The Fearless Highlander (Highland Defender Book 1) (29 page)

“Yes—but to whom should be
my
choice. Not his.”

A thick ball formed in Hugh’s throat as he shook his head. No matter how much he wanted Charlotte to stay, he couldn’t let her spend her precious coin on his clan. So much remained uncertain and unresolved. They still lived in fear of being attacked by government troops—especially the Campbells, the Menzies, hell, even Colonel Hill could fall upon them in the dead of night. But now she’d purchased the sheep and driven them all the way from Fort William, there was little point in sending them back. “I must repay you.” That was the only answer.

“Repay?” Her mouth dropped open with a wee gasp. “Do you retract your proposal of marriage?”

“I wish—I wish.” God, the disappointment and misery reflecting in her expressive eyes was more than Hugh could bear. “Damnation! I must have your father’s approval afore we can wed.”

He tried to take her hands, but she jerked away. “Why? Is not my love enough for you?”

Christ, he’d rip out his heart and hand it to her on a platter if she asked. He spread his palms, desperate for her to understand. “For me, your love is all I want in this world, but you ken I have a clan to protect. Your father is the
only
government officer in all of Scotland who gives the slightest damn about us. If I off and marry you without his blessing, I am condemning my people to a life as fugitives. We might as well sail to the Americas to be slaves on tobacco plantations—just as the Master of Stair offered.”

Shaking her head, she clapped a hand over her mouth. “But if I return to Fort William, Papa will send me away on the first transport.”

Bloody hell, he didn’t want that. “You must try to stall.” This time Hugh didn’t allow her to shirk away. He pulled her into his arms. Closing his eyes, he savored every inch of her small frame. God, why did she have to be the daughter of the Governor of Fort William? Why could she not be a simple lass from his clan. “Och,
mo leannan
, what am I to do with you?”

She took in a stilted gasp. “Love me.”

“I do.” He squeezed his eyes against the pain in his heart and kissed her forehead. She had no idea how difficult it was for him to send her away. “On the morrow, you must ride with Farley.”

Two big, violet eyes bore into his soul. “There must be some other way.”

There was only one alternative—and Charlotte was the only woman for whom he’d give up the fight. “We can give up and go to the Americas. Do you want that?”

“Of course I do not. Glencoe is your home and I want it to be my home, too.” She rested her head against his chest. “A pardon will come. I know it in my heart. The king is being severely criticized about his brutality toward you. He must do something soon to bolster his reputation.”

A bit of tension eased from Hugh’s shoulders as he slid his hand along her spine. “Then that makes my position more resolute.”

“My father’s letters have already been sent. Surely it is only a matter of time.”

He cupped Charlotte’s cheeks with both of his hands. “’Tis exactly what I’m trying to say. I want it all, my love, and if we do it right, we will have it and our bairns will grow up in the valley of Glencoe, just as they have for generations past. Please, this is my mother’s dying wish, and the only woman in the world I want to share it with is you.”

She bit her bottom lip, worry creasing her brow. “Even if Papa sends me to London?”

He met her gaze with every shred of determination in his soul. “There is no place in this world I will not find you.”

***

The bonfire roared while Charlotte stared into the leaping flames. How could everyone around her be so merry? Farley had brought a cask of whisky and people were laughing like she’d never heard before—it was as if they had taken three months of misery and let it go with the smoke from the fire.

So many things had change during her absence. Sima—Breac and Nessa’s baby could now sit up. Lean-to shelters had been built around the edge of the clearing, allowing the families more privacy—there were even more new faces.

It seemed everyone appreciated her efforts aside from Hugh, showing each other their new blankets (belting them as arisaids for the women or kilts for the men) or shirts that Charlotte had mended or shoes or stockings. Hugh hadn’t taken a single thing for himself. He just sat beside her staring into the fire and sipping his whisky. Didn’t he know how much she’d labored to please him? Didn’t he know she’d stolen her dowry funds for him?

I stole from my father
.

