by Alisa Adams
Rosina nodded.
"You are right, as always, Maisie," she said warmly, smiling at her.
She sought out her father, and Laird Hugh looked at the invitation thoughtfully.
"I think we should go," he said, and looked up at her, "unless you really would rather not. I would understand your reluctance."
"It is not Connor's company I object to," she said sadly, "and I have never been into that castle, but I know that every brick of it will remind me of Alasdair." She mulled it over for a few moments longer.
"But it may be a way of cementing ties between our two families again," she said slowly, "I don't wish us to be enemies after what happened to Alasdair, so I think we will go."
Accordingly she sent a message back to Connor accepting the invitation. If she had seen his face when he received the news she would have been very glad to know that she had made a fellow human being so happy.
Malcolm rode speedily to his rendezvous with Logan and found him sitting with his back resting against a tree, dozing. He shook his shoulder and Logan woke up suddenly, startled. When he saw Malcolm he yawned and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.
"Sorry, Malcolm," he said groggily, "I did not sleep well last night."
"Was the bed uncomfortable, sir? I cannot believe that!"
* * *
Logan shook his head.
"Nightmares, Malky," he said flatly, "bad ones. Do you have news for me?"
"First you must eat," he insisted, handing over a bag of oatcakes, cheese, apples, and a stoppered jar of milk.
"I have news," Malky went on, "he got a quick glimpse o' ye, but no' a really good look. It wis too dark. But he has made up his mind it wis you because o' the bunnet, and has said so tae the Justice. His men have questioned mony people already an' are coming tae question you an' a'. They sound very serious, my Laird, but they have very little tae go on."
Logan shook his head.
"Proof is not something they really need, Malky," he said sadly, "I am not well liked around here, as you know. Many people would be glad to see me gone."
"Because they dinnae' knaw ye like I dae, my Laird," Malcolm said fondly. Logan smiled at him, then frowned, thinking.
"I wish I knew what was in their minds," he said thoughtfully, "will they come and speak to me or will they imprison me? They may go to see Connor McPhail first, and I don't think he has any love for me either."
"Surely no', my Laird?" Malcolm laughed, "on the testimony of ane big eejit who caught a glimpse o' a man wi' a bunnet in the starlight? That's daft! How many men were at the weddin' wi' bunnets on? Twenty? D'ye think they will question jist you?"
Logan nodded.
"You're right," he said decisively, "and I do not want to be seen running away like a coward, Malky."
"And the Lady Rosina?" Malcolm asked, "could she have been seen ootside her room?"
Logan shook his head emphatically.
"She had just - killed him when I went in, and Maisie was there not thirty seconds later. She was still standing in the same place - poor lass - she was an awful sight. I have never seen anyone so wretched."
They mounted their horses and went back to Castle Fraser at walking pace. It was threatening rain, but Fraser was too tired to care. Malcolm was busy with his own thoughts, so they made no noise apart from the sound of the horses' hooves on the hard-trodden earth. They were startled out of their wits, therefore, when two men on big powerful black horses emerged out of the trees and blocked their way. Both men were startled, but Logan, who had a lot of personal dignity and authority, due to his status as a Laird, bowed in the saddle and greeted them pleasantly enough.
* * *
"Good morning gentlemen," he said politely, "what can I do for you?"
"You can come with us, Laird Fraser," the bigger of the two men said. He was bald and barrel-chested, but he looked powerful, and Logan had no wish to cross him.
"Why?" He asked, frowning in apparent puzzlement.
"We are taking you to the Magistrate, where you will be questioned about the murder of Alasdair McPhail."
Suddenly Logan exploded into laughter, slapping his thigh and pointing at Malcolm.
"I told you this would happen, Davie, didn't I?" he swayed in the saddle, laughing so hard he almost fell off. Malcolm, who had joined in, immediately agreed with him.
"Aye, sir, ye did," he said, nodding at the two other men, who were sitting immobile, looking baffled. One of them, a skinny redhead, started to join in a little sheepishly. Presently Logan wiped his eyes and shook his head.
"Forgive me, gentlemen, but whenever Davie and I go out this happens at least once!" he paused to stifle another sob of laughter. When he went on in it was in a strangely altered mode of speech. "You see, I am Iain Stuart, Logan's cousin on his mother's side. Our fathers were identical twins, so we resemble each other to an uncanny degree, but I am only visiting him. I come from Fife, as you can no doubt hear by my accent. This is my manservant, Davie Lennox, and we have been out rabbit hunting, hence my very dirty clothes." He sighed, "unfortunately we had no luck today."
* * *
"And where is your cousin today?" the darker man asked, frowning.
"Probably out visiting one of his tenants," Logan said blithely, his Fife accent coming out very strongly now, "he is strangely devoted to them. Do you know that one of them called her baby after him? Anyway, if you wish we can take you to the castle, but I doubt you will find him there."
The two men conferred briefly for a moment, then the darker one, who seemed to be in charge, said:
"Naw, thank ye, Sir. I apologize for oor mistake," he nodded farewell and rode away at a trot with his companion. The minute they were out of earshot Logan slumped in his saddle and put his hand over his eyes. He was shaking, half with relief and half with mirth. Malcolm let out a hoot of laughter.
