Highlander Most Wanted (34 page)

She was truly leaving this place.

She could barely contain herself as she waited for the men to mount and give the call to move out.

Such a beautiful day. Symbolic. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. No fog. The morning sun cast a glow over a pink-and-lavender sky. If ever there were a more perfect day to set out and put her past behind her, this was it.

Bowen rode up beside her and reached over to clasp her hand. He squeezed and gave her a smile that warmed her to her toes.

Ahead, Graeme gave the call to move ahead. The gate to the courtyard creaked open and the Montgomery warriors began to file out one by one. Graeme fell into line just ahead of Bowen and Genevieve, and Bowen motioned her forward so that she was between him and Graeme.

From the corner of her eye she saw Taliesan trying to hurry toward the gate, but she was hampered by her heavy limp. Genevieve gave a cry of alarm when Taliesan stumbled, but Brodie was suddenly there to steady her. Then, to Genevieve’s surprise, Brodie scooped her up and strode at a fast clip toward the gate so that Taliesan would be there when Genevieve rode past.

Taliesan’s cheeks were stained with color, but she held her head high and waved bravely despite the tears of grief in her eyes as Genevieve rode past.

Genevieve kissed her fingers and extended them in Taliesan’s direction. Her one true friend—her only friend.

“Safe journey to you,” Taliesan called. “Be happy, Genevieve. Be happy.”

“Farewell,” Genevieve called. Then to Brodie she said in a fierce voice, “Take care of her, Brodie. Look after her well.”

Brodie gave Genevieve a salute and then she was past the gate, following behind the line of Montgomery warriors that extended to the nearby hillside.

When she reached the top of the hill, temptation was too great and she swiveled in the saddle, looking back at the keep in the distance.

For a place she knew to be filled with darkness and pain, it looked much like any other keep. Seemingly harmless. Not a place of such evilness.

“Do not look back, Genevieve,” Bowen said in a quiet voice next to her. “There is nothing for you there.”

“Nay,” she agreed, taking one last glance at the symbol of her imprisonment. “There is naught for me there. I’ll not look back ever again.”

She turned as her horse rode on and she notched her chin up, determined not to give way to the overwhelming sadness eating at her soul.

She knew not what her future held. But she was free of her past. From here onward, her future was what she made it. Bowen had given her something long denied her. A choice. And she was determined not to make foolish choices.

She glanced sideways at Bowen, wondering how much of a role he would play in her future. He acted as though he cared for her, but she knew not if his feelings were driven by pity or something much deeper. He hadn’t spoken of his feelings—or the future—other than to tell her that he was taking her away.

He’d once promised her a place within his clan, as a Montgomery. But what did that mean? Was she to be his leman, as she’d once offered? Or was she to be treated merely as a cousin or sister or clansman and once they were home the passion between them would cool and become a distant memory?

She tried not to dwell on all the what-ifs and unknowns because it would do naught but drive her to madness.

She had to focus on the fact that she was being given a chance to start anew. She was free of the horrifying
abuse that Ian had subjected her to for an entire year. He was dead. Patrick was dead. No one could hurt her anymore. Bowen had sworn that he would protect her from any threat. He was an honorable man, and she took him at his word.

Somehow, someway, she’d find her place in a new clan. And she’d find a way to make it up to Eveline, Graeme’s beloved wife, for the horror she’d put her through. And pray that Eveline could find it in her heart to forgive her.

“How far is it to your lands?” Genevieve asked Bowen.

“ ’Tis a half day’s ride if we go hard. ’Tis more likely we’ll arrive in the late afternoon. I don’t want to overtax you, and there’s no urgency to our return other than Graeme’s wanting to ride to Armstrong Keep to collect his wife.”

“He must love her a lot,” Genevieve said softly.

Bowen smiled, his eyes warming at the mention of his sister by marriage. “Aye, he does. He’s a fool for her and does not mind it one bit. Eveline has him completely wrapped, but to her credit she loves him just as fiercely as he loves her.”

“And she does not hear?”

