Читать книгу Highlanders Collection - Бренда Джойс, Ann Lethbridge - Страница 23

The next morning, Bram lifted the heavy claymore with both hands, swinging the sword in a wide arc. The blade glinted in the morning sun and he faced off against Ross, trying to lose himself in the training. Though he’d grown stronger in the past few weeks, it wasn’t fast enough to suit him.

His blade met Ross’s shield; no longer did he feel the weakness of his early days. The weight of the weapon was balanced in his hands, the punishing pace welcome.

There was still no word from the messengers Alex had sent. They were no closer to learning the whereabouts of Callum, and Bram’s impatience had reached the edge of reason. He wanted to be among the men searching.

But after the disastrous fight at Cairnross, he knew that his time was better spent here, preparing for the next English garrison he might face. The unnerving silence from Cairnross made him all the more suspicious.

He swung the claymore again and the metal struck hard against Ross’s shield.

‘You’re improving,’ the older man commented. ‘But you’re too stiff, lad. Relax your movements. Move with the claymore and let it become a part of you.’

Bram tried to loosen his stance, but the tension was what kept his grip firm upon the iron weapon. As he trained, he kept his control tight, his movements focused upon precision.

Perspiration slid over his forehead, but he never wavered in his attack. The minutes slipped by and he answered Ross’s own blows by lifting his claymore with both hands. His mind began to drift, and when he saw his wife walking past the training field his thoughts wandered just long enough for Ross’s blade to slice into his forearm.

The pain was swift, the blood rising up upon his skin. Nairna rushed over to him, but Bram hardly heard her words of concern, or Ross’s curse about his lack of attention. He stared at the redness flowing over his arm, and he set the claymore aside.

He removed his tunic and swabbed at the blood, forcing himself to walk to the edge of the loch.

‘Bram.’ Nairna caught up to him, her gaze focused upon his arm. ‘Are you all right?’

He gave a nod, never ceasing his stride. The blood flow had already slowed, and though it might take a few days to heal, it was nothing serious. ‘It’s fine.’

It irritated him that he’d let his concentration slip. Though his fighting had improved, he wasn’t satisfied yet. He needed to be ready for the fight against the English, as soon as Callum was found.

‘Do you need me to stitch the cut for you?’ Nairna asked.

‘No. It’s shallow.’ He knelt before the stream, bathing his arm in the wetness and washing away the blood. The morning sun warmed his skin; too late he realised he’d bared his back to Nairna.

Her fingers moved across the scars and she spoke not a word. With infinite gentleness, she traced the years of his past, as if she could smooth away the mark of his imprisonment.

He didn’t want her touching that part of him. Rising to his feet, he hid his scarred back and kept the tunic pressed to his wound.

When he regarded her, he saw the blush rise upon her cheeks. Her deep brown hair was working its way free of the braid she’d woven, and the strands framed her face. He wanted to kiss her, to pull her body close and fill her with himself.

‘We’ll finish the house today,’ he told her. ‘I’m going back to the ridge.’

‘I’ll come and help,’ she offered. Her gaze centred upon his wounded arm. ‘Are you truly all right, or are you just saying that?’

‘I’ve experienced worse,’ was all he would tell her.

She lowered her chin and took a step closer to him. ‘Some day, I hope you’ll trust me enough to tell me about it.’

He didn’t intend to. What good would talking about his imprisonment do? Dwelling upon it wouldn’t change what had happened. It was over and finished. No need to reopen the past.

Behind Nairna, he spied the dog he’d given her. The animal was seated, calmly waiting for his mistress. For a long moment, Nairna waited, as if to see whether or not Bram would change his mind.

‘There’s something else I want to ask you,’ she ventured. ‘I’ve some goods that I … want to sell to the parish of Inveriston, not five miles from here. I would like to journey there with an escort. I could be back by nightfall.’

She bit her lip, as though she were hiding something. Whether or not she was telling the entire truth, he didn’t know, but he didn’t want her going anywhere, not with the English threat. ‘We’ve no need for the money right now, Nairna. I’d rather you stayed here.’

‘Dougal could escort me,’ she said. ‘He did well enough when we went to Locharr.’

‘I don’t want you leaving Glen Arrin,’ he said. ‘Not yet.’

She reached for his hand. ‘I could find someone else to go in my stead. It would mean a great deal of money for us.’

‘Why is it so important to you?’

