Terri Brisbin Highlander Bundle

by TERRI BRISBIN

  So, she would also try to encourage Rob to look for a peaceful way out of this situation for all of them before the MacLeries arrived in force.

  Beathas finished just as Siusan arrived carrying a large basket of clothing and another smaller basket filled with threads and sewing supplies. Lilidh stood to greet her.

  ‘Your work for the day,’ Siusan announced, putting it near the chair on the floor and handing her the smaller basket. If the woman was pleased not to have Lilidh under foot in the kitchens, Lilidh could not tell. Her tone gave no hint of her feelings on the matter.

  ‘What is this?’ she asked, reaching into the basket and pulling out a tunic.

  ‘His lairdship’s laundry, of course. For you to repair.’ Lilidh dropped it back in the basket and looked at

  Siusan. ‘He has no wife and there is no lady in charge of such things yet.’

  ‘Tyra does not oversee this for Rob?’

  ‘Their betrothal is only a recent thing. Mayhap once this is all settled.’

  Betrothal? Rob was betrothed to that woman and never said anything to her? No small wonder that the lady reacted as she had to Lilidh’s presence in the hall. Especially if she believed Rob and Lilidh were lovers. Wives usually had to learn forbearance when it came to other women their husbands chose and, in the case of lairds and chiefs and nobles, those other women could be quite public.

  Still, betrothed to that woman? A topic to discuss with the man who now claimed her as his and not for this servant’s ears.

  ‘From the kitchens to this,’ she said, bringing their conversation back to the task before her. ‘Is he not afraid I’ll sew all the seams shut? Can I be trusted with scissors?’

  ‘Lady Tyra raised those very questions to the laird.’

  She could see the mirth in the older woman’s blue eyes. Oh, to have been a witness to this scene! It would have almost made things funny. Almost. ‘And?’

  ‘She will not be raising those questions again,’ she explained. ‘The laird made it clear what her position in his hall is and what is his.’

  Stunned that he had taken a public stance against Symon and Tyra on this, Lilidh sat down on the chair and lifted the tunic once more. Searching in the smaller basket, she found a matching thread and began to sew the tear along the seam closed. Embroidering and sewing were always a great way to clear her thoughts and her mother had always encouraged her skill in it.

  ‘I will come back later with more,’ Siusan said as she walked to the door. Beathas left at the same time and she listened as they walked away, chatting quietly as they went.

  Well, if nothing else, she would be busy. There must be at least six or seven tunics and trews as well as shirts. It would take her most of the day to finish these, but she did not have to walk down those steps and that was a good thing.

  More importantly, Rob had heard her words and fears about her leg and done something about it. For her. What had happened to make him take her side, especially against his betrothed? Since she did not want to give anyone there a reason to return her to the kitchens,

  Lilidh decided to work on mending the clothes. When her leg began to cramp from sitting too long in one position, she stood and paced the chamber.

  Did he mean for her to be allowed out of the chamber?

  Should she try?

  Making her way over to the door, she lifted the latch and peered out. The two guards on duty immediately blocked the door, preventing her from leaving at all.

  ‘Beathas said I may walk,’ she said, glancing from one to the other. She fully expected them to order her back inside, so when they parted and nodded permission to her, she paused before stepping into the corridor.

  Lilidh worried through the first few paces, but then each one became a bit easier. Each guard walked to the opposite end of the corridor and blocked it so that none could leave or enter from the stairs. Though several times they looked as though they wanted to say something to her, they never did. Not wanting to bring any untoward attentions by remaining there too long, she covered the length of it four times, counting the paces between one end and the other.

  Counting the paces between the three chambers on one side and two on the other. Counting how many paces it took to reach the stairway. By the time her leg was loose and somewhat comfortable, she had memorised the locations and distances to all the rooms on this floor.

  Her father would be proud.

  When she returned to the bedchamber, Lilidh took some of the thicker threads and tied knots to remember all the calculations she’d made. Then she tucked the threads into her sleeve to keep it safe for when she needed it. For that moment, it felt good to be thinking ahead. To be making a plan.

  * * *

  The next interruption to her work came when a tray was delivered to her as sunset approached. Standing and stretching as a servant she’d seen in the kitchens entered with it, Lilidh waited while the girl put it on the bigger table on the other side of the room. Since Rob had left parchments scattered over its surface, she gathered them into a pile and moved them so as not to damage them.

  Once alone, the documents proved too much temptation for her and she reached for the one on top of the pile and read it.

  Latin was no obstacle for her—she could read in several languages, though not as easily as her cousin Ciara could. Ciara was permitted to work with her father on contracts and such while Lilidh had only been allowed to watch silently during some sessions.

  Watch and learn, lass, her father and uncle instructed.

  So she did, and she had learned much about the workings between clans and about contracts and, more importantly, about men. How they thought. The reasons behind their decisions. Now, looking over this offer of friendship from the MacKenzies, Lilidh understood the difficult place Rob was in.

  The old laird had been approached and given some indication of willingness to switch his allegiance from the MacLeries to the MacKenzies—a move that had far-reaching implications. An alliance between them would shift the balance of power in the west of Scotland and create instability where her father strived for peace. On his terms, certainly, but peace and stability.

