Connie C. Scharon - Highland Legends 02

by Phantom Bride

  "Sir! You forget yourself," she reprimanded. "I wanted to discuss father's poisoning and Fenella's murder, nothing else," she said with conviction.

  "If you say so." He stepped back a pace staring at her until she looked away.

  "Who could have gotten Henbane from Fenella without getting in her ledger?"

  "Most anyone with enough riches to insure his privacy," Garyth said. "Or someone could have bribed Elspeth to steal some for them. The girl and the old woman didna get along."

  Devon turned to him in surprise. "I thought Fenella was like a mother to Elspeth."

  "She was, until the girl began to ripen. I heard she sold her virgin stepdaughter to the highest bidder. That's how the girl became a whore."

  "Oh! Poor Elspeth," Devon gasped. "Is it true?"

  "I dinna ken," Garyth admitted. "'Tis just one of many stories. If 'tis true, and if Bryce was the buyer, Fenella would certainly have given him the poison no questions asked."

  "Who else might have had reason to kill Fenella?"

  "Nigel perhaps, she sold the man something to help his potency, and then told everyone he had a problem. I heard rumors she tried to find out people's secrets, and then asked for money to keep her silence. Maybe Nigel wouldna pay, so he kept her quiet another way."

  "What other rumors have you heard?" Devon asked.

  Garyth moved closer. "You didna really bring me out here just to talk of this, did you?" He ran his hand down the length of her arm. "I should have been the one to fight for your hand." Jerking her arm away, Devon started for her horse, but he snatched her back, pulling her into his arms, and kissing her savagely through the netting.

  Devon began to struggle, pounding his chest with her fists. "Stop it!" she shrieked.

  "You know you dinna want me to," he said, his hot breath on her neck. "The servants have told me you sleep apart from your husband. Share yourself with me. I love you so."

  His hand brushed back her veil enough to find her lips. Devon struck blindly at him, but he continued his relentless attack. She could feel the press of his tongue wedging her lips apart. Opening her mouth suddenly, she bit down hard as it entered her mouth. Garyth yelped in pain and stepped away, drawing his hand back to slap her, but a larger hand snatched his before he could strike the blow.

  Relief fluttered through Devon's chest when she felt Liam beside her. A look of sheer terror flew across Garyth's face as he looked at Liam's enraged expression.

  "Where did you come from?" Garyth gasped. Liam jerked him off the ground and dangled him near the edge of the precipice.

  Liam's voice crackled with barely controlled rage. "I've been watching you molest my wife and I've been listening to your filthy rumors. Devon is my wife in every way, ask her," Liam demanded.

  "But the servants say you sleep apart," Garyth objected. "I love Devon. I've loved her for years. It should have been me who defeated Bryce."

  "You had ample opportunity."

  "Devon wouldna allow me to fight for her. She told me she wanted no husband."

  "I sleep apart from my husband because I am scarred," Devon interrupted. "But I tell you this in all honesty, Liam has made me his. Even now I could carry his child."

  "You need give this man no explanations. What happens in our bed chamber is our business."

  "Liam, please dinna hurt Garyth. I'm sure he has learned from his mistake. If you care for me at all, you'll let him go."

  Liam looked from Devon to Garyth. "He hides behind your skirts."

  "Nay, he is blinded by a love that I've never returned," Devon said. "'Twas my mistake to bring him with me and make him think I wanted something I did not."

  "He was about to strike you!"

  "Please let him go," Devon repeated.

  Liam threw Garyth roughly to the ground away from the edge of the precipice. "Get out of my sight before I change my mind," he ordered. "And I warn you, if you bother my wife again, you shall not survive the consequences."

  "Aye Milord," Garyth managed. Scrambling onto the back of his horse, he lit out for the castle.

  Liam turned to Devon, his expression impassive. "Do you love him?"

  Devon moved close to her husband, resting her hand on his chest. She could feel his heart thundering beneath her touch. She gazed up at him uncertainly. "I love him like a brother."

  Liam's face held no clue to his thoughts. "When you were so unhappy with Frazer, did you take Garyth for your lover?"

