Dreamer (Highland Treasure Trilogy) (25 page)

Perhaps, she thought--returning
their stares--she had already become prejudiced in her affection toward those
farmers of her husband’s that she’d met. But she was certain none of Athol’s
people would have treated her so roughly. None, of course, but Roy Sykes, she
quickly corrected. Her scowl came to rest once again on the red-headed young
man crouched against the decrepit ruin of a stone hut. As he had done before,
the stable hand averted his eyes and focused on the stick of knotted wood he
was whittling away at with his dirk.  

Turning her attention back to Adam
of the Glen, Catherine realized that he had finally come to a stop and was
again appraising her closely. Looking up into his dark gaze, she was tempted to
meet his brooding fierceness with the same method that she had found so
successful with her husband...ignoring him. But this was different, she knew,
and she did not want to miss anything that she could learn about the man.

“This is fine work for grown men to
be doing,” she said brightly, casting a meaningful look at Ren and the other
man. Surprisingly, Ren shuffled his weight from one foot to the other and
stared at Adam’s back. The other looked down in what might have been judged as
embarrassment. Catherine almost laughed at the two of them.

Adam did laugh--a sharp, curt,
mirthless bark. “Aye. Fine work,” he snapped. “I finally have him where I want.
He’ll be crawling to me in search of the prize.”

Catherine was not happy having him
towering over her as they conversed. So, her hands still tied on her back, she
struggled a bit to get her balance and then came to her feet.

“I assume you are speaking of my
husband, since I have no brothers. And as far as my father goes--though he did
indeed consider each of his daughters a prize, unfortunately he was killed in
the Tower of London this past summer.”

“What’s all that to us?”

“Well, I just don’t know who
exactly you think will come crawling, for unless my father’s spirit is haunting
these hills, I can’t imagine who might be rising to your bait.” She took a half
step toward Adam, her voice taking on a confidential tone. “I assure you, my
husband will
not
come crawling for anyone.”

“You do not seem to be mindful of
your position, mistress.”

Before answering, Catherine cocked
a meaningful eyebrow in the direction of his gathered men and then said quietly,
“I do not think we should be discussing this in front of your men. I understand
your need to retain your position of authority, and since I can speak nothing
except the absolute truth, I honestly believe it would be best if you sent them
off a distance.”

His jaw dropped open for a moment,
but he quickly recovered. His expression, however, remained that of a man
looking at a madwoman.

Catherine leaned toward him and
lowered her voice even more. “Of course, you shouldn’t do that if you are
afraid of me. Though I’m bound up like a sheaf of barley, you can see that I am
still armed!” Using her head, she motioned toward the dirk tucked into her
belt. The same one that, with her hands tied behind her back, was no good to
her now. “I can, of course, understand your concern. I’m a very dangerous
opponent. The possibility that I might bring you some harm...”

Adam of the Glen turned abruptly
and shouted out an order, and his men immediately moved off to other fires, out
of earshot. There was no question who commanded here. Catherine watched in
silence as some began to settle in for the night, covering themselves in cloaks
or tartans, while others huddled together, talking and laughing. Finally, the
outlaw leader turned his attention back to her. Taking her by the arm, he led
her around the corner of the ruined cottage. Turning, he faced her directly.

“Countess...”

“Now,” she broke in with a toss of
her head, “regarding your words that I am not being mindful of what you
consider a vulnerable position...” She paused for effect, raising her voice a
bit as she continued. “To tell you the truth, I cannot see any reason why I
should be
fearful
of you. Considering the fact that we are kin, now. We
are as good as brother and sister, are we not?”

He took a menacing step toward her.
“Don’t mix foolishness with the truth, mistress. I’m not a man to be trifled
with.” Reaching out, he snatched the dagger from her belt with one swift
motion. Hefting the weapon in his hand, he eyed the keen-edged blade. It flashed
in the firelight as he turned it. “The first thing that you have to remember is
that I am your enemy. The second thing is that I have sworn to destroy
everything that belongs to your husband.”

