Terri Brisbin Highlander Bundle

by TERRI BRISBIN

  Chapter Twelve

  Lilidh woke with a start and discovered herself in Rob’s bed again. Looking around the chamber, she found him gone, along with the documents and the large trunk that held more of them. She fell back on the pillow and tried not to think of how she’d humiliated herself last night.

  The blood of a harlot must run in her veins from some long-ago, long-forgotten ancestor. At least that would explain the shameful display that had happened to her in Rob’s bed, with him listening and watching. His nearness, her injuries and isolation and whatever else excuse she could draw on would be her defence. But it was her heart that was the real reason for her lapse in behaviour and her loss of control.

  She had been so caught up in the memories that she never realised he was watching or that she’d said something aloud until she opened her eyes and saw him staring at her. Even now her cheeks burned as she remembered the look in his eyes at that moment.

  It was the same one that she had seen there all those years ago when he had introduced her to the intensity that could be between them.

  The night before he renounced her before her family because of the imperfection of her maimed leg. The night when she had thought her dreams of marrying the man she loved would come true. The night before she lost her innocence when she wanted to lose her virtue.

  Well, this self-pity and embarrassment would get her nowhere this morn, so she pushed the covers back and dressed. She expected Beathas and Siusan would be arriving shortly. So, when the door opened, she turned from straightening the bed to greet one or the other.

  Rob stood in the sin-revealing light of day and watched as she smoothed the bedcovers in place.

  Words fled as she tried to think of what to say to him this morn, when the memories of their passion and his betrayal and her body’s scandalous reactions were all very fresh in her mind. So she waited for him to speak instead.

  ‘We are moving to another chamber,’ he said, as he walked to one of his trunks and opened it. Searching inside for something and not finding it, he moved to the next one and repeated his actions. ‘The last chamber on the left,’ he said, now searching through several leather sacks.

  He stared in her direction and when she nodded her understanding of his directions, he continued. ‘You cannot walk in the corridor any longer. Many from the outlying villages are moving into the keep for protection and the elders will be using these rooms.’

  ‘You have heard back from my father, then?’ she finally asked.

  ‘The messenger said he received my demands and is sending his reply,’ Rob said.

  A shiver made her body tremble. They both knew what that meant—and it wasn’t that gold was on the way. Lilidh knew that gave them at least week, but not much more than that.

  ‘What should I do?’ she asked, waving her hand towards the trunks and furnishings in his chamber.

  ‘Stay out of the way until you’re told to move down the corridor.’

  And with that one command, he was gone.

  * * *

  It did not take long for the servants, and guards, to arrive to move Rob’s belongings. She remained in the chair, watching them, until the guard named Tomas ordered her to come along. Lilidh was almost to the last chamber near the stairs to the battlements when the door to the room next to it opened and Lady Tyra stepped out.

  Tyra examined her from head to toe and her expression turned to one of disgust, as though she’d stepped her precious new slipper into something the horses dropped behind them. Part of her could understand the lady’s anger now that she understood Tyra’s relationship to Rob, but she should know that Lilidh had little or no control over her stay here.

  ‘Is this your chamber, Lady Tyra?’ Lilidh asked. The lady’s gasp drew the attention of everyone in the now-busy corridor.

  ‘Do not speak to me, you harlot!’ she replied. The slap—though with her hand closed in a fist, it felt more like a punch—that accompanied the insult was the surprise. ‘You may warm his bed and see to his baser needs, but do not think yourself worthy to speak to me.’

  Lilidh recoiled from the blow and touched her cheek. She felt Tomas at her back, but pushed away from him. Truth be told, Lilidh had a higher standing as the daughter of an earl and laird than Tyra did. She should be glad that Lilidh deigned to speak to her!

  ‘Guard! Get her out of my sight!’ Tyra called out. Tomas moved forwards, taking Lilidh by the arm and leading her away.

