Highlander’s Wicked Desire (Wicked Highlanders Book 2) Page 5

  Just before midday, they found exactly what they had been looking for. On the high ground between two lochs, they came across a large stag, his red-brown coat shining in the sun’s light. His antlers spread out from his head in a wide rack, with no less than twelve points to its credit. His head swung up as he sensed their presence and stared straight at them before his muscles quivered, bunched, then sprang into action. James fired a shot just as the stag turned to move, striking it straight through the shoulder into the heart. The stag ran a few paces then dropped like a stone upon the ground.

  As James approached, he nudged the beast with the muzzle of his rifle to ensure that it was indeed dead. The stag’s tongue lolled out of the side of its mouth as its eyes gazed sightless up at him. James could see his own reflection in their black depths, and he sank to his knees giving thanks for the bounty he had just received. James did not take killing lightly, and he never killed more than was needed at any given point in time. He prayed over the stag, a mix of Christian and pagan sentiments, as he prepared it to be hauled back to Knock Castle. Every part of the stag would serve a purpose. Not a piece of it was to go to waste. Once the animal had been delivered home for butchering, the antlers would be hung in the hall for all to see.

  “A good clean kill,” William praised as he caught up with James and helped him to lift the beast upon the horse’s back and tie it down with rope.

  James smiled. “Aye, he will fill many a belly. We’ll drop this bag o’ organs off for Samuel and Agnes on our way home. They are Agnes’ favorite part o’ the deer.”

  William grinned. “The wee Sassenach lass will be in for a surprise then. I dinnae believe that fine English ladies are used tae such things as eatin’ deer tongue.”

  “I dinnae ken whether they do or nae, but after seein’ her face this mornin’ with the parritch, I doubt that she will be pleased with this.” He would have laughed had he not felt sorry for the poor lass. She was in a place she did not know with unfamiliar customs and had absolutely no say as to what had happened to her and what might happen next.

  “Ye feel bad for the wee Sassanach, do ye nae?” William observed riding along beside him.

  “Aye, I do.”

  “Dinnae forget that the English are our enemies. Dinnae be goin’ soft on me.”

  “Nae, I am nae goin’ soft o’er a wee lost Sassenach lassie, but I am allowed tae feel sorry for a fellow human bein’ who is sufferin’, am I nae.”

  “Aye, that ye are. I suppose it is our Christian duty tae do so, but I’m tellin ye tae be careful o’ that one. Ye dinnae ken anythin’ about her. She could be an English spy. For all ye ken she could already ken yer Jacobite leanings, though why ye would serve a King whose bloodline was responsible for the bringin’ about o’ the downfall o’ the MacDonalds I dinnae ken.”

  “Anythin’ tae keep the English at bay, William. I thought if anyone would understand that it would be ye.”

  “Aye, I do. Ye ken that well enough.”

  James nodded and they rode on falling into silence for a time before he spoke again. “I dinnae believe Elizabeth tae be a Sassenach spy. She has been through tae much. I believe her when she says that she cannae remember her past. The honesty of her pain and confusion shines forth from her eyes, clear for all tae see.”

  “Aye, well, heed me warnin’. There is somethin’ about that lass that is nae right. Just be sure nae tae lose yer head.”

  “I simply wish tae learn her identity and see that she is returned home safely, nae more and nae less. I have nae designs upon her person otherwise.”

  William nodded his head. “Good. Many a lad has been led astray by a bonnie face and a flip o’ the skirts.”

  James fought the urge to punch William in the mouth. “Haud yer wheesht. I have said me piece and that is enough.”

  William studied his face, then nodded slowly, “Aye, me laird. I didnae intend tae overstep.”

  James shook his head. “Ye could ne’er overstep, and ye ken it well. I wouldnae have made it through the last year had ye nae been by me side through it all. Rest assured that I dinnae disregard yer sage advice, but value it. I shall be cautious around the Sassenach lass, as ye advise. Ye are me Keeper, and as such, I respect yer efforts tae keep me and Knock Castle safe from within and without. However, bear in mind that the more time I spend with her, the more likely I am tae hear somethin’ that will aid us in gettin’ her home where she belongs.”

  They looked at each other and nodded in agreement to let the matter drop for now. Stopping to water the horses, they dismounted and walked along the edge of the loch. James waded out into the water to rinse off the deer blood on his skin and clothing. As he climbed back out onto the bank, a shot rang out from the nearby trees, slapping the water at his feet. James leaped into action rolling behind a large stone and dragging William down with him. “Which way did it come from?” he whispered. “Did ye see the shooter?”

  “Nae, I didnae see him, but it appeared to come from o’er there,” William pointed at a more densely grown circle of trees. “One o’ us should stay here and keep him distracted while the other goes around and bashes the cuddie’s head in.”

