Heart of Ashes (Hearts of the Highlands Book 1)

by Paula Quinn

  She severed their gaze, though he sought to hold it. What did he want to tell her? Something! He liked being around her more than anyone else he had been near in a very long time. He thought she was the bonniest lass he’d ever come across, even looking like death was at her door. Would this work? What would Robert do if no one wanted to wed her? What if he wed her?

  The thought rushed through his mind before he could stop it. He looked away and scowled at the men looking at her.

  She didn’t want to marry, and she sure as hell wouldn’t want the Highland commander who took her home from her.

  “I do not care if you are ill!” Some about-to-be dead peacock called out.

  “Oh?” Aleysia said and coughed into a small cloth she pulled from her belt.

  “I am Sir James Woods, Governor of Bamburgh.” He stepped forward in his wrapped hood and presented thin, outstretched arms. He looked to be at least twenty years older than her. “I have brought you some perfume from France and fine silk from the Far East. I have much more to offer once we are wed.”

  Cain wanted to spring from his chair and tear out Sir James Woods’ heart from his chest.

  “I do not fear if you are ill, my dear lady,” Woods continued, oblivious to the rumbling mountain beside her. “I see the strength in your eyes to recover. I would be a fool to leave once I laid eyes on you.”

  She smiled behind her cloth and coughed again, then leaned forward for Cain’s cup. After a long sip, she leaned back and swiped her knuckles across her mouth, smearing off some of the powder from her lips. “Thank you, Sir James, you may—”

  “Look at that!” he smiled, showing a row of yellowing teeth. “You are looking better already! Why, your lips are like ripe—”

  “Governor Woods,” Cain cut him off with a warning glare. “Take yer bow and move on. The lady has more suitors to greet.”

  He didn’t want to go. Cain could see it in his eyes. He wanted to stand up to the primitive-looking Highlander who’d taken this castle and a dozen before it, but he didn’t.

  The next worm to step forward was Sir Andrew something-or-other from Doddington. He was tall and thin with timid eyes and a sharp nose. “Commander MacPherson, thank you for inviting us into Lismoor to—”

  “Why are you thanking him when ’tis my castle?” Aleysia asked with icy contempt. “You are not off to a grand start, Sir Andrew.” She waved him away. “Who is next?”

  Confident that none of these peacocks could win Aleysia’s heart, Cain smiled as more English noblemen from everywhere in Northumberland came forward. He even recognized some of the faces from various castles he’d stormed.

  He listened while she methodically discouraged every suitor, either with her fits of coughing or her sharp tongue. So many times, he wanted to smile at her, proud of her courage and determination to avoid what she didn’t want. But she barely spared him a look the entire morning.

  When the last courter of the morning left, Cain finally turned to her. “Ye were a nightmare.”

  She finally smiled at him and it felt as if he could breathe again. He hated that she held such command over his moods, but he didn’t know how to stop it.

  “Do you think I frightened any of them away?”

  “All of them, no doubt.”

  “Good,” she said and stood from his chair. “Well, ’twas nice seeing you—everyone today.”

  Hell, what was this warmth seeping into his muscles, his bones, his gaze? It made him ache to hold her, kiss her, tell her…what? What could he offer her? There were days he felt like a tortured soul in a living grave. Days he prayed to Father Timothy’s God to let him die on the battlefield so that he could have this peace he’d heard so much about. But he lived. Every time.

  He watched her turn to leave. He reached out. “Aleysia.” His voice stopped her. She turned her pale face to him.

  I must help ye find her first. Father Timothy’s words at Bannockburn came rushing back at him. Something to do with love.

  He swallowed and his heartbeat accelerated. He looked toward Heaven. He didn’t want love in his life. He couldn’t love her and watch her marry someone else, or watch her give away her home because of him. He couldn’t stop any of it without betraying the king. “There is nothin’ I can do, lass.”

