Page 14 of Intrigued By A Highlander (Highland Revenge Trilogy #2)

CHAPTER 14

B y the time they made camp that night, Dru was frustrated. Beyond frustrated. She was weary from the day’s travel, her body aching from riding too long, and her patience had worn thin. But what irritated her most was Knox.

He had barely spoken a word to her all day. When she’d attempted conversation earlier, he’d silenced her with a curt, “Be quiet, I’m thinking.” And when she had tried again, he had responded with nothing more than an indifferent grunt.

That had been the final straw.

“Do you ever intend to talk to me again?” Dru demanded, her arms crossed firmly over her chest as she stood near the fire, glaring at him.

“When necessary,” he said, his tone as indifferent as the look in his eyes. He unfurled his blanket on the opposite side of the fire, clearly intent on putting distance between them.

She narrowed her eyes. “Oh, so now I don’t even get the privilege of sharing your warmth?”

He ignored her jab. “Make your own bed. We sleep separate from now on.”

She huffed. “But it’s cold, and?—”

“Good night,” he said sharply, cutting her off as he dropped down onto his blanket, his back to her.

Dru clenched her jaw. “Fine. I don’t need you,” she muttered, though the words rang hollow in her ears.

She didn’t like how easily he could cast her aside, didn’t like how it made her feel—alone. So, what if she was on her own again? It was her way of life—alone—and would always be. She was a fool to think it could be any different. A fool to think someone would care for her, someone would love her.

She forced her chin up, refusing to let the sting of rejection settle too deep. Gathering her own blanket, she spread it on the ground, grumbling under her breath as she settled in. She pulled her wool cloak tightly around her, grateful for the warmth, yet it did little to block the chill seeping up from the cold, unforgiving ground.

Sleep came in fits and starts, the cold keeping her restless. She curled in on herself, shifting repeatedly, trying in vain to find a position that offered even a sliver of comfort.

“Bloody hell, what’s wrong with you?”

Knox’s deep, exasperated voice cut through the night, yanking her from the light doze she’d managed.

Dru had had enough. “The cold eats away at me, I can’t sleep, and you are bloody heartless!”

“Aye, I am,” he agreed without hesitation, his voice firm, almost warning. “And that would be a good thing for you to remember.”

She barely had time to process his words before he stood abruptly, snatching his blanket off the ground. He crossed the fire in two strides, his imposing form casting long shadows in the flickering glow.

Before she could protest, he threw the blanket over her and then—just as swiftly—dropped down beside her, sliding under it as if he belonged there.

Dru barely had time to react before his strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against his solid, heated body.

“Now go to sleep,” he ordered gruffly.

She sucked in a breath, startled, but the warmth was immediate, deliciously soothing. His body heat seeped into hers, melting away the lingering chill. She shifted slightly, adjusting, nestling into him as if by instinct.

“Lie still,” he snapped.

The harshness of his voice and the tension in his body warned her not to push him further. She went still, though a small, satisfied smile tugged at her lips as warmth—his warmth—wrapped around her completely. Sleep claimed her quickly.

Not so Knox.

For him, the night would be long.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, something was changing between them. He didn’t understand why he cared for her. Maybe even loved her, if that was what he was feeling.

And despite Dru’s repeated insistence that she wanted no husband, that she didn’t want him… it was becoming harder to ignore that whatever had taken root between them, they were both fighting it.

And losing.

“I’m not feeling well, Knox,” Dru said.

He figured she was up to something but when he glanced down at her, she looked pale.

“What’s wrong?” he asked suddenly concerned.

“My stomach. It feels like it’s going to revolt.” She rested her hand upon it.

“The village is just up ahead. I’ll get you help there.”

Dru nodded and when she rested her head on his chest with a moan, Knox grew worried.

He urged Star to pick up her sedate pace, but it only had Dru moaning more frequently.

They weren’t far from the village when Dru looked up at him, her face so pale that it frightened Knox.

“You must stop now. Please,” Dru begged.

He didn’t argue. He brought Star to a halt and got Dru off the mare. As soon as he did, she hurried to nearby bushes, bent over, and purged herself of whatever was in her stomach.

Knox walked over to her, but she threw her hand back warding him off.

He felt crippled with helplessness as he paced not far from her. When she straightened and turned, her body weaving as if she was about to collapse, he rushed and scooped her up. He sat her under a tree, its branches bare.

“I’m cold,” she said.

He hurried and got the two blankets off his mare and tucked them around her.

“I finished the last of the meat this morning. It must have gone bad,” she said, resting her head back against the tree truck. “You need to leave me here to rest and go ahead without me.”

Knox shook his head. “Not a bloody chance that I’m going to leave you alone and vulnerable, where anyone can come across you.”

