Her Highland Protector (Scottish Highlander Romance)

by Barbara Bard

  He took her hand, gazing into her face as her eyelids fluttered, and another moan of pain emerged from her slack lips. Idina crept to the foot of the bed, her fingers twisted together although her expression remained neutral.

  “Myra, lass,” Fiona said, rolling first one of her eyelids back, then the other to inspect her eyes. “We be here wi’ ye.”

  “What happened?” Myra’s eyes opened, yet squinted against the pain she must have felt upon regaining consciousness.

  “Ye got struck while trainin’, Myra,” Greer said, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed. “Ye wi’ be all right.”

  Her hand in his tightened. “I remember now. I didn’t duck in time.”

  “If ye can drink a wee bit, Myra,” Fiona said, “I hae herbs in water that may help yer pain.”

  Myra dipped her chin in a brief nod. “Thank you.”

  Fiona went to a side table to mix the concoction while Greer smiled down into her face. “Ye gave me a proper scare, ye did.”

  “I’m sorry. It was my fault.”

  “Nay, lass,” Greer murmured, stroking her cheek with his fingers. “Ne’er apologize.”

  “Please don’t blame Gavin.”

  “I willnae.”

  Myra smiled. “I know you too well. Have you tried to kill him yet?”

  Chuckling, Greer shrugged. “Only once.”

  “You can stop trying. It wasn’t his fault. Please say you’ll forgive him.”

  “I dae, I swear.”

  Myra closed her eyes, relaxing against the pillow. “Here I am, an invalid again.”

  “Ye be up and aroond soon.”

  Fiona appeared at his elbow, handing him a pewter cup. He held it to her lips as Myra lifted her head enough to swallow it down. “Be ye hungry, lass?” Fiona asked.

  Handing the cup back, Myra replied, “Not really. My stomach is upset.”

  “Then just relax and try tae sleep.”

  At his mother’s insistent nudging, Greer rose from the bed, then bent to kiss her cheek. “I be just over here when ye wake,” he murmured.

  “That will be nice.”

  Now that his anxiety for her passed, Greer felt his own hunger rise to poke him in the ribs. Hesitant to leave Myra’s side, he glanced a question at Idina. Reading his expression correctly, she offered him a small smile and a nod.

  “I wi’ gae fetch food fer ye,” she said. “I love her tae.”

  “Of course, Idina,” Fiona replied, fussing over the blanket that covered Myra. “When ye return, ye wi’ stay and help care fer her.”

  Greer slept than night on the small bed that Idina used, while Idina herself slumbered in the great bed beside Myra. Waking at every small sound, he crept on silent feet to check on her, often finding Idina also awake, making sure Myra needed nothing. By dawn, his eyes felt gritty and tired, and he yawned continually, but Myra’s pure blue gaze meeting his made his sleep lack worth it. “How ye feel?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “Other than a headache,” she replied with a smile, “just fine.”

  Idina stood on the far side of the bed. “Wi’ ye be wanting food, Myra? I wi’ fetch it.”

  “Yes, I am actually hungry.”

  Idina left on the errand as Greer took her hand and kissed it. “I nae going tae risk ye again, Myra. I dinnae want ye training tae fight any more.”

  Myra’s brow furrowed. “But I want to continue. Lesson learned – duck.”

  “I cannae see ye get hurt.”

  “You’d rather risk me being killed by this monster roaming the moors than help me learn to defend myself?”

  Growing annoyed, Greer snapped, “I wi’ protect ye.”

  “You cannot be at my side every moment of every day, Greer,” she replied, her tone hot. “And this is my choice, not yours.”

  “I wi’ ferbid it.”

  “Unless you plan to throw me from this castle, you cannot forbid me from doing anything.”

  “I can stop me men from intstructin’ ye. And I plan tae.”

  Myra stubbornly crossed her arms over her breasts. “Fine. I will practice on my own. I will also learn to ride on my own. Fiona told me I can use the mare anytime I wish to.”

  His temper rising, Greer stood up from the bed, gazing down at her. “Ye be a stubborn wench.”

  “And you’re a stubborn fool. Your father agreed to having us taught to fight. If he says we can continue, then there’s nothing you can say about it.”

  Grinding his teeth, Greer knew she was right. If Kerr wanted the women to continue their lessons in self defense, there was nothing he could do about it. In addition, Kerr adored Myra, and recognized the need for the women to learn some fighting skills under these circumstances. His worry for Myra’s safety overrode all his previous agreements to teach her.

  Myra observed his hesitation. “You know I’m right in this.”

  “I dinnae care. I cannae see ye hurt.”

  “There’s a risk is anything I do,” she replied. “I could walk under the castle’s walls and a stone break off to fall and kill me.”

  The door opened behind Greer, forcing him to glance up. Fiona entered, and instantly sensed the tension between them. “What be amiss?” she asked, striding quickly to the bed. Bending, she examined Myra, and nodded in satisfaction with what she saw in her face and eyes.

  “Greer is telling me I can’t train with the knife,” Myra explained, wincing as Fiona unwrapped the linen bandage from her head to inspect her wound.

