Highlander's Faerie (Highlander Heat #5)

“Lachlan wouldnae think twice about it, Arthur. Using her as leverage to gain an advantage against the MacDonalds is imperative. Our numbers have been severely depleted from our last battle and we cannae win this war through the usual means.”


“She is still a MacLean.” Arthur stepped toward her and extended his hand. “It appears you’ll be here to stay for a while. Welcome to Duart.”

“Thank you.” She tucked her bag over her shoulder and took his hand.

He swung her onto the landing beside him and her legs shook from being confined to one position for so long. “Are you well?” He kept a steadying hand on her elbow as she wobbled.

“I’m not used to being at sea or traveling for such a long length of time across water.”

“Then come. You’ll no doubt enjoy a warm bath and a meal.” He led her across the pebbly beach and toward the trail. They followed the path up the grassy rise then strode past flickering torches mounted against the stone walls of the bailey.

From the direction of the entrance, a boisterous buzz of voices echoed toward her and she took a deep, fortifying breath and entered the great hall. The vaulted room held high wooden beamed rafters, and the walls were covered with beautiful tapestries, of hunting and landscape scenes. The sight of trestle tables stacked with platters of cooked meat, boiled eggs, and bread, made her empty belly rumble. On wooden benches, a good hundred warriors or more sat, while serving maids carrying trays holding steaming bowls of stew, weaved around them. This clan thrived even though they’d suffered the imprisonment of their chief and the loss of a number of their men in the recent battle.

“There’s Margaret.” Arthur urged her toward the dais where a woman stood, her gaze on them as they crossed the room. Margaret looked so similar to Mary with her pale complexion, freckled cheeks, and red-gold locks tumbling down to her waist, except this woman wasn’t carrying as Mary was. Tall and lithe, her corseted red velvet gown hugged her trim waist, the red and gold silk ribbons lacing the front an entwining of rich colors. “The chief’s wife will tend you during your stay, of which I shall decide the manner, and how long it shall be. Margaret.” Arthur laid his hand on the woman’s shoulder and gestured toward her. “Meet Lachlan’s faerie, Katherine MacLean. She was present at the battle of the Rhinns, and Finlay has returned with her from Islay.”

Margaret’s eyes widened. “Arthur, please, dinnae tell me Finlay stole her away from the MacDonalds.”

“She insists she came willingly.”

“It’s all right, I did.” She stepped up to Margaret and lifted Mary’s talisman for her to see. “This amulet is Mary’s, recently gifted to me. She was most grateful for your kindness to her son while he remained here during the negotiations to free his father. Mary told me to seek you out.”

She cast her gaze over the piece. “Aye, ’tis the same amulet she placed around her son’s neck when she sent him here. Did my sister-by-marriage have another request of me?”

“I’m to ask you for aid.”

“Then let’s speak in private. Excuse us, Arthur.” Margaret led her toward the stairwell then slowed as a maid walked toward her. “Maddie, I need you to prepare a bath for our guest, and be as quick as you can about it. Mistress Katherine’s to have the blue chamber next to mine.”

“Aye, my lady.” The girl dashed upstairs.

“Margaret,” Arthur called, his arms crossed and his booted feet planted wide. “I’ll post a guard at her door. Our guest is no’ permitted free reign to wander about Duart. With the laird away, I’m responsible for this clan and she has come forth from the MacDonalds’ lair.”

“Of course.” Margaret tightened her grip on Katherine. “This way.” She hurried up the winding stairs, guided her down a dimly lit passageway and slowed as ahead, two lanky lads with their shirttails fluttering loose over their breeches, heaved a tub through a doorway.

They entered the chamber and the lads set the tub down and shuffled out. Across the room, Maddie knelt at the hearth, coaxing the sparks of a welcoming fire into life. She added a log and it crackled and caught alight.

Rising, she dusted her hands against her aproned sides. “Is there aught more you need, my lady?”

Margaret nodded. “Aye, a tray, and to fetch some gowns from my ambry. It appears our guest has arrived with very little clothing.”

Maddie bobbed her head and quietly closed the door behind her.

“Thank you. I had to leave Dunyvaig rather suddenly and I have just what’s on me.” She set the satchel with the meager supplies Marie had given her on the end of the four-poster bed with its rich burgundy velvet canopy. “I’m truly glad to be here.”