Page 5

“How nice that you could join us, Baron MacKai.”

Raeb listened with increasing anger to the chilly, if polite, greeting from his betrothed. She all but stuck her nose in the air.

Artis rode over to him and gave him a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here, brother.”

He raised a brow. “You may wish I’d nae come if I find you were down at the selkie’s grave.”

Artis hung her head but glanced up from under her lashes, a sly smile curving her lips. “Well, we did go there. I had to show Jessamyn the grave.”

“So that was your excuse. My betrothed has no need to visit dangerous caves.”

He replied to Artis but fixed his gaze on Jessamyn as he advanced his horse until his face was a hand’s breadth from hers. “She is a grown woman who should know better than to allow a child to lure her into carelessness with fanciful tales.”

The lady’s eyes widened with innocence. The fine tremors of her hands on the rein belied her disinterest. Sensitive to her rider’s mood, the mare shifted her stance.

“Where are Dougal and Maeve?”

Raeb accused, hoping his tone and the abrupt change of topic would crack her calm facade.

She didn’t flinch, forming a courteous smile that came nowhere near her eyes. “I’ve not the slightest idea. Perhaps your men are in the habit of abandoning their duty. I’ve not been at Dungarob long enough to know what degree of obedience you expect. Certes if the captain of your guard and your sisters are any example, you place little value on compliant behavior.”

Raeb’s jaw clenched. How dare she accuse him of … of … He wasn’t certain what, but the accusation stung. She was wrong, of course. He prized obedience from his men, his sisters, and his entire clan. But he couldna deny that recent events gave a different impression.

“Your estimate of what I value is no relevant. What is important is that you allowed an innocent young woman to ride off alone with a hardened soldier.”

“He is the captain of your guard. You entrusted him with the care of all of us. And I’ve no way of knowing how innocent Maeve is.”

“Do you dare insult my sister?”

The icy glower he sent Jessamyn was meant to give her pause and no little fear.

Beside them, Artis frowned.

“Not at all. The few encounters I‘ve had with her gave me to think her a fairly level- headed young woman with high spirits and a good sense of humor.”

Unlike her brother. The lady had not said the words, but she was thinking them. He could see it in her wide-eyed smirk. If they had not been surrounded by people he would have kissed the expression from her face and given her something much more interesting to think about. Naught was going as he planned. He couldn’t afford these distractions, especially with the sacrifice he must ask of his sisters weighing on his mind.

“If any harm has come to Maeve, I shall hold you responsible. Now please return to the keep with all possible haste.”

“But I want to show Jessamyn the faerie stones and the druids’ caldron,”

protested Artis, who’d ridden close during his confrontation with Lady Du Grace.

He swallowed his anger and gentled his expression before turning to his sister. “Another time. I’ve an important matter to discuss with all my sisters that requires you to return home, now.”

“Very well.”

Raeb spoke briefly with his guardsman then turned back to Jessamyn.

“My lady, Artis, I beg you say naught of separating from Maeve and Dougal to anyone.”

“Yes, brother.”

Jessamyn nodded.

“Good. Now go with Sir Cedric. He will guide you safely back to the keep. I shall look for Dougal and Maeve.”

“You are sure you would not like our help?”

’Twas the first sincere sounding statement Jessamyn had made since he’d caught up with them. Was she genuinely concerned for his sister’s honor and only displeased with him personally? That would fit with her behavior at dinner last night. ’Twas no reason to change his treatment of her, so he rode on without giving a response.

Secure in the knowledge that the women would be safely escorted, Raeb followed the faint path into the trees. If Dougal and Maeve wanted privacy, they would have had to go this way. He knew the wood as well as any MacKai and better than his sister, who had always been more interested in flirting and her appearance than her surroundings. However, he had shared most of his adventures in these woods with Dougal. They’d been fast friends for longer than they’d been baron and man-at-arms. If anyone could hide in the forest, that person would be Dougal. The one advantage Raeb had was Dougal didn’t know he was being pursued. He had no reason to make any effort to hide his trail.

Looking for signs of horses passing, Raeb slowed. At the sound of hooves from behind, he halted and turned in his saddle. Against his expressed orders, Jessamyn Du Grace approached at a graceful canter. Mounted on the white mare, the lady made a beautiful vision with her rosy cheeks and her hair a glowing stream in the breeze. But much as he admired the picture she made and her easy movement atop her mount, he frowned.

“Why do you no return to Dungarob keep?”

he gritted out from between his teeth.

“You may not be concerned over your sister’s feelings at her brother finding her alone with a man, but I am. I will accompany you. My presence will help to keep the peace and give her comfort when she realizes how angry she has made you.”

“And you think your disobedience will make me less angry?”

“No, but my father often spoke of using a special tactic during his crusade with my godfather before Edward came to the throne. Father called it divide and conquer. Your anger is now divided between me, your sister, and your man, Dougal. Thus your anger will have been conquered and will fail to cause much damage.”

He stared at her, astonished that she’d given her actions so much thought. His sisters were nothing if not impulsive; a thoughtful woman was a new experience. If Jessamyn plotted so carefully over her actions in a few moments, what had she dreamed up as she traveled north on that ship? Was she deliberately trying to provoke him? If so, to what purpose? Had Edward Plantagenet set her to spy on his supposed ally?

