Highland Lies (The Band of Cousins Book 4)

by Keira Montclair

  All she’d wanted was a friend.

  Roddy circled around her, stilling her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Nay, you’ll not leave me after that revelation. I wish to know more, Rose. Something odd is going on here. I’m not sure if you’re involved, but if so, I’d like to help. What can you tell me?”

  His brow arched in a way that stretched the scar near his eye. She wanted to ask him how he had gained such a mark, but she couldn’t. Her hand reached out for his cheek and he took a step closer before freezing in place, his gaze locked on hers as the tips of her fingertips touched his flesh.

  She gasped at the contact. His skin was warm and rough from his shorn beard. She retreated with uncertainty, but he nodded and reached for her hand, cupping it inside his and bringing it back to his cheek.

  “Don’t pull away. I like your touch. Your skin is verra soft.” He smiled and she sighed at how handsome the smile made him, his white teeth shining in the dark of the night.

  Deciding to be bold, she took a step closer and brought her thumb up to trace the scar near his eye. She rubbed across the shiny skin, now pale against the bronze of his sun-darkened face, and arched her brows in question at him.

  “Ah, my scar puzzles you.” He rubbed the back of his hand down her cheek. “The oddest part of that scar is I don’t recall how I earned it. Probably sparring with one of my cousins. I have many of them and we loved swordplay at a young age.”

  She slowly moved her lips just as he had, “Cousins?” though no sound came out.

  “Aye, I have many male cousins, and we all fought to be just like our sires and uncles. We practiced to be warriors so we would be ready to fight to defend our clan when the time came.” He was quiet for a long moment, as if considering something, then said, “I don’t know how or why, but mayhap however I came by this scar is the reason I have a fear of dying.” He stared off at the moon, his eyes darkened with pain. “Every time battle is imminent, fear takes away my ability to think, to reason, to keep my emotion in check. ’Tis most dangerous, that much I know.”

  Fascinated with this man, she nodded, encouraging him to continue.

  He said, “I’m a warrior for one of the strongest Highland clans, the Grants, and I’m scared every time I draw my sword. I watched my cousin Braden in the last battle we fought, and I could have heaved from watching the risks he took. What if I get sick in front of all the other warriors? What if I pass out or drop to the ground in fear? I’ll tell you, I’d be an embarrassment to my sire and my uncle and my cousins…”

  He paused, his hands now on his hips, his gaze on the rocks below. Had he assumed she was contemplating a jump because he’d considered taking his own life? The thought made her shudder.

  She continued to gaze at him, giving him the opportunity to ease his burden if speaking his fear aloud could do that. Though he was clearly ashamed, she imagined the fear he felt was quite normal. Her sire had fought a battle in England, and he’d often told her about how it had affected him.

  “If I embarrass my clan, I’ll be forced to go into hiding, which I do not want. My only hope is that I’ll be able to hide my fears well.” He jerked his gaze back to hers, his hand now moving up to her cheek. “My thanks to you for listening.” He brushed the back of his hand across her cheek. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you, Rose MacDole?”

  She shook her head briefly to indicate she was confused, so he cupped her cheeks and said, “You are so beautiful that I long to kiss you. Would you allow it?”

  She nodded, certain that this kiss would be different from the first kiss she’d experienced, one that had been forced upon her. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her. A brisk wind came up and the hoot of an owl called to them. Roddy was so handsome he nearly took her breath away.

  His lips descended on hers. She didn’t know how to react but followed his lead, moving the same way he did. His tongue touched the seam of her lips and she parted them hesitantly, surprised at the feel of his tongue invading her mouth. Surprise turned to passion as she got her first taste of this man, as sweet as a freshly picked apple. An odd sound came from Roddy, much like the growl of an animal, and he tugged her closer, the hard planes of his abdomen and his chest melding with her curves so they almost felt as one person. Her cheeks grew warm, and her breathing turned raspy and out of control. Sadly, he ended the kiss rather abruptly, but then gave her two more soft kisses.

