Read Bride of the Black Scot Online
Authors: Elaine Coffman
Bride of the Black Scot (9 page)
The man swept his bonnet off his head and dipped toward her
in a low, mocking bow. “Robert MacAlpin at your service. Now, if ye will be so
kind as to settle yourself behind my son, Calum, we will be off.”
She felt as if frigid air had seeped into her bones. Her
blood ran cold. Tears gathered in her eyes with a sudden rush. She looked from
MacAlpin toward Stephen, just as a younger man with the same red hair and beard
rode toward her.
Stephen’s voice rang out. “Touch her and I’ll kill you!”
What happened next passed with such rapidity that it was no
more than a blur. A clammy coldness gripped Juliette as she watched Stephen
charge, saw the flashing arc of a broadsword as a rider seemed to come out of
nowhere and cut a gash in Stephen’s arm before the flat side smashed against
his head.
Juliette screamed. At that same moment an arm lashed out to
encircle her like a band of steel, and she felt herself being hoisted into
midair and thrust across a saddle.
Her abductor shouted, his horse lurching forward and
breaking into a hard gallop. The thundering repeat of horses’ hooves came
behind them, shaking the earth and sending a throbbing pain through her head.
The last thing she saw was Stephen going down.
Consciousness returned, and with it came the awareness of a
sticky wetness seeping onto his face. He felt the stabbing pain and put his
hand up, feeling the blood oozing from a wound on his head.
Stephen opened his eyes, feeling the burning throb of the
cut on his arm as Angus kneeled over him, tying his arm with a bandage. The
fuzziness in his mind cleared, and with it came the blinding reminder that
Juliette had been taken.
He tried to rise, but Angus and Dougal held him down. “Easy
lad. Let me finish binding this,” Angus said.
“Juliette?”
“They took the lass. Did you get a look at them?”
“MacAlpins.”
“Aye. I thought as much,” Angus replied, tying a knot in the
bandage he put around Stephen’s head. “There you go, lad. ’Tis the best I can
do until we get you home.”
“Help me up,” Stephen said, closing his eyes and gritting
back the pain.
“You dinna plan to go after your lass now, do you?” Angus
asked.
“Aye, as soon as I can stand.” With Angus’s help, he rose,
wobbling, to his feet. “Was anyone else hurt?” he asked, looking around at his
men.
“No,” Dougal said. “They were gone by the time we got there.
We came as soon as we heard your lass scream.”
“We canna go after her now. We will need more men,” Angus
warned.
“I ken they have taken the lass for ransom,” Dougal said. “They
willna harm her.”
“Aye,” Angus said. “She will be well cared for.”
“I am no worried about that as much as I am worried they
will try to marry her off to one of their own,” Stephen said.
“Considering the way she feels about you, she wouldna allow
that to happen. Dinna fret, lad. Your lassie is smarter than you credit. She
will find a way to hold them off. Mayhap we could trade Edith for her.”
Stephen saw Angus’s smile and knew he was trying to lighten
the situation. He grimaced, fighting back dizziness, refusing to acknowledge
the truth of Angus’s words.
“I suppose the best thing would be to return to Craigmoor…at
least for now,” Dougal said. “It’s only a half day’s journey from here.”
“Aye, I ken that would be wise, considering Stephen is
bleeding like a lanced boar and can barely stand. I ken it will be a while
before he will think with a clear head. A week of rest will serve him better
than rash actions.” To Stephen he said, “Dougal is right, lad. The MacAlpins
willna harm the lass. She is worth more than a year’s reiving.”
“I willna wait,” he said. “I will go after her now. I only
need time to gather the men. I am fine,” Stephen said and fainted dead away.
Stephen spent the next week at Craigmoor Castle, recovering
from his wounds.
Hearing of their laird’s condition, the men were worried,
their faces grave. The MacAlpins had taken their chief’s lass. They would not
rest until they had the lass back. Knowing the Black Scot would have need of
them when he was better, his men readied themselves, honing their skills with
the same steadfast devotion they gave to caring for their weapons.
As the week passed, Stephen tried more than once to go after
Juliette. The first time, he was too weak and passed out. The second time, he
pulled the stitches from his arm. The third time, he punched Dougal in the jaw.
The fourth time he found himself tied to the bed. His bellowing rage assured
the Gordon clansmen that their leader was on the mend. Their spirits lightened.
Their chief would soon be strong enough to go after his
lass.
On a mist-shrouded morning Stephen and his men set out for
MacAlpin land. They had spent the previous evening in the chapel, listening to
the minister’s prayers for the safety of their hides and the success of their
mission. If all went well, they would retrieve their lass and be back at
Craigmoor within a few days, ready to celebrate a wedding.
