The Highlander's Stolen heart (Macinnes Sisters Trilogy) (3 page)

Read The Highlander's Stolen heart (Macinnes Sisters Trilogy) Online

Authors: Donna Fletcher

Tags: #Historical Romance, #Highlander, #USA Today Bestselling Author

BOOK: The Highlander's Stolen heart (Macinnes Sisters Trilogy)
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Chapter Three

“What do you mean she is gone?” Rogan roared.

“She is nowhere to be found and her horse is gone,” Bertha said.

“I ordered you to take her garments from her,” Rogan snapped as he looked around for his cloak, having recalled leaving it on one of the benches last night.

“I did take her garments and her boots as well.”

Rogan’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head. “Do you mean to say that she has gone off in only a nightdress?”

“The cloak you look for is missing, so she does have that, though she is most assuredly barefoot,” Bertha said with a firm nod. “She certainly is a determined lass.”

“She is going to be a sorry lass when I lay my hands on her.”

“Emma is not your wife,” Bertha reminded.

“Thank God for that.”

“Perhaps,” Bertha said with a shrug, “though it takes a strong woman to flee nearly naked in the rain to go after someone she obviously loves very much.”

“It is well known how close the three Macinnes sisters are and Donald Macinnes confirmed it himself, but Heather is to be my wife and I will come before her sisters. Emma will learn that fast enough.”

Bertha grinned. “Will she now?”

Rogan rolled his eyes. “I need none of your age-old wisdom right now.”

“Later then,” Bertha said, her grin firm, “for you will surely need it.”

Rogan ignored her and shouted to a passing servant to fetch a cloak from his bedchamber. He looked back at Bertha. “You will watch over Da for me.”

“As I always do, though if he does not stop drowning his sorrows in drink he will soon join his beloved Anna, which is what I believe he wants more than anything.”

“It was bad enough losing Mum. I don’t want to lose Da as well, but I am helpless of what to do for him.”

Bertha shook her head. “There is nothing you can do. Your Da will do as he will just as you do, a trait common to the MacClennan men.”

“Are you telling me that I am stubborn?” Rogan asked his brow narrowing, though a slight smile touched his lips.

“You are,” Bertha said her smile spreading, “but you may have met your match in Emma.” She snatched a wrapped bundle off the bench and held it out to Rogan. “Clothes for Emma.”

A heavy frown gripped Rogan, and he snatched the bundle out of Bertha’s hands and stormed out of the keep, a servant hurrying after him with his cloak in her hands.

~~~

Emma reached the injured Macinnes warriors by daylight, though gray skies greeted the morn. Thankfully, the rain had stopped halfway through her ride, leaving her wet but not soaked. She did not care for the scene she came upon. The injured warriors had not fared well through the rain-soaked night. They needed shelter, warmth, and food, and she knew where she would get it for them.

Dunnan appeared the heartiest, his wound minor and his stamina strong. His hands went to help her off the horse, but she shook her head and slid off with ease.

“You will be using that injured arm enough when it becomes necessary. You do not need to waste it on me when I can fare for myself.”

Dunnan’s eyes turned wide as he looked her over.

Emma realized how she must look, her hair hanging in wet strands, her bare feet caked with mud and wearing only a wet nightdress and cloak.

She shrugged. “I had to leave in a hurry.”

Dunnan scowled. “Did someone try to harm you?”

“No, but someone would not let me join in the search for my sister.”

Dunnan smiled. “He will be here soon?”

“He will,” she said with a nod, “and he will insist that I return to his home with the injured, and that I will not do.”

“Then you best be on your way. I will get the men ready to leave.”

“No message from Patience?” Emma asked, though knew it would have been the first thing Dunnan had spoken of, if there had been one.

Dunnan shook his head. “Nothing.”

“You will have shelter, care, and food soon enough. Stay with the MacClennan clan until you hear from a Macinnes. I want to have a quick look at the injured before I leave and let them know they will be safe and tended to soon.”

Dunnan joined her as she took time with each warrior, assuring them they would do well and seeing to changing a bandage or two before she was finished.

Dunnan walked her to her horse, though she would not let him help her mount. “You be careful, lassie, and remember the things I taught you about the land. She will keep you safer than people will.”

Emma nodded and, though fear gripped her stomach, she gave Dunnan a nod and took off to search for any signs Patience had left for her, knowing that it would not be long before Rogan caught up with her.

