Deception of a Highlander

by Madeline Martin

  He did not bother to suppress his heavy sigh. How like the English to keep a maze-filled home.

  His men were used to fighting outdoors or in the solid walls of a castle. Though strong and prepared, the MacDonald men were not used to trickery, especially not with a traitor at their side.

  “The men you will face are vicious and lack the honor of Highland battle. They fight dirty.” Her gaze dropped to the floor. “They fight like me. I can train your men and prepare them for what they will be up against.”

  Mariel was a strong opponent, he would give her that. His men relied more on strength than speed. The drastic difference in fighting styles could put them at a disadvantage and cost Kieran lives he was not willing to sacrifice.

  Damn it.

  Kieran kept her trapped with his gaze. “Where did ye learn to fight like that?”

  “The man who sent me here insisted I learn. He had a Chinaman he’d saved from being executed who trained his people for him. I was the only woman to receive such training.” Her knuckles went white beneath her clenched hands. “If I would have tried to escape, they wouldn’t have killed me. They would have killed Jack.”

  The expression on her face was earnest, her gaze sincere. Indecision warred within Kieran, a foreign and unwelcome emotion. His people lived and died by his decisions.

  He stepped closer. “How do I know I can trust ye?”

  The flickering light sent shards of gold sparkling through her exotic eyes. “I have not told you a single lie since we met.”

  His derisive snort echoed off the cold walls. “Ye expect me to believe that?”

  “No.” Her back stiffened. “But it’s the truth.”

  He could think of no proof to support or disprove her claim. She had deceived him and made him believe she was someone she was not.

  Regardless, the most pressing matter centered on Blair and Dougal’s safety. If Mariel were unable to carry out her assignment, another assassin would be dispatched in her place. Kieran knew all too well the persistence of men.

  “Will you allow me to join you?” she asked.

  Her voice was soft and carried with it an intimacy that brought back memories he preferred to forget. He scrubbed his face in an effort to clear his mind and focused on his original purpose in coming to see Mariel. To discover the truth.

  “I will agree to let ye come, but first I want ye to answer my questions.”

  “You trust me to tell the truth?”

  “Ye dinna lie, remember?” He searched her eyes, challenging what he wanted desperately to believe.

  She did not turn away. “No,” she replied with an earnest expression. “I do not lie. I’ll answer any question you ask.”

  He pulled the chair from outside her cell door, settled it in the small prison and motioned to it. “Ye can sit if ye like.”

  “I’d prefer not to.”

  Kieran shrugged. “Ye mentioned a meeting point. Where is it?”

  “There is a large manor on the outskirts of Inverness. The exact location is difficult to find unless you know where to look. The man who owns the manor, the man you will need to stop, is Aaron.” She pursed her lips.

  Was she afraid to say more?

  “Is he the man you feared when I met you?”

  “Yes.” She searched his eyes. “He runs an operation of spies, assassins, and whores. People pay him, and he has his people carry out the tasks without ever getting his hands dirty. He’s hard and ruthless. Had you not allowed me to join you, he would have killed Jack and probably me as well.”

  “Who hired him?” Kieran pressed.

  “Given the instructions I received, I can only guess.”

  Kieran’s body instinctively tensed. “What instructions?”

  Mariel hesitated. Her gaze flicked to the sword at his side. “Remember our agreement. You can’t kill me until after Aaron is defeated.”

  Fear rippled through him. “What instructions?” he repeated through clenched teeth.

  She looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “They wanted to know where Blair and Dougal were hidden. If I couldn’t discover their whereabouts within three months, I was to kill you.”

  A chill tingled at the base of his neck. She had been sent after Blair and Dougal, not him. Kieran heard himself roar. He clenched a fist at his side and stared at Mariel in horror. Rage twisted dark and ugly within his gut. If she were a man…

  Mariel shook her head. “I didn’t know, Kieran. I thought they were grown men when I took the assignment, political refugees.”

  Kieran unfurled his hand and then balled it into a fist again, focusing on the action in an effort to control himself. “Ye dinna ever consider they were a woman and child?”

  “What would you have thought?” she demanded, turning a hard gaze on him. Her expression softened. “You’re angry and you’re hurt. If striking me will make you feel better, do it. I can take the hit.”

  Her invitation caught him off guard, as did the subtle shift in her weight as she braced herself for the blow. He had never intentionally hit a woman in his life, and he refused to do so now.

  He moved back a step, but her body did not relax.

  “Was the attack from the MacLeods part of Aaron’s effort to get to Blair and Dougal?”

  “No, Aaron is far too subtle for that.”

  Kieran took another deep breath to calm himself before he asked the question that weighed heaviest on his heart. “When did ye send word to him of Blair’s location?”

  Mariel’s chin lifted. “I never would do that.” A look of pain crossed her features and the words trailed off. “I knew you would sacrifice everything for them and so I thought to…” Tears sparkled unshed in her eyes. “I couldn’t do it.”

  She had meant to kill him.

  Kieran hardened against her tortured look lest it pierce the stoicism necessary to handle the situation.

