Lucas had finished speaking, Alisdair said, “Please wait outside this room while me brothers and I discuss whether ye can be trusted.”

Lachlan shook his head as soon as Lucas was out of earshot and the door was closed between them. “I dinnae trust the man. He needs to go back to where he came from.”

Alisdair frowned. “I think yer missing the greater picture in your distrust. It would be one more man fighting for us, and we may be able to get more information from him. Things he dinnae think to tell us.”

Brodie nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Aye, Alisdair has a point. If Lucas is telling the truth, we cannae afford to ignore the information he brings. The Stewarts’ plans could end us all.”

Lachlan’s scowl deepened. “And if he’s lying? Leading us into a trap? We’d be fools to trust him so easily.”

Brodie was the one who answered. “We dinnae have to trust him completely, but we can use what he knows. Keep him close, watch him carefully. If he proves false, we’ll deal with him then.”

Alisdair frowned, weighing their options. “Brodie is right. We’ll grant Lucas amnesty for now, but he’ll be under constant watch. We cannae risk the safety of our clans.”

He turned to Lachlan whose jaw was clenched, his eyes flashing with reluctance. “Aye, brother. We’ll do as ye say. But mark me words, I’ll be watching him like a hawk. One false move, and he’ll feel the bite of me blade.”

Alisdair nodded solemnly. “Understood, Lachlan. We must be vigilant.” He frowned. “I will have Moira watch our new guest. Her instincts are sharp, and she knows him better than most.”

Moira’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she inclined her head. “As ye wish, Alisdair. I’ll make sure he doesnae step out of line.”

With the decision made, Alisdair called for Lucas to be brought back in. The young man entered, his eyes darting between the brothers and Moira, trying to gauge their expressions. Alisdair stepped forward, his posture straight and imposing.

“Lucas Gordon, we have decided to grant ye amnesty…for now. But know this,” Alisdair’s voice grew stern, “ye will be under constant watch. Any hint of betrayal, and ye will face the consequences.”

Lucas bowed his head, relief and gratitude etched on his face. “Thank ye. I swear on me life, I will not betray yer trust.”

Lachlan scoffed under his breath, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

“Moira will be watching ye closely, Lucas. Dinnae think for a moment that yer past actions are forgotten,” Alisdair said. “I ken ye dinnae want to feel her blade.”

*

Alisdair entered the private chamber, halting all conversation. Fiona, Ailis, and Duncan turned toward him, faces full of anticipation and concern.

“Lucas Gordan will join our ranks. He’ll stay in a tent with the others,” he announced.

Moira expressed her disapproval. “Ye trust him enough for that? How do ye ken he’s not a spy for the Stewarts?”

“His knowledge has been valuable,” Alisdair replied. “We must use every tool to protect our lands.” He paused for a moment. “And ye, Moira, are assigned to watch him, and make sure he does nothing to undermine me authority.”

Moira’s eyes widened at Alisdair’s words, a mix of surprise and indignation flickering across her face. “Ye want me to be his keeper? After all the grief he’s caused us?”

Ailis stepped forward, her brow furrowed with concern. “Alisdair, are ye certain this is wise? Lucas has proven himself untrustworthy in the past. What if this is another one of his tricks?”

Fiona placed a gentle hand on her sister’s arm. “Aye, Ailis has a point. We cannae afford to let our guard down, especially now with the Stewarts plotting against us.”

Duncan, their father, stroked his graying beard thoughtfully. “Alisdair, lad, I trust yer judgment. But we must be cautious. The safety of our clan must come first.”

Alisdair nodded, his expression solemn. “Aye, I understand yer concerns. But we must use every advantage we have against the Stewarts. Lucas’s information could prove invaluable in the days to come.”

He turned to Moira, his gaze steady. “I ken it’s not an easy task, Moira. But yer the best one for the job. Yer instincts are sharp, and ye ken Lucas better than most. If anyone can keep him in line, it’s ye.”

Moira’s jaw clenched, her eyes flashing with a mix of frustration and resignation. “Very well, Alisdair. I’ll do as ye ask. But mark me words, if he steps out of line, even for a moment, I’ll not hesitate to put him in his place.”

Ailis sighed, her shoulders slumping as she met Moira’s gaze. “Just be careful, sister. I dinnae want to see ye hurt again because of Lucas’s schemes.”

Moira softened, reaching out to squeeze Ailis’s hand. “Dinnae fash yerself, Ailis. I’ll not let him get the better of me. If he tries anything, he’ll feel the sharp end of me dirk.”

Fiona stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. “We must stand united in this. The Stewarts will seek to exploit any weakness or division among us. Moira, ye have our support in watching over Lucas. But remember, ye dinnae have to face this alone.”

