Every Heart Has Its Day (14 page)

BOOK: Every Heart Has Its Day
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Tears filled her eyes. Though she had never been close to her laird, she always hoped that some day he would love her like a father should. “My laird must have issued the command.”

She moaned when he tightened his hold on her waist. The pain in her back matched that in her arm. She leaned forward to ease the pressure.

“Why?”

By time she told the full truth, she would not have a shred of honor left. “The Camerons canna continue to pay the special tax levied by our king.”

“Ye know of the tax?”

“Aye, but how do ye ken of it?”

He shrugged. “If yer laird had obeyed the king’s command, the levy would have ended.”

“Ye be mistaken. My clan pays because the king claims I stole from him.” She turned and looked at his chin. “I be not a thief. I left with naught more than I brought, save these boots and daggers, but they were a gift.”

“Mayhap someday ye will tell me who gave ye these gifts, and who taught ye to wield them.”

“Mayhap.” She shrugged. Pain tore through her back and shoulder.

“So ye believe the tax would end with yer death.”

“I be sure.”

“Yer laird would rather see ye dead than part with gold?”

“He took a dowry from Laird Grant.” Her cheeks heated with her confession. Usually the bride’s family paid the man, not the other way around.

“I thought he had wed Laird MacCauley’s daughter.”

“Two wives ago.” She sighed. “I thank ye for twice saving me from death’s door.”

“We be even, milady.”

“Ye growled those same words last night, and ye speak as though we have met afore. Who be ye, sir?”

He leaned down to her ear. “Ye ken who I be, Kasey.”

Her breath hitched. The warmth of his lips against her lobe made her shiver. Though the man behind her shared few traits with her memories, he acted much like Hunter.

Tears came to her eyes. Hope of seeing him again had often given her the strength to endure. Each time an emissary had visited, she prayed he brought Hunter, only to have her hopes dashed. Dare she believe fate had finally reunited them?

What if destiny had succeeded? She never understood which of her traits appealed to Hunter, but, for survival’s sake, she had forgone many of her virtues. If Hunter returned, would he be pleased with the woman she had become? A woman even she did not like.

She could not risk hope any more than she could look into her captor’s eyes. Shattered dreams would kill her more quickly than a blade.

“Why did ye borrow my dagger?”

“To skin a snake.”

“How could ye?” Kasey jumped from the trotting horse, rolled in the grass, then ran into the forest.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

Dillon gained his brother’s side. “What in blazes did ye say to her?” Without awaiting Connor’s answer, he reined his horse in the direction Kasey had fled. “Milady?”

She picked up a stone and skipped it across the water. “Let me be.”

“Ye be disturbed.”

“Disturbed?” She chose a flatter rock and winced when she threw it. “Nay, Dillon. I be a fool.”

“Ye be the wisest, bravest lass I ever met.”

“Ye must not ken many women.”

“I know enough.”

“Mayhap one has caught yer eye?”

“She cares not for me.” He shrugged. “It be just as well. As the third son, I have naught to offer a lady.”

“A wise woman seeks naught more than love.”

“Her laird demands more.”

“Have faith, my friend. Prove yer heart be hers. If a future be meant, ’twill happen.”

“Be ye wise enough to heed yer own counsel?” He picked up a flat rock and skimmed it across the water’s surface.

“Fate denies me the man of my dreams.”

“Ye utter a falsehood, milady.”

“Do I?” She sighed. “I be sorry, Dillon. I dwell too long on my troubles. Please, let me see yer back.”

“I be fine, milady.”

“I dinna know ye be a healer.”

“I ken when I be in pain, milady. However, if it would make ye feel better, I will let ye see for yerself—after ye tell me what vexes ye.”

“My worries be not yer concern.”

“Ye be wrong, milady.”

“Why would ye care?”

“I have my reasons.”

She threw her unbound hand into the air. “Does anyone here hold honesty dear? I tire of shrugs and lack of answers.”

“We be tired of trying to read yer mind, milady.”

“We? Ye refer to that hairy mountain ye call brother? He cares not a whit aboot my thoughts.”

“Ye be wrong, milady.”

“Nay, Dillon. Each question I pose garners naught but a riddle.”

“I feared he would muck this up.” He flung another rock. “My brother has risked much to come for ye. Please give him time to sort out what need be done.”

“If his plan be doomed, he should return me to the Grant. I swear to conceal his collusion.” She sighed. “I have no choice, since I dinna ken who any of ye be.”

