Highland Lover (19 page)

there.”

Alana picked up the stick Gregor had used to poke at the snake. She stood back from the piled rocks

forming the marker and used the stick to carefully knock toward her what she had been reaching for

when she had confronted the adder. Picking it up, she hurried back to Gregor’s side and took his

hand in hers.

“Weel? What treasure did ye think was worth facing another adder?” he asked as they started

walking again. He frowned when she blushed and slowly opened her other hand to show him her

prize. “Alana, that is a rock.”

“Aye, and a verra pretty rock, too.”

“I see. Ye have decided that the cat and a full pack arenae enough weight for ye to carry and so ye

have decided to add a few rocks to it all. For this ye risked getting poisoned by an adder’s bite?” He knew he was revealing a little of the anger he had felt when she had put herself at risk again.

She sighed. She recognized the look that had settled upon his handsome face. It was the one men

wore when they thought they were dealing with some strange womanly whim. Or, she thought with

a faint smile, someone who was not quite right in the head. To many men, the two things were often

very similar. Alana doubted she could make Gregor understand, but she hoped an explanation

would help, if only in easing the anger he had clearly felt over the way she had returned to a place

where danger might still lurk. After all, it was already proving very difficult to reach his heart

without him thinking she was slightly mad.

“’Tis pretty,” she said, “and I like pretty things. ’Tis all swirling colors and it feels cool and

pleasant in my hand.” She carefully placed the rock in his free hand. “I like rocks. They are a

creation of God and nature, and that one has probably been lying about for more years than we

could e’er count.”

That was true, Gregor thought, not that he had ever considered the matter before. Rocks were

everywhere, and if he thought of them at all, it was that they could trip one and they hurt if one fell on them. This rock did feel cool, and it fit nicely in the hollow of his palm. He even supposed one

could say it was pretty. All that did not really explain why she had felt so compelled to collect it

that she had returned to what could have been a nesting ground for adders.

“’Tis also a memory,” she continued. “Years from now, I can pick that rock up in my hand and it

will stir all the memories of this adventure.” She accepted the rock when Gregor handed it back to

her and then placed it in the small pouch hidden in the folds of her skirt. “I often select a rock from places where something important happens or to mark a special moment.”

“And staring death in the eye wasnae enough to help ye hold fast to the memory of this moment and

this place?”

“Ah, weel, the adder was certainly frightening. I couldnae move or e’en think, just stare at it and

wait all asweat for it to bite me. But ye and Charlemagne came most gallantly to my rescue. Now,

each time I pick up this rock, I shall see it all again most clearly.” She shrugged. “Many people

have things to, weel, celebrate certain events.”

True enough, Gregor thought. He was not sure he wanted her to remember that a cat had saved her

life whilst he stood by like a dumb bullock, however. Still, he could understand keeping something

to stir one’s memory, which too often grew cloudy as time passed. He knew one woman who kept a

lock of hair from every lover she had had, but he decided that was not a tale to tell Alana. She might ask how he knew about it, and he did not want her to know that a lock of his hair was a part of that

woman’s ever-growing collection.

“That one rock is all ye need to recall this whole journey?” he asked, wondering why he felt an

increasingly sharp pinch of guilt and embarrassment whenever he thought of his somewhat

licentious past.

Alana blushed. “Weel, I do have one I found down by the river.” He did not need to know about the

one from the oubliette, or the cottage, or the inn where she had first seen him naked, or from the

camp where they had made love by the fire, she decided. Her pouch was starting to get a little heavy.

Gregor nodded and started walking, but inside he was grinning like a fool. The time by the

riverbank when he had finally claimed her was definitely a memory he wanted her to keep sharp.

He found he was a little sorry he had not collected one himself.

The sun was just beginning to disappear beneath the horizon when they reached the monastery. The

heavy doors that would allow them within the surrounding walls were already shut tight. Alana felt

tense with anticipation and fear as Gregor loudly rang the bell hanging beside the doors to call

someone to the gates. A few moments passed, which felt like hours to Alana, before a round-faced

monk opened one big door just enough to peer out at them.

