Dreamer (Highland Treasure Trilogy) (30 page)

“Treasure?” The dowager leaned
forward, her face lit with interest. “Now this has the ring of something that
could stir an old woman’s blood.”

“‘Tis very valuable. It has been in
the safekeeping of my family since the time of Crusades to the Holy Land.”

Catherine’s fingers traced the fine
lines of the map as she read over her mother’s message. When she was finished,
she looked up at the dowager.

“Though I’ve never seen it, I know this
is only one of three portions that make up a greater map. When the time is
right, Laura and Adrianne shall also receive their own portions of the map. And if the need arrives--should my mother not survive this terrible time--then the three of us
shall act together and move the treasure to a safer place.”

The dowager’s face was dark with
concern. “It sounds a wee bit complicated, Catherine...and dangerous, too.”

“It must be complicated...to make
finding the treasure impossible for those who are after it.”

“Are they many who know of  it?”

“Aye, Lady Anne. A number of groups
of men know of it and seek it!” Catherine lowered her voice. “We were told
stories as children that those who seek the Treasure of Tiberius were
everywhere--searching the four corners of the world. I believe they could even
be here in the Highlands, and some of these people are ruthless, greedy men who
misunderstand the value of the treasure. For them, no crime is too horrible. No
action is too hateful. In their quest, no life is so sacred that it will not be
snuffed out if that will help them claim their prize!”

The dowager frowned, worry
deepening the lines of her face.

 “There is another group, though,”
Catherine continued, “who have a truer understanding of Tiberius and want it for
their own purpose. Because of who they are, my mother never believed them to be
vicious or violent men. But what their true motives are is unknown to us.”

The older woman reached out and
squeezed her daughter-in-law’s hand with her bony fingers.

“Catherine, however valuable this
treasure is, ‘tis not so valuable that you need to risk your life for it. I
tell you that you won’t be needing anything here. Your husband took you with no
dowry, and he will provide you with all the riches of the world, should you ask
for it. I want you safe and away from this madness. Whatever you need will be
provided, Catherine, and everything I have is yours. Perhaps, if your sisters
require it...”

Catherine placed a hand
affectionately on top of the dowager’s. The old woman’s generosity warmed her
heart, but her concern meant even more.

“I’ve never considered this as
wealth, and I know my sisters do not see it that way, either. We all have been
told, though, that ‘tis our responsibility to keep it safe.” Catherine’s gaze
dropped to the lines and symbols. “It has always been something that we know
would fall to us to keep safe. Why, when my father was imprisoned by the king,
my sisters and I spent a great deal of time establishing a false trail to the
treasure, though ‘tis possible no one will ever follow it. But the Treasure of Tiberius is nothing I would desire for myself. ‘Tis too much for any one
person to possess.”  

“Well, I’m too old and too wise to
ask any more questions. The last thing I want is to find myself any deeper in
your mother’s accursed schemes.” The dowager pushed the chest toward Catherine
and handed her the chain and the key. “So as long as you promise not to run off
without your husband to some mysterious treasure trove, then I’ll try to be
civil and even assist you with whatever you need regarding the school...my
grandchild...”

“And answer some of my questions
regarding Athol and even Adam?”

“You are a bold and obstinate
hussy!”

“I am only a concerned wife. One
who is trying as well to become a devoted daughter.”

The dowager leaned heavily against
the pillows, shooting an exasperated glance at Catherine. “You’ll never give
up, will you, child!”

She gently squeezed one of Lady Anne’s bony hands. “There is too much that is not known, mother-in-law. Somehow, we must end
this war between them, and I believe you--as much as anyone--will be grateful
to have it all behind us.”

The dowager stared down at their
joined hands. “I do not know, Catherine! ‘Tis all so...so frightening!”

Catherine waited until the older woman’s
gaze lifted to her face, and when she spoke, her voice was steady.

“Lady Anne, the only chance we have
of shaping a better world is by knowing the past. This is what I believe and
what I teach. Adam and John must know their past, as well, before they can
fashion their future.”

