Highlander Undone (Highland Bound Book 5) (2 page)

“Good morning, husband,” she murmured against his lips.

“A verra good morning to ye, my wife.”

“Cap-
tain
!” More banging.

Ewan sighed heavily, looking her in the eyes with irritation. “I suppose I ought to find out what the hell he wants.”

“Aye, Lachlan’s likely to have the guards break down the door if ye dinna answer it.”

“He’d be forfeiting his life if he dared.” Ewan kissed her once more. “Thank ye, love.”

“For what?” she asked.

“For making every day of my life better.”

Shona brushed the locks of hair that had fallen on his forehead back. “Ye have made my life infinitely better. Before ye, I wandered the woods of the Highlands, trying to figure out my purpose, what my fate would be, and the moment I saw ye, golden and glorious, I knew.”

“Ye flatter me, my fiery maiden.”

“I’m no maiden.” She smirked.

“Ye’re a nymph.” He chuckled.

“Captain—I’m going to get the battering ram!” Lachlan called.

“For god’s sake, man, have a care!” Ewan shouted.

Shona laughed at her husband’s restraint from cursing. “I know what ye really wanted to say.”

“I’ll be saying it to him, too, when I’m on the other side of the door.”

Ewan picked her up and tossed her onto the bed. “Stay put, woman. When I come back, I’m going to make love to ye properly.”

Shona watched him dress, listening to him grumble the entire time, and then he kissed her one last time before he left, his angry insults in the hallway toward his lieutenant making her laugh. She hopped out of bed, tiptoeing on the chilled floor toward the water basin to wash up. From the sounds of things, though he promised to come back for another session of lovemaking, Lachlan was likely to keep him for a while. There was no need to wake the captain before he was on duty unless there was a problem.

Besides, there were a few things she needed to attend to before he returned. Duty beckoned.

“What in bloody hell is so important?” Ewan growled at Lachlan.

Ewan had assessed the courtyard when he’d set his beautiful wife onto the windowsill and knew they weren’t under attack, nor did there appear to be any other issues.

As soon as the snow and ice had thawed, their laird, Logan Grant, and Guardian of Scotland, and his lady wife, Emma, had ridden to Stirling Castle to pay homage to the infant queen who’d been crowned the previous fall. Mary Queen of Scots. The king was dead. Long live the queen.

Logan and Emma been unable to make the trek previously given the state of issues with the MacDonald’s. Normally, Ewan was in charge of the guards and the castle’s defenses, but with Logan gone for the time being, he was in charge of everything.

“Apologies, captain, but it was imperative I rouse ye.” Lachlan sounded entirely too jovial about it.

“I was already roused,” Ewan said through gritted teeth.

“More apologies then for… interrupting.” Laughter echoed in his tone.

Ewan gritted his teeth and purposefully bumped Lachlan into the wall as they walked. “What is it?”

“A visitor’s come.” Lachlan righted himself, the smirk on his face damned irritating.

“Who?”

“The MacLeod.”

“
The
MacLeod? Did he say why he was here?” They didn’t have much contact with the young laird, only the warning that he and his clan wanted the wastrel Rory who’d been Shona’s caretaker for years. But Rory had been missing for nearly three years. Shona didn’t know where he was, nor did she seem to think he was as much a danger as Ranulf MacLeod said he was.

What to believe tore at Ewan. Of course he believed his wife, trusted her. And if the man had been so kind as to take her in when she was alone, and without coin, or knowledge of who she was, then he had to be a good person. But for a laird to warn them that Rory was a fugitive, to put a price on his head, well, that was a cause for concern that made Ewan’s previous opinion waver slightly.

“He didna say, only that he needed to speak with ye.”

“With me, or with the laird?”

“With ye.”

Ewan nodded curtly, refusing to think anything more on it until he had all the facts. They entered into the laird’s library where a lad, nay a man, Ewan supposed, though he couldn’t be much out of his adolescence, stood.

“Ewan Fraser?”

“Aye.” Ewan nodded to Lachlan who left the room, but would wait outside the door in case he was needed.

“Ranulf MacLeod. I’ve a need to speak with ye.”

“I’m all ears, my laird. Can I have someone bring ye refreshment?”

MacLeod shook his head. “Let me get straight to the point. Ye’re married to a woman named Shona, known to have harbored Rory MacLeod.”

Ewan kept his emotions in check. “Shona is my wife. But ye’ve got the wrong of it. She did not harbor Rory, he took her in before he disappeared three years ago.”

MacLeod continued as though Ewan had not spoken. “With your permission, I would like to question her.”

Ewan crossed his arms over his chest, giving the young man a warning look. He might be a laird, be he was not on his own land. “What about?”

“Rory’s whereabouts.”

Ewan kept his voice cool. “She doesn’t know.”

“But, she might know something.” Desperation echoed.

Ewan felt a twinge of pity for the young fool. “She doesn’t.” No way in hell was Ewan going to subject his wife to this young man’s interrogation. “If ye have any questions ye’ll have to ask me.”

MacLeod puffed out his chest. “That bastard is responsible for my parents’ deaths, as well as countless deaths within our clan. It is my right, by Highland law, that I should bring him to justice.”

Ewan nodded curtly. “I agree. But I’ve never seen this man, and my wife’s not had any knowledge of, or contact with him, in three years. He’s disappeared. Might even be dead.”

MacLeod’s frown flattened into disappointment, even a hint of anxiety.

