Highland Deception (Highland Pride) Read online

  After she finished her tea and had a piece of bannock with honey, she swayed with weariness and almost fell from the chair. Lachlan took her arm, helped her up, and guided her to the larger of two small beds in an adjoining room. It was cooler here, despite the door left ajar for heat from the cook fire.

  “With the rain, ’tis good we have a place to stay inside tonight.”

  She didn’t attempt to clear the fog in her head and hadn’t even known it was raining. “Whose bed?” Her lids fought to close before she could lie down.

  “’Twas Father Ailbert’s. The other is Robbie’s.” Lachlan pulled the blankets back and eased her to sit on the mattress.

  He knelt down in front her, and her heart beat faster at the nearness and intimacy of the position. If he’d looked at her she might have come undone, but he was unlacing the dirty, old man boots she wore. A sigh escaped. He set her shoes aside and rose to his full, intimidating height.

  “Robbie has found ye some clean clothes.” Pointing to the edge of the bed where a white shirt and some trews similar to the ones she wore lay folded, he shrugged. “’Twas that or priest’s robes.”

  The idea of clean garments of any kind had her smiling. He nodded to a small bowl resting on a table in the corner.

  “There is water in the basin for washing. Mayhap ’tis still warm,” he called over his shoulder as he left the room.

  She went to the basin and picked up the cloth beside it to wash the day’s dirt from her face and hands. A brush lay on the table as well. For all that he didn’t trust her, he had still thought of her comfort. Odd for a man to consider her needs.

  After washing, she spent several motherents running the bristles through her tangled hair. Undressing and placing the dirty clothes in a pile at the side of the room, she put on the crisp shirt and laid the clean trews and stockings on a side table. Lachlan came back through the door and froze, his gaze fixed on her. Comfortable but exhausted now, she didn’t try to analyze what he was thinking as she sat on the bed.

  “Climb in and move to the other side.” His voice sounded strangled, almost as if it were a plea instead of a command, but she was so drowsy that she did as instructed and shut her eyes before thinking to ask, “Why?”

  “’Cause we’ll be sharing the bed,” was what she imagined he said, but she was nearly asleep.

  At some point during the night, Maggie woke with Lachlan’s arm around her. It was comforting, and she nestled into the warmth of the embrace as she relished the security of his hold. He hadn’t attempted to woo her, only kept her encircled like a treasured possession in his strong arms, and that’s how she knew it was just a dream.

  No one has ever valued me.

  …

  Maggie woke to the sound of deep male laughter and voices not belonging to her brothers. Early-morning light streamed in through threadbare curtains, and a cross hung on the wall, reminding her where she had slept. She rose, pulled on the clean clothes and her boots, and walked into the other room. Seamus had reappeared, but Alan was missing. Lachlan stood near the fire, and his gaze met hers as she crossed to sit on the only open chair at the larger table.

  “Good morning,” she said and was greeted with a chorus of the same. Talk continued, but she found it impossible to concentrate on the cadence of the conversation because she could sense Lachlan’s stare penetrate her as he studied her from the side. Her face flushed as she remembered they had shared a bed the previous evening, and every man in this house knew it.

  Robbie jumped up from the seat beside her but returned shortly with a bowl of oats with cream. She focused on it until she mustered the courage to look up and noticed early-morning rays of light streamed in from a nearby window, and clear skies showed no hint there had been rain during the night.

  After eating, she followed Lachlan and Seamus out of the cottage to finish their journey north but stopped in her tracks. “Blessed Mother” escaped her lips as Malcolm bumped into her from behind. The burned remains of what had once been a church moldered just outside the door.

  Lachlan turned, and his perceptive scrutiny bored into her. Her hand had flown to cover her heart, and a shroud of darkness seeped into her core. “’Tis a church?”

  “Aye.” Lachlan took a step toward her.

  “What happened?”

  “Covenanters.” His eyes darkened as the words passed coolly through his lips, almost as a hiss.

  “Why would someone do that?”

