MacLean's Passion: A Highland Pride Novel (22 page)

By dark of the next day, Maggie was beside herself. She had no idea what to do for Colin or if there was anything she could do. The more time went on, the grimmer his expression became. She overheard men talking among themselves, wondering what they were to do. Could they take the castle alone? Should MacLean retreat?

Colin kept to himself that night. She sat alone through the long dark night, on alert for the English, who could discover their presence any day now.

But the English didn’t arrive.

And neither did any MacLeans.

Maggie approached Colin early that next morning. “The men are talking,” she said, making sure no one heard her. “We need to know what to do.”

“We’ll head out,” he said. “I’ll tell the men to break camp. We’ll go back to Sutherland’s, and I’ll release Campbell’s men to return to Campbell.”

“That’s it? That’s the end?”

His look was bleak and cold and desolate. “What would ye have me do? Storm the castle? With the meager amount of men we have? It’s doomed and we’ll fail.”

“So Abbott wins? The English win?”

“So we stay alive.”

“Give it one more day.”

“Ye said yerself that we canno’ stay any longer. It’s time to go.” He walked away.

Chewing on her lower lip, Maggie turned in a circle and looked around. It was true that they were a meager lot, not nearly enough force to take back Colin’s home, but they could do something. Surely they could do something.

Assured that Colin was well occupied talking to Sutherland and Adair Campbell, Maggie slid into the shadows of the forest and went around the perimeter, keeping clear of the posted guards. She found her horse in the makeshift paddock and quietly led him away.

Colin gave the orders to break camp. To his surprise, Sutherland was in agreement with Maggie and thought they should wait a few more days. Adair Campbell said he would do whatever Colin ordered.

Colin had no doubt that his clansmen knew he was here. His smugglers were some of the best in the country and were always aware of what was happening on MacLean land. That they hadn’t approached him yet told him that either they couldn’t come to him because they were imprisoned or dead, or they no longer trusted him. Both options meant that Colin did not have enough men to take back the castle.

He wanted to get closer, to see exactly what was happening to his ancestral home. How many Englishmen were billeted there? How difficult would it be to take it back? But what good would it do if he didn’t have the men for that?

Damn Abbott. Damn, damn, damn him. Colin didn’t want to admit defeat to the bastard. He wanted to fight, but he had all of these men to think about. And Maggie. He couldn’t endanger Maggie.

He watched as their camp was broken down, the men working efficiently. Sutherland’s men. Campbell’s men. But none of his own men.

He looked around for his wife. He couldn’t find her, but there probably wasn’t a need to worry. She had more than pulled her weight throughout this disastrous ordeal. He’d watched her help set up camp, clean the game the hunters had provided, and, of course, take her watch during the night.

“Ye’re sure about this?” Sutherland asked.

“What am I supposed to do? Storm the castle with these few men? We’ll be killed in an instant.”

“Let me scout the area,” Sutherland said. “At least let us discover what we’re up against. With any luck, the English have left only a few men in residence and it will be an easy thing to sneak in and take it back.”

“Abbott is in there waiting for me. He took my home to lure me here. One last confrontation.” A confrontation to the death. Abbott knew it and Colin knew it. Neither could allow the other to live.

“And ye would deny him that? YoYeu would walk away and allow yer enemy to keep yer home?”

“What other choice do I have? We do no’ have enough men to fight.”

“Yer clansmen?”

“Have ye seen them filing in? They’re no’ here. Either Abbott rounded them up or they’re in hiding. I canno’ put any more lives in danger. Ye need yer men, and Campbell needs his.”

“My men will do as I say, and Campbell’s men will do as ye say,” Sutherland said.

“My home is no’ nearly as important as your Staran or Graham’s protectors.”

“Let me ride up there and see what the lay of the land is.”

Colin shrugged, weary to his bones with all of this. “Do as ye wish, but we’re moving out in a few hours.”

Sutherland strode away toward where the horses were penned. Colin again looked for Maggie. It seemed he was always looking for Maggie or always aware of her presence. It was a comfort and a curse.

It was late afternoon, and the camp was mostly packed up, when he realized she was missing. His first reaction was a fear so intense that it made his legs weak. Where in the hell was she? Had she been taken by the English?

He ordered a search of the area, and as the minutes dragged on, his fear intensified. She’d survived one imprisonment by luck. He doubted she would be able to do the same a second time.

When the men returned having seen no trace of her, his fear turned to a panic that dried his mouth.

