Highland Song

by Young, Christine

  Stephan laughed. "Something tells me you are probably right. I think Slade spent more time gambling and fighting than he did sitting in church singing hymns."

  Lainie smiled, the voices claiming her attention. Music had always been a pleasure. Her brothers had always taken great delight in dancing to the sound of the musicians. She closed her eyes and imagined the joyful and sometimes playful sound of the musicians playing the same tune that Josie and Slade were singing.

  Lainie left the room and went to her own in search of her recorder. She began playing. The music was far too familiar. Tears formed in her eyes while she remembered a happier time she could never return to. Automatically she took the counterpoint, letting the music from her recorder weave through the simple harmony created by brother and sister.

  After a few minutes, the music claimed Lainie, making her forget where she was. The music from her simple recorder soared, skimming between the light of Josie's soprano and the deep shadow of Slade's baritone, enriching both like a rainbow stretched across the sky, bridging the distance between dark and light.

  Lainie didn't realize what she had created until the harmony stopped abruptly, leaving her music alone. Her eyes snapped open.

  She found herself being stared at by Stephan, Slade, and Josie who must have heard her and come into the room where she was playing. Color rushed to Lainie's face.

  "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to--"

  "Don't be silly," Josie interrupted quickly. "You're music is beautiful. Where did you learn to play like that?"

  "Everyone in my family played a different instrument. At night sometimes, we would all play together. Sometimes we would experiment." She shrugged. "None of us could sing."

  "Do you know how to play that on the flute? Could you teach me?" Josie asked.

  "No time," Slade cut in, waving his hand impatiently. "I don't want anyone in the family getting too attached to Lainie MacPherson. And we're leaving at first light tomorrow."

  Josie flinched at the callousness in her brother's voice. "It hasn't escaped me that you're hesitant to involve Lainie in this family. I don't believe for an instant Lainie MacPherson is who you think she is. I don't think this fragile, young lady could ever have stolen anything even though she has admitted to that very thing."

  The look Aaron shot his sister was meant to tell her not to pursue the topic. He'd said his piece and she should leave well enough alone.

  "I'll ride with you to the crossing tomorrow," Stephan spoke into the cold silence that followed Aaron's rough words.

  "I'd appreciate that," Slade said.

  "I suspect Jericho might be closer than you would want to admit."

  "Most likely."

  "It leaves you with a back trail to cover and I can do that on my way back home."

  Slade took the chair on the other side of Lainie and sat down.

  Bracketed by the two men, Lainie felt frankly petite. As she was every bit of five feet, three and one-half inches tall, the feeling was unusual; most of the men she met were barely taller than she was.

  Trying not to touch either of the pair of wide shoulders she was wedged between, Lainie reached for the cup of tea Josie had set on the table in front of her.

  So did Slade. Their hands collided. Both jerked back with a muttered word--an apology in Lainie's case and a curse in Slade's.

  Stephan looked away for a moment but couldn't get rid of the broad smile on his face. "Now," Stephan said, clearing his throat, "you say that the papers Lainie stole were forgeries. And that there were no secrets on them she could have passed on to the men she was riding with. So has a crime been committed?"

  Lainie inhaled a deep, surprised breath, staring at each man in turn.

  "You didn't tell your prisoner then?" Stephan asked. "That your documents weren't real?"

  She reached for the cup of tea once more, hoping the slight tremor in her fingers didn't show. She didn't dare speak.

  Her skin burned where Slade had touched her.

  "I was well aware of her nimble fingers. I planted the evidence so I could catch her with the stolen papers. But she passed them off. I wanted my own proof before I took her to Bertram."

  "Then you have no proof. Which means you have no prisoner," Stephan said.

  "Bertram doesn't require proof. I did. He wanted Lainie MacPherson. There is a price on her head, and Bertram gave me the orders to bring her to Edinburgh. He won't sign my release papers until I do," Slade said in a carefully modulated voice. "I want to be done with the army, my time, my duty."

  As she listened to Slade speak, she sipped the tea, watching him from over the top of the cup. She didn't mean to protest too rigorously in front of Stephan. She would save that fight for when they were once again on the road.

  "But you don't care if the papers are signed by Bertram or the King, do you?" Stephan asked.

  "That is beside the point. I was ordered to do a job and I've never failed," Slade said tightly.

  "This job seems unjust to me."

  "You're not aware of all the facts."

  "And you are?" Stephan countered. "It seems you have a purpose of your own regardless of the truth."

  Slade laughed. He and Stephan had never seen eye to eye on the subject of the army.

  But now that he was wanting out, he was beginning to understand Stephan's feelings. He just didn't like it that Bertram held all the cards.

  "It is not the English I despise. It is Bertram. He is a pig with no feelings." Lainie said, her voice hollow.

