Highland Lies (The Band of Cousins Book 4)

by Keira Montclair

  Constance began to pace through the hall while Rose considered what else she wished to say to her mother, but her friend’s gasp stopped her.

  “Oh, Rose. Nay…”

  Rose glanced at her friend, not understanding the reason she sounded so upset. Constance stared in horror at something on the floor in the corner, hidden behind several tables. How she wished she could scream at her friend to tell her what she was looking at, but she could not. As ever, the words were stuck in her throat. She was so discomfited by Constance that her grip loosened a touch on the dagger at her mother’s throat, allowing the odious woman to speak.

  Her mother said the most chilling words she’d ever heard.

  “Your friend is looking at Father Seward. I killed him.”

  Rose jerked her gaze back to her mother.

  “I did the same to your father.”

  The expression on her mother’s face made her want to heave, but worse, her vision began to dim. Her own mother had killed her dear sire, and now she’d killed again. She lifted her gaze to Constance again, surprised to see her run toward the door, her gaze full of fear.

  All she could think was, “Run, Constance.”

  Once the door opened and her friend disappeared, a searing pain erupted in her head.

  The world went black.

  ***

  Roddy was the first to arrive, just as a bolt of lightning ripped across the sky above, bright enough to light up the area. The view reminded him of the night he and Connor had seen the ghost, making him wonder what more could possibly happen. A harrowing scream rent the air as the clouds above them erupted in a downpour. The scream came from a lass running haphazardly down the path, unsure of which way she should go, unaccustomed to the rough terrain. They were still a distance from the castle, so he was surprised she’d made it this far.

  Constance.

  His heart felt like it would explode out of his chest.

  Daniel and Roddy dismounted and raced toward her, Daniel scooping her up and holding her tightly to him so she wouldn’t run away.

  “Constance, calm down. What’s wrong?” Daniel yelled, but the poor lass continued to scream, her fists clenched tight as if she wished to punch something.

  Or someone.

  Roddy noticed the small hut Rose had shown him wasn’t far, so he pointed to it because it would provide them with cover against the pelting rain.

  As soon as they were inside, Roddy reached for Constance’s hand and said, “Constance, where is Rose?”

  She stared at him, the fear in her face so obvious that it tore into his already agitated heart. What the hell had happened to Rose? Were they too late?

  Will, Maggie, and the rest joined them inside the small hut, just barely able to hold them all. Constance continued to shake her head, mumbling incoherently.

  Daniel sat on a stool in the corner and settled Constance on his lap. Then he gently cupped her face with his one hand, turning her gaze toward him. “Constance, look at me. ’Tis Daniel. Remember me? I helped you and Rose at the abbey. Roddy and I are here to help you both. We’ve brought friends with us. Do you remember me?”

  Constance’s gaze locked on his and she nodded, gulping.

  “Good. Rose. Where is Rose?” His tone was so gentle, unlike anything Roddy had ever heard from the boisterous lad with the sharp sense of humor.

  After several swallows, Constance finally explained, “Rose’s mother. She killed Father Seward.” She gripped Daniel’s upper arm. “I saw him. I walked away from Rose and I went past some tables and there he was on the floor. Blood was pooling around him and a knife lay nearby. They had been talking about a beacon in the loch and an exchange. But we overheard them, and Rose wanted to confront her mother. She held her at knifepoint. Rose’s mother…she admitted to killing Rose’s father long ago, and Rose lost her focus. Some man came up behind her and hit her over the head, and I ran, and I don’t know where they took her and…Roddy, please save Rose.”

  He was already pacing back and forth in the small space they had, ready to break into a run. Desperate to get to her.

  “How long ago, lass?” Will asked.

  “A while ago. Mayhap a quarter of an hour or half an hour?”

  Maggie took over. “Roddy, can you lead us to the caves and the dock?”

  Roddy nodded.

  “Who’s the strongest swimmer?” Will asked.

  Gavin, Daniel, Connor, and Braden all pointed to Roddy.

