Belonging to a Highlander

by K. M. Patterson

  Hugh balled a fist and whacked the arm of the chair he occupied before bringing his closed hand to brace under his chin. He stared off while Alaric refilled both their horns.

  "She won't even speak with me now, and for what? For some ridiculous reason. Some lie. Bess wouldn’t allow me into my wife's chambers." He poked his chest with a finger. "My wife refuses to allow me into her chambers."

  Had she any idea what he had been about in the village? Hugh shook his head. If she knew, she would feel contrite as never before.

  Alaric reached over and clapped Hugh on the arm. "And now you ken why I shall never wed."

  "I have explained myself aplenty."

  "And you'll continue to do so until the end of your days, mon." Alaric drank, then chuckled at Hugh's disgruntled expression. "Go to her. Break down the door if need be. Tell her why you were in the village and she will no doubt come to her senses."

  "Nay, I've already gone to her. 'Tis her turn to come to me. I'm done explaining myself." He crossed his arms over his chest.

  Alaric snorted.

  Hugh drained the horn, reached for and lifted the pitcher off the table beside them. The vessel was unfortunately empty. He growled low, but Alaric was quick to take the jug and rose with it.

  "As I said, I'm a betting mon, and my bet is on you going to the lass before another one of these—" he waved the pitcher in front of Hugh, "is emptied." He left the area they occupied by the hearth then and quickly returned with two filled pitchers, carrying one in the crook of each arm. "If you can'na bed your woman, you might as weel get drunk."

  Hugh snorted. "After our sparring, the last thing I feel up to is another inquisition. I've no the energy for her antics this night." Hugh took the filled horn Alaric offered him, but after another drained pitcher—and he only stayed that long to disprove his friend—he found himself less and less interested in the drink and more and more interested in surprising Catriona. He became captivated with the idea of breaking down a door.

  He set the horn away, his hands went to his knees and he pushed himself up, swayed, and then took the first steps toward Catriona's quarters.

  Alaric's laughter gained a dark scowl. "What is so funny?" Hugh asked.

  Alaric paused with the horn to his lips, his eyes not leaving the hearth. "I kenned you would no last long withoot going to her." He indicated the empty pitcher. "You do surprise me. 'Tis rare I lose a bet." He shook his head. "Women, the power they wield over us lesser creatures."

  Hugh looked at the distance separating him from the passage to her bedchamber. The walk there seemed a monumental challenge all in itself with the inebriated state he was in, and that was before he reached her barred door—a separate challenge altogether.

  He frowned.

  "Need me to place another wager to get your feet moving, mon? Go on now. The night is fading, and the lass will be less agreeable if you wake her." He took a long drink. "Or thus has been my experience."

  ****

  Having tried the door three previous times that evening, and met with failure each time, Hugh paced as he contemplated knocking to be polite without waiting for any answering summons by either his wife or her over-animated servant.

  He sent up a silent prayer that Bess would not deny him entry this time as she had before, in a most haughty manner one other than Bess would be reprimanded for. He prayed the bouncy lass was not there at all. What a boon that would be.

  He laid his ear to the door, heard the muffled voices of the two women across the chamber, and growled.

  That was it then, he wouldn’t knock.

  A smile curved his lips as his hand closed around the door handle and he entered without announcing himself. He was in no mood to continue this any longer.

  Hugh marched in and clasped his hands at his back.

  Catriona sat in a low-backed seat by the fire, and Bess stood behind her, brushing through her mistress's hair. Each paused and stared at him with a small amount of surprise, and neither looked entirely pleased with his presence.

  "Are you injured?" Hugh asked briskly.

  Catriona straightened and stared. She lifted a brow and tapped a delicate finger on the chair arm. "Do'na you think that question would have been more appropriate had you posed it hours ago?"

  "Perhaps I would have asked the question if you hadn’t been so busy accusing me of adultery. Again. Nothing will ruin a marriage faster than distrust and accusations." He looked to Bess. "Leave us."

