Beneath a Highland Moon (The Highland Moon Series 1) Read online

  Frustrated, he paced back and forth. No one had set eyes on Jillian or the lad for more than a day. That is, except for that old crone, Winnie. She kept insisting they'd acquired some sort of sickness and should keep to their bedchambers until they were well, which, of course, had meant delaying their marriage. He'd not wanted to become ill himself, for he didn't need to show any weakness in front of the people of Lochstorm. Gordon hadn't argued when only the healer was allowed inside the two bedchambers. But the more he thought about it, the more something about the whole thing seemed amiss. Both bedchambers had been quiet—too quiet—especially the lads. Illness or not, he intended to find out what was going on. He raced up the stairs to find Duff, the man he'd left to guard Jillian's door, sound asleep, stretched out on a settle in the corridor. Gordon kicked it over, dumping him onto the floor.

  "What the…," stammered the half-asleep man, as he slowly crawled up from the floor. "Och, I must have fallen asleep."

  "Of course you did, you fool. I give you a simple job and this is what happens. If I catch you sleeping again, it'll be out with you and with no pay. Open this door at once."

  Duff hurried to do his bidding, and Gordon stepped past him into Jillian's bedchamber. The window coverings were drawn, and he had to squint to see inside.

  The old woman jumped up from the chair beside the bed. Jillian lay huddled beneath the covers as still as a mouse. Gordon threw open the window coverings and walked to the other side of the bed and looked across at the woman. She'd gone completely pale.

  "Please, sir, m'lady needs her rest, for she's very ill," she pleaded with him, wringing her hands.

  Suddenly everything became clear. Grabbing the top of the bedclothes, he snatched them back, exposing several strategically placed bundles of clothing. "Just as I thought. Where is she?" he shouted, slamming his fist against the headboard.

  The servant flinched, but didn't answer him.

  He quickly stepped around the bed and grabbed her arms, shaking her. "Did you hear me? Where is she?"

  "I'm not certain. I but did as I was told," she said, her voice quivering. He let go of her, and she fell across the bed.

  "Duff," he shouted," if I find out the lady walked past you whilst you slept, I'll see you hanged."

  The guard looked past him at the empty bed and shook his head. "I swear, MacRae, no one has gone in or out this door, but that one there and the healer."

  Gordon again turned his attention to Winnie. "What of the lad?"

  She said naught, and refused to look at him.

  "I'll see for myself," he said, hurrying down the corridor to the nursery. But he knew even before he pulled back the covers what he'd find there. How the devil did they get out without my knowing? He returned to Jillian's bedchamber.

  The old woman calmly sat on the edge of the bed with her hands folded in her lap. "Duff, take her to the dungeon. Perchance, after a couple of cold nights, with only the rats to keep her warm, she'll talk."

  She got up and quietly went with the guard.

  Frustrated, Gordon was determined to find out how the two of them could have escaped without anyone seeing them. He walked over to the window and looked down below. Perhaps Jillian could've climbed down, but not the child. He turned away from the window and studied the bedchamber. He'd heard stories of the tunnels at Lochstorm, but had always believed them to be just that—stories. What if they'd been true?

  Beginning at one corner of the outer wall, he searched, working his way toward the fireplace. Then he stopped and took a good, hard look at the stones. Getting down onto his knees, he ran his fingers along the bottom edge of the stones until he touched an iron latch. Grasping it, he shoved hard and a panel slid open. Pushing away the small door, he stepped into a tunnel. So, the stories were true. But she'd had help from someone other than that old woman to pull off their escape, and he knew who—Roderick.

  ***

  Shrouded by low-hanging clouds and a thick mist, the top of the mountain range lay hidden from sight except for a few of the taller peaks sticking through here and there. Laird Kade MacLachlan looked up at the sky. Not a speck of blue to be seen there. He, his good friend, Galen MacKinnon and several members of his clan had been hunting fresh game for almost a week, and weren't due to return home for another couple of days. It'd been raining the entire time and didn't appear to be letting up anytime soon.

  Kade took a deep breath of the crisp Highland air, picking up a whiff of peat smoke carried on the wind from the nearby village. He loved the smell of pine, the bitter scent of peat smoke, and wet, decaying leaves, the sound of the wind whispering through the branches and the chattering of the red squirrels, but he didn't relish spending another cold, wet night on the ground.