“She’s left the dowager countess’s
chambers, m’lord.”

“Aye?” Athol said, glancing up
quickly from the letter that had just arrived from court. Once again, a small
company of English forces had moved north, taking a position in the disputed
Scottish borderlands. There was other news, as well. “Where is she now?”

A moment later, dismissing the clan
councilors who were hovering nearby and waving off Tosh, the laird moved out of
the Great Hall and through the courtyard toward the gardens. The sun was warm
on his face, but the clouds to the west foretold of stormy weather ahead. A
wave from the warrior by the gate indicated that Catherine had just passed
through the archway.

Without her being aware of it, he’d
had his men bringing him news of every  move she’d made this morning. He’d
wanted to steal a moment alone with her before leaving again, and now he
hurried after her. The gardens would give him the perfect opportunity.

He wanted to see her before
leaving, but there was something else, as well.  He’d seen the bruise marks on
her wrists this morning, and he wanted to ask her about it. With her news of
the bairn, she’d knocked the thought from his head, but he still wanted to know
why the marks on her wrists looked as though her hands had been tied.

Already well accustomed to the
stubborn nature of his wife, John Stewart knew that his only hope of finding an
answer to this question lay in asking her directly. He’d never be able to force
it out of her.

A number of kitchen workers were
gathering herbs at the far end of the garden, and beyond them Athol could see
two lads from the village driving a half-dozen cows up from the glen. Catherine
was nowhere in sight, however.

Moving toward a small stand of
pines beyond the gardens, Athol caught a glimpse of her, and stopped as Susan
stepped from beneath a pear tree and greeted Catherine with a hug. The warm
embrace that the two women gave each other pleased John at first, but his smile
quickly turned to a frown as suspicion cut sharply into his brain.

Since when had the two women become
friends? he wondered. And why should they be? Frowning at them, he suddenly
wondered what he should do with Susan now that he’d taken Catherine as his
wife. With Catherine as the Countess Balvenie, Susan would certainly not be
needed as mistress of the castle.

Since he was the earl and also
Susan’s cousin, he mused, his appropriate action would probably be to arrange a
good marriage for her. And that he would do, he decided, but not until he and
his high-spirited wife were a wee bit more settled. And he would certainly not
be able to give the plan the time it deserved until his business with Adam of
the Glen was finished...for good.

Unseen, Athol watched as the two
women--who appeared to be talking very seriously about a small wooden box
Catherine was carrying--moved down the slope into the far end of the gardens. A
breeze was blowing and Catherine’s hair, loosely braided down her back, shone
in the bright sunlight. How different these two women were, he thought,
wondering how he’d ever thought them in any way similar. Perhaps it was a good
thing that Catherine would have Susan as a companion.

But then, as he began to think on
this new friendship, he suddenly remembered his own impending departure and his
desire to see and talk to Catherine before he left.

As he stepped into the garden,
Susan was the first to spot him and announced his arrival to Catherine. The
look of sheer pleasure that shone in his wife’s face as she turned toward him
was a reward well worth waiting for. 

Joining the two women, Athol took
one of Catherine’s hands tightly in his own and gathered her into a tight
embrace with an affectionate growl.

“Well, Susan. I--” he stopped,
realizing as he released Catherine that Susan was already well on her way to Balvenie’s gates. “Did I interrupt some master planning session?”

He did not wait for an answer,
though, and trapped her full lips beneath his own. It was still incredible to
him how sweet she tasted...and how easily he found himself distracted at her
nearness and by her loving response to him.

Stepping over to a low,
turf-covered bench, Athol took the small wooden chest out of Catherine’s hand
and put it down. Sitting down, he drew her onto in his lap and laid a hand
protectively on her stomach.

“Tell me, countess. Have I told you
today how happy I am about the news of your bairn?”

Her cheeks turned red with the
prettiest blush. She looked up and he felt the magic of her midnight blue eyes
slide like velvet over his soul.

“Nay, m’lord earl, you said very
little this morning. But ‘twas not very difficult to read your mind.”

