Chapter Five
Shane tossed for what felt like the hundredth time that night. He half expected to hear Ronan’s grumbling voice telling him to stop moving about like a fish out of water.
So often his brother had woken him from his nightmares of past battles and close calls. Of the evening they’d arrived back at camp to find Maria staring blankly up at the darkening sky. But tonight, Shane wasn’t haunted by the years spent at war. And there was no one there to save him. Had Ronan been there, he might have told his brother how badly he’d mucked things up with the raven-haired lass. Staying away from her wasn’t helping things as much as he’d hoped.
But being with her wasn’t an option. Not only was he not ready to love again, if he ever could, but he was the new laird, a man she already hated, and he was set to marry by arrangement. After his near mistake on the rock days earlier, he’d thought about her endlessly. Most often he wondered why he was so drawn to her when she was so different from his Maria. He didn’t know what to think it meant. And what did it matter? For somewhere there was a woman waiting to wed the new laird of the MacPherson clan.
He shifted in his bed again. The last three days had been difficult. Instead of facing the woman who tempted him, his only company was a small dog who had taken a spot in the corner of the room. “Do ye think I should have kissed her?” he asked his companion, who didn’t bother responding. “I was afraid if I kissed her, I’d have wanted more, and I couldn’t do that because I’m broken inside, as well as promised to someone else.”
It felt good to speak the truth to someone, even if that someone was a dog who seemed set on ignoring his late-night confessions. “I’m to marry someone my da chose for me with no mind to what I wanted, I’m sure. He would have seen to pick the bride who offered the most dowry. Probably a Campbell or a Wallace, I imagine.”
The dog finally responded with a sniff of sorts.
“Aye. I’m not pleased with the thought, either. Ye never met my wife. She was beautiful and full of spirit. She made me feel alive in a place surrounded constantly by death.” He let out a sigh. “You’ve seen Lindsay. She’s bonny and sweet. And talking with her is easy enough. I don’t feel as though I have to be more than who I am. She seems fine with me being a soldier. I could find peace and happiness with a woman like that. Yet, I’m to marry someone else and take on my duties as laird.”
As if she understood and wanted him to go to the castle that instant, Tre shot up from her resting spot and ran to the door, barking for the first time in his presence. Was she tired of hearing his ramblings? He couldn’t blame her.
Shane chuckled and shook his head at his silliness. “Do ye hear something out there that needs investigating?”
As soon as he opened the door, she shot out of the cottage. Her gray coat blended in with the darkness, but her shrill bark spoke of alarm. At the sound of Hades’s unrest in the small shelter behind the house, Shane slid the strap with his sword on his back and stepped outside. If someone thought to take his horse, they wouldn’t get very far.
Even if Shane didn’t stop them, Hades wouldn’t have it. He’d toss the thieves and return home.
But that was not the way Treun had gone. It sounded as if she was on the trail that led to the village.
“What is it, lass?” He came closer, then paused when he heard a whimper that had not come from the dog. Moving quickly now, he saw a lump on the ground. It was cloudy that night, but the moon gave enough light for him to see it was a person.
Not just a person but Lindsay.
He rolled her over, seeing blood at the corner of her mouth as well as her temple. The wetness glistened in the low light, even in her dark hair. Something darker than a shadow crossed her jaw.
For a moment, he froze with memories of another lass, injured and broken with blood still wet in her shiny black hair. But Lindsay’s eyes were closed, not staring up at him blankly. Her body was warm, not still and cold in death.
With a curse, he lifted her from the ground and carried her inside, setting her on his bed. Another whimper escaped when he shifted her, but her eyes didn’t open. As much as her sounds of pain worried him, they were better than no sound at all.
“Lindsay? Can ye hear me, lass?”
She didn’t answer. She needed a healer. He knew where to find one. But doing so would expose him. He would have to swear her to silence. Lindsay’s care was more important than his secrets.
He looked down at the woman in his bed and didn’t need even a full breath to decide there was no other choice. His aunt would help, and he’d deal with whatever happened after Lindsay was safe.
…
After making sure Lindsay was settled, he left his home and slinked through the woods to the other side of the village. He came around to the back of Bess’s cottage, which sat up on the hill closest to the castle. Looking in her window, he saw her in her bed, where any person should be this time of night.
He knocked and then knocked louder when she didn’t stir. She grumbled as she headed toward the door. He left his place at the window to be at the door when she opened it. She was no stranger to being pulled from her bed, as many people took a turn for the worse over the night hours.
