A Fire Within (These Highland Hills, Book 3) (24 page)

"Ye shouldn't be squandering yer strength on the likes of me,"
she said, her voice tear-choked. "I don't want or need yer pity."

"And when, since the very first instant I laid eyes on ye, have
I ever led ye to believe I pitied ye?" Dar asked, taking her hand
in his. "Mayhap I had a time or two of quaking in my cuarans,
when ye went into one of yer especial rages, but never have I felt
even one moment of pity for ye."

"Then why are ye here? Ye owe me naught."

"On the contrary, lass." Dar lifted her hand to his lips, kissed
it tenderly, then lowered it back to its place between them. "I
owe ye everything. Ye saved my life, twice now. Ye've been loyal
and true, and bear far more confidence in me than I've ever had
for myself. Atop it all, in yer kindness of heart ye even wish to
come to the aid of my clan."

"B-but that's all it is then? A simple case of gratitude?"

Her voice broke, and Dar could tell she was crying. Something
within him shattered. He could deal with Caitlin's anger, indeed,
most times even reveled in it. But he hadn't the wherewithal to
shield his heart from her pain.

"Och, lass, lass," he crooned, taking her in his arms. "It's far
more than mere gratitude that I feel for ye. But there's no hope
for us. None whatsoever. So let it go at that, I beg of ye. Don't
make it any harder than it already is."

Caitlin laid her head on his chest, her arms slipping up to encircle his neck. And she began to weep with great, body-wracking
sobs that all but tore open his heart.

Yet, all the while they remained like that, clutching each other
there on the window seat, she never once protested that his claims
were misguided or untrue. And that, more than anything, told
Dar all he needed to know.

Still cradled in Dar's arms, Caitlin awoke some time later to
the sound of voices in the corridor, then the creak of iron hinges
as the door swung open. She straightened from her slumped
position and shook him.

"Dar," she said softly. "They've come for ye."

As if from long practice in dangerous situations, he jerked
immediately awake. For an instant, he seemed bemused by their
position, each so close to the other. Then he quickly disengaged
his clasp about Caitlin and scooted away.

"My thanks," he mumbled, his voice still groggy from sleep.
"I was caught unawares."

"Aye, and likely because ye were on the verge of exhaustion,
not to mention yer recent-"

He put a finger to her lips to silence her. "No more of that,
lass. The less they know, the better for the both of us."

She nodded. Dar withdrew his finger and shoved off the stone
seat.

Feandan MacNaghten, followed by Kenneth, entered the room.
Caitlin watched as Dar hobbled stiffly over to join them.

"Ye don't seem to have weathered yet wee nap all that well,"
his uncle observed, a concerned look in his eyes.

"A stone seat doesn't lend itself to sweet dreams."

"Not even," Kenneth cut in snidely, "with a soft lass like Caitlin
to lie against?"

"Rather," Caitlin said as she rose and hurriedly walked over to
them, "Dar most gallantly offered to provide himself as padding
from the hard, cold walls while I dozed off. And I'd wager that sort of discomfort would cause anyone at first to move with a
bit more difficulty."

"My mistake, m'lady," the bard replied, even as his mischievous
smirk belied his true thoughts on the matter.

"Did Athe send ye?" Dar asked, his irritation apparent.

His uncle nodded. "Aye. It's time we depart. And he said to
bring Caitlin down with us."

For once, Dar didn't appear to be unduly concerned by that
request. He turned, offered her his hand.

"Come, lass. Let's see what my brother next has on his mind."
She placed her hand in his. "It won't matter what ye desire, ye
know. I'll be coming with ye on the journey."

He scowled, opened his mouth to most likely contradict her
pronouncement, then thought better of it. Instead, he gestured
to his uncle.

"Lead on."

The trek through Dundarave's corridors back to the turnpike
stairs was a silent affair. The closer they drew to the entry area,
however, the faster Caitlin's heart began to beat. She struggled
to hold on to her belief that God wouldn't separate them. With
each step they took, however, she feared it might be their last
together.

