Highland Vow (13 page)

The ride to the village took all of her courage. It was more night than day and she had to fight against seeing danger in every shadow. As she walked into the inn, she almost smiled at the way the innkeeper and his wife gaped at her. She knew she looked appalling with her tattered dress and bruised face, but she calmly settled the account and went up to collect her things, the baby, and Muddy.

“Oh, m’lady,” cried Dorcas as Elspeth stepped into the room. “What happened to ye and where is your bonny mon?”

“A long and troubled tale, I fear, Dorcas. I was taken and Sir Cormac rescued me. He has a wound or two and so I have come to get our things, the bairn, and the cat.” Elspeth smiled as she stepped up to the bed and a loudly purring Muddy demanded her attention. “Ye are a good cat,” she told him as she scratched his head. “Ye tried to protect the bairn, didnae ye?”

“He did that.” Dorcas showed Elspeth the scratches on her arm. “E’en from me.”

“I am sorry.”

“Nay, he meant no harm and your mon soothed him quick enough.”

“Ye are a good soul to care for the bairn as ye have.”

“He is just a wee bairn, isnae he? Black as the devil hisself, true enough, but just a bairn. It was wrong what they did.”

“To the bairn, aye. I begin to think his mother was long o’erdue for a hanging. ’Tis just a shame it was done for all the wrong reasons. Could ye fetch me your priest, Dorcas? I have a few things I must tell him.”

By the time Dorcas returned with the young priest, Elspeth was packed and very ready to leave. As she told him all she had learned of Anne Seaton, and all that had happened to her and Cormac, she was a little afraid he would swoon. It was clear he had never thought to deal with such dark events in such a tiny village. He told her he would come to the cottage in the morning with a few men and, perhaps, someone from the laird who held most of the land in the area. She then got him to christen the baby, whom she called Alan, naming her cousins Payton and Sorcha as godparents. Elspeth thanked Dorcas, gave the priest some money, and headed back to the cottage, battling exhaustion every step of the way.

“Where have ye been?” demanded Cormac as she stumbled into the cottage,
carrying Alan and the cat.

Elspeth blinked and stared at Cormac, who had man aged to sit up and was obviously thinking of getting out of bed. “Ye didnae sleep verra long at all,” she said, setting Muddy down and handing Cormac the child. “Let me see to our things and the horses ere ye begin to scold me.”

Feeling dizzy and weak from struggling to sit up, Cormac feared he would drop the child. He cautiously lay back down, settling the baby against his chest. When Muddy got on the bed to sprawl purring loudly at his side, he smiled. It was strange, but despite the pain of his wounds, he felt content, as if all was now as it should be and he could rest.

As soon as Elspeth finished unpacking, seeing to the horses, settling Alan in his bed, and checking Cormac’s wounds, she stripped down to her thin chemise and crawled into bed next to Cormac. There did not seem to be any part of her that did not ache. She was glad that, despite the lurid bruises and ugly marks left by her bonds, she had no wounds that needed tending. She was simply too tired to do it. Taking hold of Cormac’s hand, she told him everything she had done while in the village.

“Alan. A good name,” Cormac said as he tugged his hand free, slid his arm around her shoulders, and tucked her up against his side. “Poor lass.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “And poor me. I had such lovely plans for this night.”

Elspeth laughed softly then yawned. “So did I. E’en if I didnae ache all over, I am just too tired.”

“And I would probably bleed all over you.”

“Aye, ye would.” She kissed his chest, then rubbed her cheek against his warm skin, reveling in the fact that he was alive and by her side. “’Tis over.”

Cormac rested his cheek against her hair. “Aye, ye are safe now.”

“Ye dinnae think his heir or his clansmen will seek revenge?”

“Nay. His heir is the lad my cousin Mary is probably wed to by now. He seemed a fair-minded lad. And although I wasnae there for verra long, I didnae get the feeling that his clan will be weeping much o’er Sir Colin’s grave. ’Twas no secret amongst them what he had done to ye and intended to do. They willnae be surprised that he was killed because of it. Get some rest, angel. It sounds as if ye will be busy on the morrow. I fear I may not be of much help, either.”

“Ye should be able to talk weel enough. If anyone needs to have some questions answered, I shall send them to you.”

“Fair enough. Are ye going to tell Alan about his mother when he is old enough to ask about her?”

Elspeth sighed. “I dinnae ken. ’Tisnae a tale anyone would wish to hear about their mother. Then again, everyone here will ken the truth, so what will be gained by hiding it? I think I am just too weary to e’en worry about it just now. Good sleep, Cormac.”

