Return of the Highlander (25 page)

She nodded her head.

“They also told me that the Highlander was running off after he stabbed your father. Is that what happened?”

“So they say.”

He leaned back. “I’m so sorry you had to suffer through all of that, Larena. No doubt you are terribly distressed.”

She nodded and swigged more of the claret.

He sat in silence, watching her for a moment. “I’m not clear about why this happened,” he finally said, “or how you escaped the castle walls. Reports say the gate hadn’t been lifted since last night and I have guards patrolling the battlements at all hours. How did you get your father out?”

“We escaped through a window on the east wall,” she lied. “Darach lowered a rope.”

“No one saw you?”

“It was dark and very late. Luck was on our side.”

“I see.” He paused. “So you admit you played a part in your father’s escape. Was it your idea?”

She was not calculated in her responses. In fact, she hardly cared what came out of her mouth, for the future mattered not at all. She had no hopes or dreams left in her heart. The world seemed like some sort of waking nightmare.

“It was Darach’s idea,” she told Gregory. “He suggested it, and it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“I had been led to believe that he had passed through the castle gates last night and was on his way back to Kinloch. Yet here you sit, telling me that he returned. How did he get back inside?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. All I can tell you is that he knocked on my bedchamber door after I said good night to you and told me that he could rescue my father. Because of what I knew was in store for my father at the Tolbooth, I agreed.”

“So it was not something you plotted before you arrived at Leathan,” he said.

“No. It was completely spontaneous. And foolish, I now realize.”

“Indeed.” Gregory rested his temple on a finger and continued to regard her with meticulous scrutiny. “May I ask you something, Larena?”

“Yes.”

“Are you in love with that Highlander? Or rather,
were
you in love with him?”

She took a deep breath and let it out. “I suppose I must be honest with you, Gregory.
Yes
. I don’t know how it happened. It just did. I didn’t plan it.”

“I want to believe you,” Gregory replied, “but I need to know the truth. How long have you known him? Were you betrothed to him before you accepted the proposal to become my wife?”

Larena looked up. “Goodness, no. I assure you that I entered into that arrangement in good faith. I only met Darach for the first time after the ambush,” she explained, “when he came to my aid.”

Gregory cocked his head to the side. “You don’t think it’s possible that he played a part in organizing that ambush, so that he could get his hands on you and ultimately your father?”

“I don’t think so,” she replied, her attention sparking. “He didn’t even
want
to escort me back here. He made it very clear that he didn’t like Campbells—and that is putting it mildly. Angus had to command him to do it. I didn’t even like him at first. I thought he was an arrogant bully, but eventually I came to rely on him and….” She paused. “He gained my trust.”

Gregory inhaled deeply, stared at the empty hearth for a few seconds, then he sat forward again and laid his hand on her knee. “May I tell you something about that Highlander?”

With growing unease, she nodded.

“When I first met him here in this very room yesterday,” Gregory said, “I knew there was something familiar about him, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. After dinner, when you left, it came to me.”

Larena’s stomach began to burn. “What was that?”

“The fact that Darach MacDonald was not a true MacDonald,” Gregory explained. “He was an imposter. How and when he adopted that identity, I cannot be sure, but this much I know: He was a Campbell by blood and a son of your former chief, Ronald Campbell.”

Larena’s eyes lifted with apprehension.

“You might not remember him,” Gregory continued. “You were only six years old when he and his brothers went off to the battle at Sheriffmuir. He would have been much older than you. Fourteen or so. He had shorter hair then. He was thin and lanky.” Gregory’s eyebrows pulled together with frustration. “But I should have noticed the resemblance when he first walked in, for he once chased me up a tree and sat there on the branch for a full hour, not letting me come down. I should have remembered those dark, sinister eyes. I was distracted, I suppose. Then I recalled all those days in my youth when I was persecuted in the worst way. He and his brothers were the foulest of the bunch. They were cruel and violent. Did you see that side of him at all?”

She shook her head. “No. He was very kind to me.”

Although that was partly a lie, for she had seen a dangerous side to him at first. He had been most intimidating in the early days of their acquaintance, and she had seen him snap the bone in his brother’s arm without the slightest hesitation.

In addition, she had seen the bloody knife in his hand that very morning. The knife that killed her father….

Nevertheless, she still didn’t want to believe what Gregory was saying. Heaven help her, she didn’t want to believe
anything
about this day.

“He was kind to you,” Gregory explained, “because he wanted to use you to seek vengeance upon your father.”

Good Lord, what else did Gregory know about this?

He sighed and noticed that her glass was empty. He rose to his feet, went to fetch the decanter and poured her another drink. As soon as he was seated again, he crossed one leg over the other and said, “Do you remember what we discussed during dinner last night? I told you about the rumors surrounding Ronald Campbell’s death—that your father murdered him during a hunt.”

“And I told you that they weren’t true. There were witnesses who saw what happened. He fell from his horse and that is all. My father is innocent.”

“The witnesses were Jacobites who supported your father and wanted him as chief, so I wouldn’t trust their word. But you see, that is why I believe Darach was using you—to seek out his own justice against your father. An eye for an eye, so to speak.”

Larena bowed her head and shook it. “This has been a trying day, Gregory. I cannot think straight anymore. It all feels like a terrible nightmare from which I cannot wake.”

Gregory touched her knee again. “None of this is your fault,” he said. “I believe you were taken advantage of in the worst possible way by a villain and an enemy. Do you see that now?”

