Highlander Unbroken (Highland Adventure Book 8)

by Vonda Sinclair

  "No trouble, but I did see them."

  "You did? Oh, good heavens." Her face blanched. "Do they ken where we are?"

  "Nay, they rode toward the east, away from here."

  "What if they return?"

  "'Tis possible, but I believe the hard rain will drive them indoors at the first village they come to. 'Twill also wash away the remaining traces of our tracks."

  "I do hope so." She bit a nail, making him want to drag her hand to his mouth, kiss it and try to calm her.

  Needing to focus, he glanced away. He had considered readying for a trip back to Bearach as soon as the rain let up, but since only fifteen men had proceeded east, another almost two dozen were somewhere. Perhaps their leader had left a few men along the trail to catch Anna and Neacal if they passed that way again. He didn't want to tell her that and increase her anxiety even more. Nor did he wish her to know that the men would likely head to Bearach if they didn't locate them soon. He was certain Korbin had already told them that Neacal was the MacDonald chief, but his clan could handle Blackburn's men. Indeed, Korbin must've had something to do with the knaves showing up when they did. That was why he was acting strange, trying to get Neacal to leave Anna there so he could turn her over to them. There must have been reward money involved.

  "Anyway, cease your worries," Neacal said. "They're traveling away from us."

  She nodded, her brow still furrowed, anxiety dimming her green eyes.

  How could he get her to calm down and smile again? He'd even enjoyed her teasing him and wished she would do it again. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

  "Of course."

  "Well then, believe what I say. All will be well."

  Dunn sniffed at the limp rabbits he held.

  "I'll go clean the rabbits and add one to the stew."

  The dog whined, his intent eyes shifting from the rabbits to Neacal.

  "Aye, one is for you, lad. Come out to the shed with me." Neacal snatched a wooden bowl from the table and exited with the dog. He hoped Anna was less worried by the time he returned. He wanted to learn more about her situation, but would she answer his questions and reveal all her secrets?

  ***

  Closing the door, Anna pressed her head against the rough wood and said a prayer of thanks for Neacal's safe return. The work she'd done—digging and chopping the vegetables for the stew, gathering the herbs, building the fire and carrying the water—was to keep herself from going mad with worry. She'd feared he would run into Blackburn's garrison and be attacked by all of them at once.

  She released a breath and, with a long wooden spoon, stirred the large pot of chopped vegetables. She was glad to see it starting to boil. The addition of rabbit would make it perfect. When he'd said he would return with some sort of game for a stew, she hadn't doubted him. She was certain he must be an excellent hunter.

  Rain still poured down outside and the wind blew against the closed window shutters, making her glad she was inside this cozy, dry cottage. Neacal would be even wetter than he had been.

  What would it be like to spend the night here with him? Against her will, a shiver of delight coursed through her. What a terrible wanton she was, but she couldn't help herself.

  She was surprised he hadn't been angry after finding out about the mess Blackburn had forced her into. Instead, he wished to help her more. He was an amazing man.

  A quarter hour later, when Neacal returned from cleaning the rabbits in the shed, water dripped from his long, dark hair, which he had flung back from his face. She feared he would catch an ague, for the air was cooler this eve and autumn was beginning.

  "You're completely soaked now," she said. Droplets of water ran down his handsome face and dripped from the short stubbly beard on his chin. What she could see of his linen shirt clung to his chest.

  He lifted a brow, a hint of amusement lighting his eyes. "You worry about me overmuch."

  'Twas true; she did. Her face heated. "Well… I don't wish you to be sick."

  "I do believe I have a change of clothing here someplace." He glanced about the room.

  "I'm glad. Where is Dunn?"

  "In the shed, guarding. He devoured his rabbit and seemed satisfied. He'll alert us if someone approaches. He'll hear them and smell them long before we would be aware of their presence, especially if he's outside."

  That was good then, but she would be alone with Neacal again. She was unsure of their association and connection, which at times felt awkward because of how intimate they'd been at the tavern the night before. Would that happen again if she spent tonight alone with him, or something far more profound? A thrill of giddy excitement spun through her, along with annoyance at herself. Why couldn't she control her thoughts and reactions around him?

