A Fire Within (These Highland Hills, Book 3) (23 page)

BOOK: A Fire Within (These Highland Hills, Book 3)
5.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

"And me as well," Goraidh chimed in, slipping around to stand
at Dar's side. Kenneth silently joined him.

Though the hermit and bard would be of little added battle
support-and likely more hindrance-Dar nonetheless shot
them a grateful smile.

"Ye'll have me to deal with as well," Feandan added, "and all
these other lads here," he said, gesturing to their compatriots,
who looked from Athe to Feandan, then nodded resolutely if
reluctantly. "We MacNaghtens have been the cause of far too
much injustice and suffering of late. It's got to stop, and stop
now, Athe, or we're surely doomed."

The red-haired man gave a harsh, disbelieving laugh. "Haven't
ye been paying attention, Uncle? We're already doomed. We've
got naught left to lose."

"We still have our honor," Dar said, his voice low but intense.
"Would ye take that from us as well?"

"Honor!" Once more Athe laughed. "And aren't ye one to
preach to me of honor? Ye, who stole the heart-and body-of a woman never meant for ye! Tell me, little brother. Where was
yer honor then?"

"What I did doesn't justify what ye intend to do here."

"And I say it does! Indeed, ye owe me this. One lass in exchange
for another."

"I didn't take Nara against her will," Dar said quietly. "What
ye mean to do is against Caitlin's will. And that's the worst kind
of dishonor."

For the first time, uncertainty flashed across Athe's face. He
looked from one man to another, as if gauging each one's true intent and loyalty. What he must have found sealed his decision.

"I'll not go against my own clansmen for a wee tumble with
the lass," he said finally, sheathing his dagger. "No woman's worth
that." He gestured to them all. "Come, let's return to the Great
Hall. The lass is safe enough here."

"Aye, safe enough now," Dar growled. "Until we leave this
place, I intend personally to guard her."

Athe's expression darkened. Fleetingly, Dar thought he might
have yet another fight on his hands. Then his brother shrugged.

"Have it yer way. Though I wonder if someone to chaperone ye
isn't needed." He leered at Caitlin. "But then, mayhap it wouldn't
be hard for Dar to convince ye to bed him, would it, lass? He
has a way with the women, he does. And his own, verra special
kind of honor."

With that Athe turned and, never looking back, strode from
the library. Feandan glanced from Dar to Caitlin, then shook his
head. He gestured to the others.

"Come, lads. There's more to all this than my poor head can
fathom. Leave Dar and the lass to work it out.

"If aught can indeed ever be worked out," he added, a troubled
look in his eyes, of this sorry, tangled mess we've gotten our
selves into."

 
12

Once the last man had departed, Dar closed the library door and
turned to Caitlin. She still knelt there by the hearth, her hands
tied behind her, her face thrown into shadows by the firelight.

He walked over. Grasping her by both arms, Dar pulled her
to her feet.

"Turn around. Let me cut yet bonds loose."

She did as he asked. "Are ye certain that's permitted? With
both my hands and feet free, I could make my escape back to
my brother."

"Aye, and mayhap ye should, after what almost happened to
ye," Dar muttered as he withdrew his dagger and began carefully
to saw through the ropes on her hands.

Emotion overcame him and he shook his head, his voice going
hoarse. "If Goraidh hadn't commented on Athe's absence and I
hadn't gotten here when I did ..."

Dar found he couldn't-indeed didn't dare-go on. Anger
combined with an odd mix of anguish and fear, until he didn't
know if the next thing out of him would be curses or sobs. All
he knew was that he was so very, very grateful that Caitlin was
all right.

The ropes fell free. Caitlin tugged the torn piece of bodice up, tucked it in beneath the neckline of her chemise, then turned to
face him. Tentatively, she lifted a hand to stroke his face.

"It's fine, Dar," she whispered. "I'm fine. And ye did get here
when ye did."

Closing the distance between them, she laid her head on his
chest and hugged him. The pressure of her arms around him
most painfully reminded Dar of his side. He sucked in a sharp
breath.