Heat spread across the back of her neck along with a sinking in the pit of her stomach.

But the money was mine. Curses, I would do it again if given the chance.

She peeked at Hugh out of the corner of her eye. He just continued to sit there and gaze into the fire. They only had one miserable night together and he was completely ignoring her.
Blast him
.

Then he looked her way. Charlotte quickly averted her eyes so he wouldn’t notice her staring at him.

He pointed to her trencher. “You hardly ate a thing.”

She shrugged and pushed the lamb away. “Not hungry.”

“Charlotte, I—”

“Slàinte to Miss Charlotte,” Gavyn hollered.

Hugh raised his cup. “Slàinte,” he chorused with the others, but the smile on his face strained. Why was he being so difficult? Didn’t he know if she returned to Fort William now her father would do everything in his power to prevent their marriage?

A drum sounded.

On the far side of the fire, Breac beat a hollowed log with a hide stretched across it. The drum thumped in a rousing rhythm.

Alasdair Og beckoned his brother. “I challenge our leader to a sword dance!”

The clearing erupted with boisterous cheers and applause. Lachlan hopped up and danced a jig. “I want to dance, too!”

Hugh glanced at Charlotte with a bit more vim in his eye, then smirked at his brother. “You reckon you can leap higher than me?”

“I ken it.”

“No,” shouted young Lachlan. “Our chieftain is the brawest man in all the Highlands.”

Hugh grinned. “I like your spirit, lad. But Og is a worthy opponent.” He bowed to Charlotte. “If you’ll pardon me, m’lady.”

She nodded. Now everyone around the fire was in good spirits except her. Cuddy sauntered over and plopped down in the spot Hugh vacated, laying his head in Charlotte’s lap. She scratched the deerhound behind the ears. “You wouldn’t send me away, would you?”

He yowled and licked her hand—at least the dog understood.

When the laughter died down, the drum beat a steady rhythm while the crowd parted for Hugh and Alasdair Og. Side by side they marched forward, each holding two rusty swords with blades crossed. They bowed and placed them in a cross on the ground.

The drumbeat sped as the men danced, their plaids swishing with every athletic leap. Hugh’s predatory gaze focused intently on her as he danced. He may have been despondent when sitting beside her, but now embroiled in a contest of fineness and strength, his stare captured Charlotte in his web and she didn’t dare look away. The powerful muscles in his calves flexed and bulged with his every step. Indeed, he did leap higher than his brother. With every jump, Hugh grew stronger, his grin growing broader while the amber firelight flickered over his powerful form as if the flames heightened his performance.

Blast his incredibly desirable physique. Must he be so intoxicatingly alluring? And why did everything about this day have to turn out all wrong? She’d been so excited to return with the flock that they so badly needed—and she’d been able to acquire it for them. But why did she feel as if she’d committed a crime? When Hugh sat beside her, he was despondent—unbending in his decision to send her back to Fort William and her father’s wrath. Now, across the fire, he didn’t even blink, seducing her with a dance—a display of masculine skillfulness.

Charlotte’s face grew so hot, she pushed to her feet. Hugh drew his brows together in question. Did he not understand? Watching him only brought torture. She’d done everything she could to make him happy—to help him gain a new foothold, and all he could do was insist on her returning to Fort William? How many more months of separation must she endure? Years? For all she knew, it could be forever.

She blindly ran into the forest, desperate to flee the celebrations. Yes, she wanted the clan to revive. Yes, more than anything she wanted Hugh to be happy, but he was sending her back to a life of misery. Didn’t he know how much she hated Fort William?

Was Papa right? Should she have settled and married the physician?

No.

Tears burned her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. She’d been so thrilled—thought her efforts would make Hugh happy, too.
Blast his pride!

After climbing and falling and running to nowhere, she raced into the clearing with the pool. Still as glass, it took on an inky void in the moonlight—a void as deep and wide as the abyss in her heart. Charlotte fell to her knees and buried her face in her palms as she wept. Her stomach convulsed as if it had been ripped inside out. Her heart ached. Lord in heaven, nothing would ever be the same again. She would return to Fort William and Papa would force her into a convent or worse. Mayhap he’d even send her to the Americas alone as a slave to the tobacco trade. Oh no, Hugh would never find her there. She’d be lost forever.