She sat her horse and smiled calmly, waiting.

Raeb glared at her then turned away, kneeing his courser into motion. The bothersome woman was as disobedient and stubborn as all his sisters together. If he’d had another man with him, he would have given the guard orders to escort Lady Du Grace directly to her room in the keep or risk his wrath. However, the only one available to escort his irritating betrothed was himself. Rescuing his sister from disgrace and her own foolishness was more important. He’d have to put up with the Englishwoman until Maeve was safe and he’d dealt with Dougal. First he’d lay down the law and make certain neither his sister nor his man would have another opportunity to behave rashly. Then he’d make certain Jessamyn Du Grace, too, understood the hazards of defying his wishes.

They walked for some time with Raeb checking the ground to be certain he had not lost the trail. The trees to their right cleared, showing glimpses of a trout stream burbling over rocks. He kept well away from the steep bank until a high-pitched giggle rose over the water’s noise. Aha! Now he knew exactly where Dougal had taken Maeve. Raeb urged his mount to walk faster, noting that his companion followed suit.

The trees grew sparse, and the land sloped downward to end in a spit that jutted out into the stream. There near the water’s edge sat Dougal, chewing on a blade of grass and staring at Maeve. Skirt hiked above her knees, she waded shin deep in the burn. She was bent over laughing, moving her hands in the water near a spot where the bank overhung the stream. A spot that Raeb knew was perfect for tickling trout. If her disarray was not bad enough, her position presented her backside and a great deal of exposed leg to Dougal’s view. So absorbed were the couple that they didn’t notice they had company.

Raeb paused a moment to attempt to restrain his anger then drove his horse at a gallop straight into the water. He bent sideways in the saddle and plucked his sister from the stream onto the high, broad pommel before wheeling his courser to face Dougal.

The captain of the Dungarob guard stood, sword drawn, mouth agape.

Jessamyn reined in her mount at the bottom of the slope.

Raeb trained his gaze on the man he’d called friend for most of his life. “I should slay you where you stand for neglecting your duty and placing my sister’s life at risk. You drew your blade too late. Had I been an enemy I would be half a league from here, and you still waving that weapon about. By the time you gained your saddle I’d be so far away you’d have no hope of catching me even if you could find my trail. Maeve’s honor if no her life would be in shreds.”

Dougal dropped his head to his chest and his blade to the ground. “Aye, my lord MacKai. You are right. I beg you forgive my carelessness.”

Raeb kneed his mount into a walk until he reached a spot between his betrothed and his captain, where he attempted to set Maeve on the ground. However, she twisted in his arms and beat on his chest while dangling above the earth.

“You beast, do no dare blame Dougal. ’Tis my fault entirely. He wanted to go back and look for Artis and Jessamyn, but I gave him no peace until he let me wade in the stream. When he became impatient I sought to tease him into kissing me by tickling trout.”

“Foolish girl. How is it you learned to tease a man in such a way for such a reason? You never came with me when I invited you to go fishing, and certes, I would no have included anything about kissing,”

he shouted. He pointed a finger at Dougal. “Did he instruct you? What else did you learn from him? Must I kill my best friend for being alone with you long enough to teach you things only a husband should teach?”

“’Twas Artis who taught me to fish. I thought up the rest on my own,”

Maeve continued to push against him.

“Unhand her,”

Dougal yelled. He rushed to steady her precarious position. “She’ll fall if you dinna leash your temper.”

Well trained, his courser stood its ground, only tossing its head and flattening its ears to show how much it disliked the madness of humans.

“Dinna touch my sister.”

“Silence,”

Jessamyn bellowed.

Raeb’s head swiveled.

Dougal froze.

Maeve stiffened.

Even the dappled gelding stilled, although its ears quickly returned to an upright position.

Lady Jessamyn brought her horse closer.

“Now, Dougal, please step back.”

He complied. Whether from surprise or sheer terror at the volume of sound the lady had produced, Raeb was not certain.

“Baron MacKai, set Maeve down gently.”

He gave Jessamyn a hard look, but following her order was better than playing tug of war over his sister.

When Maeve stood on the ground, her lower lip trembled. A tearful squall threatened.

Dismounting, Jessamyn hugged the younger woman. “There, there. ’Tis nothing to be frightened of.”

Maeve stared up at Jess. “Are you sure? You willna let Raeb kill Dougal, will you? You’re to be Raeb’s wife. He’ll let Dougal live if you ask for it.”

Jessamyn shook her head. “I doubt your brother intends to kill the captain of his guard.”

Grudgingly, Raeb admitted her good sense. Dougal’s offense was serious but was not yet a killing matter.

“You’ll ride back with me,”

Jessamyn continued. “I need someone to show me the way.”

“But … ”

“No. We must leave the men to sort things out between them. Our interference will not be welcomed.”

Maeve looked at Dougal.

“Aye, lass, Lady Du Grace is right. I’ll be much easier, knowing you’re safe on your way home.”

