Highlander 0f The Woods (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance)

by Alisa Adams

  “His eyes are just like yours,” she told Rory, laughing softly.

  “Are ye tellin’ me I look like a horse?” he asked, horrified.

  “No,” she laughed. “I am telling you that you both have gentle brown eyes.”

  “Stop it,” he replied, laughing softly. “Ye are makin’ me blush.”

  She was very close to him now, and the vapor from their breaths mingled in the frosty air. They were looking into each other's eyes, and for a moment there was a warm silence between them, before, propelled forward by an urge too strong to resist, she closed the gap between them and pulled his head down for a kiss. She was surprised and embarrassed when he pushed her away.

  He was looking down at her with an expression she could not quite identify. Was it annoyance? Frustration? Whatever it was, it was not pleasant. “Rory?” she asked, puzzled. “What is it?”

  “I do not want tae kiss ye,” he said angrily. “It will only make things harder for me, lass.”

  Absently, she realized that it was the first time he had ever called her anything but “milady.”

  “For me too,” she murmured. “I care about you.”

  “And yet ye are marrying Hugh,” he pointed out, and there was pain in his eyes.

  She stared at him in disbelief then laughed bitterly. “I have nothing but contempt for him,” she said scathingly. “You know why I am marrying him, Rory! I already told you it is because I have no choice! Surely you are not too stupid to realize that?”

  He nodded slowly, but when he spoke, in spite of her insult, there was no anger in his voice, just an infinite sadness. “Ye did tell me, but I suppose I could never really believe it. Such things do not happen in my world. Then this is the last time we can see each other.” He whispered the words because he could not trust his voice to speak without cracking. “In a wee while ye will be Vanora Devine an’ I will be naebody. I cannot be wi’ ye like this. It gives me too much pain, because...because I love ye too much, an’ because we can never be together.”

  She sighed with relief. “I am sorry for insulting you, Rory, and I love you too,” she whispered. “You protect all of us, not just me. I will think of a way to stop this. Kiss me, please. I will not be able to bear it if you do not.”

  Rory stood, trembling with the effort of not giving in to his deepest desire, but when Vanora put up a finger and touched his soft lips, his willpower deserted him. He kissed her, not like the first time, but with a hunger born of need and desperation, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and savaging her lips with his. Then he pulled her against him and she wound her arms around his neck. When they drew apart they both knew that they must try to stop the wedding. Their love was too powerful to be thwarted.

  12

  It was raining the next morning, so much to their disappointment, the girls could not go to the market. They finished all the food that Rory had brought and then went down to breakfast; there was plenty of food since the staff could not refuse to go to the market, rain or not. After they had finished, Daniel McKay stood up and clapped his hands for silence.

  “You were all here to witness the terrible events of last night when someone tried to poison my friend Hugh,” he began. “Fortunately, the monster who attempted such an evil act did not succeed. Hugh is recovering and is in good spirits once more. He will have to rest for a few days but you will soon see him up and about as if nothing had happened. Now, who did this?” He frowned as he paced up and down the room, looking at everyone pointedly as he passed them.

  “This evil deed was particularly heinous because...” He stretched his words out for extra drama. “Because the person who did it was trusted completely by the person in whose service he was employed. So you may be asking, ladies and gentlemen, who can this devil be?” Daniel was enjoying himself now.

  He paused again and stood behind Cousin James, putting his hands on his shoulders. James turned and scowled at him. “Could it be James?” he asked, looking around at everyone. A protest rose up from Fiona and Alec at once. Daniel laughed. “Of course not! This house and its lands are mortgaged to the hilt and James owns that debt, so if he wants his money back he needs Hugh alive! No, it is not James.”

  He went around the table a little and paused behind Fiona. “No, it cannot be Fiona either, because Hugh holds a very precious possession of Fiona’s and only Hugh knows where it is.” He cast a malicious smile over Fiona’s shoulder at the rest of the table. Fiona had a face like thunder and Vanora shivered.

  He stood behind Alec. “Now it could be Alec, as it is well known that he and Hugh have hated each other since they were boys all because their mother has always favored Alec over Hugh. She still does, in fact. She has often said that she wishes she had never given birth to Hugh.”

