Marti Talbott's Highlander Series, Volume 5 Read online

Page 10


  There was a time when the Camerons and the MacGreagors were close friends, fighting wars side by side and intermarrying, but much had happened since then. The Camerons refused to help when the MacDonalds attacked and the MacGreagors had not forgotten.

  However, to see Camerons here sharpened Neil’s curiosity. He sent four men to escort them up the glen and soon they were in the courtyard where he and Glenna were waiting. Neil searched their faces, but he did not recognize any of them.

  When the man began to dismount, Neil nodded and two MacGreagor men went to help the women down. Then the three strangers stood wordlessly before the laird of the MacGreagor Clan. They were all three young and seemed to be in good condition. In unison, the women curtsied and the man bowed.

  “I am Neil MacGreagor, who might you be?”

  The man wrinkled his brow. “But you do not wear MacGreagor colors.”

  “It is a long story.”

  “I am Thomas and this is my sister Julia. We are the only remaining children of Rachel and Connor Cameron.”

  Neil’s eyes instantly brightened. “Then you are my cousins.”

  “Finally we have found you,” Julia breathed. When Neil opened his arms, she gladly went into them.

  Neil released her and locked forearms with Thomas, “You are more than welcome here.”

  Julia looked more like her father than her mother with blond hair and blue eyes. She was taller than the other woman and she looked exhausted. “It has taken us two very long months to find you.”

  Glenna quickly went to her. “I am Neil’s wife and I have just the thing. We managed to bring a bathing basin with us and a warm bath will comfort you.”

  Julia grinned first at Glenna and then at Neil. “A heated bath? I cannot wait.”

  Neil suspected he already knew, but he had to ask. “Have my aunt and uncle passed?”

  As large in stature as any MacGreagor with his mother’s dark hair and bright blue eyes, Thomas nodded. “We lost them and two brothers in the plague.”

  It was harder to hear than he expected and Neil bowed his head for a moment. Then his smile returned, but when he looked, the second woman was not smiling. “Who might the other lass be?”

  “She is Catlin Cameron. It was her idea to come to you and until today I believed her daft. But we have found you after all.”

  Any other time, Neil would have opened his arms even to a stranger, but something in Catlin’s eyes warned him not to, so he simply nodded. “You are welcome also. My wife adores indulging newcomers. You will have clean clothing, soft beds and more than enough to eat.”

  Glenna led the way inside and Julia and Thomas followed, but Catlin did not. Instead, she stared at Neil. “I would speak to you alone.”

  He nodded and then indicated the path they would take with his outstretched hand. He walked beside the strange woman of few words and no smile, found a deserted place near the river and encouraged her to sit on a large rock. Then he spread his legs, locked his hands behind his back and waited.

  She seemed to struggle with the words and glanced at Neil twice before she decided to continue. He was such a large man, something her mother failed to mention. But he looked kind so perhaps she could trust him. Besides, she really had no other choice. “My mother said if ever I heard a certain name, I should go to you and ask for sanctuary.”

  “What name?”

  “Charlet.”

  Both his eyebrows shot up. “You are Bridget’s daughter?”

  She let out a relieved breath. “Aye, how did you know that?”

  He was confused by her question and carefully examined her eyes to see if the lass was playing some sort of game. Her hair was not the flaming red of her mother’s but the sunlight brought out a considerable amount of it in her auburn curls. However her eyes were the same green as her mother’s and she was as small as he remembered Bridget to be. “You do not know who Charlet is?”

  “Nay, I know only that the king of England has put a bounty on her head. Do you know where she is?”

  “And that is all your mother told you?”

  “She said you could explain it. Can you?”

  “First, tell me what has happened to your parents.”

  “Father and my brothers died in the plague. Mother died trying to give birth and the babe died with her. I have no one left.”