“Her mount is missing,” Adair Campbell said after checking all of the horses.

Colin tried to peer through the dense trees but saw nothing. Had she left on her own? The English wouldn’t have politely asked her to take her horse with her, and she never would have gone with them quietly. Besides, why would the English take
her
? Why not
him
?

“What will you have us do?” Adair asked.

Colin looked up into the cloudless blue sky. It seemed odd that when his life was falling apart, that the sky should be so beautiful.

“Where are ye, Maggie, lass?”

A shout answered him, and he turned to find Sutherland running toward him.

“I’ve found Maggie,” Sutherland said, out of breath.

“She’s in the clearing,” Sutherland said.

Colin was almost afraid to believe that Maggie had been found. His heart leaped, though a part of him harbored dread. But when he reached the clearing, he saw something that he’d never imagined he would see.

Maggie stood in the center, surrounded by his smugglers and clansmen. “I found them,” she said, her eyes gleaming.

One of the men stepped forward with a cocky grin and one eye squeezed closed.

“Duff,” Colin said with a smile.

“MacLean, ye numpty bastard. Where the hell have ye been?”

Colin laughed. Leave it to Duff to say what everyone else wanted to say.

Duff pulled Maggie forward and draped his arm over her shoulder. “This lass says ye’ve been busy gettin’ married,” he said.

“Aye. Among other things.”

Duff’s smile fell away, along with his arm around Maggie’s shoulder. “I heard that, too. If we’d a known, I’da been there to get ye out.”

“I appreciate that, Duff. I thank ye.”

Duff glanced over his shoulder at the clansmen behind him. “It’s bad,” he said. “The bastard English just marched right in and took it all.”

“The women and children?” Colin asked through a tight throat.

“Most of ’em got away. Some are still in there, servin’ the limey bastards.”

“Are they being treated well?”

“We do no’ know.”

Another man stepped forward and Colin’s heart squeezed. He’d never thought he’d see these men again, and even if he had, he’d never thought they would want to speak to him.

“Alan MacLean,” Colin said. Alan had been in charge of the warriors for years. He’d first served under Colin’s father, then under Dougal, and now under Colin.

“We’ve rounded up as many as we could and hidden them throughout the countryside. We’ve been waitin’ for ye,” Alan said.

“My apologies for no’ being here when ye needed me,” Colin said.

Alan shrugged. “No’ much ye can do from prison.”

“No.” As if he were a wee lad caught in a lie, Colin shifted from one foot to the other.
But ye could have come back right away or been present before ye were even arrested.

“But now that ye’re here, we’re yers to command,” Duff said.

Colin looked behind him to the men and women watching him silently. The mantle of responsibility weighed heavy on his shoulders, but it was a welcome weight. He was ready to take back his clan and reclaim his home.

He cleared his throat and pulled Maggie to his side. “Reclaiming my home doesn’t just mean that I have a house or that I can now provide a home for my new wife. It means that all of ye will also have a home, a place to go, a leader to help ye through these tough times.” He paused. His throat was thick and he had to clear it again. Maggie wound her arm around his waist and patted his hip in encouragement.

The people gathered around him, eagerly waiting for him to speak, and more than ever he wanted to help them and be the leader they were looking at him to become. He needed to become that leader for them, for himself, and for his future with Maggie.

He looked down at his wife. Her lips were curved into a smile, and there was such belief in her eyes that it made him swell with a pride he’d never felt. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her closer to him. Without her, he never would have found his clan. Without her, he would have given up and left his people to suffer more under the hands of the English.

He looked back at the few who dared to brave the English. “I’ve failed ye,” he said, his voice rough. “And for that I am heartily sorry. I’m ashamed of myself for not being here when ye needed me the most. But I’m here now, with men who are willing to help us and a wife”—he looked down and smiled at her—“a wife who is also willing to fight to reclaim our home.”

Duff stood with his arms crossed, one eye perpetually closed, smiling. The rest were watching, some warily, some with such hope in their eyes that it humbled Colin. “But I need yer help,” he said. “I canno’ do it with the few men I’ve brought with me. We need to work together to get our home and our lands back.” He paused, gathered his breath, and asked humbly, “Will ye help me?”

For a tense moment, no one moved. He felt exposed, standing before them and asking for their help when he had no right to. But to his surprise, they moved toward him as one, all speaking at once, reaching out to him with smiles and some with tears in their eyes.

