The Highlander’s Witch (6 page)

She nodded her understanding and looked back at the man. “Bennett.”

“Skye Bennett?”

“Yes.”

“What where ye doin in the forest, Skye Bennett?”

She looked around at the men gathered, a very scary lot, and wondered if they burned witches at the stake. Many excuses came to mind, but she never got away with lying.

“I can’t answer that.”

“Ye canna? Or ye wilna?”

Swallowing hard, she straightened her spine when her body trembled, surprisingly thankful for the comforting feel of the woman’s hand on her arm.

“I am not sure which works best in this situation, so either or, it doesn’t matter.” She turned red when her stomach chose that moment to rumble its loudest but she didn’t waver.

Much.

She wasn’t feeling well either.

The woman patted her arm before walking over to stand next to the man, speaking softly to him.

Skye couldn’t hear the words but it was apparent he didn’t agree with whatever she’d said because the woman laid her hand on his arm as she made one last comment, squeezed his hand, and walked away. She smiled encouragingly as she passed Skye.

“What where ye doin passin yerself off as a lad?”

Sighing, she locked her knees and squared her shoulders. “I did not pass myself off as a man. It was an assumption on your part.”

His eyes narrowed. “Ye covered yer hair an wore trews under yer cloak.”

Her vision blurred and she shook her head to clear it. “So? I didn’t dress like that to look like a boy.” She could hear her voice break even as it began to sound far away. This wasn’t good. “I was just trying to be warm.”

Things began to spin and she stumbled. Strong hands held her, and she tried to focus on the face but blackness overtook her.

Aiden looked at the woman before him and pondered a hundred different things at once. Her beauty, the proud way she held a body too voluptuous for a man’s piece of mind—wondering how he missed that—the valiant attempt to hide her exhaustion, and the way her eyes skittered when she spoke.

The last, and the fear in her voice when answering only certain questions, held his attention most.

Aiden frowned at her behavior. He watched as she shook her head as her face began losing color.

He pushed from his chair and took the few steps to her side, catching her as she collapsed.

As he carried her away, one of the men called out, “It may be a ruse, Laird Aiden.”

“Tis no like the lass can get far.” He threw over his shoulder without breaking stride.

Chapter Four
 

S
kye woke up disorientated. Blinking, she frowned at her surroundings, trying to bring the unfamiliar room into focus.

It took her a moment before she remembered everything that happened since she found herself in the forest.

“This cannot be real.” Groaning she pulled the covers over her head. “Maybe it’s a medieval fair type thingy.”

She waited a moment then peeked over the covers. “This so cannot be happening.”

Swinging her feet off the bed, she tested her balance and found that she felt a lot better. Looking down at the dress she still wore, she looked at the somewhat coarse material and saw the hand stitching.

“Okaay. So . . .” She let the word trail as she assessed her surroundings.

A tapestry hung over a tall narrow window that had no glass, furs covered the floor and a candlestick with a pewter holder sat on the bedside table.

“My first question would be; ‘
When
am I?’”

A knock sounded at the door. Skye’s gaze swung up as the handle turned and slowly opened enough for a girl to peek inside.

“Ah.” She saw Skye standing and swung the door wide. “
Tha
i
‘na
dùisg
.”

With an eyebrow raised, Skye watched as the girl, advanced in pregnancy, closed the door behind her and spoke slowly in English.

“Tis sorry I be, but I see ye be awake an thought we could visit a spell.”

Skye cocked her head, trying to follow the girl as she talked. When she understood the gist of the words, she smiled and nodded.

The girl let out a sigh of relief before waddling over to a chair and eased herself into it.

Sighing again once she was comfortable, she smiled at Skye’s curious look.

“I be Anna, Aiden’s sister an Collin’s wife.” She smiled and rubbed her stomach. “An this little one will be our first bairn.”

Skye smiled in return and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m Skye.”

“Aye, that I heard. Me brother said he caught ye sneakin around the woods.”

Before Skye could take affront to the accusation, Anna held up her hand.

“Doona worry yerself, me mother doesna ken ye to be of a bad sort. ‘Sides, ye dunno have the look about ye.”

Skye laughed. “Thank ye—you. I am going to take that as a compliment.”

The door opened and another girl came in bearing a tray loaded with food. Her hair was kept under a bonnet and most of her gown was covered with a white apron.

“I hope ye dunno mind, but I be hungry an thought ye wouldna bother breakin yer fast with me?” She winced before grinning at Skye. “Och, me poor feet. I ken they have to be there since they ache sorely, but I canna see them.”

“Maybe I can help?”

“Ah, lass, there beint anythin ye can do for me, tis just the way of thins, ye ken.”

Skye smiled and grabbed a pillow to place over her lap before sitting at the girl’s feet.

Looking up, Skye smiled and waited.

