Journey to the Highlands: Robbie and Caralyn (Clan Grant Series Book 4) (6 page)

BOOK: Journey to the Highlands: Robbie and Caralyn (Clan Grant Series Book 4)
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Chapter Ten

 

Robbie Grant’s eyes roved the great hall, hopeful to find Caralyn here. He and Tomas had scoured the entire town of Glasgow without finding one sign of the lass. He was counting on the fact that Malcolm Murray, a man who put on airs, would consider himself important enough to show up at the castle for the victory celebration.

Tomas interrupted his thoughts. “Good fortune for you that King Alexander decided to celebrate here in Glasgow instead of the royal burgh, aye?”

Too busy searching the area for Caralyn, Robbie did not even glance at his friend. “Och, but we should have found her by now. How does a lass just disappear?”

“Glasgow is much bigger with packhorses heading to ships in the firth.”

“Don’t even mention that possibility that they have left. She’s in Glasgow. I can feel it.”

“I hope you’re correct. We need to find her so we can get her out of your mind and return to the Highlands where we belong.”

Dundonald approached them, two strangers on his heels. “Gentlemen,” he stepped back to allow his companions to stand at his side. “I would like to introduce you to Captain Grant, and his comrade, Tomas More of Drumiston. The Grant Clan, under their direction, was instrumental in garnering our win against the Norse at the Battle of Largs. Lord Montgomery and Baron Strathman would like to offer their thanks for your assistance in the name of the Scottish Crown.”

Lord Montgomery spoke first. “My thanks for sending the Norse running. Why, I hear they ran from the mound to the beach as soon as they saw you Highlanders heading their way.”

Baron Strathman chuckled. “Captain Grant, were you the one with the golden helm? We heard many tales of a golden-helmed warrior’s prowess in battle.”

“Nay, ‘twas my brother, Laird Alexander Grant, in the golden helm and on the mail-clad destrier. He is a fierce fighter.”

“Our thanks for a quick end to the battle. We feared for our own vessels on the Firth of Clyde,” Montgomery said.

“You are both merchants living in Glasgow?” Robbie sipped his ale, his heartbeat increasing while he struggled to maintain a calm exterior.

The two men nodded while Dundonald offered a quick bow and stepped away. Now was his chance. Perhaps they knew something of the blackguard who’d kidnapped Caralyn. “What do you know of a merchant named Malcolm Murray?”

Tomas gave him a pointed look before turning his attention back to their companions.

Robbie carefully assessed both men for any reaction to the name. Both of them looked uncertain at first, but recognition soon dawned on the baron’s face. “Murray, you say? I think I have heard of the name. Why…Och, nay.” He and Lord Montgomery exchanged a knowing look.

Robbie had to know more, as much as they could tell him. “Gentlemen? I’m asking a favor. Please tell me what you know. He is nae friend of mine. I am seeking information only.”

Lord Montgomery nodded. “Malcolm Murray does claim to be a merchant and he is a wealthy man, but—” he cleared his throat before continuing, “—his business is questionable. That’s all I can offer.”

“Does he reside in Glasgow?”

“Aye, at a small keep at the edge of town.”

Robbie nodded. “My thanks.”

“Och, the pleasure has been ours, lads. We appreciate all you did to put an end to this nonsense with King Haakon of Norway. Time to return to normal business. Captain.” Lord Montgomery clasped Robbie’s shoulder before moving on to another group of men.

Robbie turned to Tomas. “There you have it. We need to find his keep, then I will have the answer to my questions.”

“Aye,” Tomas said. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t maintain many guards around his keep.”

The festivities picked up as more Scots continued to file into the great hall. Minstrels wandered about, making their way through the mass and entertaining guests at will. Lasses serving food from small trays made their way around the periphery of the large chamber. Robbie grabbed a chunk of brown bread from a tray and started chewing.

“Tomas, there must be many men here who know Glasgow well. We just need to find the right ones and question them.” He paused for a swig of ale.

“You may not need to do that,” Tomas said.

“What?” Robbie froze as a strange feeling crept up his neck. Tomas nodded his head to their left.

