Tempest in the Highlands (The Scottish Relic Trilogy)
Page 10
Her gaze lifted in defiance. “I’m not Miranda.”
He had expected her to say that. “You are not Miranda? What other woman would have boarded my ship at Tarbert Castle? Who else was running for her life? And don’t try to tell me that you’re not a woman raised in comfort and privilege. A woman who has never done the work of a servant. A woman who is definitely unaccustomed to taking orders.”
She held up a palm, pointing at the cuts.
“You can’t be serious,” he broke in before she could protest. He smiled and shook his head. “You did that to yourself, imp, because you didn’t even know how to open an oyster.”
She put her hands on her hips, glaring up at him. “And why would Miranda save your life? Repeatedly?”
“Because I’m the means for you to get wherever you want to go,” he said. “And I already know where that is. You’re headed to Duart Castle on the Isle of Mull.”
“And how would you know that? Did that come up during your stop at Tarbert Castle?”
“As a matter of fact, it did.”
She paced away a few steps and came back. Rob imagined this wasn’t the way she’d expected her secret to be revealed.
“Even if I were the person you think I am, why would I want to go to Duart Castle?” she asked.
“Maybe you should answer some of my questions before you start asking your own.”
He was using his fiercest look on her, but she was clearly unimpressed. She matched his scowl in stubbornness as well as ferocity.
“Glare all you like, wildcat,” he said. “We’re not going anywhere until we settle this lie you’ve been feeding me.”
She stared at him for a few moments and finally shrugged. “Very well. You’re correct. I am Miranda MacDonnell. And it’s true, I was going to get off your ship at Duart Castle.”
“Why did you want to go there? I believe neighboring clans are not always the closest of allies.”
“They aren’t.” She shrugged again, offering no more. “It’s your turn.”
“My turn for what?”
She frowned up at him. “You know what Sir Ralph Evers did to my family, to the folk in that castle. I know the people who died there. And I also know that helping us wasn’t entirely an act of goodwill on your part. So why did you stop there?”
He studied her face, trying to decide how much she needed to know. Rob’s commission to find and kill Evers was secret. He’d never be able to catch him if word spread that he was after him. And Rob had no interest in spending years chasing the man.
But how could word spread, he thought, when only the two of them were here? And their oversized visitor didn’t count.
The old priest at Tarbert had told him that Evers was after Miranda, though Rob still didn’t know why.
“My task is to find Evers. I went to Tarbert Castle because I heard of the attack, and it sounded like his guile and savagery.” He shrugged. “And I was right.”
“So you’re acting under your king’s orders?”
“Aye. Is this your idea of taking turns telling the truth?”
“In a moment. Why were you sent to find him?”
She didn’t need to know all the details. “I have instructions to take him back to England.”
“Why?” she asked, temper flushing her cheeks. “To reward him for the fine job he’s done killing innocent people?”
Rob shook his head. “It’s not for me to question my king, but I’ll tell you what I know. As we speak, King Henry is fighting in France. The last time he did this, he was a young man, and the Scots invaded from the north. He hasn’t forgotten that. Sir Ralph and Hertford and others were sent here to make sure that doesn’t happen again. But Evers has gone far beyond the king’s commands. He acts for and serves no one but himself.”
She snorted. “What does your king care? I’ve heard he drinks Scottish blood with his supper. And make no mistake, we find no honor in the violence that the English inflict here.”
Rob wasn’t surprised to hear the venom in her voice. There weren’t many in Scotland who didn’t share her sentiments. But Miranda’s father had been willing to deal with the English. Why else he would invite Evers to his doorstep?
She shook her head in obvious disappointment and walked away.
“Wait,” he said, catching up with her. “You asked me a question. What other response did you expect?”
“None.”
He took Miranda by the arm and swung her around. “You might not like it, but I’ve answered your questions. Now it’s your turn.”
“You know who I am. There is nothing else to tell.”
He looked at the stubborn set of her chin. Uncontrollably, his gaze went to her lips. It was impossible to not notice the individual perfections that, put together, made up her face.
“Evers went to Tarbert Castle expecting to see your mother,” he said. “Why? What did she have that he was after?”
There was that damned shrug again. She was shutting him out. He took her chin and lifted it, forcing her to look into his eyes.
“Evers is not a man who wastes time. When he found your mother was dead, he killed your father and sacked the castle. He’s now after you. Why? What does he want?”
“I’m just a runaway, remember?” she replied. “I have no answers to give you. But when you find Evers, you can ask him.”
Chapter 13
Whether Hawk was telling the truth about his loyalties or his reasons for being in Scotland, it made no difference to Miranda.
Her secret would remain with her. She could trust no one. She certainly had no reason to trust this man.
From her earliest years, she’d seen the blessing her mother’s gift had been for the MacDonnell clan. But Muirne’s vision at the Shrine of the Cloak had led to her exposure. The good deed she performed in saving those lives was repaid with a bounty on her life so high that Angus MacDonnell chose to betray his own wife.
Thinking of that now, Miranda barely saw the sky above her or the ground beneath her feet.
