Fraser 02 - Highland Quest

by B. J. Scott

  “Given what I’ve just witnessed, I’d say he has regained sufficient strength to do many things. Besides, when I was in the village today, I heard rumors that the MacDougalls are on their way back from Carlisle Castle. They should arrive in the next day or so, and it would be better if Bryce is not here when they return.”

  Fallon studied her uncle’s downtrodden expression then asked, “There is something else troubling you besides the return of the MacDougalls. What is it?”

  “The Bruce’s brothers were tried and executed for treason. If they find out that Bryce is still alive, I am sure they will show him no quarter.”

  Bryce’s face drained of color, his expression tightening to one of anger. “Your uncle is right. I will ready myself and leave as soon as you bring me something to wear. I’ll not put you in jeopardy. My mission is now more important than ever.”

  Fallon offered no argument. While they’d only spent a short time together at Buccleuch and later at Fraser Castles, she’d learned that once Bryce made up his mind, he was not easily swayed. She moved to a shelf near the door and picked up his tunic and trews. “I washed and mended these for you. Please try not to get any more holes in them.” She handed him the clothes he’d been wearing the day he was brought to her uncle’s croft.

  “I’ll do my best to keep them in one piece.” After pulling the shirt over his head, he tugged on his trews, then stood and tied the drawstring at his waist. “Have you my boots?” he asked while holding onto the table for support.

  “They are by the door.” Fallon retrieved them and slid out a chair for him to sit upon. “I wish you would at least wait until morning to leave. Your face has paled and you’re sweating.”

  “I’m fine.” He snatched a boot from her hand, slid his foot in, then quickly donned the other one. “Have you a horse I can borrow, Donald?”

  “Aye. I have several fine mounts in the field. The bay is the fastest, but the dubh has more stamina.”

  “I’ve no coin, but will return the horse and pay for the use of it when I come back this way.” He looked at Fallon and winked. “I’ll take the black.”

  If he was trying to ease her mind, it didn’t work. She was not fooled by his brave front, or his promise to return. Her heart clenched at the thought of never seeing him again.

  “Fix him some provisions, Fallon, while I go and fetch the horse. When you are ready to leave, Bryce, I’ll meet you in the stable.” Donald gave them both a wary glance before he left the croft.

  Fallon removed a canvas sack from the shelf then began to fill it with dried fruit, cheese, and oatcakes.

  “That won’t be necessary. You have already done enough.”

  “It’s no trouble. I may not be able to convince you to wait, but won’t have you starving along the way.” She kept her back to him as she worked.

  Bryce closed the gap between them. She heard his footsteps, felt his warm breath on the back of her neck as he spoke, but didn’t turn around.

  “Please dinna be angry with me, Fallon. I could not bear to think you held me any ill will. This is for the best.” He gently touched her shoulder.

  “Dinna leave.” She dropped the sack and whipped around to face him, the words escaping before she could stop them. “Why must you go? Why must you risk your life?”

  “You know why.” He yanked her against his chest and captured her mouth.

  But this time she did not fight his advances. She wrapped her arms around his neck, responding with equal enthusiasm to his kiss. Her lips parted, welcoming the sweep of his tongue. As he deepened the exploration, her knees buckled, and she clung to his tunic as if her life depended on it.

  Unshed tears stung her eyes, but she managed to blink them away. This might be the last time they would see each other and she suddenly found herself wanting a memory that would last forever. What she was about to ask was wrong, and could only lead to heartache. While she knew she should fight temptation with her last breath, she was only human.

  “Join with me, Bryce,” she whispered against his lips.

  He drew his head back and stared at her in disbelief. “Do you have any idea what you are saying? What about your uncle?” he asked on a strangled breath. “He’ll see me drawn and quartered if he finds us together. I canna say I would blame him if he chose to run me through.”

  “He’s gone to fetch the horse. The field is at the top of the hill and by the time he grooms the beast and readies the saddle, we’ll—”

  He muffled her words with a kiss and at the same time fumbled to open the laces of her gown. “I want you, Fallon.” His hands slid along the swell of her breasts and cupped them gently. “You’re so beautiful.”

