“Here.”
“Living here.”
“That is what I mean, aye.”
A short, quiet laugh escaped her. “Forgive me, but this is all very sudden. I dinna know what to make of it. Ye wish to keep me here? What of the rest of the farm?”
“What of them?”
“Will they not question where I came from? Why I am here?”
“Allow me to handle that, please. It is none of your concern.”
“I merely wondered.”
“As I said, there is no reason for ye to wonder. I have it under control.”
“I thought the same thing, myself,” she replied with a rather grim smile. “Yet here I am. Are ye certain ye trust me to keep watch on them?”
“I do.”
“And if I stay, ye will allow Liam to return home? And ye will never breathe a word of his being involved with me?”
“Ye have my solemn vow, lass, and I never break a vow.”
She nodded quickly, distracted by her own thoughts. “I must admit, I am tempted.”
“That will not be enough. Either ye shall do it or ye shall not. I have no time for ye if ye plan to take your time in deciding. Frankly, I dinna believe there is a decision to be made. I am giving ye a way out of paying for your crime, and I believe I’ve been quite generous in offering.”
She rolled her eyes. “Dinna overpraise yourself, I beg ye. If ye were truly a generous soul, ye would allow Liam his leave simply because he is innocent and only wished to join me to prove himself a brave man.”
He grinned. “Aye, well, I suppose I am not truly generous. I need help. Ye need me to forget the fact that I found ye stealing our cattle. It seems this benefits us both.”
She chewed her lip as she nodded again. “I see that.”
“What will it be, then? ‘Tis up to ye. Either ye do or ye dinna.” He folded his hands behind his neck as if he had not a care in the world, even as his heart thumped madly. This was a terrible gamble, and he knew it. She seemed to know it as well, which gave him no great consolation.
“Might I have until morning to think about it?”
He laughed in disbelief. “Lass, I dinna think ye understand.”
“I do understand,” she replied, icy. “But it isn’t so simple for me. Ye still dinna know all, and I will not tell ye all, so dinna bother asking.”
“Fine. I dinna care, either.” He did care. He cared very much. If he was sending the lad back to something unsuitable, he wanted to know. Was that what the lass felt she must protect him from?
And what would his life be like without her there?
She stared over his shoulder, her thoughts elsewhere while she chewed at her lip. Her brow furrowed, her eyes narrowed. For one so young, she bore quite a bit of responsibility.
“Ye have until morning,” he decided, “though that is not far off. Ye might share the bed with your brother while I wait out here.”
“Ye will not go to bed?” she asked, frowning deeper than ever.
“I shall sit up and keep watch. So dinna consider trying to escape,” he added, his voice deepening with unspoken threat. “I will not be so generous next time. And anything we have discussed tonight is forgotten. No mercy for ye or your brother. Do ye ken?”
She nodded as she rose from the table, and the slump of her shoulders was all he needed to see to know she despaired of her decision. Perhaps she despaired of a great many things.
Somehow, for some reason, he wished he could help her.
“Goodnight to ye, then,” he grunted, going to the fire that he might tend it. Yet another night without decent rest. Surely, he could not continue on in this manner for much longer.
Something tugged at the back of his mind, warning him that he’d not get much rest if the lass lived with him. She would either drive him to murderous rage or to something even more dangerous to them both.
12
There was no sense in trying to escape. She saw that clearly.
She also saw that there was no winning. Not anymore. Either she sent Liam back to Malcolm’s abuse, or she kept him with her and subjected him to even worse.
There was no way to protect him.
As she settled into bed beside him—her nose wrinkled at the thought of sleeping in the same bed as the man beyond the closed door—her heart was heavier than it had been since their capture. She worked at the ropes still binding Liam’s wrists, moving slowly and carefully so as not to wake him. The brute had put him to bed with his wrists bound.
Yet the bairns seemed to love him. They certainly did not fear him. And they were sharp, all-seeing. They would surely know if he was a brute, and they would show it through action. They would fear waking him, for waking him would bring wrath down upon their heads.
Children afraid of waking adults would not wander out of bed and ask a perfect stranger if they might accompany her.
What would Malcolm do when only one of them returned? Would he send someone for her? She thought he might consider it, but would then quickly see the error in any such action. It would mean revealing himself as the man who’d told her to do the reiving. He would not wish to expose himself.
She settled in, Liam’s back to her, propping her head on one arm and draping the other over him for extra warmth. It seemed the bairns had gotten most of the furs, for only a single blanket and the sparsest brown pelt covered the bed.
She ought to have asked why the children lived with him and how long they had, but his request had surprised her beyond the point of reason. She’d been sure she’d misheard him, in fact, and had nearly laughed in his face. The idea of it! Her, minding his niece and nephew!
Living beyond Malcolm’s grasp.
Och, but it was tempting. A life spent without that miserable horde.
But without Liam.
Could she convince him to keep Liam with them? No sense in sending him back. But that would seem strange, would it not? Bringing on a lass to mind the bairns was one thing, but her brother as well? And what would he do with his days?
