Highland Destiny (9 page)

“I am verra sorry, Balfour,” she said softly as he moved to the side of the bed, taking his tightly clenched hand in hers when he sat down.

“Why?” He sighed and dragged his fingers through his hair before rubbing the back of his neck. “Ye were right.”

“I had guessed that. What I am sorry for is that ye had to find out how bitter betrayal can taste. Ye did naught to the woman to deserve that.”

Balfour lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “Your sympathy for my trouble is sweet and most welcome, but ’tis nay what I seek now.” He smiled faintly when her eyes widened. “I ken that this isnae verra flattering, but I must clear my head, and I think that loving you will do it.”

She laughed and pulled him down onto the bed. “I understand. First comes the passion which steals every thought from your head, then comes the sweet aftertime when your senses return and your body is at ease. ’Tis a perfect time to put some order into one’s thoughts.” She touched a kiss to his lips. “Just dinnae make it the only reason ye seek my bed, or I shall begin to feel like little more than a chamber pot.”

“That will ne’er happen.”

Maldie said nothing, just greedily returned his kiss. He made such vows because he thought he knew her. There was a good chance that he would never retrun to her bed once he found out the truth. He would feel betrayed, and the look she had seen on his face when he had entered the room told her how he felt about betrayal. The thought that he might soon cast her out of his bed, even out of his life, made her all the more greedy for his lovemaking.

Even as he tugged off her clothes, she hurriedly worked to remove his. When their flesh finally met she shivered with pleasure. Although she still sensed his anger he was not turning it against her in any way. She saw it as a challenge. It made her eager to see if she could stir his passion so high, make it so hot and fierce, that it burned all of that anger away, even if only for a little while. Maldie hoped that she could also soothe away some of the pain of betrayal.

Balfour grunted in surprise when Maldie suddenly pushed him onto his back, straddling him with her lithe body. Before he could say anything she began to stroke and kiss his body. He pressed his lips together, almost afraid to say a word for fear that it would cause her to stop what she was doing. When she began to cover his chest with soft, lingering kisses, occasionally teasing his skin with her tongue, he threaded his fingers
through her thick hair and struggled to control his swiftly rising passion long enough to see how daring she would be.

That proved almost impossible when she began to intimately caress him, first with her small, soft hand, and then with her tongue. He shuddered beneath her caresses, fighting for the restraint needed to fully savor her loving. When she slowly took him into her mouth, he cried out from the strength of the pleasure she gave him. Too soon he knew he had to end it and he pulled her up his body. She needed little direction, sheathing him with a sultry skill that left him gasping for breath. He forced her mouth down to his, kissing her fiercely as she brought them both the release they ached for. When she collapsed in his arms he clung to her, feeling an odd mixture of intensely alive and as weak as a newborn.

It was not until Maldie eased the intimacy of their embrace, hastily washed them both off, and then curled up at his side, that Balfour was able to think clearly again. His first thoughts were not of Grizel, Beaton, or traitors. Maldie had just made love to him in a way few women knew, and in a way he had never shown her or told her about. Recalling her innocence, the proof of which he had seen with his own eyes after their first joining, did little to still a growing unease. Such loving did not steal a woman’s maidenhead.

“How did ye ken what to do?” he demanded, looking down at her and silently cursing his need to even ask the question.

Maldie sighed dramatically and cast him a mournful look, pleased to see him flush guiltily. She knew she should probably be highly insulted by the obviously unkind thoughts churning in his mind, but she was not. She had just made love to him in a bold way only the most experienced woman should know about. Such skill in a woman he thought an innocent should give him pause. The true insult would come if he did not believe her explanation for, unlike some of the other things she told him, it would be the truth.

“Did I nay clear your mind as ye wished?” she asked.

“Weel, aye, but…” He frowned in confusion when she laughed softly and placed one long finger over his lips.

“Nay, I but tease you. My mother told me that men like that. Was she wrong?”

Balfour was shocked, angry at her mother, and saddened by this unhappy glimpse into her life. “Nay, she wasnae wrong in what she said.” Recalling the intense pleasure she had gifted him with, he smiled and brushed a kiss over her mouth. “She
was
wrong to tell ye about such things. Was she trying to—” he stuttered to a halt, unsure of how to ask the question without delivering a grave insult to her mother.