  “Rose MacDole, you make me take leave of my senses. I came here to meet you but for another reason as well.” She lost her balance when they separated, her knees weak, but he caught her. “I’m glad I affect you as well.”

  Saddened that they had separated, she reached up to touch the heat of his lips. Still, she knew it wasn’t wise to be outside with a strange man. If her mother were to see them…

  “My cousin Connor headed down to explore the shoreline of the loch. Would you take me down there? We’re on a mission. Boats are selling cargo from a loch in this area, and we wish to see if ‘tis this one.”

  She nodded and took his hand, leading him down the path that led to the cave. This time she took a different turn when they were nearly at the base of the cliff. They hadn’t gone far when the outline of a tall man appeared in the moonlight.

  Rose pivoted and mouthed, “Your cousin?”

  “Aye, ’tis Connor.”

  They found their way over to him and took him by surprise, the noise of the waves drowning out the sound of their approach. Roddy introduced them, and Rose gave him a warm smile. He was taller than Roddy, though not as handsome. His hair was as dark as hers.

  Roddy quickly added, “Rose can hear you, but she cannot speak. I’ll explain later.”

  Connor quirked his brow, glancing at his cousin, but rather than comment, he turned to her and said, “Rose, there’s a dock just a bit south of here. Do you ever see it used?”

  She nodded, pointing to the moon. Connor glanced at Roddy, apparently confused. “At night?” he asked. “You’ve only seen it used at night?”

  Roddy moved to stand in front of her. “Do you use it? Your steward?”

  She shook her head and then shrugged her shoulders, hoping her meaning came through. Her steward didn’t use it, but she didn’t know who did.

  “We’re going to ask you a few questions,” Roddy said. “Just indicate aye or nay.” He still held her hand, and she was pleased he hadn’t stopped this small intimacy when they came upon Connor.

  It made no sense given their short acquaintance, but Roddy Grant made her feel safe and protected.

  He continued, “How often do you see a boat?”

  Roddy shook his head and said, “Aye or nay, Connor. Do they come once a sennight?”

  She shook her head.

  “A fortnight?”

  She indicated aye.

  “Do you know the men?”

  Another head shake.

  Connor started. “Have you seen what they put in the boat?”

  She indicated nay.

  Connor said, “She probably cannot see from her castle.”

  She widened her gaze, pointing to the moon again.

  “It always comes late at night?” Roddy interpreted. “How can they see?”

  Rose put both hands on her head in a round shape and turned in a full circle.

  Connor muttered, “I don’t know what she means. Try again?”

  “A beacon,” Roddy cried out. “Correct?”

  Rose nodded, excited they’d understood her without much effort.

  In the distance, she heard a voice calling her name. She pointed, indicating she had to leave. It was her mother’s steward, Harold, and she didn’t wish for him to see her with the two men.

  “I’ll escort you, Rose.”

  She shook her head vehemently and spun around, but Roddy said, “Wait.”

  When she turned to face him again, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her lips, one that made her wish to melt against him, but her name rang out across the stones.


  “Rose, I promise we will meet again someday.”

  As she hurried up the path to the caves, her fingers shot up to touch the spot on her lips where he’d kissed her. He’d given her more than he would ever guess.

  Roddy Grant had given her something she hadn’t imagined possible.

  He had just given her hope.

  ***

  Roddy waited until he and Connor were back outside the gates of the castle, far enough away not to be noticed. Shaking his head, he chastised himself for not being more observant. He should have noticed that Rose could hear. She’d known he was coming both times he’d discovered her on the cliffs.

  But it didn’t matter. He was so pleased they had a way to communicate he couldn’t stop the smile he carried on his face or in his heart. Hell, but this lass had gotten to him in a short time.

  “She’s a beauty indeed, cousin,” Connor said with a wink and a sly grin.

  “She’s a bonnie lass…and sweet and strong. I don’t know what goes on here, but I’d like to find out,” Roddy said, looking dejected. “Makes me a wee bit sad. ’Tis possible I may never see her again, though I’ll do everything in my power to do so.”

