My Rebel Highlander Page 19

  "You'll have a bruise." He checked her other limbs and didn't find any broken. "Does your head hurt?"

  "Aye."

  "Allow me to wash the blood from her hair, m'laird," Mistress Hillman said.

  "Very well. Just be careful."

  "I will. Don't you fash yourself." She used a basin filled with cold water and a clean cloth.

  "Go bring some boiling water and some willow bark, Cait," she told one of the maids, who then hurried out the door.

  He moved to the other side of the bed where he could better talk to Calla while Mistress Hillman washed the blood from her hair. "Do you truly think Claybourne has your son?"

  "I don't know. I don't see how he could've stolen Jamie from his aunt and uncle. Glenhaven is an earl with heavy guard."

  "Claybourne may have been lying to get you to agree to go with him."

  She pressed her eyes closed. "That's true, but I couldn't risk it," she whispered.

  "What else did he say?"

  "When I asked where my son was, he said, 'In a safe place, but only as long as you come with me peacefully and pay your debt to me without complaint.'"

  What a whoreson. Rebbie's whole body tensed with outrage. He would make the bastard regret every ounce of torment he'd ever given Calla. "How did you get outside these walls?"

  "MacFadden came here and told me… that you wished for me to meet you in the orchard."

  "Damn the man." Rebbie wanted to strangle him. "I need to go find out what he knows. He's being held in the dungeon."

  "Very well. I ken I shouldn't have believed him, but I thought…."

  Rebbie nodded. She'd wanted to see him, meet with him in the garden, as they'd done before. For a kiss. Looking into the vulnerability of her pale gray eyes, he felt lost for a moment… but also as if he'd come home. "Watch over her, Mistress Hillman, and let me know immediately if she passes out or feels more pain."

  "I will indeed, m'laird."

  "I'll return in a few minutes. And have no worries; we'll find your son," he told Calla.

  Sudden tears glistened in her eyes and she blinked. "I thank you."

  He wanted to kiss her forehead and her lips, too, but couldn't with Mistress Hillman there.

  Once he'd closed the door behind him, Rebbie rushed down the stairs and met Lachlan and Alasdair in the great hall. Before he could say anything, MacDade hurried in from outside. "MacFadden has escaped!" he announced.

  "What?" Rebbie demanded. "How did that happen?"

  "He snatched one of the guards' daggers and stabbed him with it. MacFadden had vanished by the time we found Graham dead."

  "That bastard." Rebbie ground his teeth. "Send out a search party and find him. I want him brought back here alive. I need to question him."

  "Aye, m'laird." MacDade hastened out the door.

  Rage tearing through his veins, Rebbie felt like throwing something. "Unless they find him, we can only guess at Claybourne's plans. We need to head out at first light."

  "Will Lady Stanbury be well enough to travel by then?" Alasdair asked, a frown contorting his dark brows.

  "I know not. She has a head injury, and her shoulder gives her pain. We won't be able to travel as fast." On second thought, he probably couldn't allow Calla to leave her bed for a few days.

  "Would Claybourne take the lad to his estate?" Lachlan asked.

  "If he could get his hands on him, aye, to use as leverage to make her do whatever he wants. But I'm hoping he was lying simply to get her to go peacefully with him. One thing you should know—Calla thinks he may have murdered her husband. He often gambled with Claybourne. And Stanbury was found stabbed in Edinburgh."

  "'Slud! What was the motive?" Alasdair asked.

  "We don't have an inkling… other than his lust for Calla. But the two knew each other long before Stanbury married Calla. Claybourne ruined Stanbury, bled him dry. The estate cannot be sold and is held in trust for the lad."

  Lachlan nodded. "Where does Claybourne live?"

  "Calla said he lives south of Perth, at a place called Bonnyridge."

  "I was thinking Alasdair and I could take half the men and follow Claybourne. We'll try to catch up to him before we reach Draughon Village. If we can't, we'll find out where he is and keep an eye on him. We'll learn whether or not he has Calla's son. If we can safely grab the lad, we will, and take him to Draughon. But we won't put his life in danger. We have children of our own, so we know how serious this is."

  Alasdair nodded his agreement, his look deadly.