What had once seemed the thing to do, because it was the
Lord's will, had gradually taken on a stronger and stronger personal need to see it fulfilled. Now, Caitlin feared that if God
should suddenly decide it was better for her to separate from Dar,
she wouldn't be able to do so. Misery welled within her, pressing
hard against her heart.

Grant me wisdom and strength, Lord, she prayed. Wisdom to
recognize Yer will, whatever it may be, and strength to carry it out,
no matter how difcult it may seem. Andgrant Dar the same, for
whatever lies ahead.

Athe, surrounded by the rest of the men, awaited them in the entry. When he first caught sight of his brother, his expression
went flinty hard. He was still nursing the humiliation of having
to back down to Dar, Caitlin realized. And the humiliation had
congealed into a festering abscess of unrequited rancor that could
only be lanced with revenge.

A presentiment rippled through her. Sooner or later, the two
brothers would again come to blows, and only one would walk
away with his life. She looked to Dar to see if he had caught the
seething glare Athe had sent him, but it was impossible to tell.
Dar wore an expressionless mask.

At the foot of the staircase, Dar halted and turned to her.
"Stay here with Kenneth. The less contact ye have with Athe,
the better."

It wasn't a request. Caitlin knew better, though, than to waste
time disputing his lack of social graces. She nodded and moved
to the side with the bard.

Along with his uncle, Dar then strode up to confront his
brother. "Feandan said ye wished to depart."

"Aye. It's half past midnight. Likely Campbell and his men are
fast asleep and have no desire to venture out in this storm."

"If it's all the same with ye," Dar said, "I'll see to securing
Caitlin somewhere for the rest of the night. And I'll make certain
she can't escape her bonds."

A slight smile lifted one corner of Athe's mouth. "I'm certain
ye're quite to be trusted in such a task. However, yet efforts won't
be needed. The lass is coming with us."

Even from several yards away, Caitlin heard Athe's announcement. Her heart gave a great leap.

Thank ye, Lord.

From the sudden rigidity of Dar's shoulders, she was also quick
to note his decided lack of enthusiasm for his brother's plan.
Don't do aught foolish, Dar, she silently pleaded. Ye'll drain what remaining strength ye have and, from the look on Athe's face, it'll
still be for naught.

"Why this sudden change in plans?" Dar asked, his hands
fisting at his sides. "No purpose is served dragging Caitlin over
hill and dale. We'll have more than sufficient time to make our
escape, before the Campbell realizes on the morrow that we're
gone.

"Likely ye're correct, little brother." Athe's shoulders lifted in
a negligent shrug. "But the lives of our men are too valuable,
just yet to risk losing the advantage of her as hostage. So, we've
come to a consensus, all of us have, and the lass will remain with
us for a time longer."

Dar turned to his uncle. "Is that true? Did ye, as well, agree
to this ill-conceived plan?"

The older man hesitated, then nodded. "I saw no harm in
it. The lass is strong and healthy. A wee trek through the hills
won't hurt her."

"Nay, it won't. But it'll bring her brother down even hotter
and faster on our tails, it will!"

"Mayhap," Feandan conceded reluctantly, "but it's been decided, and there's naught served wasting more time arguing over
what ye cannot change. Ye can continue, however, to serve as her
guard until we deem it time to set her free."

"Unless ye've finally had yet fill of the lass, of course," Athe
volunteered with malicious glee. "Ye were alone up in the library
for the past four hours, after all. So, if ye're no longer interested ..."

"Rather, I should've used the time to spirit her away through
the tunnel," Dar muttered, "back to her brother."

"Aye, ye could've done so, I suppose. But ye're too loyal for
that, aren't ye, little brother? Just as ye also lacked the stomach,
didn't ye, to risk what Campbell might've done to us, once he
had his sister back?"

