Chapter One
Lennox MacVey
Late summer, 1316, the Isle of Mull
The time had come.
Time for Lennox MacVey to go after the villain who had terrorized him years ago or continue to suffer the consequences. Why his conscience sought to haunt him now, he didn’t know, but he could no longer ignore it.
His brother Taskill came along to join him at the hearth, his favorite place in the great hall of Dounarwyse Castle to pace. As chieftain of Clan MacVey, Lennox preferred to pace where others wouldn’t see him, though it was difficult to do outside of his bedchamber.
The swish of a long gown on the staircase alerted him that his mother, Rut, was near. “What’s wrong, Lennox? You’re pacing. After all these years, I recognize your habits.”
He did not wish to grumble at his mother so he held it in, instead stopping to plant a kiss on her cheek. She was still a vibrant, beautiful woman, her gray hair held in a bun at the back of her head, her gowns specially made in Edinburgh. She was a wealth of information, and Lennox had depended on her vast knowledge ever since his father Douglas’s passing two years ago.
“How are you this morn, Lennox, truly?” she repeated. She expected a reply, including a full explanation. His mother would not allow him to escape with anything less.
His sister Eva joined them, and since the servants were busy cleaning up in the kitchens after the midday meal, readying the evening supper, the family were now the only ones in the hall.
But then Taskill smiled and said, “I think I’m needed at the gates.” He disappeared, something he did well. Taskill never liked confrontation, especially when it involved their mother. His brother preferred to spend his time flirting with the clan’s various lasses. He was a favorite among the girls, his light brown hair falling in waves to his collar, his green eyes sparkling whenever a lass came close. Lennox was accustomed to his mother’s interference and didn’t mind confrontation at all.
His sister was a quiet beauty with hair the color of the finest chestnut. She kept her emotions well hidden but liked to keep up on the clan events, something his brother wasn’t always interested in. “Are you pacing again, Lennox? Why?” Eva asked, stopping to whirl her skirts first. A smile erupted as she watched the fabric fly about her heels, the rippling effect making her giggle.
“I have no reason,” Lennox replied. “I just needed to move my legs. I’m about to patrol our lands and the path for a bit. I was trying to decide which neighbor I would prefer to visit. It is a fine day for a ride. Mayhap I’ll visit our neighbors at Clan Grantham.”
His mother crossed her arms and said, “And I know that for the bull that it is. You need to face the situation and make a choice. Either accept the fact that your kidnapping happened a long time ago, so it is not worthy of your concern, or go after the feeble-minded bastard. You’ve ignored it for too long.”
“Mother, as mistress of the clan, your language could be better.” He didn’t wish to admit that for so many years, he’d blocked out the memory of the trauma he’d suffered as a child. Only recently had it all come back to him, though why now, he had no idea.
“And you are the chieftain of this clan. Do you not agree that it is time you stop allowing that villainous soul to monopolize your mind? How often do you think about it? Answer honestly, please.”
He would never admit to anyone how often he thought of the long-ago debacle. But the most difficult memory of the entire event was nearly nonexistent. It wasn’t that he didn’t recall it happening. The fear that coursed through him at the mention of it was something that riddled him frequently, but the details had mostly disappeared, as if his mind didn’t want him to recall all that happened. And for some odd reason, as of late, it had crept into his mind more often than it had in the past. But at least now, he had a good idea of the villain’s identity instead of just an inkling, one that haunted him repeatedly.
Each year of his life since then had added a piece of the mystery back. This year had brought the villain’s face back to him. He knew the vehicle—a boat—and now the guilty party. How he wished he could recall all of it.
Why now? That was the question that forced him to pace.
Rut’s slipper tapped on the stone floor. “Never mind. There is a more important matter at stake. I’m giving you one year to find a bride, or I’ll find one for you,” she stated, her fists now settled on her thin hips, her chin lifted defiantly.
Lennox laughed, shocked that she would construct such a ridiculous premise. “Mother, please. How can you say such a thing? And what would make you even suggest such an odious plan? I’ll not marry your choice. I’ll choose my own bride.” He was aware that time was wasting. It was time for him to find a wife, but he had never met anyone he was remotely interested in.
Fortunately, the door opened, and his brother saved him from having to answer her question.
Taskill, pausing just inside the door to catch his breath, said, “Messenger from Clan Rankin. You’ll wish to hear this.”
Four serving lasses had already entered from the kitchens, one letting out a giggle when Taskill winked at her. He was the lasses’ favorite, by far, and they had the odd ability to sense when he was around. It was as if he whistled to call them to his attention.
People considered Lennox to be too cold, too harsh, too whatever.
“Go on,” Lennox said, giving Taskill his complete attention.
“Marta’s son Rowan has been stolen. He was hunting with his uncle, they shot a deer, and as they went to retrieve it, another horse broke out, spooking the horse and sending Rowan into the air. He fell a distance away, and a strange rider flew out and took him. They’ve searched everywhere but cannot find him.”
“Why did the messenger tell us about this?” Rut asked.
Taskill shrugged. “He’s asking for our help. Wants us to send a patrol toward Ben More while they search their area.”
“Taskill, the men, and do not stray after a light skirt. Eva, pull all the mothers and bairns inside the castle walls until I find out more. We cannot risk having any of our bairns stolen away.”
Taskill left with a quick nod.
Lennox turned to his sister and said, “Eva, go to the village first and get them inside immediately. Then you may need to help some mothers with young bairns inside. Open the hall for them. Mother will have Cook make extra pottage for the evening meal.”
“And we’ll need more goat’s milk. I’ll take care of it,” Rut said.
His mother gave him that look he knew well, the one that told him she had much to say, but she would wait until they were alone.
And he knew exactly what she would say. Something about his past, something about taking care of unfinished business. She always told him so. The same thing she’d started their conversation with a short while ago.
Once they were alone, she didn’t wait long. “Lennox MacVey, you need to settle this. Find him and put an end to this. You do realize the person who stole Rowan away could be the man you met so long ago. In fact, the more I think on it, the more I’m convinced it must be the same man. You need to set your mind to remembering everything.”
“Mother, that was years ago. What makes you think it would be him?”
“Because it’s the same time of the year. Late summer. It happens every year, or have you not noticed? A few older bairns go missing and no one knows where. You need to tell someone. And figure it out. You are an intelligent man, Lennox, yet you allow this event to control your life. It has for years. Do not try to deny it.”
He paused, then admitted, “You are not wrong. I’ve had more nightmares than ever about that man. In fact, I searched for him not long ago, only to learn he’s on the move, though I’m not sure where.”
“Why did you not tell me this before?”
“Because I was unsuccessful in my search. I don’t know where he is.”
“At least you have tried. Now you must go deeper. This pain will not leave you. Trust me that as you grow older, it will only haunt you more.” She then used her perfect spin to lead herself back to the kitchens. “I’m going to the goatherd.”
Good.
He hated it whenever he had to tell his mother she was right. Which was probably why he never did, but she was right.
It was time to find out who liked to terrorize the people on the Isle of Mull every summer.