My Highland Lover (Highland Hearts)

by Maeve Greyson

  Karma immediately relaxed, lowered his head and ran to Trulie with an I-was-just-trying-to-protect-you whine.

  “I know,” Trulie crooned as she hugged the dog to her chest. Thank goodness she had been gifted with a guardian—especially one like Karma. Not all time runners were so blessed. Only the eldest daughters received animal spirit guides. Thank goodness for birth order. The irony of the situation wasn’t wasted. Before, she’d always hated being the oldest. As Trulie stared at the broken crockery, a plan unfolded in her mind. “You know”—Trulie waggled a brow at Granny—“this could be a good thing.”

  Granny pursed her lips then glanced from the mess back to Trulie. “We’re the only ones who know you didn’t taste that water.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Whoever brought the water here will be watching for results.” Granny barely tapped her chin as she circled the puddle.

  “Yep.” Trulie nodded again.

  “We can make this work.” Granny paced faster now, excitedly rubbing her hands together.

  “That’s what I’m thinking.” Trulie circled the table and surveyed the room. “So, you think I need to be found on the floor beside the mess, or should I make a fuss and take to my bed because I feel sick?”

  “That’s the problem.” Granny squatted down and scowled at the wet floor. “We don’t know what kind of poison they used, so we have no idea of how it would affect you.”

  “Can you smell anything?” Trulie inhaled a deep breath. Nothing smelled suspicious to her.

  Granny leaned forward and took a hesitant sniff. She waited a moment, sniffed again, and then shook her head. “No. I can’t make out any kind of smell. It just smells like wet floor to me.”

  Trulie picked up a shard of the broken crockery and brought it close to her face. Karma grumbled his disapproval as she touched the tip of her tongue to the damp side of the fired clay.

  The taste made her turn and spit. As she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, she noticed her lips were already getting numb. “Yuck. The taste reminds me of old almonds. It’s so bitter the unknowing drinker wouldn’t swallow much, and judging by the way my lips already feel, it wouldn’t take much to be effective.”

  Granny’s expression darkened into a thoughtful scowl. “Cyanide.” She turned and glared back down at the puddle.

  “Cyanide? In the thirteenth century?”

  Granny dismissed Trulie’s statement with a wave of her hand. “Organic cyanide has been around for centuries and is easily attainable.”

  Seriously? Trulie gingerly dropped the contaminated bit of pottery back to the floor. “How do you know so much about cyanide?”

  “It’s not important.” Granny’s tone implied Trulie really didn’t want to know how Granny had come by such information. “And since they used that dad-blasted poison, our little charade is going to be a bit more difficult.”

  “Fast acting and deadly, huh?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Granny confirmed. “Especially if mixed strong enough to numb your lips with barely a drop.”

  Trulie motioned Karma to the opposite side of the room, snatched a cup from the table and stretched out on the floor beside the puddle of poison. “Well, maybe we can make them think they didn’t mix it right, so it wouldn’t kill me right away.”

  Granny bent over Trulie, spit in her hand, and wiped her wet fingers against Trulie’s cheek.

  “Damn, Granny. That’s just gross!” Trulie cringed, shying away as Granny spit in her hand again.

  “You have to look like you were drinking the water when you collapsed. How else am I going to make your face look wet? I can’t use that.” Granny nodded toward the poison and reached for Trulie’s face again.

  Trulie grabbed Granny’s wrist and held it away from her face. “My face is wet enough. Now just go stir up a panic so we can see how everyone reacts.”

  “You know we’re going to have to make Gray believe it too,” Granny said as she wiped her hand on her skirt. “He’s not going to be happy when he finds out we fooled him.”

  “He’ll get over it.” Trulie yanked her skirts free and assumed the most likely position of someone who collapsed from poison. She closed her eyes and motioned toward the door. “I’m ready. Let’s rumble.”

  —

  Gray hit the door at full force, barreling into the room as the door bounced against the wall with a resounding bang. He didna give a damn. All he knew was Granny had sent word that Trulie had collapsed. A knot of fear choked off his air as he pounded into the room.