Anna sighed, toed off her slipper, and let Skye look at her feet.

“Swollen.” Skye stated in sympathy.

“Aye, an the pressure be a terrible feelin too.”

“A massage would help get the circulation going.” Skye began to massage the girl’s bloated feet and ankles, allowing enough of her healing powers to help.

Knowing Anna was a little embarrassed, Skye kept the conversation running smoothly. They ate and chatted about Anna’s mother being English and teaching them her native language as well as how Aiden became Laird when their father had been killed in battle before discussing Anna’s concerns over her pregnancy.

Skye shared how her own sister was pregnant and how excited she was to be an aunt.

“Is she skeert?”

“Skeert? Scared? Why?”

“Why? Because of the complications that arise.”

“Ahhh.” Skye nodded her understanding. “Yes, there could be that. But Sarah refuses to spend her pregnancy worrying over what might or might not happen.”

“Sounds like a smart women, yer sister.”

The door opened and Aiden entered, making the small room feel even tinier with his size.

He looked at the tray and then his sister.

“
Dè
tha
thu
a
dèanamh?
”

Anna smiled up at her brother, unruffled that he was questioning what she was doing, and gave her reply in English.

“I be enjoyin a nice speak with our guest.”

Aiden finally looked at Skye before returning his gaze back to Anna, also speaking so Skye could understand. “Ye need to be restin, sister.”

“I
am
restin, brother.”

Skye stiffened and stopped rubbing Anna’s feet when Aiden entered the bedroom.

Gently easing the girl’s feet from her lap, she scooted up and sat on the bed, doing her best to keep her eyes off him.

Skye was embarrassed that she had fainted and scared because he wanted answers she couldn’t give.

When he was finally able to escort his sister out, demanding she return to bed, Skye became nervous when he turned his attention back to her.

Acutely aware she was sitting on a bed, she hurried to her feet, realizing her reaction brought his attention to the same fact.

Gritting her teeth as he took in her appearance, she suddenly thought of how her hair must look and forced herself not to smooth the tousled curls, hating the flush that stole up her neck to her cheeks

When she backed up, he frowned before speaking. “The council has questions that ye will answer.”

“I don’t know what answers I can give that would help.”

“We shall see. Make yerself presentable an I will send someone to fetch ye.”

Too soon, Skye found herself back in the large room. The flames in the fireplace teasing her while she stood in the middle of a group of now seated men.

This time, all of them asked her questions with Aiden translating.

Her inability to satisfy them caused their anger to rise.

She told them she was born and raised in Salem—it being in Massachusetts was not something she cared to add. That she was twenty-three and no; she was not married. Her parents had died when she was young and an aunt raised her and her older sister.

However, the questions she would not answer riled them.

“Why where ye found near the border on MacGregor land?” They asked for the umpteenth time.

Before she could give the same answer, a man entered and approached Aiden whispering in his ear.

He pushed away from the long table and stood. “We must stop here an continue later.”

He repeated it in Gaelic for the council, further explaining that raiders had been sighted close to the outer gates. He turned his attention back to Skye and frowned at her.

“When we begin this again, ye need to ken the importance of yer answers, or the lack thereof.”

Skye was tired and her brain hurt from the unaccustomed worrying over the repercussions of what she could or couldn’t say.

In the end, all she’d really done was make them believe she was an enemy with something to hide.

The crackling of the fire drew her attention as the council disassembled. She went over and stared into it.

“Sarah?” She whispered tiredly. “C’mon Sarah, hear me.”

Grabbed from behind and pulled away, Skye lost her balance as she was twirled around.

“To the doogun with ye.”

Too afraid to protest, she still dragged her feet as panic rose in her.

Dungeon?
This
was
not
going
be
good.

The man took her around the corner to a dark alcove. It smelled of waste as he led her to the end, opened a door made of bars, and tossed her inside.

“Ye won’t be makin an escape from here.”

Too freaked out to utter anything more than a squeak, she stared as the bars shut and locked before the man ambled off, placing the key on a hook by an empty sconce.

With only the dim light from the fireplace glowing from around the corner, there was barely enough for her to see.

As her eyes adjusted, she saw the iron cuffs hanging from the walls across from her about eight feet away with something looking like a cot near the far left corner.

Squinting, she went over for a closer look but half way there, she heard the clitter clatter of rats scurrying about and she hurried back to the bars.

“I hate rats. I hate rats. I
hate
rats!” Skye muttered as she shuddered in disgust.

Pressing her back against the bars, she stared into the dim room barely bigger than a small storage space, hoping this nightmare would end soon.

A long time later, she heard a whine from the hallway behind her.

Heart pounding as she swung around, Skye relaxed when she saw Seelie, the injured dog, limping towards her with a chewed off rope around her neck.

Crouching down, she encouraged the dog to come near, her hand stretched through the bars.