Highland Vow

by Hannah Howell

  “And mayhap he has enough wit to do just what is needed to have ye keep him at your side.”

  She laughed softly and scratched the cat’s head. “That, too, is a possibility. And now he is a hero. A brave wee laddie who risked his own fair neck just to save me.” She exchanged a grin with Cormac over the cat’s loud purring.

  “That isnae a wee laddie. ’Tis a monstrous great cat.” He reached out across the small space separating their horses and lightly scratched the cat’s head. “And a clever brute who kens how to make himself indispensible.”

  As Cormac nudged his mount into a gentle trot, Elspeth quickly followed suit. She agreed with Cormac’s feeling that it would probably be a while before Sir Colin would be able to trouble them again, but she also felt a small urge to hurry. The attack last night had come too close to costing Cormac and his friends their lives and losing her her freedom. She did not want to go to the king’s court because Isabel was there. However, it could bring her and Cormac some measure of safety. It was now a choice between the risk of losing Cormac to Isabel or watching him die at Sir Colin’s hands. And that, she thought sadly, was no choice at all. It would tear her heart out to lose Cormac to Isabel, but she would rather have that happen than live without him, than live knowing that her troubles with an insane rejected suitor had cost Cormac his life. Far better he was lost to Isabel than lost forever in death’s cold embrace.

  Chapter Nine

  “Alive?”

  Owen and Paul stood facing three scowling Murray lairds and tried not to tremble. They were tired, hungry, and dirty, but they had no intention of recalling Sir Balfour Murray to the rules of hospitality until they had satisfactorily answered his questions. Although he had spoken that one word softly, it seemed to have cut through the tense air in the great hall of Donncoill as well as an enraged bellow. His brothers, Sir Nigel and Sir Eric, did not look any less threatening. Neither Owen nor Paul had the courage to look at Elspeth’s mother Lady Maldie, or her aunts Gisele and Bethia. They had the sinking feeling that those women would be looking far more fierce than their husbands.

  “Aye, Elspeth is alive,” Owen said and hurriedly produced the small ring she had given him. “She sent this with us. She said it would tell ye that she kens we arecoming to ye and approves.” He almost stepped back when Sir Balfour walked over to snatch the ring from his hand.

  “Balfour?” called Lady Maldie, who looked so much like Elspeth it had startled Owen a little.

  Sir Balfour walked over to the woman and enfolded her in his arms, saying hoarsely, “Our bairn is alive, Maldie.”

  “Does that mean we arenae going to be able to kill that bastard Sir Colin?” asked Sir Nigel, his amber eyes hard with anger.

  “Oh, nay,” said Balfour. “It just means we have a chance to bring Elspeth safely home before we kill the mon.”

  “Weel, while ye all decide how, when, and in what ways ye will kill that bastard,” Lady Maldie said as she tugged free of her husband’s embrace, “we ladies shall see to the care of these poor lads.”

  “I have a lot of questions I must ask them,” protested Balfour even as his wife, Gisele, and Bethia started to lead Owen and Paul out of the great hall.

  “Ye can ask them after they have bathed, rested a wee bit, and set some food in their bellies.”

  It was time for the evening meal before Paul and Owen felt ready to face the rigorous questioning they knew the Murrays would put them through. Owen grimaced as they were led straight to the head table, where waited the three Murray lairds, their wives, Sir Payton, and Elspeth’s brother Connor. Owen briefly scowled at Paul when that man neatly manuvered the seating so that Owen was closest to the Murrays, thus in the direct line of attack.

  “My wife told me what little else ye have had to say about my daughter whilst ye bathed and dined,” said Balfour, fixing a stern dark gaze on Owen even as he filled his plate with food. “She is alive, Sir Colin is still on her trail, Sir Cormac saved her, and the two of them are making their way to the king’s court.”

  “Aye, sir.” Owen also filled his plate, pleased by the quality and quantity of the food, yet not sure he was going to be able to relax enough to enjoy it. “She and Cormac were safe enough until Sir Colin sniffed out the direction they were headed in. There was one fierce attack and it cost Sir Colin five mercenaries. ’Tis then that Cormac decided to return to the more crowded roads and sent us to tell ye where he and Elspeth are headed. He feels that, if Sir Colin persists, and if Cormac doesnae get the chance to kill him, there could be danger even at the king’s court.”