  Slade gave Lainie a sideways glance that was just short of an accusation.

  "That is nice to know," Stephan said, glancing between the Lainie and Slade.

  Lainie gave a little snort then shook her head. The hasty knot she had made at the nape of her neck after giving the baby her scarf came loose. A long lock of her hair escaped and spilled across Slade's hand. The individual strands gleamed in the candle light like moonbeams from the evening sky.

  And like moonbeams should feel, Lainie's hair was cool and silky against his skin.

  "Sorry," she mumbled, hastily redoing the knot.

  Slade said nothing at all. He didn't trust himself to speak. He knew his voice would reveal the sudden, swift pounding of his blood. He didn't want Stephan to see the raw hunger he was feeling and know Lainie had him wrapped around her little finger.

  "Well, we can all agree about Bertram," Stephan said.

  Once again, he looked intently between Lainie and Slade.

  "If we are all right about him," he added after a minute, "you better pray there's another way to satisfy this matter between the three of you and even Lainie's family if they become involved which I believe they will."

  "That's why I stopped here before going north. I knew you won't mind if I borrow a couple of good horses to use as packhorses."

  "Take whatever you think you'll need," Stephan said. "And get Lainie a mount fit for riding into the highlands. Her pony won't make it."

  "I was hoping you would volunteer that," Slade said.

  Stephan nodded then said bluntly, "Horses are the least of your problems."

  "The weather," Slade answered.

  "That's one, but not the worst."

  Lainie made a questioning sound.

  "The worst problem," Stephan said, "is finding Lainie's brothers along the trail and having them taking issue with Slade calling you his prisoner and probably worse if they think Slade has compromised you. Or were the two of you expecting to see a sign from the MacPherson proclaiming, we don't care about our baby sister?"

  "Hell no. I was expecting a fair and dancing bears to tell me why Bertram wants her bad enough he'd put her face on wanted posters and hang them all over the British Isle," Slade spoke softly, yet there was a hard edge to his voice.

  Stephan laughed and shook his head.

  "All fooling aside," he said a moment later, "how do you expect to slip past the sentries on the road to Edinburgh?"

  "The men who will have the duty will be tired and
hungry, and they won't be expecting me to take the back roads."

  "Don't count on anything. Her brothers will be looking for her too. Don't you forget they will most likely ask the questions after they've skewered you through if they ask any questions at all."

  "I'm not a fool. But I would like a few answers to the questions I've posed. Hell, I expected the little lass to tell me by now, but her lips don't want to tell me anything that might help her out of her predicament."

  Stephan looked at Lainie. "What about it? Don't you think the man guarding you ought to have answers to his questions? He's putting his life at risk riding into the highlands with you at his side."

  "I don't think he should invade my privacy. He made up his mind about me a long time ago. He believes I'm Bertram's mistress," she said bitterly.

  "But you have information that could change that," Stephan encouraged.

  "Not for the better," she spoke softly, the back of her throat filling with moisture. She didn't want to shed one more tear thinking about Bertram's filthy hands and what he did to her. Yet she started to shiver, cold-fear snaking down her spine at the thought.

  "Slade thinks you are a spy and guilty of treason. What's worse than that?" Stephan asked.

  "There are a lot of things worse than that."

  "Tell me then," Slade challenged.

  His voice was unusually deep. It was a sound like black velvet. The tone was a caress as intangible and undeniable as the subtle currents flowing between them.

  "I can't," Lainie said, knowing her life would never be the same once she spoke the words.

  Slade watched her with such a strange look in his eyes. Would he believe her? Of course he would. He already thought she was a tavern whore, willing to sell her body to the highest bidder. He would believe the rape had been her fault, and in some crazy way she had asked for Bertram to attack her and take her innocence.

  The pain seared through her as he seemed to stop everything, even breathing to wait for her to speak.

  She inhaled a long deep breath, wishing Josie were in the room to lend some kind of support. A woman would understand.

  "Well," Slade said, his deep green eyes glimmering with impatience.

  "It was a long time ago," she whispered, looking for some way to delay the inevitable.

  He crossed his arms in front and leaned back in his chairs, his eyes impaling her.

  She moistened her lips, her heart racing with fear of speaking the unspeakable. "I defied my brother's orders."

  "I've heard that before. Tell me something I don't know," he challenged, leaning forward slowly, watching her, waiting for a truth she was too terrified to speak. "But that isn't what you want to tell me, now is it?"

  She looked down at her hands, loosing what little courage she had. "No," she said. "I don't want to tell you anything."

  "But you are going to."

  "Hawke and Ian were gone. I was told not to leave the castle, because Bertram and his men might still be in the highlands."

