Taken By The Highland Wolf (The Clan MacGregor Book 2) (3 page)

Early the next morning I stifled a wide yawn and balanced a large cup of willow bark tea on a tray as I quietly let myself into our injured guest's bedchamber. I had left Alastair to attend to the affairs of the day after we had enjoyed breakfast together in the great hall. Until things quieted down a bit, I didn't doubt that we would be seeing much less of each other.

"You're awake," I said in surprise as the door swung open to reveal our injured guest standing with his back to me, looking out the window.

He was wearing the freshly laundered plaid and shirt that I had laid out for him in case of such an occasion. Alastair had stripped the man of his clothing the night before at my behest and settled him properly into bed. It looked as if the long rest had done him some good.

"Are you sure you should be standing?" I asked.

"Probably not," he said with a smile, "but I wanted to stretch my legs a bit. Have ye been the one watching over me, then?"

"Yes. I am Glenna Gordon, and you are at Meggernnie Castle, as a guest of the MacGregor."

He gave me a stiff bow and shuffled over to the chair.

"Thank ye, Miss Gordon, for your hospitality. I am Camden Holme."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Holme, though I wish it were under slightly less painful circumstances. How are you feeling this morning?"

"The truth of it is not fit for a lady's ears, I'm afraid, but I'm sure that under your gentle care I will be feeling much better by the day's end."

I laughed at that and waved him off. Whatever else this man might be, he was a charmer, that was for sure. He had a fast tongue and a smooth way about him. I admired the fact that he could be in such good spirits after his ordeal.

"How is the pain in your ribs?" I asked. "Do you think they may be broken?"

"They're sore for sure, but not broken. I broke a rib once when I was younger. That's not a pain ye soon forget."

"How did it happen?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "I was young, maybe fourteen. My father had a stallion that he was trying to break in. A horse so spirited that I'm sure it was part demon. My father told me that I was to stay away from the beast until he was broken, and of course no young man with any sense of pride wants to be told that something is too dangerous for him."

"Oh, please, tell me you didn't," I gasped.

"Aye, I very much did," he said with a nod. "One afternoon when my father was away and I was to be at my chores, I snuck out to the stables, determined to ride the great brute. It took me longer than I care to admit just to get him saddled. I landed in the dirt more than once. By the time I had him out to the paddock, my resolve was set. I would ride him or die trying."

"It sounds like that was a very likely possibility," I said.

"Aye, it was. I swear, the horse lulled me into a false sense of ease, just so that I could climb up onto his back. The moment I was seated, he bucked wildly and tossed me off, then kicked me squarely in the ribs once I had landed. I barely had the strength to roll away. I was eventually found lying in the grass outside the paddock, while the horse stood by grazing peacefully, as if he hadn't just tried to kill me. My father was furious with me."

"And the injuries you suffer from today," I said, pointing to his face. "I take it they are not from another spirited horse."

The smile fell from his face and he shook his head. "No, they are not."

"Can you tell me what happened to you?"

"I was attacked on the road. The men were not known to me. And though it pains my pride to admit it, they overpowered me, robbed me, and left me for dead."

"Would you know them again to see them?"

"Aye, I think that I could identify them if they were before me."

***

I walked toward Alastair's study just as the door opened and Mr. MacAlpin walked out. His mouth turned down in a frown upon seeing me and he nodded curtly in my direction.

"Miss Gordon," he said tersely.

"Mr. MacAlpin. I hope that all is well."

"No, Miss Gordon, it is not. But I'm sure that the MacGregor will tell you all about it shortly. Now if you'll excuse me, I must be on my way."

"Have a good day," I told him as he brushed past, bumping into me but not stopping to excuse himself.

I sighed and tried to forget about the encounter. I had enough to worry about without adding the magistrate's rudeness to my pile.

I knocked on the study door then poked my head inside. Alastair was sitting in his chair with his feet up on the desk. His eyes were closed and he was running his hands roughly through his hair, a sure sign that Mr. MacAlpin had brought him bad news.

