Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-two
As the warrior knelt
before his queen, Mary’s mouth dropped open in stunned surprise.
Beside her, Jamie’s heart plummeted.
“You are Ian MacPherson?”
“Aye, Majesty,” the man said. “I was on my
way here when I was attacked by a band of highwaymen. The scum left
me for dead. If it were not for the kindness of a traveler who came
upon me lying in my own blood, I would not have survived.”
The queen turned to Jamie. “Then the man who
possessed that scroll—”
“Was one of the band of highwaymen,” Jamie
finished. “And he is leading Douglas Gordon and his family into a
trap.” Jamie’s mouth was a grim tight line as he shouted to Justin,
“See that my horse is saddled and ready at once.”
Turning to the queen’s cousin, he said, “Lord
Desmond, you and Ian MacPherson must stay beside the queen at all
times until I return.” He pressed a hand to Mary’s sleeve. “Even
when you sleep, Majesty, one of these men must be outside your
door.”
He saw the fear that she struggled to hide.
“Is that really necessary, Jamie?”
“Aye, Majesty. Promise me you will not risk
your safety.”
She gave a reluctant nod of her head.
He lifted her hand to his lips, then drew her
close.
Against his cheek she murmured, “I pray that
you are not too late, Jamie. For I fear that the Gordons are in
grave peril.”
She saw the look of grim determination in his
eyes as he turned and strode to the boat that awaited him at the
water’s edge.
* * *
“You have been very quiet on this journey, my
lady.” Ian brought his horse close to Lindsey’s as they entered the
forest. “Are you reluctant to leave the glittering life of royalty
behind and return to the Highlands?”
“Nay. I am just—weary,” she said as her gaze
scanned the heavily forested area. They were very near the place
where they had encountered the highwaymen. She felt as nervous and
skittish as a colt newly put to saddle.
“No matter. Your journey is almost over.” He
saw her stiffen and asked, “What is wrong?”
“I thought I saw someone, or something, just
beyond those trees.”
“I will investigate,” Ian said, leaving
Lindsey alone on the trail.
She turned in the saddle, to call out to her
father, who rode a short distance behind. A few minutes later her
brothers caught up with them. They milled around, impatiently
awaiting Ian’s return.
At last Douglas said, “Murray and Donald. Go
and see what is keeping Ian.”
The two rode off while Lindsey and her father
slid from the saddle.
Douglas watched as Lindsey knelt to pluck a
wildflower and lowered her face to breathe in its fragrance. It
brought a smile to his lips.
“Jamie MacDonald told me that you are like a
wildflower,” he said.
Lindsey felt the pain, hot and sharp, around
her heart and wondered when it would end. “Jamie spoke to you of
me?”
“Aye.” Douglas watched his daughter and
wondered how much he should reveal. But she seemed so unhappy. And
he had always been willing to do anything to see her smile. “He
told me that I had a very special daughter.” Douglas smiled. “And I
told him that I was already aware of that.”
She walked to him and kissed his cheek, then
lay her head on his shoulder. “Father, did you always know, even in
the beginning, that you loved Mother?”
“Aye,” he said without hesitation. “From the
moment I met her I knew she was the lass for me.”
“Would you have ever sent her away from
you?”
Douglas heard the pain in her tone and prayed
he could find the words to comfort her. “The agony of separation
would have been worse than death.” He paused. “But if her safety
depended upon it, I would have been strong enough to send her away.
There were times I was grateful that she was safe in my fortress
while I was doing battle. But always I feared for her. When you
love someone, you cannot help worrying. It is the price we pay for
loving, lass.”
He tipped up her chin and stared into her
eyes. “Love is not a smooth, easy path through a meadow, Lindsey.
More often it is a treacherous course, beset with mountains and
valleys that would test the faith of a saint.”
She felt the sting of tears and blinked them
away quickly. “Is it worth the pain?”
His lips split into a wide smile. “Oh, aye,
Lindsey. It is more than worth the pain.” He kissed her hard and
quick, then turned toward her horse. “Now, let us find your
brothers and be on our way.”
As they mounted, Douglas gave a little frown.
“They should have returned by now. Draw your weapons. Something is
amiss.”
They moved out slowly, with Douglas in the
lead. As they crested a hill, they came upon a small clearing just
below them. And the sight that greeted them brought a torrent of
oaths to the old man’s lips.
Murray and Donald lay bloodied and
motionless.
“God in heaven.” Douglas Gordon’s heart
stopped and he urged his horse into the clearing. Before the horse
had even come to a halt he had leaped from the saddle and was
kneeling beside his eldest son.