“Place me where no one can spot me,” she suggested.

“Nay, I will wait until you feel better, and we’ll ride to?—”

Dru gagged. “Don’t even mention riding to me. Go find out what you can and come back for me. Hopefully my stomach will have calmed by then.”

“I will not leave you like this,” he insisted.

“Be reasonable, Knox. Let me rest and do what needs to be done before Phelan and his men descend on the area.”

She was right but he didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to leave her alone, unprotected, especially with her feeling so unwell.

“The faster you go, the faster you can return to me,” she said. “Now find a safe place to hide me.”

“I don’t like this,” he protested.

She cracked a small smile. “You mean you don’t like that I’m right.”

“There is truth in that,” he said, his smile brief and the first since leaving the abbey.

Reluctantly, he roamed the nearby area, then returned to Dru to lift her gently in his arms. “I found a thick growth of foliage where you won’t be spotted.”

Her head dropped on his chest as if it was too heavy for her to hold it up and he grew even more concerned for her. He quickly saw that she was settled safely and comfortably, lying her down on a bed of leaves so it would keep the chilled ground directly off her.

“Rest and remain quiet. I will not be long,” he said and leaned over her to place a kiss on her brow.

Dru grabbed his hand before he could move away from her. “Be careful and come back to me.”

He kissed her brow again. “Always.”

The village was small, barely more than a scattering of cottages nestled at the edge of the woods. Smoke curled from a hole in the various thatched roofs, many in need of fresh thatching. A few villagers moved about, tending to their daily chores, though most paused to watch as Knox rode into the heart of the settlement.

He kept his eyes steady on all who glanced at him, and they quickly turned away. Conversations halted. A woman stopped mid-step, clutching a basket of turnips a little too tightly. A man stacking firewood straightened, his movements slowing as he stared.

Knox pulled his horse to a stop near what looked to be the village’s gathering place, a modest stone building with a sagging thatched roof.

As soon as he dismounted, an older man, thick in the shoulders and wrapped in a well-worn woolen cloak, stepped forward, eyeing him with mild suspicion. His face was weathered, deep lines carved around his mouth and eyes.

“Not often we see strangers here,” he said. “What business do you have?”

“I’m looking for someone,” Knox said evenly. “A woman named Autumn. She once lived not far from here.”

Silence.

Knox could feel it settle over the villagers like a heavy cloak. No exchanged glances. No murmurs. Just a quiet, unspoken understanding passing between them.

The man’s brow furrowed. He exchanged a glance with another villager—a stout woman carrying a basket of freshly washed linens.

“You’re too late,” the woman said with a glance at Knox. “Tell her, Wilbur. Tell her Autumn vanished.”

Wilbur crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. “Vanished just like Rona said. More than a year ago. Left without a word.”

Knox’s jaw tightened, though his expression remained unreadable. “No one’s seen her since?”

A younger man, barely more than ten and four years, leaned against a nearby post, his face half-shadowed by a mop of unruly brown hair. “Some say she ran off in the night. Others say she didn’t leave at all.” His voice held a note of unease.

Knox’s gaze sharpened. “What does that mean?”

Wilbur shot the boy a sharp look, but the young man only shrugged.

“Strange things happen in those woods,” the young man said. “Folks hear things—whispers in the trees. Some claim to see shadows moving where no shadows should be.”

Rona shook her head. “Enough of that nonsense, Owen.” She turned back to Knox, her expression stoic. “If you’re looking for her, I doubt you’ll find much more than an empty cottage.”

“Is her cottage empty or does another occupy it?” Knox asked.

“No one goes near it,” Owen, the young man, said as if in warning.

Knox looked at Wilbur, wanting to hurry this along and get back to Dru. “Where can I find it?”

Wilbur hesitated before nodding toward the tree line. “Follow the path that brought you to the village. Watch for a large, thick oak tree when you come around a bend. Turn on the path you see there, probably grown over by now. It’ll take you there.”

Knox nodded. “Thanks. Has anyone else inquired about Autumn?”

They all shook their heads.

“There is a reward offered for her,” Knox said, looking from one to the other. “Dead or alive, it doesn’t matter.”

That caught them by surprise, clearly upsetting them.

“Lord Torrance searches for her, doesn’t he?” Wilbur asked and when Knox nodded, he shook his head.

“He can’t find what’s not there,” Owen said.

“How well did any of you know her?” Knox asked, needing answers yet needing to get back to Dru.

Rona shrugged. “She didn’t visit the village often but when she did, she was pleasant enough. She and her mum stayed mostly to themselves.”

“Do any of you know about a healer who befriended Autumn’s mum?” Knox asked.