Robbie turned his head, and there he was. Malcolm Murray strutted like a peacock, his arm gripping someone behind him. Robbie couldn’t see her face yet, but he knew who it was—Caralyn. He recognized those silky threads of dark hair, those luscious curves. He would know her anywhere.

She turned and caught his gaze, blushing instantly and turning her head as fast as she could. Why? What had he done to make her deny him?

He didn’t have to wait long for his answer. As soon as Murray spotted him, he made his way through the crowd and headed straight for him. He tugged Caralyn in front of him, one hand grasping her wrist, the other on her waist.

“Captain Grant, I would like you to meet my wife, Catriona.”

Robbie could do naught but nod. “My lady.” He wanted her to look at him, but she refused, keeping her eyes determinedly cast downward. Murray squeezed her waist. “Speak to the captain, love.”

Caralyn kept her eyes down, but whispered, “Greetings, Captain.”

Robbie didn’t hesitate. “Greetings, Catriona.” He dragged out her name as if to remind her of her lie. In the space of a few seconds, memories of their night together filled his senses, the feel of her body against his, of her soft skin beneath his caress. Her light scent teased him. Her passion had known no bounds, but now she couldn’t even bring herself to look at him. Somehow, the name Caralyn fit her much better than Catriona. Glancing at Murray again, he said, “And how are your two daughters? What did you say their names were again?”

“I didn’t. They’re fine.”

Robbie persisted. “Aline, Alison, Ashley…”

“Ashlyn.” Caralyn blurted out her daughter’s name, but then blushed and a queer expression crossed her face.

Fear. Robbie had seen it. She was afraid of her husband. He stared at her, willing her to lift her gaze, but she wouldn’t. Darkness crept across her face, the most beautiful face he had ever seen, and he suddenly realized what had caused the change. Her husband had a tight grip on her thumb and was bending it backwards. Robbie grabbed hold of his arm and twisted. “Do you always treat your wife with such care, Murray? Release her.”

Murray gritted his teeth. “I don’t know what your game is, Captain, but she is my wife. I will do as I please with her. Do not ever look at her again if you value your life.” He spun on his heel and tugged Caralyn behind him.

She turned her head back to Robbie and mouthed the words, “Help me.”

They disappeared out the door.

Robbie headed for the door instantly, beckoning to Tomas. “Now. We’re following, and if we get the chance, I’ll steal her away tonight.”

Tomas caught up with him by the stables. As soon as they caught sight of Murray, the two of them held back.

“Slud, he has five men with him,” Tomas said. “You’ll never get her tonight. That’s six to two.” He mounted his horse, but pranced in a circle rather than moving forward.

Robbie mounted his own horse. “Aye, there are too many around because of the festivities,” he said. “But we can still discover where she lives.”

 

Chapter Eleven

 

“Now do you wish to tell me the truth about Captain Grant, my love?” Malcolm Murray had brought her back to his keep.

She knew he was angry, but she was unsure of why. He knew nothing.

“Why does he know you? Why does he ask about you?” He grasped her and tightened his grip, his fingers biting into the tender flesh of her underarm.

They stood in his chamber, the door latched. She hated when he was angry. He didn’t know how to control his temper and he usually took it out on her.

“Tell me!” He jerked her closer until she was a mere inch from his face.

“He’s the one,” she whispered. Oh, how she wished he could be the only male in her life. He was the only one to have treated her with any kindness, the only one who seemed to care about her at all.

“What?”

“The one who saved me from the Norseman. I told you about the man who punched me and tried to put me onto his galley.” Tears misted in her eyes, but she tried not to lose control. “Captain Grant stopped him.”

“So you were
with
him?” A familiar fury filled Malcolm’s gaze.

“Nay, not like that. The Norseman knocked me out. When I awoke, I was in a tent in a camp full of Highland warriors.”

“And?”

“And he went back to find my daughters and then took me to the priory.”

“Did you have relations with him? Did you give my goods away for free? Or did you charge him?”

“Nay, I didn’t.”

