Highland Angel

by Hannah Howell

  "Mayhap I would want to be the one to have first blood, Wattie."

  "We could toss the dice for it, Gib."

  "Fair enough. He just wants her dead now."

  "Might let us have her first if only because he would like to see that proud, interfering bitch humbled. And I would humble her right and good. Would like to have me a taste of all that fine white skin."

  "Weel, ye have missed your chance, Wattie. We have lost her. Wonder which brat was running with her."

  "Probably that little bastard Callum. Always has been a slippery, vicious lad. Roderick should have broke his skinny, insolent neck years ago. We will look for them for another hour or two."

  "And then what? I think they found a bolt-hole and we will ne'er find it now it be getting dark."

  "Then we will bring out the dogs."

  "Roderick isnae going to be happy we lost her, Wattie,” Gib said as both men started to walk away.

  "Nay, but it doesnae matter. He will be more pleased to ken we found out she is still alive. Now he will ken who is to blame for all the trouble he has been having of late."

  Kirstie wrapped her arms around her stomach as she tensely listened to the men's footsteps fade away. “I think I am going to be ill,” she whispered when it had been quiet for a few minutes.

  "They are swine,” Callum said as he moved to the board covering the hole and cautiously removed it. “Nay worth ye losing what might be in your belly.” He glanced around. “A fine bolt-hole, but it willnae be safe anymore. The dogs will sniff it out. To them, ‘twill fair stink of us."

  "So will Payton's home,” she said as she moved to his side.

  "So will near all this town after tonight. Go on, get out there. They are gone."

  "Ye dinnae think we ought to wait an hour or two? ‘Tis how long they said they would keep looking."

  "Aye, and then fetch the dogs. The sooner we can get back to Sir Payton's house, the longer we are off these streets, then the more time there will be for others to walk o'er our path, mayhaps muddle our scent."

  "Ah, of course.” She crawled out of the hole, brushing herself as he crawled out behind her. “Ye are frighteningly good at all this. I thought I had some skill, but ye make me look like the veriest novice."

  "Nay, ye are verra good. Ye are a weel bred lady, yet ye kept pace with me, didnae need much direction at all as we skipped all o'er this town, and ye ken weel how to hide, how to be silent. The only thing ye didnae ken was where to go, all the little twists and turns."

  "I think it may be wise for ye to remember all these skills e'en though ye are now training to fight,” she said as they started out on yet another attempt to reach Payton's home.

  Callum nodded. “'Tis what Strong Ian said, too. Told me to keep such skills honed sharp. Told me that sometimes, part of defeating your enemy is to live to fight him another day. Said that if ye are outnumbered, ‘tis nay shameful to run and hide so ye can fight again when the odds are much better. A clever mon is Strong Ian."

  "Aye, ‘twould seem so. Do ye think he and Payton will be clever enough to keep the dogs from finding us, or Roderick when his hounds point the way?"

  "Och, aye. He will ken what to do. Dinnae ye fret o'er that."

  Easier said than done,” she murmured and fell silent as she carefully followed Callum on a torturous route through the town.

  "Alive?"

  Roderick stared at the two men who had intruded upon him in his bedchamber, forcing him to curtail his planned enjoyment. He had been reduced to purchasing a well-trained boy from Mistress Murchison, a base whore well known to provide for any and all tastes. It would serve for now, he thought as the boy slipped away to wait for his summons in the adjoining bedchamber. The boy lacked the sweetness, the innocence Roderick craved, however. He had already been broken to bridle, already been trained. Roderick preferred ones trained by his own hand.

  Inwardly shrugging, he fixed his attention upon Gib and Wattie. He was not sure he should believe the fools, yet if his wife was alive, a great deal was suddenly explained. Although not sure how she could have accomplished it, if Kirstie had survived, then she was the one blackening his name, the one responsible for his having to hire a whore because it was increasingly impossible to get anything else. She probably had an accomplice and Roderick decided that person would have to die as well. Why could people not just let him be, he thought with an inner sigh. Self-righteous frauds, the whole lot of them, and his skinny wife was the worst of the lot.

