‘From the beginning of it, though once I comprehended you were not Camerons, I knew I needed to get that word to Brodie.’
Smart.
Fia walked over and handed him the shirt. He let the blanket drop to his waist and struggled his way into it. When he could not raise his arm high enough due to the pain, she was there, easing it over his injured shoulder and then holding it as he got it on. A tunic followed the same route and was soon in place over the linen shirt. That left the...trews. She held them out to him and blushed.
‘Did you see to my care while I was unconscious?’ he asked, accepting the garment. There had been no one else, he suspected. She turned and walked to the other side of the raised pallet in the middle of the chamber without answering. He smiled that she was not shy or intimidated by anything about him.
‘Aye,’ she said, safely away from him.
‘Tell me again how we got out of the camp,’ he said to distract her from her discomfort. ‘I remember nothing of what happened and little of what you told me earlier.’ He wanted her talking. He wanted to hear the voice that had called him back from darkness now while he could see her. ‘And, if you would push the trews over that, I will see to the rest.’
His leg, broken indeed, was wrapped in some contraption consisting of wooden slats and linen or cloth strips. A short but wider piece sat under his foot and all of it was tied somehow together, keeping his leg straight. But there was simply no possibility of him leaning over and manoeuvring the garment over it.
‘Here,’ she said. ‘I took out the seam so that it will fit over that. Mistress Murray’s cousin Glynis told me how.’
It did work as expected and he was able to put his other leg in and pull them up into place. Exhausted now, he asked her again. Her telling would give him a chance to rest before anything else was expected of him.
‘So, how did you get me out of there?’
‘Do you remember nothing of it?’ she asked.
‘I remember trying to distract them by charging them as you ran. I remember the worst of it and them worrying over your escape and the Mackintosh’s possible arrival. A few more kicks and nothing.’ He touched his head and face. ‘I thought my nose was broken. And I could not see out of one eye.’
‘Aye, ’twas broken.’ She’d pushed it back in place. Would her wonders never cease?
‘I hid until everything settled down, then made my way around the camp to see what they were doing,’ she explained. ‘One by one, those cowards left in the night, walking out quietly so Martainn did not know.’
‘And Martainn?’ he asked. If the man had been left behind, what had happened to him? From the guilty expression in those bright green eyes, he had his suspicions. ‘Not the cooking pot?’ He laughed then. ‘Poor Martainn.’
‘Poor Martainn, my ar...’ she began and she stopped. ‘The pot was too heavy to wield well, so I used the girdle instead.’
He doubted that any of them stood a chance against her once she set her mind to something. He’d not or else he would have resisted that urge to see to her safety. He should have simply seduced her and abandoned her when the time came, as an outlaw would have. As he should have. To protect his own mission. To save his family.
But once he’d seen her and then when she kissed him in the night, Niall knew he would not be able to do that. Lured in by those eyes and that mouth, tempted by her innocence and intelligence, he had found—at the worst possible moment in his entire life—the woman he’d dreamt of finding.
For, as smart and self-reliant and confident and resourceful and caring as she was, Fia Mackintosh was not a suitable bride for Lord Niall Corbett of Kelso. He could not have both her and everything promised by the King. ’twas one or the other and sadly he knew what his choice must be. When the time came, he would see her back to her family and be eternally grateful that he’d found her.
‘It only took one time and he slept,’ she was saying then. ‘I knew we must get out of there, so I packed up what I could. Getting you on the horse took the longest time.’
‘I must have been a dead weight to you? How did you do it?’ Resourceful again.
‘You were awake for part of it,’ she explained. ‘I just did it. I decided that I would get you out of there and you could return that ring to its owner.’ She reached up and touched the neckline of her gown. ‘I have kept it safe for you. And the book of hours, though I have been reading that each night.’
The thought of her holding his mother’s book tore at his heart. More, she’d known it was important in spite of his refusal to reveal anything about it to her. In spite of that, she’d found it and brought it along.
‘I am glad that it is being used.’ He smiled at her. ‘And I hope you are praying for my wicked soul as my m—’ He managed to stop himself before he revealed anything more.
‘I am,’ she said, smiling back at him then.
‘And what of Martainn?’ he asked. ‘Must we pray for your soul as well?’
‘You might find this something that is difficult to believe, sir,’ she said, standing and walking over to the door. ‘Before I met you, I neither cursed nor hit people with pans or pots. I was a well-behaved young woman in service to a lady. So, I must blame my sins on you,’ Fia said. ‘Clearly you are the cause.’
Before he could respond, she pulled open the door and walked out, returning a few minutes later with young Tomas and Munro. She stood back while they aided him in returning to the bed. This time, he insisted on sitting up.
‘You should not fight on this. Give in to what your body is telling you.’