  Manipulation would not work on him. Not again. He was fool enough to fall prey the first time. He was not so much a fool that he would fall for it again.

  He wanted to slam his fist into the wall until the mortar sprinkled from the cracks like powder. He wanted to rage at her and make her understand his hatred for her lies. But he was a warrior and emotion never won wars.

  “They dinna know,” he murmured, reminding himself of the most important thing. As of now, Blair and Dougal were still safe.

  God, he hoped she had been right about not lying to him. If this were a lie…

  His stomach churned with disgust. “How could ye agree to something like this?”

  She drew a slow breath. “In exchange for my cooperation, I would have Jack’s freedom and mine as well. Were I to decline, they would…” She sucked in pained breath. “They would kill him.”

  Kieran’s brow furrowed. “Yer freedom? I dinna understand.”

  • • •

  Mariel studied Kieran carefully, waiting for a reaction of some kind. He had listened without speaking while she recounted how she had been left as Jack’s sole caregiver and how she’d been tricked into working for Aaron. Kieran crossed his arms over his chest, his face expressionless.

  Her throat ached from speaking for so long, but she could take his silence no longer. “I’m not proud of what I’ve done,” she said. “Were it not for Jack, I would have let myself slip into the gutter and never emerged. But Aaron would not release Jack unless I paid back the coin we had cost him. Little did I know the training he gave me, the clothes, the tutors—all of that added to the amount I owed. When I realized that, I wanted to give up, but I couldn’t. Not when I had to be strong for Jack. If I were gone, he would have no one. He’s too young to survive on his own, too weak.”

  He still showed no reaction. Instead he motioned toward her. “What happened to yer back?”

  Such a simple question to ask. If he only knew the pain that question would dredge up, he would never have asked. She regarded his cold stare. Or perhaps he would.

  Her knees turned soft and her weight became too much to
bear. Perhaps the chair was a good idea after all. She sank down onto the smooth wooden seat. “Please don’t ask me to relive that.”

  “Ye said scars were secrets and those on yer back are exceptional. There are no secrets between us now, aye?” His voice was almost soothing, as though he were trying to coax a response from her.

  The musty cell suddenly felt colder and its damp chill pressed into her. Mariel pulled her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Though she felt the weight of Kieran’s stare heavy upon her, she could not look at him.

  A chip in the rough stone wall drew her attention, and she fixed on that as she heard her voice echo in the tiny room. “Toward the end of my training, Aaron wanted me to learn how to kill a man.” She hesitated, anticipating the rush of memories with dread.

  Kieran’s voice sounded far away as he spoke. “Go on.”

  The foul odor of tallow candles choked her. There were no candles like that in the castle, and yet she could smell them, feel them as the smoke burned down her throat. Mariel closed her eyes, and the room around her melted away. Her heart raced. God help her, she did not want to go back…

  She sat in the semidarkness, trying to breathe in the heavy air. A candle sat on a small table in the center of the chamber.

  “They put me in a room with no windows. There was a man tied to a chair in the corner. He was frightened. I could see it in his eyes. I didn’t know what they wanted me to do, but I think somehow he did.”

  Clear blue eyes darted anxiously toward her. The door creaked open, and a puddle spread beneath the chair as he urinated on himself.

  “Another man entered the room. He was large and he smelled…horrible.”

  Sweat and death emanated from his swollen flesh, his chest wheezing with labored breath.

  “He pressed a blade into my hand and ordered me to kill the man in the chair. I refused. He pulled a whip from his belt and ordered again for me to kill.”

  The coil of braided leather swirled to the floor with a sharp slap. A slow, menacing smile spread over the large man’s face, revealing several missing teeth.

  “I understood the threat and yet again, I refused. That’s when he whipped me. He stopped after each lash and bade me kill the man. Each time I refused until I could withstand it no more.”

  Her dress hung in bloody shreds at her side and she swayed with exhaustion.

  “No,” she whispered and braced herself for the wrath of the whip. It fell against her and stripped away flesh that was no longer intact. She staggered against the pain, her knees buckling beneath her. The room rocked, turned hazy, and she slumped to the floor. She refused to accept her defeat and tried to raise herself. Her arms trembled with futile effort.

  “My body wanted to die, but I clung to the pain. To feel meant I lived. No one would help Jack if I were dead. I heard the scrape of a chair and the frightened man was thrown next to me. His head was yanked backward and his throat slit. I couldn’t close my eyes. If I did, I knew I might never open them again. I saw…everything.”

  The blade was soundless as it bit into tender flesh. Blue eyes bulged and blood gushed from the wound. It sprayed her with its slippery warmth and seeped into her dress. He gurgled and sputtered. His body jerked in the throes of final defeat before he fell still.

  Bile rose in the back of her throat. The heat of the room, the coppery odor of blood, the metallic taste of it upon her lips, and the pain of her back. She could take no more. Lacking the strength to raise her head, she emptied the meager contents of her stomach where she lay.

  “Aaron was furious when he learned I’d refused to kill the man. For my disobedience, he ordered…” She heard herself falter. “He ordered me to be locked in a closet with the body. For three days.”