  “That is a terrible thing to say!” Fiona cried, breaking the silence. She was appalled at Daniel's conduct, despite her bitter feelings towards Hugh.

  “Nevertheless, it is true, milady.” Daniel smiled at her and she looked away, unable to stand the sight of him anymore. “But it was not Margaret Devine since Hugh is the apple of her eye. It was not the laird since he needs his son alive to get him out of debt.” He paused, drawing out the suspense.

  “It could have been you, milady,” he went on remorselessly. “I do not think it was one of your sisters since they are as yet too young and innocent, but you”—he looked at Vanora with narrowed eyes—“simply do not have it in you to be a killer. You girls are all too much like your gentle mother. I know you very well, milady. So it was not you either.” His gaze shifted upwards to lock with that of Rory.

  “Rory Murdoch, it was you who attempted to kill Hugh Devine.” He stopped suddenly while all eyes turned to Rory, who was standing as still as if he were made of stone.

  “No!” Vanora jumped up and stood in front of Rory, holding out her arms and shielding him with her body. “Rory has saved my life by killing four men who were about to rape and murder me. He was almost killed himself. Why would a man like that want to kill Hugh?”

  “Are you in love with him?” Daniel asked.

  “No, he is merely my bodyguard,” she said in a contemptuous tone.

  “And does he love you?” Daniel went on.

  Vanora glanced back at Rory. “If he does, I have no knowledge of it.” She frowned, apparently puzzled.

  “You are sure?” Daniel asked slyly.

  “Yes! I am sure!” Vanora thumped her fist on the table.

  “Do you trust him?” Daniel was relentless.

  “With my life!” Vanora’s voice was almost a roar. “He is a wonderful guard, and we get along well, but we have no other kind of relationship.”

  “Then as you have such a good opinion of him, I am sorry to say that he has been deceiving you.” Daniel sounded sorrowful, but Vanora knew better.

  “And how did you come to this conclusion, Uncle Daniel?” Vanora asked scathingly.

  Daniel half-turned and crooked a finger to summon a servant from behind him. The man put a garment that Vanora recognized as Rory’s jacket into her uncle’s hand; it was too big to be anyone else’s. It bore a dark, spreading stain as if something had been spilled on it, and Daniel watched Vanora’s eyes as she stared at it, clearly puzzled.

  “Are you wondering what the mark is?” Daniel’s voice was low, smooth, and evil.

  Vanora nodded, suddenly chilled to the bone with fear as he produced a small earthenware flask. “Wolfsbane,” he announced. “Fortunately it is in water and only a little was used, for it is deadly.” He turned and held up the jacket, then pointed to Rory. “It is in this man’s jacket. Vanora, if Rory Murdoch married you, he would become laird and owner of the Weir Brae estate, but to do that he would have to get rid of Hugh Devine. So you see, he has a very good motive for murder.”

  “Anyone could have put that bottle there!” Vanora said disgustedly. “This man saved my life, and I know him as well as I know myself. He would give his life for me and has almost done so in the past. Someone placed that b
ottle there to make him look guilty, but I will never believe it, so let us stop wasting time and find the real culprit.”

  Daniel shook his head, smiling indulgently at her naïveté. “Such innocent love,” he sighed. “Of course you will believe no slight against him; he has hold of your heart.”

  “That is not true!” Vanora shouted angrily.

  He was about to speak again when Rory interrupted. “May I say a word in my own defense?” he demanded, his deep voice echoing in the large chamber.

  “Of course you may,” Daniel replied reasonably. “Even condemned men deserve a fair trial.”

  Rory’s usually gentle brown eyes became hard as glass. “I had nothin’ tae do wi’ Hugh Devine’s poisoning. He means nothin’ tae me an’ his fate is none o’ my concern. Milady Vanora may marry whom she pleases. I am her bodyguard, no’ her lover.”

  “Ah, but you would like to be, would you not?” Daniel asked craftily. “One of my guards saw you kissing Lady Vanora last night. Explain that!”

