To Wed A Highlander (32 page)

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Authors: Michele Sinclair

BOOK: To Wed A Highlander
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Leon threw her violently away from him, causing her to fall out of the chair and onto the dirt floor. About to grab her again, he came to a sudden halt, his eyes coldly furious as an evil smile slinked across his lips. Maybe the redheaded viper just needed some persuasion, and he had just the perfect influencers locked across the yard in the great hall.

“Bring her,” he ordered his men and then exited into the courtyard.

Chapter Eighteen

Colin maneuvered down the castle allure, slithering below the walkway on the top of the curtain wall. He glanced back. Dunlop, Drake, and three of his ten commanders were following his lead.

Reentering the castle without alerting anyone to their presence had been fairly simple. Once Conor began the main attack, most of MacCuaig’s men had focused on the battle. Those who had not left the outer gate were easily silenced. Ignoring the sizeable number of soldiers guarding the inner gate, Colin headed toward Forfar Tower. Finding the murder hole cleverly nestled at its base, Colin went inside knowing very few were aware of the steep, narrow staircase leading straight to the tower’s battlements. On top of the tower, Colin encountered two more MacCuaig soldiers and disposed of them quietly.

Crouching low, Colin scooted down the allure until he reached a secret opening to the hidden passageway leading to the Chapel Tower and slipped in.

Hunching down, Colin led his men down the small corridor leading straight to the confessional chambers. For decades, the postern and passageway served as a discreet way for women to visit the Lochlen’s chamberlain. When Alexander’s grandfather dismissed the position and converted the tower to a chapel, the passageway had ceased being used. As far as Colin knew, most clansmen, including the priest, had not even known of its existence. Colin only found out about it after he arrived at Lochlen and spied an odd pattern to the floor of the curtain wall. Colin had asked Alexander about it and agreed to keep it a secret.

About thirty feet from the chamber entrance, Colin stopped cold. A bellow roared from across the courtyard. It was MacCuaig, and he was furious. The little hope Colin was clinging to died. Makenna had not eluded MacCuaig’s capture. Only one person could infuriate Leon that much on his perceived hour of victory—Makenna.

Moving quickly, Colin advanced to the small door and freed the latch frozen from years of nonuse. He looked through the peephole, motioning for his men to wait as he pried the heavy wood slats open and stepped through the doorway. He verified the sanctuary was empty and signaled for his men to follow.

Colin held up a clenched fist and immediately all movement ceased. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Besides the distant clanks of metal from Conor’s attack, Lochlen was eerily quiet. Had it been abandoned?

Colin moved to the chapel’s spiral staircase and descended, indicating for his men to follow but make no sound. Carefully, they emerged out of the tower and crept into the inner yard. Hiding behind a nearby cart of hay, Colin peeked around the tilted box to survey the courtyard. Standing outside Canmore Tower was Leon. Behind him was a fuming Makenna. Surrounding them both were at least a dozen men, maybe more.

One of MacCuaig’s men pushed Makenna forcefully, causing her to lose her step and tumble to the ground. Colin gripped his sword and fought his mounting rage.

He flexed his fingers in an effort to remain coldly detached and methodical as he trained his men to be. It proved to be impossible. Separating oneself from fear to save one’s own life was infinitely different from trying to do so when it was someone you loved who was in danger. The only thing restraining him was knowing that if he attacked now, Makenna would most likely be hurt, possibly be killed. He had no choice but to sit silently and wait for an opportunity to present itself.

Dunlop sat huddled beside Colin with his back against the cart and felt his laird tremble with rage. Twisting carefully, Dunlop peered underneath the cart and into the yard. The blood drained out of his face as he witnessed the source of Colin’s anger.

Dunlop nudged Drake and was about to gesture for him to look when Makenna’s voice rang out clear across the courtyard.

“What about my people?” Makenna demanded, moving to stand up. She brushed the dirt off her gown with the air of a regal queen. Her voice and demeanor were full of calm, but one had only to look into her flashing green eyes to realize the fury within her.

Leon spun around.
“Your
people? You mean
my
people. They will swear allegiance to me, wear my plaid, and pay me the homage I require. If they don’t, they die. I will not bandy about with your prideful clan as your dead Highlander did. I will not tolerate disobedience or disloyalty.”

Makenna gave him a challenging smile. “My Colin is not dead.”

