The Devil in Plaid(4)

Fiona was surprised when Broden continued to push his captain. “Our lady’s betrothal to Adam MacKenzie is widely known,” the young warrior began. “Surely, the MacLeod is not reckless enough to attack us now that we’ve allied with a clan as mighty as the MacKenzie. Also, the longer our journey, the greater the risk. Yer route will add half a day, and it brings us closer to Craobh Forest, which ye know is full of tinkers this time of year.”

Alasdair frowned. “I am captain. Ye go too far, Broden MacDonnell!”

“Might I settle this?” Fiona interjected, nudging her horse between the fiercely scowling warriors. She smiled warmly at Broden. “I do appreciate yer loyalty and courage, but I learned long ago to heed Alasdair’s advice; however, would ye take lead, Broden?” Her smile deepened. “Ye’ve such keen instincts. I will feel safer seeing ye up ahead of me.”

A hint of crimson colored Broden’s cheeks as he bowed. “Ye honor me, my lady.” He tugged on his reins, bringing his horse around, then wove his way back through their entourage. After Broden was out of ear shot, Alasdair turned and smiled softly at Fiona, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Well done, my lady.”

Fiona dipped her head in modest acknowledgement of his praise.

“Shall we push on for another hour?” he asked.

Fiona nodded. “I cannot wait to be home.”

“I look forward to our return as well, my lady.” Her captain bowed once more. Then he turned his horse about. “Clan MacDonnell,” Alasdair called out, drawing the attention of his men. “We ride for the Urram Hills.”



After nearly an hour passed, the forest road began to climb. At the top of the wooded hill, large jutting rocks cut through the soil, which thinned out the towering Scottish pines, providing Fiona with a view of the Urram Hills in the distance. Cloud shadows moved slowly across the rugged slopes. Despite their steep terrain, Fiona looked forward to the views the hills would provide of the surrounding countryside. The thick, verdant forest, although beautiful, had begun to feel confining, and she longed for space and a refreshing breeze.

“Would ye like to stop and rest a while?” Alasdair called back.

Tempted, Fiona closed her eyes and imagined sitting beneath a shaded tree. For a moment, she had made up her mind to stop for a spell, but then she took a deep breath and pushed her shoulders back. Resting would only delay their return. Before she could give her answer, however, she had to ensure Esme was in agreement. Turning to her maid, she asked, “What say ye?”

Esme strengthened her own posture. “True, lasting comfort will only come when we reach Castle Creagan. Do not ask the men to stop on my account.”

“I agree,” Fiona told her maid. Then she called to Alasdair. “Unless the horses need the rest, carry on.”

“As ye wish, my lady,” the captain replied, but when they descended the other side of the wooded slope, their progress once again slowed.

Brows pinched, Fiona leaned over in her saddle and eyed the mud that oozed beneath her mount’s hooves, becoming thicker with every step they took. Moments later, the men in lead reined in their horses.

“I pray, not another delay,” Esme groaned under her breath for Fiona’s ears alone.

Fiona strained to see beyond the men in front of her, but she may as soon see through a stone wall as the broad shoulders and backs of Highland warriors.

After several minutes, Alasdair came riding toward them. “The road is impassable for the mud. The slides have changed the pitch. ‘Tis too soft and steep for the horses. I fear the passes over the Urram Hills are likely no better.”

Fiona chewed her lip as she considered their options.

“I knew we shouldn’t have made this journey so soon after the storms. Did I not say so, my lady,” Esme tsked, shaking her head.

Fiona nodded, impatiently. “Aye, ye did, but I wanted to spend more time in Adam’s company prior to our marriage, which, if I remind ye, is a mere fortnight from now.”

Alasdair raked his hand through his silver streaked hair. “We’ve no choice, but to take the western road. Blast,” he cursed, but then shot Fiona a look of remorse. “Forgive my outburst, my lady. I do not care to ride so close to MacLeod territory, but I see no other choice.”

A shiver shot up Fiona’s spine as she watched Alasdair direct the warriors to turn back the way they’d come. When their company started to move, Fiona gave her horse a nudge with her heel, then turned to Esme. “Do ye think we’ve made the right choice? I would rather contend with a hundred tinkers than even one MacLeod warrior.”

Esme reached over and patted Fiona’s hand. “Do not fash yerself, my lady. If Alasdair truly believed the western road presented too great a risk, he would have insisted we wait while the men repaired the bridge. Anyway, ‘tis not as if we are cutting through MacLeod territory.” Esme shivered at her own suggestion. “What a nightmare that would be. To think what those black-hearted men would do, if they got their sweaty, filthy paws on us. To be sure, they would have their way with us before they beat the very life from our ravaged bodies.”

“Enough, Esme! Do not speak of such things.” Fiona’s heart pounded at the very idea of being taken and tortured by the cruel Highland clan.

“Forgive me, my lady. I allowed my fear to best me.” Esme straightened her shoulders and gave a determined tilt to her chin. “We’ve nothing to worry about, my lady. So long as we stay on MacDonnell land, we’ll be just fine.”