The Highlander’s prisoner

There’s more to hardened outlaw Niall Corbett than meets the eye. Despite his merciless reputation, he’s on a mission he must defend with his life. One that means taking beautiful Fia Mackintosh prisoner for her own protection!

Fia may have dreamed of being swept away by a gorgeous Highlander, but never of being held hostage by a gang of outlaws! While her head screams for her to run, her heart beats a little too fast for her captor, a man she shouldn’t, yet can’t help but trust...

“A gentleman would never...”

“I would never count myself one of those, lass.” He leaned in closer. “So do not harbour hopes that I am anything but what you see before you.” He held out his hands and motioned around them.

“A thieving ruffian who would take a woman’s virtue without thought or concern!”

Even she looked surprised by the words she’d spoken.

“I would not say there would not be thought or concern if I took yours, Fia,” he said, moving forward until their faces were a scant few inches apart. “I would be very thoughtful.”

A becoming blush spread up her cheeks and she stammered something before speaking it clearly. “Is that the boon you claim?” she asked.

A shudder trembled through her, making him realise that fear was taking hold. He lifted his hand and cupped her chin. Sliding his thumb across those tempting lips, he shook his head.

“Nay. Not that,” he whispered. “Only a kiss.”

Author Note

I am so thrilled to bring you the third book in my A Highland Feuding miniseries—Kidnapped by the Highland Rogue! I confess I am finding such inspiration from the true history of these two Scottish families and their centuries-long feud.

If you’ve read the first two books you’ve met my heroine, Fia Mackintosh. She was a young girl caught up in the dangerous feud in Stolen by the Highlander, and then we saw her as an insightful girl in The Highlander’s Runaway Bride. Now Fia is a young woman, who thinks that the stories and experiences of Lady Arabella and Lady Eva are soooo romantic. And she’s dreamt of a handsome Highlander kidnapping her and sweeping her into a torrid love affair that would lead to a happily-ever-after of her own. But when it happens, it’s not at all how she thought it would be—and yet it’s so much more at the same time.

Using the disguise of Iain Dubh, Niall Corbett cannot help himself when he meets Fia in a dangerous situation—he kidnaps her, believing it’s the only way to protect her. As we romance readers know already, nothing is ever that simple or clear, and this situation goes from bad to worse quickly. This hero is much, much more than he appears, and there is simply no way that Fia Mackintosh can ever be his. Or is there a way for Fia to find her coveted happy ending with this enigmatic rogue?

A hint before you read this—my next hero appears in this book. If you’ve read the first book, you’ve met him, too, but now he’s grown up and in need of a heroine. When he entered this book he acted quite heroically, so I just know he’s ready for his own story.

Kidnapped by the

Highland Rogue

Terri Brisbin

www.millsandboon.co.uk

TERRI BRISBIN is wife to one, mother of three, and dental hygienist to hundreds when not living the life of a glamorous romance author. She was born, raised, and is still living in the southern New Jersey suburbs. Terri’s love of history led her to write time-travel romances and historical romances set in Scotland and England.

Books by Terri Brisbin

Mills & Boon Historical Romance

and Mills & Boon Historical Undone! ebooks

A Highland Feuding

Stolen by the Highlander

The Highlander’s Runaway Bride

Kidnapped by the Highland Rogue

The MacLerie Clan

Taming the Highlander

Surrender to the Highlander

Possessed by the Highlander

The Highlander’s Stolen Touch

At the Highlander’s Mercy

The Highlander’s Dangerous Temptation

Yield to the Highlander

Taming the Highland Rogue (Undone!)

Linked to The MacLerie Clan

The Earls Secret

Regency Candlelit Christmas

‘Blame it on the Mistletoe

Highlanders

‘The Forbidden Highlander

Visit the Author Profile page at millsandboon.co.uk for more titles.

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I’ve had the honour and pleasure of working with many editors while writing my thirty-nine novels, novellas and short stories over almost the last twenty years. Each one has taught me something about writing or my abilities. Each one has advised and suggested changes to strengthen my work. I’d like to dedicate this book to my first historical editor, Melissa Endlich, and to my current editor, Megan Haslam.

Melissa, your humour and gentle approach helped me through good and bad times of writing and life. Megan, your insightful comments helped me stay true to my stories and I’m glad we got the chance to work together (and again). I am so glad I’ve had the chance to work with each of you and thank you for your efforts in making my stories work!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Author Note

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

Brodie Mackintosh, chief of the mighty Chattan Confederation, smiled grimly at his cousin. The acrid smell of burning crops and dead animals made his eyes burn as he surveyed the damage.

‘When?’

‘Last night,’ replied Rob, his cousin and the commander of all Mackintosh warriors.

‘Any injuries?’ Brodie waited for the worst. These incidents had escalated in recent days from simple mischief into unmistakable attacks. He waited for the inevitable.

‘They chased most of the crofters out and away, but Old Angus would not leave.’ Brodie cursed under his breath and Rob nodded in agreement. The old man was stubborn, so he’d stayed behind on purpose and not because of age or infirmity.

Brodie walked away then, examining some of the footprints on the soft ground. Crouching down, he stared off into the trees, thinking about the progression of the attacks.

This was the fourth incident in the last fortnight. Each one in a different place across their lands. Each one destroying crops and livestock but very few of the crofts and never harming any of the villagers.

Until now.

Until Old Angus.

‘What are you thinking, Rob?’ he asked as he walked back to where his cousin waited. ‘What or who is behind these?’ When Rob didn’t reply, Brodie met his gaze and saw the answer that neither of them wished to think let alone speak aloud.

Years, nay decades, of clan hostilities had ceased on his marriage to Arabella Cameron. Well, if truth be told, they had eased with that strategic marriage and ceased in the six years since. Part of their success had been due to skilful negotiation and monetary reward, but for many of the elders, weariness and loss had been the biggest and best motivation.

‘Could it be, Brodie?’ Rob asked. ‘Would they be violating the peace?’ Rob used his favourite words at the very thought of it and Brodie winced at his vehement choice. ‘But, who among them would lead such an effort?’

‘I know not, but I will seek out more information before making such an accusation to The Cameron.’

Brodie hated even the possibility that The Camerons were rising once more against them. Everything they’d accomplished in the time of peace between their clans and everything they’d suffered to attain that peace would be for naught.

‘Send our trackers to see where they went.’

Rob nodded and went off to send the men on their assignment. Brodie walked back to edge of the forest and studied the perimeter. A small fragment of cloth clung to a broken branch where the path led away from the small cluster of cottages. He tugged it free and held it closer.

The colours and warp and weft were familiar to him for he’d seen his beloved Arabella wear it. In a shawl around her shoulders. In a sash across her bodice. In the blanket that lay at the bottom of their bed.

The pattern favoured by The Cameron’s clan weavers.

Glancing at the piece of torn cloth, Brodie shook his head, partly in resignation and partly in regret. Nodding at Rob, he mounted up and rode back to the keep, still grasping the bit of wool in his hand.

He wanted to be the first one to reveal this to his wife. If her family was betraying their honour and their agreement, she needed to know it first. He owed her that much.

Chapter One

Fia Mackintosh tried to turn her glance away but failed. Oh, she would be the first to admit that her efforts to avoid staring at the intimate scene before her were not her best. But truly, the sight before her was one she would admit she wanted to experience for herself. Not with the man involved—God forbid!—but with a man who would look at her the way her cousin the laird looked at his wife.

Brodie towered over Arabella even more so than he towered over most of the men of the clan. The lady was petite and known throughout the Highlands of Scotland as the most genteel and beautiful woman who lived there. And yet, not for a moment did Arabella seem intimidated by the huge man standing so close to her, leaning down over her. When Brodie pressed his lips to Arabella’s, Fia’s own lips tingled. But that was not the worst thing.

The worst thing was when a loud sigh escaped her control and echoed in the silence of the chamber.

Loud enough to draw Brodie’s attention from his wife. Loud enough to draw his attention to her instead. And even loud enough that Ailean, the lady’s cousin and companion, laughed aloud. Thankfully, Aunt Devorgilla was not here to witness her embarrassment. Once again, Fia had broken the rule that servants were never to be seen or heard from when not being addressed. It was a lamentable failing that her mother had long bemoaned and, once more, it had gotten Fia into trouble.

‘I beg your pardon, laird, my lady,’ she began in a soft voice and without lifting her gaze towards him. ‘I did not mean to intrude on a private moment.’

‘If he wanted a private moment, my husband would have sought me in our chambers earlier, Fia,’ Arabella said, laughing. She dared a peek now and watched as the lady pushed against her husband’s chest, barely moving him an inch. Even so, he stepped back and crossed his arms over that chest. ‘Brodie, I am well. You do not have to look in on me every hour of every day.’

Fia caught Ailean’s gaze and the truth struck her from the knowing look there—the lady was carrying another bairn. Daring a glance at them, Fia realised the laird was being protective, now more than before, because of the lady’s condition. Another sigh escaped as she hoped a man would hold her in such regard. Ailean laughed again at the sound and Fia felt the heat of a blush creep up her cheeks.

‘Go on now,’ Arabella said to her husband, who did not move a muscle in response. ‘You have embarrassed our Fia and I need her attention on her tasks.’ The mending lay forgotten on her lap. Fia grabbed for it to look busy and not lost in her thoughts which only made the laird laugh loudly.

