My Highland Lover (Highland Hearts)

by Maeve Greyson

  Trulie glanced over at Granny and Coira standing beside the hearth. They shrugged in unison and nodded for Trulie to take the lead and explain.

  Wonderful. Trulie stood taller, clasped her hands behind her back, and eased toward Aileas. How in the world was she going to explain to Aileas that her son had bitten off more than he could chew when he decided to bully a mentally imbalanced maid into giving him sex?

  “Well?” Aileas swiped a hand through the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Tell me. All of it.”

  “Do you recall a servant named Beala?” Trulie waited a moment for Aileas to respond. The snuffling woman ignored her, just kept her hand pressed to her son’s cheek. Trulie cleared her throat and spoke louder. “I think she helped keep your rooms before she came to take care of ours.” Trulie moved closer. Maybe if she circled around where she could see Aileas’s face, the telling might be easier. Trulie wet her lips and cleared her throat. “She’s a small woman and walks with a strange rolling gait. Kind of blondish—”

  “I ken who she is.” Aileas spit the words with such hatred Trulie jumped back a step. “What about her?” Aileas yanked the bedclothes back from Fearghal’s collapsed chest before Trulie could continue. “Surely, that worthless chit couldna do this to m’son.”

  Where the crap was Gray when she needed him? Trulie cast a quick glance back at the door, wishing Gray would appear.

  “Well?” Aileas hoisted her girth up from the edge of the bed and faced Trulie.

  Trulie took a deep breath. There was no easy way to tell this, so she might as well jump in with both feet. “It appears Fearghal threatened to have Beala turned out if she didn’t sleep with him.” Trulie paused a second then blurted out the rest. “But evidently, after she gave in, in some weird twisted sort of way, Beala fell in love with Fearghal and wanted him to marry her because she was pregnant…or maybe she wanted them to get married before she got pregnant. I’m not sure about that part, but Fearghal must have refused…” Dammit. Could she sound any more idiotic?

  The look of pure hatred on Aileas’s face ended Trulie’s babbling.

  This was not going well at all. “Anyway,” Trulie continued. “We don’t know for sure how, but Beala must have lured Fearghal down to a hidden chamber.” Trulie glanced over at the dying man in the bed. “She succeeded in chaining him to the wall. And she kept him there with almost no food or water…for quite a while.”

  All the color drained from Aileas’s face as tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped from her jowls. Spreading the squares of linen between her hands, she mopped the bits of cloth across her face. “Where is my son’s tormentor now?” she finally choked out as she blew her nose hard into the rag.

  “We have her locked in a room where she can’t hurt herself…or anyone else.” Trulie forced herself not to cringe from Aileas’s sharp look.

  “I would see her.” Aileas huffed and muttered under her breath as she plowed across the room. “Tell the MacKenna I would see his prisoner immediately.” She didn’t wait for Trulie’s response before flouncing from the room.

  —

  “Who are ye and why are ye here?” Gray barred the man from passing through the archway. He recognized him as the smithy’s helper—the man who had come to MacKenna keep along with the rest of Lady Aileas’s possessions. He wanted to hear what the man had to say. There were too damn many secrets in this keep and verra few people he trusted anymore.

  “I am Gaedric.” The man respectfully tucked his chin and kept his gaze trained on the floor. “The Lady Aileas was and always will be the honored daughter of m’clan. I would…serve her.” The man shuffled uncomfortably and bobbed his head lower. “If the MacKenna sees fit for me to do so since she has returned.”

  Gray studied the man. He seemed honest. Humble even. Gray admired loyalty, even to one as undeserving as Aileas. “The Lady Aileas will no’ be here long. And what of the smithy? Are ye no’ bound to him?” Gray was curious to hear how the man would explain leaving his current station.

  The man shifted from side to side. His large hands nervously plucked at the tattered hem of his stained tunic. “I would serve the lady for as long as ye see fit. The smithy says I am free t’do so. He says he no longer has use for a cripple with few skills.”

  Gray made a mental note to pay a visit to the smithy. Perhaps the coarse man of steel could use a lesson in compassion. Gray understood the smithy’s perspective, but there was ne’er a need to be cruel. “I ha’ no problem with ye servin’ the Lady Aileas while she abides here. But I must warn ye, after her son dies, she returns to her confinement.”

