Claiming the Highlander (8 page)

“And just what do you be meaning by that, Davis MacDowd?” Jamie asked in a low, lethal tone.

Davis stammered as he regarded the four angry
brothers united in defense of their baby sister. “I didn’t mean much. It’s just… you know yourself that no man here has ever courted her.”

The words only served to make the brothers’ faces even redder, their bodies more tense as they regarded the men around them.

“And what’s wrong with my little sister?” Duncan took up the challenge.

“First, she’s not much to look at,” Fergus said. “And second, she’s off in the head. Look what she’s gone and done with the women! Not to mention, she attacked me in the kirk when I went to see my wife.”

The words set off total chaos in the hall as the four brothers growled in rage, then attacked their clansmen.

Lochlan joined the fray, trying to bring peace to his men. Curses and shouts rang through the hall, along with the sounds of fists striking flesh, and breaking furniture.

Lochlan had never in his life seen such a melee.

The urge to cross the room and remove his sword from the mantel was strong, but he didn’t truly want to hurt any of them. He did, however, want them to exercise a little restraint.

As Lochlan struggled to pull the brothers from the fray, five men set upon him at once. Before Lochlan could extract himself from their beefy hands, they seized him and set him down hard in a chair before the hearth.

“What are you doing?” Lochlan demanded as
three of the men held him in place while two others grabbed ropes.

The answer was plain.

After a few more minutes, Maggie’s four brothers were seated next to him, the five of them trussed up like birds for the slaughter.

Cursing them all, Lochlan struggled against the ropes which bound him to the chair. If he ever got out of this, they would pay dearly for their actions.

Fergus and the others looked down upon them with evil smiles. “Now it’s time we find us a laird who can actually handle the—”

“What in the name of Satan’s hairy toes is this?”

Fergus’s face paled at the sound of the deep bellow.

Settling down, Lochlan breathed a sigh of relief at Braden’s appearance.

But his relief was short-lived.

The mob turned on Braden with a vengeance. Their angry voices again reached a deafening tone.

Until a loud whistle sounded.

The men settled down, and they drifted back, making a path from Braden to Lochlan and Maggie’s brothers.

His face a mask of fury, Braden stepped forward and eyed the crowd. “Would someone care to explain to me why my brother, your laird, is tied to a chair?”

A wave of sheepishness washed through the men. Except for Fergus. He moved forward to confront Braden. “We want this matter with the women settled.”

“And you think tying Lochlan to a chair is the best way to accomplish this?”

Lochlan smiled. With Braden here, he allowed himself to see the ridiculousness of the situation.

Fergus looked shamed.

Shaking his head, Braden started for Lochlan’s chair. But a big, burly Enos stepped out of the crowd to block him. “Your brother isn’t going anywhere until my wife is back inside my home, tending our children, warming my bed and cooking me some food worth eating.”

“Aye,” Fergus shouted. “I say we kill the laird and take our women back!”

The men quickly took up Fergus’s shout of “Kill the laird, kill the laird.”

Lochlan held his breath, afraid of what the obsessed mob might do. Damn, but he should have grabbed his sword while he had the chance.

“Whoa!” Braden shouted over them, until he shushed them once more. “Have you lost all your wits? That’s your laird you’re speaking of. The man all of you have sworn to follow and protect with your lives.”

“He stands between us and our women!”

Braden took a deep breath as he regarded the sea of angry men. This was quickly getting out of
hand. And if he didn’t stop it soon, there was no telling what they might do.

Sweet Mother Mary, what had Maggie started?

“Now let’s be reasonable for just a moment, men,” Braden tried again. “Killing Lochlan won’t get your women back. They’ve sworn an oath to each other and that oath has nothing to do with his life.”

“Fine, then,” Fergus said. “We’ll kill him, send Ewan to the MacDouglas, and have our women home by week’s end.”

“Aye!”

“Aye, hell!” Braden roared. “You kill my brothers and you’ll have me to deal with.”

Fergus snorted as he raked a cold look over Braden’s body. “Is that a threat? You’re but one man against all of us.”