"May I come in?" I asked quietly.

He opened one eye to look at me, and I saw a bright flash of emerald green before he closed it again.

"Aye, love," he said wearily. "I could use ye if you've got the time."

"What's wrong?" I asked as I closed the door behind me and crossed to the large leather chair opposite his desk. "I just met Mr. MacAlpin in the hall. He was looking even more dour than usual, as amazing as that may seem."

"I cannot blame him for it today, lass. He came here with grave news today."

My stomach clenched at his words. I already knew what he as going to say, though I prayed I was wrong.

"There's been another murder, hasn't there?" I asked quietly.

"Aye, there has. A young woman this time."

"Was it done in the same way? With the fur?"

"Yes, it was the first thing they looked for." His feet dropped from the desk onto the floor and he fixed me with his piercing gaze, frustration in his eyes. "Someone is trying to send us a message, and I'm worried that I already know what it is."

I started at him. "Really? What do you think it is?"

"I don't think there's much chance of it being a coincidence with the fur. I've a feeling that someone may have learned of our secret."

"But how can that be? Your clan has done everything it can to ensure that the secret of your true nature is never revealed."

"Then why the fur, Glenna? What other meaning could it possibly have, if not to taunt us with their knowledge of our curse?"

"If they believe that they know the truth of you and your people, then they take an awful risk with their actions. Why would they risk trying to kill someone who could transform into a giant beast at any moment?"

"I dinna know. But somehow they were able to accomplish the task and kill not one but two of my people. Whoever this person is, they are cunning."

"Alastair, we must find them. We must find them and stop them before they kill again, or the villagers will start to panic. They may even turn on each other in their fear."

"Aye, lass. We won't stop searching for those who did this. And when I find them, they will see justice at the end of my sword."

I stood and walked around the desk to take his face in my hands.

"I know that you will put a stop to this," I told him, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me down onto his lap.

"Kiss me again for luck," he said, and his hand wrapped around the back of my neck and pulled me close.

I wound my arms around his neck, and my breasts pressed against his hard chest as his lips met mine for the second time. I sighed as our kissed deepened and let our problems fall away, taking a moment to simply enjoy the nearness of him.

Our embrace was interrupted by a knock on the study door and I hurried to remove myself from Alastair's lap. While all of the castle occupants knew of our love for each other, it would do us no good to be found in such a compromising position.

"And where do you think you're off to so quickly?" he asked as he made a grab for me to tug me back down onto his lap.

"You're needed," I said, swatting at his hand as I sidestepped out of his reach.

There was another knock at the door, this time more insistent.

"I'm not here!" Alastair shouted through the door to whomever was on the other side.

He stood up from his chair and came toward me with determination in his eyes, but I rushed for the study door before he could get his hands on me again.

"Away with you," I yelped. "You've work to do and no good will come of you trying to put it off."

I reached back and groped blindly for the door handle, finding it just as a knock came for the third time. Standing up on my toes, I grabbed Alastair by the shirt and pulled his face down to meet mine, giving him a hard, swift kiss.

"I'll see you soon," I told him, then pulled the door open.

A thoroughly disgruntled older man stood on the other side of the door. He raised his eyebrows upon seeing me and struggled to conceal the smile that was tugging at the corners of his mouth behind a dour scowl.

"Hello, Donald," I said with a laugh.

"Well, then, now I know why I've been all but ignored," said Donald.

I could feel Alastair still hovering behind me, and I looked up to see him glaring at Donald.

"If you're feeling neglected, old man," Alastair said, "then feel free to go somewhere else. I'd hate for ye to stay where ye dinna feel welcome."

"Chief or no, there are times my hand itches for the days when I could take it to your backside," Donald told him.

"I dinna doubt that for a second, Uncle," Alastair said with a wink. "Good thing I've grown too big for such treatment, aye? For I doubt my being chief alone would be enough to deter ye for long."

