Every Heart Has Its Day (19 page)

Eyebrows flew up on every face at the table like a flock of birds roused from a field.

The king turned to Laird Grant. “Another wife has died? How many be that now?”

“Four, sire.” Laird Grant turned to the Cameron. “Unless I include Lady Cameron. Though we had not yet spoken the vows—”

“Hold!” The king glared at Laird Cameron. “Laird Grant speaks as though he expected to wed Lady Kasey, but that canna be. Ye paid the levy because ye failed to cede Kasey to the man I declared her betrothed.”

Her eyes widened. Countless times her laird blamed the tax on her thievery. More lies.

“I tired of her cluttering my holding.”

“Ye needed but to turn her over to my emissary.”

Cameron rose, kicked away his chair, and rounded the table. He grabbed Broderick’s tunic and dragged him to his feet. “Ye wished me to turn her over to the likes of this? I wasted too many coins on the devil’s spawn to release her without profit.”

“Devil’s spawn? The pot calls the hearth black.” Broderick removed the Cameron’s hand, but remained nose to nose.

The king stepped between them. “Beside yer blatant disobedience, ye have yet to answer for yer wife’s death. I ken Brietta died by yer hand.”

Laird Cameron cackled. “And ye will do naught aboot it. Yer family’s reputation matters more than justice.”

The king straightened. “Ye be too sure of yerself, laird.”

“Yer father saddled me with a tainted bride who could birth naught but a bastard child—all to save yer family from scandal. Sentence me for Brietta’s death, and I shall bring to light yer cousin’s shame.”

Broderick clenched his teeth. “Ye dinna deserve Brietta or Kasey.”

Before Kasey could truly grasp the words the men flung at each other, Laird Cameron shoved the king to the floor, grabbed Broderick by the throat, and thrust him against the wall. Symon unsheathed his sword and held the point to the king’s chest. Laird Grant and his second-in-command each grabbed one of Laird MacPherson’s arms and dragged him through the hall’s back door.

Kasey threw a dagger into her laird’s back. She unsheathed her remaining dagger, but stopped from throwing it just in time.

From nowhere Hunter stepped between her and Symon. His arm muscles barely strained as he disarmed Symon and heaved him toward the entrance where she stood.

Kasey’s heart pounded. She gained but four steps before Symon grabbed her and pulled her back against him. He grasped her hand and pulled the dagger she held to her throat.

“Before I kill ye, I must know how ye survived the siege when my brother dinna.” Symon pulled her tighter against his chest.

“Release her! Randall died by my hand.”

Kasey’s eyes widened at Hunter’s bellow. Her captor—not Hunter—had claimed to kill Randall.

“This matter concerns ye not, Mackintosh, but it be good to see ye.”

“I should think I be the last person ye wish to see.”

“Nay, milord. Yer presence saves us the trouble of seeking ye out. After Broderick, ye will die next.”

Kasey could not stand idly. She pushed against the dagger and let her legs go limp, dragging Symon down with her.

Hunter sprang to attack.

Symon dragged her to her feet. The blade nicked her.

“Dinna make me kill ye afore ye squirm beneath me.” Symon turned to Hunter. “Yer eyes tell me ye care for this cummer. Mayhap if ye taught her well, I will let her live.”

“Ye may gladly have my leftovers.” Connor crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Just this morn she writhed in bliss beneath me.”

Kasey glared at Hunter. Why would he make such a claim?

Ever so slightly, he tilted his brow.

She hoped she understood. “Ye call that bliss? I just wanted the deed done so I could seek another.” Careful not to move her head, she raised her gaze and batted her eyes. “Mayhap ye can show me heaven.”

Symon lowered the blade enough to look at her face.

Hunter grabbed Symon’s wrist, jerked the blade from Kasey’s throat, and squeezed between them. “Let her go or I shall break yer wrist.”

“Ye will break hers, too.”

“Release Lady Mackintosh’s hand or I shall run ye through.”

“Lady Mackintosh?” Symon shouted.

Denial screamed in Kasey’s mind. Whoever made the claim must be daft.

Images of Hunter flashed. She remembered a priest, too. But the fever had wrought the dream, had it not?

Hunter tugged her hand free. She hung as still as an icicle, unsure of what to say or do. He pushed her behind his back. She should be grateful. He had saved her—again. But if the claim held truth, she might kill him.

“Kasey.”

She held up her hand. “I be too weary, Hunter.” She needed to soothe her anger before she could listen. Without as much as a fare-thee-well, she returned to her chamber.

****

A few moments later, the slam of a door echoed through the keep.