  Bess set the brush aside and dipped into a curtsy before skirting around her mistress and then Hugh, casting a loathsome glower at him before departing, closing the door after herself.

  Catriona remained seated but shifted on the stool, his hard stare coaxing some apprehension from her. She glared at him nonetheless. "Distrust, accusations, and adultery will do that to a marriage."

  Hugh laughed and shook his head, placing his hands on his hips and gripping tightly. Perhaps coming here was a mistake, as he could not see her all too clearly and was forced to use all control not to sway. "I've no lain with another woman. I've told you that before, and 'tis the verra last time I shall tell you. The next time you accuse me, wife, I might be tempted to do that verra thing just to spite you."

  Her face fell, and her cheeks bloomed rosy. "You wouldn’t, no just to spite me."

  "Oh, aye. I would." It was only a threat. He would not tell her how right she was. Hugh came closer to her then, forcing her to tilt her head up to look at him. He stopped a few paces from her. "As you ken, during our travels we stopped on the lands of my cousin, Gabhran. I lent him men and my own sword in battle. Some of my men were lost. That is my reason for being in the village. I went to look after the families of the fallen, to assess their conditions and offer aid if needed."

  He watched her face drain of the high color in her cheeks, and she choked on contrition, as he had expected she would. A small satisfaction sparked in him.

  "Hugh," she started. Catriona stood from her seat and met him, reaching to take his hands in hers. "I am verra sorry." She looked down at his hands as she spoke. "I woke to a terrible rumor that morning, and then when I went to the kitchens to hear what was being said for myself…" She stopped and looked to the side in thought. "I suppose my jealousy got the better of me. I should have gone to you instead, which is what I intended to do when I left the keep that day. That didn’t go as planned." She looked to her slippers. "Then we argued, and everything turned worse and worse." She brought a palm to her forehead. "I really am sorry."

  He crooked a finger under her chin and lifted her stare to meet his. "Aye, you should have come to me." He frowned at her. "What rumor?"

  She shook her head and reached up to swipe tears from her eyes. "Rowena told Bess—" She broke off on a scoff. "Nay, she told everyone in the kitchens that you spent the evening cavorting through the village and ended up in her arms and soon she would be back in your bed permanently. She made it sound as though she would soon replace me, and hearing such frightened me. I still feel as though I am but a guest here, and with these attacks, an unwelcome guest who has brought more trouble than I am worth."

  Hugh pulled her against his chest and kissed her hair then. "Stop now. You're my wife, no a guest." He held her tighter. "No one is replacing you, believe me. No one has the knack for your brand of mischief, and I think I might be bored to death withoot the trouble you cause me." When her shoulders began to shake from her weeping, he shushed her. "I only jest. Besides, I do'na ken how a woman who was loved as thoroughly as I loved you can think I did that and then went on to cavort with an entire village." His chest rumbled with laughter.

  Catriona lifted her head from his chest. "Can you forgive me?"

  Hugh smiled before kissing the top of her head and pulling her into him. "Of course." He held her like that for several minutes. "Someone tried to take your life today, Catriona. 'Tis no something to take lightly. I expect after this you shall heed my warnings to stay within the keep for the time being." He sighed hard, thinking of wh
at had happened. What would have happened if Alaric had not been so close when he was? "Fate spared you this day, but tomorrow she may no be so kind, lass."

  "I ken that."

  "Leave Rowena to me. I will quell these rumors and her zealous attempts to return to a place she is no longer welcome. Her wagging tongue has invited scorn on her laird, and by making up these lies aboot me, she has posed a threat to my marriage. I can'na allow her to continue, and I shall see that she stops." He paused and lifted Catriona's head. "Believe me. I shall see the task done."

  Catriona rested her chin on his chest and looked up with glistening eyes. "You're drunk. I can smell the ale on you."

  Hugh ran his thumbs over her cheeks to dry her tears. "I tried to stay away, to be content with an alehorn in my hand, but I found that I'm no content at all withoot you in my arms, lass."

  Catriona's look was unimpressed. "Send her to work in the village."

