An Outcast's Wish (Highland Heartbeats Book 3)

by Aileen Adams

  And then Alis realized. Patrick. Sarah and Heather’s stepfather. She remembered Maccay briefly mentioning their history, even before she had inadvertently eavesdropped on Maccay’s supposedly private conversation with Phillip.

  Sarah and Heather’s stepfather was here to take them back? How could he? He was just a man, accompanied by one other. But she didn’t know that for sure. They had mentioned the McGregors. An enemy clan by the sounds of it.

  What should she do? She felt torn as anger surged within her again. Maybe it would serve them right. If Heather and Sarah had knowledge of what Phillip believed her capable of, that she was a spy, she should let them fend for themselves.

  She didn’t want to get mixed up in all of this. Unfortunately, she already was.

  And yet… and yet she couldn’t forget the fact that Sarah and Heather had taken care of her. Regardless of what they believed, they had been kind. Sarah’s ministrations of her injuries had been gentle. She was a healer. She had treated her with dignity and compassion. More than once Alis had seen the deep affection she shared for Phillip. She had seen the same between Heather and Jake. They were not being kept at Duncan manor against their will.

  The thought of either woman being yanked from their home filled her with a sense of sadness. Nobody deserved that. Nobody deserved to be forced to stay where they were not wanted. Which only left her feeling more despondent. She fought those feelings back, not sure how to overcome them.

  She had to stay focused, aware of her environment. If one of those men ventured behind the rocks, she would be discovered. She had to move, although doing so would be risky.

  Peering around, she studied the placement of several of the larger rocks. Even if she moved very slowly, they might hear her clothing, or maybe even a footfall. But she couldn’t linger. Every moment she did increased the risk of discovery.

  She couldn’t wait for them to fall asleep. They might not even make their night’s camp here. Maybe they had only stopped to rest. Perhaps they would continue on to the Duncan manor… and what about this Clyde? Were they to meet him here?

  No, she couldn’t linger.

  Ever so slowly, she shifted her position, placing her hands on the ground on either side of her body, and in slow increments lifted her feet from the ground and brought them closer to her torso. She would stand, and as quickly and quietly as possible, flee down the path she had already chosen.

  If they did hear or see her, she would be in the woods before they could come after her. She would leap up and run and just hope for the best. She knew the way she had come up to this cluster of rocks, but of course she hadn’t memorized the placement of every shrub, every rock, every exposed tree root that could easily hamper her efforts or worse, injure her or leave her easy prey for those two men on the other side of the rocks.

  She rose, resolved that she would go back to the manor house, warn the laird, and then leave again.

  She wasn’t going to stay anywhere she was not welcome. She might not be welcome on Duncan lands, but she would help Sarah and Heather. She owed them that much. After that, she would eventually find someplace she would fit in.

  Maybe her memory would come back one day, and maybe it wouldn’t. At the moment, it no longer mattered.

  She was coming into her own as Alis.

  Simply Alis.

  No history, no future, at least that she could imagine at this point.

  So, her heart pounding with anxiety, listening for the slightest sound that would indicate that the men had discovered her, she dashed away from the rocks, focusing on exactly where to place her feet as she scrambled along the slope, careful not to step on any fallen branch, no stone that might roll, nor brush up against shrubs as she swiftly headed downslope on the balls of her feet.

  She held her breath, didn’t even dare to breathe until she disappeared into the shadows of the forest around her.

  She would warn the laird.

  Whether he believed her or not was up to him.

  She didn’t much care.

  15

  Maccay was worried. Very worried. Alis was out there and darkness would fall soon.

  She was out there all alone, probably growing chilled, and maybe more than a little afraid.

  He sat on his horse, scanning the silhouette of the mountains, squinting against the glare of the setting sun illuminating landscape.

  “She’ll be all right.”

  He turned to Hugh and nodded. “I know. I know she can survive out there, but it’s just…”

  “You more than like her, don’t you Maccay?”

  At that moment, he had to accept the truth. He had grown more than fond of Alis.

  Did he love her? He wasn’t sure. He’d never been in love before. Was love something that twisted one’s stomach into tight knots? Made a person feel sick and happy at the same time? Did love precipitate such heart-pounding concern for the welfare of someone else? Of course, it was his duty to protect the inhabitants of the village, and Sarah and Heather. That was his duty.

  This… this feeling with Alis, it went deeper than duty. Much deeper.

  When did it happen? How did it happen?

  He shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

  “Like what?”

  He turned to his friend. “I don’t like this feeling, but it’s there and I don’t think it’s going to go away anytime soon.”

  “You want it to?”

  “No.” He didn’t.

  In fact, the knowledge that he could very well be falling in love with Alis filled him with an odd sense of contentment and pleasure. Ever the loner, yet always friendly, Maccay has spent most of his life alone. His youth was nothing to boast about.

  The concept of loyalty was one thing. Love, something else.

  Of course, he saw how much Phillip and Sarah meant to each other, and Heather and Jake as well, but he never in his life imagined that he would become emotionally involved with someone to the point that he understood what his friends shared with their spouses.

  “I was in love once.”

  Maccay knew that.