  Another shot rang out this time bouncing off the stone that they were hiding behind. William handed his pistol to James, since he had been unarmed while swimming, then aimed his rifle at the copse of trees. “We cannae rush them or we will be shot. The land between is tae open tae provide any sort o’ cover.”

  “Aye,” James studied the terrain around them, thinking of a way to bypass the expanse between them and their attacker. The rock they were behind led down to the water. They could not stand or be exposed. The only way to remain safe was to lie flat on their bellies being sure to keep their heads down. James handed William back the pistol and spoke softly, “Hand me yer dirk.”

  William frowned in question but did as he was commanded. James shimmied down the bank and slid silently back into the water barely causing a ripple as he disappeared beneath the water’s lapping surface. James held his breath swimming to the bend in the loch that came up behind where their enemy lay in wait. When he emerged from the loch, he made sure not to make a sound as he gasped in the cool clear air. He lay behind the rocks on the shoreline, attempting to gauge their attacker’s location. Slipping into the trees, he hid himself behind the large trunks. A flash of metal in the sunlight gave away the shooter. James slid from tree to tree until he came up right behind the man, dirk in hand.

  James moved to place the blade to the man’s throat, when the shooter turned and fired wildly in fear. The bullet grazed James’ arm, causing him to lose his advantage. His attacker drew his knife and leaped forward. James just managed to block the attack, and the pair of them fell together, tumbling end over end down the bank. The man’s body crashed into the trunk of a tree, as James skidded to a stop just short of hitting him. James scrambled to his feet ready for another attack, but instead found naught but the sightless eyes of a dead man staring back at him, the man’s own knife protruding from his chest. He had fallen on his own blade in the scuffle.

  “James?” William called out in concern.

  James looked all around him to ensure that there would be no further attacks upon his person before calling back to William. “Ye can come out. The man is dead.”

  William made his way over to James through the trees. “And why do ye sound disappointed o’ that fact?” he inquired with a raised brow.

  “Because a dead man does nae give up his secrets,” James retorted bending down to search the man’s clothing for any signs as to his identity or motive.

  “He is nae one o’ ours,” William noted.

  “Nae, he is nae.” James shook his head in concern.

  “A hired man perhaps?

  “If the blackmailers are hirin’ mercenaries tae do their dirty work for them, then we are in more trouble than I initially thought.”

  “But why send a threatenin’ letter demandin’ that ye tell the truth, only tae put a price on yer
head?”

  “I dinnae ken, but if he is a mercenary, he is nae a verra good one.”

  The man’s clothing was severely water damaged, simple but of good quality. It appeared that he had not been out of them in days from the stains and the stench. He was not a nobleman by the looks of it, but he was not poor either as the cut and quality of the fabric was not worn by men of the lower classes. His weaponry skills had been less than elite, so James felt that he could safely assume that the man was not a soldier or warrior by trade. He did not appear to be an islander, or a highlander for that matter. James was not even sure the man was Scottish. He delved into the pockets of the man’s waistcoat and emerged with a small metal oval frame. He turned it over in his hand and clenched his jaw in alarmed surprise.

  Elizabeth!

  Chapter Six

  “Is that nae the Sassenach lass we found in the shipwreck?” William remarked peering down at the miniature portrait in James’ hand.

  “Aye,” James nodded slowly. The image was water damaged, but it was clearly a portrait of Elizabeth. “From the state of his person, I believe that he was a survivor of the shipwreck.”

  “Why would he shoot at us? Where would he have found a gun?”

  “I dinnae ken.” James bent down and picked up the man’s weapons in order to examine them. “They are mine,” he proclaimed in surprise. “They are the ones I keep in a chest under the bed at me grandmaither’s auld croft. I put them there when the threats started for the both o’ us should we need them. As tae why he would be shootin’ at us…” James shrugged his shoulders. “He is an Englishman lost among Scots. It does nae appear that anyone took him in tae care for him as we have done with Elizabeth.”

  “Mayhap he thought that we had taken her for our own nefarious purposes?”

  James sighed. “Then why attack us here and nae at Samuel and Agnes’ croft? It would have been easy for him tae have slipped in o’ a night and seen for himself how she was bein’ cared for.” He shook his head. “A great many things dinnae make sense about this. Includin’ why a man who is clearly nae o’ the same class, would have a portrait o’ Elizabeth.”

  “A guardian, a poorer relative perhaps, tae be her chaperone on the journey?”

  “If so, then I am responsible for killin’ the last possible connection she had upon this island tae her past. That is a burden I dinnae wish tae bear.”

  “Ye had nae choice. Ye were attacked and forced tae defend yerself.”

  “Aye, but the Sassenach lass may nae feel the same about it as ye do.”

  “If there is one survivor, then perhaps there are more,” William noted, frowning at the possibility of rogue Englishmen scurrying about the island.

