A Very Highland Holiday - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,69
match for that cat. She’d have had them begging for mercy.”
“How did ye manage to have yourself captured, then?” Fiona asked, as though inquiring about why he’d been late for tea one afternoon. “If ye were so hardened by your cat?”
“Oh, you know. Helping a friend.” The aftermath of Culloden rose in Stuart’s mind. Jacobite soldiers were fleeing, after those who’d surrendered and laid down arms were slaughtered where they stood. His childhood friend, Calum, had been half dead, unable to run. Stuart had lingered to drag him away when four of Cumberland’s men had surrounded them. Calum, already dying, had flung himself at the soldiers, and they’d cut him down. Stuart had attacked, bellowing a fierce cry, and had fought, enraged, before he’d been felled by a blow to the head.
“Still don’t know why the soldiers didn’t kill me outright,” Stuart said, lightening his tone to hide his anger. “But they tied me up and took me off, first to an outbuilding, later marching me to a ship to journey south. Ended up in prison with Willie Mackenzie. Good thing. His brother Alec and the lady he married wrested us free, and I fled with all of them to Paris.”
“Mackenzies?” Fiona asked in surprise. “I thought Will and Alec perished, along with the rest of the family.”
“So did I, but there was Alec, opening the door of my cell, and Will chivvying us all out. Indestructible, is Will Mackenzie.”
“It appears you are too.” Fiona’s voice lowered, “I read your name on the rolls. Captured. I was sure you’d be hanged.”
“As was I, lady. But here I am.”
She frowned at him, though she blinked, her eyes moist. “Walking right back into danger.”
“I intend to stay out of it. Find Padruig his trophy and be about my business.”
“Ah.”
Stuart glanced quickly at Fiona, hoping he heard regret in her voice. He did not tell her that when he next vanished, he’d ask her to come with him. If she said no, he’d simply have to convince her, and he could come up with some very creative methods …
“Another reason for riding a horse,” Fiona interrupted his thoughts. “Is that I can see farther than I can on foot. For instance, a few Black Watch and one English soldier are waiting for us around the next bend.”
Chapter Four
Fiona’s heart pumped faster as Stuart put his hand on Piseag’s bridle to halt her, and whistled softly between his teeth. Gair hurried back to them, and Padruig gathered close.
Fiona tried to stay calm, forcing herself not to beg Stuart to hide, to flee back to the inn. He could blend in with the throng there and escape during the Christmas revelry.
Stuart’s face set in stubborn lines, his blue eyes quiet as he withdrew into himself. Fiona watched him leave the carefree, laughing, impetuous Highlander behind and become the honed and deadly soldier.
They stood in a thick stand of trees, the land sloping sharply upward on their right, downward on the left. At the scrape of boots of the approaching soldiers, Stuart left the track, fading noiselessly into the uphill woods, his dark coat blending with the black rocks and boles of trees among the snow.
Padruig seized Piseag’s bridle, and Una moved restlessly behind Fiona.
The soldiers rounded the bend and stopped in surprise. No officers, Fiona thought with relief. Just infantrymen, possibly heading for their camp or perhaps even Balthazar’s inn, anticipating a warm room and a draught of ale.
No worries that the soldiers would search her bag, Fiona reflected. Stuart still had it on his back and he was gone.
The three Black Watch, in their kilts—the tartan ban did not extend to them—looked more annoyed than worried when they beheld Fiona and party. Fiona’s idea that they were heading to camp or the inn to go off-duty solidified.
The Englishman with them, in the red coat of Something-or-Other Foot, appeared as anxious to push past them as the others, but it was his duty to stop and question any Scots person on the road.
The four formed a barrier across the track, the Englishman slightly to one side, as though ready to let the Black Watch deal with any trouble.
One of the Black Watch soldiers lifted his rifle from his shoulder and aimed it vaguely at them. “No farther. Who are ye, and what’s your business on this road?”
“I don’t call it much of a road.” Gair spat to the side of it. “We’re taking this lady safely to shelter. It’s brutal cold, if ye’d not noticed.”