“That is what they want ye to believe.” Her voice sounded cheerful, but then she frowned, her eyes narrowing. “And then Evelyn Worthington will slit your throat and dance in your blood.” He looked down where she pointed to the ground, her foot tapping as if she splashed in a macabre puddle.
Grey exhaled long, holding on to Gram’s blue-veined hand. “I think ye’ve exhausted yourself.”
Her frown turned into a smirk. “If ye won’t do it, I will.”
Grey dipped his head to catch her gaze. “Ye will do nothing to Evelyn or Scarlet.”
Gram pulled away from his arm, crossing her hands in the folds of her blue robe. She tipped her nose higher and plastered a knowing smile on her face.
“Gram…” he said, stretching out her name in warning. “First, Evelyn doesn’t want to kill me. Second, I am not killing any lasses. And third…” He moved around to level his gaze with hers. “If they are murdered, it will bring England down upon us. They will burn us out and take Finlarig.”
Her eyes narrowed, her stare icing with hatred. “They’ve already done both,” she said.
He felt the ache in his jaw. “But they haven’t burned Killin and killed all of our clan. And I have a plan to get Finlarig back. One that does not include slitting anyone’s throat.”
Her bottom lip protruded slightly, as if he’d said that there would be no gifts exchanged at Hogmanay. She sniffed and looked toward the girls laughing around the pole. “A pity.”
“What are ye two discussing so intently?” Alana asked, coming up, one of Evelyn’s tarts in hand.
“Your brother’s lack of duty,” Gram said. “Letting the English live under his roof without slitting their throats.”
Alana lowered the apple tart next to her skirt. “She brought cinnamon with her.” She chewed around her words and swallowed quickly behind her other hand.
“If ye insist on talking about murder, I think ye should return home,” Grey said.
“My home has been destroyed,” Gram answered, waving to several little girls who twirled around. They pointed at her, and she laughed. “They like my feathers.”
Grey exchanged a look with Alana, and Alana took Gram’s arm in her other one. “Evelyn is trying to fix up Finlarig.”
Gram smiled at a little girl who ran up to her with a bouquet of wildflowers. “Aren’t ye precious. Here, ye can touch my feathers.” She bent so the lass could touch the quivering tips before running off.
“Why don’t we find Kerrick?” Alana said.
Grey signaled to Kerrick as Gram turned her gaze back to him. “But where is Aiden?” she asked and opened her pale eyes wide in the ruse of a real question. “Oh, that’s right. He’s nearly dead because of the English who came to clear us out for this Evelyn Worthington to steal our castle.”
“He is healing,” Grey said. He’d checked in on him this morning. Rebecca said he had a small fever but seemed to be stronger. “And no one is slitting Evelyn’s throat,” he finished in a whisper.
Alana started to lead Gram away. “Poison, a fall down the stairs, scalding with boiling water…” Gram flipped her veiny hand this way and that. “There are many ways to die.”
Alana looked back at Grey over her shoulder, eyes wide and lips pulled back in horror. Bloody hell. “Happy Beltane,” Grey called after her.
…
Evelyn laughed as she turned under the ribbon in her right hand, swinging past Scarlet. They had never celebrated around a maypole at Hollings, but a young woman named Rebecca had been kind enough to show them the pattern.
“Such fun,” Evelyn called, smiling toward Izzy, who sat before a pile of wildflowers that she was weaving into crowns.
“Watch out,” Scarlet said, laughing, as she deviated at the last second to avoid twirling into Evelyn. “You turned the wrong way.”
“I believe you did,” Evelyn called back.
“Ye both did,” Rebecca said, a smirk on her pretty face.
Evelyn turned, wrapping under and over the ribbons beside her, paying close attention until the steps became etched in her memory. As the music ended, all the ladies curtsied to one another.
Scarlet grabbed her hand, and they hurried over to lower next to Izzy. The day had been wonderful out in the sunshine, the coolness still clinging to the countryside to make it bearable. Evelyn was sure to have more freckles by nightfall, but to hide in the shade would have made her stand out when she was trying to fit in. And I’m free here. In truth, she rather liked freckles.