Donald grunted and I stepped aside so that he could enter the room.

"I'll see the both of you a bit later," I told them.

"Aye, love, have a good afternoon," said Alastair.

"I had meant to tell ye that ye look quite bonny today, lass," said Donald.

I took Donald's hand in mine and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. He had been the first of the MacGregor clansmen to show me kindness on the night my Uncle Dougal had traded me to Alastair in exchange for a promise of peace, and I had come to grow even more fond of the older man during my time with them.

"Thank you, Donald. That's very sweet of you to say."

The older man flushed bright red and cleared his throat, waving away my thanks. With a smile to Alastair I slipped out the door, leaving them to discuss their business in peace.

"Are you sure you're quite ready for this, Mr. Holme?" I asked for the third time as our horses walked along slowly side by side, away from the castle. I knew that I was being overly cautious, but I couldn't help but watch his expression for any sign of pain or discomfort.

"Aye, Glenna, dinna fash yourself. I'm feeling stronger than I look, I promise ye that," he reassured me.

It was a beautiful summer day, and after a week of forced bed rest, Mr. Holme had been quite insistent about his need to get out of the castle for a bit of fresh air. My suggestion of a short walk around just outside the keep had been thoroughly and emphatically dashed, with him preferring to go for a ride instead.

I couldn't help but feel like his request was dubious at best. While the bruising on his face and ribs were fading, they still looked painfully sore. From the first day Mr. Holme had been brought to the castle I had felt responsible for him, and I didn't want to do anything that would slow the progress of his healing.

I had given his description of the attack and his assailants to Alastair, who had then added it to his ever-growing collection of clan responsibilities. Alastair had confided in me that the chances of finding the men who had done this were very slim, as they could have moved out of the area immediately.

With everything that had been going on, I was furious about the lack of justice I was seeing. Was everyone to get away with their unspeakable crimes, sneaking off like cowards under the cover of night? In the past few months I had seen more ugliness in the world that I ever had in my entire life. I had never considered myself overly sheltered or protected from the realities of life. But these days, my life before my uncle Dougal had betrayed me seemed to be a long stretch of sweetness and ignorance.

At least my uncle had paid for his crimes in the end. Even if it had been with his life.

Mr. Holme and I rode until we reached a wide, clear expanse of the glen.

"This is a beautiful area," he remarked, looking out over the gently sloping hills.

"The Gordon lands have always filled my heart, but when I first came to Glen Lyon I didn't think I had ever seen a place so beautiful as this," I said with a wistful sigh.

"Would ye like to stop here for a while?" he asked. "It's a lovely enough spot for our lunch."

"You're right," I agreed with a nod. "This is perfect."

We climbed down from the horses,  Mr. Holme moving with some stiffness, and unpacked the saddlebags. Together we spread out the extra plaid we had brought along to act as a blanket and unpacked the food we had packed.

As we arranged ourselves on the ground, I spread out the light fare of cold meats, cheeses and bread around us before revealing the bottle of wine.

"What's this, then?" he asked with a smile.

"I thought to bring it along so that we could celebrate," I told him.

"And just what is it we're celebrating on this fine afternoon, Miss Gordon?"

"Your health, of course. If that doesn't deserve celebrating, I don't know what does."

"You've a kind heart, Miss Gordon. I couldn't have been placed in better hands."

I could feel the warmth creeping up my neck at his flattery. "I didn't do much for you, truly."

"Ye kept me company and eased my pain. Ye took me in and watched over me." He reached out and took one of my hands in his. His eyes were riveted on mine and his gaze was intense, as if pleading with me to accept the sincerity of his words. "I am grateful to ye, Miss Gordon, for all that you've done."

"You're very welcome, Mr. Holme," I said softly, touched by his heartfelt declaration. "I'm glad that I've been able to be of some comfort you."

"It would please me greatly if ye were to call me Camden."

