Highland Lover

by Hannah Howell

  And if she did love him, that love would be sorely tested in the next few days. He would probably have to leave her in Fiona’s care while he went to speak to Mavis and her father and he would not be able to tell her why he was leaving her alone so quickly after reaching Scarglas. There were also his two bastard sons waiting for him at home. That was something he should have mentioned, and could have, but he had been so concerned about keeping Alana yet not committing himself to her until he was free that he had never given a thought to mentioning his children. It was too late to do so now, for he had no time to softly, subtly prepare her for such news or say the words that could ease her concerns over his lecherous past.

  Well, he would deal with it all when he got there, he decided. Since she would need to rest, Alana would not be able to run off. That would give him time to deal with the Kerrs and then woo Alana with all the words he had been keeping inside him for so long. It was a tangle he could easily drive himself mad thinking about, so he would deal with it all as it happened and hope that Alana loved and needed him at her side enough to be forgiving.

  Alana winced as the horse moved a little faster and jarred her more in the saddle. The way Gregor held her eased some of the discomfort, but after hours of riding, there was not much that could help except a nice soft bed. Sleeping for several hours had been a blessing and renewed her strength a little, but now she ached so badly she knew she could not seek that respite again. They had stopped a few times so that she could stretch her aching legs, but that had only made getting back on the horse harder each time. Now she just wanted to get to Scarglas and go lie down.

  “Scarglas is just on the other side of those trees,” Gregor said.

  “Oh, how wonderful,” she murmured.

  “I would be verra pleased and flattered if I actually thought ye were speaking just of seeing my home, but I ken ye are thinking of a soft bed.”

  She laughed. “Aye, and a long hot bath.”

  “And ye shall have both as quickly as I can get them for ye.”

  “That will be pure bliss.”

  “Ye havenae noticed any new pains, have ye?”

  “Nay, just the ones I started out with. I think I am safe from any complications. I am exactly as we thought I was—bruised and scraped and nay more.”

  Gregor nodded as he reined in the horse. “There is Scarglas.”

  Alana stared at the dark, forbidding fortress ahead of them. Even if she had not heard Gregor’s tales of the troubled years now thankfully in the past, she would have known that the men of Scarglas were men of war, willingly or not. It was buit for defense. Even the approach to the place was littered with ways to hold back an enemy.

  “’Tisnae a verra pretty place,” he murmured as he nudged the horse into a gentle trot.

  “Nay, but it was safe, wasnae it,” she said.

  “Aye, it was. And although my brother Ewan has defeated or wooed most of our enemies, we will keep it like this. The future could hold troubles that cannae be fought successfully or ended with a treaty.”

  “After all ye have told me about how it used to be, I suspicion none of ye will e’er grow lax in making sure your home can be defended against all comers.”

  “Nay, ’tis a lesson one ne’er forgets.”

  “That isnae such a bad thing, Gregor,” she said quietly.

  “Nay, mayhap it isnae.” He certainly liked knowing that she would be safe behind those dark walls.

  Before Alana could think of any questions to ask about the people she was about to meet, they were riding into a very crowded inner bailey. Gregor was quickly surrounded by a horde of dark, handsome men all asking questions at the same time. It was clear to see that most of them were his brothers and she had to marvel at his father’s virility. It was also a little unsettling to be surrounded by so many men who bore such a striking resemblance to Gregor.

  When he helped her down from the horse and introduced her, the sudden silence was even more unsettling. The crowd of MacFingals began to slowly thin out, one after another of the men slipping away. A quick glance at Gregor revealed him frowning, looking as puzzled and suspicious as she felt. Since none of these men knew her, Alana could not believe she was the cause of the silent retreat.

  Gregor watched all of his brothers slip away muttering a few welcomes to Alana and saying they would see him in the great hall later. Something was amiss, but it was obvious none of them wanted to tell him what. Everything had been as chaotic as normal until he had introduced Alana. For a moment they had all stared at him as if they recognized something in the way he said her name and held her close to his side, and then the retreat had begun. It made no sense and he knew he would get no answers from them, even if he chased after them.