Leon’s face turned a blotchy red. “No, but he soon will be. As we speak, my best men are advancing on him. They will wait until he is vulnerable, and then they will strike. No matter how long it takes, I will see you free to fulfill your true destiny.”

Makenna narrowed her eyes. “And just what do you see my destiny to be?” she asked through gritted teeth.

Leon advanced until she was just inside his arm’s reach. “Why, to
become my wife,”
he announced. Before she could back away, his hand sneaked out, gripped her chin, and held it still while he brutally pressed his mouth against her lips.

Colin’s heart felt as though it were being ripped from his chest. All he could think of was getting to Makenna. He clutched his sword and was about to attack regardless of the dangers when two MacCuaig guards dragged a dead body through the inner gatehouse and into the courtyard. Leon wrenched free and turned away from the sight.

Makenna wiped her mouth off with her sleeve and stared at the dead young baker. The boy had made her laugh with his smile and quick wit. He would never do so again. He had been badly beaten before someone had sliced his throat. Something inside her went cold. “What’s wrong, Leon? The sight of Benny’s blood bother you? Or was it his mangled body that made you blanch like an old woman?”

Leon swung around and came within inches of her face, but spoke loud enough to be heard by everyone in the courtyard. “He deserved it! The fool actually tried to stop me from coming after you.”

“He was just a boy!” Makenna screamed.

“A boy who was fool enough to defend you!”

“Is that why you brought him here? So I can see what you will do to anyone loyal enough to protect me?”

“I thought he might prove the lengths I will go to have you. Several people in the great hall will suffer the same fate as your
Benny
if you or your people continue to fight me.”

Makenna stood wide-eyed realizing MacCuaig was insane. With anyone else, that would be an empty threat, but MacCuaig was ready to act on his promise. She looked about her. The keep was vacant. The only people in sight were MacCuaig and a dozen of his soldiers. She pushed one out of the way so that she could see the doors of the great hall. Several more men were blocking both the main and kitchen exits.

“What did you do?” she asked, her voice hollow at the promised horror of his answer.

“What any self-respecting laird would do. I am not a fool like McTiernay thinking that I can change the hearts of men loyal to another.”

“Loyal to Colin.”

“Not just to him. It seems my pretty little Scottish bride has done what many thought impossible. You learned to run a keep and gained the devotion of all who serve you.”

“What are you going to do with them?”

“That is up to you, my sweet. You see, they are loyal to you. If you agree to renounce your husband and join me, there is a good chance they will follow your lead, and I will let them live.”

Makenna glared at him. What she would give for any kind of weapon. She would die, but so would he. Hope suddenly invaded her thoughts. She did have a weapon. She just needed to get to it.

Makenna eyed him cautiously. For her plan to work, she needed to lead without being obvious. “What about
my
loyalty? Just how do you expect to gain my allegiance, Leon?”

“Mayhap by oppression at first, but I had your heart once before and I will have it again.”

Makenna gaped at MacCuaig incredulously. “Do you truly believe I will reject my love for Colin and accept yours?”

“You are many things, Makenna Dunstan, but you are not obtuse. Your Highlander has left, retaining the one thing I admired about the man—his pride. And while his army is considerably bigger than I was led to believe, he would not be foolish enough to attack my considerably larger forces, especially not for a clan who betrayed him.”

Makenna arched her brows in disbelief. Leon’s eyes glinted like black beetles as his mouth crinkled into a smile. “I can see the surprise and doubt in your eyes. Over two thousand of my men are converging on your stronghold as we speak.”

The blood drained out of Makenna’s face. “But there is no one here but women, old men, and children!”

Leon clucked his tongue. “Left to defend themselves by your Highlander. Would you like to renounce him now? The man you agreed to marry has left you and your clan vulnerable. I assure you, I protect what I value.”

Makenna took a deep breath. Leon MacCuaig was filled with hate and greed, but he was not unintelligent. She would not have multiple chances to make her move. “Colin does as well. I would never renounce him, not even if you forced me in the very bed we share.”

Colin felt Dunlop lurch at her words and grabbed the angry commander pulling him back. Dunlop look confused at his laird’s unnatural calmness. “Why, Colin? Why would Makenna—”

Colin motioned for him to be quiet. He knew his wife was loyal to him. Makenna must have a reason to goad MacCuaig to their solar. Something was there. Something that would give her an advantage.