  A few years ago, Hugh had been besotted by one of the villagers. A beautiful young woman with silvery white blond hair, the fairest of skin, and incredibly light blue eyes.

  Maccay remembered Hugh walking around with a perpetual grin on his lips, his chest puffed proudly because everyone in the village knew that Hugh and the young woman… Elyse… had eyes for one another.

  It lasted an entire summer, with Hugh becoming increasingly annoying and difficult to be around because all he wanted to talk about was the beautiful lass, not that Maccay was jealous, but it was just getting… tiresome. To the point that Maccay had suggested he just marry the girl and get it over with.

  But then she had gone into the woods one day to gather berries. When she hadn’t returned home by late that afternoon, her little brother had found Hugh and told him that her sister had failed to return.

  Both Hugh and Maccay had ridden into the woods, searching for her. Less than an hour later, they found her, horribly mangled and bloody. She’d been attacked by a wild boar, her clothing and her body nearly ripped to shreds, only the sight of her silvery, blonde hair definitively identifying her.

  Hugh had been crushed. It had taken him more than a year to overcome his grief and sorrow.

  Maccay didn’t want to experience the same. Maybe it was best that Alis learned the truth, the true reason why Maccay had invited her to live under his roof.

  Still, it hurt.

  If she truly had loss of memory, he didn’t wish her to think that she was unwanted. How many times could a person be abandoned before they gave up on life?

  “We’ll find her, Maccay, don’t worry.”

  But that was just it. He was. With memories of Elyse’s bloodied body now riveted in his thoughts, Maccay said nothing.

  “It will soon be dark. We’re not going to make any more progress tonight. She’s hiding. With the new moon, it will be difficult to see and we coul
d be way off track.” He turned to his friend. “We should go back to the manor. We’ll head out at daylight and pick up her trail then.”

  Nodding, Maccay turned his horse and followed Hugh as they made their way back to the manor house. He wanted to keep searching, but Hugh was right. He didn’t want to risk Bruce stepping into a hole or slipping on the rocky soil and injuring himself. He could have insisted that he would simply make camp, but they hadn’t ventured that far from the manor house to stay out here.

  His heart heavy, not sure what to do with his feelings, not the least of which was guilt, they rode back in silence.

  By the time they returned to the manor house, Maccay wanted only to stable Bruce, brush him down, and then climb into bed, to put Alis out of his mind, if only for a little while. She would be all right. He convinced himself of it. Besides, he had to figure out what he was going to do about these feelings that he had acknowledged. What if Alis didn’t feel the same way? What if she already belonged to someone? What if she already had a husband, and children, or a family that loved her?

  He frowned. If she had a husband or a family that loved her and were looking for her, why hadn’t they heard about it? Gossip traveled fast in the highlands, and even across clan lines. If someone was out there looking for Alis, or whatever her real name was, they would’ve heard about it by now. He was sure of it. And if not, what then? What if he proclaimed his affection for her and she did agree to stay? What if she… what if she woke up one day and remembered who she was, and wanted nothing to do with him or—

  “Maccay!”

  Maccay glanced toward the side door where he saw the cook gesturing for him. He turned to Hugh. “Thanks for… well, just thanks.”

  Hugh nodded and continued on toward the stables while Maccay turned his horse toward the side yard and then dismounted, ground tying Bruce.

  “What is it, Cook?”

  “Inside! Come inside!”

  Without waiting for Maccay to reply, she grabbed his tunic sleeve and literally pulled him into the kitchen after her.

  He followed, frowning with consternation. “Why are you—”

  She paused in front of the door that opened into the great hall and then turned to him, fingers pressed against her lips.

  “Look!”

  She opened the door slightly and Maccay peered over her shoulder.

  At first, his heart thudded with relief. Overwhelming relief, so startled he couldn’t move.

  He saw Phillip, Jake, and Sarah and Heather gathered around the fire, speaking softly amongst themselves.

  And in the middle that small cluster stood Alis.

  So relieved was he to see her that he quickly brushed past Cook and rushed into the great room.

  “Alis!”

  Without a thought to what others might think, he made his way toward her and then enveloped her in his arms, hugging her against him.

  “I can’t believe you’re safe! We’ve been out looking for you—”

  She wasn’t hugging him back.

  At the moment, he didn’t even care. She was safe! She wasn’t injured! She’d come back!

  She looked up at him, eyebrows lowered in anger.

  “Alis, I know you heard—”

  Phillip interrupted.

  “Maccay, we’ve got trouble.”

  Maccay glanced at the small circle, saw how close Heather and Sarah stood next to their respective husbands, Sarah’s hands wrapped protectively around her belly.

  Their faces were pale but Jake’s was red with anger, his jaw clenching and unclenching. Phillip kept glancing toward the front door.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Alis brought us some news.”

  Maccay glanced from Phillip back down to Alis, who had put some space between them.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, her expression displaying reluctance.

  She didn’t meet his eyes.

  “Alis, I’m sorry you had to hear what you did—”

  She turned on him with a look, her voice thick with pain. “You think I’m a spy.”

  What could he say to that?

  Her accusation was true.

  He glanced helplessly at Phillip.

