The Betrayal Page 7

  “Is the laird taking you to his home to be his wife?”

  Flora’s words broke through Kylia’s reverie. She looked over in surprise. “Nay. I accompany him because he needs my help.”

  “How can you help such a great laird?”

  Kylia’s cheeks felt warm. What could she possibly say to this woman that would make sense? “I have certain gifts which the laird has need of.”

  “Gifts, my lady?”

  Kylia’s flush deepened. “I can see things.”

  “What things do you see?”

  “The past. Occasionally the future. It comes to me in visions.” She waited, afraid to breathe, for fear of this young woman’s reaction. Instead of the rejection she anticipated, the young woman accepted her explanation without question.

  Flora’s mouth was split by a wide smile. “Oh, my lady, my grandmother was also thus blessed. She told me, when she first met Ewald, that he would ask for my hand. Though I didn’t believe her at first, I was later persuaded just how wise a woman she was. Our family always knew that she had special gifts which the rest of us didn’t possess.” She looked down, avoiding Kylia’s eyes. “Since you’re blessed, could you tell me…” Embarrassed, she swallowed back her words.

  Kylia reached a hand to hers. “You needn’t ask. I can read the question in your heart. This will be the daughter you desire.”

  The young woman gave a soft laugh. “Not even Ewald knows about it yet. I wasn’t even certain myself.”

  “Believe it,” Kylia said gently, touching a hand to the young woman’s abdomen. “She will be a beautiful child, and will bring you much happiness in your old age.”

  “Thank you, my lady.” Flora clasped her hands together.

  As Kylia got to her feet and started toward Grant, she caught a glimpse of the young woman wiping a tear of joy from her eye and was forced to whisper a word of thanks to the Fates that had given her this strange gift of sight. Though such a thing set her apart from many, it was as much a part of her as the color of her eyes, or the texture of her hair. And not something she would ever care to deny. Though her family had been forced into exile because of their extraordinary gifts, Kylia wouldn’t change a thing even if she could.

  While Grant readied the cart for a journey to the distant village, Kylia took comfort in the water of the bubbling stream. It had always been her refuge and her greatest pleasure. Even here, so far from home, she felt connected as she stepped into the clear, cold water. As she splashed deeper she spied the fat salmon lurking in the shelter of submerged rocks. It took her less than a minute to snatch the fish from its lair and toss it onto shore. While she made several leisurely turns across the stream she caught sight of more salmon. By the time she walked from the water and hurriedly dressed, she was able to fill her skirts with enough salmon to feed them all.

  At the campsite Ewald lay talking softly with his wife. It was clear that he was in a great deal of pain, but he managed a smile as Kylia approached.

  “My lady. Flora tells me that I owe you my life.”

  “Nay, sir. If it hadn’t been for Lord MacCallum’s quick thinking, neither of you would have survived the fire. All I did was try to ease a bit of your suffering.” She knelt down and showed them her catch. “With such as this we’ll dine like royalty tonight.”

  “Let me help.” Flora knelt beside her and the two young women began scaling the fish before setting them to cook over the hot coals.

  From the ruins of the cottage Flora retrieved the remains of flour and sugar stored in a small dirt cellar. Soon the air was redolent with the fragrance of biscuits baking.

  By the time Grant laid down his tools and joined them, their mouths were watering.

  Though the fare was simple, they sat around the fire, savoring the food, and the chance to finally relax in one another’s company. Soon the children were asleep, tucked into the folds of Kylia’s cloak. Grant and Ewald shared sips from the jug of spirits, while Kylia and Flora drank strong tea and chatted softly as darkness gathered over the land.

  Later, as Kylia drifted off to sleep beside the fire, she saw Grant take up his vigil near the flock. Though she longed to join him, she was forced to give in to her weariness. She slept in the knowledge that he would keep watch through the night, and see to their safety. There was such comfort in the fact that this strong man was watching out for all of them.