“You
will
renounce him,
and
in that very room. Do you think the Highlander will come back for you? A wild Lowlander so incredibly different from his beloved first wife?”

At the mention of her sister, Makenna recoiled. Leon pounced. “Ah, forgot about her, did you? Do you honestly think that a man who would love Deirdre, could love you? She was everything you are not. Meek, fair, mild, and soft-spoken. I ask you. Do you believe him when he says he loves you? The man was devoted to her. Never left her side, but with you it seems he leaps at the chance. He is gone for weeks at a time, leaving you to deal alone with your troublesome clan. And now, he vanishes for the Highlands without you. How could he promise his heart to you when he had already given it away?”

MacCuaig was speaking the questions aloud she had so often asked to herself. She forced herself to ignore his sharp barbs. Colin did love her.

Leon saw the pain swim in Makenna’s eyes and knew that he had guessed correctly. “I have always loved you, and yet you spurned my requests for your hand. I have decided to forgive you for marrying McTiernay. I am here now, and you will never have to see him again. You will be with me. You will be
my
wife.”

Makenna jutted her chin into the air and looked at him with mute defiance.

Her silence infuriated him. “I will have you, Makenna,” he whispered, yanking her to his side, gripping her so that his fingers bit into her flesh. “I will have you, and you will beg for my forgiveness before this night is over.” He thrust her away from him. Makenna stumbled again but remained upright and silent praying that God would grant her last wish. “Lock her in the solar. Search it first. I will be there soon to collect what she will give me.”

As she was being dragged away, Makenna finally found her voice and cried out, “And what is that?”

MacCuaig turned back and smirked, “Why, legitimacy, my sweet.”

 

Outside the town wall, Conor moved his men forward as Crawford and Donovan flanked the enemy from opposite sides. They had met and ended the majority of MacCuaig’s army by the loch and now moved toward Lochlen. MacCuaig’s men watched in horror as the coming army grew in size. The Highlander had not left as MacCuaig had promised. And he brought allies.

Screaming they moved to barricade the town wall gate and block the broken sections of the wall. Their only hope was to keep McTiernay’s army outside the town walls until support arrived. Runners had been sent to find other MacCuaig soldiers, but most of the men had scattered throughout the town or were looting within Lochlen’s outer walls.

Dunstan clansmen and women recognized the fear on the MacCuaig soldiers’ faces and began anew in their fight. Their laird had returned.

Gannon glanced around. A blood-spattered battle-axe was on the ground. Grabbing it, he pumped it in the air. “Dunstans! Open that gate! Show our laird that we
are
men of honor. That we know where he belongs. With us!” A roar of renewed purpose erupted just before a loud crack filled the air.

MacCuaig’s men gathered near the gate heard the Dunstan cry followed by a thunderous sound they assumed to be a lightning bolt. Moments later crazed Dunstan men and women came from nowhere attacking with a wild vengeance. Anything that could stab, puncture, or slice was being used. Realizing their numbers would not hold the gate, MacCuaig soldiers attempted to retreat, only to discover that Conor and his men had already breached the troops securing the broken portions of the wall.

Within minutes, Dunstans freed the gate and pulled the portcullises open. Riders from allied Lowland clans crossed the threshold. As understanding of their circumstances crept into their awareness, MacCuaig soldiers tried to flee or surrender. Those who decided to fight the impossible odds died quickly.

Ending the last skirmish, Conor looked around. No more MacCuaigs were in sight. He joined the other lairds to discuss the next move.

“MacCuaig’s men have vanished,” Boyd said, stating the obvious.

“They are here,” Moncreiffe countered with conviction. “And they are numerous.”

“Aye,” agreed Conor. “I saw masses of them pour out of the outer gate as I was fighting.”

Crawford took a deep breath and exhaled in disgust. “They must have seen our numbers and are hiding. They are just biding their time to attack or flee.”

Conor smiled and said, “Then I suggest we change our style from fighting to hunting. Just remember the inner walls of Lochlen are to be untouched until Colin says it is time.”

Boyd moved his men to skirt the western town wall, Crawford did the same for the east, and Moncreiffe guarded the openings so that Conor and Donovan could skirt the northern and southern portions of the town wall. Once all were in place, Conor gave the battle cry and they moved forward investigating every house, every recess, every hiding possibility. The MacCuaigs had a choice—immediate surrender or death.

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