  "Aye, m'lord,” answered Gib. “She and a lad we think was that wretch Callum.” He proceeded to tell Roderick how they had bumped into the pair and pursued them for hours.

  Ignoring a great deal of what Gib said, for Roderick was sure the man exaggerated his skill and effort during the chase, Roderick asked, “And ye are verra sure it was my wife?"

  "With them odd eyes and that black hair? Oh, aye, ‘twas Lady Kirstie. Nay doubt. Nay sure who the lad was, though he was the right size to be Callum and ye had suspected she had helped him."

  "I suspect she robbed me of a number of children. Slipping about the place like some ghostie, spying on me, and robbing me of my treasures. I should have rid myself of the bitch years ago."

  He felt a surge of rage at the thought of his wife. She had consistently betrayed him. Even now, when he had thought himself free, she still betrayed him, for he was certain she was behind all the whispers and gossip dogging his heels. He should have strangled her on their wedding night when she had revealed her deceit. When he felt the gorge rise to sting the back of his throat, he forced that memory away.

  "We thought to set the dogs on her trail,” said Wattie.

  "Ye cannae set those hounds loose to run free through the town,” said Roderick.

  "Just a few, on a lead, ye ken. We could pick out the best of the pack."

  "Nay tonight.” Roderick poured himself a goblet of fine wine, ignoring the covetous glances his men gave it.

  "But the trail will still be fresh now,” protested Gib. “Come the morrow there will be more people walking about, making it verra hard for the dogs to catch her scent."

  "There have been people walking all over whatever trail they laid since the moment ye saw them,” snapped Roderick, and then he downed his drink. “Leave it ‘til the morning. The moment I start hunting my wife, I shall have to explain why I told everyone she was dead. I need time to plan an answer to that question. And, since we now ken she is hiding in the town, a clear trail isnae so vital, only expedient. We can still sniff her out, find where she has gone to ground."

  Wattie shook his head. “I dinnae understand why she didnae drown.” He tensed and took a step back toward the door when Roderick cursed and flung his goblet against the wall.

  "Apparently the bitch could swim, couldnae she? Curse her, she doesnae e'en have the grace to die like a lady.” He took several deep breaths, but his fury only faded a little, strong remnants of it continuing to ripple through him. “This time I will make sure she is dead. Whether I decide to let her die quickly or make her suffer for all the trouble she has caused, I will still make certain she is dead. I want that boy, too. And whoever has been fool enough to help her. Now, go. We will begin the hunt at dawn."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  CHAPTER TEN

  "Where have ye been?"

  Kirstie stumbled into the house when Payton threw open the kitchen door. She staggered over to the bench by the table before looking at him, noting absently that Callum did the same. Payton looked as furious as he had when she had gone after Roderick, dagger in hand. She suspected he had never spent so much time being angry, especially at a woman. Kirstie wondered if that should trouble her or if she should consider it an achievement.

  "Running away from Roderick's hounds,” she replied in a weary voice and greedily drank the cool cider Alice served her and Callum. “Running, hiding, running some more, and hiding some more. I dinnae think I have the strength left to move."

  Payton felt his heart clen
ch, and was astonished at how deeply he feared for this woman's safety. The woman seemed to leap from crisis to crisis with astonishing speed. If this was how he was going to feel each time she courted danger, he would be a madman in just a few days. He was tempted to find a mirror to see if his hair was turning grey.

  Before he could speak, Ian strode into the kitchen and looked at Callum and Kirstie, nodded, then looked at Callum. “Saw Roderick's faithful hounds searching the town. Followed them until they fetched their mounts and rode out of town. Couldnae get close enough to hear much,” he looked at Kirstie, “but they saw ye, lass, didnae they?"

  "Aye,” she replied. “'Twas a wretched accident. They staggered into the alley we were slipping down. Knocked us both aside and I lost my cap. Unfortunately, there was enough light where we stood for them to get a good look at me. We managed to break away, but it took a long time to lose them so that we could return here. Of course, we cannae stay.” She wondered if she would have time for a nice, hot bath before she had to flee.

