Page 20 of Bride takes a Scot (Highland Vows & Vengeance #1)

A t the first sighting of his fief’s gates in the distance, Declan gave a nod of thanks to God for his safe return. Though he hadn’t experienced any threats on his trek home, he was tense from being so vigilant. Confounded to learn that he shared an enemy with Campbell, especially after he’d learned that someone—one of his own men, perhaps—was trying to kill him, Declan sensed danger. He felt peril awaited him behind every tree, beyond every hill, and in every glen. The hair on his neck had prickled so many times, his skin tingled and although he’d kept a keen ear for sounds of followers, he grew watchful. The view of his gate allayed him and the tenseness in his shoulders ebbed. His men rode ahead of him and he waited until they passed the threshold before he too passed.

By the gate, he saw his grandmother who ambled along the lane. She held a wad of cloth in her arms and smiled at him. He dismounted and stood next to her when she reached him.

“Ah, ye have returned. Your sweet lass will be gladdened.”

“How is my bonny wife?”

His gran petted his warhorse. “Claude said she’s with Noah at the loch and should return shortly. I vow she’s the only one who can bathe the lad. I was just taking some clean garments for them to change into.”

While he had his grandmother’s attention, Declan wanted to ask her about his parents. “Gran, did something happen years ago to cause a rift with another clan?”

“What do ye mean? We were always at odds with other clans. ’Tis the way of the Highlands.”

That was true enough, but it didn’t answer his questions. He needed more information. “Were my parents happy? I always thought they were.”

His gran shrugged. “At first, they were, but then after ye and your siblings came, there were times when I wondered if they detested each other. By the time your ma passed, they hardly spent any time together.”

“Did my da love her?” Declan tensed at asking such questions. He’d always revered his father and thought he was a noble man who cared for his family.

“He did at first, aye, but then I remember their rows. They fought and shouted. None were privy as to why they argued. I recall your da accusing his wife of cuckolding him. After that, my dear son became reserved. I tried to get him to talk to me, och he would not. I suspect your ma had relations with someone else and your da withdrew from much of the clan then.”

It couldn’t be true. “Who was she with? I disbelieve what ye are telling me.”

His gran set her feeble hand on his arm. “Your da never told me who it was. I speak the truth, lad. Your da, from what I sensed at the time, was brokenhearted by her deceit. Then your ma died, and he became even more withdrawn. The day he married that shrew, Helena, was a black day indeed, for she did nothing to bring about his happiness.”

Declan scowled hard, trying to recollect his younger years and the happenings then. “I wish I knew what happened betwixt them.”

His gran caressed his arm and shook her head. “Ye stayed in the barracks then, aye for your da probably did not want ye to witness their rows. Rarely did ye enter your da’s cottage after that.”

He dipped his chin, remembering how proud he’d been to be housed with the soldiers. “How did my ma die?”

“No one knows. At the time, the healer spoke of her weak heart, but there was no reason to suspect foul play.” His gran made a tsk -ing sound. “Why are ye asking such questions?”

“I only realized I did not know much about them.” That, at much, was true, and all he was willing to share with Gran until he’d gathered more information.

“’Tis best ye put them out of your mind. Ye are laird now, and our clan prospers.” She beamed up at him.

“Aye, my thanks, Gran.” Declan stood by the gate and watched his grandmother set off down the lane that would take her to the loch. He wanted to consider what his gran told him, but there was no time for that now. With his horse’s reins in his hand, he yanked them to get his horse to follow. But something caught his eye. Declan craned his neck and spotted Noah running toward the gate.

“DA…DA…DA!” Noah shouted.

Declan quickly mounted his horse and rode hell-bent toward his son. That his lad was alone outside the gates told him that something was terribly wrong. That, and the look of terror on his wee face. And the panic in his voice.

His voice! His son had spoken and called to him; Declan only just realized as he reached him. Noah spoke!

