A Laird's Promise

by Aileen Adams

  In fact, after she had gotten to know Phillip—

  The sound of voices distracted her.

  Quickly, Heather hid the bow and arrows inside a nearby bush, heart pounding, fearful of being discovered.

  If people knew what she was up to, what would they think? Would they laugh at her? Tease her? More importantly, what would Sarah think?

  She frowned as she watched two young women from the village stroll into the meadow, each carrying hand baskets.

  No!

  This was her spot!

  She didn't think anyone knew of it—that was foolish. She was less than a mile from the manor house, maybe a little less from the village. Of course, she wasn't the only one who knew this meadow.

  She sank deeper into the shadows. Not only did she not want to be seen, and therefore to explain her presence, but she didn't want to be drawn into conversation.

  The woods grew still as the two young women entered the clearing, their voices animated. Heather didn't mean to eavesdrop, really she didn't, but with leaves on the ground and the thick brush around her, she knew that if she retreated, they would likely hear her.

  So, she remained where she was.

  She looked upward into the tree branches, watching a squirrel scamper on a limb high overhead. She smiled.

  “… but he's so handsome!”

  Heather glanced from the squirrel to the clearing, immediately curious.

  Who were they talking about?

  “I don't find him handsome at all. Not nearly as handsome as his brother.”

  Who? Who were they talking about?

  “I wouldn't mind him warming my sheets at night,” one of them giggled.

  Heather barely stifled a gasp of shock.

  “But he's lame now! It's doubtful he'll be soldiering any more,” said the other one, reaching down to pluck some flowers.

  At that moment, Heather had no doubt about the man’s identity.

  They were talking about Jake, Phillip’s brother.

  He had been wounded in battle last spring, the mitigating factor as to why Sarah had been kidnapped in the first place.

  From what Heather had gathered from the story Sarah told her, the village healer had failed to heal Jake's battle wound.

  In fact, Jake had nearly died.

  Phillip, desperate to save his brother’s life, and ridden all the way to the coast to kidnap Sarah. Her reputation as a healer had traveled far and wide.

  Sarah had saved Jake’s life. His terrible wound had healed, but some said he was not the man he used to be.

  He walked with a limp now.

  Heather couldn't understand why that would matter when it came to warming someone's sheets—how rotten of them to think that Jake was less than a man just because he limped!

  Heather secretly liked Jake, despite his often gruff demeanor. Moodier than his brother, he wasn't much of a talker, but he had a relatively good sense of humor. A rather wicked sense of humor, she had learned.

  Heather had been the brunt of it herself, sitting at the dinner table with her sister, her brother-in-law, and Jake.

  And while she secretly harbored some affection for Jake, thinking him terribly brave and loyal, especially to his brother and her sister, he had never spared her a second glance.

  In fact, most of the time he seemed intent on ignoring her. When she was present around him, she felt invisible.

  While she didn't much care, not really anyway, she wondered what was wrong with her.

  In Kirkcaldy, she had had no dearth of suitors, not that she actually had the opportunity to meet any of them in any personal or private aspect. Patrick had seen to that.

  Still, since she had arrived on Duncan lands, the young men of the village hadn't seemed to give her a second thought.

  Not that she was in any hurry to wed, but she knew that she wasn't getting any younger.

  Why, even Sarah had married; something that she never thought her sister would do.

  She sighed again, and while the gossiping women moved off, Heather remained where she was, leaning back against the tree trunk, her face lifted to the warmth of the sun threading through the pine boughs, her eyes closed and a soft smile turning up the corners of her mouth as she thought of Jake.

  Who cared if he limped?

  Who cared if he wasn't the most handsome creature on the face of the earth?

  Chapter Two

  Jake meandered slowly through the forest surrounding the acreage behind the manor house, ever watchful of intruders. The Duncans, one of the most powerful clans in this part of Scotland, were often the target of other clans hoping to usurp their lands, attack the village, or take out their revenge on Phillip, or even himself, for perceived past wrongs.

  He made a face, thinking about Ceana Cameron.

  Even after so many months had passed, he couldn't get over the fact that the woman had tried to poison him.

  Poison him!

  Because he had lost interest in her?

  He gazed through the trees, not seeing anything that captured his interest.

  Spiteful woman!

  He had never declared more than a passing affection for her. He had never officially asked for her hand in marriage. He'd never promised her neither his devotion nor his loyalty.

  And she had tried to kill him! Thankfully, Phillip had taken matters into his own hand and kidnapped Sarah MacDonald. Jake knew that wasn't right—the kidnapping part—but he had done so to save him. And she had saved his life and gained a husband in return. They made a good pair.

  Sarah was a good match for his brother, something Jake feared that he would never find for himself. He had not thought Phillip would ever find a good mate, always so serious, so burdened by the responsibilities of a clan leader that he put the needs of everyone before his own.

  But then, Sarah had come into their lives. Against her choice at first, but she had changed her mind after Phillip had promised to save her sister, Heather. Jake himself had grown quite affectionate toward Sarah as his sister-in-law over the past months.

