A Flawed Scotsman (Clan Ross Book 4) Read online

  It took some maneuvering, but he managed to get the woman and himself atop his mount. The horse was uncharacteristically mild and allowed him to guide it through the forest, doing his best not to jostle the woman more than necessary.

  It was early morning. The sun barely peeked through the trees. A pleasant day was promised as they continued forth. Strange that the woman was so close to the keep and yet had been left out without escort.

  “Who are ye?”

  The soft question startled Ruari. He looked down to the woman cradled across his lap and met her brown gaze. “I am Ruari Ross, taking ye to Fraser Keep, where I am headed.”

  “My home,” she said softly and grimaced. Tears began to fall and she lifted a grimy hand to wipe them away. “I am not very well.”

  “No, ye are not.” Ruari was not about to lie to her. If she survived through the day, it would be a miracle. “Who did it?”

  She studied him for a moment as if weighing whether to tell him or not. “I wish to see my father. How much longer?” Her eyes fell closed for a moment and then she opened them.

  “I can see the keep now. Only a bit more.” If he urged the horse to a gallop, they would arrive sooner. But the movement could prove fatal for the woman, so he kept the reins tight on the horse that, so far, continued forward without much incident.

  It seemed to take forever until they arrived at the keep gates. Although there were guards stationed above the open gates, he was not challenged as he rode through to the inner courtyard. It was there that four guards on horses stopped him.

  “What happened?” A guard’s eyes widened upon catching sight of the woman in his arms.

  “I found her in the forest,” Ruari replied. “Ye must fetch a healer immediately.”

  Two men hurried forward and he lowered the woman who cried out in pain.

  He followed their progress as she was carried inside.

  “We have been out looking for her all night,” one of the guardsmen said. “Where was she?”

  “Just north of here, in the forest. She was well hidden.”

  A guard looked toward the entrance to where the people had taken the injured woman. “I am sure our laird will wish to speak to ye.”

  “I was traveling here from Clan Ross to visit when I came upon her.”

  The guard motioned some lads over. “See about his horse.”

  Ruari dismounted but did not relinquish the reins. “I must see about my steed. He is not quite tamed yet.”

  “I will show ye the way then,” the same guard said and dismounted.

  “Oats and water would be appreciated,” he said to the lad who followed close by. The lad rushed away to prepare the items and Ruari guided the horse to the stables.

  They went to an empty, small corral where he guided his horse into. Then, while oats and water were brought by the lads, he unsaddled the beast. At once, it began snorting in displeasure.

  Ruari studied the beast and grunted. “I can hardly wait to ride into battle. I’m not sure if the enemy will kill me or ye,” he said in a flat tone.

  The guard motioned to a water barrel. “Would ye like to wash up before going inside?”

  “Aye, that would be good.”

  It was just a few moments later that he entered the Fraser great room. It was empty except for one man who stood just inside the doorway.

  “Thank ye for bringing my sister,” the man said, holding out a hand. “I am Keithen Fraser.”

  Ruari shook the man’s hand. “I wasn’t aware of her identity. I brought her here because it was the closest place I knew.”

  “Aye, she is my sister, Esme. We searched everywhere late into the night. I do not know how we did not find her.”

  “She hid very well between a tree and a large rock and used branches to seal herself in. If it wasn’t for her calling out, I do not think I would have found her either.”

  It was obvious the woman’s brother felt horrible about not finding his nearly dead sister by the angry expression on his face.

  “How fares she?”

  “I am not aware. Father wished for me to greet ye. He will come momentarily to speak to ye.”

  They moved to a table where a platter of bread, cheese and fruit was brought for him, along with it a tankard of ale.

  Ruari was hungry. So he ate, enjoying the warm bread with freshly churned butter. He washed his food down with the cool ale and studied his surroundings. The great room was much smaller than the one at Ross Keep. But it was clean and spacious. The tapestries on the walls provided color along with the Fraser coat of arms mounted behind the high board. As per usual, the hearth was large. In front of it, two hounds lay sleeping.

