“Who are ye?” Anne demanded nonetheless. Even a lovely stranger could bring great harm. She was moments from sending the twins into the house and charging at the lass.
“My name is Shana Blackheath, and I am a friend of Drew and Davina. My husband is William Blackheath, head of the guard of Laird Richard Munro. Drew sent me back to meet the bairns, and yourself.”
Anne eyed her up, uncertain whether she believed this or not. Owen, meanwhile, tugged at her skirt. “She is bonny,” he whispered before hiding his face, suddenly too shy to show himself.
“Aye, that she is,” Anne agreed, still wary. “I believe the pair of ye ought to go inside and prepare to take your midday rest.”
“Och, Anne.” Moira pouted, but Anne directed her and her twin to the house nonetheless.
“I will be in to check on ye shortly, and ye had better be in bed.” Closing the door, Anne turned to Shana. She was at last part gypsy, that was clear. Bands of them had traveled past Malcolm’s land regularly over the years and at times had stopped to play their music and dance and collect a coin or two before continuing on.
Malcolm had always warned the household not to trust their visitors, but Anne had only ever rolled her eyes at this. The thought of a man such as him warning against others had seemed laughable even at a young age.
Shana offered a shy smile. “Forgive me,” she murmured, taking a few tentative steps nearer the house. “I did not expect to worry you so. The men were busy with a mare who is having difficulty foaling, and I did so wish to meet the bairns who Davina has told me so many wonderful things about.”
“Ye know of them, then?” Anne folded her arms, still uncertain of how she felt about this woman. Strange though it seemed, spending several days with the twins had left her as deeply protective as if she’d known them all their lives.
“Certainly. Davina has corresponded with me quite a bit as of late—though I have never heard of you,” she added, arching one dark brow.
“I came to the farm only days ago,” Anne explained, wishing her cheeks did not flame so. Only those who felt they had something to hide blushed at such a moment.
“That explains it.” Shana’s smile was brilliant, as warming as the sun. “Would you mind if I shared a cup of tea with you? I was unable to have one at the main house, as everyone was either in the stables or confined to their bed.”
“Of course.” If Davina trusted her, Anne supposed she could not be dangerous—even if Anne had never met this Davina or even laid eyes upon her. What a strange turn her life had taken.
They entered the house, which Anne could not help but feel the slightest bit of pride toward. She had scrubbed it nearly from top to bottom, even the bedchambers. Moira had assisted in stripping the beds and refilling the mattresses with fresh, sweet straw.
A pot of stew bubbled on the low fire, filling the house with a mouthwatering scent. “My goodness,” Shana beamed as she untied the strings of her cloak. “You have done a wonder here.”
“Have ye ever seen the house before?” And why did the notion of her doing so send a bolt of jealousy straight to Anne’s heart? The woman had spoken of herself as a friend of Davina and of Drew.
Just what sort of friends had they been?
“Nay, but I can only imagine what it must have been like, run by a man until now. I started with next to nothing in my own home, on Laird Munro’s land.” Shana sat with a contented sigh, stretching her legs before her. “It has been a long journey.”
“Is your husband with ye?” And why was there a tart note to her voice when she asked? Anne turned her back before the visitor could see the sour look on her face.
It did not seem as though Shana noticed. “I rode alone. My husband is quite devoted to his work, and I simply could not wait any longer. I have been so worried for Davina.”
Anne filled the kettle and put it on the fire before reaching for the tea tin. “Aye, I understand she’s had a difficult time of it.”
“She did not seem to be feeling poorly when I visited now. Perhaps it has passed. We can only hope.”
“How do ye know her?” The curiosity surrounding her hosts had all but burned a hole in her brain. There had not been a chance to visit, and Anne could admit to herself that she had hardly made it a priority.
The sense that another woman would see through her in an instant had kept her away.
Shana seemed not to have heard, sitting in silent contemplation. “What brought ye here?”
Anne struggled to recall the tale Drew had created for her. “My parents died, my brother lives with an uncle. I had nowhere to go. Drew required assistance with the bairns, or else Owen might have been torn to bits by an angry sow. I caught up to him as he attempted to reach into the pig pen just this morning.”
“You must be terribly worn out,” Shana chuckled.
“Aye. I know now why Drew wished for help. I hardly know whether I am coming or going between the pair of them.” She rose when the water in the kettle started to steam and went about preparing a pot of tea.
All the while, her thoughts ran wild. What was Shana thinking? Would she ask further questions? Had the answers she’d given thus far been acceptable?
She brought out a load of brown bread and a pot of butter to enjoy with the tea. This was the first time she had ever served tea to a guest. It was not her home, and she had never met the woman before, but then again nothing about her life had ever been quite right.
“Ye are studying me,” Anne observed, pouring fragrant, amber liquid into two mugs.
Shana blanched. “How rude of me. Forgive me, please.”
“There is nothing to forgive, but I dinna wish to pretend not to notice your interest. I find it tiring to pretend, and the twins have already left me far too tired.” She offered a smile to show her guest there were no hard feelings.
