Highland Flame (Highland Brides) (5 page)

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Authors: Lois Greiman

Tags: #Scottish Romance, #Historical, #Highland HIstorical, #Scotland, #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical Romance, #Highlanders

BOOK: Highland Flame (Highland Brides)
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"I'll do it," said Flanna, turning her glance from the doorway where the first glimmer of light showed on the roiling mists. "If ye promise to make no trouble."

"Trouble?" Roderic grinned. "Me?"

"I know just the pike Troy was speaking of," she warned evenly. "And I swear by all that is holy, if ye break your vow to be peaceable until we reach Dun Ard, I will allow him to stick your head upon it."

Roderic remained silent for a brief moment, then, "Ye've a convincing way about ye, lass," he said, and stepping forward, added, "I accept yer gracious invitation."

 

Chapter 3

 

The night fled, pursued by the pale, worrisome light of morning. Although the heavy mists hid the presence of the traveling band for some time, it finally abandoned them, too, leaving Flame feeling fretful and exposed in the full light of day. But finally, the muted colors of sunset eased her mind. Darkness followed again.

She checked Lochan's speed. Although he had gone nearly twice the distance of the other horses, he easily outpaced the bigger mounts. Flame placed a hand to his smooth neck, trying to absorb his power, his certainty. He had been her companion for many years, and though Troy often said their relationship was uncanny, it was simply the bond formed between a lonely child and a misbegotten beast.

"Almost there, lass," rumbled Troy, pressing up beside her on his great destrier. "Dunna fret."

Flame turned toward her friend, glad of his towering presence. "What makes ye think I fret?"

Troy scowled at the path ahead. "Lochan be switching his tail like a doused wildcat."

Despite everything, Flame laughed. “We do not share every emotion," she assured him. "No matter what ye believe."

"If the beast could talk ye'd have na need for a voice," he said.

Flame drew a deep breath, knowing Troy was trying to take her mind from her worries. "All is well?"

"Aye, lass," he assured her. "Forbes is causing na problems."

"Already, he has caused enough trouble for a lifetime. Shaw's death will not soon be forgotten. But there is little more damage he can do now," she said. The journey south had given her too much time to think, to dwell on the losses they had sustained at the hands of the Forbeses. "Do not forget that his wrists are bound and his weapons taken."

"Dunna disprize the rogue, lass," Troy warned quietly.

"And what do ye mean by that?"

"I have been hearing tales of the lad's deeds for a long while. I credited them to a good storyteller's imagination. But now that I meet the man, I wonder if they are na true." He turned solemnly toward her. "I say again, dunna disprize his abilities."

 

"So this be me new home?" asked Roderic.

The moon had risen and shone on the white stone of Dun Ard's square tower. From its battlements, the guards had an unobstructed view of the country round about. The uppermost floor of the interior offered only slightly less of a view, and little more comfort.

"Luxurious quarters indeed," he said, glancing at the bare walls, the stone floor, the narrow windows. "Just as ye promised."

"I did not plan for such a royal visitor as yourself," Flame said. She recognized his sarcasm but refused to be goaded to anger.

"Ah, but of course," Roderic responded. "Ye were expecting Lady Fiona." He shrugged, grinning. "Appears 'tis yer lucky day, for ye got me instead."

Flame watched him carefully. He was a handsome man and glib of tongue. "Ye think a good deal of yourself, Forbes."

"Aye. I do indeed, lass. But..." He dropped the grin to gaze at her earnestly. "I only meant that had ye taken the lady, Leith would na rest until there was naught but MacGowan corpses in all of Scotland."

Flame lifted her chin. "He values her highly then?" It was strange to think that a man as blackhearted and arrogant as Leith Forbes might find merit in a mere woman. The thought disturbed her, as did Roderic's direct stare, but she kept her voice steady. Last evening, abduction and ransom had seemed a worthy idea. This morning they seemed like a fool's worst nightmare. If only she had taken Fiona instead of this golden-haired devil, surely Shaw would still be alive and the Lady Forbes would do as commanded instead of questioning her every order and mocking her every move.

"Aye. He values her well."

"Even above the life of his own brother?" Flame asked. She had honed that particular haughty tone to perfection, but it failed to prick his pride.

Instead, he chuckled low in his throat. "I willna lie ta ye, lass. Leith knows me well and appreciates me sword arm. But if the truth be known, he has me spitting image at his side as we speak. When there are twins, one is always expendable."

