Terri Brisbin Highlander Bundle

by TERRI BRISBIN

  Then the truth of the matter struck him—Lilidh’s husband was dead.

  ‘When did he pass?’ Rob asked as he faced her. He searched her expression for some sign of grief over the loss.

  ‘Nigh to a month ago now,’ she said in a calm voice. A tone far too calm for a wife missing her beloved husband, he thought.

  If she was returning to Lairig Dubh when taken by Symon, then surely she could not be carrying an heir? Was she returning to tell her parents of the news?

  ‘And his heir?’ he asked, unexpectedly nervous over the answer. Somehow the thought of her carrying the child of Iain MacGregor turned his stomach. A political marriage, he had no doubt, but the image of her in that old man’s bed forced Rob to confront many of his old feelings and desires and dreams.

  ‘His brother has taken his seat as chief,’ she explained without having to say more.

  She carried no child of Iain MacGregor in her womb.

  The implications ran furiously through his mind now. The problems. The possibilities. So much to consider and so much to make sense of before taking the next step. It was obvious that the MacGregors were concerned over the shift of loyalties in the area or the news of a new laird would have been announced. The

  MacKenzies could not have known of it or they would have shifted their attentions and attempts for new allies to the larger, more powerful, wealthier MacGregors over his clan. Would they now leave the Mathesons to face the rage of the MacLerie on their own?

  He turned his attention back to the woman in the centre of all of this. He’d still not commented on the death of her husband and she did not look as most women who were recently bereaved appeared.

  ‘My condolences on your loss, Lady MacGregor,’ he said, offering his words to her official title. He’d met and known Iain through his time as foster son to Connor and he seemed a fair man. The only thing he could hold against him was... No, he could not think that. ‘His death was unexpected?’

  At her curt nod, Rob understood that Lilidh would not respond well to pity or too much soft sympathy, so he did not offer that. Since she knew that her marriage had made the two clans allies, Rob did not ask more about it or examine his own feelings when they tried to push their way to the front of his thoughts. Instead, he walked to where she sat and held out his hands again, this time not allowing her to refuse.

  ‘Come. Sitting on the cold floor will only make things worse,’ he said. ‘Did Siusan stay with you all day?’ He’d sent a message to the woman as soon as he’d ordered Lilidh to the kitchens. She was trustworthy and would not torment or abuse Lilidh. He lifted her to her feet and did not release her until she’d taken several steps. When they reached the chair nearest the hearth, she took hold of it and used it to keep her balance.

  ‘Yes, she did. I do not remember her, but she said she’d visited Lairig Dubh years ago,’ Lilidh said. Pushing her now-loosened hair out of her face and over her shoulders, she took in and released a deep breath. ‘May I wash?’ she asked, pointing at the basin where he’d left it on the floor.

  Rob got the basin, added more hot water to it and placed it on the chair before her. After watching her for a few moments, he turned his back and gave her some privacy. It gave him time to sort out his thoughts.

  If he did not take command of everyone in the clan, Lilidh would not be the only one in danger. He had been surprised, much as Symon had been, when he was named his father’s successor, but if he did not step in and fully accept it, so much would be lost in lives and more. Looking back now at Lilidh, Rob knew he would not allow her to be mistreated while in his custody. He might allow others to think what they would, but no one else would give orders about her again.

  This might be his first step—it would not be his last.

  He would discover the truth about Symon’s involvement with both the MacKenzies and, if any, his father’s death. He would convince the elders who stood at Symon’s side to come to his. And whether the MacKenzies

  or the MacLeries held the best opportunities for the Mathesons, he would discover it and make the best treaty for his clan.

  Unfortunately, Symon was more entrenched and well established here than Rob was since he had expected and had been expected to inherit if Ailean, his father’s wife, did not give birth to a legitimate son. Only when his father began to question Symon’s loyalty had the elders wavered in their unconditional support for his cousin. Then, when his father had changed his opinion and resisted the MacKenzies’ overture to a better treaty with them and breaking with the MacLeries, had Rob’s name been brought up as a possibility for tanist.

