Enchanted by the Highlander by Cornwall Lecia

Author:Cornwall, Lecia
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2017-11-14T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

Donella MacKenzie, Davy’s widowed mother, and still the lady of Kinfell until her son married, knew precisely what outlaws like Rabbie Bain and his cousin Duncan were capable of. When five MacLeod warriors had arrived at the door in the night, wounded and bloody and looking for the lass they’d been escorting, she’d feared the worst.

And when the battered MacLeods heard the tales of the thieves and murderers who’d been declared outlaws by both the Bains and the MacKenzies, Donella had been hard-pressed to keep the injured men from leaving again to search for their mistress. Davy had agreed to ride out with the one MacLeod still standing to search for any sign of the lass.

Now, with her eyes shaded against the morning sun, Donella stood on the wall of the keep and watched for the return of the search party. She expected the worst—dead and wounded men, beaten prisoners, and a raped and broken lass—if she was still alive at all.

It was a surprise to see that very lass—for it must be she—riding with her kinsman. She was wrapped in a MacLeod plaid with her copper hair flying behind her like a red flag on the morning breeze. She wore a remarkable gown that glowed pink and gold in the sun. Donella noted a blond stranger who wore no plaid at all riding behind the lass as she scanned the men, counted them. She gave thanks that her son and his MacKenzies were all accounted for and unhurt.

She turned to the maidservant who stood beside her. “The lass will need some privacy. Get a chamber ready, Florrie. Prepare a bath, get the hartshorn, and warm up some whisky.”

“No doubt she’ll have a terrible tale to tell,” Florrie said, staring down at the new arrivals for an instant more before turning to do her lady’s bidding.

Donella watched as Davy jostled with the other men to help the MacLeod lass off the back of the garron once they were safe inside the gates. She was a pretty thing, and her gown was a wonder Donella hadn’t seen the like of before. It made her look like a magical creature instead of a woman who’d faced robbers and possibly worse. She could see the marks on her face now, and she wondered if there were injuries the men couldn’t see. Donella hurried down to take charge, in no doubt at all that the lass would need a woman’s care, perhaps healing, and most certainly an understanding shoulder to cry on.

* * *

“Poor wee lamb,” Florrie crooned as she washed Gillian’s back. “It’s fortunate that ye weren’t hurt, or, or—” the middle-aged servant burst into tears that shook her girth.

The girl smiled at Donella. “Thank you for tending to my kinsmen’s injuries.”

“Ye—and they—are most welcome.” Gillian MacLeod was well mannered and as fair as a summer day, but then she’d expect nothing less from the daughter of a great man like Donal MacLeod. “I won’t be easy about the lad with the broken rib for a few days more,” she said.

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