To Love A Highlander (Highland Warriors Book 1) Page 23

“It seems that she is pleased that Innis Lockerbie is here,” Dylan said as he kept even strides with Craven. “Though I cannot say the same for you.”

  Craven grumbled and scowled, and Dylan laughed. His scowl deepened when he saw his wife rush into Innis Lockerbie’s arms and they hugged each other tight.

  It was with a stern tongue he shouted out his wife’s name. “Espy!”

  Her smile never faltered when she turned and waved with enthusiasm at her husband. “Come and meet my best friend from when I was young.”

  “A wee lass,” Innis confirmed, “and a stubborn and inquisitive one at that.”

  That Innis knew more of Espy than Craven did annoyed him to the point he felt the beast grumble deep inside him. But it did help that Innis was not a young man, though he did have fine features and appeared trim and solid for a man who had to be at least fifty years. He was taller than most men, though not as tall as Craven. His reddish brown hair was shoulder length and sprinkled with gray. He wore a plaid of dark green and brown colors and an equally dark green shirt.

  “That has not changed,” Craven said, coming to stop by the pair. “And she is no longer a wee lass… Espy is my wife.”

  “You are wed? How wonderful for you!” Innis hugged her again, then stretched his hand out to Craven. “Congratulation, Lord Craven.”

  Craven shook the man’s hand and was impressed by his strength and his obvious joy for Espy.

  “Espy would tell me how the man she would someday wed would be special and she would love him with all her heart. I am glad she found her special man.”

  The beast grumbled inside him. He was not that special man or was he? Espy made it clear to him that she loved him. He did not understand how she could love him, perhaps she did not understand herself. Perhaps she simply accepted and embraced it. Perhaps it was all fate’s doing.

  “What brings you here, Innis?” Craven asked and glanced at his wife who remained tucked in the crook of the man’s arm and looked much too comfortable there.

  “I came in search of Espy,” Innis said, his smile widening when he glanced down at her for a moment. “I was always intrigued by her father and mother’s stories of the Highlands and especially of Cyra, Espy’s grandmother. I recall William telling me how knowledgeable the old woman was about plants. I decided that I wanted to learn about them for myself, having seen the success William had had with his plant concoctions, and since I am not getting any younger, I decided to make the journey.” He looked to Craven. “I was hoping I could offer my services to you, Lord Craven, in exchange for a place to reside while here.” He turned a smile on Espy. “But you have no need of me, having Espy here.”

  “Nonsense,” Espy was quick to say. “An extra hand is always welcome.”

  “That is kind of you, Espy, but the decision rests with Lord Craven,” Innis said with a respectful nod toward him.

  Espy went to her husband’s side and coiled her arm around his, hugging it tight. “My husband is a wise man, and he would not turn such a generous offer away.”

  “Espy, go see that food and drink is made ready for Innis while I have a word with him,” Craven ordered.

  Espy’s eyes narrowed. “You are not going to frighten him off, are you?”

  Craven turned a warning scowl on her, but she ignored it and went right on talking.

  “I have not seen him in years, not since—” Her eyes suddenly popped wide and she squeezed her husband’s arm. “MacBarnes. Innis was at MacBarnes’ funeral.”

  Innis nodded. “I was and it was the last time I saw you, MacBarnes’ having finally succumbed to his lingering illness. Many of his colleagues had not expected MacBarnes to last as long as he did and that was thanks to your father’s treatment, not that anyone would admit it.”

  “You can confirm that Samuel MacBarnes is dead?” Craven asked, glad that there was someone and that he would not have to rely on a missive alone to confirm that his wife had told the truth.

  “Aye, I remember that day well.” Innis bowed his head a moment and when he raised his eyes to Espy they were pooled with tears. “Your parents succumbed a year later and within four months of each other. I am so sorry I was not there for you. I did not receive the news in time to return home from France and when I finally did arrive home, I learned you had gone home yourself.”

  “Cyra was all I had left,” Espy said.