‘I think our Fia understands, my love.’ Brodie leaned in and kissed Arabella’s forehead. ‘But I will leave you to your tasks.’

The wicked glint in his eyes warned Fia that he would not go quietly. So, when he reached out and pulled his wife into his arms and kissed her passionately, Fia had a moment to look away...

And she could not.

It was so romantic. So passionate. So...what she longed for in her own life. At least the next sigh that escaped went unnoticed by the others in the chamber.

‘Good day, Arabella,’ Brodie said as he set his wife back on her feet. ‘Good day, Ailean. Fia.’

He nodded to both of them and left the chamber, his long legs crossing the floor quickly. When the door slammed, it startled all three of them. The lady smoothed her hands down her gown and then tucked a few loose strands of hair back in the braids that hung down past her hips. Ailean stood and filled a cup for the lady. Fia, well, all she could do was smile at the wonderful news she’d gleaned from this encounter. When Arabella caught sight of her expression, she smiled, too.

‘I am not sharing the news yet,’ the lady said softly, her hand sliding over her belly in a protective gesture. ‘Not for a few more weeks, I think,’ she added. ‘But if Brodie continues his behaviour, everyone will realise it.’ The last pregnancy had been too brief and ended sadly, so it did not surprise Fia that they would wait on any announcement.

‘I will not speak of it, my lady,’ she promised. Serving as the lady’s maid often put Fia in situations where she would hear or see things not meant for others and she’d learned quickly how to keep confidences.

* * *

The remainder of the day moved quickly, as her days usually did, filled with tasks and duties, seeing to the lady’s needs, accompanying her wherever she went through the keep and beyond. Fia could not help but smile as the laird seemed to appear out of the mist several times as Arabella walked in the village or saw to her duties around the keep or to her bairns cared for in the nursery. The anger or rather frustration in the lady’s eyes always dissipated quickly as she gazed on her husband.

And each time that happened, Fia sighed.

Ailean and the lady took to laughing at the sound of it, but neither one took her to task over her naivety. The strange thing was that this was new to her. She’d worked for the lady for nigh on two years and, at first, took little notice of the goings-on of the romantic sort between Brodie and his wife. Only over the last several months had she begun to hear the whispered words and see the caresses and kisses.

Her mother had laughed the first time she’d witnessed Fia’s reaction. According to her mother, it was because she was nearing the time to consider marriage and she was now noticing ‘those matters.’

The truth was that Fia had noticed from her childhood days that there was something different...and lovely between Brodie Mackintosh and Arabella Cameron. Even when their clan suffered from the strife that divided them into two factions, forcing her and her family to live in exile in the mountains, Fia had watched the way her cousin treated the woman he’d kidnapped. Even having been only ten years at that time did not prevent her from seeing it.

In the years since, and especially since the lady kept her word and brought her to serve in the keep, it was so clear to Fia and everyone. And what woman in their right mind would not want such a match? Such a marriage? She sighed again. Such passion?

Now, as Fia helped the lady finish the last tasks of her day, before she would see to her bairns and husband, Arabella turned to both Ailean and her.

‘On the morrow, I will accompany Brodie to Achnacarry to visit my cousin,’ she said quietly. ‘No announcement will be made of our journey and so neither of you will be required.’

‘Arabella—’ Ailean began. Fia watched as the inevitable test of wills played out. ‘You are...’

‘My husband will see to my comfort and my safety,’ Arabella explained.

‘But the attacks?’ Ailean asked, wringing her hands together and shaking her head.

‘There has been no sign of more attacks in weeks, Ailean.’ Arabella smiled then and nodded to them both. ‘Who would be foolish enough to attack the armed escort of the mighty Brodie Mackintosh? I am completely safe with him at my side.’

Fia waited for Ailean’s next argument, for there were usually several. So, the quick capitulation was unexpected.

‘Very well,’ Ailean said softly as she nodded and looked away.

‘I am certain your mother would enjoy it if you stayed with her while I am gone,’ the lady suggested as she met Fia’s gaze. ‘I have put great demands on your time lately.’ Realising the decision had been made, Fia did not object.

‘You have not, my lady,’ she said. ‘But I appreciate your consideration.’ Even servants who were not kin were treated as though they were here amongst Brodie’s holdings. ‘I will go to the village in the morn after you have departed.’ Fia walked to the small dressing table and took up the brush there. ‘But for now, shall I see to your hair?’

‘I will see to that, Fia.’ The deep voice of the laird echoed across the chamber. Fia blushed then, her cheeks filling with the heat of it.

‘Very well, laird,’ she tried to say without stammering as she put the brush in his hand. ‘I will return in the morn then, my lady.’

She opened the door and allowed Ailean to precede her out. As Fia tugged the door closed, she heard the soft laughter of the lady within as Arabella chided her husband for embarrassing Fia once more.

Ailean walked down the corridor to her chambers and Fia made her way to the one she shared with several other maids. Moving quietly as she prepared for bed, she thought about asking Lady Eva if she required any help. Nessa, Lady Eva’s maid from Durness, had recently left her service when she’d married and the new maid was still learning her duties. Surely she would be appreciative of some help?

As she climbed beneath the bedcovers of her pallet, Fia knew what going home would mean. It would give her mother endless hours to press her to accept the miller’s son’s marriage proposal. It was a good match for a girl such as she. The daughter of villagers could not expect to marry above her place and, truly, Fia did not wish that.

She wished and dreamed of a man who would make her blush the way Brodie made Arabella. Or the way Rob did Eva. Fia wanted the excitement of being swept off her feet by a strong man who was able to protect her and love her and desire her the way those men clearly did their wives. Another sigh escaped as she pulled the blankets high and closed her eyes. Marrying Dougal, the miller’s son, would not give her what she sought.

As she dreamed that night, a man stood in the shadows holding out his hand to her. Fia walked towards him but hesitated, trying to see his face in the darkness there. Though she could see his black hair, all of his features remained out of her sight. He lifted his hand once more to her and she smiled, reaching out to him, to accept his offer.

She woke, tossing and turning, before anything else could happen.

Her mam believed in dreams, as did most of the old ones in the clan. Did this one mean she would meet the man of her dreams after all? That she should turn down Dougal’s suit and wait for the black-haired man to enter her life and reveal himself?

* * *

The rising sun found her awake still, considering the proposal she’d received and deciding whether or not to accept it. By the time she had seen Lady Arabella off on her journey and made her way to her parents’ cottage, she was nowhere closer to accepting that her future lay with Dougal, the miller’s son.

* * *

‘You should not tease her so, Brodie,’ Arabella warned him.

Right now, as he slid his hands into the twisted braids of her hair and loosened them, he cared not for much else going on in the world. Arabella was his world and he enjoyed the feel of her silken tresses cascading over the skin of his hands and arms. Knowing it would caress another part of him very soon made that part of his flesh rise and ready.

‘I did not do it to tease her, my love,’ he said, burying his face in it now and inhaling the scent of the heather and honey soap she used. ‘She is young and blushes at everything.’

‘Our Fia is a young woman, Brodie,’ his wife said, turning to face him now. ‘And she has been infatuated with you since the day I met her.’

‘Is that my fault? I assure you, I do nothing to encourage that.’

He slid his hands down to rest on her shoulders, drawing her closer to him. God, would the wanting never end? Six years together, two bairns and another on the way, and he needed to see her, to touch her, to hear her almost every hour of the day and night. Brodie leaned his head down and touched his mouth to hers. She opened to him as she always did and he tasted her deeply.

‘I do not think it is you,’ Arabella said as she leaned her face a scant bit away from his. Clearly she wished to speak more on this matter before seeing to his important matters.

‘Then what is it?’ Brodie dropped his hands and took a step back. Mayhap some distance would ease his need for her? He knew in an instant it would not make a difference.

‘She wears the hope of a young woman seeking her first love in her eyes,’ his wife said, letting out a sigh much as the girl did. ‘She thinks that our beginning and Rob’s with Eva are romantic.’

‘I kidnapped you and held you against your will. Rob chased Eva, caught her and married her against her will. That is romantic?’ Brodie asked, shaking his head. No matter how long he was married, no matter how much he thought he did, ’twas clear he did not and would not ever understand women. ‘I cannot fathom it.’

Arabella stepped closer to him now and his body waited for her touch. She lifted her hand and touched his arm with only a finger, tracing up on to his shoulder and down on to his chest. He wished with all his might that his garments would drop away on their own so that her finger touched his flesh.

‘You do not understand the appeal of being rescued by a handsome Highland warrior who becomes chieftain of his clan.’ He tried to meet her gaze but he was caught by the movement of her finger as it slid lower and lower. ‘Of being sought by a strong man who protects you against your enemies and reclaims a part of your soul you lost.’ He was going to argue that point, for it had not happened quite that way between Rob and Eva, but when her finger crossed his belt and pressed against the fabric, he forgot how to think.

Another finger joined the first and then another until her hand cupped him, forcing a gasp from him. She paused, holding his sensitive flesh in her palm, and she met his gaze. Arabella was waiting for him to say something and Brodie struggled to remember the topic of their conversation. The girl. Her romantic dreams or some such thing.

‘I...um...will try... Oh, hell, Arabella! I cannot put a thought together when you touch me like this!’ Her laugh echoed around them both and lightened his heart.

