Highland Hero (2 page)

“I have come to take my nephew home, wench,” he said, and pointed at the baby.

“And what proof do ye have to tell me that he truly is your blood kin?” she demanded.

Edina fought the urge to take a step back when he glared at her, the strength of his anger frightening her. He was a big man, tall and lean yet strongly built. Thick chestnut hair that gleamed red whenever the sun touched it hung past his broad shoulders. The dark plaid draping his hard body was pinned with a brooch that identified him as a MacRae of Dunmor. The lean lines of his handsome face were taut with emotion. The clenching of his strong jaw, the light flush upon his high, wide cheekbones, and the tight line of his well-shaped mouth clearly identified that emotion as a dangerous fury. She glanced briefly at the way his long-fingered hand gripped the hilt of his sword, found herself a little too interested in the shape of his long legs, and quickly returned her gaze to his face. It was a poor time to find a man disturbingly attractive, she decided, especially since that man looked as if he would like to take her head from her shoulders.

“Look at the bairn’s hair,” he snapped.

“I have. He has a fine crop of curls, but brown isnae such a rare color that it alone marks him as your kin.” Edina was surprised that she could look him in the eye and so sweetly dismiss his rich hair color as common. “Ye cannae expect me to just hand ye a helpless bairn because ye tell me to or because ye both have brown hair.”

“And just what concern is it of yours?” he demanded as he dismounted in one graceful move. When he stepped toward her, however, the dog bristled and bared his large teeth in a low, threatening snarl, and Lucais stopped moving. “I might ask ye what ye are doing here, deep in the forest, with only an ugly dog and a bairn.”

“That handsome beast is Gar, and I found this wee bairn whilst hunting.” She lightly touched the rabbits hanging from her sword belt to strengthen her claim.

“A few rabbits dangling from your belt doesnae mean ye are innocent of any crime. It could just mean that ye paused now and again in the committing of the crime to do a wee bit of hunting.”

Edina briefly feared that he knew she was hunting on another clan’s lands, then shook that fear aside. He did not know who she was, for she wore no identifying brooch, badge, or plaid, so he could not know that she was poaching. “What crime? I have committed no crime.”

“I have searched for my nephew Malcolm for three long days, and, when I finally find him, ye are here standing over him. I would not be amiss in suspecting that ye might have had something to do with his kidnapping.”

“Nay? Ye would be an idiot. Ye are MacRaes from Dunmor. That is o’er a day’s ride from here. Look about, fool. Do ye see a horse?”

It annoyed Lucais that he could find her low, husky voice attractive when she was so sharply insulting him. “Ye could be the one who was given the bairn after the kidnapping and ye brought him here to this desolate place intending to leave him here to die. Now ye try to keep us from saving him.” He took an instinctive step back from the fury that whitened her pale skin and hardened her delicate features.

“I should kill ye for that insult,” she hissed, fighting to tame her anger, for she knew she needed a clear head if she was to be an adequate protector for the child. “I would ne’er leave a bairn alone.”

“Then why do ye hesitate to return him to the arms of his own kinsmen?”

“I am nae so sure that ye are his kin, and I certainly have no proof that those arms are safe ones.”

Edina was beginning to doubt that this man was a threat to the child, but she feared that his handsome face might be influencing her opinion. She could not believe she could be so quickly and fiercely attracted to a man who could hurt a child. That child’s life was at stake, however, and she had to be sure. The fact that he and his two companions had made no move to simply take the baby away from her, something she was sure they could do without too much danger of injury to themselves, was in their favor, but even that was not enough.

“Lucais,” said the redheaded Andrew, drawing his angry cousin’s attention his way. “We go nowhere with this trading of accusations and the day speeds by. Mayhap ye and the lass can come to some agreement so that we can take poor wee Malcolm to a warmer, safer place. We must spend at least one night sleeping upon the ground. If we linger here much longer, that could become two, and that willnae help poor Malcolm.”

The wisdom of Andrew’s words could not be ignored, and Lucais took a deep breath to calm himself before again looking at the belligerent young woman keeping him from Malcolm. “Can we agree that the child must be kept safe?”

There was still a hint of anger in his deep, rich voice, and that made his attempt to be reasonable all the more admirable in Edina’s eyes, so she nodded. “Aye. That is what we both claim to want.”