  "I think a hot bath and some food are needed,” Wee Alice said quickly when Payton growled and dragged his fingers through his hair. “That will revive ye, lass,” she helped Kirstie to her feet, “and then ye can clearly tell Sir Payton what has happened. Ye, too, Callum. They will be needing ye alert, too, for they will be wanting a mon's view of it all."

  After looking around the kitchen that now held only him and Ian, Payton hurried out into the hall and called after a rapidly departing Alice, “My ledger room. One hour. Nay more."

  "I think I must needs set a torch to that cursed ledger room,” Kirstie muttered and was able to smile when Wee Alice laughed.

  Payton was extremely angry this time, Kirstie mused as she sipped her wine. He had barely even looked her way from the moment she and Callum had come to the ledger room. Once she had been seated and given a drink, he had turned all of his attention on Callum. If the man was going to ignore her, she thought crossly, he could have just allowed her to go to bed. If he was trying to make some point or give her some lesson, she was too tired to understand. All she wanted to do was get up, give him a sound kick in his too-attractive backside, and then go to bed and sleep for a few days.

  She looked at Ian, who occasionally took his solemn gaze from Callum and Payton. The man would then glance between her and Payton and look highly amused. Kirstie was not sure what could possibly amuse the man about the irritating way Payton was treating her, but perhaps it was some manly humor beyond her understanding.

  The more she thought on it, the longer Payton did not even glance her way, the more annoyed Kirstie grew. She finally decided enough was enough. She would soon have to start running for her life, and she needed some rest. When she stood up and started to walk past Payton, she realized he was not ignoring her as completely as he had pretended to be. She released a squeak more from surprise than pain when he grabbed hold of her braid and pulled her to his side, only to quickly release it to grasp her hand in an iron grip.

  Just as she opened her mouth to berate the beautiful tyrant holding her captive, Callum said, “Those two pigs cannae wait to get their hands on our Kirstie. They are thinking Roderick will let them tup her ere he kills her."

  "Callum,” she murmured, half in admonishment over his language and half in an attempt to get him to be quiet, “Sir Payton doesnae need to hear all that.” Kirstie was a little concerned over how tense Payton had become and just what it might mean. “'Twas all just empty boasting."

  "What else did they say?” Payton asked the boy in a calm but cold voice.

  "Seems Roderick was thinking on letting his men tup her to start her breeding. He needs an heir. Gib and Wattie were nay sure why, just that Roderick would get something for it. Said he was talking on that plan when Kirstie forced him to try and shut her mouth.” Callum glanced at Kirstie, shrugged, then added, “They are thinking they might still get her because Roderick might like shaming her ere he kills her."

  "If she even survived those two brutes taking turns with her.” Payton took a deep breath and was able to speak somewhat pleasantly as he told Callum, “Ye did yourself proud, lad. Get some rest now."

  "We need a new place to hide, I am thinking."

  "Only if the bastard comes here and he willnae be kicking in my doors, nay the first time. Ian is already preparing a wee hiding place. There are several in the cellars."

  "Willnae the dogs sniff us out?"

  "There is a chance of that, but I am nay too concerned about it. There are a few things one can do to put dogs off the scent and we will keep what is needed close to hand. Go on, lad. Get yourself to bed."

  Even as Callum and Ian left, Kirstie started trying to wriggle her hand free of Payton's hold. It annoyed her when he ignored her with apparent ease and dragged her along as he started out of the room. When she realized he was headed to his bedchamber, she started to protest, then tightly pressed her lips together to quell the urge. She did not think the anger she could feel in the man was directed at her, but she was not inclined to do anything to stop his obvious attempts to control it. Kirstie knew how easily such anger could singe anyone foolish enough to nudge at it, innocent or not.

  Her resolve to remain quiet and let Payton wrestle with his emotions grew difficult to cling to as the minutes wore on and he remained tensely silent. He undressed her without a word. He set her on the bed with barely a glance. He undressed himself in that same heavy silence. When he crawled into bed beside her, and sprawled on his back with his arms crossed beneath his head, she decided she had had enough. Clutching the covers to her breasts, she sat up to frown at him. It pleased Kirstie to see that her rising displeasure had finally caught his attention.

