Fated Hearts 02 - Highland Echoes (22 page)

“What letter? Neither of ye ever mentioned a letter.”

“It was a letter to me from Tristan. His wife wrote it for him years ago. He feared sending it to me because of her father. The seal was unbroken when Grace arrived. Michael begged the laird to look at it. Yer mother even tried, but the laird wouldn’t.”

“Has Michael seen it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can I see it?”

Innes’ eyes filled with tears. “She took it with her. It was in a little wooden box with the brooch. She also had a brooch and pendant that belonged to Tristan’s wife.”

“What was in the letter?”

“Tristan explained about his wife’s father. It was the reason they fled to Lewis in the first place and why he couldn’t contact me. He didn’t hate me as I always imagined he did. He begged my forgiveness.”

The existence of the letter was a complete surprise. He wondered why Grace had never mentioned it. Perhaps there was more information in the letter—something that could help her now. “Innes, did Father Francis read it to ye? Maybe ye are forgetting some important detail that he will remember. Or if Michael read it, maybe he knows something.”

“Ye could ask Michael but yer da threw him in the dungeon for interfering and Father didn’t read it to me. The lass herself did.”

“Grace can read?” This too was a surprise.

“Aye, she can. She said her mama taught her.”

“But Innes, ye said the man named Roddy had a marriage certificate that
bore Nina’s mark
. Other than Laird Morrison’s letter was this the only proof they offered?”

“Aye, well that and their testimony. She didn’t even recognize her husband. They said she had lost her mind when she lost her own child. When the laird gave them leave to take her, she certainly looked like a mad woman, screaming and kicking. Of course, Michael fought too. It took four guardsmen to subdue him. One of the Morrisons knocked Grace out.”

One of them struck her? It was all Bram could do to rein in his temper. “Innes, I don’t believe a word of their story. Kristen knows who her mother is and ye say Grace can read. Surely if she were truly this man’s wife, Nina, she would have
signed
the certificate—not simply marked it.”

Innes’ eyes grew wide. “I didn’t think of that. Aye, and Kristen does know her mama. She has been distraught since they left yesterday morning, crying for her mama.”

“Two days? They’ve had her for nearly two day? Did Michael go after her?”

“Nay, I told ye, he’s in the dungeon.”

His heart sank. “Innes, I must go. I will find out what my father knows and then find her.”

Innes stood with tears streaming down her cheeks again. “I let them take her. I doubted her. She begged me to believe her and I didn’t.”

“Innes, ye couldn’t have stopped this, not with my father condoning it. Ye might be in the dungeon alongside Michael if ye’d tried. But I will bring her back. I swear. Even if it is to let Michael have her.”

He wasted no time getting to the keep, running the whole way. When he reached the great hall, Ian and his father looked at him from where they sat at the refectory table. Clearly their father had told the story to Ian whose eyes held only pity. His father, on the other hand, looked ready to do battle.

Fine. Bram would give him a battle. “Where did they take her?”

“Back to Lewis, where she belonged,” Eanraig answered.

“Through which port?” Bram ground out.

“They were heading for Durness, and good riddance.”

Bram exploded. “Ye have no idea what ye’ve done, Father.”

“Mind yer tone with me, Son.”

Bram continued. “Ye had to meddle. Ye would have done anything to get rid of her. But it was over between us. Why couldn’t ye just leave it be?”

“I did it for the good of the clan. It wasn’t over as long as ye thought ye loved her, Bram. But it is a good thing I found out the truth. She is a mad woman. She’s married and she stole the child. Even her story about how Tristan and his family died was false. They all died of an illness that swept the village. She stole the real Grace’s belongings. I know ye don’t want to believe it but she lied to us.”

Bram trembled with rage. “Nay, Father, she didn’t. Ye were willing to believe Laird Morrison’s letter and his men, without bothering to find out the truth of it, even with a trusted guardsman telling ye they were wrong. Besides, Kristen remembers when her father died. She will tell ye, her da and grandda died in a storm.”

“Michael is as blind as ye are and Kristen is a bairn.”

“That doesn’t matter. She remembers and she knows who her mother is.”

“Bah.” His father waved his hand, as if he refused to credit a child. “Besides, I didn’t rely only on Laird Morrison’s letter. Nina’s husband had their marriage certificate bearing her mark.”

“Good point, Da. But why would a woman acknowledge a document with a mark if she can read and write?”

“Clearly, Nina
can’t
read and write.”

“Aye, I’m sure Nina, whomever she is, can’t. But the woman who lived among us
can
read. Surely, if she were truly married, her husband would know that.”

For the first time, Bram saw a glimmer of doubt in his father’s eyes. “She can read? How is that possible? Tristan couldn’t read.”