  When he pressed his lips to the base of her throat, she closed her eyes and dropped her head back, giving him better access. The hot trail of kisses branded her flesh as he moved ever closer to his prize.

  Her breasts grew heavier with each stroke of his thumbs, straining to be released from the confines of fabric. Taut nipples ached to be suckled. He ignited a passion she had never known and an urgent need that threatened to consume her body and soul. To give in to her fervent desires was a sin, but she no longer cared about the consequences.

  The sound of her uncle’s voice coming from just outside the croft not only brought her crashing back to reality, but to her senses as well. She clutched the neck of her gown and backed away. “I’m sorry. We canna. Not now. Not like this.” She turned and ran toward the back door.

  “Fallon wait. Please let me—”

  Bryce called after her, but whatever else he wanted to say became muffled when she closed the door behind her.

  When he didn’t follow, she heaved a sigh of relief. With her back resting on the door, she closed her eyes.

  How could she have allowed things to get so out of hand? Did she honestly think that offering herself to him like a brazen harlot would make him stay? Until now, she didn’t realize to what length she’d go to keep him by her side. Ashamed of her wanton behavior, she vowed never to give in to desire again. Bryce was leaving and there was nothing she could do to stop him. She had but two choices to make. Either she saw him away and wished him God spede, or repeated the same mistake she’d made when she left Fraser Castle and allow him to go without saying goodbye.

  Her decision swift, she fisted her skirt and ran toward the stable. If anything were to happen to him . . . She paused, quickly crossed her heart, then darted forward. She’d never forgive herself for letting him leave without a proper send off.

  As she rounded the front of the croft, she slowed her pace to a brisk walk. Saying goodbye was one thing, but appearing a desperate fool entirely another.

  Bryce led the black gelding from the stable. His movements were guarded, but he appeared far more able-bodied than she’d anticipated. Still, if he pushed himself too hard or met up with an enemy along the way, he’d certainly be at a disadvantage.

  By the grace of the Almighty, the sword had missed his heart and lungs. However, it would take a bit of time before he regained the strength and full use of his arm. Being left handed was not only a curse according to Scottish superstition, but also a disadvantage with such an injury.

  “Take this with you.” Donald handed Bryce a claymore and the baldric he’d been wearing when they found him on the bank of the loch. “You might have need of them.”

  “Thank you.” Bryce secured the weapon on his back. “I am grateful for your help,” he said as the two men grasped forearms and exchanged a hardy shake.

  “Do you have everything you need?” Donald asked.

  “Aye. Fallon packed me a satchel of food, I have a wineskin of ale that I can later fill with water, and this sound horse.” He tied the supplies and a length of plaid to the back of the saddle and prepared to mount. “Please say goodbye to Fallon for me and thank her for the wonderful care.”

  “Women can be a peculiar lot. They often have trouble saying farewell, so mayhap it is better you depart this way.”

  “Do I mea
n so little that you would leave a missive with my uncle rather than say goodbye in person?” Fallon sauntered toward him with her head held high. Spying her herb basket on a stump beside the garden, she quickly retrieved it, and reached inside. “Take this with you as well.” She handed him the same dirk she’d used to cauterize his wound. “It saved your life once. Mayhap it will prove to be lucky in future.”

  Bryce glanced at the fire-blackened blade. “I’m sure it will be.” He tucked her knife in his boot.

  “Do you have far to go?” She took a step closer and gazed up at him.

  “A day’s hard ride, two at best, but I dare not tell you any more. The less you know the safer you will be.”

  “A wise decision, lad.” Donald thumped Bryce on the back. “Safe journey and take care. I’ll leave the two of you to say farewell.” With a curt nod, he disappeared into the croft.

  “He’s a good man.” Bryce closed the distance between them. “Most would have turned me over to the authorities and collected the price on my head.”

  “Aye, he is a wonderful man, and I love him dearly. He has been like a father to me.”