She’d spoken those words like the true innocent she was and all Niall could do was sit in silence while observing the smirks on the faces of young Tomas and Munro. Inappropriate or not for a brother and sister to say, the lads picked up on the tawdry double meanings of words even if she did not. The devil was on his own shoulder and he nodded them out of the chamber before replying.
‘If you order me to bed, lass, I would never argue the point,’ he said, watching her face for the expected becoming blush. ‘I hope you will join me as you did that last night we had in the cave?’
‘You must be feeling better if you can jest like that,’ she whispered, adjusting the covers in spite of his suggestive words. He noticed that she could not stop herself from helping him.
Jesting took his strength and instead of pithy reply, he yawned loud and long. She laughed right in his face then and, especially to hear such a thing after so much danger and trouble, he loved the sound and sight of it. He loved...
Niall searched her face then, staring at her beautiful green eyes, and knew the truth—he had fallen in love with the one woman he could never claim.
He did not fight the exhaustion and let it claim him then.
* * *
Fia sighed as he fell into sleep’s grasp. He’d given her the strangest look just before his eyes closed then. The man truly had no idea of what had happened over the last fortnight.
She’d slept at his side every night except the ones they’d spent at the monastery. There, he was left in the care of the brothers and she was given a room in the area outside the gates reserved for lay people who visited. And when they travelled with the others, she kept a distance but was with him. Once here at the inn, separated only by a blanket, she held him through the night.
She picked up the drying cloths and buckets to return them to the kitchen. Within a few minutes, the chamber was straightened and he was snoring softly. Seeing him awake just then, sitting in that chair with that wicked smile had made it so clear to her that she’d almost lost him.
He’d almost died several times. When the fever caught hold of him, sending him into convulsions from the heat, she knew he would die. And he did not. Then when he would not wake, the brother at the monastery told her he would simply slip off life’s hold and pass into
death without ever opening his eyes. That was when she took him from there. The brothers must have thought her mad, but they did arrange for their travel.
So when she saw him sitting there, she wanted to cry. Though worn out and thinner, his beard scruffy and his hair a tangled mess, she understood he would live. She’d made all sorts of bargains with the Almighty during those long, dark nights and she wondered which one He’d accepted.
The one in which she promised to never disobey her parents again?
Or the one when she said she would never utter a bad word or impolite phrase again in her whole life?
Or the one when she vowed to never look on him in a wanton and sinful way or to kiss him ever again if he lived?
Knowing what was preached by the church, she suspected it must be that last one, but she could not help the way she felt when she was near him. Even in his deepest sleep, when he could not know she was there, he would gather her close and whisper to her. A few times, Fia thought him awake and speaking to her. Only when she saw that his eyes were closed and he could not be roused did she understand.
Trying to sort out her thoughts, she retrieved the book of hours and opened it. Fia felt guilty, reading from such a fine, expensive and personal gift as this was. Not many people could afford to own such a book let alone commission one made for them. She’d been permitted to read any book that Arabella or Brodie owned and understood what an honour and privilege that was. But to sit here and hold this one was special and she knew it. She smiled then as she saw the name once more. Elizabeth Corbett.
His mother, she knew now. Iain had slipped twice in referring to the owner of this book. Who must be or have been a wealthy woman. Or she could have received it as a gift from someone wealthy. Fia sighed, knowing that she would understand nothing until or unless he revealed his identity to her.
The rains did come as Mistress Murray had predicted, but these were calm and quiet when she compared them to the wild Highland storms they’d had. After she’d helped with chores in the kitchen, against the woman’s orders, she crept back into the chamber to find him yet sleeping. Fia removed her shoes and stockings and slid on to the bed next to him as she did each night.
When he shifted his arm, she lay closer, resting her head on his chest where she could listen to his heart beating. Strong and calm now which eased her fears even more. Some time in the night, his arm gathered her in and she moved closer, carefully resting her arm over his chest. Almost asleep, his whisper surprised her.
‘Why, Fia? Why did you save me?’ he asked.
They’d spoken several times over the last days and after he’d slept, he remembered nothing of the conversations. Part of her needed to tell him, to tell him a secret of her own even when he would not share his. She’d lied earlier. Her reasons had nothing to do with his actions and were completely about her.
Her needs. Her dream. Her imaginings.
She would say it and get the weight of it off her soul. He would sleep through it and never remember. Mayhap then she could deal with him rationally and return home when the time came?
‘I saved you because I wanted my dreams to come true, Iain. I’d dreamt of being swept up by a handsome rogue, falling in love and finding my future with him. As Arabella did. As Eva did.’ She took in a slow breath and let it out on a sigh. ‘I wanted that, too.’
He did not move or react so she knew him to be asleep.
‘If I saved you, mayhap you could love me. If you loved me, my silly, girlish dreams could come true. If...’
She’d closed her eyes against the tears that came. Tucking her head down, she let sleep claim her then.
So she never saw him watching her as she spoke or saw the pain in his gaze when he realised he would kill those dreams very soon.
