by Rue Chapman
The coach rocked wildly from side to side as it hit a particularly deep hole in the road. Della crawled back onto the seat and glared at her cousin. "Maggie, I told you this was a mistake. Father said we must take the coast road."
Maggie laughed as she bounced on the seat. "But this inland road is much shorter. We'll be home in time to get our hair done extra nicely for tonight's ball. It was your idea to go to the shrine."
Della blushed. "Well 'tis supposed to be good luck for brides to visit."
"As if you need luck! You've got the kindest, sweetest, most handsome man in the district making cow-eyes at you, and you want more?"
"Oh Maggie, he is wonderful, isn't he? I just hope you meet someone as nice."
"I'll be on the lookout tonight. I promise I'll meet someone special before the ball's over."
Della glanced out the window. "If we get there in time. 'Tis getting dark."
"Well, you were the one who wanted to pick all those flowers." Maggie grimaced as another large pothole almost bounced her onto the floor.
"I wanted an offering."
"I think the offering's supposed to be smaller than the shrine - oooff!" This time the coach came to a dead stop, the two girls falling to the floor together in a tangle of skirts and petticoats.
Della's father was Lord Malcolm Kincannon, one of the most powerful lairds in the region. He'd named his beloved daughter after his mother, a woman of great charm and wisdom called Magdelena. A few years later his sister and her husband died of the fever, and his young niece came to live at Kincannon Castle. She had also been named for Magdelena. Two cousins, two little Magdelenas. Lord Malcolm's daughter became Della, his niece became Maggie. Della was like moonlight with ash-blonde hair, soft blue eyes and a gentle nature that nevertheless hid a stubborn streak. Maggie was sunlight, with her bright golden hair, steady green eyes, quick laugh and explosive temper. The two girls were closer than most sisters, and had spent years getting each other into - and out of - trouble.
And then Bryan, youngest son of another local lord, came home after five years adventuring at sea. Maggie swore she heard the sound of bells when Della and Bryan met for the first time. Both fathers were delighted to ally two such noble families, and the wedding festivities began. Tonight was a ball for all the local notables, then there were three days of relative peace before the wedding itself.
Maggie grabbed for the door and half fell onto the road. "Donal, what's the matter now? Please don't say we've broken a wheel." She looked down as she righted herself. The wheels on this side showed no problems. As she looked up she realised they weren't alone.
Two men on horseback flanked them, each holding to Donal's throat a sword gleaming in the dying light. And as she looked around a third man dismounted, then advanced on the coach.
Maggie pulled herself up to her full height, a not-so-impressive 5'3". She felt a chill run through her, but stuck out her chin and said calmly, "You've made a mistake, my man. This is Lord Malcolm's coach. Now allow us to pass."
It had to be a man. Bears don't wear swordbelts. He was huge, tall and broad, his long dark hair falling loose. He had a well-worn kilt, coarse shirt and some kind of animal skin thrown around his shoulders. It was some time since he'd shaved. Maggie glared at him. "Lord Malcolm's word runs here. Leave us be."
Maggie could hear a whisper like silk as he slowly drew his sword, then watched the point as the blade moved towards her. "My word runs here, little lady, and you go nowhere."
Behind her Maggie could hear Della's terrified gasp from inside the coach as the sword came closer. Both girls froze, unable to move. "Lord Malcolm does not allow such as you on his land. Now allow us to pass and we'll say no more of it."
"But this isn't Lord Malcolm's land, my lady. 'Tis mine. Your coachman must have taken the wrong road in the dusk. Here my word runs. And my word only."
Maggie felt a sick fear now; she knew who this must be. Sir Declan Ross. His lands touched Lord Malcolm's, which was why - she remembered too late - they were to stay on the safe coast road. By reputation he was a hard man, fierce in battle, unforgiving, not to be crossed. Alone of all the surrounding gentry he was the only one not invited to the wedding celebrations. His family had feuded with the Kincannons for four generations. And now Maggie faced him on the road. She was thankful for her long skirts; he couldn't see her knees knocking together.
Maggie kept her voice steady. "Well my lord, my apologies for our unwitting trespass. We will return to our road and be on our way."
His mouth smiled, but his grey eyes stayed cold. "Not just yet, my lady. I understand there is a wedding to be held soon."
"Aye, my lord." Wary now.