  Neil again lowered his eyes to take in the loss of Bridget and Blair, and then he tried to reassure their daughter. “You have all of us left. Your father was once friend to my father and your mother was once a MacGreagor.” He sat down on the rock beside her and folded his arms. “So many were lost, but I suspected Blair was not alive or he would have yet been laird over the Camerons. I am grieved to hear about your mother.”

  Catlin was too tired for pleasantries and not at all interested in discussing the deaths of her parents. “Who is Charlet?”

  “It is a very long story. We should probably see to your rest first.”

  “Laird MacGreagor, I...”

  “Neil.”

  “Neil, I have come a very long way to hear the answer. Please do not keep me waiting.”

  He again studied the sincerity in her eyes. “Very well, Charlet was your mother.”

  Catlin’s face jutted forward and her mouth fell open.

  CHAPTER II

  HE LET CATLIN ABSORB his words for a moment before he continued. “Your mother took the name Bridget so the English could not find her.”

  “But why?”

  “Because she was once in line to inherit the throne.”

  Catlin’s eyes grew even wider. “Of England?”

  “Aye.” He watched her put her head in her hands and felt sorry for having shocked her. “We too have heard the English are looking for her and wondered where she was. At least now they will not find her.”

  She slowly raised her head and looked at him. “They meant to kill her if they did, am I right?”

  “I believe so. Some in England want your mother to take the throne, but the new king is a jealous lad.” Neil hesitated, but it had to be said. “Catlin, you must not tell anyone.”

  She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I am in danger.”

  “Aye. You are the only remaining child and you inherited her claim to the throne.” His words left her speechless and he could just imagine the thoughts racing through her mind. “You are tired and we have plenty of time to talk. For now, we need to get you out of that Cameron plaid and find the best way to keep you safe. From this day forward, you belong to your mother’s people. You are a MacGreagor and we are proud to claim you.”

  Neil helped her stand up and had she indicated a need, he would have held her and comforted her, but once more he felt Catlin put up some sort of barrier between them. When she was ready, he walked her back to the Keep and then sent her upstairs to Glenna’s warm bath.

  UPSTAIRS, JULIA AND Catlin wanted to know everything that had happened since the war with the MacDonalds, of which they knew relatively little, and Glenna hardly knew where to begin. Then as soon as she began, she could not stop. She told of their escape tunnel, their journey to the new land and what they found when they got there.

  As soon as Julia was bathed and dressed in new MacGreagor plaids with white shirts and a patch of cloth over her shoulder, Glenna called for the men to change the bath water. Then she sat Julia down and began to dry her hair. As they always did, the men carrying water gawked at the two new women and Glenna watched Julia’s face. Julia was going to be fun to watch and one thing was clear—the man who thought to marry Neil’s cousin was in for a rougher time than he knew.

  Then she noticed the look on Catlin’s face. Catlin appeared not to notice the men at all and stiffly held perfectly still—almost as though she feared one of them might try to touch her. Glenna dismissed it as shyness that would be overcome with time. Once the men were gone Catlin relaxed and while she bathed, Glenna went back to brushing Julia’s hair dry and continued with her stories.

  NEIL WAS AL
ONE IN THE Great Hall when Thomas came back from bathing in the loch and changing into a MacGreagor kilt. He dropped the meager sacks the three of them brought with them near a wall, went to enjoy the warmth of the crackling fire for a moment and grinned. “I have much to tell you, cousin.”

  “And I you, but first tell me about Laird Cameron. After the plague, we heard little of your people.”

  Thomas joined Neil at the table and accepted the goblet of wine he handed him. “The Cameron is a ruthless lad. He seized control an hour after Blair died and there were nearly fifty willing to side with him. The rest had not the strength or the desire to fight. Now they regret it, but there is little they can do. He is strong in numbers, giving over unthinkable generosity to keep his lads loyal.”

  “Why did the Camerons stop speaking to us?”

  Thomas shrugged. “Who understands the mind of a daft lad? Laird Cameron spoke an edict not to talk to any of the other clans and we were afraid to betray him. We planned to ask for your help in our fight against him but the MacDonalds attacked you before we could.”