  ‘And worry not, whore,’ Tyra whispered so only

  Lilidh could hear. ‘Your days in his bed are numbered.’

  The venom in her voice sent shards of ice and fire and terror through Lilidh. When Lilidh turned back to look at her face as Tomas dragged her the few paces to Rob’s new chambers, Tyra’s expression was blank. If one was just looking at her now, it would be impossible to believe the ugly words and tone she’d just spoken in to Lilidh. Tomas pushed her inside and closed the door, leaving her alone. Had she imagined the hatred and danger in the woman’s words? Somehow she thought not.

  Looking around her new quarters, she found a chamber twice the size of Rob’s previous one. More of a surprise was the small cot in one corner, not far from the huge rope-strung bed that dominated the entire room. This one was much more like the one her parents shared—large enough for two and his business as laird, yet made more comfortable by small personal touches.

  Rob’s father’s?

  Seeing a basin and a bucket of water, she dipped a cloth in the water and placed it on her face, allowing the coolness to soothe the place where Tyra had struck her. Then she stayed out of the way while the servants completed the move of Rob’s belongings here. And hers, it seemed, since one of her trunks also appeared with the others. When had that been retrieved?

  Unable and unwilling to sit idly by while the servants worked to organise the chambers according to Rob’s preferences, she found the basket of garments to be repaired, gathered some threads and a needle and sat working. She did not miss the gossip that the women especially began whispering as they worked. Lilidh kept her head down as though she did not hear them, letting them sink back into the invisibility in which servants usually existed.

  Lilidh discovered several interesting things from the servants over the hour or so that they worked there.

  This had, indeed, been Rob’s father’s chamber when he was alive and Rob had refused to use it until now.

  Rob’s cousin Symon had kidnapped her without Rob’s consent.

  The last thing was the worst—they all expected to be dead once her father arrived.

  Having the reputation that her father had and having earned most of it was a distinct advantage in war. Lilidh understood that. But to hear these people speak of their deaths so openly was horrible. Her father did not simply put innocents to death—his enemy in this would suffer, not them. For now, she chose not to correct their mis-assumptions, for they were a distinct advantage for her father and hopefully would bring this all to a peaceful close.

  And then she would be returned to her parents to be given away again, leaving the only man she had ever loved behind once more. In spite of the horror at his earlier actions and the desperate anger and dejection at his disavowal, she could not deny that she had loved him and only him so far in her life.

  If she was the cause of the breach between her father and him, and considering this latest insult in kidnapping her, she and Rob would have no possible chance now. His only choice was to expose and disavow Symon’s actions as that of a renegade and turn him over to the MacLeries for their punishment and she understood that Rob would never do that. He was trying to be a good leader to his clan—as good a laird as he thought her father and his had been.

  Once the servants had left and Siusan had brought her more sewing to do, she thought about the letter once more. Maybe Rob would find one of the elders who knew more about it? This day passed slowly, the noisiness outside increased from the number of people using the chambers nearby and she wondered what her father would
indeed do about her.

  * * *

  ‘What happened before this letter, Murtagh?’ Rob asked.

  Though he would rather speak to one of the other

  elders, one who supported him, it turned out that Murtagh might be the only one who knew what had been going on those months ago. Now, after trying to evade speaking with him in private, the man shrugged.

  ‘I know you think Symon should be laird and I have no problem with you having your own opinion. But I am laird now and there is a war coming to our gates. I need to know what brought that war to us.’

  Rob held out a mug to the man and poured a good measure of whisky into both. Then he took the letter from the table and gave it to the counsellor. Murtagh was educated—he could read and write and even understood Latin—so Rob waited while he read it. The surprise in his eyes told Rob much.

  His suspicions were correct. But he pushed now for the truth. ‘Who made the first contact with the

  MacKenzies?’