“And the trouble lies in the fact that I dinnae believe you and ye dinnae believe me. Ye dinnae wish to give the child to me and I dinnae wish to give the child to you, a woman I have ne’er met and dinnae even ken the name of.”

“I am Edina MacAdam, niece to Ronald MacAdam of Glenfair. And, aye, ye have the right of it.”

Lucais gave her a mocking bow. “And I am Lucais MacRae, Laird of Dunmor. So, we are at an impasse.”

“Do I have your word that ye willnae kill me if I sheath my sword?”

“Aye. I swear it. Are ye willing to believe in my word?”

She shrugged as she sheathed her sword. “I cannae be certain that I do, but, if ye break your word, I will have the pleasure of kenning that ye will go to hell for giving an empty oath. And your name will be weel blackened, if it hasnae been already.”

“Ye watch your tongue, lass,” snapped young Ian, his thin face tight with anger. “The name of Lucais MacRae is an honored one. There isnae a mon in all of Scotland who wouldnae be proud to have Lucais stand at his side.”

“Thank you, cousin,” Lucais murmured to the youth, who, at barely nineteen years of age, was not as skilled as he was eager to be a knight. He caught Edina rolling her eyes at the boy’s effusive praise and was surprised to have to swallow a laugh. “We need an answer to our problem, mistress,” he told her. “As my cousin Andrew so wisely indicated, the day wanes and we must be on our way or chance two nights on the road. ’Tis summer, but the weather isnae always this fair and warm. A night caught out in a storm could harm the child.”

Keeping a close watch on the three men, Edina picked up little Malcolm. “I can keep the bairn with me until ye have ended the danger he is in.”

“Nay. I dinnae ken ye or your people. He is my sister’s child. I will protect him.”

“Aye, and ye have done such a fine job of it thus far.” She ignored his anger and thought for a moment, finally reaching a decision that both satisfied and terrified her. “I willnae leave this bairn until I am sure he is safe and ye willnae let me keep him with me. That leaves but one other answer. I must come with you.”

Chapter 2

Edina grimaced and tried to stretch without disturbing the child sleeping at her side. She did not think she had ever slept on harder or colder ground. Just as she was cursing herself for riding off to a strange place with men she did not know, little Malcolm opened his big gray eyes and smiled at her. Edina sighed and knew she would make the same choice no matter how often she was presented with the problem.

As she sat up, trying not to reveal how stiff and sore she was, she looked at the three men crouched around the fire. They were roasting the last of her rabbits, she noticed with a scowl. She also noticed that she felt no fear of them. After riding behind Lucais for several hours, little Malcolm in a sling on her back, she had begun to believe that he spoke the truth. He had been neither friendly nor trusting, but he had not even tried to hurt her or shake free of her. Although he had been lacking in courtesy, he had been gentle each time he had helped her mount or dismount or put Malcolm in his sling and secure it. He had also been kind to the child and to Gar. He had even brought supplies of clothing, clean changing rags, and goat’s milk for the boy. Everything indicated that he was a concerned uncle, but Edina was not ready to give Malcolm into his full care yet. Someone had left the child out in the forest to die, there was a real threat to the life of the child, and she could not turn her back on him yet.

After rolling up the bedding Lucais had grudgingly given her, she left Gar to watch over Malcolm as she slipped into the cover of the forest to relieve herself. When she returned she found that Lucais had cleaned and dressed the baby and was preparing to feed him. She stood in front of him, her hands on her hips, and scowled at the tender scene. Her attraction to the man was increasing, rapidly growing too strong to push aside. She wished he did not act so sweet around the child, for it only enhanced his attractiveness, and she did not want to want him. Even if he proved to be a very good man, she could never have him. Not only was she poor and landless, but she had certainly not endeared herself to him by thrusting herself into the midst of his troubles.

“Your dog neither snarls nor bristles,” Lucais said as he looked at her. “He trusts me.”

“Ye think so?” she drawled. “Try to walk away with the bairn.”

She smiled as Lucais picked Malcolm up, stood up, and started to walk away. He had barely taken two steps before he was confronted by a snarling, threatening Gar. After a moment of trying to stare down the dog, he whispered a curse and handed Malcolm to her.

“How did ye get him to do that?” he asked, frowning when Gar immediately relaxed.

“He is a clever dog,” she replied, patting Gar on the head. “He will help me keep this bairn safe.”

