Highlander Most Wanted (6 page)

And he owed her a debt for the aid she’d given his brother in finding Eveline. Aye, he did, and he left no debt unpaid.

He pushed her door open wider and took a step forward. When she didn’t stir, he cleared his throat, alerting her to his presence.

Her head snapped up, her eyes flashing in alarm. Her stance was immediately defensive, and so automatic that
it seemed she’d had much practice in defending herself. That thought made him frown.

“Why do you take it from them?” he asked bluntly, because there was no subtle way for him to ask what he wanted to know.

Her eyes widened, as though she couldn’t believe that he’d been so forthright.

“Why do you suffer their abuse and allow their words to go unchecked. You don’t strike me as an overly meek lass.”

She lifted one shoulder in a delicate shrug that shrouded her in a look of utter defeat. Exhaustion swam in her eyes and there was such resignation that it made him flinch.

Never had he witnessed such expressive eyes, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. Every emotion was there to see in the aqua-green pools. Her early stoicism was gone, and now he realized how hard she’d had to work at keeping her face expressionless. The façade had crumbled. One had only to look closely to know exactly what she was feeling. She’d never make a warrior. She gave away entirely too much.

“They only speak the truth,” she said in a brittle voice. “Should I rail at them for daring to say what is true?”

Bowen frowned, his stomach revolting at the thought. And yet he still couldn’t quite accept it.

“You were Ian McHugh’s whore?”

She flinched at the baldness of the question, but Bowen had never been one to mince words. Graeme was far superior with honeyed words. Bowen had the disconcerting habit of speaking his mind.

Then she raised her gaze to meet his, and he blinked at the dullness that had replaced the wash of emotion. It was as though someone had doused a lit candle, plunging a room into darkness.

“Aye, I was Ian McHugh’s whore,” she said bitterly.
“ ’Tis common enough knowledge. Ask anyone in the keep. They’ll tell you the way of it.”

He couldn’t help his expression or the distaste that crept into his mouth. He shook his head, unable to comprehend why.

She pushed herself from the mat and paced a few feet away before turning, her arms securely folded over her chest. Again, he noted the protectiveness of her stance. It was as if every movement were for the sole purpose of self-preservation.

“I would speak to you on a personal matter,” she said in a careful tone.

Perplexed by the abrupt change of topic, he merely nodded, curious as to what the lass would say to him.

“I do not wish to remain here any longer,” she said. “I have nowhere to go. No family to aid me. The McHughs are not my kin and they will not care what happens to me. I cannot depend on their generosity to provide for me.”

Bowen started to interrupt her, to say that the McHughs had little say in what happened at this keep, but Genevieve continued in a trembling voice, the only hint of how unsettled she was.

“Please, good sir, pray let me continue before my courage leaves me.”

Bowen nodded his agreement, and Genevieve took in a deep breath. She turned her face away, so that the scarred cheek was hidden from view. He didn’t know if she did it apurpose or if it was purely instinctive to hide that part of herself.

“I should like to seek refuge in an abbey, but I would need transport and … coin … neither of which I possess,” she whispered. “I aided your brother, and though it was not why I did such a thing, I would be ever appreciative if you would see fit to provide for my entry into the abbey.”

His brows drew together as he stared at her in disbelief. It was the very last thing he imagined her requesting.

Her hands fluttered nervously and she rubbed self-consciously over her scarred cheek before pulling her hair forward to hide the deformity.

“I would be willing to stay for as long as you need assistance in assuming leadership over the McHugh clan. I can give you information. I can also give you … ease.”

Her cheek colored and her gaze fell. She wiped her hands down the skirts of her dress over and over as she waited.

“Ease?” he echoed, not at all sure what she’d just offered. He had an inkling, but surely not.

“I would act as your leman,” she blurted. “For as long as you want or need, provided at the end of our … liaison … you would escort me to an abbey so that I may seek entrance.”

He gaped incredulously at her. And then he laughed, because what else was there to do? She spoke of entering an abbey and in the next breath offered to act the whore for him.

Perhaps he hadn’t fully believed the truth of what she was to Ian until now. She bargained with her body like a seasoned whore, and he was disgusted by the idea that she would sell herself to him, bartering as if this were a common exchange of goods and services.

More color stained her cheeks, and her eyes flashed with … hurt? How could she possibly be hurt? Nothing about this woman made any sense to him, and he had the idea that he’d never fully know the whole of her. It would likely infuriate him to ever try to understand the inner workings of her mind.

“I know I am naught to look at,” she said quietly. “I do not blame you for your disgust. ’Tis said I have skill in … bed.”

She choked out the last word as if it were suffocating her. The color had fled from her face, and she looked ill.

Jesu, but this became messier all the time. Now the lass was convinced that his disgust was over the scar on her face.

He sighed, angered by the whole of it. And more than a little appalled that she’d offered herself without care. She hadn’t displayed even a modicum of self-respect.

Aye, it didn’t just make him angry. It made him bloody well furious.

“Do you not have more pride?” he demanded. “Do you offer yourself to every man who crosses your path, or is it because you find yourself without a protector now that your lover is dead. Would any man do?”

She went utterly white. “Protector?”

A hoarse, dry laugh escaped her, and the sound was guttural and ugly in the silence. He thought that she would say more, but she clamped her mouth shut and leveled a stare at him.

Her eyes were cold, unfeeling. The façade was back. No emotion reflected whatsoever. It was like looking across the waters of a loch in winter.

“What say you, Bowen Montgomery? Will you accept my proposition? Do we have an agreement or nay?”

He shook his head, distaste foul in his mouth. “I have no desire for Ian McHugh’s leavings.”

