The Highlander's Conquest (24 page)

“How many?”

“Thirteen.”

“Surrey?”

Liam nodded. “He too is among the dead.”

”’Twill be a problem for the Sutherlands.”

“Not if the
Sassenachs
never find the bodies.” Liam’s face was hard and determined. He would protect Blane and all the Sutherlands with his last breath.

Blane glanced over the ground, covered in bodies, all of them enemies. It was over. He’d found his parents
’
killers. Or rather, they’d found him. Had they come to finish the job they’d started? He’d like to think they had, but the cynical side of him thought that most likely they’d killed so many they wouldn’t remember dispatching some miserable youth’s parents and leaving him for dead.
He was surprised by how lifted he felt. He’d expected to feel retribution, not relief. Aliah crowded his mind. She’d made him see there was something to look forward to. A future filled with promise.

“Where is Lady Aliah? Seamus?” Liam asked.

With a heavy
arm, Blane pointed beyond the crofter’s hut
. “I’ve hidden
them.” His lungs burned, making
his voice raspy.
His shoulder felt afire.
He was so overcome with fatigue he was in real danger of falling over.

“I will see
to them.
Ye’d
better tend to your arm.” Liam called out to a couple other warriors who followed him toward the brambles.

His arm?

Blane looked down at his shoulder. His shirt was completely burned away, and his skin was singed in places, burned worse in others. Now that he looked at it, a dull ache pulsed
from one end to the other
. ’Twas worse then he’d thought.
At least he hadn’t sustained any serious injuries during the battle. Other than a few scrapes and bruises, he was fine. Except for the burns. Hobbling toward the
creek
, he knelt—nearly falling—onto his knees and scooped water onto his arm. The pain. It was almost too much for him to take. The water trickled down his arm, and agony fogged his senses. He moaned low in this throat, but continued to clean the wound despite how excruciatingly painful it was.

How had the blaze started?

The fire in the hearth had been banked when he fell asleep, had Aliah stoked it? Not likely.
That meant the fire came from outside
, and none of his men had lit a fire to keep warm. They were Highlanders. They didn’t need a fire to keep
them
warm on a late fall night. That meant only one thing.

Someone else had
started the blaze
.
Damn!

The world started to spin. Blane blinked rapidly, trying to keep focus. He stared at a tree.
Planted his hands on his knees, steadying himself. He focused his vision on
the ridges of bark, the trickle of sap. The sun had started to rise although clouds still covered overhead. A mist rolled over the hilly ground and water. The tree started to move. What the hell?

The damn thing was dancing… Then whipped sideways as though pulled from the ground. It was only when his face smacked into mud that he realized he’d truly collapsed. The world still spun and the mist disoriented him. Blane attempted to push up, but he’d no strength. His throat burned, his lips felt so parched… He could barely breathe.

The world slowly disappeared into a tunnel of black
.

Aliah blinked open her eyes. The sun was out, but not shining. It was gray overhead and an eerie mist covered the ground around her
.

“I wish we’d arrived sooner. Magnus had an idea
ye’d
be arriving soon, but we’d no idea ye had an enemy on your
trail.
Wasna
the Ross Clan was it?
”

Aliah stared with glazed eyes at a handsome warrior who spoke to another man she couldn’t quite see
.
The warrior
was tall, looked sort of like Blane, but not quite. He had the same dark hair, chiseled features, raw strength.

“
Nay, not Ross men
. The
se bastards have
been following us since we crossed the border from England.” Aliah recognized Liam’s voice—even if he’d refused to talk to her
on
the first half of their treacherous journey.

“They’ve not been much of a threat, from what I’ve heard, but Magnus is forever on his guard.
Where is my cousin?”
the warrior said.

“Blane is…” Liam glanced around, his brow furrowed.

There was a long pause, and in that moment, Aliah felt a moment of panic.
Blane was missing.
Her arms were heavy, like she’d been strapped down, and her mouth was so incredibly dry. Who was this man? What happened? Where was Blane?

“I…dinna know. He was going to take care of his shoulder…”

“He was injured?” the
warrior
who claimed to be Blane’s cousin replied.

Aliah opened her mouth to demand information. Blane was hurt! How had he been hurt?

“The bastards set the hut on fire. His shoulder was burned.”

“Where would he have gone?” the cousin asked.

“Probably the
creek
.”

“I’ll go check on him.”

“I’ll come with ye.”

Then there was silence.
Aliah
tried to roll to her side, finding it not entirely unmanageable. Her lungs hurt
and burned
something fierce, and she found each breath
stung
, but other than that,
she didn’t appear to be injured
.

