Sutherland's Secret (5 page)

Sutherland had been gone for three days and two nights. Eleanor had not slept well in that time. Each night she’d woken after only a few hours with a scream on her lips, her heart pounding, her body taut with terror. She’d curled up on the bed, desperately trying to push the horrible memories away.

The nightmares never took on a specific form but rather flashes of images.

Metal bars.

Heavy manacles.

Chains.

Unbearable thirst and hunger.

The whips…

She swung away from the window she’d been staring blindly out of and paced to the other side of the room. Once a day she ventured from her suite of rooms, but she never went farther than the great hall. She spent most of her day roaming the rooms assigned to her. They were beautiful rooms, decorated elegantly and almost solely in different shades of blue. She’d discovered a cupboard of exquisite gowns, almost all in blue. But they were out of date and didn’t seem appropriate for the Scottish weather and weren’t her style at all.

Weary of her own company, she headed toward the great hall. Her stomach was growling. It never seemed to get enough food. That wasn’t surprising, considering she’d had barely any food for almost five months.

As she always did, she melted into the shadows of the great hall and simply observed. Sutherland’s people were always laughing and jesting among themselves. They went about their duties with a smile. The hall was well kept, clean and dust-free, the tables scrubbed after every meal. She was content simply to watch their comings and goings. No one except Cecilia approached her, though many gave her quizzical looks.

“Good afternoon, my lady.”

Eleanor jumped. She put a hand to her suddenly pounding heart and looked at the woman with the red-blond hair and wide, inviting smile.

“I’m Hannah Sutherland. My husband is Lachlan Sutherland, the Sutherland’s second in command.”

Lachlan. He was the one who had seemed surprised to see Eleanor alive. She was still worried about that, although not as much as she had been. Sutherland had not indicated in any way that her days were numbered. Surely he wouldn’t waste food and clean water on her if that were the case. Would he? Doubts she thought she’d laid to rest rose again. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t trust these people, and yet she found that as time passed, she wavered in her convictions, lulled by a soft bed, warm food, and welcoming smiles.

“Are ye hungry?” Hannah asked. “It’s been a long time since ye broke yer fast.”

Eleanor studied the smiling woman, who seemed to take her appearance in the great hall in stride.

“I’ll bring ye some food and we can sit down together.”

Hannah hurried off, leaving Eleanor to herself, still in the shadows. She returned soon enough with a heaping plate of food and placed it on the nearest table. Eleanor’s stomach rumbled. She looked at Hannah, who was watching her. The woman knew exactly what she was doing. For a moment Eleanor was angry that Hannah was forcing her from where she felt safe. But the lure of food drove her from the comfort of the shadows, and she took a tentative step away from the wall. When no one shouted at her or even looked at her, she took another step until she was standing in front of the plate of food.

“Sit,” Hannah said with a smile as she patted the spot on the bench beside her. “It has to be lonely up there in the chambers all by yerself.”

Eleanor sat and reached for the fork. Hannah watched her eat, which made her self-conscious. She forced herself to take small, dainty bites, like she’d been taught, instead of scooping the food into her mouth like she really wanted to do. She was a bit embarrassed by her performance in the woods when Sutherland had given her the hare to eat. She’d been so famished, so light-headed from lack of food, that something had overtaken her and she’d acted like an animal. Nothing had ever tasted so good as that day-old hare.

“I know ye do no’ speak, but we’re all curious as to yer name,” Hannah said. “We’re no’ sure what to call ye.”

Eleanor smiled as she took another bite of food.

“We can guess,” Hannah said brightly. “We’ll start at the beginning and work our way through. Let’s see now.” She put her finger to her lips and studied Eleanor.

Eleanor bit back another smile. Despite everything, she was beginning to like Hannah. She’d already determined that even though Cecilia talked a little too much, she liked that girl as well. The Scottish were friendly, open people. Much better than the English, who had—

She stopped that thought before it could finish.

“Annie?” Hannah asked.

Eleanor shook her head.

“Alice?”

Good Lord, they would be there for years if Hannah kept on like this.

Eleanor had a thought. With her finger, she traced the letter “E” on the table. Hannah watched her finger closely, then looked up at Eleanor. “ ’Tis a good idea, but I canno’ read.”

Eleanor’s shoulders slumped. She hadn’t realized how badly she wanted her new friend to know her name. It could be dangerous, though, telling these people what her name was. Especially if she were being hunted by their enemy.

