Marti Talbott's Highlander Series, Volume 4 Read online

  Bethia nearly choked. “I would rather marry Baron Giffart and him I would have to kill if he tried to touch me. My cousin James is a wicked man who already buried two wives and is hoping for a third. He marries according to the wealth of his future wife. And at night, he goes from gathering to gathering speculating on how much each unmarried lass has to gain financially from the death of her father or brother. Then he plans his attack accordingly.”

  “Attack?”

  “Aye, for lack of a better word. He swoons her, holds her, kisses her and claims his undying love, hoping she will consent to a marriage. I have seen him do it with four different lasses. Naturally, as soon as one agrees, all her flocks and her lands will belong to him, and he will bed her when he is of a mind, and have nothing more to do with her. The lasses must be on to him for none have agreed.”

  “He does not truly love these lasses?”

  “He does not love at all and neither does his sister, Luella. If they were not brother and sister, they would be a perfect match.”

  Hannish looked thoughtful for a moment. “I have heard there are women who pretend to love, and then leave without a word.” He meant her and waited to see what she would say.

  Bethia had no idea he was talking about her. “True, there are lasses like that. There are also lads who pretend to love and then decide to marry another.” She meant him and waited to see what he would say.

  He continued to draw circles in the dirt with his stick and tried to understand her. She said she was unhappy in England and that she made a mistake by going. There was some comfort in that and she was not married to either of the English men who followed her. Who did she marry and why won’t she tell him who beat her? It must have been her husband and she loves him enough to want to protect him. Hannish could not stop himself from asking, “Do you love the lad who beat you?”

  She stared at him for a long minute. “Nay, he is not the lad I love.”

  “Yet you do love someone.”

  “Aye, but he is lost to me.” She was uncomfortable with his questions and felt she might cry if he continued to ask. “I did like some of the English food and I will be pleased to teach the MacGreagor lasses how to make it. They make sweet bread that is...”

  “I am certain they will be glad for the teaching, but Bethia...”

  “Am I drunk enough yet?”

  “Drunk enough for what?” Hannish asked.

  “To tell you who beat me?”

  “I hope so. If they are not stopped, they will hurt another. You know they will.”

  He was right and she had to think about what she was doing so she did not have to live with any regrets. Except, she wasn’t thinking that clearly at the moment. Bethia tried to concentrate. If she told Hannish the truth, she would be enabling the deaths of two men. On the other hand, to let them live was to be responsible for the injuries and perhaps the death of the next woman they chose to punish.

  Bethia folded her hands in her lap and looked down. “I am so happy to be gone from that place. ‘Tis hard to think about the beating.”

  “Was it James?”

  At length she nodded. “Do you wish to know the details?” She prayed he would say no, but he didn’t and she closed her eyes. “They said ten lashes were usual for stealing, but there were more because the necklace was of such value.” An involuntary tear rolled down her cheek. “James tore down my gown and exposed me. I think that was worse than the beating. I covered myself with my arms, but...”

  Hannish closed his eyes and without thinking, leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “Be still now, you have said enough. Can you sleep?”

  Bethia nodded. “I think I should.”

  He smiled, “I think you should too.”

  “I swear I could sleep for a week.”

  “I would love to let you.”

  She smiled, let him walk her to her bed and then let him help her lie down on her stomach. He sat down beside her, held her hand and soon she was sound asleep.

  BRENDAN WAS STARING into the fire with his jaw clenched when Hannish returned, “No wonder she did not want to tell us. Where do you think they are by now?”

  “Not far. They followed us because of the mark on the horseshoe and we will find them the same way. Then we will go back for Greer, agreed?”

  Brendan smiled. “Do you think Greer will like me?”

  Hannish playfully slapped his friend on the back. “What is there to like?”

  CHAPTER IX

  THE TWO ENGLISHMEN were easy to find. They had gone back to the clearing where they first found the horse, hoping to find the necklace. Frustrated, they threw Bethia’s sack and clothing in the pond, and then when darkness would not allow them more time to look, they made their beds and went to sleep.

  Just an hour after dawn, the two MacGreagor men left Bethia to care for their horses and went in on foot. She never heard a sound and when they came back, they brought three more horses. She did not question him and did not need to know, but when Hannish came to help her mount her horse, he hesitated.

  She swore she would not touch him again, but when he cupped his hand around the back of her head, she put her arms around him without hesitation. Then she put her head on his chest and listened until his heart calmed down.

  He had not meant to touch her, but he could not seem to help himself. If she had resisted, he would have been horrified, but she didn’t resist. Instead, she was giving him exactly what he needed. Still it did not mean anything other than comfort and he cautioned himself to think of it as only that. “I pray no one will ever hurt you again.”

  “You are a good lad, Hannish MacGreagor.” Being in his arms seemed so right and she dreaded having him pull away, but they needed to be gone from there. She waited for him to make a stirrup with his hands and then got on the horse. This time the magnificent golden brown stallion was hers...she had earned him. “I am much better and I do not want Greer to suffer Luella another day. We can go faster.”

  THEY DID GO FASTER, Bethia’s back didn’t hurt as much and none of them said a word until they rested for the night. Then Brendan asked a hundred questions about Greer. It made Bethia smile.