They had ridden less than half a league in a heavy mist that
turned to rain, when a rider suddenly emerged from the thick mist before them,
surprising Stephen, who reined in his horse with such sharpness the black beast
reared, pawing the air.
“Who goes there?” Stephen shouted.
“A MacAlpin,” the man called back.
Stephen drew his claymore with a
woosh
, hearing a
similar sound as his men did the same. “You are a little beyond the boundaries
of MacAlpin land. Are you lost, or a fool?” Stephen answered.
“Neither,” the man answered. “We are on our way to Craigmoor
Castle. We have business with the Black Scot.”
“And what business would that be?”
“We wish to return something that belongs to him,” the man
replied, coming closer.
A long column of riders emerged from the mist behind the
rider. Stephen recognized Robert MacAlpin in the front. Juliette rode beside
him.
The MacAlpin drew rein when he saw Stephen. “We have
something to return to you, Stephen.”
Stephen looked at Robert, then rested his gaze upon
Juliette, satisfied that she looked well. “So I hear.”
“May we come forward?”
“You may send the lass forward,” Stephen said. “Return her
and you may go in peace, with no bloodshed.”
“I would have a word with you before I hand the lass over to
you,” Robert said.
“And you think I should trust you?”
“Do you have any choice? You want the lass, I ken.”
“Aye,” Stephen said, then he nodded and rode forward,
meeting Robert MacAlpin at the midpoint of the clearing between them.
“Are the MacAlpins now taking women into battle to act as
their shield?” Stephen asked.
Robert smiled. “I canna blame you for thinking that, lad,”
he said, “for if I told you the truth, you wouldna believe it.”
Stephen remained silent.
“After we took the lass from you at the abbey, we were attacked
by the MacBeans. Seems they thought they had a claim upon the lass as well.”
“Go on.”
“My only son and heir, Calum, was wounded. The blow would
have been a mortal one, if your lass hadna ridden her horse into the MacBean
deflecting his blow. While we continued to fight, she stanched the bleeding and
bound Calum’s wound with her petticoat. If it hadna been for the lass, he no
would have lived.”
“And you rode all the way over here to tell me that?”
“Aye, and to bring the lass back to you.”
“You are returning her, simply because she saved Calum’s
life?”
Robert looked a bit uncomfortable. “Weel, that and the fact
that…God’s bones, lad, I dinna ken the lass was so much trouble. She has a
tongue on her, she does. In truth, I never knew anyone who could talk so.”
Stephen was finding it hard not to laugh. So, the MacAlpins
found her to be a troublesome lass. At least he spoke the truth. But a MacAlpin
was a MacAlpin and could not be trusted. Stephen forced a stern countenance.
“So, you are bringing the lass back?”
“Aye, with my blessings.”
“And how much do you ask for your kind gesture?”
“You wound me, lad. I ask nothing in return. In truth, I
only wanted to show my gratitude, so I granted the lass anything she wished,
thinking she would wish to be re turned to her family in England. To my
surprise, she asked to be taken to you at Craigmoor.”
His words pleased Stephen, but still he did not trust him.
“What is your real motive, Robert?”
“As God is my witness, I came only to give the lass safe
conduct to your keep.” With that, Robert turned in his saddle and waved
Juliette forward. A moment later, she galloped up to them.
She smiled when she reached Stephen’s side. “I did not think
I would have the good fortune to see you so soon. How have you been, m’lord?
Are you recovered?” she said, her gaze traveling over him, as if each part of
him were dear to her.
He smiled back. “Well enough,” he said, returning her
inspection. “And you, lass? Did they harm you in any way?”
“I am fit, as you can see, m’lord. They extended every
kindness to me.”
“Except the kindness of leaving you in our care to begin
with.”
“Well, they regret that bit of doing and are anxious to make
amends. Have they not shown it by this gesture?”
“I will answer that if we make it as far as Craigmoor without
being attacked from the rear.”
Robert laughed. “You are a distrustful lad, but I ken the
way of it. Take your lass. She has already formed an attachment for you. God
knows, I heard of it often enough.”
MacAlpin laughed and whirled his horse around. A moment
later, he joined his men at the edge of the clearing. The sun broke through the
mist, striking his red hair and turning it the color of fire. As he rode past,
the MacAlpin warriors turned and followed him into the trees.
Stephen looked at Juliette, thinking he had never seen
anyone who more resembled a drowned rat, or anyone more dear to him.
She put a hand to her wet head. “I fear I am a mess, m’lord.