Hannah patted her hand. “Not to worry. The Sutherland knows how to read. They’ll be home soon. Any day now.” She looked longingly toward the great door, no doubt missing her Lachlan.

A servant girl called to Hannah, and with a quick “excuse me,” Hannah left Eleanor to her food. For once her stomach was satisfied and she pushed her plate away. Like Hannah had just done, she looked at the door longingly. Not searching for Sutherland—although that was part of it, and something she wasn’t willing to think too hard on—but because it led outside.

To the sun.

Hesitantly she stood and looked around the great hall. For once it was completely empty. She could hear noises coming from what she supposed was the kitchen area, but other than that, she was alone.

She hurried to the front door on feet that barely hurt anymore. Cecilia had brought her a salve that she rubbed into them every night. It smelled horrible, but it had done much to heal her tender soles. She still had not put on shoes, and was swathing her feet in strips of cloth, but she wasn’t hobbling like she used to.

She made it to the door and wrapped her fingers around the handle. No one stopped her. No one yelled at her. No one came running. She opened the door to a flood of sunlight and pulled in a deep breath. Scotland had the cleanest, crispest air she’d ever inhaled.

She stepped out of the castle for the first time since she and Sutherland had ridden in.

Here it was more crowded. People hurried about their business, whatever that might be. Some looked at her, but none stopped to tell her to get back inside.

She descended the steps and stood in the middle of the bailey, turning her head up to the sun. Oh, it felt so
good
. The last time she’d stood in the sun…

The memory came, sharp and painful, almost doubling her over. The last time she’d stood in the sun had been to watch her husband hanged.

Tears leaked from between her closed lids. Not tears of sorrow—although there had been plenty of those—but tears of joy. She’d always taken the sun for granted, had never really stopped to enjoy the warm rays on her cool skin. She’d never turned her head up to the sun and closed her eyes to see the bright orange behind her lids.

A commotion from the main gate had her opening her eyes to find that Sutherland and his men had returned. She didn’t want to acknowledge the flutter of excitement in her stomach at the sight of Sutherland sitting atop his large mount, the sun glinting off his dark blond hair. He was so big that it was frightening and at the same time reassuring. He’d told her numerous times that she was safe with him, and she believed him, knew it to be true. It was a relief to know that those broad shoulders would shield her.

But she also knew that she could not let him protect her. Protecting her would bring danger to his door. However, where was she to go? She couldn’t return to Edinburgh, where she had been living before her imprisonment, and she couldn’t return to her family in England because her presence would bring danger to them as well.

A shadow fell over her, and she blinked up to see that Sutherland had dismounted and was standing before her. “Heavy thoughts?” he asked in that rolling brogue that made her want to shiver.

A cry came from behind her. She turned to find Hannah flying down the steps and into Lachlan’s arms. Lachlan picked up his wife easily and lifted her high before planting a kiss on her lips. Hannah wrapped her arms around her husband’s shoulders and kissed him back.

With a growl, Sutherland took Eleanor by the arm and directed her toward the door of the castle. “Find an empty bedchamber, for the love of God,” he shouted over his shoulder.

As soon as they entered the great hall, people swarmed around, talking to him all at once. The crowd separated Eleanor from Sutherland and she drifted back to the shadows to observe. Hannah and Lachlan entered, skirted the crowd, and hurried up the steps. Sutherland sat and listened to everyone. Some came to him with petty problems. Others came to welcome him home. He accepted them all, even though Eleanor could tell he was exhausted. She didn’t know where he had been or what he had been doing, and no one had offered to tell her, but whatever it was, he’d not slept.

Eventually the crowd dispersed and people returned to their duties. Sutherland stood wearily and stretched his arms above his head, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. He was so strong. So male. She was drawn to him and didn’t want to be drawn to him.

He opened his eyes and looked directly at her. For a long time they were frozen like that, each looking at the other, this strange sensation pulsating between them. An awareness that she’d never encountered with anyone else. Not even her husband. It disconcerted her.

“I’m fair to falling asleep on my feet, wee’un,” he said. His voice was so beautiful. So rich and deep and inviting. “Did ye do what I asked? Did ye practice yer speaking?”

She nodded.

“And?” He raised a dark blond brow.

She shook her head with a frown.

“Nothing, eh?” He shrugged those massive shoulders. “It will come, I dare say. And I’m sure I’ll rue the day ye do start to speak.” He smiled, and her heart melted in her chest at the beauty of it.

She pointed at him, then put her hands together as if in prayer and leaned her cheek against her hands.

