Highland Redemption: A Duncurra Legacy Novel Read online

  Laird Carr answered. “We have been at the royal court and are returning home to the Highlands. I’m Hugh Carr, Laird of Clan Carr. This is my son, Edward.”

  Edward gave a small bow.

  Laird Carr made no other introductions. “I believe we aren’t far from Ruthven territory. Some of my men will escort ye there while the rest of us bury the dead. Then we’ll continue on our way home.”

  “Thank ye, Laird Carr, I’m in your debt. Please, allow me to offer you the hospitality of Cotharach Castle before you continue your journey.”

  Tomas went rigid. Say, no. Please say no.

  “That’s very kind of ye, Laird Ruthven, but ye should get your daughter home while the moon is bright. There’s still work to be done here.”

  Tomas breathed a sigh of relief.

  Ruthven waved away the objection. “You needn’t worry about these miscreants. I’ll send men back tomorrow with a wagon and have them deliver the bodies to the Lord Sheriff in Perth. We’ll bring their horses with us.”

  Laird Carr looked as if he were about to refuse again, when the lass added her voice. “Please, Laird Carr, it is the very least we can do. Allow us to extend our hospitality…even if only for one night.”

  Laird Carr sighed. “Aye. For one night, then. Thank ye.”

  Damnation. Cotharach Castle was the last place on earth Tomas wanted to go, but now there was no avoiding it now. Still, in Laird Carr’s defense, Tomas wasn’t sure he could have looked into those beautiful, entreating eyes and said no.

  Ruthven helped his daughter to the carriage, his men tethered the thieves’ horses, and then everyone mounted up.

  Laird Carr sent several of the men-at-arms who accompanied them to ride in front of the carriage with the Ruthven men.

  Then he motioned for Tomas and the remainder of their party to fall in behind the carriage and maneuvered his way close to Tomas. The MacIan guardsman who had accompanied them, his good friend Ethan MacLeod, and one of his father’s captains, Rowan MacKenzie, did the same.

  Laird MacLennan, who hated going to the royal court, had sent his right hand, the captain of his guard, Quinn MacKenzie, to represent him. Quinn and Rowan were brothers. Accompanying Quinn were two MacLennan guardsmen, Kieran and Drew MacBain. The MacBains were cousins of some sort and Drew was perhaps Tomas’s closest friends. They’d trained together under Laird MacLennan. He was well acquainted with Kieran, too. His father was a MacLennan guardsman, and Kieran had trained at Duncurra.

  When they had dropped back far enough so as not to be overheard, Laird Carr addressed Tomas. “I’m assuming ye lied about who ye were because ye recognized him. Is that Lady Katherine’s uncle? The one who traded her hand and money for her title?”

  “Aye, Laird. And who nearly killed her with his whip. You’ve heard the story. I was the stable boy at Cotharach then. Ruthven became furious with me because I tried to tend a horse he’d ridden too hard before cleaning his saddle. He started beating me with his whip and she put herself between us to protect me, so he beat her instead.” Tomas had felt guilty about that his whole life.

  Kieran frowned. “But your back is scarred too. Is he the one who did it?”

  “Aye, on other occasions. He had a foul temper and was quick to use the whip.”

  “By all that’s holy,” swore Rowan, “If yer da were here, Ruthven would be a dead man.”

  “If yer uncle were here, he’d be a dead man,” added Quinn.

  “No, he wouldn’t,” countered Laird Carr. “Because like it or not, had Ruthven not bartered Katherine and her fortune for her title, Niall wouldn’t have her as his wife. Besides, ye know for certain, he wouldn’t have wanted that lass harmed.”

  Tomas couldn’t argue with Laird Carr. Truthfully, for years, Da’s fondest desire, as well as that of Uncle Fingal, and all of the guardsmen who had accompanied them on that trip, had been to extract their pound of flesh from the bastard. Nevertheless, none would ever have acted on it. Everything had worked out for the best in spite of Ambrose Ruthven.

  “So,” added Laird Carr, “Since ye obviously thought it better not to identify yerself as a MacIan, we’ll keep the secret. For that matter, he doesn’t need to know MacLennans ride with us either. They are well-known as yer da’s closest allies. Until we leave Ruthven land, ye’re all my clansmen. See that everyone knows that.”