  Maggie issued her instructions. “Constance will show me where she found Father Seward. We’ll check for Rose inside. If we don’t find her, we’ll join you once she’s feeling calmer. Connor, Braden, and Roddy, down to the docks. Will and Gavin, get to higher ground with your bows. Uncle Brodie, would you and Daniel act as our lookouts in the cave?” When he nodded, she continued, “Did anyone see a boat we could use if we need to reach that galley ship?”

  Daniel said, “I saw one rowboat near the dock.”

  “Keep that in mind. Constance, we suspect they’re exchanging lasses. Did you hear any more about their plan? Mayhap how many lasses they have?”

  She nodded, trembling. “Seven. Her mother wanted Rose and me on that boat, too.” With her hand on her throat, she declared, “She wanted to sell her own daughter.”

  ***

  Rose awakened with an awful headache, her hands and feet tied together, something that felt achingly familiar. Male voices echoed around her, but she ignored them, instead trying to figure out where they’d taken her.

  It didn’t take long for the rolling and crashing of the waves to let her know she was on some type of boat. She lifted her head briefly to look about her, only to drop it back onto the rough surface beneath her as a wave of pain pounded through it. Unfortunately, she’d been able to determine one thing when she lifted her head.

  The boat was a large one with many rowers, and they were far from shore.

  “One of them has awakened,” a voice shouted. “What shall I do with her?”

  Another answered, “Naught. ’Tis the one who cannot speak. Do not concern yourself.”

  Her gaze traveled the area around her. Several other lasses were tied up and asleep. She thought she recognized Ada and another girl who ate quietly by herself, but it was difficult for her to focus between the rolling of the ship, her headache, and the streaks of lightning overhead. A storm pounded down on the ship, all lightning and thunder and sheeting rain. The wind caught in the sails, shaking the ship. The boat was what her sire had called a birlinn, and they were tucked in a cargo space with a tarp intended to protect them from the rain, but she was still drenched and shivering.

  She lifted her head again, doing her best not to jolt it, sighing with relief because at least Constance was not on the boat.

  Mayhap she’d gotten away. How she prayed it was so. The last thing she recalled was seeing her friend run toward the door as pain radiated through her head.

  The dagger she’d held to her mother’s throat was almost certainly gone. Despite being tied up, she managed to check her other hidden dagger she’d tucked into her boot. To her relief, the second dagger hadn’t been taken from her. She had a chance.

  Her mother. She’d wished to kill the evil woman who’d slain her father, but she hadn’t. Several tears trailed down the side of her face and landed on the hull of the ship, but she couldn’t allow her emotions to overtake her. She needed to stay strong for Roddy and Constance.

  And for herself.

  Her mother, the evil witch, had been carrying on with Father Seward. The man who’d been so kind to her was a bad man. He’d wanted her more than he’d wanted her mother, and that was what had angered Lady MacDole enough to kill him. But they’d said something about the past…

  Something dark and horrible niggled at the back of her brain. Something too awful to comprehend.

  Her tongue felt swollen and wrong in her mouth, and she found herself thinking of what Roddy had asked her about the tip of her tongue.

  Someone had cut it off
.

  In an instant, she was back on the table years ago, struggling with the ties at her feet and her hands, trying to kick the two men who’d tied her down, two men who had been with her family for years. She’d screamed and cried and kicked. Father Seward had remembered that scream.

  She’d had a voice.

  Her mother had shouted to be heard above Rose’s keening. “Hold her down, I said. How much can a wee lass hurt you?”

  She saw the knife come at her, the hands holding her head fast on either side.

  And then she remembered everything.

  She was outside in a storm that night, too. She and her father were out on the cliffs when the storm unleashed a deluge. They stood there together, watching the lightning, but after a brief spell, he insisted that she return to the castle.

  She agreed because she wasn’t overly fond of storms. Rather than head home through the front gate, she took the other path, the one through the cellars. Just before she entered the caves, she heard her mother’s voice.