“Was she trying to make me a whore?” Maldie smiled a little sadly when he looked uncomfortable. “Aye, at times I think she was. I could have earned a heavy purse for a few years, until my beauty and softness began to fade. Howbeit, I think that she often had naught else to talk about. Men and how to please them enough so that they would pay her weel was all she knew.” She snuggled up to him. “But let us talk about what made ye so angry.”

“I regret to say that I lost the chance to call ye a fool.” He felt his anger return, but knew he could control it now. “As I told ye, that ragged figure was indeed Grizel and she met with three of Beaton’s men. I fear they refused to be taken alive. This small victory over Beaton would have been a lot sweeter if I had gained the chance to wring a few
secrets out of one of his men.”

“Is Grizel still alive?”

“Aye, but she will tell me naught. If she kens any secrets about Beaton she will take them to her grave just to spite me. She made no attempt to save herself, just sat there and spit the ugly truth right into our faces.”

“Her hatred for you is even stronger than I had guessed if she will let it take her to her death.”

“Oh, aye, ’tis verra strong indeed. It turned her hand to murder.”

“Are ye certain?”

He nodded, idly rubbing her slim back and surprised at how simply touching her gave him the strength to control his grief and anger. “She confessed to the deed. Do ye recall my speaking of our healer’s use of leeches and bleeding when I first brought ye to Donncoill?”

Maldie felt a chill flow through her body, horrified by the thought forming in her mind, but knowing it was the truth, and her voice was softened by shock as she said, “Ye told me that ye dinnae believe in it, not always, and that ye thought it had hastened your father’s death.”

“It may have done more than hastened it. Grizel boasted of how she used her place of honor as our healer to kill the mon before our verra eyes. She said that she slowly bled him until he had no blood left to give. I ached to kill her, but James stopped me.” He grimaced. “I had my sword drawn and was eager to cut down an old, bitter woman.”

“There is no shame in that. She killed your father, cruelly and with no remorse.” She kissed his cheek. “Ye didnae kill her. E’en James couldnae have stopped you if ye truly wished to cut her down. Dinnae brood o’er what ye almost did. Think on what ye must do now.”

“I must tell Nigel and then I must speak to her kinsmen.” He held her tightly for a moment. “I would prefer to stay right here.”

“Ye cannae. If ye wait too long to speak to Nigel and Grizel’s kinsmen, they will hear it all from someone else. News this grave cannae stay a secret for verra long. The whispers have probably already begun.” She smiled gently when he cursed and got out of bed. “Nigel must hear this from you, not through whispered rumor and half-truth.”

“I ken it,” he muttered as he tugged on his clothes. “I but pray that I can keep a rein on my temper. It serves no purpose and will only feed his.”

Maldie turned on her side, tucking the sheet around herself, and she grinned at him when he turned to look at her. “Shall I wait here then, my laird?” She was pleased when he laughed, glad that she could banish the sadness from his eyes if only for a moment.

Balfour kissed her, then gave one last adjustment to his plaid before moving toward the door. “’Tis a verra tempting offer, lass, and I ache to accept it, but I think ye may be needed to tend to Nigel. He will be as mad with fury as I was when I first heard the truth.”

“Of course. Such anger could easily weaken him or make him move too quickly. When ye are done telling him this sad tale, just rap thrice upon my door and I shall go to him.”

The moment the door shut behind Balfour, Maldie flopped onto her back and indulged in a hearty bout of cursing. This was Beaton’s doing. He had used the hatred of a bitter, old woman to hurt Balfour and to steal a young boy from his home. The murder
of Balfour’s father may not have been done on his orders, but Beaton undoubtedly reveled in the deed and probably rewarded the murderer. Beaton was long past due for a harsh reckoning. The only question was who would get to him first—her or Balfour?

The sharp taste of the strong wine did little to calm Balfour, but he refilled his goblet anyway. He glanced around the great hall and saw few people even though the afternoon meal had been laid out for an hour or more. Balfour prayed that it was because no one had any appetite and not because he had just judged and hanged one of their clan.