Ewan uncrossed his arms and blew out an annoyed breath. “Look, MacLeod, I’m not trying to hold back justice on a man who deserves punishment for his sins. If I see him, ye’ll be the first one I contact. But I swear to ye, we’ve no knowledge of him at present.”

MacLeod ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Its damned frustrating.”

“I can understand that.” Ewan went to the sideboard and poured himself a dram of morning whisky. He offered some to MacLeod who declined. “When did it happen, the murders?”

“Six years ago. I’ve been searching for the bastard for
six years
. He’s like a ghost. One minute I spot him and the next, he just simply disappears. We’d thought he was hiding out in a cottage in the woods, close to this castle, but it was abandoned. I canna sleep. I can barely eat.”

Ewan poured another round and this time MacLeod asked for one. “That’s the last place we saw him.”

“Thanks,” MacLeod said, taking the offered drink. “The clan elders are encouraging me to let it go. But I canna. Rory’s betrayal left our clan helpless.”

MacLeod didn’t look like much a trailblazer. Likely his clan elders did most of the leading.

“Ye were just a lad when ye took your father’s place?”

“Aye.”

“Look, I’m no chief, but there is one thing I’ve learned being in a position of leadership.”

MacLeod sipped his whisky, watching Ewan intently.

“Ye canna let revenge lead your life. Ye canna let it rule your mind, chart the course of your actions, or the leadership within your clan. Ye must eat. Ye must learn to settle your mind in order to sleep. I hate to say it, but your elders are probably right. And ye know what?” Ewan tried to offer a smile of encouragement. “Most times, the thing ye’ve been searching so hard for, it presents itself as soon as ye stop looking.”

“So ye think I should quit?” The furrowed brow returned.

“Nay, I didna say quit. I think ye should rest a spell. Concentrate on your clan, show them ye’re willing to work with them and help them grow. Be a leader. Honor your parents. Rory cannot hide forever.”

MacLeod tossed back the rest of his whisky. “All right. But if ye see him, hear of him, ye’ll send word right away?”

“Aye. And I’ll be certain to let my chief know when he returns, in case he saw the man on his travels.”

“I thank ye, Captain Fraser.”

Ewan set their glasses back on the sideboard. “I’m sorry that tragedy has touched your family.”

“Seems inevitable, does it not? I know not one person who has not experienced tragedy.”

That sort of wisdom in a man so young had to mean there was hope for him yet. “Aye, this is true.”

Ewan thought of Shona, waiting for him upstairs. How much had she endured? She didn’t even remember all of it, but it must have been dreadful if her mind wanted to keep it from her.

“I’ll have the kitchen pack a few provisions for your return journey,” Ewan said.

MacLeod waved his hand in denial. “That will not be necessary. I should journey back to Skye right away. I’ve been gone long enough now.”

Ewan reached out to shake MacLeod’s arm. He was little more than a lad, and Ewan felt slightly sorry for him.

“Good luck, MacLeod.”

“My thanks. For more than just agreeing to look for any sign of Rory, but for what ye said. It’s high time I stepped into my father’s boots.”

And then the lad was gone and Ewan was left staring out of the library window toward the loch beyond. Rory would not have been the first man to simply disappear. If a man was skilled enough, he could live a life in the shadows for decades.

Ewan had been unable to brush off the haunting shadow of his wife’s companion and protector from the moment he’d met her all the way until today, and he was afraid he never would. He owed Rory his thanks for having kept Shona safe for all those years, but he also wanted answers. Ewan just couldn’t believe that Rory was as evil as MacLeod thought he was, but neither could he disbelieve MacLeod who seemed genuinely disturbed.

From what Ewan understood, the young laird had not been with his parents when they’d been murdered. The clan elders had swept him to safety when the siege broke out. Rory had been a captain of the guard, just like Ewan himself.

What would make a captain turn on his laird and mistress?

There was nothing that would make Ewan turn on Logan and Emma. He simply couldn’t. That meant Rory had to have some of the answers. Answers none of them may ever get if he simply vanished into the ether.

Ewan watched the ripples on the surface of the loch below. For as long as he could remember, he’d loved to watch the ripples. There was always the hope that Nessie would show her beautiful, sleek head. He remembered being a young lad, several years younger than MacLeod and swearing he’d seen the long neck rise from the depth of the loch. He couldn’t remember much else from his youth. His earliest memories were waking in the loch, scrambling with the water for his life. He’d managed to swim to the edge, grab hold of tree roots and hoist himself, battered and drained, from the water. Once on land, he’d passed out, was rescued by crofters, only to be woken by Logan’s face peering down into his when they brought him to the castle. Logan had insisted that Ewan remain with him. Ewan’s laird was his savior, his dearest friend and family. Granted, not all captains had a relationship as close with their laird as Ewan had with his, but he’d never met one who wouldn’t have laid down his life for his leader. Not one.

That was why Ewan couldn’t let this go. There had to be more to the story. More to what happened out on the marsh when the Laird and Lady of MacLeod were butchered. If anything, Ewan owed it to his wife to try and find the answers.

“Where are ye Rory MacLeod?”

Chapter Two

“Who is that?” Shona asked one of the other maids as they exited from the granary where they’d been gathering supplies.

As predicted the sun had warmed the air tremendously, and she breathed in the scent of peat and the crispness of coming spring. No longer would she fear frostbite as she worked.

“I think that’s MacLeod.”

Shona’s stomach flipped, and air gushed from her lungs so quickly, she coughed. “
Laird
MacLeod?”