Revenge (Book 3 of Lost Highlander series)

by Cassidy Cayman

  “Aye,” she said gloomily. Just her luck to have found a new age eighteenth century Highlander to love. “I’ll visualize the outcome I want to have happen,” she said, shaking her head.

  His eyes lit up. “That is what the books said to do,” he agreed.

  Piper tried not to laugh, and stood on her toes to kiss him. “I don’t know how anything that led me to you could be truly bad,” she said.

  He set out again through the trees and she walked along beside him, trying to keep her skirts from snagging on the thorny bushes and low hanging branches. He had succeeded in making her feel slightly better, but a miasma of unease continued to surround her.

  Lachlan stopped after another ten minutes of trudging, and pointed through the trees. She saw nothing but darkness, but trusted his highly honed senses. He motioned for her to stay put while he snuck up and got a better look at who had made the fire. She made a face that told him he was crazier than her by far, if he thought she was going to stay alone in the creepy woods for even five minutes. After a momentary scowl, he shrugged and nodded his chin for her to follow.

  When they got close enough for Piper to see the small banked fire and several men gathered around it, with one man pacing back and forth in an agitated manner, Lachlan stopped short and swore under his breath.

  He looked down at her. “”Tis possibly worse than we feared.”

  “Who is it?” she asked, thoughts racing to bandits or marauders, a whole team of wicked scoundrels who were under Daria’s control.

  “My brother,” he groaned.

  With a resigned look, he crashed the rest of the way to the fire. The men sitting around it all leapt to their feet, drawing various weapons, but Quinn had seen Lachlan before they did and slumped with relief, hastily waving his arms at them to sit back down. When they recognized Lachlan, they all visibly relaxed, and began to murmur excitedly to each other.

  “Dear God, but ye are an answer to prayer,” Quinn said, clapping Lachlan on the shoulder and looking like he might cry.

  “I have never seen ye so glad to see me,” Lachlan said, looking around at the heavily armed men with consternation. He gripped Quinn’s arm and moved him further away from the group. Piper ran after them, smiling a greeting at Quinn, who gave her a tense but sweet smile in return. “Did I no’ tell ye to get back home as quick as ye may?” he asked.

  “Aye, and we did,” Quinn said. He wiped his hand over his face. “But yer addle pated idiot from the future has ruined everything.”

  “Pietro?” Piper interrupted, eager to have news of him. “Is he all right?”

  “He is sick in the head, and a pain in my arse,” Quinn said bitterly.

  Lachlan started to say something but Piper put her hand on his arm to stop him.

  “Sick in the head?” she repeated. “Do you mean crazy, or he gets headaches?” She looked meaningfully at Lachlan and his face fell, echoing the feeling in her stomach. They hadn’t even considered that Pietro might get sick.

  Quinn threw up his hands. “Both,” he said. “He seems to get better, but then worsens again. He acted like he could barely walk or I would have shackled the foolhardy simpleton.”

  “He gets better?” she asked, keeping her hand on Lachlan’s arm. They needed all the information they could get about all the various aspects of traveling. She was kicking herself for not having thought of it before they left him here. “Is there a reason or a pattern that you can tell?”

  Quinn nodded and thought about her question seriously before answering, then shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was going to say. “It seems that the lass’s affections make him stronger for a bit.”

  Oh, this was interesting. Evie was going to eat this right up when she told her. “Her affections?” she repeated. Quinn shrugged and looked embarrassed. Piper realized what he meant and flushed. “Oh. But then he got worse again?”

  He nodded. “Bella isna exactly …” he trailed off and looked at the tree branches rustling overhead. “She isna always so verra caring, I suppose ye could say. I canna be sure, but it seemed her proximity had a healing effect on him.”

  Piper turned to Lachlan. “Did that happen to you, before we found out about the pendant?”

