Highlander's Hidden Destiny: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 20

  But if the kidnapper was prepared to testify against his master, then Feargan would be vindicated and there was nothing he desired more than for Lord Torbay to leave them in peace. Alexander poured out two drams of whisky and the ladies retired to bed, Amelia suggesting that Catherine sleep with her that night, as Feargan reminded them to bolt the door from the inside, lest any unwelcome visitors find their way into the castle.

  “Dae ye think this man will testify, as he claims he will?” Alexander said, handing his godson the whisky and settling himself down opposite.

  “I think he will dae anythin’ to save his own skin. That’s the problem with mercenaries and hired men, they have nay loyalty, nay honor, nay cause they truly believe in. Only money, and when the game is up and the money is gone, they soon turn against the hand that has fed them,” Feargan replied.

  “We are playin’ a dangerous game, Feargan. I had thought such days were over. Give me peace and a dram when all this is over,” Alexander said, taking a long drink of his whisky and sighing.

  “It will come soon enough, though if all of Scotland is up in arms we may be in for a bloody ride beforehand,” Feargan said, shaking his head.

  “Ye think the Bonnie Prince can really overthrow the Hanoverians? He may have the support of the Scottish clans, but marchin’ south he will encounter the English nobles. They are Protestants, and they have nay wish to see a Catholic on the English throne,” Alexander replied.

  “Then perhaps it is time for the Act of Union to be abolished, let the English get on with their Protestant reformation and we shall have a King of Scotland again,” Feargan replied. “I should rather see a King in Edinburgh, than a far off monarch in London, dae ye nae think, Uncle?” Feargan said.

  “And nae so long ago ye were trying to persuade Charles Edward Stuart from landing. Now ye are wanting to proclaim him King,” Alexander said, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “Aye, well, let’s just say I have had quite enough of the English now,” Feargan replied, draining the last dregs of his whisky.

  Feargan had always supported the Jacobite cause, but he had long thought the dream of a restored monarchy to be a fanciful one. The fact that Charles Edward Stuart had landed his army and was, apparently, now camped close to the castle at Loch Beira, had restored some of his faith in that dream. Was it too much to hope that the Bonnie Prince might well become King? If he did so, then Feargan was determined not to be branded a Hanoverian spy and endure the consequences of such a reputation.

  Tomorrow morning, he would expose Lord Torbay for his crimes and settle the matter of Amelia once and for all. The testimony of the scar-faced kidnapper would see to that, and if it did not, then Feargan was more than prepared to fight for what was right.

  24

  Feargan awoke early the next morning, just as the cockerel in the castle courtyard began to crow. The sun was streaming through the window, casting its rays across his bed and he blinked in those first blissful moments before the realization of reality struck. Today was to be a momentous day and he climbed out of bed, stretching and yawning as he dressed and made himself ready.

  Alexander Galbreth was already up and about when Feargan came down to the hall. He had made a circuit of the castle battlements and assured the Laird that there was no sign of any trouble.

  “Nay Jacobite army encamped before our gates?” Feargan asked, as he ladled a bowl of porridge from a steaming pan above the fire.

  “Only a few peasants about their business, and a man selling fish whining to the guards,” Alexander replied.

  “He’ll come, but it’ll be on his terms, just like everythin’ else has been,” Feargan replied.

  “Then ye must make it yer terms instead, lad. Stand up to him, like ye have already done so well.”

  Feargan nodded, but his heart was still fearful. Would Amelia still be at his side by the end of the day? Or would she and her sister have been spirited away south, never to be seen again? It was with a heavy heart that he waited and as Amelia and Catherine entered the room, it was clear that they too had had little sleep.

  “I had such terrible dreams,” Amelia said, seating herself next to Feargan. “All manner of wicked things occurred, and I was back in that horrible house with those men.”

  “‘Tis only because ye saw him yesterday, lass. Daenae worry, it’ll be over soon,” Feargan replied, trying his best to reassure her.

  “Do you think Philip will agree so easily to relinquish his claims?” Catherine said.

  “It is in his best interests to, lass. If he daenae then he will find himself exposed, and he wouldnae want the reputation of a man who has stooped to such lows as kidnap and extortion to hang over him,” Feargan replied.

  They continued their breakfast in silence, a heavy atmosphere hanging over them all. Afterwards Feargan stepped out into the courtyard to take a breath of air. The guards on the gate saluted him and he made his way up onto the battlements, looking out across the loch towards the mountains beyond.

  The scene was as peaceful as it ever was. The tall peaks beyond were capped by wisps of mist which trailed down to the loch below, covering the forests on the far shore in azure white, the tops just poking through like the first flowers of spring. Feargan knew that the peace would soon be shattered, and he breathed in the cool air of the morning, a grim expression on his face.

  He was about to descend to the courtyard, instructing the guards to keep watch, when from the track by the loch side a figure emerged, flanked by a band of Jacobite soldiers. They were marching in formation and above them fluttered the banners of the Bonnie Prince. Feargan watched as they took up position some two hundred yards from the castle walls.

