“Do you want to come sleep with us?” she asked.
His eyes jumped to hers. “Always, Deirdre.” He raised his hand and tucked her hair behind her ear. She waited, breathless. Was he going to kiss her? His fingers trailed along her jaw toward her chin, and his gaze dropped to her lips.
A soft knock sounded at the door. He sighed and rested his forehead against hers. “But not now. Things are afoot. I need you to get dressed and come downstairs. I’m going to carry Ewan back to the nursery, and Annag will stay with him.”
Cold invaded her body, chasing away the heat his touch had kindled. “What is it? Are you leaving for war already?”
“Nay, Deirdre. Not yet. We received word that Lewis is on his way back. He wishes to speak with us without Laird MacIntyre or Boyd present. He has further information about his father’s plans and Ewan’s kidnapping, I believe. And he’s asked to see you before he leaves.”
Her eyes widened. “Where’s he going?”
“I doona know, but our messenger said he has two women and several children with him. And he left a packed cart on the road. Deirdre, it looks like he’s running.”
“Running? But where would he run to?”
“I doona know.” He paused. “He may ask you to go with him.”
“Nay! I willna leave. This is my home now. You said so.”
“Of course, it is.” He gave her a tight hug. “And I doona want you to go.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed back.
“Do you know who the other people with him might be?” he asked.
“I have no idea. Unless he brought one of the families from the keep with him.”
“Maybe. He should be here soon. We can ask him.” He pulled back and kissed her quickly on the lips. She fancied that it was almost as if he couldn’t help himself and hoped he felt the same as her—that if the kiss was any longer, he wouldn’t be able to stop it.
He rose and strode quietly around to Ewan’s side. “Get dressed but wait for me here. We’ll go down together.”
She nodded, threw back the covers, and rose from the bed as he picked up Ewan. When he straightened, his gaze dropped from her face and drifted down her body. His eyes darkened as he looked at her. Her pulse began to race, and she glanced down at her white linen shift. The tie was fastened, and the material billowed away from her body. What could he possibly see of her, especially with only the candle behind her for light?
He made a strangled sound, and her eyes widened with concern.
“Are you alright?” she whispered.
His lips tweaked at the corners. “Nay, you’ll be the death of me. Get dressed, love. I’ll return shortly.”
He left with Ewan, and she quickly moved to a stand with a basin of water on top. After splashing her face to wake herself fully, she rinsed out her mouth and brushed her hair. Then she had a quick wash with the wet cloth and lavender-pressed soap.
She was just pinning her arisaid in place over a fresh chemise when he knocked. “I’m coming,” she said.
She grabbed her shoes and ran for the door. He’d already opened it and waited for her there. His eyes fell on the shoes in her hands before his gaze raised to hers once more. “Not so long ago, I waited for you to get your shoes before we left your keep. You were verra afraid, and I was verra angry. I’m so sorry I put you through that, lass.” He took her shoes from her. “Here. Let me.”
He kneeled in front of her, and she felt the prick of tears in her eyes as he slipped first one shoe, then the other onto her feet. He rose, grasped her hand, and led her down to the great hall. Isobel hurried toward them as they reached the bottom step. “I heard the noise and followed everyone down. I ne’er went back to sleep after I returned to my own chamber. What’s going on?”
“Gavin said that Lewis is coming here, and he wants to speak to me.”
“Your husband, Lewis?”
Gavin stiffened beside her, and she squeezed his hand. “Aye, that Lewis.” She avoided calling him “husband” to spare Gavin’s feelings. He squeezed back, then released her and strode toward his brothers, standing in a group talking to a young MacKinnon warrior whom she thought was named Finn.
“What does he want?” Isobel asked.
“I doona know.” Deirdre sat on the edge of the dais and waited, Isobel sitting down beside her.
“Are you mad at him?” Isobel asked.
“Lewis?”
“Aye, Lewis. For not being there to protect you when Gavin and Kerr stormed your keep. For not demanding your return earlier.”