‘Be kind to her, Brodie. She is young and deserves to dream before she faces the reality of life.’

‘Should I find someone to kidnap her? To sweep her off her feet as I did you, my love?’ He did just that then, lifting his wife into his arms and carrying her to their bed. ‘Then she can see how romantic it was for us.’

He followed her down and climbed between her thighs. Now she could feel the hard length of him—the one that she had caused with nothing more than a kiss and a caress. When she pushed against his chest, he lifted his weight from her.

‘Brodie, she will find her own love, kidnapped or not. Just have a care for her tender feelings and sensitivities right now.’

‘Fine! But now, my gentle wife, you should have a care for my tender feelings,’ he teased. Sliding his hips, he watched her face as her body reacted on its own.

‘Aye, my handsome Highland warrior,’ she said, opening her legs so he could move closer to the place he knew would be ready for his touch. ‘Come now, let me see to your tender feelings.’

The morning came too soon for his preference, but he would hold her closely every night for the rest of their lives. He would discuss possible marriages for the girl when they returned from Achnacarry. He might not arrange a kidnapping but he could arrange a suitable marriage.

Chapter Two

A few days later...

Niall Corbett watched, arms crossed over his chest, as the motley group spread out over the area and claimed their places. As it did each time they found a spot in which to lay a camp, the fighting over the choicest bits began almost immediately. Though Anndra was the biggest fighter amongst them, Micheil was smaller, quicker and meaner.

While the shouting and brawling continued, Niall walked to a place that was on the perimeter of the clearing, higher than the surrounding ground and covered by a tree. It would do for now.

He dropped his belongings, few as they were, and seated himself on a nearby log to see the outcome of the fighting. As he expected, Micheil claimed victory once more and kicked Anndra’s bags off the small patch of grass near the fire pit and placed his own there.

Lundie, Niall noticed, almost mirrored him. Arms crossed, watching the fight and resolution with thinly disguised contempt and resignation. No matter how many times Lundie had ordered the men not to fight amongst themselves, this small disruption happened at every new place where they camped. And over the six months that Niall had spent with these men that was a goodly number of fights. A few blackened eyes and cracked ribs were usually the result, so Lundie ignored it most of the time.

Niall walked through the area and realised it had been an organised camp some time ago. Caves into the mountainside held remnants of those who had lived here. With the mountain’s forests and height to hide it, this would be an excellent place to hide for a long time. Lundie approached, so Niall stood.

‘Someone used this place,’ Lundie said. ‘’Tis too organised for another explanation.’ Niall nodded.

‘Nothing like the shielings the Highland clans use to watch their herds,’ Niall added. ‘The caves there show signs of having been used, too.’

‘Do ye think ’tis safe for us to stay here?’ Lundie, the man running this gang, had grown trusting of his opinion over the last months. A part of Niall’s plan that was a success.

‘With that old man’s death on our last raid? I suspect no place will be safe for us for long.’

The Mackintosh was not known for his mercy but rather his strength and shrewdness. The death of one of his people would cause him to take notice and action against those responsible. Niall glanced once more across the clearing at just those men. He’d like to think it had just gotten out of control, but something niggled at him when he thought on how the whole raid had happened. If he had doubted it was planned, Lundie’s next words confirmed it for him.

‘’Twas bound to happen,’ the man said, shrugging his shoulders and looking away.

So, whoever was giving Lundie orders gave that one as well.

A line had been crossed with that death. What Niall was certain was meant only to be harassment was now much more serious. If a man’s death was part of the bigger plan, what could be next?

‘We will only be here for a few days. It should be safe enough for that,’ Lundie said, his decision clearly made and the plan set in place. Niall could only nod as Lundie walked to the centre of the clearing and waited until he gained every man’s attention.

He was not the leader who had a masterplan in mind, but only that leader’s second-in-command. Someone else, someone more powerful, had designed these attacks and somehow benefitted from them. After each raid or attack, Lundie would disappear to meet with the one who gave the orders and then return with the orders for the next step. Niall needed to discover the identity of that one who had some plan to sow discord between the now allied Camerons and Mackintoshes.

Though his own orders gave him permission to do as he must, both to maintain his anonymity and to identify the leader of this plan, he did not countenance taking lives. Especially not innocent villagers who did not raise resistance but only protected themselves. But, from Lundie’s comments, their activities had escalated and would again soon. Lundie pulled out a small sack and weighed it in his palm. Coins jingled within and the others smiled and moved closer. Niall watched and waited.

‘Ye have done good work and yer reward has arrived.’ Lundie tossed the bag to Iain Ruadh to distribute. Each man would get several gold pieces, more than any of them would have earned in years of honest toil. It took little more than that to gain compliance to whatever Lundie offered.

‘Iain Dubh,’ Lundie said, calling Niall by the name he’d used during his time with them, ‘’twill be yer turn for a reward on the next raid.’ Though the others grumbled, they’d each earned the chance to claim something from their endeavour. ‘Choose something ye like and ’tis yers.’

Niall nodded in acceptance and smiled as he received his gold. If their previous pattern held, Lundie would reveal their next target and they would attack on the morrow. Only the death of the old man had made them pause for any length of time. Tucking the coins into a small pocket in his leather jack, he waited for the rest of it.

‘The Mackintosh has left his lands and gone to The Cameron,’ Lundie revealed. ‘On the morrow, we will make a small visit to Drumlui village.’

Niall forced himself to react as the others did. This was a huge challenge that the leader thought them ready for and the men listening smacked each other on the back and congratulated themselves for being given such a task. Niall’s stomach roiled and clenched at the thought of such a foolhardy mission.

No matter that Brodie Mackintosh left his lands, his commander and others would be in charge of the security of the keep and the village. Formidable defences were in place and even more would be at the ready if the chieftain was not in residence. Good Christ! This called out disaster to him more than anything else they’d done.

‘At nightfall, when the gates close, we will stir up a wee bit of trouble.’ When the men cheered, Lundie waved at them. ‘Nothing too much, ye ken. Just a little excitement that will surprise them.’

In other words, knock a few heads, toss a few cottages and get out. Niall shuddered at the thought of being that close to the main keep of The Mackintosh chieftain. He suspected that someone was trying to stir up trouble for the Mackintosh, but Niall did not want to be close enough to be caught when it happened.

‘Seek yer rest. We ride hard before daybreak, taking different paths to Glenlui, and will enter the village separately.’

Lundie nodded at the men who sought their places and readied for the night. No fires would be built that could draw attention, even in this remote location. They followed the same pattern as they had for months, posting guards who would take turns through the night. Niall could see no good from this newest plan, so he decided to say something to Lundie.

‘This is dangerous. You know that, Lundie,’ he said quietly so only the other man could hear. ‘Pricking at the man is one thing. Attacking his main village, at his keep, borders on madness.’

‘’Tis the order,’ Lundie replied, with another shrug of his shoulders. ‘Dinna worry. The pay will match the danger, Iain,’ Lundie reassured him, believing that greed and gold drove him as it did the others.

‘Well, then,’ Niall said, nodding. Let Lundie think it was about the money then. On the morrow, Niall would be on his guard.

* * *

So, after sitting in the caves, dry at least, for a day they’d not planned on, they made their way down from the mountains and to the village. Niall made his way into the village, riding past the gateway of the keep without staring at the tall, stone walls around a taller stone keep. He dismounted, leaving his horse tied nearby, and went to the baker. After buying one of the man’s last remaining loaves, he eased his way along the paths, observing the villagers who lived and worked here.

It did not take long to notice her.

A young woman, tall and lithe, walked past him and was trailed by a young man who he took little notice of. But, it took only one glance to assess this situation. The young man, awkward and lanky, wanted the woman. The woman who barely gave him a moment’s attention. Until she stopped and turned, giving Niall his first good look at her.

Good God, she was a beauty!

She wore a plain gown, but that was the only unremarkable feature of hers. Green eyes the shade of the summer forest. A gently sloping nose that led his gaze down to the most perfect mouth and lips he’d ever seen on a woman. She said something to the man and he imagined how her lips would taste and feel against his own. How her voice would sound as she whispered his name....

Niall shook his head, trying to understand the strange wanting that this woman caused. Tossing the last bit of bread in his mouth, he chewed it slowly while sorting out the cause of his reaction to her. He was not an untrained, inexperienced lad with no history of involvement with willing women. Before, before he became Iain Dubh, he had had his share of lovers and even since becoming this rogue, women had sought him out for bed play.

Nay, inexperience did not explain it. So, he stepped into the shadows of the path where he would not be seen and watched the exchange between the two.

Even without being able to hear their words, he could decipher what was happening. The man was trying to convince the woman to accept his offer. He shuffled from side to side, unable to meet the beauty’s gaze for more than a moment or two. Truly, Niall doubted he could have for much longer than that.

Then, the woman took the man’s hand and was clearly attempting to be kind about her obvious refusal. Was the man making an offer of marriage? He was bolder than Niall thought him to be if that was happening,

‘Dougal!’ the beauty said louder now. Ah, the hapless lad was called Dougal. ‘I have been as clear as I can about a match between us. I pray you to leave the matter now.’

Dougal, the hapless lad, opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to say something. The lad’s rebuttal to the lass’s refusal, Niall suspected. But the determined young woman—was she an Isabel or a Margaret?—did not give him the opportunity. She released his hand and stepped back, a clear message to one who had eyes to see it.

