“Ye can no’ wait that long.”
That determined comment drew his gaze around and he saw that their brother-in-law was returning. Mouth thinning, Niels said, “We have a delivery to make, Greer. The McKays are expecting their woven cloth by the end of the week. We can no’ just—”
“I’ll have six o’ me men make the delivery in yer stead,” Greer said firmly. “But ye ha’e to head to Drummond straightaway else Saidh’ll insist on going herself.”
Niels pursed his lips as he considered the offer and then countered, “Twelve men.”
“Twelve?” Greer scowled at the suggestion. “There were only going to be the three o’ ye seeing it there yerselves.”
“Aye, but ’tis expensive cloth, and one Buchanan is worth four o’ yer average warrior,” he pointed out. “O’ course, if ye want to travel with them, then ye can get away with eight and yerself.”
Somewhat mollified by the implication that he was as good a warrior as his brothers-in-law, Greer sighed and then nodded. “All right. Twelve warriors will escort the woven cloth to McKay.”
Niels smiled slowly. He’d just traded a long, uncomfortable two-week journey to McKay and back, for a much quicker two-day jaunt to Drummond. Life was good when the heavens smiled on you like this.
Chapter 1
“Bloody hell! Open the damned gate and let us see Lady Edith, ye whoremonger, or we’ll set it alight and smash it down ourselves.”
Alick’s threat made Niels shake his head, because threats were all they were. Setting fire to the Drummond gates and smashing them down was the last thing they were going to do. Hell, with just the four of them there, he wasn’t sure they even could. Though it would be fun trying, he acknowledged.
Still, they weren’t here to start a war with the Drummonds. Their only task was to check on their sister’s friend and report back to Saidh on how she fared. Unfortunately, nothing short of their actually seeing the lass was likely to keep Saidh from insisting on trying to ride out there to see her for herself. And he suspected even that wouldn’t be enough. Once they’d agreed to come, she’d insisted on accompanying them. Only Rory’s warning that the journey might harm her unborn babes had kept her at home. Well, that and Greer’s threat to tie her to their bed and keep her there under guard until the babes were born if she even tried mounting a horse.
Niels shook his head again at the thought. Babes, as in plural. As in his sister was bearing more than one babe. Rory suspected it was twins. Alick and Geordie were sure it was going to be more and were betting on the size of the litter. Alick was guessing three, Geordie four. Niels thought they were both mad. Women did not have litters of three and four. Twins alone were a rarity. Three or four . . . well . . . he’d heard old wives’ tales about some woman way back when, or from a distant land, having three bairns in one birth, but he was sure an old wives’ tale was all it was. Still . . . Saidh was huge enough to be carrying three or four.
Raising his gaze to the men on the gate tower, he shouted out calmly, “We just wish to see yer lady. Our sister, her friend Lady Saidh MacDonnell, is concerned for yer lady’s welfare. If ye do no’ wish to open the gate, then jest have yer lady come to the gate and let us see her so that we can tell our sister she is well and healthy.”
The men on the wall all glanced at each other, and then one said, “I thought it was Lady Edith ye were interested in, no’ our lady?”
“Aye.” Niels frowned. “Is Edith no’ lady here? I understood her mother was dead and she was lady here now.”
“She was,” the man called back, “But Brodie, the youngest son, married and his wife, Lady Victoria is now lady here. And the laird ordered that the gate no’ be opened to anyone until they return.”
Niels’s eyebrows rose at the news. He hadn’t heard of the marriage, and was a bit surprised that the youngest son’s bride would be allowed to step in and replace the daughter of the house as lady. Perhaps had the eldest brother and heir married, his wife as future Lady of Drummond would have stepped in, but the wife of the youngest son?
Still, that wasn’t his issue to deal with here so he merely set that information aside to consider later, and said, “Well, ’tis Lady Edith we are interested in. Saidh has sent three messengers and received no response. She asked us to come and see her to be sure she is well.” He paused a beat and then added, “She felt sure that, Scottish hospitality being what it is, ye’d no’ turn away noblemen as ye have mere messengers.”