  At first light Grant hitched his horse to the cart before helping Ewald and the children into the back, which was lined with Kylia’s cloak. Then he helped Flora up to the hard seat and handed her the reins.

  As the horse and cart started forward, Grant and Kylia urged the flock to follow, while they walked slowly behind, keeping an eye out for any stragglers.

  The journey took the better part of a day, and they reached the village of the clan Kerr shortly before dusk. Long before they arrived, men on horseback had spotted them. While some remained to accompany them, others raced ahead to carry word to their families that they were on their way. By the time they arrived, the entire village had assembled on the green to greet them with a feast.

  And what a feast. There were platters of mutton and fish, as well as a whole roasted stag. There were tarts and biscuits, and scones heavy with currants and berries. There were hundreds of questions, and warm embraces from the young couple’s family, as Grant and Kylia were warmly thanked for saving their lives and returning them safely to their village.

  Through it all Grant and Kylia smiled and acknowledged their words with as much grace as they could manage. But soon the heat and the food and the knowledge that they were finally safe had their eyes heavy and their heads bobbing.

  With much ceremony they were escorted to the finest hut in the village and taken to separate sleeping chambers, where they were helped out of their filthy clothes and into warm baths before being offered beds of softest fur.

  The women of the village vied for the honor of washing their clothes and preparing them for the morrow’s journey. But while the women chatted, and the men drank their spirits and spoke in whispers about the beautiful young woman and great laird who had rescued one of their own, Grant and Kylia were oblivious to all but the sweet dreams that played through their minds as they slept.

  “How can I ever thank you, my lady?” As the entire village gathered to bid goodbye to their visitors, Flora stepped forward to catch Kylia’s hand and lift it to her lips. “Without your kindness, we would have surely perished at the hands of the barbarians.”

  “I require no thanks, Flora.” Refreshed from her night of sleep, restored by the luxury of a bath and fine food, Kylia embraced her new friend. Her clothes, and even her hair smelled of rainwater and evergreen. Her smile was as bright as the sun. “I rejoice that you and your family are now safely home with your clan.”

  “That is my wish for you, as well, my lady. May you soon be safely home with those who love you.”

  Klyia thought about the sweet paradise she called home, and realized with a pang just how much she missed it. Though she had willingly undertaken this journey, her beloved Mystical Kingdom was never far from her thoughts.

  She accepted the hooded cloak from one of the women and tossed it over her shoulders before being helped into the saddle of Grant’s steed. After taking leave of all the men who stood in a circle, Grant pulled himself up behind her and caught up the reins.

  “Watch your back,” Ewald called, offering his hand in friendship. “The barbarians may come seeking revenge.”

  “I’ll take care. Now I must return to my own people, for I’ve been away from them too long.” Amid calls from the villagers, Grant flicked the reins and the horse took off with a flurry of hoofbeats.

  As they left the village behind, Grant couldn’t resist pressing his face to Kylia’s hair. It felt so good to be holding her again. To be breathing in the soft, womanly scent of her that had become such an important part of him on this journey.

  She turned her head slightly and found his lips brushing her temple. It was
a jolt to her system.

  “How far to your home, my lord?”

  “Another day.” His voice lowered with feeling. “Another night.” The thought of spending another night alone with her had his blood heating.

  Kylia felt the skitter along her spine and wondered, as she did so often, whether he felt such things, too. Or was it different for a man? Especially one as worldly as Grant.

  She glanced at his face, but could read nothing in his eyes. She turned her face to the wind and breathed deeply, filling her lungs.

  “Tell me about your home and family, my lord, for I’m eager to know all I can about them.”

  “I don’t recall my father or mother, since both died before my second year of life. But I’ve been told that my father was a great warrior. His name is still spoken with awe among our kinsmen. It’s said he was fearless in battle, and a fearsome foe to those who crossed him. Still, he was a fair man, and a kind one, who opened his home to widows and orphans.”