A massive pile of burnt embers huddled where the hut had once stood. She gasped, then coughed at the sudden rush of air
entering
her sensitive lungs.

They’d been inside there asleep. And Seamus! Frosty!

Her dog pounded his tail beside her, panting, as he stood vigil. Another glance behind her s
howed
that Seamus was not far
away
,
but was
sweating profusely. That was a good sign that his fever was breaking.

But where was Blane?

Her heart constricted. She didn’t remember the fire. Didn’t remember escaping. That meant he’d risked his life to save her. He’d carried her from the blaze—and been injured in the process.

Pushing up on her elbows so she could get a better lay of the land, she looked around. There was a pile of bodies near the trees. Half a dozen of Blane’s men worked with makeshift shovels, digging. Who were the
dead
?
From the conversation she’d overheard, they’d been attacked.
The hut had been
set on fire.

Her attention was quickly taken in the direction of the stream as Blane’s cousin and Liam appeared. Blane was draped between the two of them, his arms over both of their
shoulders as they half-carried, half-dragged
him toward her.

One look at his shoulder told her he’d been badly burned. The skin was blackened around the wound and flaming red at the center.
Blisters bubbled around the blackened edges.
The man had suffered much since meeting her—she’d shot him, now he was burned. What next?

Aliah didn’t want to think about that. Using all of her strength, she pushed up to her knees and patted the ground beside her.

“Put him here,” she croaked.

The men listened without complaint. She bent over Blane. His eyes were glazed, but open.

“Aliah,” he whispered, touching her face with his good hand.

“Let me look,” she said softly. “Seems like he’s cleaned it well. Have you any bandages
or salve
?” She glanced up at Liam and Blane’s cousin.

“Aye, we have some left from Seamus.” Liam jogged off to get the supplies.

“I am Laird Daniel Murray,” the cousin said, bowing low. He handed her
a
skin filled with whisky. “Make him drink.”

“Lady Aliah,” she said, tipping the skin to Blane’s mouth. He drank greedily.

“Ah, I’ve heard much of ye.”

Aliah cocked her head to the side, curious. “You have?”

The man was even more handsome now that he
r
eyes had focused. He must make all the ladies swoon. Funny that she didn’t feel like swooning herself. She only had eyes for the fallen man at her side.

“Your sister and your father talk of your arrival nonstop.”

“You’ve seen them?” Hope soared through her. “Is my father well?”

“Perfectly.”

She frowned for a moment. “You’re a laird.”

“Aye.”

“Then why are you patrolling for another laird?”

Laird Murray laughed, a deep and rumbling sound. “Good question, but alas I will answer it for ye. Magnus wanted to patrol himself, but his wife was feeling a wee bit under the weather—
which
worried him much. I was visiting and volunteered to come and see about Blane’s return.”

“Arbella? She’s sick?”

“Aye, but ’tis completely normal, I hear.”

“Normal?” Dear Lord… Were Scottish women always sick? Or just English ones who lived in Scotland?

“Aye.”

Aliah shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

Murray shrugged and before she could ask him to clarify, Liam returned with the bandages
and a small leather pouch filled with a pungent salve Mistress Kerr had provided for Blane’s wounded leg
. Aliah worked to cover Blane’s
new
wound. He hissed and moaned as she did so, but other than that
, he
was a good patient.

“Do you have a healer at Dunrobin?” she asked Liam.

“Aye.”

“When we arrive,
he must see her immediately
.”

Liam nodded then walked away to tend to the men, but Murray stayed. He studied her with keen eyes that made her uncomfortable.

“Ye love him?” he asked.

“What?” The man certainly was blunt.

“Blane, do ye love him?”

Aliah glanced away. “What a perfectly odd thing to ask.”

“Odd? I dinna think so.”

“We’ve only just met.” Her stomach flipped. How had the man seen through her so clearly.

“Aye, but I can see when ye look at him ye feel more than just camaraderie.”

Aliah shook her head and folded her arms over her chest. “You’re mistaken.”

“She loves me,” Blane said weakly, a silly smile on his face.

Aliah huffed a breath and then coughed. “Men,” she murmured.

Chapter
Twenty-Two

B
lane remained quite delirious for the next couple
of
hours, most likely from the amount of whisky his cousin Murray kept pouring into his mout
h
. Aliah rode her
borrowed
mount, while Blane rode with his cousin. She
wanted to tell
Murray to quit with the drink.
But h
e’d only think her a ninny—and then tease her more about her feelings for Blane.

