Marti Talbott's Highlander Series, Volume 4 Read online

  “How can you be so calm? You should be out there looking for her.”

  “Out where? I scoured the land and sent every MacGreagor I could find to Neil. Where do you suggest I look? She could be anywhere.”

  Bethia quickly lowered her head and her voice. He was suffering over the loss of a wife and child, and she should not be shaming him. “I am sorry, you have been through enough and I should not yell at you.”

  He had no idea what she was talking about, but he supposed from a woman’s point of view, being chased by MacDonalds and killing men might seem like going through enough. “I would rather hear about England.”

  She rubbed her forehead, “What would you like to know?”

  What he really wanted to know was how she could have left him without a word, taken a English husband and then kissed him the way she did just now. “Why did you go to England?”

  “I could not ... it was the best thing to do under the circumstances.”

  “What circumstances?”

  She stared at him and then clicked her tongue on the top of her mouth. How could he ask her that? Did he want to see if it still hurt? Did he want to see her cry? “My reasons were personal.”

  “Were you forced to go?” He wished she would say yes and that way he could understand, but he did not get his wish.

  “Nay, I was not forced. Can we talk of something else?” She finished eating her cheese and bread, and then took an apple and bit into it.

  “If you like. Shall I tell you about the nine sisters?” When she nodded, he smiled and got more comfortable. He told her about the sisters and their singing, about finding Walrick and about Walrick’s marriage to Steppen.

  “I am not surprised, Steppen always loved him.”

  “I did not know that and neither did Walrick.”

  “Lads do not often know what is in a lass’ heart, it seems.”

  “Do you mean me?” She didn’t answer, so he tried to think of something else amusing to tell her. He talked about the MacClurgs, the river, the glen and the golden sword.

  It was all very fascinating, but she was hardly listening. How could he be so calm? Even if he did not still love Iona, how could he not be frantic over his daughter? Obviously, there was a lot she did not know about this man.

  “Bethia, why are you crying?”

  She hadn’t realized she was and quickly wiped the tears off her cheek. “I...was just thinking of Greer.”

  “Who is Greer?”

  “She was my only friend in England.” Bethia got to her feet and tossed her apple core away.

  “Do you want me to put the medicine on your back now?”

  “I would like you to find a lass to do it.”

  He got to his feet also. “I would like that too, but we are on Cameron land.”

  “Then perhaps tomorrow you could take me to that village.”

  “You wear a MacGreagor plaid. The Camerons refused to give us sanctuary and ‘tis dangerous here.”

  “Then we could wait for another day.”

  “Bethia, you cry in your sleep and you need the medicine today. Please do not argue with me.”

  “I cry in my sleep?”

  “Unless I hold your hand.” He bent down and grabbed the sack. Then he reached inside and pulled out a small metal canister.

  “You hold my hand while I sleep?”

  “If I do not, you do not let me rest.” He glared at her until she looked away.

  “Is that why you look so tired?”

  He closed his eyes for a moment and then walked around behind her. He set the small metal canister on the ground and moved her hair out of the way. Then he removed the strip of plaid from her shoulder and started to pull her shirt out of the back of her belt. While she kept her front covered, he lifted the back of her shirt and laid it over her shoulders.

  “Is it very bad?”

  “You have two deep cuts. When did this happen?”

  “Three...no four days ago. It should be healed soon.”

  “The lass said the medicine will hurt.” He reached down, picked up the container, opened it and dipped his finger in the yellow salve. “Prepare yourself.”

  She nodded, but when his finger touched the wound, she caught her breath and couldn’t help but arch her back. “Do it quickly.” First, it started to sting and then it burned and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. Then blessedly he was finished and when he lowered her shirt, she walked to a tree and grabbed hold of a branch to steady herself.

  CHAPTER VII

  HE WIPED THE EXCESS salve off his finger with a leaf and closed the container. Then he dropped it back in the sack. It was over. There was nothing else he could do. If it were any other woman, he would comfort her, but after kissing her the way he did and seeing the horror on her face because of it, he doubted she wanted him anywhere near her.

  He could hear her struggling to breathe deep enough and changed his mind. If she hated him for it, then so be it, but he wasn’t about to let her suffer without being there for her to hang on to. He walked to the tree, stood next to her and pried one of her hands away from the branch. Then he lifted her chin and made her look at him. Her eyes were clouded with tears and he wasn’t sure she could focus. “Let me help you.”

  There was no way for him to help her. Her pain was her pain to bear alone. Yet she didn’t have the strength to resist his comfort, so she gave in and rested her forehead on his chest.

  As gently as he could, he took hold of her upper arms and pulled her to him. She did not want to let go of the branch and he knew her pain was still great, so he put her free hand on his chest and let her tightly grip his shirt. Then he urged her other hand away from the branch and placed it on his chest as well.

  She took a deep breath finally, pulled his shirt to her mouth to muffle the sound and cried out. After that, the pain seemed to subside a little. She could feel both of his hands gently holding the back of her head and knew he was softly telling her it would be better soon. She let the tears fall and when the pain seemed bearable finally, she put her cheek on his chest and rested. Little by little, she let go of his shirt and moved away. “Thank you.”