  “Is there a chance ye’ll be recognized by any of the Ruthven clan members once we reach Cotharach?” asked Ethan, who’d first met Tomas when they were both fourteen.

  Rowan laughed. “Not likely. He was a scrawny wee thing until he was about twelve or thirteen.”

  Tomas chuckled too. “Even then I was all arms and legs and feet. It took a few years to fill out.” But he had filled out. At just under six feet, he wasn’t quite as tall as his adoptive father or uncle, but he was every bit as broad shouldered and strong. “Nay, I have to agree with Rowan, no one is likely to peg me as the stable boy who ran away years ago. I don’t expect anyone even remembers me.”

  Nothing more was said about it as they rode another hour to reach Ruthven’s home.

  The moon was high and, if possible, even brighter as they approached Cotharach’s village. Cotharach, a timber castle surrounded by a spiked wooden palisade, stood on the banks of Loch Abaid. Everything looked smaller than he’d remembered but little had changed.

  By the time they’d ridden through the village, the gates had been opened to them.

  Laird Ruthven alighted from his carriage and called orders to castle servants and stable hands.

  “My men will see to your mounts, Laird Carr.”

  “That’s kind of ye, Laird Ruthven, but there are so many of us, we’ll make quick work of it if we tend our horses ourselves.”

  “Whatever ye wish. This is Manus, my steward,” said Ruthven, indicating an older man standing to one side. “He’ll see that ye have what ye need, then show ye into the hall. My daughter sustained a few minor injuries. I’ll just see to her and join ye shortly.”

  He turned back to the carriage and assisted her out. She clung to her father’s arm and winced as he helped her hobble toward the keep.

  Tomas couldn’t stand to see her in pain. “Excuse me, Laird. I know Lady Vida’s ankle is injured and it’s clearly paining her. I can carry her into the keep, if ye wish.”

  Ambrose beamed at him. “Thank you, Sir Tomas, I would appreciate that.”

  Tomas lifted her into his arms and looked into her eyes. To his relief, the fear he’d seen earlier was gone.

  She smiled at him. “Aye, thank you, Sir Tomas.”

  He followed her father up the stairs to the keep. The doors opened to an entryway from which double doors stood open, revealing the flurry of activity in the great hall. To his surprise, Tomas recognized a few of the people working there. Moyna, who had been in charge of the kitchen when he was a lad, had aged quite a bit but still seemed spry and efficient. She was calling orders, seeing that tables were set up and food laid out.

  A woman about his mother’s age came rushing toward them. It was Emma, the girl who had served as Katherine’s maid, and for a moment Tomas feared she’d recognized him.

  But her attention was solely on Vida. “Oh, my lady, what happened?”

  “It’s a long story, Emma, but I’ll tell you everything later.”

  “Bring her this way,” said Laird Ruthven, heading towards the stairs.

  Tomas followed the Laird and his heart lurched when Ruthven led them to his mother’s old bedchamber. The difference in the room reminded him of just how badly she’d been treated by her uncle. No longer sparsely furnished, now it looked the way a noblewoman’s chamber should look. The threadbare hangings and counterpane had been replaced with elegant silk brocade and velvet. Plush rugs covered the floor. Thick draperies hung over the windows to keep out the chill. A huge wardrobe stood against one wall. Its door was ajar, revealing dozens of beautiful garments.

  “Put her here on the bed,” said Ambrose.

  Tomas
placed her on it gently as Emma propped pillows behind her.

  Vida laid a hand on his arm as he stepped away. “Thank you, Sir Tomas. Thank you for everything.”

  He was momentarily lost in her green eyes. “Ye’re very welcome, my lady. I hope yer ankle is feeling better soon.” He gave a small bow. Then to Laird Ruthven he said, “Please excuse me, Laird. I’ll just go see to my mount now.”

  “Certainly, Sir Tomas. You have my thanks as well.”

  Tomas left the room and fairly ran down the stairs and out of the keep. The sooner he was away from Cotharach, the better. He didn’t like the memories.

