The Highlander’s Passion (Iron 0f The Highlands Series Book 3)

by Emilia Ferguson

  “Sir! That is enough.”

  Seonaid looked around at Everett, shock in every line of her face. Everett, who had surprised himself with his anger, looked at the captain. He was staring at him with an expression of rage.

  “Get out of my house!” He hissed.

  Everett glanced at Seonaid, who took his hand and led him to the door.

  “We should go,” she whispered.

  “I don’t want to take you into danger,” Everett said softly. His heart was weeping inside, for he could see how hurt Seonaid was. He looked out into the dark street, where the mist was already gathering, though it must be not much later than midday.

  “I want to leave,” Seonaid whispered softly. She was weeping and Everett felt rage rise in him, and an irrepressible urge to run back inside and choke her father’s skinny neck. He breathed to fight down his rage.

  “Well, let’s go,” he said softly.

  They crossed the threshold and went out into the street.

  Everett knew that Seonaid was crying, and he also knew that there was little he could do. She had every right to be sad! He wasn’t about to tell her not to be. He took her hand and they walked together down the street.

  “What shall we do?” she whispered, sniffing. “Should we go back to Edinburgh?”

  Everett looked down into her eyes. He knew she was trying to be brave. Yet what could he say?

  “I don’t know, lass. We can go wherever you want to.”

  She sniffed. “Let’s go there? Mayhap Murray can find us some sort of employment, some means to make a living. I can sew – not too well, just for mending. Mayhap I can get work as a mender. And you?”

  He chuckled. “I’ll try anything, lass.”

  She smiled up at him and stroked a stray hair back from his forehead. “Well, then,” she said. “We should make our plans.”

  They headed down to the docks. It was early afternoon, and the mist had come down. Everett looked about, seeing the way some of the public houses had lighted lanterns outside to alert customers, the mist making big globes of yellow haziness around the lights.

  “Shall we find a place to take luncheon?” he asked. He didn’t know if she had any money – he knew he didn’t. He instantly regretted the offer, for he could not pay.

  “I don’t think we can,” she said. She looked up at him and, in that moment, he felt the first sense of actual despair.

  “Come on, lass,” he said gently, feeling helpless. “We can find an inn, and wash their dishes for them in exchange for a bite of lunch. It’s not like we can’t work, and there’s always something as needs doing.”

  He heard her sniff, and was about to say something more tender, when he caught sight of someone. His body went stiff and his legs locked, halfway between staying where he was, and running.

  Lachlan, the man from the barge and, later, from the street, and he'd seen them too.

  “Hey!”

  As he ran at them, Everett noticed that he was not alone. Half a dozen angry looking sailors followed him, and one of them wielded a staff. He knew he would never be able to fight them here, on the docks – and if someone ran to call the garrison, then he, as the stranger in town, would be the one to be blamed.

  He took Seonaid’s wrist in his hand and, together, they started to run.

  “Where can we go?” she panted, struggling to keep up with him.

  “I don’t…know…” he gasped. “Mayhap the merchant’s house?” he was thinking of Captain Grady. That was the only friendly house he knew. Strange in temperament or not, Miss Grady was the only person in this town who had been nothing but friendly.

  “We might have to!” Seonaid gasped.

  They ran up the street, turned down the alley and into the wider expanse where the fine houses stood. Everett felt his lungs burning and his legs aching and he could hear townsfolk shouting at the men who chased them. Some were condemning them, while others, it seemed, were joining in.

  “Here!” Seonaid screamed, and she ran at the door, striking it with her fists.

  Everett ran to join her. “Hello?” he called. “Hello?”

  “Open…please…” Seonaid was whispering. She was clearly frightened, and with good reason – the mob had grown and was rounding the corner. He beat on the door with his fists. At that moment, it opened a crack and he almost fell over.

  “Well? What is it?” Linnet asked them.

  “Please! Help us!” Seonaid said.