~~~

“She has what?” Rogan asked, shaking his head at the large warrior, not believing what he had just told him.

“Emma has gone to find her sister,” Dunnan repeated.

“You let her go off on her own?” Rogan continued shaking his head. He had never met such a willful woman in his life. No wonder her father had such trouble finding her a husband. Not only was she plain of features, but she was too damn obstinate for any man to want.

“Emma is,” —Dunnan paused and chewed at his lower lip for a moment— “an independent lassie.”

Rogan laughed, though it held a bitter tone and had his warriors and the Macinnes warriors turning their heads to stare at him.

“Mule-headed is more like it,” Rogan said, though giving it thought he realized that Emma was also shrewd. She had known that he would have sent her along with her warriors to his home, so she made certain that the option had been taken from him. But now he had two women to find, three if he counted Patience, though what he knew of her, she was an accomplished warrior in her own right.

“Emma is a good woman and does well by her clan,” Dunnan said loudly.

Macinnes warriors began getting to their feet and the ones who could not were helped by others to stand. While none were in any shape to fight, they all made the effort of showing that they would defend her name and honor regardless of their weakened conditions.

Rogan was impressed. Emma was obviously well thought of by her clan, but then her unique knowledge of the land and animals had greatly benefitted her clan. So, they would be likely to hold her in high regard.

“It would take the devil himself to stop her from searching for her sister,” Dunnan added and the other warriors agreed with nods and shouts.

It was clear that the Macinnes warriors were letting him know that they would not take kindly to him preventing Emma from joining in the search for her sister, but then Rogan did not take well to threats.

“If Emma can best the devil, then she has the right to search for her sister,” he said loud enough for all to hear and the MacClennan warriors smiled.

Dunnan did not take well to his remark and turned to walk away.

“I am not finished,” Rogan said, stopping him.

Dunnan turned back around reluctantly.

“Carts have been brought to carry your wounded back to my home where you all will be cared for until you are well enough to return home.”

“I was told to wait there until I hear from a Macinnes.”

“Then wait you shall,” Rogan said and took a step closer to the man, “though make no mistake, my word is law there and if I say otherwise you will obey.”

Dunnan nodded, not fool enough to argue with the chieftain. He had heard stories about Rogan MacClennan and what a fierce and fearless warrior he was. And from the look and demeanor of the mighty warrior they appeared to be true.

A tall, slender warrior, with long brown hair and fine features approached Rogan.

“Did you find her tracks, Liam?” Rogan asked.

The warrior nodded. “It is an easy enough trail to follow.”

“Not good,” Rogan said, “if we can follow her trail so easily than others can as well.”

“There were no signs of anyone following her,” Liam confirmed.

Concern for Emma had Dunnan speaking up. “There had been no signs that we were being followed before the attack. They came out of nowhere, some dropping from trees, others appearing as if they materialized out of thin air, they were upon us so fast. And once they had Heather, they all vanished, even the injured ones.”

“Are you saying that the attack was for the sole purpose of abducting Heather?” Rogan asked the suggestion difficult to believe.

“What other reason could there be? They took nothing, only Heather, and if they were after women, why not take Patience and Emma as well?” Dunnan argued.

Rogan did not like what he heard. If that was so, then this was no random abduction. It had been planned. But why only take Heather? For now, he could only ponder the disturbing questions, time being of the essence in his search for Heather. The more time he wasted, the more difficult it would be to find her. He needed to locate her trail and track down the culprit who had had the audacity to capture his intended and make him pay and bring Heather home safely.

“Liam, set us on the right trail,” Rogan ordered, and then turned to shout. “We leave now.”