  When he reached the stable, most of the men had finished tending their beasts and were ready for a meal and a good night’s sleep. Ethan, Kieran, Drew, and Edward waited for him.

  “So, what’s the whole story?” asked Drew as Tomas removed Duff’s saddle and rubbed the horse down.

  Tomas glanced around to see that no Ruthven servants remained within hearing. “You know I’m adopted. Edward, you might remember when it happened.”

  “I remember when Laird MacIan came back from the lowlands with Lady Katherine. She had a gray mare she called Stormy that he didn’t think was fit for the journey so he gave it to my da, who gave it to my oldest sister. But it was some time after that when we heard they’d adopted ye.”

  “And, I knew the Laird had adopted ye,” said Ethan, “but I’d always assumed ye were a MacIan clansman. I didn’t know ye’d been the stable boy here.”

  Kieran’s jaw dropped.

  Drew laughed. “Ye’re jesting. Ye weren’t really a lowland stable boy.”

  “’Tis no jest. I was. When Laird MacIan arrived here with orders from the king that Lady Katherine should marry him, she told me to take the northwest road from the village and wait there in the trees so I could go with her. She had always been kind to me and her Uncle Ambrose was a cruel bastard. She was worried about what might happen to me when she left.”

  “Well, this is rich,” said Kieran. “That cruel bastard now owes his former stable boy a huge debt.”

  “Perhaps, but I just want to get the hell out of here as soon as the sun’s up. I left this life behind and I want nothing more to do with it.”

  Chapter 2

  This had been the day from hell for Ambrose Ruthven. Had it not been for Laird Carr and his men…he shuddered to think of how much worse it could have been. After Vida was settled, he played host to them until they were bedded down for the night. Then he retreated to his solar and poured himself a glass of whisky.

  He was between the proverbial rock and hard place. When he became Laird Ruthven, he’d owned a fledging shipping business that, from the start, was much more profitable than the Ruthven holding, so that was where he put his time and effort. As long as the land was at least modestly profitable and no one starved, he was happy.

  In the last ten years, his business had burgeoned. The huge guilds that had dominated the shipping industry in northern Europe, known as the Hanseatic League, were in disarray. Outbreaks of the plague in Europe had claimed the lives of a large number of sailors. It opened the door for smaller merchants from England, Scotland, and Ireland to seize a larger portion of the market.

  Thus, the bulk of his shipping business involved trade with northern Europe and the Baltics, along the Hanseatic routes. However, he knew the real wealth came from the Mediterranean. Over the last few years, he’d seen several men turn huge profits sailing to ports in Spain and Italy. However, in the amount of time it took for a single ship to sail to and return from Italy once, the same ship could have made four trips to Baltic ports. On the other hand, the profit from one ship returning from the Mediterranean was ten times what could be earned from trade with northern Europe. As with everything, the greater the profit, the greater the risk. Not only were the voyages longer, they were more dangerous and required a major financial investment up front. It could take anywhere from four to six months for a ship to sail to Genoa and return and even longer for a ship bound to Venice.

  Although worried about the risks, he had toyed with the idea for ages. Finally in late June, he’d made the investment. He had sent one of his ten ships, the Mermaid Queen, to Genoa. Then in July, he sent the Merry Mistress to Venice. It tied up a huge amount of his funds, but he believed it would pay off.

  In fact, he was so confident that when he incurred a large gambling debt to Naughton Lindsay, a younger brother of Laird Lindsay, he’d secured the debt with his Genoa shipment.

  “You know I’m good for it, Naughton. When that ship returns, it’ll bring four times what I owe you, or more.”

  Naughton had agreed. “Yes, I’ve found my Mediterranean-bound ships to be golden. The increased risk is worth the enormous profit. I’m sure you’re good for it. And never fear, if something goes awry, you can give me your daughter’s hand in marriage instead.”

  Everyone at the table that night had laughed about it, including Ambrose. He had no intention of giving Vida in marriage to Naughton Lindsay. Thankfully, it wouldn’t be necessary.

  He incurred the debt because he was certain he could repay it. Just before Michaelmas, Naughton inquired about what Ambrose’s intentions were regarding repayment. Ambrose responded by saying Clan Ruthven was in the midst of the harvest. He would visit his shipping office in Dundee very soon and would know more then.