  “Where are your parents, Fallon?” he asked softly.

  She blew out a trembling breath. Funny how in all the times they’d talked, she’d never shared that tidbit of information. “My mother died in childbirth when I was ten, and my father was killed at the battle of Falkirk.”

  His eyes shadowed. “I’m sorry.”

  She swallowed the knot in her throat at the thought of her beloved parents and continued. “Though she knew it was dangerous for her to have more children, my mother was willing to risk all to give my da a son. She and the babe both died that night.” She closed her eyes briefly at the image of the blood-soaked sheets, the blood covering her arms to her elbows, the cord wrapped tightly around the infant’s neck.

  “My da was away that night. You see, he was a strong supporter of William Wallace. They were engaged in a battle and he couldn’t be there. I tried to save my mam and brother, but I failed. Both my parents died doing what they believed was their destiny.”

  Bryce tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t know how to fail, Fallon. God’s plan is mysterious to all of us. You were but a wee bairn with adult responsibilities.”

  She shook her head. “Nay. You are a kind man, Bryce Fraser, but I saw the blood, in a vision, and I did naught to warm my mother.”

  He caught her face between his firm hands, forcing her to meet his sympathetic gaze. “Do you really believe you could have changed what had happened?”

  “Mayhap.” She lowered her gaze. She couldn’t stand the pity and understanding in his eyes.

  “Nay. But you are one remarkable woman, Fallon. I’ll miss that.”

  She couldn’t respond to the kindness and warmth in his voice. How could she risk her heart?

  “I dinna think you wanted to bid me farewell, or I’d have come looking for you.” He brushed her ear with a kiss.

  The simple gesture sent a shiver of desire racing to her very core. She inhaled slowly and waited for her pulse to stop pounding before she spoke. “I made that mistake once and dinna intend to do it again. While I wish you would stay and allow your wounds to heal fully, I understand how important duty and honor are to you.”

  “About what almost happened between us in the croft. I dinna mean to take advantage of the situation. Nor did I wish to lead you astray. I—”

  She placed her fingers against his lips. “Please. I was as much to blame and would really like to forget it ever happened.”

  “Consider it forgotten.” Bryce clutched her hand and kissed her fingertips, but she pulled out of his grasp and backed away.

  She unfastened a pendant from around her neck and placed it in his palm. “My mother gave this to me when I was only a sprout. She bid me wear it always and promised it would protect me.”

  Bryce studied the silver star-shaped talisman suspended on a length of leather. A brilliant emerald sat in the center. She didn’t dare voice her belief that the precious gem held protective powers. Though Bryce accepted much about her, she feared that would be too much for him to believe.

  “I canna take this. It means too much to you.” Bryce tried to give it back, but she closed his fist around the gift.

  “You will take it and keep it with you. Promise me you’ll wear it.” She peered up at him through tearful eyes and smiled. “Now be off.” She turned to walk away, but he grasped her elbow and drew her into an embrace.

  “Not without a goodbye kiss.” He lowered his head and their lips were about to touch when he hesitated.

  Fallon closed her eyes and waited, but when the kiss did not come she looked at him in disbelief. “What’s wrong?”

  “Your uncle is staring out the window, watching my every move,” he whispered. “He has been so kind, I dinna want to show him any disrespect by making improper advances.”

  Fallon glanced over her shoulder, and spotted Donald as he disappeared behind the curtain.

  Once again Fate had stepped in when they were about to share an intimate moment. Mayhap it was sign. Standing on tiptoe, she kissed him soundly, then moved away. “Take that with you, Bryce, and be careful. She turned and scurried into the croft.

  Chapter 4

  “No! Dinna go. Please come back,” Fallon called out to the brown-haired man, but he paid her no mind.

  Wrapped in a shroud, he walked with stealth away from her. According to Scottish lore, this was a very bad omen to be sure.

  Her breath caught and her chest tightened when a woman with fiery red hair came into view and blocked his path.