Deirdre thought about it and felt a surprising niggle of resentment in her breast. Had that always been there? “I’m sure he had his reasons. He did ask about me.”
“Aye, and then he reminisced with Kerr about their hunting adventures together as lads.”
“Well, by then he knew I was safe. And if he’d been at the keep when Gavin arrived, he could have been killed.”
“Where was he? Do you know?”
Deirdre shrugged, feeling the usual tinge of embarrassment when she thought about that side of her marriage. And something more too. It shocked her to realize she was angry.
The last time she’d seen Lewis had been at the gathering where she’d first met Gavin. Before that, she hadn’t seen a trace of him for over two months. He’d even missed Yuletide. “He did try to get me back before his father arrived. Thank goodness Gavin changed his mind about handing me over.”
Isobel glowered at her brother, who was now pacing across the stone floor. “Handing you over—like you were livestock rather than a person. When all this is o’er, I’m going to plan an unpleasant surprise for my dear brother.”
Deirdre’s eyes widened. “Verily?”
“Aye. I’m good at revenge. And at holding a grudge.”
Deirdre didn’t know whether to be more amused or appalled by Isobel’s declaration. “But I was his prisoner.”
Isobel made a dismissive sound in the back of her throat. “I’d take revenge on your father and brother too if I could. I didn’t like your brother’s tone when he spoke about you, or the demands he made. And your husband too, even though you say he saved you. There’s more to the story than you’ve told me, I’m sure.”
Deirdre stared at her friend, a lump growing in her throat. Aye. She had been treated unfairly, been hurt by people who were supposed to have had her best interests at heart—her brother, her father, her husband. Her mother and sisters too. And she’d just pushed the feelings aside, just accepted their behavior as normal.
Now someone was telling her it was not normal, that she’d been mistreated. That they were in the wrong and deserved to be punished for it.
She pressed a hand to her mouth as anger bubbled up. I’m not a pawn on a chessboard to be pushed around! Not anymore.
“Furthermore,” Isobel continued, oblivious to the effect her words were having on Deirdre, “’tis not just the way you’ve been treated since you were a lass—tossed from clan to clan, your feelings, your personhood, ne’er taken into consideration. But now that you plan to be with my brother—and I can see in your eyes that you do—you will face judgment. You’ll finally stand up for yourself and take something that you want, and some arsehole people will condemn you for it.”
“Isobel!”
“What? Are you offended that I’ve compared them to arseholes? You’re right. ’Tis not fair to the arsehole.”
“God’s blood, I doona know whether to embrace you or…or…” Deirdre sighed. “There is no alternative, is there?” She pulled Isobel into a tight hug and whispered into her ear, “Thank you.”
“Thank me after I’ve exacted our revenge. Although I think Gavin will have his revenge first. It may be that he’ll be the only survivor around for me to punish.” She spotted her brother. “Gavin!” she called across the great hall.
He looked over from wh
ere he was talking to Clyde, who looked even more grim than usual. “Aye?”
“Fair warning, Brother. You’re on my bad side.”
His brow rose. “What did I do?”
“’Tis for when you sent Kerr and me to the loch with Ewan and almost took Deirdre back to Lewis!”
Kerr whistled his approval.
“I brought her back,” Gavin said. “And I apologized.”
“I’ll take that into consideration when I make my plans. I’ve let things slide since Ewan was taken. Doona expect leniency anymore.”
He scowled at her. “You do realize we’re about to go to war?”
She shrugged. “When you return, then. Just so you know it’s coming. You willna know when or where or how, but it’s coming.”
“And you know that if anyone gets hurt or something gets broken because of your actions, there will be consequences.”
Deirdre’s gaze jumped back and forth between them, as did everyone else’s in the room. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing and hearing. Isobel had flat-out told her brother to expect trouble from her, and no one had batted an eye. Not one of them yelled or threatened or raised a hand to frighten her.
The queen had spoken—for Isobel was a queen, and not a pawn like Deirdre—and they’d all heard her and planned accordingly.