He dropped her arm and slapped her cheek. Her hand came up to defend herself from his brutality.

“Men do not follow a woman around like that unless they have tasted her. Did you let him taste you? Did you?”

“Nay! I didn’t do anything. My ankle was swollen; my face was all bruised and cut. I had open wounds all over my body from being dragged across the stones. You saw my wounds. I was in too much pain to even think about such a thing.”

“You lie.” He tossed her onto the bed. “You lie and you will pay for this. Never.” He bent down and put his finger in her face. “Never let another man touch you unless I tell you to.”

He grabbed his mantle and headed for the door.

Caralyn jumped out of the bed. “Where are you going? Please, my girls. Don’t hurt them. This had naught to do with them.” She rubbed her palm across her sore cheek.

He stopped at the door and turned, his hand still on the latch. “You will pay for this. You thought I would let you see them in a sennight? Absolutely not. You will not see your daughters until the next moon. Try and cuckold me again.” Malcolm stalked out and slammed the door. “And don’t leave this chamber!” he bellowed as he ran down the staircase.

Caralyn threw herself back on the bed. “Nay, nay, nay! My lassies. Please, nay. I have to see them.” Sobs wrenched from her gut. How she hoped Robbie had heard her plea. Would he help her? Could he? She couldn’t bear to be separated from her girls.

Why had this happened to her? She had finally convinced Malcolm to let them live alone in the cottage, with open visitations, of course, but now everything was ruined. Aye, he had left guards while he was away, and she had still been forced to do things she didn’t want to do, but at least her daughters had been at her side. Just when she’d thought her life couldn’t get any worse, Malcolm had found a new way to torture her.

Why had the Norse come along and ruined her life?

***

Two nights later, Caralyn rested on her side on the bed. Malcolm had just left after taking her body. She hated sex with him but she knew she had no choice. He owned her. He had her daughters. She had only seen them once since they left the priory. Ashlyn and Gracie’s faces had told her everything; they were unhappy. Ashlyn had told her the place they were being kept was dirty, but they were unhurt.

Gracie had just stared at her with the same haunted look in her eyes, the look Caralyn had hoped to banish from the wee lass’s gaze forever. She failed her daughters again. Now, she would do whatever Malcolm wanted just so she could see them again.

A slight rustling outside the window caught her attention. She lifted her head, listening, trying to determine the source of the low scratching. Pushing her covers back, she sat up and hung her legs over the side of the bed, shuffling her feet around to find her shoes. Tiptoeing over to the window, she tugged the fur back far enough to peek over the ledge.

A man had scaled her wall, using a rope secured on the rooftop apparently. For some reason, she didn’t scream. Peering at the top of his head, she recognized the light brown hair, the broad shoulders, the strong hands. He paused for a moment, as if he could sense her presence at the window. Grasping the rope with one hand, he lifted his gaze to hers, and brought a finger to his lips, urging her to keep silent. Robbie Grant. She noticed his friend at the base of the rope.

Her heart soared at the sight of him. How she wished Robbie Grant could be by her side for the rest of her life. He would make the best father in the world. As his hand reached for the ledge, she pulled the fur back allowing him entrance to her chamber.

He stepped on the sill and brought himself up to full height, breaking out in a smile that showed his glorious white teeth. Winking at her, he hopped down next to her. “Greetings, lass.”

“Robbie Grant, you must be daft. If Malcolm finds you here, he’ll kill you.”

Robbie winked at her. “Och, lass, do you really think Malcolm could do much damage to me on his own? He is naught without his big louts.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “I didn’t think you would come.”

His hand cupped her chin, his thumb caressing the line of her jaw for a brief moment. “Did you not ask me to help you? Do you think I could walk away from a lass in need? Och, I am a Grant warrior, love. I could never leave you in the hands of that monster.”

Robbie bent down and brushed her lips with his, a tentative kiss, but one that made her want more. She parted her lips for him and he tasted her with his tongue, a sweet caress that caused her to lose her senses and lean into his embrace.