  "I've never been with anyone except Frazer, and now you. I swear!"

  "Then why do you protect this man at every turn and rush off to ride with him after you and I finally consummated our vows? Make me understand, I want to understand." There was a desperate edge to his voice.

  A gust of wind blew causing Devon to draw her cape tight around her. "Garyth and I grew up together. His father was my father's best friend. After Garyth's father died we were raised together."

  "He was raised like your brother?"

  "I saw it that way. But before I met Frazer Forbes, Garyth asked me to be his wife."

  Liam's face was so sober it frightened her. "What was your response to his proposal?"

  "I refused. To me he'll always be like a brother."

  "He said he wanted to fight Bryce for your hand."

  Her husband's dark eyes searched her veiled face. Squirming uncomfortably, Devon tried to explain. "When Garyth knew my marriage to Frazer was unhappy, he came to me and offered his protection. I said no. After Frazer died, he sought permission to challenge Bryce for my hand, and again I refused his offer of help."

  "And the night we met in the courtyard?"

  "Garyth saw me and thought I had refused him all these years because I had a secret lover. When you showed up, he realized his error and has not accosted me again until today. I used poor judgment in asking him to accompany me. If anything, what happened was my fault."

  "Knowing all this, why did you bring him with you?"

  "Garyth has shared Elspeth's bed since Bryce went to Glenfinnan. I thought he might know something we had not discovered. I knew he would talk freely with me." She paused trying hard to read Liam's expression. "That's why I asked him to ride with me."

  Liam folded his arms across his chest. "When I heard you had gone off riding with him, I remembered the night at the tower and feared he might be your lover," Liam admitted. "If Garyth has no hold on your heart, tell me why you're so afraid to be in my bed."

  "My fears have nothing to do with Garyth," Devon said softly.

  "Frazer?" he asked. Devon nodded. "What did Frazer do to you? If you tell me, I can help you to put it behind you."

  "I have blocked as much as possible from my mind. You ask me to try to recall what I want to bury forever. Please dinna ask, 'tis too painful."

  "Is it because of the child you lost?"

  Devon’s body seemed to crumple with the weight of his words. Liam wrapped his arms around her, sheltering her from the rising wind. She was shaking uncontrollably. "How did you know about the baby?" she gasped.

  "Moira told me when she knew I found the Henbane entry in the ledger. I promised her I wouldna let you know I knew, but… we need honesty between us. Confide in me so I can ease your fears," Liam entreated.

  "I thought the baby was the only good thing to come from my marriage, but he was stillborn at seven months. Frazer was happy because he didna want me heavy with child. It interfered with his pleasures," Devon sobbed. Her whole body shook as she buried her head in Liam's shoulder and wept.

  His hands stroked her holding her close. "It's all right, sweetling. It's all over now. No one will hurt you again," he whispered. "Mayhaps some day soon you'll find yourself pregnant with my child."

  Her head rose from his shoulder. "Don't you see, I'm afraid," she told him through her tears. "I couldna bear to lose a second child. What if I canna produce healthy offspring? The pain was so great when my son came. I'm afraid something is wrong with me."

  "Women lose children all the time and go on to have oth
er babies. You canna be afraid because of this. You must try again. Moira said Frazer made you lose the baby. Is that true?"

  Liam's hands bit her shoulders as his question shot through the dark memories she tried so hard to forget.

  "Aye," Devon choked.

  "Dear God," Liam murmured, pulling her back to the safety of his arms. "My poor angel, I will never let anyone harm you again. Do you trust me, Devon? Can you let yourself believe what I'm telling you?"

  "Aye Liam, I believe you." She snuggled to his warm chest.

  They stood in silence for a long time, until her shivering subsided and her composure returned. Reluctantly she pulled away. "We better return," she said softly. "They'll wonder where we are."

  He gave her a gentle smile and helped her onto her horse, then mounted himself falling in beside her. "Do you regret coming to me last night?"

  "Nay Milord, I only regret I was unable to please you."

  "You did please me, Devon," he assured her, reaching across to caress her face with his hand. "You pleased me so much, I felt bad for not giving you the pleasure I felt."

  "But Liam, you didna hurt me."

