Highland Betrayal

by Alyson McLayne

  He came to a halt, and the others did too, all of them scanning the passageway for danger. “You did save us. Thank you. But…you have to let me protect you now.”

  “And how will you do that when I am in your arms? You canna even grab your sword. I canna properly aim my daggers. Verily, Callum, you’re being daft. Put. Me. Down!”

  “Warrior Woman,” Gavin said, just loud enough for Callum to hear. Maggie was right, of course—they were both more vulnerable with her in his arms. But it made him feel better to have her there.

  He lowered her to the floor. She swayed a bit before righting herself, and he immediately regretted his decision. But when he moved to pick her up again, he felt the point of a blade under his chin—his blade, as hers were still holding up the rocks. He hadn’t even felt her steal it.

  “One of these days, lass, you may miscalculate. Or I will. Then how will you feel with my blood on the ground?”

  The color left her face, and she tucked his blade into her sleeve. “Then doona pick me up without asking. I’m not a bairn.” She turned and resumed their trek to their bedchamber. “Tell me what you discovered.”

  “The rope that held up the rocks was cut, not frayed,” Gavin said.

  “Did anyone see anything?”

  “Nay, not that we know of.” Callum moved slightly ahead of her, his hand on his sword hilt. “Most of the stoneworkers in the courtyard were having their midday meal.”

  She reached their bedchamber door and motioned him and Gavin inside. Finnian and Artair took their positions outside in the hall, and she waved goodbye to them before closing and bolting the door.

  Gavin raised his brow at her.

  “Sit,” she said. She indicated the two chairs in front of the fire while she lowered herself onto the edge of the bed.

  After a slight hesitation, he and Gavin did as she asked, turning their chairs to face her.

  “It’s Glynis,” she said.

  Callum frowned in confusion, and she elaborated. “Your cousin Keith’s wife. The one who was so cruel to Aileen when she was a lass.”

  He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I know who Glynis is, Maggie. What I doona understand is your meaning. What is Glynis?”

  “She could be the traitor.” Maggie counted down on her fingers. “She’s an outsider, she’s tupping Drustan, which Keith knows about, and she left the courtyard moments before the rocks came down. Not to mention I doona like her. She smells rotten under her pretty clothes.”

  His eyes widened. “How do you know she’s sleeping with Drustan?”

  “I watched them in the courtyard from the balcony. All three of them. As soon as she entered, she went straight for Drustan, who stiffened at her arrival. She stood a bit too close to him and rubbed her arm against his. Then Keith, who’d seen it all, approached them. His shoulders were tense too. He said something to them, and she ran away.”

  Callum opened his mouth several times to speak, not knowing how to respond. “Maggie, this is all speculation. You have no proof. And just because she touched Drustan doesn’t mean he’s tupping her behind Keith’s back.” But he remembered his talk with Drustan the night they found Maggie in the tree, bloody and torn after being attacked by the wolves. Drustan had admitted he’d been with women outside of marriage—women who wouldn’t want children with him.

  “Aileen knows,” she said, dropping that bit of information like a barrel of tar dropping through a murder hole. “Which means Keith most likely told her. Those two are as tight as Glynis’s chastity belt is loose.”

  Gavin snorted and rubbed his palm over his jaw. He looked at Callum. “You know that’s true. Glynis is light in her skirts.”

  Maggie pinned her husband with her gaze. “She tried to seduce you?”

  Callum felt an uncomfortable flush burn up his neck. Glynis had indeed offered herself up to him once, and he’d said no. Not because of marriage vows—she hadn’t yet been married to Keith. But something about the way she’d approached him hadn’t sat right. He hadn’t thought any more about it at the time.

  Maggie nodded, seeing the answer in his face. She switched her attention to Gavin. “And you too?”

  “Nay, not me. But she did approach Kerr and Darach,” Gavin said. “Neither of them took her up on it—that I know of.”

  “What about Lachlan?” Callum asked.