No one was supposed to know how she felt. Least of all Blane. Yet, half-drunk on whisky, he’d
uttered those words
. Sounded a bit like a braggart too. Irritation sliced through her and her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. She
had
waited with baited breath for him to tell everyone what they’d done together too. His lips seemed too loose to her.
Thank the Saints he’d not uttered a word.

Aliah couldn’t exactly blame him. The man was in a lot of pain. Had fought a battle, been badly burned and then nearly drowned with whisky. His face was covered in
smears
of dirt
, ash
and other things she didn’t want to imagine, as was his
linen shirt. The garment needed to be burned
as well
. One sleeve was completely gone and the rest of it looked as though it’d been trod upon by a dozen boars.
His plaid didn’t fare much better.

The weather matched her mood—grey and chilly. Earlier that morning she’d felt quite the opposite. Warm, lively. Ready to take on the world.
To fight for her future. Fear, though, had sunk in. Aliah had to shake it. Had to realize that there was no place for fear in love.
She wasn’t so much scared of love, but of everything unknown to her.
Especially Blane’s opinion on the matter. She knew he felt something for her, she simply wasn’t sure what. Aliah bit her lip, pressing away the disturbing feelings churning in her belly.

They crested a
steep
hill
, the dirt road rising over top, surrounded by trees on both sides. T
he riding party stopped.

“Th
at
is Dunrobin,” Murray said, pointing down into a valley that led straight to
an imposing castle which sat atop an incline overlooking the sea
.
“They are rebuilding the
wooden keep into a stone one.”

Aliah gazed over
the soaring wooden structure,
the various stone towers and
thick stone
walls.
Outbuildings were situated within the walls.
The Sutherlands were obviously a very powerful clan.
Mowbray Manor
could fit inside the walls three times over.

Beyond th
e castle
was the sea.
Her lips parted in awe as she sucked in a breath.
Aliah had never seen the sea. ’Twas magnificent, mesmerizing. The breadth of blue-black water appeared to stretch forever. Dots of white frothy waves coated its expanse.
The grey sky touched down on the water and clouds hovered as if waiting
for
permission to merge with the impressive body.

“Which sea is it?” she asked.

“North Sea.”

Arbella was lucky to wake to such a sight each morning.
Aliah had
thought
she was
fortunate
waking up
to the scents
of apples
and peaches wafting their way through her windows from the orchard behind their manor.
Aliah closed her eyes, breathing in. Her lungs still hurt from
the
fire, and she couldn’t smell the sea—only the scents of nature surrounding her, grass, dry leaves,
cool
wind. Mayhap as they grew closer she’d be able to catch its scent.

The men kicked their horses forward, riding down the ridge. The incline was steeper than Aliah expected
and she held tight to her mount, leaning back a little so she wouldn’t
tumble
right over the top. Thank goodness she didn’t have Mad Maiden with her or she’d be going over for sure. The trees opened up on her right showing where the
loch
fed into
the sea
below the ridge they
now
rod
e
on. How she’d love to edge closer
and
peer over the side, but the party continued forward. Aliah would ask Arbella to show her the sea once she’d had a chance to rest and catch up. Flicking her gaze at Blane, she realized that she’d rather he show her. The way he introduced her to new things was exhilarating and he seemed to take su
ch
pleasure in nature
,
almost like he was seeing it for the first time himself.

She guessed that wi
thin an hour or two she would be able to hug her sister, her father. Would they be able to see through her façade as Murray had? Would they know immediately all that had gone on between her and Blane? He looked better than this morning, even manag
ed
to sit upright.
His eyes were open and he stared toward Dunrobin.

“He is well, my lady. I promise ye that,” Murray said.

Aliah frowned, which only made the laird smirk.
Blane slid his glance toward her, a smile curving his lips, but she could tell from the redness of his eyes he was not completely
sober
.
To
add fuel to the fire, Murray gave Blane the wineskin holding whisky.

“When we arrive at Dunrobin, the healer will take good care of him, and then he can sleep off the half-keg of whisky he’s drowned himself
in
.”

Aliah raised a brow. “I think ’tis rather
you whose been doing the drowning.”

Murray laughed. “I can see why my cousin holds ye in such high regard.”

“Aye, high,” Blane said,
his words sluggish
.

What did he mean by that? Aliah refused to acknowledge his statement, because doing so would only be admitting that she cared about his answer. Which she did… But she wasn’t willing to admit that much to Murray. After Blane was feeling better, they would have to have a serious conversation. One that discussed the future they’d both been avoiding.

