Highland Flame (Highland Brides) (40 page)

"Are ye sure?" His words were as soft as a caress against her face.

She tried to nod, but instead her lips parted and her soul prayed he would kiss her.

Roderic smiled and drew back. "’Tis a wee bit late for me to return it after all the trouble I went to."

"Return what?"

Against her every desire, he rose. "Come in, lad,” he said and from the hallway, quiet footsteps tread, preceded by a frail form and gaunt countenance.

"My lady."

"Haydan?" Flame gasped. She couldn't believe her eyes, yet Haydan stood in the doorway, looking small, frail, and very weary.

"You are sick," he said, hurrying across the room, his pale face whiter than usual as he dropped to his knees beside her bed.

"’Tis nothing," Flame assured him. "No more than an inconvenience."

"You did not tell me," Haydan said, sounding angry and lifting his gaze to meet Roderic's.

"I did not wish to worry ye, young Hawk... for I know how ye love her."

The silence was heavy and long. Flame's heart hammered against her ribs as she watched Roderic's face. His eyes turned toward her. There was an unreadable expression in them, but it spoke of primitive things, appealed to instincts long dormant in her.

"You are well now?" Haydan asked.

Flame lowered her gaze to the boy's gaunt face. "Aye. Quite healed."

The lad scowled. "'Twould seem foolish to try to fool me about illness or aches, my lady, for I know them intimately and well."

"I am
nearly
healed," she corrected. "I have been ordered to stay abed a bit longer."

"But you will be well and strong soon?"

She nodded. If her own brother had possessed but a droplet of such sincere concern, she could have loved him well. Again Flame's heart ached with loss. "Very soon," she promised. "As will ye."

He looked much older than his twelve years, and yet much smaller. "If you say so, my lady," he agreed, but even his voice was weak, and his hand where it clasped the coverlet shook visibly.

"I do," she said softly. There were tears in the boy's eyes, she realized suddenly. "I do," she said more fervently, and in sudden appeal, grasped his narrow hand in her own. "With the grace of our Lord and Lady Fiona, ye will be well."

Haydan didn't speak.

"It has been a wearisome journey for ye, young Hawk," Roderic said. "And Fiona will be furious if ye be faint from exhaustion when she arrives. I will tell Hannah to show ye yer quarters."

Flame smiled into Haydan's brown eyes. Never had they reminded her more of a wounded deer's than now. She would give half her life to see him healed, she thought, but suddenly Roderic's words reached her consciousness. "Hannah has a blister and must rest her foot."

"Hannah? Tis mistaken ye are, lass, for I saw her spreading fresh basil in the hall."

Something tripped in Flame's mind. "And Clarinda?"

"She was with her," said Roderic, heading for the door. He stopped when he was nearly there. "'Twas kind of ye ta care for wee Graham. But I always suspected ye had a weakness for the bairns."

"I don't have—" Flame protested, but her mind called her words a lie and Roderic was already gone. "I didn't have a weakness for bairns," she corrected softly.

In the quiet that followed Roderic's exit, she stared at the door and felt the trap close around her with silent, hungry teeth. Roderic had brought her against her will, but she did not try to flee. She had vowed never to bear children, but wee Graham had grasped her heart as surely as he had grasped her finger. She had mourned her parting with Haydan. But Haydan was now here.

Everything was changing. But the Flame must not be doused. For her clan's sake, she should leave and retain some pride. The trouble was, she didn't want to.

Chapter 29

“We must cease these clandestine meetings," Roderic quipped. His brothers' faces were shadowed and illumined by a trio of candles impaled upon an iron stand in his own chambers. But even by that uncertain light, he could see their expressions were deadly serious. "Yer wives are becoming jealous."

"Of all the childish, immature, infantile—"

"Hawk would say ye are becoming redundant, Leith," Roderic said, pulling his shirt over his head to face them bare-chested.

"Hawk!" The room shook with Leith's wrath. "What in the name of Jesu were ye thinking when ye snatched him?"

Roderic shrugged. "The lad is sickly. Surely ye would na begrudge him yer lady's healing touch."

"I'll touch you, you brainless oaf!" Leith stormed, pacing the length of the room. "I have seen you do some feebleminded things in the past. When ye were young I thought you would surely cause yer own death. Hell! Every time ye awoke in the morn I would hold me breath wondering if today ye would fall from a roof or drown yerself in the burn. But I thought, foolishly, I see, that ye had grown ta be a man of some responsibility!"