  Lachlan’s eyes shifted only motherentarily toward Robbie, but she caught the slight movement. Her gaze darted in the same direction, and she saw the lad trudge toward a fresh mound of dirt. Her eyes watered as the implications hit her.

  She made the sign of the cross and shook her head. ’Twas why Robbie had been given the other bed—it truly was his, and the priest he lived with must have been killed in the fire. Her heart broke for him because she understood loss. The grief never went away, just mellowed with the passing of time.

  “Ye took him in?”

  “Aye, he is under Cameron protection now.”

  Lachlan’s arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. “Come, lass. We’ll give him some time.” He drew her toward the horses.

  A tear slid down her cheek. “Why?” she asked again as her gaze returned to the scorched ruins.

  “No one can explain evil men.”

  She nodded as another tear trailed down her cheek. She knew that all too well. She’d only known one truly evil man, and she would say a prayer of thanks every day to never see him again.

  Maggie was grateful they traveled at an unhurried pace through the morning, since Lachlan kept looking over at her as if he expected her to fall off her horse at any motherent. It was a good thing, because she might. Her head still pounded, and she could barely keep her eyes open even though she had slept well. Och, she wanted to lie back down. She wished she were still in the soft bed and the safety of Lachlan’s strong arms, but at the same time she tried to fight the guilt of how comfortable that had been. Her time with him was only a temporary solution and she’d be on her way soon, besides she couldn’t let down her guard and risk her heart.

  Maggie swayed and caught herself. She forced her eyes wide and took a deep breath.

  “We break.” Lachlan’s voice came from right beside her as he pointed to a spot up ahead she couldn’t focus on. He was suddenly unnervingly close.

  She furtively glanced through her eyelashes at the man riding near her. He made her feel safe and had awoken a desire inside her no other man ever had. Her mind battled with her body, which yearned for him to touch her, kiss her again.

  His gaze drifted her way and caught her eyes. A crooked, mischievous grin slowly emerged. An intense, heated stare made her ache with a desire she was becoming all too familiar with, and she blushed.

  The smoldering glance he returned said he was aware of what she was thinking. She didn’t see revulsion in his eyes—he looked interested. Mayhap she’d mistaken his intentions yesterday when she’d run from him.

  The blues of the vast clear sky blurred by with occasional white puffs of clouds, and she found herself relaxing into the rhythmic thud, thud, thud of the horses’ hoofbeats and the men’s silence as they worked their way home. As the greens of dense shrubbery, pines, and oaks, the deep purples of the heather, and violets of thistle dotting the hills drew her into their beauty, she found it increasingly difficult to keep her lids open.

  Before she knew it, they’d stopped and Lachlan was at her side, pulling her down from her horse. Thankful she didn’t have to expend the energy to stay upright on her own, she leaned into his body. He steadied, then guided her over to a large rock and gently nudged her to sit. He turned and left, so she stood and stretched, because sleep would overtake her if she didn’t move around.

  As the life came back into her limbs, they started to revive, and the fogginess in her head abated. When he returned with bread and dried meat, he held some out to her.

  “Sit,” he ordered, and she
did, because she was no longer afraid she’d tumble over with weariness. She was struck by how small and vulnerable she felt next to him, but at the same time how at ease she was in his presence, despite his massive build.

  “Eat,” he said. He broke off a piece of the bread and handed it to her then bit into a piece of the meat.

  “I’m no’ so hungry,” she said, but she took a bite anyway.

  “Does yer head still hurt?”

  “Nae, I’m just so tired.”

  “It may take ye some time to recover. My sister was always tripping over something and hitting her head. Once she was dizzy and in bed for a week.”

  “Ye have a sister?” She popped another small piece of bread in her mouth. Mayhap she was hungry after all.

  “Aye. She’s just a wee bit older than Malcolm. Ye remind me a lot of her.”

  “How?”

  “Kirstie is just as stubborn as ye and always gets her way.” Lachlan’s smile gave her the impression his love for his sister ran deep.

