Highlander’s Wicked Desire (Wicked Highlanders Book 2)

by Fiona Faris

  “Perhaps a better candidate will arrive tomorrow for the gatherin’ from the mainland and neighborin’ clans.” And nae a one o’ them will be as wonderful and strong as Marra. A lass, such as she, is rare indeed. James wished that he could have invited Marra and Duncan to the gathering, but with everything that had transpired; he felt that it was best not to tempt fate by bringing the man who had killed his father back to Skye. He was not sure that it was wise to invite anyone outside of the clan for the next day’s festivities; but as William had said, James needed to form a strong alliance, an alliance without attachments to his father. “There are many bonnie lasses that will make other men verra happy as wives, but I cannae fathom a marriage that does nae speak tae the heart, e’en if it is only a wee bit o’ affection.”

  “Nor can I,” Elizabeth agreed. “I do not remember ever feeling anything romantic for anyone before, but I cannot fathom trusting another person in such a way without it. To wed is to bind one’s self for life to another. Should not love or, at the very least affection, play a role in it?”

  James smiled. “Aye, it should. Tae often it does nae. I dinnae wish tae live me life in abject misery for the lack o’ it; e’en for a much-needed alliance.”

  William shook his head. “Yer both as daft as each other.”

  “Maybe so, but will we not be happier for it in the long term?” Elizabeth pointed out.

  “Nae if ye are dead,” William leveled his gaze at James, the meaning behind his words clear.

  “I beg your pardon?” Elizabeth nearly choked on the crust of bread she had popped into her mouth.

  “’Twas nae meant for yer ears, lass,” William waved her off.

  Elizabeth frowned at William with suspicion in her eyes. She turned to James. “Is someone threatening you?”

  The muscles in James’ jaw spasmed as he clenched down on his teeth at the accuracy of her inquiry. “’Tis nae for ye tae concern yerself with.”

  “But it is,” Elizabeth argued, “for I am only as safe as the man under whom I am protected. I am what you refer to as a Sassenach, an Englishwoman of little welcome, am I not?”

  “Aye, ye are at that,” James nodded.

  “Then it stands to reason that I am only safe as long as your power stands. Correct?”

  “Aye,” James nodded again.

  “Then it is in my best interest that you stay in power. If you are being threatened, then I am being threatened. What is the threat? What can I do to help you? Is this marriage alliance that you seek imperative to maintaining control? Who are the players in this Scottish tragedy?”

  James sat and stared at her for a moment. She had not been able to remember much of her past, but it had become quite clear to him that she was an amazing woman with exceptional intellect. “Ye are astute, me lady.”

  “It would appear so, but I am not so astute as to be able to read your mind, my lord. I cannot help you with something I know naught about.” A maid stepped between them, interrupting their conversation.

  “Ye cannae trust her, lad. She is a Sassenach,” William cautioned quietly.

  “As I cannae trust me own people. I see little difference,” James remarked bitterly, then sighing did his best to curb his animosity toward the situation. “Dinnae fash, William, I will nae divulge anythin’,” he murmured low enough for only William to hear. “I ken well enough that I cannae trust anyone, least o’ all the English.”

  A rustling sound from beside him drew his attention, and he noted that the maid had moved. Naught remained to buffer his words from reaching Elizabeth’s ears, and it was clear by the look on her face that she had heard every word. Without a retort she turned and left the dais, pushing her way through the crowd.

  “Elizabeth,” James called after her, but it was too late, she had gone.

  James stood to go after her. “Would it nae be best tae leave it?” William cautioned.

  “Nae, I dinnae think it tae be best at all. ‘Twould nae do tae have her runnin’ about the isle unaccompanied.”

  “Nae, I suppose that it wouldnae do at all. There is nae tellin’ the mischief that she could get up tae on her own.” William rose to go after her himself.

  “Nae, me friend. I am the one who caused offense. It is I who must make amends.”

  “Ye were nae in the wrong. Ye have nae need tae offer up an apology tae anyone, least o’ all a Sassenach.”

  “Maybe so, but I cannae help tae wonder if she is nae somethin’ all together more than that.”

  “Proceed with caution, me laird. This could all go verra badly were she tae regain her memory and decide tae turn on ye like a rabid dog.”

  “I am well aware o’ the risks, but I must go after her now before something else befalls her.”

  James left the hall and rushed out into the darkness. He searched the courtyard for Elizabeth but did not find her there. He approached one of the guards and inquired as to whether he had seen her. “Aye, a lady ran past, me laird.”

  “Where did she go?”

  “She ran down toward the water, me laird.”

  James nodded and followed in the direction that the guard indicated. Grabbing a torch from the wall, he made his way down over the rocks toward the craggy shoreline. There in the moonlit waves stood Elizabeth. The water rushed over her nearly sweeping her under. “Elizabeth…” he breathed, his heart quickening in fear that she meant to do herself harm. He raced across the rocks, dropping the torch to the ground, and plunged into the water. He waded out to her and found her sobbing, her face turned up to the sky.