"I would like that as well. And you may call me Glenna."

He leaned in closer with a wide smile on his face. "I've been wanting to call you Glenna for days. You've a lovely name."

I laughed and removed my hand from his, slowly becoming aware that he had been holding it for a bit too long.

"Well, then, you can thank my grandmother, as I was named after her," I told him.

"I did have a question that I was thinking to ask ye, if ye don't mind."

I shrugged my shoulders and selected a small piece of cheese. "I suppose that all depends on what your question is," I said, then popped the morsel in my mouth.

"Fair enough," he said with a laugh. "I was wondering how ye came to be at Maggernie Castle."

I stilled and looked out over the long stretch of rolling hills, thinking carefully of how to answer the question. "I am a guest of the MacGregor. He and my father made a political arrangement ensuring peace between our lands," I explained.

"Ah," he said, his shoulder slumping ever so slightly. "So it's an arranged marriage, then."

"Not quite," I said with a smile.

He smiled at that. "I know it's dangerous of me to say it, but I must admit that I'm glad. I can't imagine how a woman as sweet as ye could be given to the MacGregor to wed. The man has a fearsome reputation. I have worried, these past few days, to think of ye under that man's control. I've yet to be introduced to him, but I can't say that I'm very sorry for it."

"He would never hurt me," I told Camden. "You needn't worry yourself."

"How can I not? Ye know as well as I the tales that follow that man. Every person in the highlands knows the kind of man he is. I would not see you fall victim to his foul temper."

I lowered my eyes and said nothing. I knew that Camden had nothing but true concern in his heart for me, but it still saddened me to hear the words. No matter how much I wished to correct him about Alastair's nature, it was not my place to do so. In fact, to disabuse Camden of his misplaced notions could do disastrous harm not only to Alastair but the entire MacGregor clan.

The stories and legends about the chiefs of the MacGregor clan went back farther than anyone could remember, and Alastair continued to cultivate them even to this day in order to protect his clan's most carefully guarded secret. Which meant that no matter how much it hurt my heart to say nothing, I could not speak out against Camden's beliefs regarding the man I loved.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I've upset ye, haven't I?"

"No, it's not your fault. It's a complicated situation."

"Well, you've a friend now, for as long as I'm here. I promise that I'll let no harm come to ye, Glenna."

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and blinked back the tears that were threatening to surface. It felt so dishonest to deceive him this way when all he wanted was to look out for me.

"And you, Camden? I never did ask what brought you to Glen Lyon," I said, trying to change the subject. It was a clumsy attempt at best, but it was better than nothing.

"I was on my way home from visiting some cousins. I wanted to see something new and decided to test my luck by cutting through the MacGregor territory."

"And just look at how that turned out for you. Not quite the type of luck you were looking for, I suppose."

He reached his hand out as if to caress me, but stopped himself before he made contact.

"I would say that my rash decision was well-rewarded."

I blushed and looked away. I knew that I should say something, find some way to tell him that I was not free to give him my affections. It would be cruel of me to let him think that I was open to his advances. But there was nothing I could tell him that could be explained. Secrets upon lies—it was a horrible way to start a friendship but there was nothing else that I could do.

I would just have to find a way to discourage him without revealing the true nature of my relationship with Alastair. Camden would never understand, and more than that, the intimacy of my relationship with Alastair was enough to ruin me and destroy my good name. My love for him and my unwavering faith that we would eventually find a way to one day be wed were the only things that gave me strength enough to not fear the potential consequences of our actions. But we knew better than to flaunt our impropriety, even though the knowledge that we were not exactly chaste was probably the worst kept secret in all of Scotland. Though I knew it was cowardly of me, I did not want to risk learning how Camden would view me if he ever found out. It pained my heart to know that he would undoubtedly think less of me for it. The worst part was that I knew I wouldn't be able to blame him for it. Not one bit.