"This is Lord Malcolm's coach, so you would be Lady Magdelena?"
Maggie nodded. No need to tell this brute there were two Lady Magdelenas.
"I'm afraid you'll be late for your wedding, my lady. I must offer you my hospitality for a time."
Maggie gasped. "How dare you! I - " She felt the tip of his sword press gently against her throat. Her mouth suddenly dry, she swallowed but went on, "No true lord would threaten a defenceless woman so."
"Nay, lass, you'll not be hurt. If you behave. But..." He looked towards Donal, sword hanging uselessly from his belt, two others at his throat. They'd taken him too quickly, coming silently out of the shadows.
"You'd not - "
"Give me no call to do so." Maggie froze as if turned to stone. "Now you'll just come on a pleasant visit to my humble home for a time. No call for any unpleasantness. My lady?"
Maggie's mind whirled. She could hear Della start to speak, and rushed in. "Allow me a moment to speak to my maid."
The sword withdrew; he nodded slightly. Maggie turned and scrambled into the coach.
"Maggie! Are you gone insane!" Della hissed at her, almost crying as she grasped for her cousin.
Maggie gripped her cousin's hands and whispered, "Della, listen. We have little time. He thinks I'm you. He just wants to cause trouble; he'll not harm me. He'll maybe demand a ransom from your father. Well, he's not going to win this one! You go on home, and tell them what's happened. Let him preen himself for a while, send messengers back and forth, while you get married as planned. When he knows he's been tricked he'll have to send me home. A niece isn't worth the ransom of a daughter. Who knows, I might even escape!"
"No! I can't let you do this!"
Suddenly the monster loomed close. "Hurry up now, my lady. What's the whispering?"
"My maid doesn't want to leave me."
"We can take her too, if you wish."
"Nay, I'll not subject the girl to that." Maggie kissed Della's cold cheek. "Tell them what's happened. Don't worry for me." She pushed Della away and sprang down onto the road.
Sir Declan motioned; his men stood back. "Stay on this road to the next fork, then take the left."
Maggie nodded to a worried Donal, and then watched as the coach rolled away, Della leaning from the window until she disappeared into the gloom. For a moment all was silent.
"Now, my lady, we weren't expecting a catch such as you on our hunting party, so I regret you'll find it rough going."
Maggie glared at him. "I doubt you have a care for my comfort, sir."
She heard the hiss of three swords being sheathed, then her captor turned and mounted his horse. They'd indeed had a successful hunt. Each man had game tied on behind his saddle. For a moment Maggie wondered if she was to walk to the castle. Then as he rode past, Sir Declan leant down and scooped her effortlessly up in front of him.
Maggie gasped in shock. She'd never been held like this, and by a stranger - she could feel his body behind her, his arm circled her body. Instinctively she began to struggle, kicking the horse in her panic. Startled, it reared up as Maggie twisted and struck out at her captor. She slipped from his grasp as he fought to control his horse. Maggie hit the road running and dived for the cover of the nearby trees, but a horseman herded her back. She spun but another was behind her. They boxed her in, effortlessly herding her along.
In moments Sir Declan had the horse under control and reached for Maggie again, but this time she found herself face down. Maggie began to struggle again. A large hand slapped hard on her rump. She gave a very unladylike squawk. "Settle yourself, my lady, or you'll not enjoy sitting for a few days." The hand descended a few more times. There was no sting through her skirts and petticoats, but the indignity of it infuriated her.
"You beast! No true knight would treat a lady so!"
"I've known quite a few ladies who'd be the better for a regular warming. Now settle yourself or I'll play this tune all the way home!" A particularly hard spank fell. Maggie jerked but stayed quiet. "That's better. Now if you're a good girl I may let you up in a while."
They rode on, Maggie trying to make plans for escape, to take her mind off her position.
After half an hour, Sir Declan reined in and turned his captive the right way up. Maggie leaned back against him for a moment, too dizzy to struggle. Without a word they continued on their way.
Maggie could feel the hard muscles of him against her back. She tried to sit forward to avoid his touch, but one steel-strong arm circled her and pulled her tight against him. "Keep still, or you'll be studying the ground again." Maggie gasped in outrage but didn't move.