  James continued to go through the man’s pockets but found nothing else to identify him. He pulled the knife from the man’s chest. William bent down and lifted the man upon his shoulder and carried him to the waiting horses. He slung him over the back of his horse and climbed up behind him. “The man weighs nae but skin and bones. Perhaps he was simply hungry,” he remarked gesturing toward the felled stag.

  “Perhaps,” James replied, frowning, “but I dinnae believe that we will e’er ken his true motives unless he finds a way tae speak tae us from the grave.”

  “What do ye wish tae do with the body?”

  “We should take him tae Elizabeth and see if she remembers anythin’ about who he might be, then we will bury him in the kirkyard with the others.”

  “’Tis a bit cruel is it nae, tae show the wee lassie such a thing?”

  “Aye, but it is the only way tae ken for sure.”

  “Aye.” William nodded his head slowly, clearly not approving of it, but knowing his laird was right.

  James mounted, and they turned their horses for James’ grandmother’s old croft. Once they had reassured themselves that no one else had been there, they left for Samuel and Agnes’ croft. When they arrived, James dismounted and entered the house. After handing Agnes the bag of deer organs, he walked over to Elizabeth sitting up in the bed. He sat down in the chair beside her. “There is somethin’ I need tae tell ye, lass. Ye are nae goin’ tae like it, and ye may even hate me after, but there is nothin’ that can be done about that now.”

  Elizabeth eyed him warily. He knew she had not yet come to trust him, and what he was about to tell her would not be of any aid to building such a trust. “What have you done?”

  “We were returnin’ from the hunt when we came under attack. A man had us pinned down behind a rock on the shore o’ the loch. I swam beneath the loch’s surface and came up behind him in hopes o’ subduin’ him without anyone gettin’ hurt. I swear tae ye, lass, I didnae mean for any harm tae befall the man. He turned and shot at me, grazin’ me arm, then ran at me. We fell and rolled down the bank. When we landed, he was dead, havin’ fallen on his own blade.”

  “What has this to do with me?”

  “I found this in his pocket,” James pulled the miniature portrait out of his sporran and handed it to her. “’Tis o’ ye.”

  Elizabeth took the oval frame from his hand and gazed down at it. “It is not of me,” she answered, shaking her head. A single tear slipped down her cheek as she reached out with her fingertip and caressed the faded image.

  “It is yer likeness,” James argued. “The artist captured ye exactly.”

  “Nay, it is of my mother.” Another tear slipped down her cheek as she pressed the miniature to her chest.

  “I am sorry, lass. I dinnae mean tae cause ye pain, but there is somethin’ I must ask o’ ye.”

  “What is it?” she asked, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

  “I need ye tae come and look at the man tae see if ye can remember him or anythin’ at all.”

  Elizabeth looked up at him in horror, then calmed nodding her head slowly in resignation. “Very well,” she gave her consent.

  James stood, then lifted her from the bed into his arms. He carried her outside into the sunlight and over to the man’s waiting body. William lifted the man’s head holding it up for her to see. “Do ye recognize him, lass?”

  She peered into his face, her features stark and unreadable. Had he not felt the frightened quiver of her body against his own, James would not have known that she was upset at all. It occurred to him in that moment that she had not seen the other dead bodies that had washed up on shore with her as she had not been conscious at the time. Anyone of them might have triggered a memory, but it was too late now as they were buried and rotting in the ground. He wished for her to regain her memory, not for her to be scarred beyond repair.

  “Nay, I do not remember him,” she shook her head.

  William lifted the man’s eyelids to reveal their color. “What about now?”

  Elizabeth jerked in surprise. “Wait, I…” she peered closer, inspecting their unique color, one blue and one green. “Robert… Robert…” she shook her head and sighed leaning back against James. “I cannot remember his surname.”

  “What was he to ye?”

  “I do not know, but I have the distinct feeling that I did not like him.” She shivered, furrowing her brow in thought. “As soon as I saw those eyes a sense of fear and loathing swept over me. I cannot say that I would have wished him dead, but I do not feel the need to mourn his passing.”

  “Nae family then?”

  “Nay, I do not believe that he is,” she answered, shaking her head once more.

  “O’ that I am relieved. I didnae wish tae have caused ye any further pain than that which ye have already endured.”

  “Why would he have a portrait of yer maither in his pocket?” William asked, releasing the man’s head and letting it fall back to the horse’s side.

  “I do not know.”

  “Ye remembered his name. That is a start. Mayhap more will come tae ye in time,” James soothed. She was trembling so hard that she was making James’ teeth rattle. He got the feeling that there was something about the man that frightened her more than just the fact that he was dea
d. He nodded his head toward William.

  “I’ll see tae it that he is buried in the kirkyard,” William took his master’s cue and mounted his horse, leading the body away. It was a strange sight to have the dead body of a man on one horse and the corpse of a deer on the other trailing behind the large islander.

  James carried Elizabeth back toward the croft. “Nay, please. I do not wish to return to the confines of my bed just yet,” she pleaded. “I am in desperate need of air.”