“What’s wrong? Who’s ill? How long—” She stopped her usual litany of questions to stare at him. Putting two fingers together, she poked him in the shoulder as if to confirm he wasn’t a specter.
“Shane,” she whispered a moment before she clenched him in a fierce hug.
“Ye still have more strength than an old woman should,” he said.
“And ye’re still ill-mannered to speak of a woman’s age. Ye wee brat.”
“I may be a brat, but I’m your favorite brat, aren’t I, Auntie Bess?” He forced his best smile.
She smacked at him and gestured for him to come in. But now that she was awake and knew he was real, he needed to get her moving toward his cottage and Lindsay so his aunt could help the woman he’d left in his bed.
He knew well that the smallest injuries on the outside could sometimes be the result of mortal wounds inside one’s body. He’d thought she suffered a few broken ribs, which could lead to death.
“I canna come in. I need ye to come with me. Someone needs your help.”
With a nod, she donned a cloak and pulled on her shoes. He had picked up her basket of medicines she always kept by the door, ready to tend to someone at a moment’s notice. They fell into silence until they got to the lane that split, one path leading to the castle. As he turned for the one that went to Ronan’s cottage, she stopped and peered up at him with green eyes much like his own.
“We’re not going up to the castle?”
“Nay.” He shook his head once and then looked away. “I’m not staying there. We should hurry.”
In the cottage, he found Tre up on the bed, huddled next to Lindsay as if using her tiny body to warm the woman. He patted the little dog on the head as she jumped down. He lit a lamp and brought it to the stand next to the bed so Aunt Bess could see her patient more clearly.
“Who is this?”
“Lindsay. She’s staying with her Uncle Randall to tend to her cousins after her aunt died.” Shane didn’t want to give her last name of Cameron. He didn’t think his aunt would care, but the Camerons and the MacPhersons spent much time raiding each other’s lands. It was not an easy name to have in these parts, though at least she wasn’t a MacColl. No manner of beauty would wash that name clean.
“Bless her soul for spending any time with that worthless heap and his demon lads.” Bess frowned. “What’s happened to her?”
“I can’t say. I found her outside like this. She hasn’t woken or said anything. She did cry a bit when I picked her up.”
“Very well. Let me see to her. Ye can wait outside.”
For whatever reason, the idea of leaving Lindsay alone even in the care of his aunt brought a twist to his gut. He’d left Maria, and she’d died alone. He wouldn’t leave Lindsay to the same fate.
“Nay. I’ll stay here.” He stood straighter, prepared for a fight he’d see to winning, but his aunt only smiled.
“Ah. It’s like that, is it?”
He let out a breath and shook his head. “Can ye heal her instead of jumping to conclusions?” He’d forgotten how much the woman could hear things that weren’t spoken. “I think folk might be right when they call ye a witch,” he said with a smirk.
“She’s lovely,” his aunt said, ignoring him, and then frowned. “But she’s taken quite a beating.”
Shane’s fingers gripped into a fist. He would break Randall MacPherson for touching her rough. He opened his mouth to speak the threat, but another thought made his words catch in his throat. He swallowed before managing the quiet words. “Was it just a beating, or did he…” Shane swallowed, unable to say or even think the worst.
“As you’ll recall, I asked ye to step outside.”
He understood now. With a quick bow, he rushed out of the cabin. Tre looked to him and back to Lindsay for a moment before following him outside as if somehow knowing he needed her company more than it would benefit Lindsay. “Thanks, lass,” he said while sitting on the edge of the porch. He was surprised when the dog came to sit close to his side. “She’ll be fine. My aunt will see to it.”
But as he said it, he couldn’t be certain it was the truth. He was sitting out in the dark so his aunt could inspect the damage done to this strong, sweet woman. He’d seen what happened to women who had been violated in that way. The fear that never left their eyes.
Restless energy and anger had Shane standing and pacing on the path in front of the cottage. Tre kept up with him. He knew if he went to face Randall, he would end the man. He recalled the rage he’d launched on the French soldiers after he’d found Maria. Instead of risking such a massacre, he stayed where he was. It was more important to be there for Lindsay than to sate his anger.
A few minutes later, his aunt came out. A nod of her head communicated he could return inside.
“She’s not been touched,” his aunt confirmed.
Shane nearly fell to his knees in relief. She was not his, but still, he never wanted her to suffer such a thing.
“I don’t think her ribs are broken, just badly bruised. It looked to be a boot print.”
They shared a frown before she went on.