  Karma lashed out like a rabid animal, lunging toward him as Gray moved closer. Teeth bared and hackles raised, the protective dog stood watch over his mistress. The animal’s reaction fanned Gray’s fear into near panic. Lore, dinna let her be dead. Any direction Gray moved, Karma mirrored it.

  “Ye must let me pass,” Gray warned as he slid his dirk from its sheath in one slow, smooth movement. He would do his best not to hurt the dog, but Gray would be damned straight to hell before he allowed the animal to prevent him from reaching Trulie. She looked so pale, even the pink of her lips had taken an odd hue. “Allow me to help her, Karma. Ye ken I willna harm her.”

  A softer warning growl clicked deeper in the dog’s throat. Karma hunkered down, ready to pounce as he hesitantly eased back a mere body length away from Trulie.

  Every muscle tensed for attack, Gray slid over to Trulie without breaking eye contact with the dog. He passed the dagger to his left hand, keeping the tip pointed toward the dog as he reached for Trulie with his right.

  So cold. Gray pressed his fingers harder against her throat, letting out a relieved breath as a strong, steady heartbeat met his touch. Trulie’s pale, clammy skin concerned him. The rise and fall of her chest was too rapid, too shallow to satisfy her need for air.

  Gray glanced at the dog one last time as he slid the knife back into its sheath. “Stand down, lad. I mean to place her in her bed.”

  Karma relaxed back a step. The dog no longer bared his teeth, but his hackles were still raised. Gray felt the dog’s gaze upon him as he scooped Trulie up into his arms.

  As Gray stood, Trulie’s head fell back, her mouth sagged open, and her limp arms swung free. What the hell had happened to her? Rage pounded through Gray. Vengeance burned through his veins with every beat of his heart. Be they god or be they human, whoever caused his woman such harm would rue this act if it took him an eternity to find them.

  Gray lowered Trulie into the softness of the bed, holding his breath to keep from roaring out his anger as he straightened her head on the pillows. With a shaking hand, he smoothed a silky curl away from her damp forehead. He traced the backs of his fingers across her cheek. “What the hell happened, mo chridhe?” he whispered. “Pray tell me who did this to ye?”

  Trulie didn’t move. Her breathing seemed more shallow.

  Gray looked up as Granny and Coira hurried into the room. “Tell me.” Gray struggled to keep from shouting. “Tell me everything so I might seek revenge.”

  Granny barely shook her head as she clasped her hands in front of her waist. “I sent for you as soon as I found her lying on the floor.”

  Gray eased down on the bed beside Trulie. He kept one hand resting atop her motionless arm and nodded toward Granny. “Me love said ye ken how t’heal as she does. Come. Lay yer hands upon her. Ye must make her well.”

  Granny’s chin quivered and her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t,” she whispered with a trembling shake of her head. “It’s a rare occasion when the Fates allow us to heal our own bloodline.” Granny wheezed out a shaking sigh. “And I already tried.”

  “Ye lie!” Gray roared as he sprang toward Granny. He’d make her lay her hands on Trulie. He’d force the power through her. By the gods, he’d no’ allow his love t’die.

  Karma leapt forward, both front paws slamming into Gray’s chest. The dog’s bared teeth snapped at the end of Gray’s nose. The heat of the beast’s lungs blasted Gray’s face as Karma’s guttural snarls shook
his body.

  Granny rushed forward, pushing her slight body between the enraged pair. “Enough. Both of you.” Granny yanked down on Karma’s ear at the same time she pounded a shaking fist to the center of Gray’s chest. “This doesn’t help Trulie.”

  Gray forced the hand clenched about Karma’s still-vibrating throat to slowly relax. Granny was right. Trulie loved Karma. He could nay kill the beast, especially when it was the animal’s love for his mistress ruling his actions. Gray pushed off from the dog and stepped back.

  Granny nodded toward Coira. “Go find Tamhas and Colum. Alert them the keep is no longer safe.” Then she turned to the still-rumbling dog. “You go with her. Protect her, Karma. I will stay here with Trulie.”

  The dog shook, then growled a grudging acquiescence as he followed Coira out of the room.

  Granny remained silent until the door clicked shut behind them. “All right, Trulie. Time to clue Gray in before he goes on a bloody rampage and kills an innocent bystander—namely your dog or me.”