  “I’m no’ stubborn.” She pouted.

  “Aye, ye are. Ye have a way of turning things to get what ye want. She could always talk me into the craziest things, too.”

  “I always wanted a sister. Will I get to meet her?” Mayhap a sister wouldn’t have been a good idea—she wasn’t certain she would have been able to keep one safe from Conall.

  “Nae, she isnae at Kentillie.” A cloud covered his eyes.

  “Is she married, then?”

  “Nae, she went to live with our cousin. She’s been there for a couple of years now.” Lachlan’s smile faded, and he looked off into the distance.

  “Ye let her go?” She couldn’t wrap her mind around a man who would allow a woman to choose a path he’d not planned for her.

  “She has her own mind, and I couldnae temper her spirit by forcing her to stay somewhere she didnae want.”

  “Most men wouldnae let a woman make her own decisions.”

  “That may be so, but I’ve kenned women more intelligent than most men. ’Twas no’ my place to stop her.”

  “Ye are her laird.”

  “Aye, but I have a heart and wouldnae see her be miserable.”

  “My father and brothers dinnae share yer views.”

  “Then they need to open their minds and hearts.”

  She was astonished. She’d probably found the only man in all of Scotland who could find his way into her soul.

  Even if his touch had not set her ablaze, now she wanted to give herself to him before she was forced into seclusion. Her one taste of intimacy would be with a man who valued her not as a woman who could be bartered for his own gain, but as a woman to be respected.

  Out of all the men she’d known, he was the only one that threatened to tear down the fortress she’d built around her heart. It was a shame he didn’t want to wed, because if she could ever see herself with anyone, it would have been a man like Lachlan Cameron.

  …

  As the sun sank, it cast pink shadows on the clouds, and the beauty of it, as Lachlan held her close, gave her a calm reassurance that warmed and comforted her. It had been years since she’d had a sense of security so strong that flashes of her friend’s broken body didn’t intrude.

  ’Twas blessed peace to be out in the fresh air of the pines and see the changing landscape as the mountains rose to touch the heavens. They wove in and out of glens and open fields littered with fragrant heather. Traversing the forests had become difficult with jagged, uneven earth posing a risk to the horses, so they had moved onto well-trodden paths. Lachlan had insisted she ride the remainder of the afternoon with him, and she was secretly grateful he had, because shortly after they had set off again, she had nestled into his arms and fallen asleep with the steady movement of the horse.

  She was refreshed after the afternoon nap, and clarity had returned. Her head hadn’t even hurt.

  They stopped and set up camp at the edge of a clearing. Once again, Lachlan helped her dismount. I could get used to this, she thought as her body slid down his solid chest and a flutter started in her stomach.

  They sat quietly in a circle while Malcolm started a fire. Seamus, the quiet man with his intimidating size, carved a little wooden dog out of a piece of wood for his youngest son.

  Movement out of the corner of her eye caught Maggie’s attention. A large buck emerged from the trees. She didn’t want to scare it away, so she put her fingers to her lips to signal the men to silence.

  They watched intently as she reached over for Malcolm’s bow and silently pulled an arrow from the quiver. The deer was a good distance away and it would be a tough shot, but she focused on the buck and moved soundlessly into a perfect, braced stance.

  She pulled the bow up and notched the arrow. Pulling back, she tested the tension of the string, and when she was comfortable, she placed her head close to the bow and squinted, carefully aiming, then releasing the arrow. It flew directly on course. A broadside shot landing just behind the shoulder sent the deer limping off weakly into the woods.

  “Where did ye learn that, Maggie?” Malcolm questioned.

  She turned to him and winked. She couldn’t say until recently she had been allowed to run free with her three brothers, as they might be able to figure out who she was.

  Robbie chimed in, “That was incredible.” His eyes were bright with appreciation and, for a motherent, the overly serious lad looked like the boy he should have been. She wondered why he had been living with a priest.

  “Maggie, lass, ye dinnae just touch a man’s weapon like that. Ye might hurt his pride if ye are better with it than he is,” Alan joked.

