HIS HIGHLAND LOVE: His Highland Heart Series Book 2

by Blair, Willa

  “There’s another Highlander here,” Craig told him as he ushered them into his cottage, Cat in the lead.

  “Cam! What are ye doing here?”

  Cat’s exclamation startled Kenneth into stiffening and putting a hand on the hilt of his stolen dirk.

  “Ah, Lady Mary Catherine, fortune is smiling upon me indeed.” A man rose from his seat by the fire and sketched a bow to her. “I quit town as soon as the gates opened this morn.”

  “Ye ken this man?” Kenneth demanded, then looked again. Catherine had been with this man the day he’d spotted her in town. Kenneth’s hackles rose.

  Cat nodded. “Kenneth Brodie, this is Cameron Sutherland, a friend of my cousin Abi’s.”

  “Yers as well, sweet Cat,” Sutherland interjected. “After the confidences we’ve shared?” He cast a glance in Kenneth’s direction.

  Cat narrowed her eyes.

  Kenneth stiffened at the man’s familiarity with Cat. He held his posture as Sutherland turned to him.

  Sutherland nodded. “Brodie, eh? Ye are a long way from home.”

  “Sutherland lies even farther away,” Kenneth answered smoothly.

  Sutherland laughed and inclined his head.

  Cat’s frowning gaze traveled from him to Kenneth and back again. Surely she was aware they were taking each other’s measure.

  “And St. Andrews is no longer hospitable to men—or women—like us.” Sutherland continued. “’Tis a shame.”

  “It seems to be so, aye,” Kenneth replied.

  “How do ye plan to get home, then? Surely ye dinna mean to make Lady Catherine walk the entire way.”

  Kenneth waved a hand back toward town, now probably eight miles behind them. They would have arrived here sooner if not for needing to hide and wait. “St. Andrews’ harbor is out of the question.”

  Sutherland nodded. “Prudent. But ’tis no’ the only port along the coast.”

  Kenneth leaned against the door. “Chancy at best. Any ship we encounter might be against us. Better to stay out of sight cross-country.”

  “Or to walk a short distance, then sail the rest of the way. Albany doesna control the seas. Highlanders sail there. As do ships from France and Flanders, and others…”

  Others, indeed. Could Sutherland know of a smuggler’s cove nearby? “What do ye have in mind?”

  Craig interrupted long enough to get them seated and drinking a mug of ale. “Ye canna plan with naught between yer ribs. The stew will be ready soon.”

  “Thank ye for your hospitality,” Cat offered as she settled back into a wooden chair by a small table and sipped her ale. “Ye canna ken how welcome it is.”

  Kenneth hid a grin when the man colored at Cat’s praise.

  “’Tis little enough,” Craig answered. “Now make yer plans while I see to supper.”

  “Eager to see us gone, are ye?” Sutherland taunted.

  Craig snorted and moved to the hearth where a cast iron pot hung on a hook. “We may be in the Lowlands, but I have no’ forgotten what true Highland hospitality means.”

  When they first entered, in the surprise of Cat greeting a strange man, Kenneth hadn’t noticed the appetizing aroma filling the croft. But he did now, and his stomach grumbled its impatience. “So, Sutherland, what do ye have in mind?”

  “The shipment I’ve awaited in St. Andrews is late,” he began, cradling his cup between his hands and frowning at the liquid in it. “Likely, we could catch it up the coast at Montrose.” He raised his head and looked Kenneth in the eye. “Failing that, there’s always shipping headed for the Highlands from Aberdeen. Sailing will be a damn sight easier—and closer—than making our way through the mountains. If an army is marching east, we’d have a hard time avoiding it going overland.”

  Kenneth raised a hand. “Except for having to cross the Tay and pass near Dundee. The port there will be crawling with Lowlander troops. Only a few trails run through the mountains an army might take. Many more can be used by a handful of men—or women.”

  “Can we ride?” Cat’s voice broke into the tension growing between the two men. “’Twould be faster.”

  “Aye, but we have little coin and a long way to travel,” Kenneth told her. He had none and doubted Cat had much. Sutherland might—or might not.