The others gathered around anxiously as he
felt for a pulse.
“He lives. Praise God, he lives.” He rushed
to Donald and examined him. “He is also alive. But he has lost much
blood. Here, lass. He needs your help.”
Lindsey slid from the saddle and began
tearing her petticoat into strips while Neal rushed to a nearby
stream and returned with water. As she bathed their wounds and
stemmed the flow of blood, Murray’s lips moved, though no words
could be heard.
“He tries to speak,” Lindsey called to her
father. Instantly the old man was on his knees beside his son.
“What is it, Murray? Can you speak, lad? Who did this terrible
thing?”
“He is about to say the name Ian MacPherson,
old man,” came a voice from behind them. They whirled to see Ian
holding a sword, followed by a dozen armed men. “But that would be
a lie. You see,” he said with a chilling laugh, “I am not really
Ian MacPherson. Nor am I really interested in protecting the queen.
As a matter of fact, it was one of my band who almost succeeded in
getting to the queen at Lochleven. We were offered a handsome
reward by Lord Ruthven if we got to the queen before her army of
protectors. Unfortunately, he was thwarted by the lass.” He shot
Lindsey a hate-filled look. “I am one of this band of highwaymen.
And we are here to seek vengeance.” To his men he shouted, “Tie
them. And see they do not escape. I have waited a lifetime for
this. I intend to savor every minute of it.”
* * *
Jamie rode hard through villages and hamlets,
across flower-strewn meadows, over narrow streams and wide rivers
and into the dense forest. It was an easy matter to follow seven
people who had not attempted to hide themselves. But once in the
forest, he noted, the trail faded. No matter. He knew where they
were headed.
If his instinct about the man who claimed to
be Ian MacPherson was correct, they would be sequestered in his
evil domain deep in the forest.
His hand tightened on the reins. He had to
reach them in time. If he did not, he would be forced to live with
the pain of loss for the rest of his life. For all time he would
know that he had sent the woman he loved to her death, rather than
risk her dishonor.
What terrible irony for one who valued honor
above all things. Yet even honor paled beside the loss of Lindsey’s
life. It was fury that drove him. A raging fury that built with
every mile.
* * *
Lindsey felt her heart stop when she saw
Argus. The hideously ugly man who had held her captive in the
forest bent to tie her hands. His single dark eye blinked
furiously. “So, my fine and fancy lady, we meet again. It would
seem the fates keep throwing us together so that I may finally get
a chance to sample your charms.”
“If you are human, at least let me take care
of my wounded brothers,” Lindsey pleaded.
The man they knew as Ian gave her a chilling
smile. “What good would it do? They are only going to die anyway.
As are all of you.”
“Then kill us,” Douglas said, “and spare us
this torment.”
“Nay. Not yet. Not until it pleases me.” The
leader poured himself a tankard of ale and said to Argus, “Start a
fire and prepare some food. This night is a celebration. I intend
to savor it.”
Soon a deer was butchered and hung over a
fire. While it slowly roasted, the men began to consume vast
quantities of ale. The forest rang with the sound of their
laughter.
They feasted until their hunger was sated.
And then, warm from the food and ale, the one called Ian approached
Lindsey and bowed before her.
“The time has come, my lady.” His voice was a
silken purr of pleasure. “I have waited a lifetime for this moment.
And now I intend to take my revenge.”
“I do not understand,” she said. “I do not
know you.”
“Nay. But I know you. And you,” he said,
turning to include Douglas Gordon.
“You are wrong. I would remember you, had we
met before,” the older man replied.
Ian sat on a fallen log and crossed his leg,
staring for a moment at the toe of his boot. When he lifted his
gaze, he fixed Douglas Gordon with a look of pure hatred.
“My given name is indeed Ian. But my clan is
not MacPherson. I wager you remember my father.” He paused for just
a moment before saying softly, “Neville Sinclair.”
Douglas gasped. The night had turned eerily
quiet.
“Neville Sinclair.” Douglas Gordon spat the
name like a curse. “He broke all the laws of warfare. Instead of
fighting me like a man, he stole away with my only daughter and
tried to violate her.”
“And you killed him,” Ian said softly.
“Aye. I killed him. Any man would have done
the same. He caused my daughter to suffer for a lifetime because of
his cruelty.”
“Do you recall his son who begged you to kill
him also?”
Douglas stared at the man a moment, seeing in
his mind’s eye the terrible battle that ensued after Lindsey’s leap
to the courtyard. Then he shook his head. “Nay. I recall no lad. I
barely recall killing Neville Sinclair. I remember only the way my