Braden returned the cold glare with one of his own. “Aye. I’m one man with a full garrison of troops sitting rather nicely entrenched on my English lands. Trained knights and soldiers ready to march at my command. You touch one hair on Lochlan’s head and I can promise you, I’ll see every one of you in your grave.”

That gave them pause. At last, Braden had found the one thing to reach through their stubbornness.

“You know, Fergus,” Davis said, “he does have those lands that tie MacAllister loyalty to England, and the English king might not take it
kindly if we attack him, especially now that the MacAllister is on peaceful terms with King Henry.”

“Then what do you want?” Fergus asked him and the others. “We let the laird go and then just wait? I’m sick of waiting. Me bairns are screaming for their mother.”

“He’s right about that,” Enos said. “I’ve heard his brood crying myself.”

“Look,” Braden interjected. “I was trying to work out a truce with Maggie.”

Enos spat on the ground. “I say burn that witch.”

“Aye,” the men shouted in unison. “Burn the witch. Burn the witch.”

“Burn the witch and her ugly shoes too!” Enos shouted.

Braden frowned at him.

“Well, they are ugly,” Enos said defensively.

“Would you stop!” Braden shouted. “First you want to kill my brother, and now you’re after Maggie. And her shoes. Is there anything short of bloodshed that would bring this matter to a conclusion?”

The imbeciles actually paused to think. And from their faces Braden could see just how much effort they were having to give it.

“I swear by the eternal saints,” Braden muttered under his breath. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to get Maggie for doing this to all of us.”

Now what was he to do? He’d come here to bicker a settlement with Lochlan, not the entire clan.

“Well,” Fergus said to him at last. “What do you think we should do?”

Braden had absolutely no idea, but since one of the men still held a sword a little too close to Lochlan’s throat, he didn’t think this was the time to say that aloud.

“I’ll go back and talk to Maggie.” Which would be like arguing with a wall.

Or these men.

And of course he had no idea what to say to her, since he already knew just where she stood on the matter.

Braden ground his teeth in frustration. How on earth would he ever get this settled?

And at this point, he was tired of walking back and forth to the castle and the kirk. Enough was enough.

Sighing disgustedly, he started back through the men.

“You better not tup our sister!” Duncan snarled at him. “Or you’ll be having us to deal with, Braden MacAllister!”

Braden paused midstride, turned back around, and looked at Maggie’s brothers drolly. “Could I please just deal with one threat of death at a time?”

Duncan pursed his lips as he strained against
the ropes holding him down. But luckily, the boy held his tongue.

Braden paused as he regarded the five of them by the hearth. He couldn’t walk off and leave them tied up like that.

He turned to face Fergus. “Let them go and I’ll—”

“We’ll be doing no such thing,” Fergus responded, interrupting him. “How do we know you’re really going to talk to that she-witch and bring them out?”

“You have my word on it.”

Fergus snorted. “If it didn’t involve a woman, I might accept that. But as it is, we’ll be keeping your brother tied where he is until you return with the women behind you.”

Now, why didn’t that thought comfort him in the least?

“And if Maggie refuses?” Braden asked.

Fergus folded his arms over his chest. “We’ll give you four days to convince her. If in that time the women aren’t back in our homes …” His voice trailed off.

Fergus swept a look around the men watching him. “Well, you’ll have to be reaching that English army, I’m thinking. If we kill you here, then they can’t come and be commanded by no spirit.”

That was one small flaw to his logic Braden hadn’t considered. And it was one hell of a time for Fergus to find his brains and finally use them.

“Four days?” Braden repeated.

“Aye. Four days.”

Well, it was a step up from Lochlan’s deadline. Briefly, he wondered what he could do to get another two days. If his luck held he might actually gain enough time to think of some way out of this mess.

“All right,” Braden said. “I’ll have the women out in four days.”

Sure you will. Why not just promise them you can walk on water while you’re at it? Or turn the fishes into loaves of bread?

Hush, self, I’ve got enough to worry over without your intrusion.

And worried, he was. Because at the moment, Lochlan, Ewan and Maggie’s lives were all depending on him. And for the first time in his life, he was beginning to doubt his ability to handle a situation.