Connor stared at the head of the steps. His deceit had caught up with him. He loosened his anger and frustration on Symon. Only twice before had Connor enjoyed pummeling an opponent. Such a shame that he could not send Symon to Randall’s side.

Once the lad lay unmoving, Euan MacPherson called an end to the beating. “I almost feel sorry for him. I remember too well the beating ye gave me after I vowed to court Annie.”

Connor wiped the sweat from his brow. “I have only begun to make him suffer for all the Camerons have done to my wife.”

“There be no honor in continuing when he canna fight back.” Euan slapped Connor’s shoulder. “Best calm yerself, Laird Mackintosh, for yer biggest battle lies ahead. Yer wife looked as though she wanted to turn her dagger on ye.”

“Thanks to yer big mouth.”

“I can imagine she feels she’s been handed a fate worse than death.” Euan chuckled. “Let us carry this fool to the great hall.”

“Gavin can help ye. I need to see to my wife.”

Euan grabbed Connor’s arm. “Give her time to calm.”

Connor ran a hand through his hair. Euan might have a point. Then again, a pot allowed to simmer too long boiled over.

“Take Symon’s other side.”

They bent and each slid an arm under Symon’s shoulders. They dropped him next to his laird.

“Had that dagger not pierced Cameron’s back, he might have killed Broderick. Who taught yer wife the skill?”

“Ask Broderick. I be sure he kens.”

Euan furrowed a brow. At the table, his wife checked the emissary’s neck. He walked over and kissed her before he slapped Broderick’s back. “How fare ye, mon?”

“He will be sore for some time, but I see no serious wound.” Annie joined Connor by Laird Cameron’s side. “He still lives?”

“Aye, but I think he canna move.” Connor removed the dagger and ignored the laird’s pleas for help. “Euan wishes to ask ye a question, Broderick.”

“Laird Mackintosh insists ye ken who taught his wife aboot daggers.”

Connor placed the dagger on the table. “The full truth, if ye please.”

Broderick locked his gaze with Connor’s. “I taught my daughter.”

Connor clenched his jaw. “Ye trained her well.” He exited the great hall and the silence Broderick’s revelation brought forth. He needed to deal with this confirmation before he faced his wife.

Chapter Nineteen

Kasey slammed the door so hard it bounced back open and hit her hip. She absently rubbed the pain as she assuaged her anger.

“Where have ye been?”

She gasped at her best friend’s voice, then hung her head and sat by the hearth.

Evonne pulled a chair next to Kasey’s. “It be too soon to leave yer bed.”

Kasey placed her friend’s hand on her own brow. “Has the fever returned?”

“Nay, milady.”

“Then I have lost my wits. There be no other excuse.” Kasey sighed. “I have killed my laird.”

“Ye killed Connor?”

“Who in blazes be Connor?”

Her friend held up her hand. “Hold! Who did ye kill?”

“Laird Cameron. Ye do remember him, do ye not?”

Evonne frowned. “All too well, milady.”

Kasey reached over to pat Evonne’s hand. No matter how much her life had unraveled, she had no cause to rekindle her friend’s nightmare. “Forgive me. Mayhap someday, ye will tell me how ye suffered at his hands.”

“The past matters no longer.” She clasped Kasey’s hand. “For either of us. Let us delight in our new life.”

“’Twill be difficult to find joy in a dungeon, but I regret not my actions. Laird Cameron will never agin hurt anyone.”

“Connor will let no one take ye away from him.”

“Agin I ask ye, who be Connor?”

Evonne laughed. “Hunter, ye dolt!”

“Speak not to me of Hunter. He be naught but a liar.”

“Hunter has told ye no falsehoods.”

“He has.”

“When?”

“Ye called him Connor. A man who hides his true name be not trustworthy.”

“Gavin told that lie, but he meant only to protect his brother.”

“Did ye ken the furry beast who came for me be Hunter? Agin he hid himself.”

Evonne shrugged.

“Not once did he tell me his name. Even Dillon never said he be a Mackintosh.”

“Mayhap they had reasons.”

“Aye, Hunter wished to play me the fool. Did ye ken he and I have been wed?” Kasey’s heart raced after Evonne nodded. “Did ye not think this news worth sharing?”

“I thought ye understood when I put the kertch on yer head, milady.”

“Dinna call me milady.”

“Why not? Connor be the Mackintosh laird.”

Kasey felt the blood drain from her face. “I thought he be naught but a warrior. Why would the man hide his station?”

She walked to the window and looked up at the stars. All these years, she had wanted—nay, needed—to believe Hunter was an honorable man. Now she knew the opposite true. “Why would Hunter-Connor-Laird Mackintosh—whoever—wish to marry me?”

