Belonging to a Highlander Read online

  His words hit them hard, and silence stuck for several, lengthily minutes.

  "What!" Catriona exclaimed.

  She had many questions now, not having known about the lands, but her uncle's sudden claim about his brother shocked her.

  The king chuckled. "'Tis expected." He waved a hand dismissively. "Barnaby has no heirs save a handful of scraggly lasses. I do'na ken what he plans to do with the throne if he got it."

  "Tell me what I can do to help," Hugh said.

  "I'll need warriors if you've any left to spare after sending your troops to Wessex. I'll pay them weel for their fealty."

  Hugh nodded. "Agreed, so long as you take those withoot families living here. I would no have them separated against their wishes."

  "Agreed. Now, if you can resolve your problems with Laird McAlison, I think Barnaby can be handled properly." The king clenched a fist before them.

  "Will we have enough men remaining here?" Catriona asked. Below the table, she gripped her fingers tightly. Her worry for Jamie made her sick at her stomach. The whole situation did. She glanced to Gillie, who was much closer now and red-faced. It was apparent the king had not acknowledged him, nor knew who he was. Had he heard the mention of his name? she wondered.

  She supposed that must chafe, what with him being a legitimate connection and her not.

  Hugh looked across at her. "Surely. I commanded quite the force as a mercenary. Yet, now, as a simple laird, I need no army."

  "The arrow," Catriona said as a reminder.

  "What's that?" MacAlpin looked between them.

  "Catriona was tending her garden at the side of the keep just yesterday when a stray arrow was shot and struck a tree nearby. We have no been able to identify the archer or even the fletcher who fashioned the arrow. Could your brother be the culprit?" Hugh asked.

  Ethelstan whistled low, looking between them. "Barnaby would threaten the life of a lady? His own niece. I understand an attack on your nephew Jamie's holdings, but to single out an innocent woman." He shook his head.

  The king's face turned in a thoughtful expression. "Possibly. He may now see Catriona as a threat the same as Jamie, since she has wedded Hugh and these lands bordering his own—though even those holdings shall soon be taken from him—will be passed through her to him. With the force you have amassed, Hugh, Barnaby may see you as a force against him. He could possibly see any of your offspring as a threat as weel."

  Catriona felt the blood drain from her face.

  "'Tis best we keep the news of my brother's treachery from spreading. He has supporters as it is, I do'na wish to see more follow him."

  The king rose from his seat, startling her, and Catriona shakily stood, too, along with Hugh. The king took her hand and brushed her knuckles with a kiss.

  "Try to stay oot of trouble, lass," he said.

  Catriona, despite herself and any apprehension she felt, chuckled at his remark. She bowed deeply. "Aye, uncle. As you wish."

  The king turned to look at Hugh. "Laird McCross, may we meet again under better circumstances."

  Hugh bowed then.

  Catriona frowned. "You won't stay?" Her questions about her dowry jumped back into her thoughts.

  "Nay. Too much danger is posed here. I prefer to keep moving."

  "My lady," Ethelstan said, offering a regal bow before departing from the dais behind King MacAlpin.

  They said their farewells, and soon the king's men along with those escorting the prince closed around him and the Prince of Wessex, the escort quickly spilling into the courtyard. The party vanished from sight, but as soon as those great double doors closed, Catriona shuddered.

  Hugh's hands slipped around her middle, and she turned in his arms with a worried expression.

  "Our marriage puts a bounty on my head, and possibly—" Her hand fluttered to her stomach between their bodies.

  A moment later, she looked up to see the storm brewing in Hugh's eyes as his stare fell to her belly. His hand went there to cover hers.

  "Never fear, lass. I'll protect you, and our child, if there is one."

  She quivered under his touch and reached to wrap her arms around Hugh's neck.

  He sighed as he held her. "We shall survive this."

  She wanted his affirmations to instill infinite surety, but they didn’t.

  "Do you think Barnaby is behind the arrow incident now?" she asked. "As the king seemed to think likely."

