Love with a Scottish Outlaw

by Gayle Callen

  Cat had to stop herself from protesting—then examined her own conduct in shock and confusion. Duncan had committed crimes against her. She couldn’t deny that. But he walked away from her so calmly, perhaps returning to gaol once again without protest. He’d made it possible for the children of his clan to play freely, without fear. And now it was as if he didn’t care what happened to him. Would she ever rid herself of the terrible ache of frustration, sorrow, and regret?

  Chapter 23

  The journey back to Owen’s castle lasted most of the day. Cat knew that Duncan was somewhere among the soldiers, but she never saw him. He’d sent his own men back to the cave, and though they’d been confused, they’d obeyed him. Cat kept Finn with her, knowing the girl would probably follow them on her own.

  Cat busied herself comforting the children, to whose families Owen had already sent word—with Duncan’s help. She knew her brother was still outraged, frustrated, and sad that he’d known nothing about the kidnappings, that their own father had been capable of such deceit.

  But they couldn’t talk about it in front of the children, and she was almost glad. She didn’t want to answer Owen’s questions about what had happened to her. She was still trying to accept that she was never returning to the cave, that she might seldom see Maeve and the other friends she’d made. Maeve and Muriel had felt as close to Cat as any friendships she’d ever had, except for her close bond with her cousin Riona. Oh, she knew she could visit them—and she wanted to see Maeve in her own home again, now that the sheriff was dead and his evil deeds would come to light. Though Owen would feel guilty over what their father had done, he wouldn’t hide from it.

  But what would happen to all the Carlyles if Duncan languished in gaol once again? Would his tanist seek to have his chiefdom revoked? She’d never met the man who would become chief if Duncan died without an heir. She’d once asked about him, only to be told the man was supervising the move of clan cattle from their summer pasture.

  She must have looked worried and confused as she rode, because Owen kept glancing at her. To avoid him, she’d kiss little Adam’s head as he slept against her, or lean in to say something to Finn and Calum, riding together on another horse. Calum had finally awoken from his fear to speak his name.

  Castle Kinlochard was such a welcome sight that she had to blink away tears. Finn kept sneaking awed glances at her now, as if knowing she’d grown up lavishly changed what Finn thought of her. After crossing the arched bridge over the moat, they found the courtyard full of men dismounting. She saw Finn’s expression when the girl caught a glimpse of Duncan, with two men holding his arms as if he’d flee after coming here willingly.

  Between Adam holding onto her neck and Finn suddenly gripping her hand, and battling her own need to see what was happening to Duncan, Cat felt pulled in so many directions she was a little panicky.

  “I’ll fetch Mrs. Robertson to help ye,” Owen said, giving her a dubious look.

  “Nay, ’tis all right,” Cat murmured. “The children are just frightened. The housekeeper can meet us at supper, then show us to rooms for them.” She hesitated, then whispered, “Duncan?”

  “I’ll put him in a bedchamber under guard.”

  Cat’s shoulders sank as she let out her breath.

  “Ye look very relieved for a woman who was wronged. I could put him in a cell.”

  Again, she caught Finn’s swift look. “Nay, let’s discuss this later.”

  They entered the great hall through the double doors at the back, and Owen’s wife, Maggie, was the first to meet them, throwing her arms around Cat’s neck, then pulling back in surprise at the sleepy toddler she’d disturbed. Maggie’s unusual eyes, one blue, one green, were narrowed with curiosity.

  Cat gave her a smile. “It’s a long story.”

  “But ye’re safe,” Maggie said. “Relieved I am, especially when that messenger said ye’d been kidnapped. Ye must be hungry. Mrs. Robertson and I have been ready to feed everyone all day.” And then she gaped as Duncan was escorted past her toward the stairs. “I—he’s been here before! Owen, ye remember that traveler last week?”

  Owen’s frown grew even darker. “I’d been so concerned when I found Cat, that I hadn’t even realized that’s where I’d seen him before. I just assumed at a Highland assembly or festival. He’s Duncan Carlyle, chief of the Carlyles.” He lowered his voice. “He had Cat all this time, including when he was here spying on us.”