  “Would you court a lass who cannot speak?”

  “Mayhap not, but ’twould be nice to know her better.”

  Connor gave him a knowing look. “You cannot ignore the pull she has on you.”

  He only grunted in reply as they mounted their horses and headed inland.

  “Now that I’ve given it more thought,” Connor said, “I think we should stop at the abbey I visited shortly after we left Braden’s, Sona Abbey. You traveled to another small castle while I was there.” He paused, as if considering the matter, then added, “Both of us have sensed something is not right at MacDole Castle. I had a similar response to the abbey. I dismissed it at the time because ’twas my first trip there. Now, I fear I may have missed something.”

  “The abbey is not that far from MacDole Castle,” Roddy offered, putting voice to what they were both thinking.

  “Aye, which makes me wonder if there’s a connection to the MacDoles. I’ll say no more than that. You give me your opinion once we arrive.”

  Roddy agreed, so they mounted and headed toward the abbey.

  Even though a small part of him hated leaving Rose behind, he wondered if anything could come of a relationship with her, especially with an overbearing mother who lied about her daughter’s abilities. What kind of cold beast would tell everyone Rose was deaf when she wasn’t? On the surface Jean MacDole had appeared a kind—if cold—woman, but he couldn’t imagine any of the women he knew from Clan Grant treating their child with such callous disregard. He couldn’t rid himself of the unease he felt about the entire situation. What would cause a mother to lie about her child?

  And yet, when he thought about the short time he’d spent with Rose, his soul overflowed with an odd type of joy, one of liberation. He’d unloaded his fear on Connor, who’d claimed to have the same fear, but Roddy had still been left feeling ashamed. Lesser. Connor had defeated his fear, whereas he was still mired in his. He’d shared all with Rose, and the most wondrous thing of all had happened.

  She hadn’t judged him.

  Chapter Four

  “Mayhap they’ll allow us to sleep in the stables, Connor. ’Tis nearly midnight and I can smell rain in the air.” He slowed his horse, glancing skyward as they drew closer to Sona Abbey.

  “I’d say ’tis a most reasonable request. The abbey is supposed to welcome travelers, though I hardly felt welcome on my past visit. I asked about visiting inside, but they were not open to it. Said it was a religious day and no visitors were allowed.”

  Roddy nodded. “I’m all for trying to spend the night dry.” He nodded toward the stables outside the abbey. Two lads were already herding animals inside. Horses didn’t like thunder any more than men did. Every thunderstorm reminded him of the day the Grant stable master had been struck by lightning while he was attempting to calm the destriers and get them inside. That had been a somber day indeed. Many of his clan did their best to stay inside during episodes of lightning ever since that fateful day, especially his cousin, Jamie.

  Death. It seemed to be waiting for him everywhere these days.

  Connor dismounted outside the stables, calling out to the lad just inside. “We’d like to request a night in your stables rather than continue in the approaching storm,” he said. As he spoke, an older man, likely the stable master, emerged.

  “Och,” the man said, clasping his shoulder, “no need for you to sleep here, my lord. We’ll have it packed full of beasts soon. We have a guest house for travelers.” He nodded toward Connor’s plaid. “Anyone from Clan Grant is welcome. And you are the only travelers this night. Head to the kitchens and one of the brothers will share what we have, likely a smoked fish or a vegetable stew. Mayhap some bread. Then he’ll lead you to the guest house. ’Tis not protected inside the curtain wall, but I doubt you’ll be bothered this night. A dreadful storm is indeed coming this way. We’ll take good care of your animals, keep them dry inside.”

  “Many thanks, my friend,” Roddy said.

  They hurried along through the gate in the wall because storm clouds were drifting closer in the moonlight, the winds blustering while glorious shades of purple and deep blue danced in the active sky. The first crack of thunder rang out so they rushed into the kitchens, locating one of the brothers without a problem.