  "You left anyway." Slade's fingers tightened on the armrest. His face was grim. "You went after him. Were you seeking one last lover's tryst?"

  She inhaled sharply, her hands shaking with renewed anger. How dare he think she would run to that man seeking him out for any reason.

  "I wasn’t looking for Bertram. I needed to feel the fresh air on my face. I didn't mean for anything to happen. Bertram was gone. No one had seen him in days. I thought the orders to stay inside the castle walls were unfair and stupid."

  "Were they?"

  Lainie shook her head no. "I went riding. Bertram was waiting for me almost as if he knew I would come. He won't stop hunting for me. He’ll never stop. I thought he was finished with me, but I’m his obsession."

  "He kidnapped you."

  Lainie looked up startled and confused, her fists tightened into hard little balls.

  "You didn't have a choice, did you? He took you with him. That is why you left MacPherson land."

  She wanted to hit out at Slade. She wanted to hurt him because he was there and because he knew, and because he would never want her again. He would never look at her with hunger in his eyes.

  "So you took the easy way out. You became his mistress," Slade said. "You kept his bed warm for the trinkets and baubles he gave you. What did you get, Lainie? Tell me what he gave you?"

  The anger Lainie saw in Slade's haunting green eyes surprised and terrified her. She didn't want Slade to hand her over to Bertram. That thought frightened her more than anything. She inhaled a quick, sharp breath, turning her face away from the man who held her future in his hands. She had defied her brother. Now her very defiance would change her life once more.

  She wondered what it would be like to have her virtue back. She pondered what lovemaking would be like with a man with hard green eyes and a gentleness that baffled her. She wondered what it would be like with a man who listened to her and didn't jump to conclusions before she could tell him the truth.

  She would never find out because she would never let this man touch her in anger and that seemed to be all he felt when he looked at her.

  “He didn’t give me anything,” she whispered. “And I would never take anything he had to offer."

  Chapter Eight

  "He won't leave me here," Lainie muttered, her eyes still closed. She was half-asleep and half-awake. In that dreamlike state she was having doubts then she realized she was his prisoner until she set foot on MacPherson land or worse the city of Edinburgh.

  When she finally woke, it was to a hazy darkness that came just before daylight. Mumbling under her breath about men and dawn, she groped for her shirt, slipped it on over her head then found the rest of her clothing.

  "Darn boots don't seem to fit," she muttered. Yet she pulled them on then moved quietly out of the house trying not to awaken Josie and the babe. Lainie grabbed her one small bag, and headed for the stables. She expected to find Slade already there, getting the horses ready. She had heard Stephan earlier and expected Slade to be with him. A few minutes later, she had caught the faint rumble of men's voices coming from the stable.

  Despite the fact that Lainie had had a restless night and hated rising before the sun, she had not wanted to sleep in the guest room a moment longer. She knew it was up to her to convince Slade he should not take her to Bertram. Lainie just didn't know how to do that--convince Slade.

  Yet it wasn't the trip haunting Lainie's waking dreams. It was the realization that the word rape had not been used. That perhaps Slade did not know the truth after all. She had not been able to say the word. And she had hoped and prayed he would be able to decipher the truth. Something in the back of her mind kept telling her he believed Bertram had not forced her into his bed. He thought she slept with Bertram for the little trinkets he left on the stand beside the bed.

  Men… How on earth could they think the way they did?

  The stable door was open. Slade and Stephan were talking and working over four horses. A lantern suspended on a nearby pole glowed pale gold against the fading darkness of night.

  As Lainie silently approached, she heard Stephan's voice.

  "…going into the high country you have to be wary of the bandits, the men who have had everything ripped from them by the English. These men have little to loose and everything to gain. Lainie is money, ransom money. I doubt if any of them have loyalties to any clan. If captured, the choices revolve around one thing--money. Just who would pay the most for her--Hawke or Bertram? She didn't tell us everything, and it seems she was in exile. Was it self-imposed or did her family make her leave? After she was kidnapped and became Bertram's mistress, what happened then?"

  Slade grunted.

  "Then there is the part you don't want to talk about."

  "What I don't want to talk about?"

  "Well, I just figured that as a friend and brother-in-law, I should warn you what can happen when a man takes a pretty girl into wild Scottish country," Stephan said with a wink.

  "Save
your breath," Slade shot back.

  Lainie held her breath.

  Leather slid over leather with a rushing sound as Slade drew his horse's cinch strap up tight. The horse snorted and stamped a foot in displeasure.

  In the stillness of the morning, each sound was distinct and clear, knifing into Lainie’s heart and widening the distance between her and Slade.

  "Just the same," Stephan said. "I would watch your back. I've known more than one young man who escorted a girl into dangerous country and ended up married."