#2
Caitrina gave her father’s old guardsman a measured look. “It is the laird’s duty to keep himself apprised of all that is going on in the castle. Perhaps caution on his part is warranted given the accident that nearly took both our lives.”
She’d yet to speak with Seamus about what had happened, but Jamie had done so first thing this morning.
Her father’s old guardsman claimed that while he’d been hoisting one of the large beams into position, a rope had slipped, knocking another piece of wood off the platform.
The knocking was the sound that had alerted Jamie to danger and saved their lives.
To a one, her clansmen swore that it had been an accident.
Unfortunately, Jamie’s men had not been in position to prove otherwise.
Without proof, Jamie had been reluctant to further stir up the Lamont clansmen’s resentment by punishing Seamus, but he’d warned the older man that if there were any more “accidents,” he would find himself with a rope around his neck—“proof” or not.
“Aye, that was a terrible mistake,” Seamus said with unabashed sincerity. Caitrina couldn’t tell if it was an admission and he was attempting to offer some sort of apology.
She held his gaze. “Seamus, promise me nothing like that will happen again. I know it is difficult, but we must try to adjust—”
“No!” The vehemence in his voice took her aback. “We’ll never accept a Campbell as laird. It pains me that you would say so, lass.”
How could she explain that she’d done what she’d thought best under the circumstances?
“If you had anything to do with what happened—”
“Not now, lass. It will all make sense soon enough. But hurry, we don’t have much time. Follow me.”
He tried to take her hand and drag her into the trees toward the mountains, but she dug in her heels, refusing to budge. “Where are you taking me? What is all the secrecy about?”
Seamus looked around again and lowered his voice. “I can’t explain now, it’s too dangerous—one of his Campbell guardsmen could come along at any moment—you’ll have to come see for yourself. But trust me, lass, this is something you don’t want to miss.”
Caitrina hesitated, not feeling right about traipsing after Seamus into the wilderness.
After what had happened … something in her urged caution.
And then there was Jamie’s order for her to stay at the castle.
She bit her lip. She hadn’t given much thought to its purpose but merely reacted against the presumption.
What if he had a reason beyond his general protectiveness?
A prickle of guilt needled at her. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Perhaps tomorrow—”
A disembodied voice, coming from behind one of the trees deeper in the forest ahead of them, cut her off. “God’s wounds, Caitrina, must you always be contrary? Haven’t I told you repeatedly that men prefer biddable women?”
The hair on her arms electrified as shock froze every bone, every muscle, every nerve ending of her body.
Her hand went to her throat as she stared wildly in the direction of the achingly familiar voice. She shook her head. Dear God, it can’t be. “No …”
A man stepped out from behind a tree, his tall, wide-shouldered body silhouetted by the low light and trees. “I’m afraid so, little sister.”
The blood drained from her body. Niall.
She was seeing a ghost. It was too much to believe. The rush of emotion to her chest was too much to take.
“Catch her,” he said, taking a step forward. “I think she’s going to …”
But Caitrina didn’t hear the rest as darkness rose up to swallow her.
Ouch. Someone was slapping her cheek. Caitrina twisted her head and batted the hand away. “Stop that!”
A man laughed. “I’d say she’s fine. Looks like the blow to the head didn’t soften her temper any.”
Caitrina opened her eyes and gazed into familiar blue depths. She drank in every inch of his handsome face. It was lean and weather-beaten and bore a few new scars, but there was no mistake. Tears welled in her eyes as she placed her hand on his rough-whiskered cheek. “You’re real.”
A smile curved his mouth into the roguish grin he’d perfected many years ago—well before it had proved so devastating on the village lasses. “Aye, love. As real as they come.”
She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into the dusty leather of his heavy quilted cotun.
Niall. Dear God, it was really him. The happiness she felt at having her brother returned to her from the dead was unfathomable.
She felt as if a light had just shone on the dark corner of her heart she’d thought closed off forever.
And now he was here. Her irritating, teasing, cocksure brother was alive and by all appearances well. But she could see that, like her, he’d changed. He was harder, sadder, angrier.
The hot ball of emotion lodged in her chest exploded into a torrent of choking tears. Niall held her, smoothing her hair as he murmured soothing words. “Shush, Caiti, it’s all right, I’m here.”