  Still, there was nothing except a long-standing relationship to keep the ties strong between the Mathesons and the MacLeries. The old laird’s regard and friendship had resulted in Angus sending his illegitimate son to foster with her family. And that her father accepted Rob spoke of the respect between the two men. Until he had repudiated their love and humiliated her before all.

  And now? How would Rob go? If he had ordered her kidnapping, clearly he was trying to tweak her father’s nose as he left. Worse, he was trying to bring her family into war, for if the MacLeries rose against the Mathesons, the MacKenzies’ offer of support in this letter alone would guarantee their involvement. Had she become the instrument of war to bring down her powerful family and redistribute the power and wealth in the western Highlands?

  Perhaps the other letters and documents held the answer to that critical question. It was as she reached for another missive that she heard the footsteps approaching the door. The heavier step and pace told her it was a man. When she heard the voices outside the door, she knew Rob had returned to his chambers.

  Lifting the tray and carrying it to the bed, she then scattered the documents across the table, hoping Rob would not notice. Going back to the bed, she slid onto it and brought the tray nearer to make it appear as though she’d eaten there and not gone near to the table. When the door opened, she stuffed a piece of bread in her mouth and tried not to look guilty.

  Chapter Ten

  When he’d awoken at dawn’s light, Rob had discovered her tucked against him, but even then, hardly moved from the night before. A man’s presence in her bed did not disturb her rest, even if she did not remember which man it was at her side. Cursing himself for that thought and the resentment it caused within him, Rob carefully peeled himself away from her and climbed from the bed. Certainly she was accustomed to a man at her side—she’d been marr
ied for months. At least until Iain died, whenever that was. Glancing back at her, he noticed that Lilidh did not move.

  Siusan told him she worked without complaint and with little pause through the day. She’d mentioned that Lilidh had some difficulty sitting and gave him a glaring look, but he dismissed it and her without understanding it. The expression was matched throughout the day by others, all from women, and all without further comment. Puzzling, but he had little time to think about that when so many other more important matters lay in his lap.

  He had dressed quickly and left the chamber, giving the guards new instructions. Although he’d not said so, he knew Lilidh’s leg was the reason for her request to be held nearer to the kitchens. But his reaction to her request told him much about himself and his continuing attraction to this woman.

  * * *

  The day passed quickly for him, but if he tried to convince himself that he gave her no thought, Dougal’s smirk told him otherwise. The man was too observant, though he never said a word.

  They rode to the boundaries of their land to check for any sign of intruders. He knew the MacLeries would arrive any day now and wanted as much warning as possible. Rob set more guards along the road to give him that warning. More of the villagers and farmers arrived each day, called in to the keep for safety. Their lands and most livestock would still be in danger, but there was little he could do about that.

  Though he complained all day long, Symon accompanied them, along with several others loyal to Rob. Better to keep him close at hand during these times than discover he’d caused more problems. Symon’s defensive strategies, when Rob finally got him to speak, were good ones, especially for their smaller numbers facing a larger force. His cousin’s surprise when Rob ordered them implemented made him laugh.

  Genuine surprise filled Symon’s gaze when Rob shared the news of Iain MacGregor’s recent death. Was the kidnapping an unplanned event after all? But there’d been no explanation about how Symon knew Lilidh was travelling back to Lairig Dubh.

  When he thought about it, he really did not want to find out that Symon was involved with his father’s death. They’d abided each other as children and young men and Symon had qualities that would make him an effective counsellor—if he could get past his anger and accept Rob as laird and chief. With Dougal overseeing the keep and lands and Symon as the commander of his warriors, Rob could see the Mathesons as a clan to be reckoned with.

  They had many hurdles and obstacles to clear before any of that could happen. Indeed, there was every possibility that he and Dougal and Symon would be dead when all this played out and his clan torn apart and spread across the Highlands.

  Connor had taught him that behind anger was usually fear and that was something few men could admit to having. Was this the basis for Symon’s anger—fear that he would have no place or be forsaken and unnecessary if Rob was chief? Or that his sister would be cast aside?

  Rob had been so eager not to appear the fool, he might have ignored Symon’s suggestions or advice, believing that he must be in charge and come up with the best plans. Now, removed from most of his cronies, Symon spoke more openly and less aggressively than with them. Rob decided to involve his cousin in planning how to deal with the MacLeries.

  By the time they returned to the keep, there was a tentative peace between them and Rob hoped he

  was wrong about Symon’s connection to what had happened to his father and Ailean.

  * * *

  Any rapport between them evaporated as they took dinner in the hall. Any steps to reconciling were lost as Symon’s men and supporters pulled Symon back into the anger. Tyra, whose demeanour had changed as soon as Lilidh arrived, reacted to every mention of her name even though Rob refused to discuss Lilidh with anyone.

  Not that he did not understand how his actions—claiming Lilidh as his before the entire hall—caused her ill temperedness. He did. And if his or her feelings were one bit engaged, he would care. But their betrothal would be one of convenience and for political reasons and not based on personal regard for each other. He knew it. She knew it. And, for now, he could not allow anyone to contradict or overrule him this matter regardless of any arrangements made for the future.