  “Who is we?”

  Thomas paused to take a gulp of wine and let the warmth fill his body. “We numbered only six and twenty, mostly under the age of fifteen when we began to plan. The best of us were far more brave in speech than in actions, I must confess. The plague took seven of us, the months passed, we got older and as I said, we waited too long.”

  “I see. How old are you now?”

  “Seventeen.” Thomas downed the rest of his wine and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Speaking of plagues, I hasten to give you Julia.”

  It made Neil grin, “That bad, is she?”

  “When she is riled, which is often, she breathes fire.”

  “And Catlin, does she breathe fire?”

  “Nay, she does not take after her mother. Now there was a woman who could give you a glimpse into hell and then make you wish you were there. I swear by all that is holy I have never again taken a sweet bread without asking.”

  Neil laughed and was beginning to like this man very much. He reminded him a great deal of Connor. “I missed your parents after they went to live with the Camerons. I confess I did not truly understand their decision.” His mind wandered back to the day Sween threw Rachel, Connor and their small children off MacGreagor land. He would never forget watching them ride up the hill and disappear over the top.

  “Cousin?”

  “Do forgive me, what?”

  “It was my mother who tried to kill Sween.”

  Neil was stunned. “Aunt Rachel did it? She missed and I thought her a better shot than that.” He could not help but chuckle. “You cannot know how much I regretted that missed shot. But I suppose your parents told you about all that.”

  “Every detail. Father often liked to tell how you outwitted your brother’s lads. The older Father got, the more he liked to tell it.”

  “That war seems like a life time ago.” Neil pushed the memories out of his mind and poured more wine into Thomas’ goblet. “We are not without our worries, but we are happy here. There is some measure of relief in living without a wall in which our enemies can trap us.”

  “I suppose so. Tell me, when do you think the lasses will come down?”

  Neil smiled. “I am laird over all but that lass upstairs, whom I call wife. She will bring them down, but in her own good time.”

  “It is just that we have not eaten in three days. I fear Julia and Catlin will ...”

  “Of course.” Neil left the table and started up the stairs just as the women and little Justin were coming down. He smiled, took baby Ceanna out of Glenna’s arms and kissed his wife’s cheek. Then he took his son’s hand. “Our guests have not eaten in three days.”

  “Julia just told me.” Glenna opened the door, nodded to one of the servers and soon two women carried bowls filled with meat and vegetables to the table while another began to fill goblets with wine. “Come sit down,” she told her guests. Glenna seated herself, waited for the others to sit down and then smiled at her husband. “A family at last.” Her smile was returned by all the others and she was delighted. “I was just telling Julia and Catlin all that has happened since...”

  Abruptly, the door opened and Walrick burst in. Behind him came a man with an injured, bleeding arm. “Vallam is hurt and I cannot find Gelson to sew him up.”

  CHAPTER III

  CATLIN COULD NOT BELIEVE her eyes and the injured man looked just as surprised to see her. He wore the same MacGreagor colors she now wore and his injury was her doing. She felt bad for hurting him and got up to take a closer look. She tried not to look into his accusing eyes but one glance confirmed her worse fear—he was furious. The injury was serious, he had blood all over his clothing and he definitely needed her help. “I will sew him, bring him to the table.”

  Thomas got up, hurried to the wall where he left Catlin’s sack, grabbed it and took it to her. “Catlin is the best we have at sewing skin. She is quick and it will hurt less that way.”

  If there was hesitation on Vallam’s part, no one seemed to notice and Catlin was certain she would have. She took hold of his uninjured arm, guided Vallam to the table and then took a seat across from him while Glenna grabbed extra cloths and Neil finished clearing that end of the table.

  Julia was skittish when it came to the sight of blood. Ravenously hungry, she picked up her bowl and went to stand against a far wall. She took a bite, decided it would go down easier if she diverted her eyes completely and turned until her back was to the others.