  “No longer,” Craven said firmly. “You have me now and the whole MacCara clan.”

  “I am happy for you, Espy,” Innis said, “but, if I may ask, why do you need confirmation of MacBarnes’ death?”

  “The physician Edward MacPeters claimed that MacBarnes blended herbs for him and that was impossible with MacBarnes having been dead at the time,” Espy explained.

  “Edward MacPeters?” Innis asked, his brow scrunching.

  “You know MacPeters?” Craven asked, hoping perhaps that Innis could shed more light on the man.

  “I know he is dead over a year now.”

  Chapter 26

  “Do you know what happened to the actual MacPeters?” Espy asked.

  “From all accounts he suffered an accident while on a trip to the Highlands. It seems that a Highland chieftain had tempted him with a goodly sum to treat his wife and he simply could not refuse it.” Innis looked from Craven to Espy and back to Craven. “You are the chieftain that sent for a physician? But why when your wife is an accomplished healer?”

  “MacPeters was meant to tend the birth of my first wife, Aubrey,” Craven explained.

  “Espy was not here at the time?” Innis asked, though did not give anyone a chance to respond. “That is a shame since she has far more experience with births than MacPeters ever did.”

  Espy’s innocence in his wife’s death was being confirmed more and more and it appeared more and more that someone had wanted Aubrey dead.

  “Was MacPeters death ever confirmed?” Craven asked.

  “That I do not know,” Innis said. “I was told the tale after I made it known that I was traveling to the Highlands. I heard countless tales about MacPeters and those tales grew with each telling. Some said that he and those with him were attacked and killed by Highland heathens, their bodies left for the creatures of the forest to enjoy. I was warned that the same fate awaited me if I was foolish enough to go.” Innis smiled at Espy. “I paid no heed to their ignorant rhetoric. Espy spoke often of the Highlands and not only of its beauty, but of its dangers as well. I am well aware of both.”

  “The Highlands and Highlanders themselves are not always hospitable. Since you are a friend of my wife’s, you are more than welcome here. And as my wife said, an extra hand is always helpful,” Craven said and enjoyed the smile it brought to his wife’s face, though it was her hand slipping into his and giving it a squeeze that pleased him the most.

  “I am most grateful, Lord Craven, and I will do my best to serve you well,” Innis said with a respectful bob of his head.

  Espy jumped in. “You could help by looking upon the face of the dead man and seeing if he is familiar to you.”

  Innis looked to Craven for consent and it made Craven respect the man even more.

  “My wife speaks my thoughts before I can,” Craven said.

  Espy laughed softly. “Is Lord Craven not lucky to have such a wife who knows him so well that he does not have to waste words on her?”

  Innis gave a brief laugh. “I have missed your wit and logic, Espy, and I am pleased you have found a man who loves you for who you are.”

  Loves you.

  Espy’s smile grew upon hearing those words, thinking that perhaps Innis saw what Craven had yet to admit, but could not help to show.

  Craven on the other hand ignored the older man’s observation or at least he attempted to since it was difficult to dismiss the swell to his heart upon hearing it.

  “I will be only too glad to see if the dead man is familiar to me,” Innis said.

  The three walked to the shed where the body was being left until burial,
Espy much too curious to be left behind.

  Innis spoke as soon as he laid eyes on the wrapped, dead body. “That is not MacPeters.”

  “You have not seen his face,” Craven said.

  “I do not have to. MacPeters was a short, portly man, and this man is not. Therefore, it cannot be MacPeters,” Innis explained.

  Craven revealed the dead man’s face. “Is he at all familiar to you?”

  Innis stared briefly, then shook his head. “I have never seen him before.”

  Espy stepped forward. “We have asked far too much of you after such a long journey. You need food and rest.”

  “I would not object to both.” Innis scratched his head, his brow scrunching. “I must admit though, I am curious as to why someone would pose as a physician.”

  Craven wondered the same and he intended to find out.

