Page 9 of Echoes of a Forgotten Warrior (A Highland Ruse of Love #2)

8

I t seemed that the Lovatts were just as lost as the Sutherlands, Blaire reflected as she listened to the conversations between the men in the Lovatt camp. Fortunately, there were no serious injuries among them, so she was able to treat them all in a short while. As well as that, she listened to their conversation about the ongoing battles between the two warring clans, as well as their many personal conversations about themselves as well as their families. It was surprising how much information they let slip during their casual chats.

She had always found that listening to people’s problems and talking through them was a very good form of therapy for them. It was always helpful for someone to bring their troubles out of the darkness and into the light of day. The men talked as if she were not there, and so relaxed were they in each other’s company that they might have been one big family.

Blaire was gathering some knowledge about the Lovatts now, and decided that they might not be the villains that some of the villagers in Rosskern made them out to be, although there were bad apples in every barrel, of course. She realised that many of the men did not believe in Connor’s guilt, and when she asked them why, she received the same answer over and over again.

“Connor Lovatt doesnae have a bad bone in his body, Mistress,” Duncan Black, an elderly man with sparse white hair and faded blue eyes, told her firmly. “He is one o’ the most honourable men I ever met, an’ I would trust him wi’ my life. I have watched him growin’ up, him an’ his big brother”—he pointed to Finian—“an’ ye couldnae hope tae meet a finer pair o’ young men anywhere. They are the best kind o’ people. Whatever the Sutherlands are sayin’ about young Connor is a lie, an’ we are a’ sufferin’ because o’ it.” He shook his head and growled in frustration.

Then he smiled and looked at the others. “D’ye remember the time Connor saved the life o’ that wee lass when she fell in the loch? She was only about ten an’ she had gone out tae picnic wi’ her family but had got herself separated fae them somehow. Anyway, she was throwin’ stones in the water an’ she waded too far out. She couldnae swim, an’ she was thrashin’ about an’ screamin’ for help. Connor happened tae be nearby an’ he heard her, then went intae the water an’ got her out. We came along just after that, an’ helped tae wrap her up in a blanket. The wee thing was freezin’ so he took her up on his horse an’ carried her away an’ back tae her people.”

“He must be an amazing man,” Blaire remarked, smiling. “People like him are few and far between, unfortunately.”

“He is,” Duncan agreed, then he said grimly, “An’ he will come back tae us, I know he will.”

“An’ what o’ you, Mistress?” a young, dark, handsome man called Iain asked, smiling at Blaire winningly. “I hear ye are a healer. You must have many interestin’ tales tae tell.”

Blaire returned his smile. At any other time, she might have been tempted to pursue a relationship with him, but now that she had experienced intimacy with James, no one else interested her.

“Interesting, yes,” she agreed, “but not always enjoyable or funny. I could tell you about all the times I have seen one of my patients die, or had to mop up blood off the floor, or listen to people screaming in agony.

I could tell you about the number of times I have had to listen to someone’s last breath or close a person’s dead eyes. Would you enjoy listening to stories like that?” She looked him in the eye and smiled in a challenging fashion. So many people liked to hear only about blood and gore, and although she had plenty of stories about those subjects, she was not inclined to tell them. She always felt as though she had failed the brave soldier who had died, or the young mother who had lost her life in childbirth and although most of the time nothing could have been done to save them, she always felt that it was her fault.

The young man looked away, but then Duncan spoke up again. “But ye must have some happy tales tae tell, Mistress,” he said. “I know ye deal a lot wi’ the end o’ life, but what about the beginning? Dae ye bring many children intae the world?”

“I do,” Blaire smiled widely. “And you’re right. It is always good to bring a child into the world. I think every new life is a sign of hope.”

“Indeed,” Duncan agreed, nodding. “Dae ye have any bairns yersel’?”

“I am not married,” Blaire answered. “And I have too much to do to even think about that possibility.”

“What a pity,” Duncan observed, laughing. “I am sure there are many young men that would love tae court ye. I must tell ye, Mistress Blaire, I like your way o’ lookin’ at things. It must be hard tae walk the middle ground between one side an’ another. I admire that very much.”

“Thank you,” Blaire said warmly. “I am on the side of the sick and wounded, and if you come to me with a broken leg I will tend to you before the man who needs me to stitch a cut on his arm, whether you are Lovatt or Sutherland.”

At that moment, Finian came back from his watch. He sat down beside Blaire and asked, “How was your food?”