  "We'll leave just before dawn," Lachlan went on. "By then, Claybourne's horses will be exhausted and we should be able to overtake them easily."

  "I thank you both for your help. I'll repay you someday."

  "No repayment necessary, my friend." Lachlan clasped a hand on his shoulder. "You've helped me more times than I can count."

  After everyone retired to their chambers for a few hours' sleep, Rebbie returned to Calla's room. He knocked lightly at her door.

  One of the maids opened it.

  "How is she feeling?" he asked Mistress Hillman, while his gaze drifted to Calla, lying on her side under the covers. They'd obviously helped her prepare for bed.

  "She has a headache, so I'm steeping some willow bark tea for her."

  He nodded and strode to the fireplace. Calla met his gaze and gave him a wee smile.

  His heart gave a happy leap and he returned her smile. "Lachlan and Alasdair will ride south just before dawn in pursuit of Claybourne. They're going to determine whether the knave has your son or not. We'll meet them at Draughon as soon as we can. I don't want to leave here until you're up to traveling."

  "Please thank them for me. I wish to thank you as well for coming to my rescue."

  "I'm happy to help." He turned to Mistress Hillman. "You two, go find your beds. I'll sit with the lady tonight."

  "Och, m'laird. I don't mind sitting up with her at all."

  "If I need you, I'll come find you." He needed to hold Calla so badly his chest ached. He could've lost her so easily tonight. And if he had… just the thought sent a stabbing pain to his gut. He didn't know what the hell he was feeling.

  "Very well. If you insist," Mistress Hillman said hesitantly. "Is that all right with you, then, m'lady?" she asked Calla.

  "Aye, and I thank you for your help, both of you."

  "We'll see you in the morn. Oh, and be sure to drink the tea."

  When the two women exited, Rebbie barred the door.

  "What are you about?" Calla murmured from the bed.

  He moved toward her. "I want to hold you," he said, keeping his voice low.

  "All night?" she whispered.

  "Aye. What's left of it." He relished her smile and didn't think she'd object. "Are you in agreement?"

  "I am."

  "Well, then, you must drink this first." He helped her sit up and held her while she sipped the warm tea from the wooden cup. He kissed her cheek and smelled the scent of rose soap. The maids must have helped her bathe, too.

  Blushing, she smiled. "You are too kind."

  "'Tis doubtful."

  She sent him an amused glance.

  After she finished the tea, he helped her lie down again on her side so as to not put pressure on her head injury. He blew out all the candles, leaving only the fireplace to light the room to a dim glow.

  Having left most of his weapons downstairs in the armory, he removed his sgian dubh and laid it on the table by the bed. After discarding his doublet and boots, but leaving on his shirt and belted plaid, he climbed onto the bed behind her and placed his arms around her.

  "Does your head pain you greatly?"

  "Some."

  "Can you rest with me here?"

  "Aye."

  At least Calla would try. She certainly enjoyed his comforting arms around her. So warm and strong. She felt safe and protected. But what about their son?

  Nay! She couldn't have just thought their son, could she? She squeezed her eyes shut. Rebbie could nev
er find out.

  Where was Jamie? She prayed he was still with his aunt and uncle. How on earth could Claybourne have possibly gotten into Glenhaven Castle and kidnapped him? Or had his aunt and uncle taken him on an outing and that's when the knave had snatched him? Regardless, Glenhaven always had at least a dozen guards about.

  "You're not relaxing," Rebbie murmured in her ear.

  "I can't help it. I'm worried about Jamie."

  "But you must rest and recover so that we can travel south and find him."

  "You're right." She bit her lip and pressed her eyes closed. Please, God, protect wee Jamie. He's an innocent child and the most important person in my life. I love him so much. A tear slid down her face.

  Rebbie raised himself up a bit and kissed her cheek near her ear. "Sleep," he breathed.

  She lifted his hand and kissed the back. He was the sweetest thing. What was she going to do about him? Unable to figure out the answer, she felt her thoughts jumble. Sleep overcame her as the pain eased away.

  What seemed only moments later, a knock sounded at the door. She opened her eyes a crack, finding the room dark.