  Neil gave the baby back to Glenna and grabbed his goblet of wine off the table. He handed it to Vallam and went to get the flask so he could refill it. By then, Walrick was helping wipe the blood away from the wound while Catlin found her needle and thread in her sack.

  He was in a lot of pain but Vallam’s anger far outweighed his suffering and he was happy to have the wine both to calm him and to dull the pain. He drank and then drank again as soon as Neil refilled the goblet, yet he kept one eye on Catlin as she threaded the needle.

  Finally, she looked at him and he was suddenly taken aback. She had the most remarkable green eyes he had ever seen and for a moment, he lost his ire. Then he remembered his anger and renewed his scowl.

  “The wound is not as deep as I feared. Try not to move,” said Catlin.

  He doubted he could move with Walrick holding his wrist down, but he nodded. He prepared himself for the poke of the needle, but it was not too bad and before long she had taken two quick stitches in his forearm, wiped more blood away and started a third.

  Neil watched for a time and then asked the inevitable question, “What happened?”

  But Vallam kept his eyes on Catlin who seemed unwilling to look at him a second time. “I was attacked by three hundred lads and narrowly escaped with my life.”

  Neil exchanged knowing glances with Walrick and when Justin pulled on his kilt, he lifted the boy up so he could watch. For generations when a man got hurt but found the cause embarrassing, he told the same story. He was attacked by three hundred men but managed to escape. “And you did not recognize the clan’s colors?”

  Again, Catlin concentrated on her sewing and again Vallam watched her reaction. “I had not seen those colors before.” Her face was as stoic as any man’s and although he was still furious with her, he admired her lack of emotion.

  “Have you any other injuries?” Catlin asked.

  If anyone had been paying close attention, they might have noticed a slight flicker of rage in his eyes. Now she was toying with him. She knew good and well he had another injury and she knew exactly where. He decided to do a little toying of his own. “I do.”

  “Do you require more stitches?”

  “I cannot be sure.”

  She hesitated, but this man was different from any other she had known. His mind was sharp and he understood what she was doing. Catlin fully expected him to tell Neil the truth and when he did not, her good opinion of him increased. Now she wonder
ed just how far she could go before he lost his temper. To her, it was an important thing to know. “And why is that?”

  “The injury is beneath my kilt and I have not looked. Perhaps you...“ Suddenly Glenna had her hand on his shoulder. Vallam quickly glanced up to see who it was, realized he forgot there were other women in the room, and glanced at Neil to see how much trouble he was in. But both Neil and Walrick were fascinated with the way Catlin was crisscrossing the stitches in his arm.

  Neil watched her take three more stitches and then expertly tie off the thread without getting a drop of blood on her own clothing. “Well done, where did you learned to do that?”

  “My father taught me.” She carefully put away her needle and thread. “The bleeding should stop now.” She reviewed her work for a second more, put her needle and thread away, stood up and went to the wash bowl. As soon as her hands were clean and dry she retook her place at the table and began to eat. “I am starved.”

  Her demeanor implied she had not been affected at all by seeing an injured man and Thomas enjoyed the look of surprise on the faces of the others. “Catlin may look like an angel, but she has a heart as hard as rock and I should know, I have tried to soften it often enough.” He winked at Glenna and went to put Catlin’s sack back where he found it.

  Catlin shrugged and hurried to swallow her bite of food. “I cannot tell you how happy I was when Thomas gave up...at last.”

  Thomas ignored her remark, sat down next to her and grinned at Neil. “She is just a tiny bit useful or else we would not have brought her with us.”

  “I am pleased you did. Not many of us can manage the sewing of flesh.” Neil walked to the far wall and touched Julia’s elbow. “You can look now.”

  She rolled her eyes and followed him back to the table just in time to spot the bloody cloths Walrick was carrying out. Quickly, she turned her eyes away.

  Vallam waited, but still Catlin would not look at him. “I thank you for sewing me,” he managed to mumble. He did not mean a word of it but he knew Neil expected him to say something. Without waiting for her nod, he turned and followed Walrick out.