My Daring Highlander (42 page)

“Well, of course he is, but… what of
it? I’ve seen many handsome men before.”

“Oh, you have? I didn’t realize you
were so worldly.”

“Cousin Genevieve had feasts and
dances. I met a few handsome men.”

“Do tell.”

“There is naught worth
telling.”

When Talia’s gaze wandered back to
Fraser, Seona knew precisely what her sister was experiencing.
Obviously, she was intrigued by Fraser, his tall, lean, muscular
body. A blue-eyed, black-haired devil with a quick, charming smile.
Any lass with eyes would be drawn to him.

Seona simply prayed her own blue-eyed
charming husband would be safe.

***

Keegan joined the MacKays and
MacKenzie’s at the top of the hill, all of them on foot. Rebbie’s
pistol glinted in the sunlight. Holding targes before them, all the
men formed a line, awaiting the approaching Murrays. Keegan fully
expected bloodshed.

“Archers, ready yourselves,” Keegan
yelled. “They could have pistols.”

As the riders drew closer, Keegan
recognized Chief Murray, traveling at the front and center of
twenty other men. Their numbers were about even. Besides, each of
the MacKays and MacKenzies could easily take out two
men.

The Murrays halted a hundred feet
away.

“What have you done with my daughters,
you knave?” Murray shouted.

“They are safe from you,” Keegan
yelled back. “You should be ashamed of yourself, abusing the young
ladies, leaving their faces black and blue.”

“They are my daughters and I will deal
with them as I see fit! ’Tis none of your concern.”

“I made it my concern.”

“We all have,” Rebbie said. “I’ll be
reporting you to higher authorities for violently punishing your
daughters for no reason. You will find yourself in the
tolbooth.”

Murray’s face reddened but he held his
tongue. Rebbie was the only man here Murray respected and feared.
Could he talk him into backing away? Murray slowly ran his gaze
over each one. Abruptly, he drew his sword and brandished it
overhead. “Kill them!” he commanded his men.

Keegan tensed, hoping the chief would
challenge him personally.

A few of Murray’s clansmen hesitated,
appearing startled by his words. Others pulled out their
swords.

The MacKays and MacKenzies did the
same, the swishing of metal blades against leather scabbards
sounded ominous in the Highland breeze.

Two pistol shots exploded.
Arrows whizzed through the air and
thunked
against targes. Metal clanged
and horses neighed.

One of Murray’s personal bodyguards
charged Keegan on foot, slashing his blade this way and that. A
surge of battle-lust pounded through his veins, making him relish
the challenge. Glad to see he was taller and outweighed his
opponent by a couple of stone, Keegan easily deflected his blade
and launched a counterattack. After a few more parries and thrusts,
Keegan’s blade stabbed through the man’s leather armor and into his
chest. He fell to the ground, screaming.

Saints!
Keegan turned and noticed that three other enemies
had already been felled.

“Retreat!” commanded a younger man who
sat on a horse beside Murray.

Some of the Murray clansmen turned
tail and ran, while others kept fighting.

“Are you mad, Malcolm?” Murray yelled
at him. “Why are you not fighting?”

“Why are you not, uncle?”

Chief Murray charged into the fray on
horseback. Malcolm simply shook his head and remained where he was.
He was Murray’s nephew? Why was he not helping his
clansmen?

Chief Murray struck two ineffectual
blows at one of the MacKay guards, then directed his horse toward
Keegan, attempting to trample him into the ground. Keegan leapt out
of the way, then slashed his sword across Murray’s leg. The man
yelled out. Blood saturated his trews.

“Bastard!” He turned around, his horse
rearing and pawing the air. The more Murray tried to draw the
animal under control and head it back toward Keegan, the more
unruly it became.

Clearly, the horse was not a trained
warhorse, but some fancy expensive breed intended for pleasure
riding or racing.

The horse screamed and
bolted.