“That’s it!” Pegeen snapped, rising from the dining table and heading for the door. “I’ve had enough of this. I’m going home and no one’s to stop me this time.”

Maggie grabbed Pegeen’s arm as she started past her and held the woman by her side. “Now, what’s this about?”

Pegeen gestured back to the table where she’d sat eating, and to the old woman who had been sitting by her side. “I’m sick of Old Edna. She’s
been doing nothing but clicking her teeth while she eats. I’m sick of it. It’s disgusting.”

“And I’m sick of not seeing my babes,” Merry chimed in from her seat in the left corner. “I haven’t seen my sons in so long, I’m afraid they’ll forget all about me. For all I know, Davis isn’t washing their clothes or their faces. And I bet my home is dirtier than a sty.”

The wails and complaints were taken up by the rest of the women. Their loud whines bounced off the walls and rang in Maggie’s ears.

Suddenly the large refectory seemed to be closing in on her, the brightly colored walls, much smaller than they had appeared when she had first sat down.

Maggie felt a sudden urge to place her hands over her ears and scream.

Why, even Aisleen started complaining. And up until now, Aisleen had been Maggie’s most steadfast supporter.

“Poor Lochlan is probably at his wits’ end on how to cope in the castle,” Aisleen said. “He’s never had to worry over cooking and such. He’s our laird and shouldn’t be put out so.”

“Silence!” Maggie shouted.

To her amazement, they quieted and looked at her as if she’d lost her wits. And at the moment, Maggie wondered it as well. Surely she must have been mad ever to think this scheme would work.

“Now, Aisleen,” she said to Lochlan’s mother. “I’m sure our laird is just fine. He’s a grown man in charge of all our lives. I would think he, of all men, could figure out how to make a simple bowl of porridge.”

Aisleen looked less than convinced, but she tucked her chin to her chest and sat back down.

Maggie took a deep breath and surveyed the other women. “As for the rest of you, you ought to be ashamed. How many times a day must we go through this? I thought we had all agreed.”

“We agreed,” Merry said petulantly as she picked at her roasted chicken. “But you told us the men wouldn’t go more than a week without us. Well, it’s been much longer than a week and there’s no end in sight.”

“Aye! Our men need us,” they cried in unison.

“I need my man!”

Laughter broke out from the group.

Maggie cocked her brow at the last comment, unable to distinguish the voice.

Grateful for the break in the seriousness of the moment, she sighed. “I know you’re all tired. As am I.”

“Then let us go home,” Pegeen begged.

Maggie rose to her feet. “Do you truly wish to go back home and hand the swords to your husbands and sons as they head off to battle to die?”

The women grew silent.

Maggie nodded. “‘Tis what I thought.”

“But Maggie,” Edna said. “What if they refuse
to end this? How much longer are we to wait? I have a garden to tend and berries to preserve for winter. Soon we’ll have waited an entire month here while our work and families go neglected. At what point do we surrender?”

“Aye!” Merry chimed in again. “All of us know how obstinate men are. They’d sooner set fire to the kirk than admit they’re wrong.”

“What if they do come after us?” another woman asked. “How long will they wait before they punish us for this?”

Maggie closed her eyes in frustration as the women voiced her own concerns and questions. Questions to which she had absolutely no answers.

When she’d started all this, she had never anticipated the daily fights necessary to keep the women on her side.

How could they not see what she herself saw?

“It will end before much longer,” Maggie assured them. Her stomach drew tight as she remembered Braden’s deadline. God help her then, for she was sure the other women would go home relatively unscathed, but there was no telling what the men would do to her over this.

“When?” Edna asked.

“Soon. I’m just asking all of you to trust me for a few more days.”

Edna pierced her with a glare. “My trust is wearing thin, lass.”

Maggie could appreciate that, since her own
patience had been stretched so thin it was close to breaking. “Give me a few more days to see what I can do.”

“All right,” Pegeen said, moving back to her seat by Edna. “But don’t you be asking for much more than that. I have a home to see to.”

Maggie nodded, her heart heavy. Saints help her, she had no idea how to conclude this.

What she needed was help.

She searched through her mind, but only one possibility came to her.