Her own father, Muirne’s husband, the laird of MacDonnells, the man who had sworn to keep his people safe, invited the devil to their door. He’d sent for Evers, willing to surrender his wife for the proverbial thirty pieces of silver. And he’d done this never knowing the full value of her gift. He only thought that Muirne had dreams that occasionally seemed to come true. Angus knew nothing of the relic or of her ability to touch a person’s hand and see into their future. With good reason, she had never entrusted him with the secret.
Miranda knew her mother used this power to learn her husband’s plans. She also knew what was to become of Tarbert Castle and the MacDonnells living there, including Miranda. But she told her daughter just what pertained to her.
Muirne’s confrontation with Angus had only resulted in a violent response, during which Miranda had stepped in to stop him from raising a hand to her sick mother. She had taken the beating instead.
The next day Muirne started to plan.
Miranda quickened her steps to hide the tears springing to her eyes at the memory of the selfless woman who had been everything to her. She owed her life to her mother, as did her twin brother, though he didn’t know it. She wondered if the day would ever come when she’d meet Gavin and tell him his own history.
Hawk grabbed her by the arm, and Miranda realized she was walking too close to the cliff.
“I may not be your first choice for company, but let’s not do anything drastic,” he said.
She shook off his hand and stepped away from the edge. The fog here looked thick enough to walk on, and she realized she could easily have gone over.
“And if anyone has a right to be annoyed right now, it’s not you,” he added.
Still following the shore, they were beginning to descend into a valley. Below them, the bottomlands were blanketed in a shroud of mist.
“One would imagine having a woman to travel with,” Hawk persisted, “especially one with a civilized upbringing, might make for goo
d company.”
“And you think I’m here for your entertainment?” she asked. “Who would ever think something so ridiculous?”
“A man who’d been in the sun too long. A man who drank gallons of seawater. A man who had suffered a severe blow to the head.”
She stifled a laugh. “Thankfully, you seem to have recovered from them all.”
He sent her a cross look. “I liked you much better when you pretended to be an unruly, ill-trained kitchen helper. Could you pretend to be that lad for the rest of the time we’re trapped on this island?”
“As you already know, I don’t take orders well under any name.” She started off again, hiding a smile but paying more attention now to where she walked.
They continued down into the valley, side by side. Miranda could feel his gaze often on her face. He was doing a great deal of that today. Perhaps he’d been doing the same thing yesterday, and she just didn’t notice. She recalled their conversation about bedding a woman and who was her first. She blushed, thinking he’d known the entire time it was all a lie.
In one thing, Hawk was right. In Miranda’s mind, it was easier to be with him under the pretense of being male. In disguise, she wasn’t aware of being scrutinized or measured. As a lad, she didn’t consider herself a liability. She didn’t need to be protected, cared for. She earned her own keep. But this was all in her head; he was treating her no differently that he’d treated Gavin yesterday.
The trouble wasn’t with Hawk, but with her. And what did it say about Miranda’s upbringing and her state of mind that she considered herself so much less valuable as a woman?
Her thoughts were sobering. A door had cracked open into her soul and reality was peeking out.
Miranda wanted to pretend that this didn’t bother her. But that was a lie. She walked faster.
“Are you seriously angry with me?” he asked, catching up to her.
“I’m not angry, at all,” she answered truthfully. Why should it take this man to make her realize a failing in herself? Her father’s actions and attitude demeaned women, but Miranda had allowed his beliefs to take hold in her head. “Just distrustful.”
“Why?”
Why? she thought. Because she was brought up to be vigilant if she wanted to survive. She glanced up at him. She’d do her best to hide it forever, but he affected her with his good looks, his masculine presence, his wit and sense of humor, when he chose to use them. She thought back to their conversation about marriage and women. He hadn’t said much, but she could imagine just how many women he’d left in his wake with hearts pounding out of control. She knew privateers were ruthless men who took whatever they wanted and used it to achieve their own goals. And Black Hawk was one of the most renowned.
Sir Ralph Evers apparently knew something of the power her mother wielded. That was why he’d gone after her and why he now wanted Miranda. She tried to imagine what Hawk would do if he realized what she possessed and how easily it could be his. She was certain he’d killed for less.
“No answer why,” he persisted. “Only silence.”
Another reason why it was much easier to pretend to be a man, especially one who was a stranger. As Gavin, she could speak her mind without a care how those words might be taken. As a woman, the rules of propriety were so damned restrictive.
“What is there to say?” she asked.
“Because I serve a different master, we can’t be friends?”
“Friends?” she repeated. “Friends have something in common.”
“And we don’t?”
“Nothing binds us.”
His gaze fixed on her face again, and she stared ahead. They were still walking in brilliant sunshine, yet she could see almost nothing of the valley ahead through the low-hanging fog. The air had the fresh scent of a parched earth after a rain, but Miranda knew there had been no storms.
“We’re both good swimmers,” he said. She rolled her eyes. “Good climbers?”
“Similar survival instincts do not count,” she said to him. “Everyone has them, and the best in us only comes out in times of danger.”