Her eyes lifted and she saw compassion in Gregory’s eyes. “I don’t know.”

He sat back. “Obviously you need time to recover.”

“Yes.” She set the claret on the table and wondered when she would ever be able to
feel
anything again, when all her emotions seemed to be made of cold clay.

“You must go back to your chamber and rest,” he added, rising to his feet. “I will have a bath arranged for you and supper sent up later. All I want to do is ease your pain, Larena, and protect you. I hope you know that.”

She frowned up at him with dismay. “How can you say that when I just admitted that I loved another man?”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t love. How could it be after such a short period of time in his company? You didn’t know the real man. Surely you must see how you were misled and seduced.”

She tried to make sense of it all, but couldn’t.

“You and I have known each other all our lives,” he continued, brushing a finger across her cheek. “I have loved you devotedly for years and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I only hope that you can find it in your heart to remember why you agreed to this marriage in the first place. You knew it was the best thing for your clan, and for
you
. I will do anything to make you happy, Larena. Give this a chance and I will say no more about what happened between you and the Highlander.”

“But…I don’t understand how you could forgive me. You don’t even know what happened.”

“I don’t want to know,” he firmly told her.

Larena swallowed hard. “But I am under arrest for aiding my father—a convicted criminal. The officer put me in irons and locked me up in the prison.”

Gregory cradled her chin in his hand and cupped it, hard. “You were a victim in this, Larena, nothing more. You were practically abducted. Darach MacDonald—or Campbell, whatever you want to call him—was your enemy and that is what you must accept. In terms of your arrest, I have already wiped that slate clean.”

She swallowed uneasily and looked up at him. “I should…thank you.”

He laid both his hands on her shoulders and squeezed firmly. “No thanks are necessary. You are the love of my life and always will be. I will do whatever it takes to make you my wife.”

Suddenly, he pressed his mouth to hers in a rigid, invasive kiss that caused her eyes to fly open in shock. He pulled her tight against him and thrust his tongue into her mouth.

Larena’s stomach exploded with revulsion. She pushed him away and wiped at her mouth with the back of her sleeve. “What are you doing? My father just died.”

Gregory blinked at her with confusion, then he squared his shoulders. “I suppose that was ill timed. Clumsy of me.”

The intensity in his voice and the manner in which he wet his lips sent a shiver down the length of her spine. It was not the same sort of pleasurable shivers she’d experienced with Darach. This was something else entirely. She felt only anger and disgust, which was unfortunate, since Gregory seemed genuine in his affection for her and in his desire to ensure that she was safe and protected.

But would she ever truly feel safe and protected? Could she love him? Did she want to marry him?

No, most assuredly not, which left her in a difficult position indeed, for where else did she have to go? And what did she know about love anyway? Clearly nothing.

According to her father, she had a duty to hold onto the castle for the good of the Campbell clan, despite the presence of the English army.

But her father was gone now. Her clan had scattered.

She had never felt so completely alone in all her life. She was surrounded by blackness.

She curtsied respectfully to Gregory and walked out.

Chapter Twenty-eight

In the dream, Darach was riding Miller bareback across a lush green valley. Miller galloped gracefully, almost as if they were flying. He was white in the dream.

The scent of meat filled Darach’s nostrils and suddenly the dream changed. He found himself dashing through dark, stone corridors in an unfamiliar castle, rushing past flaming torches on the walls. For a moment he thought he was being pursued, then he realized he was the pursuer, chasing after that familiar hawk from other dreams. It had become trapped and was searching for a way out. Darach wanted to guide it, to free it from the castle interior, to thrust it upwards toward the sky.

He woke with a start and sat up. He was in a dark room with a curtain over the door. It was nighttime.

His back and shoulder throbbed with pain, so he lay back down on the pillow, fatigued by the sudden movement.

Where was he? More importantly, where was Larena?

Closing his eyes, he searched through his hazy mind for the last thing he could recall.
Ah yes
…. He’d been running for his sword in the glade while Larena tended to her father.

Darach had stabbed him. He remembered all too clearly the shock in Fitzroy’s eyes when he realized the knife had stuck him in the belly.

Then the soldiers had come….

Larena?

Darach tried agonizingly to sit up again. He glanced at the curtain across the door. There was a strip of light under it.

He was in a cottage.

Whose cottage? Where?
Were these friends or enemies?

Sitting all the way up, he carefully put his feet on the floor and took a moment to find his breath. He was just beginning to feel like he might be able to stand when the curtain swept open and he found himself staring into the eyes of a small, red-haired child. She stared at him in shock, then let the curtain fall closed and called out, “Ma! He’s awake!”

The sound of voices and chair legs scrapping across a plank floor provided some warning that others would soon appear to gape at him. Sure enough, the curtain was thrown open again.

It was a woman this time. She was small and plump with red hair like her daughter. She wore the Campbell tartan as a sash.

A man stepped into view behind her. He was much taller, fair-haired, and lean. He also wore Campbell colors. “We weren’t sure you’d live,” he said.

“I was shot,” Darach explained, “by English soldiers.”

“We figured as much. We heard the musketfire from here. Then we saw the soldiers riding across the field with two prisoners, but they left you behind for some reason.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Darach replied, hunching forward as a fresh wave of pain erupted at his back. “I gather you brought me back here? How long have I been out? And did you see which way the soldiers were heading? Was it in the direction of Leathan Castle? Was there a woman with them?”