“Good sleep, angel.”

Cormac stared up at the ceiling, smiling faintly at how quickly Elspeth fell asleep in his arms. His life had become very complicated since meeting her. When he had seen her tied to the bed, naked and helpless, he had known what Sir Colin had intended or what he had already accomplished, and his rage had been nearly blinding. It was not only Elspeth’s troubles he had gotten himself deeply tangled up in, but Elspeth herself as well. He dared not even look into his heart. He was not free to do so. Yet he knew even now it was going to hurt when she left.

A part of him wanted to give up on his vow and run off with Elspeth. He could barely recall the emotions that had prompted the vow to Isabel years ago. Yet he could not do it. His parents continuously did all they could to blacken their name and that stain spread to their children. They gambled, whored, bred children, and cast them aside, nearly beggared their people, and were widely known as liars and cheats. Cormac had long ago decided that he would show the world that not all of his family were so lacking in honor, and had done his best to make his siblings understand the value of keeping one’s word. He had given his word to stand by Isabel, vowed to love and honor her. She counted on him to keep his word. He could not fail her. He could not fail himself, either. Although he was deeply confused about his feelings at the moment, he was sure of one thing. He had made a vow and he would stand by it. He could only pray that he did not destroy them all by doing so.

It took more than one day to sort everything out. At times, Elspeth felt a strong urge to tell everyone to just go away, but she knew Anne Seaton’s crimes needed to be confirmed, and so did the story she and Cormac told of how Sir Colin had died. The bodies of two men and three babies were found buried in Anne Seaton’s kitchen garden. Elspeth’s heart ached for them all, but mostly it ached for little Alan. He would have to know the truth about his mother someday and it would be a hard truth for anyone to accept. She was going to have to make sure that he was deeply loved. It might soften the blow and make it easier for him to understand that his mother’s sins were hers alone, that there was no fault in him and no taint to be passed on to his children.

The laird’s man produced the papers needed to show that the cottage and its lands now belonged to Alan. It was not much, but it was more than many another bastard held. She tried to get a father’s name and gained no new information. The laird’s man refused to tell her who had bought the cottage and the land for Anne Seaton, for he would not break a confidence. Elspeth compromised by telling the man that, if he ever felt he could give her the name, he was to send the information to Donncoill. She briefly considered leaving word that the man might have a son, but decided she needed to meet with and come to know any man who might try to claim the child. Alan’s mother had left him with enough of a burden to bear. Elspeth had no intention of letting anyone take the boy unless she approved of him and felt certain that Alan would be loved.

Five days had come and gone before she and Cormac finally found themselves alone again. Although they had not made love, Elspeth felt they were closer than they had been before. When they were not dealing with the villagers, the laird’s man, or the priest, they talked. Elspeth finally began to learn more about Cormac and about his past. Although Isabel’s name occasionally slipped into the conversation, she appeared only as part of a tale about something else, hastily mentioned and hastily forgotten.

When Elspeth returned from fetching water on the sixth day and found Cormac fully dressed and on his feet, she knew that their time in the cottage was at an end. He was unsteady and needed to clutch the bedpost to stay upright, but she knew he would insist that he was strong enough to travel the last few miles to the king’s court, and thus to Isabel. For a moment she tried to convince herself that he was in a hurry to reach the king’s court because that was where he had told her family to find her, but she could not make herself believe it. She had hoped he would linger at the cottage until he was well enough for them to make love at least once more before confronting the problem of
Isabel, but it was evident that that was not going to happen, either.

“Ye are going to fall flat on your face,” she said as she put the bucket of water down on the table.

“I am nay that weak.” He grimaced as he sat back down on the bed. “I can ride. We dinnae have that far left to go.”

“Why not wait another day or two? That wound to your leg was deep and ye lost a lot of blood. Aye, ye have some of your strength back, but if ye try to ride now, ye could easily use it all up.”

“Then I will rest when I get there.” He sighed and dragged his fingers through his hair. “Paul and Owen have certainly delivered our message to your family by now. Your family could already be looking for you. If ye arenae at court as we said ye would be, they could easily ride to Sir Colin’s lands hot for blood. Ye have to be there when they come for ye, or that feud we may have avoided could begin in earnest. Ye dinnae want that, do ye?”

“Nay, of course not. So we leave on the morrow?”

“Aye. At first light.”

As she crawled into bed beside him that night, Elspeth clung to him and fought to still her fears. She loved him so much she could not believe he could not love her back. A passion as fierce as the one they shared had to be born of love. Elspeth just prayed it was enough to make him finally walk away from Isabel, but she could not be sure it would be.