  "Saints," Rebbie hissed and rolled from the bed. He unbarred the door and opened it.

  "We're heading out." 'Twas Lachlan's voice.

  "Wait until I get my boots and I'll see you off."

  Once he'd slid on his boots, Rebbie closed the door on his way out. Silence pervaded the room. Calla wished she could arise and follow to thank the men for all they'd done for her. So much time and effort they'd put into riding from Draughon to Tummel, and now they had to head back. They had to be exhausted. She could never thank them enough.

  When she moved her head the slightest bit, soreness and pain latched onto her skull. Oh, dear Lord! She forced herself to lay still, willing the pain away.

  Before she knew it, Rebbie returned and snuggled up to her again, so comforting. "Are you awake?"

  "Aye."

  "How do you feel?" he murmured.

  "My head hurts."

  He gently smoothed the hair back from her face. "Want me to have one of the maids bring more tea?"

  "Nay, I thank you. I'll be fine."

  With him holding her, she drifted back to sleep.

  Calla awoke again when someone rapped their knuckles on the door.

  "Now what," Rebbie grumbled. He arose and opened the door. "Aye?"

  "The guards sent me to tell you, they found MacFadden." Mistress Hillman's voice sounded distressed. "They wish you to come to the courtyard."

  Chapter Fourteen

  "What the blazing hell happened to him?" Rebbie asked, staring down at the bloody corpse of MacFadden, mostly covered in a plaid. But from what he could see, his throat and one of his arms looked mangled.

  "'Twas the wolves, m'laird," one of the guards said, his face a grimace of disgust. "We came upon them in the wood. Had to scare the depraved beasts off the poor bastard."

  "Damnation." Rebbie ground his teeth. What a horrible fate for the man. Aye, he was a traitor and caused Calla to be captured and hurt, but Rebbie had never wished this sort of gruesome death on him. And of course, now he couldn't question MacFadden about Claybourne's plans.

  "We also found this lying a few feet from the body." The guard handed him a heavy sack of coins.

  Rebbie frowned. 'Twas a lot of coin for a man such as MacFadden to be carrying about. He opened it and found large gold and silver coins, along with a small piece of folded parchment. He took it out and read it, rage crawling through his veins. A note in which Claybourne promised to pay MacFadden ten-thousand pounds if he rescued Lady Stanbury, his betrothed.

  Bastards. A lot of good this scheming had done either of them.

  "Does MacFadden have family hereabouts?" Rebbie asked.

  "Aye, a cousin in the village. We sent a man to tell her."

  Rebbie nodded. He would use this pouch of coins to pay for any burial expenses required, then he would divide the rest between the family of the guard MacFadden had killed, the guards who had brought MacFadden in, and his cousin.

  The guards wrapped the plaid tightly about MacFadden's body and carried him through the gates, toward the village.

  "Hell," Rebbie muttered, wishing he could dispel the sense of grisly dread hanging over the place along with the gray morning mist.

  ***

  Mistress Hillman bustled into Calla's bedchamber carrying a tray of food. "A good morn to you, m'lady," she said in a somber tone.

  "Good morn. Is everything all right?" She'd wondered at the housekeeper's distressed tone earlier just before Rebbie had rushed out.

  "Well, I suppose I can tell you since he was the cause of you being kidnapped and injured. MacFadden is dead."

  "In truth? Who killed him?"

  The housekeeper frowned, looking worried. "I'd best let the laird tell you what happened."

  "Very well." Calla was unsure how she felt about MacFadden being dead. He was an odd man, to be sure, and he'd tricked her into going outside so Claybourne's men could snatch her. But she hadn't imagined someone would kill him for it.

  "And how are you feeling this morn?"

  "Better." Calla pushed herself up and sat back against the pillows. 'Twas true, her head didn't pain her as much.

  Mistress Hillman placed the tray containing a wooden bowl of porridge, bread, and a cup of ale before her. "Do you think you can manage it?"

  "Aye. I thank you."

  "Oh, no thanks necessary, my dear." The housekeeper's kind and affectionate tone touched Calla. "We're glad to have a lady in the castle again and we're hoping the laird makes you the official lady of the castle very soon."

