Deception of a Highlander

by Madeline Martin

  His warm, masculine scent lingered in the air and clawed at her tender heart.

  Kieran lay on top of his bed fully clothed with his dirty boots still strapped to his feet. The poor man must have been exhausted. His large arms were folded over his chest, calling to mind not only his raw strength but also the number of times he had cradled her against his warm body. He’d offered her safety and love where she offered him betrayal and death.

  Mariel bit down on her lip until she tasted blood. Her hands trembled beneath the weight of the dagger.

  One thrust to the throat. Death would come quick and with little pain.

  For Jack’s life.

  To protect Blair and Dougal.

  The pale light of the moon spilled across his smooth jaw. Despite the hell he must have been through and the traces of fatigue on his face, he had shaved recently. For her.

  She pulled in a breath against the pain in her chest and immediately steeled herself from the onslaught of emotion. Despite her resolve, the hand holding the knife quavered.

  A knot lodged in her throat, and the energy coursing through her body went still. Her arms dropped to her sides. She could not do it. She could not kill Kieran.

  She backed away from his sleeping form, committing his image to memory before she turned toward the door. If she hurried, she could obtain the necessary boat to leave the island before anyone noticed her missing. A simple note to Kieran while en route to Inverness might provide him with enough time to hide himself as well as Blair and Dougal. She tightened her grip on her blade until the hilt bit into her palm in an effort to bring a sense of reality to the surreal night.

  The journey would be difficult, but if she hurried, it would be possible to arrive with enough time to observe the house and monitor guard rotations. In the cover of night, she could launch a silent attack to save Jack on her own.

  She reached for the door latch and paused. One last glance to balm her wounded heart, to remember forever the only man she would ever truly love. She looked behind her and froze.

  The bed was empty.

  • • •

  Kieran narrowed his eyes in the darkness, studying the figure in black. Finally, the English assassin showed his cowardly face.

  Not visiting Mariel had proven a wise choice. Kieran’s blood ran cold at the thought of placing her in danger. He would deal with this bastard as silently as possible to keep from waking her. In no way would he have her exposed to this ugliness, not after all she had been through.

  Energy pulsed through his veins, his exhaustion nothing more than a distant memory. Before the whoreson could turn back to the door, Kieran threw his weight against the man and knocked them both to the floor. The assassin grunted as his slender body absorbed the impact of Kieran’s weight. Despite his grip, the intruder writhed away with alarming dexterity and darted toward the open window.

  He wouldn’t get off that easy.

  Kieran lunged at him again with arms outstretched and caught the man’s ankles. The assassin’s head slammed against the floor with a dull thunk, and his body fell still.

  Kieran smirked. That had almost been too easy.

  The man’s foot shot out and slammed into Kieran’s chest. The impact sent him staggering back. The bastard might be small, but he was tough as hell.

  Kieran grasped the man’s arm, but the wiry coward twisted free once more and ran toward the window.

  Before Kieran could reach him, the assassin swung his legs over the edge in preparation to jump, but Kieran grasped the smooth fabric of the man’s shirt, halting the freefall before it could begin. With a savage jerk, Kieran swung the masked man back into his bedroom and slammed the shutters of his window closed.

  The assassin stared up at him, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Good, the bastard was scared. He should be.

  Caught, but not defeated, the assassin sprinted toward the door. Kieran was faster and headed him off. A savage shove to the man’s chest, and he crashed against the wall where he crumpled to the floor.

  Unease flared through Kieran. Something wasn’t right. That was not a man’s chest he’d shoved, nor was it a man’s voice that rasped for air.

  His attacker was a woman.

  She remained on the floor with her back slumped against the wall.

  “Lift yer mask,” Kieran said quietly.

  She did not respond. Her shallow panting filled the room.

  “Lift yer mask,” he barked.

  She flinched as his words reverberated off the walls around them. A slender white hand rose to the base of the mask and peeled the black fabric upward.

  Finally, he would see the face of his would-be killer.

  Chapter Thirty

  There was no way out for Mariel. The time had come to let Kieran view the monster beneath. Her heart raced. No longer would he see a good in her she did not possess. No longer would he seek to offer his protection and comfort. No longer would he love the woman he thought her to be.

  Mariel tensed for his reaction and tugged the mask over her head.

  Kieran, always so guarded, stared at her now in disbelief. His face was a mirror of everything he felt. The confusion, the shock…the horror as her betrayal hit him full force. The raw emotion in his black eyes tore through her. She should turn away, save herself the torment of his gaze. But no, she must look. She must see the product of her deception.

  He loved her and she had hurt him. He trusted her, and she threatened everything he worked so hard to protect.

  “Mariel…” Her name was nothing more than a strangled cry.

  Desperation seeped from the blackness of her soul, selfishly keening for the loss of the man she loved. She did not deserve him, she never had, and yet to imagine her life without him was not to imagine a life at all.

  “I can explain,” she whispered.

  His agony slid behind a mask of cold indifference. “Stand up.”

  She staggered to her feet and tried to ignore the empty ache in her chest. “Please, let me speak to y—”

  “I dinna wish to hear it.”