Besides, Malcolm might be better inclined to send someone to look for them if they both remained missing—not because he would worry over them, naturally, but because he would miss the prizes she brought home to him. Liam could explain what had happened and assure him they’d not spoken a word or even revealed his name.
Would that be enough?
She squeezed her eyes shut and wished sleep would come and remove some of the worry from her, for at least a little while. It seemed all she ever did was worry. Would there never be a time when life would be easy? She supposed not. Life was not meant to be easy.
Not for people such as her.
She drew Liam closer when he shivered in an attempt to warm him, and to spend a few minutes more at his side. For he would leave her—she knew there was no other choice she could make. Staying might be just as disastrous as living without her protection under Malcolm’s roof.
If only she could make Drew understand, but that would mean revealing more than she should. No matter how she looked at it, there was nothing to be done.
There was never anything to be done. She never had a choice. There had been no denying Malcolm, just as there was now no denying Drew. Her entire life had followed this path. She’d either been too young to decide for herself, or had no alternative to agreeing to whatever Malcolm wished.
And now, this.
“I did what I could,” she whispered in a voice thick with tears. “I ought to have done more for ye, though. I know that now. I am so sorry. Forgive me if ye can.”
* * *
Morning came too soon.
Drew tapped on the door before opening it a moment later. She had not been asleep, not truly—the best she’d managed was a brief sort of dozing, in which she’d always been aware of her surroundings and of the certain finality of the choice to be made.
Liam woke then, finally. The lad could sleep through an explosion. He lifted one of his hands, turning it about in wonder. “When…?”
“Ye did? And I did not know it?”
“Ye slept deeply.” There would be no such sleep for him at Malcolm’s, not without her keeping the men as quiet as she could, and even that mattered little to them. They would do as they pleased, just as they always had. The brutes.
And she sent him back to them. Would that he might forgive her for it one day.
She exchanged a glance with Drew, whose gaze was heavy with meaning. All right then, she wanted to snap, but she held her tongue. Even half-dead with exhaustion, she knew when to do so.
“Dearest, there is something I must speak with ye about.” She took his hands when he turned to face her. His wide eyes looked into hers, so trusting and sweet and dear. Just the sight of that innocent look he gave squeezed her heart until she was certain it would burst. How was she to live through this with a broken heart?
She had to do it, for his sake. The answer was that simple and was, in fact, the answer to so many questions and hardships. Everything she did was in one way or another for his benefit.
Just as this would be.
“Dear, ye are going to go home.”
His brow creased, eyes now moving over her face as if searching for truth. “Home? What of ye?”
“I shall remain behind and look after the bairns. It truly is better this way.” If only she believed it.
“Nay. Nay! I will not go without ye!” He made a move as if to scramble away from her, but her grip on his hands tightened and held him in place. Drew took a step inside the room as if to hold him still, but the bitter look she shot his way stopped him dead.
She could manage this. She needed no help from him.
“Ye must,” she replied in as soothing a tone as she could muster, given the situation. “Ye must, because it is what I want. If I stay, he will let ye go without telling anyone of what ye did. And I will not be punished, either.”
“Ye will if ye have to stay here!”
She chuckled, shaking her head as her insides twisted and clenched. “Not truly, dear. I prefer this to the thought of being in prison.”
“But he will mistreat ye!” Liam’s pleas turned to angry snarls. “I will not have it! I know ye think me a bairn—”
“Liam.” Drew circled the bed, arms folded across his chest. He looked and sounded as though he was deeply serious. “I dinna think ye a bairn. I think ye a man, and as such I will speak to ye as one. Does that seem fair to ye?”
Liam screwed up his mouth in disbelief, but offered no response.
“This is the truth, man-to-man. I have no designs on your sister of any kind. I respect ye for wishing to protect her, and ye are right in wishing to do so—there are many men in the world who would do what ye have in mind. I am not one of those men. Ye ken there are bairns here. Two of them. My niece and nephew. I have not the first idea of how to raise them, and your sister seems to get on well with them. I will give her a place to live, food, clothing if she needs it, and I will not turn her in to the magistrate for reiving. That is as far as this goes.”
When Liam did not scoff or shout or curse him, as Anne half-expected him to do, Drew went a step further by perching just behind her, on the edge of the bed. “Now. Would ye not rather know she is safe, living in a decent home with decent people, no longer forced to steal?”
Liam gasped before turning to her. “Ye told him! He knows!”
“Och, nay. Silence yourself, lad. I told him little, but he knew ‘twas not our doing. That is all.” She glared at Drew, willing him to be silent on this. The less said, the better.
He seemed to understand, for he said no more on it—then, his indignation turned to sorrow, as she had so feared it would. “I canna go without ye. I canna do it.”
“Ye can, and ye must.” She smoothed a hand over his brow, over the top of his head and down the back until she clasped his neck. “As Drew said, ye are a man. Ye deserve to be treated as such, but ye must also behave as one does. And a man knows what he has to do, though he might not wish to do it.”