Flame narrowed her eyes, searching his words for truth. She, too, had heard tales of Roderic and Colin Forbes. And while word of their devilish good looks and quick wit was never far behind, she had assumed the stories had been embellished. Her assumptions had been wrong.

"There is only one Fiona Rose, and Leith would sooner die than lose her," Roderic said. His tone was almost reverent.

Emotion sparked in Flame's heart. It almost felt like envy, an ache for something she would never know. But she wouldn't dwell on that, for she had made her choices long ago. "If ye have something to tell me, Forbes, say it now."

Roderic took two strides to the right, placing his shoulder casually against the tower's stone wall. For the first time, she noticed his wrists had been singed during his attempted escape. The rope that bound him now must burn like hell's fire. But guilt was a luxury she could ill afford to entertain.

"I am saying, me brother will pay na ransom for
me,
lass," he assured her.

Flame smiled. "Ye will forgive me if I doubt the word of a Forbes?"

"Me?" Roderic's sudden smile easily outshone hers, she knew. "Indeed, I will forgive ye, lass, for I am that kind. But Leith ..." He shook his head, letting his smile drop away. "He is na the forgiving sort. 'Twould be best if ye set me free afore ye incur his wrath."

"But did ye not just say he will not care that ye've been taken?" she asked sweetly, thinking she had found a flaw in his reasoning.

"Nay, I didna, lass. I said he would na
pay
ta get me back."

"Then do ye suggest that we simply forget yer sins against us?" she asked.

"Ah, yes." He shifted his weight slightly, causing his brooch to glimmer in the light from the open window. The ornament that pinned his plaid to his shirt was nearly as big as her fist. It was beautifully crafted in a circle of fine silver gilt and set with tiny chips of bloodstone that winked at her from miniature wildcat faces etched into the metal. Though it was lovely, it did not demonstrate the full wealth of the Forbes clan. His modest attire surprised her. "And so we finally come ta the long-awaited tale of how the horrible Forbeses have turned on their allies, the innocent MacGowans?"

"Ye mock me," she said.

"Aye. I do, lass! For we have done naught ta harm

ye."

She laughed aloud. The sound was hollow in the echoing chamber. "Think ye that the murder of our kinsmen did not wound us?"

He stared at her with narrowed eyes that reminded Flame of the shiny stones set in his brooch.

"Mayhap the Forbeses have so many men that one life seems insignificant. But we MacGowans count every life precious."

"Gawd's wrath, woman!" Roderic stormed suddenly, taking a quick step forward.

Troy moved closer against her side, but Flame only raised her chin.

“I suppose ye deny everything. Even the raids on our stock?" she asked.

"Yer stock?" Roderic had glanced at Troy's hulking form before dismissively dropping his gaze back to hers. "Now I ask meself, lass, why would the Forbeses be raiding MacGowan's scraggly herds when their own are fat and prolific?"

She bristled. "Then ye deny it?"

"Aye, I deny it!" he said, his tone hard, his gaze steady.

"And ye deny taking our horses?"

"Horses?" He barked a laugh and raised his fair brows. "Now that ye mention it, lass, I do remember seeing a sway-backed nag wandering free past Glen Creag. 'Twas a limping, one-eyed beast with but a few breaths left in its body. It did indeed resemble that wee stallion ye rode this day. Might that have been the precious animal ye lost?"

Without thought Flame took a quick step forward. Her hands were suddenly formed to fists and her body was stiff with anger.

"Now, lass," warned Troy, "remember the worthlessness of a dead Forbes."

She stopped less than a full pace from Roderic and glared into his face. How dare he slander the very beasts he had stolen, she wondered, but she kept her temper under control and her tone sweet! "Ye are right, of course, Troy," said she. "But I am beginning to question the worth of a live Forbes as well."

Troy chuckled. "It has been a long and wearisome journey, lass. Go now. Eat. Sleep. I meself will take care of our prisoner so that ye might rest easy."

Weary! It was hardly a strong enough word to describe Flame's present state. Never in all her twenty-one years had she felt so worn and frayed.

"Thank ye, Troy," she said, finally pulling her gaze from Roderic's sharp stare. "Ye are right. I must rest."

"Aye, thank ye, indeed," said Roderic, his tone even. "But I fear the lady forgets her vow ta tell me the tale of the Forbeses and the MacGowans." He paused to pin his gaze to her face. "Or did ye lie about that, too?"

She raised her eyes slowly. "I do not lie."