  His father and Ailean’s untimely deaths took away most of the choices or the time for the elders to evaluate who should be laird next. When their decision was needed, they chose Rob.

  Though tradition called for the chieftain’s chair to move through male heirs, their clan had also looked to female lines if needed and Symon’s claim through his mother would stand. Yet, more than once legitimacy or the lack of it had been overlooked when the clan was in need. Since they were more landowners than nobles, the Mathesons were nothing if not practical when times called for it and these times did just that. But that did not mean that some would be unhappy or that some would try to change the decision of the elders.

  Well, no matter, he was chief. And he had it in his power to remain in that position and to be an even better laird than his father had been. One very much like the man who now wanted his head separated from his shoulders and other bits of him torn apart, too.

  ‘May I walk a bit?’ Lilidh’s voice broke into his reverie.

  ‘Walk?’ he asked, facing her. ‘Where?’

  ‘I just need to walk out some of the cramping,’ she explained. ‘Here would be fine.’

  ‘And that doesn’t hurt more than sitting or lying down?’ He should have not asked about something so personal, something he had no right to question her about. Her expression exposed how much she hated to speak of her leg, but he wanted to know.

  ‘Standing in one place. Sitting in one place. Too many steps. All of those hurt the most. Moving slowly, steadily, walking, even some riding is bearable,’ she said.

  ‘And today?’

  She looked as though she had something to say and then just shook her head instead. Her hair, freed from the earlier braid, fell in waves over her shoulders and down her back, the midnight tresses made even curlier from the form and tightness of the plait. The dark circles under her eyes and the increasing pallor of her skin worried him.

  ‘Go ahead,’ he said, motioning with his hand across the length of the chamber. ‘Have your walk.’

  She gave him an uncertain glance and then bent down and removed her shoes. Lilidh remained leaning over, with her nose nearly touching her knees for several seconds. Then she straightened up and began taking longish strides across his chamber. He watched her for a bit, but decided he should focus his attentions on something other than the beautiful woman gliding along his bedchamber floor.

  He picked up the papers that lay strewn across his table and put them in order. The MacKenzies had written, offering their terms for a new treaty, in language that sounded like a good deal. But the words seemed too flowery and too good to be the truth in deed. What he wouldn’t give to have the MacLerie peacemaker look it over and give him advice.

  The insanity of that thought made him realise how exhausted he was and how few options he and his clan had at this time. Either accept the MacKenzies and convince them to help fight off the MacLeries or, now forced into confrontation, be exterminated by the overwhelming fighting strength of the larger clan. Unfortunately, Symon had taken steps which forced him to do the first without completely preventing the second from happening.

  The third time she passed by him, he put the letters down and watched her, openly. Her leg moved with more ease each time she paced the length of the chamber. She did not stumble now as she had at the beginning. Somehow she must have realised he was not reading and that he was now observing her c
losely. When she raised her eyes from the floor and her path and met his gaze, she tripped and began to fall.

  He was out of his chair before his mind knew he was moving.

  Chapter Nine

  His strong arms encircled her, catching her before she landed on the floor. His motion still took them down, but he cushioned her body in his and suffered the brunt of the fall. Rob rolled them on the floor and they came to a stop in front of the hearth.

  ‘Are you hurt?’ he asked, helping her back up, but never quite taking his hands from her. And for one moment, God forgive her, she wished he would never let her go. Allowing herself that momentary lapse in reason, she gathered her hair that had tangled around them both in her hands and tugged it free.

  ‘No,’ she said, easing herself away from him. ‘My thanks for catching me.’

  ‘Mayhap you have walked enough for today?’