  “More wine will help and then maybe you can sleep.” He helped her sit down and then watched her slump her shoulders. She was exhausted and so was he. He opened the flask, helped her drink and then closed it again. When she reached for his hand, he gave it to her and helped her lay down on her side. Then he stretched out beside her.

  “Will you still hold my hand if I moan in my sleep?”

  “If you will let me?”

  “Thank you. I am so tired.”

  “Sleep Bethia, I will keep you safe.” He watched her close her eyes. Her brow was still wrinkled and he knew she still hurt, but after a while, she managed to go to sleep and the wrinkling disappeared.

  Why did he still love her so? She had the power to hurt him again and he swore he wouldn’t let that happened. Yet here he was lying next to her, ready to give his life to have her in his arms. At some point, a man’s mind had to rule his heart ... but not just now. Just now, all he wanted to do was look at her beauty and remember her forbidden kiss. Was it possible for a woman to love her husband and still kiss another man with that much passion? He hoped not. He hoped she no longer loved anyone but him.

  SHE ONLY SLEPT FOR an hour and it was still light out when she opened her eyes. He was lying on his back next to her, looking up at the sky. Her fist was tightly clenched in the palm of his hand and she realized the cramp in it was what woke her up. She slowly pulled away and began to open and close her hand.

  He turned on his side to watch her. “Go back to sleep if you can.”

  She closed her eyes and tried, but he was so close and the craving to reach out and touch him was overwhelming. She wondered what he would do if she did, but quickly decided not to tempt him. Instead, she started to sit up.

  He was quick to get to his feet, offer his hand and help her. “Do you want more wine?”

  “
In a little while. I want to walk the stiffness out.”

  “There is a meadow not far away.” When she nodded, he led the way through the trees, and after they reached the edge of the meadow, he took out his dagger and marked the tree. He made sure it was safe, noticed his horse had the same idea and then let her walk out into the open. Her shirt was still outside her belt and plaid, but he didn’t care and she did not seem to either.

  He tried to stay close enough in case she stumbled and started to fall, but not so close as to make her uneasy. “Is your back better?”

  “I think so. May I ask a question?”

  “Of course.”

  “Did Laird Ferguson deserve to die?”

  He wondered if she would ask about him and had already decided to tell her the truth if she did. “Did you know him?”

  “Not well. I knew Kenna, naturally.”

  “And Taral?”

  Bethia suddenly stopped walking and turned to him. “Did Taral die in the war?”

  “Nay, she is fine. However, she married a Ferguson and went to live with him. When the war started, she saw Laird Ferguson order the killing of three MacGreagor lads.”

  Bethia bowed her head. “He ordered it? How awful. I would ask the names of the dead, but I am not certain I want to know just yet. How many did we lose in this war?”

  “As near as we can tell, we lost fifty and maybe sixty lads. The people escaped in different directions and after Neil chose a new home, he sent eight of us back to find the lost.”

  “And you found me.”

  “Aye.”

  “Maybe Iona is found then.”

  “I hope so. We might join others who are also on their way to our new home. Look, I will show you. He took her arm and turned her back toward the edge of the meadow. Then he showed her where the MacGreagor plaid was tied. “We put these all along the way so the others can find us. If you and I get separated...”

  “Do not say that.”

  “I will not leave you, but just in case.”

  “Fine.” She headed back into the meadow. The last thing she wanted to think about was being separated from him...not now and not ever. She would think of other things like that butterfly she had her eye on a few minutes before.

  “Bethia, do you know the two lads who followed you?”

  She was happy for the diversion and relaxed. “Aye, you would not like them.”

  “Who are they?”

  “The unsightly one is Baron Giffart. He is a nobleman who claims to have the ear of the King. He is high in society and quite wealthy, or so they say.”

  “Which of the lads do you consider unsightly?”

  She giggled and continued her walk. “Neither is handsome, I grant you. He is the one with dark hair. The baron wants a wife desperately, but no amount of enticement could make any lass marry him. Perhaps if he was a pleasant sort, a lass might overlook his harsh appearance or even suggest ways to soften it.”

  Assured that she was not going to fall, he clasped his hands behind his back. At last, she was talking to him and he wanted to know everything. “Yet this baron is not pleasant?”

  “Not at all. He enjoys insults and cares not at whom he hurls them. He fancies himself witty.”

  “Did he insult you?”

  She quickly studied his eyes and wondered just how much she could tell him without exciting his rage. “Not so very insulting. He remarked that he found more cleverness in a goat than in me.” She saw Hannish tighten his jaw and quickly went on. “I then suggested I would be happy to find a goat for him to dine with.”

  Hannish relaxed and smiled. “And did the Baron find himself insulted?”

  “He said I was being unkind, to which I explained he had not yet seen unkindness, and I left the table. However, my aunt found my behavior appalling and begged me to come back, which of course I did. I apologized for being rude, but he did not do the same and that made me furious.”

  “What did you do?”

  At this point, she had to be very careful. She knew Hannish was trying to get her to say it was Baron Giffart who beat her. “I might have retaliated, but there was that other matter to attend to.”

  “What other matter?”

