A Fire Within (These Highland Hills, Book 3) (30 page)

To be cast out from one's clan, to be shunned by one's family ... Caitlin at last understood at least some of the pain Dar
must have felt when he was outlawed. How had he survived
such a heartbreaking, excruciatingly painful event? She knew
she couldn't. She hadn't his strength or courage.

And so Caitlin did what she had to. She nodded her acquiescence.

"Aye," she whispered with downcast eyes, "I'll obey ye." Then
anger surged through her, and she looked up, her furious gaze
slamming straight into her brother's. "But I'll never forgive ye for
this. Mark my words, Niall Campbell. I'll never, ever forgive ye!"

He should be thankful, Dar supposed, that he had a whole cell
to walk about in, a wee window to peer out of, and a mattress of sorts to lie upon. It could have been far worse. He could be dead
or, worse still, down in that foul hole in the ground.

His mouth quirked wryly. And so it had come to this, then,
that he was forced to count his blessings in such poor terms.
Count his meager blessings, and wait and wonder when even
those might be taken from him.

He had yet to be here a whole day, and already the confines
of his prison cell were beginning to eat at him, nibbling away
at his confidence and peace of mind. The doubts, the frustrations, the questions ... He could well understand why men
frequently went mad in prison, even before their bodies failed
them.

Already, he dearly missed Caitlin. How he yearned to hear her
voice, even if it were raised in anger as she berated him for being
a pigheaded lout. Indeed, he would even welcome Goraidh's
endless prattling about God.

In the past days, Dar had discovered how much he had missed
human companionship, and the company of those who cared
about him, who he could call friend. He wasn't a solitary man
by nature. He had only tried to convince himself he was because
he'd had no other choice.

Dar sighed and shook his head. A fine time to be discovering
he craved human companionship, when he would likely never
have it again. And yet both Caitlin and Goraidh claimed that
God was not only merciful, but loving!

In the guard's chamber outside the cell there came a creaking
of the dungeon's main door as it swung open. Then Dar thought
he heard the soft murmur of a woman's voice. For a wild instant,
hope flared that it might be Caitlin.

Then he realized it wasn't her voice. Likely a servant bringing
the guards the evening meal, he thought. Whatever her purpose,
he didn't care.

A key jammed into the lock of his cell door. The door opened, and three guards, one holding a loaded crossbow, stood there.
Dar rose.

Aye?

"Sit down, MacNaghten," Dougal, the head guard, said. "And, if
ye've got a shred of sense left in ye, don't cause us any trouble."

Dar decided it was the better part of wisdom to comply, and
he did.

With that, the head guard and one other walked across the cell.
Each grabbed Dar by an arm and shoved him back until he was
up against the wall. The shackles and chains, attached by rings
to the wall, were then fastened about Dar's wrists.

"Is this really necessary?" he asked. "It's not like I'm going to
go far. Leastwise, not with a crossbow quarrel pointed straight
at my heart."

"It is if we're to let the Lady Anne near ye," Dougal said. "Her
husband isn't all that inclined to trust that ye wouldn't otherwise
attempt another abduction."

"Och, aye. And with a bit more practice," Dar drawled, "this
time I might just make a success of it."

The head guard backhanded him. "Have a care what ye jest
about, MacNaghten! We don't take kindly to yet sort running
off with our women."

With a black look at the guard, Dar wiped the blood from
his mouth.

"Enough, Dougal!" Anne Campbell hurried into the cell.
"Ye've no call to abuse a prisoner, especially one who's chained
to the wall."

The head guard backed away, rendering the Campbell's auburnhaired wife an apologetic half bow. "Aye, m'lady. Forgive me, but
I just don't find any humor in his flippant manner. He needs a
lesson in respect, he does."

"Well, mayhap he'll eventually learn it while at Kilchurn."
Anne walked over to where Dar sat on the bed and placed her box of healing supplies beside him. "It won't be today, though,
I'm sure."