  Neacal added the cut meat into the pot with the vegetables. "I'm glad it's raining so long and hard, in truth," he said. "'Twill keep the knaves away a while longer."

  She nodded, praying they wouldn't follow. The last thing she wished to do was cause Neacal harm. Though she didn't want to surrender to the beasts, she would if that's what it took to preserve his life.

  After washing his hands in the basin in the corner that she'd filled, he strode to the trunk beside the box bed, opened it and dug inside.

  Watching the sure, confident moves of his lean, muscular body, she became almost enthralled. She could watch him all day and never grow bored.

  He pulled out a folded plaid and shirt, sniffed them, then closed the trunk. "I'm thinking one of the shepherdesses washed these before packing them away with herbs a few months ago."

  "How kind. I was glad to find the vegetables, flour, and other supplies they'd left."

  Neacal nodded, watching her. "I hope you won't mind if I get out of these wet clothes."

  "Oh." Imagining him disrobing in front of her, renewed heat flamed over Anna's face. She spun around to face the door. "Of course not. Shall I go outside?"

  "Nay, that will suffice. The rain is pouring down."

  Saints! Her whole body feeling scorched, she listened to the rattle of his belt buckle and the slide of cloth against skin. What would he look like naked? She was certain she couldn't imagine such a wickedly carnal sight. Why was she so mortified? He'd touched her in profoundly intimate ways last night. 'Haps it was because she had not touched him… he hadn't let her. She knew little about his body beyond how it felt to ride with him on the horse.

  She recalled how firm and lean he was… all over, from his arms to his waist. The muscles of his upper arms were very well developed and strong. She craved wrapping herself around him and touching him… kissing him anywhere she wished, brushing her lips down his sculpted chest.

  "Finished," he said, startling her out of her sinful daydream. Good heavens! How scandalous she was. She was supposed to be a well-mannered lady, not a wanton wench craving a man's attention.

  Hesitantly, she turned to find him fully clothed and hanging the wet plaid and shirt on a chair by the fire. So as not to devour him with her eyes, she fixed her gaze on the pot of bubbling stew, then stirred it. But he had captured her awareness. She caught a whiff of the lavender scent of his fresh clothes and even the hint of rain on his skin.

  "Smells delicious," he murmured.

  Surprised, she lifted her gaze to find him staring at the stew. But she could say the same thing about him—that he smelled delicious—but kept her lips sealed tight.

  "You impress me greatly, Anna."

  Her heartbeat quickened and she craved looking deep into his eyes, drowning in the blue darkness, but forced herself not to. "I thank you but 'twas not too difficult. You'd said you were going to bring back game for a stew, so I thought I'd help in the only way I knew how. I found peat stacked in the corner, and a flint in the cupboard. Dunn did indeed help me dig out the parsnips and turnips. I carried water in the bucket." Realizing she was anxiously prattling off a list, she snapped her mouth closed and glanced at him.

  He searched her face for a long moment. The warm but curious expression
in his eyes arrested her. "Had you ever done any of that before?" he asked. "You are a lady, after all."

  'Twas true, many people thought highborn ladies couldn't take care of themselves. Most did need a crew of servants, but she was no longer like the average lady. "Since… leaving, I've learned a great many things."

  "I admire your fortitude." His voice was a low, sensual rumble that spurred her woman's instincts. She could scarce breathe. Did he have to talk so seductively?

  "I thank you." She avoided his gaze, praying for the strength to resist him. But if he should try to kiss her… or more… she knew she couldn't refuse him. She shouldn't allow herself such wayward and immoral thoughts about him. "As for the stew," she said to distract herself, "don't be too impressed until you taste it. I did find a wee bit of salt in the cupboard. I hope that will help the flavor."

  "Can I ask you a question?" he said.

  Anxiety clutched at her stomach yet again. "Aye."

  "Why did you not tell me about Blackburn earlier? 'Haps last night?"