  “Do ye need me to carry ye inside, lass?” he asked, turning his attention to Alana.

  “Nay,” she replied. “I can make it on my own. Weel, on my own with your help.”

  “Then let us go and see if we can find out what has made my brothers all flee us as if we carry the plague.”

  She laughed and leaned against him as he helped her into the keep. Once inside, some of the dark, forbidding air of Scarglas faded. Alana suspected Fiona had been busy softening the hard edges of what had been nearly an all-male household. There was light, tapestries, and cushions upon the chairs flanking the alms table.

  As if her thoughts of the woman were a command, Fiona strode out of the great hall and gaped at Gregor. She then turned her gaze on Alana. Although she smiled in greeting, there was a wariness in her expression that made Alana nervous. Something was indeed going on at Scarglas, and even though she could think of no reason why, she seemed to be part of the trouble. Alana wondered if her brothers had come here looking for her and offended everyone.

  “Ye remember Alana Murray, dinnae ye, Fiona?” Gregor asked.

  “Aye, although it has been years since we have seen each other.”

  Before anything else could be said, a plump, pretty young woman hurried out of the great hall. Realizing the way she was tucked under Gregor’s arm and held close by his side, Alana carefully stepped away from him. She frowned up at him when she noticed that he was standing very still, his body had tensed, and he was gaping at the woman who had just come out of the great hall.

  Before she could ask Gregor anything, a burly man with gray hair and a scowl on his face came out and stood next to the young woman. “’Tis past time ye wandered home, lad,” he snapped. “We heard ye had disappeared near a fortnight ago and have been waiting here to find out what happened to ye for a sennight now. Naturally, as your betrothed wife, Mavis felt it was her duty to be here, waiting with your family to find out if ye were alive or dead.”

  Out of all the man said, only one word truly concerned Alana. It struck her like a dagger to the heart. She was so shocked, so hurt, she barely flinched when the young woman flung herself into Gregor’s arms. Alana fleetingly thought that this was a very poor way to find out that she had been an utter fool. She looked at Gregor and fixed her mind on that one word, needing him to immediately accept or deny the title.

  Chapter 16

  “Betrothed?”

  It was not only astonishment over how much fury could be contained in that one word that caused Gregor to look over Mavis’s head and meet Alana’s gaze. He wanted to ease what must appear to be a gross betrayal with a look or a few words. With Mavis clinging to him it was impossible to say anything, however. The way Alana was looking at him, as if he was lower than a worm, told him she was in no mood to listen to him anyway.

  And why was Mavis even here? he thought. He had issued no invitation. Gregor was certain he had made it clear that he would return to her once he had spoken to his family. He had been most careful not to make any unbreakable promises. There had been no papers signed, no betrothal ceremony, and no proposal made. Expectations had been raised, he could not deny that, but although there might be some hard feelings stirred over his not meeting those expectations, he had thought he could back away
from them with quiet dignity.

  Now he stood with a woman in his arms he did not want, while the one he wanted looked as if she would welcome a chance to gut him. Worse, he could not humiliate Mavis by loudly disputing her claim to him. Expectations might not be promises, but since he had been the one to raise them with his courtship and talks with her father, he owed Mavis a gentle, private explanation for why matters between them had changed.

  “When we didnae hear from ye for so verra long, we were most concerned,” said Mavis as she stepped back a little.

  Gregor opened his mouth to speak only to realize that he did not know what to say. His family and Mavis’s father were beginning to look at him with suspicion. He looked helplessly at Fiona. She glared at him but, to his great relief, quickly moved to Alana’s side.

  “Come with me, Mistress Murray,” said Fiona as she hooked her arm through Alana’s. “Ye must be sorely tired. I suspicion ye would like a bath as weel, aye?”

  “Aye,” replied Alana, allowing Fiona to lead her away.

  Alana felt dazed and a little numb. The fury that had swept over Alana when that woman had greeted Gregor so lovingly and laid claim to him had slowly left her. When it did, it seemed to have taken every other emotion with it, leaving only a stunned realization that she had been the greatest of fools. Gregor belonged to someone else and could never be hers. She hoped she stayed numb, for she feared there was a searing pain lurking beneath that chill.