He and his warriors mounted their horses in minutes, and after orders to his warriors to head directly home and stop for nothing, he and his troop took off.

~~~

Emma had come across a babbling stream, the tracks she had been following having taken her off a well-worn path. While her horse drank, she discarded her cloak and knelt beside the water and got a distorted glimpse of her reflection, which made her look even worse than she already did. Dried mud spotted her face here and there and her hair hung in strings over her shoulders. Her hands were a mixture of dried mud and scratches, and she wished she had remembered to use the salve in her satchel before leaving the stable. The mixture was her own concoction she had scented with lavender and it kept her hands in fine shape, not to mention soft and smelling nice. But she had forgotten about it and now she had no time to care for her hands, or for that matter herself. She looked affright, and she doubted that even a brief washing would change that.

She went to dip her hands in the water when she caught another reflection shimmering just behind hers. It towered over her and the breadth of it made it seem like it was about to devour her.

“You deserve a good dunking in there for disobeying me.”

She released the breath that had caught in her throat, realizing it was Rogan, though there was a threat to his words and for a moment she wondered if he would actually carry through on it. She quickly got to her feet and turned to face him.

Why was it that he seemed larger than last time she saw him? His shoulders appeared broader, his chest thicker and of course muscles rippled everywhere over him. She had to admit that she had not seen many warriors built as powerfully as him. Many were thick and solid, but Rogan was more defined, almost as if he had been sculpted by a skilled craftsman.

She shook her head, chasing away the observation since it seemed to cause a strange stirring in her and focused on what was more important. “Then you would do me a favor, for I require a good washing.”

It took a moment for Rogan to comprehend her response. He was much too engaged in the way her wet nightdress clung to her curvaceous body. Her loose garments had hidden well the treasure beneath. Her plentiful breasts would spill over in his large hands, and such a narrow waist tempted to be stroked. Then there was her full hips and rounded backside that had his hands aching to take hold and squeeze. But the place his eyes lingered the most was the triangle of dark hair between her slim, hard legs, the passageway to pleasure that turned him hard.

With an angry growl, he dismissed his foolish thoughts, and said, “I have garments and boots for you. Clean yourself up, dress, and then we talk.”

“If you have more of the same to say, then do not waste your breath.”

Rogan clenched his hands at his sides. “If you were my woman, I would—”

“But I am not your woman and glad of it I am. I would not want a husband who thought me so dimwitted that he felt the need to dictate to me all the time. My husband will be my partner or I will not wed.”

“Then that will be your lot in life, for there is not a man alive who would wed a harridan like you.”

Emma recoiled, once again feeling as if he had struck her. He not only thought her bad-tempered, but old-looking as well. Did she truly appear aged and unappealing when he looked upon her? She had been called many things through the years that hurt more than if she had been hit with a stone. This was one of them.

Rogan bit at his tongue for his heartless remark. Emma might not share the beauty that her sisters possess, but she certainly was not unattractive. And old she was not, her fine body attesting to that. He was not used to being defied and Emma certainly had a penchant for defying authority.

Emma tossed her chin up and glared at him. “Then I am lucky, for I will be free to live my life as I choose, instead of being saddled with a husband who has not half the intelligence that I do.” She pointed a finger at him. “Now go so I may wash and dress.”

She actually thought herself more intelligent than a man and she was dismissing him like a common servant. Never before this day had he wanted to throttle a woman as badly as he did Emma. Not that he would. After all, she was a mere woman and a powerful man did not raise his hand against the weak. But then Emma had proved herself anything but weak.

Rogan crossed his arms over his chest. “I will turn around, but I will not leave you to your own devises, since I cannot trust you to take off again on your own.”

“I am where I need to be —”

“With me,” Rogan finished, “and you will not go off on your own again or I will bind you and see you sent home on the back of your horse. And do not bother to ask if it is a threat or a promise, for it is both, and you will do well to remember it.” After tossing the small sack of clothes to her, he turned his back, signaling that the discussion was over.

She did not waste her breath arguing with him. He was much too pig-headed to see reason. She got busy washing up as best she could and getting dressed, though she found the garments a bit big and the boots as well. She supposed her clothes had not dried in time and she had been sent another’s to wear. She wished she had taken the time to retrieve some of her own garments before leaving the injured men. But after having checked on the wounded, she could not have spared another moment or she would have risked being caught and sent home. And that had been something she had made sure had not happened, nor would it. Her sisters were counting on her, and she would not let them down.

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