Calmer, his sister asked, “Promise you willna hurt him?”

“I’ll do naught to Dougal that he no deserves,”

Raeb answered.

Maeve set her chin and placed a hand on each hip. “If you harm a hair on his head, I swear, brother, I shall have cook place soapwort in your food every day for a month.”

A smothered snort from Jessamyn’s direction drew his attention. He glared at her then sighed.

“I’ll do naught to draw your wrath, but do no forget that you have earned my anger as much as Dougal. Now take Lady Du Grace to the keep and await me there.”

His sister opened her mouth.

Grasping Maeve by the hand and leading her away, Lady Jessamyn effectively forestalled further argument. “Come, let us get your horse. Artis will worry about us if someone does not return soon.”

Raeb watched until the women disappeared into the trees. Then he dismounted and approached Dougal.

“I am sorry, Raeb.”

“Aye.”

With lightning speed he punched Dougal in the face and laid the man out flat.

Stunned, Dougal lay on the ground. After a moment he spat blood then touched his injured jaw, moving it gingerly back and forth. “’Tis no broken.”

“I held back out of respect for our former friendship.”

Raeb extended his hand.

Dougal accepted the hand up. “I understand how you feel, but I hate to lose such a good friend. I dinna suppose there’s any way I could be making it up to you?”

“Mayhap.”

“How?”

“Stay away from Maeve until you’ve gained either lands or fortune.”

“’Tis a reasonable thing to ask.”

“I’m no asking. I’m telling; else you’ll need to find a new baron to serve.”

“I see. ’Twill help if you make clear to Maeve what the consequences are. I canna always control what she does.”

“Aye, I’ll do that, but if she gives you any trouble, send her to me. Do you understand?”

“Aye, my lord MacKai.”

“Excellent. Now to help Maeve become used to no having you near, I’m sending you with messages to King John at Inverness then on to a man in England, Baron Ravensmere, who favors Scotland’s freedom. He’ll give you news of the MacKai breeding herd and its return to Dungarob.”

Dougal gaped at him.

He frowned. “What is it? Surely you know the MacKai guard can manage without you for a few weeks. Cedric needs experience leading the men if you intend to settle down and do right by Maeve.”

Dougal blinked. “Did you just say you would be getting back the Dungarob breeding herd?”

Raeb grinned. “Aye, and without having to use the Du Grace dowry to buy them all.”

“I’m amazed they are still together. How will you manage this miracle?”

“I met Baron Ravensmere when I went to Strathnaver to make peace with Clan Marr. The baron said he can locate the horses and arrange for them to be stolen from wherever their present owner hides them. The thieves will drive the herd back here and receive a suitable reward for their efforts. This news was among the messages Rhuad delivered today. All is in readiness to get the horses back. Ravensmere only waits for a trusted man to guide those who bring the herd.”

Dougal dipped his head. “As you wish.”

He placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’d best be on your way. I’ve the messages in my saddlebags.”

Raeb watched his friend and captain of his guard climb the eastern ridge, only one of several progressively steeper ridges between Dungarob and the Earl of Strathnaver’s lands.

The border between the two holdings lay in a valley cut by the river that poured from the falls near Loch Naver and eventually emptied into Dungarob Bay.

Once that border valley had been the playground for all four men.

Raeb, Dougal, Brice Marr, and his twin brother Colin had all cut their teeth with hunting and mock battles on the heavily treed slopes.

They’d challenged each other to races against the current of the stream.

They’d lazed away summer days fishing in the ponds and competing in various friendly contests of strength like those held at clan gatherings throughout the summers.

Then Raeb had been fostered in England and visits home had been rare.

After the murder of his parents, the bond with the Marr brothers had been broken.

Raeb counted himself lucky to still have Dougal’s friendship.

The recent peace between the clans was an unexpected blessing and all due to his sister Sorcha’s determination.

Raeb turned his horse for home, emerging from the wood to see the sun sinking behind the sea.

Dougal would fulfill his word, so the MacKai horses would be home, perhaps before Edward’s ships arrived.

That meant Raeb must find the means to provide supplies, repair the stables, and purchase or restore equipment, all while preparing for the English troop ships and managing one confusing and surprising English lady.

Jessamyn Du Grace’s dowry would provide what Dungarob needed, but he’d not have access to that until she broke the betrothal, and so far she was not cooperating.

What was he to do with her? The plan to shun her and make her feel unwelcome at Dungarob had failed before it had truly begun.

’Twas only her second day here, and his sisters already adored her, and he … well he’d rather not look too closely at what he felt for Jessamyn Du Grace.

She challenged him, and he found that vastly attractive, almost more so than her lean beauty and proud carriage.

He enjoyed too much attempting to break the cool reserve she saved just for him.

The last thing he needed was to lose his head over crimson lips and a beautiful body.

He must keep his wits sharp if he was to succeed in his plans to restore Dungarob’s fortunes.

Which meant he must address the more immediate threat to his ambitions—Iver MacTavish and his demand for a MacKai bride.

He’d retrieve Maeve and gather all his sisters together.

And then what? Place the future of Clan MacKai and Scotland in their hands.

God help them all.