  Cat winced, though she appreciated he was keeping the truth just between them. “Aye, he told me he came here.”

  “Then I was right!” Maggie exclaimed triumphantly.

  “Right about what?” Cat asked.

  Maggie leaned close. “I saw ye with him in my dreams, and ye were both so happy.”

  Cat gaped. She knew of the rare dreams that Maggie had, the ones that usually came true. She glanced at her brother, who only frowned at his wife.

  “Aye, well, we’re hungry,” Owen grumbled.

  Maggie was overly cheerful as she saw to the children’s comfort, calling for baths to be prepared while they ate. She would be a mother herself soon, and it showed in the tender way she coaxed traumatized Calum to eat, and the way Adam agreed to sit in her lap and suck his thumb.

  At last Mrs. Robertson said the children’s rooms were prepared, and the three women began to lead them away.

  Cat looked over her shoulder and called to her brother. “Stay there. We have things to discuss and I won’t be long.”

  As she helped with the children, she couldn’t stop thinking of how Maggie had seen Duncan happy in her dreams. Cat had only seen that sweet emotion on his face once, after they’d made love, but even then it had been brief, because nothing had been settled between them. He was not a man who’d ever been allowed to be happy as a child, and had never had cause to be so as an adult.

  Duncan hadn’t just been happy in Maggie’s dream—he’d been happy with Cat. They’d been together, and she didn’t see how that could come true.

  Duncan was surprised to be left alone in the bedchamber, though he knew a guard was stationed in the hall. They brought him a tray of food—no knife, of course—and left him to his own devices. He found himself standing at the window as the sun set, watching the courtyard activities wind down. He could see the glow of fire diminish in the blacksmith’s shop, saw the last horses put into the stables at dusk. This had been Cat’s home—one of many. In days to come, he would be able to picture her here, happy and cared for. He felt as if he was memorizing how everything looked. It was good to think about anything other than losing Cat.

  He’d already lost her.

  He could be honest with himself about his relief that she was home, that she’d be safe. When he’d watched her trying to negotiate with the sheriff, he’d stepped out to defend her, though he hadn’t known that Aberfoyle and his men were nearby. He’d only been concerned with keeping Cat safe.

  And she was safe. He braced both hands on the window frame and lowered his head to breathe a sigh of relief. Whatever happened next, she and the children would be well. He knew she and her brother would pick up where Duncan had left off, see that there were no more kidnappings.

  Someone knocked at the door and entered before he could respond.

  The guard said, “Ye’re to come to the great hall and wait to be heard.”

  Duncan nodded. He hoped his fate would be decided sooner rather than later. The longer he was here, the more Cat would suffer. And he didn’t want that.

  Once again, the two men did not bind him, allowed him to walk on his own down through the castle to a corridor outside the great hall.

  “Wait here,” one said.

  And then he heard Aberfoyle’s voice. “Cat, tell us everything.”

  It echoed in the great hall, but Duncan heard no whispered voices or movement, and thought there weren’t many people deciding his fate. Perhaps Aberfoyle did not want many witnesses to what had happened to Cat. Duncan had brought shame upon her; he would do a
nything, even lie, to make sure her reputation did not suffer.

  “I told ye about my accident,” Cat began slowly. “I learned about Father’s involvement before I even knew he was my father.”

  “How do ye know he was involved?” Aberfoyle demanded. “Just the word of an outlaw?”

  “At first I took his word. Someone important had to be behind the scenes to permit this level of crime to happen, to try to bury it by discrediting a clan chief—that is not an easy thing to do. But I read the letters our father sent Duncan’s father after the old Laird Carlyle had made inquiries about the missing children. There were threats there, Owen. Our father knew what was going on.”

  There was a long tense silence, until Aberfoyle spoke. “I always knew he could be a cruel man. Betrothing ye as a bairn, but never telling any of us, then trying to dishonorably break the contract—none of that spoke well of him. But to allow and encourage children to be sold . . . to know some of my wealth came from cruelty and heartbreak . . . I cannot countenance it. I will work on behalf of those desperate families, see if I can find the children and have them returned, even if I have to buy them back.”