She turned to the three men. "Ye can leave us now. I'm quite
certain he can't harm me, as firmly chained as ye've made him."

"But, m'lady-"

With a smile, Anne held up a hand. "I'll be fine, Dougal. And,
besides, ye're just a summons away, aren't ye?"

"Aye, m'lady."

The head guard bowed once more, then motioned for the other
two men to leave the cell. He followed in their wake.

"Dougal?"

The guard turned. "Aye, m'lady?"

"Please shut the door behind ye, if ye will."

His mouth opened, and for a moment it looked as if he were
about to protest such a request. Then he clamped it shut, nodded,
and walked out, closing the door behind him.

Anne turned back to Dar. "I'm sorry that he struck ye. Ye
really must have a care, though, with that clever tongue of yers.
Naught's served jesting about another abduction, ye know."

"Aye, I suppose ye're right." Dar angled his head to stare up at
her. "And may I at least ask why ye're here, Lady?"

She chuckled. "It seems that I end up tending to all of Caitlin's
new acquaintances of late. First yer friend the bard, and now ye."

"Ah, my wound. She worries overmuch about it, she does."

"Well, mayhap once I have a look at it, I can allay her concerns." Anne made a move toward him, then hesitated. "With
yer permission, of course."

Dar's reach with the shackles was just sufficient to tug his shirt
free of his plaid. He pulled the linen fabric up and back to reveal
a rather sorry-looking bandage wrapped around his middle.

"It was in a lot better condition-the bandage was-when
Caitlin first put it on." He smiled ruefully. "I'm just not one to
take care of it, or myself, of late."

"Ye saved my husband's life and saw Caitlin safely back to
us," she said as she opened her box and extracted a small pair of
scissors. "I'd say, in the doing, ye didn't have much opportunity
to consider yerself overmuch."

He shrugged. "I did what I had to do. I'll tell ye true, though.
I didn't save yet husband out of any concern for him. I did it for
Caitlin. If I hadn't gone into the river, she would have."

"Niall mentioned he suspected that was yer true motive." As
she talked, Anne clipped the bandage binding his middle free.
"Nonetheless, I thank ye, from the bottom of my heart, for how
well ye did what ye did and for whatever reason."

As the main bandage fell away, Dar looked down at his wound.
For all he had put it through of late, it appeared surprisingly
good. The edges were well-joined; there was no sign of festering
and very little drainage on the bandage.

"I think I might live," he said, looking up at her with a grin.

"Aye, indeed ye just may," she replied with an answering smile.
"Caitlin will be happy to hear that ye're on the mend."

Dar's grin faded. "How is she?"

Anne looked up. "She's faring well. She's verra angry with Niall
right now, though."

A frown puckered Dar's brow. "Why is that?"

She turned to her box, pulled out fresh bandages, a bowl, a
clean rag, and a flask of water. "He forbade her from having further contact with ye. Seems he's a bit concerned over the extent
of yer friendship."

For a long moment, Dar didn't reply. Indeed, how was he supposed to respond to such a statement? Lie and say they weren't
friends, or tell the truth?

Och, aye, he thought. And wouldn't the truth go over well with
Caitlin's brother?

After the look Niall had sent him across the fire the night before
last, Dar was afraid the other man had surmised far more than Dar would've ever wished him to. It was getting to the point he
wasn't hiding his true feelings for Caitlin very well anymore.

"We were together for a time, a verra intense time," Dar said
at last. "But that's over now. Yet husband needn't worry about
me.

"And what of Caitlin?" Anne asked as she began gently to
cleanse his wound. "What do I tell her?"

He needed to tread carefully with this woman. She was a
clever one, and Dar's instincts warned she was after something.
But what?

"I don't understand what ye're wanting from me, Lady. Did
Caitlin truly ask ye to speak to me?"

"Nay." Rag in hand, Anne looked up. "Have ye already forgotten? She's not permitted to have aught to do with ye anymore."