Shana smiled as well. “You see, I understand what it means for a stranger to study me. I have seen that sort of stare my entire life. I know the discomfort it brings, and I ought to have known better.”
It was Anne’s turn to pale. “I did not think of it that way. I did not mean to blame ye, either.”
Shana reached across the table to pat Anne’s hand. “Let us put the matter to rest now. Tell me, what do you think of Davina and Rufus? Have you met Clyde?”
Anne took a long, long sip of scalding tea. It was better than admitting she’d never met any of the people whose names Shana had just used.
When she did not offer a response, Shana merely nodded. “Yes. I believe I understand you very well.”
Whatever did that mean?
Perhaps it might have been preferable to go on the attack outside, after all.
17
Drew all but staggered from the stables, grateful to feel a mist against his overheated skin. How was it that the mare had gone to all the trouble of foaling, yet he ached in every muscle, every joint, every bone?
But the birth had been successful, and the two lads whom Rufus employed as stable hands were currently rubbing the wee thing with bits of straw. It would find its legs soon and would grow like a weed before anyone had time to blink.
No matter the difference between horses and humans, he could not keep from thinking on the twins. They would grow quickly, too. In fact, they already were growing. He could hardly keep up with how quickly their minds moved from one new idea to another, or what seemed like hundreds of questions in a single day. They constantly used new words, as well, some of which were unfamiliar to his ears.
Like sponges soaking up their surroundings, both of them, and they were both sprouting out of their clothing.
Soon it would be too late to make much of a difference to them, to the people they would turn out to be. There might have been years between that particular late afternoon outside the stables and the day Owen would be too old to bend over Drew’s knee for punishment, but time had a way of melting past.
It was Anne’s admonishment that had him thinking along these lines. Her warning. The bairn
s would no longer love him—or, if they did, their love would have changed. It would become reserved, perhaps would be offered in hesitation. They would flinch when he closed a door too loudly or stiffen when he made a sudden move.
He had so little time before they were too old to forgive his short temper, his clumsiness.
He might have destroyed things forever if it had not been for her setting him straight.
A rustling noise caught his attention, wiping away his rather unsettling course of thought. This was not unwelcome, as he’d been roughly three seconds from telling himself that Anne’s presence was a blessing in disguise, and that would be a mistake.
Though he knew she was about the place, the sight of Shana Blackheath startled him just as anything out of the ordinary would. He chuckled, shaking his head. “Ye took me by surprise. Ye are the last person I expect to find here.”
She wrapped her traveling cloak more tightly about herself. “Aye, and you surprise me, Drew MacIntosh. You surprise me greatly.”
Her sharp whisper shook him from the weary stupor he’d only just been sliding into. “What do ye mean?”
She looked about, sighed, and crooked one finger in a beckoning gesture. “Come here. Where we won’t be so easily heard.” She led him to the rear of the structure, between two haystacks against the stone wall. The chill was deeper there, in the shadows, but she merely drew her cloak tighter and fixed him with a gaze even colder than the air.
“What’s this about, then?” he murmured, both perplexed and concerned. She’d been with Anne and the bairns. What had happened?
She tilted her head to the side. “I would like to know what you are about. It’s as clear as anything that the lass is lying.”
“Anne?”
“Yes, Anne. If that even is her name.”
“’Tis her name.”
“How are you so certain?”
“Her brother called her Anne. He was a lad of ten years, too young to be convincing if he’d lied.” He looked her up and down, judging his chance of getting anything past her. She was far too shrewd.
Shana’s eyes widened. “So, you admit you have already questioned her honesty? Why, then, is she still on the land?”
“I need help with the twins. I canna allow them to run wild all through the day and like as not break their necks. Someone has to mind them.”
“But her? You could not find someone a bit more… honest?”
“And just what makes ye think she is dishonest?” he finally had the good sense to ask. He ought to have asked that from the start. Lying had never been one of his skills.
She scoffed with a heavy roll of her eyes. “Och, come now. She recited the tale of her parents’ death with no emotion whatsoever, as if she had practiced it in her mind before speaking it aloud. Besides,” she added with a wicked smile. “Her brother is supposed to be living with an uncle, yet you spoke of him just now as if you had met him. Which is it?”
His heart sank like a stone thrown into a pond. She had caught him. It had not even been difficult.
What point was there in lying any further, then? He leaned against the cold, hard stone wall with a sigh. “What would ye have me say?”
“To start, I would have you explain who the young woman is and why she has not yet made Davina’s acquaintance. Who is she in hiding from?”
Drew had just been about to close his eyes, giving up, but her question stopped him. “Hiding?”
“What other explanation is there? Please, do not tell me it is worse than that.”
He recalled the circumstances of their first meeting, how Shana had been running from a brute who’d captured and held her in deplorable conditions. William had saved her, and they’d taken shelter at the farm on their way to Laird Richard’s castle.
Naturally, this was where Shana’s thoughts had immediately gone. For an instant, he considered allowing her to continue believing this. That Anne was in need of protection from someone who wished to do her harm, which was why he’d brought her on as someone to mind the twins.