Bowen shook his head. “Nay, she is deaf. She has the ability to read lips, though, so have a care when speaking around her. She didn’t speak for three long years, but she’s broken her silence and her speech improves the more she practices.”

“She sounds like an amazing lass,” Genevieve said. “ ’Tis no wonder Graeme loves her so.”

“I think the two of you have much in common,” Bowen said quietly. “You’ve both survived difficult circumstances. You’re both strong despite your fragile appearance.”

Only, Eveline Montgomery hadn’t been made a whore.
She hadn’t been forced to spread her legs for Ian McHugh and any other man of his choosing. It was a fact Genevieve could never forget.

Graeme lagged back so that Genevieve and Bowen caught up and rode at his side.

“Up the way, I’m going to part ways and take half my men with me to Armstrong Keep so that I may retrieve Eveline. We’ll arrive at Montgomery Keep on the morrow.”

Bowen nodded.

“I must send word to our king to apprise him of all that has occurred and of the McGrieves’ involvement in the attack against us. I still have not heard from him on the missive I sent regarding the action we took in claiming McHugh Keep and ridding the world of Ian and Patrick.”

Graeme’s gaze fell on Genevieve as he spoke.

“Bowen tells me I have you to thank for killing Patrick. ’Twas your arrow that felled him.”

Genevieve shifted uncomfortably on the horse and ducked her head.

“Aye, ’twas her arrow,” Bowen said proudly. “She felled more than one warrior in the course of battle. She’s proved herself worthy of any soldier in our army.”

“ ’Tis impressive, and you have my thanks,” Graeme said. “Not only for removing Patrick as a threat but for saving my brother during battle. He is important to me, and I’d not have him killed if I can help it.”

Genevieve smiled. “I was happy to do it. I had no wish for Bowen to die, either.”

“You’ll like our clan, Genevieve. I have a feeling our sister, Rorie, will make a fast ally of you. You won’t have a choice, I fear. Rorie tends to do things her own way and she doesn’t take no for an answer. She’ll pester you until she has your entire story.”

A peculiar look crossed Bowen’s face. Sadness dulled
his eyes for the briefest of moments, but before she could ask him about it he shook it off and joined Graeme in teasing about Rorie and her doggedness.

For the next hours, they rode in companionable silence, every once in a while speaking of mundane things. After a time, Graeme called a halt and took half his men and bade Bowen farewell, promising that he and Eveline would be along the next morning.

Bowen and Genevieve continued north with a contingent of Montgomery warriors, while Graeme headed west toward Armstrong land.

With each passing mile, Genevieve grew more nervous as they drew closer to the Montgomery border.

A shout went up in early afternoon as they crossed over onto Montgomery land. An hour later, the keep came into view and Genevieve leaned forward in the saddle, drinking in the sight of the distant fortress.

It was nestled close to the banks of a river and the hillsides were lush and green. A herd of grazing sheep covered one entire hillside, while horses dotted yet another. On either side of the keep were cottages, clean and sturdy, and more within the keep, lining the stone wall that surrounded the main building.

It was obvious the Montgomerys had done plenty to ensure the well-being of their clan. The keep was well fortified. Children played along one side of the keep as mothers kept close watch. Warriors trained within the courtyard walls while others went about their tasks. Women washed clothing in the river while others tended a plot of crops on the front side of the keep stretching as far as the eye could see.

This was a clan of wealth and power. They obviously feared no one, and they protected their own.

She’d been right to set Ian on a path to anger the Montgomerys, no matter how wrong she may have been to involve Eveline. The Montgomerys would suffer no
wrong done to one of their own, and they’d done just as she hoped and come with a vengeance.

Thank God she was free. Thank God she was gone from that terrible place. She stared hard at Montgomery Keep, for now it was her future. She would become one of them, because Genevieve McInnis had died one long year ago.

When Bowen and Genevieve rode into the courtyard of Montgomery Keep, Genevieve’s gaze was drawn to a young lass, who looked remarkably like Bowen, standing on the steps of the keep with what appeared to be a young priest.