  “Why nae?” Fiona asked absently, peering at Myra’s brow. “I need tae clean that, it be crusted.”

  Fiona left her bedside as Greer scowled darkly, beginning to feel trapped. “I wouldnae see her be hurt.”

  “Then train her right,” Fiona replied absently, pouring water from a pitcher into a basin. “Myra, ye feeling hungry?”

  “Idina went to get some food for me.”

  “Good.” Fiona returned, brushing past Greer as though he were a mere piece of furniture. “Ye need food tae keep up yer strength.”

  Sitting on the chair beside the bed, Fiona gently washed the wound on Myra’s brow, ignoring her winces and yelps of pain. “Hold still,” she ordered. “I cannae dae this wi’ ye squirming.”

  “Sorry,” Myra said, “it hurts.”

  “Ye wish tae be a warrior, ye must expect tae get injured now and again.”

  “She should’nae be a warrior at all,” Greer complained, watching the process from the foot of the bed.

  “Ye agreed tae teach her, lad,” Fiona replied easily. “Ye gonna gae back oan yer word?”

  Stuck, Greer inwardly squirmed as much as Myra did under Fiona’s attentions. “Nay,” he muttered.

  “What’s that? I dinnae hear ye.”

  “Nay, I said,” Greer replied more loudly. “Ye should be oan me side in this.”

  “I dinnae create the situation,” Fiona replied, scowling over her shoulder at him. “Ye did. And ye wi’ see it through.”

  Furious, Greer stalked across the chamber toward the door. “I gae tae break me fast.”

  He opened it to find Idina on the other side with a laden tray in her hands. Belly rumbling at the delicious odors coming from it, he stepped aside to permit her into the room. Then he left, forcing himself to not slam it in his irritation. Outside in the corridor, he found Jared and Gavin, both eyeing him with trepidation and anxiety.

  “How she be?” Jerod asked.

  “Stubborn, annoying and makin’ me wish tae strangle her.”

  The pair glanced at each other, then broke into identical grins. “Ah, then she be feeling herself again,” Jerod replied, nudging Gavin with his elbow.

  “I dinnae mean tae hurt the lass,” Gavin said, his grin fading.

  “I ken it.” Greer smacked him on the arm. “I be outta me head yesterday.”

  “Ye headed tae eat?” Gavin asked, “we wi’ join ye.”

  As the three of them walked down the stairs to the dining hall, Jared asked, “Why ye be sae ann
oyed wi’ the lass?”

  Greer shook his head. “She be insisting oan continuing her lessons when I cannae risk her getting hurt.”

  “But ye be fine wi’ the risk afore she got hurt,” Gavin told him. “This wi’ teach her tae pay attention.”

  “And caution.”

  “Pain be a fierce teacher.”

  “I ken ye be right, lads,” Greer admitted as they crossed the hall. “I love her.”

  From the corner of his eye, he saw them exchange knowing glances.

  “Ah, that be the truth, then,” Gavin commented. “But loving her also means letting her make her choices, Greer.”

  Sitting down at an empty table with a sigh, Greer set his face in his hand wearily. “I just want tae protect her.”

  “Then teach her tae protect herself,” Jared said. “Ye cannae always be wi’ her. And that Sassenach devil wi’ come back, ye ken it.”

  “I dae.”

  Though Myra still lay in her chambers recovering, the knife lessons in the meadows continued. The clansmen Greer sent out the afternoon before returned, and with Kerr at his side, listened to their reports.

  “Laird MacAnders be sending a dozen good warriors tae help protect the villages, Laird,” one informed them. “And he said tae tell ye King Robert did send word tae Edward o’ England that his Sassenach murderer be risking a war wi’ Scotland.”

  Stunned, Greer exchanged a long look with Kerr. “Well, now,” Kerr breathed. “That be interesting indeed.”

  “And Edward will try tae stop Primshire?” Greer asked.

  “Remember, lad,” Kerr cautioned him. “We be the only ones tae suspect it be Primshire. We nae hae the evidence we need.”

  “What will Edward dae, ye think?”

  Kerr smiled thinly. “What would ye dae in his place?”

  “Command the northern most noble tae find this killer and hang him.”

  “Exactly.”

  Greer began to laugh. “And that be Primshire himself. I wager he be tied in knots right about now.”

  ***

  With Myra on the mend and healing fast, Greer set out with Gavin and Jared to meet with William Murphy at their designated meeting spot. They rode out shortly before dark to arrive a few hours later, only to find William there, waiting for them. Greer dismounted as William stood up to salute him.

  “What is that devil up tae, William?” Greer asked, clasping his hand.

  “He done killed a wee shepherd lad, laird,” William replied. “A Sassenach.”

  “Ye sure?” Greer asked, incredulous.

  “Aye. I saw the body myself. He were murdered just like the lasses in Scotland.”

  “Sae yer da be right,” Jared said. “He cannae find Scots tae slay, sae he turn oan his own.”

  “Aye,” Greer replied faintly, staring into the night. His thoughts raced. “But how dae we prove he did the fiendish deed?”

  “We need tae catch him in the act.”

  Greer eyed William. “That would mean we hae tae follow him. We cannae withoot him seeing us.”

