In the Highlander's Bed (15 page)

With the exception of Alex Haddon, her half-breed brother-in-law, she generally had not admired men.

They held all the power and didn’t hesitate to use it against others, especially women. She’d scoffed
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when Miss Casey had taught the “knightly ideal” in classes on history at Madame Lavaliere’s. Men always thought of themselves.

But Gordon Lachlanwas different.

She knew because moments earlier, when they were kissing, he could have done anything he wished…and yet, he’d put the needs of his people before his own desire. He’d known he could not return her as damaged goods.

Constance pulled his tartan up around her shoulders, snuggling into the wool-stuffed pallet, her gaze never leaving Gordon’s sleeping face. She was safer with him than anyone else in this camp.

Hewas like Sir Galahad, the knight Miss Casey used to illustrate her position. He believed in ideals larger than himself.

She didn’t want him to die.

She reached out to touch his golden hair, wanting to see if it was as silky as it appeared. She stopped just when the tips of her fingers could reach him.

Her feelings for him weren’t wise.

But sometimes the heart challenged wisdom.

After all, hadn’t her sister Charlotte married a man who was once her enemy? And Miranda had defied not only their father, but all society, to marry a half-breed.

In light of that…what was one Scottish rebel?

Constance pulled her hand back, suddenly all too aware of the risks.

Charlotte and Miranda were stronger than she. They were more intelligent and far more lovely. She was just the youngest and the least graceful. Everyone was always telling her she was too young to know her own mind. What if they were correct?

She formed a pillow of her arms, ensuring that her hands would not be tempted to touch him again. She had to keep her wits about her. She had to be wise.

That was her last thought as she drifted off to sleep.

Constance was attempting to paddle a canoe in swirling, angry waters. Mad Maggie sat in front of her, shouting that they were going to die and it would be her fault. She wanted her to be quiet but the crone kept rocking the boat back and forth until it was in danger of tipping completely—

The tightening of a hand on her shoulder woke Constance with a gasp. A woman about her age with hair the color of cinnamon leaned over her, the woman whom Gordon had ordered to take care of Mad Maggie. He’d called her Fiona.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Fiona said, rocking back on her heels.

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Constance nodded that she was fine as she pushed her hair back from her eyes. Her braid had fallen out in her sleep. She started to rise and realized she was alone on the pallet. Gordon was gone. Tad, once again, guarded the doorway, his ears alert as he watched Fiona’s every move.

“Don’t mind the dog,” Fiona said. “He listens to me as well as Gordon. I can slip you by him—” Her words broke off with a soft sound of distress. She took hold of Constance’s wrist. “He hurt you. He promised he wouldn’t.”

“He didn’t do this on purpose,” Constance said, defending Gordon. “It was what happened.”

Fiona pressed her lips together as if trying to hold words, but she failed. “It was what happenedbecause he brought you here,” she said in a flash of temper. “Please, gather what things you have quickly. If I am to help you escape, we must hurry.”

“Help me?”

“To escape,” Fiona said impatiently, rising to her feet and shaking off her black skirts.

The last traces of sleepiness in Constance scattered. “You want me to leave? You’re helping me?”

“Yes,”Fiona said. “My brother has gone too far. You’ll bring the English down upon us. I don’t want that. None of us wants that.”

There was true fear in her voice, fear Constance ignored because she was too stunned by this new information. “Gordon is your brother?”

“Myhalf brother,” Fiona said, as if wishing to disclaim him. “We don’t look much alike.”

She was right. Her eyes were brown, her hair red to his blond…but Constance could also see a resemblance. It was there in the way she held her head, the sensual curve of her lip, and the aristocratic tone to her voice.

“Your brother has not harmed me,” Constance said.

“But he could,” Fiona warned. “You must go now. I’ve prepared a pack with food.” She moved to a cloth bundle on the tack chest. “I told Gordon I would see to your needs today since he will be busy drilling the men. That gives you at least ten hours. I don’t know about a horse, but it would be best to walk anyway—”

“You would betray your brother?” Constance interrupted.