When he got to Noah, Declan halted his horse, then bent and lifted his son onto his horse. Noah shook in his arms and cried.

“Noah, lad, what happened? Are ye hurt?”

“Bel…la…Bella…” the boy gasped with panting breaths.

Declan’s heart fell to his stomach, which churned with sudden terror as if all of the danger he’d sensed that day had materialized there in one solid mass. “Isabella? Where is she?”

“Hurt…loch. Si…Si…” Noah held him as though if he let go, he’d succumb to the fear that gripped him.

Declan shouted for his men, turned his mount, and rode swiftly toward the loch. Near to the water, he dismounted with his son still in his arms. He placed Noah on the grassy bank. “Stay put, lad.”

What he saw sickened him. His stepbrother was holding Isabella under the water. Her long blond tresses floated on the surface, but she was still. Something within him erupted. Rage. Fury. Intense ire. Whatever it was caused Declan to pull his sword free and run at Silas. But his good sense overtook him before he reached the knave and Declan tossed his sword on the bank. Saving Isabella was more important than seeking retribution at this moment.

He raced into the loch, running hard to fight the hold of the water on his legs and feet. It seemed to take forever but probably was only moments—Silas didn’t even turn to look at him but continued to concentrate on his grim task.

When Declan reached his stepbrother, he shoved him aside and reached beneath the water for Isabella. He grabbed hold of her garment and pulled her to the surface. She didn’t appear to be breathing. It was just like Leona all over again, and for a moment, he saw both of his wives before him, still in the water.

Nay! He lifted her and rushed to the bank where he set her on the grass, spread her arms, and pressed on her chest. Hastily, he pushed aside the strands of her hair and knew only one way to get her breathing again. Declan rolled her onto her side, stuck his finger in her mouth, and forced her to gag. Water spewed out and she began coughing. Declan rubbed her back with forceful strokes to encourage her to inhale and yet expel the water that filled her lungs.

“Ye are going to be all right, lass. Take easy breaths.” Declan leaned over her and continued to rub his hand in a circular motion on her back. He couldn’t believe what had happened to her. “Where the hell is Lorcan? He was supposed to be protecting you!” Declan scanned the area, but his soldier was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he noticed his grandmother who reached the area and stood by with her hand on her heart, looking forlornly at the scene before her. His men, too, had begun to arrive and were gathered around in a protective ring.

At the same time, he saw Silas, scurrying away like the rat he was. Declan motioned to his men who stood beyond watching and waiting for direction. Four of his men formed a wall and wouldn’t let Silas pass them. Two others took hold of his arms and held him forcibly.

Noah pushed past the men, looking tiny next to the fierce warriors. But there was something about him now. The way he seemed to look past them as though everyone was gone, and it was only him and his son. He was present and here, involved in the situation. He reached Declan and touched his face while looking down at Isabella, his small face showing concern. “Da…” he said.

Declan pulled Noah into a hug and caressed his hair. “Noah, lad. Are you harmed? Did he hurt ye?”

“He…He pushed me. I fell and hit my head. I remember now.”

He wasn’t sure what Noah was trying to tell him. Declan pressed a hand on his son’s head again. It was a miracle. “What do ye remember?”

“Mama. I remember he came and…” Noah motioned to Silas. “She said no. But he made her swim. Then she stopped. He is a bad man.”

Declan had to clarify what his wee son was telling him. It was inconceivable, and yet he knew in his heart that it was true. “Silas intentionally hurt your mother?”

“Aye. She told me to run, to get ye. But he pushed me. The rock hit my head. I do not remember what happened after that. I think I fell ’sleep. But when I woke up…Mama…she floated in the water.” Noah sniffled and looked forlornly at Isabella. “Bella floated.” He paused. “Mama died. Is Bella going to die too?”

Isabella groaned and opened her eyes. “No, she is not,” she said with a raspy voice and rolled onto her back to give his son a little smile to show she was well, reaching out to take Noah’s hand.