Niall let out a sigh and retrieved the apple he’d been carrying in his sack. Biting into it, he continued to watch this unexpected bit of entertainment to ease the waiting.

Bloody hell! He needed to get into position and realised the lass, and lad, would be in the middle of the coming disturbance. Glancing around, he wondered how to steer her away from it. Niall saw that his presence had not been noticed. Mayhap if they saw him, they would leave this area and go in some other direction?

He’d seen many other men and women in the months with this gang and had never thought of warning one of them, so why now? Why her? For it was the lass for whom he was concerned.

Without truly thinking on it more than that, he stepped out of the shadows, making enough noise to ensure she would hear him. And she did, stepping back even further now from young Dougal. She raised her eyes to his and Niall lost his breath with wanting and need for this perfect stranger.

Sucking in a breath, he nodded at her but remained where he stood. He wanted her to move down this pathway and away from the village well on his right. Tugging the reins of his horse, he slowly walked in front of her and she turned back to her companion and in the direction he wished her to go. After only a moment’s contemplation of her choices, the beauty faced him once more, staring at his face as though deciding if they had a past introduction.

He would have remembered meeting this one but could not. He’d never travelled to the lands of the Mackintosh and Cameron clans before this. If he’d seen her at court, his appearance would have been very different than it was now with dirt and grime covering most of his face and features and the worn and torn clothing of a band of men living on the road.

This close, he could see that her eyes were even more spectacular than at a distance, glimmering in this sun’s light as though touched by fae magic. Her gaze narrowed and he felt the heat of arousal race through him. Wiping the back of his hand across his now sweaty forehead, Niall struggled with his control.

‘Good day, sir,’ she said quietly, still searching his face. ‘Do you have need of something?’

Did she have to phrase her words so? His randy bits took a different meaning from them than the simple courteous one she meant. The sound of her voice, soft but with deep tones tracing through it, was as sensual as he’d thought it would be. Before he could reply, hapless Dougal walked to her side, and even took a step closer, positioning himself as her protector. The poor lad would never stand against what was coming.

‘Good day to ye both,’ he said, making his accent rougher to blend with the more common one of the gang. ‘Nay, just travellin’ on and stopped for a drink from the well there.’ Niall nodded at the stone structure—a common reason and place for visitors to stop.

‘The dipper sits in a bucket at its side,’ the beauty replied. Hapless Dougal glared and crossed his arms over his meagre chest, mayhap able to read more in Niall’s gaze at the young woman than she did.

Niall pulled his horse along, blocking the rest of the path, and feinted towards the well. The sound of stirring trouble began echoing into the clearing. The other two glanced to the source of the sounds and the woman took a step towards it. Without thinking, Niall grabbed her by the shoulders, ignoring her gasp, and pushed her in the other path.

‘Go. Now. Away from here,’ he whispered fiercely so that only she could hear his words.

She stumbled back a few steps and into hapless Dougal, who caught her. Niall could waste no more time here without exposing himself to the outlaws, so he did not spare another glance at her. Instead, he mounted and rode off towards the growing disturbance, knowing he must play his part.

The lass would have to see to herself, no matter how much his randy bits wanted him to do otherwise. That he had to force himself not to look back at her told Niall that she was more dangerous to him than any other challenge he’d encountered thus far. And these last months had presented him with many more than he’d ever thought to face.

The spreading chaos and noise drew his full attention now and he could give little more thought to the enticing, green-eyed temptress.

Chapter Three

At first, the stranger distracted her.

Fia was accustomed to meeting strangers in her duties to Lady Arabella, for many people came from all over Scotland and the world to visit the powerful chief of the Chattan Confederation. But this man was not of the same quality of those who called on Brodie Mackintosh. Oh, he met with villagers and farmers, but not those who had every appearance of living on the other side of the law.

This man stood as tall and was as muscular as Brodie himself. And though his garments were as soiled as he was, there was something about him that belied his condition. His blue eyes gleamed against his dark hair and the dirt that covered the masculine angles of his face. How long he’d remained in the shadows, listening to her conversation with Dougal over his proposal of marriage, she knew not.

And his strange words ordering her away. As though she would obey a stranger in her own village without reason.

But none of that mattered when she heard the screams split the air. Glancing around, she realised that the gates of the keep would be closed by now for the night. With the setting sun, the village was isolated and unguarded, more so than the keep for its lack of warriors and weapons. And the sounds coming from the western edge of the village forced her to act.

‘Dougal! You must run to the keep. Get help!’ she said, as she turned once more to the growing disturbance. ‘Now, Dougal!’

Fia did not wait for an answer. She ran down the path, past the well and through the rush of villagers escaping from whatever was happening. Reaching the split in the paths—one led to the fields, the other to other crofts and the mill—she watched in horror as the mayhem spread. Wagons were overturned. Fights broke out between some of the villagers and the men who seemed the cause of it all. When two galloped by her towards their cronies, Fia lost her breath.

In a moment, she was thrown back in her mind to the attack on the camp those years ago. Only ten years of age, she had been caught in the open as Caelan’s men rode in, trampling anyone in their path. Glancing around this open area, with those two knocking down anyone they could and yelling all sorts of crude words and threats, Fia was that ten-year-old lass once more. The sights and sounds blended together in her thoughts, memories now feeling real and twisted with the events of the moment.

Until a child screamed out in fear.

Those years ago, it had been the lady Arabella who’d saved her, pulling Fia from the path of the attackers and pushing her to safety. Fia knew she must act or the child would be injured or worse by these uncaring fiends. Ducking low and running across the clearing, she sought the child and saw her crying in the midst of confusion. They were burning something and acrid clouds of smoke began to spread through the closely built cottages on the lane.

‘Come, Meggy!’ she called out to the girl as she ran to her side. Grabbing the lass’s hand, she tugged her away from the fighting and into the woods around the crofts. ‘Where is your mam?’ she asked. All the girl could do was cry, so Fia hugged her for a moment and then placed her in a thick copse to hide her from sight. ‘I will find her and bring her to you. Do not leave here until I return!’

Pulling branches around the girl, Fia ran back to find Meggy’s mother. How they’d gotten separated, Fia could not imagine until she stumbled right over Anice where she lay unmoving in the path. Crouching down, she touched the woman’s face and whispered her name. Anice stirred but did not wake. Thank the Almighty, she was alive! Rolling her on to her back, Fia checked quickly for injuries before trying to drag the woman into the trees. She’d barely gotten a good hold on her when two riders began circling them.

‘What have we here?’ one called out, coming so close that his horse nudged her back. Nearly losing her balance, Fia adjusted her hold on Anice and tried to move her.

‘Here now, lass,’ taunted the other, a man with a rat-like face. He pushed his horse against her until she lost her grip on Anice. She stood then, brushing her loosened hair from her face. She took a quick look towards the keep before facing them.

‘Oh, they won’t be here for some time, ye ken?’ the first one said as he swung his leg over the back of his mount and dropped down next to her. Now, standing on the ground, she realised he was a huge man. Fia could not prevent the shudder that made her stumble then. ‘We made sure of that.’

Dougal? Had they caught Dougal on his way to the keep? Was he...? She backed away, slowly, step by step until she could go no further. Ratface was now behind her, trapping her between them. Fia tried not to panic but the terrifying lust in their gazes told her she would not escape.

‘Ah, now, Anndra, ye hiv scared the lass,’ Ratface said.

Aye, they had. Fia stood still, hoping not to cause them to take hold of her. If they did, her strength would do nothing against theirs.

The big man took another step closer and she could not breathe. He blocked her view of everything but his huge chest and meaty hands. Even though the noises around them grew, these two did not go back to their thievery and destruction. Nay, their gazes grew more intense and she feared now for her virtue and her life. When this Anndra nodded over her head at Ratface, she knew her time was at hand.

The large, strong hands grasping her shoulders now with a steel hold that hurt stopped her from getting away. She struggled against him, but it did no good. When she opened her mouth to scream, Ratface shoved a putrid scrap of cloth in her mouth and pulled her against him.

‘Come now, lass. We just need a wee bit of time to show ye how a real man pleasures a woman. Ye will no’ be sorry for it,’ he whispered against her ear, sliding his tongue down her neck and biting her shoulder. Her cry muffled by the cloth seemed to excite them more.

‘A real man now, Micheil?’ Anndra laughed and sliced the laces of her gown with one motion. As he reached for the edge of her shift, she began to fight them in earnest. Twisting and pulling against their grasp, Fia tried to escape. The rag in her mouth made it hard to breathe and impossible to cry out. ‘I will show her a real man and ye can watch and learn.’

The cloth of her shift was no match for his strength and she felt the cool air on her skin as he tore it open down to her waist. She pushed away from him, but that only forced her against the other man. The big one smiled, staring at her naked breasts as they grew taut, and he reached out to touch her. Fia held her breath, offering up a prayer for help. The sound of a sword being drawn behind them gave them pause.

‘Why, thank ye, gentlemen,’ someone called out from behind the huge man. ‘Ye found her.’

Micheil cursed in her ear, a foul string of words she did not truly understand. Anndra turned, but kept her between them.

‘Found who?’ he called out.

‘That lass ye hiv between ye there.’