  “That night at the inn, the nightmare ye had where ye felt my neck…” Kieran’s voice startled her, calling her back from hell.

  The air smelled of moist earth and the room was cold. There was no blood, no vomit, and no body.

  Mariel hugged her legs tighter. Tears stained the black fabric stretched across her knees. “Please don’t make me talk about this anymore.”

  Kieran took a step toward her and stopped. He was so close she could breathe in the scent that had once made her feel so safe, so loved. Her body trembled with want of that comfort.

  His expression was softer, almost tender, and his hand reached toward her.

  She waited, her body screaming for the slightest of touches, begging for reassurance and support.

  But consolation did not come. His hand curled into a fist and dropped to his side. He turned away and walked from her cell.

  “Where are you going?”

  He faced her once more, his expression hard. Gone was the hint of kindness she had glimpsed only moments before.

  “To tell the person this affects more than anyone else,” he said. “Blair has a right to know.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Mariel did not move off the hard chair even after the door slammed overhead, announcing Kieran’s departure. She hugged her legs and tried not to think about him waking Blair in the middle of the night. She tried not to imagine the disappointment, and the pain in Blair’s gaze.

  The door opened and footsteps clunked down the stairs. Mariel’s heart pounded frantically. Kieran had returned. For the first time since she had peeled off that horrible mask, hope eased the knots in her stomach. Perhaps he had changed his mind. Perhaps he decided not to tell Blair.

  “Mariel.” The voice that spoke was familiar, but not Kieran’s. Colin appeared before her cell door.

  Disappointment left her reeling. Blair would still learn the truth, Kieran still despised her, and now Colin would witness her shame. Mariel squeezed her legs against her until her arms ached with the effort.

  Her confession to Kieran had left her raw. Her spirit was battered, and she was exhausted. No longer did she possess the energy to keep her tears at bay or face the hurt of a friend’s stare.

  Her cell door creaked open, and she buried her face against the tops of her knees in a futile effort to hide. She could not face Colin. Not now.

  A heavy blanket eased over her shoulders. Startled, she raised her head and found him gazing down at her, the expression on his face free of accusation.

  His sympathetic smile showed the dimple in his left cheek. “Kieran said ye looked cold.”

  “Colin…” The lump in her throat choked off her words and tears blurred her vision.

  He eased her off the chair onto her stiff legs and said nothing as his arms wrapped around her. He asked no questions, demanded no explanation. He simply held her.

  “I’ll no tell anyone if ye cry,” he said softly.

  And then they came. Bitter tears coursed down her cheeks and melted against the smooth fabric of Colin’s leine. Tears for Jack, tears for Kieran and the pain she’d caused his battered family, and tears for her own miserable, broken heart.

  Colin’s arms tightened around her as she sagged against him and wept for years of pain and humiliation.

  She was too broken to fight.

  • • •

  Kieran studied Blair from across the table. Her hair lay against the blue velvet robe like a sable cape and her hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate. The rare treat had been brought back from the markets of London for her as a means of pleasure. He hated that it must now be used for consolation.

  Not that Blair appeared to need much consoling.

  He had expected many things in her reaction to Mariel’s betrayal, but her blank look of nonchalance was not one of them. She had remained expressionless while Kieran repeated everything Mariel had told him, save the horrifying story of her back.

  Blair gently blew a curl of steam and took a sip before speaking. “You don’t believe her.” It wasn’t a question.

  He straightened, irritated that his doubt was so obvious. “She lied to us. When she speaks, I dinna know what I can trust and what I can’t.”

  Blair tilted her head to t
he side, studying him the same way their mother always had when she knew they were hiding something. “From what I understand, she did not lie, she just didn’t tell the entire truth.” She sipped her hot chocolate again and watched him over the rim of the mug.

  “I dinna understand how ye can be so calm about this. She was sent to report yer location to that bastard of a husband of yers. She tried to kill me. How can ye sit there as though nothing has happened?” His fist slammed the table and upset the warmed ale in front of him.

  Blair righted the overturned cup and wiped up the spill with the same cool composure as she’d taken the news. “Mariel has known about my presence for a while now and has been free to come and go as she pleased. When you were gone, she did not rush away to reveal my location and send my husband to a partially defended castle. Do you know what she did?” Blair did not wait for his response. “She cared for the wounded.”

  “Ye’re too trusting. She could have met with someone when ye werena looking.”

  Her lips pressed into a frown. “She slept in the rushes alongside the injured lest they need her.” Blair grasped his forearm, her fingers warm from the mug she’d cradled. “What happened with Brennan was not your fault, Kieran. You were not the only one who trusted his killer.” She stared directly into his eyes. “No one blames you.”

  Kieran snatched his arm away from her and stood so abruptly, the chair screeched against the stone floor. “Dinna speak of that.”

  How could Blair bring that up now?

  She got to her feet and continued in a gentle voice. “If you stopped hiding, I wouldn’t speak of it. I know the pain that man’s betrayal causes you still.” Her eyes shadowed with her own hurt. Brennan’s murder had affected them all greatly. “You need to understand that you were not the only one fooled by him. Everyone was. No one had any idea what his intentions were.”