Izzy held out a crown of blue cornflowers to Evelyn. “For me?” she asked, smiling as Izzy nodded. “Thank you.” Evelyn placed it on her head. “How do I look, Scarlet?”
“Like a fairy queen, and I am green with envy.”
Izzy held out another crown, made of yellow and white daisies. “Perfect,” Scarlet said, setting it on her own head. “Thank you, crowner of fairy queens.”
Izzy giggled, the whisper of a sound passing from her lips. She set her own crown in place and stood with the fourth one that she’d made. She waved goodbye and trotted across the field toward the woman who Grey had introduced as Izzy’s big sister, Cat.
They watched Cat pick Izzy up in a hug, swinging her around. Now, she was a woman with freckles. It would hardly matter to obtain some more in the sun when one was born with brown dots speckling one’s face. Evelyn’s mother would have tried to scrub them off the poor girl. “She seems to care for her,” Evelyn said softly.
“Yes,” Scarlet said. “We should invite her to come to the school.”
“I did,” Evelyn said, her smile flattening. “She didn’t seem interested.”
Evelyn’s gaze slid across the field to where the men took turns showing off their strength with boulder and caber tossing. Grey seemed to be the judge rather than a participant.
Scarlet stood and reached both of her hands down to clasp Evelyn’s, helping her stand. “Where are we going?”
Scarlet grinned. “To get a closer view.”
“View of what?” Evelyn asked, purposely turning her back on the men.
“Grey Campbell,” she said into her sister’s ear.
“I wasn’t staring at him, just looking across to the men.” She realized that didn’t sound much better. “Grey doesn’t even seem to be tossing.”
“Maybe he doesn’t know how,” Scarlet said, teasing.
Evelyn snorted and wrapped her arm in Scarlet’s as they strode through the tall, thin wildflowers. The sun was starting to drop toward the tops of the trees. Except for a few hours of cooking with Molly to bring more food out for the small crowd of villagers, they had been outside nearly all day.
“The sun takes a lot out of me,” Evelyn said.
“I’m fairly exhausted,” Scarlet agreed. “But the bonfires will be lit soon for the running of the cows. We can’t miss that.”
“Listen to you,” Evelyn said, smiling. She watched Alana walk back through the woods, the small pack of puppies and Ceò following. One of the pups was wandering off to chase a buzzing bee. “I will make a country girl of you yet.”
Scarlet looked sideways at Evelyn. “Hmmm… stranger things have happened.”
A broad warrior grunted as he snapped his hands upward to tip the tall caber on end. It didn’t quite make it all the way around and landed with a thud to the side. He cursed, and another warrior came over, slapping him on the shoulder. Grey walked toward them.
“Your timing was off, is all,” Grey said. “Count your steps. Ye’ve got plenty of strength.”
The man seemed to straighten at Grey’s praise. “Ye show him,” Kerrick called.
“Aye, Grey, show us how it should be done.” Several of the men yelled out to him, and Evelyn’s breath stopped as he glanced her way, realizing that she watched.
“This should be fascinating,” Scarlet whispered and tugged her to sit on a couple
bales of hay. Grey walked toward them, untying his shirt at his throat. He stripped it off, exposing his tan skin over rippling muscles. “Good God,” Scarlet breathed.
He nodded to them, setting his shirt next to Evelyn on the hay. “You are going to show them how to throw trees correctly?” Evelyn asked, a smile growing on her face.
“Aye,” he answered, his gaze sliding up to the top of her head. “I like your crown.” He turned and walked back to the men.
Evelyn let her gaze wander over the puckered marks of several scars. “I doubt he got those from throwing cabers,” she said.
“The muscles?” Scarlet asked. “Most definitely.”
“No, the scars,” Evelyn said, frowning. “And I thought you weren’t interested in him.”
She shrugged. “Any flesh and blood female would notice that,” she said, flapping her hand toward Grey.
“Here, here,” Rebecca said, coming up next to them. A small group of ladies followed, including Kirstin, Alana, and her four playful puppies. Alana give a short whistle, and Ceò sat near the hay bale.