In all their talks, Elspeth had learned one very disturbing thing: Cormac’s parents were little more than whores, thieves, and liars. She felt sympathy for Cormac and his siblings, unloved and shamed by their notorious parents, but he had obviously survived that harsh childhood. What troubled her was that Cormac seemed to feel the burden of restoring the family honor rested squarely upon his broad shoulders.

All good men held their honor dear, but Cormac held it dearer than most, so dear he could not even consider breaking his word. It was not just his own integrity he desperately needed to perserve, but that of his siblings. His parents had made sure that the honor of their clan was little more than a jest, and Cormac was blindly determined to change that. To him, any wavering was akin to starting down the path his parents walked, and he could never do it. There was no gray for Cormac, only black and white. One either kept one’s word, and thus one’s honor, or one broke them both.

Which meant, she thought as she fought the urge to cry, his vow to Isabel was as good as chiseled in stone.

“I told ye it was foolish to climb back on a horse so soon,” Elspeth scolded as she helped a pale, sweating Cormac into his bed.

They had barely made it to the inn Cormac always stayed at when coming to the king’s court. For every foot of the last two miles Elspeth had expected Cormac to tumble off his horse and sprawl facedown in the dirt. She had bit her tongue against complaints and fretting so much she was surprised there was still one in her mouth. All she had been able to do was keep a close eye out for any new bleeding from his wounds.

“It may not have been the wisest thing I have ever done,” Cormac conceded, smiling faintly as a muttering Elspeth took his clothes off. “Ye can scold me in a clear voice, Elspeth. I believe I am mon enough to endure it.”

She just shook her head as she changed his bandages, cleaning and putting salve on his wounds, before covering them again with clean strips of linen. His eyes were closed by the time she was done, but his color was better. She tugged the blankets over him, annoyed at his stubbornness yet deeply relieved that he had not caused himself any serious harm.

Elspeth turned her attention to unpacking and tending to little Alan’s needs. She knew some of her anger at Cormac came from the fact that she could not be sure why he had risked his health to get here. He claimed it was to meet with her family, to ensure that they were given no reason to ride against Sir Colin’s clan. And yet, this was where he was headed when they had first joined forces, racing to answer Isabel’s call. Elspeth knew she had slowed him down, made him hesitate, but she was not sure she had stopped him from returning to the woman.

When Cormac slept through the meal the maid brought, as well as the bath Elspeth indulged in, she was pleased even though she felt a little abandoned. As she crawled into bed beside him, he muttered her name as he slid his good arm around her and pulled her up next to his side. Then, with a sigh that sounded very much like satisfaction, he grew quiet again.
He reaches for me in his dreams
, she thought and tried to find some glimmer of hope in that.

Cormac winced because the bright sunlight hurt his eyes. It took him a moment to adjust to the light, but then he looked around, recognizing the inn he had so often stayed in. Elspeth was dressed in a pretty green gown and was just finishing a rather intricate braiding of her hair. Alan lay in the cradle they had brought with them from the cottage, murmuring to himself as he played with his toes. Muddy was sprawled on his back in the sun at the foot of the bed, looking big and disreputable. Cormac smiled. They were an odd little group, but the sight of them made him feel content.

“Ah, ye are awake at last,” Elspeth said, smiling at him as she walked to the side of his bed.

“Nay, let me try to sit up without any help.” There were several twinges as he did so, but Cormac felt stronger than he had in days. “Just how long have I been asleep?”

“Weel, ye went to sleep shortly after we got here. Then ye woke up yesterday to eat and have a lad help ye see to your needs. And all through last night. ’Tis now noon of the second day.”

“Good God.” He shook his head. “Nay wonder I am near to starving.”

“The lad should be here soon with some food, and if ye wish, he will help ye clean
up a bit.”

“Aye, that would be welcome.” He frowned when she donned her cape. “Where are ye going?”

“To the court. I think that is the best place to leave word for my kinsmen, dinnae ye?”

“Oh, aye.” Cormac inwardly scolded himself for feeling as if she were deserting him and looking a little too eager to do so. “Just make sure that the ones ye tell plan to linger here for a while. E’en better would be someone who kens your family. A kinsmon perhaps.” He frowned as he thought of Elspeth wandering alone amongst all those lusty courtiers. “Mayhap ye should wait until I can take ye there.”

Elspeth laughed softly and kissed his cheek. “I will be fine. If ye wish, the lad can watch Alan, although the bairn should soon be asleep and I dinnae intend to be gone too long.”