  He shook his head. "My poor dear Devon, in time you'll know what I mean. Come, let’s mount up. We must meet with Lord Wycliff this afternoon." He urged his horse forward and she kept pace wondering at the man who seemed destined to be her savior.

  ***

  They found Lord Wycliff, Malcolm, and Bryce waiting in the hall when they returned.

  "I see you've found your wandering bride," Bryce commented with a smirk.

  "Devon was just enjoying a ride across the moors," Liam said in her defense.

  Malcolm looked back and forth between the two before motioning them to their seats.

  Because of the veil, Devon felt she had the advantage. No one could see her tear-streaked face or the fear in her eyes. Liam had her so befuddled she didn't know what to do. If she supported Bryce in his claim to the lands, she would be giving away things that by all rights should go to Liam. If she supported her husband, Bryce would have her accused of murder.

  Staring at Bryce through the black netting, she wondered how much he knew. Did he really know what happened? For that matter, did she?

  They all sat around the large table and Lord Wycliff threw open a collection of maps of Dunsmore Heath and the surrounding lands. "On this paper is the plan which Bryce proposes. I dinna see it as an equitable tenth because it encompasses most of the fertile coastal plain and leaves Laird Liam and Devon with the mountains and moors."

  "Just like a Forbes," Malcolm interrupted.

  Wycliff smiled tolerantly. "This is my proposal," he said, procuring another parchment and unfolding it. "This plan gives Bryce a section to the north which contains some of each type of terrain." He looked expectantly at Liam. "If you have a proposal, I'd like yours on the table as well."

  "Lord Wycliff, I find your proposal fair and equitable; however… I have drawn up my own." Liam motioned one of the servants forward, took a rolled up map with markings on it, and opened it on the table.

  "This is an insult," Bryce grumbled. "It gives me only a small holding to the North, smaller than what Lord Wycliff proposes."

  Liam pointed to the map. "If you'll notice, my mark extends beyond the borders of the Dunsmore holdings and includes this whole piece of property."

  "So nice of you to offer that which you do not own," Bryce taunted.

  "On the contrary, I own the old Gailbraith holdings. I procured them several weeks ago. My proposal is this, on the Gailbraith property is a sizable keep suitable for Bryce's household. I offer my holdings and this small portion of the Dunsmore property in order that Dunsmore Heath may remain mostly intact. It also gives Bryce an immediate residence and spares him much expense in construction."

  Bryce's eyes widened. "What trick do you play?" he asked warily.

  "There is no trick, Bryce. I want you out of my household, so I chose to give you an option that will provide you with another residence. In addition, I offer a cash settlement in order that you may make whatever improvements are necessary and hire the proper servants. With the monies you have inherited from Frazer, that should leave you very well off. Do you accept?" Liam watched Bryce squirm. The man would be daft not to accept the generous offer.

  "I think you are being too generous," Malcolm said with a snort. "Can you afford this generosity?"

  "I told you before, Malcolm. I came here to marry your daughter, not take your fortune. I have wealth in my own right, but I wish to use it to keep my wife's holdings intact. After all, my sons will inherit Dunsmore Heath."

  "If you refuse this offer, I'll see that you get nothing," Lord Wycliff interjected. "'Tis far too generous to my way of thinking."

  "Very well, I accept," Bryce agreed. Turning to stare at Devon, he gripped the edge of the table. "I can only assume he knows. Are you really worth so much?"

  "Knows what?" Lord Wycliff asked.

  "Bryce meant that I know how much Dunsmore Heath means to my wife," Liam rushed to explain. "And yes, Bryce, she is worth it," he finished.

  Devon sat back in her chair limp from what had just transpired. Malcolm was beaming with pride over Liam's handling of Bryce Forbes, but Devon's hidden eyes rested on her husband's broad back while he signed the necessary papers. Did he know what she had done?

  The servants brought in trenchers of food for supper. The conversation centered on Bryce's new holdings and Bryce didn't venture another stab at Devon. He knew he was lucky to get a generous settlement, but would he attempt to blackmail her later?