  ‘Well, I hate to be one to tell tales...’ Murtagh began. He paused for a mouthful of the whisky before continuing. Rob filled his cup again for good measure. ‘Your da was not happy with the way the MacLerie treated you.’

  Now that was a surprise. He thought that Angus and Connor remained friends until the end.

  ‘When that...’ Murtagh pointed and rolled his finger in the air ‘...business with the lass happened, Angus took your side. Said to wait for your explanation. That there was more to this than youthful stupidity.’

  Though his father’s reaction surprised him, it did nothing to explain the more recent changes.

  ‘That is old history. More than four years ago. He remarried since then and expected an heir. Why did my father look to the MacKenzies?’

  ‘Well, that...’ Murtagh drank a large portion of his whisky and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Symon’s stepda had MacKenzie ties. He thought an alliance with them would be better for us than with the MacLeries. A possible marriage was mentioned.’

  Marriage? His other half-sisters from Angus’s previous marriage were yet too young to enter into negotiations now. His own attempt with the MacLerie heiress had ended in spectacular failure and he’d be no target for the MacKenzies. Could it be? ‘Symon?’

  ‘Nay, not the boy.’ Murtagh shook his head. ‘Tyra.’

  Tyra? His now-betrothed? ‘This letter and the others do not mention that at all.’

  ‘A private arrangement, I think. First her marriage, then a stronger bond through the treaty.’

  So, a gradual moving away from the MacLerie alliance to one with the MacKenzies, then? Yet neither Symon nor Tyra objected when the elders suggested instead that Rob and Tyra be joined to end the fighting between the two branches of the family.

  ‘Did my father know of those plans? To marry her into the MacKenzies?’

  ‘Symon’s stepda talked with him about it more than a year ago, before both of their deaths. Your father did not object. Though he had hopes that Tyra would marry the MacLerie lad or Symon would wed one of Connor’s kin.’

  Kin or his daughter? Rob wondered.

  Kidnapping was a time-honoured tradition and a means to a bride that might otherwise be out of a man’s reach. Is that why Symon had kidnapped Lilidh? Once he’d taken her, did he mean to keep her? Maybe he’d thought that since Rob had rejected her once, she was available to him?

  But no one here knew about Iain’s death, so taking a married woman did nothing but infuriate her kin and her husband. Or had Symon known?

  Rob’s head spun with all the possible connections that Murtagh’s words had uncovered. Like a spider’s web woven across clans, each strand connected others that branched out endlessly. Who knew what when? Who wanted which clan? Why? None of that mattered in a way since in each of them was Connor’s and Angus’s belief that any link between their clans or with the MacKenzies would not involve the bastard son.

  And, even worse, Rob becoming laird and chief had mucked things up and interfered with many plans. He had much to think about before Connor arrived at his gates, but even more to do before that happened.

  ‘My thanks, Murtagh,’ he said, slapping the man on the shoulder. ‘I hope I can earn your support in the coming weeks.’

  The older man blinked several times at Rob’s admission, probably not expecting to have his support requested rather than demanded. They parted then and Rob went to check on Dougal’s arrangements for weapons and arrows. He prayed to God they wouldn’t need them, but better to be prepared than to be found empty-handed.

  * * *

  By the time night had fallen, Rob believed them almost ready to deal with the MacLeries who would arrive soon. Sentries had been posted at the edges of their lands to report any sightings of anyone not invited to be there.

  He had hesitated in contacting the MacKenzie laird, hoping that he and Connor could come to terms and end this peaceably. Then, with Lilidh safely returned to her parents and his clan safe from annihilation, he could decide over the future alliances that would benefit and protect his people. The fewer who were involved the better, he thought as he sat down at table for the evening meal.

  Each day his hall seemed smaller as more and more from the outlying farms and the village took refuge from the coming storm there. The meals grew plainer, which suited him, though not his betrothed. Tyra wore a strange, rather self-pleased look upon her face and it gave him pause. He was growing more and more suspicious about her and her brother’s roles in the débâcle he faced.