“That would be Mave, but she’s no longer here,” Owen said.

Knox sought clarification. “She died?”

Rona shook her head. “Mave moved on. Claimed trouble was coming this way and she didn’t want to be here when it arrived.”

“Do you know where she went?” Knox asked.

The three shook their heads as Owen spoke. “The woods whispered her up.”

Knox sensed that they were trying to scare him away. “Are you saying she disappeared like Autumn?”

“Gone suddenly, not to be seen again,” Owen said.

Knox didn’t believe him. “And where can I find her cottage?”

“Don’t know,” Rona said and the other two nodded, agreeing. “Mave showed herself when she wanted to, when she sensed she was needed. We didn’t need to know where she lived.”

“Then how do you know she’s gone?” Knox asked.

Wilbur was quick to answer. “She hasn’t been seen in quite a while even though some have needed her healing skills.”

Knox reached into the folds of his plaid and pulled out three coins, handing one to each of them. “I appreciate the help.”

Their eyes turned wide, and they nodded to him and thanked him profusely.

When Knox turned to mount his mare, Wilbur spoke up.

“Have your look and leave right fast,” he urged. “Mave was right. Trouble is brewing and it’s about to erupt.”

He rode out of the village, uneasy glances following him. They were hiding something. He could feel it. And he intended to find out what it was.

Dru cuddled in the blankets to chase away a chill that wouldn’t leave her. She had rid herself of the last of what was in her stomach and worried that she may have taken too much wolfsbane to purposely make herself sick. She was known in these parts, and she needed to avoid running into someone that could present a huge problem for her.

When she had no choice but to wed Knox, she had convinced herself that she would find a way to see the task done. That they would need to travel here was inevitable and here was where she hoped this would be settled, since here was where Autumn died. Once he learned of her death, it would be done—their agreement fulfilled. That meant their time together would be finished and her heart ached at the thought.

She was a fool. She had known Knox for barely half of a moon cycle and she believed she had feelings for him—could possibly love him. Her mum had warned her about love striking fast and hard, crippling the heart and blinding the senses. Only to wake up too late to the cold, hard truth. Besides, there was no way that she and Knox could ever be a true married couple. It was impossible and she had to accept that.

Tears that had gathered in her eyes began to slip down her cheeks and she let them fall. She let herself mourn the life she could never have. She hurried and wiped them away when she heard the approach of a rider. She fought back the tears and kept as silent as she could, hoping it was Knox and not a stranger.

The horse came to a stop near the bushes, and she held her breath for a moment.

“Dru.”

She expelled the breath and a few lingering tears slipped down her cheek.

Knox ducked and stepped past the bushes and felt a punch to his gut when he saw the tears trickling down Dru’s cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, rushing to her and dropping down beside her.

“My stomach does no better and I grow colder,” she said, and it made no sense, not after her musings, to say more, but she did. “And I feared you wouldn’t return to me.”

Knox wiped away her tears with a gentle swipe of his finger. “I am a man of my word, wife, and when I tell you that I will always return to you, I mean it.”

She forced a faint smile.

“I found out the way to Autumn’s cottage and that it’s empty. You can rest and heal there while I make more inquiries.”

He tucked the blankets around her before lifting her into his arms and he soon had them up on his horse. He didn’t waste any time in following the directions the old man gave him, and he was right, the path had been reclaimed by the forest, but not enough to prevent him from traveling it.

Even without care, time hadn’t worn the cottage that was larger than he anticipated.

“I can manage. You don’t need to carry me,” Dru said, when he brought his mare to a stop.

“It’s not a chore to have you in my arms.”

His words touched her heart as did his gentle smile.

Knox dismounted, then lifted her off the horse, her hands going to rest on his shoulders as he did. Her touch went weak after barely laying her hands on him and he watched her turn a deathly pale.

He rushed to cradle her in his arms and into the cottage, kicking the door open. He looked around a generous-sized room and spotted a narrow bed tucked in the corner. Then he spotted another door on the opposite side of the room and kicked that one open to find it had a bed large enough for two people. He hurried and placed Dru on it, surprised the bedding wasn’t dusty and that the blankets appeared freshly cleaned. Had someone finally occupied the place? He had no time to think on it, though he kept it in mind in case someone should show up.

“I’ll get a fire going in here,” he said, seeing the small hearth, the size sufficient to heat the room.

Dru nodded, turning on her side and fighting back more tears as he got busy starting a fire in the hearth. Her heart felt as if it was being torn apart, the pain was so grievous. She thought she could avoid this or at least manage the grief. But memories assaulted her, happy ones and unbearable ones. But worst of all was the thought of what Knox would do when he discovered the woman—Autumn—he searched for… was his wife.