  “You mean, there is nothing you will do,” she accused him and left the hall.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Aleysia stood on the battlements and watched Cainnech leave the castle. She let her tears fall freely, leaving streaks down her powdered face. She deserved this misery for losing her heart to a Scot.

  Still, as infuriating as Cainnech was, she would rather spend the day—or the night with him than any of those noblemen. She’d almost fallen asleep twice. In fact, she believed she had taken a short nap when Lord Kendrick of Brampton went on about his lavish home and all of his riches. He may have said something about liking beautiful things and her fitting right in. Or she may have dreamed it. Either way, she didn’t like him. She didn’t like any of them. She made a note to tell Rauf and the men all about Lord Kendrick’s lavish home.

  Why couldn’t the man seeking her hand, pledging his life to her and her happiness, be the man who was letting her go?

  She would like to run away as well. But she had people depending on her. What was she to do? If Cainnech was leaving, and the Bruce took over her land, who would look after everyone? Shouldn’t she be at least trying to discover which of her suitors would treat her friends the best?

  She closed her eyes and said a prayer. She didn’t want to marry any one of those men. They cowered to her, and if not to her, then to Cainnech. They looked like pretty little flowers all lined up in a row, ready for the picking.

  “My dear?”

  She startled at the sound of Father Timothy’s satiny voice behind her. She wiped her eyes quickly and tried to steady her voice. “Forgive me, Father, I did not hear you,” she said without turning around.

  “That’s quite all right. Here now.” He put his hand on her arm and gently urged her to turn. “Why d’ye not come sit down and tell my why ye weep.”

  “I should confess first,” she said, sliding down the short wall and sitting on the cold ground.

  “If ye wish.” He looked down at her and then at the small bench a few feet away. Finally, he shrugged and bent to sit beside her. When his knees popped, she looked at him and he smiled sheepishly.

  Oh, what was happening to her? She was beginning to love Father Timothy…and William. All of them!

  When she felt her eyes begin to burn again, she refused to weep or beg him not to go. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but she wanted to confess just in case.

  “I thought about killing today,” she began, and then stopped again. “In truth, I have thought about it often. Ever since Cainnech arrived. I do not know if he has told you, but I took a dagger to him many times. Father, I do not see the humor in this.”

  “Fergive me, child,” he said, his smile not altogether fading. “Go on. Who did ye think aboot killin’ today?”

  “Oh,” she threw up her hands. “I do not remember his name. They all looked the same, spoke the same, smelled the same. I thought I was dying, and there are still more arriving for me to see this afternoon! Father!”

  He covered his smile with his hand and gave her an apologetic look.

  “Cainnech was the only thing that made it bearable,” she confessed. “Every time I think about someone else kissing me, it makes me want to weep.” She swiped a blasted tear away from her eye but another one fell in its place. “He has done something to me, made me feel things I thought I would never feel—like loving the man who took my home and then left me to the whims of his king—Father Timothy, if you are going to continue to smile at everything I say, I will no longer say anything at all.”

  “My dear, ye love him.”

  What? No. That wasn’t what she said. Was it? She nodded and gave up wiping her eyes. “Aye. Aye, I love him. I confess the treachery of my hear
t for it. I am sorry for those I have betrayed because of it. But if I must share my days and nights with someone, I would prefer it be him. But I fear I cannot break through to him. He runs from me over and over again, even though I do not think he wants to. He will never love me.”

  He took both her hands in his. “Oh, but ye are incorrect, my dear lass. That is why he is more afraid now than before. Ye have made him speak things I never thought I would hear him say. That is why he is runnin’. Nae.” He stopped and put his hand to his mouth. “I shouldna be tellin’ ye any of this. ’Tis not my place to—”

  “Father!” She almost pinched him. “You must tell me everything!”

  He thought about it for a moment and then looked into her pleading eyes. “All right, but I dinna know much.”

  She groaned impatiently.