  Fiona shaking her slightly brought Alana to her senses, and she realized they were inside a bedchamber. “Oh. ’Tis a verra fine room.”

  “Satan’s teeth, Alana, ye act as though ye have been knocked on the head.”

  “Oh, ye just called me Alana, nay Mistress Murray. So, ye remember me now?”

  “I remembered ye before.” Fiona shrugged. “I just thought it suited the moment to be more formal.”

  “Ah, I suppose it did.” Increasingly aware of how her body ached, Alana moved to the bed and sat down, letting Charlemagne out of the sack so that he could explore their new home.

  “Why are ye limping?” asked Fiona as she moved to scratch the cat’s ears.

  “Weel, there was a wee confrontation with some thieves and I had a fall. ’Tis but a wide collection of bruises and scrapes.”

  “Let me be the judge of that.”

  Before Alana could protest, Fiona was unlacing her clothes and demanding the full story about the thieves. Eager to keep her mind off Gregor’s betrayal, Alana complied. It was not until she was bathed, dressed in a clean shift, and all her little wounds salved that she began to suspect Fiona had skillfully aided her in keeping her mind occupied. By the look upon Fiona’s face, however, that reprieve was over. With a heavy sigh, Alana sat on a stool before the fireplace.

  “I think that tale about the thieves is but one of many ye have to tell,” Fiona said as she began to gently brush the snarls from Alana’s wet hair. “How long have ye and Gregor been together?”

  “Too long, and yet he ne’er mentioned he was betrothed.” Alana inwardly cursed, for even she could hear the hurt and anger behind her words. She did not need the knowing look upon Fiona’s face to tell her she had given herself away. “It matters not. I will join Keira as soon as possible and—”

  “Ye are going nowhere until those bruises fade a wee bit. Just because ye were fortunate enough to nay break any bones doesnae mean ye are hale enough to ride off again.”

  “I rode here—” Alana began.

  “As ye had to, although a litter would have been much wiser. Your body took a beating. Ye need to let it rest.”

  “If I go to Keira, she can help and I can rest once I reach her keep.”

  “And I will be verra fortunate if she doesnae come right here to give me the sharp edge of her tongue for letting ye leave your bed and bounce about on the back of a horse. Ye had to do so to get here, but ye dinnae have to do so to then travel to her side.”

  “I could ride in a cart.”

  Fiona crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at Alana. “Nay. I assume ye have learned all that has happened concerning Keira, so ye must ken that she has work aplenty to do without ye adding to it. Now, as I finish brushing dry your hair, ye can tell me what ye and Gregor have been doing these last few weeks and why ye both looked so wretchedly unhappy to see Mavis.”

  “He was embracing her,” Alana muttered. “He couldnae be that unhappy.”

  “Tell me what has happened to you and I shall tell ye anything ye may wish to hear about Keira.”

  Alana thought about refusing again and then decided it would be useless. Fiona was determined and, from what she could recall of the woman, a determined Fiona was a mighty force to be reckoned with. As Alana told her tale, she did her best to try to avoid all hint that she and Gregor had become lovers, as well as any indication of the feelings she had for him. A few covert glances at Fiona told Alana that she was probably tying her tongue into knots for nothing. Fiona appeared to be rapidly filling in all the holes Alana had left in her story.

  “Weel, ye have certainly had an adventure,” Fiona said when Alana was finished. “Ye have also answered a question or two I have had concerning this betrothal between Gregor and Mavis.”

  “How did I do that? I didnae e’en mention the lying swine’s betrothal.” And Alana heartily wished no one else would, either, for she could feel all the hurt inside of her writhing to be set free.

  Fiona pulled up a stool and sat down facing Alana. “But that is just it, ye see.”

  “Nay, nary a glimmer.”

  “Gregor isnae a lying swine. Oh, he is as big a rutting fool as the rest of these MacFingals, but he is an honest mon. True, there must be some reason Mavis’s father claims a betrothal, and Gregor was on the hunt for a wife, but I feel verra sure he would ne’er break a vow if he made one. When Mavis and her father arrived and talked of a betrothal, we were all puzzled, for Gregor hadnae sent word to us and we were all certain that he would.”