Anndra shifted again and Fia took advantage of him not holding her to drop to her knees and scrabble away. She did not get far before Anndra grabbed her by her hair and dragged her to her feet. It took a moment of absolute silence before she realised that the men gaped at her now. As she tried to clutch the rent edges of her clothing, she finally saw the third man.

The stranger. He was one of them. Had he been searching for her during the chaos? Confused and in pain, Fia struggled to free herself. The tall man walked closer, sword drawn, and she could not tell if he was friend or foe. He had warned her away, given her a chance to flee ahead of the danger, even if she had not heeded his words. Before any more could be said, a loud and shrill whistle pierced the air and the three all canted their heads at it.

‘Weel, then,’ the stranger said. ‘’Tis time to move on.’

‘’Twill take only a minute or two,’ Anndra said, pulling her closer.

‘She is mine,’ Micheil said, tugging her to himself.

Fia managed to pull the gag from her mouth in the struggle and fought in earnest against them. Using a trick she’d learned from the boys in the village, she knocked her head back into Micheil’s face, aiming for his rat-like, narrow nose. His howl of pain was satisfying, for a moment, until Anndra turned to grab her.

‘Nay,’ the stranger said, walking closer and holding his sword up. ‘Lundie said I get my pick this time. And I picked her.’

Now he reached out and took her arm, pulling her away from the others. From their expressions, it would not be that simple. The stranger stared at her even while he spoke to the men.

‘Lundie? Did ye no’ give me my choice?’

‘Aye.’ A man she’d not seen before walked his horse forward from the shadows. ‘If ye want to waste it on a piece of tail, fine though she may be, go on wi’ ye then.’

Lundie looked at the other men and nodded, ordering them away. When they’d taken off running, he looked at the stranger and then tilted his head in her direction.

‘Ye ken the problems it’ll cause, dinna ye?’ Then, this Lundie let his gaze move over her from her feet to her head, pausing at her belly and her breasts. She tugged the edges of torn cloth closer to cover her flesh. ‘’Twould be easier if ye just took her now and were done wi’ her.’

The stranger walked up to her, lifting her chin even as she trembled. For some reason, she suspected any dirty fighting moves would be familiar to him. He’d wanted her away before and mayhap he would allow it now?

‘Oh, I will take her,’ he whispered just before his mouth touched her and told her the answer without words.

Fia was not prepared for the onslaught of sensations caused by this man’s kiss. Oh, it was nothing like any kiss she’d received before. Those had been innocent. Those had been hesitant. This, this was searing and possessive. It was not long before she realised he had no plans to let her go.

He slid his hand into her hair, tangling his fingers in it and holding her mouth to his. Pressing with his tongue, he sought an opening and soon found it when she tried to speak. For a moment, just the slightest bit of time passing, she forgot her situation. She forgot herself and could only feel the growing heat pulsing through her.

For a moment. Then everything crashed down on her as she remembered. So, she bit him. He yelled but he pulled himself away as she’d wanted him to do.

‘Damn ye!’ he said, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

‘A problem, I tell ye,’ Lundie called out. Another whistle made them both look towards the keep. ‘Take her or leave her, but do it now. We ride!’ Lundie turned his horse and rode off.

‘I pray you, please let me go,’ she said, trying to step away from him. ‘My friend needs help there.’ She nodded to where Anice yet lay unconscious.

Without waiting for his reply, she slowly backed away and moved towards Anice. The sounds of the fighting were less but now the clamour rose in the direction of the keep. Warriors were coming.

‘Go. Now. Away from here,’ she said, knowing those words had been his own to her. She ran towards Anice only to be caught by the large man called Anndra who’d returned unnoticed. He wrapped his beefy arm around her waist and spun her to face the other man.

‘If ye keep losing her, I think I wi’ keep her for meself.’

Any thought that she would be released fled as the stranger strode across the clearing. His gaze was hard now with no sign of the desire that she’d seen there before. And no sign of relenting and letting her go.

‘This is the way ye do it,’ Anndra said quietly behind her.

Before she could turn around, her head exploded in pain and the whole village around her went black.

* * *

Niall cursed under his breath as the lass crumpled under the blow. Anndra held on to her and smiled grimly at him. Niall ran to his horse and mounted, riding to the two and reaching down to grab her and pull her over his legs.

As another whistle sounded, he understood there was little time left to do anything but get away. Taking her or leaving her was no longer a choice he could make, so he turned his horse and rode off to the west. He, Anndra and Lundie followed one path that would lead them across a stream, destroying their scent and their trail.

He tried to ignore the woman in his lap. Niall had to hold her in place there so she would not slip off. Riding with her dead weight was difficult but had to be done. From the feel of her body, she was alive though not awake. His true trouble would begin when she woke.

Lundie had said this would cause problems? Oh, aye, it already had and would continue to do so until he found a way to get rid of her. One woman in a gang of men was not a good thing. A glance at Anndra and he knew claim of her being his prize would only last so long and then go out of control.

They crossed the fields quickly, followed the stream away from Glenlui and into the deep thickness of the forest, always heading north and west. Their travel slowed with the full dark after the sun set, but Lundie picked his way along the rough path in the light of the rising moon. The lass had not stirred at all as they crossed the miles leading away from her village. When Lundie called a halt, Niall slowed at his side.

‘Ye shoulda left her behind,’ he said, spitting into the dirt. His words were low enough that Anndra could not hear.

‘Anndra had other plans for her,’ he admitted part of the truth.

‘There is a soft spot in ye that will be yer death, Iain.’

Niall could not disagree about either of Lundie’s suppositions. But, for so long, he’d been someone other than himself and, for the first time in that long time, his action to protect her felt like the man he used to be. A nobleman. Yet, Lundie was correct—acting like the nobleman he’d been raised to be would get him killed on this mission.

He watched as Lundie climbed down and tied his horse near a grassy patch off the path. Lundie ordered Anndra to the stream for water and then he walked to Niall’s horse and reached up to take her. She did not react at all as he handed her down and then tied his own horse to graze. Niall pulled a rolled blanket from under his saddle and opened it on a dry area of ground. Lundie laid the woman on it and then lit a torch so they could see to setting up their meagre camp.

Her hair had come free from her braid and lay around her like a crown, gold strands in the brown reflecting the torch’s light. Niall fought the urge to sift through its silkiness with his fingers and concentrated on his true task—check the back of her head where Anndra clubbed her. His hand came away with fresh blood.

Lundie walked to him and handed him the flask in his other hand. Niall took a deep swallow and passed it back. He waited on the man’s words.

‘A fortnight.’

‘A fortnight?’ he asked.

‘I’ll give ye a fortnight wi’ her. If she’s still alive then, ye find a way to rid yerself of her or I will.’ Lundie met his gaze until Niall nodded, accepting the message given. ‘Anndra’s bringing water. Clean her up and get some rest. I will take the first watch.’

Everything was accomplished in a short time and, soon enough, the lass’s head was bandaged and her gown tied together with some strips of cloth from her shift. Niall settled behind her still form as Lundie put out the torch. They would take no chances of being seen in the darkness by keeping it burning through the night. As the air began to chill and she shivered in his arms, he tugged the edge of the plaid he wore over his trews free and tossed it over both of them. He’d only just closed his eyes when she moaned. Though it was a soft sound, it drew his attention immediately.

‘Hush now,’ he whispered. ‘No one will harm you now.’

Niall felt her sink back into unconsciousness and thought on his promise. Anndra shifted on his blanket nearby, making Niall wonder just how long he could or would keep her for himself in the ever-increasing danger of this mission.

But, he would do what he must because there was too much to lose otherwise.

Chapter Four

The pain in her head roused her.

Unlike anything she’d felt in the whole of her life, it made her stomach roll and the bile rise. Fia knew she must roll off her back, but the waves of agony stopped her. Her groan of misery echoed out before she could prevent it.

‘Here now,’ a voice whispered in the darkness.

Strong hands gently moved her to her side and, if she did nothing, she discovered the pain did not worsen with the movement. Her stomach did though, rebelling and causing her to retch. Now, those hands, and arms, lifted her to her knees and held her as her misery grew. When her body ceased its rebellion, the arms laid her back down slowly and carefully.

‘The head wound, I’m afraid, is the cause of that.’

Fia lifted her hand to her head, searching for the cause of the pain and found an egg-size lump there on the left side of it. That injury. Her thoughts and memories were muddled as she tried to remember what had happened. All of it was in darkness, as she was now. Complete blackness surrounded her. Blinking, she tried to see anything and could not. Panic rose now within her, making it difficult to breathe.

‘Let me light a torch,’ the voice said as though it, he, knew what she was feeling.

She knew that voice. She did. But in the growing fear, she could not remember the person who’d spoken. Fia felt movement around her and then a flash and sparks as he used a flint to light a torch. The brightness hurt her eyes so she closed them until she became accustomed to it. Then, she looked at the man who’d helped her.

The same stranger who’d accosted her in the village during the attack. The same man who’d tried to warn her away from the coming danger. The same one who’d kissed her.

‘Who are you?’ she asked. She began to push herself up to sit and the pain and dizziness made her stop.

‘I will clean that up first,’ he said, nodding at the smelly mess near her.

Fia could only watch as he retrieved a shovel from outside and dealt with it. Her nausea lessened when the odour was gone. She also took the opportunity to look around the place where they were.

It looked very familiar to her, but its name and location escaped her. Only then she heard the voices outside the...cave! They were in a cave.