The lass had long dark hair and vibrant blue eyes. Just like Bowen’s. She was small in stature, her bone structure delicate and feminine. Yet the lass didn’t look as if she’d reached womanhood yet. There were no curves or softer flesh. She was lanky, which only added to the delicacy of her bone structure.

Even her face was constructed on a small scale, her eyes seemingly too large for such ethereal features.

“ ’Tis my sister, Rorie,” Bowen said, following her gaze. “Beside her is Father Drummond, who is tasked with teaching the little hoyden how to read and write. She’s quite determined on that score.”

Genevieve’s eyes widened. “She must be a smart lass.”

Bowen chuckled. “I don’t know if it’s that she’s smart or that she’s just stubborn. ’Tis likely a bit of both.”

As soon as Bowen reined in his horse, Rorie flew across the courtyard, and when he slid from the saddle she launched herself into his arms.

Bowen hugged her tightly and whirled her around in a circle.

“ ’Tis good to see you, lass,” he said, genuine affection brimming in his eyes.

“I’ve missed you, Bowen! You’ve been gone far too long.”

Bowen set Rorie down and then immediately went to help Genevieve dismount from her horse. He kept hold of her hand and pulled her toward Rorie, whose curious stare fixed boldly on Genevieve.

Genevieve cursed the fact that she’d forgotten to pull out her cape and hood. She felt naked and vulnerable, with no way to hide her hideous scarring. Even now she could feel Rorie’s intent gaze sweeping over her face, and she wanted the earth to open and swallow her up.

“Who have you brought with you, Bowen?” Rorie chirped.

The lass seemed unfazed by Genevieve’s scars, but she was still watching Genevieve intently.

Bowen held out his arm to his sister to pull her in close, so that he held both women in his arms.

“Rorie, this is Genevieve McInnis. She will be staying with us. Genevieve, this is my sister, Rorie. She’s the baby, coming far after Graeme, me, and Teague. She’s quite the brat, so forgive any rudeness that comes from her mouth.”

Rorie huffed and rolled her eyes. “ ’Tis a pleasure to meet you, Genevieve. Eveline will be glad of another friendly face around here. She’s still finding her way around our clan, though things are a bit better now that she got herself abducted and rescued. Fear has a way of mending fences within a clan. But then they were all likely afraid Graeme was going to have all their hides.” She shrugged. “At any rate, the matter is done with.”

Genevieve’s eyes widened at Rorie’s blunt, matter-of-fact manner. Bowen chuckled and shook his head.

“I did warn you, Genevieve.”

Rorie reached forward and grabbed Genevieve’s hand.
“Come. I’ll show you above stairs. There’s only one spare chamber, so it isn’t a mystery where you’ll be staying. ’Tis the room next to mine, so we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. Bowen can ensure your things are brought up.”

Genevieve glanced quickly at Bowen, but he smiled and waved her on. Hesitantly, she allowed Rorie to pull her toward the keep, where Father Drummond was still standing.

“Father, I have someone I want you to meet,” Rorie called out. “This is Genevieve McInnis, and she’ll be staying with us. I’m afraid we’ll have to cancel this afternoon’s lesson. I’m showing Genevieve to her room.”

Father Drummond smiled, and Genevieve was warmed by the welcome in his eyes.

“ ’Tis good to make your acquaintance, Genevieve,” Father Drummond said, his voice soft and kind. “I hope you’ll find your accommodations to your liking, and that you’ll enjoy your stay with the Montgomerys. A finer clan I have not found.”

“I’m discovering that,” Genevieve said quietly.

“Come, Genevieve. Time’s a-wasting,” Rorie said, pulling her toward the inside of the keep.

Genevieve allowed herself to be dragged through the hall and up the stairs to the third level, where a row of chambers lined the hall.

Rorie directed her to one in the middle, but she paused outside a door and put her hand on it. “This is my chamber. Bowen’s is across the hall, and Graeme and Eveline’s is at the very end. Teague has the one on the other side of you. If you ever have need of anything, just knock on my door. I don’t bite. I promise.”