  Gaedric flinched as though Gray had struck him. He glanced up with watery, bloodshot eyes filled with emotions Gray didn’t understand. “Her son will no’ get well?”

  “Nay.” Gray turned and motioned for Gaedric to follow. “Come. Ye can join yer mistress once we have seen to her request to question her son’s murderer.”

  Gray paused as he reached the first landing in the staircase. “Gaedric, come. Now, man.” Gray waited until Gaedric hesitantly moved forward and hefted his way up the first few steps.

  Finally. The man appeared to have decided it was proper to follow. Perhaps the smithy had not been so far from the mark in his summary of Gaedric.

  Gray dreaded the chore set before him. Aileas wanted to see Beala and by rights as Fearghal’s mother, Gray couldna deny her. He scrubbed a hand over his tired eyes. Lore, he would be glad when all this was over. He hoped Aileas wished to take Fearghal’s body with her. In fact, he would suggest it. What better way to rid MacKenna keep of the wickedness Aileas and her son had stirred?

  Trulie met him at the top of the stair. The love shining in her eyes was all that gave him strength. Gray held out a hand and felt the tension slip away as Trulie slid her hand into his. Blessed be Tamhas and Granny Sinclair for bringing this woman to him.

  “Fearghal will be gone by sunset,” Trulie whispered. “Death rattles in his lungs.”

  “Aye.” Gray sucked in a deep breath as he tucked Trulie’s arm against his side. What else could he say? No love or even basic respect had ever existed between himself and Fearghal. He regretted the coward had suffered such an end. But from what he gathered, Fearghal had chosen his destiny by his actions. Gray believed in accountability for choices made and Fearghal’s situation confirmed that conviction.

  “Who is that?” Trulie whispered with a glance down the staircase.

  “Aileas’s most loyal servant.” Gray actually felt sorry for the woman who had cursed him with so many unpleasant hours. “He will more than likely join her retinue when she returns to sanctuary.”

  “The chieftain has stated I may question the prisoner.” Aileas’s loud, unpleasant voice boomed down the corridor.

  Gray sucked in another deep breath as they rounded the corner. Lore, he felt as though he walked toward his own end. Two burly warriors barred Aileas from the room where they had placed Beala. They stood broad shoulder to broad shoulder with arms crossed and eyes fixed straight ahead.

  Aileas waited with fists clenched just below her sagging bosom. Her expression soured even further when her gaze fell first on Trulie and then on Gaedric. She jerked her chin toward them. “Those two have no right here.”

  Gray halted and slid his other hand atop Trulie’s where she held on to his arm. “My betrothed has every right because I say it is so.” He glared at red-faced Aileas, daring her to argue.

  Aileas motioned toward Gaedric with a flip of her hand. “And him? He has no duty here.”

  “On the contrary,” Gray replied. “Gaedric has sworn fealty to ye and yer father’s clan. Ye should be honored by his presence.”

  Aileas huffed a disgusted breath as she whirled back and faced the stoic guards. “I have no time for such. Now, do ye mean to allow me to pass or no’?”

  Gray motioned to the guard on the left. “Open the door.”

  As the door swung open, Beala hopped down from the wide stone seat located below the room’s high, nar
row window. Her thin hands fluttered nervously up and down the wrinkled folds of her plain linen shift.

  When Gray bent and entered the room, Beala’s sunken eyes rounded even wider in her pale, drawn face. Her bare feet slapped against the floor as she skittered to the farthest corner with her odd hitching run. “Ye must no’ touch me. Fearghal is m’husband!”

  “Lying bitch!” Aileas roared as she exploded into the room. Gray grabbed her arm and held her back as she strained to reach the girl.

  “Get behind me,” Gray hissed to Trulie.

  Gaedric limped his way into the room after them. The agitated man looked around, then moved to stand beside Gray. “Yer woman will be safe behind us.”

  “Leave hold a my arm.” Aileas twisted against Gray’s grasp. “Leave hold a me now.”

  “I said ye could come and question the girl. I ne’er gave permission to attack her.” Gray yanked Aileas back and brought his face close to hers. “If ye move to harm her again I shall have the guards remove ye.”

  Aileas’s bloodshot eyes narrowed as her gaze darted first to Gray, then toward the corner where Beala cowered. “Agreed,” she finally said.