“Bella!” Noah flung himself over her body and wept. Isabella wrapped her arms around him, and Declan could hear her sobbing. He wanted to weep as well, but anger had a hold on him, now that he knew his wife was alive.

And knew who had murdered his first wife.

Conflicting emotions—thankfulness and extreme rage—warred within him. Eventually, the knowledge that Isabella survived and that he had his son back made him realize what was truly important. He was grateful, above all. Noah had spoken—in full! And could hear and understand what had been said. God be praised. His son was healed!

“Lorcan,” Isabella said, sounding like a frog. Her voice rasped and she spoke so low, he almost hadn’t heard her. “He…was…there.” She pointed to a copse of trees a short distance from the bank.

Declan turned to look at his men. “Two of ye search for Lorcan. He should be there, by those trees,” he said. Then he returned his attention to Isabella. “Are ye all right? I cannot bear to see you like this…harmed.”

“Sorry,” she said with a small smile. Isabella continued to hold Noah and he continued to hold her. The three of them sat there for a long moment in silence, holding each other.

“Ye have naught to be sorry for, wife. I should apologize to ye for not being here, for protecting ye from that vile piece of cosh.” Declan gave her time to recover enough for him to lift her into his arms. “Noah, stand back, lad. I need to get Isabella back to the cottage so Edith can see to her.” His son stood aside and waited for him. Declan carried her and walked past his men who continued to hold Silas who struggled and looked sullen but didn’t raise his eyes as they moved by. “Have him taken to the pit. I will deal with him later.”

Anse appeared then, breathing hard. “I was helping in the fields. But Slone came and got me and told me that… I just heard that Isabella was…attacked. Is she all right? What happened?”

“She is well enough now. I will tell ye about it later. For now, see that Silas is put in the pit. Make sure he does not escape.”

Anse nodded. His eyes were hard as he peered over at Declan’s stepbrother. He growled, “I will watch the snake myself. Come and find me when ye are able.”

“Aye, Anse, I will. I need to make sure Isabella is warmed.” Even as he spoke, he felt her shiver in his arms and he tightened his grasp about her. “Then I will see to my…to him .” He couldn’t even bring himself to say stepbrother . The man was no kin of his and he would never say so again. He was vile.

Isabella trembled again. Declan tugged at his upper tartan and set it around her. “I am here, love. There is no need to be fearful now.”

She set her head on his shoulder and pressed her hand on his neck. “Declan.”

In no time, he reached their cottage, Noah trailing close behind. When they arrived, Declan forced the door open with his foot. He did the same to their bedchamber door and gently set Isabella in the center of their bed. His son didn’t leave them. Instead, he stood by the bed with wide, watchful eyes.

“Go, lad, and find Edith. Tell her Isabella needs her.”

Noah nodded and turned to leave the room. But then the lad spun back, raced to the bed, and jumped up to give Isabella a kiss on the cheek. “I will be right back!” he announced before he raced off to get Edith.

Isabella closed her eyes. Declan watched her chest rising and falling, so he didn’t fall apart as he suspected he might, otherwise. As he watched her sleeping and breathing, he couldn’t wipe away the thought that that despicable knave murdered his wife, hurt his son, and tried to kill his new wife. Wrath such as he never felt burned his eyes and tensed every part of him.

Edith rushed into the room, Noah on her heels, and her breath heavy from her mad dash. “Noah spoke to me! He told me that Milady was hurt. Laird, is she…?”

“Nay, she breathes. Silas tried to drown her in the loch. I was able to get her to bring up most of the water. I’ll have Lillith fetched so she can check her over. It’ll take the healer some time to get here. Will ye stay with her? I do not want to leave Isabella alone.

“I shall. Go on, Laird, I’ll see to her now. I shall bathe her, make her comfortable, and tend to her. Ye see to your duties.” Edith didn’t give him another moment’s attention when she began removing Isabella’s sodden garments.