‘Do ye think he means to kill her?’ someone asked loud enough for her to hear.

‘I had hopes he’d share her before that,’ another replied.

‘I didna think he was that kind,’ a different voice added.

‘What kind?’ that first voice asked.

‘Ye ken. The kind that resorts to killing a lass who willna...’

‘Haud yer wheesht!’ the man in question yelled. He dragged his free hand through his hair and looked back and forth between the shovel he yet carried and the opening of the cave. ‘I amna killing her!’

‘Will ye share her then?’ the other man asked as though it was a reasonable request. Share her? Share her!

She moved then, pain or no damn pain. She pushed herself back, scrambling until she hit the wall. Looking for something she could use as a weapon, she found nothing. Fia found it difficult to even keep her eyes open, but she knew she must. When he stepped away from the opening and towards her, she put her hands out in front of her.

There were two of him, nay, three now. The watery shadows thrown off by the flickering torch made it impossible for her to tell what she saw. Fia rubbed her eyes and blinked several more times. He seemed closer now. As he crouched down before her, she pressed herself against the wall.

‘I will not kill you, lass,’ he said, dropping the shovel to the ground. Holding out empty hands, he nodded. ‘And I have no intention of sharing your charms with them,’ he added.

His tone reassured her but only until she realised what he’d said. Not killing her was a good thing. However, even in her muddled mind, she understood he’d only agreed not to share her with the outlaws sitting outside. He did not say he would not take her himself.

She followed his gaze and was horrified to see that her shredded gown exposed her legs to him. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she wrapped and tucked the gown’s edges tightly around her. His expression did not change much—the lust was clear but now a touch of amusement entered his eyes.

‘You were the ones who attacked the village.’ Her words hung there between them and, as she watched, his gaze turned dark.

‘“Attacked” is a strong word,’ he said, sitting now and crossing his legs in front of him, dusting dirt off his hands. ‘We simply had some fun.’

‘Killing and attacking innocents in the village? Burning the cottages? Destroying their possessions? I call that despicable!’

Fia said it with such force that her head ached even more. She closed her eyes for a moment and opened them to find him only inches from her. She’d neither heard nor saw him move, he’d done it so quickly. He leaned in even closer until she could feel the heat of his breath on her face.

‘Considering your situation, I would suggest you not be making such accusations loud enough to be heard. My friends out there will not take kindly to such things,’ he began. He smiled then, one that would have been devastating if under different circumstances, and she waited for the rest of the threat she knew was coming. ‘And, since I am the only one standing between you and the lads who want to be sharing your favours, I suggest you keep such words to yourself.’

Fia nodded and he stood and moved away, gathering some items from around the cave. She had been stupid and she knew it. Better to say nothing than to risk insulting or inflaming those who held her prisoner. Fia vowed to remain silent, as much as she could, until she understood what was happening. He approached once more, this time slowly, and held out a skin and a sack to her.

‘You likely do not feel like eating or drinking right now, but this is watered ale and some bannocks. Bland enough on even an unsettled belly.’ When she hesitated, he placed them next to her. ‘There’s also a bucket there for...your needs.’

He was seeing to her comfort, such as it was. Why? When she did not respond, he shrugged and stepped back.

‘I would think you would soon be hungry after two days without.’

‘Two days?’ she asked. ‘I have been here two days?’ So much for her vow of silence.

‘Nay. We were on the road for most of that time. Here, just lately.’

Her thoughts filled with dozens of questions. So many they overwhelmed her and what little strength she had. All she could do for now was to nod. Part of her struggled to keep control while the other part wanted to begin crying and ranting at this stranger before her.

‘I have to see to something. I will return in a while.’

Had he seen her struggle? Did he know how close to falling apart she was? Whether or not he had, it made no difference to her in this moment. She appreciated being given some time to sort things out. As she sat there, confused and dizzy from pain, she heard him call out to the others as he left the cave.

‘I’ve never had to force a lass afore,’ he said. ‘Wi’ this pretty face and my soft words, I wi’ have her beneath me, panting, afore she kens I’ve tasted her charms!’ The men laughed loudly.

Stunned by such a claim, she could only listen to his boldness.

‘On her back. Agin’ the wall. It matters no’ to me, lads,’ he called out. ‘The lass wi’ have Iain Dubh plundering between her legs afore she can say my name!’

‘Iain Dubh!’ the others called out. ‘Iain Dubh!’ It became a chant to them and a challenge to her.

The man was a scoundrel of the worst kind. These outlaws saw this all as some kind of game and now she, or her virtue, was their quarry. As the anger rose, something else played in her thoughts. Listening now to the chatter, she heard this Iain Dubh speak to the others in the rough accent of those uneducated. Though she had learned the more cultured way of speaking necessary for service to the wife of the chieftain, clearly these ruffians had not.

But Iain Dubh had.

When he spoke to her, when others could not hear, his rough accent disappeared and he spoke as someone educated would speak. Like a nobleman.

She had lost her mind if she thought him a nobleman. A desperate laugh bubbled up within her at such a thought. Fia blamed it on being caught by outlaws, kidnapped and attacked and brought here to this damp and dismal place.

A nobleman amongst a gang of thieves and criminals?

When her head calmed and she could move without pain and dizziness, she saw to her needs and managed to turn her shift so it did not open in the front. She put the gown back on and tied the strips of her linen shift around her to keep it closed as best she could. A needle and thread would be helpful, but what kind of outlaws carried such things with them?

It was as ludicrous as thinking she’d heard someone of noble birth here.

* * *

He’d adopted the look and ways of common criminals.

He’d adopted a new name.

He’d pretended to be this other man, a rogue in the company of outlaws, robbing and plundering, drinking and swiving their way across the Highlands in search of riches.

But when he was with her, all of that fell aside and he wanted to be the other one. And saying what he’d said to the rest of them had been the most difficult acting of his life.

He had no intention of forcing himself on an unwilling woman, but the others did not need to know that. He, whether Iain Dubh or Lord Niall Corbett, was good—very good—at seduction. Niall had saved her life and if he eased her fears and she wanted to show him some soft gratitude, he would accept it.

For now, he needed to remain in his disguise and keep the others from suspecting he was anything or anyone but the man he portrayed. The only thing he would commit to was trying to keep her alive until he could arrange to release her somewhere. As long as she went along with him and did not know their location, he was certain Lundie would not care.

Niall sought out some ale and drank it as the others spoke in great detail about what they’d like to do with the young woman in the cave, reinforcing his suspicions. Good Christ, but he did not need this complication now! It had taken all his wits and intelligence to stay ahead of the very suspicious gaze of Lundie for these last months. He was close now, so close to finishing his task and regaining everything meaningful in his life. He would let no one, including himself, get in the way of his success.

And especially not some woman who simply crossed his path and made his cock stand. Silence surrounded him and he realised that he was staring at the cave...and the others were staring at him. Anndra, the huge fighter, stood, grabbed him by the arm, pulled him to his feet and thrust him towards the cave.

‘Go on wi’ ye now!’ he shouted. ‘The faster ye’ tire of her, the faster I get my turn, ye ken!’ Anndra grabbed his crotch in a crude gesture and the rest of them laughed boisterously at it. No doubt they were thinking of the same manner of things.

They expected him to avail himself of the woman within, so Niall bowed and saluted them and walked to the cave. He had spoken loudly enough for her to hear everything. But, the look of pain and exhaustion on her face when he’d left gave no surety that she was even awake. In a way, he hoped not. He leaned down and entered quietly, waving off several offers to help.

She sat where he’d left her, but something was different about her. She leaned against the wall, her head leaning to one side. Her braid was back in place and the bandage on her head looked fresh.

And she slept, sitting up like that, back against the wall. He walked closer and spied a knife clutched in one hand. Where had she found that? Glancing at his boot, he realised he must have lost it in carrying her in and settling her down. Since it was not his sgian-dubh, he worried not over it.

As Niall watched her slow, even breaths, he realised that he had no idea of her name. Not once in their interaction had hapless Dougal spoken it. No one in the village had called out to her. That might be the first thing he asked her after he woke her. And, hearing those rude comments outside, Niall knew he must put on a show for them or risk their entrance into the cave. Letting out an exasperated breath, he stood and put his hands on his hips.

‘Well, lass,’ he said loudly. ‘Are ye ready for me?’ From the guffaws outside, he knew they were listening. She startled awake, even now still confused by the head injury and fear, from the dark expression that filled her gaze.

‘Nay!’ she yelled. Scrambling against the wall, when she could go no further she lifted her hand and held the knife between them. Her hands shook more with each step he took closer.

‘Ah, lass,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘If I want ye, that little sticker willna stop me.’ He laughed then, forcing it out. ‘And I have a blade I will use.’ The raucous laughter meant he’d been heard.

‘I will use it,’ she threatened, even as her grip loosened and her head tilted. ‘I will...’ The knife dropped and she fell to one side.

Niall quickly laid her down on the blankets and tossed another over her, drawing her body away from the cold, damp cave wall. He tucked the knife into her hand and closed her fingers around it. Though he was not at present a danger to her, there were many others who might be. The knife would give some pause. Then, he walked out of the cave and approached the fire there, and, with a flair, placed his hands over his heart.

‘She has, alas, been overtaken by my charms,’ he said. He poured some whisky into a battered cup and raised it. ‘May she have more stamina on the morrow!’