  Linnet frowned, opening the door, as if she was wondering what all the shouting was about. Then she saw the crowd and her manner changed utterly.

  “Come on inside,” she said. She stood back and Everett waited until Seonaid had slipped in first, then followed her. The door slammed, just as the mob started to beat on it.

  “Let us in!” a voice yelled. “We’re here to do justice.”

  Seonaid was sitting at the kitchen table. She was white in the face and a tear ran down her face, soundlessly. Everett felt his heart twist in pain and wished he could do something – anything – to erase or lessen the full weight of suffering that had fallen on her so recently.

  “Seonaid…” he whispered.

  “They won’t leave us alone,” she whispered.

  “The master will hear them,” the maid said firmly. She sounded quite satisfied. Everett frowned, wondering where he was, and what he might do.

  “Let us in!” a voice shouted, and the pounding got louder. Everett glanced at the kitchen door, but it was thick and the bolt across it seemed quite strong. He turned back to Linnet.

  “Do you think we…”

  “Wait,” Linnet said, lifting a slim hand.

  At that moment a crack sounded from upstairs, as of a shutter banging into a wall, thrown open with force. Another, lesser explosion followed it. A voice roared.

  “Get away from here! Or, by gumption, I’ll set the lot of ye afire, so I will.”

  Everett stared. Linnet smiled.

  “Master’s been home since yesterday.”

  Everett shivered. If that was Captain Grady, he was quite pleased that he’d never met him or even seen him before. He pitied, for a moment, the sailors who set forth on the high seas with such a person! His voice was like a hunting-horn, and he clearly had a sense of his own unchallenged right of command.

  The crowd abruptly went quiet. The banging on the door ceased utterly. Everett heard some mutterings, but everybody was largely silent. He tensed, waiting for the next utterance.

  “What do you lot think you’re about, assaulting my home?”

  “There’s a criminal in there!” somebody offered. “Fleeing the law.”

  “It’s not a criminal,” another person in the crowd yelled derisively. “It’s a feller with a demon in him. We have tae take him to the priests.”

  “Don’t be daft!” somebody else contradicted him. “It’s a deserter.”

  “Why are you here?” the voice said sternly. “You don’t even know what you’re doing. Do you?”

  More muttering. Everett could sense that the crowd felt silly. He would have smiled, except for the fact that the man’s authority was all that was standing between them here and that mob outside. They would have the door broken down in no time, if they honestly wanted to get in.

  “We were pursuing an enemy of our captain’s,” a voice finally shouted. Everett guessed it must be one of the gang who had attacked them, at least once. He wondered idly which it was.

  “You scalawags!” a townsperson shouted. “Ye said ye were after a criminal!”

  “Who do ye think ye are, taking the law in your own two hands?”

  The crowd hovered on the brink of a riot, only, this time, they would not be the targets of it. Everett felt, for the first time, some actual relief.

  Seonaid looked calmer, though she was deathly pale. He tried to smile at her, but knew it was going to look ghastly, so he simply nodded, and looked out of the window. He waited, while the crowd fell again to silence.

  “If any man here
lingers past the count of five, I will ensure that he is arrested by the garrison for trespassing,” the sea captain said firmly. The crowd was quiet.

  As Everett listened, he heard the sound of booted feet on the cobbles. The crowd was dispersing. He held his breath, waiting for them to go. Opposite him, at the table, Seonaid was clearly holding her breath.

  The crowd broke up. Everett was almost too nervous to move, lest any motion at the windows downstairs cause them to come back. After a long wait, Linnet coughed.

  “They’ve gone – or so I reckon.”

  Everett frowned. “I’ll check.”

  “No…” Seonaid held up a hand to stop him, but he smiled reassuringly and went to the window to peer through the curtain. He saw no crowd. If there was still somebody on the doorstep, he couldn’t have seen them from this window, but, as far as he knew, the street was now empty.

  “They’re gone.”