  “I doona think so. Maybe she thought he would walk away too easily. Lachlan was ne’er one to stay with a woman or to fall in love.”

  “Until he met Amber.”

  Callum grinned. “Aye.”

  “It makes sense Glynis wouldnae approach Lachlan. She’d have no control over him,” Maggie said, “and it seems to me that’s what she’s all about. ’Tis what she tried to do to me. She came into the bedchamber, uninvited, when I was vulnerable and in the tub, and tried in several different ways to manipulate me. First, she tried to ingratiate herself, then to cause a breach between me and Callum, then to shake my confidence in myself—all while being seemingly helpful.”

  She moved and stood in front of Callum. “She’s the viper you’ve been looking for, I know it.”

  Callum tapped his fingers together, not knowing whether Maggie was right or not about Glynis—it could all have been a misunderstanding—but Maggie was smart and not prone to fancy. He took her uninjured hand and leaned back in his chair, pulling her gently onto his lap. He liked that she went willingly and fit so snugly against him.

  “Let’s say all that is true,” he said. “She’s sleeping with Drustan, and she tried to manipulate you for whatever reason. I saw her leave the courtyard. She didn’t have time to run around the perimeter and up the stairs to cut the rope.”

  Maggie scrunched up her face as she thought about it. What had Drustan said the other day about stubborn women being the best kind? Compliant would be nice right about now, although she felt soft and yielding in his arms.

  “Maybe she had an accomplice,” she said.

  “Aye, maybe. I just…”

  “You just what?” she asked.

  “Why would a woman murder my father and attack me? It doesn’t make sense. What possible motivation could she have?”

  She leaned away from him, her face filled with a growing comprehension and incredulity. “Callum MacLean, do you believe women are incapable of cold-blooded murder?”

  He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, Gavin’s too. “Well…yes.”

  “So, it has to be a man who cut that rope today? And pushed your father over the castle wall?”

  He expelled a harsh breath. “Yes, Maggie, that’s what I believe. You can rail at me all you want, but I believe it was a man.”

  “I canna believe your prejudice,” Maggie said, shaking her finger at him. “Haven’t I proved to you yet that women are no different than men? They can be murderers if they so choose!”

  Gavin grinned. “As much as I agree with you, Maggie, I doona know that being a murderess is something a woman should strive for.”

  She waved him off. “You know what I mean.”

  They fell into silence. Callum couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to what had happened between Maggie and Glynis, fury taking hold. If Glynis was indeed the traitor, she’d been inside his bedchamber with his wife, where she could have easily pushed Maggie’s head under the water. He shuddered and pulled her closer.

  “We’ll investigate her,” he said, “and we’ll start by talking to Drustan.”

  Maggie patted her hand on his chest. “Aye, thank you.”

  Gavin pulled himself from the chair with a grunt. “I’ll go find him. And I’ll set someone to watch Glynis too. Finn maybe? People tend to overlook him because of his youth.”

  Callum nodded. “Finn’s a good choice. But tell him to keep his distance.”

  “And to be careful.” Maggie’s voice had filled with worry. “She’s smar
t and capable of anything.”

  Gavin nodded. “I will, love. Doona worry about your friend.” He bent and kissed the top of her head. “And if I haven’t said it yet, thank you for saving my life today.”

  She smiled up at him and squeezed his hand when he straightened. Her eyes shone brightly. When Gavin left, shutting the door behind him, Callum stood with Maggie in his arms. “Can I carry you now?” he asked her.

  “Aye, where are you planning to put me?”

  She looked up at him from under her lashes, and he felt that familiar stirring in his loins that was always just a breath away whenever she was near. “On the bed. You look done in.”

  She put her hand to her mouth and tried to stifle a yawn.

  “See?” he said.

  “I suppose you’re right. But you doona have to rush off right away, do you?”

  “I’ll lie with you for a while. I’m tired too.”

  “And that’s the only reason?” she asked, running her fingers lazily over his collarbone.

