Capturing The Reluctant Highlander (Lasses 0f The Kinnaird Castle Book 3) Read online

  “Aye, I shall practice well enough,” he said quietly, and turned to leave.

  Dougal jumped up and said,” Och, minister, what a perfect time tae make my confessions tae ye. I shall walk ye to yer door at the church.”

  Troy turned back to see a grinning Dougal. He felt a fear and rage mixing within him. This was not how his life was supposed to go at all. He had worked so hard to escape.

  Ruth cried out, “Why, that’s an excellent idea! And you two can get acquainted further before the festival in a few days!”

  Troy saw her face and knew she was all too happy for the two of them to leave together and perhaps discuss her on their way. Yes, the woman had rightly gotten her revenge. She certainly had been embarrassed by his rejection of her embrace, and now she wanted him to feel embarrassed as well.

  He nodded. “Aye. Ye may come.”

  Dougal made his goodbyes and thank you to the Frasers, before following Troy out the door. Both of them stepped into the dark spring evening, with the stars shining brightly overhead. Troy began to walk, his boots crunching on the ground, silently brooding over what Dougal was about to say.

  Dougal was adjusting his woolen coat and hat before he began. “So, lad, ye didnae think we would find ye after all this time. A captain who abandons his ship? ‘Tis not known. In the pirate’s world, ye should have been hanged by yer toes for such an act.”

  Troy nodded. “Aye. Was not the act of a captain, but my heart no longer desired bloodshed, like the rest of ye. I had tae leave tae cleanse my soul.”

  Dougal smiled. “Cleanse it from all the past wrongs ye committed against yer fellow man and woman? The stealing, the violence? The fornication? These are not the acts of a minister. I’m willing tae bet ye that yer congregation does not know about any of it, and, “he gestured with his thumb back to the Fraser home, “that lass ye fancy does not know anything about it either.”

  Troy didn’t say anything at first, so Dougal continued. “She’s a fine piece, that. She seems tae like me well enough. What do ye say tae me taking her with me on me next journey?”

  Troy turned and grabbed the lapels of Dougal’s coat, nearly picking him up in the air with anger. “I know what ‘take with ye’ means in yer vocabulary, Menzies. Whatever ye do, ye will not take the lass nor hurt her in any way. Yer business is with me.”

  Dougal lifted up his hands with a chuckle, and Troy let him go with a huff. “Och, so I see I’m right. I wasnae sure about yer feelings at first, but now I know. Yer a man in love. Too bad we cannae always get what we want in this life. I dinnae think I’ll be needin’ tae kidnap her. She’ll come of her own accord. Ye can see she’s desperate tae escape, thirsty for a spicier life.”

  As Dougal said the last words, he dropped his voice seductively, and Troy knew what was in Dougal’s mind. “That lass is worth more than ye a thousand times over.”

  “Och, so ye’d be willing tae give me that cross in exchange for me not stealing her from ye?”

  Troy stewed in silence and Dougal laughed. “I’m a reasonable man, Ferguson, so I will give ye time tae think about it. Besides, I’ve got a sword fight tae win in a few days. Ye will give me yer answer after that. I want the cross back, or else Miss Luscious Lips will be coming with me, whether she wants tae or not.”

  Troy clenched his fists again ready to pummel them into Dougal’s face, but Dougal leaped out of Troy’s sphere, and with a laugh, ran off into the night. Troy sighed, pushing his hands through his hair in irritation. Good Lord, what was he going to do? It had been his calling, his penance to return that cross to the holy man to whom it belonged on the isle of Skye. It was his way of asking for forgiveness for his life of crime. And now, Dougal wanted it? The pirate’s code was that they shared all of their wealth together, and the captain had stolen a portion and hidden it away. He could not blame his crew their revenge.

  But, Ruth, innocent, pure Ruth would be taken away in the arms of that devil, who had no qualms about doing whatever he liked with women. It had been one of the things they’d argued about as they worked together. Dougal wanted to rape the women of the coastal towns they’d plundered, but Troy had never allowed his men to do so. He shuddered to think what chaos ensued after he’d plunged himself into the sea.

  He walked back to the church and sat in the empty sanctuary and lit a candle. He would pray. Pray for guidance and strength. Although, he still didn’t quite feel the religious equal of his position, it was the only thing he could do now. He wished he could have torn Dougal to pieces, but life as a minister had changed him. He wanted to do what was right. Ruth or the cross?

  Chapter Twelve

  The next morning, Marianne and Ruth were sitting in the hall, drinking tea and reading. They had already breakfasted, and now was the time in which they would sit and read or discuss their plans for the day. Ruth had arisen with a satisfied grin, knowing that her goal was achieved, but along with that came a little twinge of concern. Had she spoken too harshly?

  She believed women should be allowed to speak their minds, but she did not wish to be cruel. That was not in her. Her mother, Katherine, had helped to soothe that side of wildness from Ruth’s character, and for that, Ruth was thankful. At least she was not like her father.

  Marianne spoke first, “Did you enjoy last evening? Mr. Menzies seems quite an interesting character.”