“She has a knot on her head that most likely put her into this sleep. She shouldn’t be moved. She needs to rest and will wake up when she can. I got some willow bark tea into her and left some on the table for you to give to her when she needs it for the pain.”
Tre hopped on the bed again and snuggled in at Lindsay’s hip.
“It looks like you have someone to help tend to her.”
Shane patted the mutt on the head. “Aye. Thank ye, aunt.”
She nodded.
“I’ll see you home.”
His aunt crossed her arms as her brows raised. He was foolish to think he could take her home without answering any of her many questions. This was the price he’d pay for her help. He glanced at the woman in his bed and took a settling breath.
“From the looks of this cottage, I’d gather you’ve been here for at least a week.”
He blinked. “Are ye asking me a question or speaking your observations?”
She laughed. “Very well. How long have ye been home?”
“You had it right. It’s been almost a week.”
“And no one at the castle knows.”
“Ye know well what awaits me at Cluny. I’m to be named laird and married off. Is it so much to want a reprieve from that? To want a bit of peace after being away at war for years?” He’d not tell his aunt of all he lost in France. He couldn’t talk about it.
“Nay. It’s not. I understand.”
“You do?” He tilted his head and narrowed his gaze. “And you’ll not speak of my being here?”
She shook her head. “It’s not my business. Besides, who would I tell? Deirdre?” She made an incredulous noise and a face to go with it. “We don’t sit for chats, she and I.”
That was certainly true. The women hadn’t been friends. Aunt Bess was Shane’s mother’s sister. As such, she didn’t care for the way Deirdre tossed away his mother’s things to make room for her more expensive tastes. Deirdre insisted on fancy gowns and jewels. She dressed more like a queen than the lady of the keep. She acted as a queen as well. Expected everyone to bow to her wishes.
“Thank ye for keeping my secret.”
She waved a hand. “As I said, it’s not my business. But know ye can’t hide away here forever. Eventually, everyone must step into the role they’re meant for.”
“I know. I want a little more time.” It would never be enough time.
“With her?”
He nodded. There was no sense in trying to hide his feelings from the old woman. She’d known the answer before asking the question. She’d seen the panic and worry in his eyes.
“Maybe you shouldn’t return to the castle alone.” Bess winked.
It was late and Shane was too exhausted to follow along, so he shook his head. “I’m not taking your meaning, aunt.”
“If you were to arrive at the castle already wed, that would certainly upset Deirdre’s plans to marry ye off for coin.”
Shane smiled. “You would enjoy that, wouldn’t you?” Leave it to his aunt to stir up trouble for Deirdre.
She nodded toward Lindsay. “I think it would help the lass as well.”
“Perhaps.” The idea sprouted like a seed dropped into fertile soil. As he escorted his aunt home and returned to the cottage, he thought of how it might be to have Lindsay as his wife instead of the faceless woman his father and stepmother had chosen for him. Marrying her would offer her protection. She wouldn’t need to fall prey to her uncle’s abuses again. It seemed the right thing to do.
He and Lindsay were well suited. They were content to simply sit and talk to each other. But would it be fair of him to take a woman like that and force her into the role of Lady MacPherson? Her days would be taken up with the running of the castle instead of quiet walks in the woods.
She was barely managing her rowdy cousins. How would she handle her duties as the laird’s wife? He imagined one of those duties more than the other. Her nights would be spent with a man who might eventually be able to give her his body but never his heart.
It wasn’t the first time he’d thought of taking Lindsay Cameron to his bed. But it was the first time he’d thought of her as his wife as he did so, to have the blessing of the church if not the blessing of their families.
If she were his wife, he could protect her. Except he’d not been able to protect his last wife, had he? He could only imagine what his clan would think of him marrying a Cameron lass. They may never accept her, but he could force their obedience if not their loyalty.
He laid out some furs by the low fire and settled in to sleep as dreams of Lindsay MacPherson played about in his head. The two women, Maria and Lindsay—past and future—intertwined as he slept. Memories he had with Maria were taken over with Lindsay’s smile, while he imagined Maria in the cottage playing with Tre. He woke at light, still tired from spending what was left of the night wrestling with what he was to do next.
He didn’t wish to marry, and if given the choice he’d not do it ever again. But he would have to marry. Why not at least choose a wife he cared for?
He went about breaking his fast, making enough for her as well. When she didn’t wake in time to eat, he gave some to the dog and then ate the rest of her share, too.
“If ye don’t wake soon, you’ll be responsible for making me soft in the middle,” he threatened playfully before brushing a bit of hair back from her lovely face.
“Wake up, lass. We have important things to discuss.”