Chief Murray struck two ineffectual blows at one of the MacKay guards, then directed his horse toward Keegan, attempting to trample him into the ground. Keegan leapt out of the way, then slashed his sword across Murray’s leg. The man yelled out. Blood saturated his trews.
“Bastard!” He turned around, his horse rearing and pawing the air. The more Murray tried to draw the animal under control and head it back toward Keegan, the more unruly it became.
Clearly, the horse was not a trained warhorse, but some fancy expensive breed intended for pleasure riding or racing.
The horse screamed and bolted.
Murray shouted, yanking on the reins. The animal bucked, tossing him into the air. Murray turned a flip and crashed to the ground.
“Saints,” Rebbie muttered. “That must have hurt.”
The old man didn’t move.
Malcolm rode to where he’d landed and swung down. Murray’s other clansmen ran toward him, a few of them falling to their knees around him. Others shouted. One headed back toward the MacKays.
“Halt!” Malcolm yelled, and the man obeyed. ’Twas a good thing or he would’ve been a dead man. All was silent. Still, the old man didn’t move.
Malcolm stood, muttered something to his clansmen, then strode toward Keegan.
“Ready yourselves,” Keegan told those closest to him and gripped his sword tighter.
The man stopped ten paces away. “Chief Murray is dead.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chief Murray is dead. Malcolm, around thirty summers with dark hair and dark eyes, had uttered the words calmly. Keegan had expected a mad attack, but nothing about this man appeared threatening. He had not drawn his sword or any weapon.
Speechless, Keegan eyed him for a few moments. “I’m sorry to hear it,” he finally said, though ’twas a lie.
“I’m not. The man was a monstrous bastard.”
What the devil? Keegan frowned and sent Rebbie an inquiring glance. Had they both heard the same thing? “Are you Chief Murray’s nephew?” Keegan asked.
“Aye. And his heir. I’m Malcolm Murray.” He approached and offered his hand.
Keegan hesitated, wondering if this was a trick. Watching Malcolm closely, he sheathed his broadsword but kept his dirk and targe in his left hand, ready for use.
Keegan shook his hand.
“Are you the one who married Seona?” Malcolm asked, stepping back.
“Aye.”
“I admire you for standing up to him and rescuing Seona. Talia, too. For years, I feared that he would kill them before they ever married and escaped him. We all believe he killed their mother, though there is no proof. I tried to help the girls, but he wouldn’t allow me to live at the castle nor even visit very often. Needless to say, we didn’t get along. Where are the ladies, by the way?” Malcolm asked, glancing around.
Going on gut instinct, he believed Malcolm was telling the truth. “In the cottage.” Keegan motioned with his head.
“I’d like to have a word with them before they go.”
Keegan was again stunned. “You don’t mind if we take them?”
He shook his head. “Whatever they want. They’ve endured years of torture from that brute. They deserve some happiness. If they wish to stay at Gillenmor, they are welcome. Or they can go with you. Since you’ve married Seona, you will be glad to know she has a generous dowry, including land.”
Land? Saints! Keegan was almost afraid to believe ’twas true. Not that the land mattered; all he wanted was Seona. But he had never imagined being a landowner.
“Let’s go talk to them.” He and Malcolm moved toward the cottage. Keegan intended to stay close at hand in the event this was a trick and Malcolm meant the ladies harm. But he didn’t think that was the case.
Boyce stood outside. He banged at the door before Keegan arrived.
Fraser opened it and stepped out, eying Keegan and the newcomer. “Is the fighting over?”
“Aye,” Keegan said. “This is the ladies’ cousin, Malcolm Murray. He wishes to speak to them for a minute.”
Fraser frowned. “Is he trustworthy?”
“I believe he is.”
“Do you think I’m mad enough to try something with all of you so close at hand?” Malcolm raised a brow, appearing almost amused.
Fraser disappeared back inside, then brought Seona and Talia out.
“Malcolm! You are here? I thought you were away in Edinburgh,” Seona said.
“I was, but I returned a week ago.” He took each of their hands, his face solemn. “Pray pardon, ladies, but I have sad news. Your da is dead. His horse bolted and threw him. His head hit a rock.”
Their mouths dropped open. Keegan took Seona’s other hand, hoping to comfort her. But no tears welled in either lady’s eyes. And he could certainly understand that.
“You are chief now,” Talia said to Malcolm.
“Aye.”
“What do you intend to do with us?” Seona watched him warily.
He shrugged. “Allow you to do whatever you wish. You ken I never liked the way your da treated you.”
“In truth?” Seona asked.
“Aye. I understand you’ve already eloped with this unruly MacKay lad.” Malcolm grinned.
“I did.” Seona smiled at Keegan, her face turning pink. And his heart did a wee somersault.
“Well, then, congratulations.” Malcolm kissed both her cheeks.
“And you won’t make me marry that old Comyn chief?” Talia asked, her eyes wide with hope.
Malcolm scowled. “Of course not. I have a better way to deal with that cattle thief than giving him my cousin to abuse.”
Talia threw herself into his arms and hugged him, tears streaming from her eyes. “I thank you, cousin.”
Seona also hugged him. “Aye. Thank you, Malcolm.”
He stood back, grinning. “You are both welcome.”
Although Keegan would have preferred to take Seona toward Dornie immediately, he knew ’twould be best if she said her goodbyes to her clan and they waited until after her father’s funeral. That way, her clan and kin would not question her honor.
After giving the crofter woman all the silver coins he possessed as a reward for her help, Keegan led Seona several feet away to talk in private. “I think we should go back to Gillenmor until after your father’s funeral.”
She nodded, staring down at their linked hands.
“I’m sorry about your father,” he said.
“In one way I am, but in another, I’m not. I’m sad that he never loved us and that he but wanted to use us as pawns to appease his enemies. I’m also sad that he never regretted any of the horrible things he did. But I am glad now that I no longer need his permission to be with you.” Happiness shone in her dark blue eyes.
Keegan grinned. “We can marry in a church now, legal.”
“Aye.”
He leaned forward and kissed her lips. He couldn’t help himself. Several of his clansmen on the hill above yelled out ribald comments.
He pulled back and chuckled at Seona’s red face. “You will have to get used to those rogues.”
***
Two days after Chief Murray’s funeral, Keegan, Seona, Talia, Malcolm, Rebbie, Fraser, Dermott and a couple more slipped off to a small kirk near a neighboring village a few miles away.
In her heart, she was already Keegan’s wife, but ’twas best to also be married by a member of the clergy. She and Keegan wanted their marriage to be legally recognized without question.
The whole Murray clan was not invited. There was unrest among the clansmen because of the former chief’s death, and Malcolm was still reining in the more unruly ones.
But he’d made it clear to her that he wished to see her legally wed before she departed. Her dowry was eight-thousand merks in gold and silver coins, four horses, since Malcolm said he didn’t need all the expensive horses her father had collected. He planned to sell most of them anyway. And a hundred acres of farm land, here, bordering Malcolm’s holdings. There was no castle on it, only a few cottages, but the crops would provide some income.