‘Ye are too squeamish, Iain,’ Micheil called out. ‘She canna fight if she is not awake.’

‘And now we ken why Micheil is so popular with the lasses,’ Niall said in a droll tone. Raising his cup once more in the man’s direction, he continued, ‘May Micheil discover that tupping a lass who is awake is much more fun than his way!’

As Niall had hoped, the others continued to drink and the banter went on for some time. When the time came and the fire was put out, he only hoped that he could find some way through this on the morrow. To add to his difficulties, he now had two weeks to find a way to save this woman who had stumbled into his path.

God help them both!

Achnacarry Castle

Brodie Mackintosh listened to the messenger’s grim news and nodded. The man bowed and stepped out of the chamber, leaving Brodie to face Arabella and her cousin. When the door shut, he walked to Arabella’s side and took her hand.

‘There’s been another attack, but this time it was Drumlui village.’ He’d discovered that his wife did not like prevarication when it came to distressing news, so he shared the rest of it. ‘Some damage. A number of injuries.’ He paused and took a breath. ‘Fia has been taken.’

‘Fia?’ Arabella said as she stood and shook her head in denial.

‘She was in the village when it happened. Just after the gates closed at sunset three days ago. Rob has sent out searchers and trackers. We will find her, Bella.’

‘She’s just a lass,’ she whispered. Ever since Arabella had met Fia in their camp, she had taken to her as though the girl was their own daughter. ‘What will happen to her, Brodie? We must find her.’

‘We will, Bella.’ Brodie faced Bella’s cousin who now sat in the chieftain’s chair of the Clan Cameron. In spite of Gilbert’s denials, Brodie still suspected some involvement. The man was greedy in a way that hearkened back to the original of their clans’ feud. In a way that even ruthless Euan never had been. ‘I would appreciate your help in this matter, Gilbert. The girl is kin.’

Though Gilbert nodded, Brodie sensed there was something more going on here.

‘Certainly,’ Gilbert said, nodding to his servant. ‘Send for Alan.’

Alan was The Cameron responsible for Brodie’s acquittal of charges of murdering Malcolm, Arabella’s brother and the man who was intended to be chieftain. He could find anything and anyone and Brodie had no one among his own kith and kin who was better.

‘My lord, he is away at Tor Castle now. He should return in two days,’ the servant replied.

‘Send word for him to go immediately to Drumlui Keep. The Mackintosh’s man will give him further instructions on his arrival.’

Brodie nodded at Gilbert. Arabella’s eyes were filled with fear over the girl’s fate. No one needed to speak of the possibilities.

‘We will return home at first light,’ he said. ‘Better to be closer when she is found and returned.’

He hoped his voice sounded more confident than he felt. In truth, if the girl was found, ’twas most likely she would be dead. And, if not dead, then...

‘Brodie, why would they take her?’ Arabella asked, her voice trembling.

She already knew the answer, but he could see it was her fear and worry that made her ask it. And, truly, what could he say? Gilbert’s snort of derision made his blood boil. If he had not been committed to keeping the peace between their clans, Brodie would have punched him in the face to remove the sneer that went with the sound.

‘We will find her, Bella,’ he vowed.

‘And then?’ his wife asked.

‘We will bring her home.’

They ate in silence that evening, no one offered any chatter or gossip when all knew of the situation and the seriousness of it. The hours crawled by and neither he nor Bella slept a wink.

* * *

Barely had the first glimmer of sun brightened the sky when they bade Gilbert farewell and rode out of the castle’s yard on to the road that would take them south to Drumlui.

These attacks were well planned and escalating to the point where it would be expected for him to take action. Brodie doubted not that some sign of The Camerons had been found at the site of the attack in the village. So, someone was trying to stir up trouble in a very large manner. As they rode towards Drumlui, Brodie thought on who would benefit from an escalation in hostilities between his family and Arabella’s.

Chapter Five

A bright light cut through the darkness.

Her head hurt but so did her neck and her back. She struggled to remember why. Had she been sick? Had she been...?

It all flooded back to her in a moment and she groaned as the memories of the attack and the stranger filled her mind. Reaching up, she tried to feel the back of her head and was surprised to see the knife in her grasp.

Fia knew Iain had returned to the cave and could remember the bawdy calls from the others. She could see him standing before her, expecting her to...to... And then she could not remember. Sitting up, she placed the knife on the ground close by and rearranged her clothing. With a cautious pressure, she tested the size and tenderness of the lump on her head and discovered it seemed a bit less than the last time she remembered checking it.

As she climbed to her feet, Fia realised the dizziness was gone as well. Wobbling as she stood, she waited for her knees to stop shaking before walking to the bucket there. When she’d sorted herself out, she noticed that it was quiet outside the cave. Creeping to the opening, she leaned down and peeked outside.

She could see only as far along the path as the turn in it just a few yards away. Even kneeling down did not make it possible to see more. Dare she leave the cave? Would they have left her here alone? Had they moved on without her?

Without any idea of where she was, Fia suspected she would have to escape on her own and try to get back to Mackintosh lands if they had left them. But the memories of Brodie speaking to Arabella about the recent attacks across his lands made her think that she might still be near Glenlui and their village of Drumlui.

Fia retrieved the knife and took one of the blankets. If it had taken them two or more days of riding to reach this place, it would take her many more than that to return home. So, she grabbed the skin of ale and the oatcakes she’d not touched. Glancing around, she found a larger sack and emptied it, placing the skin and oatcakes and blanket inside. It would be easier to make her way carrying the one thing. Prepared now, she crept out of the cave and waited until her eyes were accustomed to the brightness.

Any other time she loved a sunny day, but this day a little grey sky and cloudiness might have helped hide her movements. With the sun shining as it was, she would be in plain sight of anyone looking. Fia stayed close to the cave wall and then crept through the bushes, looking and listening for sounds of the others. From the laughter and voices last night, she thought there were four or five men. When the sound of branches crackled behind her, none of that mattered. Only escaping did, so she ran like the devil was on her heels.

‘Bloody hell!’ a man called out loudly. ‘She is gettin’ away again, Iain.’

Fia ran in the opposite direction she’d planned and realised that the path felt somehow familiar to her. That was not possible. She pushed thinking away and simply followed her instincts now.

And those instincts led her to a clearing. The man stalking her was getting closer, she could hear his laboured breathing right behind her. The sight before her forced her to stop and then the shock at what she remembered kept her from moving again. The one chasing her nearly slammed into her back and then grabbed her by the shoulders.

This was the centre of their camp.

Nay, not the outlaws who now stood here, but the Mackintoshes who had sought refuge all those years ago. This was where they’d hidden themselves while their cousin Caelan tried to destroy them all and control the clan. There had been dozens and dozens of men, women and children here, living as they could, keeping their faith in Brodie’s right to inherit and lead them.

She had lived in this very place for almost a year before Brodie succeeded and they returned to Drumlui. Fia knew where this place was.

And now she was back.

In the middle of the band of outlaws who had kidnapped her during their attack.

Six men of various shapes and sizes and temperaments stood before her, all holding some weapon or another. But, those weapons were not the terrifying thing in this situation. Their gazes filled with desire, plain lust and need and danger.

Terror filled her then, sheer, utter terror, making it impossible to draw a breath or think her way out of this. The tight grasping hold on her shoulders would not let her move much until he began shoving her forward, ever closer to the danger before her.

Her fear spurred them on now and they began calling out threats and...promises. She searched for the one who’d helped her before and could not see him. The wind shifted then, bringing the smoke of the fire at her. Her eyes teared and her nose burned at the smell. The villain at her back pushed her closer and now the scent of sweat and dirt reached her.

‘She looks awake and ready now, Iain Dubh,’ the giant man called out. She’d not seen him approach but Iain shoved the man holding her aside and grabbed her by the wrist to hold her there. ‘If ye canna swive her now, I really will need to show ye the right way of it.’

‘I hiv told ye—I amna sharing her,’ he replied. The men hissed and guffawed their disappointment. ‘But,’ he began, turning her to face him, ‘I am no’ opposed to letting her do other things for ye scoundrels.’

Yelling and clapping, the men grew louder and more boisterous over this. Fia stared in horror at Iain Dubh, wondering if he would do this to her.

‘Nay! Nay, do no’ mistake my kindness,’ he called out to them. ‘She can cook for us. ’twould be better than the burnt mess ye call porridge, Martainn!’ he said, meeting her gaze now. ‘Can ye cook, lass?’

Fia did not say a word, fear yet held her in its control. All she could do was give a slight nod in reply.

‘There ye go! Finally, a decent meal is to be had,’ he said. With a grip that did not relent, he tugged her closer. ‘And I would no’ mind if she washed my trews and shirt,’ he said. ‘They are close to standin’ on their own.’ He laughed then and pointed at one of the others. ‘Lundie, will we be here long enough for her to do some laundry?’

‘Aye,’ a tall man off to one side said. She’d seen him before. In the village when Iain Dubh had claimed her. He must be in charge of this ruthless group. ‘A few days.’

‘There ye go, friends,’ Iain Dubh said, smiling at them. ‘Ye can hiv a hot meal in yer bellies and clothes on yer backs that dinna smell as bad as Micheil does.’