  Rory’s heart jumped into his mouth, but he straightened himself to his full intimidating height and stared unflinchingly at McKay. He decided to brazen it out.

  “Then one of your guards is mistaken,” he growled. “Perhaps he was drunk.”

  “You deny it?” McKay asked. He was incredulous but admired the man’s courage.

  “Aye,” Rory’s voice did not waver.

  Daniel’s gaze turned to Vanora. “I suppose you deny it too?”

  “I do,” she replied firmly. “Rory is merely my bodyguard. If he tried to kiss me I would have him disciplined then dismissed. As he said, your guard was likely drunk.”

  “He is one of my most trustworthy guards.” Daniel was beginning to doubt himself. Guards had been known to be drunk on duty before. Then he thought of something. “Do you swear you are telling me the truth?” he asked Vanora.

  She looked him squarely in the eye. “Bring me a Bible,” she said, her voice firm and defiant.

  Daniel’s gaze slid away from her.

  “Very well.” He crossed his arms and tilted his head back to look up at Rory. “There is nothing else to be said. You will wait in the dungeon while your fate is decided.”

  “No! No!” Vanora screamed, and threw herself in front of Rory, reaching out her arms on either side to shield him. “He is my protector and you will not take him away from me!”

  Daniel signaled to two of his guards and each one took one of Rory’s arms. He shook them off without any apparent effort and then clasped his hands together to make a club, which he brought down with a roar on one of their heads. The guard went down like a felled tree. Rory swept his arm sideways and caught the other on the side of his face with his elbow, but just then two more joined the fray. One jumped on Rory’s back and pulled his neck back, choking him, while two others took a leg each and prevented him from walking. The last one brought his sword hilt down on Rory’s head. He was dazed, in great pain, and his head was bruised and bleeding, but he would not give up—even with four men trying to subdue him. However, the guard gave him another blow and he finally fell, unconscious, to the floor.

  Vanora had to be restrained by Daniel and a guard. She was screaming and writhing in a vain effort to be free, but to no avail. The soldiers dragged Rory’s limp body downstairs and she heard the thump of his feet as they hit every stair. The more she struggled, the tighter the men’s grip became. Finally, she gave up the fight. Her body had run out of strength, but she was not finished yet. Her voice was ominous and threatening as she said, “You will pay for this, Uncle. I swear you will! I curse you; I curse you to a lingering, agonizing death, and may you burn in the fires of hell for all eternity!”

  Daniel let her go at once as if she had stung him.

  She turned to him, her eyes blazing as she looked into his terrified eyes. “Are you afraid, Uncle?”

  Daniel shook his head, adopting a lofty, nonchalant air. “Of course not!” he said dismissively. “That is superstitious nonsense.”

  “No, it is not.” Marion stepped up to Daniel while Ella went to hug Vanora. “I have seen things in my dreams you would not believe, things that would scare you witless, Uncle Daniel. If you are afraid now then stay afraid.”

  At that point, Vanora burst into tears, breaking the spell that seemed to have fallen on everyone.

  Daniel was shaken, but he had recovered. “Words are worthless,” he said scathingly. “Go away, little girls.” Then he turned and walked out.

  Strangely enough, the only person who seemed to be showing any emotion was Hugh’s mother, who was weeping silently and being comforted by Fiona. Vanora wondered if anyone liked Hugh.

  13

  Daniel McKay was tired. Keeping up a deception as devious and complicated as this one involved telling many, many lies, and Daniel was not a good liar, even though he had had plenty of practice. He knew that Hugh the Elder was no fool, and although he did not have much use for his oldest son, he was still his flesh and blood, and Hugh Senior would make sure that no harm came to him.

  Daniel knew that Rory had done nothing to harm Hugh, but he had played into Daniel’s hands by resisting arrest in such an aggressive way. If he could almost defeat four men, Daniel would ask them to imagine what he could do to a little woman. Vanora would be much safer with a sap like Hugh Junior.

  Daniel despised young Hugh. He thought him indecisive and greedy, weak in body and mind. He was not even handsome, and although there was nothing he could do about that, a strong character was sometimes more attractive to a woman than good looks, which would fade and disappear in time. Hugh had neither looks, nor humor, nor personality, but it suited Daniel to flatter and praise him, for Daniel needed him.