  IT WAS LATE IN THE morning when they arrived and boldly entered the English manor Bethia called home for two years. Already they could hear a woman yelling. “‘Tis Luella,” Bethia whispered. She led the men down the hall to the parlor and then stood aside.

  As was usual for Luella, she was unhappy with the way Greer did the dusting, and her rage made her mousy brown hair come unpinned and fall down in her face. Hannish opened the door, walked in and reached Luella just in time to grab her hand and stop her from slapping Greer. Luella caught her breath and slowly turned to see who had a hold of her. At the sight of the man dressed in a Scottish kilt, her eyes grew wide and she swallowed hard. Little by little, she began to back away. Assured she would not strike the servant, Hannish let go of her arm.

  Brendan started to rush in, but once he saw Greer’s beauty, he stopped. She was tall, wore a shortened pink gown and apron denoting her station as a servant. Her long, slightly tousled blonde hair was most becoming and her soft blue eyes took his breath away. Gathering his wits finally, he went to stand in front of her protectively.

  Bethia walked right past Luella and grabbed Greer’s hand. “Do you still want to go with me?” She smiled at Greer’s eager nod. “Then get your things.”

  Greer grinned, “They have been packed for a week.” She rushed out of the room, down the narrow hall and up the stairs.

  While they waited, Hannish looked around the room. The English sat in tall back chairs the same as the Scottish, but they were not sturdy enough for the Highlander men. The floors were wood, the walls were decorated with paintings and the tables were built too skimpy for his taste. He was immediately disgusted with the place.

  In less than a minute, Greer was back. Yet when Brendan came to her and held out his hand, she backed away. He was truly the biggest man she had ever seen. His blond hair was
tied back, his beard was trimmed and his brown eyes were not threatening, but it was all she owned and she did not trust him. “You’ll not have it, not a bit of it, do you hear?” Her Gaelic was so rusty, he had trouble understanding her.

  “I do not want it, lass, I only mean to carry it for you.”

  Greer took her eyes off the giant and looked at Bethia. Only after her friend nodded did she let him have the bag. “You might have said so.” She turned, walked to Luella and poked her in the chest until Luella backed into a chair and sat down. “What shall we do with you?” she asked in English.

  Luella looked terrified, but managed to muster just enough courage to scold the servant, “I’ll not have you talk to me that way.”

  Greer gritted her teeth. “She’s the one what got you beat, Bethia. Let me slap her just once.”

  Bethia glared at Luella. “Just once? How about the ten times common for stealing?”

  Greer moved her face just a little closer to Luella’s. “And another ten for lying...and another ten for all the times you blamed me for your mischief.”

  Under the threat of being injured, Luella’s rosy cheeks were becoming a dull gray and her eyes were widening. She mustered just enough gall to protest. “You wouldn’t dare hit your mistress. The penalty is death.”

  Bethia put a finger to her lips thoughtfully. “She is right. Besides, the MacGreagors do not hurt lasses—even cruel lasses like this one.”

  Greer looked wounded. “Do you mean to just let her be after all her meanness? There must be something we can do.”

  Hannish did not understand a great deal of English and was beginning to worry about their escape, “We must go.”

  Bethia nodded and turned to Greer. “What does she treasure more than anything else?”

  “The golden goblet her father...” Before she even finished the sentence, Greer was off and running back down the hall and up the stairs.

  “No!” shouted Luella. “You cannot have it, ‘tis mine.”

  Bethia shrugged, “Yet you think nothing of stealing from others. It will be a good lesson.” She watched Greer come back and stuff the goblet into her bag. “Have you any food?” Greer nodded, grabbed Brendan’s hand and headed for the kitchen. “Get her salt, her hair brush and her hand soap too.”

  The Highlander, Luella noticed, was still close enough to grab her. Nevertheless, she narrowed her eyes at Bethia. “James will be furious when he finds what you have done.”

  Bethia couldn’t help but smile as she walked around to the back of Luella’s chair. “James has suffered a slight misfortune. What made him foolishly follow me into Scotland I cannot imagine, but I doubt you will stay up late worrying about a brother you will be pleased to be rid of.” She paused a moment and walked back around to face her cousin. “The sad thing is, James was the only one who could protect you from a contemptible marriage. Who knows what will happen to you now.”

  “James is...”

  Bethia nodded. “‘Tis hard to say who killed him, it could have been any clan. The MacGreagors found a new home while I was away and the MacDonalds took over their old one. Therefore, James ventured onto MacDonald land.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “The Baron mentioned it, although he hardly spent a moment making his report to me in his haste to get back to England. I am surprised he is not yet here. Perhaps he was so frightened, he fled to his own home where he now hides under his bed.”

  Bethia was about to leave when she turned to say one more thing. “As I recall, the Baron has repeatedly asked for your hand in marriage. What an undesirable lad, I shudder to think of any lass taking to his bed. Pity James is no longer here to prevent such a marriage.” She smiled at Luella’s dread filled expression and left the room.