  ‘How do you fare, Tyra?’ he asked, after being served his food. He could not accuse her or Symon of anything. Yet.

  ‘I am well,’ she said with a smile. A smile that made his gut tighten with its sweetness.

  ‘Has Symon returned yet?’ he asked, glancing at the empty place next to her.

  ‘I do not keep track of my brother’s comings and goings,’ she replied. He watched her face, but she gave no indication that there was another meaning or that she lied. ‘Surely he carries out the duties you have assigned him, Rob.’

  Rob could not resist testing her now that he was aware of other possible arrangements she’d been privy to. He took her hand in his and smiled at her.

  ‘Once the MacLerie has his daughter back and our alliance with the MacKenzies is settled, we should set a wedding date, Tyra.’

  If he had glanced away, he would never have seen the brittle way her smile broke or the narrowing of her gaze at his words. But see them he did, so her words—when they came—had a different meaning than they would have had he not been watching her.

  ‘It would please me to have things settled between us, Rob.’

  There was much more going on here in the house of the Mathesons than he had ever imagined. But he needed to understand it before Connor got here.

  * * *

  The rest of the meal passed quickly. The crowded hall and heightened tension and noise had bothered Tyra, so she had asked for his leave to seek her chambers quickly. Though he suspected she did not want to risk having to speak to him about their marriage, his testing complete, he had waved his permission.

  After making one more inspection of the gates and the guards posted, Rob made his way up the stairs to his chambers. He forgot for a moment about moving to another chamber and only the sight of the guards in front of his father’s room reminded him.

  His father’s room.

  Once named laird, he’d refused to move into the rooms his father had used. Thinking back now, he could not say if it was some kind of continued rebellion or that he could not accept his own worthiness to be there. Or, had he just honoured his father and did not want to live in his place?

  Since others now stayed in these chambers, the guards would remain. They would patrol the corridor and the stairs from now on for any signs of trouble and to keep Lilidh safe if there was any.

  ‘Laird,’ Tomas said as he approached. ‘A word before you go in.’ The guard was about the same age and build as he was and they’d be
en friends for years. The frown that darkened his face warned Rob of something bad.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Lady Tyra was here.’

  ‘In my chambers?’ he asked.

  ‘Nay, but she was here in one of the other rooms when Lady MacGregor was moved.’

  This was not good. ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘They exchanged words and Lady Tyra slapped—’

  Rob did not wait for the rest of his words, he pushed open the door and found her sitting in a chair much like the one that had been in his chambers. Her head was bowed as she scrutinised the garment she sewed. He was not quiet, charging into the room as he had, so she knew he was there.

  ‘Lilidh.’ She did not react at all, continuing to push that needle through the fabric and out again. ‘Lilidh, look at me?’

  Chapter Thirteen

  She let out a sigh and put her hands down on her lap, the clothing lay across her legs. Then Lilidh turned her face and met his gaze. Her fair skin hid nothing and the darkening injury marred her cheek. Bruising had already begun around the edges, deep purple seeping through the reddened areas.

  ‘No,’ she said, before he could ask.

  ‘No, I should not do this to her? Or, no, you do not think I will believe the lie when you tell me it does not hurt?’ Rob approached slowly. ‘If your father sees you looking like this, there is no hope for peace.’

  ‘She is your betrothed. She is furious over my being with you.’ She knew the truth about Tyra’s position here—but certainly not the truth of his feelings on the matter.

  ‘You would excuse her for doing this?’

  Rob reached out and moved several loose strands of hair away from Lilidh’s face, revealing the full extent of the welt. Lilidh placed her hand on his and pushed it away as she stood.

  ‘Excuse her? No, I do not excuse her for I believe there is always a way other than force and suffering, Rob. But I understand her reaction in this. Hitting me is about the only thing she can do to show her displeasure at the insult you’ve committed against her honour and her pride.’