  Thinking about Sarah and Phillip got him to thinking about her sister, Heather. That young lass was, in many ways, the complete opposite of her sister. Shy, quiet, often burrowing into the background, he nevertheless sensed that she was more than aware of everything going on around her. She was a watcher, that one. One who studied people, who thought things through. She often kept to herself, seemed content with remaining in the background.

  Sometimes, he cast surreptitious glances at her while they gathered around the table.

  More often than not, Heather's gaze remained lowered on her plate.

  It seemed to him that she ate as quickly as possible so that she could excuse herself. If she was asked a question, she answered politely, but didn’t encourage conversation.

  Did she feel uncomfortable with Phillip and Sarah or perhaps feel that she wasn't giving the newlyweds enough privacy?

  Or was it him? Did she find him so damaged or ugly that she couldn't bear to be around him for long?

  He scowled and glanced down at his leg, resisting the urge to shout his outrage.

  He was grateful that Sarah had saved his life, no doubt about that, but he was permanently scarred and lame. He would always have a limp.

  Infection, poison, a drawn-out illness, and recovery had taken its toll. It'd taken him months to accept the fact that he would likely never venture into battle again.

  Often, his leg pained him greatly and ached with the fierceness that nothing eased. On chilly, damp evenings of late, he pulled his chair as close to the fireplace in his room as he dared, relishing the warmth that soaked into his damaged, and scarred thigh muscles. Even so, the heat only slightly eased the throbbing.

  The past winter had been nearly excruciating, and it'd taken much of Jake's willpower to hide his pain.

  He knew he wasn't fooling Sarah. She watched him.

  He had brushed off several of her attempts to offer sympathy for his plight. He didn't need, nor did
he want, anyone's pity.

  Despite his gruff responses to her attempts, she had told him to gently massage the muscles while he sat in front of the fire. She had given him poultices, and once, a broth that had him falling asleep mere minutes after he'd consumed it. The first restful night of sleep he had enjoyed in weeks.

  He didn't talk about his pain. He didn't want to explain that his often-gruff manner and behavior were the result of the constant ache and the pangs that shot through his thigh muscles as he ascended and descended the stairs to his bedchamber or from there to the main room. The heated throbbing often caused him to catch his breath when he walked for long periods without resting.

  Jake refused to show weakness.

  Hoping to mollify him and his inability to return to battle, Phillip had put Jake in charge of the safety of not only the manor, but the village and the Duncan lands.

  Together with Maccay Douglas and Hugh McInnis, the three were responsible for the safety of the inhabitants of the region.

  Jake took the responsibility seriously.

  Maybe not as thrilling or invigorating as battle, but he took his duties to protect their people seriously—

  He heard the sound of voices followed by soft laughter coming from the meadow a short distance away. Maybe a half mile from the manor, the meadow was one of his favorite places to think.

  He hadn't been here in a while. Not since the last time he had brought Ceana here, and they had enjoyed a bit of kissing, some fondling, and despite Ceana’s urgings, that was where it had ended.

  He, Ceana, and Phillip had grown up together. While she had blossomed into quite a beauty, he felt uncomfortable pursuing a relationship with her.

  The plain fact of the matter was, he was jealous of the glances that she got from other men. Not just their glances, but the smiles that she always sent in return. As if she welcomed their flirtations. Even in his presence, she didn't bother to hide her giggles or obvious pleasure at being ogled by other men.

  It hadn't taken him long to realize that perhaps Ceana was more interested in his position in the Duncan clan than merely himself.

  Ceana had made no secret of the fact that she aspired to a better position and status then she had been relegated by birth. It didn't matter to her that she came from a long line of healers who were greatly respected and honored among the clan.

  While Jake didn't really blame Ceana for aspiring to a loftier position in life, he knew that she was not well suited to such a position. He didn't get that impression when it came to Sarah.

  Sarah was a kind, compassionate, and devoted soul. She loved Phillip and therefore his clan. As a healer, she would not only look after their physical well-being, but Jake had no doubt that she would also be a strong compatriot when it came to their needs, just as Phillip was.

  Far from arrogant or conceited, Sarah was nevertheless a woman who didn't hesitate to speak her mind—something that Phillip often found aggravating, but a good trait in a laird’s wife.

  Phillip had her ear. Since they had married, Sarah had come to Jake several times asking for his advice on how to deal with Phillip’s moods and sometimes obstinacy.

  He had laughed and wished her well, but Sarah seemed to be finding her place well enough.

  The household and others who took care of the manor, the stables, and the armory liked her. The villagers liked her as well.

  Once again, his thoughts drifted to Heather. She was of marrying age, even heading past it. While several eligible bachelors from among Duncans troops and the villagers stared at her with interest in their eyes, none had yet approached the laird or his wife in regard to courting her.

  He wondered why.