  His calloused hand looped around her wrist and twisted her arm behind her.

  The wall of his solid body brushed against her back. “If ye try to escape, I’ll break yer arm.”

  Mariel squeezed her eyes shut against the sting of tears. She wanted to fall against him and let the heat of his quiet strength comfort her. She wanted to soothe the hurt in his gaze with her explanations.

  Despair coiled like ice in the pit of her stomach. There would never be comfort from him again.

  “Let me explain,” she whimpered. The reality of her situation seeped in and her breath came faster.

  “No anything ye say can change what I have seen. Now walk.” His voice was flat.

  She shuffled forward, not bothering to ask where he took her. She didn’t need to. Memories of the damp cellar rushed forefront to her mind. Chills raised the flesh on her arms.

  Jack.

  Her step faltered. He would pay the price of her failure. Kieran nudged her forward, his hand tight on her wrist.

  She obeyed his unspoken command and continued on despite the trembling of her legs.

  Perhaps she could still save Jack. Not only did she know the rendezvous point, she knew the layout of the manor from the months she had trained there. Information was all she had to bargain with for Jack’s life.

  Kieran’s hold on her loosened, but she did not dare to attempt escape. She allowed herself to be escorted to the bottom of the cellar steps. The entrance to the cold, barren cell stretched ominously before her.

  Another nudge against her back urged her toward her destiny. She had no choice but to enter. Her feet scuffed on the hard packed floor and eerie plinks of dripping water echoed off the cold walls. She turned to face Kieran. There was much she needed to say, much he needed to hear.

  Her throat tightened. How could she speak if she could not even breathe? From the indifference radiating off him to the way he avoided making eye contact, there re
mained no question in Mariel’s mind that he was no longer her lover. He had become her enemy.

  The plea died on her lips and he did not speak. He slammed the cell shut and locked it. He did not look at her before turning away.

  • • •

  Mariel’s rounded shoulders pressed against the unyielding wall of stone behind her and the wet ground left her stiff and aching with cold. She hugged her legs for a warmth that would never come.

  Hamish stood guard before her locked door. He did not speak, nor did he attempt to gaze upon her. Instead, his blade whipped in the subtle glow of the single lit candle toward invisible opponents.

  The door above the stairs creaked open and a familiar voice spoke in the dark. “Go get yer breakfast, lad. I’ll mind her.”

  Alec.

  Hamish did not wait to be told twice and disappeared into the darkness.

  Mariel’s fists clenched against the wrenching burn in her belly. She wanted to bury her face against her knees and slide from sight. But she could not, she would not. Alec deserved to see her for what she was.

  The sounds of his movement echoed around her. She waited in the terse silence of her cell. Each footstep set her heart racing until at long last he stuck his face to the bars of the door and stared at her, accusation hot in his blue gaze. “Is it true?”

  “I’d like to speak to Kieran, please.” Her voice rasped from thirst and lack of use.

  “I dinna think he wants to see ye. I canna say I blame him.” Alec glanced to the wall behind her and added, “If it’s true that is.”

  He searched her face in the muted light, his cold eyes skeptical. He didn’t want to believe what he’d been told.

  “There is so much more than anyone knows,” she said quietly. There in the face of one of the few she called a friend, she still could not admit the truth.

  His grunt indicated he understood far more than was said.

  “Alec, I have to speak with Kieran. He has always relied on your counsel, and I know he will listen to you.” She sighed, not sure exactly what to say to convince him. “I know I have no right to be asking this given my position, but if you could speak with him on my behalf, I would be forever grateful.”

  Before he had a chance to answer, Hamish’s footsteps thumped on the stairs. The sound was followed by the mouth-watering salty aroma of cooked ham. “Best get yers while it’s still warm,” he said.

  Alec stared at Mariel a moment longer, his face blank. Without word or promise, he backed away from her prison and took his leave.

  Mariel’s stomach churned. If she were going to save Jack, she would need to leave by nightfall.

  Aaron was not known for his patience and already she had taken so long. She curled up on the earthen floor and allowed herself to wallow in her own misery. Several rounds of guards came and went. Plates of food were delivered and left untouched in the corner of her cell. In a haze of timeless existence, the sounds overhead lessened and eventually fell into silence. Night had descended.

  She could not depart for Inverness, and Kieran was not coming.

  • • •

  Kieran sat alone in his darkened chamber. The servants had attempted to light a fire, but he had callously chased them off. He wanted his room black, still, and cold. Like his mood.

  His hand clenched into a fist in a vain effort to squeeze out the rage festering within. To no avail. The pounding in his head intensified.

  Damn Mariel with her heated gaze and insurmountable beauty. He should have known she was a trap. He’d had his doubts about her the moment they met, and yet still allowed her to force her way onto Skye—and into his heart.

  The simmer of his anguish bubbled over. With all the force of his rage, he hurled his cup across the room where it connected against the wall with a satisfying clang.

  He was not the only victim to fall prey to her charm. Blair and Dougal both loved Mariel. Trusted her. They would be heartbroken to learn of her betrayal.

  With all he had told Mariel, how could she so easily lie to them all?

  Kieran leapt to his feet and paced the length of his room.