“Delicious, thank you,” she replied. “It was a treat not having to cook for myself.”

“I thought all women liked cooking,” he said, frowning.

Blaire laughed. “There is a big difference between enjoying doing something and having to do it,” she observed. “There are many things I would rather do than cook.”

Finian poured them both a glass of ale and smiled at her. “You are a very unusual woman,” he remarked. “Most of the ladies I know concern themselves solely with how to impress a gentleman. Oh!” He realised how rude he sounded. “I did not mean to say you are running after men.”

But Blaire only laughed and put a hand on his arm. “I know what you mean, and I take it as a compliment. You are impressed with my mind, I hope.”

“As well as your beauty,” he answered, then realised how flirtatious he sounded. He opened his mouth to apologise again, but Blaire was shaking her head and smiling at him.

“You are a very attractive man,” she told him. “But that fact doesn’t mean to say that I want you to sweep me off my feet.”

Finian sipped his ale, and for a few moments there was a comfortable silence between them, then he sighed. “I wish I knew where Connor was,” he said sadly. “Even if I find he is dead—at least I would know.”

“But you don’t want him to be dead, do you?” Blaire asked, somewhat shocked.

“Of course not!” he cried. “I want him to be alive and well and furious at me for taking so long to find him. But I know he would have come home if he could, and that is what scares me. What if he died alone, with no one to help him? I cannot bear to think of it.”

There was nothing Blaire could say to this. She could try to cheer him up by saying that all would be well, but of course, she could not be certain that it would be. “You can only hope,” she said quietly. “Until you find some sign of him, there is nothing else to do. But try to think of the best outcome because there is no good in letting yourself sink into a pit of despair.”

“Easier said than done.” Finian’s voice was bitter. “I know you’re right, but it is so hard to be positive in these circumstances.”

Blaire studied him for a moment. He was a handsome man, with short black hair and deep grey eyes. His build was athletic rather than muscular, and Blaire could visualise him running for miles without tiring. Something about him seemed familiar, but she could not quite put her finger on it.

“Many of your men agree with you about Connor,” Blaire told Finian, hoping it would bring some comfort.

“And many do not,” Finian replied. He indicated two men sitting a little way away from everyone else talking quietly to each other. “Those two are convinced of Connor’s guilt.”

“Then why do you keep them with you?” Blaire was puzzled. “Are you not afraid they might turn on you?”

Finian smiled grimly. “They will not.” He was definite. “They know what will happen to them if they even try, but I am quite willing to let them speak their mind about it. They are free to say what they want about my brother, but not within my earshot. I would be very na?ve to think they did not discuss either of us behind our backs. Besides, I have enough loyal men to protect me.”

“That’s a very broad-minded attitude,” Blaire said admiringly. “And you’re right, I think. Many of your men speak very highly of Connor. I wish I could meet him if he is indeed innocent.”

For a moment, it seemed that Finian was going to explode into a rage. “He is innocent,” he said through gritted teeth, then his shoulders slumped, and he put his head in his hands. “I miss him so much,” he said, his voice cracking.

Blaire put an arm around his shoulders and her heart went out to him. “Cry if it will help you,” she said softly. “I often find that it does.”

“I should have been bringing Katrina back that day,” Finian told her. “This is all my fault. This whole stupid fight was caused by me.”

He looked so dejected that Blaire had a sudden impulse to hug him tightly to comfort him, but she refrained from doing so, knowing the assumption the men

would make. Instead, she said gently, “I think you’re being very hard on yourself, Finian. You were not to know what was going to happen that day,” she told him. “If what you say is true, and Connor did not kill Katrina, then someone else did, and that person, or people, are still out there.”

Finian looked up at her and gave her a faint smile. She was not Isla—nobody could ever take the place of the love of his life—but she was easy, agreeable company, the kind of person with whom he could enjoy a pleasant and intelligent conversation. Blaire would be a good friend, he thought, and something about her told him she would be a loyal one.

Just then, Finian yawned, and Blaire realised that they had talked half the night away. “You should sleep,” she told him.

“So should you,” Finian told her, then he saw her expression of apprehension as she looked around the encampment. He could not imagine how terrifying it must be for a vulnerable young woman to sleep amongst a crowd of men, let alone ones she had never met before.

“I can see you’re scared,” he told her. “But I promise nothing will happen to you because I will be looking after you, and you are much better off here than outside in the cold. I trust all these men around me; I have known most of them since I was in my teens.”