  Rob poured ale in two cups this time and handed one to her. Lilidh sat on the chair and sipped from the cup. Her thoughts were clear now, more so than they had been these last days and she wanted to know so much about what was going on and how this all had come to pass. Did she dare ask? She waited until he had approached the table covered in letters and documents before trying.

  ‘So, you still have not told me what this is all about, Rob.’ She sipped once more and dared a look at him. ‘And why me? Why now?’

  That needy, wistful part of her that wanted him to declare his undying love and that this was all just to get her back pushed its way to the surface of her feelings, leaving her more vulnerable than she’d felt in a long time. And considering that the man before her had

  cruelly disavowed her the last time they’d met, that revealed much to her. He took in and released a deep breath, but the tiny twitch of his left brow gave him away before the lie left his lips.

  Much as it had all those years ago.

  Before his words tore her world and heart apart.

  ‘We are a poor clan and need the gold your father will pay for your safe return.’

  ‘And from the MacGregors, as well, since you thought me still married to Iain?’ she asked, probing for the truth. A flash of sympathy and pity crossed his gaze and then it was gone. For her? For her loss? She knew not.

  ‘Both are prosperous, so, yes,’ he answered, the twitch giving away his reply before he spoke. Did he even realise he did that? Gave himself away so clearly? Or had no one other than she recognised it? Most likely no one paid as much attention to his face and expressions as she had during their time together.

  ‘Do you think my father will pay for my release?’

  This was the pivotal question, for Lilidh understood exactly where she stood in her father’s regard and what he must do against this insult. And paying for her return was not what he would do. Did Rob remember what he’d learned from the Beast of the Highlands from his fostering years in her family?

  When silence was the only thing that hung in the space between them, she knew he did remember how her father responded to insults or threats. Lilidh drank down the rest of the ale and placed the cup back on the small table. The exhaustion of the day and the toll of the last several weighed down on her then. There was one more question she must ask.

  ‘What is to become of me here, Rob?’ She was going to add ‘before my father arrives’, but did not. He began to say something and stopped, then once more. Finally he spoke.

  ‘You are under my protection now,’ he replied.

  ‘And what must I do to keep that protection?’

  Once again, he paused and then tried to say several things at the same time. ‘I have said it, so it continues until—’

  ‘Do I work in the kitchens on the morrow?’ she asked. She could never resist poking at him or her brother.

  ‘I think that is best.’ Ah, an answer. Her leg would not be able to manage those stairs day after day. If that was going to be her fate here, then she really must throw herself on his mercy.

  ‘If I am to work there, is there a place on the lower floor where you can hold me prisoner? I cannot...’ Her hand slipped down to touch her thigh where the most damage had been done.

  ‘No. You sleep here.’ She was startled at the intensity of his tone. So that would be the way of it. He did intend to bed her and was just waiting for a time to do so.

  Perhaps now would be that time? She swallowed her fear and nodded. It was hard enough for her to bring up her maimed leg and ask for an accommodation due to it, but she would not raise the subject again with him.

  Not certain if she should move or if he would, she waited for his orders. She did not plan to allow him to do this without a struggle, for more than her honour would be in shambles if he did. She knew him, had watched him grow into the man he was now, and in spite of the miserable way in which he had tossed her aside before, there was honour at his core. Taking her against her will would tear him apart. Regardless if it was for the good of his clan or to prove something to his cousin.

  It would tear him apart.

  She raised her chin and closed her eyes. If she had to fight him off to keep them both intact, she would. But Lilidh prayed it would not come to that.

  ‘Go to bed!’ he barked out in a brusque tone.

  She jumped even though she tried not to. Rob filled another cup with ale and turned away from her. When his attentions were elsewhere, she limped over to the bed and climbed up on top of it.

  ‘Lilidh,’ he said softly. The devil come to call? She met his gaze and waited on him. ‘Get undressed. Take your rest without worry this night.’