  Gray forced himself not to recoil. For the thousandth time since he had known Aileas, he wondered how the hell his father had ever married such a vile woman. He released her arm and eased back a step. “Ye may question the woman. That is all.”

  Aileas jerked the wrinkles from her sleeve and smoothed her thick hands down her skirts. She straightened her broad, rounded shoulders and walked slowly toward Beala.

  Beala crouched behind the upended cot she had pulled to the corner. The closer Aileas approached, the higher the young girl peeped from behind her barricade. A smile lit up her small, pinched face. “Mother Aileas.” Beala cackled and clapped her hands together with chilling excitement. “Have ye finally come t’praise me for helpin’ ye and m’lovely Fearghal?”

  “Shut yer maw.” Aileas sliced a shaking fist through the air. “Keep yer vile mouth closed. No one wishes t’hear yer lies.”

  The smile faded from Beala’s face. A worried frown replaced it. “But I set the fires just as ye asked. The evil woman in the tower died so she canna cast n’more spells upon the keep.” Beala crept from behind the cot, her hands twisting in front of her rounded belly. “And now Fearghal can be chief. I made certain old MacKenna could nay escape the judgement of the flames either.” Beala’s voice settled into an eerie singsong chant. “Old MacKenna and his witch are dancin’ wi’ the devil. Old MacKenna and his whore are gone t’the fiery pits o’ hell.”

  Aileas plunged forward, wrapped her pudgy hands around Beala’s throat, and shoved her backward. Beala crumpled beneath Aileas’s weight. As Aileas landed atop the girl, she repeatedly bashed Beala’s head back against the hard floor. “Shut it, vile bitch. I told ye hold yer tongue!”

  “The babe,” Beala choked out as she squirmed beneath Aileas’s weight. “Take care lest ye kill Fearghal’s babe.” She rasped and coughed, weakly flailing against Aileas’ attack.

  Gray charged forward, only to be yanked back by Gaedric’s iron grasp. The man’s face had turned blood red; his eyes glittered wild and crazed. Gray fell back to Trulie, spreading his arms to shield her from any attack.

  But Gaedric didn’t turn on him. Gaedric lumbered around and plowed his way to Aileas. He sank one hand in her knotted hair and yanked her away from Beala’s limp and bloodied body.

  Aileas screamed and clawed at Gaedric’s arm as he threw her back against the opposite wall. He spread one hand across her throat and pinned her to the stones beneath the window. “Ye kilt m’only son. Our son. Ye kilt him with yer infernal plottin’. Why could ye no’ be happy with yer lot in life?”

  “Ye think I would have m’clan see I gave birth to the son of a crippled simpleton?” Aileas sputtered, and clawed at Gaedric’s arm with both hands. “Ye should thank the gods m’wicked father allowed ye t’live. I told him ye took me by force after he did.”

  “I loved ye.” Gaedric’s face crumpled and he sobbed out a groan as his left hand joined his right around Aileas’s throat. “And now I’m cursed wi’ the blood of honorable people because I listened to ye and didna lift a hand to stop ye from yer evil ways.”

  “He’s gonna kill her,” Trulie whispered in a horrified gasp behind Gray.

  “Let him,” Gray growled in response. “He has earned the right.”

  Gaedric roared out another broken sob as he slammed Aileas back against the wall. Aileas sputtered, her face bloodred as she strained against the attack. She brought her boot up hard between Gaedric’s legs. As his grip loosened from around her throat, she dug her thumbs into his eyes.

  Gaedric bellowed in pain as he staggered back, one arm clamped across his eyes and one hand clutching his crotch.

  Aileas screamed and charged forward, both hands raised to attack him again.

  Gray shoved Trulie back in the corner. “Stay,” he ordered. A red haze filled his senses as bloodlust pounded in his ears. He grabbed Aileas by the hair and yanked her off Gaedric. Just as she rolled to attack Gray, he pressed the point of his dirk against the folds of her double chin. “Gi’ me one reason why I should nay slit yer throat for ye.”

  Aileas’s beady-eyed gaze darted from side to side as she stilled in Gray’s hands. Her gasping wheezes echoed through the chamber as she held her hands in the air with fingers outstretched. “Forgive,” she finally sputtered with a heaving breath. “Forgive.”