Even as Elspeth went out, the innkeeper’s young son Robbie came in, carrying a large tray of food. Cormac put aside his concerns as he saw to his personal needs, filled his empty belly, and then got himself as thoroughly washed as one could without actually getting in a tub. He only felt slightly tired by all that activity and that pleased him. A long, uninterrupted sleep had obviously been just what he had needed. With Robbie’s help, he walked around the room a few times until he knew he was leaning more on the boy than he was actually walking.

After washing off the sweat those exertions had raised, Cormac climbed back into bed, weary but content. It would be a few more days before he could walk very far, if only because he needed to build up his strength, but he was healing at an acceptable speed. After a short rest, he knew there was one thing he was certainly recovered enough to indulge in. It had been far too long since he and Elspeth had made love and he ached for her. The wound on his arm was healed enough that Elspeth could already remove the stitches she had put in. She had said that they were mostly used to try to reduce the size of the scar he would have. It was his leg that would cause some awkwardness, but then he grinned. Elspeth would just have to do most of the work.

As Robbie started to leave, Cormac glanced at the boy’s fair hair and was suddenly, sharply, reminded of why he had been planning to come to this place.
Isabel
. He sighed and asked the boy to bring him a quill, ink, and parchment. Within moments he had written a short message to Isabel and sent the boy to deliver it to her. He then lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering why he felt as if he had just betrayed Elspeth.

Elspeth frowned as she wove her way through the crowd of people who seemed to be everywhere in the bailey, the halls, and the chambers of the king’s court. Just as she began to think that she had wasted her time, that there was no one in this pack of well-dressed beggars she could leave a message with, she spotted her foster cousin James Drummond. She roughly made her way through the crowd, breathing a sigh of relief when she reached him even as he started to leave with two other men.

“James,” she cried, stumbling forward and grabbing him by the arm.

“God’s teeth, Elspeth!” He laughed as he hugged her and kissed her on each cheek. “I have heard some dire tales about you—so dire that I was soon to ride to Donncoill and see what was wrong.” He glanced at his two companions. “I willnae be going with ye, lads. Mayhap we will meet up later.”

After watching the two young men walk away, Elspeth looked at her handsome cousin and smiled faintly. “Ye didnae introduce me to your friends, James.” Her smile widened when he blushed faintly and looked a little uneasy. “Lecherous?”

James sighed and nodded. “Good friends and I would trust them to guard my back weel in a fight.”

“But ye arenae sure ye would trust them near any of the lasses in your family.” She laughed when he reluctantly nodded, then grew serious as she braced herself and asked, “Have ye heard any news of Payton?”

“Weel, I have heard a few whispers that he is dead, which caused far too many women to start weeping, if ye ask me, but I dinnae believe it.”

“I dinnae want to believe it, either, but I saw him felled by an arrow.” She gave James a very brief accounting of her troubles with Sir Colin and welcomed his comforting hug.

“Everyone kens I am here, Elspeth. If Payton were dead or still lost, I would have heard something.”

“Ye hadnae heard about me.”

“Ah, weel, I suspect that is because they kenned exactly what happened to ye, and e’en though they may think ye are still with Sir Colin, they ken that ye are alive. As soon as it was decided what needed to be done, I would have been sent for. Just as I would have been sent for if Payton were dead or a hunt was on to find him.”

“Of course. Thank ye. I admit that my hope for him was fading a wee bit. But ye are exactly right. Had Payton been killed or was still lost, our family wouldnae have left ye here to play with your lecherous friends.”

“Lechery can be very hard work, lass.” James chuckled when she gave him a disgusted look. “Now I must needs find ye a place to stay. I dinnae think there are any rooms free here, but it willnae take long to find out.”

“I have a room, James,” she said quietly, and waited patiently for him to think things through.

“Elspeth, ye cannae share a room at an inn with that mon,” James said, keeping his voice low and watching the people around them to make sure no one came close enough to hear him. “Ye must ken what people will think.”

“Aye.” She shrugged, glancing around at the crowd and frowning when she saw a rather voluptuous blond woman staring at her somewhat intently. “They can say all they wish, talk until their foolish tongues fall from their mouths. I dinnae care. I will stay with Cormac.”

For a long time James stared at her; then he cursed. “He is the one, isnae he?”

She smiled a little sadly as she nodded. “He is.”

“But he is—weel, ’tis said that he is verra deeply involved with a woman. Has been for years, though God alone kens why.”