  Outside, Brendan and Greer were already mounted and three bags were tied to the back of the extra horse. Hannish helped Bethia mount, got on his horse and led them out the gate. At full speed, they raced their horses away, but instead of going straight north, Hannish turned them back toward Cameron land.

  He was worried about Bethia’s injuries and feared Luella might send an English guard to chase them. After a time, he relaxed a little. No one was following and Bethia seemed to be holding up fine. Even so, after a couple of hours, he found a stream and halted to rest the horses.

  Greer was so excited she started to pace beside the stream and could hardly contain herself. “I cannot believe I am free. Who is this lad and why does he stare at me? Can I truly marry anyone I want? Will I be...”

  Bethia laughed. “The lad is Brendan and he stares at your beauty. The other lad is Hannish.”

  “The one you ...”

  Bethia quickly interrupted her and spoke in English. “Please do not say anything about what I told you, I do not want him to know of my suffering.”

  “As you wish. Tell this...Brendan person to stop staring at me.”

  “Tell him yourself, you need to practice your Gaelic anyway.”

  Undaunted, Greer walked up to Brendan and poked him in the chest. In her best Gaelic, she meant to threaten him with death if he didn’t stop staring at her. She got the words all messed up and promised to be with him until death instead. When he smiled, she wrinkled her brow. “What is wrong with him, Bethia, is he daft?”

  Bethia quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her away. “He will be now. You just promised to marry him.”

  Greer put her hands on her hips, “What? Impossible. Please tell him to wipe that silly grin off his face.”

  Bethia put her hands on her hips too. “You tell him. You cannot do any more harm than you already have.”

  Timidly, Greer turned and walked back to Brendan. “I made an error.”

  “He does not speak English.”

  Greer began to wring her hands. “Can you not interpret?”

  “Brendan, she did not mean it, her Gaelic is confused.”

  His silly grin turned to mock sorrow. “She does not love me?”

  Greer understood that, rolled her eyes, dropped her hands and walked away. “I may regret wanting to become a MacGreagor someday. In fact, I may regret it already.”

  CHAPTER X

  IT WAS GOOD TO HAVE another woman along and that evening Greer dipped a cloth into the water, and carefully cleaned Bethia’s sore back. She decided Bethia did not need more of that painful medicine and everyone breathed easier. Yet they were all the way across Cameron land before they actually relaxed. Just as the men promised, they found a loch, made camp and planned to stay for a few days to let Bethia and the horses rest.

  Pampering was exactly what the women needed and they took their time bathing while the men stood guard. Greer was nervous at first, but Bethia promised they would not shame their laird by looking, unless the women were in danger, and Greer finally relaxed and enjoyed herself.

  After they dressed, both women moved close to the fire to dry their hair. They kept their backs to the loch so the men could take turns bathing. “You must not speak English anymore. Few MacGreagors know it and you need to practice your Gaelic, before you become betrothed to more than one lad.”

  “I am not betrothed now.”

  “As you wish. You could do worse than Brendan. He is a good lad.”

  “I want to be in love.”

  Bethia changed from brushing the right side of her hair, with her cousin’s brush, to the left. “Love is not always kind.”

  “Perhaps, but ‘tis blind. You must be blind if you cannot see how much Hannish still loves you.”

  Bethia quickly clamped a hand over her friend’s mouth and then slowly removed it. “On this one occasion only we will speak English. Hannish has a wife and a daughter, but he does not know where they are. What you see in his eyes is...”

  “‘Tis love and not for a wife he cannot find. He loves you.”

  “Do not say such a thing. ‘Tis wrong for a lad to love a lass who is not his wife.”

  When Brendan came back and sat down, Bethia quickly changed the subject. “Is Ha
nnish finished?”

  “He is dressing. Do you need something?” He could not take his eyes off of Greer as she brushed her hair. At least she had not noticed and wasn’t giving him that annoyed look.

  “Nay, I just wondered.” Bethia was trying desperately to think of a way to start a conversation between the two of them.”

  Hannish finished dressing, put another log on the fire and then sat down on the other side of Greer. “Have you ever been to Scotland?”

  “Nay, have you been to England?”

  “Not before a few days ago. I did not like it.”

  Greer smiled. “I do not like it either. For years, I have run up and down those stairs fetching this or putting away that. Now I am riding a horse and seeing the stars at night. Scotland is a much more pleasing country.”

  “You did not leave any family behind?” Brendan wanted to know.

  She rolled her eyes. “Half of England is my family. I have had three mothers, four fathers and more brothers and sisters than I care to count. My mother died, my father remarried, then he died and his wife remarried and on it went. At least I never saw the inside of an orphanage, and I am happy for that?”

  “An orphanage?” asked Brendan.

  “Aye, ‘tis a place for children with no parents, and not always a very good place.”

  “I accept,” Brendan said.

  Greer stared at him. “Accept what?”

  “Your marriage proposal.”

  Her mouth dropped and her eyes grew large. “You know full well that was a mistake.”

  He narrowed his eyes, “A MacGreagor does not go back on a pledge ... ever.”

  “Then I will not be a MacGreagor.”

  Brendan grinned. “Too late.”

  She was suddenly at a loss for words, but when the shock wore off, she glared at him. “I do not want a husband, not now and not ever!”