Stolen By a Highland Rogue (Scottish Treasure #1)

Chapter One

"Where the devil is it?" Chief Dugald MacKerrick demanded, staring down into the empty wooden chest in his bedchamber.

He didn't carry the King Richard dagger with him day to day.

'Twas far too valuable. He only placed the sheathed weapon on his belt during ceremonies and celebrations, just as he had a few days ago when his sister, Mairiana, was betrothed to the Lindsay chief's eldest son.

"I don't ken, m'laird," Geordie, his manservant, answered.

"Damnation!" The word exploded from Dugald's mouth, a sense of dread consuming him. Surely, it could not be gone! "Search these chests and the whole of Rornoch Castle if you must."

"Aye, m'laird." Geordie rushed to the nearest chest and knelt to open it.

Through marriage and alliance, the dagger had been passed down from King Robert the Bruce, himself, centuries ago. And long before that, the large ruby in the hilt had belonged to King Richard the Lionheart. Dugald would not be the one to lose the dagger.

He flung open a large mahogany and brass chest in the corner and tore everything from it, his own clean clothing mostly—linen shirts, plaids. No weapons. Annoyance consuming him, he let fly several loud curses. "One of the Lindsay whoresons must have stolen it!"

Aye, now he remembered Chief Angus Lindsay had wanted to buy it, offering him a ridiculously low sum, and then a much higher one. Dugald had informed him 'twas not for sale at any price. Even Lindsay's son, Alec, had eyed the dagger with a spark of greed in his eye.

"What is all the shouting about?" Dugald's twin brother Tòmas barged into the room. His long dark hair in a queue, he was dressed impeccably, as always, in a belted plaid, pressed white shirt and blue doublet.

"The King Richard dagger is gone," Dugald said, rage crawling over him. "Stolen by some damnable miscreant! I always kept it locked in this chest when I wasn't wearing it."

"When did you last see it?"

"After the betrothal ceremony, four days ago."

"Do you think one of the Lindsays stole it?"

"Of course! Who else?"

Unfazed as usual by Dugald's flaring temper, Tòmas answered, "Why would they need it? They're as rich as Midas."

Tòmas' calm logic grated on Dugald's nerves.

"Because the dagger would make them twice as rich.

The ruby alone is worth a king's ransom!

And both Angus and Alec were near drooling over it.

When I told them the dagger was not for sale at any price, they looked vexed and even more determined to have it.

At which time, Angus made a veiled comment about always getting what he wanted.

" The smirking Angus had been kissing the gloved hand of his new, young bride when he'd said it, but Dugald did not mistake his meaning.

He detested the whoreson and now regretted allowing Mairiana to marry into the family.

"But his son is marrying our sister. Surely he would know she could easily identify it as yours if he had it."

That made sense, but still… 'twas telling that the dagger disappeared around the same time the Lindsays departed. "Well, if not them, one of their servants or guards could've done it, looking to sell it to become independently wealthy."

"Indeed," Tòmas said, stroking his freshly shaven, square chin as if in deep thought.

"'Haps Angus intends to sell the ruby from the dagger's hilt in order to keep his new French wife in the latest styles from Paris. Such fancy silks are expensive."

"'Tis a possibility, but the large ruby would not be easy to sell without drawing notice. In order to obtain its worth, he would have to approach only the very wealthy, a member of the nobility, perhaps. Word would travel."

Dugald sucked in a breath, trying to dispel his fury and watched Geordie search the remaining trunks. He even looked beneath the giant oak bed.

Of he and Tòmas, Dugald was the eldest by a few minutes, but he'd always felt his twin should share in the leadership of the clan.

And he did. Tòmas was his main advisor and they often made important decisions together.

Tòmas was the voice of reason, while Dugald wanted to charge in and attack the offending party.

He didn't understand how Tòmas could be so patient.

The dagger was not only Dugald's, but it also belonged to Tòmas and the whole clan.

It mattered not to him that history had long since forgotten the significance of the legendary dagger and its link back to Richard the Lionheart of England.

For Dugald, 'twas the most important object his father had entrusted him with before his death.

His father's trust was no small or easy thing to attain.

Dugald had earned it by slow degrees only a short time before his da had passed three years before.

During Dugald's wild and reckless youth, his da had often voiced his reservations as to whether Dugald would make a good chief because he acted first and asked questions later.