The mood of the men had changed from dangerous to something less so. Oh, she did not doubt that any one of them would seize her and do those things they’d said, but, for now, they seemed calmed from their worst. Calmed by Iain Dubh. With only words, he’d eased their demand for her and given them something else to please them. When he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and resting one of his hands on her buttocks, all good thoughts about his abilities and his intention scattered.

‘And when she is tired of cooking and laundry, I wi’ keep her busy with other...chores!’ The men laughed then and Iain leaned his face down to hers. In that last moment, as she planned to bite him again if he tried that disgusting thing with his tongue, he whispered so only she could hear. ‘If ye naysay me, lass, I will give ye over to them.’

Though she expected the kiss, the gentleness of it surprised her. As did the feel of his hand in its intimate caress. Trapped between his strong chest and his embrace, Fia tried not to fight him. His tone gave no indication that he was jesting or did not mean what he’d said.

So, instead, to keep panic away and not struggle in his arms, Fia did what she did when trying to distract herself—she began counting the number of cousins in The Mackintosh Clan. She managed to count the first fifteen, by name and age, before the kiss changed and drew her attention back to him and his mouth. He had slanted his mouth against hers and was rubbing his tongue over her lips.

Mayhap because she’d not been paying attention, it was not as abhorrent as that first time? Now, though, he slid his other hand into her hair, holding her head close as he managed to get his tongue inside her mouth and...taste her! The hand on her bottom caressed her there and pressed her against the obvious hardness in his groin. When she shifted in his embrace, he lifted his head and laughed aloud.

‘I think the lass is interested after all,’ he said so everyone could hear. ‘But, ye hiv a meal to make, love. See to that and then I wi’ see to ye.’

Before she could speak, he spun her around to face the fire and swatted her on her bottom, sending her in that direction. Fia let out a squeak and she stumbled away from him. Making porridge would be easy and preferable to what the scoundrel had planned for her. Gathering the edges of her torn gown, she tightened the belt and linen strips holding it all closed.

‘Where are your supplies?’ she asked, looking at Lundie. He was in charge of this motley group, so she would give him his due.

He led her over to a tarp-covered pile and tugged one edge of it loose. Wooden crates and sacks of all sorts and sizes lay there. Whether bought or stolen, she knew not, but most staples needed to feed the gang were here. And in adequate amounts.

Glancing around, she found a large iron pot that could be used. As she lifted it, she saw and smelled the burned-on layers of many previous uses. As Fia was about to ask if she could take it to the stream and wash it out she realised she held knowledge about this encampment that they most likely did not.

She knew where the stream led. She knew which caves connected. And, she remembered where the secret tunnels were. Brodie had insisted that everyone in their camp—be they man, woman or child—know an escape route from it. Fia did not remember any talk that those pathways had been closed or filled in when they all moved back to Drumlui, so that knowledge could be the means of her escape.

‘Is there a place to wash this out and get water?’ she asked.

‘Aye, down that path, but ’tis a good mile.’

‘Is that where I’m to launder their clothing?’ she asked.

‘Aye.’ Lundie nodded and then whistled. A few seconds later, one of the men broke through the trees and approached. ‘Take her to the stream, Martainn.’

‘Isn’t she Iain Dubh’s?’ he asked, rubbing the back of his hand across his grimy forehead.

‘I did not tell you to swive her at the stream. I said take her there so she can clean that and get water,’ Lundie explained. ‘Only that, do you understand?’

For a moment, it looked as though Martainn would object again, but he held his words behind his teeth. With a nod, he pointed to the path leading off to the left. And down the mountain she knew. Grabbing the pot and an empty bucket, she followed his directions to the stream. Fia could have gotten there faster using a different route or even one of the tunnels, but she kept that knowledge tucked away.

For the first time since this terrifying ordeal had begun, she felt a sense of relief and hope. As long as she was alive, she could escape here. No matter what happened, she could get home.

The walk down took much less time and effort than climbing the steep incline of their path back. In spite of Martainn’s initial reluctance, he was not such a bad overseer. He kept his distance as she knelt at the stream and scrubbed out the pot. He even told her what supplies remained in the boxes and sacks. Clearly, he had tired of being in charge of meals and was glad to pass it over to someone else.

When she’d managed to find a stone with a flat end, Fia used it as a way to scrape the coated grime off the pot’s bottom and sides. She noticed that Martainn’s attention drifted and she used that few moments to clean her hands and face, tighten her garments and remake the braid from which her hair threatened constantly to escape. Once done, she filled both the pot and the bucket with water and stood. To her surprise, Martainn took them from her and motioned for her to go ahead of him. In a short time, they entered the centre of the camp and found the others there waiting.

With no interference other than a few rude comments whenever she bent over, Fia gathered the oats and a few other ingredients and soon had the porridge cooking over the fire. Keeping a close watch on it and adding more water as was needed, it took little time before the smell of it spread through the area. Before she knew it, the men were standing with bowls and spoons in hand, waiting for her to finish.

As she scooped out porridge for each of them, a few whispered words of thanks and Fia found herself surprised by it. Martainn’s was the loudest and she almost laughed at it. After she’d served all of them, Fia moved away from the pot and sat down on a log. No one stopped her or said much for they were too busy filling their bellies. Then a bowl was shoved under her nose and she looked up at Iain Dubh.

‘Ye didna eat, lass,’ he said, holding it before her. She took it with a nod. A spoon followed and her stomach growled loudly enough for him to hear it.

‘In truth, I was not sure there would be enough,’ she said. She only then remembered the sack with the bannocks in it and could not remember where she dropped it.

‘Is it cooked well enough?’ she asked, eating her first spoonful. It was blander than she was accustomed to, preferring to add fresh cream and nuts and even a wee bit of the uisge beatha made by the Mackintosh’s brewers to it at home.

‘Och, aye,’ he said. When she raised her gaze to his, he was staring at her. That bit of amusement glinted in his deep-blue eyes and she waited on the rest. ‘So much so that I canna wait to discover yer other talents.’

His attempt at humour over such a matter soured her stomach and she put the bowl down and looked away. Only Anndra’s approach broke the tension between them.

‘Is there more?’ he asked, holding out his bowl. Fia nodded and rose to give him the rest of it. She scraped the bottom of the pot, filling his bowl as much as she could.

Unwilling to return to the matter between her and Iain, she reached for the bucket of water and added some into the iron cooking pot to loosen the remainder of the porridge so it would not burn on the surface. In spite of trying to ignore him and the looming danger, she was aware of his presence as soon as he approached.

‘I dinna ken yer name, lass. What are ye called?’

She hesitated in answering him. Was she safer as Fia, Lady Arabella’s maid, or as an unknown villager they’d kidnapped? Before she could decide, he nodded.

‘I see then. Keeping yer identity secret? Weel, I wi’ give ye a name so we all ken what to call ye when we need ye. For cooking and cleaning and the like,’ he added with a wink. He stood there with his arms crossed over his chest and his blue eyes gleaming with mischief now. A lock of his black hair fell across his brow, making him look like the scoundrel he was. ‘What do ye think, lads? Is she an Isobel or mayhap a Margaret?’

It brought their attention to her once more, making her very nervous. They stared and studied her for several minutes in silence before Martainn spoke. Fia fought to keep her mouth shut, remembering that silence might be more helpful than speaking out.

‘My auntie Agneis cooked well. Mayhap Agneis?’ he suggested.

‘Yer Aunt Aggie was ugly as sin,’ Anndra called out. ‘This one isna that. Let’s call her... Cora.’

The men all shook their heads and complained about both of those names. Another one, a man with bright red hair and a long beard, one she’d not spoken to, stepped forward. ‘I think Sile is a good name for her.’

Fia watched and listened as they each offered suggestion after suggestion without ever coming close to her true name. ’twas interesting though to watch their manners and hear the comments about the kith or kin with the names they said. And, she learned the names of her captors and began to figure out who led this group and who followed. The years of observing the laird and lady were of some use in assessing people.

Lundie was in charge and everyone followed his orders.

Iain Dubh seemed respected, though begrudgingly, by the rest of the group. Even now he used humour to defuse the tension.

Anndra, Micheil, Martainn, Iain Ruadh and Conall all followed orders. Though there seemed to be a sense of comradery among them, she did not doubt for a moment that they would turn on each other if the right reason came along.

‘So, Iain Dubh, what’s she to be called?’ Micheil called out, clearly tiring of this matter. But, by asking Iain, Micheil confirmed Iain’s claim on her.

Iain seemed to think on it and then smiled. She could not even guess which suggestion he would choose.

‘I think Lundie had the best one. We wi’ call her “Ilysa”.’

The name echoed through the clearing as each man tried it out. Fia noticed it had been Lundie’s second suggestion. A smart decision to use their leader’s choice, she thought.

‘Come, Ilysa. We will stroll down to the stream to clean up the cooking pot.’ The men did not mistake his meaning or his intention.

Nor did she.

’Twas yet early in the day. The weather was clear and warm for a spring morning here. There were hours and hours before night would fall, but Fia doubted that her efforts to protect herself would wait that long. As he lifted the now-cooled pot and held out a hand to her, the very devil sparkled in his eyes. Deciding she must reserve her strength for when the time came, she accepted his hand and walked at his side.

Fia kept thinking about the various paths and hidden places in the camp. The cooking pot might make a fine weapon if she needed it. Then she could hide until these outlaws moved on or help arrived.

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