  “Hail Feargan, so-called Laird of Loch Beira,” came the voice of Lord Torbay, who now stepped forward from the ranks of men and stood before the castle gates.

  “A show of force will dae nothin’ to prevent the truth from emergin’ ye ken. I have here a witness who will testify against ye, a man who kens that it is ye who are responsible for the orders to kidnap Amelia and hold her hostage,” Feargan said, as Philip laughed.

  “The castle is surrounded, Feargan, you have lost this fight. Give Amelia up to me and we shall say no more,” Philip said.

  “And if I daenae, what shall ye dae?” Feargan called back.

  “I shall see to it that this castle and your lands are seized in the name of Charles Edward Stuart. Now hand Amelia over to me and be left in peace,” Philip said, striding forward.

  “Ye may come and speak with Amelia once more, only ye,” Feargan said, signaling to the men to open the gates. “And then, if ye are still so adamant in yer claim to be the innocent party, it is she who will choose who she chooses as her own.”

  Philip nodded, looking back to his men with an air of confidence, the Jacobite banner fluttering up above them. A solitary piper began to play, and Philip strode through the gates to where Feargan was waiting for him.

  “Leave the gates open. At the first sign of trouble my men shall be upon you like as though the King himself were in this castle,” Philip said, sneering at Feargan who merely nodded and led the way to the hall where Amelia and Catherine were waiting.

  As they entered, Philip went at once to Amelia’s side and took hold of her arm, but she shook him off and turned in anger to him, flinching as she did so.

  “Do not treat me as your property, Philip. I have no intention of coming with you, either by force or by choice,” she said, stepping back towards the fire.

  “Ye will show some respect in my hall,” Feargan said, as Alexander Galbreth entered, followed by the jailer and the scar-faced kidnapper.

  “Let us get this over with, what is it, this… this man has to say? Do you really think his word will be believed over mine?” Philip said.

  There was silence for a moment and Philip strode towards the kidnapper, looking him up and down as though taunting him to speak. The man was shaking with fear, but he swallowed hard and shaking off the jailer’s hand he stepped
forward.

  “You owe me money, Lord Torbay, a pretty penny for the work I did for you, and my two companions as well. You promised us twenty pounds each, enough to have secured my wife’s good health and seen my children looked after these many a year. Where is the money?” the kidnapper said, as Philip dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

  “Extortion, that is your game. You come here demanding money simply because of hardships on the road, or the fact you no longer desire to be associated with our cause. Run along, you pathetic dog. Is this the best you can come up with, Feargan?” Philip said, “You have no proof that I had Amelia kidnapped, why ever would I do such a thing?”

  “To make it look like this gentleman here was responsible, that’s what you told me,” the kidnapper replied. “You wanted to frame him and get him out of the way, ‘Lie in wait for her along the road and when she returns take her by force,’ that’s what you told us to do and we did it. Now where is our money?”

  “Dae ye deny what this man is sayin’ Lord Torbay? For if ye dae then…” Feargan began.

  “I deny it all, this man was just as pathetic on our match north as he appears now, all this sniveling over his wife and children. He is interested only in himself and no court in this land will believe his testimony over that of mine. Now, hand Amelia over or be taken by force. I have no more time for your nonsense,” Philip cried, and his hand went to the hilt of his sword.

  “Then there is nay other choice. I shall nae see this lass taken by ye, even if it is the last thing I dae,” Feargan said, his hand going to his own sword.

  The two men circled one another and Amelia cried out, clutching Catherine. The two ladies watched as Feargan and Philip threatened one another, their swords now drawn.

  “Stop this,” Amelia cried, but the time for words was passed and now the tips of their swords were glancing off each other’s, the metal glinting in the sun streaming through the window.

  “En garde,” Philip cried, lunging forward, as Feargan stepped aside, sending a table clattering over as he dodged Philip’s sword again.

  “Do something,” Amelia said, turning to Alexander who shook his head.

  “There is nay more time for words, lass. Let them fight if it be the end of this sorry saga,” he replied, as Feargan lunged towards Philip, his sword clashing from the other’s as both men let out a cry.

  Now they fought, back and forth across the hall, the clash of sword against sword, the anger and frustration of these past weeks and months now pouring forth.

  “I shall have you, Feargan Galbreth, too long you have taunted me,” Philip cried.

  “And too long have I endured yer insults and yer treacheries,” Feargan said, lunging again at Philip, who narrowly missed his sword, as he stepped to one side.

  Feargan almost fell, knocking into the scar-faced kidnapper who let out a cry and fell back. The jailer grabbed his tunic, dragging him to the side of the room as Philip sent a bust of Feargan’s father crashing to the ground.

  “You are nothing but a fool, a child playing at the politics of the day. Leave such things to real men,” Philip said, his brow sweaty and tunic ripped open, as he brought his sword down on Feargan’s with a clatter.

  “Only a fool for love, the love I feel for Amelia and which I ken ye have never felt for her, not ever,” Feargan said, pushing Philip back and aiming the flat of sword at Philip’s legs.