  He introduced himself as Brother Edward. “Here, lads. Take a trencher of fish stew and an ale with each of you and head straight to the guest house. The monks tell me this is to be a mighty thunderstorm. Find your way while ’tis still safe.” He placed the food in a basket, which he handed to Roddy. Connor took up the goblets.

  “Our thanks for your hospitality, Brother Edward,” Connor said. “My belly has been rumbling for the last hour.”

  “Eat hearty, lads,” he called to them as they turned to leave. “Follow the path to the right and it will lead you directly to the guest house.” He escorted them to the door in the curtain wall and pointed them toward the path.

  “Not far, I hope,” Roddy added as he peered up at the flashing lights that promised a downpour soon.

  Connor added, “Aye, I don’t wish to suffer dear Mac’s fate. We are lucky enough to have a building to stay in. I’ll not move again until daybreak.”

  “If you go through the door in the fence,” he said, pointing to it, “you’ll find it on the other side of that hedge.” Brother Edward chuckled. “You only need worry about the ghosts.”

  Connor had been gazing up at the storm, too, but he spun his head to look at the monk. Roddy did the same. Had they heard the man correctly?

  “Ghosts?” he repeated.

  “Aye, you must know we are not far from a graveyard. One never knows what a storm will blow in.” His eyes shone with humor before he turned away.

  “Move along, Roddy. ’Tis about to dump on us.” Connor shivered as he pushed his cousin toward the door.

  They raced toward the door in the fence and made haste to the guesthouse, getting inside just in time. A howling wind and sheets of rain descended on the area almost as soon as they shut the door behind them.

  Roddy could swear he heard cackling laughter carried on the wind.

  ***

  Roddy and Connor filled their bellies while they listened to the storm rage all around them. Connor took a swig of ale and said, “Sorry, cousin, this may not have been the best idea.”

  “Why not?” Roddy glanced around the place, which was clean and well-appointed. “’Tis far better than sleeping on the ground on our plaids. I love sleeping under the stars like our sires did, but not in this weather. I’ll take dry ground any day, and I’m sure the horses are much happier in the stable chomping on oats than they’d have been in the thunderstorm. Besides, you wish to explore the abbey, do you not?”

  Connor glanced at the torch on the wall, which was flickering wildly from the gusts of wind
sneaking in through the small hole in the wooden door. “Right now, I have no interest in leaving this fine guest house. There’s water and a garderobe. Four separate rooms attached to the main room and a bottle of wine on the table. I’m not moving.” Connor took another bite of his stew. “Mayhap we can break our fast inside tomorrow after the storm moves on. If their morning offerings are as good as this stew, I’m willing to wait, and I’d like you to see the abbess or one of the priests I met before.”

  “We can surely try. I have a few coins I can donate to their coffers. Mayhap that will get us inside the door.”

  They finished their meal, talking while the storm raged outside. Then they chose the one room that had two separate beds in case any other travelers arrived seeking shelter. Roddy searched a chest and found a linen square to wash his face and hands, using the full urn on the table. Once he finished all his ablutions, he removed his boots and plopped down on one bed, pleased to see it was a mattress instead of a pallet. “We shall sleep well.” He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling as occasional flashes of lightning lit up the building.

  “I’m sure you will sleep well. A pair of violet eyes will haunt you.” Connor gave him a wry grin as he took to the other mattress, lying with his back against the wall. “Rose is a beauty.”

  “Aye,” Roddy murmured, and as his eyes closed, those violet eyes appeared magically.

  The next thing Roddy knew, the loudest clap of thunder he’d ever heard shattered the silence in the guesthouse. He bolted out of bed and leapt to his feet, his hand already reaching for his sword. The he saw her, and his hand dropped as quickly as he’d lifted it.

  Standing in the doorway was a woman in a billowing gown. He rubbed his eyes to be certain he was seeing clearly, but the vision before him didn’t change. This woman, this specter, was transparent.

  “Who are you?” he whispered, afraid she would disappear. “What are you?”