When he finished the kiss, she sighed in satisfaction, hoping there would be more kisses from this man who had stolen her heart. A mischievous grin crossed his features, melting her heart a bit more.

The expression on his face switched from winsome to serious in the matter of a few seconds. “Lass, we need to talk. Please tell me what goes on here. Is Malcolm your true husband?”

Caralyn’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Nay.” She plopped down onto the bed. “He is not my husband. I would never have agreed to wed him. He chose me when we lived in South Ayrshire. ‘Twas after I lost my parents and my husband. My village had been a part of the Crauford house by the coastline, but we lost so many to sickness that few of us remained. I had nowhere else to go. He uses my lassies to blackmail me.”

“Where are they now?” Robbie brushed the silky strands of her hair off her face in a soft caress.

Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I don’t know. He was never this cruel in Ayrshire. Now he has hidden them from me, and if I don’t do exactly as he commands, he says he won’t allow any visits.”

“When was the last time you saw them?”

“A few days ago,” she blurted, her sobs causing her breath to hitch. “They are kept in a shabby room I know not where. Ashlyn says they stay with two men. Malcolm said I could see them once a sennight, but after seeing you, he said I couldn’t see them for a whole moon.”

“Och, Cara, I am sorry.” He pulled her to her feet and wrapped her in his warm embrace.

Why could they not be together? Robbie was everything she had ever wanted in a partner: warm, tender, loving, honorable, and safe. More than anything, she wanted to be safe, and she wanted her daughters to be safe, too. Why could they not live together as a family?

“Caralyn, why does he call you Catriona?”

“Och, I hate it. He says it’s his name for me, and that I am never to be called Caralyn again. But the name my mama and papa gave me is Caralyn.”

“What kind of business is Malcolm involved in?”

“I’m not sure. I think he deals in whisky and spices from the East, but I can’t say for sure. Recently, he spoke of Irish bills. Sometimes he’s gone for a long time. ‘Tis why we lived in the cottage south of Ayr. He wanted me available whenever he came in on his ship. The vessel would sail to the pier in South Ayrshire, then move on toward Glasgow. He would get off and spend a few days with me, then move on. ‘Twas never as bad as this, but it has never been happy. Robbie, what can I do? I hate him. Please help me.”

“’Tis why I am here. Come with me now and I will help you find your girls.”

“Nay!” She shoved his chest.

“Shush, lass. Do you want to be heard by the staff?” Robbie whispered.

Her hands came up to cradle her face as she shook her head hopelessly. “Nay, but I can’t risk it. What if we couldn’t locate my daughters? I could lose them forever. He would kill them if I wasn’t here. He hates children.”

“Lass, listen to me. We’ll find them first.” He took her hand in his, tugging it away from her face.

A small flame of hope burned inside her at the thought of being rescued and protected by Robbie. “Aye, that could work.”

“But the lassies may not be willing to come with me.”

“Gracie loves you. You’re the only man she has ever willingly allowed near her. She will go with you. I know it in my heart. Please, Robbie. Find them first, then come for me.”

Robbie tucked her in close, apparently weighing the information she had given him. She couldn’t lose her girls, but if Robbie managed to find them, they might have a chance at happiness together.

He reached down and cupped her face, kissing her tenderly, the kind of kiss that she would dream of and hold close to her heart in the days to come. He kissed her as if he had strong feelings for her, as if there was more to her than pleasing a man with her favors.

“Fine, lass, we’ll try it that way. If you’re in trouble, send a message to the priory. I will stop there occasionally to check. He does allow you to leave the house for worship?”

“Aye, with an escort, but I do go to the priory where you brought me.”

“Then send a message through the nuns or the guards, and I will find you.”

One more chaste kiss on the lips and he was gone. She licked her lips, wanting to savor the taste of the one man in her life she trusted and loved. Sneaking over to the window, her gaze followed the Highlander as he slid down the stone wall, landing as quietly as he had climbed. At the bottom, he glanced up and flashed her a quick smile before he disappeared into the night. Aye, she was desperately in love with Robbie Grant. But naught could come of it, she was sure.

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