“I ken it. Lady Isabel Douglas, she of the four dead husbands. He bound himself to her with a vow whilst still a lad, but youthful folly or nay, Cormac deeply believes in holding to a vow.” She shook her head. “I understand it all—I truly do—and good sense should have told me to stay faraway from such a tangle.”

“But ye couldnae find any good sense.”

“Oh, it was there. I just ignored it. I love him. I think I have loved him since I was a child. This may be the biggest and most foolish risk I have e’er taken, but I had to try.
Can ye understand that, James?”

“Aye, I can understand. I just wish ye had chosen to gamble in something where ye had a better chance of winning. Any mon would be a fool to turn ye aside for a woman like Lady Isabel, but, sweeting, I do think ye may have given your heart to a fool.”

“Weel, there are a few things I have learned since I began this, which if I had kenned them at the start might have made me hesitate.” She frowned, then shook her head. “Nay. I still would have thrown the dice. I just might have prayed o’er them a little harder.” She saw young Robbie wend his way through the crowd and hand the fulsome blonde a message. “Who is that woman? The one the fair-haired lad is standing with?”

“That is the notorious Lady Isabel. Elspeth, are ye ill? Ye have gone quite pale.”

That did not surprise her. Elspeth felt quite ill. She knew, deep in her suddenly aching heart, that Cormac had sent Isabel a message. He had not given up on the woman. Elspeth wanted to believe that he was simply doing the honorable thing, that he would have to see Isabel in order to end their long, tangled affair, but she dared not nurse that hope.

“I think I am but tired.” She kissed James’s cheek and could tell by the sympathetic look in his eyes that he knew what really ailed her. “I am sure we will see each other again whilst we are both wandering about this place. Just let the family ken that all is weel if they arrive and find ye ere I find them.”

“Agreed. Elspeth, take care. Isabel isnae a woman to cross swords with. Most people believe she has killed at least one, if not all, of her husbands. She is a whore, but a clever one. She has bedded nearly every powerful mon at court and doesnae hesitate to use them to her own advantage. The woman could destroy you.”

“I ken it. And in truth, she could be able to order the king himself about and it wouldnae matter. She only has to do one thing.”

“Ah, bed your bonny knight.”

“Weel, aye, that might do it.” The mere thought of Isabel and Cormac in a passionate embrace made bile sting the back of her throat. “Actually, I was thinking that all she has to do is hold Cormac to his vow.” She saw Robbie start to leave. “I will see ye later, James. Dinnae worry about me.”

“Easier said than done,” he muttered as he watched Elspeth leave and noticed how closely Lady Isabel watched her.

Elspeth collapsed against the cool stone wall of the inn and tried to get her riotous emotions under control. She had caught Robbie, and since none had sworn him to secrecy, he had quickly told her that Cormac had indeed sent a note to Isabel and what Isabel had said in reply. Without prompting, he threw in a few well-chosen pieces of gossip about the woman that made Elspeth wonder at Cormac’s blindness. When even beardless boys knew what Isabel was, it was past time for the man to pay attention. Although the boy had no idea what Cormac had said, Isabel’s answer had been enough to give Elspeth a very good idea. Cormac had told Isabel that he was here, had answered her summons, and was ready to meet with her. Isabel had told him that he was not to come to her; she would send for him. A few small coins had been enough to get Robbie to swear he would not tell Cormac about their little chat.

Not a very romantic exchange, she thought, but still a threat. It was hard to conquer her hurt and anger, however. She could not face Cormac until she did. There was still a
chance for her to win. Instinct told her that Isabel would never let go of Cormac, but he might be prepared to end their long relationship. Despite his beliefs, could he really cling to a vow that had brought him so little after ten long years?

Elspeth straightened up and took a deep breath to steady herself. She still had a chance. Until he actually chose Isabel, it was foolish to give up. She had known that he was coming here to see Isabel, that the woman had sent for him. It was foolish to believe that one small exchange of messages meant she had already lost her gamble. Elspeth headed toward the door of the inn. She had one night, maybe more, to make her mark. Even if she was about to be cast aside for an old mistress and an old vow, she would not waste what little time she might have left with Cormac wallowing in fear and regret. Isabel was not in his bed yet and Elspeth planned to fill it so completely that Isabel would find it very crowded even if Cormac did choose her.

When she entered the room, she found Cormac staring at the ceiling and frowning. Isabel’s message had evidently not pleased him. Good. Perhaps, in her arrogance, the woman would err. Any man would find it galling to be sent for and then told to wait. Elspeth inwardly shook her head. She would not hope, would not try to see a promise that was not there. She would take it one hour at a time. The ax might be about to fall, but until it did, she would ignore how it hung over her head.