  He cast her a furtive smile and looked around, making certain they were alone. “He cares fer ye, lass. He has admitted to it, even to the men.” He paused when her eyes widened with surprise.

  “When did he tell the men? And what exactly did he tell them?”

  “Last night. He said he protected ye from them because he cares fer ye.”

  Her heart quickened and her belly knotted and made her feel queasy. “Father, why was he telling the men that he protected me from them?”

  The priest didn’t have to say anything else. His large, fretful eyes spoke for him.

  “He told them?” she asked, wanting to run and never face any of them again.

  “He had no other choice, lass. Their suspicions grew when the king involved himself in yer future.”

  She nodded, understanding, but—“They hate me.”

  “They admire ye,” he corrected. “Ye were ready to die fer yer home.”

  She lowered her gaze. “How can they forget what I did in the forest?”

  “There are some who understand the necessity fer battle, great or small. Some who admire the courage to see it through. Those are the men who already care fer ye.” He smiled and, for a moment, she believed that all would be well.

  “But the difficult part now lies before ye.”

  “This has not been the difficult part?” she asked softly, holding her hands to her chest.

  “Nae. Gettin’ Cainnech to tell ye…and himself, how he feels will be the hardest. But ye must or I fear he will go, and then there will be nothin’ left to salvage.”

  “What do I do?” she asked, praying he was right and he could help her.

  “Well, it seems to me, but I dinna know much aboot courtin’, so I could be wrong, but, if he is doin’ the runnin’, perhaps ’tis time he do the chasin’.”

  She leaned in closer and listened to his advice.

  When he was done, they sat against the wall and the strong wind and spoke of other things for a little while, like her brother, King Edward, and William.

  “He needs our help, Father,” she said of the young Scot. “His heart is broken over a girl whose father purchased him for a stone and then…” She looked at Father Timothy. It hit her. The thing creeping around in her head about Will, not making itself known until now.

  The priest wore the same look on his face she must be wearing on hers. “William was purchased fer a stone?” he asked on a shaken breath.

  She nodded. “He told me so himself.” She felt lightheaded at how hard her heart was beating. “Has he never told you?”

  The priest shook his head. “He has never spoken of his past and we thought it best not to push. So we didna ask.”

  William! Was it possible Cainnech’s brother had been living with him for the last few months?

  “Did he…did he say when he was purchased? Where?”

  “No, but how many people do you know who were purchased for a stone?”

  The priest scrambled to his feet. “Come. We must find William and ask him.”

  “Oh, Father, do you think ’tis possible?” She was afraid to hope for such a wondrous thing. “I’m certain William is his brother. Mattie and I even spoke of how they share expressions, and look how they get along.”

  “Aye,” Father Timothy agreed as they hurried toward the guard’s tower and through the heavy doors. “But we must be as certain as we can be. Cainnech would go mad if he lost his brother twice.”

  Was Cainnech truly going to get his brother back? She wanted to shout with excitement.

  They searched for William and found him in his room. Aleysia noticed a quill and parchment on a small table beside the window. She was surprised a servant could read and write. Had Julianna taught him? The instant Aleysia looked at him, she saw Cainnech in the depths of his angry gaze. Was he writing to Julianna?

  “William, what do you know about your birth, your kin, anything?” asked Aleysia.

  “Nothing really. Just what I told you. Why?”

  “Where did yer purchase take place?” Father Timothy asked him, staring into his eyes, searching for the answer.

  “Invergarry, I think,” William answered. He waited while the priest held his hand to his forehead and used the other hand to guide himself into the nearest chair.

  “How old were ye when ye were sold?” he asked. “A babe? A boy? Which was it? Do ye know?”

  William nodded watching them, seeming to sense that these insignificant questions were about to usher in something new in his life. “A babe. I—” He closed his eyes as if he were trying to remember. “I was told I was two winters.”

  “And how old are ye now?” Father Timothy asked, his breath held, his dark eyes filled with tears. “You canna be more than a score. Nicholas would have been—”

  “Two and twenty,” William answered softly.