  Hugh smiled. "And when my duties call me to the village, will you follow with questions of my loyalty?"

  Catriona frowned at him. "Nay, but there really is nowhere else for her to go, is there?"

  Hugh thought of Aine and how Gabhran had sent her away because of her treacherous nature. Her fate had not been kind, and Rowena's faults were no crime compared to Aine's. He would not see the woman turned out from the clan, but he would have her placed as far from him as possible. In time, she would surely forget him and move on.

  "Hugh?"

  "Hmm?"

  "Your duties—" Catriona lifted herself from him again and pulled back.

  "What of them?"

  "I spoke with a woman a few days ago. It seems the clan is somewhat disgruntled that you have no seen to matters left unattended in your absence."

  He lifted a brow and crossed his arms over his chest. "Go on."

  "Weel, apparently disputes have no been settled, that homes go withoot thatch, and overall the people feel they have no laird to guide them."

  He sighed. "And I suppose this business with Rowena has no helped matters. I need your help, lass. Assure them all will be set to rights soon enough. I'm here to stay now."

  Catriona nodded.

  "There's something else I wished to discuss with you."

  Catriona lifted a brow at him. "What is that?"

  "After your fall today, scouts were discovered far too near the keep for comfort. Truly, you could'na have picked a worse time to venture oot. Do you ken the danger you were in?"

  Catriona's hand went to her belly. "Whose scouts? The McAlison's? My uncle's?"

  Hugh shook his head. "I do'na ken. 'Tis important you heed me, Catriona."

  She scowled in vexation. "Aye," she said with a hint of ruefulness.

  "And why in heavens did you tell your cousin aboot the threat from Barnaby? The less people who ken of that, the easier it shall be to discern who may be a threat."

  Her head shot up, and she frowned at him. "I told no one. The king's secrecy was for a good reason, to keep Barnaby's plots from spreading, and I respected his caution in all ways. I did'na even tell Bess. Gillie, though…" She paused in thought, then waved the hint of Hugh's concern away. She clucked her tongue. "I shall speak with Gillie and warn him to keep his mouth shut."

  It was Hugh's turn to frown. He stared at her as he thought. If she had not told Gilbert, who had? He cleared his throat and decided to keep his fears to himself.

  "Has there been any news of Tamsin?" she asked. "I ken Alaric returned with some word, but then so much has happened since…" She trailed off.

  Hugh offered a smile to soothe her and brushed the top of her head with a kiss. "You are my only priority right now, but all Alaric returned with were unanswered questions."

  "And?" she asked, pulling back so she might look at him. Her worry was evident.

  "Is there any possibility Tamsin may yet be in hiding at the abbey?" Hugh asked.

  Catriona pulled back with a furrow to her brow. "I do'na ken for sure," she said, and left him to pace across the chamber, but Hugh didn’t let her go far.

  He met her and pulled her back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her, dropped a kiss to her neck. Her body sighed into his a brief moment before she pulled free and kept walking when he let go of her.

  Hugh growled. It seemed he would have to solve this problem with Tamsin just to get his wife to focus on him. He watched Catriona pace before the hearth, one hand covering her mouth, the other flattened over her belly. Her eyes were large with fright.

  He crossed his arms and cleared his throat to regain her attention. "But if she had left of her own accord—"

  She stopped in place. "If Sister Helen told Alaric that Tamsin was taken from the abbey by someone claiming to be ken of hers, then that is what happened. Or at least that’s what Sister Helen believed." She sighed, looking forward as she paced more. "I thought Tamsin would have left and found her own way home, or to safety somewhere, but perhaps after you stormed the place she was too frightened and is indeed in hiding as you suggested."

  She started pacing again, her step quickened. Back and forth she went. "Perhaps I should go to Atholl."

  Hugh snorted and shook his head. "Absolutely not."

  Hugh watched the feminine sway of her hips, less interested in the problems of the McLaren lass than in his wife. Catriona's hair fell loosely to her waist, the ends bouncing with her step. She looked breathtaking in the firelight, with a halo around her body.