Murray shouted, yanking on the reins.
The animal bucked, tossing him into the air. Murray turned a flip
and crashed to the ground.

“Saints,” Rebbie muttered. “That must
have hurt.”

The old man didn’t move.

Malcolm rode to where he’d landed and
swung down. Murray’s other clansmen ran toward him, a few of them
falling to their knees around him. Others shouted. One headed back
toward the MacKays.

“Halt!” Malcolm yelled, and the man
obeyed. ’Twas a good thing or he would’ve been a dead man. All was
silent. Still, the old man didn’t move.

Malcolm stood, muttered something to
his clansmen, then strode toward Keegan.

“Ready yourselves,” Keegan told those
closest to him and gripped his sword tighter.

The man stopped ten paces away. “Chief
Murray is dead.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chief Murray is
dead.
Malcolm, around thirty summers with
dark hair and dark eyes, had uttered the words calmly. Keegan had
expected a mad attack, but nothing about this man appeared
threatening. He had not drawn his sword or any weapon.

Speechless, Keegan eyed him for a few
moments. “I’m sorry to hear it,” he finally said, though ’twas a
lie.

“I’m not. The man was a monstrous
bastard.”

What the devil? Keegan frowned and
sent Rebbie an inquiring glance. Had they both heard the same
thing? “Are you Chief Murray’s nephew?” Keegan asked.

“Aye. And his heir. I’m Malcolm
Murray.” He approached and offered his hand.

Keegan hesitated, wondering if this
was a trick. Watching Malcolm closely, he sheathed his broadsword
but kept his dirk and targe in his left hand, ready for
use.

Keegan shook his hand.

“Are you the one who married Seona?”
Malcolm asked, stepping back.

“Aye.”

“I admire you for standing up to him
and rescuing Seona. Talia, too. For years, I feared that he would
kill them before they ever married and escaped him. We all believe
he killed their mother, though there is no proof. I tried to help
the girls, but he wouldn’t allow me to live at the castle nor even
visit very often. Needless to say, we didn’t get along. Where are
the ladies, by the way?” Malcolm asked, glancing around.

Going on gut instinct, he believed
Malcolm was telling the truth. “In the cottage.” Keegan motioned
with his head.

“I’d like to have a word with them
before they go.”

Keegan was again stunned. “You don’t
mind if we take them?”

He shook his head. “Whatever they
want. They’ve endured years of torture from that brute. They
deserve some happiness. If they wish to stay at Gillenmor, they are
welcome. Or they can go with you. Since you’ve married Seona, you
will be glad to know she has a generous dowry, including
land.”

Land?
Saints!
Keegan was almost afraid to
believe ’twas true. Not that the land mattered; all he wanted was
Seona. But he had never imagined being a landowner.

“Let’s go talk to them.” He and
Malcolm moved toward the cottage. Keegan intended to stay close at
hand in the event this was a trick and Malcolm meant the ladies
harm. But he didn’t think that was the case.

Boyce stood outside. He banged at the
door before Keegan arrived.

Fraser opened it and stepped out,
eying Keegan and the newcomer. “Is the fighting over?”

“Aye,” Keegan said. “This is the
ladies’ cousin, Malcolm Murray. He wishes to speak to them for a
minute.”

Fraser frowned. “Is he
trustworthy?”

“I believe he is.”

“Do you think I’m mad enough to try
something with all of you so close at hand?” Malcolm raised a brow,
appearing almost amused.

Fraser disappeared back inside, then
brought Seona and Talia out.

“Malcolm! You are here? I thought you
were away in Edinburgh,” Seona said.

“I was, but I returned a week ago.” He
took each of their hands, his face solemn. “Pray pardon, ladies,
but I have sad news. Your da is dead. His horse bolted and threw
him. His head hit a rock.”

Their mouths dropped open. Keegan took
Seona’s other hand, hoping to comfort her. But no tears welled in
either lady’s eyes. And he could certainly understand
that.