***

The next day I took Camden with me on my trip into Fortingall. He had insisted on coming with me when I had stopped to look in on him that morning. His movements around the bedchamber had been sure-footed and didn't seem to cause him any pain, so I couldn't see the harm in his coming along. Alastair had always insisted that I take one of his men along with me when I went into the village anyway, and with Camden coming along I didn't have to worry about taking anyone away from their regular duties so that they could escort me.

When we got to Iona's small house, Camden took the basket that I had packed for her with food from the kitchen at the keep. It would be nice to visit with both of them for a while.

I knocked on Iona's door but there was no answer.

"Maybe she's not home?" said Camden.

"That would be strange. I come to visit almost every Tuesday afternoon. She would be expecting me."

I knocked again and waited, but there was still no answer. Worry began to grow inside of me and I bit my lip as I considered what next to do.

"Do you think we should test to see if the door is locked?" I asked him.

Camden looked at me in surprise. "Don't ye think that's going a bit far? She's probably just stepped out. You're worrying yourself for nothing."

We turned to head back to the horses but I paused after a few steps to look back at the house.

"I'm sorry, Camden, I can't go yet. I have to know. She's elderly and lives all alone. What if she's fallen and needs help? I should at least look in, just on the off chance."

He nodded to me and started back toward the house. "All right, then, if you're sure."

"I am."

I tested the door and it opened easily.

"Iona?" I called, sticking my head through the doorway.

"It doesn't look like there's anyone here, Glenna. Let's go," he said, looking around the room.

"Not yet," I told him.

I pushed the door open and walked inside the house. The front room and kitchen were completely empty so I walked toward the back of the small house, where Iona's sleeping quarters were.

"Iona, are you home? It's Glenna." The door to her room was closed and I knocked on it softly. "Iona, are you in there? I'm coming in."

I opened the door to see Iona lying on her bed with her eyes closed.

"There, ye see?" said Camden from behind me. "She's sleeping. Now come away before ye wake her."

I stood rooted to the spot as I looked at Iona. Something was wrong. She was lying on the bed on top of her bedclothes instead of under them, fully dressed and with her shoes on. I walked into the room and a cold sweat broke out on the back of my neck. Iona's chest was perfectly still, when it should have had the steady rise and fall of breath.

I stood by her bedside and looked down at her. Her eyes were closed as if in sleep but her mouth was slightly ajar, with a tuft of fur protruding from between her lips.

I let out a muffled cry and turned away, burying my face in the protection of Camden's chest.

"My God," he said as he looked down at her. "Come away now, Glenna. Ye should not be here to see this. We must go at once."

I shook my head, pressing myself closer to him, unable to stop the tears that were streaming down my face. Iona had been one of the few friends I had made since coming to Glen Lyon. Though old and all alone, she had been a wise woman with a strong heart with many years left in her. For that time to be snatched away from her in such a cruel way was beyond comprehension.

Camden pulled me from the room and out of the house. I followed him on unsteady legs, the world around me a faint blur.

"This is three," I groaned.

"What?" asked Camden. "What do you mean?"

"Iona was not the first. This was the third time. The third... murder," I explained.

"There is a known murderer on the loose and ye came into the village today? Are ye mad, Glenna? What were ye thinking?"

"I was thinking about my friend!" I snapped at him. "What if I hadn't come today? Who knows how long it would have taken someone to find her. We don't even know how long she's been d-dead for," I stuttered, the tears coming harder again.

"There, now," he said, pulling me into his arms and holding me tightly. "That was insensitive of me. Of course ye wanted to look in on your friend. You've the heart of an angel, Glenna Gordon, and she was a lucky woman to have had ye for as long as she did. We'll make sure that she's seen to. Let's go tell the magistrate what's happened, then. He'll need to know."

I nodded and backed away from him, sniffling gently and brushing the tears away from my eyes. There would be time to mourn her later, but for now I had to let  Mr. MacAlpin know that the murderer had struck again.