“I don’t believe...”

“It doesn’t matter what you
believe, Countess,” he rumbled on. “For the past few weeks, I have tended my
traps, waiting to capture you...as I have. You are nothing more than a pawn, a
trifle, in the larger scheme of things. So you might consider shivering and
weeping, for that--and begging--might be the only thing that will spare your
pretty throat from the edge of this dagger.”

Perhaps she should have been
afraid, but a rising anger was the only thing Catherine could feel. This Adam
of this Glen was beginning to irritate her. She gave up any attempt to hold her
tongue.

“I do have to thank you for such a
thoughtful recommendation regarding what I should and shouldn’t do! But considering the source of this great wisdom, I’m afraid I’ll just have to decline your
offer. In fact, let me illuminate for you how
wrong
you are on all
accounts.”

“There is nothing...”

“Aye, nothing you can learn, I
suppose,” she scoffed. “Well, first of all, I have done you no wrong,
brother-in-law. Nothing for you to hate me or wish me harm.”

“I told you, you are just...”
“I know. I know.”

“You are his wife, and...”

“As far as this grand scheme of
destroying your own brother, I believe your troubles must come from some
twisted understanding, since you’ve given him no chance...”

“You do not know the betrayal...”

“I am not done,” she said sharply,
silencing him as his eyebrows shot up in surprise. “John Stewart is the one
betrayed here, from what I can see. But moving on to the rest of your errors, I
do not belong to my husband like the rest of his possessions of lands and
wealth. I am his wife. A thinking human being! Aye, a rational creature. And he is a man far superior to you, in my thinking, because he recognizes me as such.”

“If you think...”

“I am still speaking.” She spoke
her words through clenched teeth. “And as far as your...trap! You must be an
absolute simpleton with hired fools to run your errands if you think my
presence here is the result of some wondrous plan invented by you and carried
out by those baboons who brought me here.”

Adam looked at her suspiciously.
“What’s that?”

“I came out of Balvenie Castle of my own free will. Like the last time, when I eluded your men in the hills,
if I’d had any desire not to be caught, you would not have touched me, no
matter how clever you think you are.”

Catherine let out a breath and
stared unblinkingly into his murderous glare. Her only chance of success here
lay in the hope that he did not have the ability to read her mind--as his
brother did. Her stretching of the truth about coming here on her own free will
sounded quite convincing, though, she thought, even to her own ears.

“If you are finished...”

“I am not!” she added sharply. “Now
as far as your recommendation of shivering and weeping and begging, I will
gladly choose to have that blade cut my throat rather than grovel before such
arrogant disregard for what is right. ‘Tis the way my father went before me,
Adam, and I’ll take death over the life of a coward anytime.”

He stared at her for a long moment,
and then a glint of amusement appeared in the corners of his eyes.

“Well, now at least I know why my
blackguard of a brother chose a wife like you! You have the courage that Athol
himself lacks.”

“I will disregard that comment,
since it was spoken out of ignorance by someone who does not know John
Stewart.”

A bitter laugh erupted from the
giant Highlander. “Now ‘tis you who is in error, mistress! I know him much
better than you think.”

“The same way that he knows
you
,
I suppose? Tell me how well two grown men can know one another when, in their
entire lives, they have never met? When one of them didn’t even know the other
existed until half a year ago? When any blood connection between them was a
well-hidden secret until just a few weeks ago!”

Adam’s face expressed very clearly
his confusion at her words, but it quickly darkened with mistrust. “‘Tis easy
to lie about such matters! If he told you this, then I
know
him now to
be a liar as well as a coward. I believe he has
always
known about me. And nothing you can do or say will change my opinion on that little fact.”

Catherine opened her mouth to speak
and then closed it again. It was true that she and Athol had been married only
a short time, but when it came to trusting him--though she would not openly
admit it--she had absolute faith in him.  If John Stewart said that he had only
just learned that he had a half-brother, then she believed him. But what was more important, Adam believed that Athol had been aware all along of their kinship.
No wonder Adam’s hatred of his brother ran so deep.