She pulled back, blinking the tears from her eyes, feeling as if she’d just woken from a terrible dream. “But how?” Her eyes narrowed with sudden realization. “Why did you not tell me?” She swatted him on the arm. “How could you let me think you were dead for so long?”
He chuckled. “Now there’s my sister. I’d begun to fear the sweet sobbing creature in my arms was someone else.” His eyes swept over her meaningfully. “You look different, Caiti. I almost didn’t recognize you.” He took in her dirty gown and worn arisaidh. “What’s happened to you, lass?”
A wry smile played upon her mouth. “I’ve changed.”
“So I see. The damn Campbells have made beggars of us all.”
Niall’s anger made her wish she’d purchased the new cloth Jamie had insisted upon, but now was probably not the time to point out that Niall and Jamie were in agreement on the subject of her clothing. Instead she asked, “Where have you been, Niall?”
“I’ll explain everything, but first come with me.” He stood up and held out his hand to help her up.
She looked around and for the first time realized they were not in the forest, but in a cave. The tunnel of stone was dark and musty, the air cool and damp. “Where are we? How did I get here?”
“We’re in a cave near Ascog, and as for how you got here, I carried you.” Niall rubbed his back. “For such a wee lass, you sure weigh a lot.” She swatted him again, and he laughed. “After you fainted …”
Now that demanded an immediate response. Her spine straightened at the affront. “I don’t faint.”
“You do now.” Niall grinned again, and she thought if she weren’t so happy to see him, she might shoot him.
She opened her mouth, intending to give him a few choice words on the subject, but he cut her off.
“I think, under the circumstances, it is understandable.” He called over to one of the men guarding the mouth of the cave. “Isn’t that so, Seamus?”
“Aye, Chief, very understandable.”
Chief. Caitrina met Seamus’s gaze with dawning understanding. Of course. Niall was Chief of the Lamonts—or would be, if it were known he was alive. Seamus’s attitude suddenly made sense.
“Come …” Niall took her hand and led her deeper into the cave. “Come see why I have brought you here.”
They walked about fifteen feet in the semidarkness and reached a fork.
“Be careful,” he warned. “It’s easy to get lost in here.”
Caitrina clutched his hand a little harder and ducked as they entered a tiny chamber.
A few torches had been secured to the walls, and on the dirt floor there was a makeshift pallet with a large deerhound laid out at its foot.
It looked almost like Boru. One of her father’s guardsmen was bent over. …
And there in the flickering torchlight, Caitrina had the second biggest shock of her life.
“Brian!” She ran forward and dropped to her knees, gathering his limp body in her arms.
“Caiti!” He coughed weakly. “I knew you’d come. Just like Boru. He was waiting for me when I returned.”
Realizing how ill he was, she released him gently. Her eyes traveled over him, taking in every detail of her brother’s bedraggled appearance: the thin, dirty face, the arm in a sling, the bloodstained bandage wrapped around his head.
She turned to Niall. “What’s happened? What’s the matter with him? We must get him help.”
Niall shook his head, indicating he didn’t want to say anything in front of the lad.
Caitrina looked back down at Brian, but his eyes were closed. A pang struck in her chest. Seeing her must have sapped him of his strength. She adjusted the plaid around his shoulders, making sure he was warm, and then leaned down to place a kiss on his head.
Tears glistened in her eyes again. Her throat grew thick with happiness. It was unbelievable. Niall and Brian both alive. She looked around, half expecting to see …
Her eyes met Niall’s. He must have guessed her silent question and shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid not, Caiti. Malcolm fell not long after Father.” His face hardened, becoming unrecognizable. “At the hand of Campbell of Auchinbreck: your husband’s brother.”
A chill went through her. The happiness she’d found with Jamie suddenly felt wrong. His eyes pinned her as if challenging her to deny it. She winced at the silent accusation. “Niall, I can explain—”
“You will, but not here.”
She took a few more minutes with Brian, simply savoring the sight of him. Though weak and clearly dangerously ill, he was alive. She smoothed her hand across his warm, clammy forehead. God, how she’d missed them.
Knowing that there was nothing more she could do for him right now, she gave Brian another kiss on the head and followed Niall back toward the larger chamber near the mouth of the cave.
Niall pulled up a dried-out log they’d been using for a stool. “Sit.”
She did as ordered, and he took a seat beside her.
“I know you have many questions, and I’ll do my best to answer them. But then you will answer some for me.”