Beloved Highlander

“Are you going to help Lady Meg?” she asked Gregor now, in the proud Highland manner which gave favor to no man.

He met her eyes without resentment. In the hours since Shona had redressed his wound and given him her tincture, he had seemed much better. The fever had left him and there was color in his cheeks that had nothing to do with the whiskey he had drunk and everything to do with returning good health. Shona was something of a miracle worker when it came to healing, and Meg was grateful enough not to question her ways.

“I am going to help her, Shona,” his deep voice broke into Meg’s thoughts. “Why don’t you tell me what you know?”

Shona searched his face a moment, as if she would draw the truth out of him, and then at last she nodded. A glance at Meg, accompanied by a smile, and she settled back beside her husband.

“My Kenneth was away,” she began simply. “He was taken from me after the 1715, and sent to Virginia. I dinna know if I would ever see him again. There was no money, so I took work as kitchen maid in the house of the Duke of Abercauldy. Because I was clean and clever, I rose above that station quickly. When he brought his bride home, I was given the task of keeping her room tidy. Lady Isabella had auburn hair and a temper, and I dinna believe she was much in awe of the duke, her husband. She laughed in his face, and she made a fool of him with her sharp tongue, in front of his tenants, in front of his servants.

“Mabbe that was why he found her so fascinating. Most women, I had heard, feared the duke. Isabella dinna. And yet she should have feared him. There were stories of other women, whispers of women who had come to the duke’s castle and then vanished. ’Twas said that one of them screamed for hours, locked away in some hidden place. The next morning she was found dead, below the north tower.”

“The same tower where Isabella fell,” Kenneth murmured.

“Or was pushed,” Shona returned grimly. “Aye, she should have feared him. Isabella walked a narrow and dangerous path by flouting such a man. I saw him strike her once, when she had pushed him too far. Another time, he locked her in her room for a week. And even then she could no’ see the danger she was in. Too strong-willed by far, do ye see? She laughed in his face, driving him on, making him wild with rage. Sometimes I thought it gave her pleasure, to see him lose control. It was as if she had won the battle.”

“Did he love her? Or was it all about winning?”

Shona’s fingers entwined with those of her man. “He watched her. She frustrated him, and yet she fascinated him. It was as if he was trying to discover her secrets, so that he could own h

er entirely. Is that love, Captain Grant? If so, ’tis no’ the kind of love I know. The more he showed himself desirous of winning her affection, the more she resisted him. She was perverse in that way—manipulating. But then, so was he. They seemed to enjoy inflicting pain upon each other.”

“So it was a game between them?”

“Aye, a strange, unhealthy game.”

“And she died…how?”

Meg shifted uneasily, and Gregor looked at her. She appeared tired, there were shadows beneath her brilliant eyes, and her skin was chalky with exhaustion. He wanted to brush his finger along her cheek, cup that delicate curve with his calloused palm. He wanted to lean in to her and close his mouth on hers. He wanted to kiss her until they had both forgotten about the Duke of Abercauldy and his difficult wife….

“Captain?”

“Hmm?” He glanced up into Shona’s knowing blue gaze. She smiled, just enough to let him know she had guessed what he had been thinking.

“Do you want to hear how Lady Isabella died?”

Gregor frowned, carefully shifting his arm. “Go on.”

Shona’s smile slowly faded. “She fell from the north tower. There was talk that she had jumped, through homesickness and unhappiness, but I know neither to be true. She was no’ homesick, and she was no’ the sort to kill herself. She had too much to live for. And she and the duke enjoyed their strange games, so although her marriage was no’ what I would call ordinary, it was no’ the sort of marriage that would cause a woman to kill hersel’ to escape it. ’Tis my belief Lady Isabella could have left anytime she wished—she had powerful relations—but she dinna choose to. Why would she kill herself?”

Gregor thought a moment, considering her words. “So what do you think happened, Shona?”

Shona straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I think she was pushed, Captain,” she said firmly. “It just so happened that that day I was in the vicinity of the north tower mysel’. I had been to see the cook’s child, who was feverish, and was coming back that way. I…dinna wish to be seen. Some of the duke’s people dinna like it that I was a healer. So I came by way of the north tower, where I knew it would be quiet and deserted.”

Her blue eyes became distant, shadowy in the light of the lantern, as she returned to the past.

“I saw the duke coming down the stairs. He moved slowly, in a dream, as if he had a heavy weight upon his mind. His face was white, whiter than I had ever seen it. I dinna know whether to step out from the tapestry where I stood, to make myself known. Just then a cry went up from outside. The Duke lifted his head and went perfectly still. There was such a look on his face…A wild look, like an animal caught in a snare. A look of guilt and regret.”

Meg shivered as if she were cold, although it was warm in the room with the smouldering peat fire. Gregor sensed her tension. His foot brushed hers, and she did not draw back. Instead she inched closer, as if she found comfort in his presence.

“He knew she was dead,” Shona said with certainty. “Even before word was brought to him, he knew. Why would he keep such news to himself, unless it was due to a guilty conscience? Unless he had killed her with his own hands?”

“But why would he do such a thing?” Gregor asked impatiently. “If he married Lady Isabella for her money, why kill her when he already had what he wanted? Or if, as you say, he was fascinated by her, why dispose of her in such a way?”

Shona pulled a face. “Ah, Captain, you dinna see them together. She taunted him, teased him, kept him on edge. A man like that, a cold, controlled man…Once he lost his temper it could be verra dangerous. He might do such a thing without being able to stop himself, not until it was over, and too late. And as I said, ’twas often whispered about the castle that he had killed before.”

Gregor raised a dark eyebrow. “So he killed her in a rage, and then kept quiet about it?”

“Aye,” Shona said softly. “He pretended to mourn. He did mourn. I think he had loved Lady Isabella, in his way. And then one day he rode to Glen Dhui to visit the general and saw Lady Meg. She is much like his wife, in looks as well as manner, although of course Lady Meg is far, far sweeter.” She smiled at Meg, but her eyes were serious. “But the duke wouldna see the differences, Captain. He is the sort of man who would see only what he wanted to see: another Isabella. A second chance to master Lady Isabella. In his mind he isna marrying Lady Meg. He is marrying Lady Isabella…again!”