Laughter came from the doorway.

“Good eventide, Ciara.”

Evonne’s pleasant greeting grated on Kasey’s nerves more than Ciara’s cheer.

“Mayhap ye can help me break through the lady’s thick skull. She canna understand why Laird Mackintosh wished to marry her.”

Kasey glared at Evonne for including Ciara in their discussion. The last time they crossed paths, the MacPherson lass spat on her.

“He loves her. What other reason does she need?”

Kasey snorted. “Love? The man knew me not at Inverness and kens even less of the woman I be today. How can ye say thus?”

“His family calls him Hunter because he spent every unclaimed moment watching ye at Inverness. Yer time together after the attack and your separation since, forced him to accept how much ye mean to him.”

Kasey warmed at Ciara’s words. If the truth be told, she too had felt the stirrings of love before they parted. “Then why did he not make his feelings known?”

“Did ye?” Evonne asked.

Kasey sank onto a chair. Pride had forbidden her to speak of her feelings. Despite her visions, she had never believed a Cameron and a Mackintosh could share one life. Liar. The clans’ feud had been a simple excuse. In truth, she did not believe herself worthy of a man as handsome, as strong, as wonderful as Hunter.

“I believe Connor knows ye better than ye know yerself, especially after all ye have endured.” Ciara walked over and took Kasey’s hand. “Ye once befriended me in my time of need. Though I dinna appreciate yer counsel then, I hope ye will heed mine now. Every woman dreams of a love as true, as abiding as that which Connor offers ye. That man has waged battles for ye. Dinna be a fool and push him away.”

Tears burned Kasey’s eyes. If her laird, who had known her all her life, could not care for her, then Hunter could not possibly love her. His honor demanded he right the wrong her reputation suffered. His gratitude required he repay her for plying her skills. He must have confused obligation with love.

“Laird Cameron told ye one truth. Ye took aught of great value from Inverness.”

“I stole naught, Evonne.”

“Nay, milady. Ye took Connor Mackintosh’s heart.”

Before Kasey could respond, the king and Broderick appeared at her door. All three ladies curtsied. Evonne and Ciara took their leave. Kasey offered the king her seat. He declined and pulled over another chair. Broderick stood across from her.

Discomfited by the pensive looks on her guests’ faces, she turned to Broderick. “How be ye?”

“I have but a wee bruise.” Broderick pulled her dagger from his sleeve and handed it to her. “Yer timely intervention denied Laird Cameron my death.”

“I be happy yer training proved worthwhile.”

“That ye also saved yer own life makes my efforts invaluable,” Broderick said.

Kasey shook her head. “My life be naught compared to yers.”

After a long, uncomfortable pause, Broderick wiped his hands on his trews. “How long did ye stand in doorway afore ye threw the dirk?”

“I arrived afore the servants cleared the tables.”

“Then ye ken why ye spent every summer with me at Inverness.”

Kasey shrugged. She knew he shared a bond with her mother and thought she had asked him to teach Kasey what Laird Cameron forbade.

“I wished to spend time with the daughter I failed to claim.”

She started to express sympathy for Broderick’s loss, but stopped to ponder his words. To her knowledge, he spent his free time with only her. Could it be? She raised her gaze, a silent plea for affirmation. At Broderick’s nod, her eyes moistened.

“Please dinna hate me.” He knelt and lifted a trembling hand to her cheek. “I beg ye, let me explain.”

“Do ye realize what this means?”

Broderick nodded. “I have brought ye shame.”

“Nay, sir. I care not aboot the gossip that may follow.” She kissed his cheek. “No Cameron blood flows through me.”

Broderick pulled her head to his shoulder and wept. When his tears slowed, she wiped the drops from his face. She basked in the love that shone from his eyes. “I remember well yer stories of the woman ye loved but could not have. Ye spoke of my mother, dinna ye?”

“I loved Brietta as I have loved no other. She cared not that I had no title, but I thought she deserved a husband of means.” He took hold of Kasey’s hand. “Passion flared the night I ended my suit. I should have restrained my desire, but my heart overruled all else.

“When I learned our coupling had produced a child, I felt torn. As the king’s nephew and commander of his guard, I could provide naught yer mother deserved. But to give her freely to another man...”

The king cleared his throat. “I fear my father pressed Broderick into his decision. He could have, nay, should have, offered him a title. Lord knows, enough restless lairds had threatened his reign. ’Twould have been so simple to strip one of the infidels and bestow the title upon Broderick.”

Broderick shook his head. “Such an action would have incited more unrest. At the time, even Laird Cameron’s loyalty swayed with the wind. Because the neighboring clans respected him, yer father could not risk his allegiance to the crown. When the Cameron petitioned the king to override Caedmon Mackintosh’s denial of Lady Glenda Mackintosh’s betrothal, the king believed providence had intervened.”