“You are chief now,” Talia said to
Malcolm.

“Aye.”

“What do you intend to do with us?”
Seona watched him warily.

He shrugged. “Allow you to do whatever
you wish. You ken I never liked the way your da treated
you.”

“In truth?” Seona asked.

“Aye. I understand you’ve already
eloped with this unruly MacKay lad.” Malcolm grinned.

“I did.” Seona smiled at Keegan, her
face turning pink. And his heart did a wee somersault.

“Well, then, congratulations.” Malcolm
kissed both her cheeks.

“And you won’t make me marry that old
Comyn chief?” Talia asked, her eyes wide with hope.

Malcolm scowled. “Of course not. I
have a better way to deal with that cattle thief than giving him my
cousin to abuse.”

Talia threw herself into his arms and
hugged him, tears streaming from her eyes. “I thank you,
cousin.”

Seona also hugged him. “Aye. Thank
you, Malcolm.”

He stood back, grinning. “You are both
welcome.”

Although Keegan would have preferred
to take Seona toward Dornie immediately, he knew ’twould be best if
she said her goodbyes to her clan and they waited until after her
father’s funeral. That way, her clan and kin would not question her
honor.

After giving the crofter woman all the
silver coins he possessed as a reward for her help, Keegan led
Seona several feet away to talk in private. “I think we should go
back to Gillenmor until after your father’s funeral.”

She nodded, staring down at their
linked hands.

“I’m sorry about your father,” he
said.

“In one way I am, but in another, I’m
not. I’m sad that he never loved us and that he but wanted to use
us as pawns to appease his enemies. I’m also sad that he never
regretted any of the horrible things he did. But I am glad now that
I no longer need his permission to be with you.” Happiness shone in
her dark blue eyes.

Keegan grinned. “We can marry in a
church now, legal.”

“Aye.”

He leaned forward and kissed her lips.
He couldn’t help himself. Several of his clansmen on the hill above
yelled out ribald comments.

He pulled back and chuckled at Seona’s
red face. “You will have to get used to those rogues.”

***

Two days after Chief Murray’s funeral,
Keegan, Seona, Talia, Malcolm, Rebbie, Fraser, Dermott and a couple
more slipped off to a small kirk near a neighboring village a few
miles away.

In her heart, she was already Keegan’s
wife, but ’twas best to also be married by a member of the clergy.
She and Keegan wanted their marriage to be legally recognized
without question.

The whole Murray clan was not invited.
There was unrest among the clansmen because of the former chief’s
death, and Malcolm was still reining in the more unruly
ones.

But he’d made it clear to her that he
wished to see her legally wed before she departed. Her dowry was
eight-thousand merks in gold and silver coins, four horses, since
Malcolm said he didn’t need all the expensive horses her father had
collected. He planned to sell most of them anyway. And a hundred
acres of farm land, here, bordering Malcolm’s holdings. There was
no castle on it, only a few cottages, but the crops would provide
some income.

All the papers had been signed. Now,
Seona and her family members waited outside the charming small
chapel, almost hidden amongst the trees. She held a bouquet of
bluebells tied with a yellow ribbon. When Keegan had presented them
to her earlier, tears had gathered in her eyes.

“Wait! Wait!” Aunt Patience trotted
along the flagstone pathway, near out of breath, her face red.
MacMillan followed behind her.

“Och, nay,” Talia whispered beside
her.

“What is she about?” Malcolm
muttered.

Seona prayed her aunt wasn’t going to
cause a fuss.

“I have to be here for
this.”

Seona frowned. “You’re not going to
try to stop me?”

“Nay. You deserve happiness.” She gave
Seona an awkward hug then stood back, tears glistening in her eyes.
“I’m sorry I was so… harsh and uncaring before. I only did it
because of your father. He’d threatened me. If I’d let you
associate with any man he wouldn’t approve of, he would’ve turned
me out on the muddy street without a shilling to my name. I hope
you can forgive me.”