  “Why was yer sister in the forest unescorted?” Ruari did his best to keep annoyance from his tone. “From what I know, yer clan is not safe at the moment.”

  Keithen looked properly chastised. “She must have gone after that doe of hers. The animal should be freed, but she insists on keeping it until it reaches maturity. When it jumps over fences and escapes, she goes after it without regard for her own safety.”

  Although it was understandable that a person could care for an animal, Ruari wondered at the lack of security. He decided not to bring up the fact that their guardsmen didn’t challenge him, a total stranger, upon his arrival. The same guards should have caught sight of the laird’s daughter leaving the keep.

  Instead, he stuffed cheese into his mouth to keep from speaking.

  Just then, a slender, gray-bearded man entered the room. His worried eyes met Ruari’s. “Thank ye for bringing my daughter.”

  Ruari stood to greet the laird. “How fares she?”

  “The healer hopes she will live. She remains unconscious. The removal of the arrow was quite painful.”

  As much as he wanted to ask how it had been done, it wasn’t his place. Instead, he focused on the laird. “She seems to have a strong will. I will venture to say it can be enough to help her recover.”

  The laird chuckled. “Aye. In that, ye are right. Esme can be quite willful.” He looked to Keithen. “Call for the guardsmen to form at once. We must make changes.”

  As his son departed, the laird lowered to a seat opposite Ruari. “Unfortunately, this is partly my fault. We grow weary of the threat to our clan. I am afraid my belief that there is little we can do has bled to my men.”

  His keen gaze met Ruari’s. “I hope ye bring hopeful news.”

  Ruari wasn’t sure how to reply. In truth, Malcolm had left the decision up to him. He had the pretext of purchasing horses. But now, he wondered if the woman he’d save would be the one offered in marriage.

  “I do bring a message from my cousin, Laird Ross. Ye have our clan’s support in whatever is needed.”

  The laird nodded. “I need a strong alliance. Without it, more of what happened to my daughter will continue.”

  “Ye think it was the doing of the Mackenzie?”

  “Not directly. But he sends men to hunt on our lands as a way to goad us into battle. Of course, declaring war would mean sending my men to slaughter, so I have been ignoring it. Now, after this…I cannot continue to do so.”

  “Did she say it was them?”

  “She has not said anything yet.” The laird wiped his hands down his face. “Will there be an alliance?”

  If Clan Fraser was about to enter a war with the Mackenzie, Ruari could not, in good conscience, align his clan with them. He pondered the best way to reply without giving the man hope.

  “Laird Ross is curious as to why ye do not align with the other Fraser Clan?”

  The laird gave a weary shrug. “They fight their own battles right now. There is little my cousins can do for us. We are aligned. As yer laird may know, even united, we are not large enough to stand against the Mackenzie.”

  Clan Ross was almost as large at the Mackenzie Clan. And now that they were aligned with Clans Munro and Monroe, they were a force to be reckoned with.

  “My laird asked me to come and speak to ye. He is
not against an alliance. But he does not wish to be drawn into battle. We have just entered a time of peace after a long time of clan clashes between us and the McLeods.”

  The Fraser stood and paced. “If my daughter dies, I will not stand idly by and ignore it.”

  “Ye do not know who is responsible for it. There is little that can be done until she tells ye.”

  Just then, Keithen returned. “The guards are formed.”

  Laird Fraser motioned to Ruari to walk with him and, together, they went outside to the courtyard. Ruari noted that the men present were well armed. With grim expressions, they probably expected a call to war.

  Ruari leaned into the laird’s ear. “Unless ye are prepared to send them all to their deaths, I suggest a meeting between ye and the Mackenzie. I will come to show my clan’s support of yers.”

  When Laird Fraser let out a long sigh and nodded, Ruari felt assured he had done the right thing. It could be there was a way to help the small clan without having to marry the man’s daughter.