“Come on, lad.” He put his hand on Noah’s shoulder and with hesitation on both their parts, they left the room. Together, they stood in the long hallway. Unable to stand still, nevertheless full of anxiety and feelings that made him want to run to confront Silas, but unwilling to leave his wife for long, he began to pace from one end to the other. It didn’t escape his notice that his son followed in his footsteps. The poor lad probably had the same feelings running through him. Imagine how he—and everyone, really—had ignored the lad, thinking him beyond sense or communication. Because of Silas. And all those years of thinking that Leona had drowned in a dreadful accident, when in fact she had been murdered.

The poor lass. And their poor son.

Declan couldn’t help but hold the culpability for her death. He should have known what was happening and protected her. And this day, if he’d dallied any longer on his trek home from the Campbells, he would likely be burying another wife.

More rage than he’d ever felt spurred him to breathe heavily through his nose so as not to punch a wall and perhaps frighten his son. With that thought in mind, Declan fisted his hands, tried to calm himself, and kept pacing with Noah as his shadow.

The door to his chamber opened and Edith appeared to stand in the opening. “She is not ailing, Laird, just tired from the excitement. Milady just needs a hot bath—not one in the loch—and warm garments. I shall ask one of the girls to heat up some water while I fix her a cup of warm chamomile with honey. That shall soothe her throat. Stay here until I return.” She hurried past him and didn’t wait for his response.

He looked down at his son, who peered up at him expectantly. “Well, then, lad,” he said, and lifted his son in his arms to give him a hug of comfort. As he did so, the lad wrapped his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist. Absurd how the gesture meant to comfort his son comforted him in return.

He peered into the bedchamber to see Isabella curled on the bed, apparently asleep. She wasn’t shivering anymore, at least, so he decided to leave her be while he continued to pace the hallway, holding Noah. More questions rankled him. Questions he would soon get the answers to, like was Silas behind the accusation that caused his incarceration? Was he the man behind the threat of trying to overtake his clan and the Campbells? He would question the knave as soon as Edith returned.

Finally, Edith returned with two servants. They carried buckets of warm water and Edith herself held an overlarge tray.

“My thanks, Edith, for your aid.”

“Worry naught for her, Laird. Go on with you now. I know ye have things to see to and Milady would not want ye to shirk your duty because of her.”

“Noah, stay here with Isabella. I will return as soon as I can.” He set the lad down inside the doorway. He brushed his hand over his son’s hair. “I will be back, lad. You stay here with my—with Isabella and Edith.” With that, he gave a look to Edith. She’d watch his son, he knew, as she nodded at his silent command.

Declan practically sprinted from the cottage to head to the pit. Behind the large stone building that housed the soldiers, it held the clan’s criminals. Rarely did they use it, but it was put to good use this day. Declan rounded the barracks and found half the men in his army standing guard. Anse bowed his head to him when he stopped next to him.

“Laird, he is in there but has not spoken,” Anse said and handed him his sword. “Ye left this by the loch.”

Declan wanted to keep hold of his sword, and his fingers tightened around the hilt. But he needed answers. It was best to conduct his questioning without a formidable mien and he sheathed his sword lest he be tempted to use it.

His men removed the iron grate at the top of the pit and pulled Silas from the deep hole by way of a rope that they had tied around his waist. When Silas reached the top, they dragged him until he lay before Declan’s feet. Silas’s hands and feet were bound. That wouldn’t do. Declan wanted to face his adversary with honor and wouldn’t strike down a man who was bound.

“Unbind him,” he commanded.

Two of his men used their daggers to cut the ties at Silas’s hands and feet. His stepbrother got to his feet to stand before him with hatred burning in his eyes. Declan probably wore the same look, but he tried to maintain a calm exterior. For now, he just wanted answers. He would get his vengeance once everything in the past—and the present—had been explained.

“Silas, ye will tell me truthfully… Why? Why did ye murder Leona? Why did ye try to murder Isabella?”

“Because I wished to hurt ye,” Silas ground out with venom in his tone.

