Highlander's Guardian (Highlander Heat #4)

“And he’ll have it. What do you need?”


“Lachlan will be waiting for us at midnight on the night of the masquerade.” He took a gulp of ale. “I’ll meet you and Murdock at the rear of the stables on the morrow’s eve. Sneak in amongst the other guests and keep your identities hidden.” Suspicion would naturally fall on him and Arthur once they’d escaped with their chief, but there was naught he could do about that, not when his course was now set.

“Will do. The clan will be pleased when we return with our chief.”

“Which will also be when the battle truly begins. The king will send his men after us, of that I have no doubt.”

“The king needs to leave us be to settle our disputes as we see fit.” Ian’s words rumbled fierce and low.

Like his men, Colin too detested the king’s desire to stamp his mark of ownership on the isles, to control them as he did the rest of Scotland. “Lachlan will be freed, and very soon.” He clapped his man on the back. “We shouldnae linger here for long.”

“Aye, Captain. I’ll see you the night of the ball.” Ian stood and quietly snuck out of the inn, his hood pulled low.

Giving Ian time to ride clear, Colin finished his drink. As he was about to stand, the front door opened and a gust of wind tore in along with two hulking warriors. Both wore the MacDonald plaid, the man at the head none other than Hugh, Donald’s nephew and James’s cousin. The warrior was hard to miss with his oily black hair plastered to his head and red bulbous nose. Only what was Hugh doing so far from Holyrood when he too awaited word of when he could speak to his captured chief?

Intrigued, Colin tugged his hooded cloak lower and slid deeper into the shadows.

Hugh and his man eased into the screened compartment in front of him. The MacDonalds spoke in hushed tones, though with their deep Erse brogue, he could still make out their conversation.

“The MacLeod chit is out riding with James. I saw her and a contingency of Rory MacLeod’s guardsmen leave with my cousin and his men. I dinnae know what James intends, but she’s no’ for him.” Hugh thumped his fist on the tabletop.

“I cannae believe the MacLeod chief has given her the freedom to choose her own husband, but well that works in our favor,” the other man answered.

Hell, the men’s voices were eerily similar to the two who’d walked past Annie’s chamber the night afore and spoken of tracking her in the woods. ’Twas the MacDonalds who schemed and intended to make Annie a pawn in the war between their clans.

The barmaid returned, leaned over Hugh and gave him a lush view of her ample assets. “Can I offer either of ye men some of the inn’s fine fare?”

“Aye, you can,” Hugh smirked as he grabbed her breasts and squeezed them. “Do you have a chamber, lass? I wish to enjoy in private.”

The wench giggled. “Above-stairs, and one all to myself.”

Hugh shoved to his feet and followed the maid while his man took a position at the base of the stairs to wait.

Colin tapped his leg. Surely Annie couldn’t be out riding with James. Aye, she’d gone riding, but not with his arch enemy, or at least she better not have. He gritted his teeth, slid out of the booth and with his hood still in place, skirted the room and left as discreetly as he could.

If Annie had placed herself in harm’s way, he’d lock her in her chamber and throw away the key.



The heavens opened and the rain pounded down as Annie rode hard beside James through the forest. The weather had turned fast, but their race to The King’s Tavern energized her.

James heaved his horse up before a swollen river and yelled over the whistling wind, “This burn is usually passable here, but with the rain sluicing down from the hills the stream rises fast. Do you still wish to continue on?”

“We’re too close to turn back.” The rushing water wouldn’t stop her. She urged her horse down the bank and plowed through. Waves surged around her palfrey’s flanks, but she patted its neck and nudged it up the other side of the bank.

“We seem to have lost the others, but they cannae be too far behind.” James joined her, his mount swishing its tail and sending a spray of water flinging through the air.

Behind her, a mist descended and smothered the trees. No sign of their party. “The storm worsens. I cannae see them either, but they know where we’re headed and I’m sure they’ll follow.” Soaked through yet still excited, she grinned. “Come, James. Our race is no’ yet done.”

“Aye, to The King’s Tavern,” he bellowed and chuckled.

She spurred her horse on and James rode hard on her heels.

They galloped through the trees another furlong or two then crested a rise. Nestled ahead amongst the towering pine and elm trees, a quaint stone building with smoke puffing from its chimney, beckoned. This would be the perfect spot to enjoy the midday meal.