  As he did so, Lord Torbay let out a cry and fell to the floor, sending chairs and tables flying as Amelia cried out again. Feargan was on him, catching his hand and throwing his sword to one side.

  “Get off me,” Philip cried, but Feargan had him in his grip and the two now wrestled together on the floor, Feargan’s sword flying from his hand as Philip aimed a blow at his cheek.

  “I am master of my hall and ye will submit to me,” Feargan cried and with a final effort he pushed Philip back, knocking him into the bookcases which lined the wall, causing a great shower of books to cascade upon them.

  The two staggered up, panting for breath, Philip clutching at his side as though in pain, as Feargan retrieved his sword and pointed it at him.

  “Enough, that is enough, do you hear me,” Amelia cried, rushing over to Feargan who had raised his sword at Philip, as though he would have run him through had he still been armed. “I will not watch this terrible display any further, fighting over me like I am some kind of prize to be won. Philip, I am not yours and I have no desire to be. Now renounce your claim and break off this engagement for I assure you that had I any desire ever to marry you that is now gone.”

  “This man,” she pointed to the kidnapper, “this man speaks the truth, it is just as he told it, and I have seen his face in my nightmares ever since that dreadful day. If you thought that having me kidnapped would somehow cause me to love you, or that it would make me hate Feargan for the lie that it was he who orchestrated it, then you have failed. Quite the opposite in fact, it is you I hate and Feargan I love.”

  25

  Lord Torbay was at a loss for words and he stood, breathless and red faced, his sword at his side, shaking his head. Amelia’s words hung in the air, a defiant outburst from one who was usually so meek and mild. Finally, she had found her voice and she was in no doubt as to the truth of what had just passed her lips.

  “I… Amelia, you will come with me,” he said, his words sounding empty and hollow, those of a man who knows he is defeated.

  “No, I will not,” she replied, and she crossed over to Feargan, who placed a protective arm around her.

  “I think ‘tis time ye left, dae ye nae think, Philip?” Feargan said, placing his own sword back in its sheath and pointing towards the door.

  “Aye, lad, save what little honor ye still might have,” Alexander Galbreth said, shaking his head, as a little smile played across his face. “Ye are defeated on two counts, firstly by sword and secondly by word. Daenae make a fool of yerself by remainin’ longer.”

  “I… I have an army of men, I could…” Philip began, but Catherine stepped forward, much to the surprise of the others and placed her hand upon Philip’s arm.

  “An army which has a true cause to fight. You are a better man than this, Philip. Please, just let Amelia be happy, does she not deserve as much?” Catherine said.

  Philip swallowed hard, as though finally emerging from the madness which had so caught him up and made his heart so bitter. He looked around him and shook his head, his eyes meeting Catherine’s, as she smiled at him.

  Clearly realizing that there was no point in further argument or discussion, he sheathed his sword. His uniform was disheveled and a button missing from his coat. He made a pretense of buttoning up his jacket, neatening himself, as though wishing still to appear as a commanding presence, despite his defeat.

  “I shall go, and Amelia, I hope you have made the right decision. There can be no second chances after such a scandal. Your father will be informed, of course, and I doubt he will look favorably upon your union with this man,” he said, and turning on his heel he made for the door.

  As he did so, a pocket on his jacket, which had come into contact with Feargan’s sword, burst open. The contents spilled out onto the floor as Philip pulled open the door. He turned and threw up his hands in exasperation, scrabbling on the floor like a child as he collected his possessions, and then, without a second glance, he strode from the room, his face set in a grimace of anger and disgust.

  As he left, the gathered party let out a sigh of relief, knowing that for now their ordeal was over. Amelia turned to Feargan, her eyes filled with tears and he embraced her, as Alexander went to the door, ensuring that Lord Torbay was indeed departed from the castle.

  “A sorry business, but he must accept that ye have made yer decision, lass, and ye have decided to wed Feargan and not him,” Alexander said.

  “He will never truly accept it,” Amelia replied wearily, as Feargan led her to a chair by the fire.

  “He kens he cannae dae nothin’ to ye now, lass. The man is
pathetic, he daenae have the respect of even his henchmen,” Alexander said, glancing over at the jailer, who still held the kidnapper by the scruff of the neck.

  “Ye can let him go,” Feargan said. “Our quarrel is not with him, he was only tryin’ to put food on the table for his family.”

  “Oh, thank you sire, thank you,” the kidnapper said, clasping his hands together in a mock gesture of prayer, as though Feargan has just released him from some terrible bondage.

  “Be gone, and daenae darken my hall again, ye nor any of yer associates,” Feargan said, as the man scampered from the hall, followed by the jailer, who still breathed murderous threats against him.

  Feargan slumped in a chair by the fire, sighing heavily and closing his eyes.

  “And now we wait for news of the Bonnie Prince. I cannae see him takin’ on the Hanoverians and winnin’ victory,” Feargan said, shaking his head.