  Trulie’s eyes popped open as she sat up and grinned at Gray.

  Gray stumbled and sat back down on the bed to keep from falling to his knees. “What the…” Gray looked up, mouth still open. A strange mixture of relief, confusion, and a sudden certainty he was about to get sorely vexed hit him dead center.

  He snatched Trulie up by the shoulders and gritted his teeth against the urge to shake her. “Are ye tryin’ t’kill me, woman? What the hell kind of game are ye playin’ at?”

  “We discovered someone put poison in the water. We want them to think they almost succeeded in getting rid of me.” Trulie gently pulled herself out of Gray’s grasp and sat cross-legged in the center of the bed. “That way we should be able to catch who did it just by watching how everyone reacts.”

  Gray didna ken if it was the plotting gleam in Trulie’s eyes or the matter-of-fact tone of her voice that fanned his rage even more. He yanked her up by the shoulders again and this time shook her hard. T’hell with attempting to control his ire. “Ye scared damn near ten years off me. Did ye no’ even think how I might feel when I thought ye would surely die?”

  Trulie started to speak—

  Gray jerked her again. “I’ve half a mind t’redden yer arse wi’ the flat a me hand until ye canna sit. What the hell were ye thinkin’?”

  Trulie dug her nails into his forearms and hissed an enraged whisper, “Shut. Up. The plan won’t work if you bellow it across the Highlands.”

  Granny ran to the door, pulled it open, and checked the outer sitting room. After a few moments, she quietly eased it shut and lowered the crossbar into the latch. As she hastened back to the bedside, she patted her hands together. “It’s okay. There’s no one out there. But Trulie’s right. You need to keep your voice down.”

  Gray stared first at Granny, then back at Trulie in disbelief. Had both women lost their minds? With an irritated growl, Gray tossed Trulie back against the pillows. “I ought t’have ye both flogged.”

  “Would you swallow that hardheaded Highland pride of yours for about five seconds? Think about what I just said. It makes perfect sense.” Trulie scooted to the center of the bed and yanked her clothes back in place. “Holy crap, Gray. Don’t you know the best way to catch a murderer is to use their target for bait?”

  Gray stomped to the far side of the room. Better to put a bit of distance between himself and the sharp-tongued woman he had been foolish enough to love. He turned and jabbed a finger back at Trulie. “If ye ever put a scare in me like that again…” Gray’s voice trailed off. He didna ken what he would do but he’d damn well make sure Trulie wouldna like it.

  Trulie slid off the bed and padded over to Gray. She stopped a few feet in front of him and held out her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, but the fewer people who know the truth, the more effective the trap.” She wiggled her fingers and nodded toward the bed. “Come back over and sit down. We’ll fill you in on the details.”

  Gray glared down at Trulie’s small upturned palm. So soft. So tiny. How could a mere slip of a woman cause such a stir? Gray shifted his attention to Trulie’s eyes. The emotions shining in their depths pulled at his heart and answered the silent question.

  Gray blew out an exhausted breath and scrubbed a hand across his face as he slid the other into Trulie’s grasp. She owned him—body and soul. He might as well accept the fact and admit defeat. “So tell me of this grand plan devised by the Sinclair women.”

  —

  Trulie wanted to move so badly she could barely stand it. Her nose itched. Her feet were cold, and if she had to lie on top of that lump in the mattress much longer her tailbone would be sore for days. But the whooshing sound of rustling skirts and the occasional thump of moving furniture told her she best keep her eyes shut and remain motionless. Maidservant Beala was still in the room.

  Karma grumbled a low warning from his post at the head of the bed. Trulie could tell from the closeness of his rumble that the dog was standing as close to the bed as he could get, with his head about even with hers. Thank you, Karma. She’d be lost without him. Actually, she would be dead.

  “Dinna worry, me braw beastie. I mean the mistress no harm.”

  Beala’s high-pitched voice sounded a few feet from the bed. Her accent was thicker than most of those in the keep. Trulie figured Beala must have come to the MacKenna clan from another region of Scotland. Trulie visualized Beala rambling about the room with her odd rolling gait. For some strange reason, the spindly girl moved about like a chimpanzee. It wouldn’t have surprised Trulie if the girl took to dropping to all fours just so she could move faster. But whatever the reason she walked the way she did, Beala didn’t let the infirmity slow her down. Trulie had seen the girl on several occasions outdistance the other maids even with her arms filled with linens.