“Now, as to your show of courage,”
he started again. “Do not be so witless as to think I can be swayed. No matter
what you say to defend him, my fight remains with your husband.” He lifted her
chin with the blade of the dirk. “And I’ll do anything...I’ll use every means
at my disposal to bring him down!”

The blade was cold on her skin, but
her eyes never wavered for an instant. “And I’ll do whatever I must to stop you
from doing just that.”

He laughed and lowered the blade.
“I’m certain you will, lass. But that’s a weak threat, considering you are my
hostage now and helpless, at best.”

“But once again, you are wrong
there, as well!” She didn’t know how it came to her, but suddenly she knew the
answer. Susan! It was more than possible. 

She looked up and appraised Adam of
the Glen with renewed interest. He was indeed a handsome man. And a well spoken one. And in his dealings with her, he had not once acted in an overly rough or
abusive way as she would have expected a villain to behave. Catherine’s gaze
drifted away from Adam and scanned the darkness around the clearing. She tried
to imagine how the two could have met!

“I respect you for wanting to do
the heroic thing, but you’ve been married to a blackguard, and I...”

“He’s no more a blackguard than
you.” She lifted her chin and stared straight into his face. “The earl of Athol
has always worked hard to do what is best for his people. No less. Why, as I
understand it, you’ve been living off the fruits of his labor for this past
half-year. What have you seen? People starving, abused, or overworked? Nay, I
think not. And I imagine, deep inside, you know that what I say is true.”

He turned away, but she stepped
around him until she could look into his face.

“‘Tis not he, Adam, who is stealing
and burning and terrifying the innocent folk who simply want to live out their
lives in peace.”

He gave a low, dangerous laugh.
“Nay? Not stealing? What has he stolen from me? You are not only a doting fool,
but even for a woman you are very naive about men. Innocence? Peace? What do
you know about it? Or about me? You barely know me, and yet you think you can
pass judgment...”

“I know you enough to trust you,
Adam of the Glen.”

“Then you are truly a fool.”

“Am I? Why do you think I’ve had no
fear for my life since we met?” She turned and glanced at the small window in
the wall of the stone cottage. She hoped that she was right. “But my confidence was not generated by first-hand experience, rather by having faith in the
worthiness that another woman has obviously seen in you.”

It was slight, but her probing eyes
didn’t miss his reaction to her words.   

“I believe in you,” she continued,
not wanting to give him time to recover. “Since I know that Susan has found you
worthy enough to bestow her trust in you...worthy enough to give you her
heart.”

“Susan? Who the devil is this woman
you speak of?” His voice was harsh, but his expression too guarded to be
effective.

“But perhaps I was too hasty in
thinking you worthy,” Catherine scolded. “When one thinks of all the danger she
puts herself in, coming here to you in the middle of the night, and you speak
of her as if she were some...some...”

“By the devil!” He turned abruptly
from her and flung the dagger violently onto the ground by the cottage. “I knew
she’d be found out, and I’ve told her not to do it! She’s been as stubborn as
a...”

“Adam,” Catherine said softly.
“Don’t you see that, as women, we do what we must? That we’ll walk across fire,
defy demons, risk the very wrath of God for what...and for whom...we love?”

The outlaw leader said nothing. His
eyes fixed on something behind Catherine, and she turned to see Susan standing
by the corner of the ruined cottage.

“I told you to stay put!” he
growled.

Susan’s dark eyes remained locked
on Adam before her gaze flickered and came to rest on the captive. Catherine
felt the gentle understanding pass between them. The sense of kinship that only
women can know.

“How could I?” Susan shook her
head, walking to him. “She is right, you know. She knows about women and love.”

Catherine silently watched as gazes
locked. There was so much that hung in the air. And though she was only an
observer, she could almost hear their unspoken words.

I love you!

I, too, love you. But I am an outlaw! A criminal!