“Ye can stay with us,” one said.

“Welcome back, MacLean.”

“I’m no’ much of a fighter these days, but I’ll do what I can.”

“My Mary, she can cook for yer men.”

“We’ll be happy to help in any way we can.”

They tugged on him, patted him, touched him. Maggie was torn away from him, and when he looked over, he saw they were doing the same to her. She was smiling and trying to speak to each in turn. She didn’t look like the lady of the manor, but she was acting like one, and he couldn’t have been more proud of her.

“Tell me what ye know.” Colin and Duff were sitting in Robert MacLean’s small hut. Robert had offered his home to Colin and Maggie. He’d insisted, actually. Told Colin that he would move in with his daughter and her family for the time being. Maggie had graciously accepted when Colin would have declined the kind offer. He was more than willing to sleep outside and not put Robert out of his home, but Maggie had whispered to him that it would be a dishonor to Robert if he refused.

Maggie was sitting at the table, her cheek resting in her hand, her eyes drifting closed, but she insisted on being here, beside him, all the way.

Of all people, Duff would know the lay of the land. He would know where the English had infiltrated, how many there were, and what they were up to. Duff was in charge of Colin’s smuggling operation: He knew every cave, every inlet, every rock, and every crevice on and off MacLean land. Colin trusted him almost as much as he trusted Sutherland.

“Things are no’ good,” Duff said gravely. “Feckin’ sassenach took it by force. The people put up a valiant fight to keep it, but they were doomed from the beginning’. The bastard lobsters were better equipped and had far more guns than we did.”

Colin grimaced. “What about the smuggling?”

Duff sat up straighter and grinned. “The bastards haven’t caught us yet. We’re still pullin’ in shiploads of wine and tea and fine silks. I’ve made half a dozen trips to France to speak to our supplier and find more spirits. No’ much use for fine silks nowadays, but I got a cave full of ’em.”

Colin grinned. “Leave it to ye to continue on in the face of adversity. But Duff, I would have understood if ye’d stopped the operation and moved on.”

Duff shot Colin an angry scowl. “Is that the thanks I get for risking my bloody arse for ye? Ye put me in charge of the smuggling, and that’s what I did.”

“Ye have my thanks, man. Ye know that. I just thought—”

“That I’d turn tail and run? I do no’ do that.”

“I have no words that will adequately portray my gratitude.”

Duff slumped back and rubbed his face. “Damn, man. It’s sorry I am. My mouth runs away from me at times. It’s no’ yer fault ye were imprisoned and weren’t here.”

It
was
Colin’s fault, and it had little to do with being imprisoned and everything to do with being a coward.

“We have caves full of illegal goods,” Duff said. “I’ve tried to move most of ’em, but the limey bastards patrol everything and have eyes everywhere. There’re people ye canno’ trust that ye’ve been able to trust in the past.” Duff pounded his fist on the table, causing Maggie to jump. “Damned sheep-shagging traitors.”

“Duff,” Colin warned with a tilt of his head toward Maggie. But he wasn’t certain why he was protecting Maggie from such language, because she giggled, causing Duff to wiggle his eyebrows at her.

Duff turned serious again. “Do no’ trust Balgair.”

“Balgair?” Balgair had been one of his father’s best friends. Colin was surprised that the man had turned traitor.

“And the alemaster. She’s lifting her skirts for that bugger English captain.”

“Dailis?” Colin had a flash of memory of taking Dailis against the side of the alehouse when he was a young lad, randy as all hell. He shouldn’t be surprised that Dailis would be raising her skirts for the English, seeing as she raised them for every cock that walked by. He hoped she’d given Abbott a most horrendous disease. Would serve the both of them right.

How many others had given up on him and put their lot in with the English because it was a live-or-die choice? Could he really blame Balgair and Dailis for choosing safety?

“Do ye have wine?” Maggie asked.

“Aye. Plenty of wine,” Duff said. “Do ye want some?”

“No’ for myself. How many men does the sheep-shagging Abbott have billeted in Castle MacLean?”

Duff looked off into the distance as if mentally calculating, not at all surprised to hear the lady of the castle call a man a sheep shagger. For all of Duff’s swarthy looks and foul mouth, he was one of the best mathematicians Colin had ever met. Even better than Colin’s tutors.

“About a hundred,” Duff said.

“A hundred for a small holding such as this?” Maggie asked in surprise.

