Beyond the Highland Myst

by Highlander 01-08

  What an intriguing, tantalizing word: normal. "Take it away, Odin. I was wrong," Grimm whispered. "I doona wish to be Berserk any longer."

  But Odin didn't seem to care.

  Grimm had to face the facts. Now that the McKane had found him again, they would tear the country apart looking for him. It wasn't safe for him to be near other people. It was time for a new name, perhaps a new country. His thoughts turned to England, but every ounce of Scot in him rebelled.

  How could he live without ever touching Jillian again? Having experienced such joy, how could he resume his barren existence? Christ, it would have been better if he'd never known what his life might have been like! On that fateful night above Tuluth, at the foolish age of fourteen, he'd called a Berserker, begging for the gift of vengeance, never realizing how complete that vengeance would be. Vengeance didn't bring back the dead, it deadened the avenger.

  But there was really little point in regret, he mocked himself, for he owned the beast and the beast owned him, and it was that simple. Resignation blanketed him, and only one issue remained. Where to now, Grimm Roderick?

  He nudged Occam to the only place left to go: in the forbidding Highlands he could disappear into the wilderness. He knew every empty hut and cave, every source of shelter from the bitter winter that would soon ice white caps around the mountains.

  He would be so cold again.

  Guiding Occam with his knees, he plaited war braids into his hair and wondered if an invincible Berserker could die from something so innocuous as a broken heart.

  * * * * *

  Jillian gazed sadly at the blackened lawn of Caithness. Everything was a reminder. It was November, and the hated lawn would be black until the first snowfall came to smother it. She couldn't step outside the castle without being forced to remember that night, the fire, Grimm leaving. The lawn sloped and rolled in a vast, never-ending carpet of black ash. All her flowers were gone. Grimm was gone.

  He'd abandoned her because he was a coward.

  She'd tried to make excuses for him, but there were none to be made. The most courageous man she'd ever known was afraid to love. Well, to hell with him! she thought defiantly.

  She felt pain; she wouldn't deny it. The mere thought of living without him for the rest of her life was unbearable, but she refused to dwell on it. That would be the sure path to emotional collapse. So she stoked her anger against him, clutching it like a shield to her wounded heart.

  "He's not coming back, lass," Ramsay said gently.

  Jillian clenched her jaw and spun to face him. "I think I've figured that out, Ramsay," she said evenly.

  Ramsay studied her in stalwart stance. When she moved to leave, his hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist. She tried to snatch it away, but he was too strong. "Marry me, Jillian. I swear to you, I'll treat you like a queen. I will never abandon you."

  Not so long as there's coin in keeping me, she thought. "Let go of me," she hissed.

  He didn't budge. "Jillian, consider your situation. Your parents will be back any day now and expect you to wed. They'll likely force you to choose when they return. I would be good to you," he promised.

  "I will never wed," she said with absolute conviction.

  His demeanor altered instantly. When his sneering gaze slid over her abdomen, she was shocked; when he spoke, she was rendered momentarily speechless.

  "If a bastard quickens in your belly you may think differently, lass," he said with a smirk. "Then your parents will force you to wed, and you'll be counting your blessings if any decent man will have you. There's a name for women like you. You're not so pure," he spat.

  "How dare you!" she cried. The instinct to slap the smirk from his face was overwhelming, and she acted upon it reflexively.

  Ramsay's face whitened with rage, and the red welt from her blow stood out in stark relief. He caught her other wrist and pulled her close, bristling with anger. "You'll regret that one day, lass." He shoved her away so savagely, she stumbled. For an instant she saw something so brutal in his eyes that she feared he might force her to the ground and beat her, or worse. She scrambled to her feet and dashed for the castle on trembling legs.

  * * * * *

  "He's not coming back, Jillian," Kaley said gently.

  "I know that! For God's sake, could everyone please just quit saying that to me? Do I look dense? Is that it?"

  Kaley eyes filled with tears, and Jillian was instantly remorseful. "Oh, Kaley, I didn't mean to yell at you. I haven't been myself lately. It's just that I'm worried about… things…"

  "Things like babies?" Kaley said carefully.

  Jillian stiffened.

  "Is it possible…" Kaley trailed off.

  Jillian averted her gaze guiltily.