Immediately, Caitlin leaned back to gaze up at him. "What is
it? Did Athe's cut slice more deeply than it seemed?"

"Nay." Dar gently disengaged her arms and stepped back.
"But I fear all the physical exertion has caused my wound to
break open."

"Let me see." She took his hand and pulled him around until
he faced the fire. After releasing the brooch holding his plaid
pinned over his left shoulder, Caitlin moved the fabric aside to
expose his right side.

The look on her face said it all.

"How bad is it?"

"Ye're bleeding like a stuck pig." She began tugging his shirt
free of his belt and kilt.

"Well, that's a reassuring description, if ever I heard one."

She shot him a sharp glance. "I didn't mean it as reassurance
or to be humorous. If I can't stop the bleeding with pressure, we
may well have to use cautery on it again."

That wasn't quite what he wanted to hear. Dar began to feel
a little lightheaded.

"Do ye think it might help if I lay down here near the fire?"
he asked, already casting about for a spot. "To aid ye in yet examination and care, I mean?"

Caitlin must have grasped his underlying message. "Aye, that'd
help me immensely." She took him by the arm. "Here, let me
assist ye."

Dar was of a mind to tell her he could get down under his own
power. Then, as he began to feel not only dizzy but nauseated, he
decided this was definitely not the time to waste energy in a debate. He allowed her to help him to the floor, where he stretched
out by the hearth with his right side toward the firelight.

She knelt beside him, flipped up the hem of her skirt, and
began to tear free a long strip of petticoat. From that, she ripped
off a length, which she then proceeded to fold into a big wad.

"This is likely going to hurt, but I've got to put pressure on
the spot that's bleeding. Luckily, it's only about two inches in
length."

"Do yet best, lass," Dar said, feeling decidedly better now that
he was recumbent. "I'd prefer to avoid the cautery. Most of all,
though, I don't want Athe knowing of my condition. He's not
above taking every and all advantages."

"Aye, I can well imagine how eagerly he'd seize on any weakness he found in ye." Caitlin paused. "Ready?"

Dar nodded.

She placed the folded cloth over his wound and pressed hard.
It hurt. Dar went taut and clenched shut his eyes.

After a time, he opened them. "Is it working?"

Her reply was slow in coming. Too slow.

"Not yet."

He released a pent-up breath. "Then press harder. Make it
stop.

Caitlin hesitated but an instant, then, leaving the bandage in
place, rolled him over to lie atop it. Stars sparkled before Dar's
eyes. The pain almost drove him past the brink of consciousness.

And then she leaned on him and pressed down hard on his
left side.

Some time later, Dar awoke. He lay there beside the fire, flat
on his back, wondering fuzzily why he was on the floor. Then a
recollection of intense pain and being swallowed up into utter
blackness filled him. The wound ... the bleeding.

His hand moved to his right side. A thick bandage, bound by
several strips of cloth, was fastened there.

"Ah, good. I see that ye've awakened," Caitlin said from the
shadows. "Welcome back to the land of the living."

He turned his head in the direction of her voice. She was sitting in the window seat carved from the stone wall.

"I take it ye were able to stop the bleeding without cautery
then?"

"Aye, I did, though if I'd needed to do so, ye were in a far better
place for the procedure unconscious than otherwise."

Awkwardly, Dar levered to one elbow. "Does anyone know?
About my wound, I mean?"

"Nay. But if ye decide to do any more bleeding, I'm going to
need to find a new petticoat somewhere."

"Along with yer torn bodice, that might be a difficult thing
to explain to yer brother."

"Well, I do recall warning ye this verra morn that it was too
soon for ye to be traveling," Caitlin said as she rose and walked over
to him, "much less engaging in knife duels with yet brother."

He gazed up at her and smiled. "Aye, that ye did. One of
my many failings, however, is that I oft don't listen to good
advice."

She sat down beside him. "Aye, one of many. Ye also seem
to be doing a lot of bleeding and passing out of late. And that
tends to get in the way of accomplishing many of yer grand
plans."