  “So we’ll go up the coast and hope for a friendly ship to pass by,” Sutherland said.

  His grin made the trip sound like a lark instead of a deadly serious flight from danger.

  “Have ye forgotten the difficulty of getting by the Warden’s cateran army that’s probably gathering at Perth?” Kenneth reminded him. “Unless ye mean to take a boat built only to cross the Tay and row it out into the northern sea.”

  “Nay.” Sutherland shook his head. “I am no’ addled enough to tempt fate so much.”

  Kenneth nodded. “Glad to hear it.”

  * * *

  Catherine shivered as she crossed the small yard from Craig’s croft to the barn. They were still close to the coast, so the day’s warmth had given way to a damp chill. Their host gave each of them a blanket so they could bed down for the night in the empty barn. The livestock was out to pasture for the summer. Craig offered to allow Catherine to sleep in the croft, but Kenneth refused to let her be separated from him.

  She suspected he didn’t trust their host far enough to leave her alone with him.

  In the barn, Cam gave her a wink and a tilt of his head, whether in invitation or merely a silent good night, Catherine didn’t know, but given he must think Kenneth was her husband, it had to be the latter. The thought of an invitation made her uncomfortable. In the few times she’d met Cam and spoken with him, she’d come to revise her initial opinion of him. She liked him well enough. But, she stayed by Kenneth, making it clear she would pass the night near him, if not with him. When Cam took himself off toward an opposite stall without further comment, Catherine sighed in relief. Not an invitation.

  She gave Kenneth a sidelong glance. He was busy watching Cam walk away, his expression unreadable. Catherine pursed her lips, suddenly glad they’d run into Cam. If his presence made Kenneth jealous, so much the better.

  She stepped into the nearest stall to decide how to array their blankets. Would Kenneth insist on sleeping separately in the hay, or agree to use one blanket underneath them and sleep together with their other on top? Though the idea made her nervous, Catherine could see the sense. If only Kenneth would cooperate. They’d be warmer and have a layer between them and the hay, which was none too clean and smelled faintly of mold.

  He laid his blanket over a railing and went outside, so she didn’t wait for him. She grabbed his and spread the lighter of the two on the cleanest area she could find, then stretched out and covered herself with the heavier blanket. She lay there, heart pounding, waiting for his return.

  What would he do? The lad she’d known was gone. In his place was a man who had seen and done things she could not imagine and probably did not want to know. So how would he treat a lass he once felt affection for when given the chance to share blankets? Should she worry for her virtue? Did she care?

  Nay, this was Kenneth. No matter what changes the years had wrought in him, she couldn’t fear him. Besides, Cam lay only a few stalls away.

  She could dream of getting back what they’d shared, aye, but she could also do something about it. What they’d once had was worth trying for again. She would be his shadow, always next to him, always visible, never out of his mind, until, perhaps, he recalled what he once felt for her, and perhaps started to feel it again.

  Kenneth came in then and paused at the stall door. He laid a hand on the railing at his side. As a man waiting for a lass to invite him to her bed, he looked more patient than she expected he felt.

  She spoke softly to keep Cam from hearing her. “Is this acceptable to ye?” She lifted up onto her elbows. “We’ll be warmer together than apart.” She reached for the far corner of the blanket and pulled it back. “’Tis roomy enough for both of us.”


  He didn’t move for a long moment, then shrugged, pulled aside the blanket and stretched out on his back, all without uttering a word.

  Lying next to the edge, he couldn’t be farther away unless he moved off the blanket and slept in the straw. Catherine wanted to groan. After a moment, he rested his head on his hands, elbows out, and crossed one ankle over the other. What would he do if she laid her head in the crook of his shoulder and used his arm for a pillow? Such simple closeness was innocent enough, but where would it lead?

  At long last, they were together. For the moment, at least. She should be satisfied, but knew being with him was only temporary. Only for as long as they traveled together, and until he found somewhere he deemed safe enough to leave her. She didn’t yet have the answers she craved, but if they stayed together long enough, those words would come. Eventually, he would tell her what he truly felt for her, and why he’d gone to France even after her betrothal had been cancelled.