“We are all here to see a real toss,” Kirstin yelled. Grey ignored them, sizing up the cabers. Nodding toward one, two warriors hefted it onto their stout shoulders to follow Grey as he strode onto the playing field. Everyone was watching him, yet he didn’t seem to shrink at all.
“The caber is seventeen feet tall and one hundred and forty-five pounds,” Kerrick yelled out, reading the numbers that someone had painted on the side.
“Undoable,” Scarlet said. “Who thought of such a game?”
“It wasn’t a game to begin with,” Alana said, her hand stroking the wolfhound mother’s head. “In old days, Scots warriors would throw cut trees across a river to ford it.” She held her hands before her like a falling tree. “’Tis why the caber must land straight forward to count.”
The two men set the end of the caber among the flowers and righted it to stand tall. Grey approached. With intertwined fingers, he wrapped both hands around the thick trunk. Evelyn held her breath as he bent forward, bracing the thick length of caber against his chest and shoulder until his hand brushed the ground. The muscles in his calves and back bulged as he lifted with a deep grunt, his hands under the end of the long trunk. A collective gasp came from the women watching as he lifted, balancing the seventeen-foot-tall tree on his hands, his biceps like mountains.
“Robert,” Alana yelled, and Evelyn saw the wayward puppy leap out onto the field after a hare that had been hiding in the wildflowers. “Robert, no!”
Evelyn jumped up at the same time Ceò saw her puppy running toward Grey. Sensing danger, the mother wolfhound surged forward, her muscular chest pumping her front legs as she ran for her pup. The other three pups chased her onto the field, unaware of their jeopardy.
“Grey,” Evelyn yelled, running after Alana, who was also headed toward a possible tragic end if that caber came down on her. Grey had already taken two forward steps, the tree gathering momentum. Either he’d heard them yell or he saw the dogs, but he managed to run fast enough forward to stop the downward shift of the caber. It balanced straight in the air on his clasped hands.
“Get off the field,” Kerrick yelled, running after Alana as she grabbed one of the puppies. Robert was still on the loose, chasing the frightened rabbit toward Grey.
Evelyn lifted her skirts, her legs pumping. If only she was wearing trousers, she’d already have the rascal.
“Evelyn,” Grey said, his teeth gritted.
“It’s Robert. Let me get him.” Evelyn rounded Grey, trusting that he could bear the weight, and managed to catch Robert’s tail. The pup yelped at the unexpected tug, but Evelyn pulled him in to her body. She turned and ran back toward Kerrick, who held Ceò around the neck, the other puppies by her side.
Alana’s eyes looked shiny, and she blinked as Evelyn slowed before her, putting the wriggling Robert in her arms. Behind her, a loud thump made Evelyn jump. A cheer rose up, and she spun to see the caber laying in the grass. Not perfectly straight, but without injuring any wayward puppies.
Alana kissed the dog’s head. “Such a bad pup. Good bloody hell, ye could have been squashed, ye and your dame and your sisters.” Evelyn stood there, breathing hard. Alana met her gaze. A hesitant smile touched her lips, and she gave a nod. Evelyn nodded back.
“I’m taking all of ye back to the castle,” Alana said and turned on her heel, Ceò following behind.
“What the hell were you doing?” Scarlet came up, her face pale. She held a hand to her chest.
“Saving Robert,” Evelyn said, her breath starting to slow.
“And what would I do without you?” Scarlet asked, high demand in her tone. “You should be flogged, scaring me like that.”
“Agreed.” Grey’s voice came from behind her, scattering chill bumps across her back. He walked up, a crown of flowers in his clenched fist.
Evelyn’s hand went to her loose hair, realizing she’d lost her cornflower crown. “Thank you,” she said.
“What the bloody hell were ye doing, running out there?” he asked, not bothering to hide his ire.
Evelyn’s chin rose. “Saving your dogs and possibly your sister.” She grabbed the crown and jammed it back on her head. Where was the “thank you” he should be giving her?
He leaned his face in to hers. “If I’d have dropped that—”
“I knew you wouldn’t,” she cut in.
“Ye had no idea if—”
“It is obvious that you are strong enough to hold that caber, as long as a dog didn’t trip you.”