“Read my mind?” He frowned
playfully. “I wonder if ‘tis a good thing for a lass as unruly as you to be
running about with that kind of power in your possession.”

“You claim to read my mind, so what
is wrong with my reading yours?”

He ran his thumb over her soft
cheek. “Well, for one thing, most everything what you think or feel eventually
finds its way to your lips, anyway. But with me...”

“I know.”

She placed her hand firmly on his
heart in the same protective way that he had laid his hand on her belly. He
wondered if she could feel the pounding of that heart.

“You, John, like to keep your
feelings hidden deep in your heart. You think ‘tis a weakness to say the things
that you feel--a mistake to let others glimpse the truth of who you are.” She
smiled at him. “Unless ‘tis your temper that takes charge.”

“But then,” he replied quietly,
“you have your own way of dealing with that.”

She sighed softly and leaned against
his chest. “A woman has to find a way to survive.”

He found himself pulling her even
more tightly against his chest. The peace he felt at this moment, the
perfection of the fit between them--together like this--he could not imagine a
greater, more glorious moment in life.

He shook off the feeling. “I have
to leave Balvenie for a short time, lass. But when I...”

“Where?” Catherine pulled back and
looked with concern into his face.

He grinned at her. “I’ve been
coming and going from the first day we wed, and this is the first time you’ve
asked.”

A pretty frown darkened her brow.
“‘Tis more than just for me that I ask. Our bairn would like to know.”

“Liar!” He laughed and kissed her
on the bridge of the nose. He knew that she had given him her heart, but still
she withheld her trust. That was why she had not told him the complete truth of
what occurred last night. But who had he to blame but himself for that, he
thought. Nay, when it came to trust, he would have to set the precedent. Well,
from now on, he would tell her everything.

“I am taking  a few men to the earl
of Huntly’s castle. ‘Tis less than a half day’s ride to the east. I received
word this morning that the earl has arrived there.”

“So you’re not going to hunt Adam?”

“Nay, Catherine. Not exactly.”
Athol gazed out across the glen thoughtfully. “Though we have not ridden into
Huntly’s lands in search of Adam. All his trails have seemed to lead us in
other directions.”

He considered the possibility for a
moment. It was possible that his bastard brother had been hiding in the hills
between here and Huntly Castle all this time. It was one place they had not
looked. And if that were true, what his mother had told him--about knowing Adam
and about Adam knowing these lands--would make perfect sense.

“John, if you are not going in
search of Adam, why must you go?”

“Huntly has sent me news from Stirling, but I have another reason for going now. I think the earl may have some answers
for me.”

“Answers?”

“Aye! Answers to everything. From
the identity of the woman who was my father’s mistress, to where Adam has been
up to now. He may even know the reason for Adam’s decision to wreak havoc on my
lands. But I won’t learn anything sitting here, my dove. So--”

Catherine was not ready to let him
up.

“Perhaps, once you learn his
motives--learn what it was that set him off on such a dangerous path--perhaps then you can negotiate a peace with him.”

“There will be no negotiating with
this devil. The only peace either of us will know will be when his head is
sitting atop a pike above Balvenie’s gates.”

Catherine’s sudden shudder made him
regret his harsh words. Despite all her courage, she was still an expectant
mother. She deserved a wee bit more gentleness.

“I worry about you,” she whispered
softly. “About this whole business of two brothers who can hate without knowing
one another.”

“I do not hate him, lass, but he’s
brought the fight to my door, and he must pay for the harm he’s done.”

“Aye, John, but just think of it!
If things were different, if you two were not at odds, think how pleasurable it
could be to have a brother. You and he share your father’s blood!”

He turned his gaze from Catherine’s
face to hide his own emotions. It was difficult to admit that she spoke the
truth. In reality, he knew that if he truly set his mind to it, he could catch
Adam of the Glen. Instead though, since learning of their kinship through his
mother, he’d chosen to chase after answers--to try to discover the reasons
behind his bastard brother’s actions.