No one need be the wiser, and he might go on without admitting the truth.
When he offered nothing at first, Shana put a hand to his shoulder and shoved. Not hard, not enough to move him, but enough to shake him a bit and show him how angry he’d made her.
“Why are you now thinking of a way to lie to me?”
“Dinna strike me, woman!”
“I did not strike you. I barely touched you.”
“And this is the thanks I get for saving your life.”
“Do not make me strike you in earnest,” she warned, holding up a fist. “I learned to take care of myself. Think twice before you waste more of my time with yet another falsehood.”
“I dinna know what ye wish for me to say, woman.”
“I wish for you to tell me the truth. If it is something you would rather Davina and Rufus not know, I understand. But if they are in danger…” She shook her finger at him.
He scoffed at this. “They are in no danger. Do ye believe I would place the twins in the care of someone who is a danger to them? The purpose of my asking her to stay was to make certain they were in no danger, for the love of God.”
“What is it, then? What can you not tell them? Why is she hiding herself from them?”
“She is not hiding herself from anyone—at least, not any longer. I dinna know why she has not introduced herself.” Perhaps it the guilt of knowing she had stolen from them. “I have not the time to ask her, nor have I the time to drag her, kicking and screaming, to the house. I canna do everything, ye ken. I have quite a lot of work to attend to without making introductions on top of it.”
“She does not feel as though she can introduce herself.” Shana frowned. “Is she… ashamed of how she lived before this?”
The light blush on her cheeks told him what she meant, and he was barely able to contain a laugh at the thought. “Aye, but not in the way you’re thinking. I dinna wish to know the man in such great need that he would pay that hellcat to warm his bed.”
“She is quite bonny, and you know it,” she hissed. “Do not pretend otherwise.”
What harm would it do, truly, if she knew the truth? “Would ye make a vow that ye will not give her away to Davina or Rufus, or to anyone on this farm?”
“It is that serious?”
“Promise me.”
She chewed her lip, her gaze darting here and there. Wondering if she was about to step into a bad bargain.
“I would not put anyone on this land at risk,” he reminded her. “I mean that.”
“All right.” She sighed. “I vow to keep this between us.”
If nothing else, it would be a relief to share the truth with someone. “She was a thief. She might still be, for all I know. I caught her and her brother as they were moments away from stealing a pair of steers. Not the first time she’d done it, either. She made off with quite a few of them—here and elsewhere—before I caught her in the act.”
Shana gasped. “You would allow a thief—”
“We made a bargain,” he was quick to cut her off before she worked herself into a proper outrage. “If I sent her brother home and did not turn them over for the law to deal with them, she would remain here and care for the twins.”
“Why would you do that? How do you know she’s to be trusted?”
He threw his hands up, staring at the sky. “Because I got the sense that she did not steal of her own doing. She was forced to do so, I mean. By the person or people she and her brother lived with.”
When she shoved him again, he moved further away.
“Enough of that!”
Now it was evident she was truly furious. If fire had leaped from her eyes and set him ablaze, it would have come as no surprise. “You sent the lad back to that? When you ought to have kept him here as well?”
The truth of this rocked him to his core. How could he have been so blind? He ought to have kept Liam. “She… she wanted him to go…”
“
Why? If she cared anything for him, why was she so insistent that he leave?”
“I suppose…” This was truly embarrassing, and he steeled himself for a throttling from Shana’s small, yet very powerful, fists. “I suppose because I threatened to have them punished. More than once, of course. Because they were thieves!” he added as she raised a fist. “Enough of that!”
“I ought to break your head open,” she spat. “Perhaps that would knock sense into you. No wonder she wanted him off the land! A lad of ten! Children do not steal unless they have no choice but to do so. And now, who is to say what the lad is forced to do without Anne there to shelter him?”
Drew groaned as the truth of her accusations sank in. “I dinna know what to do. She will not tell me where he lives, for I’m certain she’ll believe I wish to send the magistrate after him.”
“You ought to send the law after this uncle of theirs, if there truly is an uncle,” she muttered. “Imagine, a man sending a lad and a young woman to do his reiving for him. I would spit on him if he were before me.”
“I would do much worse.” And he meant it, though the truth was, until that moment, he had not given nearly enough thought to the person or people behind Anne’s stealing. In fact, between having his immediate needs satisfied and the continuing arguments between him and the lass, he had not given Liam much serious thought in the days since his departure.
This was not a realization which brought him any measure of satisfaction. He was ashamed of himself.
He slumped a bit, wearier and more heartsick than he had been in quite some time. “I dinna know what’s best to do. I suppose I could ask about, find out what I can.”
“I could draw her out a bit,” Shana offered, and there was a softness to her tone now. “Perhaps she will talk to me if I ask the right questions.”
“Which questions will they be?”
She smiled, but only said, “I will know when the time comes.”
“Ye ought to share them with me. Perhaps it will help.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing.”
“Nay, you would not have said it if you did not mean something.”
Highland Temptations: Boxed Set: Books 1-3 Page 48