Wild Highland Rose (Time Travel Trilogy, Book 2) (4 page)

Maybe there was a way out of this Scottish version of
Deliverance
, a hospital around the corner, or a nice cold beer.  Something that fit into his concept of reality.

"
We
'
d best get you back to the holding.  It
'
ll be dark soon.
"
  The first giant, the one they called Fingal, took a step toward him, and involuntarily Cameron stepped back. 
"
Allen, he
'
s your brother, perhaps you should help him.
"

Brother
.

The word washed over him and he waited for emotion, some connection to the big man striding toward him.  But he felt no sense of belonging or recognition.  The man was a stranger.  Again he moved backward, this time following his instincts.  The other man
'
s expression changed, his eyes narrowing in confusion and something else.  Wariness possibly.  It seemed there was intelligence under all that hair.

"
Marjory,
"
Fingal said. 
"
Perhaps you should be the one to help your husband.
"

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, a look of loathing crossing her face. 
"
I
'
m sure he has no need of me.
"
  Despite her words, she moved to take Cameron
'
s arm.

Her skin against his started pheromones firing. 
Husband
?  Yet another revelation.  He should have been put off.  After all he had no memory of the woman, and she certainly hadn
'
t bothered to hide her disdain for him.  But his body wasn
'
t listening to reason, and an absurd sense of elation swirled through his head.

He turned to say something, to explain that he had no brother, and certainly no wife, but before he could open his mouth, the ground rushed up to meet him, the world going suddenly black.

"
According to Grania, he's no' anywhere close to dead.
"
  Marjory paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, waving her hands to emphasize her words.  Not only was her husband not dead, he apparently had every intention of living a long and full life.  The man was invincible. 
"
With rest, she says he
'
ll make a full recovery.
"

"
Well I canna say the news pleases me, but at least it should pacify Torcall Cameron.  And quite possibly stop Allen
'
s rantings about a plot on his brother
'
s life.
"
  Fingal lifted his tankard, shooting the younger man an angry look.

Allen and his clansmen were seated at a table on the far side of the great room, clearly a separate camp from the boisterous Macpherson men sitting closer to the dais.  Their presence was a reminder that although in name she was still the mistress of her domain, in reality it was controlled by her husband.

Husband
.  The word settled bitterly in her throat. 
"
I wish he would have died.  At least we
'
d no
'
have the sword hanging over our head.
"

"
Nay.
"
Fingal shook his head. 
"
Twould be buried in our backs.
"

"
At least then we
'
d have done with it.
"
  She tried but couldn
'
t keep the anger from her voice.

"
Would that I
'
d have secured the fact then.
"
  Fingal
'
s face filled with remorse and Marjory was immediately regretful.

"
'Tis all right.  You couldna have known he still lived.  The man probably has a pact with the devil himself.  And you
'
re right, Ewen
'
s resurrection may calm Torcall.  At least until I can talk to my grandfather.
"
  Fingal exhaled slowly, the act telling.  Marjory
'
s stomach tightened. 
"
You have news?
"

"
Aye, the messenger arrived an hour ago.
"
 
He met Marjory's gaze, his eyes troubled. 
"
Yer grandfather is away from Moy meeting with the king.  It
'
ll be at least fortnight before he returns.  Probably longer.  Until then, I
'
m afraid we
'
re on our own.  Although we could send word to your cousin Iain.
"

Marjory waved a hand in dismissal. 
"
He
'
s only just married.  I canna ask him to come now.  Besides, without grandfather
'
s approval, there
'
s no
'
much he can do.  We
'
re better to try and hold things on our own.
"

"
I
'
ll abide by your wishes.
"
  Fingal dipped his head in submission, but Marjory knew it was an empty action.  Her captain loved her as a daughter, and he
'
d fight to the death for her, but he wasn
'
t the kind of man to acquiesce to a woman.  If he followed her wishes, it was only because he agreed with them.

"
I
'
ve lived with Ewen these last two years.
"
  Marjory gave Fingal a weak smile. 
"
I suppose I can manage a wee bit longer.
"

"
If Torcall has his way, it
'
ll be longer than that, and well you know it.
"

"
One day at a time, Fingal.
"
  She forced her smile to be more sincere, aware that Allen was watching.

"
Well, I still say the process could be hastened a bit if you hadna offered the man Grania
'
s services.
"

Grania was the local healer.  An old blind woman, she had a way with the sick that defied logic.  But Marjory was grateful for her gifts.  Indeed, without Grania all those years ago, many more Macphersons would have perished after Torcall
'
s attack.

"
I canna fault your thinking, Fingal.  But 'tis one thing if the man dies in an accident and quite another if we are responsible for his death.  I willna lower myself to the level of the Camerons.  There is such a thing as honor.  And the Macphersons are an honorable clan.
"

"Aye, 'tis true, more the pity."  Fingal threw himself down in one of the chairs by the fire.