  "Oh, lass." Kaley wrapped her in her ample embrace. "Oh, lass," she echoed helplessly.

  * * * * *

  Two weeks later, Gibraltar and Elizabeth St. Clair returned.

  Jillian was torn by mixed emotions. She was elated to have them home, yet she dreaded seeing them, so she hid in her chambers and waited for them to come to her. And they did, but not until the next morning. In retrospect, she realized she'd been a fool to give her clever da any time to ferret out information before confronting her.

  When the summons finally came, she shivered, and the last vestige of excitement at seeing her parents turned to pure dread. She dragged her feet all the way to the study.

  * * * * *

  "Mama! Da!" Jillian exclaimed. She vaulted into their arms, greedily snatching hugs before they could launch the interrogation she knew was coming.

  "Jillian." Gibraltar terminated the hug so quickly, Jillian knew she was in dire straits indeed.

  "How's Hugh? And my new nephew?" she asked brightly.

  Gibraltar and Elizabeth exchanged glances, then Elizabeth sank into a chair near the fire, abandoning Jillian to deal with Gibraltar by herself.

  "Have you chosen a husband yet, Jillian?" Gibraltar skirted all niceties.

  Jillian drew a deep breath. "That's what I wished to speak with you about, Da. I've had a lot of time to think." She swallowed nervously as Gibraltar eyed her dispassionately. Dispassionate never boded well for her—it meant her da was furious. She cleared her throat anxiously. "I have decided, after much consideration, I mean, I've really thought this through… that I… um—" Jillian broke off. She had to stop warbling like an idiot—her da would never be swayed by tepid protests. "Da… I really don't plan to wed. Ever." There, it was out. "I mean, I appreciate everything you and Mama have done for me, never think I don't, but marriage is just not for me." She punctuated her words with a confident nod.

  Gibraltar regarded her with an unnerving mixture of amusement and condescension. "Nice try, Jillian. But I'm not playing games anymore. I brought three men here for you. Only two are left, and you will marry one of them. I've had it with your shenanigans. You're going to be twenty-two in a month, and either de Moncreiffe or Logan will make a perfectly good husband. There will be no more moping about and no crafty little ploys. Which one will you wed?" he demanded, a bit more forcefully than he'd intended.

  "Gibraltar!" Elizabeth protested. She rose from her chair, ruffled by his high-handed tone.

  "Stay out of this, Elizabeth. She's played me for a fool for the last time. Jillian will summon up one reason after another why she can't wed until we're both too old to do anything about it."

  "Gibraltar, we will not force her to wed someone she doesn't want." Elizabeth stamped a dainty foot to punctuate her decree.

  "She's going to have to accept the fact that she can't have the man she wants, Elizabeth. He was here and he left. And that's the end of the matter." Gibraltar sighed, eyeing his daughter's rigid back as she stood plucking at the folds of her gown. "Elizabeth, I tried. Don't you think I tried? I knew how Jillian felt about Grimm. But I won't force the man to wed her, and even if I did, what good would that do? Jillian doesn't want a forced husband."

  "You knew I loved him?" Jillian exclaimed
. She almost ran to him, but caught herself and stiffened further.

  Gibraltar almost laughed; a broom handle couldn't have been more rigid than his daughter's spine. Stubborn just like her mother. "Of course, lass. I've seen it in your eyes for years. So I brought him here for you. And now Kaley tells me that he left a sennight ago and told you to marry Quinn. Jillian, he's gone. He's made his feelings clear." Gibraltar drew himself up. "I am not going to fling my daughter at some inconsiderate bastard who's too much a fool to see what kind of treasure he'd be getting. I will not gift my Jillian to a man who can't appreciate how rare a woman she is. What kind of father would I be to chase a man down and throw my daughter after him?"

  Elizabeth sniffed, blinking back a tear. "You brought him because you knew she loved him," she cooed. "Oh, Gibraltar! Even though I didn't think he was right for her, you saw through it all. You knew what Jillian wanted."

  Gibraltar's pleasure at his wife's adoration quickly evaporated when Jillian's shoulders slumped in defeat.

  "I never knew you knew how I felt, Da," Jillian said in a small voice.