  “And do ye ken how Sir Colin justifies stealing my lass and then hunting her down?”

  “He is telling all who will listen that Elspeth is his betrothed wife and that Cormac has stolen her.”

  Balfour cursed. “And not one Murray about to contest that vile lie.”

  “Young Cormac does have a true skill for being accused of crimes he hasnae committed,” said Lady Maldie.

  “Aye, he does that, m’lady,” replied Owen. “He also kens that, if Sir Colin gets to the king, he may whisper that lie into our liege lord’s ear and be believed. I think that may be another reason he decided it was now even more important to try to reach some of her kinsmen.” Realizing that the Murrays were probably not going to ask too many questions about what might be happening between Cormac and Elspeth, Owen relaxed and began to enjoy his meal.

  “I will go to court to fetch Elspeth,” said Payton.

  “Nay,” cried his mother, Gisele. “Ye are barely healed from your wound.”

  Owen ate as he listened to the argument that ensued. Sir Payton’s mother took a lot of convincing and extracted several promises before reluctantly agreeing. It was clear that Payton felt a need to redeem himself, for it was while Elspeth was in his care that she had been abducted. By the time Owen and Paul were ready to seek their beds it was decided that Sir Payton and a small force of men would rest and prepare on the morrow, then leave for the king’s court at dawn the next day. Owen regretted the fact that he and Paul could not go along with them, but they were already late in responding to a summons from Paul’s father. He was not surprised, however, when Payton caught up with him and Paul just outside of the bedchamber they had been given to use.

  “There are things ye didnae tell the elders,” said Payton, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall and watched the two men closely.

  “I believe we gave your kinsmen all the information needed,” replied Owen.

  “Aye, all that was needed, but nay the full truth.”

  “And what do ye think I have lied about?”

  “Oh, nay, dinnae act as if I insult ye. I dinnae speak of lies. I speak of things left unsaid, truths left untold.”

  “If things were left unsaid, mayhap that is what all concerned wished,” Paul said quietly.

  “All or just your friend Cormac?” Payton asked.

  “All.”

  Payton smiled faintly. “I dinnae ken why, but Elspeth and I have always been close. Dinnae fear for your friend. I ken weel how my cousin feels about the fool and just what she might do with what she would see as a perfect chance to fulfill a dream. Sadly, I also ken that her bonny knight is nay a free mon, that that whore Lady Isabel Douglas holds him tight in her murderous little fist. I would but like a hint of what I might find when I reach my cousin.”

  Owen and Paul looked at each other for a moment before Paul said, “’Tis hoped that ye will find that Cormac has saved her from Sir Colin and that the bastard is dead. ’Tis also hoped that ye will find that Elspeth has saved our friend.”

  “Muddy, where are ye going?” cried Elspeth as her cat suddenly leaped from his carrier.

  Cormac reined in beside Elspeth even as she began to dismount. “Mayhap he just had a sudden need for a patch of dirt.”

  “Oh.” She hesitated, frowning in the direction her cat had gone, then she shook her head. “Nay, something is wrong.”

  “Elspeth,” Cormac sai
d, but he could not fully repress a smile, “’tis just a cat.”

  “I ken it, but my instinct tells me to follow him.”

  Sighing in resignation, Cormac dismounted when she started after her cat. “Foolish beast,” he muttered and began to tether the horses. “It probably just saw something that looked like food, but I must now follow them on this fool’s errand. She has gone off alone.”

  He hurried after her, softly cursing her impulsiveness. It was an endearing part of her nature, except when there was a madman at her heels. Cormac had thought she had finally understood the danger. When he reached her and found her kneeling by something on the ground, he prayed she was not about to collect some other poor beast.