  "Just why have ye brought me in here if ye dinnae mean to e'en speak to me?” she asked when he looked at her.

  "Oh, I mean to do more than speak to ye,” he drawled.

  "Do ye now?” She flopped back down and turned her back to him. “I will try to stay awake until ye finish with your brooding."

  "I wasnae really brooding."

  "Nay?"

  "Nay. I was fighting down the urge to go and kill someone. Three someones, in truth."

  Kirstie turned onto her other side to look at him. “Roderick, Gib, and Wattie."

  "Aye.” He slid his arm around her and tugged her close against his side. “Ye hadnae intended to tell me about what Roderick's faithful hounds had said, had ye?” He trailed his fingers up and down her spine as he waited for her to reply.

  "Nay,” she confessed. “Roderick wants me dead. ‘Tis all that really matters. What Gib and Wattie said was but one possible way Roderick might accomplish the deed. I didnae feel it was so verra important, especially when I suspected what they had said would irritate you."

  Payton laughed softly, but the sound was tainted by his lingering anger. “Aye, it irritated me. It was nay just the talk of whether or nay they would each have a turn at ye ere they killed ye, or Roderick did."

  "Nay?” She had found the thought of that possibility somewhat chilling.

  "Nay. Sad to say, ‘tis nay uncommon for rape to precede the murder of a lass, e'en in battle. E'en if ‘tis nay thought of as some right of conquest,” Payton's tone revealed his contempt for that attitude, “there are far too many men who dinnae heed a nay or e'en think a lass has no right to deny him. A poor lass can e'en find herself used to deliver a blow or an insult to another such as was done to my cousin Sorcha by enemies of my Uncle Eric."

  "How sad.” She kissed his chest, intrigued when that gesture of sympathy caused him to tremble faintly. “So, ye were nay angered by such talk?” Kirstie idly circled his navel with her finger, fascinated by the way his belly clenched.

  "I wouldnae say that. I was, however, nay surprised. Nay, ‘twas talk of the fate ye barely escaped, that your foul bastard of a husband thought to give ye to those two pigs until they got ye with child.” He took a deep, slow breath in an attempt to control the desire she was rapidly stirring with her idle touches. “He co
uldnae treat ye as a wife or a woman,” and Payton was a little surprised at how much that pleased him, “but he wouldnae set ye free, either. Did he truly think he could use ye so and ye would ne'er tell your kinsmen of such an insult?"

  Kirstie lightly bit her lip and cast him an uneasy glance. “He may have had some right to think that.” She grimaced at his look of astonishment. “I had nay sought their help o'er anything else. Since that atrocity didnae happen, I cannae say I would have gone to them. My fear for them was e'en greater than my fear of Roderick, or any revulsion or unhappiness. By all the laws of church and mon, I am Roderick's chattel. He can do with me as he chooses."

  "Nay that."

  "Nay? How could I be certain which thing he did would be the one to make the law side with me, his wife? Or, more important, make his family believe he should stand alone against my family's anger? The other MacIyes I met seemed good men, fair men, and treated me kindly. But, I was slow to see the evil in Roderick so how much could I trust in my own judgments? The cost of being wrong, of stirring my family to righteous outrage, could be their verra lives.” She shrugged. “'Tisnae so easy to ken what to do when ye ken a wrong move could bring destruction and e'en death upon all ye care about."

  "I will make him pay,” Payton vowed and pressed his lips to her forehead.

  She was deeply moved by his words, by the emotion she could hear in his voice. Kirstie's first reaction was one of delight, her besotted mind seeing the words as an indication that he cared for her, that she was more than just another lover. Common sense quickly reared its head, scoffing at her romantic notions. Payton was, in all ways, a chivalrous knight. His vow was born of such ideals, of his outrage that any of his ilk would act so completely against all rules of chivalry.

  It was a shame he did not follow the rules of courtly love so assiduously, loving only from afar, she thought and nearly smiled. That might have ensured he did not have such a lecherous history, but it would also mean he would not now be in this bed with her. Kirstie shifted against him, and smiled faintly against the warm, taut skin of his chest. They also would not be skin to skin, as they were now, and that would be a sad loss.