She met his gaze squarely. ‘Because money gives us power. And if we’re to face the English again, we shouldn’t be struggling at every turn. I’ve had a look at the accounts and there are ways we could improve—’

‘Don’t.’ He cut off her arguments, soothing the harsh tone by kissing her. ‘Alex is the chief. The funds of Glen Arrin are nothing for you to worry about.’

‘But they are,’ she insisted. He was about to cut her off again, but there was anger flashing in her eyes. ‘You don’t understand. I’m not skilled at weaving or spinning. This is the only thing I can do.’

He stared at her, unable to think of an appropriate answer. It didn’t matter, for she hadn’t finished speaking.

‘When we were parted, and even when I was married to Iver, I learned how to take coins and earn more. I learned where to save, how to bargain.’ Her face held an energy he hadn’t seen before. ‘I can do the same here.’

He didn’t speak, but studied her, wondering why this meant so much to her. His gaze fell upon her ragged woollen gown and he asked quietly, ‘You take care of others, I know. But when was the last time you bought something for yourself? A new gown or a ribbon?’

Confusion lined her face and she shook her head. ‘Why would I need that? It’s more important for our clan to have enough food to eat and supplies for the winter.’

‘And clothes to wear?’ he ventured, touching her gown. With a finger, he revealed one of the holes in the garment.

She stepped away from him. ‘Don’t, Bram. I’m fine the way I am.’

‘Why would your needs be any less than anyone else’s?’ he demanded. ‘You’re my wife, not a beggar.’

She said nothing, as if she didn’t quite believe she deserved more.

‘You don’t need to prove your worth, Nairna,’ he continued. ‘And you needn’t sell your belongings, just to earn coins for our clan.’

She folded her hands, the guilty look returning. ‘That wasn’t what I wanted to sell. And it’s not for me. It’s for Laren.’

He stopped walking with her, resting one hand against a birch tree. ‘Why would you want to sell something for Laren?’

She glanced around and admitted, ‘Because she doesn’t want Alex to know. It’s something she’s made, not anything that belongs to the chief,’ she clarified. ‘And I’ve promised to keep her secret.’

Bram didn’t like the turn this conversation was taking. ‘Nairna, no. You won’t be involved in this.’

‘She needs help,’ his wife insisted. ‘And I believe in her talent, even if Alex doesn’t.’ She sat down upon a fallen log, drawing her knees up.

The sadness in her voice tightened his chest. ‘She should trust him,’ Bram said. ‘Alex wouldn’t turn his back on her.’

‘Look at them, Bram. He doesn’t love her and he certainly doesn’t care what she does. Why do you think she avoids the keep every day?’

He drew Nairna to her feet. ‘What does it matter whether he loves her or not? He takes care of her and provides for their children.’

She lifted her eyes to his, and in them he saw a tiredness he hadn’t noticed before. ‘I don’t want to be like them, Bram.’

‘What is it you want, Nairna?’ His voice held a hard edge to it and she flinched as if he’d struck her.

‘I want to love you,’ she whispered.

‘Don’t,’ he warned. ‘If you knew the things I’ve done—’

‘You won’t tell me.’ She rested her forehead against his cheek. ‘And I know it’s tearing you apart inside.’

His hands moved to pull her away from him. A coldness settled into his skin, but she pressed again. ‘What happened, Bram?’

He moved towards their house, staring at the hills surrounding them. For a long time, he said nothing, wondering if he should admit the truth.

But God above, she wanted to love him. He needed her to understand that he wasn’t the man she believed he was.

‘All summer I watched the guards, learning their habits,’ he began, not meeting her eyes. ‘What time they ate, what time they slept. I kept my head down and tried not to be noticed.’

She was listening intently, with far too much compassion on her face. Bram forced himself to tell her the rest, for he owed her the truth. He’d made an unforgivable choice. And it haunted him still.

‘One night, after we’d been building a wall, I let myself fall to the ground. One of the guards came to see what had happened and I smashed a stone into his face. Then I ran to the opening we’d created.’

He rubbed at his eyes, but continued on. ‘I shouted to Callum, ordering him to join me. But two of the other guards grabbed him. They held him and threatened to kill him.’

Nairna came up beside him and took his hand. She squeezed his fingers, as if trying to obliterate his guilt.

‘I chose my life over Callum’s,’ he admitted. ‘I ran when they could have slit his throat.’