  Geez, I wish she would hurry up. I need to pee. Trulie concentrated on breathing in slow, shallow breaths and opened her senses to the room. Maybe she could pick up a vision off the girl. Beala had the run of the keep. Maybe she had some residual energy clinging to her.

  Resentment. Frustration. Anger. Trulie held the next shallow inhale and focused harder. Excitement. Revenge. Worry. Her lungs burned for want of more air. She pulled in the slightest breath and eased it out again. The emotions bouncing off Beala were not what she expected. This was no residual energy. Emotions projecting with such vibrancy could only come from Beala’s core.

  The soft click of the chamber door interrupted her musings. Trulie held her breath again and listened hard. A weight sank the mattress down beside her, nearly rolling her off the bed. A large furry foot pawed repeatedly at her arm. Trulie cracked an eyelid to a black wet nose just inches from her face.

  “So she’s gone?”

  Karma agreed with a soft woof and slathered his tongue from Trulie’s jawline all the way up to her eyebrows.

  “I love you too, Karma,” Trulie giggled as she dodged more doggie kisses and shoved him down from the edge of the bed.

  “I daresay yer scheme willna work if yer giggling is heard down the hallway.”

  Trulie pointed at the door as she scrambled out of the bed. “Watch the door. I need to pee.”

  Grinning, Gray folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the now bolted entrance. “Do ye now? Pray what would ye have done if I had not come to sit with ye?”

  Trulie dropped down on all fours and reached under the bed for the chamber pot. “I would’ve improvised,” she grunted as she patted the floor and stretched for the handle. “Who shoved the thing so far back? I don’t know if I can reach it or not.” If she didn’t get that bowl soon, there was going to be a puddle on the floor.

  Trulie peered under the bed, gauged the exact distance of the curved handle, and reached for it again. Finally. Her fingers curled around the smooth, glazed handle and she pulled the pot out from under the bed.

  As she stood, her gaze fell on Gray’s impish expression. “Turn around,” she said as she twirled a f
inger in the air. “I can’t pee if you’re watching.”

  Gray didn’t move—his smile just brightened clear to his eyes.

  “Gray!” Trulie stomped her foot. Wow. Big mistake. Note to self: don’t stomp foot with an overfull bladder due to possible spillage. Trulie clamped her thighs together. “Turn. Around. Now,” she ordered through clenched teeth.

  “What will ye gi’ me?” Gray asked with a pointed look up and down her body.

  Trulie knew exactly where this was going and it wasn’t gonna happen. Since her self-imposed comatose state had begun, all love play had stopped. She didn’t like it either, but they couldn’t risk it. All they needed was a wayward servant to pass by and overhear them shouting hallelujah to the orgasm gods.

  “We could be quiet,” Gray cajoled in a seductive tone.

  “We have never been quiet,” Trulie retorted as she short-stepped over to a massive oak wardrobe and yanked open the door. “If you’re not gonna turn around, I’m gonna climb in here to pee.”

  “Fine,” Gray sighed as he rolled away from the door and faced the wall. “Do what ye must, but ’tis a sorry day when a man’s betrothed willna grant him the divine pleasure only she can give.”

  Trulie snorted an irritated huff as she hiked her shift up to her waist and squatted over the pot. Finally. Blessed relief. She propped her chin in her hands as she waited to finish. “You just need to think about how great it’s gonna be when all this is over.”

  “Och, I have,” Gray replied in a strained voice. “Trust me, mo chridhe, I have.”

  Poor Gray. Trulie clamped her mouth shut against the urge to giggle. Her frustrated love stood facing the door, hands propped over his head and feet slightly spread. Gray looked as though he was waiting to be patted down and searched for weapons.

  The hang of his plaid seductively outlined the muscular curve of his hip. The way Gray leaned forward gave Trulie quite a nice view. The corded muscles of his arms flexed as he lightly drummed his fingers against the wood.

  Damn. It had been a long few days of self-imposed celibacy. Trulie wet her lips and squirmed in place. Lordy, she ached for him too.