The Warrior Laird Read Free Page A

Dugan. How can you put any stock—”
    â€œEven before he became ill, old Hamish believed the gold could be found. The Frenchman who gave it to him said the map had been torn into quarters and if the four pieces were put together, the way to the gold would be clear.”
    Lachann rolled his eyes toward the heavy oak beams of the ceiling. “When did he speak to you of this?”
    â€œTwo years ago, when I came home wounded in battle during the uprising. He spoke of it often and spent many a night studying the map.”
    â€œIf he believed so firmly, why did he not go looking for the other parts of the map—or the gold—himself?”
    â€œBecause he only had the one piece of the map. And he could not read any clues from it.”
    â€œWhy didn’t he ask the bloody Frenchman where the other parts were?”
    â€œLachann—”
    â€œYou believe you can find the rest of the map in Kinlochleven? And decipher the clues?”
    Dugan gave a quick nod, though he was not entirely sure of it. All he knew was that he could not think of any other viable possibility for raising the kind of funds Argyll demanded. Three thousand pounds was an astronomical sum, and no cattle raid on earth would garner that much money.
    â€œWell, then,” Lachann said with resignation. “Mayhap a trip to Fort William is in order, eh?”

 
    Chapter 2

    Ilay House. Glasgow, Scotland. Early April 1717.
    A ll was quiet in the richly appointed mansion Maura Duncanson had been forced to call home for the past two interminable years. She slipped out of bed and listened at the door for a few moments, just to be sure.
    Naught. No sounds of movement could be heard.
    Maura crept silently to her dressing table, took a handkerchief from a drawer, then picked up her shawl. Tossing the warm wrapper about her shoulders, she caught a quick glance of her reflection in the mirror.
    Her bright red hair was its usual frantic mess, but at least she appeared calm. Far calmer than she felt after reading the callous missive her father had sent her from the family seat at Aucharnie Castle, many miles away near Edinburgh. The moment she’d been waiting for had arrived.
    She was going to escape her prison and rescue her young and helpless sister.
    She’d tried to leave Ilay House twice before, but had been found out before reaching the city’s edge. And Lady Ilay watched her as though she were the lowest of felons. Guards patrolled the grounds at night and made certain she did not attempt to escape again.
    With one deep breath, Maura left her room and slipped down the long corridor of the mansion. Pausing at the top of the stairs, she listened again for sounds of anyone who might be up and about, which would not be surprising, given that the Duke of Argyll was in residence, visiting his brother, Lord Ilay.
    She had not been invited to sup with the family that evening. The duke and Lord Ilay were her father’s cousins, but Maura was a mere daughter of an earl. And an unfavored daughter, at that. There was no reason on earth for Lord and Lady Ilay to include her in their intimate family gathering.
    It suited her just as well. All through her own solitary supper, Maura’s mind had whirled with plans and schemes. She was not about to travel up to Cromarty as her parents had decreed, to marry the decrepit old baron they’d chosen as her husband. She would cut her own wrists before taking vows with Kildary.
    And it was not only because of his age and his questionable reputation. Maura knew the old man would never allow her to bring her poor wee sister Rosie to Cromarty to live with them. And that was a requirement of any man she wed.
    Not that suitors were lining up to woo her.
    The opposite was true. Any mirror told Maura that she was not unattractive, but she would never become a sophisticated lady like her mother and elder sisters, not when she preferred riding to housekeeping. Not when she was more adept