  “You mentioned an aunt who lives with you.”

  He nodded. “Hazlet, my father’s sister. She was betrothed to his trusted friend, Ranald. When both men died on the field of battle, she was filled with grief, and took to her chambers. But when Hazlet learned that my mother’s grief had brought the birth pains too soon, she went to my mother’s room and stayed with her—” his tone softened, and Kylia could hear the warmth of affection in it “—until she was safely delivered of my brother, Dougal.”

  “You love him very much.”

  “Aye. How could I not? He and I have spent every waking hour together since the day he was born.”

  She nodded in understanding, for it had been the same with her and her sisters. “And your aunt? Did she never marry?”

  “Hazlet’s love and grief were such that she would never permit another man to win her heart. She was nurse to Dougal, and trusted advisor to us both as we grew to manhood.”

  “She must be very proud that you have been elevated to laird of your clan, as your father before you.”

  He was silent for long moments before saying, “Perhaps, by the time I return, I will no longer be laird. The council of elders has the power to bestow the title on another in my stead.”

  “Would they do that without giving you the opportunity to speak in your own defense?”

  “I know not. But this I know. I would rather die than bring dishonor to my father’s name.”

  Kylia fell silent, for she understood the depth of his pain. The love she felt for her family was so great she would gladly face death over dishonor.

  It was, she realized, one more reason why this man had begun to mean so much to her. They shared not only a love for family, but also a fierce desire to do the right thing, the honorable thing, for the sake of those who loved them.

  Chapter Nine

  “Look, my lady.”

  They had been climbing steadily all day. Now, as they crested yet another hill and looked out over a Highland meadow, the sun was obscured behind a distant mountain peak. Fingers of mauve and orchid and deep purple slanted across the land, casting long shadows from gnarled trees and tumbled rocks.

  “Amazing.” Kylia’s voice was whispered, in deference to the majesty of the scene spread out before her. “There’s such a wild, primitive look to it.”

  “Aye. And always it stirs my heart.” Grant brought his mount to a halt and sat for long moments, drinking in the scene.

  At last he slid from the animal’s back before reaching up to her. He lifted her from the saddle and she felt the quick sizzle of excitement along her spine as his arms came around her. When he set her on her feet, she stood perfectly still, breathing deeply to clear her mind.

  He tethered the horse and removed the blanket roll from behind the saddle. “I’ll get a fire going, my lady, and then see about finding something to eat.”

  While he built a fire, Kylia forced herself to move. Needing something to do, she unrolled the fur throw, intending to shake it before spreading it on the grass. She looked down in surprise at the sight of several bundles inside. Unwrapping them, she let out a laugh of delight.

  “You’ve no need to hunt our food, my lord. It seems the villagers are still showing their gratitude, even though we’ve left them far behind.” She held up the first bundle. “Dried mutton. Enough for many nights. And in this…” She unrolled a second to reveal sugared scones. “They wanted to make certain we didn’t starve before arriving at your fortress.”

  “Such good people. They didn’t need to do this.”

  “They wanted to show how much they love you for saving one of their own.”

  He stepped back from the fire, brushing his hands along his tunic. “They love you as well, my lady.” The look he gave her was so hot, so fierce, it had her heart faltering. He touched a finger to her cheek. “How could they not?”

  That simple touch had her paralyzed. She forgot to breathe. Her heart forgot to beat as he stared down into her eyes.

  She wanted him to kiss her. Wanted it desperately.

  He seemed to consider it, before he abruptly turned away and removed the flask at his waist. Over his shoulder, he called, “I’ll fetch water from the stream while you uncover the rest of our meal.”

  She watched him walk away and waited for her heart to settle. As she began unwrapping the food, she pondered how she could possibly deal with these strange, new emotions that battered her. For so long she had lived a simple life in a calm environment. Now she’d been thrust into a world of violent, explosive emotions that had her feeling confused, troubled, throwing her completely off balance.