  Was there something about her that he didn't know? Some aspect of her personality that was off-putting? He couldn't imagine what it could be—

  He neared the edge of the meadow and happened to glance over to his right. He did a double take, surprised to find Heather standing under a tree, leaning against it, her face lifted to the sunshine, a smile on her lips. He stood stock still and felt a twinge of… of what?

  She was very pretty. Not as beautiful as Ceana, but that didn't count for much, did it?

  He looked around carefully.

  What was she doing out here? Why was she standing there like that?

  He continued to watch her, his eyes taking in every aspect of her figure. The way the sunlight brought out the corn silk colors in her long, blonde hair, today captured and tamed in a long braid that was pulled over her shoulder and reached down to her waist. He eyed her delicate features—the exquisite profile, the fine bone structure of her cheeks and jawline. Her lips, so pink and inviting.

  He felt the stirrings of arousal but tamped it down with a scowl.

  While it had been a while since he had been with a woman, he was surprised at the feelings that Heather evoked within him. He shook his head, scolding himself.

  She was Sarah’s little sister. Well, not so little, and only a couple of years younger than her sister. In fact, he and Heather were much the same age.

  Had she been talking to herself? Is that what he had heard?

  He looked around the meadow and to the other side but didn't see anyone. Come to think of it; he realized that Heather slipped away often. Not that he really paid attention, but he did notice that one minute she would be someplace and the next she would be gone. Is this where she came?

  He took several steps closer, careful not to step on branches to alert her to his presence. He managed to close the distance between them but then paused, so close that he saw the pulse of blood in the bluish tinted vein that threaded up the side of her long, slender, white neck.

  “What are you doing here?”

  She startled, hands tightly pressed against the tree bark as she quickly glanced around to determine the source of the intruding voice. Her eyes passed him, but then quickly returned, widened in dismay. In an instant, her dismay transformed into irritation.

  She frowned, staring at him. “Are you spying on me?”

  “Now why would I do that?”

  She offered a slight shrug as she pushed herself away from the tree and stood facing him, arms crossed over small, though pleasantly rounded breasts. Her face wore an image of defiance, as if she had been caught doing something wrong.

  He took a step closer, but she backed away.

  He frowned.

  “What are you doing out here?” he asked again.

  “Does it matter?”

  He glanced around. Was someone out here with her? A secret tryst?

  “It's not really a good idea to be traipsing around by yourself in the forest. That's all.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  Her attempt at bravado amused him, and he grinned. “Can you now?”

  To his surprise, a flush of color swept up her neck and into her cheeks.

  Adorable.

  “Heather, what are you doing out here?”

  “Trying to enjoy some peace and quiet, do you mind?”

  For a moment, he was flabbergasted. What had gotten into her? Usually so quiet, now she had her hackles up.

  “You'd better go on back to the manor.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?”

  Didn't she understand how dangerous it was out here in the forest by herself?

  “You do remember what happened to your sister last year, don't you? She ran into the forest and ended up getting kidnapped.”

  “Again.”

  “What?”

  “She ran into the forest to escape her first kidnapper, your brother. Remember? It wasn't her fault that that woman, that healer, kidnapped her a second time.”

  “Ceana.”

  “What?”

  “The healer's name. Ceana. Ceana Cameron. And I should warn you that we still haven't found her.”

  Heather made a face. “I'm not afraid of her.”

  “Maybe you should be,” he said quietly. He glanced around again. “It'll be dusk soon. The animals wi
ll be coming out to drink at the stream on the other side of the meadow. Again, not a good time to be about without any weapon to defend yourself.”

  “The only wild animals I've seen out here is a young buck, a couple of rabbits, a squirrel, and a chipmunk. I think I can defend myself against an attacking rabbit if I had to.”

  Jake stared at her, wondering what in the blazes had gotten into her. He finally decided it didn't matter. He was in charge, and she was not. Straining to his full height, frowning as ominously as he could manage, he ordered her back to the manor.

  She didn't move.

  He resorted to blackmail.

  “I'll tell your sister.”

  “Go ahead,” she shrugged.

  Fine.

  He turned around, prepared to return to the manor and do just that when she spoke up.

  “All right, I’m going!”

  She brushed past him, mumbling. “I don't know why I can't go any place just to be by myself without being harassed by interlopers…”

  He watched, shaking his head with amusement as she disappeared, her mumblings growing dimmer as she headed back toward the manor house.

  He followed, albeit at a slower pace, thinking that it was probably the longest conversation the two of them had had since she and Sarah had arrived.

  Her looks were deceiving. She might be daintier than her sister and a bit more withdrawn and shy, but she certainly could speak up when she had a mind to.

  He smiled, nodding with satisfaction.

  Perhaps he had underestimated her. It was that very thought that had him growing more curious about her.

  He wondered why she was out here.

  Alone.

  Was this where she disappeared to all the time?

  Maybe it was time to find out.

  Chapter Three

  Heather followed the faint footpath through the trees and back toward the manor house. She couldn’t help but feel Jake watching her every move. She stiffened her back and held her head high. He would not intimidate her. He could not. But he did.