  Ruth took a sip of tea. “Yes. It was lovely. I enjoyed hearing all of his tales. They excited me very much.”

  Marianne smiled but felt sad for her sister. How could Ruth have her own adventures without Marianne having to worry about her safety, or her heart?

  Soon a maid entered with an envelope. “The post has come, me Lady.” Marianne thanked the maid, and with a slight curtsy, the maid was gone, Marianne looking curiously at the envelope.

  “Oh, it’s from London.” She glanced over at Ruth. “I wonder who could have written to us from there?”

  Ruth shrugged, and Marianne tore open the letter, her eyes quickly moving across the page. A tiny gasp escaped her lips, and she placed a hand on her mouth. Ruth cried out, “What is it?”

  “‘Tis...Father.” And Ruth’s heart felt like it stopped. She couldn’t breathe for a moment as she reached over and grabbed the letter from Marianne.

  My dearest Marianne,

  I know you may perhaps not want to hear from your father after all that has happened between us, but you must know what you have wrought upon me. Since your nightly departure from my home, Lord Hampshire has asked for me to repay the money for my debts that he gave to me in preparation for your nuptials.

  I now live in penury and can only rely upon the goodness of my daughters, that they find it in their hearts to save me from misery. I have been ostracized from those around me, treated with disdain for the fact that my own daughters have left a loving father behind them to suffer alone.

  Marianne, I have heard through my sources that you are now married and living with the Scottish Wildman. I wish to congratulate you and see you and your sister once more. Ruth, my daughter, I want to see how you fare and be assured that you are not doing anything too wild. I may still find you a suitable match.

  I have left London already and have spent everything in order to come and see you, my daughters. Once this letter arrives, I shall be coming in a few days.

  Lord Browne

  For a few moments, neither Ruth nor Marianne could speak. They simply stared at each other in shock. Soon, Ruth spoke.

  “I cannot be under the same roof as that man again. He will try to chain me down once more, just when I am about to free myself!”

  Marianne nodded. “But he is coming. There is naught we can do. Perhaps he has good intentions and wants to see how we fare?”

  “Marianne, do not be foolish! His letter is dripping with anger and attempting to place the full guilt upon us for his current status. No, he has a plan in mind. I do not know what it is, but I am sure it involves me.”

  In Marianne’s pregnancy, her heart had softened t
owards her father, and she wished that he would someday ask for forgiveness. She wanted to give him that chance. She hoped he would want to see his grandchild, and so she hoped for the best. “We will have to welcome him, Ruth. He has no claim over us now. He will come and be gone, and we can give him money to keep him away, safely ensconced in his London home.”

  Ruth reddened, the rage filling her quickly. “Marianne, I will need to make those plans to leave sooner than I expected.” Tears were nearly filling her eyes. “He wants to enslave me, my own father, and surely make me marry someone I do not want to.”

  “Has he not learned his lesson?” Marianne begged, tears beginning to brim at her eyes, as well, at the thought of Ruth’s departure. “Does he believe so little in the strength of his daughters to take their lives into their own hands?”

  “Yes, he does. All he thinks about regaining his wealth and status. He is angry because he was embarrassed by us. He could not control everything, and he has been shamed in front of his peers. That is all he wants.”

  Marianne reached across for Ruth’s hands. “Ruth, I don’t know if I could bear you leaving. Do you not want to see your niece or nephew? Is your life so terrible here?” Marianne finally spoke the truth of what had laid on her heart these many months.

  Ruth moved to Marianne and kissed her on the cheek. “Marianne, ‘tis not you or William or your babe that makes me itch to leave. ‘Tis what father wrought upon me in your departure. I was not let out of his sight. I was berated at every turn for every word spoken or move I made. I felt no love or affection or support. He believes me to be chattel to be used for his gain. What woman could bear to live with a man like that?”

  Marianne nodded. “But, you cannot leave me to deal with him on my own. Please. I had to deal with his abuses as well, do not forget. You were not alone.”

  Ruth agreed. She hated to see her sister in such a state, especially when she was pregnant. “Perhaps we may speak to William and Jamie about what we should do. Certainly, the laird can protect us from his plans, whatever they may be. I, I could stay for a little while, but if he begins to try to plan my every move, then you know I must go.”

  Marianne nodded and hugged her sister. She was relieved that Ruth had come around at least for a little while. When she pulled back she said, “At least we have the May Day festival to look forward to.”

  Ruth nodded and smiled weakly, knowing in her heart that even if her father came to make peace, she would need to leave soon enough. But how and where to go? Perhaps Dougal Menzies held the answer.

  * * *

  Troy sat in his sanctuary once again, the night after his conversation with Dougal. He wasn’t sure where the bastard was staying while he was in Brechin, but he was sure the others of his crew were not far away. And they would follow through on Dougal’s promise sure enough. There may be other women who would also be hurt by this promise.

  Troy lay on the bench, his arms behind his head, as he stared up at the stained-glass windows. The morning sun was streaming through and highlighting the scene of Jesus appearing to Mary Magdalene.