He winced and took another long drink as he thought of the hanging he had just carried out. Grizel had been unrepentent at her brief trial, and had heartily cursed him and his family until the rope around her neck had cut off her bitter words. Balfour was not sure what troubled him most, her unwavering hatred and contempt, or the fact that he had carried out his first hanging as laird of Donncoill. Despite her crimes, he found no satisfaction in Grizel’s death and certainly no pride in the fact that he had ordered one of the very few hangings of a Murray that had been held at Donncoill since the clan had first claimed the land.

“Come, laddie,” said James as he sat down next to Balfour, his gruff voice soft with understanding. “Ye did what ye had to do. The woman condemned herself with her own words. Mayhap ye could have excused the betrayal, but she killed your father, her laird.”

“I ken it.” Balfour slouched in his chair. “And she gave my father neither a swift nor an honorable death, so ’tis only just that she didnae get one either. I have no liking for hangings and found the need to order one a distasteful duty. In truth, I am verra angry that the old woman forced me to do it.”

“Mayhap that was her last small act of revenge.”

“Aye, mayhap.” He smiled crookedly. “It has been a verra long day e’en though ’tis but half-done. We found our traitor, judged her, and hanged her.”

“Aye, your wee lass’s bones proved to have more wisdom than we did.”

“I think it will be a long time ere I can shake free of the guilt I feel o’er my father’s death.”

“Guilt? Why should ye feel any guilt?” James helped himself to a tankard of wine.

“Because I stood there and watched that woman kill him. She made me an ally to her crime.”

“Nay,” James said sharply, startling two young pages who lurked in the shadows near the wall waiting to see it they were needed to serve their chief. “Grizel was the clan’s healing woman. Your father himself named her so.”

“But I was uneasy with the way she cared for him. I watched her bleed him again and again and thought it was weakening him instead of helping him, but I didnae stop her. It also should have occurred to me that a lover he had so coldly cast aside was not the right woman to tend to him.”

“Your father should have kenned that. He ne’er said a word and it was days ere he grew so weak he couldnae speak. I ken that my words willnae cure ye of your guilt, but believe me when I say, ye carry none for your father’s death. None of us saw the crime; none of us suspected the woman.”

Balfour nodded, but he knew it would be a while before he could convince himself of that. It was hard to accept that he could have saved his father and had done nothing. Eric, too, might have been saved from the ordeal he was suffering if he had just paid a little more heed. Grizel had been betraying them for years, and it was hard to believe there had never been a sign of her treachery, one he would have seen if he had just been a
little more alert. He shook aside those dark thoughts, knowing they were futile for he could not change the past, could not correct his mistakes.

“Weel, at least we now have proof that Maldie is no enemy,” he said as he picked at the bread and cheese on his plate.

“Do we?” James murmured as he spread a thick layer of brown honey on his bread.

“Aye. She was the one who showed us who the traitor was.”

“That she did.”

“Grizel was helping Beaton. If Maldie is also helping Beaton, she wouldnae give us one of his spies.”

“Why not?” James wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his jupon and looked straight at Balfour. “What better way to make your enemy think ye are their friend?”

“Nay, I cannae believe it.”

“Ye dinnae want to e’en think it and I can understand. Howbeit, we have just had clear proof of what can happen if we dinnae look closely at everyone around us. Grizel was a Murray, yet she murdered her laird and worked for her clan’s enemy.”

“And Maldie isnae e’en a Murray,” Balfour whispered.

“Aye. In truth, we dinnae ken who she is. She says she is a Kirkcaldy, but we have no proof of that and cannae afford to send men to the Kirkcaldys to test her claim. She has ne’er told us who her father is either. Has she told you?”

“Nay.”

Balfour inwardly cursed and pushed away his plate, his appetite completely gone. He did not want to listen to James, did not like the taint of suspicion that was entering his heart. The mere thought that Maldie might betray him cut him deeply. If it was only his own life at stake, he was sure he would not want to know, would rather go to his death in blissful ignorance. Unfortunately, if he allowed her to lead him into a trap, a lot of his clan would be right there at his side.