  Hugh frowned. "We seemed to have replaced one enemy with another, is what I think. I'll see what I can find oot. In the meantime, this morning has been overly eventful, and you have yet to take a meal."

  Her brow furrowed with her frown, as though he reminded her of something. "You left me abed."

  He ran his palm against her hair. "You looked in need of rest." He bent and kissed her then, a short sweet kiss. He lifted, staring into her eyes. A smile touched his lips, and he smoothed her hair back from her face. Slowly, Hugh kissed her again.

  "I could'na refuse the king, either," he said. "Nor a prince."

  "True," she said on a laugh. Catriona sighed. "I suppose the meal as been cleaned up already and I'll have to wait until midday."

  He shook his head. "I had Gertie prepare a trencher for you. 'Tis waiting in the kitchens." Hugh's presence changed then. He seemed determined and as though his mind had gone elsewhere. "I am off to see to business in the village. My duties should take me most the day, I shall think. While I am there, I shall ask aboot any new persons seen roaming around."

  She blushed at the thought of that. "What business?" she asked.

  He gave her a silencing look, stern and solemn, and then shook his head. "Nothing to trouble your pretty head with, lass." He gave her bottom a pat. "Go find Gertie."

  Catriona gasped, smiled, and jumped all at once. She left him, smiling all the way to the kitchens, but her mood quickly dissolved into annoyance as a certain woman with dark hair caught her eye.

  Rowena's glower was cutting, and if she wasn’t mistaken, the other woman chopped the vegetables a notch harder and quicker than in moments before Catriona's entry.

  Their last conversation had not gone so well, and she had little doubt Rowena would be forgiving just yet. She didn’t wish this kind of discord in her home, and Hugh's keep was now just that, but at present Catriona simply did not have the patience for the other woman's insolence or ire.

  "Gertie," she said.

  "Aye, milady. The trencher is there on the hearth." The older woman lifted a hand gnarled by age to indicate the small, stone cooking hearth to Catriona's right.

  "Much thanks," Catriona said and quickly took the trencher to leave Rowena's presence all the sooner. She caught one last look from the dark-haired beauty before she could make her escape and briefly wondered how Rowena tolerated the presence of Hugh's other former leman if she could not tolerate his wife.

  She turned her back and smirked so Rowena could not see. After last eve, she had no doubts left as to why the other women were so enraged that Hugh had taken a wife and forced them from his bed.

  She retreated to her chambers where she was more than happy to spend most of her day after having such an exuberant night and then the exciting morning that followed.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Hugh brooded the next evening as he dined beside his wife. Despite the pleasantness between them since their lovemaking, a lurking feeling hedged at the corner of his mind, a premonition of something dark about to happen at any moment.

  The king's arrival had been a surprise that threw him completely off track. His purpose for the day had been to find the truth behind the arrow that nearly struck Catriona, but alas, the news the king brought turned his interest in a direction he disliked more than the previous.

  Catriona not only had the McAlison as her enemy, but now an uncle. Could this possibly get any worse? Or was the threat they feared nothing at all, yet? At very least the threat of the Saxons had been erased.

  One incident had occurred since they had bee
n back at his keep, the only incident since her being in his custody. The lack of aught else happening did make one wonder.

  Perhaps his days as a mercenary were coming back to haunt him, either in mind or a threat he had created by his past days of warring had at last followed him home. Could his mind be playing tricks on him and only an errant archer was to blame?

  Hugh mulled the thought over a moment, picking at his meal. The idea held merit, true, though to him that assumption seemed less likely with all that had transpired in the last se’nnight.

  He closed his hand tightly around the goblet as he lifted the brim to his lips and drank. Hugh looked over his cup at the hall beyond, measuring every soul who crossed his line of sight.

  Of course, there were other possibilities he had not even thought of yet.

  Only the obvious came to mind.

  Yet, that whoever had done the deed had stooped so low as to threaten his wife…

  His fist clenched before he absently reached over, took her dainty hand in his own, and gave her fingers a light squeeze.

  "Forgive me, but I must find Malcolm." Hugh came from his seat.