  “And tell me this, Maccay,” she said, then turned to Phillip, and then toward Jake. “Tell me what I’m supposed to do? If I am a spy, who am I supposed to run and report to? I can’t even remember who I am!” She paused. “But you think I’m pretending, that I really do know who I am—”

  Maccay placed his hand on her shoulder.

  She shrugged it off.

  “Alis—”

  “I can understand the suspicion,” she continued. “After all, I appeared out of nowhere.” She paused, swallowed, and blinked back tears that filled her eyes. “I wish I knew for sure.” She looked at all of them. “Don’t you think I want to know who I am? Don’t you think I want to know where I belong?”

  “Alis, it no longer matters, don’t you see?” Sarah said gently. “Even if you were a spy, you’re not a spy any longer. You have a chance to start a new life, here with us.”

  Phillip opened his mouth to say something, but Sarah raised her hand, preparing to say her piece. “Despite what you heard, despite what you believe, you came back. You came back to warn us.”

  She looked at Phillip and then at Jake, then finally to her sister. “You risked your safety, and braved the laird’s suspicions to warn us. If nothing else, your actions proclaim the person you are. Someone who is compassionate, loyal, and who seeks justice and righteousness.”

  Alis said nothing, but stood with drooping shoulders, as if in surrender. She finally forced herself to look at Maccay, but quickly glanced away.

  “What’s happened?” Maccay asked impatiently.

  Sarah replied. “In the forest, she came across two men heading for the manor.”

  Maccay glanced at Heather, who looked pained.

  Sarah continued. “Apparently, our stepfather has found us. He’s riding with at least one other person who has legal authority, and he’s planning on using that authority to take us away.”

  “He can’t do that,” Maccay frowned. “You’ve both married into the Duncan clan. He has no right.”

  “But he can make trouble, and it’s apparent that he’s made contact with the McGregors—”

  Maccay glanced at Alis, then at Sarah before once again turning his gaze on Jake. “Clyde?”

  Jake nodded a growl rumbling in his chest.

  “Bastards,” Maccay muttered, then shook his head. “You’re legally married. Neither of the women were forced into those marriages,” he said to Jake and Phillip. “And we have plenty of witnesses to testify to that. He has no charges to bring against you.”

  “He might be able to,” Phillip said softly.

  Maccay understood exactly to what incident Phillip was referring. When they had first ventured down toward the coast toward Kirkcaldy, they had taken Sarah against her will. That things had turned out differently, that she had fallen in love with the highland laird and eventually married him, might not overrule the original charges of kidnapping.

  Still, he was confused. “How do you think he found out?”

  “I have no doubt that Ceana had some role in this,” Jake grumbled. “A note penned to Patrick MacDonald would be all that it took. The timing might be right too.”

  Maccay sighed. Would Ceana’s betrayals and treachery never end? Even from beyond the grave?

  “We’ll be ready for him,” Phillip said, his expression somber. He glanced down at Alis. “Alis, I will be honest with you. I don’t know whether you’re a spy or you’re not, but I do swear to you now that because of your deed, you will be given the benefit of the doubt. I truly believe that you have lost your memory, and so I cannot place blame where it cannot be proven.”

  Maccay was happy to hear that. But still—

  A voice from outside shouted a warning.

  “Riders coming! Four of them!”

  Phillip glanced down at Alis
with a frown. “You saw two riders?”

  She offered a small shrug. “I heard two different voices. I didn’t actually see anyone. It doesn’t mean there were not others behind them or some who joined them later.”

  “Sarah, Heather, go upstairs.”

  They immediately did as he bade, quickly mounting the stairs.

  Maccay heard a door slam shut behind them.

  For the moment, Alis was forgotten.

  Maccay watched her stiff posture, her uncertainty.

  She was still angry and he couldn’t really blame her.

  At the moment however, they had more pressing matters that needed to be attended to than her feelings.

  Phillip gave orders.

  “Jake, gather the men. If there is to be trouble, I want to be prepared.”

  He glanced at Maccay.

  Alis stood uncertainly, not sure what to do.

  Maccay wanted to guide her, to wrap his arm around her shoulder and offer his support, but knew she wouldn’t appreciate that, at least not at the moment.

  “Stand here, with us,” he told Maccay, gesturing toward Jake, whose face had taken on a foreboding, threatening scowl.

  “Alis, I think it’s best if you went returned to Maccay’s house. Go through the kitchen and behind the house.”

  Maccay saw the ensuing frown.

  She felt reluctant to do so.

  His heart sank.

  As far as she was concerned, he had betrayed her and it would take a lot of effort to convince her otherwise.

  He was about to speak to her when the door opened and Hugh entered, his expression troubled, one hand on his short sword. The look in his eyes was less than pleased.

  Alis turned to walk toward the doorway leading into the kitchen area.

  Everything happened at once.

  A heavy-set and red-cheeked man pushed his way past Hugh, his expression belligerent. He pointed a fat, stubby finger at Phillip while another man followed closely on his heels, unable to halt Patrick MacDonald from walking directly up to the laird.

  “Are you the laird of this clan?”

  “Patrick, not this way—”

  “You highland bastard! I’ll—