“A caber, already on its descent, weighs twice as much. Even I wasn’t sure I—”
“But I was sure.”
“I can’t finish a blasted sentence around ye. Hold your tongue,” he said, his gaze filled with angry fire. He stood close, looming over her, but Evelyn refused to back away. She watched the edge of his jaw and realized that he clenched it.
“Do not put yourself in jeopardy again, lass, or I will—”
“I’d prefer a ‘thank you’ to a threat or a reprimand,” she said, meeting his gaze with narrowed eyes. Evelyn turned away and realized that the caber toss audience all stared at them. Inhaling fully, she re-sculpted her glare into a pleasant smile.
“We are not done discussing this,” Grey said, his warm breath near her ear, but then he walked past, heading toward the pile of parallel cabers.
Rebecca gave Evelyn a wide-eyed look while Kirstin frowned. “And the dog ruined your dress,” Kirstin said, pointing. Evelyn looked down to see mud prints down the front of the underskirt.
“I think it will come out,” Evelyn said. “And the dogs’ lives are worth the gown anyway.”
Two of the older women from the village walked over. One tsked over the mud stain while the other stood with hands on her hips. “A damp cloth with water and a dab of soap should work without ruining the fabric. I will send a bar up to the castle.”
The woman’s brusque kindness brought an ache behind Evelyn’s eyes. She smiled, blinking. “That would be wonderful,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
The woman looked up at her, a frown still in place, sizing her up. “I have a daughter. She should learn to read.”
Joy leaped up within Evelyn. It felt like the happiest moment of her life. She brought a hand to her chest as if to contain her thudding heart. “I would be honored to teach her,” she said, her breath shallow.
“And my sister has a girl,” the second woman said.
Evelyn smiled. “Send her, too.” The women nodded and walked away, their arms linked.
“Well done,” Scarlet whispered and looked about. “Might there be any other unruly babes around for you to save?”
Evelyn squeezed her hand. “I hadn’t thought about anything but saving that rascal, but I managed to earn a student, possibly two.” She glanced behind her whe
re Grey spoke with Kerrick, a frown still making him look vicious. “And annoy Grey all in the same incident.” She linked her arm with Scarlet like the elderly ladies had done. “I’d say this has been a perfect day.”
Chapter Fifteen
Mo chreach.
Grey rubbed his teeth together behind a tight frown. Evelyn could have been killed. If he’d lost the battle against the weight of the caber, he could have dropped it right across her bonny head. Alana shouldn’t have brought the dogs near the field. And blast, he shouldn’t have been displaying his strength like a strutting peacock.
He stood beside the growing bonfire with his torch, watching Kerrick do the same to the second stack of dry wood and peat. Heat sprang up, prickling against Grey’s skin. The traditional running of the livestock through the fires was thought to bless them for the upcoming months of grazing on summer grasses. Beltane celebrated life and fertility, yet all he could envision was Evelyn’s near death.
Standing with her sister in the glow of the second fire, Evelyn looked to be painted in gold. Och, she had no idea of the nightmare she’d planted in his mind. He rubbed a fist over his tight gut and tossed his torch into the flames when Hamish handed him an ale.
“Ye still threw it straighter than Brodick, even with a lass and dog running circles around ye.” Hamish raised his flask in salute.
“The lass doesn’t understand she could have been killed,” Grey murmured, and took a sip.
Hamish rubbed one thick finger at the corner of his eye as he pinched his lips forward. “Seems she has faith in ye.”
Faith in him? The son of a foolish Covenanter. A chief who couldn’t keep the English off his land or protect his clan? A man who’d lost his ancestral home?
“Although,” Hamish drawled out, “I suppose if she’d been squashed, ye wouldn’t have to worry about running her out of Finlarig.”
Grey pierced him with a glare but saw instantly that Hamish teased.
Hamish crossed his arms. “Kirstin thought to dump her tarts in the grass, following your order to make things difficult for her, but I stopped her. I’m not willing to sacrifice those sweet morsels.”
A Rose in the Highlands (Highland Roses School) Page 15