The door opened without warning, and two MacKinnon warriors walked in. One of the men held the door open, and Lewis entered behind him, holding a year-old bairn in his arms. He was followed by two lasses who were maybe six and eight years of age, and a lad who looked to be about twelve years old. Two exhausted and worried-looking women brought up the rear, the youngest one somewhere around Lewis’s age. The older one resembled her, and Deirdre guessed her to be the younger woman’s mother.
Deirdre rose slowly from where she’d been sitting on the dais, her gaze trained on her husband and the child he held. Lewis walked forward, nodding to the lairds, but his eyes scanned the great hall until they landed on her.
He stopped, and the women and children caught up behind him. The youngest lass leaned against Lewis’s legs, her thumb slipping between her lips. Lewis glanced down and gently removed the offending digit from the child’s mouth. The other lass stayed back, wrapping her arm around the younger of the two women, who hugged her back as if she needed the support. The lad stood tall and straight, staring at Gavin and the other lairds, his eyes wide and filled with awe.
Deirdre walked forward, her chest burning and her heart pounding. Her jaw felt tight yet loose at the same time, as if she didn’t know whether to scream in rage or sob in betrayal. Or hug the bairn—Lewis’s bairn?—close to her chest.
“Deirdre, stay here,” Gavin said, his hand lightly grasping her arm as she moved past him toward Lewis.
“Nay.” She was a queen, not a pawn. A lion, not a mouse. She kept going, and he released her, moving into step behind her instead. From the corner of her eye, she saw the other lairds forming a tight-knit arc to their rear.
She stopped in front of Lewis and the two bairns. “You’re well?” she asked him.
“Aye. Deirdre, I—”
“May I hold him?” she interrupted, reaching her hands out for the bairn.
Lewis nodded and handed over the child. The younger woman let out a soft moan as Deirdre settled the wee one against her chest and shoulder. She closed her eyes and gently squeezed the sleeping bairn, loving the weight and warmth of him in her arms, the distinctive baby scent.
She opened her eyes, and her gaze landed on the young lass. The girl stared up at Deirdre, her thumb back in her mouth. Deirdre smiled and ran her fingers over the girl’s cheek. “You must be the princess,” she said.
The girl stopped sucking and took her thumb out of her mouth. “Nay, I’m Aili.”
“Ah, it’s a secret, then. Princess Aili.” She whispered the name at the end.
Moving toward the older women, Deirdre kissed the bairn’s cheek and passed him over to the younger of the two adults. The woman took him gratefully, and their eyes met. “You have a lovely family,” Deirdre said. Then she smiled at the older lass who stood beside her mother. “A queen and a princess.” Her gaze drifted to the young man who looked so much like Lewis. “And a fine Highland warrior.”
The boy blushed and looked down, but Gavin said from behind her, “Chin up, lad. You canna see your enemy approaching if you’re looking at the ground.”
The boy snapped his chin up, his gaze on Gavin. “Aye, Laird.”
“And doona slouch. Keep your feet slightly apart and your weight centered, so you’re ready for an attack.”
The lad nodded, his eyes shining, and he adjusted his stance.
Deirdre turned at last to the older woman among the group. She looked pale and anxious, and Deirdre squeezed her hand. “You have naught to fear. Your daughter and her family are safe here, and you as well.”
The woman’s eyes filled with sudden tears, and her mouth trembled. She grasped Deirdre’s arms, her grip tight. “Lewis said you were a kind woman, that you would ne’er harm an innocent. My daughter is innocent. My grandbairns are innocent.”
Gregor stepped forward and wrapped his arm around the older woman’s shoulders. “Aye, they are. Come with me now. Bring the children. We’ll go to the kitchen and have something to eat while Lewis and the lairds talk.”
The woman nodded and gathered up the children and their mother, but the younger woman resisted. “I’m staying.”
“Geneen, please,” Lewis begged.
“Nay,” Deirdre said. “This is about her too. Her family. Let her stay.”