* * *
"I have never seen onything like it!" he said incredulously, "how did ye dae that? And yon accent!"
Logan smiled faintly.
"I have no idea," he replied grimly, "let us make haste, Malky. We must get to the castle and I must leave as quickly as I can. They are stupid fellows, but they will soon realize they have been duped. How do you think they found us? Sam?"
* * *
"Naw, he is an honest man, I'd bet my life on it," he answered grimly, "but Donald, that wee nyaff. I'd put ma money on him."
Logan started to urge his horse into motion, but Malcolm put a hand on his arm, staying him for a moment.
"Do you not think it would be wiser to go somewhere else, sir?" he asked worriedly, "I can get what you need."
Logan thought for a moment.
"Aye, that is a better idea, Malky," he said, sighing, "I will go back towards Rosina's. You can meet me in the little abandoned cottage a little way away from the main gate."
Malcolm nodded, but before they went their separate ways he said:
"Sir, I have somethin' tae ask ye."
Logan raised his eyebrows enquiringly.
"Whereaboots in Fife dae ye come fae?"
"Dunfermline," Logan replied, without missing a beat.
"Is that where yer cousin comes fae?" Malcolm asked mischievously.
Logan grinned.
"I haven't got any cousins," he replied.
22
More Coffee
Logan had almost reached the end of the forest path when he saw the last person he had ever expected to see. Maisie was cantering towards him, looking more scared than he had ever seen her before. They were both equally shocked to see the other. Logan reined in, but Maisie beckoned him a little farther back inside the cover of the trees.
"Maisie - you look so frightened," he said urgently, "what is it?"
Maisie, who was normally so placid, bit back a sob. She looked over her shoulder to check if she was being followed, then breathed a sigh of relief as she saw no-one. When Logan looked closely at her he saw that her hands were shaking, and he covered them with his own. They
were freezing. He dismounted from the horse and helped her down too, then put his arms around her to comfort her. Even though there was no chemistry between them, it felt good to hold a woman in his arms again. Eventually she stopped trembling and he let her go.
"Tell me why you are so upset," he asked gently.
"Two men came to the castle today, to ask the Mistress if she had heard anything," she said shakily, "and they asked if we knew where you were. They assumed we had not heard that you were a suspect. The guards told them they had not seen you but they said they wanted to arrest you. I was coming to warn you."
"You could have been in danger," he pointed out, "anything could have happened to you."
Maisie smiled grimly.
"The guards pointed in a different direction to the one I was going to take and anyway," she drew aside the folds of her riding habit to reveal a short sword in a leather scabbard, "I know how to use it."
* * *
He laughed in amazement and took his hands away, then grew serious.
"These men," he asked, frowning, "were they riding black horses, and was one dark and the other a redhead?"
"Yes," she replied, "how did you know?"
* * *
"Because we met them!" he grimaced, "they must have looped around and come back this way."
"And you met them? How did you get away?"
He shrugged.
"I pretended to be my cousin. Malcolm pretended to be my servant."
"You have saved me a journey, my Laird," she said gratefully, "thank you."
"I need to speak to Lady Rosina," he said urgently, "is she at home?"
"Yes, and she will see you. She is very worried about you."
They rode back to the castle and were welcomed at the gate by a very relieved Rosina. It was beginning to rain and they went inside just as the first drops began to fall. Rosina led them into one of the guest bedrooms that had the best view of the gatehouse.
Rosina looked out of the window then turned to Logan, taking his hands.
"Logan, this is all my fault!" she cried desperately, "I cannot let you take the blame for it! They came to ask if I had heard anything else that might help them to find you. They probably think I am on their side."
He shook his head.
"I was guilty too," he replied, "I hid the body. That is a serious offense," he turned away from her, "Rosie, there is a lot about me you don't know. Sometimes I think I would welcome death." His voice was heavy with despair.
* * *
"Why would you say that?" she asked, mystified. "it makes no sense. You have everything you need - a home, land, enough food, wealth - why would you want to end your life?"
He looked at her and once more she was pinned to the spot by his intense, dazzling blue gaze.
"Oh, it's nothing," he waved away what he had just said, "I'm feeling sorry for myself. I slept badly."
* * *
"Ha!" Rosina clapped her hands, giggling, "I told you not to have that second cup of coffee!"
"You did," he smiled at her, "and I didn't listen."
"Would you like some more to wake you up?"
He pretended to consider for a moment.
"If you will join me," he replied.
She ordered the coffee and the three of them sat in a peaceful silence till it came. Maisie was smocking a dress and Rosina was knitting, a craft she had just recently learned from Maisie. Logan thought how contented he was at that very moment, saying nothing, doing nothing. He could have sat there forever in quiet lassitude, but he had things to do and things to say. Being with these two beautiful women was like an oasis of happiness in the barren desert of his life. He knew he was wallowing in self-pity but it felt good in a perverse kind of way.