Fiona drew herself away at the accusation. “I’m protectingyou .”

Something about the way she said those words set Constance on guard. There was a fragility to Fiona.

She appeared strong and whole, but she wasn’t. Someone, or something, had hurt this woman.

“Your brother is leader of this clan,” Constance answered. “To betray him betrays all.”

“Youcan’t stay.” Fiona snatched up the bundle.

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“Yes, I can,” Constance replied. “You need me to ransom the sword.”

“Wedon’t want the sword.” Fiona moved toward her.

“Who is ‘we’?” Constance asked, fearing the answer. What if Gordon’s clan was turning against him?

What if they had all grown afraid like his sister? If so, Constance thought, she had arrived just in time.

“Everyone,”Fiona declared, and then amended it to “Me.” Her gaze fell. “He didn’t…” She paused as if almost afraid to ask. “…hurtyou, did he?”

It was then that Constance realized she wasn’t asking about the bandages on her wrists.

Fiona glanced at her with an anxious expression. She feared the answer.

And Constance understood.

Fiona’s fear for her was based on her own experience. She had been raped. Constance had met women who had been raped before. Some could manage, all were left with scars.

Gently, she attempted to reassure Fiona. “Your brother has not touched me in any way that is dishonorable—” “Hekissed you. I’ve heard the others talk about it. He slept with you here.Alone. ”

“Gordon has been completely honorable.”

“Look at your wrists,” his sister ordered. “That was not honorable.”

Constance held up bandaged hands. “This couldn’t be avoided.”

“Yes, it could have.” Fiona held out the packet. “There’s cheese and bread for a day or more. I gave you what money I have. It isn’t much. Gordon has spent all we have on his rebellion. Now, go.”

Constance raised her gaze from the packet to meet the other woman’s eyes. “I can’t,” she said simply.

Being her brother’s sister, Fiona frowned as if unable to believe Constance would disobey an order.

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m going to join the rebellion,” Constance said, not knowing until that moment that she would say it, that she had swung over to his Cause. But once she heard the words spoken, they sounded right.

She was too late to reach Edinburgh harbor before theNovus sailed, and she didn’t want to return to Madame Lavaliere’s or be put on the marriage mart in London. “I’m going to stay and fight,” she announced. “I’m joining the Scottish Cause.”

Fiona dropped the hand holding the bundle in stunned surprise. However, her reaction was not one Constance could have anticipated. “Dear Lord,” she said. “You’ve fallen in love with my brother.”

Eleven

The accusation stung with a hint of truth.

Constance frowned at Fiona. “Where would you gain such—” Words failed her. “—such an idea?” she blurted out, anxious to make the denial.

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Yes, she was taken with Gordon. How could any woman not be? He was all things strong and honorable. He could be considerate and protective, but there was an air of danger about him, too. He had a man’s needs, yet hechose to rein in his passions—and thankfully so. Constance had discovered the night before that all her defenses vanished when he kissed her.

But that didn’t equate with love.Lust , maybe—The direction of her thoughts startled Constance. She’d never been one to go moon-eyed over a man.

“My reasons for joining your rebellion are simple,” she assured Fiona.

The Scotswoman crossed her arms. “And they are?”

That she wanted to help Gordon achieve his dream of freedom.But she didn’t say that…because thatdid sound as if she was falling in love with him.

“I’m an American,” Constance said, grasping for ideas. “We thrive on rebellion.”

Fiona snorted her opinion. “Let me warn you, Miss Constance, I already know your story. You and your sisters are infamous since the oldest married Lord Phillip Maddox, the most eligible bachelor in England. You came to this country to win our men with your looks.”

“Ididn’t,” Constance said. “Charlotte dragged me here. I want to go home. I was running away when your brother kidnapped me.”