She saw his struggle, sensed it clearly. He did not wish to be a man then. He wanted to be a bairn, one allowed to throw himself into his sister’s arms and weep. Bairns were permitted to behave in such a manner, but not men.
His chin quivered, his eyes welled, but he contained his sorrow. Something about watching him do this hurt worse than anything else had thus far. Another bit of his childhood over, never to be seen again.
“I shall have a friend drive ye wherever it is ye need to go,” Drew offered, still behind her.
She stared hard at her brother, once again willing him to understand. They could not lead this friend of his to Malcolm’s home. That was the worst possible outcome, for Malcolm would know he’d been exposed and would take his wrath out on Liam.
Her heart seized at the mere thought.
Liam nodded, brows lowered, understanding. He was a man now, after all.
13
Drew did not consider himself a man lacking in understanding.
In fact, he was a rather soft-hearted man when left to his own devices. Certainly, he’d delivered more than his share of grief to many a man, and he’d never been one to back down needed. Why, he’d followed his cousin through the Highlands, cutting nearly clear across the country, all in the name of reclaiming a birthright.
He’d made the journey without question, knowing there could be terrible consequences—for when one dealt with a man such as the late Ian MacFarland, one willing to murder an old man and woman that he might steal their land from beneath them, there was no telling how the story would end.
Yet he never failed to stop and pay a moment’s respect to his aunt and uncle, lying as they did in their graves. Side-by-side they would remain into eternity, beneath a gnarled tree behind the main house. The house in which they’d met their end.
He was not a hard-hearted man. At the root of all he did was a deep belief in right and wrong, good and evil, and the need for able-bodied men such as himself to stand up and fight should the need arise.
Even so, he did wish the pair of siblings currently bidding each other farewell would get on with it already. He had a day to attend to, and there was still the matter of showing the lass what was what. The bairns were still asleep, heaven be praised, like as not because they’d been up during the night.
He would’ve rather seen Liam make his departure before either of them woke. Too many questions he had no desire to answer.
Not to mention the fact that he would rather not have them mention the incident to Davina.
What to do about her? And Rufus? He mulled this over while pretending not to listen to the whispered conversation which took place behind him. There was no reason why he could not leave the bairns in her care that morning—he hoped. If that was the case, they would have no reason to see Davina and speak of meeting the lass the night before.
Was this all a terrible idea? The more he turned it over in his head, the more he questioned it. Rufus would wish to know where the lass had come from—he could easily explain that away, saying he needed the help and he’d met her in the village or something to that effect.
While he lived on Rufus’s land, they had an understanding that his business was his alone. And Rufus trusted his judgment; he was unlikely to question Drew’s methods.
This caused Drew no small amount of guilt, naturally, as he knew he was taking advantage of his cousin’s trust. It also increased his determination to make certain the lass did not make a fool of him.
Or his family.
He cleared his throat. Would they get on with it or would they not? He kept looking at the door to the bairns’ bedchamber, expecting them to launch themselves from the room as they normally did.
“Are we taking too long a time for ye?” Anne asked. Her voice sounded thick, as though she had only just wept or was about to.
“Aye, ye are.” He turned his head to look he
r way. “Ye must be done with it soon, if ye wish to keep this between us.”
He gave her credit for having good sense, at the very least. She seemed to at last understand the urgency. “Very well.”
He led them outside, where the early morning light had already begun to pool over the farm as everything and everyone awakened. They had not a moment to lose. He signaled to the rider who waited with a cart on the other side of the stone wall.
“Ye trust this man?” Anne hissed as they hurried to him.
“Aye, he’s a good man.”
“How do ye know him?”
“He makes his living delivering goods from Avoch and even as far as Inverness, for those who canna make the journey for any reason. He is trustworthy, and he knows when best to keep his tongue still.” He was also a skilled smuggler, having done so during the Jacobite uprising, but Drew chose to keep this to himself.
Though, knowing the lass’s skill with thievery, he thought they might get on quite well.
Before stepping over the ruined bits of wall, Liam turned back to Anne. His throat worked, his chin trembled, and there was no chance of Drew keeping his heart from going out to the lad.
And it caused him to question whether this was the best course of action. Where was he sending him?
He tugged Anne’s sleeve. “Is he in danger of coming to harm without ye? Is it wrong to send him home alone?”
She shook her head, though he thought the gesture a bit too firm. The determined set of her jaw gave him pause as well. Yet she was certain, and she would be the one who would know best.
Like as not the lad was simply heartsick over the notion of being without his sister, who seemed to be more of a second mother.
They brought to mind memories of Bridget and himself, and especially of the last time he’d seen her.
Perhaps it had been because he was a bairn, the youngest child, the one who normally got underfoot when some important matter was going on. The important matter happened to be his sister’s wedding.
Highland Temptations: Boxed Set: Books 1-3 Page 45