  Would she scare him off if she moved closer?

  He took the decision away by turning his back to her and pulling the blanket he’d pushed aside to cover him. His intent couldn’t be more clear.

  “Go to sleep, Cat.”

  His words left no room for doubt, but his voice, as soft and intimate as their surroundings, tempted her to snuggle closer and drape her arm across his narrow waist. She imagined her bent arm would put her hand just over his beating heart. If she pressed her cheek to his back, she’d hear it as well as feel it under her hand. Would it be strong and low, a slow and measured beat? Or fast, betraying feelings he hid from her? She wanted to know. Anger at him still made her want to cry, but the urge to touch him was strong. Yet, if she did, he might leave her, thinking to protect her from himself. She didn’t want to lose him, not when he lay so close. She wanted him near. Needed him near, his scent in her nose, his heat warming her, even if from inches away. And after two years, she wouldn’t let him go.

  * * *

  Kenneth was going to lose his mind before he got Cat somewhere safe—safe from marauding armies and safe from him. Sleeping with her for only one night had tried him beyond his limits. Waking with her lush, round bottom snuggled against his thighs had hardened him in an instant. He’d rolled away to keep from prodding her awake with the evidence of his need for her. He didn’t want her to know how much he still wanted her. How being with her was sweet torture. How sleeping next to her, even in their rough camp, was heaven on earth. And how feeling her body pressed to his nearly made him come.

  If he was a less honorable man, he would conclude if she wanted to play at being married, he should be able to play, too—and claim a husband’s rights. Did she insist on sharing their blankets because she wanted him to?

  He had to leave her someplace safe. She was too much of a temptation. Many more days—and nights—like this one and he’d be as much of a danger to her virtue as any army they might encounter would be to her life.

  Arguing with her got his blood up. Sleeping with her aroused him even more—nearly past his control. What he wanted would be natural and right if they married and stayed together, but he intended to leave, or to join the fight. What if something happened to him? He would not leave her with a child to raise without him. Nay, he had to find a safe haven for her.

  He got up and slipped away, leaving her to rest while he talked to Craig and got some food to break their fast. Their host was already up and headed for the barn when Kenneth stepped outside.

  “I was on the way to tell ye to get moving,” he announced without preamble. “A ghillie just brought word they’re rounding up Highlanders in town. It’s getting ugly. A priest believed to be a Highland sympathizer was hanged.”

  Kenneth tensed. “Do ye ken who it was?”

  “A Frenchman, I believe.”

  Kenneth’s heart sank. Phillippe was the only French priest he knew within the walls of the St. Andrews castle. Someone must have seen him let Kenneth out of the servants door, and reported him. In the end, he’d done the right thing and paid his debt to Kenneth—and been killed for it.

  Kenneth eyed Cat through the open door. She still slept the sleep of the innocent, wrapped in a borrowed blanket. He was loathe to wake her—or Cameron Sutherland—but this news demanded action. Now, after this tale of horror, would she believe him?

  “’Twill no’ be long before they search beyond the town’s borders,” Craig continued, then nodded to Sutherland who came out yawning and rubbing the rough stubble darkening his face. “What news?”

  “None good,” Kenneth told him.

  Craig handed Kenneth a cloth-wrapped bundle. “Here’s food for the road. Ye’d best wake yer wife and go now.”

  Sutherland cut a wide-eyed glance at Kenneth, then took a similar parcel from Craig.

  Cat, still blinking sleep from her eyes, came out before Kenneth had a chance to correct Craig.

  “Good morrow to ye, Lady Catherine” Craig greeted her. “I just told yer husband the unhappy news about events in town. I hope ye are ready to travel.”

  Kenneth winced at the look of confusion on her face, but decided the fiction of their marriage might be one more layer of protection for Cat.

  “I…we are no’…”

  “Quite ready to go,” Kenneth interjected. If Craig thought she was his wife, anyone he told about their visit would accept the fiction and assume they were after the wrong man. If Sutherland believed the same, it might serve to curb the flirting he favored Cat with. “But we thank ye for the food. We’ll leave in moments.”