Declan rode home, his thoughts whirling. They'd found the coach by chance, and he'd taken the opportunity without thinking. He tried to avoid catching Alec's eye. he knew the boy was trying hard not to laugh out loud at his big brother's predicament. On the other side, his cousin Dougal was grave, looking to the pitfalls ahead. Declan had heard that Lord Malcolm's daughter was to be wed. Just for a moment the thought of causing mischief had been irresistible, possibly helped by the wee dram or five they'd taken to celebrate the success of their hunting.
And the girl - he'd heard tell she was blonde and pretty. Normally he preferred them dark; blondes seemed to him insipid, but this one blazed like a fire. And when she stood so straight before him, refusing to show fear, my God he'd held a sword to her throat - he'd held a sword to a woman - and she'd not shown a flicker of fear. And now her body lay against him; he could feel her heart beating.
What the hell was he going to do with her?
Maggie woke and stretched. She wasn't in the room she shared with Della - then the memory of last night rushed back.
She'd almost fallen asleep before they reached the castle. Maggie blinked as they rode from the darkness into the castle courtyard. Torches burned brightly in sconces on every wall, and the place seemed alive with bustle. Grooms, maids and guards all seemed to come from nowhere to greet the hunting party.
"Dougal, at last! Three days you said, and 'tis gone five." A woman heavy with child made for the horseman on the right, scolding him and hugging him at the same time. The dour Dougal's face lit up as he held her to him.
"Hey, Bethann, we've had an excellent hunt!" Maggie watched the younger man dismount and hug Dougal's wife. "Wait till you see our catch!"
"Get off with you, Alec." She smiled. "I suppose we'll be dressing game for days."
"This one's already dressed, but maybe Declan has other ideas." All eyes turned to Declan as he dismounted and set Maggie on her feet. She flushed slightly and stepped away from him quickly.
Alec laughed. "This, Bethan, is Lady Magdelena Kincannon, soon to marry Bryan MacFarlane. Or maybe not. It seems we've entered the kidnapping business."
"Alec!" Alec fell silent as he met Declan's level stare. Declan turned to Bethan. "The lady needs a place to sleep tonight. Can you see to it, please?" He turned to the waiting servants. "Take the game to the kitchens, and see to the horses. And double the guard tonight." He strode off towards the Great Hall as everyone jumped to obey.
And now she was alone. She wasn't accustomed to having such a large empty room all to herself. She could hear no sounds, but the castle walls were thick. Maggie hurried to the narrow window. The sunlight had the thin paleness of early morning. Perhaps escape would be easy after all. She hurried into her clothes and carefully opened the door.
"Ho, there! I thought you'd fancy a guide until you know the place better." The young one - Alec - sprang to his feet as she stepped into the passageway. So much for early escape. He was clean and freshly-shaved now, the grime of his five-day hunting trip washed away. He looked to be only a few years older than her twenty, his hair almost as bright as her own, his eyes a clear grey.
Alec led her through the Great Hall to a smaller side room where food was laid out for them to break their fast. Maggie ate well; she'd need the strength for her escape. Then she was taken on 'a grand tour of this heap of stone' as he called it. Alec was an easy companion; he reminded her of a half-grown pup, so eager to please and full of energy. They finished in the Great Hall, looking at a series of portraits. Alec waved at one, a large dark-visaged warrior. "And he's the one that started all this trouble. My great-grandfather. Well, didn't start it exactly, but he was one of those who called the feud."
Maggie studied the scowling face. "He has the look of your brother."
Alec laughed. "Don't tell him that. The Ross himself that is, a good warrior, but a cold, hard man by all accounts."
"Exactly like your brother, then."
Alec looked concerned. "Nay, lass, you've got him wrong. Declan just acts before he thinks sometimes. He's got a touch of the family temper, but he has a good heart with it."
"You'll pardon me if my opinion differs; my experience of him tells me otherwise."
Alec laughed and hugged her. "Now don't you worry yourself lass. He'll get us through this all right; he always does."
"Perhaps you'd be good enough to unhand our guest, Alec. I gave her my word she'd not be molested while in our care." Maggie jumped as Declan Ross came towards them, looking for all the world as if the portrait in front of her had sprung to life.
Alec laughed and gave her one last comforting squeeze before he stepped back. "Just showing her our short-tempered ancestor, brother. 'Tis lucky he's not alive today. Just think of the havoc he'd cause. As I recall, our troubles all began with a woman." He looked at Maggie. "Know you the story, lass?"
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