Athe made a great show of pretending to study him consideringly. "Or mayhap ye did think on it. Play the hero, I mean, and
inveigle yerself into the Campbell's good graces by returning his
sister all on yer own? Who knows? He might've been so grateful
to ye that, with his help, ye might've won a royal pardon for yer
efforts."

The other men in the room began to murmur amongst themselves and send Caitlin angry glances. More concerned for Dar
than for herself, an impulse rose to stride over and remind Athe,
and all the rest of them, what Dar had already risked in their
cause. But caution made her hesitate. To rush too eagerly to his
defense might well be more detriment than advantage for Dar.

"If I'd chosen to take Caitlin back," Dar said just then, "it
would've been solely to protect her from ye, Brother. Until just
now, though, I had no reason to expect not to be leaving her
behind this night. I but spoke a moment ago out of frustration
and concern for her continued welfare."

"Of course ye did." With an arched brow and mocking smile,
Athe looked around at the men.

"Enough, Athe!" Like a knife, Feandan MacNaghten's aggravated voice slashed through the rising tension. "Ye already said
Dar was as loyal as they came, and that's the end of it. Now, are
we going to be on our way before it's morn, or not?"

The red-haired man shot his uncle a seething glance, then
nodded. "Aye, best we are and do so posthaste."

He glanced once more to Dar. "Just be sure to keep a good hold
on the lass. If she somehow manages to escape on the journey, it
won't go well with ye."

"Somehow," Dar muttered, his expression hooded as he turned
to gaze over his shoulder at Caitlin, who couldn't quite hide the
joy in her eyes, "I'm rather certain that won't be a problem. Nay,
not a problem at all."

To Dar's surprise, Goraidh chose to continue on with them.
Once through the hidden passage, while the others headed out
on foot, the hermit mounted his mule and Caitlin was given the
gelding. Dar seized the excuse of needing to remain close by her
to contain any attempts at escape, and was soon grateful for the
lessened strain that riding the horse provided him.

Even with Caitlin seated behind him, her arms securely clasped
about his waist, her body offering additional support, he soon
found the exertion wearying. As the hours passed in their trek
through soggy forest, then water-logged meadows and glens, if
not for the horse, Dar knew he would have quickly fallen behind.
And his brother would have just as quickly discovered his secret
weakness.

As it was, Athe didn't call a halt for a few hours' rest any too
soon. It took all of Dar's remaining strength to dismount without blatantly falling off the big animal. Caitlin made a show of
pretending to be so saddle sore she needed his help walking over
to a tree when, all the while, she was doing more to aid him than
he was her.

"My thanks," Dar said softly as he finally lowered himself
beside her to lean against the broad base of an ancient oak. "I don't know how much longer I would've lasted." He sighed and
closed his eyes.

"Aye, best ye rest while ye can," she murmured. "It looks like
they're preparing a midday meal. I'll fetch ye something to eat
and drink."

"I don't have much of an appetite-"

"But ye'11 force it down nonetheless," she cut him off firmly.
"Won't ye?"

Dar cracked open one eye. "Aye, m'lady."

With a disgusted toss of her head, Caitlin turned and headed
to where the others were breaking open the parcels of food. No
sooner had she departed, though, than Kenneth ambled over and
plopped down next to Dar.

"Aye, Cousin?" Dar asked, sending him a sidelong glance.
"Ye've something ye wish to say to me, do ye?"

"Have a care with yet brother." The bard settled back against
the tree. "I've never seen him so edgy before, like the least little
thing would set him off. Set him off into a killing rage."

"Like mayhap the sort he surely went into that night at the
MacNabs?"

Kenneth nodded. "Aye, exactly so." He hesitated, glancing
covertly around as if attempting to ascertain that no one was
within earshot. "Ye worry him, ye do. I fear it wouldn't take much
provocation on yer part to bring on yet another battle."

Dar frowned. "Worry him? Why? Because I won't ever let him
near Caitlin again?"