  He shivered. “Nay. The only reason is because I want to be with you. But I willna touch you in that way, lass, not until I know my attentions willna cause you pain. We were…vigorous last time.”

  He laid her on the quilt and then crawled up beside her, stretching his body alongside hers and slipping his arm under her head for a pillow. “Even if I just kiss you down here”—he trailed his hand over her chest and down her stomach, watching with fascination as her body undulated beneath his touch—“it’ll be too much strain on your ribs, no matter how good you’re feeling right now. You’ll forget yourself. I’ll forget myself.” He nuzzled along her jaw to a spot behind her ear that was soft and warm. She released a heavy breath, blowing through the strands of his hair. “I want you too much, Maggie, and I doona trust that I’ll stay gentle.”

  She cupped his jaw, rubbing her fingers along his freshly shaved cheek. “A kiss then?” she asked, her voice unsteady.

  “Aye, Maggie. A kiss.”

  His lips found hers. Tiny kisses at first, just savoring her mouth. Then he slid his hand up from her stomach and over her breast, the mound yielding beneath his palm. His body hardened even more as he remembered taking her breasts in his mouth, devouring them. He growled deep in his chest and forced his hand to keep moving—before he opened her dress and pushed her shift aside.

  From the way Maggie panted beneath him, he knew she wouldn’t make him stop. Nay, she’d probably help him lift her skirts and wrap her legs around his waist. But afterward…he had to think about afterward. About the damage he could cause to her wounded body. A body wounded saving his life. Which she’d then had to do a second time.

  He threaded his hand through her hair and held her still for a firm kiss, more just a pressing of their lips together, before he lay on his pillow. He expelled the breath in his lungs with a loud whoosh.

  Maggie let out a whimper of protest, and he smiled. Aye, he had married a warrior woman, and it would be up to him to look out for her. He could wait another few weeks until she was fully healed.

  “A few weeks?” she protested, and he realized he must have said the last out loud. “I canna wait that long! We’re married, Callum. ’Tis your duty as my husband to pleasure me. I promise to lie still.”

  He laughed and turned on his side again, wrapping her in his arms, loving that she craved him the way he did her. “’Tis my duty to keep you safe and see to your well-being first. Which means avoiding excessive movement. Can you promise you willna do that when I touch you?”

  She glowered at him but did not deny it. It was going to be a happy marriage if his wife couldn’t control herself during lovemaking.

  After a moment, she sighed and then snuggled even closer to him. “Callum.”

  “Aye, lass.”

  “You’ve ne’er told me about your father. What happened the night he died?”

  He fell silent, his hand stroking her hair, wondering where to begin. He hadn’t spoken about this at any length for a long time, and it seemed like he had to drag his tongue through mud to form the words. “’Twas just after the New Year. Yuletide had been good, and everyone, including me, was excited about my upcoming wedding. Believe me when I say that, Maggie. I wanted to marry you as much then as I did now. And my father and clan wanted it too.”

  “I believe you. I was in the kitchen today and met the cook and her helpers. They’re lovely people. They all told me the same thing. How the clan was looking forward to our nuptials before tragedy struck.”

  He smiled, although it was tempered with sadness. “I think Cook was the most disappointed of everyone. She’s had our wedding feast planned for four years, and then we went and sealed our vows without a ceremony. Although that doesn’t mean we canna have one now. We’ll do that after…”

  He trailed off, and she looked up at him. “After your foster family arrives?”

  “That too. What I meant to say was…after we find the traitor.”

  She pressed her lips to his arm. “Have faith, Callum. Surely we’ll be able to discover who it is, especially if we doona eliminate half the clan just because they’re women.”

  God’s truth, she was right, but his heart still protested. “I think I want it to be a man because…well, I suppose I want my father’s death to mean something.”

  She frowned in confusion. “I doona understand. Why wouldnae it mean something if he was killed by a woman?”