“But there are many ways to hurt me. Why take the lives of two innocent women? Are ye that envious? Make me understand.” Declan was surprised that his voice didn’t falter when he posed his questions. Tears choked his throat like a fist.

Silas’s eyes flashed. “Ye do not deserve them,” he scoffed. “I saw how ye ignored Leona and now how ye do the same to Isabella. I only wanted their affection since ye cared not about them.” He appeared oblivious to the fact that Declan’s hand hovered over the handle of his sword. It would only take a false word or movement, Declan realized, before he drew his blade and struck. He took a deep, steadying breath.

“How I am with my wife should not concern ye. Ye, who are vile, willing to hurt a woman akin to the way you did Leona. Ye murdered her, drowning her in the loch, taking her life.”

“It could not be helped. She kept screaming. I could not let her call the guard. I had to stop her from screaming.” Silas pressed his hands over his ears and his eyes bulged as if even now he could hear her.

Declan felt no pity for him. “Are ye behind the accusation that caused me to be imprisoned in the king’s dungeon?”

“Nay,” Silas said assuredly.

“Tell me why I should believe ye.”

Silas gripped his hair and practically spit when he answered, “I speak the truth. Aye, I would make a better laird than ye, but I was willing to wait for it. I figured that eventually ye would make an enemy ye could not defeat.”

Declan scoffed. “Aye, so ye did not plan to do away with me to gain the lairdship? Were ye also intent to overtake the Campbells?”

Silas shook his head vehemently. “Nay, nay, why would I? I have no interest in the Campbell Clan. Never have I hoped to gain anything from the Campbells. I tell ye, I am not the accuser. I did not try to kill ye in the woods, and I am not trying to overtake the MacKendricks. Ye can either believe me, or not. I care naught.”

Declan drew his sword, and it sang its vibrant “ shhgging !” sound, scraping against the sharpener set in the scabbard. His prized weapon would seek his vengeance for him this day. Declan braced his legs and stood in an unmistakable stance with his sword pointed at the miscreant. His body tensed in anticipation of jumping forward to enact the one thrust—ending Silas’ life, once and for all.

He would kill the knave, but before he would, he wanted the answer to his last question. “Did ye leave a dead rat in my bedchamber?”

Silas laughed derisively. “Aye, aye. I hoped to frighten your wife enough to seek my embrace, but alas she did not.” He shrugged his shoulders. “What does it matter? Now either kill me or set me free.”

Declan’s hand gripped the hilt of his sword, and he used all the force within him to shove it through Silas’s chest. His stepbrother fell backward with a forceful grunt and blood pulsed from the wound with each beat of his dying heart, pooling in a great dark puddle on the ground next to him.

“Good riddance,” Anse said and spat on him.

The rest of his clansmen did the same, one by one passing their foe and showing the disrespect Silas deserved.

Declan gave his stepbrother a final stare before he said, “Have him taken to the ravine and tossed into it. He does not deserve a proper burial.”

He turned and began to walk slowly away, unsure if he felt vindicated. Had Silas spoken truthfully or not? Even if he hadn’t been Declan’s accuser or the traitor trying to overtake his clan, his stepbrother deserved to die for taking Leona’s life and trying to drown Isabella. Added to the years of difficulty his son endured…

Silas was now at unrest in Hell, where he belonged.

He raised his eyes to the sky. “Ye can rest in peace now, Leona, sweet lass. I have avenged ye.” With that, he lowered his head and drew a heavy breath. He heard the mumbles of approval and support from his clansmen and turned to find them nodding. Some had their heads bowed in respect of his words for Leona.

Anse stood with a bowed head and waited until he approached him. “Silas was a sneaky son-of-a-bitch. We did not know what he was up to. I was with the soldiers and because Lorcan guarded Milady, I did not worry for her. I should have put more men on her. God Almighty, what he did to her… I cannot forgive myself.”