  The chestnut stallion tossed his head and stamped his foot in the mud when he caught sight of Kade coming up the hill toward him. He softly whinnied, intently watching Kade approach.

  "Good morning, Caesar. Are you waiting for a treat?" he asked, holding an apple out to the horse, who gently took it from his outstretched hand. The past hour, the rain had gone from a downpour to a steady drizzle, and the wind had picked up. Even though Caesar, along with the other horses, had been sheltered in a stand of pines, water ran in tiny streams from his coat and dripped from his black mane and tail. Scratching the big animal behind the ears, Kade thought about the day he'd gotten Caesar. He'd been a gift from his wife, Isabelle. 'Twas she who'd named him. Kade remembered cringing when he'd heard the horse's name. He hadn't been able to bear telling her he didn't particularly like it, for she'd seemed so pleased that he'd liked the horse.

  Over two years had now passed since her death, along with the wee son to whom she'd just given birth. Kade had named him Cameron and buried him in his mother's arms.

  Footsteps behind him caused him to turn around. Galen, a man he considered to be one of his closest friends, strode up the hill toward him, tramping through the mud, water dripping from the ends of his dark, shoulder-length hair. Kade trusted Galen with his life, and had done so on more than one occasion.

  Galen shook his head like a wet dog that'd just come inside from the rain. "'Tis too bad Duncan and Cinead are visiting Duncan's sister in the Lowlands. They deserve to be suffering right along beside me. More than likely, the two of them are breaking their fast at the earl's table as we speak."

  Kade chuckled. "Knowing firsthand the amount of food Duncan can put away at one sitting, his poor sister and the earl are likely afraid he'll clean out their storeroom." Kade and Galen, along with Cinead and Duncan had met at university several years before and had been fast friends ever since. There was nothing one wouldn't do for the other—a fact that had been proven more than once.

  "I'm ready to head for Ravenskull. We've sent back more than enough game, and I'm tired of being wet. Would you like to come?" Galen asked, grinning broadly.

  "'Tis hard for me to believe the blood of a Highland warrior courses through those veins of yours." Kade shook his head."I ken you only too well, Galen. A soft bed and warm lass are what you seek, aye?"

  Galen's dark brows arched mischievously. "And just what is wrong with that, my friend?" he asked, his green eyes twinkling.

  "Very well." Kade sighed. "We'll tell the others to get ready to leave for Ravenskull at once. We just won't tell them why. They'll think we've both gone soft—and daft. I'm looking forward to the comfort of my own bed, but first, I wish a long, hot soak in my tub to ease this cold and dampness from my bones."

  "You sound mighty old for a man of twenty-five." Galen chuckled. "What you need is a bonnie lass to take away your aches and pains."

  Kade felt the old familiar pang. "We've talked about this before, Galen. 'Tis too soon," he said, shaking his head. When he'd married Isabelle, through an agreement between their families, Kade hadn't loved her, but the two years they were together, a close bond had formed between them, and he had even grown to love her. He was devastated by her death and that of their son.

  "'Tis not too soon, Kade. I
worry about you. You don't even notice when the ladies try to catch your attention. You could have any one of them in your bed at any given time. 'Tis as if you've made yourself believe that you don't deserve to be happy. It's been over two years since Isabelle's death, and 'tis time for you to get on with your life, which, I don't have to remind you, includes siring an heir for Ravenskull."

  No man, other than Galen, Duncan or Cinead, would've gotten away with speaking to him in such a manner, but Kade knew he meant well. "I'll take that step when I'm good and ready and not before."

  "I would ask you something, but I don't wish to seem nosey."

  "Just when did you ever let that stop you before?" He chuckled. "What is it?"

  "Why did you never seek out the MacRae lass after Isabelle's death? You knew she'd never wed for you said as much."

  Kade blew out a long breath, shaking his head. "I don't ken for certain. I guess I assumed that her feelings for me had changed by then." In truth, if he'd gone to her and she'd rejected him, Kade didn't think he could've withstood the pain of walking away from her again.