  “He was riding home to Scarglas. Mayhap it was to tell ye that he had finally chosen his bride.” Alana heard her voice waver as she spoke that last word and reached out for that anger or that numbness that had thus far shielded her from pain.

  “Mayhap, but he looked completely stunned, and then, weel, upset. Verra upset.”

  “Wheesht, of course he looked upset. He was just caught out, wasnae he.”

  “I dinnae think so. Oh, I suspect a betrothal was talked about between the men, but I truly dinnae think it was settled. Mavis’s father would like it to be and that may be why he speaks so boldly, as if all were settled and done, but I dinnae think so. Nay, kenning Gregor as I do, I think he was coming here to think on it all, mayhap e’en talk it all o’er with Ewan. This wasnae a match born of passion or love, so I feel certain Gregor would step carefully nay matter what he would gain from the marriage.”

  That did sound like Gregor, Alana thought and then hastily pushed that thought aside. Fiona was offering hope and Alana did not dare grasp at it. She still had not dealt with the hurt of seeing another woman claim Gregor. If she let hope seep into her heart and it proved fruitless, the pain that would bring her did not bear thinking on. There was also the fact that Gregor had never once hinted that he was not a free man. It was a lie of silence, but it was still a lie. That made her wonder just how many other lies he had told her.

  “Weel, it doesnae matter. Gregor and I were but prisoners and then travelers together,” Alana said.

  “Ye are a verra poor liar, Alana Murray. I dinnae ask that ye confess all that passed between ye and Gregor, but I dinnae believe ye were naught but fellow prisoners who escaped together and then made your way here. If naught else, the look upon Gregor’s face when Mavis appeared tells me that the two of ye shared far more than a cell and a horse.”

  “Whate’er we shared is now over. He is to be wed to Mavis.”

  Fiona rose and braided Alana’s hair. “We shall see. Now, do ye want to hide here in this room or shall ye come down to
the great hall to sup with us?”

  “I thought ye said I needed to take good care of my poor, battered self.”

  “I said ye shouldnae be traveling about and adding to your many bruises. Donning a gown, coming down to the great hall, and eating something willnae add to your injuries.”

  The very last thing Alana wished to do was sit at a table and watch Gregor with his betrothed. It might not add to all the bruises and scrapes she had, but it would certainly add to her pain. Yet her pride quailed at the thought of hiding in her bedchamber as if she had done something wrong. Such a cowardly act would also tell Gregor that he had hurt her, and she did not want him to know that she felt anything more than a righteous fury over his lies. It would mean she could not succumb to all the feelings churning inside of her, but if she clung to her anger she might be able to hide her pain from everyone for a few more hours.

  “I doubt I shall be able to eat much,” she said and could tell by Fiona’s smile that the woman recognized those grumbled words for the acceptance she had been waiting for.

  Gregor ached to go after Alana and try to explain things, but he knew he could not do so. It was also going to be difficult to deal with Mavis and her father for a while. Not only were there too many people around, he needed to think carefully about exactly what he should say to Mavis. After assuring her that he was well, Gregor escaped to his bedchamber to bathe and don some clean clothes. He was not really surprised when, within minutes after he had finished his bath, his brother Ewan arrived.

  “Ye arenae acting much like a mon who has finally found the lass he wishes to marry,” said Ewan as he sprawled on Gregor’s bed.

  “Ah, but I have,” said Gregor as he began to dress. “Unfortunately, it isnae Mavis Kerr.”

  “Nay? She and her father feel verra certain that it is. If ye werenae certain yourself, ye shouldnae have gotten yourself betrothed to the lass.”

  “Actually, I didnae. I did court her, and her father and I talked round it a few times, that I cannae deny. I didnae ask for her hand, however, nor did I put my mark on any papers. In truth, I was coming here to talk it o’er with ye and think on it verra carefully ere I made any vows. The Gowans interfered with that plan.”