  When she looked back, she saw her mother standing opposite her father, screaming at him. She pushed him and he nearly lost his balance, but instead of shouting at the woman, he did the honorable thing and turned away, heading down the path toward the caves. He didn’t even say a word in the face of all of that violent rage.

  Rose closed her eyes because she hated to see her parents fighting. When she finally opened them, it was too late to call out and warn her sire. Her mother gave him a huge shove from behind, forcing him over the edge of the cliffs to a certain death below.

  An endless scream erupted from Rose. Her dear sire was dead. She’d watched her own mother commit murder. She screamed and screamed and could hardly recall what happened afterward until she noticed another man headed straight for her—their steward.

  Her mother was furious with her.

  In a state of shock, she didn’t even attempt to fight the steward when he lifted her up and carried her into the great hall, pinning her to the table while her mother barked instructions at everyone. She fought her bindings, but she lost the battle, blood dripping down her arm because her skin was raw from the rope.

  Her mother came at her in a fury, yelling at the man behind her. “Hold her head.”

  Then she reached in, grabbed Rose’s tongue with some odd tool and used a knife to cut the tip of it off.

  Rose screamed and screamed in pain, both physical and emotional.

  Her mother left her tied to the table for the entire night, the flashing of the lightning paralyzing her in fear.

  The next morning her mother came down and showed her the tip of her tongue, all bloody, and said, “Now, if you ever mention a word of what you saw, I’ll cut your entire tongue out and you’ll never be able to speak again. I’ll send you to an island and leave you there. You are the devil, I swear it.”

  She didn’t remember much after that. She’d gone inside herself, not speaking to anyone because they’d all turned against her. Her mother’s steward, Harold, had been a part of the cruelty. Another man had been present, too—one whose voice she now recognized as that of Father Seward.

  At twelve winters, she hadn’t guessed the truth. Her sire had discovered her mother with another man, and she’d killed him rather than face the consequences.

  The incident had been too much for her to handle.

  She became the perfect child, never speaking, never making any noise, and spending most of her time outside. Until now, the memory of that day had stayed deeply buried, the horror hidden from her conscious mind.

  It was time for that charade to end. She would never again let her mother lead her about, never again believe everything the twisted woman told her.

  Rose edged the knife out of its hiding place and sliced her bonds. Then she pounded at the tarp until it gave way, giving her the ability to push herself to a sitting position. Fortunately, the crew ignored her. The men fought hard to control the sails and the driving wind, oblivious to their cargo. She made her way over to the edge of the boat and opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

  She hadn’t lost the ability to speak at all. She’d buried it deep inside in order to survive, but that time was behind her. She would be strong for Roddy, for her sire, and most importantly, for herself.

  Tears filled her eyes, but she swallowed them down, pushing herself. She tried again, opening her mouth, trying as hard as she could to make any sound at all, but to no avail. Thinking to start small, she attempted a hum, but she failed to get beyond the small whirr she’d always been able to expel.

  She leaned toward the edge of the boat, reaching for the power to project her voice.

  Someone finally saw her, for she heard a man’s voice shout, “Get her. Sit on her, tie her down. Do something!”

  Two men charged straight for her, but an owl swooped down in the billowing wind and flew in front of her. Just as one bastard reached out to grab her, the owl struck the scum’s hands with its powerful talons.

  Her new friend. The owl had to be the same one she’d met at the abbey, and her sire had sent it to assist her.

  She would do this for him, too.

  She closed her eyes, pulled from her belly and opened her mouth. To her delight, the loudest scream she’d ever heard tore loose from her own vocal cords.

  “Roddy!” She was so elated with her accomplishment that she laughed and cried at the same time because it was her own melodic voice she heard.

  “Roddy, Roddy! Help me!”

  Rose could indeed talk.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Roddy, Connor, and Braden all headed toward the dock on foot, having left their horses above the cliff path. To his surprise, the owl headed out over the water, leaving them. As they neared the edge of the loch, an eerie feeling unfurled in Roddy’s belly. His fear of dying had returned.