  Calla's face heated. Instead of commenting, she took a bite of the porridge. 'Twas indeed bland, but she supposed 'twas for the best considering her stomach was not in the best condition after her head injury and the dizziness.

  Mistress Hillman straightened the items on the bedside table. "'Tis clear to me he cares for you a great deal."

  Calla shrugged, though the very thought that Rebbie might care for her near made her giddy.

  "And you care for him, do you not?"

  She could not lie. "Aye. He is a good man."

  "That he is. And he's in need of a lady wife. You two make a fine looking pair."

  Unsure how to respond to that, she kept silent and ate faster.

  "I think I'll speak to his father about it."

  Calla almost choked before she got the bite of bread down. "Oh. Nay, I wish you wouldn't. 'Twould be very awkward." She well knew that Laird Kilverntay would never wish his son to marry her. His dark look of disapproval said it all. He wanted Rebbie to marry an innocent young virgin with a large dowry. Calla hadn't been one of those in many years, nor did she wish to be. She loved being a mother. And of course she had no property, dowry or otherwise.

  "Well… I suppose I'll just have to have faith, and pray that Laird Rebbinglen comes to his senses and marries you. Why, you should've seen him after you disappeared last night. He was beside himself, woke the whole castle, he did, demanding that you be found." Mistress Hillman shook her head, a mist of tears in her eyes. "And when he returned, carrying you in his arms as if you were the most precious treasure on earth…." She blinked and dabbed at her nose with a handkerchief. "You should've seen the look on his face, m'lady."

  Calla was near speechless. She dropped her gaze and cleared her throat, uncertain how she felt about all of this. Her heart danced with delight at the mere thought that Rebbie might care for her more than he did any other woman, but at the same time, she knew naught could come of it. Too many circumstances, and people, stood against them.

  ***

  While Calla rested and recovered, Rebbie attended Graham's—the guard MacFadden had killed—funeral in the wee village kirk, not too far from the castle. Rebbie left before MacFadden's funeral, which was to follow it.

  MacFadden was to be buried in the kirk yard with a view of Tummel Castle in the distance. Rebbie could well imagine the troubled
man's spirit haunting the place and gazing out toward the beloved castle, but never able to possess what he coveted most.

  Rebbie truly did feel sorry for the man. At one point, he'd almost liked him, but then he'd proven himself a malicious traitor by leading Calla out to Claybourne. He wished things could've turned out differently. Wished, most of all, that Calla hadn't been hurt.

  Walking alone back to Tummel through the cool, damp air, he prayed Calla would heal and return to normal very soon. He'd come so close to losing her, he couldn't even comprehend….

  One thing was certain—she was precious to him. He knew not when he'd become so attached to her, but sleeping with her last night, he'd felt like he was home for the first time in many years. He'd needed naught more than to hold her, inhale her feminine scent, and listen to her breathing.

  After they'd broken their fast that morn, he'd gone back into Calla's room and told her how MacFadden had died. He knew 'twould frighten her because Calla and Rebbie had almost been attacked by wolves as well. She was terrified of the creatures, and rightly so. 'Twas not safe for anyone to go wandering about alone.

  When Rebbie passed through the portcullis and approached the castle, someone yelled out, "What is this, Robert?"

  Rebbie found his father standing at the corner of the castle where the new tower was being constructed. He shifted direction and headed toward him.

  "'Tis a new tower MacFadden started."

  His father gave him a perplexed look.

  "I ken what you're thinking. He was a bit mad."

  "Hmph. Well, at least you don't have to finish it."

  Rebbie studied the fine stonework of the half tower, obviously created by a skilled mason. "I want to."

  "Why?"

  "MacFadden convinced me of its value. 'Twill improve the castle. I plan to spend time here in the future. The hunting in autumn will be good. I'll need more bedchambers for all my guests."

  He shrugged. "'Tis up to you. Your grandfather—your mother's father—owned the castle and had a great fondness for it. I'm sure such a thing would've pleased him."

  Rebbie nodded, remembering Papa Stewart and his long white beard.

  "Take a walk with me, son. I think we should talk."

  Guessing what his father wanted to talk about, Rebbie ground his teeth. "Very well."