  “What are you doing?” he grabbed her arm, pulling her to him.

  “Let me go!”

  “Nae, I will nae. Now ye are goin’ tae tell me what this is all about? I dinnae believe that ye would end yer own life o’er a perceived slight such as the one I gave ye. What is it, lass? What is it that vexes ye so?”

  “I do not know who I am,” she screamed into his face. “I do not know who I am, and yet I am hated for that very thing! You despise and distrust the very blood that flows through my veins! You loathe me for something I have absolutely no control over, the fate of my birth!”

  “I dinnae hate ye, lass.”

  “You do, and so do your people!” Elizabeth attempted to wrench herself free from his grasp and in doing so plunged back beneath the waves.

  “I dinnae hate ye!” James shouted back at her. Dragging her up from the water, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to shore. Elizabeth fought him, pounding at him with her fists. “Haud yer wheesht!” James set her down upon a rocky ledge and took her hands in his. “Lass,” he spoke more softly. He reached up and brushed the hair back from her face. “I ken well enough that ye cannae help whom ye were born tae be. ‘Twas nae but an accident o’ birth that created ye English and me a Scot. A blessed accident o’ fate on me part, or perhaps ‘twas God’s plan, but there is nae anythin’ for it now, lass. Ye cannae change where ye were born.”

  “And yet I am despised for it.”

  “I dinnae believe that tae be the reason ye are out here.”

  “I do not care what you believe.”

  “Och, Elizabeth…” He reached out caressed her cheek. “I only wish tae be o’ help tae ye.”

  “How can you be when neither of us knows who I am or what I am capable of? You are right not to trust me. For all I know, I could be a terrible person.”

  “I dinnae believe that for a single moment.”

  “As you have said before and yet…” Elizabeth paused and shrugged her shoulders.

  “What ye heard betwixt William and me in the hall wasnae so much about ye as it was about a matter well beyond yer ken.”

  “I know there is something amiss at Knock Castle. I do not know what it is, but I know it has something to do with the two of you.”

  James studied her face carefully. “’Tis best for all concerned if ye dinnae become involved.”

  “Better than this,” Elizabeth asked gesturing toward the sodden state that she was i
n.

  “Aye, lass, better. But dinnae think tae put yerself in harm’s way e’er again o’er such as this. I couldnae bear it were ye tae perish in such a fashion.”

  “Naught but the truth will set me free of this burden.”

  “I fear that the same may be true o’ mine.”

  “I cannot go on like this.”

  “But ye must, lass.” James tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “We will find a way together.”

  Chapter Ten

  Elizabeth attempted to stand but faltered, her legs shaking so hard that it made the rocks rattle at her feet. James swept her up into his arms and carried her back to the castle. He entered through the kitchen door and up the back stairs, careful to avoid anyone seeing them. He had arranged for her to take up residence in his mother’s old rooms, and he laid her down upon a settee in front of the fire to dry. Digging through his mother’s chests, he found a suitable nightdress for her to put on and laid it out on the bed. “I will send a maid in tae help ye, lass. Dinnae fash about anythin’ more this night, rest and we will speak more upon the morn.”

  James left Elizabeth, found a maid to assist her and then rejoined the gathering in the hall. William awaited him upon the dais, concern marring his features. “Ye were gone for tae long. People were beginning tae ask questions, some about the Sassenach as well.”

  “Any who ye believe would be capable o’ blackmail?”

  “Aye, perhaps. I dinnae ken, but we should watch them tae be sure.”

  “Aye, ‘twill nae be a simple task with but the two o’ us.”

  “Aye, it would be better if we had more o’ our own clansmen that we could be certain o’ their loyalties.”

  “Samuel is loyal without a doubt.”

  “Aye, that he is, but he is an auld man who has earned his rest. He should nae be forced tae spy for us and put Agnes at risk should the blackmailers discover his involvement.”

  “I dinnae ken that we have much choice. We need more men, and as Laird, it is within yer right.”

  “Aye, it may well be in me right, but that does nae mean that it is right tae do. I will nae endanger an auld man and his wife tae save meself.”

  William studied his face. “But it is nae tae save only yer hide, is it? As ye are so oft tae remind me, ‘tis about the fate o’ much more.”

  “Aye, that it is.” James thought about William’s insistence. He trusted his advice and knew that it was sound, but there had been enough death due to his father’s actions, and he did not wish to be responsible for anyone else’s. Had William not known already, James would never have confided in him about it. He would have done all in his power to shelter every last one of his people from his father’s crimes if he could have done so.

  “We need tae confide in Samuel if we are tae see this through. We cannae both be everywhere at the same time as the men we should be watchin’. There is nae other choice.”

  “There is always another choice.”

  “Nae this time, lad. Ye fight for yer people with everythin’ that ye have. Ye must allow them tae fight for ye as well, tae fight for themselves.”