“Charlotte!” Hugh burst from the foliage and dashed to her side. Dropping beside her, he wrapped her in his embrace.

“Nooooo!” She pushed away, but hadn’t the strength to fight his powerful arms as they encircled her. Curses, must his body be so incredibly warm? Must he smell like wood smoke and spice? Why couldn’t he be vile and vulgar like the monster the Master of Stair had painted him to be?

Between stuttering gasps for air, she found enough strength to take in one deep gulp. “Go away!”

“Please, Charlotte. Did you not see the happy faces around the campfire? Do you not know how much they appreciate all you have done for them?”

“For t-them?” Sucking in staccato breaths she tried to speak. “’T-tis all f-for youuuu.”

Pulling her into his lap, Hugh cocooned her in his enormous arms, rocking back and forth, whispering into her hair. “I ken my love. Please don’t cry.”

On and on he rocked, whispering in an accursed, soft, male, wonderful, damned voice while Charlotte bawled, completely unable to bring herself under control. There she was, a worthless, blubbering mess, too distraught to push him away.

“Hush now,” he whispered as her breathing slowed to a cadence of hiccups.

“You do not…appreciate….meeee.” She tried to fight again but failed, blast his iron grip. “You say you love me but you do nooooooooot.” A new bout of wails gripped her stomach.

His hand smoothed up and down her spine, feeling too darned good. “I do love you. I do love you.” Hugh repeated over and over again. “I promise we will solve this. I swear on my father’s grave I will not rest until we are together again. Can you not allow me a wee bit of time?”

She nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. She didn’t want to agree, but what else could she do? She couldn’t stay when Hugh didn’t want her there. Lord, upon her return, Papa would launch into the worst tirade ever.

Hugh’s arms relaxed as he let out a long sigh. “Our time will come soon, my love.”

Charlotte wanted to believe him. If only she could convince Papa to allow her to stay on at Fort William through the summer. But she’d ruined her chances there. Her heart squeezed. By taking her dowry, she’d lost his trust, and though she knew her father to be a just man, he would punish her disloyalty severely.

Saying goodbye to Charlotte was always one of the hardest things Hugh had ever done. But this time it was worse. After mounting her horse, she scarcely gave him a look. Last night, he’d repeated a hundred times that he loved her. But she continued to push him away. Dammit, Hugh knew she didn’t want to go. He could only pray that, in time, she’d realize this was for the best. Until things settled and he got back on his feet, she’d live in comfort. This separation was necessary for the clan, for the return of his lands, but she seemed so distraught, as if she truly believed they’d never be together again. It didn’t matter how much he tried to reassure her, she sank deeper into melancholy until her cries muted into deafening silence.

Hugh stood in the pass and watched her horse fall in behind Farley. She didn’t wave. She didn’t even turn around.

“Why the blazes are you sending her away this time?” asked Og—Lord, even his brother couldn’t see reason.

“Didn’t want to.” Hugh regarded Og as a pounding started in his head. “Her father is our only hope for restitution.”

“And you think sending her back after she used her dowry funds to purchase sheep is going to make everything all right? What do you think the governor will do when he discovers she’s defied him? Jump for joy? Och, if I were her da, I’d give the lass a good hiding and then send her to a convent for the rest of her miserable life.”

Hugh froze. Had he once thought about the repercussions for Charlotte? No. He’d only been concerned about the clan and his fight to get his lands back.

“Hugh!” Breathing heavily, Gavyn ran from the south pass, waving a letter. “A missive has arrived from the Baronet of Sleat.”

He snatched it. “Did the messenger have the brand on his forearm?” Christ, must everything happen at once?

Gavyn handed him the letter and shoved up his sleeve. “Aye, just like mine.”