  He looked as put on the spot as if she’d asked him if her gown made her ass look fat. “I dinna remember,” he stammered. “We hadna yet …”

  She rolled her eyes and reached for Lachlan’s pendant. He leaned down so she could pull it over his head and she held it out for Quinn to see. “He needs this, in case true love isn’t enough,” she said. “Where is he?” she asked, looking around.

  It was just Quinn and four men sitting around the fire. No sign of Pietro or Bella.

  “The bloody tosser has run off after Bella, and probably gotten himself and all of us killed,” Quinn said, starting up his pacing again. Lachlan grabbed his arm to stop him, completely confused.

  “Start at the beginning lad,” he said in an encouraging tone that melted Piper’s heart.

  From her few observations of them together, she had thought that Lachlan was too hard on his brother and it was nice to see him showing some patience, even in light of things seeming to be fairly badly screwed.

  Quinn told them a harrowing tale of being ambushed on the road and having to hide at Quinn and Lachlan’s aunt’s farm while Pietro tried to regain his strength. Bella was either taken by force or ran away back to Castle Glen, and without Lachlan, they had no recourse to claim her. Rather than start a war, they had decided to just let her go.

  “But then the daft, brainless bugger took off a few hours ago and we have no’ seen hide nor hair of him since, but the men have been watching the castle and something has them quite stirred up down there.”

  Lachlan was silent for a long moment, while Piper wanted to scream. Finally, he put his hands on her shoulders, looking apologetically into her eyes.

  “My love,” he said. “I am verra sorry, but I must go collect my wife.”

  Chapter 15

  Pietro trailed his hand along the wall as he stumbled forward in the pitch dark, sure at any moment he’d be smashed in the face by a low beam or unlit hanging lantern. The passage was narrow. He could hold out his hands and touch either side without straightening his arms, and their breathing echoed around them, along with the muffled sounds of their feet on the dusty floor. Bella skittered confidently ahead of him as if she had night vision.

  “Do ye come through this often?” he asked, feeling as if he had just used the world’s oldest pickup line in the world’s strangest context.

  The dark closeness didn’t mix well with his headache and he couldn’t wait to breathe fresh air again.

  “When I was a wee lass, my cousins and I roamed the passages all the time,” she said, her voice floating back and getting lost behind him. He turned around to make sure he hadn’t somehow overtaken her, but it was just a trick of his fever and he kept walking. “My father does no’ even know about all of them,” she said.

  Good, he thought, hoping this would buy them some time. Even with all the things she had demanded her maid go fetch for her, they wouldn’t have long before she was discovered missing and a search party dispatched.

  “I wish ye had been a crofter’s daughter,” he muttered.

  She laughed and stopped so that he walked right into her. “Me too,” she said, sliding her arms around his middle and pulling him close. “All the time.”

  He ran his hands up her arms and neck, carefully cupping the sides of her face. In the dark, her skin seemed even softer and he stroked the edges of her jaw, enjoying the velvety smoothness beneath his fingers.

  She sighed and he twined his fingers into her hair, leaning down slowly to kiss her. Their noses bumped, then he felt her full lips parting against his as he tilted her head back to delve more deeply into her mouth.

  She pulled away and rested her head against his shoulder. “When ye first said ye loved me, ye seemed so resigned,” she said, running her fingers up an
d down his back. “I thought ye may have been under the witch’s spell.” Her voice sounded tentative and it squeezed at his heart.

  He ran his hands from her shoulders to her waist and gripped her fiercely, hoping to convey his feelings through his fingertips. “Piper isn’t a witch,” he insisted. “And I wasn’t resigned, I was certain. As I am still.” He pulled her close, so their bodies touched from top to toe.

  “I believe ye now,” she said. “Ye gave up an easy life under the Ferguson’s protection, and ye came back for me.” She stopped her declaration abruptly, tugging at his kilt. “Ye dinna kill anyone to get this, did ye?” she asked.

  He laughed, which turned into a fit of coughing. “Just hit him and hogtied him,” he said when he was recovered.

  “We must get out of the tunnel,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him along at a fearsome pace. “We shall get ye well, once and for all when we are settled together.”