  "Of course I did. Just as I know how you feel now. But you have to face the facts. He left, Jillian—"

  "I know he left! Must you all keep reminding me?"

  "Yes, if you persist in trying to fritter your life away. I gave him the chance, and he was too much a fool to take it. You must move on with your life, lass."

  "He didn't think he was good enough for me," Jillian murmured.

  "Is that what he said?" Elizabeth asked quickly.

  Jillian blew a tendril of hair from her face. "Sort of. He said that I couldn't possibly understand what would happen if he married me. And he's right. Whatever terrible thing he thinks it is, I can't even begin to guess. He acts like there's some dreadful secret about him, and Mama, I can't convince him otherwise. I can't even begin to imagine what horrible thing he thinks is wrong with him. Grimm Roderick is the best man I've ever known, except for you, Da." Jillian smiled weakly at her father before crossing to the window to stare out at the blackened lawn.

  Gibraltar's eyes narrowed and he gazed thoughtfully at Elizabeth, who had raised her eyebrows in surprise.

  She still doesn't know. Tell her, Elizabeth mouthed, shooting a glance at her daughter's stiff back.

  That he's a Berserker? Gibraltar mouthed back, disbelieving. He must tell her himself.

  He can't. He's not here!

  He refuses. And I won't fix it for him. If he can't bring himself to trust her, she shouldn't marry him. He's obviously not man enough for my Jillian.

  Our Jillian.

  He shrugged. Crossing the study, he cupped Jillian's shoulders with comforting hands. "I'm sorry, Jillian. I truly am. I thought maybe he'd changed over the years. But he hasn't. Still, it doesn't alter that fact that you must wed. I'd like it to be Quinn."

  She stiffened and hissed softly. "I am not marrying anyone."

  "Yes, you are," Gibraltar enunciated sternly. "I am posting the banns tomorrow, and in three weeks' time you are going to marry someone."

  Jillian whirled around to face him, her eyes flashing. "You should know I became his lover."

  Elizabeth fanned herself furiously.

  Gibraltar shrugged.

  Elizabeth gaped, first at Jillian, then at her unresponsive husband.

  "That's all? A shrug?" Jillian blinked at her father disbelievingly. "Well, while you may not care, I hardly think my husband-to-be would cheerily accept it, do you, Da?"

  "I wouldn't mind," Quinn said quietly, startling them all with his unannounced presence. "I'd marry you on any terms, Jillian."

  All eyes flew to Quinn de Moncreiffe, whose broad golden frame filled the doorway.

  "Good man," Gibraltar said firmly.

  "Oh, Quinn!" Jillian said sadly. "You deserve better…"

  "I've told you as much before, lass. I'll take you on any terms. Grimm's a fool, but I'm not. I'll marry you happily. No regrets. I've never understood why a woman's supposed to be untouched when a man's expected to be as touched as possible."

  "Then it's settled," Gibraltar concluded quickly.

  "No, it's not!"

  "Yes, it is, Jillian," Gibraltar said sternly. "You will marry in three weeks. Period. End of conversation." He turned away.

  "You can't do this to me!"

  "Wait." Ramsay Logan stepped into the doorway behind Quinn. "I'd like to offer for her too."

  Gibraltar assessed the two men in the doorway and slowly turned his regard to his daughter, who stood, mouth ajar.

  "You have twelve hours to choose, Jillian. I post the banns at dawn."

  "Mama, you can't let him do this!" Jillian wailed.

  Elizabeth St. Clair drew herself erect and sniffed before following Gibraltar from the study.

  * * * * *

  "What on earth do you think you're doing now, Gibraltar?" Elizabeth demanded.

  Gibraltar leaned back, resting on the sill of the window in their bedroom, the hair on his chest glinting gold between the folds of his silk robe in the soft glow of the firelight.

  Elizabeth reclined on the bed nude and, Gibraltar marveled, breathtaking. "By Odin's spear, woman, you know I can refuse you nothing when I see you like that."

  "Then don't make Jillian wed, love," Elizabeth said simply. There were no games between her and her husband, and there never had been. Elizabeth firmly believed most problems in a relationship could be cleared up or avoided entirely by clear, concise communication. Games invited unnecessary discord.

  "I don't plan to," Gibraltar replied with a faint smile. "It will never go that far."

