Page 7 of Seduced By the Reckless Highlanders
Hugh McLean, one of the other men, looked at her admiringly. “It was a fine day ye came tae us, lass,” he said, smiling at her fondly.
All the others joined in, and Keira blushed bright red. For a second, her mind flashed back to that night just after her sixteenth birthday, when she was so downhearted and miserable that she had thought of jumping from the castle turrets and ending her life.
Four years ago…
Her father’s study was the one place in the whole of the castle that was forbidden to everyone except those who were invited or had a very good reason to request an audience with him. Keira had only been in it twice in her life, and both times the reason had been because he wanted to inflict a dire punishment for some minor infraction.
She remembered it as being a creepy place, with dark-paneled walls and deep brown curtains, but what made it the darkest of all was the scowl on her father’s face. He had taken a riding crop to her backside, and she had left weeping both times, but it had stirred up in her a strong determination never to be bested by him again. The second time was when she became his enemy and would be for the rest of her life.
She had been only fourteen then, too young to be taken seriously by anyone, but she had spent much of her time watching and waiting until the time came when she could sneak into his study again.
One day she was descending the stairs just outside the room when she saw her father coming out looking rather preoccupied, so much so that he left the door unlocked behind him. Keira descended the stairs silently, then followed him at a distance for a little way. He had walked down the hallway heading for another staircase that led up to the battlements, and he looked as though he was deep in thought.
“I am going to the topmost tower,” he told the guard. “And I am not to be disturbed unless the castle is burning down. Understand?”
“Aye, sir,” the guard answered with a smart salute. He turned to his friend. “What the hell has got intae him?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” the other man answered. “He got a note a wee while ago wi’ a crest on it, but I didnae see which clan it was.”
“Maybe he’ll fall down,” the first man mused.
“Wishful thinkin’,” his friend replied, before they both burst into a fit of laughter.
Keira stood still for a moment, thinking. Could this be her chance? What would happen if he caught her? She knew that the punishment would be dire, but the opportunity was too good to miss. She walked back toward the office and checked that no one was in the passage or on the stairs, then she quietly opened the door.
She took her father’s office key from the door and made an impression with it in a bar of soft soap before replacing the key in the lock. A few days later, she found a blacksmith who would do the unscrupulous work for her for quite a hefty chunk of her allowance. Now she would be able to go in and out of his office as she pleased.
The first thing she saw was a letter on the desk in her father’s hand. She tiptoed around the desk to read it. It was unfinished, but there was enough there on the page to make the meaning quite clear. It was a letter of extortion from her father toward the laird of the Allen clan. Keira had always had a prodigious memory, and she put it to good use now. She read the document three times over until she remembered it almost word for word, then she rushed up to her bedroom and wrote down everything she could remember.
Armed with this, she was able to alert Laird Allen to her father’s nefarious plan, which failed completely because of her actions. Since then, Laird Allen had become one of her most trusted allies, even though he hated her father.
Shortly afterward, she and Moira were attending a market in the nearby town of Sundra when they were approached by asmall, grey-haired old lady. Despite her obvious age, she had a sweet smile.
“Mistress McTavish, is it no’?” she asked. “Laird McTavish’s wee lassie?”
“That is my name,” Keira answered, a little mystified. “What is yours?”
“Teresa Allen,” the old lady answered. “I am pleased tae meet ye. Ye don’t know me, but ye know my grandson. He was the one that took the message tae Laird Allen. Dinnae worry, this is between ye an’ me. I wanted tae thank ye for what ye did for the Allens. It stopped a war between us an’ the McTavishes, hen, an’ naybody wants a war. You are a brave lass. Come an’ meet my grandson Colm.”
“Thank you,” Keira replied, a little overwhelmed. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere secret,” the old lady whispered.
The “somewhere secret” turned out to be a small cave hidden behind some undergrowth on the outskirts of the village, and that was where she had met all the men who were sitting with her at that moment.
She was jerked back to reality when one of the men, a potter named James McFarlane, clapped his hands in front of her face.
“Ye were miles away, hen,” he observed, laughing.
Keira laughed sheepishly. “I was just thinking about the first time we met,” she confessed.
James laughed. “Aye, there has been much water under the bridge since then.” He sighed sadly. “Old Granny Teresa is gone now, God rest her soul.”
“Aye, she was such a good woman,” all the men agreed, raising their glasses.
“Thank ye for the food, mistress,” Ben Hamilton said, holding up his cup of ale in a toast.
Keira nodded and smiled in acknowledgment, then said, “Tuck in, lads.” The men needed no second bidding and fell on the food as though they were starving, which a few of them were, she reasoned.