"At least all the bleeding and passing out is done in the cause
of rescuing ye from fates worse than death." He cocked his head.
"Though I'd mightily appreciate it if, from here on out, ye try to avoid any more such occasions. I only have so much blood
to spill, ye know."

Caitlin sighed. "Aye, I know. And we've still a long journey
ahead of us this night. I can't fathom how ye're going to be able
to pull that off, without revealing the truth of yet condition."

"I've got a long journey, not we." Dar lay back and stared at
the wood-slatted ceiling overhead, noting, as if for the first time,
how it was encompassed with ornate, carved trim work around
the edges. "Naught else has gone right this day, but I intend to
at least see ye safely returned to yer brother."

"Suit yerself. Not that it'll do ye any good."

Dar turned to look at her. "Whatever are ye talking about?"

"The longer I'm with ye, the more convinced I become the
Lord intends for us to remain together." She scooted closer and
touched his arm. "Think on it, Dar. I came back to ye when I
could've escaped. Then, no sooner had ye turned me over to
Niall, than I was back with ye, albeit thanks to yer brother and a
knife at my throat. And now, now ye need me to care for ye and
yer wound yet again."

So, Dar thought grumpily, it was back to God again, was it?
Well, God, in this case, was but the result of Caitlin's stubborn,
and bordering on irrational, determination to remain with him.
A braver man might question the source of her resolve, but Dar
didn't dare do so.

"Goraidh is quite capable of seeing to my wound," he muttered. "Ye needn't trouble yerself over that."

She didn't reply. Instead, Caitlin climbed to her feet and walked
back to sit in the shadowed window seat.

Silently, Dar cursed his clumsy attempt to reassure her that
she needn't worry over him. Now, he had gone and hurt her
feelings.

"Lass, I'm sorry," he began. "I didn't mean-"

"Aye, ye did!" Caitlin snapped back at him. "Ye always mean it when ye wish to put me off from ye. And I'm weary of it, I
am. I don't know what else to do with ye, to make ye like me, if
only but a wee bit."

Like her? Dar closed his eyes. Like her?

By mountain and sea, what he felt for Caitlin was far, far more
than just a friendly affection! He ached for her down through
to the marrow of his bones, the depths of his heart. Ached ...
dreamt of... loved her!

Tears stung his eyes, and Dar was grateful for the distance she
had put between them. Had it come to this then, that another
woman had finally penetrated his defenses and turned him into
some blethering, weepy idiot? Another woman whom he desired
with all his heart but would never have?

He should go to her, comfort her, assure her that he at least
liked her. That it wasn't that he didn't wish her to be with him,
but that she couldn't. Her brother would never allow it. Dar
doubted his own clan would be overly partial to a Campbell in
their midst either. And without at least the support of and his
inclusion back into his clan, he had nothing, absolutely nothing,
to offer her.

As a broken man, Dar had many times barely managed to
keep himself alive. He had no coin to speak of. And the times
he couldn't prevail on some crofter to give him work to earn his
bread, he was forced to rely on the code of Highland hospitality
even to eat, much less find decent shelter.

Yet hospitality, for such poverty-stricken folk who frequently
lived on the verge of starvation themselves, could only stretch so
far. One way or another, he had never been one to beg.

It wasn't, after all, as if he dared appeal to the nobles of the
various clans. They would likely soon guess his true kinship.
Their hospitality would then swiftly turn to a righteous wrath,
to imprisonment if not instantaneous execution.

Nay, Dar thought, he couldn't offer Caitlin any hope, if hope for them was what she was truly seeking. But he also couldn't
bear to hurt her.

Gingerly, he pushed himself up. Once he was certain dizziness
wouldn't overtake him, he climbed slowly to his feet. He stood
there for several seconds until he was assured he wouldn't take
but a few steps and topple over. Then he walked to the window
seat and settled down beside Caitlin.

Other books

Sofia's Tune by Cindy Thomson
A Little Harmless Addiction by Melissa Schroeder
Ultramarathon Man by KARNAZES, DEAN
The Whipping Star by Frank Herbert
He's So Fine by Jill Shalvis
Collecting by Grace, Viola