  “You will remain here until I return for you,” Craven ordered, reaching up to take hold of his wife’s waist and lifting her off Trumble.

  Espy kept her hands on her husband’s arms when her feet touched the ground. She loved the feel of his warmth and strength and found any excuse to place her hands on him. Not that she needed an excuse since he had encouraged her touches with his own. “I am eager to have my grandmother meet Innis and to visit with her. You will be safe where you go?”

  That she worried over him warmed his heart, though he was also aware that she was curious as to his destination, especially since Dylan rode with him. The matter was more pressing anytime the two of them rode off together.

  “I learned early this morning that Warrick’s warriors have moved their camp to MacCara land. I go to speak to them. I do not expect any problems. Warrick’s warriors will do nothing until they receive word from him.”

  Espy stretched her head up to press her cheek to his and whisper, “Keep safe, for I have grown accustomed to having you as my husband, and I do so love you.”

  Craven felt the all too familiar tug to his heart that had been growing stronger every day since she had first admitted her love to him. He wondered how long it was going to take him to admit he loved her as well. It was bittersweet to realize he could love again after Aubrey and that was the problem. He felt by loving Espy he was betraying his love for Aubrey. Or was it guilt for failing to keep her safe?

  He had no words for Espy. He wished he did, but words failed him. He could not tell her he loved her when he had yet to admit it to himself.

  Espy stepped away from him and he reluctantly let her go.

  She waved to Craven as he and his warriors rode off and went to join Innis and her grandmother who were already talking. She counted the warriors Craven had left behind as she approached the pair—six—not an overabundance, which proved he was not too worried about their safety.

  A smile brightened her face as she heard Innis chatting with her grandmother. It had been two days since his arrival and after a day of rest and settling him into a dwelling of his own, he was eager to meet Cyra, and Espy was just as eager to see her grandmother.

  Cyra spread her arms as her granddaughter approached. Hugging her close was something she had done since Espy was born and having her gone this past year, she wanted to get in all the hugs she could.

  Her grandmother looked good, but then she always did. Her cheeks had a good tinge of pink to them and her soft blue eyes, so much like her own, were bright and sharp, though she caught a sudden concern in them when Cyra looked to Innis.

  “I need a moment with my granddaughter, Innis, if you would not mind,” Cyra said.

  “Of course, take all the time you would like,” Innis said, stepping aside. “Do you mind if I wander through your garden? Plants fascinate me, especially ones I am not familiar with.”

  “Be my guest, though they are only seedlings yet. I will explain the properties of the unfamiliar ones to you as soon as I am done,” Cyra said.

  Innis nodded, smiling brightly as he scurried off like a child who had just received the most cherished gift.

  “He seems like a nice man,” Cyra said, hooking her arm in her granddaughter’s and walking away, distancing them from the Craven’s warriors.

  “Innis talked with me when no one else would bother with me and he encouraged my endless need to learn, sharing his own knowledge with me, and he remained my friend when others warned him to his distance from me. He is a good man and a good friend. But that is not what you wish to say to me, Seanmhair. Something is amiss?”

  Cyra kept her voice low. “That woman who claimed to be ill returned and asked for more of my brew, saying it had helped her. I doubted that since what I gave her would do little but warm her insides. I was more concerned with the way she looked around the outside of the cottage, almost as if she was expecting someone to show up. For some reason, I thought of the young woman who had come every other day to me, though I have not seen her lately and I am worried for her.”

  “I know her, but please do not ask me who she is or where she hides. It is best you do not know and it is best you know nothing about her. I went to her and brought her food, while it might not last someone else, she eats little so I imagine she still has food left. But I thought of going to check on her while I was here.”

  “Let me help,” Cyra said.

  “Not this time, Seanmhair.”

  “Then let your husband help you. He is a powerful man with powerful friends. He will see that the woman is kept safe.”

  “I do not know if that is possible,” Espy said with a heavy heart.

  “Trust him. He is a far better man than he wants to admit.”

  “That he is, Seanmhair, that he is.”