“Which bothers ye more, milady? That my brother took ye away from yer betrothed or that he has yet to give ye his name?”

“I care not aboot the Grant.” She eased down on a tree stump. “But at least I had an idea what my future held.”

“And ye prefer an early death to a brighter future?” He knelt before her. “Think, milady. Ye must have noticed every man here treats ye with respect.”

“Because I took the arrow meant for yer brother.”

He shook his head. “Each man here risked his life in the siege.”

“They fought for ye.”

“And ye. Please, milady, dinna hate me, but I can say no more. I beg yer trust. When ye learn the truth, ye will be pleased.”

“Ye dinna know me well enough to guess what pleases me.” She glanced out at the water. “Even I be not sure. All that I ever hoped for has been stolen from me.”

“Tell me, milady. What have ye lost?”

“Two hopes have seen me through these three years past. One be as possible as holding a rainbow. Yer brother thieved the other.”

“Now ye speak in riddles.”

“After all he had done to me, to Evonne.”

“Evonne?”

“Mylifelong friend and lady’s maid.” She stared at the horizon. “He killed her.”

“Who killed Evonne?”

“Randall. Can ye not see? The right to send him to Hell belonged to me.”

Dillon chuckled.

She glared at him. “I be born to heal, but lived to kill. Yet yer brother took that from me.”

“’Tis why ye ran from him?”

She nodded. “I canna imagine the punishment yer brother will mete for my insolence.”

“Fret not, milady. He be not like the Camerons.” He patted her arm. “He might blister yer ears, but he willna lash ye.”

“I shall find out for myself after I check yer back.”

He nodded and turned to face the trail. Kasey raise his tunic. He laughed when her fingers feathered his ribs.

“Ye be ticklish, Dillon?”

He shook his head.

“I dinna believe ye.” She brushed a nail below each lash.

He contained himself for a few moments, then gave into laughter. She giggled along.

“Dillon!”

Her finger stilled at Connor’s bellow.

Dillon reached to catch her before she ran into the forest, but her quickness thwarted his attempt. He clenched his jaw and looked at his brothers. The anger on Connor’s face further riled him. “It be not what it seems, milord.”

Connor shook his head before he stormed off in the opposite direction Kasey ran.

“Be ye mad, mon?” Gavin asked.

“Ye dinna understand.”

“She belongs to him.”

“If he would open his eyes, he would see I already treat her as our sister.”

“Connor presently sees naught but green.”

“He must accept the bond we share.” Dillon pulled his tunic over his stomach.

Gavin grabbed his arm. “Explain this tie.”

“Ye want to know?” He pulled away, jerked up his shirt, and turned his back to Gavin. He ignored his brother’s gasp. “Lady Kasey risked much the nights after I received these marks. I shall never forget her concern or courage when she brought salve to ease my pain.”

“For what crime were ye flogged?”

“I had seen and heard naught of Lady Kasey. My attempts to befriend her clansmen failed. To gain their attention I dropped my sword. My foolishness earned three lashes.”

“Yer back bears more than three marks.”

“The arrow I shot over the wall merited another three. Randall gave me a slight reprieve for the strength the feat required.”

“Ye must tell Connor.”

“I shall, after we arrive home. Until then, I beg ye keep my secret.”

“Ye canna delay.”

“I can and I shall.” Dillon’s heart pounded in his ears. “As near as we be to the Cameron’s manor, Connor would demand immediate revenge. We finally have Lady Kasey in our fold. We canna risk her well-being for aught that canna be changed.”

“I dinna approve of withholding information, but I will abide by yer decision.”

“Thank ye, brother.”

“Do ye think...?”

He waited for his older brother to finish his question. When he could no longer tolerate the silence, Dillon asked, “What?”

“Has Kasey has suffered at their hands, too?”

Images of Evonne’s battered body flashed into Dillon’s mind. “God help Laird Cameron if she has.”

****

Connor glared at the fallen tree blocking his path. Its girth, like the trunks he tossed about during training, offered him a way to rid himself of anger. He hoisted and threw it a good distance ahead. It rolled down a mossy bank to again block his way.

The bole reminded him of the new Kasey—determined and strong, but dependent on others to move it along.

He picked up the caber and tossed it into a patch of wild roses. He hated that Dillon had gained her affection. Mayhap she found his brother more appealing. Mayhap his youth attracted her. Nay, since she cared not for shallow traits, the root must lie deeper. Mayhap Dillon had protected her, and she be grateful.

No matter the reason, she seemed to have a grand time running her hands over Dillon’s back. She should touch no one save him.