  “’Tis just how I’ve imagined it, I suppose, that he was pushed off the wall to keep a great secret quiet or…as a step in a sweeping evil plan. Something that we’ll soon be able to unravel. Not because he was up there tupping someone and was pushed over the edge because of it.”

  Maggie sat up, her mouth open and her brow wrinkled in disbelief. “Believe me, if I were to kill you now—which I may do if I e’er hear such nonsense coming from your mouth again—it would mean something. A lot of somethings to the people who love you. And it wouldnae matter that I wasn’t a nefarious monster planning to take o’er the Highlands. All that would matter is that you would be dead for being a mewling ablach.”

  He winced and rubbed the nape of his neck, knowing she was right. He prided himself on his logic, yet she’d shown him that the way he thought of women clouded everything. It was a flaw Lachlan had pointed out, as well as Gavin. Aye, those two didn’t put women up on a dais. Although Gavin certainly had before Cristel had come crashing down.

  Where had he learned that attitude from? His father, he supposed. Ivor had always been charming with the fairer sex, treating them like angels…unless he was tupping them. And maybe that was it right there. Maybe whoever was plotting against the clans had known that and deliberately set a woman after Ivor.

  God’s truth, he was an ablach. What else had he missed?

  She must have seen the realization on his face, because she said, “Are you done underestimating me and all womankind, then? Because every time you do, it diminishes me. And it makes me want to do to you as your brother’s wife would do. And not the kind, sweet wife either. The one who would grab a man’s stones and twist.”

  He couldn’t help crossing his legs and shifting his sporran over top of his privates. “You mean Amber. Aye, you’ll like her. You’ll like them both.”

  She lay down again and tucked in beside him. “Go back to telling me about your father. Did anything unusual happen before he died?”

  “Naught that we discovered. He’d been cheerful all through yuletide. It happened at night. Drustan came to find me, to tell me. I was in my bedchamber but not asleep. Drustan had a letter in his hand that he’d found in my father’s chamber. ’Twas a note written by my father, explaining that he’d…jumped.”

  Callum’s heart was pounding now, and he took a deep breath to settle it. “Drustan swears the letter was false, and my father would ne’er have jumped. Which means he was murdered, and the note was placed in
my father’s chamber to distract us from the truth. We’ve been searching for the murderer e’er since. We ne’er told anyone about the letter, except my foster brothers and Gregor. And now you.”

  “Then why did the priest try to refuse your father’s burial in consecrated ground?”

  “I doona know. Rumor? There was talk that he jumped rather than fell.”

  “Did you see the letter?” she asked.

  “Aye.”

  “And naught struck you as odd about it? Other than the contents, of course.”

  “It resembled my father’s hand, but wee things were different. The formation of some of the letters, some of the phrases and wording, even where he’d written the date on the page. It was subtle, but it didn’t fit. Drustan agreed, and he knew Ivor even better than I did.”

  She grew quiet. He did too, feeling his anxiety rise. His father’s death had gone unsolved for so long.

  “Callum.”

  “Aye?” He turned his head on the pillow to find her looking at him.

  “Is there any possibility he did jump? That he did write that letter, and you just doona want to see it?”

  He took his time answering, trying to sense within himself any hidden doubt, any spark of intuition that could point to suicide. “Nay, Maggie, I doona think so. And if I had any doubts before, which I didn’t, today’s sabotage proves the traitor exists and has no qualms about killing.”

  “You believe ’tis the same person?”

  He stilled. Then his fingers tapped together as he thought about it. “I’d always assumed so, but I suppose the two events may be unrelated.”

  “Can you tell me about him? What kind of a man was he? Was there an attempt on your life too? You doona have any brothers, do you? Besides your foster brothers, of course. No one else with any claim to the lairdship?”

  “Nay, but…”

  “But what?”

  Callum huffed out a breath, “’Tis possible I may have a brother I doona know about. My parents did not have a love match. Maybe they tried in the beginning, but they couldnae find common ground. And I know for a fact my father had at least one lover while my mother was alive.”