  "What about you, Kade? Have your feelings for her changed?"

  Kade untied Caesar. "I don't ken for certain. It's been such a long time since I saw her last. I guess the only way I'll ever find out is to see her again, and I don't see that happening any time soon. If we intend to reach Ravenskull before mid-day meal, we should get started."

  "I'm ready to leave when you are. I can already taste a slice of Cook's fresh baked bread, and Flora, the serving girl's, warm lips."

  Galen knew him well enough to ken when to change the subject. Thinking of Jillian always put Kade into a dismal mood. He'd learned over the years to quickly shove the thoughts of her away. The morning four year ago, when he'd gone into the library to ask Laird MacRae for Jillian's hand in marriage, had been one of the happiest days he could remember. Then he'd learned of Jillian's betrothal to that scoundrel, Innes Ramsey. The mere thought of that blackguard putting his hands on Jillian had almost sent him over the edge. When he'd left her weeping in the great hall of Ravenskull, it'd almost killed him, for as he'd walked away from her, he'd left a piece of his heart behind.

  Chapter Six

  The mouth-watering aroma of food slowly willed Jillian awake. Her head ached and her stomach growled. She forced herself to sit upright, but found it near impossible from the pounding inside her skull. Refusing to give up and lie back down, she closed her eyes, feeling as if the room were spinning around her. She stayed very still until the pain and dizziness eased a bit.

  Then Jillian opened her eyes and glanced about the room. Glennis sat dozing in a chair beside the bed, her soft snores the only sound in the room. A tray of food had been left on the table near the fire. Jillian's stomach growled louder. Trying not to wake Glennis, she slipped out of bed. But when she stood, she became lightheaded and was forced to hold on to the bedpost, until she was able to reach the table.

  Jillian sat down in the chair and pulled the tray across the tabletop, thinking all the while that she needed to see Ian—she didn't want him to worry about her any longer. And she had to speak with Kade as soon as it could be arranged. The thought of him being somewhere nearby, caused her stomach to flutter.

  She ate the trencher of stew, without leaving a single crumb behind, along with the bannocks. Then she drank the goblet of spiced mead. Her hunger and thirst satisfied, Jillian shoved the empty tray away.

  With a gasp, Glennis jumped up from the chair. "I must have fallen asleep, m'lady," she said, then noticed the empty tray. "Shall I bring more food?"

  Jillian shook her head, patting her stomach. "Nay, Glennis. My belly is full. How long have I been asleep?"

  "For almost two days."

  Two days! By now Gordon more than likely knew they'd left Lochstorm and may have punished—or perhaps even killed—both Winnie and Roderick. She could only pray that they still lived. Jillian stood up too quickly from the table and everything went dark. She grabbed the back of the chair and held on until it passed.

  Glennis frowned. "Perhaps ye should get back into bed, m'lady. That swelling on the back of yer head will take some time to go down. Annag, our healer, mixed a potion to keep away infection and to aid in healing. I've been applying it often."

  "I must thank Annag, and I thank you, Glennis." Jillian touched the bump on her head, and a sharp pain shot through her skull. She winced. "Aye, I see what you mean. But as I'm no longer hungry and am well rested, I'll be fine. I'm just a bit unsteady on my feet, and I'm certain that will soon pass. Where is my brother? I must let him ken that I'm well."

  Glennis chuckled. "There's no need for ye to fash ye'self about the lad, m'lady. Young Ian has managed to wrap the whole of Ravenskull around his wee finger. When ye first arrived and we'd put you to bed, he made me promise not to leave your side, before he'd go with Logan to get a bite to eat. He'll be a fine laird someday, that one. He has a sense of responsibility, much like your father, may God rest his soul."

  Jillian blinked back tears at the mention of her father. "Aye, he does at that. Glennis, I must see Laird MacLachlan immediately, so that I may discuss with him the reason we've come to Ravenskull."

  She shook her head. "The laird is not here, m'lady. He and others are out hunting fresh game. It'll be much needed for the feast. With the Midsummer's Eve celebration only a few days away, the castle is overflowing with guests. In fact, this is the laird's bedchamber. 'Twas the only room available. With him away, I didn't think he'd mind if I put ye in here."