  Her head came up and Catriona lifted a brow at him, but her eyes fell to his trencher where more than half his meal had grown cold. She gave a light shrug and returned her stare to his. "You must go now? 'Tis late."

  Hugh shifted from foot to foot. "He has yet to report back on the arrow."

  Her face fell. "Hugh—"

  He turned to her more fully, squeezing her hand where her fingers rested on the tabletop. "This is no a matter to ignore, even if only a stray arrow is to blame. Your life was threatened. 'Twould be a mistake on my part to ignore what happened withoot finding oot for sure that no lingering threat remains. No when you have such a penchant for causing trouble."

  Catriona narrowed her eyes at that remark. "You may leave this table only if you promise you will let me ootside tomorrow, with Jamie's men guarding me of course."

  Hugh scowled at her. He didn’t like the idea at all. He was about to tell her no, but she spoke again before he could.

  "You have kept me in two full days. Nothing else has happened. I can'na remain a prisoner inside the keep forever."

  Hugh grumbled. "Only for a little while and only if your guards are patrolling around you." He lifted a finger in warning. "Do'na go to the garden, go only as far as the courtyard."

  She rolled her eyes, but nodded nonetheless. "Fine then. Go find Malcolm. Let us hope he has no reported back because there has been nothing to report." She lifted her own goblet to her lips and stared out over the hall as she drank. "My irritability is no because I doubt this threat. I believe you. However, I can'na go on like this. I hate being trapped inside."

  Her grumbling had Hugh smiling lopsidedly at her as he bent to plant a kiss to the top of her head. "I ken your feelings, sweet. As you said, 'tis late. Be in my bed when I return."

  Catriona blushed as she looked up at him with an inviting sparkle to her eyes. "We shall see. If I promise to, will you return all the sooner?"

  Hugh sighed. "Now, lass, that is unfair. How shall I ever concentrate on this matter if you taunt me thusly?"

  His eyes fell to the low cut of her gown, and his fingers itched to touch her.

  "'Twas deliberate," she said, drinking again, but her eyes never left his. She set the ale away and turned more fully toward him. "I believe you promised to teach me certain things in the bedchamber, husband." Her voice turned husky, and her eyes matched the tone.

  Hugh groaned low. How would he ever walk from the hall now with this swelling in his trews?

  "Perhaps tonight..." She trailed off and turned from him, then waved her hand to the side dismissively. Her mien turned cool and nonchalant, teasing. "Go now, find Malcolm." She relaxed back in her seat and lifted her goblet again, the curve of her lips a testament to the smile she endeavored to cover.

  "Och, lass, you do'na ken the trouble you’ve gotten yourself into now." With that, he turned to walk away, glancing at her over his shoulder as he stepped from the dais, then again halfway across the hall, and though she didn't notice, he turned again to steal a look at his beautiful wife before he left through the wide doors.

  Thoughts of returning all the sooner pulsed through his mind.

  ****

  Catriona shook her head as she watched her husband leave the hall and then returned her attention to sating her appetite. A good twenty minutes passed before Catriona was ready to retire to her chamber, but just as she stood to leave, Alaric happened upon her.

  She frowned at him and he at her.

  "Where is the laird?" he asked.

  "You've returned," she said with surprise. "So soon?"

  "We traveled quickly with the handful of men I took. Now, where is your husband?"

  "Looking for Malcolm to discuss the arrow."

  Alaric scowled at her. "An arrow?"

  She waved the remark aside. "I am sure he will tell you aboot it soon enough. Much has happened since you left."

  She cut her eyes at him. He had left deliberately without her notice, and at Hugh's direction. She hadn't forgotten their scheming so she wouldn’t know Hugh had already sent men to look for her friend just so Hugh could get her into his bed.

  "What of Tamsin? Did you find her?" She sounded doubtful even to her own ears.

  "I'm afraid no. Now, lass, I must speak with Hugh. The sooner I do, the sooner we may yet find your friend."

  Catriona was about to point at the doors when a movement over Alaric's shoulder caught her eye. When Rowena's head came into full view, she relaxed a little. The woman was merely doing her duties and cleaning off the table.