‘But they didn’t.’ Nairna leaned against him. ‘Marguerite said he’s still alive.’

‘A thousand times I’ve wondered if I made the right decision. I left him there and swore I’d return for him. I risked his life on that. I didn’t know if they would carry out their threat or not, but if I didn’t leave, we were both dead.

‘They let him go, because they had to chase after me.’ He expelled a breath. ‘I ran for the next two days, until I came to Ballaloch.’

When he’d finished, he expected her to pull away. He expected to see disappointment or revulsion in her eyes at his cowardice. Instead, she told him, ‘It’s not your fault. And I know you’re going to free him.’

He stared at her. ‘I can’t forgive myself for abandoning him.’ With his hand, he traced the soft skin of her neck. ‘I have to find him, Nairna.’

He let her go, not wanting her pity. Nor did he want to know what she thought of him now.

‘Are you certain about this?’ Laren asked. She held on to the leather-wrapped glass oval as though it were her firstborn child. ‘I don’t think they’ll want it.’

‘They’re building a new kirk in Inveriston,’ Nairna reassured her. ‘Your glass windows will be the envy of every priest in the Highlands.’

‘And what if it’s not good enough?’ Laren looked dismayed when Nairna gently took the glass from her.

‘Your glass will inspire the monks,’ Lady Marguerite insisted. ‘It deserves to be part of the abbey.’

Although Laren still appeared unconvinced, Nairna hid the leather package within her cloak and went to where Dougal was waiting.

‘Can you be back by nightfall?’ she demanded.

‘Easily.’ The young man looked irritated that she’d even asked such a question. ‘It’s not that far to the parish.’

Nairna passed him the wrapped window, hoping that her plan would work. ‘Demand seventy pennies, and when he offers twenty, take the glass and start to ride away. He’ll come up in his offer after that.’ She drilled into Dougal the right asking price, inwardly praying that he wouldn’t come home with the wrong amount.

‘I’ll bring it back,’ he promised.

‘If I can rely on you, you can have the foal that my mare Anteria is carrying, after it’s born.’

Dougal brightened and she suspected he would move the sky above them in order to sell the glass. ‘By nightfall,’ he repeated.

‘Don’t let it break,’ Laren pleaded. And when he’d gone, she looked as if she wanted to chase after him and snatch it back. ‘It will be all right, won’t it?’

‘The abbot will want more after he’s seen this one,’ Nairna predicted. ‘Can you make them?’

‘Of course.’

Laren’s shoulders lowered and Nairna stopped to link arms. ‘Don’t be afraid. You have talent and I believe in you.’

The woman offered a faint smile, though she still appeared nervous. ‘I hope he gets a good price for it.’

Marguerite took Laren’s other arm in a show of support. ‘He will.’

The house was now finished, and Bram stood back to look at it. Though it was well after dark, the men had lit torches, working together until the last segment of thatch covered the roof.

Tonight he would sleep beneath his own roof, with his wife. He’d even constructed a bed frame for Nairna and Alex had arranged for the mattress to be brought from the grain hut.

She might not want to be anywhere near him, after what he’d confessed about Callum. When he stared at the bed, he half-wondered if he’d be sleeping on the floor.

The slight noise of women approaching made him turn. Bram saw Laren and her daughters, along with Lady Marguerite and Nairna. When his wife drew closer, he stilled at the sight of her.

She wore a kirtle and matching surcoat of green silk embroidered with pearls. Her dark hair was braided back from her face, with a few long strands covering her shoulders. A small embroidered cap covered her hair with a trailing veil. The gown was one he’d never seen before—it clung to her body, outlining every curve. Her breasts filled up the fabric, and he could see the plump outline of them within the silk.

She was wearing one of Lady Marguerite’s gowns; he was sure of it. And though it pleased him that she’d made an effort to cast aside one of the shapeless, grey gowns she usually wore, it bothered him that she didn’t have a gown of her own of that quality.

‘Nairna,’ he greeted her.

She moved towards him slowly, with her dog trailing her. In her hands she held a drinking horn. Her lips parted and her green eyes were soft in the firelit torches. Bram tried to take the horn from her, but she refused to let go. Instead, she opened it for him, lifting it to his mouth as she offered him a drink.

The ale was cool, as if it had been kept underground. After the day’s hard labour, nothing could have tasted sweeter. She let him drink his fill; when he’d had enough, she took the horn away.

‘Do you like your house?’ he asked.