  If she were a man, she would already be dead by his own hands.

  With the right words and well-placed moments of intimacy, she’d had him exactly where she wanted him. What a fool he had been.

  And still she begged an audience. Did she think he was daft?

  Even Alec was not immune to her charms and had pleaded her case. Alec—the coldest warrior in Kieran’s army.

  Kieran paused his pacing and sat heavily in his chair before the cold hearth. Moonlight spilled into the room with a pearl-like luminescence and fell across his arm. The raised flesh of a vicious scar cast a slight shadow across the crook of his elbow and forbidden memories rushed to the forefront of his mind of the way she had fingered the healed wounds. For the briefest of moments, his bitter anger swept aside. How could an event that transpired only weeks before be so vivid as if it had happened days ago?

  A scar is the result of an event borne upon your flesh.

  His fingertip traced the pale line across his elbow and recalled the image of Mariel’s mangled back. There was much had not yet told him.

  He rose from his chair with a steely determination. She had secrets, and he would uncover every last one of them.

  He made his way to the cellar without the aid of light. Below, Hamish stood before Mariel’s cell with his sword outstretched in his hand. He straightened when Kieran approached and let his sword drop into the scabbard at his side.

  “Practicing,” the lad murmured.

  Kieran gave him a hard look. “Leave.”

  Hamish nodded and scrambled up the stairs. Kieran waited for the door to slam shut overhead before he approached the cell. Energy flared through him the way it did oftentimes before battle.

  The key grated against the ancient lock, and he pushed the door open. Mariel was on the other side, standing with her back to him. She did not flinch at the noise, nor did she turn as he entered.

  “Ye wanted to see me. Here I am.” He kept his voice monotone and devoid of his anger, his pain.

  Mariel faced him. Exhaustion lined her delicate features. She looked fragile, as if one hard look might break her. A powerful surge of longing swelled within him, unexpectedly and unwanted.

  Their meeting would have to be quick.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. He would offer her no comfort that night.

  “You are still in danger.” Her soft voice interrupted his thoughts.

  “How am I in danger? Are ye no the English assassin sent to kill me?” He could not keep the fury from seeping into his voice.

  “I have information to share with you, but you must agree to two conditions before I agree to help you.”

  He stared at her in disbelief. Perhaps she was not so fragile as she appeared. “What are yer conditions?”

  Her gaze was sharp beneath her fatigue. “When you exact vengeance upon those who have threatened you, there is one person who must be left alive.”

  “Ye assume I will retaliate.”

  Her fingers worried the fabric of her black trews. “Catching me will not solve the problem, only prolong it. If you do not kill those who seek you harm, the threat to your life and your family will not cease.”

  He hated the searing burn tightening like a fist in his gut. “Ye want Jack left alive.”

  Her gaze softened, but she did not break eye contact. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “I have a condition of my own,” Kieran said. “I want to know who Jack is. What is the man to ye if no a lover?”

  She bit her lip and regarded him with a worried expression he had come to know too well. The look that indicated she was wary of his trust. After weeks of frustrated half-truths, he would know who Jack was.

  “Jack isn’t a man at all.” She swallowed thickly. “He’s a boy of ten. He’s my brother, and he is in danger because of me.”

  Kieran narrowed his eyes, unsure of whether he could believe her o
r not. The tears in her eyes seemed genuine. They’d certainly tugged at a deeper part of him he fought to ignore.

  She wrapped her arms around her torso. “I saw how you handled Hamish and how well you rule your clan. Jack needs someone like you in his life. He’s innocent of my treachery and needs a home, someone to care for him. He’s a good boy.” Her voice broke, but she continued regardless. “I know he will listen to you and respect you. Please take him into your clan and make him one of your own.”

  She drew a deep breath and watched him with shimmering eyes. “Please,” she whispered.

  If what she said was true, how could he deny her request? Blair would never forgive him if he left a child without a home, and he could never forgive himself to leave an innocent unguarded.

  “I agree to yer first condition.”

  Mariel tilted her head upward and breathed a long, shaky sigh. She turned toward him, and her pale lips lifted in a sad smile. Her nod was more to herself than to him. “Jack will be safe.”

  “Ye said two things,” he reminded her.

  He balled his hand into a fist and waited for the request he knew would come.

  After all she had done, all she had threatened with her presence—could he allow her to live?

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Kieran widened his stance in an effort to keep from pacing Mariel’s small, miserable cell. Why was she taking so long to answer his question? At this rate, he would be there all night.

  Her thin arms were still wrapped around her chest, her brow creased with worry. She looked so damn vulnerable. A stark contrast to the woman who maintained unbreakable strength and determination for the months he’d had known her. He hated seeing her like this. He hated the raw feelings she evoked with her sorrow.

  “The second request?” he pressed. Would she beg for her life?

  Mariel lifted her chin, displaying a shadow of the stubborn resilience he had come to expect from her. “I want to come with you.”

  “Mariel, this isna—”

  “You need me. Not only do I know the location of the meeting point, I also know the layout of the property. The manor contains secret rooms and false doors. I know them well. I also know how best to avoid discovery. Together we can catch them off guard and gain the advantage.”