Fiona indicated the door with a sweep of her hand. Tad was now sitting up on his hind legs, his ears perked as if he took great interest in the conversation. “No one is stopping you from leaving now,” Fiona said. “Come, we’ll pretend I am guarding you.” She picked up the lead rope from the table. “I’ll walk you to the edge of the camp and then you can push me down and make your escape.”

Constance pulled her arm away from the woman. “I won’t go.”

Fiona all but sneered with triumph. “Because he has won you over. Don’t trust him.”

“But he’s your brother,” Constance said. “You should support him.”

“Do you support your sister in everything? Is that why you are runningaway from her?”

Turnabout wasnot fair play. “The relationship between Charlotte and me is different.”

“Is it?” Fiona shook her head. “Why do you want to return to America?”

Constance crossed her arms around her waist. “It’s my home.”

Fiona nodded as if that had been the answer she’d expected. “It’s what you knew. You had dreams there, didn’t you? I had dreams once, too. I had a place in society. I was to go to London for a Season.

I would have married and been happy.”

“How can you be so certain?”

With a shrug Fiona said, “It was expected. I’d been groomed to be the wife of a fine gentleman. I
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dreamed of that day.”

Constance caught herself before she made a face. Charlotte had always gone on about what a lady should know and how she should behave. As the granddaughters of an earl, albeit a disreputable one, Charlotte had insisted that they learn the proper manners so that some day they could return to England and claim their birthright.

Well, here they were in England, Constance thought, and she hadn’t met a single man she’d considering worthy enough to marry—save for Gordon Lachlan.

“What?” Fiona asked, suspicious. “You don’t believe I’m telling the truth, that I was to be a great lady?”

“Great ladies are made in how they think,” Constance said. Those words felt good to speak aloud.

She’d had to hold her tongue too often with her sister and Headmistress Hillary. “If you want to be a great lady, then do great things.”

“I can’t,” Fiona said, her eyes narrowing. “Myhalf brother decided to take part in a rebellion. He made me an outcast.”

“No, the men who murdered your father did that. Gordon wants justice.”

Fiona threw down the lead rope and bundle she’d been carrying. “I know that. He wasmy father, too.I was just as affected .”

“Then why aren’t you as angry?”

“Iam angry,” Fiona countered. “My blood boils with anger. But there is nothing I can do about it. Father didn’t think of the impact his stand against ourfriends , ourneighbors, would have on Mother and me. He was like Gordon, always so concerned about fairness and justice—for everyone else.His wife, his daughter didn’t matter.”

“Your mother is here also?”

“No.” Fiona crossed her arms, gathering the tartan close around her shoulders. “She died shortly after they murdered Father. It was grief that took her. Gordon placed me with Sir Dougal MacLeod’s family.

Sir Dougal had been a close friend of my parents. Lady MacLeod had offered to chaperone me during my London Season after the mourning period was over—not that I would have had any prospects.

Gordon used my dowry for this rebellion. He’s used everything we owned.” A shadow crossed Fiona’s face. “And then one day, after the rebels were discovered at Nathraichean, English soldiers took me away from Sir Dougal, who didn’t dare put up a protest. He just handed me over.”

“What did the soldiers want?” Constance asked.

“Gordon.” Fiona took a step away from Constance. “You can think what you like about my feelings toward my brother, but I didn’t give him up. They tried to make me tell them where he was. I wouldn’t.”

And she’d paid a terrible price for her loyalty.

Constance’s heart broke for the woman. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t be,” Fiona said with a bitter laugh. “Just leave. Go, so that this will all end. We can’t fight the
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English, and if Gordon persists, we will all die.”

“You are already in danger,” Constance countered. “And they will never let him go. He has a price on his head. He has no choice but to fight, and I’m a key to his claiming the Sword of the MacKenna. Is that why you want me to leave, so he can fail? Would you choose the opportunity to go to London and marry some man over your brother’s life?”

“There is no marriage for me,” Fiona said, her voice brittle. “I’m ruined. No decent man would have me.

I’m not even fit to be a scullery maid. Gordon is wrong to carry this rebellion forward. People are hurt by it.”