Irritation flickered over her again. Why should she have to discuss it with him? Shouldn’t the man know that it was right? He’d nearly said as much… showed her how much he cared. Called her his heart when they’d made love.
Mo
chridhe
. Blane didn’t realize she knew what it meant, that she’d studied Gaelic. But she
was completely aware of his confession
.

Nodding with renewed conviction, Aliah made up her mind. As soon as Blane was well, she would demand he admit his feelings to her.

Sooner than she’d expected
,
they crossed under the gate and into the inner bailey amid shouts of welcome.
The sounds of construction stopped as those who worked on what looked like a stone tower
ceas
ed what they were doing to stare at the newcomers.
Aliah was overwhelmed by the noise and the amount of Highland men and women converging on them. But amid the din of it all, came the shout of her sister and the boom of her father’s voice.

“Aliah!” Arbella rushed toward her, not looking the least bit ill.

Aliah jumped from her horse, lifted her skirts and rushed
to
her sister. They clashed together, hugging so tight
ly
she could barely breathe—which only served to make her sore lungs more so.
Frosty bounded toward Arbella,
breaking
the
sisters up, he leapt up, his large paws
landing on
Arbella’s
shoulders as he licked her face
in a
frenzy. Arbella laughed and hugged the hound
a
s
she struggled to maintain her balance
.

“
Frosty, boy! I can’t believe
you’re
here.” Arbella turned back to her sister. “
You made it safely
.
”
She held Aliah
at arm’s length and search
ed
up and down her form. “Thank God.”

Aliah smirked. “Did you think otherwise?”

Arbella glanced
at
the
large
,
imposing, handsome man
who greeted Blane
.
That had to be Magnus. Their facial resemblance was striking.
“Possibly. But you are well and that is all that matters. I see Blane is injured though.”
For a moment she turned from Aliah, her brow crinkled with concern. Arbella ordered someone to fetch the healer and for Blane to be carried into the castle.
When she turned back to Aliah, gripping her hand in hers, Aliah couldn’t help but stare at her sister with awe.

“You are happy. And comfortable.”
Aliah’s
voice sounded every bit as shocked as she felt.

“Aye. Why wouldn’t I be?” Arbella beamed, glowed even.

“I can think of many reasons, one being that Laird Murray said you were ill.”

A twinkle glimmered in Arbella’s eyes. “I was, am. But,” she leaned in close to whisper excitedly in Aliah’s ear, “I am happy for it! I am to be a mother!”

Aliah gasped, then coughed. “Truly?” She glanced down at Arbella’s belly taking note of a slight swell in her abdomen.
A part of her feared for her sister. Her own mother had died in childbirth, was it possible such a thing could happen to her sister? To herself?

“Don’t look so afraid, Aliah.” Her sister spoke softly, pulled her close. “I will be fine. I am happy.
And safe.”

Aliah swallowed hard, nodded, tried not to let her fears take hold. Arbella’s next words were a wakeup call.

“You know, Aliah, ’tis a gift to bring a child into the world. Not all can, and not all survive. But you of all
people should know it is God’s w
ill. There is no blame here on earth for things that can only be defined by the divine.”

Arbella’s
words
had a profound effect on Aliah
. They didn’t erase her fear, or the blame she clutched to for her
part in her
mother’s passing. Both
Mistress Kerr
and Arbella appeared to be of the same conviction. And it bore further thought.
Acceptance that she was not in control of everything. That she was not to blame for things she had no control over.

Arbella nodded. “But enough chatting
,
here, let me take you to your chamber and get you a nice bath. You’re covered in soot.”

“Aye, there was a fire…” Aliah trailed off, imagining what
a sight she must be
.

“Not before I get a look at her.” The booming voice of their father Baron de Mowbray broke through the crowd. He ambled closer, clasping Aliah in his
bulky
arms. Then he too examined her with scrutiny. “You look well.”

“I am.” Why was everyone surprised to see she’d arrived in one piece? They underestimated her, that was clear.
“And you are not injured…”

“No more than my pride.”
Her father grunted. Looked as though he wanted to ask her a question, but clamped his mouth closed instead.
His gaze followed Blane as he walked on steadier feet than she would have guessed into the keep.
Blane’s gaze met hers and she thought she would melt from the heat of it. Aliah swallowed hard, bit her lip.
His green eyes sizzled, making her want to
sink
into his embrace.