  He had a meeting with the Devines that night, and he was not looking forward to it, so he bolstered himself with two large glasses of whiskey before they came into the parlor where he was waiting, and he greeted them with outstretched arms and his most convincing expression of false concern.

  “How is my friend, the young Hugh?” he asked anxiously.

  “Why do you care?” Hugh demanded harshly. “You have not been to see him once.”

  This was true because Daniel hated sickrooms. The smell of vomit and the noxious vapors of medication made him feel nauseous, but that was not a reason he could give to the family of the sick man. His face took on a hurt expression. “I beg your pardon, Hugh, but I thought it was best to let the family have time alone with him. Now that I have your assurance that things are fine, I will go and see him as soon as we have talked.”

  “No need.” Hugh held his hand up. “The wise woman has given him some valerian tea, so he should sleep ’til morning.”

  “And he is recovering?” Daniel asked with apparent concern. “I would hate to think that the wedding would have to be postponed because of this unfortunate incident. I will make Rory Murdoch very, very sorry indeed. This may be your house but the entire organization of the wedding is my responsibility. I sent my staff to help yours, trusting them to do what was necessary, and one of them has done this heinous thing…” He trailed off, apparently lost for words, but when he spoke again his tone had changed. “I did not think it was one of any of them, but then Rory is not really employed by me.”

  “So who employs the big lout, then?” Hugh asked. Margaret sat forward in her seat, her posture tense and frightened. “Tell me the idiot’s name and I will strangle him myself.”

  Daniel looked at the craggy, glaring face in front of him and had no doubt that Hugh meant what he said, but he shook his head regretfully. “I do not think you would be able to do that, Hugh,” he informed him. “The man you want is not a man but a woman. Vanora employs him herself, and as you saw last night, she is absolutely besotted with him. He is over ten years older than she is, so he is also much more mature, and he has taken advantage of her innocence in every way—”

  “Every way?” Margaret asked, eyes wide with fear. “You mean...”

  Daniel shrugged. “Calm yours
elf, Margaret,” he replied. “I doubt very much that we are speaking of her virtue. He is huge in stature, as you saw, so he gives her an illusion of security. She is only seventeen, and as naïve as a baby, so you can understand why she thinks that way. However, he is almost thirty and has buried one wife already.” Daniel sat back and waited for a reaction. He had sowed a seed of doubt and fear, and now it was bearing fruit.

  “Buried one wife?” Margaret gasped in alarm. “What do you mean, Daniel? What did she die of?”

  “I do not know,” he lied. He knew perfectly well that Elisaid had died of measles, but it was much better that the Devines believed that she had died at Rory’s hands. “To be fair to Rory, we must give him the benefit of the doubt. There is no evidence that he laid a finger on his first wife, but you have seen how big and strong he is. He could have struck her and killed her without meaning to in a fit of temper. Men do these things.”

  A spasm of anger crossed Margaret’s face, and Daniel knew he had struck a nerve. She was obviously a victim of the same kind of treatment.

  “So she fancies she is in love with him,” Margaret said slowly, her brow creased in thought. “And will most likely do anything he tells her to do.” She looked up at Daniel desperately, then at her husband. “We must keep her away from him. Daniel, what are your plans for this monster? Will you keep him in your dungeon? Send him to trial? What?”

  “I am surprised that you have to ask,” Daniel answered. “Why, I am going to execute him of course. I am going to hang him, and I am going to invite Vanora to watch.”

  “But that is cruel!” Margaret cried.

  “And what he tried to do to our son was not?” Hugh protested, glaring at his wife with a look she knew too well. “I agree with Daniel—let her see it. It will teach her a lesson about trusting too easily and too much. I think she should marry young Hugh and as soon as possible. He is not experienced at running a household or an estate, but he will learn...although he does not learn very fast.” He sighed. He loved Hugh as he loved all his children, but he had to admit that he was not the quickest to pick up new ideas, or indeed think of any of his own.