  Jillian looked about the room, noting the ornately carved bed and two large chests of dark wood positioned against the wall. Along with the exquisite velvet material of the bed drapes and window coverings dyed a dark hue of crimson. A thick, wool rug covered the floor in front of the fire.

  "When is your laird expected to return?"

  "End of the week, m'lady."

  Jillian sighed. She had no choice other than to wait for Kade to come back to Ravenskull. Her gaze fell on the big wooden tub standing in the corner. "Do you suppose Laird MacLachlan would mind if I make use of his tub?"

  "Nay, m'lady, I'm certain he'd not mind. I'll have the servants fill it for ye."

  "Much thanks, but before that, Glennis, would you bring my brother to see me?"

  "Aye, of course," she said, hurrying from the bedchamber.

  Jillian moved about the room slowly, allowing herself to adjust to being upright. She pulled aside the window covering and watched a group of children playing below. Three wee lasses squealed loudly as a young dark-haired lad chased them around the walled barmkin, brandishing a wooden sword in his hand.

  "Jilly!" squealed Ian from behind her.

  She barely had enough time to turn around before he threw his arms around her, nearly knocking her over in her weakened state. Not wishing him to ken she wasn't yet herself, she held on tightly to the window coverings with one hand to steady her. "Ian, 'tis so good to see you, my sweet."

  He looked up at her, his pale blue eyes so like his father's, shinning with unshed tears. "You fell off Bonnie and were lying on the ground. I thought you were dead, but Logan told me you were but sleeping."

  Sliding to her knees, she hugged him to her. "I'm so very sorry I frightened you, but as you can see, now I'm well." She gently poked him in the stomach with her finger. "Have you finally gotten that belly of yours filled since you've been at Ravenskull?"

  "Aye," he said, patting his stomach. "Cook makes the best scones, Jilly. You have to try one. Since I like them so much, she saves them for me."

  Jillian laughed—the first time she had in a while. "Do you like it here at Ravenskull, Ian?" She hoped he did, since she intended to ask Kade to allow him to remain here if she should have to return to Lochstorm—something that depended solely on Kade. At least here, Ian would be safely out of Gordon's reach.

  He nodded, twisting a strand of her hair around his index finger, as he'd done since birth. "Aye, and I've already made friends with some of the childr
en here. The laird is not here though. He's still out hunting."

  "As I've recently learned."

  Glennis entered the room, accompanied by several servants carrying buckets of steaming water.

  Ian's eyes grew large. "Do I have to take a bath? I don't think I need one yet, Jilly," he said, quickly shaking his head.

  Jillian chuckled, pulling herself to her feet. "Don't worry, wee brother. 'Tis I who is in need of one."

  "Come along with me, young Ian, and leave yer sister to her bath," Glennis said, taking him by the hand. "Cook just finished baking a fresh batch of scones and I'll bet she'd let ye have one if ye ask her."

  He waved good-by to Jillian.

  "Enjoy your scone."

  "I'll save one for you, Jilly," he called over his shoulder. She watched Glennis lead him through the door, just the way she had Jillian when she was a child. Jillian knew with a certainty that as long as Ian had Glennis to look after him, he'd fare well. That knowledge eased her mind a bit at the thought of having to leave him behind at Ravenskull, if the need be.

  Not long after, Jillian sat soaking in Kade's big, wooden tub filled with steaming water and the sweet smell of rose scented soap that Glennis had left for her. The thought of Kade, bathing in the same tub, and sleeping in the same bed where she'd slept, sent a rush of excitement through her. Kade was now a man of a score and five years and Jillian knew without a doubt that he'd have changed. Just how much, Jillian couldn't say. Would he be an older version of the warm and kindhearted lad she once knew, or with the death of his wife and son, had he become cold and calloused? Jillian hoped 'twas not the latter.

  Glennis had found Jillian a shift, for which she was thankful. While Jillian had been passed out, she and the ladies' maid had stripped Jillian of the plaid and bloody shirt then dressed her in the clean shift before putting her to bed. Her own had been in the bundle she'd lost, along with the rest of her clothing—and her mother's locket. Tears welled up in her eyes. Without the locket, she'd not be able to look upon her parents' faces ever again.