His bright blue eyes twinkled. “Are ye telling me to go to sleep, lass?”

She nodded and grinned. The twinkle in his eyes faded. He looked at her so seriously that she stopped grinning and her stomach clenched in apprehension.

“What am I to do with ye?” he whispered.

She looked down at the ground. He couldn’t have known that those were her thoughts as well. It was frightening, having nowhere to go and no one to go to. She felt so alone in this world she knew nothing about.

She touched his arm and pointed up the stairs, then used her sign for sleep.

He chuckled. “Aye, I believe ye’re right in that, at least. I’m powerfully tired.” He looked at her again, the silence between them palpable. “Go back outside and enjoy the sunshine. Ye look like ye haven’t seen it in a long while.”

She watched him walk up the steps, then she turned back to the door and headed out into the sunshine, contemplating a future that looked very bleak, indeed.

In his chambers, Brice unbuckled his scabbard and dropped his broadsword next to the bed. He stretched again. Every muscle ached, and he looked longingly at the bed. What he wouldn’t give to fall into it right now. But he had one more thing to do before sleep could claim him.

“Ye called for me, my lord?”

“Come in, Angus.” Brice turned to the man who was in charge of the castle when he was gone. Angus had been a fierce warrior in his day, but an old injury had incapacitated him. He was not able to ride long distances, but he was very well suited to his present position.

Angus stood with his hands clasped behind his back, causing Brice to smile. “You can relax, Angus. I trust everything went well in my absence?”

“Aye, my lord. Nothing to report.”

“What about the woman?” Brice was conflicted when it came to the lass. He was attracted to her. It was too powerful for him to deny. The grin she’d bestowed on him down in the great hall had weakened his knees. And the crude form of sign language she’d used had warmed his heart. She was willing to converse with him in her own way, and that cheered him. At the same time, he wasn’t willing to completely trust her. She was English, he knew, though he hadn’t proved it yet. And until he learned who she was and why she’d been on that road for him to find, he would remain cautious. So he’d had Angus keep an eye on her, and Cecilia had orders to report anything suspicious to either him or Angus.

“She remained in her chambers most of the time, my lord. Occasionally she ventured to the great hall but never partook in meals with us. Today Hannah managed to coax her out to eat.”

Brice hesitated to voice his next question, but he had to know. “And at night?” Angus had been ordered to put a guard on her door at night.

“If she slept, it wasn’t much. She was heard to roam the rooms at night. Sometimes the guards could hear her…” Angus looked away as color crept into his creased face. “Weeping.”

So her nightmares continued. Sutherland felt guilt for not being there to soothe her. However, he couldn’t run back to the castle every night to hold the lass in his arms—much as that thought appealed to him.

“Thank you, Angus.”

Angus hesitated. “Should I keep a guard on her tonight as well, my lord?” Though his expression was neutral, Brice got the impression that Angus knew Brice would go to her on the nights when he was home.

“Yes, please.”

Angus nodded and left. Brice fell on the bed and was fast asleep before his head hit the pillow.

He was awakened by a scream and was up and heading toward the lass’s chambers before he knew what was happening. The guard looked torn about whether to enter. Brice waved him away and strode in. He knew what he would find, and he was correct. She was writhing on the bed, her mouth open but no sound escaping other than a garbled moan. Brice, still half asleep, lifted the covers and crawled into bed beside her to take her in his arms.

She calmed immediately and snuggled to his chest, her nose pressing against his nipple. In the back of his mind, before sleep claimed him again, he marveled that it was the middle of the night and he’d slept all day.

When Eleanor awoke, she was warmer than she had been in a long while; in fact, she was almost hot. It was a wonderful feeling. She also felt rested and was pleased that she hadn’t had another nightmare. She wasn’t certain she could have handled another night of roaming the rooms in order to avoid sleep.

She kept her eyes closed, stretching her legs, arching her feet. She groaned at the exquisite feeling of lying on a feather mattress under a pile of heavy blankets with a soft pillow under her head. Except the pillow wasn’t as soft as she remembered it to be. It was quite hard, but oh so warm.

She opened her eyes and screeched, jumping out of bed so fast that the bedsheets twisted around her legs and she went crashing to the floor.

She lay there for a moment, looking up at the ceiling, while beside her the bed ropes squeaked. She scrambled to her knees and peered over the edge of the bed. Her heart nearly faltered.

Brice Sutherland was lying on his side, leaning on his elbow, his head supported by his hand, smiling at her with twinkling eyes. “Good morning to ye.”