“What do ye want?” he asked in what Alana thought was a rather unfriendly greeting from a monk.

“I need to see Brother Matthew,” she replied. “I am his cousin Alana Murray of Donncoill.”

“Murray?”

Alana widened her eyes in shock at the note of alarm in the man’s voce. “Aye, Alana Murray of

Donncoill. I am hoping that Brother Matthew will have some news concerning my sister, Keira

Murray MacKail.”

“Are your brothers with ye?” The man stuck his head out farther, stared at Gregor for a moment,

and then looked around. “Ye dinnae have those two savages with ye, do ye? They have already

been here twice. Twice, mind ye!”

“Savages?” Alana was starting to get annoyed by the way this man spoke of her family. “Let me

speak to Brother Matthew.”

“Nay!” the man snapped. “No more Murray lasses!” he bellowed and slammed the door shut.

Chapter 12

Blinking at the door that had been vigorously shut in her face, Alana heard the monk drop the bar in

place on the other side. He was muttering angrily but, although she could easily discern the tone of

his voice, she could not make out the words. A moment later she heard other voices. Some other

monks had arrived, and there was obviously a fierce argument going on just inside the doors. She

looked at Gregor, who had leaned against the rough stone wall and crossed his arms over his chest.

He looked far too amused for her liking.

“I believe Keira did indeed seek out our cousin Matthew,” she said.

“Och, aye, I would have to agree with ye, lass.” Gregor could not help himself, he started to laugh,

and the disgusted and slightly offended look Alana gave him only made him laugh harder. “And it

appears your brothers came avisiting as weel,” he added and laughed some more.

“’Tisnae that funny,” she muttered, wondering what her family could have possibly done to so upset

the monks of Saint Bearnard’s.

“Pardons, lass, but, aye, ’tis just that funny,” Gregor said as he started to calm down. “Do ye think he means the brothers ye were following?”

She sighed and nodded. “Aye, and I fear Artan and Lucas can be, weel, a wee bit intimidating if

they choose to be, although I cannae believe they behave so with monks. And why would they

come here twice? They do like Matthew, but they say that monks make them nervous. Something

about how they may truly have God’s ear and the vow of celibacy.” This time she had to smile

when Gregor laughed, but the opening of the door quickly drew her full attention. “Matthew!” she

cried when she saw who was standing there, but the door was not open enough for her to embrace

him as she wished to, and he appeared to be fighting to keep it open even that much. “Am I truly

unwelcome here?”

“Nay, of course not!” protested Matthew, speaking loudly in the vain hope of hiding the fact that

several other voices said aye. “There has been a bit of trouble lately, is all, and the brethren are a wee bit nervous.” He looked at Gregor. “Who do ye have with ye, lass?”

“Gregor MacFingal Cameron,” she replied and heard someone cry out, Och, nay, we cannae have

another one of them here, too!

Alana looked at Gregor and cocked one brow. “It appears that ’tis nay only my kinsmen causing

trouble.”

“Nay, nay, no trouble, cousin,” protested Matthew as he continued to fight to keep the door open as

someone just out of her sight was trying very hard to close it. “Wait there, lass, and ye, sir. I will join ye in but a few moments. Do ye have need of some food and drink?”

“Aye, if ye would be so kind. And I am seeking some word of Keira’s fate.”

“Weel, I have plenty to tell ye about that. Be patient for just a few moments and I will join ye. Wait there.”

The door was forcefully shut again and Alana heard more raised voices. She looked at Gregor again.

“This is all verra strange, aye? But I think there is a verra interesting tale to be told and I am most anxious to hear it.”

“I wonder if one of my kinsmen was here,” Gregor murmured as he frowned at the door, “or just

some mon named Cameron.”