  He smiled, thinking about Ruth. She was like Mary, in the sense that she was a wild woman who fought against convention and society and chose to make herself happy. He was certain Ruth would not fight going with Dougal. She would be happy for the adventure. Besides, how could he give up his life’s goal of returning the cross for a woman who...? He wasn’t quite sure how to finish that sentence. Perhaps he could give Dougal a false location, in order to stall him for a time while he thought of a solution.

  Certainly Dougal finding him was hard to swallow, and the problem about Dougal finding the cross and stealing it back preyed on Troy’s mind. But the thing that had kept him awake all night, twinging at his breast, was Dougal’s words: Ye are a man in love.

  William and Jamie had said it to him, to his feverish denial. But they were only new friends, and he couldn’t trust their understanding of himself. But Dougal was a man who had fought and worked side by side with him through the darkest of times and knew him well. To hear him speak those words meant that there must be some truth to them.

  But Troy couldn’t believe it. If he was so in love with Ruth, then why had he avoided her? Was he only fighting his passion for her? Why had he rejected her kiss? Certainly, a man in love would not have been able to do so and would have fallen weakly into her arms.

  Could he really see a woman like Ruth married, and to him? She could definitely be a lover, that kiss had told him that, and so had her wild spirit, but he couldn’t imagine her ever doing something so conventional as getting married. Would he even want her to?

  His mind told him one thing, and his heart whispered of another, but he would not listen. He could not. He had only to think of this decision about the cross and Dougal’s threat. Love could not get in the way of everything he’d worked for.

  * * *

  Later that day, Ruth was surrounded by decorations to put on the May Pole in the forest near the castle. She had ribbons and flowers, and the footmen from the castle had brought out a ladder. She was waiting for Troy. She had sent him a message to meet her at the tree in order to finish the final decorations for the festival. It was tomorrow, and today was Beltane Eve. Perhaps a bit of magic would happen over the traditional fire this evening. Despite her strict Christian background, Ruth loved to learn about the pagan festivals of the wild Highlanders, and she felt so deliciously wicked as she helped prepare for one.

  While she waited nervously, afraid of what he might be feeling from when last they met, Ruth busied herself with making the flower head wreaths. Each dancing woman was to wear one to celebrate the onset of the springtime, and she loved making them. They made her feel young and imaginative, almost like an elf, as she twisted the flower stems of primrose and hazel around to fit snugly over each young woman’s head. It distracted her from the nerves roiling around inside her, not just about apologizing to Troy, but also about her father coming and what he planned to do once he arrived. Marianne was trying to think positively about it, but she knew the man. He would not come earnestly asking for forgiveness, arms open.

  She was using her own head as a measurement, and she would place a wreath in progress on her head to see if she was making them the proper size. As she did so, a whistling Troy Ferguson approached.

  “Hello Ruth, or shall I say elfin maid, at one with the forest, ready to bewitch any man?” He had a smile on his face and was trying to make a joke, but there was something missing. He no longer had that devilish twinkle in his eye, and Ruth wondered if it was her fault for being so cruel.

  She smiled in return, wishing she could send remorse through her eyes to him without actually having to apologize. She still felt ruffled by his rejection. “Yes, I feel quite elfin here with my wreath. I was just thinking that myself. Perhaps I will have, for just the one night, the power to hex and bewitch.”

  Troy thought, ‘Tis not just for one night, lass. Ye have constantly bewitched me from the moment we met. He saw how naturally beautiful Ruth Browne really was beneath the morning light, sitting amongst the grass and heather, looking quite at home.

  He chuckled softly and looked at the decor strewn about her legs. “How can I assist ye, maiden?”

  He bowed deeply, and Ruth laughed. “I need you to climb the ladder with some of the ribbons and flowers to place them around the tree.” The tree was not very tall, but it would require a bit of precarious climbing, and Ruth liked the idea of putting Troy to work. He was meant to help her after all, and she was meant to still be recuperating from her broken arm.

  He nodded. “I see. Then ye must direct me. How is yer arm faring?”

  Ruth touched it and was warmed by Troy’s concern. “‘Tis faring well. I’m afraid I most likely removed the sling too early, but I couldn’t bear the thought of being trapped.”

  She was continuing to weave the wreaths as she spoke, her eyes down, and Troy smiled at her head. He knelt down close to her, so that she looked up at him, an
d he said softly. “Nae, I fear for anyone who tries tae tie ye down, lass.”

  Ruth stared back for a moment, her lips slightly parted in surprise. His eyes were different now, their green depths full of something new. Desire remained, but what else? Compassion, perhaps?

  She cleared her throat. “Well, yes, but perhaps I could use a bit of that from time to time to keep me from hurting others. I know my father would agree.” She shook her head and sighed. She couldn’t bring her gaze back to Troy. She didn’t want him to know about her father’s impending arrival. “Mr. Ferguson, Troy, I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I did not mean to be so hurtful and embarrass you so cruelly and so publicly last night, when I said that about you losing the sword fight.”