“Her mother could, but the question of who taught her doesn’t matter. Ye let six men drag Innes’ granddaughter away based on a letter from a clan leader with whom ye have no formal ties and a marriage certificate which might have belonged to anyone. And ye threw the one person who tried to help her in the dungeon. Did ye ever consider Laird Morrison might have had another motive?”

“Bram, be reasonable. What cause would Laird Morrison to have to lie about who she is?”

“I don’t know, but that brings me to another issue. Yer messenger arrived before Ian and I left. Ian asked ye about what news he brought and ye said it was nothing important. This seems worthy of at least a mention.”

“I didn’t know it then,” said his father.

“What do ye mean, ye didn’t know it?”

“Laird Morrison told the messenger she was lying to us but didn’t offer details. He said he would send men for her.”

“Doesn’t that seem odd to ye? Wouldn’t it have been reasonable for him to say, Grace Breive died or to tell ye that the woman in our midst had lost her mind and stolen a child so ye could prevent her from harming someone else before they arrived? Did it ever occur to ye that he gave ye no details because he needed time to make a plausible story?”

More doubt flitted across his father’s features even as he insisted, “I had no reason to doubt Laird Morrison.”

“But ye doubted a man to whom ye trust yer life? I think the truth is ye would rather let them haul away an innocent lass to ensure she didn’t interfere with yer plans for me. But ye had already taken care of that, hadn’t ye? Ye threatened her and forced her to tell me she loved another.”

“It was for the good of the clan Bram. Who told ye anyway?”

“Ye just did.”

His father had the good grace to look contrite. “Son, I—”

“Nay, I’ve heard enough. I am going to find Grace and bring her home. Kristen and Innes need her. That is, if there is anything left of her.” Bram stormed out of the hall, barely registering the horrified looks on the servants’ faces.

Ian caught up to him when he reached the stable. “Bram, wait.”

Bram had just realized Ian had said nothing in the great hall and spun to face him. “Did ye know any of this?” Bram didn’t think he could bear it if Ian had kept this from him.

“Nay, Bram. Da had just finished telling me about it when ye arrived.”

“Don’t try to talk me out of going after her.”

“I won’t. In fact, I’ll go with ye. But Bram, we can’t go tearing off after them alone and it’s getting dark. We can leave with fresh horses at dawn.”

“It is at least an hour until sunset, and another hour of gloaming after that. We can ride hard for two hours, then rest the horses until first light and we’ll be that much closer. If they pushed hard, they could reach Durness by midday tomorrow. I only pray the tides are in our favor. We must reach them before they board a ship.”

“Aye, we do,” Ian said, “but it isn’t likely to take them much less than three days. They had no reason to push and I’m sure Grace didn’t make it easy.”

Bram glowered at him. “Fine, we’ll leave tonight. Just give me enough time to gather some men and supplies.”

Bram knew Ian was being prudent, but waiting even a moment seemed too long. “Thank ye, Ian. And for the love of God, get Michael out of the dungeon.”

“It was Michael? He threw Michael MacBain in the dungeon?

“Aye. No one else helped her.” Bram’s throat tightened with emotion. “Six men, Ian.”

His brother gripped his shoulder. “We’ll find her.”

Grace gave the Morrisons no more trouble. Clearly, her injured feet were as effective as a locked cell at preventing her escape. Roddy hadn’t even bothered to bind her hands again. He allowed her to ride the next day. Frankly, he had no other choice if he wanted to reach Durness in less than a sennight. Although Roddy had her ride sitting in front of him initially, he soon complained that his mount was tiring under the extra weight.

Grace suspected an entirely different problem. She had been a married woman and could certainly recognize a man’s erect member when it pressed against her. If she wasn’t much mistaken Roddy had ridden for several hours in an uncomfortable state of arousal before foisting her off on Kenneth, the man who was apparently his second in command.

Kenneth was as cruel as Roddy, taunting her throughout the afternoon about what awaited her at Fearchar’s hands. Grace refused to react, so Kenneth kept goading her with increasingly dire predictions. With each foul suggestion, much to her revulsion, Grace realized Kenneth too became aroused.

Eventually, Conan growled, and cursed before riding up beside them. “Ye’re disgusting, Kenneth, and if ye don’t shut yer foul mouth, I’ll shut it for ye.” Before Kenneth could react, Conan had pulled Grace onto his own lap.

“Thank ye,” she whispered.

“Frankly, I don’t care what Fearchar does with his whores, but I was tired of hearing Kenneth yammer on about it.”

She rode with Conan for much of the rest of that day. She had hoped perhaps she could befriend one of them and maybe get help in escaping but after Conan’s pronouncement she didn’t even try with him. Conan handed her off to Gordon for a few hours in the late afternoon.

