The Scot's Quest (Highland Swords Book 4)

by Keira Montclair

  He only slept for half the night before he was awakened by a woman’s wild screams. The torturous sounds were so awful that he couldn’t imagine what would have caused them. He ran into the great hall, expecting to see someone had fallen down the staircase or suffered some equally painful injury, but no one was there.

  A lithe form flew down the staircase and then across the great hall. Dyna. He called out to her, but she ignored him, racing toward the tower.

  He followed her up the twisting tower stairs, which ran around the edge of the tower in a circular fashion, and through the first door on the second floor. She paused in the doorway of a private chamber. Although he stayed behind her, he could see her sister flailing wildly on a bed close to the door, her screams wild. Their mother sat in a chair across from her, kneading her hands while Dyna reached for Claray and spoke to her in a soft voice. “There, there. I’ve killed them all. They’ll not bother you again.”

  Connor came out from an attached chamber, wrapping his arms around Sela. “Another one so soon?”

  “Aye,” Sela replied. “I have no idea why they are starting up again. Dyna, you must go back to sleep or you’ll get sick again. ’Tis why I didn’t want you sleeping in the tower. How could you hear her?”

  “I felt her screams, Mama,” she said softly. “I didn’t need to hear them.” She started rocking her sister back and forth, singing softly. Her fingers ran through her sister’s dark red waves, a soothing ministration that clearly calmed her.

  Something softened inside of him. If this wasn’t proof of a soft heart, he didn’t know what else could be. Perhaps he’d just found the answer to part of his quest. Alex Grant would probably have seen this situation many times. The fact that no one else had come up to the tower at such a torturous sound indicated this was a common occurrence.

  “Can I help?” he whispered, afraid to break the spell she had cast over her sister.

  Dyna shook her head and waved him back out the door. He left, though he wished to speak with her. He wished to know what had happened to make her sister scream so. Dyna had said she’d killed them all. Killed what?

  Back in the great hall, he grabbed an ale from a side table and took a seat in front of the hearth, the dying embers still crackling out enough heat to warm him.

  A few moments later, Dyna entered the hall, coming over to take the chair next to him.

  “She is better?” he asked, offering her an ale.

  Dyna refused the ale, let out a deep sigh, and leaned over to rest her elbows on her knees. “Aye.” He could hear a hitch at the edge of her voice, as if she were fighting tears. She stared at the floor as if embarrassed by her emotions.

  “May I ask what caused it? What was she striking out at with her arms?”

  Dyna sat back up, her battle with her emotions over, and said, “Spiders. She thinks she’s killing spiders. Thinks they’re attacking her.”

  “What? Why?” It wasn’t until he asked that he remembered the conversation they’d had at MacLintock Castle. Els had said something about spiders, hadn’t he?

  “My mother was forced to work for an evil group of men. One of the ones who controlled her was a twisted person named Hord. He liked to collect spiders, and if Mama didn’t follow their instructions, he would place her in a small chamber and unleash a bag of biting spiders.”

  “Bloody hell. But Claray?”

  “My mother did something this Hord didn’t like, and one day he sent Claray into the chamber with her. My sister was three. My mother still has nightmares about it occasionally. Claray seems to go in streaks. They’re back again. She fights the spiders in her mind.”

  “So they were both bitten by this large horde of spiders?”

  “Aye. I try verra hard not to imagine it, lest I succumb to the fear myself. My father, grandfather, and grandmother rescued them from those bastards. Hord came back to kidnap Mama, and my father killed him.”

  “I’m sorry you all have to deal with such a thing.” He glanced over at her, still beautiful even though she’d been sick for days. The longing to touch her, to hold her stole over him, but he fought it. “How do you feel? Better? You were quite sick in the cave.”

  “Aye, I’m not completely healed, but I feel much better. My thanks for getting me back here safely. I don’t recall the ride home at all.”

  Derric snorted. “Because you slept through it. You leaned against me and didn’t wake up until I carried you up the stairs to put you on the bed. Your mother took over then.”

  “When are you leaving?” She rubbed her hands together in front of the hearth.

  “Probably on the morrow, or I may wait one more day. I have a favor to ask.”

  “Go ahead. If I can help, I will.”

  “I’m heading north to join Robert the Bruce’s camp. I would like you to come with me. I think you’d be a big help to our cause, especially since we don’t have many archers and the ones we have don’t possess your skill.”

  She nodded slowly. “As soon as I’m well enough, I’d like to go on this mission with you.” She glanced over at him then, rubbing her hands together. “I know something’s coming—a battle—but I don’t know where. I only know it won’t happen here.” Her gaze turned more intense, scrutinizing him. “I also know there’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “Aye.” Damn if the lass wasn’t too perceptive by half.

  Unable to look her in the eyes, he stared at his own hands, flexing his knuckles. “Robert told me one of the camp followers I spent time with last year has a bairn. He wondered if the wee lass might be mine.”

  Dyna said nothing but arched a questioning brow at him.

  “’Struth is I don’t know. I did my best…” He cleared his throat, wondering how much detail to give an innocent like Dyna. “I tried not to father any bairns. But I intend to search her out to learn the truth of it. Robert told me Senga was in the north. I would like to meet up with her to see if ’tis possible I have fathered a bairn.”