  He closed his eyes and let her lead him through the long, endlessly winding passageway, buoyed by her new dedication. She still hadn’t said she loved him, but he was going to ignore it, for she had said they were going to be together and that was enough to make the dark closed space seem like the sunniest meadow.

  Until they continued to walk for another eternity, twisting around corners, going up, then going down. In his mind, he calculated the distance from the castle to the lake, sure they must have gone further than that. If Bella hadn’t been in the passage in over a year maybe things had changed or she was misremembering. They had reached such a happy, tentative understanding between them that he didn’t want to act like he didn’t trust her, but he was beginning to feel like they were going to die down here, underground, in the dark.

  Finally, she stopped and began kicking at what sounded like wood boards. When a crack of dim light appeared, he hurried to help her pry open the small door, then stepped aside while she squeezed through it. He looked at the opening, barely larger than a cupboard door and knew he would never fit.

  “Stop panicking.”

  He heard her muffled voice from the other side of the wall and laughed. “I’m not quite panicking yet,” he called back.

  After some scraping and scuffling from the other side, she swung open the wall in its entirety, a huge grin on her dust smeared face. He squeezed through and wiped a smudge of dirt off her nose, then kissed the spot where it had been.

  They were in a tool shed, barely lit by the light of the moon glowing through a single window. They replaced all the things she had moved aside to open the passage door, then got out into the open. Huddling behind the shed, they sat close together for warmth.

  They were far enough from the castle to feel safe for the moment but still too near by half for Pietro’s liking. He heard some distant shouting and his stomach sank.

  “I think they’ve realized,” he said.

  “I believe their first thought will be that I’ve managed to take a horse and run off that way. I think my maid is too daft to believe ye had any part of it, so they may just be looking for me.”

  “Ye forget the man I left tied up in the stable,” he said.

  Her lip quivered. “I think I may be the one panicking here in a wee bit,” she admitted, tears sparkling in her eyes.

  He hugged her. “Ah, bugger,” he said. “Quinn’s men are in the forest still.” He shut his eyes, trying to think. “I can’t let them come looking for me and walk right into a fight. I think I should go back and warn them to get home as quick as they can.”

  “Perhaps they’ll give us a horse,” she said, not looking very hopeful.

  Pietro knew she was thinking of all the times she’d been an absolute nightmare to Quinn. Judging solely by the state of Quinn’s mood when Pietro ran off, it was likely he would just throw a sack over her head and dump her at her father’s feet.

  “I’m going to have to go on my own,” he said regretfully, wincing at the scared, hurt look in her eyes. “We couldn’t find Lachlan,” he explained, wiping away her tears. “They don’t want to start a clan war.” He looked down. “I have no claim to ye, except what is in my heart,” he said sadly. “I don’t want to risk them taking you back, but I do have to at least warn them to get out of here.”

  He stood up and pulled her to her feet. She didn’t think the guards would think of the passage, but he didn’t want to risk it and have them coming out to the shed to search. He’d find a safe spot for her to hide in the woods, then come back for her when he was done speaking to Quinn.

  He only prayed she wouldn’t be so capricious as to run off again, because then he really would wring her neck.

  Chapter 16

  Lachlan rode out with two men flanking him, a grim look on his face as he nodded goodbye to her from his seat high in the saddle. Quinn led her to sit by the fire and gave her a blanket to put over her legs. She rubbed the healing amulet between her fingers and numbly stared into the flames.

  “Will my brother no’ need this to keep him well?” he asked, taking the engraved disc from her and inspecting it.

  The coppery gold strands of hair that fell across his face gleamed in the firelight, which also glinted off the pendant as he turned it, his expression shuttered and suspicious. His handsome face was so like Lachlan’s she could barely look at him without her breath catching in her throat. Being separated from him again, even if it was only supposed to be a short time, rode over her nerves like a runaway train.

  “I can make him another when we get home,” she said morosely, twisting her empty fingers together.