  “Good enough, then,” Craig said and turned away.

  With narrowed eyes, Kenneth watched him walk back to his cottage. Why hadn’t he heard this runner? Even a man on foot should have awakened him. A horse definitely would have.

  “Do what ye must, but quickly,” Kenneth warned Cat.

  Cat nodded and returned to the barn.

  Then he turned a frown on Sutherland. “Something’s amiss.” At Sutherland’s quizzical expression, he continued, “Did ye hear a runner arrive in the last hour?”

  “Nay, but I only awoke a little while ago.”

  “I heard naught, and I should have.” Kenneth clenched a fist.

  Sutherland shrugged. “Mayhap ye slept too deeply after a night next to yer wife…” He trailed off at Kenneth’s frown. “Or mayhap now the sun is up, our friend only wants to be rid of us quickly in fear of searchers coming this way.”

  “Then the sooner we leave, the better. Gather yer things.”

  Sutherland nodded and returned to the barn.

  Cat and Sutherland came out together moments later.

  Cat had her small parcel of food and keepsakes. The blankets they’d used draped over her arm. “What should we do with these?”

  “Leave them. If we’re caught, they could connect us to Craig. I dinna wish to repay his hospitality in so dangerous a fashion.” He glanced at Sutherland, whose gaze scanned the countryside around them. Kenneth presumed he was watching for trouble. Then he looked back to Cat. “Are ye ready to go?”

  “Aye, if we must.” She laid the blankets on a pile of hay just inside the barn, then glanced around. “’Tis quiet. What…”

  “I dinna ken.” Kenneth took her arm. The sooner they put some distance behind them, the sooner the back of his neck would stop prickling. They left. Cat moved beside him across Craig’s open field into the adjacent forest as quickly and as quietly as he’d ever known a lass to move. She must feel the same sense of disquiet. They dodged thorny bushes and ducked tree limbs, the forest loam beneath their feet muffling the sound of their footfalls. Sutherland kept pace just behind them. Kenneth glanced back. Aye, watching their back trail. Having him along could be useful.

  A low rumble sounded far behind them, startling Cat into a run.

  Kenneth caught up with her and grabbed her arm, halting her. “Wheesht,” he cautioned, then stood still for a moment, listening. “Riders, arriving at Craig’s croft. Despite my misgivings, he did us a great service, getting us
gone so quickly.”

  Sutherland rose from his crouch behind some bracken and gestured onward. “We’re deep enough in these woods, they willna see us from the croft. I suggest we dinna delay any longer.”

  Kenneth took Cat’s arm and kept moving, quickly, but carefully. They’d hear horses long before riders could spot them in these woods.

  “He’ll no’ send them after us, will he, after warning us away?”

  Cat’s fearful tone and widened eyes prompted him to reassure her. “I dinna think so, but we’d best no’ tarry.”

  Cat nodded and picked up the pace.

  Kenneth kept them moving quickly southwest for another hour. Sutherland made no comment, though that direction took them away from the coast and the ship he hoped to meet. They heard no more horses. Craig must have seen the direction they took when they left and sent the riders another way. Finally, Kenneth called a halt at a burn to let them rest and catch their breath.

  Chapter 9

  By the time they stopped for a brief rest, Catherine was already tired of traveling. They’d been on the run for only a day, a night in Craig’s barn, and half of another day—not so very long. Sailing would certainly have been easier than walking, but the harbor at St. Andrews was now only a fond memory—out of reach.

  Her feet hurt, and to distract herself, she thought about how she’d sailed into St. Andrews in the company and care of a friend of Mary’s on his ship. Catherine would forever be grateful her sister had taken pity on her and arranged passage without their father’s knowledge.

  Without Mary’s help, she wouldn’t be sharing a fallen log seat with the only man she’d ever loved. She tossed a stick she found on the ground by her feet. As mad as she was with Kenneth over his pig-headed idea of what was best for her, her horror at the thought of him dangling at the end of a rope like the priest they’d heard about showed her she still loved him. She wanted to do whatever it took to get him to safety, even if it meant walking all the way to Brodie. Or even home to Rose, though that was the last place she wanted to go.