“But she lived,” Ethan said, shooting a look to Violet, masking his shock that her suspicion about the woman having a child was right. “And with a dead husband and a boy child, she had to find another way to make ends meet. Was yer mother a healer by any chance?”
“Me maither told me she used to work for the MacFerson clan for a while and then she moved away. She might have said she was eight-and-ten, I cannae ‘member.” The lad paused to gather his words. “Then she went to Glasgow for some time, she said, and came back home. That’s when she had me sister. She told me Gavina’s father just up and left and then she found me father and I was born.” His eyes met Violet’s and he continued. “I ken all this ‘cause she told me many times and I heard her tell it to some others.”
He took in a deep breath and slowly blew it out his cheeks. He spoke slowly as he looked down and tried to bury his toe in the dirt. “She might’ve wanted me to find the MacFersons and maybe work there.” His face looked forlorn. “I ‘membered she did tell me she stopped the healing ‘cause she dinnae like being around blood.” He raised his head and faced Ethan.
And Violet was right again…
“If yer maither was a healer, that’s why she survived the ailment,” Ethan concluded. “She kent how to make medicine. But why did she nay save her husband?”
Davidh sighed, “As far as I ken, he was too far gone to be saved.”
Shooting another look at Violet he saw that she had staggered to the side and was leaning on the wall with closed eyes. Her chest was heaving and her face was flushed. He could see, no feel, that relief rushing through her body. He knew she had been feeling guilty about dragging him to two towns with no result. Her eyes fluttered open and chocolate hues that met him were warm, liquid and unfettered from worry.
His respect for her notched up. She had followed her gut—even when it was daunting— and her suspicion had paid off. Turning back to the youth, he asked, “What’s yer sister’s full name lad, if she had a different faither from yers?”
“Her name is Gavina O’Bachnon, she took me faither’s name instead of Mallory, her birth faither’s.”
“Which means she can go by either,” he said. “Dae ye ken where she would be now? We’ve searched for her for a while, from Clan MacFerson to here and nay luck.”
A resigned look darkened the lad’s eyes and Ethan felt sorrow for his sister, but Finley was dead and she had a part in it.
“Mayhap she went back to Perth,” Davidh shrugged. “She always had a… self-reliant drive inside her. Who kens where she would be, if she got what she wanted, she might be as far as Glasgow or Edina.” He stopped, then looked at them with an endearing look and licked her lips, “But ye have to understand, she is nay a bad person. I dinnae believe she would harm anyone intentionally.”
Shaking his head, Ethan replied, “I feel for ye Davidh, but if she helped in any way, she is going to pay for her acts. Where can we find ye, Davidh, just in case we need ye?”
“In Sellek,” Davidh said rather reluctantly. “I’m still an apprentice smithy there.”
Pinning the younger man with a serious gaze, Ethan dropped his tone. “If we call, dae ye promise to come?”
“If ye need me, aye,” Davidh agreed. “But I dinnae ken how I can help ye.”
“Doesnae matter,” Ethan shook his head. “Just be ready for us if we call.”
“Aye,” he nodded. “I will.”
Stepping away, Ethan allowed Davidh to move. With the younger man gone, he rested his hand on the wall as everything he had just learned began to sink in. Gavina O’Bachnon…a widow…a daughter of a healer. Under all that, Violet was right. She was right about everything! He felt ashamed about his doubts now, as all she had speculated was now proven right. Utter elation began to eat away at the last lingering strains of doubt.
A hand—Violet’s hand—dropped on his shoulder and he spun. “Ethan, are ye—”
He grabbed her waist, lifted her hand and spun her, “We did it! We did it!” Not even caring that curious eyes were on them, Ethan had to celebrate. They had nay found the woman, but they had won half the battle.
Violet was giggling and her feet were kicking, “Let me down, let me down, I’m getting light-headed.”
Grinning, he let her down, but did not pull his hands from her waist. “Ye were right,” he said, eyes liberally taking in the emotions that chased across her face and her sparkling eyes. “Thank God ye were right.”
“I’m as surprised as ye are, to be truthful,” she murmured. “I never expected to—” she shook her head wryly then smiled. “At least we got clarity on this. Ye should tell yer faither, but leave me name out of it.”
“I willnae,” Ethan stressed. “This was all because of ye. Ye should be recognized for it.” Pausing, he added, “It’s because of yer faither, innit? Ye’re scared of how he would react.” He did not have to wait for her nod to plow on. “This is what I’ll dae, I’ll tell me faither everything, he can be trusted to keep our secret, but yer faither will only ken that ye and I went riding out.”
“I’d appreciate it,” she sighed, lashes fluttering as her body lost its rigidness and her head bowed a little.
His hand lifted, aiming to cup her face in his hands and feel the softness of her skin under his rough fingers but caught himself at the last moment and dug his hand into his hair instead. Pulling away, he forced himself to be calm, “I ken our duty for today is done. Let’s get home. I ken we have had enough action for today.”