  Heat and shame consumed her for she knew she should have told him. 'Twas clear to her what he meant about last night… in the tavern bedchamber, after he'd asked her to marry him but before he'd touched her, before they had become so intimate. But at least it hadn't gone too far.

  She stared down at her broken nails and then bit one before she realized what she was doing. Forcing herself to stop, she clutched her hands together.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "I don't wish to upset you, but I need to know why you didn't confide in me."

  "Nay. I'm the one who is sorry. I wanted to tell you, but could not get the words out. I feared you would be angry with me."

  "Why should I be?" The look of sincere confusion on his face soothed her to an extent. He was good to the core… too good for her since she'd kept the truth from him beyond the time when he deserved it.

  "Not all people are as understanding as you are," she said. "Most would tell me to return to my husband. But I don't claim him as such." A shiver of revulsion coursed through her body.

  "Of course not. You were forced into it," he grumbled. "'Tis not a legal marriage."

  "I hope you're right."

  "I'll take it before the king if I must," he said in a hard tone. "I used to do work for him."

  "In truth?" She searched his face. Why was he willing to go to such effort? Did he wish to marry her that badly himself? How she wished he could be successful in proving her marriage a farce. She would then be free to marry Neacal, if he still wanted her… and if his clan accepted her.

  "Of course. Is Blackburn a member of the nobility?"

  "Nay, he is only a chief who forced his way into that position. My late husband had an heir, a nephew of sixteen summers, who was denied the role of chief. Blackburn threatened to kill him if he didn't step aside."

  "Why did the clan allow it?" Neacal asked, unable to believe how the bastard had run rough-shod over the entire clan.

  "Blackburn threatened their families and their food supply."

  Neacal cursed under his breath. "An underhanded leader will not stand for long."

  "I'd hoped the clan would force him out, but they fear him and the dozens of men he brought with him."

  Neacal shook his head. "Such injustice," he muttered, hoping he would have the opportunity to right the many wrongs this Blackburn brute had committed. First and foremost, he was raring to help Anna wrest herself free of the bastard. She had already said Blackburn had murdered her first husband. Neacal wanted to know what happened but didn't want to distress her by asking for details. Still, he was deeply curious about the man and whether he had treated her well. "Was your first husband a good chief?" he asked instead.

  "Aye." Anna gave a sad smile. "He was much admired and respected."

  "And was he a good husband to you?"

  Sudden tears glistened in her eyes and she dropped her gaze.

  Damnation, he had not wanted to make her sad. "I'm sorry I asked. You don't have to answer that."

  She shook her head and swallowed. "'Tis all right. I don't mind telling you my husband was a very good man, kind and generous to everyone, and I loved him. 'Twas an arranged marriage; he was eight years my senior. He said he fell in love with me when first he laid eyes on me. I soon grew to love him, too." Anna's expression shifted from a sad, bittersweet smile to clenched-jaw fury. "Every time I remember how that blackguard murdered him, I want to commit murder myself."

  "How did it happen?" he asked carefully, not wanting to upset her more, but needing to know the type of outlaw he was dealing with.

  "Blackburn and his men came for a visit, pretending to be friendly. After supper, Blackburn asked my husband, John, if he could speak to him in private. He agreed. They were cousins and had spoken in private many times, so no questions were raised. 'Twas late and I was tired. I went to bed but was soon awakened by my maid, who was in tears, blabbering about John being found… stabbed in the library." Anna's voice sounded choked and tears glistened in her eyes.

  "Saints," Neacal hissed, his heart breaking for her. He wanted to take her hand and rub it, offering comfort, but feared 'twould only distract her.

  "No one saw Blackburn do the deed but, of course, he had. Who else? John's bodyguard, who'd waited outside the door, said Blackburn was the only other person in the room. But the guard had heard nothing. Before anyone knew he'd done it, Blackburn walked away, took his men and left. The guard waited outside the door, but when John didn't emerge within the hour, he went in and found him slumped over."

  Neacal muttered a curse.