Geneen handed the bairn to her mother and then crossed her arms over her chest and stuck out her chin. Gregor led the children and grandmother out, signaling for Isobel to follow him. She did so grudgingly.
Lewis caught Deirdre’s gaze. “I doona want Geneen hurt.”
“How could she possibly be hurt? You’ve spent seven years playing chess with me and naught else.” Anger burned at the edge of her voice.
Behind her, Gavin sucked in a startled breath.
“Did you ever intend to tell me, Lewis? Or did you just expect me to stay untouched and childless my entire life, thinking there was something wrong with me? Believing that it was my fault my husband stayed away, why he rejected every shy, awkward advance I made?” Gavin wrapped one arm protectively across Deirdre’s chest. She grabbed on to it for support. “Did you know what it cost me every time I tried to invite you to my bed?”
“I’m sorry, Deirdre,” he said. “It was hard for me too.”
“Hard for you? How could it have been hard for you? You were able to go home to your family while I stayed alone and lonely in your drafty, old keep. Is that why you gave me Ewan? Did you know he was Gavin’s son?”
“Nay! I swear I didn’t know he was Laird MacKinnon’s son. But I suspected foul play and I thought my father might be involved.”
“Please, he’s speaking the truth,” Geneen said. “I was there. We were on one of the back roads—one we traveled often, so we wouldnae be seen.” She glanced apologetically at Deirdre. “We came across two men, recently dead from sickness. We carried on, and that’s when we heard the bairn crying. He’d wandered off, and he didn’t seem ill. I was pregnant at the time—a difficult pregnancy—and we eventually lost the bairn. I couldnae take on another child at the time. When Lewis suggested giving him to you, it seemed like the perfect solution to everyone’s problems.”
Deirdre released a pent-up breath. She leaned back against Gavin and closed her eyes. “It was,” she said. “I’ll always be grateful that you brought me Ewan and that you saved him. And for being kind and considerate of me. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
“You have naught to be sorry for,” Gavin said.
“Aye. You should be yelling and screaming. I’m the one who’s sorry,” Lewis admitted.
; “You said you thought foul play was at work. Why?” Gavin asked him.
“’Twas unusual that the lad had no one with him to care for him. And he was verra dirty and unkempt. A loving parent wouldnae have allowed him to be so neglected. The men looked rough, like warriors. ’Twas hard to tell because of the sickness, but I thought I recognized one of them from my father’s personal guard.” He reached into his sporran and ripped out a lining that hid something behind it. He pulled out two torn pieces of plaid and a parchment, and passed them all to Gavin. The others gathered closer. “The plaids are from the men. The greenish one is a MacIntyre weave. I doona recognize the other one.”
Gavin passed the plaids around to his foster brothers before he opened the parchment. “Where did you get this?” he asked after he read it, his voice tight with anger.
Deirdre brought his hand down so she could read what was written on the parchment: a description of Ewan, highlighting his unusual eye color and blond hair, as well as his first name.
“This was to help them find him,” she said, her voice rising. “To know which boy to take.”
“Aye.” Gavin spoke through gritted teeth.
“’Twas on the body of one of the men,” Lewis said. “The man with the plaid I didn’t recognize.”
“You searched them thoroughly?” Gavin asked.
Geneen moved closer to him, in defense of her man. “As well as he could. The bodies were diseased.”
Gavin nodded. “I imagine that would have been difficult. Thank you for putting yourself at risk and for bringing it to me. What can you tell me about your father? You’re obviously leaving, so you must be renouncing the lairdship. Does he know about Geneen and the children?”
“He knows about my eldest son, Leith, and that I was in love with Geneen as a young man, but he doesn’t know the extent of it. Nor that we have other children together.” He met Deirdre’s eyes, then dropped his gaze. “He doesn’t know that we’re still together. That we’ve created a happy home and life together.”
Deirdre stared at him, bemused but also deeply hurt. She was his wife, yet he hadn’t wanted any of those things with her? “I doona understand why you married me, then. You would have had your two eldest at least by the time I came to you.”
Highland Captive Page 26