* * *
He smelled the coffee before he saw it, and his mouth watered, Rosina had ordered some delicate pastries too and he had to restrain himself from falling on them and swallowing them whole. When the dainty meal was finished, Logan outlined his plan for fleeing to his Highland property.
"I will have to go by night," he said, "with all the possessions I can carry. Malky is coming with them now, and I hope he is not being watched, but he is a clever fellow."
"But your Highland property is the first place they will look for you," Maisie pointed out.
"Aye, but they will be a day or two behind me," he replied, "and I have many friends there, believe it or not."
"I have a better idea," Rosina said impulsively, "stay at our place! It is not large, but I get the feeling that you are not a person who needs all the trappings of luxury?"
"I am not," he smiled, "and I will gladly accept your offer - Rosie. Where is your house?"
* * *
"Fort William - a fair distance," she answered, "so I doubt if you will be found there. And while you are away I am going to find out who started this. I will write directions for you."
She quickly got a pen from the writing table and scribbled down the address and a short letter of introduction, then blotted it and gave it to him.
"I have to go," he said urgently, "Malky will be waiting for me."
Maisie took the coffee tray out of the room and in that moment Rosina reached up to draw Logan's head down to her own and kissed him. There was a frozen moment of surprise when she thought he was going to pull away, then he opened his mouth and began to move his lips on hers softly and sensually. His arms crept around her, gently at first, then tightly, so that their bodies were pressed together with no space between them. He was warm, hard and solid and she heard and felt his breathing deepen as he crushed her against him. Eventually he tore his mouth away from her.
* * *
"Rosie - we can't -" he began, but she put her fingertips to his lips, looking up into the blue of his eyes that were at once warm and cold.
* * *
"NEVER," she said emphatically, "never tell me anything about lost causes ever again!"
Logan was so stunned by what had just happened that he was still staring at Rosina when Maisie came in. She took in the situation in a fraction of a second, averted her eyes and curtsied.
"Anything else you need, Mistress?" she asked politely. Rosina shook her head, Maisie closed the door then Logan pulled her into his arms again and kissed her as if his life depended on it. This was just for today, he promised himself. After today he would never touch her again, and he would live on the memory of it forever. He had to go. He had to hurry. His lips moved from her mouth to her neck, from her face to her breast till he became scared that he would not be able to contain himself any longer, but she pulled away gently.
"Now, Logan Fraser, if you were a lost cause I think you just found yourself again," her eyes were twinkling as she looked up at him. He was shaking his head in disbelief, then his face grew solemn again.
"Rosie - this is just for today. It must not happen again."
* * *
"Why not?"
"I have to go - goodbye, Rosina!" He ran, not looking back. A moment later she saw him riding away towards the old cottage, where she recognized the figure of Malcolm coming out to meet him. They hugged each other, then Logan rode away. In a moment he was gone from sight, but Rosina could still feel the pressure of his lips for hours afterward.
23
Dinner with Connor
Rosina was dreading eating at Connor's house. She felt awkward and guilty as her father escorted her into his sumptuously furnished dining room. If only Connor knew - if only either of them knew, she would not be sitting here now, she was sure. Connor served the wine and they chatted inconsequentially for a while before he asked the question she had been dreading.
"How are you feeling, Rosina?" he asked, calm as ever, "are you recovering?"
"Every day gets a little better, Connor," she replied with an attempt at a bright smile, And you?"
Connor frowned, then sighed.
"To be truthful, I don't know how I feel," he replied, "as you know, Alasdair and I had not had a good relationship for a long
time, but he was still my brother, and I loved him." He was concentrating very hard on his food and avoiding Rosina's eyes, but when he looked up his gaze was one of anger. "Would it surprise you to know that I hated him too?"
"No," Rosina replied, shrugging, "I think we all feel like that sometimes, Connor. I loved him too, but I will admit that sometimes he drove me mad!" she laughed, but she was aching inside. She imagined that the two men at the table were looking at her and seeing 'I killed him' stamped on her forehead. She wished with all her heart that she had never seen nor heard of Alasdair McPhail. He had been a blight on everyone's life.
"No, Rosina, you don’t understand," he said bitterly, "when I say 'I hated him,' I mean it from the bottom of my heart. I detested, loathed and despised what he had become in recent years, although my boyhood self still loved him, and I am glad that he did not show that side of himself to you. Or did he?"
"To me, he was always gentle and kind," she said tenderly, "and I had no reason to believe otherwise. I cannot believe he was taken away from me so cruelly."
* * *
"You were fortunate," he said, "very fortunate, Rosina. He was obliged to marry his first wife - she was carrying his child - but she suffered at his hands, as many women have suffered since. He was a brutal man. But he seemed to love you and I thought this time it would be different."
Rosina frowned, apparently in puzzlement, but her heart was beating nineteen to the dozen. Connor took a sip of his whiskey and began to eat again. During the whole disturbing conversation, he had not raised his voice once.
* * *
"He was one of the reasons I never married," he went on, "because I was not sure if I could keep any wife of mine safe."