  Her brows furrowed, Anna blotted her tears with a handkerchief. "The day after the funeral, Blackburn made his intentions known. John's heir, his nephew, was not yet grown into a man. 'Twas too easy for Blackburn to take control. Rumors circulated that he'd threatened to kill the lad if he didn't step aside. I was… with child." Anna dropped her gaze and he thought he'd misunderstood.

  Neacal swallowed hard. "Did you say with child?"

  "Aye. Seven months along," Anna whispered, fresh tears trailing down her cheeks.

  Neacal's breath froze within his chest. He didn't want to ask what happened next, for he feared he already knew the answer. "You don't have to—"

  "Nay, I wish you to know what sort of monster Blackburn is." Her dark and anguished gaze held him in place and her hands, holding the handkerchief, trembled. "He would not allow me to leave and go to my family. He is a strange man… he looked at me with a mixture of lust and repugnance. He feared I carried a boy, you see, John's heir. He grew angry and shoved me down the stairs. That was when…"

  Neacal leaned closer and drew Anna into his arms, hoping to silence her. "You don't have to go on if you don't wish to." He didn't want to put her through the pain of it again.

  "Nay." She shook her head against him, then drew back. "You have to know the truth. I was hurt, bruised up. My back, my side. A few minutes later, I started having contractions. 'Twas too early, of course. The tiny babe was born but could not survive. I held her in my arms as she drew her last breath."

  Tears burning his own eyes, Neacal pulled her back to him, willing her to stop, for she was ripping his heart out. Holding her head against his chest, he stroked her hair. They remained that way for long moments.

  Finally, Anna sniffled and sat up straight, drying her eyes. "Blackburn not only took my beloved husband but also our only child. I wanted to kill him," she said through clenched teeth. "But I was too injured to leave the bed for weeks. I'd lost a lot of blood and had fevers."

  "You won't have to kill him. I'll do it for you," Neacal vowed. Anna was like an earth-bound angel and any man who treated her that way, practically destroying her, deserved the worst sort of death. Even the torture Neacal had endured would be too good for the man. "Why was the murder not reported to the authorities?"

  "There was no proof he'd done it. No witnesses to the murder itself. Besides, rumor has it Blackburn slipped the constable money under the table."


  Neacal shook his head, though he was not surprised. There was much corruption everywhere.

  "I was getting better," Anna continued. "But still wasn't very strong, when he decided he wanted to marry me."

  "Why, after he'd treated you so horribly?"

  "I think it was because he wanted to own and possess everything that John had. He'd always been jealous of him."

  Neacal nodded. He'd met that type of greedy whoreson before.

  "He knew I hated him and wouldn't agree to marry him. So… he brought in his priest, whom he'd paid a great sum of money, no doubt. A priest who was completely loyal to him. When I refused to make any vows before the priest, Blackburn pulled out his dirk and grabbed my younger sister, Kristina. Being the powder keg that she is, she struggled against him. During the scuffle, he sliced her face. It bled terribly. He said if I wouldn't marry him, he would slit her throat next."

  Neacal muttered a curse. The bastard was equal to MacRankin in his evil ruthlessness.

  "Blackburn told the guard to hold the knife to Kristina's throat," Anna continued. "He ordered me to agree to the vows or Kristina would be dead. I had already lost my husband and my babe. I couldn't lose my sister, too, so I agreed. After the ceremony, Kristina called him a bastard. He shoved her against the wall, no doubt hoping to kill her. Her head hit the stone hard and she was knocked out."

  "Damnation," Neacal breathed, unable to believe what a string of tragedies had befallen her, all from the same monster.

  "Kristina's head injury was so severe, she went blind. I feared Blackburn would kill her when next he saw her, and mayhap me, too. So one night, while he was away for three days, we slipped off. I took my sister to my aunt, several miles south, in Stirling. When we learned that Blackburn was searching for me, I left Kristina there and headed out on my own to draw him away from her."

  "What about the clan you were born into? Would they not help you?"

  "The MacQueen clan." She shook her head. "The current chief and baron is a very distant cousin, more like a stranger to me, really. He wants naught more to do with Kristina or me. When my father passed, the new laird wanted us out. I was already betrothed to John at the time, so we moved up the wedding and I took Kristina with me."