  As the laird informed the guards of more stringent rules for overseeing the keep, he also chastised the men for being negligent in their duties. The men were questioned until one admitted to seeing Esme leaving that morning, but he swore he had seen a pair of guards following behind. “Who were they?” the laird asked.

  “I couldn’t tell from where I stood atop the keep,” the guard replied. “I beg yer pardon, Laird, but the men at the gates may have seen better.”

  The men who’d been on guard that morning reluctantly admitted to not keeping proper watch.

  “This is all for naught. Ye see what is wrong now? We are on the brink of being taken over and yet we act as if it is nothing.” The laird was yelling at them now, his face reddened with anger.

  While the men shifted uncomfortably, Ruari felt no pity for the lot of them.

  The laird then assigned each man to a new position. They would be guarding the keep day and night. Those that were not on guard would be at sword practice.

  The men were dispersed with instructions and the laird turned to Ruari. “Let us prepare to go visit the Mackenzie. I wish to speak to my daughter and find out as much as we can about who attacked her.”

  “May I come with ye and see how yer daughter fares?”

  The man nodded. “Aye, of course.”

  Ruari studied the determined man beside him. “Whoever injured Esme could have mistaken her for wildlife as she’d been dressed in colors that blended with the forest.”

  Understandably, the man was angry and frustrated and, sometimes, emotions clouded decisions. “I do not believe it. They wished to kill her and therefore goad me into battle. If she dies, I will not hesitate.”

  “Have ye considered whoever caused the injury did not mean to and fled, fearful they’d killed yer daughter?”

  The laird stopped in his tracks. “She left and went after two young lads from the village that I allowed to hunt.” He turned on his heel, racing back outside. “This is on my shoulders to handle now.”

  “Lars, Gavin! Go to the forest and find the two young men I allowed to hunt yesterday. Bring them here at once,” the laird called out to guards.

  He then, once again, headed back inside. “Come. Let us find out what my daughter has to say.”

  Chapter Four

  Thankfully, the pain had subsided, partly due to the vile liquid the healer had forced down her throat. Esme’s hands shook as she lifted the light bedcover to look at her bandaged body.

  Alone in the room, she struggled to remain awake. The healer had gone to make another concoction for her to take and the maid was sent to fetch water and food.

  The infernal heat that took over seemed to come and go in torturous waves. Never in her life had she felt as if she were on the brink of death as she did at the moment. She moaned more out of desperation than pain.

  It was terrifying to be alone. Why had her mother not come to see her yet?

  The door opened and her father entered. His face was etched with worry. “The healer told me ye’ve been awake. Ye should sleep and rest.”

  She closed her eyes, not sure of her ability to speak clearly. “Mother?”

  “Resting. She was too upset, and the healer thought it best for her to go to the bedchamber for a bit.”

  Esme didn’t recall her mother being there but, then again, she’d been in and out of consciousness since arriving home.

  “I need ye to concentrate,” her father said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Do ye remember who did this?”

  It was then Esme notice the other man in the room. He was larger than most men, his face tanned by the sun, broad-shouldered, with a thickly muscled neck. It was the man who’d rescued her. At the moment, she could not recall his name.

  “Esme?” her father prompted. “It is very important for me to know who did this.”

  Through the fog of her mind, she saw foliage move, arrows plunge into her body, her clothes becoming red with blood. The pain, the voices…had they said something?

  “Did ye see them?” It was her rescuer who asked.

  “I am not sure.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I had to have seen them. Why do I not remember?”

  She met the clear hazel gaze becoming lost the depths of the man’s eyes. Had she seen his eyes before? Her own eyes drooped from the effects of the tonic she’d drank.

  At hearing the man’s voice, she opened them.

  “I found ye next to a rock. Ye’d made a shelter for yerself.”

  “I remember,” Esme said, looking at him again. “Thank ye for tending to my injuries.”

  “Esme,” her father said, getting her attention. “Did ye not see who injured ye?”