  He started at her words and handed the pendant back to her, a look of queasy distrust on his face. She noticed he wiped his hand on the edge of his kilt and she sank deeper into her despair. Quinn was afraid of her.

  “Is that where ye were these days?” he asked. “The future? Yer own time, I mean to say.”

  “Yes,” she said, stifling a sniffle. “Oh, Quinn. Everything’s so messed up.”

  “That it is,” he agreed.

  She sat there feeling lost without Lachlan and riddled with tension that they weren’t actively seeking out Magnus. Every minute dragged like an eternity that he was without his mother. Her imagination kept running away from her, and she couldn’t stop a steady stream of horrible thoughts from flying through her mind, as to what Daria might be doing.

  She had hoped Quinn might at least try to cheer her up. She’d overheard him complaining about her beastly many times great-grandmother and what a bother she’d been while he helped Lachlan saddle a horse. He had wanted to just ditch her and go home. She was glad Pietro had gone after her, poor girl. She was a little brat, but certainly didn’t deserve to be locked up by her father just because the man was too proud to admit he had made a bad marriage for her.

  As if being married to Lachlan was a bad choice. Oh, she longed for the day that he could get an annulment and be completely hers. She knew the marriage was in name only, and Lachlan had no feelings whatsoever for Bella. His only motivation in marrying her in the first place was to try to keep Piper on track to being born, but it still rankled.

  Quinn reached over and placed his hand on her arm and her spirits lifted a fraction, but then she heard a rustling in the bushes on the other side of the camp. Tightening his grip on her arm, Quinn tilted his head to the trees behind him, signalling her to run and hide if necessary. She nodded and Quinn stood up, drawing his sword.

  “It’s just me,” Pietro hissed, popping his head over the top of the shrubs.

  Piper ran to him and hugged him, pulling him close to the fire when she felt how cold and clammy his skin was. He was gaunt and pale, his bruises faded to yellow and green smudges in his hollow face, dark shadows under his tired, glazed eyes.

  “Here,” she said, tugging the pendant over his head. She pushed it under the collar of his shirt and pressed it hard against his chest. “It’ll help you,” she said, praying it would work.

  Pietro looked at her like she was out of her mind, and began to pull away, but then
she saw his face relax into a wondering smile.

  “What is that thing?” he asked. “My headache is going away. I can actually feel it going away.”

  She covered her face to keep from crying tears of relief. At least one thing was going right. “It’s a protection amulet,” she explained. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of it before.” She looked back to the bushes. “Where’s Bella? Weren’t you able to get her out?”

  Pietro looked narrowly at Quinn before answering. “Aye, I got her. But she’s not here. I didn’t want Quinn to send her back.” A look of dawning comprehension crossed his face. “Is Lachlan back as well? That’ll solve everything.”

  “No,” said Quinn darkly. “As he’s already gone to fetch her.”

  “But she isn’t there anymore,” Pietro said, realizing why Quinn was glaring at him.

  He looked at Piper, but she just shook her head. Quinn stomped off, a string of curses flowing from his lips. Piper was shocked at the instructional nature of the long tirade and stared wide eyed at Pietro.

  He shrugged. “It’s a stress release for him,” he said.

  When Quinn settled down, he returned and sat down opposite Pietro and Piper. “Things are no’ going to go well when Lachlan demands his wife and she is gone.”

  He looked very much like he wanted to take a swing at Pietro and Piper placed a soothing hand on his arm.

  “Why don’t we just go get Bella and all go down there and settle it nicely.”

  Quinn laughed while Pietro shouted his disagreement to that suggestion.

  “I don’t want her going back there,” he said. “She and I are going to set out on our own for Edinburgh. All we need is a horse.”

  Piper watched as Quinn nodded calmly. Too calmly, she thought, wondering if he was one of those people who made rash decisions like murdering someone, then carried them out as if it were a trip to the grocery store. She moved closer to Pietro and Quinn laughed again.