  At last, Hugh stepped forward and met his wife, reaching out to take her by the shoulders before she plowed into him. A belated moment after she came to a halt, so lost in perplexed thought, she looked up at him.

  "Hugh," she started.

  "Och, lass." He knew what was to come, more pleading for things he was hesitant to do. He cupped her face. "I will do what I can to find your friend, but do'na expect me to siege every castle in Scotland and make enemies we can'na afford right now. Your uncle the king has men looking also. Do'na fret, Tamsin shall be found."

  Hesitantly, she shook her head. Even she could see his sound reasoning. "All right," she agreed, her voice breaking on a whisper.

  Hugh pulled her cheek against his chest and held her there, offering what comfort he could. Before Catriona distracted him further, he pulled her from him and held her at arm's length.

  "I do'na want you oot of doors any time soon, lass. I ken I gave my word you could take strolls under the protection of a guard, but do'na be angry. 'Tisn't safe now with the scouts being spotted."

  Her mouth fell open a little, and dismay entered her eyes. "I understand," she said a moment later.

  Hugh sighed, not liking to disappoint her so. "No news on the archer or the fletcher has been found as of yet either. Until we ken more aboot the scouts roaming around 'twould make me feel more at ease."

  "What aboot after a few days and no new threats? You can'na keep me inside forever, you ken."

  He shook his head. "Nay."

  A smile quirked her lips. "I'll give you something you want when you let me oot of the keep for a wee bit."

  Hugh bent to kiss her, his mouth claiming hers as he backed her toward the bed. "You'll give me something I want now methinks," he said with a chuckle.

  She offered no protest, and when the backs of her legs bumped the edge of the bed Hugh eased her down to cover her with his body. Her flinch under him and the sound of pain leaving her lips startled him, though.

  He pulled up and looked down on her with concern.

  She tried to hide a sharp wince, but she was in pain and Hugh immediately rolled to his side. "Are you all right?"

  She grimaced. "I am a wee bit sore from my tumble down the hill."

  "A wee bit? Do'na lie to me, lass. Did you see the healer?"

  She nodded. "And a hot bath helped soothe my aches, but with the cool of night in the air 'tis all but returned."

  Hugh sighed and dropped his head to her shoulder. Her fingers threaded through his hair in a gentle caress.

  "You have no idea how
verra badly I need you," Hugh muttered against her shoulder. Truth was, though, he would settle for holding her.

  She laughed. "Then making love to me shall be all that much better—" She paused, thinking, "perhaps tomorrow." Catriona bit her lip to hide a smile. "Aye, tomorrow I should be all better."

  Her smile was as gentle as her fingers roaming over his side, the soft touch near to putting him to sleep until she grazed the wound Alaric had given him the day before.

  "And then you can—" Catriona broke off with an alarmed look, hearing his hiss of pain, and she craned her neck to see his side where her fingers stilled over the bandage there. She gently lifted his tunic and then came up to sitting when she saw the dressing. "You are injured?"

  "Nay," Hugh said. "'Tis nothing but a wee accident from the training yard yesterday."

  She gave him a wry smile and bent over him to trail kisses up his side around the bandage.

  "Stop that, lass." A lusty groan escaped him. "You're killing me." He grunted and pulled her back where she had been. "If I must wait, then there shall be no tempting me beyond measure. At least allow me to hold you the night through." He kissed the top of her head.

  "Only if you insist," Catriona said, settling into his arms once more.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Rowena wished him to seek her out? Well, the wench would get her wish. Only she would receive nothing pleasant.

  Hugh woke early, Catriona's mention of his people's displeasure with him weighing heavily on his mind the night through. Rowena's hand in the matter came as an afterthought. She was something he could handle easily enough, and the sooner the better.

  After gently closing his wife's chamber door, Hugh stormed down into the hall and to the kitchens. His intent was unmasked as he came to a stop at the entrance, his eyes scanning the chamber coldly for the woman in question. The woman who had yet again caused Catriona pain.

  "Rowena," he said from the door.