"Nay?" He laughed again. "Then I would send a priest to issue the last rites to yer sister, for she is surely on death's door by now."

Flame nodded in concession to Roderic's verbal prick. "I should say, I lie only to snakes and vermin. And now I tire of doing so. Watch him well, Troy," she said, turning away. "Ye know how slippery these serpents can be."

 

Roderic awoke at the sound of the door latch being moved. The faint light of morning seeped between the shutters. Sleep had come unbidden, granting unwanted dreams and a stiff neck. He pushed himself to a sitting position and stared at the portal, supported by thick leather hinges. Concentrating, he tried to see what kind of contraption held it shut. But Flanna MacGowan took that precise moment to step into the room and distract him.

She had washed and changed her attire. He had had no way of knowing what a dramatic difference such simple acts would make. Rising slowly to his feet with his back against the wall, Roderic watched her enter.

Her hair was red, not a deep burnt color, but the hue of living flame. It was plaited with a ribbon of white and wrapped about the crown of her head. But it did not lie in quiet submission. Instead, it framed her face in wild, curling wisps of bright color. Her skin was golden as if the sun had kissed it, and her lips were as red and plump as holly berries. But it was her eyes that held his attention. They were as green as stained window glass, clear and bright and luminous. Her tall, statuesque body was garbed in a fine forest green gown struck through with threads of bright yellow.

She drew him like dark magic, transfixed him with her eyes, stunned him with her regal features. There seemed no point in denying his reaction to her. "Ye look radiant," he said softly. "And ye honor me."

For an instant, she stood in silence, seeming very young and quite disarmed. But then she laughed as if able to dismiss his flattery with the greatest ease. "Hardly that, Forbes. It happens that we MacGowans do not live like swine... as do some I could name,'' she said, eyeing his crushed and wrinkled garments.

Roderic raised his brows. So this woman would not bend easily to his pretty words. He smiled, welcoming the challenge. "If ye be referring ta me, lass," he said softly, not taking his gaze from her face, "I would be willing ta accept yer help with me bath."

Her lips parted in obvious surprise. Behind her, Troy rumbled a warning, but she lifted a hand to keep him at bay and recovered quickly. "And I would accept your head on a platter," she said sweetly.

Troy chuckled.

Roderic turned his gaze to that stout warrior and scowled. "Truly, lass, though I appreciate yer presence, I must insist that ye tether yer Wolfhound with the other curs when next we meet."

"By the saints!" growled Troy, taking a step forward, but Flame fetched him easily back to her side.

"Did ye not teach me that a dog only yelps if he has no teeth with which to bite?" she asked Troy, though she still held her gaze on Roderic.

"Aye," the old warrior rumbled. "That I did, lass. But this one is bothersome even without teeth."

"Ye want ta see me teeth, Wolfhound?" Roderic asked. He was a patient man by nature, but fatigue was taking its toll, and he was not accustomed to being bested by a woman's sharp wit. He much preferred being adored. Lifting his wrists, he said, "If so, cut loose me bonds."

"I'd rather cut yer throat," Troy commented.

" 'Twould be the MacGowan way," Roderic said, "ta cut me throat without freeing me hands."

"He surely has a wish ta die," deduced Troy, brows lowered.

"I gave ye me vow ta come peaceably. 'Twas an insult ta me that ye bound me wrists just the same."

Just then the man named Nevin appeared in the doorway, holding a meal apparently meant for their prisoner. Roderic glanced at him momentarily before shifting his attention back to Flame and continuing in a softer tone, “Surely I at least deserve the luxury of eating with some freedom. Unless ye wish ta feed me with yer own hand."

For a moment their gazes held, and to Roderic's consternation he found he was holding his breath. But suddenly a dirk appeared in her hand. It was long and deadly and embellished with a square, blood red stone.

Roderic let out his trapped breath and lifted one brow as she approached him. Eyeing the knife, he said, "Mayhaps we should discuss what ye plan ta do with that thing afore ye come any closer."

She advanced. Troy made no objections, though his brows were beetled over his pale blue eyes.

"Did I say something that particularly offended ye?" Roderic asked. " 'Tis a problem I oft have, I fear. But I am na so much the fool as ta fail ta apologize if I am allowed ta see the error of me ways." He lifted his bound hands as if to placate her and kept his expression solemn. But it was not an easy task, for he had finally nudged her from her quiet self-assurance, and that achievement thrilled him.

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