  Dinner had become a battleground once more with brother and sister picking at each other and him with pointed barbs and implied insults. Finally, exercising his power once more, he had ended it by sending Tyra to her chambers before the last food was served.

  Symon had remained only because he had arrangements to discuss with him. After a promising beginning to the day, it had gone to hell faster than he believed possible, leaving him with the nearly irresistible urge to throw both of his cousins from the battlements with millstones, very large millstones, tied around their necks! He would think about the matter of Symon and how to find out his truths later.

  Now, as he approached his chambers, he wondered how Lilidh would be. Was she pleased at the reprieve from the kitchen, or rather the steps, that he ordered this morn? Were his garments in worse shape than before?

  But the biggest question was whether or not she would admit to reading the documents he’d left and would she speak about them?

  ‘Did she eat?’ he asked Tomas.

  ‘Aye, just now.’

  ‘Did she walk?’

  ‘Some. Earlier in the day,’ Tomas replied. ‘She’s been quiet since Beathas and Siusan left her.’

  ‘No questions from her? No requests?’ Her sense of curiosity had amazed him when they were young. ‘Why?’ or ‘how?’ were her most commonly spoken words. If she was feeling better, if her injuries were healing, she would begin asking soon. He hoped she had not lost that trait as she’d grown up and left Lairig Dubh.

  When they shook their heads at him, he dismissed them and lifted the latch on his door. Lilidh slid off the bed and stood, chewing something from the tray of food as she did.

  ‘You look well. How is your head?’ he asked as he dropped his leather sack by the bed and glanced around the room.

  ‘Better,’ she said after she swallowed.

  She looked better—some colour back in her cheeks, not limping or wincing as much as last night. The fire was low and the room growing cool, so he put fresh wood in the hearth and got it back aflame.

  ‘Rob,’ she said softly and his body burned hotter than the hearth did at the sound of it. He stood quickly and turned to find her staring at him.

  ‘Yes?’ he forced out.

  All she needed to do was utter his name in that voice and he lost his mind and almost let loose his self-control. She had haunted his dreams for so long before he finally banished the memories of their times together. And yet, every moment with her, brought them back in ways he could hear and taste and feel.

  ‘I am grateful to you for allowing me to stay here this day,’ she began, twisting her fingers in the fabric of her gown. ‘I know you changed your orders about me in front of your people and how difficult that may make things for you.’

  ‘It is safer this way,’ he answered, trying to keep his tone light and resist the urge to take her in his arms and kiss the very breath from her. ‘You might escape through the kitchens.’

  He watched the corners of her mouth lift and held his breath as her green eyes brightened, releasing the tension in her face and making her look as she did when she was ten-and-six years to his ten-and-eight. They would steal minutes or hours when they could, exploring new feelings and boundaries, until in one, brief, catastrophic moment he had ruined everything and lost her for ever.

  ‘I finished fixing your clothes,’ she said, pointing to a large basket of folded garments by the chair. ‘Since apparently your betrothed does not see to such things for you.’

  Damn! Unable yet to think of Tyra as his betrothed, he’d also failed to mention it to Lilidh. Word travelled quickly, though, and now...

  ‘The elders requested the match, Lilidh. Surely you of all people can understand a political marriage.’

  Her green eyes flashed and
then went blank. She understood. Believing there was nothing else to say on the matter and unable to wait, he asked the question he most wanted to know.

  ‘How long did you hesitate before reading them?’

  A myriad of emotions and reactions passed quickly across her lovely face as she decided what to say. Her expression went to one of innocence. He’d known her too well and for too long to believe her attempt to avoid answering.

  ‘Did you wait until after you’d walked?’

  She spun away from him, placing herself between him and the table. Reaching over, she selected one of the documents and held it out to him. ‘I was so busy with my chores that I only just noticed this.’

  Rob took the letter and read it quickly, identifying exactly what she’d read—the MacKenzies’ final offer of ‘friendship’ to his father before his death. Some of it puzzled him. Some of the reasons to switch allegiances made no sense as though only half the conversation was being heard. What he wanted most right now, after the woman herself, was her reaction to the offer.

  ‘And?’ he prodded.

  She stared at him for a second or two before laughing. The glorious sound of that laughter, in the midst of such a time and place and situation, gladdened his soul that she was here. Regardless of the strange and dangerous circumstances of her being in Keppoch, he was glad of it.

  ‘You did it on purpose, did you not?’ she asked as she continued to watch him intently. ‘You left them all over the table because you wanted me to see these.’ Lilidh crossed her arms over her chest and stared once more.

  ‘Maybe I had no objections to your seeing them?’ He mimicked her stance and raised his brow.

  She released a breath and looked at the documents on the table. Shrugging, she pointed at the one he yet held.

  ‘This was addressed to your father? Before his death?’ He nodded. ‘And it is the first exchange? The first contact?’

  ‘Something is missing, is it not?’ He asked her the question that had bothered him the most.