  A vision of men running away formed. It was hard to say how many. She concentrated but a pang of pain shot through her, taking with it any other thought. “I do not think I saw their faces.” She panted the words out.

  “Tis best we let her rest,” the healer said, rushing in with a tray. “She is feverish and not thinking clearly. Once it lessens, it will be easier for her.”

  Esme wanted to protest the stranger leaving. She looked from her father to him. “Can he stay for a moment?”

  Her father gave her a strange look, but then nodded. “Aye, of course. The healer will remain here as well.”

  Despite the pain, Esme wanted to chuckle. As if a handsome man like the one before her would find her the least bit worth of seduction in her condition. Esme was positive that she looked a fright.

  Once her father left, the man lowered to a chair next to the bed. “I will venture to guess ye will recover fully.”

  Esme grimaced when it felt as if a part of her insides tore. “Tell that to my body. It is contradicting ye at the moment.” A moan escaped when the pain increased.

  “Who are ye? Why are ye here?”

  “Ruari Ross. I came to speak to yer father about an alliance between our clans,” the man said. “I was sent by my cousin and laird, Malcolm Ross.”

  His deep timbre distracted her from the pain for the moment. “Alliance?”

  “Aye. Yer father sent a missive to our clan asking for it. Yer clan is being threatened by Clan Mackenzie as ye probably know.”

  She nodded as a wave of heat sent rivulets of perspiration down her temples. “Why can they not leave us in peace?”

  He surprised her by taking her hand. “Tis the way of mankind. The strong overtaking who they presume to be weaker and therefore growing larger and stronger.”

  “No!” When she cried out in pain as the healer pressed down on her wound, his hold on her hand tightened. “Stay still,” Ruari instructed. “The healer is putting pressure on yer side because he is rubbing a poultice on it that will draw out any festering.”

  “Wh-why did yer…laird send ye?” Esme had wondered about it. If the clans were to align, lairds would usually send a party to discuss the matter, not one lone person. It had to mean Laird Ross was not seeking a strong alliance and had just sent his cousin as a show of
support.

  Just then, her red-faced mother hurried in. “Oh, dear,” she stopped and looked at Ruari. “What is happening with my daughter?”

  The healer looked up from Esme’s stomach. “It is painful for the poultice to be spread on the wound.”

  Her mother neared and Ruari released her hand and stood. “Lady Fraser, I am Ruari Ross…”

  “Ah, yes. Ye are the man who saved Esme’s life.” Tears spilled down her mother’s cheeks as she threw her arms around the large man. “Bless ye for it. We can never repay ye.”

  “There is no need,” Ruari replied with a soft smile. “I best go and speak to yer husband.” He looked back at Esme. “Get better.”

  Her mother lowered to the same chair Ruari had been in and took Esme’s hand in both of hers. “Ye are a strong lass. I know ye can recover.”

  Esme wanted to believe her. But as a new wave of pain rolled over her, she almost wished for the end to come so she’d not have to continue to suffer so.

  “Look at me,” her mother commanded, and she opened her eyes.

  “It hurts so much,” she said, fighting tears. “I cannot stand much more.”

  “Of course, ye can. Think about that handsome man. The way he looked at ye was endearing.”

  Only her mother, forever the romantic, would see this as an opportunity for matchmaking.

  “Was it the feverish wet face that caught his eyes?” Esme teased. But then she sobered. “I only saw pity in his eyes, Mother.”

  The healer finally finished whatever he was doing and gave her a pointed look. “I have to wrap cloths around ye. It will be uncomfortable for a moment.”

  Despite the healer’s attempts to be gentle and assisted by a maid that helped her sit up, Esme cried the entire time, her body hurting so badly that she blacked out and came to several times.

  It was much later, the sky dark outside the window, when Esme woke again. The healer’s last tincture had helped her sleep and the fever seemed to have lessened.

  The room was cool without a fire in the hearth, which felt good to her still heated body. Next to her in the chair, her mother slept quietly, refusing to leave her side even for a moment since returning.