Duff shot Colin a quick look, and Colin had to suppress a smile. “She’s small but she’s mighty, and ye best no’ cross her or ye’ll find her dagger in yer back,” he warned Duff.

Maggie smiled and patted Colin’s hand. “I’m no’ all that bad. I promise ye.”

“She fought at Culloden and was imprisoned with me at Fort Augustus,” Colin said with no small amount of pride.

Duff eyed her up and down. “Ye’re a wee’un,” he said.

“I am,” she admitted in all seriousness.

“Why are ye asking about the wine?” Duff asked.

“Because if the bloody English have one weakness, it’s good wine. Good French wine.”

Duff considered her for a moment. “Get to ’em through their stomachs, eh?”

“Exactly.”

“I like it.”

“Ye’re proposing getting them pissing drunk and then storming the castle while they’re in their cups.”

“I was thinking to poison the wine,” she said.

Duff hooted and slammed his palm on the table. “I like it. I do no’ like wastin’ good French wine on those bastards. But the fewer English bastards on our land, the better.”

“Ye do no’ like it,” she said, looking at Colin.

“If we kill them, then we’ll have the entire English army at our front door, ready to arrest us.”

“I still say the fewer English bastards, the better,” Duff muttered with a little less conviction.

“I see yer point,” Maggie said.

“I still say—”

Colin held up his hand to silence Duff. “I know what ye say, but we have to think of everyone, and I’m no’ willing to put all these lives on the line.”

Duff harrumphed but remained silent.

“We can still use yer plan,” Colin said to Maggie. “We can put something in the wine to make them sleep.”

“No’ everyone will drink the wine. No one will drink it if they know it comes from a MacLean,” Duff said.

“Then we’ll send in someone they trust.”

“There is no one they trust,” Duff said. “They’re a sneaky, untrustin’ lot of bloody, numpty sassenachs.”

“What we need to determine is what will put them to sleep. If we can get the guards unconscious, we can get in there.”

They talked long into the night. Eventually, Maggie gave in to her need to sleep; her head slid down her arm to rest on the table while Colin and Duff discussed the situation.

Duff left very late, and Colin gently picked Maggie up and carried her to the bed to lay her down.

“Are ye coming to bed, too?” she mumbled as she snuggled into the covers.

“Just let me blow out the candles and bank the fire.”

Colin figured she was asleep before he’d taken two steps. He made certain the cottage was secured, then kicked off his boots and crawled into bed, taking her warm, slim body in his arms and pulling her close to him.

Her warm, hard-muscled leg slithered up his as she turned into him and planted an openmouthed kiss on his neck, making him shiver. He was erect instantly, his body tingling, hard and ready for her.

Maggie ran her tongue down his neck and across his chest. Her fingers skimmed his stomach, causing him to suck in a breath. Unerringly, those fingers found the head of his erection, and she ran the pad of her finger across it. She made a purring sound, as if pleased with what she’d found. Feather-light, her fingers brushed his tip until he was groaning and thrusting his hips upward, searching for a stronger stroke that would ease this torturous ache. As if sensing his desire, Maggie played him like a fine instrument, barely touching him until he was begging.

“Please,” he gasped. He was burning with the need to grind his cock into her hand, but every time he thrust upward, her hand danced away, causing him to grind his teeth in frustration and curse beneath his breath.

Maggie chuckled and he cursed again.

But he could give as good as he got. He found her moist center and flicked the nub hidden in her folds. She gasped and moved her legs farther apart to accommodate him, but he wasn’t giving in that easily. He played her game as easily as she did, barely stroking her until she was begging for more and her juices were running out of her. Her hand had fallen away from his erection, so caught up was she in the pleasure he was giving her.

Colin had lost everything in his life. His family was all dead, his home was overrun by the English, but he had one thing: a wife who refused to give up on him, who seemed to find value in him when he couldn’t find value in himself. No matter what he did or what he said, she stuck by his side. He wasn’t certain why; he didn’t believe that he deserved someone like Maggie Sinclair, now MacLean. And at the moment he refused to think about the whys and wherefors.

He flipped her over onto her back and smoothly entered her, closing his eyes as he thrust forward and felt her moistness close around him. It was like a warm, safe hug but infinitely better.

She wrapped her legs around him, holding him tightly to her, and he knew that home wasn’t a pile of stones or a bed to lay his head on. Home was Maggie. He still wanted to take his castle back to prove to his dead father and brothers that he was worth something and to give his clansmen the safety and security they deserved.