The men above them began to argue back and forth. It seemed someone up there felt they should be allowed entrance. Others obviously didn’t agree and he waited patiently as the argument continued. After a moment, however, he repeated, “We need not enter to please our sister. If ye would jest have Lady Edith come to the gate to assure us she is well we could be on our way.”
“She can no’,” the earlier speaker said and then admitted grimly, “She is too weak to make her way to the gate.”
“She’s still ill then?” Rory asked next to him, concern in his voice.
“Verra.” The man sounded weary. “She’s hanging on by a thread and lasted longer than her father and the two older brothers, but she’s no’ long fer this world. A shame too, she’s provin’ herself a fighter. Would have made a good clan leader.”
Niels’s eyes widened at the news that Ronald Drummond and his two elder sons were dead, but supposed it explained how the youngest son’s wife could now act as lady of the castle.
Rory shifted restlessly in the saddle next to him, and Niels glanced over as he pointed out, “Saidh’ll no’ be happy if we leave with no more news than that the woman still ails.”
Nodding, Niels raised his head to call out, “We’ll no’ be leaving here until the lass is either dead or back on her feet. Our sister would accept no less.”
“We’ll tell ye when she dies then,” the voice called back.
Rory muttered under his breath.
Ignoring him, Niels said, “Or ye could let us in. Me brother here is the finest healer in Scotland. He may yet be able to save Lady Edith.”
Silence reigned for a moment and then another hissed argument took place above.
Niels tried to wait patiently, but really, this wasn’t done. He’d barely had the thought when Alick muttered angrily behind him, “This is a farce. A Scot does no’ leave allies standing at the gate like beggars and refuse them entrance.”
“No’ if they want to keep them as allies,” Geordie agreed in a growl.
“Geordie and Alick are right, Niels. This is beyond the pale,” Rory said grimly. “I could be in there right now helping the lass, if they would but—”
Niels raised his hand to silence him and bellowed, “Quit yer bickering up there and use yer heads! Me brother can help her. Do ye care so little fer yer kin? What will yer laird, her brother, think when I tell him ye let her die? And I’ll be sure to tell him too. Now open the damned gates ye lackwitted oafs, or I’ll climb this wall meself, slit yer throats and open it mes—”
Niels paused midthreat as the gate began to rise. Eyebrows lifting, he murmured, “Hmm. Looks like they’re opening the gate.”
“I can no’ imagine why,” Rory muttered, rolling his eyes.
“Must be me natural charm,” Niels said with a shrug, urging his horse forward before the men on the wall could change their minds and lower the gate again.
“Oh aye, for certain. The Buchanan charm wins out every time,” Geordie agreed, following him onto the bridge.
“Brothers,” Rory reprimanded, urging his mount between theirs, “if this is the kind of charm you display on a regular basis on your journeys, ’tis no wonder I’m always having to patch ye up on yer return.”
“Nay, charm’s nothing to do with that,” Niels assured him. “Pity is the reason we return with wounds.”
“Pity?” Rory asked with bewilderment.
“Aye, well we have to let our adversaries get at least a lick or two in, else they’d be demoralized at being bested so roundly,” Niels said reasonably.
“And then there’s you,” Geordie added.
“Me?” Rory asked with dismay. “What have I to do with yer getting wounded in battle?”
“Well, ye need practice in healing, do ye no’? So along with helping our opposition feel less incompetent with sword, we give ye something to do when we return that makes ye feel important. No’ that ye ever thank us fer it,” Geordie added in a grumble.
“Thank ye?” Rory asked with disbelief. “Are ye mad? Ye—surely ye do no’—ye can no’ be serious?”
“Nay,” Niels said with amusement. “But we had ye believing it there fer a minute, did we no’?”
Rory snapped his mouth closed and scowled from one to the other.
“See all the fun ye miss when ye insist on staying at home with yer dusty old books and medicinals rather than travel with us?” Alick said cheerfully, urging his own mount up beside Geordie’s as they started across the bailey.