“I just ask ye to be careful,” James said quietly. “Aye, she is a bonny lass and she seems all that is good. But Grizel was an evil-tempered woman who liked no one, and she fooled us. How much easier it would be for a sweet-faced girl to lead us to our deaths.”

“Yet ye have found naught to accuse her with.”

“I ken it. E’en so, she tells one little about herself and she simply appeared, walking into our lives out of nowhere. That alone should make us cautious.”

“And she kens a great deal about Beaton and Dubhlinn. There is something to ponder. If she means to betray us, then why would she tell us so much that can help us?”

“It could also ensnare us. There is no kenning if what she tells us is the truth. I hear little from our mon at Dubhlinn. I am nay sure if he is even still alive. There is no way I can find out if what she tells us will help us save Eric and defeat Beaton, or if it is all some clever ruse meant to lead us down a path Beaton has chosen.”

“Why would she save Nigel’s life?”

“To make ye indebted to her and thus trust her.”

“Why would she bed down with me?”

James shook his head. “Ye didnae need me to teach ye how weel a woman can use her womanly charms to make a mon stupid and blind.”

“She was an innocent, James,” Balfour said softly, not wanting anyone else in the hall to hear him. “I saw the blood that marked her so.”

“There are ways a woman can trick a mon into believing she still has a
maidenhead.”

Balfour finished off his wine and abruptly stood up. He did not want to discuss the matter any longer. His mind still reeled from discovering all the crimes Grizel had committed and the hanging he had been forced to carry out. The very last thing he wanted to hear or be convinced of was that Maldie was also betraying him.

“Enough, James. Ye are right to try and make me open my eyes. ’Twas my blindness that allowed Grizel to do all she did. Howbeit, I am unable to deal with the matter with a clear head and widely opened eyes. Later.” He started toward the door, then hesitated, briefly looking back at a frowning James. “I give ye leave to step in and stop me if ye can see that I am making a great fool of myself. Too many others could lose their lives if I am left to learn another harsh lesson on my own.”

All the way up to Nigel’s room Balfour tried to push James’s words of warning from his mind, but they refused to be dismissed. Grizel’s betrayal had left him unsure of his own judgments. Just because he felt Maldie was not another Beaton spy did not mean it was so. He had thought Grizel was safe.

He stepped into Nigel’s room and tried to return Maldie’s welcoming smile. “I can sit with Nigel for a wee while, Maldie. Go and have yourself something to eat.”

She nodded and walked out of the room, pausing only to squeeze his hand in a brief gesture of sympathy. The moment the door shut behind her he let out the breath he had not realized he had been holding. He needed to sort through James’s suspicions and warnings a little before he faced her again. It would be too easy to give them away in word or deed and, if Maldie was a traitor, the worst thing he could do was warn her that he had guessed her game.

“The woman is dead?” asked Nigel.

“Aye, Grizel went to her hanging as ill-tempered and contemptuous as she lived her life,” Balfour replied.

“I wish I had had the strength to watch it.”

“Nay, ye would have gained little from seeing her die. I didnae. I cannae feel I avenged our father’s death, for my guilt o’er that outweighs any satisfaction from finding his killer. And, when all is said and past, there sits the fact that she was just a bitter old woman, a lover cast aside. She did a lot of harm, but hanging her doesnae change that.”

Nigel grimaced. “I ken it. It does stop it, however. She cannae hurt us or help Beaton anymore.” He studied Balfour for a moment. “Is it only your needless guilt o’er our father’s death that has ye looking so troubled?”

“’Tisnae needless. I could have stopped it.”

“Since ye are determined to heft that burden upon your shoulders, I dinnae think I can change your mind. And ye didnae answer my question.”

Balfour sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I find that I am willing to cast a suspicious eye on anyone now.”

“And by
anyone
ye mean the fair Maldie.”

“Aye, Maldie. Ye trust her.”

“I do, and I dare not start to think of her as a possible traitor. Ye ken how I feel about the lass, and how I must feel now that ye have made her your lover.”

“Did she tell ye that?”

“Nay, she said naught, but I am nay so weak-witted that I cannae guess why she didnae sleep on her wee bed in the corner last night. Ye move swiftly, brother.”

He could feel the heat of a blush upon his face, but Balfour just shrugged. “I dinnae see why that should make ye reluctant to suspect her of anything.”