“I can protect my own kin.” He cursed when she just looked at him, one delicately arched brow lifted. “My sister Elspeth was unwise,” he said even as he wondered why he was bothering to explain anything to her. “She took a lover when she was young and heedless, a mon she could never wed, for he had a wife already. Finally, she turned to a mon who had courted her for a long time and they were married. I ne’er learned what turned her, whether her lover had done something wrong or if she had just grown older and wiser and realized that she did not wish to spend the rest of her days as that mon’s leman. She and her young mon Walter were happy and Malcolm was soon born, her lover troubling them only now and again.” He shook his head, puzzled and still fighting his raw grief. “Elspeth and Walter were not afraid of her old lover, seeing him as no more than a nuisance, and I soon did the same.”

Edina fed Malcolm as she listened to the sad tale, hearing Lucais’s pain and struggling against the strong urge to try to comfort him. “But her lover was a danger to her, wasnae he?”

“Aye. I dinna ken what finally changed him from a nuisance to a threat, but ’tis clear that jealousy and rage finally overwhelmed him. He killed Walter and Elspeth and took Malcolm. There must have been a hint of sanity remaining, and he could not put a child to the sword.”

“Nay. He just tossed the poor wee bairn into the forest so that he could feed the animals or die on his own slowly.” She believed him and, as she settled Malcolm against her shoulder and rubbed his back, she scolded herself for trusting too quickly. “Do ye ken who the mon is?”

“Aye. Simon Kenney, a mon who would be poor and landless save that he made a rich marriage.”

“And why havenae ye killed him yet?” Edina was a little surprised at her bloodthirst, but then Malcolm patted her cheek with one damp little hand, and she understood.

“I cannae find the mon,” Lucais reluctantly admitted.

“Ye arenae having verra good luck at finding things, are ye?” she drawled. “Mayhap ye should make use of Gar.”

Lucais decided to ignore that insult and glanced at her dog. “Where did ye get a name like Gar?”

“From Maida, my uncle’s cook. When I brought my wee puppy to the kitchens to show him to her, she said he was so ugly,
he gars me grew—
makes me tremble. So I called him Garsmegrew, but ’tis a mouthful, so it soon became just Gar. He grew into a fine, handsome beast,” she said as she patted the dog’s head.

There was a distinct gleam of laughter in her beautiful eyes. Lucais was not sure he was pleased to discover that he was right, that her eyes were breathtaking when seen up close. There was a faint slant to their shape, her lashes were long, thick, and as glossy a black as her hair, and the green was the color of ivy.

Afraid he was in danger of revealing his ill-timed attraction to her, he turned his attention to her dog, and nearly smiled. Gar was big, his shaggy coat was a mottled gray, and he was indeed a very ugly dog. When the animal was snarling and baring his impressive teeth, he was threatening enough to make any grown man hesitate. Although the animal was nothing much to look at, he was well trained and a good protector for his mistress. That alone made him a worthy animal. Lucais idly wondered how easy it would be to win the dog’s trust. He suspected he could never pull the animal from Edina’s side, but he might be able to woo the animal just enough to get him to stop threatening him. He allowed Gar to sniff his hand, then cautiously patted the animal, inwardly pleased with that small sign of progress.

“Ye had best break your fast,” he told Edina, ignoring her look of suspicion and the way she pulled her dog a little closer to her side. “There is some rabbit left. We must ride for Dunmor soon.”

Edina frowned as he walked away, his two young cousins following him as he strode into the surrounding forest. For a moment she was surprised to be left alone with their horses and goods, then shook her head and went to eat some food. She might not be able to see Lucais and his cousins, but she was certain at least one of them was watching her closely. Instinct told her that Lucais was beginning to trust her, to believe that she sought only to protect the baby, but he did not trust her enough to leave her completely unguarded.

As she struggled to eat and keep Malcolm’s little fingers away from the fire, her food, and the wineskin, she tried to plan what she would do when she reached Dunmor. If she could not yet trust Lucais, she certainly could not trust any of his people. That meant that she would have to keep Malcolm with her at all times. She tried not to think about the possibility that Lucais was Malcolm’s true enemy, that she was blinded by her own attraction to the man. If Lucais was the enemy, she was riding into the very heart of his camp, and there was little chance that she would be able to save Malcolm.