"Well, I—"

"Well ye haven't!" yelled Leith, coming to stand before his brother. "For this be yer most foolhardy deed yet. Why didn't ye tell us where ye were going?"

"Forgive me for my naivete," said Roderic, managing to stifle a grin, "but I thought ye might voice objections."

"Objections!" shouted Leith.

"It's na too late to drown him," fumed Colin, jumping into the fray. "Let's just drown him. He's too doltish to live. And I'm the better-looking of the two anyway."

"What if the MacGowans had found ye? What if ye had been caught? Ye've abducted their lady, for Jesu's sake! Ye think they would have just inquired of her health and gone on their way? Nay! They would have hung ye by yer own worthless entrails!"

Roderic shrugged. "I am never caught, brother!"

"Hell!" Leith swore again and threw up his arms. "If ye are never caught, how did the Lady Flanna get ye ta Dun Ard? Did she but flutter her bonny eyelashes so that ye followed her down the primrose path like a panting hound?"

Roderic raised his brows. "Pretty much that."

"Colin!" Leith yelled. "Talk to him."

"Let's just drown him," Colin suggested again.

Roderic remained silent for a moment, then grinned. "Ye two were worried for me safety."

"Worried!" yelled the brothers in unison.

"Worried?" repeated Leith. "We were but hoping ye wouldn't return so we could rest easy for once. Worried!"

"Roderic." Fiona appeared in the doorway. Roderic smiled and opened his arms and she came like a lithe, auburn-haired angel to hug him. "Why didn't ye tell us your destination?" she asked, pulling away to look into his eyes. "Your brothers have been worried sick."

Leith turned away, grumbling under his breath. Colin swore. Roderic grinned.

"And what about ye, sweet Fiona? Did ye miss me?"

"Like a dog misses his fleas," she said, laughing. "And ye'd best cease flirting so; yer Flanna will not stand for it."

Roderic scowled and pulled the end of his tartan over his bare chest "My Flanna," he said, feeling his stomach sink, "could na care less."

Fiona was the only one who laughed. "Humility in a Forbes!" she said, sounding amazed. "I did not think I'd live to see the day. But 'tis quite becoming on you, Roderic."

Roderic turned away, the thought of Flanna making him fretful and cantankerous. "What the hell's she talking about, Leith?"

"She's saying ye're a dolt," said Leith, not deigning to look at him. "An opinion held by most."

"I think she's saying we should drown him," Colin corrected.

Roderic turned abruptly toward them. "Flanna missed the lad," he said in sudden explanation. "She missed the wee Hawk. Said so herself."

"Sweet Jesu!" rumbled Leith. "And what if she misses her sire, auld Arthur, will ye exhume his rotted body and bring him back to life for her?"

Roderic tightened his jaw. "She willna miss
him,"
he said. It seemed a perfectly reasonable statement to him. Leith, however, didn't seem to find it so.

His hands formed fists. A muscle twitched in his cheek. "Dunna speak so foolishly, lad, for ye know how the sight of yer blood upsets me lady."

It was a blatant threat. Roderic smiled. "I meself find the sight of me blood quite uninspiring. And I am wounded, brother. 'Twould na be a fair fight."

"Then why in the name of heaven did ye na think of those things before ye went cavorting onto MacGowan land to…" Leith raised a heavy arm skyward as if mere shouting weren't enough to express his emotions. "…to .... steal another of their people."

It had always been pure joy raising Leith's ire—until he started swinging. Then it took all the wits and strength Roderic had just to call it a draw. Respect and a certain amount of maturity would keep them from coming to blows this day, he hoped. "Hawk was treated more like an outsider. He is na truly a MacGowan."

"'Tis na what I heard," said Colin soberly.

Roderic scowled, turning toward his twin, but the other only shrugged and added, "When the herald came with word of yer abduction, I began searching for information concerning the MacGowans."

"And?"

"They have close ties to France."

"That I know. Both Flanna and the lad spent a good deal of their lives there."

"They might share more than a second homeland," Colin said. "'Tis na great news that the auld laird was free with his seed, both here and abroad."

"Are ye saying they be brother and sister?" Roderic asked. The idea seemed farfetched, and yet not impossible, for the two shared an intimacy that could not be denied.

Colin shrugged. "The lad was born in France. Why was he brought here?"

"He was orphaned," Roderic said, repeating what Flanna had told him. “The lad was a cousin of the Wolfhound."