  The fear that he could not do what he needed to do to save Rose’s life nearly unmanned him, but he wouldn’t let it stop him.

  He would save Rose. He loved her.

  Truer words he’d never thought. He was in love with Rose MacDole, and that love was strong enough to overcome any kind of fear. He’d do whatever it took to keep her from being sent away in that boat.

  The storm pelted on, waves crashing so hard it was difficult for them to hear one another. Roddy lowered his hand to the hilt of his sword as he reached the dock. “There’s no boat. It isn’t here yet,” he roared, shouting to be heard above the din of the storm.

  Connor and Braden came up behind him, their gazes searching the rough waters and the shoreline for any sign of a boat or people.

  Naught.

  Connor shouted and pointed out into the middle of the loch. “There. A birlinn.”

  “Good,” Braden said. “We’re here in time. We’ll catch them when they land and put an end to this. But where are the men on shore?”

  “Shite!” Roddy yelled, dropping his sword on the ground. He began yanking off his plaid and tunic, not stopping until he stood only in his trews.

  “What the hell, Roddy?” Connor asked, stupefied. “What are you doing?”

  “The boat’s going away from us. It’s too far away.”

  He tugged one boot off as Braden said, “You can’t go after it. With that sail up, it’s moving much faster than you can swim. Besides, the waves are so large they’ll overtake you. We need to find that rowboat.”

  Roddy removed his other boot and argued with his cousin. “Then go find a boat and come after me. I’m going in.”

  “Think on this, Roddy,” Connor said. “The lightning could kill you in an instant. And you don’t know if Rose is even on it. She could be inside the castle.”

  He paused, considering the possibility that Connor was right, but a voice came to him just then, very faint but clear as a bell.

  “Roddy!”

  Without a doubt, he was certain he knew that voice. “That’s Rose,” he said in wonder. “I’m going in. Find help to come after us. I can’t bring all the lasses back.”


  “You’re not thinking clearly,” Connor said, grabbing his arm, “Rose can’t talk, remember?”

  As if to disagree with Connor’s statement, the voice called out to him again. “Roddy, Roddy, help me!”

  “That’s Rose. I’d know her voice anywhere.” He’d never felt so sure of anything in his life. His soul recognized her, but how did one explain that?

  Braden said, “Godspeed. We’ll go for help, but you already have some.”

  Roddy dove into the water, not waiting for Braden to finish his comment, but it came to him a second later as it carried across the water. “The owl, Roddy. He flew over here from the area near the ship and now he’s heading back to the ship. We’ll get the boat.”

  He closed his mouth and concentrated on his strokes, pulling from his gut to stay focused.

  Rose needed him.

  And his sweet Rose could speak.

  ***

  Rose assured herself she was as strong as they came. She’d endured torture, brainwashing, and more. She would find a way off this boat.

  The owl had flown away, as if summoned by something, but she’d managed to stop the two attackers. She kicked one in the groin as Roddy had shown her and struck the other in his groin with her fist. Another came at her, so she grabbed the dagger she’d used to cut her bonds and sliced across his leg, causing blood to soak his trews. The brute stepped away from her, bellowing.

  A voice called to her from the inky depths of the firth. “Rose? I’m coming.”

  Roddy. Oh, how she loved him.

  She couldn’t wait to use her newfound voice to tell him so.

  Two more men came at her, and to her delight, the owl swooped back into sight. It struck the man with one of its talons while a falcon landed on the other’s head and pecked him. The big oaf squealed like a laddie.

  “What the hell is with these birds?” someone shouted in a voice edged with fear. Another bird swooped down, slicing into someone’s arm. The bird came at him again, frightening him so badly he jumped over the side of the boat. Men were pulled from their rowing to fight the creatures attacking them from above. Two falcons and the dear owl didn’t let up but continued to dive at the men, scaring a few more overboard. The owl landed on the rigging of the sail and tried to tug it loose, but it wouldn’t come free. Rose reached over with her dagger and cut the rope, collapsing one side of the sail to slow its course.