He spun on his heel and stalked from the room, but not before he saw the flash of anguish replace the coldness in her eyes.

Bowen strode through the keep and into the courtyard. The hall was devoid of people and eerily quiet. They’d all been summoned by Teague to hear their fate.

It was a damnable mess. There wasn’t even that much to claim. Patrick had fled and taken all that was in the coffers, leaving his clansmen to fend for themselves.

The cowardly act was incomprehensible, for when a man took the position of laird to his clan he made a vow to provide for and to protect every last person under his leadership.

What was Bowen even to do with the McHugh people and what was left of the keep? He would have to petition Graeme for supplies and coin in order to care for those who remained.

He stepped into the sunlight and surveyed the assembled clansmen. As soon as his presence was detected, all eyes went to him. There were more McHughs than Bowen had originally thought. Not as many had fled with Patrick as assumed, and perhaps they’d known better.

But their wealth was gone. Most of the horses and livestock had been taken. And now Bowen was left with a mess to clean up.

He found Teague, Aiden, and Brodie, who stood by
the steps leading into the keep. He put his hand on Teague’s shoulder so he could address his brother.

“I would send you to Graeme with an accounting of what has occurred. We have need of supplies, coin, food. Graeme will need to know exactly what has happened here and make a decision on the matter. I will voice my recommendation through you, but, ’tis ultimately his choice. The king will also have need to know what has occurred. Rumors will circulate rapidly through the Highlands, and I’d rather Graeme and our king know firsthand what is the truth.”

Teague nodded his agreement, but then he frowned and turned to Aiden and Brodie.

“We discussed that you would return to your father’s lands and take back your soldiers. I will be returning part of our army to my brother so that our clan is not left unprotected.”

Brodie nodded.

Teague glanced back at Bowen, and then again at the Armstrong brothers.

“ ’Tis something I never thought would happen, but I have a boon to ask.”

Brodie’s eyebrows went up, and he and his brother exchanged quick glances of surprise.

“If I am to journey back to Montgomery Keep with the majority of our men, and you are to return to your father’s keep with the whole of your army, Bowen will be left in a vulnerable position here.”

Bowen frowned and started to deny any such thing, but Teague swept his hand up to silence his older brother.

“Before, the plan was simple. Patrick was to have been eliminated and, with him, any possible threat. ’Tis not the case now. We have no idea where Patrick is, whom he may have allied himself with, if anyone, and he could very well be a problem.”

Aiden and Brodie both nodded their agreement.

“ ’Tis true,” Aiden said. “We hadn’t counted on Patrick being gone. We’d intended to deal with the matter in a concise manner and then go on our way, leaving a few men behind to claim the holding and care for the surviving clan members.”

“The thing I ask is for one of you to remain behind with Bowen while I travel back to our lands to consult with Graeme and apprise him of the situation,” Teague said.

“I’ll stay,” Brodie said. “I’ll keep a dozen of our men and send the rest back with Aiden. Combined with the Montgomery warriors who remain behind, ’tis more than enough of a fighting force to defend the keep.”

“You have my thanks,” Bowen said in a sincere voice.

Nay, it wasn’t necessary for one of the Armstrongs to remain behind, but Bowen appreciated that Brodie was willing to do so when their families had been at war for so many years.

“You have my thanks as well,” Teague said. “I do not like leaving my brother when I’m not certain of his protection.”

Brodie nodded. “You took very good care of my sister. You offered her protection and … acceptance. My family owes you a debt of gratitude for that. Many would have scorned her and forever labeled her the enemy’s daughter. ’Tis a small thing you ask, and I am glad to do it.”

Bowen offered his arm to Brodie and Aiden in turn, clasping hands in a warrior’s shake and show of respect. Then he nodded at Teague.

“Let us speak now to the McHugh people so they’ll know their fate.”

The four men turned to face the assembled clansmen, and Bowen took in the tense undercurrent that rippled through the air.

“Patrick McHugh now has a bounty on his head,”
Bowen said loudly, inciting a cascade of shocked gasps and a torrent of whispers.

“Any who ride or ally with Patrick McHugh also have a bounty. He committed a great sin against the Montgomery and the Armstrong clans. He will not go unpunished.”

“What will happen to us, sir?” a young lad blurted from the crowd.

Bowen let out his breath in a long puff. “As of today, this keep and all that is contained within belongs to the Montgomery clan.”

There were murmurs, protests, angry outbursts, and, from some, amusement.

“There’s nothing to claim!” one of the men yelled out. “The laird took everything of value save a few head of sheep and the older workhorses that aren’t able to ride long distances.”

Bowen held up his hands. “Be silent until I am finished.”

The angry buzz quieted.

“Now, as I said, the keep, the lands, the sheep, and the workhorses … They all belong to Graeme Montgomery and I, as his brother, am his steward and will oversee the running of this keep until such time as he decides on the matter.”

He paused a moment and swept his gaze over the crowd.

“You can accept it or don’t accept it. ’Tis solely up to you. You can stay or not stay. ’Tis your decision. But know this. If you decide to stay, under no circumstances will rebellion or disrespect be tolerated. You’ll continue to work this keep and do your duties as before. My brother is journeying to Montgomery Keep for supplies and food so that we can adequately care for ourselves.”

There were instant murmurs of surprise and shock. Many shook their heads in bewildered disbelief. Had
they expected to be turned away or slaughtered on the spot? Perhaps ’tis what would have happened if Ian or Patrick were in this situation. Perhaps it was what the McHugh people had come to expect from the men who led them.

“But who are we, sir?” a woman called out, her expression solemn.

Bowen frowned. “I do not understand your question, mistress.”