“It could have been one of your kinsmen. The question is why? And why were my brothers here

twice? Keira coming here is the only thing I can understand or guess at the reasons for the visit. I

certainly cannae guess what trouble she may have stirred up, for Keira ne’er causes trouble.”

Alana was just about to bang on the door when Matthew appeared, struggling with two large

baskets full of food. He barely missed getting slapped on the backside by the heavy doors, they

were shut so quickly behind him. Gregor relieved Matthew of the burden of one of the baskets, and

her cousin started to lead her and Gregor along a winding path.

“Where are we going, cousin?” Alana asked Matthew.

“To the cottage we keep for guests of the monastery,” replied Brother Matthew. “Is that a cat ye are

carrying about like a bairn?”

“Aye. I call it Charlemagne.”

As they walked Alana explained about the cat and answered all of her cousin’s many questions

about how she had come to be knocking on the gates of the monastery. Although she wanted to

shake Matthew until he told her everything he knew about Keira, she struggled to remain calm and

let him tell her all the news when he was ready. By the time they reached the little cottage he led

them to, however, Alana was gritting her teeth in rising impatience. The fact that Gregor appeared

to find it all highly amusing only added to her rapidly rising temper.

“Come in and sit here,” Matthew said as he set his basket on the table. “We can talk as ye eat.”

“She was here. Right here in this cottage,” Alana whispered, feeling Keira’s presence so strongly

she was surprised she could not see her standing there. “She stayed here and she was afraid of

something. Or someone.”

“Someone,” said Brother Matthew. “Please, Alana, come and sit down and allow me to tell ye what

I can about Keira.”

Ignoring the sudden sharp look Brother Matthew gave him, Gregor put his arm around Alana’s

shoulders and held her close for a moment. “We have found her trail, love. Now let us hear her

story.” He kissed the top of her head when she nodded and then led her over to the table, where her

cousin waited.

“I cannae believe that both ye and Keira have had such adventures,” said Brother Matthew as he

poured some wine into the sturdy wooden goblets he had set out on the table. “By God’s grace, ye

have both survived.”

“I wasnae really hurt, cousin,” Alana said. “I ken weel that Keira was hurt, and badly, so I think.”

“Aye, her injuries were grave ones.”

“Mayhap ye should begin at the beginning,” Gregor said between bites of bread. “All Alana kens is

that her sister’s husband is dead, that Keira was hurt when Ardgleann was taken, and that she has

disappeared.”

“Eat, eat,” Brother Matthew gently urged Alana, “and allow me to tell the tale. When I am done ye

can question me as ye will. Now, an outlaw named Rauf Mowbray murdered Keira’s husband, the

laird of Ardgleann. Rauf and his men took Ardgleann at great cost to its people. Aye, Keira was

badly hurt, for Rauf wished to claim the laird’s wife along with his lands. Your sister sustained her injuries when she fought him.”

“Did he—” Alana began to ask, terrified of the answer even though she felt almost certain her sister

had escaped that fate.

“Nay!” Brother Matthew hastily patted her hand where Alana had clenched it on the table edge.

“She escaped him ere he could commit that sin against her.”

Alana nodded and forced herself to relax. She had been horrified and frightened by the mere

mention of such a crime against her sister. Now that she thought about it more carefully, she knew

what her cousin said was true. If Keira had been raped, she would have known it. Such brutality

could never have been committed against her twin without her having felt something, having been

aware of the pain Keira felt in some way. It did, however, explain the fear she knew had clung to

Keira while she had stayed in this cottage.

“Keira stayed here to heal,” Brother Matthew continued. “At first she stayed in the guest quarters

within the monastery, but I moved her here as soon as she had healed enough to care for herself.”

A quick exchange of a look with Gregor told Alana that he was thinking the same thing she was.

One of the monks had some trouble with that vow of celibacy and had made life difficult for Keira.

Alana said nothing, however, just began to eat and wait for her cousin to continue.

“Keira had a dream about a mon who needed help,” said Brother Matthew. “It was Liam Cameron.”