  Another reprieve? Would he sleep in the same bed and not touch her? Her body ached. Her head ached. Every part of her screamed out in complaint, so she decided to take him at his word. She loosened the gown and pulled it over her head. The stockings remained in place mostly because her feet were chilled. The shift for obvious reasons. Tugging the thick bedcovers free, she climbed in under them and settled on one of the fluffy pillows. By the time her head touched that pillow, sleep was overtaking her.

  A fine defence she would raise if Rob did indeed try anything. Would sleep ward him off one more time?

  * * *

  The birds of morning sung her from her sleep. Sunlight poured through the window high up on the wall of Rob’s chamber.

  Rob’s chamber?

  Rob?

  Lilidh opened her eyes and found the bed empty save for her. Although an imprint dented the pillow next to the one where she’d slept, the bed’s surface was cool to her touch. If Rob had slept next to her, he was long gone.

  Pushing her hair away from her face, she slid up against the headboard of the bed and glanced around the chamber. From the amount of sun and the angle of the light, she guessed it must be nigh to mid-morn. And she was still in bed?

  A tray holding a small pot and a wrapped bundle sat next to her on the table. Touching the pot, Lilidh found it yet warm, though not hot. Unwilling to leave the snug cocoon of bedcovers and also reluctant to allow the food and drink to go to waste, she decided to remain where she was until summoned once more into the fray. Or to the kitchens, whichever happened first.

  The betony tea warmed and soothed her as it had before and the bread and cheese filled her belly. Soon, she grew restless sitting in the bed, so she slid out and stood while her leg became accustomed to standing. A clean, though plain, gown and a clean shift lay on the chair waiting for her. Dressing quickly, Lilidh found herself with nothing to do and nowhere to go.

  Footsteps down the long corridor drew her attention. From the sound, she thought it might be Beathas. When the door opened, it was the old woman who entered, carrying a basket on her arm.

  ‘You look better this morn, dearie,’ she said with a smile. ‘Let me have a look at your head.’

  She pointed at the chair, so Lilidh sat and let her examine the lump that felt less swollen now than yesterday. And each touch felt less sharp than it had even the night before. A good sign, she hoped.

  ‘Does your head still ache?�
�� Beathas asked her.

  ‘Not so much this morn.’ A few moments later, the examination was done.

  ‘How are the bruises?’ The old woman’s gaze softened as it fell on her neck and face.

  Lilidh shrugged. As long as she did not press or explore them, she did not feel them. ‘’Tis well.’

  A niggling feeling that Beathas thought Rob responsible for something more than he was bothered her again. The harsh treatment of Symon and his men caused the bruises—Beathas must know that because she saw to her needs from the first. But the woman’s sympathy spoke of something else.

  Desperate to divert Beathas’s attention to the matter, she stammered out a question instead.

  ‘Why was I not summoned to the kitchens this morn? It must be quickly approaching midday,’ she said, accepting the brush from Beathas and beginning to tame the unruly curls on her head now that the dressing had been removed.

  ‘The laird has given new orders,’ she began. ‘You are to remain here after all.’

  ‘He has? I am?’ Rob had seemed resolute last night, and now?

  ‘Aye. You are to stay in this chamber and the corridor. He said you can walk the length of it if need be,’ Beathas explained. The woman watched her closely as she explained Rob’s new commands about her. Did she think him trying to assuage the guilt from other actions by being kinder now?

  ‘Did anyone argue with him when he ordered this change?’ she asked. Surely Symon and his sister would.

  ‘Did not listen to them,’ she said with a chuckle. ‘He brushed their words aside and said there were too many ways for you to escape through the kitchens. Safer to keep you in here, where no one could get to you and you could no’ get far.’

  With her leg as it was, she could not get down the steps to escape. Hmmm. She had not thought about escape possibilities from the kitchen when she’d been there. She needed to use her mind and keep an eye open for such opportunities. It would take some time for her father to plan his attack and she needed to use that to discover whatever she could about the Mathesons’ strengths and weaknesses. She knew he would try to negotiate first because she was being held.