  “I beg ye, Chieftain. I beg ye…dinna kill her.” Gaedric fell to his knees beside Gray and raised his clasped hands upward. “I beg ye let her live.”

  “Knowing all she has done, ye still wish her to live?” Gray couldna believe the man kneeling at his feet could be so blind.

  “There are many punishments worse than death,” Trulie murmured from the corner. The calm serenity of her tone held Gray’s inner beast in check.

  Gray yanked Aileas’s head back farther and pressed the knife to her flesh until a single crimson drop of blood beaded up and trickled down the length of his blade. Aileas sucked in a hitching breath and squinted her eyes shut.

  “Please, great MacKenna.” Gaedric pawed at Gray’s elbow. “ ’Tis no’ her fault. Her cruel father made her what she is. I beg ye…I will take her to the Isle of Man. There are places there. Remote places. She will ne’er do harm again. I swear it.”

  Gray stared at his bloodstained blade. It would be so easy to slit the bitch’s throat and silence her without question.

  “Gray.” Trulie’s quiet plea reached him. “Listen to Gaedric. I don’t want her blood on your hands.”

  Gray forced his gaze away from the knife and locked eyes with Trulie. How could she expect him to let the bitch go?

  “Please,” Trulie whispered.

  “Guard.” Gray yanked Aileas around and held her at arm’s length. When his men entered the room, he shoved her toward them. “Bind her and leave her locked in this room until I give the order. She will be leaving with Gaedric as soon as he’s readied for his journey.”

  “Thank ye, m’lord.” Gaedric kissed the hem of Gray’s plaid before he rose and took hold of Aileas’s wrists.

  Gray pulled away from Gaedric’s fawning with a single shake of his head. “I advise ye to kill the wicked bitch afore she kills ye first.”

  Then he held out a hand to Trulie and led her from the room.

  —

  Trulie hugged the light wrap close about her as the wind moaned through the bailey. The blinding sun, high in the bright-blue sky brought no warmth today. Heart heavy, Trulie watched as Gray oversaw the pair of shrouded bodies loaded into the back of the wagon. His face was cold. Expressionless. Gray looked years older than the first time she had set eyes on him just a few short months ago.

  Gaedric sat on the wagon’s seat, the slack reins wrapped around one hand. Aileas, puffed up and silent with wrists still bound, sat beside him. The wagon creaked as the last of the supplies were loaded around Fearghal and Beala’s rem
ains.

  Gray nodded once to Gaedric, then turned and plodded up the stone steps. Trulie’s heart ached even more. She wished there had been a way to spare him all this pain.

  Gaedric clucked to the horses and slapped the reins across their backs. The wagon groaned as it shifted forward and started its last journey from MacKenna keep.

  “And so it ends.” Gray’s voice rumbled deep and weary as they watched the wagon creak and sway across the courtyard and pass through the outer gate.

  Trulie slid her arms through his and hugged her cheek against him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry all this happened.”

  Gray took her hand and lifted it to his lips. “Without ye here…” His voice broke, and rasped lower as he closed his eyes and pressed her hand to his cheek. “I ne’er would ha’ survived it,” he finished in a strained whisper.

  “I wish you never had to endure it.” Trulie wrapped her arms around him and snuggled her cheek against his chest. Dammit, I wish I could erase your mind. She and Granny had discussed doing that very thing to relieve Gray’s pain. But they’d both sensed the same eerie knowing, the knowing sent from the Fates. Gray’s memories were to be kept intact. For some inexplicable reason, Gray needed this pain. Damn the Fates and their cruel rules.

  Gray held her tight as he rested his chin atop her head. One of his hands idly caressed a path up and down her spine. “Ah…but then, who knows if Fate would ha’ seen fit to bring us together.”

  “Fate, or Granny and Tamhas?”

  “Either.” Gray’s chest expanded beneath Trulie’s head as he took in a deep breath. “Are ye certain…” Gray’s soothing baritone rumbled against her cheek, then faded into a whooshing exhale.

  “Am I certain about what?”

  “Are ye certain the Fates would punish ye if ye traveled back to the past to prevent such evil? How could the gods frown upon ye for stoppin’ one such as Aileas?” Gray eased back and peered down into Trulie’s face. “Are ye certain ’tis forbidden? How could they punish ye for changin’ it all for the good? So many lives would be saved.”