  “Nay, laird,” William said, his voice earnest. “Perhaps we can set a trap, ask a lass to agree to be bait. When he attacks, we seize him.”

  “That could work, Greer,” Jared said, his tone hopeful.

  Greer shook his head. “Terrible risk tae the lass. But I agree tae consider it. We heard that Edward o’ England be warned that he risk a war wi’ Scotland if he dinnae stop this killer.”

  William nodded, his grin clear in the faint starlight. “He did. I were part o’ his escort when the royal courier did tell Primshire. He is tae find this murderer and hang him.”

  Gavin laughed aloud. “Primshire be in a right tangle now, eh? He cannae blame some poor lad and hang him, then start killing again. He’d look like a right fool.”

  “It might work if he could stop the killing,” Greer added. “Me da thinks he cannae.”

  “I agree, laird,” William replied. “That be why he killed a Sassenach, he cannae control himself.”

  Greer nodded thoughtfully. “Dae ye believe yerself still safe, lad?” he asked. “Perhaps ye should return wi’ us now. I dinnae think ye can find out any evidence being as ye are.”

  “Maybe I can,” William answered. “Perhaps I can follow him when he gaes hunting. He not likely tae see a single man tagging behind him.”

  “The word of a commoner be nae good against a noble,” Jared pointed out. “It nae worth the risk, William.”

  “And I am nae willing tae risk ye sae. He be a rabid animal, lad. He wi’ turn oan ye faster than a snake and he wi’ kill ye. Nay, I think ye should come back wi’ us now.”

  “Let me stay three more days, laird,” William asked. “If I find nothing out by then, I wi’ return wi ye.”

  Greer glanced at Jared. “What do ye think?”

  Jared shrugged. “Willnae hurt another few days. He may hear something o’ interest.”

  “So one of my soldiers is a traitor.”

  Greer yanked his sword from its sheath before the voice stopped speaking. Jared and Gavin did the same, jumping forward to protect Greer as William, less experienced, was last to pull his blade out. The Earl of Primshire stood atop the hill, two men-at-arms flanking him. Three more soldiers, arrows nocked and bows drawn, stepped out from the shadows at its base.

  Chapter 14

  “What are Scottish vermin doing on my lands, eh?’ the Earl of Primshire asked, his voice harsh. “Outside of trespassing that is. Come to steal my herds?”

  Greer bared his teeth in a snarl. “Come tae prove that ye be a murderer of young lasses and Sassenach shepherd lad.”

  Though he could not read his expression, Greer sensed his words struck the Earl hard, for he said nothing in reply. Greer gazed around at the three men who aimed their deadly arrows at himself and his companions. “Ye wish tae serve a coward, lads?” he asked. “A murderer of helpless women, of a Sassenach shepherd? One o’ yer own people?”

  As they were closer, he clearly saw them hesitate, lick their lips, glance sidelong at one another. “Aye, ye heard the rumors that Primshire be a cold blooded killer who senselessly killed one o’ yer own.”

  “He’s a liar,” Primshire thundered. “Don’t listen to him. All Scots are heathens who worship the devil. They all deserve to die.”

  “Come face me, coward,” Greer challenged, glaring up the hill at the shadow atop it “Come off yer hill and cross swords wi’ me.”

  “I think not. I’ll just let my bowmen fill you full of arrows.”

  “That’s because ye nae be a man wi’ balls,” Greer jeered. “Ye cannae face a real man. All ye can fight be helpless women and lads.”

  Greer spat on the ground. “Eunuch. Craven beastie that crawls into a hole o’ a night.”

  Primshire screamed, a demonic sound. “Kill them!”

  Greer didn’t wait. Throwing himself to the ground, he rolled toward the three archers, the arrows hissing from bowstrings to fly over his head. Uncurling quicker than the men-at-arms could either nock another arrow or draw a sword from a sheath, he attacked them. With Jared and Gavin at his side, he ripped into one of the soldiers, struck him down with the flat of his blade against his head. The man’s eyes rolled white, then he dropped to the ground.

  The other two tried to fight, to get their swords out, but Gavin and Jared were too close, too fast. They, too, chose not to slaughter what they deemed all but defenseless men. One soldier ducked under Gavin’s swing, unsheathing his sword at last, but Gavin’s hilt crashed into the side of his head. Like his fellow, he fell soundlessly to the grass. The third tried to run, but Jared’s flat sent him rolling to the ground, yelling in pain before a second blow knocked him out cold.

  Looking up, Greer found Primshire had vanished. Lunging for his horse, he vaulted aboard and kicked the horse into a gallop. Rounding the hill, he heard the sound of hooves crashing through the heather, curses floating back to him on the night breeze as the Earl and his other two soldiers fled for their lives.
Greer reined in.

  “Coward!” he yelled. “Ye cannae run forever, and I wi’ find ye. I wi’ kill ye.”

  The sound of hooves vanished under the sough of the wind in the heather as Greer turned his horse to trot back to the others. Curses abounded as William fought to rise, Gavin holding him down, saying, “Hold still damn ye, I gotta get the arrow oot.”