  “Whew,” Linnet let out a slow breath. “Fine thing my master had such a fine wind! He was back a day earlier than planned.”

  Everett stared at her in horror. Seonaid was looking at him too. They looked at each other.

  “I couldn’t be more grateful,” Everett murmured. “We should thank your master.”

  “Och, not tae worry,” Linnet chuckled. “He’d have got rid of that lot anyway. He can’t abide mobs. Against order, see?”

  Everett surprised himself by chuckling weakly. He felt the way Seonaid must have earlier – he was so tired, and so tense, that everything seemed funny. He leaned over and rested a hand on the table beside hers.

  “Are you alright, lass?”

  She smiled, though her eyes were sad. “I suppose I am,” she murmured softly.

  He nodded. “Well, then. Should we stay here for the night? If you reckon the master would not mind?” he inquired of Linnet.

  She chuckled. “Well, if Miss Grady said it were alright, then I reckon you’re welcome. The attic room’s empty.”

  Everett felt his heart fill with relief. He smiled at Seonaid, who squeezed his hand.

  “We are both grateful to your house,” Seonaid murmured to Linnet. Linnet just grinned.

  “Och, lass. You’ve helped many in need, and so have we. Need’s not the sort of thing that comes around every day, nor does it have tae stay for long. The more we help each other, the faster it goes away.”

  “Thank you,” Seonaid murmured.

  Everett nodded. “That’s true.”

  “It is!” Linnet giggled, as if that was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “Now, get ye back up to the attic room. I’ll call ye if the master or the mistress wish tae see you.”

  Everett nodded. It was early afternoon, but already he felt impossibly weary. He could see that Seonaid felt exactly the same way. He stood and walked beside her so that she could lean on him and together they made their way upstairs.

  “Everett,” Seonaid whispered. She sat down on the bed, unfastening her boots. “I…why did that happen?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know, lass,” he said wearily. “All I know is that we have to do something about that fellow, and fast.”

  “I know.”

  She lay down and Everett knew it was not Alec’s betrayal that upset her. However, what could he say? He could hear her crying and he put an arm about her shoulders and she lay there while he wished he could do or say something to make it right.

  “Everett,” she whispered, rolling over to bury her face in his neck. “Oh, lad.”

  He smiled and bent to kiss her. His lips clung to hers and he felt their touch shudder through him and he rolled onto one elbow, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close.

  She sighed and moved closer and he gently ran his hands down her back, finding and unfastening the buttons of her dress. She gasped and started to move her hips against his, and he felt his longing for her increase. He unfastened her dress and then stood to remove his shirt, wincing as his arms went over his head. The motion made the wounds pull open.

  “Are you too hurt for this?” Seonaid whispered concernedly.

  He chuckled a little shakily. “No, lass,” he said. “I think for this, I might find any pain I have will quite slip my mind.”

  She laughed and cupped his face in her palm, leaning forward to kiss him. He could feel excitement rushing through his body and he wanted her as he had never wanted anything.

  As he entered her and she gasped, he knew that, no matter what happened, he could never be happier. She was crying when they lay together, both exhausted, but she was also smiling, and he felt, for the first time that day, himself relax.

  A CHALLENGE

  Seonaid rolled over in bed the next morning, stiff and sore. She smiled as she heard Everett’s breath beside her. She stroked his hair and opened her eyes, looking at his fine profile outlined against the gray light that seeped in through the shutters over the windows.

  “Lad,” she whispered.

  He stirred, and she regretted having woken him. He needed sleep too. They were both exhausted. He stretched, yawned and sat up.

  “What time is it?” he said, smiling down at her. His eyes were confused, and she smiled back.

  “It’s morning.”

  “What? No!”

  She giggled. “It is, too. We must have slept for hours.”

  “I really was tired,” Everett admitted. She watched as he slipped out of bed and went to the window, watching his body as he walked the small distance, admiring how lithe and muscled it was.

  “Is it early?” she whispered.

  “Very,” he whispered back. “The mist is still filling the streets.”