She could only stare at Sutherland, a million questions crowding her throat but never to be spoken.

“Ye’re wondering what I’m doing in yer bed, aren’t ye?”

She nodded.

His expression softened. “Every night ye call out in the middle of the night, writhing with horrible nightmares. Ye have since I found ye on the road. The only way to calm ye is to hold ye in my arms.”

Her eyes widened. No wonder she hadn’t been able to sleep when he was gone. He’d been coming to her room every night and
sleeping
with her.

“Ah, now. Do no’ look so enraged. Most nights I lay on top of the bedsheets, but last night I must have been so tired, I just climbed right in. I can promise ye that nothing untoward happened.”

She huffed out a breath and rolled her eyes, causing him to chuckle.

“O’ course ye knew that, right?”

She nodded and lowered her gaze.

“I’ll, uh…” He slipped out of bed, and she was relieved to see that he was dressed in his kilt and shirt from the day before. “I’ll be leaving ye now.”

Eleanor stood and rounded the bed until she was before him. He looked down on her, those soft blue eyes so clear.

She opened her mouth to say thank you, but of course no words emerged. She blew out a frustrated breath, wanting to express her thanks. Not many men—none she knew—would have done what Sutherland did. Especially with a woman he barely knew and didn’t trust.

She rose up on her tiptoes and placed a quick kiss on his lips, closing her eyes as their lips touched. A frisson of sparks raced down her back, and she opened her eyes to see that he had not closed his at all but was looking at her with a heat that made her tremble. She dropped down and stepped back.

“Ye’re welcome,” he said in a husky voice.

He walked toward the closed door on the other side of the bedchamber—not the door that led to the hall. She supposed this one opened into his bedchamber. He paused and turned back to her. “I’m sorry, lass, but I’m leaving again today and won’t be back tonight.”

She nodded, although inside she yelled her objection. Part of it was because she didn’t want to face her nightmares alone, but there was another side. She didn’t like when he was gone. There was a hole in her life and in the fabric of castle life when Sutherland was absent.

He left, closing the door silently behind him.

Cecilia entered from the hall door, and Eleanor rushed to her, grabbing her arms. Cecilia pulled back, her eyes widening. “What’s wrong, my lady?”

Eleanor mimed writing on a piece of paper. Cecilia stared at her with brows drawn. “I do no’—”

With a frustrated sound, Eleanor moved her hand across her palm as if writing.

Cecilia’s brows rose. “Oh, ye want paper and a pen?”

Eleanor nodded and pushed Cecilia toward the door. Cecilia dug her heels in, and Eleanor made another frustrated sound.

“Be calm, my lady, I believe there are writing implements in the escritoire right here.”

Eleanor raced to the escritoire and pulled a drawer out so hard that it fell to the floor, along with a quill and a few sheets of paper. She quickly scooped them up, found an inkwell that had a few drops of unhardened ink in it, and wrote. She folded the paper, then motioned for Cecilia to help her dress.

Cecilia chattered while she laced Eleanor into her gown, and all the while Eleanor fidgeted, afraid Sutherland would leave before she could give him her note. As soon as Cecilia finished with the laces, Eleanor bolted out the door. She didn’t have shoes on; nor were her feet bound.

She raced down the steps and out the front door, barely aware that the servants stopped what they were doing to watch her.

Sutherland was just about to mount his horse when the lass came flying out of the castle. He dropped back to the ground and watched her make her way to him. For a moment he feared something was terribly wrong, but the look on her face didn’t confirm that.

She stopped in front of him. Her bare toes peeked out from beneath her gown, and her unbound hair fell in unruly waves around her shoulders in a beautiful tangle of golden blond.

“What do ye need, lass?”

She took his hand and pressed a folded piece of parchment into it. He stared at her, the edges of the paper biting into his palm. She looked at him expectantly with those beautiful dark blue eyes.

He pulled his gaze away and made to open the note. She made a sound, took his hand, and curled his fingers into his palm, crinkling the paper. She pointed to the gates.

“Ye want me to read it after I leave?”

She nodded. As when they were alone in the great hall, the air around them thickened and pulsed with an attraction that was ill advised but impossible to ignore.
Galad
stamped his hoof and blew out a loud breath, breaking the spell between them. Brice mounted his horse, still clutching the note.

When they crested the hill and Castle Dornach had disappeared from sight, Brice pulled Galad to the side and motioned for his men to keep moving. He unfolded the paper.

One word was written on it.

Eleanor
.