"Then why do ye wish to know what ye should tell her?"

Niall Campbell's wife smiled. Dar had a sudden suspicion he
was about to hear an answer to a question he might very well
regret asking.

"It's quite simple, really," the auburn-haired woman said. "She's
in love with ye, lad. And, as her sister-in-law, I'd verra much like
to know what yet intentions are regarding her."

She spoke as if he were a man asking leave to pay court to Caitlin.
But such a possibility was beyond ridiculous. It was a farce.

Pain seized him, twisting his heart in a cruel grip. And after
the pain came anger. Anger that, atop everything else that had
happened, he must now endure this humiliation as well.

"I know I've done ye and yet clan a grave injustice," Dar ground
out through clenched teeth, "and that we cannot ever be aught
but enemies, but I'd never have thought ye the kind to mock a
man and his honest affection. Be that as it may, I'll set yet mind at
ease so ye can finish what ye came for and leave me in peace."

He met her gentle gaze with a brittle one of his own. "I've no
intentions toward Caitlin. I may be a fool, but I'm not so big a
fool as to imagine there's any chance for us. Besides, as I've told
her time and again, I've naught to offer her or any lass."

Dar laughed sardonically. "Indeed, I learned my lesson the first
time, when I dared to love a woman who could never be mine.
And she died for my arrogance."

Anne stared at him, silent for a long moment. "But ye do love
her, do ye?" she finally asked.

He couldn't believe she would persist in this. Confusion filled
him. Her seemingly compassionate mien belied her callous persistence on such a distressing subject.

"Unworthy as I may be, what I feel for Caitlin is honorable
and true, and not aught to be ridiculed by the likes of ye and
yet kind," Dar said softly, glancing down. "So, leave me, if ye
will. Please."

"Nay. I'll not do that."

He looked up, surprised. There was no anger or malice in
her gaze.

"And what more is there to say? I already told ye I won't speak
further of this."

"Well, for one thing," Anne said as she laid aside the rag and
turned to pull a small jar from her box, "I'm not finished tending to yet wound. There's yet some marigold ointment to apply,
then a new bandaging needed. And, for another, there's indeed
far more yet to say."

He held out no hope Caitlin would ever be his, but this silvereyed woman was most persistent in whatever she intended. Dar
couldn't help but be intrigued. If nothing else, as long as he kept
his emotions in tight check from here on out, she would at least
be entertaining. And it wasn't as if he had anywhere else to go,
or anything else to do, especially chained as he now was to the
wall.

"Then have at it," he said, gesturing to his side. "And say
what ye will. Ye've made certain that ye have a most captive
audience."

Anne grinned then. "Aye, I have, haven't I? I must consider
such a technique to use on Niall, the next time he gets into one
of his mule-headed rants and won't pause long enough to listen
to me.

She bent then to begin applying a thin coating of ointment
to his wound. Her touch was light, almost imperceptible. Dar
found himself wondering how an apparently kind and intelligent
woman could have found it in her heart to love a man such as
Niall Campbell.

"How came a MacGregor lass to wed a Campbell?" he asked.
"From what I've always heard, it's not like the two clans have ever
been the closest of friends."

"Och, and that's a wee understatement," she replied with a
laugh. "Truth was, I was given to Niall in a handfasting, in hopes
of bringing peace between the Campbells and MacGregors. It was
my father's idea. He knew we couldn't long withstand Campbell
might."

"And did ye wish it so, the trial marriage for a year?"

"Nay." Anne shook her head, leaned back, and stoppered the
jar. "Far from it. And, with my reputation as a witch, not to mention being a MacGregor, I wasn't well-received at Kilchurn. Niall
had his own problems as well, what with soon having to fight for
the chieftainship and someone wishing him dead. He wasn't any
happier to have me here than I was to be here."

"Yet ye both seem happy enough now. With yer marriage, I
mean.