  “That’s good,” Seonaid said, sitting up. She winced as her head throbbed and ached, and she leaned against the wall a moment, to catch her breath. She really was exhausted.

  “What should we do?” Everett asked.

  Seonaid kept her eyes closed. It was the one question she desperately didn’t want to address. Not yet, and preferably not ever. Though she also knew they had to. She didn’t want to stay here and live off Captain Grady’s good will. She also knew that, the moment they set foot outside the door, they were inciting another attack by the group loyal to Alec.

  “We have to find him.”

  “Alec Westford?” Everett asked.

  “Aye. Him.” Seonaid stayed where she was, eyes closed, leaning on the wall. She was too tired to do anything else. Her head hurt and even thinking of standing, of leaving this place, was a drain on her dwindling energy.

  “Well, then,” Everett said cheerfully. “That is what we must do.”

  “Oh, lad.” Seonaid sighed. Part of her could wish that he was less capable, less cheery. She would have liked it if, just once, he seemed to consider everything as seriously as she did herself. All the same, however, for the moment his cheeriness would help. She nodded. “Let’s go downstairs?”

  “If you like,” he shrugged. “Can I help?”

  “I’m fine,” she said a little touchily, as she managed to get to her feet. She stood where she was, eyes closed, while the pounding in her head wore off somewhat. Then she reached for her dress and shift, shrugging the shift on over her.

  She could hear Everett dressing and she watched him, wishing she could help him sometimes – his wounds were clearly hurting him.

  Pale-faced and smiling, he turned to her.

  “Shall we go down?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  They went down into the kitchen. The place was silent, seemingly deserted. Seonaid went to the hearth, which was still warm. She reached for the pokers and set about building up a fire. Everett was clearing away dishes – she could hear the water in the copper sink as he sluiced them down with a bucket drawn from the well and left there for that purpose.

  “We should try to get to the docks,” she murmured. She blew on the fire, watching with excitement as the flame caught and flared. Making a fire was always a pleasant experience for her. “We need to get straight on a barge. This tim
e, we can arrange for them to seek payment with Murray.”

  “Good idea,” Everett murmured. He was still washing the dishes, and again she found that his self-possessed attitude confused her. She felt frustrated by it, though she knew it was unfair. She wondered if his friendship with Miss Grady had upset her, but thought that was ridiculous.

  He loves me and he always says it. He hardly knows her!

  She finished stoking the fire and stood, resting against the wall.

  “We need to move on,” she repeated. “I don’t feel right, staying and taking advantage of these people.”

  “We’re not taking advantage,” he said lightly. “But, I do agree,” he added, seeing her serious look.

  “We’ll have to eat breakfast here,” she agreed, realizing that the dreadful ache in her head was probably mainly due to hunger. “But then we’ll be on our own way.”

  “I agree.”

  Silently, they prepared breakfast together. It was a strange feeling, Seonaid thought – the first time they had actually done something like this together before. She found herself enjoying it.

  “I found some cheese,” Everett said. “And onions.”

  “I found bread.”

  They sat in the small kitchen and ate together.

  “We can try to get back to my home,” Everett said slowly. He was eating a big slice of bread and he set it down by the plate, frowning at her.

  “In the Highlands?” she asked. He nodded.

  “Aye. It’s a small clan, and my family are, well…my father has passed away.” He looked upset.

  “I see.” She reached over to touch his hand, in commiseration. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  He shrugged awkwardly. “Don’t be.” He frowned at her. “That was why I was so against Baliol,” he said. “I was…well…I felt it was the fault of the new regime, that my father died.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Seonaid whispered again. “I had no idea. That first day…”

  “You were right, to call me a rabble rouser.” He chuckled. “You saved my life. I was lucky you were there.”

  She laughed. “Well, it was quite a sight to see,” she agreed. “And you were causing more than enough trouble for one person. But I’m glad you were. Or I’d not have met you that day.”