“At least something is working as it should.” Bloody hell, Hugh hardly had time to read. “Og. Saddle my horse.”

“What the—?”

“Do it, I say!” Hugh ran his finger under the red wax seal.

My Dearest Cousin, Hugh MacIain MacDonald, Chieftain of Clan Iain Abrach of Glencoe,

It is with raised spirits that I take quill to parchment this day. I have solicited the good graces of his lordship, the Earl of Seaforth, imploring him to take up your cause with the Privy Council in Edinburgh. This day I received notice that the esteemed council has initiated an inquiry into the horrendous crime committed against you and your kin. We are forthwith pulling out every stop and using every influence to persuade decision makers to invoke justice.

This is a grand step in the achievement of our quest.

Long live the true king.

Your servant,

Lord Donald MacDonald, Baronet of Sleat, Chieftain of Clan Donald

Without another moment’s hesitation, Hugh ran into the shieling and snatched his quill. Hastily dipping it in ink, he scrawled a letter to Colonel Hill.

“What are you waiting for? Christmas?” Og’s voice bellowed from outside.

Blowing on the parchment, Hugh hastened outside and leaped onto the back of his garron. “My thanks, brother.”

He dug in his heels and galloped after Charlotte, praying he’d reach her before they moved into the valley of Glencoe.

***

A group of redcoats patrolled the glen ahead—so small in the distance, they looked like ants. But Charlotte and her party was nearer. Hugh took a chance and whistled.

Farley pulled up and pointed.

Hugh pushed his horse faster, wanting, needing to reach her now. She reined her horse and turned. As their gazes connected her face glowed bright as a ray of sunshine. “Hugh!” she dismounted and ran to him.

His horse skidded and before the garron stopped, Hugh leapt down and closed the distance. Enveloping the love of his life in his arms, he spun in a circle. “I am such a fool. I cannot bear to see you leave me again.”

“But what about your clan? What about your lands?”

“It will be all right. I know it. I will no longer play the role of victim. Aye, it may take longer than I’d like, but I will see justice.” Even if he hadn’t received word of the inquisition from Lord Donald, he wouldn’t have been able to let her go.

“I’m so happy.”

Hugh gently set Charlotte on her feet. Taking one hand, he dropped to his knee. Yes, he’d posed the question before, but it needed asking again. Before, he’d been a wealthy man. Before, he’d been heir to a vast estate. And now? He was a fugitive hiding in the hills. “I have absolutely nothing to give you but my heart. I promise on my life that I will work hard every day to provide you comfort—a home in which you will be proud, and to provide a fine upbringing for our children. I love you more than the air I breathe or life itself. Will you marry me, Miss Hill?”

Her hands trembled as a tear dribbled from her eye. But this time, she smiled so warmly, heaven had opened the gates and surrounded them with angels and sunshine. “I never thought you would ask again.”

His gut twisted—so precarious his situation, he had to ask, “Is that your answer?”

She rapidly tapped her lips with her fingers as she smiled and cried at the same time. “No—my answer is yes, yes, a hundred and fifty times, yes!”

Rising to his feet, Hugh pulled her into his arms and kissed her. God save him, he didn’t care who might be watching. He had his woman in his arms and would never again let her go. He savored her soft body against his hard, overjoyed that he would hold this woman in his arms for the rest of his life.

A throat cleared behind him. “I guess we’ll be off then?”

Hugh forced himself to step back and regard Farley. He drew the missive from inside his doublet. “Please deliver this to Colonel Hill.”

“What is it?” Charlotte asked.

“An invitation to our wedding one sennight hence. That should give me enough time to put a roof on the shieling I’ve been building for us.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “The ruin at the pool is nay a ruin—I’d hoped we could one day use it as a summer shieling.”

“Us?”

“Aye.” He cupped her cheek with his palm. “But I’ll build us a fine manse in the Coe as well.”

“A shieling of our own sounds marvelous—more than I’d hoped.”

“Och aye, lassie. In time you will have everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more.”