  Still, her stare narrowed on the woman who had not so long ago been her husband's leman.

  Catriona did point, but not without removing her eyes from the servant. "He left from the hall, but I do'na ken where he went, only that he was looking for Malcolm. Surely, when he hears of your return he shall come looking for you, and if you look for each other long enough you are bound to find one another."

  Alaric harrumphed and then gave a heavy sigh. "Or go round and round in circles all night. I might as weel stay put and await him here."

  He cast her a quick look as he moved around her to sit in the chair next to the one Hugh had vacated. Alaric took an empty goblet and poured from a pitcher remaining on the table. He took a hearty drink, ignoring Rowena as she stacked Hugh and Catriona's trenchers together and started to take them away.

  Catriona caught a wry look as the woman passed her, but chose to ignore it. Someday, she hoped sooner rather than later, Rowena would find another to warm her bed and she would forget Hugh and her ire.

  "Do as you will, but thank you, Alaric."

  He lifted a brow at her. "Thanks from you comes as a surprise. Should I be wary?"

  She laughed at him, for he was only teasing. The two of them had become well acquainted along the journey as the tasks concerning the captive were usually left up to him. Any confining to be done was Alaric's duty as well as making sure she was still where she was supposed to be after being confined. On more than a few occasions he had to return her to her tent when she escaped, albeit briefly. He usually carted her over his wide shoulder back to the tent and dropped her roughly to the ground before unleashing a tongue-lashing, expounding on how careless she was. He spared no detail in telling her what would happen to her if some of their men found her alone and what they would easily assume her to be.

  Truly, if there was a man whose patience she had tested, it was not Hugh, but Alaric.

  No, that month spent traveling had not been kind nor had they exactly cherished one another's company. Alaric had oft spent time with her playing cards or somehow amusing her while they camped, but the interludes between travels had usually ended in an argument of some kind. She would admit there were moments she had purposefully riled the man out of sheer boredom.

  Alas, he had seen her fed and kept from harm. His actions had been kind gestures, she r
ealized now.

  She smiled at him. He was actually a good man. She had been his chore to take care of, and he had seen to her with more accommodation than many other men would have. "You have done me a great favor in searching oot Tamsin and I truly owe you."

  He lifted a brow and drained the goblet. He didn’t look at her until he had poured himself a second cup. "All right, all right. Stop before you have me blushing."

  Catriona laughed and stood. "Please tell my husband where he can find me when he returns."

  ****

  Hugh reentered the keep later in the night and immediately saw the booted feet propped on the table, the red-bearded highlander fast asleep. A smile curved his lips. He crossed the short space and once there, knocked Alaric's feet from the table with a swipe of his hand.

  Alaric jumped with a start, reaching for a dagger in his boot, but relaxed when he saw Hugh.

  "What have I told you aboot putting your boots on my table?" Hugh asked.

  Alaric snorted then yawned. He yanked out the chair at his side as Hugh crossed to sit, straightening in his own seat and reaching for the pitcher of ale.

  "Tell me, what have you found?" Hugh asked as he sat.

  Alaric shook his head to clear his brain from sleep then pinched his fingers over his eyes. "You'll no like what I have to tell you. Neither shall your lady wife."

  Hugh frowned. "Go on then."

  Alaric leveled his stare. "The McLaren lass has disappeared from the abbey, and none ken where she has gone." He reached for the ale pitcher again and filled his cup, took a swig, and gulped it down.

  "That’s all?"

  Alaric lifted a shoulder and shook his head, then discarded the alehorn to brace his hands on his knees. "The woman there told us the lass was fetched home, but within days of her departure another rider showed up asking for her, also claiming to be from her clan. So, in truth, the abbess does'na ken who took her, though both carried formal letters bearing the seal of the McLaren."

  Hugh ran a hand over his mouth. "Mayhap the first messenger was overtaken, the sealed letter stolen, and the abbess would no have kenned McLaren's men from McAlison's. When his daughter did no surface, 'tis likely the McLaren sent a second mon."