  “Two and twenty,” the priest echoed and stood up from his seat.

  “Is there anythin’ else, lad?” he asked, stepping forward.

  William looked off to the side, trying to remember and then finally did. “I may have had a brother or a sister, but I do not know for certain.”

  “Ye have two,” Father Timothy told him. “Brothers.”

  William stood still in his place, only his eyes moved from Father Timothy to Aleysia. “I have…” He shook his head, not understanding. “How do you know this?”

  “Cainnech had—has two brothers,” Father Timothy told him, “who were taken by the English a score of years ago after they killed the boys’ parents and burned down their home in Invergarry. One of his brothers, called Nicholas, was two winters old when he was sold fer a stone.”

  William said nothing for a long time. His eyes filled up with tears that sparkled like diamonds in a summer stream. “The commander is my brother,” he said as if he needed to say it, hear it coming from his own mouth, to believe it. “My brother.”

  “Aye,” Father Timothy said, his smile turning into laughter. “He is yer brother.”

  The priest turned to Aleysia with his luminous, sable eyes going warm. “Ye found him, my dear lass.” He reached up and took William’s stunned face in his hands. “Ye found Nicholas.”

  More suitors had arrived, along with some returning lords. Aleysia made them all wait for her in the great hall while Mattie helped her change her gown and clean her face. They took their time. There was much to do and, besides that, Cainnech hadn’t yet returned to the castle.

  Aleysia needed him here. She couldn’t go through another hour of listening to these men speak as if they knew her, loved her on sight. Oh, she lamented, this afternoon was going to be so much worse.

  Now, there was a different plan altogether and Cainnech needed to be here for it. Where in the blazes was he?

  She hadn’t told Mattie about William being Cainnech’s brother. That was their tale to tell if they chose to.

  “Aleysia, you are shivering!” her friend pointed out and finished pinning the last pearl to Aleysia’s hair. “There! You are ready!”

  Aleysia’s hair was loosely plaited into a side braid clasped at the shoulder and then left to cascade in rich, lustrous locks over her breast. Mattie had interwoven pearls through
out the plait and dusted her skin with crushed pearl powder.

  “I dried some of your bluebells and then crushed them with a bit of water, and then I added a small smudge to the corners of your eyes,” Mattie said, smiling, proud of her work. “You can hardly notice it, but it makes your eyes look more vivid green.”

  Aleysia stood up and ran her hand down her white velvet gown. “I cannot delay this day any longer.” She turned to her friend. “Will you come with me?”

  “Of course!” Mattie said emphatically and stepped in behind her. “Remember to watch your sleeves.”

  Aleysia nodded. The damned things practically hung to her knees.

  With no other reason to wait, she led them out of the solar.

  When she stepped inside the great hall and saw her suitors seated and waiting at the tables, she felt a little ill and pressed her hand to her belly. Was she truly going to have to marry one of these men in order to remain at Lismoor? Who else would see to her friends, the people who raised her?

  She smiled at Father Timothy, and then she saw William behind him, armed with at least six different weapons in his belt and behind his back. He no longer looked like he couldn’t use them.

  She eyed Cainnech’s slightly larger chair and was about to sit in it when all eyes turned on the doorway again and the towering Highlander standing in it, his dark, brooding eyes on her.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Aleysia forgot about being the most beautiful one in the hall when Cainnech stepped inside. He moved with leashed power toward her, keeping his eyes on her alone. Her heart both broke for him and prepared to stand strong against him. She had to. She had to in order to snatch him from hatred’s cold hands and win his heart.

  He took in the sight of her like a dying, angry man. She stared right back. If anyone should be angry it was she! He was allowing this!

  Finally, he broke their gaze and raked it over Father Timothy and William.

  “Ye brought two women here in the midst of twenty men,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. “With only the two of ye to protect them?”