Cairnross’s bride.
At the entrance to the keep, Nairna saw a young maiden awaiting them. She was dressed like a queen, in embroidered blue silk and jewels, and Nairna guessed she was eighteen or nineteen years of age. Her hair was veiled, but golden strands escaped from beneath it, lifting with the wind. A silver band rested around the crown of her head.
‘Who is that?’ Vanora demanded.
‘Lady Marguerite de Montpierre,’ came Bram’s answer from behind them.
Nairna’s hopes plummeted when she mentally added up the cost of the girl’s wardrobe. If they had taken a woman like this from Lord Cairnross, there was no hope of peace. An army of English would pursue a woman of such wealth and status.
Vanora made the sign of the cross. ‘The Virgin Mary protect us. If you stole a princess from the English, we’re all going to die.’
‘Not a princess,’ Bram admitted, ‘but her father is a French duke.’
‘Oh, well, that’s all right, then.’ Vanora rolled her eyes in disgust. ‘Have you lost your wits? Don’t you think he’ll want her back?’
‘He might,’ a male voice answered. Ross MacKinloch stood before his wife, his hand resting upon the hilt of a sheathed claymore. ‘But we’re not going to let them take her. Alex has sent word to the Lady Marguerite’s father, and I don’t doubt he will arrive soon.’
‘Or murder us all for kidnapping her,’ Vanora shot back. The acidic words held a deep fear and Nairna took a step away from the married couple.
They began to argue with one another, their voices rising with anger.
‘Don’t let them bother you,’ Bram said, resting his hand upon one shoulder. ‘They’ve always been at each other’s throats, for as long as I can remember.’
‘Then why do they stay together?’ she whispered.
Bram shook his head and shrugged. ‘They’ve been married so long, perhaps they’re used to it.’
He took her hand in his, and lifted it to his cheek. She felt the soft bristles of his stubble and suddenly remembered the feeling of his warm mouth over her flesh, the prickles abrading her skin.
Her breath formed misted clouds in the afternoon air and Nairna raised her woollen hood to guard against the cold. ‘I’ll go and welcome Lady Marguerite,’ she managed, when he released her hand.
‘I’ll see you tonight,’ Bram told her, before he departed to speak with a group of men.
Nairna couldn’t answer, for the very thought of the intimacy made her skin rise up with shivers of longing. She needed a diversion to pull her mind away. As she walked towards the keep, she hoped to hide away with the household accounts, letting the numbers pull her restless mind back to something tangible.
But first, she had to keep her word to Bram and speak to Lady Marguerite. Like an ethereal maiden, the young woman was tall and slender, her walk graceful and elegant.
Seeing the woman’s beauty, even as young as she was, made Nairna feel like a clump of mud amidst spring flowers. Still, there was nothing to be done for it. Squaring her shoulders, Nairna greeted the lady and introduced herself.
‘Bram told me that they brought you back from Cairnross,’ she ventured, hoping that Marguerite would explain what had happened.
The young maiden nodded quietly. ‘I was thankful to leave.’ Although she had a deep French accent, the woman spoke the Gaelic tongue well enough to be understood. A shudder passed over her, and she gripped the edges of her silk gown. ‘And grateful to your husband for rescuing me.’
Nairna brought the woman food to break her fast. ‘When you were at Cairnross, did you happen to see any of the prisoners?’
Marguerite inclined her head, closing her eyes in memory. ‘I learned of them on the second day.’ Her eyes opened and her fingers stilled together for a moment. ‘I could hear them screaming.’
She closed her eyes again for a moment, her lips pressed together. ‘I know what you wish to ask me. Your husband asked about his brother Callum when he agreed to take me back.’
Nairna nodded, waiting for the woman to continue. ‘Go on.’
‘They chained Callum in the centre of the fortress, for all to see. Lord Cairnross planned to make an example of him.’ Marguerite shuddered at the memory. ‘They whipped him until his blood ran into the stones. Then they left him there, as night was falling.
‘I waited until nearly everyone was gone, and I tried to help stop the bleeding. I gave him water and stayed with him for a while.
‘I suppose Lord Cairnross learned of it, for the next morn, Callum was gone. He was sent to another fortress, to the south.’
Marguerite raised her eyes to Nairna’s. ‘It was probably my fault that they moved him. I shouldn’t have interfered, I suppose. But I couldn’t stand back and watch him suffer.’
Nairna took a breath, sickened by the thought of Bram’s younger brother tormented in that way. ‘I would have done the same,’ she admitted.
‘I pray that they didn’t kill him.’ Marguerite finished her meal and looked around. ‘Thank heaven, your husband and the chief freed the other prisoners. And me.’
‘Will your betrothed husband come after you?’ Nairna asked. She was certain Lord Cairnross wouldn’t allow his bride to be abducted without seeking retribution.
Marguerite shrugged. ‘Even if he does, I won’t wed him.’ A ruthless expression swept over her face, transforming her regal demeanour into that of a warrior. ‘I wish he’d been killed in the fight. He deserved it, for what he did to those men.’
Changing the subject, Marguerite continued, ‘The chief has sent word to my father, to bring me home again.’
‘Where is your father now?’
‘In Edinburgh.’ Marguerite’s expression dimmed. ‘I fear it will take some time before he can be here. But I know he’ll come for me.’
In the meantime, Nairna fully expected Lord Cairnross to attack Glen Arrin. By freeing the prisoners and seizing his bride, Bram and Alex had struck a blow against the man’s pride. Nerves twisted within her stomach, and she wondered whether Bram and the others would be ready for the fight.
Marguerite rose and offered, ‘I fear I’m not good with household matters, but I will do what I can to help you until my father arrives.’ The woman’s furtive glance around showed her dismay at the broken-down keep.
Nairna no longer worried about all the work to be done. With the women returning from Locharr, they could accomplish a great deal. She looked around for Alex’s wife Laren, but saw no sign of her.
Before she could ask Marguerite anything, her attention was drawn to three riders approaching on horseback. Nairna shielded her eyes against the sun, and a fierce joy broke over her when she saw her maid Jenny arriving with two of her father’s men.
She ran to the older woman, embracing her after one of the escorts