Duncan nodded, pride shining in his eyes as he looked at his daughters. “Aye, Fiona speaks true. We are stronger together, as a family and as a clan. Trust in each other, and we’ll weather any storm that comes our way.”

Alisdair clapped a hand on Duncan’s shoulder, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Well said, Duncan. We’ll face these challenges together, just as we should.”

Moira took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders as she met the gazes of her family. “Aye, ye’re right. I’ll not let Lucas, or the Stewarts, divide us. I’ll keep a close eye on him and make sure he stays true to his word.”

As they all dispersed, each to their own duties, Moira couldn’t shake the unease that settled in her stomach. Watching over Lucas would be no easy task, given their tumultuous history. But she was determined to prove her worth and protect her clan, no matter the cost.

*

Brodie and Lachlan joined the group as they went to address the clan’s warriors in the courtyard.

“Me brothers,” Alisdair thundered, “the Stewart forces will descend upon us in two days’ time.”

A collective murmur swept through the crowd.

“We will meet them with Highland strength. Our swords will sing the song of freedom!” Alisdair declared, igniting their spirits.

The warriors roared in approval, raising clenched fists.

“We fight not just for victory but for our way of life!” he continued, silencing the crowd once more.

Another wave of affirmation rose from the men. Brodie began strategizing while Lachlan stood beside his brother. United in purpose, they prepared to defend their homeland with honor and freedom intact.

As Alisdair’s speech ended, he raised his arms. “Tonight, we gather in strength,” he proclaimed. “Tomorrow, we feast within these walls as brothers in arms.”

*

In the bustling kitchens of McAfee Castle, Moira kneaded dough with intensity while Fiona moved from pot to pot, tasting and seasoning.

“Careful, Moira,” Fiona chided gently. “We need that to rise.”

Moira flashed a smile. “It will be the fluffiest bread they’ve ever tasted.”

Ailis remained in the infirmary, lending her steady hands and calming voice to those who needed it most.

Granny McAfee entered the kitchen, watching her granddaughters work with pride. “Ye both know this feast is more than food for the belly. It’s nourishment for the soul, a reminder of what we’re fightin’ to protect.”

“Thank you, Granny,” Fiona replied softly. “We’ll make sure this feast is one to remember.”

“Let’s give them a night of joy and laughter,” Moira said. “For tomorrow, we may dance with fate, but tonight, we feast!”

The sisters resumed their tasks in the bustling kitchen, rich with the aroma of roasting meat and baking bread. Camaraderie and shared purpose filled the air alongside anticipation for a memorable feast amid the shadows of war.

*

In McAfee Keep’s candlelit great hall, Moira danced with Brodie to the energetic beat of bagpipes and drums. Their lively reel was accompanied by laughing and clapping kilted figures.

“Ye’ve truly outdone yerself with this feast, Moira,” Brodie shouted over the music, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

“’Twas a clan effort,” she replied, breathless from the dance. “We all needed a night such as this.”

As one song ended and another began, Lucas Gordon approached Moira with an unexpected request for a dance. She accepted, curious about his sudden change in demeanor.

During their dance, Lucas whispered an apology for his actions during the games. Moira eyed him cautiously before responding, “Apologies are easy, Lucas. It’s actions that carry weight.”

“Then let me coming here be the first step in proving me sincerity,” he said earnestly.

After the dance, Moira informed Brodie of Lucas’s apology.

“There’s a struggle within him,” Brodie observed. “He’s not sure he’s done the right thing by joining us. He doesnae mind running from the Stewart, but he minds betraying his own father.”

“Can we trust him?” Moira asked, still wary.

“Time will tell,” answered Brodie. “For now, we must watch and wait.”

Dancing together again, Moira found comfort in Brodie’s quiet strength and considered the possibility of unity if Lucas sought genuine redemption.

As the last notes of the piper’s tune faded, Brodie McClain stood in the shadows, his mind anticipating the challenges ahead. He watched Moira and Fiona clear the remnants of the feast, their laughter contrasting with his silent strategizing.

Under the cover of dawn, Brodie convened a secret meeting in the war room. The men who’d decide the clan’s fate gathered around a map-laden table: stern Alisdair, sword-ready Lachlan, and conflicted Lucas Gordon.

“Lucas,” Alisdair began, “name the clans that stand with yer father.”

With hesitance and an inward struggle, Lucas named each supporting clan; each one sending ripples through the listeners.

Brodie listened intently and stepped forward as Lucas finished. “There are undecided clans who value honor. We must reach them before Clyde Stewart does.”

Lachlan’s skepticism showed. “Ye have a plan?”

“We send emissaries to the unaligned clans offering truth and kinship,” Brodie answered. “I’ll see to it myself.”

Alisdair nodded. “Time is a luxury we dinnae possess.”

With determination, Brodie mentally listed which men would serve as envoys. His plan was set; now he just needed to sway the tide in their favor.