  “And you’re telling me all this why?” she asked, her voice hard. Not that he was surprised.

  He stood and paced in front of the hearth. “I didn’t wish to surprise you.”

  “And if you do have a daughter?” she asked, not looking at him.

  “Then I’ll offer her mother marriage. My sire taught me to be responsible.” And because he wanted her to come with him, he added, “I invited you along because we could really use your fighting skills.”

  Dyna rubbed her hands together again and said, “Derric, you’ve already made it clear you’re not interested in me. Consider what’s happened between us as curiosity on my part. There’ll be no more of it. You may pursue whomever you like. Let me know exactly when you plan to leave to join the Bruce, but I need to go back to bed.”

  He sat down and said, “Dyna, you’re wrong. How can you even think that after everything we’ve shared? I wish to clarify something. I am interested in you. Verra interested. Aye, I’ve had quick, meaningless relationships with women, but I’ve never been involved in something more serious. I’m not even sure how to go about this. Should I ask your father if I can pursue a relationship with you?”

  “Why? You’ve already said you’re not interested in marrying me.”

  “There is something between us. You cannot deny it any more than I can. At first, it was an experimentation or a tease, but you know it has become more than that. I wasn’t ready to pledge to marry you when we first discussed it, but aye, I do want us to consider the possibility. Is it so wrong that I wish to take our time and get to know each other better before we become betrothed?”

  “Many people are just told who they’ll marry. There’s no chance for consideration.”

  “Your parents were that way?”

  She lifted her chin and stared at the far wall. “Nay.”

  “Then is that what you want—to be told who you can marry?”

  “Nay, but I want you to be honest with me, and I don’t want you to feel forced into something beca
use my clan has threatened you.”

  He wiped his hand down his face. He’d never felt so awkward, so foolish about a conversation. “Please help me. Will you answer one question for me?”

  “If I can.” Her pursed lips told him that he’d summoned her stubborn streak.

  “Are you interested in me? In pursuing a relationship that could lead to marriage? May I court you?”

  “We’re not at court.”

  “I know that. But I thought that implied a certain level of interest. I don’t know for sure how to ask, but I’ve spent all my adult years living with men in the forest, fighting for freedom. I’m not knowledgeable about some things. Please help me here a wee bit?” His voice came out a little louder than he’d anticipated, but she was not helping the situation. He stood up. “Never mind. I can see you’re not interested in continuing this conversation. I accept your rejection.”

  He stood without looking at her and headed back toward Alex Grant’s chamber. What’s done is done. At least he knew where he stood now.

  “Derric?”

  He stopped but didn’t turn around. “Aye?”

  She came up behind him and took his hand. “I am interested in you.”

  With that short sentence, his entire world changed from frustration to hope. Turning, he caught her gaze and gave her a light kiss. “That pleases me. I hope you’ll consider traveling with me. The only way we’ll know for sure is to spend more time together. Away from here.”

  She smirked. “You mean without my threatening family watching our every move.”

  “Aye, but I can deal with that if I must. Think on it, please.”

  All Derric wished to do was take her to his bed and hold her. But he couldn’t do that, not yet, so he settled for kissing the top of her head.

  “We’ll talk on the morrow,” he said.

  “Aye.” She climbed the stairs, her head down.

  This lass had far more depth than he’d realized. He could tell her grandsire that he’d met his quest and more.

  Dyna Grant was a strong, fierce lass, and just as her grandsire had known, she also had a soft heart. He’d do whatever he could not to wound it.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dyna fell into bed, grabbing a fur and burying herself under the covers. All of the turmoil she’d felt for the last several days had been for naught. Derric was interested in her, but if she had to guess, he wasn’t going to make a commitment to her until he found out if he had a daughter somewhere.

  She wished she had the nerve to ask him not to search Senga out. What if the lass was his? He’d said he wasn’t interested in Senga, but if she was in a bad situation, Derric would probably insist on helping her out. Would he marry her to protect her?

  It was cruel of her to even think about putting a halt to it, something most unlike her, but the thought of him marrying someone else made her feel like she’d been stabbed in the chest.

  She buried her head under the covers. There was no reason to torture herself. She’d have her answer soon enough.

  When she awakened the next morn, she felt more like herself. This sickness had passed, although the strange feelings in her chest were worse than they’d been the night before. That would pass too—it would have to. She washed up and made her way down to the hall, only then realizing she’d missed the earliest group. It was several hours past dawn.

  She’d slept longer than she’d thought.

  Her mother and father sat talking at one of the trestle tables, their conversation stopping as soon as she hit the bottom step. “Greetings to you both. How is Claray?”

  “She’s fine,” her mother said. “Barely remembers the nightmare. She’s gone out to the gardens.”

  She went to the kitchens for some porridge and then returned to the hall to sit down with them, grabbing a hunk of brown bread from the loaf on the table.

  “Trouble with your friend?” her father asked, arching a brow at her.

  “What friend?” She didn’t like the fact that her parents could see through her so easily.