“You are completely wrong there. We’ve gone through a great deal together already. We have a shared experience,” he told her. “And the next time I get washed off the deck of my ship, I’ll want only you to come after me.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Do you really think I’d do all of this again? Jump into the sea after you? Get myself stranded on an island with you?”
“I’d do it for you.”
She saw the mischief in his expression. He was teasing her, luring her in. And she wanted to go where he was taking her.
“Wouldn’t you do the same for me?” Hawk asked.
He already knew that she would. She’d proved it to him repeatedly. “No matter what my poor judgment forces me to do, we still have nothing in common.”
“Our fathers,” Hawk said. “We have that.”
She cocked an eyebrow, mocking him. “We both have fathers, and both of them were men.”
“Both are—or were—difficult men, feared by their families.”
He was serious now, but Miranda didn’t want to believe anyone was as severe a person as Angus MacDonnell. She genuinely feared the man and grew up avoiding him. And with good reason. Last night she’d said something about his temper, but she didn’t want to dwell on what she’d gone through. She also didn’t want to know about Hawk’s upbringing. She couldn’t take the risk of adding reasons why she should like him. There were plenty already.
“No talk of fathers,” she said. “Is there anything else that you think we have in common?”
He moved closer to her side, and she saw his hand go to the handle of his knife. Each step was taking them deeper into the dense mists of the valley floor. The fog closed in around them with a heavy wetness. Miranda looked up at the sky above. It was gone. They were enveloped in the mists.
“Neither of us has a home, a place where we belong.”
She stared up at him and then quickly looked away. His words slipped like a blade between her ribs and touched her deep in the chest. Emotions welled up and she fought to control them. It was true. Miranda no longer had a home. She had pinned all her hopes on finding her brother. But what if those hopes were dashed?
Her mother had told her that Gavin was now the ward of Sir Wyntoun MacLean. Miranda knew a challenge awaited her if she ever arrived at Duart Castle. She would need to convince her brother that she was truly his sister. She would also need to convince his adopted clan to extend their hospitality to her.
“Do you see it?” Hawk’s hushed voice cut into her thoughts.
Miranda followed his gaze. Peering through the thick fog, she saw ahead of them the dark outline of a beehive-shaped stone hut.
“People?” she whispered.
“Perhaps a village. There must be more than the one we saw.”
It was instinct. She had to see it. She needed to know what danger awaited them. She reached for Hawk’s hand. Their fingers entwined.
Darkness. Hawk was swimming in a dark space. And she was with him. He was holding her.
“You’re with me. Just stay close to me,” he said.
Miranda’s vision cleared, and she saw him watching her. His voice was low and reassuring. She could see how he might think that she was afraid. By the Virgin, she was afraid.
He squeezed her hand and let go. “We’ll get through this together.”
That was the vision she truly wanted to see. Hawk somewhere else. Somewhere safely off this island.
Miranda stayed by his side, her hand close to her knife. Another stone hut came into view, not far from the first one. Then another. And then several others. It did appear to be a village of some sort, but she could see no people and no smoke, nor any other sign that anyone was living here.
“Do you think this is where our giant lives?” she asked in a low voice.
“These huts are too small for him. Our friend couldn’t fit in there,” he answered,
pointing to a low door. “Besides, they all seem to be deserted.”
Looking around her, Miranda realized they were standing at the center of the village. Nine huts spread out roughly around them. Nothing covered the doorways. A feeling of uneasiness settled into her stomach.
The gray dwellings glistened with moisture, and dark green mosses grew from cracks in the stones. Mists swirled around, and figures that looked like giants loomed up behind them, only to become the twisted remains of trees before being lost in the fog again.
Standing there, Miranda felt vulnerable as she never had before. She couldn’t see very far beyond the rounded tops of these deserted buildings, and she shivered as a chill washed down her back. She turned slowly around, peering into the murky surroundings, imagining eyes upon them. Wolves and giants and birds with claws that could rip them apart.
Hawk started toward one of the huts.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“To see if the folk who lived here left us anything we can use.”
Miranda wanted to object, but she saw reason in it. Perhaps something had been left behind that they could use as a weapon.
With a look that was meant to be reassuring, he approached one of the huts and peered in before crawling through the low entryway.
If she had felt vulnerable before, she felt even worse now. The fog appeared to grow even thicker, and the huts themselves grew less distinct. She turned slowly, looking at each hive-shaped structure in turn. Any kind of creature could attack from those low doorways. The edges of panic began to take hold.
She froze as the realization hit her. She was standing inside a circle. Not a circle of standing stones, but a circle of stone nonetheless.
There was a whisper behind her. She spun around, but no one was there. “Hawk?”
No answer. Her heart beat so fast she thought it might burst out of her chest.
“Hawk?” she called out louder, looking at each hut. They were all the same. She had no idea which one he’d entered.
This way.
Miranda jumped, whirling toward the voice. Seeing nothing, she turned slowly. Her hand gripped the handle of her sheathed knife. Each hut had taken on a sinister look, the moss turning black, resembling dried blood, and the doorways gaping like hungry mouths.