At least Gordon was polite but he refused to be drawn into a conversation. This left her alone with her thoughts so she envisioned one escape scenario after another. Then one after another she discarded them. They all hinged on needing to move quickly and her feet were too injured for that. She couldn’t hope to outrun any of them. She fantasized about obtaining six knives and making short work of all six men, but the chances of that happening were slim. Besides, she wasn’t entirely sure she would be able to take a single man’s life, much less six. It would be especially hard for her to hurt Augie. He didn’t seem as cruel as the rest. Perhaps that was where she needed to focus her efforts.

That evening when they made camp, she overheard Roddy say he expected to reach Durness sometime after midday tomorrow. “The captain should be waiting for us. He was to be ready to sail yesterday. With a bit of luck we could reach Lewis late tomorrow night. Just think, Gordon, ye might be swiving yer wife by the wee hours.”

“And Fearchar will be teaching Grace what happens to wenches who defy him,” said Kenneth.

“For the love of the saints, Kenneth, find yerself a woman to spill yer seed in and stop imagining what Fearchar is doing while ye yank yer knob yerself,” said Derek. The argument only escalated from there.

She stopped paying attention.
With a bit of luck we could reach Lewis late tomorrow night
. Although she had clung steadfastly to the hope that she could get away from them before they boarded a boat to Lewis, her hope was swiftly being supplanted by doubt. Her feet were swollen and had barely begun to heal. While Roddy had given her back her boots, she couldn’t get them on, so she still hobbled barefooted. Now they were less than a day’s ride away, and she still hadn’t thought of a viable escape plan.

Just when she felt ready to curl up and give into tears, her sweet Kristen filled her thoughts. Nay, she wouldn’t give up. She would figure out a way to escape them in Durness. She prayed fervently to the Blessed Mother to guide her. Surely one mother would understand the heart of another and maybe she would listen and bend God’s ear, as Grace believed He had stopped listening to her pleas months ago.

*

When she woke the next day it was with new resolve. In the absence of a better plan, she would do her best to befriend Augie in the little time she had left. Perhaps the Blessed Mother had intervened because Roddy declared that she would ride with Augie that day. After they had been on the road a while she began asking him questions and unlike the other men, he responded. He told her about his family. She told him about hers, particularly about Kristen. However, before long Conan growled, rode up beside them, and shut Augie up in the same way he had Kenneth, by dragging Grace onto his own horse.

Grace was angry and frustrated. She could only hope that the brief conversation they had was enough to make Augie more kindly disposed to help her when the time came.

As they drew nearer to the village of Durness, Grace paid close attention to everything around her. She hoped to see something or someone that would help her.

Focused as she was, she failed to notice that Roddy had spoken to her. She only realized it when Conan nudged her and Roddy vented his anger on her. “Ye are a widowed, penniless, peasant, Grace, and are in no position to snub anyone. What will ye do when Fearchar is done with ye? Having a friend who doesn’t mind his leavings could serve ye well.”

She could barely believe her ears and she couldn’t hold her tongue. “Having a friend who wouldn’t hand me over to him in the first place would serve me a good deal better.”

Roddy laughed. “Ye’ll not find that among the likes of us. Fearchar will be laird soon enough and it’s the men who serve him well now that will benefit the most then.”

Grace looked over her shoulder at him. “Ye are quite certain of that?”

“Aye, I am,” he said confidently.

Grace suspected Fearchar’s loyalty would only stretch as far as what served him at the moment and for some reason she felt compelled to point that out. “I’ve always heard that Fearchar is relentless in gaining what he wants.”

Roddy rode up beside her. “Aye, he is. He wanted ye, didn’t he?”

“Aye he did.” She remained quiet for a few moments before asking, “so what if he wants something precious to ye someday? Do any of ye have women that ye care about? What if he turns his eye to yer sister or mayhap yer wife…or even yer daughter? Won’t he be equally as relentless then?”

“Ye’re daft, Grace. He won’t reward those who serve him well that way.”

There was a nervous edge to Roddy’s voice, so she pushed. “Ye said he stops at nothing to get what he wants. So what’s to stop him?”

“Common sense.”

“Ah,” said Grace. “So ye think Fearchar is sensible?”

Conan snorted.

“Aye, I think he is,” Roddy answered.

“I see. Sending six men across the Highlands, for the sole purpose of bringing him a woman he fancies, is sensible.”

Now Roddy was visibly agitated. “Shut up, Grace.”

“If ye ask me, he is more guided by his urges than any bit of sense. So I don’t think knocking one of ye senseless to have his way with another woman he desires seems that farfetched.”

“I said shut up, Grace. If ye say another word, I will bind and gag ye until I hand ye over to Fearchar.”

She said no more. She had made her point.