Finian stood up and went to fetch two warm blankets, one of which he spread out on the ground. “Lie down,” he instructed, before spreading the second one over her.

The ground was hard, but the blanket and the heat of the nearby campfire kept Blaire warm enough. It was not the bed she would have picked, given the choice, but it would have to suffice.

She noticed that Finian had made his bed a few feet away from her, and felt safer because he was there. Even though he had dropped off to sleep as soon as he lay on the ground, his formidable presence reassured her as she let her eyes drift closed.

A moment later, she opened them again, however, startled by something she had just heard.

“He is a traitor tae his family,” one of the Lovatt men said. “Look at a’ the trouble he’s caused.”

The other man grunted. “Aye,” he agreed. “I could have been sleepin’ in a nice soft bed now beside my wife instead o’ lyin’ here on this hard stony ground. Bloody eejit, so he is!”

Finian had told Blaire that not all his men agreed with him, but all of them were ready to find Connor, whatever their reasons. Even so, hearing them talking this way frightened her, but she was too exhausted to stay awake. She believed Finian when he told her that he would not let any harm come to her.

Gradually, Blaire drifted into slumber, and was immediately face to face with James, who was smiling at her tenderly while he caressed her cheek with his rough hand.

“Come back to me,” he said softly. “I miss you, my love. Come and share my bed with me again, and this time we can be one. Come and let me love you as I want to, as I need to, as you want me to. Please, Blaire.”

Then he captured her mouth with his and gave her a passionate kiss that thrilled her whole body and almost drove her senseless with desire.

She reached down between their bodies and found him once again swollen and rigid. This time, however, she did not let him hold back, and they became one for the first time. It was glorious, a delight beyond anything she had ever felt before.

Blaire woke up a while later, feeling surprisingly rested and energised. She did not remember her dream, but felt that something pleasant had happened during her sleep. Even the weather was delightful, even though it was cold. The sun was shining out of a clear blue sky, which was a very unusual phenomenon for the Highlands, especially during late autumn.

Blaire went to the nearby river to wash, accompanied by Finian, who kept his back turned while she was busy. He was both protecting her from harm and making sure she did not escape, Blaire knew, but she had no intention of doing so. She wanted to help in any way she could, but she also wanted to listen. The more she knew about the Lovatts the better, she reasoned, since she wanted above all to find Connor and reveal the truth behind Katrina’s death. Since any small scrap of information could be of use, she would make the most of the time she had with them.

When she had finished, she walked back to the camp with Finian, who was looking worried, Blaire thought. “Is something troubling you?” she asked gently.

Finian, who knew the power of a pretty face, a sensual body and an intelligent mind, smiled quickly. “No,” he replied. “I was just trying to remember the way my father taught me to catch trout without using a rod and line.”

Blaire giggled. “You mean tickling a trout,” she said. “It is quite easy when you know how to do it.”

“And do you know how?” he asked.

“I used to,” she replied. “One of the Rosskern men taught me.”

At the mention of the village’s name, Finian’s face hardened, then he chided himself; just because she lived in the Sutherland’s village did not mean she was loyal to them.

“Maybe you could try it again,” he suggested, grinning. “We have been eating a little meat and a lot of vegetables. Trout would be a treat for many hungry men.”

“I will see what I can do,” Blaire said, grinning, “but no promises, mind.”

“I have faith in you,” Finian told her, and she somehow had the notion that he was not merely talking about the fish.

After a light meal, they decamped and went back to a country estate just half a day’s ride from Strathburn. The Lovatts were known for stationing a bit portion of their army there as a defensive point. Blaire was shown to a pleasant bedroom and a place to mix her medicines and treat the sick and injured men.

“Do you not have your own healer here?” Blaire asked as she looked around her workroom. It was well-equipped with all the things she needed, as if someone knowledgeable in her trade had been there before her. “This place is very well appointed for a healer.”

“We had an older man called Brian Fairbairn,” Finian answered sadly. “He had been with us for twenty years or so, but one day he simply died of old age. That was two months ago, and we have been muddling along ever since, but we need an expert.”

He looked at her hopefully.

Looking around her at the big, airy room, Blaire felt anxious. Finian Lovatt was not at all what she had expected, but she still knew she would have to be careful if she was to carry out her plan. The first thing she had to do was find out as much information about Connor as she could, but she would have to do it very, very subtly.