That would not happen any time soon. She could barely speak to him.

He had no one to blame save himself. He never should have sent his youngest brother into the snake pit. He should have garnered her release himself.

The two of them had not yet shared any good times. She nursed him through the fever, and before he had fully regained his health, the king had sent her home.

He picked up the tree trunk and heaved it into the stream. The current lodged it above a small dam. If only he could so easily cast aside whatever dammed his woman of the falls.

Determination surged. He would tend her spirit just as she had nursed his body. First she must accept that the king had pledged her to him, and he would share her with no man.

The need to beat his head against a tree nearly overwhelmed him. How could he be so foolish? He wanted her to fall in love with the man he had become, but she not need forget the man he had been. They could build on the foundation they had laid at Inverness.

He must get her to look into his eyes. After she remembered Hunter, he would confess and apologize for his deceit. He would fully answer her every question. She would forgive him and throw herself into his arms.

But first he must find her.

Along the way, he ran across his youngest brother. “Ye and I will discuss this matter after I speak to Kasey.”

Dillon nodded. “She be just around the bend in the river. Heed my warning, Connor. If ye hear loud splashes, wait. Anger spates atween sobs.”

Connor nodded and strode in her direction.

She flinched and cursed after each rock she heaved into the water. He waited until she sank onto the riverbank. He had to gain her attention before she started sobbing. “Kasey?”

She turned toward him.

Her puffy eyes and red nose tore at his heart. “Please, dinna cry. I forgive ye.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Pray tell me, sir. For what do I need forgiveness?”

Her lips barely moved. Her voice strained.

He had better tread lightly. “Ye understand not why yer actions with my brother be indecent and insulting.”

“My deeds be not yer concern.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Do ye?” Her hand trembled as she pushed the tendrils that had escaped her braid from her face. “Ye be not my father. Ye be too young and handsome to be our king. Be ye my husband?”

Before he could thank her for the praise, she prattled on.

“Nay, I had been but ten summers the last time I saw Laird Grant, but ye dinna resemble him in any way. Pray tell me, sir. By what right do ye claim responsibility for me?”

He took heart. Her betrothal to Alain Grant had not been a love match. One more obstacle remained. “Do ye care for Dillon?”

“Ye failed to answer my question.”

“After ye answer mine.”

“I asked first.”

He crossed his arms. “I be bigger.” She shrank before his eyes.

“Aye. I care for Dillon.” She toed the ground.

Connor took a deep breath. He needed to know, but feared her answer. “Deeply?”

“He be the younger brother I never had and so much more.”

“More?”

“He speaks with me, not at me. He allows me to be my true self, though sometimes I ken not who I be. He never mocks or degrades me. He be the first man in ages to respect me.”

“And what man before Dillon treated ye thus?”

She turned away. “It matters not.”

“Why, milady?”

“His sweet words be but a ruse.”

“What would he gain by playing ye the fool?”

“He required my skills. I be sure he has since found a woman more suited to his needs.”

“How could he? Ye be the best woman in all of Scotland.”

She spun to face him. “That be quite a claim for a man who knows me not. Hear my words and take them to heart. I shall never agin be a trusting fool. Hunter be dead to me, and he took my heart to the grave with him.” She fled toward camp.

“Ye be wrong, milady. Hunter be very much alive, and he be quite thankful to ken he has yer heart.” Now he must prove it.

****

Try as she might, Kasey could not outrun her memories. Hunter had died, at least in her mind. She would rather live alone than give another man the chance to shred the remnants of her heart.

She slowed when she reached the clearing.

“Ye be right on time, milady. Marcus has prepared stew for our evening meal. If it burns, he will spend the rest of the night in a lather.”

“I be not hungry, Dillon.”

“Ye must eat, milady.”

“I said I be not hungry.”

“I heard ye, but I beg ye to reconsider. Marcus be quite proud of his skill. If ye dinna eat, he will make the rest of us miserable.” Dillon leaned over and whispered. “He be worse than Laird Cameron afore his first drink.”

Kasey lifted her gaze to Dillon’s smile. “Ye jest with me?”

“I may have embroidered the truth a bit, but I assure ye Marcus will not take kindly to ye turning away his offerings. He has gone to great lengths to make his best stew ever.”

She followed Dillon to the fire where all the others, save her captor, gathered. Someone thrust a bowl of stew into her undamaged hand. She assured them she could wait until they had eaten their fill.

BOOK: Every Heart Has Its Day
5.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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