He set a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “Do not hold yourself in contempt, my friend. None of us knew what Silas did to Leona or what he intended to do to Isabella. Where is Lorcan? I want to question him.”

Anse lowered his chin. “He is dead, Laird. Silas killed him with a dagger in his back. Lorcan probably never saw the attack coming.”

Another person to grieve, another person lost because of Silas’s envy and evil plans. “We will place him with honor, Anse. See the friar and Claude about burial preparations.” He sighed and lifted his chin with an effort. It had been a trying day, almost as difficult as one spent in battle. “Now, I need to see my wife.”

“Tell her I am sorry, Laird.”

“Nay, if ye want to apologize, Anse, ye should come and do it yourself but there is no need. Ye are not guilty of her attack. Isabella would not want ye to hold yourself accountable.”

“Nay, but I should have prevented it.”

“As should I have.” Declan understood how his cousin felt. The responsibility and safety of their clan’s men and women rested on their shoulders. That they had a villainous knave within their midst sat afoul.

By the time Declan had reached his bedchamber, his tension had eased, and he’d shaken off the torment of killing his foe. Quietly, he entered the room where he found Noah sitting next to Isabella on the bed. She was dressed in a clean nightrail and lay back against the pillows with her eyes closed. Edith was in a nearby chair. She, too, appeared to be sleeping. But as he drew closer to the bed, she opened her eyes and got to her feet.

Edith bowed to him. “She is resting now, Laird. I do not deem she suffered much. Ye were in good time to get her from the water. I shall leave ye but there will be a maid in the hallway. Shout if you need anything.”

“My thanks, Edith,” he said.

With that, Declan removed his boots and upper tartan, discarding both beside the bed. With haste, he washed in the basin, calming even further as the clean water eased him. He crawled onto the bed next to Noah and pressed a hand to his wee face.

“Da, Edith says she is well.”

“Aye, we are blessed that she is.”

Noah set his small hand in his and Declan peered at it.

“I am sorry, Da.”

Declan pulled his son across his chest. “Ye have no reason to be sorry. I think ye were brave, aye. Tell me what happened at the loch that day…the day your mother drowned.”

Noah sniffled and began to talk. Slowly at first, with hesitations and fits and starts as he seemed to search for words long denied him. But before long he was speaking freely, recalling in detail everything that had happened from the moment Silas had forced his mother into the water to when Noah was shoved away and fell.

Isabella opened her eyes but was silent. Instead, she watched them.

He returned her gaze. “Silas cannot hurt ye or Isabella anymore.”

“Where is Silas?” Isabella asked.

Declan reached across Noah and clasped her hand. “He is gone, love. Ye will never have to lay eyes on him again.”

“Gone?”

“He has been removed from MacKendrick land.” Declan wasn’t sure he should tell her the truth that the man was dead. She was a sensitive lass, with a Christian’s forgiving heart, and he wouldn’t have her grieving for the knave. If he knew Isabella, he suspected she would be in the chapel praying for the deliverance of the miscreant’s soul, and Silas didn’t deserve anyone’s prayers.

Noah swiped his hand beneath his nose. “There was someone else there, Da, the day mama died. I remember seeing a man standing by the trees watching.”

Declan peered at his son and tried to discern what he was saying. “A man? Who was it?”

Noah shrugged. “I do not know. He was not from our clan and wore a different color tartan. He had dark hair though, and I saw him talking to Silas before we walked to the loch, mama and me.”

So, the villain hadn’t worked alone. Declan wasn’t able to enjoy peace then. There was more to do. He nodded to him. “You did good, lad. If you remember anything else…or if you see this man again, you need to come and find me.”

“I will, Da.”

The need for vengeance would continue to plague him though because there was still one more knave to thwart—the dark-haired man who’d apparently watched Silas murder his wife. If only he knew who it was who wanted to overtake the MacKendricks and the Campbells.

Right now, however, Declan only wanted to hold Isabella and Noah. Vengeance needed to wait.