  The Highlanders burst out laughing. She didn’t get the jest, but she smiled along until her gaze fell on Lachlan. Though he chuckled as well, his gaze appraised her as if she’d given too much away. Did the man no’ miss anything? She berated her impulsive nature for making him think she might in some way be dangerous, or worse.

  “Did I do something wrong?” Maggie asked, confused by his continued open assessment.

  “Nae, Maggie. ’Twas verra impressive. I have never seen a lass make a shot like that,” Lachlan replied as his gaze lingered. He made his way over and took the bow then handed it back to Malcolm. He pulled her down to sit so close to his side it was almost intimate.

  “Alan. Ye want to go get dinner, or should I send the lass to do what ye couldnae?” he jested and then turned toward her. “Do ye ken how to dress them, too?”

  She warmed under his scrutinizing gaze, and a blush crept up her cheeks. “Nae, I never did that part.”

  The cleaning had always been done close to home, and neither she nor her brothers would have risked her father seeing her involvement. She was a better shot than all of them, which was why they always brought her when they hunted. They took the credit, and she got what she needed out of the bargain—a reprieve from the confines of the stifling castle walls. She averted her eyes and wondered what she’d given away in her hasty decision to take down the deer.

  Later, as they settled in for the night and she lay on her back staring up to the stars, she tried to imagine her life confined in a convent. Lachlan’s pallet was spread sinfully close to hers, and he scooted in to bridge the distance between them, making it painfully hard to imagine a life of chastity. Even through the blanket wrapped around her, he lay so near she could feel the warmth of his skin. Without warning, he lifted the wool fabric and crawled under with her, and although she thought to protest, the part of her that ached to feel his touch kept her silent. Mayhap here was a man worthy of her trust, one who respected his sister enough to honor her request to leave Kentillie.

  He inched closer and whispered in her ear, “Who taught ye how to use the bow?”

  His close proximity shut down her defenses, and she could no longer lie. Despite his suspicions, he had kept her safe, and she owed him as much of the truth as possible. Hopefully he’d keep to his promise not to send her back or push her into more telling confessions.

&
nbsp; She whispered back, “The only attention I got as a child was from my brothers. They would take me out. They taught me to hunt, to ride, to do a lot of things most girls are not taught.”

  Memories tugged at her heart, and she gave a sad smile. Her brothers and father weren’t all bad—they just didn’t listen to her when it came to matters that affected the clan.

  “How did yer mother feel about that?” he asked.

  Rolling over so she could gaze into his eyes, she swallowed, because their lips were only inches apart and hers craved the feeling of his being pressed against them.

  It was somehow crucial that he understand she was being honest, that she was trusting him. She was almost secure in the knowledge that if she told him her father was Duke of Kirk he would find a way to help her, but she was not yet ready to take the risk. Still, she’d never tell anyone the whole truth.

  “She was too busy yearning for my father’s affections and cursing his infidelities. She hardly ever noticed me when I was around. That is, until I got older.” Her eyes glazed over, and she looked away as she fought the old pain of not being enough to make her mother happy.

  As a child, all Maggie had wanted was her ma’s love and affection, but the only thing she ever received was indifference. She tried being the perfect daughter, sewing and cooking, but her mother had ignored her efforts. Then she’d gone through a rebellious spell when she’d even stolen from the kitchens and played pranks on her brothers, but nothing ever garnered a response other than a, “Mayhap yer father would still love me if I had not birthed all ye babes.” That’s when she quit trying.

  “Why when ye were older?” He lightly stroked her cheek, and she turned in to the caress. Her eyes closed to savor the feel.

  Her lids slowly rose. “Because when I was old enough to listen, she would tell me how much she loved my father with one breath, and how much she hated him in the next.” A sigh escaped.

  “She shouldnae have taken her grievances with him out on ye.” His hand left her face.

  “My father was never faithful, and it broke her heart. It is all history now, anyway.” She pursed her lips and avoided his gaze.