If Dugald allowed the dagger to be stolen so easily, then he was not worthy of his father's trust. He'd had to prove himself capable one time, and now he would have to do it again.

"Given that we've just made an alliance with the Lindsays, we must handle this situation carefully," Tòmas said.

Dugald ground his teeth, the urge to launch an attack against the guilty party nearly overwhelming him. His brother was right, of course, but Dugald didn't want to handle anything carefully. His blood rushed too rashly through his veins for him to be careful.

"And how do you propose we do that, oh wise one?" Dugald asked. Though his sarcastic tone was meant to needle his brother, he also had to admit that Tòmas often came up with canny solutions to problems.

Tòmas smirked and lifted a brow. "I will figure something out. I always do."

"Well, I hope you figure it out with all haste. Geordie and the other servants—indeed everyone in residence—will search the castle and stables. If 'tis not found, I'm chasing down the Lindsays. You will remain here and watch over the clan in my stead, brother." He stormed from the room.

"Aye, m'laird!" Tòmas called out after him with much sarcasm.

As usual, Dugald ignored him.

After two hours of every clansmen and servant searching the castle, outbuildings and grounds, no ruby-hilted dagger turned up.

Muttering curses, Dugald mounted his bay, a mean-tempered stallion he called Beast which suited him perfectly.

Two dozen of his best soldiers rode south with him over moors and between mountains.

Chief Lindsay's holdings were east of Perth, but he couldn't let them get that far.

Their large entourage had left two days ago.

Considering the number of women with them, they would travel slowly, whereas Dugald and his men tore through the misty Highlands as swiftly as the red deer they often startled.

Their mounts had great endurance and were used to this pace.

'Twas of vital importance they catch the Lindsays before they reached their home, or he might never see the dagger again.

∞∞∞

"What are you doing here, Dugald?" his sister whispered, sending cautious glances around the common room of the White Ram Inn from the corner table they occupied. A plaid cowl covered most of her dark hair as if she were trying to hide.

Dugald frowned. He and his men had ridden hard the previous day in order to reach Perth by gloaming.

Fortunately for them, dusk arrived late in June.

Last night, he'd had several of his men search the town.

They'd discovered the Lindsays were staying at the White Ram.

Then, he'd sent a missive, asking his sister to meet him in the common room.

For her sake, he hoped to keep peace between the two clans.

Dugald leaned forward and pitched his voice low. "One of the Lindsays stole the King Richard dagger, which has been in our clan for generations, as you well ken."

Mairiana's green eyes widened. "What?" she whispered. "Nay. They would not do such a thing."

"Chief Lindsay tried to buy it from me. When I told him it wasn't for sale at any price, he made a snide comment about always getting what he wanted."

"That doesn't make him a thief. Did you see him take it?"

"Nay. If I had, I wouldn't be talking to you right now, but breaking down his door instead," he said through clenched teeth.

Her beloved Alec could be the thief, but if Dugald accused him, Mairiana might not help him.

He had to keep his wits about him. "Mayhap not the chief, but one of his guards or servants, aye," he stated with firm conviction.

She frowned at him in stunned disbelief.

"I need for you to find out who stole it," he continued.

"I stay with the ladies most of the time. None of them would've taken it. I'm rarely near the guards or male servants."

"Find out from Lady Lindsay whether the chief has a fancy new dagger. I need to find it now, while the Lindsays are here in Perth," Dugald said with more urgency. "If they reach their home, I'll never get it back. You ken how much the dagger meant to Da. 'Twas one of his most valued possessions."

"Aye, of course." Appearing tense, she rubbed her forehead. "But this seems an impossible task."

"Nay, I refuse to believe that. I'll get it back by any means necessary," he said, his voice hardening.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" she asked warily.

"I could take you back home and refuse to let you marry Alec until he ferrets out the knave who stole my dagger."

"Nay!" she said in a loud whisper. "Surely you would not. I love Alec."

Although his sister appeared panicked and he truly didn't want to do such a thing to her, the bottom line was he had to regain his clan's dagger.

'Twas as priceless to him as the Honours of Scotland were to the king.

Dugald shrugged, trying to appear more unconcerned than he felt. "What has that to do with it?"

"You… would be jeopardizing the alliance," she rushed to say.

He leaned forward. "The dagger is more valuable to me than any alliance." And that was the truth.