Colin raised his brows in question.

"Troy Hamilton," he explained. "Ye must see the man ta understand the name."

"I have seen the man, or shall I call him a mountain?" said Leith. "And I refuse ta believe that even ye would be foolhardy enough ta tek so much as the man's quill, much less his relation."

Roderic smiled. "Where is yer fighting blood, brother?"

"And this from the man who cried 'wounded' when I but scowled in his direction." Leith chuckled.

Roderic considered himself a peaceable man, but talk of Flanna made him edgy. His nerves were taut and it had been long indeed since he had brawled with his brother and laird. "I did na wish ta offend yer lady," he said, clenching his fists. "But if ye insist..."

"Enough," scolded Fiona, stepping between them. "I fear ye have strayed from the intended track yet again.The problem stands as it was at the beginning. The MacGowans are worried and angry. But a few days remain before Flanna must be returned to them."

"I will na return her!" Roderic's voice quivered with the words.

"Then they will come," said Leith.

"We outnumber them five to one and outwit them tenfold!" scoffed Roderic. Celibacy, tension, and rage pressed him on. "They have na the wisdom of rabbits nor the courage of goats."

All eyes watched him. All faces showed surprise.

"Gawd’s wrath!" Roderic swore, striking the wall in his fury. "Dunna look at me so. Ye dunna know her circumstances."

"I presume ye be speaking of Flanna again," said Leith. His tone was quiet and edged with humor.

"Isn't he always?" quipped Colin.

Roderic glared at them both.

"They have na the sense ta value a woman of spirit." He paced rapidly. "They sent her ta France, for Gawd's sake. Sent such a gift as she ta France!"

"The auld man is dead," Leith reminded. "And the lass leads the pack. Na wee feat. Surely they respect her now."

The truth of his words made Roderic's stomach churn. The MacGowan clan did respect her. But if he admitted such, did it not weaken his reason for keeping her at Glen Creag? "How do ye explain her wound then, if ye say they care for her?"

“There is na telling whether it was accidental or apurpose," Colin said. "One of our own men could have loosed the arrow. Or mayhap a MacGowan did not recognize her."

"Nay!" Roderic insisted. "They tried to kill her. And I willna let her go!"

The chamber was deadly silent in the wake of his exclamation.

"Then marry the lass," said Leith into the quiet.

The air left Roderic's lungs in an aching rush. Thetruth was, she did not want him. In all his philandering, in all his years of flirting and flying, never had he found a woman he wished to take for his own. Not until now. And now she would not have him. The irony was not lost on him, 'twas simply that he did not find it amusing.

Everyone watched him. He turned abruptly away. "She is na ready," he said simply.

Silence again, then, "Ho! So Roderic the Rogue has met his match!" Leith said. "And found a maid who can resist his charms."

"'Tis na that," grumbled Roderic. So what if Leith had a right arm that could fell an oak? Roderic was quicker and suddenly longed to pit his strength against the other, to vent his frustration and burn off some steam. "But mayhap I am na the kind ta force a lass ta marry me. Unlike ye, brother."

To Roderic's disappointment, Leith merely chuckled and raised a hand to Fiona. In a moment, she was nestled under his arm.

"Force is a strong word, is it na, me love?"

"Aye. Strong indeed," she murmured with a smile.

Roderic's stomach lurched again. He was not above admitting his jealousy for what they possessed. "Do I disremember, or did she na flee across the hall so that ye had ta chase her down and carry her back up the stairs by force?"

Again Leith chuckled. "I thought 'twas she who carried me."

"Damn ye, Leith!" Roderic swore. "Ye would na have let her go before the sun fell into the sea and the moon glowed red. Ye are na different than me."

Leith's gaze rose slowly from his wife's. "Then marry her, lad."

"I told ye she is na ..."

"Ye are scairt!" proclaimed Colin with a laugh. "Finally ye have met a woman unafraid ta face ye eye ta eye and ye are scairt she will turn ye away."

"I am na scairt!"

"Then mayhap she is na fair enough ta suit ye," suggested Colin.

Roderic rounded quickly on his twin, jabbing a finger toward his chest. "If ye try one of yer tiresome tricks on her I will pound ye ta dust," warned Roderic. In years past it had been humorous to take each other's identity for a passionate night. For the most part, the women, too, had found their practical jokes amusing, for one twin was as desirable as the other. But suddenly the old trick had lost its appeal.