Violets head cocked to the side and her eyes ran over his face in an assessing sweep, “Is something wrong?”
“Nay.”
Yes, there is, ye fool!
“I just…cannae fully believe that we found the woman. It’s going to take me a while to let it all settle in.” His words were a part lie and part truth, and he hoped she would hold onto the truth.
Nodding, they picked their way back to the tavern with a growing stiffness between them. Ethan felt he had upset her. Looking at her with fleeting glances, he did not see the distress on her face, but he felt it. By the time they arrived at the tavern and untied the horses, he felt the guilt began to settle on his chest like a cannonball.
She got on the horse with ease and he felt bereft that he was not able to help her. They rode out and took the road to Sellek, with the same uneasy quietness between them.
“Dae ye mind if we find that smithy to make sure that Davidh said he works at?” he asked, shooting looks to her. “And then we can stop for a while to eat? Are ye hungry?”
“I am,” she replied calmly.
He felt that she was drawing away, but he did not know what to do to get her back. Even when they arrived at Sellek, he was still stumped on how to bridge the divide between them. They took the cross street from the main and went to the near end and took a wide dirt track towards a brick structure with black smoke rising in rings from the chimney.
The acrid smell of burning iron and peat made his nose wrinkle in distaste. Sliding off his saddle, he glanced at Violet who was looking around with interest. The smell did not even seem to affect her. Then again, she had admitted to being around peat.
Sighing internally, he went to the door and thumped on the wooden door with iron hinges. He stepped away and pressed a hand to his nose. Hard thumps had him step away even more. The door was tugged in and warm air spewed out. A stocky man in a thick leather apron and gloves came to the door, wiping a smeared cloth over his sweating face.
Dark beady eyes squinted at the sunlight. “Can I ‘elp ye, lad?”
“Aye,” he said, “Does David O’Bachnon work here with ye?” Ethan asked.
“Who wants to ken?” the man asked warily.
“Ethan MacFerson, son of Laird MacFerson,” he said. “Mister O’Bachnon said this is where to find him if we need him.”
He could see the notions running through the man’s mind, that there would be business from the lairdship. “Aye, Master MacFerson, it is where he works. Good lad too, very canny
and handy with all he does.”
Nodding, Ethan turned to look over his shoulder at Violet. “All right, if I need him, I’ll send for him. Good day to ye…?”
“Diarmid, sir,” he tucked the rag into a pocket on his apron. “Diarmid Black.”
Bowing his head, “Farewell, Mister Black.”
Going to his horse, he mounted it and nodding his last goodbye, he gestured for Violet to follow him and they rode off. “At least he spoke the truth. Let’s find a place to eat.”
“Somewhere with grass,” Violet said, “and under a tree.”
She sounded calm but Ethan was still apprehensive that he had put her off. She did not sound or act how he thought she felt. Riding off they came to a copse of trees away from the road. The overarching limbs of the trees were interlocking with each other and covered a spate of thick grass.
“I ken we can stay here for a while,” Ethan
A few hawthorn bushes dotted the land around them, with patches of golden wildflowers breaking up their somber look. He took the horse’s blanket off and laid it for Violet near a tree. While straightening it, he saw her pulling the short wig off and finger-combing her hair out. He felt grounded in his place.
With the wig forgone, her sable tresses spilled out over her shoulders. Her shirt was still bulky and shapeless, but her trousers fit her legs and hips like a second skin. The glossy fall of her curly hair set off her chocolate eyes and feminine features and made her into one unique picture. He doubted that there was a second woman in the kingdom who could pull off a getup like that.
Her eyes were down on the wig. “Next time, I’ll fashion ye out of lamb’s wool than goat hair.”
Spanning out of his reverie, Ethan took the sack of food, bread rolls, cheeses, some dried rabbit meat, oatcakes, and fruit from where he had placed it on the ground. “Let’s eat.”
Resting herself on the blanket, she then went to tug her boots off and flexed her toes. The roll in his hand nearly dropped. Never had he ever been drawn to a woman’s feet, but he shouldn’t be; he realized that nothing with Violet could be normal with him anymore.
“We have bread, cheese, rabbit, and fruits,” he said. “What dae ye want?”
She was rubbing the side of her neck while her eyes were closed, “A bit of all.”
With the piece of muslin that the cheese had been wrapped in, he piled some bits of each foodstuff on it and handed it to her. She reached for it and smiled. “We did well today.”
“Aye,” he breathed out, “We did. Thanks to ye. Yer insights to this ordeal are—,” he whistled smoothly. “I cannae even imagine the many lines it took for you to follow to come to those conclusions.”
“To anyone other than those who do me faither’s work, aye, it would be challenging, but after a while, being with someone who points out what to look for, yer mind just starts to work differently,” Violet said, picking at the bread. Her voice was distant and she was staring far off. “Ye begin to see things that most others would overlook and deduce things that most would say are far-fetched. Ye ken how ye can handle any sword after years of training, it’s like that. Something familiar to ye makes ye act on instinct.”
