Page 1 of The Mad Highlander

1

“ I ris, where are ye?!” The panic strangling her cousin’s voice sent a chill down her spine as Iris shot up straight and jumped to her feet. She had been lounging in the gardens under her favorite tree when the rushed sounds of hooves beating against clay disrupted her peace. Her long, ebony hair fell down her back like a waterfall of curly coal as she hurried to try and replace the ribbon she had loosened.

What the devil is going on?

The dark green dress she had chosen to match her eyes was soiled, but that would have to wait for another time. Her heart beat fiercely in her chest as she tried to crane her neck and see what all the fuss was about. The garden was hidden well enough to obscure anything from view with its patches of thistles and high rowan trees.

Both rider and beast came into view as Tristan Whyte reined in his horse and jumped from the saddle before the chestnut mare had even come to a stop.

“Iris! Iris!” Tristan rushed toward her with a distraught look in his eyes that twisted her stomach into knots. His usually neat brown hair was tousled and wild. He closed the distance between them with a few lengthy strides.

“What’s the matter?” Iris asked, lifting her dress and rushing toward him. “Ye look as if ye have seen a ghost.”

“Thank heavens ye are here, Iris.” Tristan was out of breath as he reached for her arms and braced himself.

“Why? Has something happened?” She searched his flushed face, her pulse racing with fear. It was rare for her cousin to leave his duties as Laird of Castle McCabe and seek her out.

“Aye,” Tristan replied, and swallowed hard, looking her in the eyes for the first time since he’d dismounted his horse.

Her heart sank as her younger brother instantly came to mind. She had never liked the idea of him learning how to fight. “What’s happened?” Her voice came out sharper than what she had intended.

“It’s Ashton,” Tristan managed to blurt out the words amidst his labored breathing. Long strands of his brown hair clung to his forehead, matted with sweat.

The feeling of ice running through her veins consumed her body. Snapping out of her daze in a matter of seconds, she shook her cousin by the shoulders. Her light frame did little to move his stocky build, but she didn’t care. “What has happened… Where is he?”

Shaking his head, Tristan shut his eyes and gulped as if the words were too painful to utter. “Tell me!” Iris snapped and shook him even harder. “Where is me brother?”

“H—he… was kidnapped” Tristan stuttered, his voice shuddering.

The world suddenly began to blur as her arms dropped to her sides.

Kidnapped?

The word felt strange on her tongue as she struggled to breathe. Ashton had been in her care since the day her parents had died; how was it possible that he had suddenly gone missing when she’d kept him safe for the better part of seventeen years?

“I swear to God, Iris, I dinnae ken how it happened. We were on our way back when some men, who I reckon were Murdochs, attacked us. We tried escaping, but yer brother, he was too slow. So…” Tristan’s voice was almost pleading as he began to explain.

“So, what?!” Iris yelled, feeling the final remnants of her resolve snapping.

“He was taken!” Tristan shouted in frustration.

Iris took a step back and shook her head. “Nay… Nay… This cannae be happening.” She sank back onto the grass as her legs gave way to the fear coursing through her veins.

“I am sure we can come up with a plan to get him back as soon as possible.” Tristan came toward her and sank to his haunches, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Bring him back? From the Murdoch clan?” Iris lifted her head in disbelief and looked at her cousin as if he were mad.

“I ken very well that what I am saying is madness, but I cannae think of another way to bring Ashton back. The Murdoch clan is one of our most fierce and hated rivals; they willnae hesitate to kill a McCabe.” His voice was thick with worry as he held her gaze.

“I ken very well who the Murdoch clan is, cousin,” Iris snapped at him unintentionally, giving in to the heat of the moment. Her entire life had consisted of raising her brother; she wasn’t sure what she would do if anything happened to him.

“Ye need nae worry, Iris… I…” Tristan began, swallowing hard once again as he removed his hand from her shoulder.