  James could not argue with him about it anymore. He knew that William was right. It was time to tell Samuel and Agnes the truth. He scanned the crowd searching for the older couple. He needed to explain to them about Elizabeth’s absence and supposed that now was as good a time as any to speak with them. He would invite them to stay at the castle with Elizabeth in his mother’s old rooms and speak with them privately there. Elizabeth would no doubt be asleep by then, leaving the drawing-room empty for their use.

  When he found them, they were worriedly looking for Elizabeth. “Have ye seen Elizabeth, Me Laird? Agnes and I have nae seen her since the oaths. We are concerned for her.”

  “She is above stairs, sleeping.”

  “Is she ill? Did anyone harm her?”

  “The festivities were a bit tae much for her. She is still healin’.”

  Agnes motioned with her hands toward the stairs, indicating that she wished to go up and check on her. James nodded and led them both to her rooms. “Ye are welcome tae stay here with her instead o’ below with the others.” Agnes nodded in acceptance and pushed past him through the door, very much as a protective mother or grandmother would have done. She opened the inner bedchamber door and peered through the dimly lit room. James peered over her shoulder to reassure himself of Elizabeth’s state. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her lying upon the bed sound asleep. He had been somewhat afraid that she would have made her way back down to the water. She had been in such a frightful state.

  Agnes entered the room and tucked the covers up under Elizabeth’s chin. Once she was satisfied that her young patient was well cared for, she withdrew to rejoin her husband in the outer drawing-room. James closed the bedchamber door and motioned for the pair to take a seat on the settee. “There is somethin’ that I need tae tell ye both. I should have told ye long before now, but I wished tae keep ye both safe from it. Now I fear that I have little choice but tae involve the both o’ ye.”

  James went on to tell them the entire true story of his father’s death including everything that had happened since. As loyal as they were, he knew that even they would have difficulty with such deception. “That is quite the tale, lad,” Samuel finally responded after a long moment of absolute silence. Agnes rose and placed her hand atop of James’ arm. James looked into her eyes and was surprised to see gratitude as well as compassion there. At the very least he had expected confusion, even betrayal, but never gratitude.

  “Agnes?”

  “Ye helped tae free the lass from bein’ raped, lad. Anyone who does that in Agnes’ mind is tae be admired nae matter the circumstances.”

  “I thank ye, Agnes, for yer understandin’.” James smiled and squeezed Agnes’ hand in return. Nodding, she arose and want back to sit with her husband.

  “What is it that ye wish from us?” Samuel asked, wrapping his arm around his wife’s tiny frame.

  “I need yer help tae find the blackmailers. William and I cannae watch all o’ the possible men that it could be alone.”

  “Aye, it sounds as if ye needed me help long afore now. Ye should have come tae me sooner, lad. Ye ken well enough that I ne’er cared for yer faither or his ways. I wouldnae have judged ye tae be in error. I ken I would have kept yer secret, risk or nae.”

  “I ken it well, but I didnae wish tae put anyone else in danger. The fewer clansmen who ken what has happened, the better.”

  “Aye, I would agree. Nae everyone feels as I do about our former laird. I wouldnae wish ill upon ye or those ye love, but I cannae say the same for anyone else were they tae learn the truth. Ye are right tae think that it would lead tae warfare, and ye are right tae avoid it.”

  James sighed, running his hands over his face in a mixture of frustration and relief. “Do ye ken who it might be?”

  “Nae, I dinnae, but I will be lookin’ in tae it for ye. There are things an auld man can do and say that a young laird or even a seasoned warrior cannae without drawin’ suspicion tae themselves. Nae one will pay me the slightest bit o’ mind.”

  “Dinnae put yerself at risk, Samuel. I dinnae wish for anythin’ tae befall ye or Agnes.”

  “If the blackmailers are nae caught, there will be trouble aplenty for us all.”

  * * *

  Elizabeth awoke to the sound of voices in the next room. She stood and padded over to the door in her bare feet. Pressing her ear to the door, she could just make out the voices of James and Samuel. She reached to open it but stopped when she heard James confessing to covering up his father’s true cause of death. Shocked, she waited and listened to the entire story from beginning to end.

  When he was done, Elizabeth leaned back against the wall, a myriad of questions flooding her mind. Not the least of which was would she be safe from harm if his people found out the truth. She was fairly certain that as an Englishwoman the only thing standing between herself and the grave
or ruin was James. As the laird, he could protect her, but not if he was dead or deposed. When Samuel pledged his help to James, Elizabeth silently did the same.

  No man should ever be punished so for doing the honorable thing. He saved a woman’s life and virtue; nothing could be more noble. Now he keeps his secrets for the safety of his clan and others; living a life of the truest loneliness, a part of his clan and yet set apart. To have had a faither of such brutality…

  At that thought, an image of a man standing over her, his hand raised in anger, flashed through her mind. The memory of great pain coursed through her body, and she gasped, clutching the door frame. She stumbled and her hand grasped the door latch, jerking it open as she fell backward. James jumped up from his chair in the next room and rushed forward to catch her before she hit the ground.