  Duncan’s relief was so overwhelming that he dropped his head back and closed his eyes. He hadn’t had the resources for that, had only hoped to stop the practice. But Aberfoyle had the power and wealth to make things right.

  “But now I have to deal with Laird Carlyle,” Aberfoyle continued, his voice growing cold. “Aye, he tried to help children—”

  “Owen, ye make it sound like he sent some men or called in some favors,” Cat said. “Put aside what was done to me—”

  “I cannot.”

  “Not forever. Just . . . hear me. Duncan tried to stop the theft of children, and to cover their crimes, the sheriff and his men threw him in gaol. The scars on his back, Owen . . .” She trailed off, her voice hoarse.

  “And ye’ve seen his back?” Aberfoyle demanded.

  Duncan stiffened, praying she’d come up with something that would not damage her standing with her brother. He ran both hands through his hair, briefly cupping his head. He’d caused all this. He turned to enter the hall, but the two men stopped him.

  “We lived in close quarters in a large cave,” Cat said carefully. “People bathed outdoors, or in a pool within the caves. I saw many men’s backs.”

  She was cleverly using the truth, Duncan thought with admiration.

  “Ye lived in a cave with lots of men?” Lady Aberfoyle asked with curiosity.

  “And women,” Cat hastily added. “Duncan gave me his private chamber as my own.”

  “Chamber? Ye mean cave.” Aberfoyle’s voice was flat.

  “I had a bed and table and chest. There was furniture.”

  To Duncan’s surprise, she seemed to be defending him.

  “Why were they all in a cave?” the countess asked.

  “Because Duncan is an outlaw. He had to stay hidden to help the children—otherwise he’d have been imprisoned again. Many of his clansmen stayed with him, because they, too, believed in the importance of the mission. We rescued nearly a dozen children while I was there, returning them to their families or finding the orphans new families. Our father was part of a terrible crime, Owen. Duncan’s only crime was trying to make things right. And for that he was outlawed and banished, his people shunned. The village I saw was so poor, and that was only one of them.”

  “You forget his crime of kidnapping ye,” Aberfoyle said angrily.

  “I’m not forgetting it. But I don’t want his people to suffer anymore. Duncan’s father was a weak chief, easily swayed by others. But Duncan has been an honorable leader. Those people trust him; they need him.”

  “What are ye saying?” Aberfoyle demanded.

  “Help him be free of the bounty on his head,” Cat said.

  Duncan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. After all he’d done to Cat, now she was helping him. Apparently her brother couldn’t believe it either.

  “Cat, I cannot forget what he’s done to ye!” His voice rose.

  “I’m not asking ye to forget. I won’t. But his people need him. He’s done a brave, noble thing sacrificing his own freedom for them. He defended me when his own life was at risk from the sheriff and his men. I need ye to see that the sheriff is vilified, his crimes exposed and ended, Duncan freed. Ye can do that, Owen, I know ye can.” Her voice grew softer, yet more urgent.

  Duncan didn’t deserve such selfless kindness. He felt like the worst sort of monster, that the generous woman he’d betrayed could defend him after he’d taken her innocence.

  Aberfoyle raised his voice. “Send for the Carlyle.”

  The guards prodded him around the corner and into the great hall. At the dais, only three people were seated: Aberfoyle, his wife, and Cat.

  Aberfoyle’s eyebrows rose. “How are ye already here?”

  “I thought he needed to be available,” Lady Aberfoyle said smugly.

  Duncan’s gaze met and held Cat’s. She flushed red as she realized he’d overheard everything. He expected her to look away, but she didn’t. Those amber eyes glittered by torchlight, and her expression was a little haughty with discomfort. He almost wanted to smile. Instead, he bowed to her. She looked away.

