Highland Warrior Woman (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Becca Van

  That she had no idea where she was didn’t matter. The only thought going through her mind was to keep going.

  A horse nickered ahead. She froze in her tracks.

  She noticed how dim it had grown under the cover of the trees. Fear rose in her breast once again. It was close to dusk and getting cold. Even though she had her plaid and could use that to wrap herself in, she knew it wouldn’t be enough to keep the chill at bay.

  It was quiet, too. All the creatures of the woods seemed to hold their breaths even as she did. That horse had been too close ahead. Had she wandered near a road?

  Her legs felt too weak to hold her, much less to take her away from this new danger. All she could do was lean against the large tree before her and hope she wouldn’t be found.

  Nausea roiled in her stomach, and even though she was cold to the core, she was also hot. Sweat beaded on her brow and upper lip, and her legs threatened to give way from beneath her. Another wave of pain rolled through her and she doubled over, biting down hard on her lip to keep quiet. Her vision was blurry, and she knew one of her eyes was nearly swollen shut. The skin on her face felt hot and tight and throbbed with pain, and she wondered if she looked as bad as she felt.

  Ahead, she heard the sound of feet landing on the ground, as if a rider had jumped down from his horse.

  The hair on the back of her neck prickled and a sob caught in her throat. She had been found. Vowing to fight her attackers until she breathed her last breath, she straightened up but had to lean against the tree trunk to remain on her feet.

  The voice startled her, causing her to jump, which made pain shoot through her ribs and abdomen again. Doubling over, she clutched at her torso, and she knew she wasn’t going to be able to fight after all. Sweat dripped down between her breasts as her vision faded. Sighing, she reached out for the oblivion of darkness and knew no more.

  Chapter Two

  As Calum stepped out from behind the large tree trunk, his brothers saw the battered bundle in his arms. He heard their gasps of shock and growls of anger.

  Clenching his jaw tight, he gave a nod to Ewan, and his brother dismounted so he could pass the woman over to him. When he had gained the back of his mount, he reached down for Ewan to return the woman to his arms. Releasing the clasp at his shoulder that kept his plaid in place, he withdrew it and wrapped it around the female.

  “Do ye know the lass, Calum?” Hamish asked.

  He gave a slight shake of his head and urged his mount forward. Not another word was spoken until they entered the keep more than an hour later. The lass hadn’t stirred, and her skin felt hot to the touch. He was becoming very worried.

  “Gerty, I have need of yer skills,” Calum yelled when he entered the keep and stood at the base of the stairs leading to the bedchambers. “And find Lilith!”

  He knew Gerty would have heard his roar and ascended until he was on the third level, where his and his brothers’ sleeping chambers were. Making his way down the hall, he kicked open the door to his room and gently placed the lass onto his large bed. He began removing her clothes so their cook and their healer could tend to the lass once they arrived.

  By the time he had her naked, his jaw was clenched so tight his teeth ached. Not one inch of her had been left untouched. She was black and blue all over, and he could see the imprint of knuckles embedded in the skin of her stomach.

  “Oh my lord, ye poor wee lass,” Gerty moaned as she entered Calum’s chambers and saw the battered woman.

  Calum watched his housekeeper intently, making sure she didn’t inadvertently hurt the female even though he knew the notion was ludicrous. Gerty was one of the gentlest souls he knew. Why he felt the need to protect the strange lass, he couldn’t say, but the need to see to her safety and care seemed paramount.

  Gerty washed the lass all over and then applied salve to the bruises. Soaking a cloth in witch hazel, she placed it on the lass’s inflamed eye and then dipped another cloth into the solution and covered her swollen face, only leaving her nose and mouth free. Once she was done, Calum handed over one of his shirts to his housekeeper then walked over to the bed and gently lifted the lass until she was half sitting and half reclining against his chest. He held her while Gerty pulled his shirt over her slight body.

  “Who would do such a thing, Calum?” Gerty whispered furiously.

  “I donnae know, Gerty, but I intend to find oot,” he replied in a hard voice.

  Light footsteps sounded on the stone floor outside the chamber. Calum looked up and motioned Lilith into the room.