She nodded, raising her eyes to look at the new structure. ‘I’m glad they were able to finish it tonight.’ Then she sent him a slight smile, before leaving him to stare at the sway of her hips as she returned to the others.

The way she spoke made him wonder if she had plans for this night. His thoughts filled up with ideas of everything he wanted to do to his wife beneath their own roof. The memory of the taste of her skin, the soft sighs she made when he touched her, was enough to send his desire raging.

The women opened up the bundles of food to share, but Nairna didn’t join him. Instead, she stood at a distance, watching him from the shadows. He ate the venison stew that was passed around; although it tasted delicious, his attention was centred upon Nairna.

She moved among the others, thanking each of the men for their labour on the house. A few of them sent her smiles that were a little too friendly, and Bram stood up, joining her. He shadowed her, letting the other MacKinlochs know that Nairna was his. Possessive, aye, but they didn’t need to be staring at his wife.

‘What are you doing, Bram?’ she asked, after she’d spoken to the last person.

‘Protecting you.’

She raised an eyebrow at him, but he took her hand anyway. ‘I hardly think that’s necessary.’

‘They’re going to leave us,’ he said darkly. ‘As soon as they’ve finished eating.’

Nairna gave a faint shrug. ‘Did you see Dougal among the others?’ Though she kept her tone casual, he caught a note of worry in her voice.

‘No.’ Bram had been so busy with the building, he hadn’t really thought about Dougal. But his brother should have been there. ‘And why would you be so concerned about him?’

‘No reason.’ She shrugged, but her eyes were searching. They settled upon Laren, who also looked uneasy.

They were hiding something, and he didn’t like secrets being kept from him. ‘Nairna, what is this about? Where is my brother?’

Nairna sat down upon a tree stump, beckoning for her dog Caen to approach. The animal trotted forwards, settling at her feet like a faithful shadow. Bram recognised it as the distraction it was meant to be. He covered her hand with his own, upon the dog’s head.

‘Nairna, tell me.’ It was a demand, not a request.

‘He—he went to Inveriston.’ She scratched Caen’s ears, and the dog rolled onto his back, licking at her hand. ‘Several hours ago.’

‘Alone?’

She nodded, clutching her hands together. ‘He said he could be there within an hour. He knew where it was and promised to be back by nightfall.’

Bram released a stream of expletives. What in the name of God had she been thinking?

‘He’s four and ten, Nairna. Not a man. And he’s certainly not old enough to go anywhere alone.’ Bram stood up, his fury threatening to spill over. By God, he wasn’t about to lose another brother to the English. Not because of any foolish attempt to earn money.

Nairna caught up and tugged at his sleeve, ‘Bram, wait. He might have been delayed. There’s no reason to think that he’s not all right.’

‘There are dozens of English soldiers patrolling the lands only a few miles from here,’ Bram shot back. ‘Any number of them would be glad to have a MacKinloch hostage.’ He couldn’t believe she’d done this. His brother wasn’t a damned merchant.

When he reached Alex, he let out a terse order. ‘Come with me. We’re going to find Dougal.’

Alex’s attention snapped to Nairna. ‘What’s happened?’

Bram tilted his head towards Laren. ‘Ask your wife.’

Nairna and Laren exchanged glances and Laren was the one who paled, keeping her eyes averted from Alex.

‘Where is Dougal?’ Alex demanded.

Laren eyed Nairna with desperation, but finally answered, ‘He went to Inveriston to sell some things that Nairna and I gave him.’

‘What sort of things?’ The chief stared at the pair of women and Bram recognised the concealed anger in his expression.

‘Some … things we made,’ Nairna answered. She looked at Bram, her eyes wild with pleading. She didn’t want him to tell Alex anything. ‘This is my fault. I apologise for putting Dougal in danger. I didn’t think anything could happen near the parish kirk.’

Alex’s chin snapped up. ‘Do you think he’s been taken?’

Bram shook his head. ‘I don’t know. But we need to search for him now, before anyone else finds him.’ The two stood up, then Alex gave the order for a search party to form. The men gathered weapons and torches and Bram was just about to leave when he cast a look back at Nairna.

Her cheeks were pale, her eyes filled with regret. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly. ‘I thought we could earn a ransom for Callum with the things we sold.’

He supposed she hadn’t thought of all the consequences. But her naïvety might cost them his brother’s life. Without another word, he turned his back on her and left.