  "Whatever do you mean?" Elizabeth removed the pins from her hair, allowing it to cascade in golden waves over her bare breasts. "Is this another one of your infamous plans, Gibraltar?" she asked with lazy amusement.

  "Yes." He sank to the edge of the bed beside her. He ran his hand down the smooth shape of her side, contouring the lovely indentation of her waist, soaring over the lush curve of her hip. "If she hadn't admitted that she'd become his lover, I might not have felt so confident. But he's a Berserker, Elizabeth. There is only one true mate for each Berserker, and they know it. He cannot allow the wedding to take place. A Berserker would die first."

  Elizabeth's eyes brightened, and understanding penetrated her sensual languor. "You're posting the banns to antagonize him. Because it's the most effective way to force him to declare himself."

  "As always, we understand each other perfectly, don't we, my dear? What better way to bring him back at a run?"

  "How clever. I hadn't thought of that. There's no way a Berserker would allow his mate to wed another."

  "Let's just hope all the legends about those warriors are true, Elizabeth. Gavrael's da told me years ago that once a Berserker makes love with his own true mate, he can no longer mate another woman. Gavrael is even more Berserk than his da. He'll come for her, and when he does, he'll have no choice but to tell her the truth. We'll get our wedding in three weeks, no doubt about it, and it will be to the man she wants—Grimm."

  "What about Quinn's feelings?"

  "Quinn doesn't really believe she'll marry him. He is also of the opinion that Grimm will come. I spoke with Quinn before I made Jillian choose, and he agreed to do this. Although I must admit, Ramsay certainly surprised me with his offer."

  "You mean you had this all planned out before you confronted her?" Elizabeth was amazed once again by the twists and turns of her husband's brilliant scheming mind.

  "It was one of several possible plans," Gibraltar corrected. "A man must anticipate every possibility when the women he loves are concerned."

  "My hero." Elizabeth fluttered her eyelashes.

  Gibraltar covered her body with his. "I'll show you a hero," he growled.

  * * * * *

  Gibraltar hadn't thought that even his cosseted Jillian could pout, sulk, and be nasty for three solid weeks.

  She could.

  Ever since the morning she'd slipped a note bearing on
e word, "Quinn," under her parents' bedroom door, she'd refused to speak to him in anything but single-word replies. Everyone else in the castle she harangued with the same questions: how many banns had been posted, when, and where.

  "Were they posted in Durrkesh, Kaley?" Jillian fretted.

  "Yes, Jillian."

  "What about Scurrington and Edinburgh?"

  "Yes, Jillian." Hatchard sighed, knowing it was futile to remind her he'd answered the same question the day before.

  "And the smaller villages in the Highlands? When were they posted there?"

  "Days ago, Jillian." Gibraltar interrupted her interrogation.

  Jillian sniffed and turned her back on her da.

  "Why do you care where the banns have been posted?" Gibraltar provoked.

  "Just curious," Jillian said lightly as she strode regally from the room.

  * * * * *

  "He'll come, Mama. I know he will."

  Elizabeth smiled and smoothed Jillian's hair, but weeks passed and Grimm didn't come.

  Even Quinn started to get a little nervous.

  * * * * *

  "What will we do if he doesn't show?" Quinn asked. He paced the study, moving his long legs silently. The wedding was tomorrow and no one had heard a word from Grimm Roderick.

  Gibraltar poured them both a drink. "He has to come." Quinn picked up the goblet and sipped thoughtfully.

  "He must know the wedding is tomorrow. The only way he could possibly not know is if he is no longer in Scotland. We posted those blasted banns in every village of over fivescore inhabitants."

  Gibraltar and Quinn stared at the fire and drank for a time in silence.

  "If he doesn't come, I'll go through with it."

  "Now, why would you be doing that, lad?" Gibraltar asked gently.

  Quinn shrugged. "I love her. I always have."

  Gibraltar shook his head. "There's love and then there's love, Quinn. And if you're not ready to kill Grimm simply for touching Jillian, then it's not the marrying kind of love you're feeling. She's not for you."

  When Quinn made no reply, Gibraltar laughed aloud and slapped him on the thigh. "Oh, she's definitely not for you. You didn't even argue with me."