  That’s where he and Vida had been earlier in the week. Unfortunately, there had been no word of either ship.

  To make matters worse, while in Dundee, Lindsay stopped by to collect his debt. “I thought I’d save you the trouble of seeking me out. I had a ship heading for Genoa that left shortly after yours. Mine returned earlier this week, so surely yours has as well.”

  Ambrose was certain the cur knew the Mermaid Queen, hadn’t returned, but he remained congenial. “Now, Naughton, as you’re aware, we agreed the debt would be paid off by the end of December. I suspect it just took a little longer for my captain to sell his cargo and buy goods. After all, it is his first time to Genoa.”

  But Ambrose was worried. He had the bulk of his money tied up in those shipments. If he dipped into clan funds, he’d probably have enough to pay his debt if it came to that, but doing so might not leave him with enough to keep Clan Ruthven going through the winter. He had left Dundee early this morning, wanting to put this worry behind him. After all, he did have until December and even if something had delayed the Mermaid Queen, there was still the ship bound to Venice, the Merry Mistress.

  Then his carriage had been attacked on the road. Attacks happened from time to time, that’s why noblemen traveled with guards. But when his guards were forced to fight, they made a pitiful showing. If the Highlanders hadn’t arrived when they did, his men would have all been killed.

  And Vida…

  He took a swig of whisky. It was unbearable to think of what might have happened to her. By contrast to the Highlanders—hell, by contrast to the thieves—his men had been an embarrassment.

  Then, as if all of that weren’t enough, when he reached Cotharach he’d learned that there had been another raid on his land. Just one more in a series which his men had been unable to stop. Together with his guards’ poor performance, he could no longer ignore how badly trained his men were in general.

  He sighed, drained his glass, and headed towards his bedchamber, stopping to check on Vida as he went. To his surprise, she was still awake.

  “Papa, you look worried.”

  “I’m just tired, pet.”

  She smiled the smile that never failed to melt his heart. “Papa, I know you’re tired, but you’re worried, too. What’s the matter?”

  Vida ran the household perfectly. She knew every detail of what happened at Cotharach. She also understood much of his shipping business. She was bright and good with numbers. But she didn’t know about his debt to Lindsay, and he had no intention of sharing that with her. Still, he could tell her part of what was on his mind.

  “Vida, my darling, what happened on the
road tonight…I’m sorry, lass.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. And everything ended well. Laird Carr and his men saw to that.”

  “But that’s what I mean. Our men were nearly worthless.”

  Her brows drew together. “Aye, I must admit I expected better. But then I know nothing about your garrison.”

  “I thought you knew everything that went on around here,” he teased.

  She smiled, “Oh, I know all the boring details. How much they eat, for example. But I don’t know anything really important like what skills they have…or lack.”

  He nodded. “Aye. It appears I don’t either. And there was another raid while we were gone.”

  “I heard. Ten sheep and seven head of cattle.”

  “That’s just one more sign my men don’t know what they’re doing.”

  “Honestly, Papa, I thought the same thing.”

  “I just don’t know what to do about it.”

  “Those Highlanders made short work of the thieves.”

  “Aye, they did. But, of course, there were a lot of them.”

  “I know, but Sir Tomas faced one man alone. Like I told you in the carriage, he gave the thief two chances to surrender and when the man refused, well, the fight was over almost before it had started. It happened so fast. I’d never seen a man killed before. I’ve been thinking about it all evening.”

  “Oh, Vida, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s fine, Papa. It’s not the dead man that drew my thoughts. I’ve been thinking about how skilled with a blade Sir Tomas is. And I also was wondering if…maybe…maybe you could talk to Laird Carr. Perhaps he’d allow you to hire Sir Tomas and a few of the others to stay here, even if only for a few months, in order to better train our men.”

  Ambrose thought about that. Ask the Highlanders to stay? He wanted to bring his men’s skill levels up to a reasonable level. Based on what he’d seen and what Vida told him, these men might very well be able to do far better than that. And if his men could learn to fight even half as well…

  “That could be the answer, Vida. If it becomes known that my men are a force to be reckoned with, the raids will stop and the clan will be safer in general.”