  She sat back on her heels and closed her eyes, picturing in her mind her family gathered around the table. The image had her smiling.

  “Oh, Gram. Mum. You both lived in this world before you returned to the Mystical Kingdom. You’ve experienced all these things. I need your wisdom now.” She lifted her head to the night sky and had to laugh at the clouds that looked exactly like Jeremy astride her winged horse Moonlight. There was his round little face, looking so serious. His little waistcoat flapping in the breeze. Another cloud rolled past, and she gasped as she recognized old Bessie, stooped over a kettle, stirring something. She could see clearly the apron tied around her thick middle, and the big wooden paddle she always used while cooking.

  These cloud formations were no accident. Kylia knew at once they’d been sent by her family to comfort her. She watched Jeremy drift higher and higher, until he seemed to touch the stars, followed by Bessie, who lifted her wooden paddle to wave.

  Kylia sighed. Both troll and hunchback had been mistreated in this world. But both had forgiven their tormentors, and spoke fondly of the many good people they had known. People who had given them aid and comfort and shelter in their time of need.

  By the time Grant returned from the stream, Kylia was kneeling on the fur, a dreamy smile playing on her lips.

  “You look happy, my lady.”

  “Aye.” She watched as he reclined on the opposite side of the fur and began to eat. “I realize that, despite the violence in your land, there is much to like, as well. There is such kindness in your people.”

  He broke open a scone and popped it into his mouth. “Not to mention some excellent cooks.”

  Kylia laughed. “Aye. There is that. Tell me about the cook at your fortress.”

  “Her name is Mester. She cooked for my father and his father before him. And she has cooked for my brother and me since we were born.”

  “Such a long time.”

  “Aye. And in all that time I’ve never known her to cook something I didn’t like.”

  “You must be easy to please.”

  “Or perhaps she is as gifted as you, my lady, and can see in my heart what I like before I tell her.”

  Kylia laughed. “If only it were that simple.”

  “Isn’t it?” Grant lowered his hand and set aside his scone, suddenly serious. “Are you telling me that you can’t see into my heart?”

  She sh
ook her head.

  He seemed almost relieved. “But you said you had seen me long before I came to your shores.”

  “Aye. For I have glimpses of the past and the future. But only glimpses, my lord. And not always when it is convenient.”

  That had him smiling. “I suppose it would be disconcerting to have a man’s face suddenly appearing in your line of vision.”

  “Aye. Especially when I might be swimming, or riding amid the clouds on Moonlight’s back, or even sleeping.”

  “I came to you in your sleep?”

  She looked away. “Many times.”

  He didn’t know why that should please him, but it did. “Did I ever speak to you?”

  She shook her head. “I never heard your voice until you washed up on our shore, but I…”

  A chilling cry sounded from the depth of the forest.

  Grant’s hand was at the dirk at his waist even as he got to his feet and spun around.

  “What was that, my lord?”

  “I know not.” He helped her to stand and led her away from the fire. “Keep to the shadows until I return.”

  Kylia felt her heart thundering as he walked away. Every minute that he was gone from her felt like an eternity. She imagined every sort of vicious creature lurking in the darkness, waiting to devour him. But as the silence stretched out, she began to fear that perhaps the barbarians had returned and had already attacked, leaving him alone and lying in his own blood somewhere in the forest.

  He’d ordered her to stay. But what if he needed her? What good would she do him here, cowering in fear?

  Just as she was about to follow, he stepped from the forest carrying a small bundle in his arms.

  “What is this?” Kylia peered down at a mass of blood and matted fur.

  “It appears to be a wolf pup. It must have wandered from the safety of its den and was attacked by a predator.” Grant laid the pup down on the fur throw and began to pour the contents of his flask of water over the wounds. He looked up. “Puncture wounds. Deep. From the talons of an eagle, perhaps. I doubt the pup can survive. ’Twould be best if I ended its misery quickly.”