  Elspeth saw Muddy sitting by what looked like a bundle of rags. She frowned a little at the way the cat stared so intently at that bundle; then she noticed that the tiny clump of rags had a plump little arm and was waving it around even as it gurgled happily. It took a moment before she could shake free of her astonishment. Then Elspeth moved closer to peer at the baby. A quick look around revealed no supplies, nothing more than the ragged swaddling around the baby, and the only other person near at hand was the scowling man marching up to her.

  “Oh, ye poor wee thing,” she crooned as she removed the infant’s rags and found no sign of injury. “Ye have been cast aside, havenae ye?” After rewrapping the child, she picked it up in her arms.

  “Oh, nay, not a bairn,” Cormac complained as he reached her side.

  “Someone has just left him here, Cormac,” Elspeth said, her outrage trembling in her voice. “Just tossed the poor, wee lad aside as if he is nay more than a bundle of soiled rushes.”

  “Why are ye staring at me like that?” he demanded when he lifted his gaze from the child.

  “I was waiting for ye to tell me that I am wrong or foolish, naught but a suspicious fool. That no one would just toss this poor bairn away.”

  Cormac sighed and dragged his fingers through his hair. Elspeth looked appalled and hurt. The shock he could easily understand, but not the hurt. It was as if this callous act had struck her to the heart. It was as if she was feeling all the pain of rejection the baby was too young to feel for himself.

  “Mayhap the mother or father has but slipped away for a moment.” It was a pathetic attempt to disguise the ugly truth, but Cormac felt strangely proud of himself when Elspeth gave him a wide smile of gratitude and kissed his cheek.

  “Ye are sweet, Cormac,” she said, then grew solemn again. “But now that my shock has faded, I ken the truth. Someone has thrown her bairn away, left him here to die. Such cruelty. Why not leave the bairn at the church? It may give a lad such as this a hard life, but ’tis life all the same. Far better that than becoming some beastie’s meal.”

  “’Tis strange for a lad to be cast aside. ’Tis often the lasses who get abandoned if a family has too many mouths to feed.” He sighed. “Elspeth, we cannae take the bairn with us.”

  “Weel, we cannae leave the poor wee laddie here.”

  “Oh, nay, and I wasnae meaning that we should. ’Tis just that we are running from a killer. It may not be safe for the bairn. He isnae a cat ye can stuff in a carrier, but which will take care of itself for the most part.”

  “The bairn obviously comes from that village.” Elspeth nodded toward the small cluster of buildings just beyond the foot of the small knoll she and Cormac stood on.

  “Aye, I suspect he does. A bastard, mayhap. Some lass’s dark secret.”

  “This bairn is no newborn, Cormac. Aye, a lass may be able to hide the fact that she is carrying some mon’s bastard, but ’tis near impossible to hide the infant once it arrives. Bairns tend to be verra noisy creatures.” She looked back at the village. “Someone down there will ken where he comes from. If that isnae any help, surely someone will be willing to foster a healthy male child.”

  Cormac was relieved to hear her speak of finding the child a home. “Are ye sure he is healthy?”

  “Aye, I looked beneath the rags. The lad is perfect. Plump, healthy color, and of a good temper, I think. Oh, and he has the cutest wee birthmark low on his round little belly. It looks just like a star.”

  As he stared into the infant’s bright black eyes, Cormac began to feel uneasy. A plump, healthy male child should not have been cast aside. Unfair as it might be, male children were considered of far greater worth than girl children. Elspeth was right to think that someone would take the boy in, yet why had no one done so yet?

  Hiding his sudden doubts, Cormac helped her walk back to the horses. He held the baby while Elspeth settled the cat in its carrier, then mounted. As he handed her the baby, he had the sinking feeling that their entourage had just grown by one—one completely helpless, demanding bairn.

  Elspeth frowned as they rode into the village. At first everyone seemed friendly enough. Then the person who had just greeted them would see the cooing child she held and become silent and wary. They would look at her as if she had committed some grave sin by bringing the child she carried into their peaceful village. It was as if they feared the helpless baby she held, yet that made no sense at all. What person with any wit could fear a tiny child?