Marjory smiled at him fondly.  He almost overwhelmed the chair, and it was a large one.  Fingal was well over forty summers, but he looked like a man half his age.  His thick, russet hair was free of gray.  He was a warrior through and through.

She sent a silent prayer of thanks heavenward.  If God kept count of good deeds, then Fingal was certainly in line for sainthood.  She flinched as he belched loudly.  Not that he embodied her idea of a saint.  She shook her head at her own flight of fancy and sat down on a bench.

"Did you find anything else at the site?"

"Nay, 'twas just as I suspected."  The older man took another swig of ale.  "The ledge collapsed.  It could have been the recent rain, or maybe just the result of time and wind.  There's no way to be certain of the cause, but I think we can safely say that it was an accident."

Marjory nodded, chewing on her bottom lip.  "Thank you for taking a look.  I'll rest easier knowing that I can defend myself against any accusations Torcall might level."

Fingal left the chair, moving to warm himself by the fire.  "Aye, best we
'
re ready for anything.  Torcall Cameron is a mistrustful bastard to say the least."

"
'
Tis more than that, and well you know it."  Much more.  Marjory sighed, knowing that she'd probably never truly understand the depth of Torcall's hatred or the reasons for it.  But she understood her own.  In an instant, a vision of her parents filled her mind.  She felt tears threaten as she saw them lying on the chamber floor soaked in their own blood.

With the fierce determination that had protected her over the years, she pushed the memory deep within her, shutting it out, keeping it locked away, and rose to join Fingal by the fire.  "Torcall hates Crannag Mhór and everyone who lives here.  He's made it quite clear that he'd sooner see his son married to a witch than to a Macpherson, particularly if that Macpherson is me.  So, he
'
ll no
'
easily be pacified.  He
'
s been looking for an excuse to break the agreement as desperately as I.  And he
'
s no
'
interested in peaceful solutions.
"

Fingal studied her face carefully.  Marjory avoided his gaze, afraid of what might be revealed if he looked too long or too deep.  The warrior shrugged.  "Well, then I guess we
'
ve reason to be glad Ewen lives."

"I've brought ye a wee bite to eat,
"
a voice interrupted.
"
Quit yer
blathering
blethering
and come to the table."  Aimil Macgillivray placed a large wooden platter on the dais table and looked at the two of them expectantly.  Her brother was the first to move, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of the meal.

"Ach, sister, my belly was beginning to think ye'd forgotten us."  Fingal threw a leg over a bench, straddling it as he reached for the platter.

"Stop that this instant, Fingal Macgillivray, this isna a stable.  Ye'll eat like a proper gentleman or ye'll no' eat at all."  She took the platter and firmly removed it from his grasp.  Fingal, like most of Marjory
'
s clansmen, wouldn
'
t recognize genteel behavior if it leapt up and bit him on the behind.

Aimil turned to look pointedly at Marjory, still standing by the fire.  "Come child, ye've been through much these past few days.  A husband dead and then no' dead," she said, adding what sounded like a mumbled slur on Ewen's heritage.

Marjory considered the notion that Aimil had blasphemed and quickly discarded it.  Aimil had watched over Marjory since her parents' death and at no time in all those years had she ever heard Aimil raise her voice, let alone curse.  It must have been her imagination, or more likely, an echo of her own thoughts.

"Come on, girl, the food's getting cold and ye know Aimil willna let me eat until yer seated."  Fingal stared longingly at the joint on the platter.

"
Well, I obviously can
'
t leave you to starve.
"
She sat at the table, her back turned to the Camerons.  A brave move to say the least, but also a way to put them, at least momentarily, from her mind.

Automatically, she reached for her
sgian dubh
only to realize she
'
d left the wee knife upstairs in the solar.
 
Not that it mattered, the little knife was of  no consequence.  It could never replace the one her mother had given her.

The one Allen Cameron had taken.

Aimil put a hand on hers.  "What's wrong, child?  Ye look as if you've lost yer best friend."

Marjory flushed.  "
'
Tis nothing, Aimil.  Only my
sgian dubh
.
"
 
She held out her empty hand, working to hide her feelings.  There was nothing to be gained in reliving the past.

"There, there, lamb," Aimil clucked, reaching over to squeeze her hand.  "I know ye miss your mother.  But what
'
s done is done.
"

"
You can use mine, lass.
"
  Fingal said, his mouth full of meat, completely oblivious to Marjory
'
s thoughts. 
"
I
'
ll use my dirk.
"
  He handed his
sgian dubh
to Marjory, a large chunk of rabbit still skewered on it.  The gravy left a greasy brown trail across the table.  Aimil cast her brother a reproving look, but held her tongue.

Marjory sighed, nibbling at the meat on Fingal
'
s knife, her mi
nd still on her problems. 
Ewen was alive which apparently was both a blessing and curse.  But at least it was a way to pacify his father.  For the moment.