  Desperate to keep them apart, Fallon tried to hurry forward, but she couldn’t will her legs to move. She called out again, but this time she had no voice.

  It was too late to intervene.

  The red-haired beauty flashed the man a smile and beckoned him to her side with a wave of her hand.

  The man quickened his pace, closing the distance between them. He pulled the woman into his arms and buried his face in the curve of her neck.

  Fallon gasped. With her hand clutched to her throat, she watched in horror as the woman’s once comely features transformed into those of a wrinkled old hag.

  The man raised his head and glanced over his shoulder, revealing his identity as the woman prepared to claim his soul.

  “Bryce. No!”

  Fallon’s head snapped back and her eyes flew open. Her heart hammered against her ribs, her stomach twisted with fear, and her chest constricted. She couldn’t breathe. While she was aware the events in her vision were symbolic and not real, they still unnerved her greatly.

  The Scots were deep-rooted in their mythical heritage and belief in the power of magic, both good and evil, especially the Highlanders. Unwelcome visits from the taibhs, spirits who resembled those about to die, haunted her dreams.

  While she should be accustomed to the premonitions by now, they never failed to catch her off guard, leaving her physically and emotionally drained. Especially when they showed the possible demise of someone she cared about.

  Fallon shuddered at the thought of her most recent vision. She had to warn Bryce, to do something to intervene or he’d die at the hands of his enemy.

  “Where is he?”

  The gruff male voice caused the hairs on the back of Fallon’s neck to bristle. She spun around, her eyes locking with the hostile gaze of a robust warrior dressed in a heavy linen gambeson, a tunic of mail and brandishing a claymore. She immediately recognized the plaid often worn by the Clan MacDougall draped over his shoulder. A few feet behind him stood two of his burly clansmen, one on either side of her uncle. She sucked in a short, sharp breath and averted her eyes, trying not to stare at Donald’s disheveled appearance, the bruises on his face, or the jagged cut above his left eye. There was no doubt in her mind he’d suffered a brutal beating at the hand of these scoundrels.

  “I told you she just arrived and knows nothing about the man you
seek. She—”

  The warrior to Donald’s left delivered a punishing blow to Donald’s stomach, silencing his slurred words.

  “Who are you? Why do you hold my uncle in chains?” Fallon raised her chin and glared at the MacDougall leader. She already knew the answer, but had caught her uncle’s discerning stare and the quick shake of his head before he doubled over in pain.

  “My name is Dungal MacDougall.” He widened his stance and crossed his arms over his muscular chest, an act that made him look even more imposing. He took a menacing step forward and studied Fallon like he was judging a prize horse at an auction. “Mayhap the old man is telling the truth. I would have remembered one so fair.” He stroked her cheek then lifted a lock of her hair.

  To keep from reacting to his vile touch, Fallon stared straight ahead and clenched her fists in her skirt. She wanted to swat his paw away, to tell him how disgusting she found his uninvited advances, but feared the repercussions would fall squarely on Donald’s shoulders.

  Dungal’s lips curled in an evil grin. “You are a coy little minx, but I tire of this game. The man I seek is an enemy of the English crown. He is a fugitive from justice. We have reason to believe your uncle offered him refuge—a treasonable offence. Tell me where Bryce Fraser is or your uncle will suffer for your insolence.”

  “She knows nothing,” Donald sputtered.

  “My uncle speaks the truth. You are welcome to search the croft and the grounds if you wish, but you’ll find no one.” She stepped aside, giving him access.

  Dungal inclined his head in the direction of the hut. “Take a look.” On his orders, two of his clansmen moved forward to check it out.

  The minutes seemed like hours until the men returned. “There is no one inside, but it has been over a sennight since the battle. He could have come and gone.”

  “Fraser was badly injured when I left him to die on the beach. I should have beheaded him and made sure he dinna live. The next time we meet, he willna be so lucky.” Dungal returned his attention to Fallon and moved to within inches of where she stood. “I will ask you again. Did you and your uncle tend to Bryce Fraser’s wounds and help him to escape?”