  “Ye asked for me, Laird?”

  “Aye, Lilith. The lass is hurt. Would ye please see if there is anything ye can do to ease her pain?”

  Calum watched Lilith examine the injured girl. “Gerty has done much of the work,” she said aloofly.

  He wondered what he had ever seen in the woman. Now that he had seen the battered angel in his bed, Lilith looked so cold and calculating. He had been thinking with his phallus, not with his head.

  Although he had told Lilith from the start that he wanted no emotional entanglement with her, she had accepted him into her body on a few occasions and he had shared her with his brothers once, too. But Lilith seemed almost emotionless, and he had never seen any indication of tender feelings for him in her eyes when they had lain together. It had taken his younger brother’s words to wake him up and make him see that Lilith was only after a position of power and was using him, too. He hadn’t touched her in months, and the thought of doing so again made his stomach churn.

  “Aye, and I did it well,” Gerty said coolly to Lilith before turning back to Calum. “Do ye know who the lass is?”

  “Other than that she is a MacTavish, nay.”

  “She has the fever and will need to be watched closely. I’ll send up some food and drink.” Gerty bustled from the room.

  Lilith stood from the bed and faced him. “The lass doesnae seem to have wounds inside her. She has a slight fever and lots of bruising, but she will heal.”

  “Thank ye, Lilith.” Calum gestured to the chair near the hearth and took the seat opposite. “I know ye and I have shared a bed upon occasion, as ye have with me and my brothers. I thank ye again for yer attentions, but we cannae share a bed again.”

  “Ye have found another woman ye want to share, Laird?”

  Calum ignored the acerbic pronunciation of his title and stared into Lilith’s cold eyes.

  “Aye,” he answered, his eyes trailing over to the lass in his bed.

  “I see,” Lilith said, rising to her feet. “I’ll thank ye for the use of yer and yer brothers’ bodies. I best take my leave, Laird. I have much to do this day.”

  Calum sighed and watched Lilith leave. He didn’t like hurting her, and by the look in her eyes he knew he had, but she had known from the beginning that he wasn’t going to wed her and she had said that she wasn’t interested in marriage. Maybe he had been wrong to use her, but she had used him, too. There was nothing he could do about it now, so he thought over what to do with the lass in his bed.

  Calum heard heavy steps on the stone stairs and knew his two younger brothers, Ewan and Hamish, were about to appear in his bedchamber. When they entered the room, Calum met their gazes and held up his hand before the barrage of questions started.

  “Nay, she has no’ awakened, so I still donnae know who she is. I will no’ know if she doesnae survive.”

  “The lass is that ill?” Hamish asked.

  “She has the fever,” Calum answered. “We will need to watch her closely.”

  “I volunteer to help watch through the night,” Ewan said.

  “I as well.”

  “That will no’ be necessary. The lass is in my bed, and I will stay with her throughout the night.”

  “But…” Hamish began.

  Calum wasn’t interested in arguing with his little brother right now. “Ewan, take word to Laird MacTavish that one of his clan is here. The last thing I want is to give our neighbors a reason to
declare war on our clan for something we had no part in.”

  “Let me go,” Hamish said. “I’m a faster rider.”

  “Ye want to do everything tonight,” Ewan muttered.

  Calum raised a hand for silence. “Ewan will go. Hamish, I know ye too well for this. Ye will goad MacTavish into a temper.”

  “As he might deserve!” Hamish replied hotly. “He dinnae look after one of his own.”

  Calum looked to Ewan. Ewan kept his emotions locked down tight and thought through situations logically. “I’ll go on the morrow,” Ewan said. “If MacTavish will allow it, I will bring him back to our keep.”

  “If he doesnae allow it, bring him back anyway,” Calum said with a growl.

  Ewan nodded and left the room. Calum turned his attention to Hamish, who was watching the woman in the bed.

  “She dinnae deserve this treatment,” Hamish murmured.

  Sighing, Calum sat again in the chair beside the hearth. “We donnae get what we deserve, Hamish. Not in this life.”