  “I will distract the warriors to give you time to sneak off. But do not linger, for they will look for you after a while,” Cyra warned.

  “First, I must let Trumble know he cannot follow me. With him remaining here, the warriors will not realize I have left.”

  Cyra nodded and they turned, Espy going to Trumble and Cyra going to Innis.

  Espy pressed her face to Trumble’s. “I must go and you must stay here. I will not be gone long. I will call out for you if I need you.”

  Trumble gave a brief snort and nodded, and Espy walked toward the cottage. As she did, Cyra cried out that she thought she saw someone at the edge of the woods. The warriors took off, though two stopped and looked ready to guard Espy when Cyra yelled out again.

  “Two more over there.” Cyra pointed in another direction and with the other warriors gone, the two quickly took flight.

  Espy wasted no time in hurrying away opposite them.

  She stopped after a good distance into the woods and listened. She always listened when she entered the woods. It spoke if one took the time to listen. A flurry of birds flying off warned of someone or thing in the area they wanted no part of. Voices carried in the woods and gave one time to hide. The ground trembled when a troop of warriors drew near and if there was complete silence, it was cause for worry, for it meant all went still out of fear.

  The scurry of squirrels at play, the tweeting of birds, and a soft whisper of wind with not a voice being carried on it let her know that she was safe to continue. Just to be sure, she stopped one more time before reaching the cottage and listened. Satisfied she heard nothing unusual, she continued.

  “Adara,” Espy called out softly when she reached the cottage and the young woman stepped around the side of the cottage the tree was growing out of. “I am sorry I have not been here sooner.”

  Adara dismissed her apology with a shake of her head. “I am fine.”

  “I worry that you may not be safe here,” Espy said.

  “Nowhere is safe.”

  “She is right about that,” a voice called out from the woods.

  Espy ran to stand in front of Adara, shielding her with her body and glared at the woman who stepped out of a dense part of the woods. She was of fair age, her features plain, and her long, dark hair braided tightly. Her skirt appeared to have been mended many times as was her blouse, while her b
ody looked in fine shape. She stood a bit taller than Espy and in her hand she held a dagger.

  “I knew if I waited hidden in the woods long enough someone would lead me to her,” the woman said.

  “What do you want?” Espy demanded, the only explanation why she had not heard the woman following her sending a sense of dread through her. It meant she was skilled at tracking someone, but why was she tracking Adara.

  The woman laughed. “Is it not obvious? I want her dead and now, unfortunately for you, you will be joining her.”

  “Why do you want her dead?” Espy asked, attempting to keep the woman distracted from her task while giving herself time to think.

  “That does not concern you.”

  Espy held her arm behind her, signaling Adara not to step past her, and she was glad she did when she felt Adara slip a large rock in her hand.

  “There are two of us and only one of you,” Espy said.

  The woman laughed again and reached behind her back, bringing out another dagger. “One for each of you. And so you know, I am extremely skilled with a blade.”

  “My husband is a powerful man—”

  “The beast does not frighten me. Besides, he will never know what happened to you. He will mourn you, though not as badly as he did Aubrey since he loved her more than he will ever love you. And—”

  The woman stumbled almost falling to her knees, Espy’s forceful swing sending the rock slamming into her head.

  “Run!” Espy yelled to Adara as she ran toward the woman, bending to snatch up another rock as she did and used it to knock one of the daggers out of her hand before the woman could gather her senses and steady herself.

  The woman swung the other dagger at Espy as she fought to gain her footing, keeping Espy at bay and as soon as she regained her senses, she charged Espy. It did not take Espy long to realize that though she had fought before, this woman was stronger and far more skilled than any opponent she had ever faced, and she feared that she would not be able to defeat her.

  That did not stop her from trying. Even when the blade tore down her forearm Espy kept fighting. Death would not claim her easily. But when the woman pinned her against the boulder, she felt her strength ebb as she gripped the woman’s wrist, fighting to keep the dagger from penetrating her chest.