  Eventually Bryce stood and announced he would be leaving in three days to look over his new property. The men shook hands and Lord Wycliff and Bryce walked off to discuss the property settlement details. Liam came over and took Devon's hand, pulling her to her feet.

  "Time to retire," he suggested.

  The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. If Liam knew she had killed Frazer, perhaps tonight he wouldn't be so gentle… but she owed him and she would try to be what he expected. He was protecting her.

  Devon looped her arm through his and walked with him to their chamber. He seemed to sense her hesitance. "Are you afraid to be with me after last night?" he asked.

  "Nay Milord… Liam," she corrected. "I owe you much and I'll try my best to repay you in whatever way you see fit."

  As she faced him, she didn't understand his dark scowl. "I dinna want you in my bed because you seek to pay some debt!" he raged. "I want you there to be my wife!"

  "If I fulfill my obligations, what does it matter why I am there?" Devon retorted. "I'm trying so hard to accommodate you!"

  "Dinna bother!" he snapped. "Come to me willingly, no other way will do!"

  Devon whipped around and flew across the room to the door to her tiny sleeping chamber. "Very well, Milord. I wilna bother!" Without a backward glance, she slammed the door.

  Liam punched angrily at the wall, smashing his fist into the hard rock edifice. She was obligated. She would accommodate him, but Lord help him, she would never love him. That was all he really wanted, her to love him.

  He flew out of the room and found himself once again pacing the floor of the portrait gallery. His phantom bride still hid behind her veil. Had he lost his sanity in pursuit of her? How could he possess her body and never see her face?

  Liam stared up at the portrait. He was a fool. He had fallen in love with a ghost of a woman who once existed. For all he knew, that woman might be lost forever.

  Sarah's memory crept up on him as he stood in the flickering candlelight. Was Sarah so afraid of his reaction to what Morven had done she toke her own life to avoid telling him? Maybe that was why Devon's haunting presence stirred his heart so deeply, he wanted to make up for failing Sarah by saving Devon.

  Chapter Thirteen

  "But Milord, we canna deny the right of hospitality to the Duchess of Rothbury," Moira protested.

  Liam leaned on his elbows at the massive banquet table. He
knew Malcolm was watching with interest.

  "It isna proper to deny anyone hospitality. 'Tis a tradition in the Highlands," Malcolm reminded him. "Am I right in assuming you are well acquainted with Lady Claire Hartgrove, the Duchess of Rothbury?"

  "She thought me the best prospect for her new husband after old Winslow died," Liam explained. "I'm afraid she might upset Devon with her vicious tongue. Claire can be very cruel."

  "Well there's no way around it. We canna deny the Duchess a bed for the night, especially with Lord Wycliff still about. I'll go and warn Devon. You must go and greet our unexpected guests." Liam groaned and Malcolm laughed. "Is she really that bad?"

  "Worse," Liam assured him. Cursing his luck, Liam made his way to the castle gate to greet the merry widow. If only he had slept last night, perhaps he could have dealt with this.

  He saw Claire sitting regally in her carriage. His eyes scanned her entourage looking for a likely consort. Claire never lacked male companionship, especially on calls where she was trying to rub in the fact she and all her holdings could have been Liam's property.

  Well, the joke was probably on him. He might have been happier had he relented and married Claire. She, at least, was very interested in sharing his bed.

  Approaching the carriage, Liam directed the guardsmen to admit the Duchess and her entourage. He opened the carriage door and climbed in, giving her a brilliant smile. "Claire darling, what a pleasure," Liam said smoothly.

  Her face twisted in an angry scowl. "Why?" she asked. "Why do you disgrace me by running off and marrying a widow with less property than me? You could have had it all. I cared for you before Winslow died." Her golden curls jiggled as she nodded her head in affirmation.

  "Precisely," Liam quipped.

  "What are you saying?"

  "Must I spell it out? You married Winslow for his money and property, and then when the old goat got feeble, you had your dalliances with whatever younger man caught your fancy. That wasna what I was looking for in a wife."

  "You're despicable," Claire choked. "I cared for you. You're the only one I begged, and you cast me aside like a common whore. To do what? Marry another widow with less of a title. I hate you!"