It is not how I would have desired you to see me for the first time in many
long days.”
He kept his mouth tight, but knew the pleasure he felt at
the sight of her showed in his eyes. “Are you trying to tell me that you missed
me?”
“Yes, m’lord. That is exactly what I am saying. Did you not
miss me as well?”
“Aye,” he said. “I found I didna enjoy stripping for my bath
half as much as when there is a certain lass about to spy on me.”
“Then I shall endeavor to spy on you often.”
“I shall give you the opportunity soon.”
“It cannot be too soon to suit me,” she said, seeming to
take delight in Stephen’s laugh.
“Am I to believe Robert then? Is it true you fair talked the
MacAlpins to death?”
“I fear that is the truth, m’lord, but it was not without a
purpose. The MacAlpin is not much of a talker, you see. He rarely says a word
until after the evening meal.”
“Aye, Angus says he is like a bagpipe. He never talks ’til
his belly is full.”
She laughed and he found himself drinking in the beloved
sight of her. “I have missed you, Juliette.”
She smiled. “But you said I was a troublesome lass,” she
replied.
A smile played about his mouth. “Aye, that is the part I
missed most.”
“I think we shall get along, m’lord.”
“I
know
we shall,” he said. Then, holding out his
hand toward her, he added, “Come, lass. Let us go home.”
“Home,” she said, placing her hand in his. “I like the sound
of that.” With a teasing smile, she asked, “Which way is home, m’lord?”
Stephen barely had time to nod in the direction of his men
when Juliette said, “I’ll race you.” Kicking her horse into a gallop, she rode
toward the group of astonished Gordons.
For a moment, he watched her ride, then he turned his horse
around and dug in his spurs until the black beast leaped forward. “You are
still a troublesome lass,” he called out to her.
“Aye, and you like it,” she shouted back.
“Aye,” Stephen whispered. “I do at that.”
They were married in the chapel at Craigmoor Castle a few
weeks later, Lady Juliette Pemberton becoming the bride of Alexander Stephen
Gordon, the Seventh Earl of Gordon, Laird of the Gordon clan.
As the minister said the words that joined her to him
forever, Juliette was reminded that good things do come to those who seize the
opportunity. With a satisfied sigh, she realized she had fulfilled her destiny.
She had become the bride of the Black Scot.
But in her heart, she knew she would always be simply
Stephen’s wife.
Long before she began writing novels, Elaine Coffman taught
elementary school and language and learning disabilities, never dreaming that
she would one day embark upon a new and exciting career as a novelist. Elaine
began writing in 1985 and her first book was published in 1988, and she
captured the hearts of fans everywhere when she created magnificent Mackinnon
family saga of seven books. Due to reader requests to write about their
ancestors, she is continuing with the Mackinnon – Douglas series, set in
Medieval Scotland.
Literary achievements include four nominations for RT Best
Historical of the Year, three time winner of the RT Reviewers Choice Award,
Best Western Historical of the Year, and the Maggie Award. Her books have been
selected by Doubleday Book Club and Literary Guild, and she was named one of
the top ten romance novelists by the American Library Association’s Booklist.
Her books have appeared on the bestseller lists for the New York Times, Wall
Street Journal, USA Today and Publishers Weekly. She has also been featured in
Entertainment Weekly, People Magazine and a leading cultural magazine in Egypt.
Always in demand as a speaker, she has spoken to clubs and organizations from
coast to coast and has been interviewed by numerous television and radio
stations, including a radio broadcast from the USS Constitution in Boston
Harbor.
When asked why she chose to write historical romance, she
replied, “Because I have always loved history, and wondered where my ancestors
came from.” After several years of research, she traced her family back to
Charlemagne and now belongs to numerous genealogical organizations, including
the Magna Charter Society, Americas of Royal Descent, The Jamestowne Society,
Order of the Thistle, Colonial Dames of the XVII Century, Descendants ofthe
Illegitimate Sons and Daughters of the Kings of Great Britain, The Colonial
Order of the Crown, Daughters of the American Revolution and the Daughters of the
War of 1812.
Elaine welcomes comments from readers. You can find her
website and email addresses on her
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.
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Elaine
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Mackinnons 2: For
All the Right Reasons
Mackinnons 3: Somewhere
Along the Way
Mackinnons 6: When
Love Comes Along
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
Bride of the Black Scot
ISBN 9781419949227
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Bride of the Black Scot Copyright © 2014 Elaine Coffman
Cover design by Dar Albert
Cover photography by Period Images Studios, Vitaly Krivosheev,
and Denis Aglichev
Electronic book publication June 2014
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