  CHAPTER VIII

  BETHIA TOOK A DEEP breath and slowly let it out. “Her name is Luella and she is my cousin. At first I liked her, but I soon learned her true nature.”

  “Which is?”

  “Hum, let me see. The English word for ‘tis wicked and I suppose in Scotland they call it evil. Aye, evil will do nicely. However, her evil is difficult to discern. She tells just enough truth to make you believe her lie.”

  He wrinkled his brow. “I do not understand.”

  “Well, when the necklace went missing, dear cousin Luella said she stole it, and then giggled to make the Baron think she didn’t. She did of course, and she hid it among Greer’s things.”

  “And Greer is your friend.”

  “Aye, she is a servant and I would have been lost without her. I happened to see Luella put the necklace in Greer’s box and I removed it. Yet the...”

  “You took it to keep the servant from being blamed?”

  “They would have beaten her, and maybe killed her, if they found such a valuable necklace in her possession. She was very good to me and I could not let that happen. I had only just gotten away when Luella found me and grabbed the necklace out of my hand. She told them she caught me in the act. I am fortunate not to be in an English dungeon.”

  “She told whom?”

  Bethia took a deep breath, stopped and turned to Hannish. “It does not matter who beat me. The only thing I regret is that I could not bring Greer with me. She is a good lass, she would make a good wife for a MacGreagor and I miss her.”

  “Why could you not bring her?”

  “I...” At the sound of three short whistles, Hannish spun around to look.

  Behind him, Brendan MacGreagor walked his horse into the meadow. Hannish grinned, but when the man slipped off his horse, recognized Bethia and went to hug her, Hannish quickly moved to stand in front of her. “Do not touch her, she is hurt.”

  Brendan quickly stopped and waited for Hannish to explain. “Someone beat her with a leather strap. Her back is cut.”

  Brendan angrily spit on the ground. “I will kill the bastard.”

  “I will help you, but first we must get her to say who did it.”

  Bethia peeked around Hannish, stepped forward, took one of Brendan’s hands and gently put her cheek to his. “I am so happy to see you.”

  “And I you.” He smiled, squeezed her hand and turned his attention to Hannish, “Can she travel?”

  “She has managed for four days but tonight she needs to rest.”

  It was glorious having two men fuss over her. They made her sit while they built a fire, cooked some food and made sure she had enough to eat. The warm fire felt wonderful and the wine helped her pain. The wine also loosened her tongue and the men were intensely interested in what she had to say.

  “Bethia.”

  “What?”

  “You were telling me about the necklace,” said Hannish.

  The three of them sat in a semicircle facing the fire with her in the middle and she’d been sipping wine for more than an hour. Mercifully, her pain was dulling. “Well, it belonged to my aunt and she was not yet dead at the time it was stolen. Aunt Beth, whom I am named after, had long since taken to her bed and I am pleased she saw none of their bickering over the necklace. Luella wanted it but James was the only son and he was set to inherit.”

  Bethia paused and looked off into space. “I suppose James does not need to marry a lass for her wealth now. How very fortunate for the lass. I do not think he killed his mother to inherit, but he was not having a great deal of luck with the lasses, so he might have. You know, I never considered that before.”

  Hannish was puzzled. She had not yet mentioned a third man, and there must have been. The way she talked, she was not married to either James or the Baron
. He offered her the wine flask and helped her drink. “Bethia.”

  “What?”

  “It takes two lads to beat a lass; one to hold her and one to do the beating. Did James do the beating?”

  “I thought you wanted to hear about the necklace.”

  He smiled. Her words were beginning to slur a little, but she was not yet that drunk and he misjudged. “Please continue. You were telling us about your cousin, James.”

  “I should not have gone to England, it was a mistake. I should have just suffered in silence here.” Before he could ask what she meant, she went on. “I did steal the horse. I had no choice really, it was that or walk. When I first arrived in England, James promptly sold my horse. He said that men own everything and what a lass wants is unimportant. I disagreed and took his horse in payment for the one he sold.

  It was not as though the family fortune depends on a stupid horse and a jeweled necklace. They own a vast amount of land and holdings. Yet James prefers that horse and put a mark in his horseshoes. I should not have forgotten about that. Do you think they can follow us still?”

  “They have the horse now, remember?”

  Bethia smiled. “They do indeed, but not the necklace. I did not steal it the first time, but the second time I did. I believed it would land right back in Greer’s box if I did not take it. Did I tell you about Greer? Of course I did. Brendan would like her very much. She is...have you taken a wife, Brendan?”

  “Nay, Bethia.”

  “Then I choose Greer for you. I did promise to go back for her and now that there are two of you, we could do it, could we not?”

  Hannish frowned, “It means several more days of travel for you.”

  “Aye, but travel to get Greer would be a pleasure no matter the pain. I would very much love having her with us. She deserves happiness more than anyone I know and she needs a MacGreagor husband who will truly love her.”

  “We could go get Greer and then let Bethia rest a few days once we are well hidden,” said Brendan. “Perhaps by then she will be healed.”

  Hannish picked up a stick and began to aimlessly draw circles in the dirt. He was terrified of her answer, but he had to know. “Is James your husband?”