  While Cormac stabled the horses, Elspeth set about trying to discover who had borne the child. She knew she would not be able to give the baby back into the arms of the woman who could abandon her own child, but she did want to ask the woman why she had done such an appalling thing. After several people took one look at the baby, then rudely walked away before she could speak to them, Elspeth cornered a well-dresssed woman of middle years.

  “Dinnae ye dare walk away from me,” Elspeth snapped, halting the woman’s attempts to get around her. “I but need to ask a few questions and yet ye all flee from me as if I am covered in plague sores.”

  “Weel, what do ye expect when ye bring that devil child here?” the woman said, hastily making the sign of the cross when she saw that the baby was looking at her.

  “Devil child? What foolishness is this? ’Tis but a wee bairn and I seek its mother.”

  “The bairn’s mother was hanged, then burned as a witch only a few days ago.”

  “Sweet Jesu,” Elspeth whispered. “So ’twas one of ye who set the child out to die?”

  “Aye. We cannae keep such a child with us. He carries the devil’s mark.”

  “That wee star upon his belly?”

  The woman nodded. ’Tis the devil’s mark. His mother consorted with the devil. Oh, aye, she tried to claim it was some lordling who wandered through on his way to see the king. She wanted us to believe he seduced her and left her with child, but she was e’er wild and sharp of tongue, and had no morals at all. When this appeared with its black hair and black eyes, we all kenned the truth. His mother was as fair as fair can be, yet look at the thing she pushed out of her womb. Dark as Satan the bairn is and kissed by the devil. Nary a one in the village wanted to curse themselves with such a misbegotten child, so we set it on the hill.”

  “To die. Ye left a wee bairn on a hill to die, to be savaged by animals or starve or die of cold.”

  “We left Satan’s heir to his care or God’s judgment.”

  Elspeth dearly wanted to beat the woman. “Go away.”

  “Eh? Ye are the one who demanded I stand here, close to that wee demon, and risk my soul being tainted, just to answer a few questions. Now ye snarl at me and tell me to go away.”

  “Aye, and if ye have any scrap of wit in that head, which I doubt, ye will leave verra, verra quickly.”

  It did not surprise Elspeth when the woman turned pale and looked frightened. Her voice had been so hard and cold, thrumming with fury, that it had even made her shiver. Holding the baby close and stroking his thick raven curls, she watched the woman hurry away. The spite and the superstitious nonsense that had come out of that woman’s mouth made Elspeth feel ill. She thanked God that the child she held was too small to understand any of the woman’s hateful words.

  There had always been some beli
ef in witches. Because of their healing skills, her mother and she had inspired not just a few whispers. But Elspeth had never confronted such a depth of belief before, the sort of belief that would cause people to brutally kill one of their own or put a tiny baby on a hill to die. She was shaking with the strength of her anger and disgust. There was absolutely no way she would ever leave this child in this village. Cormac would just have to understand that.

  Cormac watched an older woman practically run away from Elspeth. She had almost the same expression on her round face as the widow had had after he had left her alone with Elspeth for a few moments. He looked back at Elspeth and frowned. It was hard to believe someone that sweet of face and that delicate of body could do or say anything that would so frighten someone. Yet it was obvious that Elspeth could and did.

  As he drew nearer to Elspeth he noticed that she was standing tensely. By the time he reached her side, he could see that she was trembling faintly. Worried, he put his arm around her and studied her too pale face. When she met his gaze he realized she was furious. He also realized that she still held the child.

  “Ye havenae found out who the mother is yet?” he asked.

  “Oh, I ken now, after I forced someone to talk to me.”

  “Aye, I saw her. ’Tis clear the conversation wasnae pleasant. She wasnae the mother, was she?”

  “Nay, she was probably one of the ones who lit the fire beneath the woman who was though. It seems the laddie’s mother was tried, convicted, and burned as a witch only a few days ago. I suppose one should be pleased that they were all merciful enough to hang the woman first. I but pray it killed her or so nearly did so that she wasnae sensible when they set her alight. Then they set this wee bairn out to die.”

  “Jesu.” Cormac looked at the child and sighed. “What made them think that the woman was a witch?”