He turned to Kasey. “My uncle could not afford the scandal a child born out of wedlock would bring. Laird Cameron desired a wife. Lady Brietta needed a husband. Her beauty and large dowry made her an ideal replacement for Lady Mackintosh.”

Part of her admired Broderick’s sacrifice. Yet, she wished his loyalty had been weaker. She would have rather grown up in a loving home than with the few advantages of station Laird Cameron provided. “Did the Cameron ken my mother already carried me?”

Broderick shrugged. “I canna say. When I told yer mother the king had betrothed her to Laird Cameron, I begged her not to reveal the truth.”

Kasey’s lip quivered. “Ye let her marry him though ye knew of his cruelty?”

“Nay, lass. He hid his true colors.” Broderick gripped Kasey’s hand. “After I learned of his thirst for strong spirits and the anger wrought by drink, I begged yer mother to come to me, but she refused. She accepted Douglas’s abuse as her penance, but she wanted ye to see life could be pleasant.”

“Be that why she sent me to Inverness?”

“Aye. I found the greatest joy watching ye grow and aiding ye to learn all a woman of yer station needed.” He cupped her face. “If I could go back in time and choose a different path, I would. Since I canna, I must believe all ye have endured has made ye the beautiful, strong woman ye have become.”

She nodded, though she did not agree with his opinion. “Does Hunter ken ye be my father?”

“Laird Mackintosh has just learned the truth.”

Broderick’s disclosure saddened Kasey. If the man had married her for reasons other than duty or gratitude, would he not wish to attend this discussion? His absence shouted his lack of care. Her throat tightened as she turned to the king. “I wish to petition for dissolution of my marriage. Laird Mackintosh deserves better than a bastard wife.”

The king looked to the rushes. “I will take yer petition under consideration,” he sighed, “after ye speak to Connor.”

Kasey nodded, then yawned. “I beg yer pardon.”

Broderick rose. “Ye need to rest, milady.”

Before he departed, Kasey kissed his cheek. “I be happy to ken ye be my father.”

“May I give ye a piece of advice, milady?” At her nod he said, “Pride be a vicious beast who maims all in his path. Repeat not the sins of yer father.”

****

Connor lay on the dew-covered grass and inhaled its fresh cut scent. In the twilight sky, countless stars danced to the crickets’ music.

His life might be as tranquil, if he went to his wife with his heart in his hand. They could not begin their future until they lay the past behind them. Feckless soul he be, for a yellow streak painted his spine when it came to speaking to his lovely bride.

He clenched his fists, still sore from thrashing Symon. He would have given all he owned to beat Douglas Cameron instead, but he would never have the chance. Pummeling a man who could not move his limbs held no honor. He could imagine no fate worse than sitting idly by, awaiting death. At least the bastard could never again harm another.

Bastard. He wondered how Kasey would accept her birthright. She had always been fond of Broderick. Connor prayed she would take comfort in the attention the emissary had paid her throughout the years.

In truth, he gave thanks their children would carry no Cameron blood. That they would bear ties to the crown did not impress him. The Mackintosh clan would continue to earn respect through loyalty. He expected gossipmongers to claim he had known all along about Kasey’s ties to the king. Too often people overlooked her beauty.

Connor had never seen eyes as blue. Her direct and honest gaze peered into one’s soul, but never did she judge. Her compassion reached out to all. She could comfort others with her voice, her touch, her presence. Her strength and courage inspired him. He thanked providence for setting her in his path. He had not known how incomplete his life had been until he met and then lost her. Nothing would ever separate them again.

“Where in blazes have ye been?”

From Evonne’s tone, he guessed something bothered her. He beseeched his maker for strength. Two vexed women might be more than any man could handle. He sighed as he rose. “Take a moment to calm yerself, Evonne. Then begin anew with the proper respect.”

She fisted her hands on her hips. “I demand to know if ye will allow her do it?”

Connor raised a brow.

“Well?”

“I shall, for now, ignore the manner in which ye posed yer question. After living under the Cameron’s heel, ye may require some instruction as to the proper way to address yer laird. I shall inform Gavin to see to this immediately.” Connor turned away and grinned. This one would keep his brother on his toes. His smile faded when Evonne grabbed his arm.

“Ye failed to answer my question, Laird Mackintosh.”

Connor turned around and scowled at her hand, which trembled on his arm. She would never have treated the Cameron this way. He softened his countenance. “Mayhap I dinna understand yer question. Shall I allow who to do what?”