“I need nae worry?” Iris’ voice dripped with sarcasm as she tried to keep calm. Her palms had begun to sweat as she balled her fists on her lap. “Me only brother has been kidnapped by the most hated clan in all of Scotland, and ye do ken the Murdochs, Tristan. They never keep prisoners. So, tell me, why should I nae worry?”

“I am sure there is a way to get him out of there.” Tristan tried his best to console her, but Iris knew deep down that getting him back would be akin to performing a miracle.

She looked up at him. “This hope that ye give me. Is it one I should trust, or one I should take with a pinch of salt?” Her throat felt dry as her words burned her lips. She’d never been one to give up hope, but the situation at hand seemed so dire that she felt as if all had already been lost.

No.

Hope burned in her chest once again, Ashton and Tristan were the only family she had left after a lifetime of suffering and hardship. She needed to cling to the hope that something could be done.

Tristan just shook his head, unable to proffer a reply to her question.

“We need to come up with a plan to save him, Tristan; they will not hesitate to kill him.” She tried but failed to stop the tears that streamed down her cheeks. Crying had always been a sign of weakness to her, but there was no stopping the fear that threatened to consume her.

“I will do anythin’ to save him. Do ye trust me?” Tristan asked, his eyes bright with hope and determination.

“I can trust ye, Tristan, but it’s the Murdochs. Ye ken how much they hate us. This isnae something ye or I can do. I’m sure they are nae treating him well if they haven’t killed him already.” Her voice broke as she tried to block out the horrific images of her brother being tortured.

“I think I ken what to do.” Tristan suddenly began to pace after pausing for a second.

Iris cocked her head to the side in question. “An’ what is that?”

“The only other person that is powerful enough to face the Murdochs is Laird O’Brien.” He turned, stopped, and looked Iris directly in the eyes.

“I dinnae ken if I heard ye right. Did ye say Laird O’Brien, the mad laird?” Iris pushed herself with her hands on her knees, wondering if Tristan was in his right mind. Perhaps the shock of losing Ashton had begun to cloud his judgment.

“I think Laird O’Brien may be the only hope we have of getting Ashton back.” Tristan spoke more confidently now as if he’d made up his mind.

“I dinnae understand.” Iris shook her head as if her cousin had suddenly lost his mind like some kind of dobber.

Tristan took a step toward her and began to explain. “I ken that Laird O’Brien hasnae had anything to do with us in years, but his clan was once our allies. If I can convince him to help us, then we may just have a fighting chance.”

One thought after the other consumed Iris, leaving her feeling overwhelmed and exhausted. How had it gotten to this point? She sighed deeply and buried her face in her palms. Hiding from the world provided her with a moment of respite, but she wouldn’t be able to do that for very long.

“Is that yer plan?” Iris demanded. “Fight one sort of madness with another? He was an ally once, but he isnae now, is he? How do ye even ken Laird O’Brien will help us? He will likely fight us too, willnae he?”

“Me enemy’s enemy is me friend,” Tristan stated. “I ken it is madness, but it’s the only thing that gives us a chance of gettin’ yer brother back. Laird O’Brien doesnae care about yer brother, but he hates the Murdochs enough to jump at the chance or a reason to fight them.”

“Aye,” Iris murmured. “Aye, I suppose ye might be right about that. He’s a powerful man, and any clan fears him. I dinnae like allyin’ with him, but what other choice do we have?”

“Yer seein’ sense,” Tristan said.

He was right. Lord O’Brien was their only hope now. But would a man like that really help them? What if she ended up losing both her cousin and her brother?

A guard ran to meet Tristan and whispered something into his ear.

“I will leave ye now, cousin. There is something I must attend to. I’ll contact Laird O’Brien this evening.” Tristan hurriedly addressed her with a nod toward the guard before leaving.

Iris watched as the men walked away, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Please bring him back.

She whispered a silent prayer in her heart. She wanted her brother back, even if that meant they needed to contact the mad laird. A chill ran down her spine as she recalled all the stories of Cayden Hart.