  At times like this, Calum felt ages older than his brothers. Ewan was only three years his junior, but Hamish had yet to turn seven and twenty. Calum just hoped that his younger brother would mature with a few more years.

  Even though Calum himself was only five and thirty, sometimes he felt more like he had seen six decades. The responsibility of the clan weighed on his shoulders at times like these. Usually he loved being in control and giving orders and felt it was what he had been born to do, but being the laird was a lonely position. He craved the attention of a soft, gentle woman by his side.

  His brothers did, too. Calum looked at the wee lass in his bed. His heart clenched at seeing her injuries. Protectiveness washed over him, and he wanted to scoop her up into his arms and offer her comfort. That surprised him. He’d always been protective of the women of his clan collectively, but never had he felt the deep-seated need to hold and nurture a woman. He was attracted to the little bundle in his bed and hoped he would have a chance to get to know her. He was concerned and didn’t know if she’d last the night. Although from what Lilith said she had no bleeding inside.

  “Donnae take it personally that I sent Ewan and not ye,” Calum said. “We cannae afford for ye to lose yer temper at MacTavish.”

  “I can control it,” Hamish said, turning to face Calum with his arms crossed over his chest.

  Calum shook his head. “Aye, as you controlled it with Bridget’s husband?”

  Hamish’s face colored. “That was different. He deserved it.”

  Calum couldn’t argue that point. A few years before, Hamish had caught one of their own clansmen hitting his wife. He had given the man no quarter and beaten him within an inch of his life before Calum had banished him.

  “He did,” Calum agreed. “And it earned ye the gratitude of that woman.”

  Now Hamish smiled. The woman, Bridget, had been so grateful and enamored of his brother that she had taken Hamish to her bed.

  But then, Hamish always seemed to have the single lasses following after him and giggling. His brother never seemed to be bothered by them. He would usually give them a smile and a wink, and he often stopped to talk to them. They all loved him as much as he loved them.

  When Calum had once asked Gerty what drew women to Hamish, she had laughed and then told him that his brother had the body of a warrior, the heart of a bard, and the face of an angel.

  Ewan didn’t have women trailing after him like Hamish did, but he seemed to have his choice of bed partner when he felt the need to expend some sexual energy. Calum himself was not that lucky in love. He rubbed the scar slashing down the side of his face. He knew he wasn’t handsome, with his too-harsh face, a wide brow, and deep-set eyes. Since he had been injured years ago by the tip of an enemy’s sword, the lasses barely looked at him. Lilith was the one woman he could call upon. She was a bonny lass, but the pleasure he took in her company had dwindled over time. Now he had dismissed her and felt a sense of relief.

  He felt his gaze pulled once more to the woman in his bed. Would she be afraid of him when she saw him?

  Calum told himself sternly not to worry about it now. As laird, he was accustomed to keeping his emotions at bay. He would have to do the same with the injured woman, no matter how she tugged at his heart.

  Hamish’s voice summoned him from his thoughts. “Ye think MacTavish will war with us?”

  “God willing, he will no’. I’m tired of this fighting among the clans. Peace in the highlands is what I want.”

  “We’re too stubborn a lot for that,” Hamish said.

  “Well, we shall see when Ewan returns.” Calum stood. “Go downstairs and sup. I will let ye know if there is any change.”

  Calum watched Hamish’s shoulders slump dejectedly and knew that both his kin were drawn to the wee lassie as much as he was. But he didn’t want his siblings getting their hopes up only to be disappointed if she did not survive her wounds.

  Moving closer to the lass, he gently brushed away the flaxen tresses around her face. From what he could see, when the discoloration and swelling went down, she would be a great beauty. When she moaned and whimpered in her sleep, he gently stroked her arm and made soothing noises. He was pleased when she quieted right down and drifted into a deeper sleep.

  “Do ye think we should call for a priest?” Hamish asked.

  “Nay, she will no’ die,” Calum replied. “She is bruised and battered, aye, but she is still breathing clearly and deeply. She will live, and then she will give me the name of the bastard who did this to her. No woman should have to suffer such.”