  “Derric. You are upset with him?” her mother asked, using that calm voice she usually reserved for Claray. It annoyed Dyna, and she stabbed at her porridge a little too aggressively—a mistake she regretted immediately.

  Glancing up at her parents to see if they’d noticed, she found two sets of eyes upon her. “I’m not upset with Derric, I just didn’t sleep well. I was hoping that Claray’s nightmares wouldn’t come back this time.” She ate a glob of porridge and mumbled with her mouth full, “’Tis about time they stopped, do you not think?”

  “You can move on with your life, daughter,” her father said softly. “Claray will be fine if you marry someone.”

  She bolted out of her seat, her voice coming out in a strangled burst she barely recognized. “Who said I wished to marry anyone?”

  Her mother reached across the table for her hand and gently pulled her back into her seat. “I didn’t wish to acknowledge feelings for your sire either. Even then, I told myself I didn’t care.”

  “Papa?” She stifled a snort. “But why? Didn’t you love him right from the start?”

  Her parents turned to stare at each other and burst into laughter.

  “What does that mean?” She knew their relationship had been difficult at the start, especially because her mother had been controlled by those bastards, but why wouldn’t she have wanted to get away?

  Her father grinned. “The first time we met, on the docks in Inverness, we stood a hand’s width apart assessing each other. Neither of us said a word, and when we did, ’twas not kind.”

  She set her utensil down, staring from one face to the other. “Truly?”

  Her mother nodded, smirking as she reached for Connor’s hand under the table. This was what Dyna wanted. A relationship like her parents’ marriage. Fierce yet tender. “Your father didn’t know I was working for those men against my will. He didn’t know about Claray. He was quite harsh, and I didn’t know what to expect from him. I’d spent years around men who were motivated by personal gain, not honor. I struggled to understand his motivations. I struggled believing his actions were true and honorable. It was a foreign idea to me. Inconsistent with all the men I knew.”

  “Papa harsh? I do not believe you, Mama. How could you believe him harsh?” She took another bite of her porridge just because she didn’t wish to appear too interested in these new details about their story. Secretly, she was awaiting every word.

  “’Tis true. I hated him. Nay, I feared him.” She studied her husband, assessing him as if they were both back in Inverness on the docks. “I was afraid to have any feelings for him because I feared he’d disappear and leave me.”

  Dyna wiped her mouth with a linen square, pondering this thought, something that resonated with her. She understood that fear because she worried Derric would just disappear, like he had so many times already.

  “When did you meet Derric?” her mother asked. “How did the first encounter go?”

  Dyna snorted, something she tried—belatedly—to cover with a linen square.

  “That well, aye?” Papa asked.

  “’Twas not the best. He insulted his own sister and I didn’t like it. Joya is one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever met.”

  “You were upset with him…”

  “Aye, Papa. He did anger me, so I reacted honestly and put him in his place.”

  “And his place was?”

  “On the ground. I tripped him and set my knee upon him.”

  “So you were on top of Derric?” her mother asked, stifling a giggle.

  Her parents exchanged a look again, and Dyna shoved aside what was left of her bowl of porridge, annoyed by their inquisition.

  “It doesn’t matter how we met, or what’s happened since,” she insisted. “There was nothing between us in the beginning, so I had no reason to handle him carefully.” She scanned the hall to make sure no one else had entered. “He might have a daughter.”

  “And that matter
s why?” her father asked. “You remember your mother had a daughter when we met?”

  “I’m aware of that, but if the lassie is his, Derric may decide to offer her mother marriage. He could choose her over me.”

  Her mother used that soft, comforting tone again. “And you’d prefer he desert his daughter and her mother? Have you asked Grandsire about this situation?”

  But she didn’t have time to answer, because her father had questions for her, too. “So he’s not sure the bairn is his? Was the mother a camp follower, who…” He scowled, his hand scratching his jaw. “Never mind.”

  “Papa, I’m not a bairn,” Dyna scoffed. “I understand the ways of men and women. So much so that I wish I didn’t have this foolish piece of skin that everyone wishes to guard so well.” That would surely put a halt to their conversation.

  Or so she hoped.

  Her mother patted her hand. “Don’t give up on the man. He has true feelings for you, whether you see it or not. And I can see you care for him. If you did not, you would never have slept well in front of him on the horse. You trust him. ’Tis why we keep questioning you about your feelings.”

  She shrugged her shoulders, afraid her voice would give her away. The thought of putting her feelings for him into words frightened her. Somehow it would make them seem more real.

  “You doubt us,” her father said. He stood and held his hand out to her mother. “I think we can show you exactly how we were when we first met. What say you, Sela? Can you dredge up the feelings you once had? The feelings that took over on that dock in Inverness?”

  Her mother stood, taking her father’s hand. Dyna had no idea what they were about to do, but no one could have pulled her away from the spectacle in front of her. She was powerless, unable to avert her gaze, her eyes riveted on the couple who stood facing each other.

  Her mother said, “I recall it verra well. My fear was that you would get me in trouble with my captors, that they would see you standing close to me and accuse me of causing the problem.”

  Her gaze changed to such a coldness that even Dyna was shocked to see.