Chapter 8 #2
Jamie wished he had the eloquence of the
orators at court. Perhaps then he could break through this wall
that seemed to separate them whenever they tried to make simple
conversation.
“Your father is very protective of you, my
lady.”
He looked up to see color flood her cheeks.
By the gods, he said the wrong thing. He wished he could cut out
his tongue.
“I did not mean—” He stopped abruptly then
tried again. “If I had someone as lovely as you depending upon me,
I would be every bit as protective.”
Lindsey blushed to her toes.
Jamie tossed the contents of his tankard into
the flames, feeling his frustration grow. It was impossible to talk
to this female. He turned away, but her words stopped him.
“Have you no one depending upon you, Jamie
MacDonald?”
He turned back. Her eyes met his for the
first time. He knelt and tossed a branch on the fire. “There are
many who depend upon me. But none I can all family.”
For some strange reason that eased her mind.
Not that she cared whether or not he had a wife and bairns. But the
thought pleased her. Jamie MacDonald was a man alone.
“But what about Brice Campbell, the Highland
Barbarian? Is he not your family?”
“My foster father. He took me in as a boy
when my entire clan was destroyed in battle.”
“You have no parents? No brothers or
sisters?”
He shook his head.
Lindsey tried to imagine what it would be
like to have no one. No adoring father. No brothers to tease, to
laugh with, to weep over. She felt a stab of pain around her heart.
For the first time, instead of seeing him merely as the Heartless
MacDonald, she began to see Jamie MacDonald as something far
different.
“And Brice Campbell? Has he a family of his
own?”
“Aye. A lovely wife, Meredith. And wee
bairns.” Jamie’s eyes lit, and Lindsey was amazed at how he was
transformed. His voice softened. “She will give him many fine sons
and daughters.”
“Men.” She laughed, and the sound of her
laughter warmed him. “You sound just like Donald. He thinks every
female in our village would like to give him children.”
“I do not know about men like your brother.
Perhaps,” Jamie said carefully, “he will find a woman who will make
him forget all the others.”
“Now you sound like Father.”
Jamie shrugged. “I know only that Brice and
Meredith were a most unlikely match.”
“A pity. I hope they managed to find a little
happiness.”
“You misunderstand, my lady. Although they
seemed an unlikely match, the love they share is there in their
eyes for all to see.”
Jamie tossed the rest of the branch on the
fire and went to fetch the horses. Alone, Lindsey pondered what he
had just said. Love. What a strange, unpredictable emotion. Though
her father and mother were from far different clans, one warlike,
the other peaceful, theirs had been a great love.
She shook her head. She would never
understand such things. And she doubted she would ever have to deal
with such confusing feelings.
She watched as Jamie returned, leading their
horses. He held her mount as she pulled herself into the
saddle.
“We should reach your father’s camp before
the sun is directly overhead,” Jamie said, leading the way.
As they moved out, a gray, shadowy figure
slipped through the forest, keeping them always in sight.
* * *
Jamie’s thoughts grew dark as they neared the
camp. This band of highwaymen was cunning. They had probably been
cheating and robbing travelers along this route for many years. For
every villain he had captured, there would be five more hiding in
the forest. If he were to capture all of them, he would first have
to catch their leader. One name sprang to mind. Ian MacPherson.
Though Jamie had not spoken of it to Lindsey, he was certain that
MacPherson was the leader of the band of cutthroats. He prayed that
the Highlanders in camp had been quick enough to prevent the escape
of that scheming villain when he had come to demand a ransom.
Jamie’s hands tightened on the reins. He
wanted only a few minutes alone with MacPherson. And the one called
Argus. Never again would they inflict their pain on a helpless
woman. And never again would they spread fear and loathing among
the people of this region.
Seeing Jamie’s dark mood, Lindsey rode beside
him in silence. There was so much about this man she did not know.
He seemed reluctant to reveal even the smallest details. His life
as an orphan, or years spent with Brice Campbell. Both Brice and
Jamie were legends in this country. And both men, she thought with
quickening pulse, were close friends of the queen.
Her musings were interrupted by the sharp
tang of wood smoke.
Jamie touched a hand to her shoulder to warn
her of approaching danger. As they entered the forest, they could
make out the shapes of men in the distance.
At the sound of a familiar voice, Lindsey
slid from her horse and broke into a run. The men in the camp
paused in their work to look up. One figure separated himself from
the others.
“Lindsey. Praise heaven.”
At her father’s words, Lindsey flew into his
arms. She was swept up in a fervent embrace as a great sigh of
relief issued from deep within him.
Her four brothers converged on her from
different points around the camp, wrapping their arms around both
their father and sister. It was a most joyful reunion as they
laughed and kissed and hugged. Everyone was talking at once, with
no one making any sense.
When at last they had all embraced, Douglas
held her a little away, studying her through narrowed eyes. “Are
you truly unharmed, daughter?”
“Aye, Father.”
From his vantage point, Jamie watched the way
the lass held her cloak firmly around her, shielding her bruised
flesh from her father’s view.
“We were greatly relieved when Neal found us
in the forest to tell us that you were safe,” Murray said. He
turned to Jamie with a solemn look. “When I first heard that my
brothers left Lindsey alone with you, I was not happy, for my
sister is a sheltered maiden.”
“Murray,” his father said, touching a hand to
his son’s arm.
“I understand your fears,” Jamie said
quickly. “You have every right to feel as you do about your sister.
But I assure you that she has been returned to you as I found
her.”
“And I,” Douglas said with fervor, “am
grateful to you, Jamie MacDonald, for leading my sons to the
villains’ camp. I would entrust my daughter to your care at any
time.”
Jamie accepted the man’s outstretched hand
and grasped it firmly. “I know how you suffered at the loss of your
daughter, Douglas. I am grateful that we arrived in time to save
her.” He glanced around. “Where are the prisoners?”
“They escaped.”
Jamie’s eyes narrowed. “All of them? How
could this happen?”
We woke this morrow to find them gone. The
guards we had posted were all dead, their throats slit.”
Jamie’s countenance grew dark with fury. “How
many men have we lost?”
“Six,” Douglas said.
“Six men.” Jamie grew silent for a moment,
then said sternly, “And their leader? Were you able to capture him
when he came demanding the ransom for Lindsey’s safe return?”
“He never showed himself,” Douglas Gordon
replied.
“He never came. But how could this be?”
The old man shrugged. “Something must have
happened to change his plans.”
“Aye. But we will continue to watch for him,”
said a voice behind Jamie.
For a moment Jamie stood frozen to the spot.
He refused to turn. He knew that voice. Knew the face he would
see.
Fury churned within him, making his blood
boil. How could this man stand among them, feigning innocence?
Carefully schooling his features, Jamie
turned slowly and found himself face-to-face with Ian
MacPherson.