  “We are with ye, Calum. We will help ye avenge the lass,” Hamish stated. “I know Ewan stands beside ye, too.”

  Calum nodded. He had never doubted that they would help him get revenge for the lass. They had been brought up to cherish women and their loving, gentle ways. Just because a man was stronger physically did not mean that he had the right to beat on someone with less strength and stature. As far as he and the men of the Campbell clan were concerned, the weaker should be protected.

  Hamish took his leave, and Calum sat down on the side of his bed. He studied the lass intently as his thoughts drifted over clan matters.

  How long he sat there, he wasn’t sure. Calum only pushed his musings aside when the lass on his bed moaned and flailed her arms. She pulled at the cloths on her face and flung them aside. She stared at him through her one good eye, glazed by fever, and then licked her dry lips.

  “Who are ye?” she rasped out of a dry throat.

  “Hush, lass. Donnae try to talk until I get ye some water.” Calum rose to his feet and walked across to the fur-covered window. Beneath it stood a small chest, upon which was an urn of water. He poured the liquid into a goblet and then turned back to her. She was still watching him. Though her look was wary, she reached for the cup with shaky hands.

  “Let me help ye, lass.” Calum eased his arm behind her. Supporting her shoulders with his arm and her head with his hand, he brought the vessel to her lips. When the first bit of liquid touched her lips, she began to gulp greedily. “Donnae drink so fast. Ye will make thyself ill.” He withdrew the goblet and placed it on the floor and eased her back down onto the bed.

  “What’s yer name, lass?”

  “Maeghan Fraser.”

  “What were ye doing oot in the middle of nowhere without an escort?”

  Despite her injured state, she seemed to balk at the question. “Who are ye?” she asked fiercely. “Where am I?”

  “I am Calum Campbell, laird to the Campbell clan. Ye are in my home. Now, answer my question, Maeghan,” he demanded.

  Haltingly, Maeghan told him that she had been taken from the village by Laird MacLeod. Calum had to control his anger as she described the way she had been beaten. He didn’t want to alarm Maeghan with his rage, particularly as it wasn’t directed at her.

  He did feel compelled to ask one question, though. “Why does a woman always think she is a nuisance when she ne
eds an escort? No woman in my clan may leave without a guard.”

  “I am no woman of your clan,” Maeghan replied. “I live alone.”

  “What of your family?”

  “My father died six months ago. He died protecting the life of our laird.” She turned her head on the pillow, looking away from Calum. “Laird MacTavish moved me to a smaller cottage. I have a neighbor by the name of Lauren who is a good friend to me, but the other women of that clan say I am the spawn of the devil.”

  From her proud manner and sharp tongue, Calum could begin to guess why others might tell tales about her. “And what of the men?”

  She looked at him sharply. “What of them?”

  He didn’t press the point. She must not be wed to have been travelling alone.

  “Most of the clan are strangers to me,” she said. “My father kept me apart from others.”

  “Well,” Calum said softly, “perhaps ye have learned yer lesson, now. I doubt ye shall leave yer clan alone again. But it grieves me that ye learned it the hard way.”

  “Aye, I’ve learned my lesson,” Maeghan said. “Next time I’ll bring my sword with me!”

  Despite her feisty words, she was struggling to keep her eye open as the fever and her injuries took a toll on her slight body, but she seemed to fight the urge to sleep.

  Calum sighed when he heard footsteps on the stone steps and knew his brothers were on their way to his bedchamber. The lass obviously heard the noise and shifted her eye to the door. She clutched at the fur blanket with her fingers until her knuckles turned white and nearly jumped a foot when Ewan slammed into the room.

  Ewan was never one to creep about the place. If he wanted something or to go somewhere, he didn’t let anything or anyone get in his way. And sometimes he didn’t know his own strength. The heavy timber door slammed against the opposite wall. Ewan walked up the bed and stood looking down at Maeghan.

  “How is she?”

  “She’ll live.”

  “How are ye feeling, lass?” Hamish asked, shoving Ewan to the side and kneeling on the floor beside the bed, knocking over the goblet of water in the process.