  Aberfoyle rose slowly to his feet, as if gathering his thoughts. “Carlyle, there’s been much wrong ye’ve experienced, and ye’ve done well protecting your people and stopping a vicious crime. For that, I’ll see that the bounty on your head is dismissed, and that ye’ll be free to return to a normal life. But for what ye’ve done to my sister, I want ye gone. I never want to see ye in this castle or on any property I own. Ye can spend the night, but at dawn, take your horse and your weapons and leave.”

  Duncan took a deep breath and nodded. “Thank ye, Lord Aberfoyle.”

  It was far more lenient than he deserved. And it was all because of Cat. He stared at her too long, he knew. Her complexion was white, her eyes grave. He tried to memorize her features, her eyes that reminded him of the finest Scottish whisky, the mouth that had been sweet beneath his. He would never taste that mouth again, or bask in her gentle smile. It was a punishment all its own.

  He bowed to her. When he spoke, his voice came out rough. “Lady Catriona, deceiving ye has been the greatest regret of my life. I do not deserve your forgiveness or the kindness ye’ve shown to me tonight. The best thing I can do to make up for what I’ve done is vow that ye’ll never see or hear from me again. Ye have my sincere apology.”

  With another bow, he turned and left the great hall. One guard still trailed him and remained outside his door, but he wasn’t surprised. Duncan had spent too many weeks denying Cat the right to her own life. It was time to give it back to her in truth. Even if he could not imagine going back to a life without her. He’d never thought he’d have the kind of happy marriage he’d seen in others. It was just difficult to have glimpsed such a thing, experienced a moment of heaven with Cat, and know it could never be his future.

  Chapter 24

  Cat spent another restless night because of Duncan Carlyle. Her sister-in-law had arranged for Duncan to overhear everything Cat said about him.

  She rolled over and pounded a pillow, trying again to remember just how she’d phrased things.

  Oh, what did it matter? It had worked, hadn’t it? She’d persuaded her stubborn, arrogant brother to free Duncan, to even help him with his legal troubles. And she didn’t regret it. She’d made clear to Duncan that there could be nothing more between them. He’d betrayed her, and she could never forget that, however wonderful he was as a clan chief, however much his people admired and were devoted to him, however much seeing him hold infants and talk to four-year-olds had made something twist painfully in her chest—however much she wanted to picture his face with a smile.

  She would just have to tell him this when he came to her. Because of course, he would not leave without speaking to her.

  So although she only dozed through the night, no one knocked on her door; no o
ne snuck in and put a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet; no one wanted a last kiss. She felt like a princess in a tower, alone and unloved.

  At dawn, she was left standing in her window, watching Duncan mount his horse in the muddy courtyard below. He pulled Finn up behind him. The girl had come to Cat crying an hour before, saying she missed her friends in the cave, and she couldn’t let Duncan be alone.

  And the unspoken chastisement was that Cat was letting Duncan go.

  Letting him go? Cat had never had him! Their relationship had been nothing more than captor and captive—she just hadn’t known it until it was too late, until she already had feelings for him. And those feelings had taken her over, leading to one night of lovemaking that she’d never forget.

  But that was all she could have of him, because trust was one of the most important things about a marriage, and how could she ever trust him again?

  For several weeks, she tried to resume her old life. It felt strange to have so much room to move around, a bedchamber that felt nearly as big as the cave’s great hall, and a real great hall that rose several floors high and was filled each night with nearly a hundred clansmen. None of them knew all the details of her adventure with Clan Carlyle. Perhaps Owen thought he was sparing her, when in truth it made her feel even more different and alone.

  Now that she knew what it was truly like to have so little, Cat made it a point to visit all the villages she could, bringing baskets of treats, and mostly being there to hear the good and the bad, and bring things to Owen’s attention.

  Maggie, the sister-in-law she’d only just gotten to know before her accident, now seemed a refuge. She wanted to hear all about Cat’s adventures, and never tired of asking questions. She seemed to know when Cat couldn’t sleep, and would come into her room, curl up near the fire, and they’d talk.

  Three weeks after her return, Cat was standing at the dark window, hugging herself, seeing nothing, when she heard Maggie’s familiar knock, a couple quick taps.