Chapter Seventeen
Alan realised he’d made a serious mistake when he’d discovered the camp empty.
He’d found the tracks of men and horses all along his path up the mountainside and the area at the top was a disaster. They’d left in a hurry. They’d left separately. They’d left in two different directions. He found signs of all of those things. But as he went from cave to cave, he’d found nothing to tell him if Fia was alive or dead.
There was blood and signs of a struggle involving a number of people. Broken things and chaos. But no sign of Fia. He knew from his previous time here and from what Brodie had told him that there were hiding places to ensure his people could escape from an attack. Well, this had looked like there had been an attack in several places around the camp.
He’d searched and then began calling for the lass, thinking that she had taken cover and might yet be there. Nothing. No one.
* * *
Then, ten days later, he thought he might finally be back on her trail.
After doubling back on the tracks, he’d realised that one single horse had left the camp using the southern trail. Following that had taken him out of Mackintosh lands along the paths used by the cattle drovers at the end of the summer as they guided their herds to the markets in the south. Since the roads were usually the clearest, most passable roads, they were used by many others the rest of the year.
What he did not understand was why she was going south and east instead of Drumlui? Then, when he’d found more blood along the trail, he worried that she’d been injured and was confused and travelling without direction. He would never forgive himself for leaving her behind and not following Brodie’s instructions.
He’d come upon the small village and stopped at the village well. A few coins spread around and he’d found out the truth—’twas the man he’d seen at the camp who was injured, and Fia was taking him to the monastery for help. Completely confused over this development, he’d followed along until he reached that holy place.
Each place along the trail brought more surprises about Fia and this man. At the monastery, she’d claimed him as kin when the monks treated his extensive injuries. He’d caught up to the merchants whom the abbot said had taken them on travelling on the road to Stirling only to find that they’d been left in Crieff. Now, almost two weeks and many miles later, Alan stood in the main square of the market town looking for them.
He’d been here once before very close to the time when the cattle were brought in for the yearly tryst and he was gladdened that it was not then. With a dozen or more head of cattle for every human resident of the town, there was more dust and dirt and shite than could be borne. And fights, murders and deaths as the raucous visitors from the outlying islands and Highlands often found cause to use their fists and swords to settle or cause disputes.
Now though, it was a more pleasant version of itself, and its wide streets were filled with travellers on their way to other places. Unfortunately for him, the inns and places where visitors could take rooms were spread all over the town and not concentrated in one section or another. He wandered the streets, listening and looking in pubs and market stalls for any sign of the lass, all the while trying to sort out why she would yet be with the black-haired man.
If the man even lived. The monks said they’d done what they could and did not expect the man to wake. And that his ‘sister’ insisted on returning him to their family. Alan shook his head over that bit every time he thought on it.
After three days without a sign of Fia, Alan was ready to admit defeat and return to face an angry Mackintosh chieftain. The only good thing was Alan’s knowledge of who was behind the troubles rising between their families and that might save him from the shame of failure. And once Alan reported back to Brodie, he had no doubt that every available warrior and every possible connection and ally would be used to find the girl.
If she had returned once she escaped, her ruination could have been handled. But now, with witnesses reporting her staying with her kidnapper and even helping him escape, it would be more difficult to manage the shame that she wou
ld face among their kith and kin.
Then, without warning, he spotted her in the square as she crossed the street. Alan was so certain he would not find her that he nearly missed her, but she appeared to be making her way to the butcher’s shop. He knew where she would be.
* * *
Though Niall remembered little of the time when he was in the worst pain from his injuries, it did nothing to ease it now as he began to recover from them. After lying abed for all those days, no part of him wanted to move with ease or strength. His leg was the most serious injury and the only good thing about it was that the bone had not broken completely or through his skin.
Glynis assured him he would walk without a limp once the healing was complete. And she insisted that the wooden brace be worn until such a time as she was pleased with his progress. He did not tell her that when he needed to leave for Edinburgh he would go, whether or not she approved.
But, he did appreciate her care. And the way that Mistress Murray had taken Fia in and watched out for her while he could not. Not that he’d ever truly been good at that. Niall stood at the doorway to the kitchen, quite proud of his progress, and watched as the innkeeper ordered everyone about their chores. The lass was in the middle of it and never seemed happier.
Niall had not let on that he’d heard her words or remembered them. ’twas just as cowardly as the outlaws who’d left one of their own behind in the dark of the night. Even admitting to knowing her reasons or her dreams would hurt her more.
He could be on the threshold of being able to reclaim his heritage and his honour. The King would see that his attempt to do his bidding made him worthy of his godfather’s favour. He might not have succeeded, but with the clues he had picked up, he could continue to investigate.
Or mayhap the King would show mercy to his mother and sister in response to his heretofore efforts? He rubbed his hands over his face and then caught himself before he stumbled.
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