Swallowing the meat, although seasoned perfectly, tasted bland to Ethan. He dropped his bread to his lap and sighed, “Violet, I—”
Her head tilted and her smile was slight and forgiving, “Ye dinnae need to explain anything to me, Ethan. I kent today was hard for ye. I saw it in yer eyes. Ye dinnae ken me suspicions would work. Even I doubted meself at times.”
“Ye did?”
“Aye,” she said. “I feared I was leading ye on the wrong track, taking yer mind away from things that are much more important.”
“The Lairdship?” He shifted and reached out to hold her hands. “Violet, I have time to figure that out, now, me most important issue is to find who killed me brother and have them face justice.” He looked into her eyes, luminous pools of compassion and warmth, “And spending time with ye is very… eye-opening and delightful. Ye take me mind off me sorrow more times than I can count.”
“Eye-opening?” she asked, lips twitching. “Is that a polite way of saying I’m peculiar?”
“Nay, it means unique,” he said. “I’ve never seen a woman in breeches the way ye dae it.”
Going back to her food, she broke her bread. “Ye’ve seen women in breeches before?”
“Once or twice,” he said, pulling away to eat. “But they are mostly cases of a girl getting hand-me-downs from her older brother. And they are ill-fitted, large and very, er…unnatural.”
“And yer saying me in men’s clothes is…natural?” Violet prodded.
Sensing the uneasiness between them had passed, he began to eat his meal with gusto. “I dinnae ken there is a right answer for that.” He pinched off a crust of bread and flicked it into her cheek. “Ye are a lovely woman with a wonderful intuition, take the compliment.”
Swatting at him, she grinned. “Stop trying to butter me up. It’s nay working.”
“Eh,” he laughed, “I prefer fruit jams.”
“Ethan,” she said.
“Hm?”
With narrowed eyes, she smiled. “We’ve come to peace, be quiet before ye ruin it again.”
11
Unable to sleep, Violet rose and pushed the window open to allow the cool night’s wind to soothe her after the hours she had spent tossing in her bed. Placing a chair near it, she sat and looked out with unfocused eyes. When she had gone to bed after she and Ethan’s ride to Turren, the moment her eyes closed, Ethan’s face was behind her eyes.
Ethan, a lovely man with a kind soul, a humble mind and a loving heart. Hearing him praise her for her uniqueness felt miles away from the other men who would demean her while she aided her father on his cases.
Many times had she held back from giving him the tactical comfort she wanted to bestow on him, but feared he would never accept it. Ethan was still grieving for his brother and he was conflicted about taking up the Lairdship, and she did not want to burden him more.
“I suppose being conflicted goes both ways…” she murmured to the dark lands before her.
Not even a week and she was already teetering on the edge of an emotional precipice. Call it the foolishness of youth, but she felt she was beginning to love this man.
But what would I ken of love? I’ve never been courted before or on the receiving end of a man’s attraction. Ethan doesnae look at me the way others do…mayhap it’s not even love but a mix of deep relief and sympathy?
Then again…could it be the first stages of love? Was the leap of her heart when he looked at her, or the tremble that ran over her skin when he said her name, the forgoers of love? Was that the look she had caught in his eyes a time or two, his confessed admiration for her, and his praises indications?
“Can never be,” she sighed, bracing her head on her arms that rested on the windowsill. “He’s not in a position to have more feelings than what he’s already juggling.”
Her doubts were lingering in her mind, but then she still was not sure if she could cross it out entirely. Her mother had told her that her father once openly admitted that he had fallen in love with her at first sight. When she had asked her father about it, he had told her it had been sudden and powerful as a lightning strike. Could she be inheriting that trait?
She stayed at the window, letting the soothing breeze wafting from the loch nearby began to calm her. Eventually, she went back to bed and slid between the sheets. Dawn was coming soon, and she needed to rest. If she and Ethan were ready to ride out again, she needed to have some strength to do so.
The sun woke her and feeling the strength of its rays, she knew it was later than she had expected to rise. Washing quickly, she donned a frock and hurried to the main hall. At the high table, Laird MacFerson was seated with his brother, but he looked more haggard than ever.
His face was mottled and his eyes sported black bags underneath them. He and his brother were speaking and from the hand M
ister MacFerson lay on the Laird’s arm, they might have mended fences from the falling-out the day before. There was no sign of Ethan, though.
She mounted the dais and greeted each man. Laird MacFerson turned eyes heavy with respect towards her, and his slow knowing nod told her that he knew what she and Ethan had found yesterday.
Returning it with a gracious smile of her own, she sat and asked. “Where’s Faither?”
“He is preparing for a ride to Perth,” Laird MacFerson said. “Ethan told him what he had found yesterday, so he is going to find any traces of this Gavina O’Bachnon.”
The Highlander's Captured Bride (Steamy Scottish Historical Romance) Page 9