“Trust me when I say that I couldnae do so fairly. ’Tis best if we dinnae discuss her at all.”

There was a chill to Nigel’s voice that surprised Balfour. His brother was jealous. He was certain of it. What he could not be certain of was how deep it went, how badly Nigel suffered from the loss of even a chance to hold Maldie. Balfour decided that Nigel was right. They should not talk about her. Nigel did not want to hear anything about what his brother was sharing with the woman he wanted, and Balfour did not really want to know how badly Nigel wanted Maldie.

Nigel cursed softly. “Does James feel she should be watched?”

“Aye,” Balfour replied. “She is a stranger.”

“Not to you,” Nigel grumbled, then waved Balfour to silence when he started to speak. “’Tis clear that James feels there is something amiss. Heed him. I willnae be a spy for you though. I cannae. As ye can tell, I am finding it hard to accept that I cannae just reach out and take the woman I want. I should like to think that I am a fair mon and wouldnae stoop to letting petty jealousies taint my thinking, but I would rather not be asked to test the truth of that. I owe the lass my life, and I dinnae wish to repay that with mistrust.”

“Neither do I.”

“I ken it and yet ye must. Ye are the laird and many lives depend upon you. And ’tis clear that ye would like to speak of this from time to time. Fine. I refuse to let a wee, green-eyed lass come between us. Talk if ye must.” He smiled crookedly. “Just dinnae tell me what a fine time ye are having with her. Ye tell me what troubles ye and I will play her advocate. After all she has done for me, ’tis only fair that she has one.”

“James says that saving your life is a verra good way for her to win our trust.”

“I didnae ken that the mon could have such a hard heart. Aye, he is right. I hope ye will understand when I say that the reason why she saved my life doesnae matter. I still owe her.”

Balfour nodded and poured them both a tankard of cider. “She has told me nothing of herself. Just wee glimpses into her youth with her mother.”

“She has had a sad life. Mayhap she just wishes to forget it all.”

“True. She kens a lot about Dubhlinn.”

“She stayed there for a while and she has the wit to notice things.”

“Ye are a good advocate,” Balfour drawled and was pleased to see Nigel grin.

For a while they continued in a similar vein, Balfour telling him things that could be suspect and Nigel pointing out how they could also be completely innocent. There were a few things Balfour did not tell him, cautiously avoiding any mention of the fact that he and Maldie were lovers and how good a lover she was.

Finally, unable to find any answers, he stood up. “Enough. We talk in circles. There is a good reason and a bad for every word she says and everything she does. I, too, dinnae wish to think ill of her, but I have no choice. I must try and look beyond what I feel and what I want to be the truth.”

“The curse of being the laird,” Nigel murmured. “I have but one request.”

When Nigel just scowled and hesitated, Balfour pressed, “What? I cannae grant your request if ye ne’er make it.”

“If Maldie proves to be a traitor, a spy for Beaton, what will ye do to her?”

Balfour flinched away from the thought of her guilt and what he might be forced to do about it, then cursed his own cowardice. “I dinnae ken. I willnae hang her if that is what ye fear. We all owe her your life and probably the lives of some of the other wounded men who crawled back from Dubhlinn that day. What else I may choose to do with her, I just dinnae ken.”

“Dinnae worry on it, Balfour. I just needed to ken that she would be safe. In truth, I dinnae ken why I e’en concerned myself with that. Ye would ne’er have the stomach to harm her. I dinnae think many of the men here would, not even James.”

“Nay, not even James. I think all I will do if she does prove to be helping Beaton is secure her so that she can tell him nothing until this fight is over.”

“Weel, I pray ye find nothing.”

“So do I,” said Balfour as he walked to the door, “if only because I will have a hellish time trying to make ye believe it.”

He smiled faintly as Nigel’s laughter escorted him out of the room. It was hard to accept that he was the one who would have to be suspicious of Maldie, have to watch her closely and weigh her every word. He would rather be in Nigel’s position and be her advocate. He would even prefer to leave it all in James’s capable hands as he had done at the start. He could do neither. He was the laird, and he could no longer shirk his responsibilities no matter how distasteful he found them.