A Fire Within (These Highland Hills, Book 3) (29 page)

"Misguided? And what man would tolerate being fed by a ...
a woman?" He was so furious he could hardly manage a coherent
thought, much less word.

"Well, ye're not much good to yet clan frail and half-starved,
lad," Goraidh ventured softly. "And what do ye care what the
Campbells think? Indeed, they're the fools for even offering to feed
ye. They'll rue that moment of weakness, they will. Won't they?"

Dar glared over at the older man. "Aye, they will. Not that I
needed yet sly needling to figure that out." He turned back to
Caitlin. "Fine. I'll eat, if only not to have to endure further insults
from the likes of ye."

Caitlin bit her lip, Dar sensed, to keep from smiling. He didn't
mind. Since she had first met him, he had given her little enough
to smile about. Let the lass enjoy her one, wee victory. And, as
the savory scent of roast venison rose to mingle with that of the
fresh-baked bannock, he had to admit he was famished.

After a time of taking bits of meat and bread from Caitlin's
fingers, Dar decided there were some definite advantages to being
fed by a bonny lass. Her fingers were soft, gentle, and the touch
of them on his lips was most pleasing. Too pleasing, he began to
realize, and finally turned away when she offered him yet another
bit of venison.

"That's enough, lass," he said, surprised at how husky and
strained his voice sounded. "Some water would be most appreciated to wash it all down, but I think I've had all I can handle
of the food."

"As ye wish," she replied, her cheeks most becomingly flushed,
her gaze unnaturally bright.

She's as moved as I am, Dar realized with a start as Caitlin held
a cup of water to his lips. The realization filled him with a savage
joy, and he yearned, how he yearned, for his hands to be free.
More than anything he had ever wanted in his life, he wanted to
take her in his arms, hold and kiss her.

Instead, Dar silently accepted the cup and drank deeply. In that
moment, their glances met and melded. Something strong and
deep arced between them. Bound as he was, Dar nonetheless felt
an almost physical union, as if they touched without touching.

Beside them, Goraidh loudly cleared his throat. Dar wrenched
his passion-glazed glance from Caitlin to meet that of the hermit.

"As pleasant a time as ye two have been having," Goraidh
said, "it hasn't been quite as private an interlude as ye might
have imagined." With a subtle but definite motion of his head,
he indicated some spot across the camp.

Dar looked up. There, his tawny brown gaze smoldering with
rage, sat Niall Campbell, glaring back at him.

The next morn, Niall had the camp roused at dawn. After a
quick breakfast of leftover bannocks and cheese, they packed up
and set out on the journey back to Kilchurn. Caitlin rode with
her brother, while Dar was put on the gelding. Both his and
Goraidh's beasts were then led by Campbell clansmen. Niall
wasn't about to risk an escape, and insisted on keeping both
men's hands bound.

By early evening, the party reached Loch Awe and soon rode
through Kilchurn's gates. Dar and Goraidh were immediately
escorted to the dungeon, while Anne took charge of an exhausted
Caitlin. Though a hasty meal was prepared for her, Caitlin ate
only a little before beginning to doze off. She was soon hustled
off to bed.

She awoke late the next morn. Sunlight streamed in past shutters apparently thrown open by one of the servants some time
earlier. For a while, Caitlin lay in her big bed, reveling in the
utter luxury of it. Never before had she realized how wonderful
a bed could feel, the soft pillow beneath her cheek, the smooth feel of the sheets, the light weight of the warm down comforter.
She resolved never to take even the simple pleasure of a good
bed for granted again.

Her thoughts soon turned to Dar, to his whereabouts and
comfort. She hoped Niall had been merciful and not sent him
to the pit. Reserved for the most wicked of criminals, the pit
was little more than a hole in the earth, with straw strewn on the
floor for a bed. Though not significantly better, at least the cells
had a slit of a window and a raised stone platform on which lay
a straw-stuffed mattress.

Shoving to a seated position, Caitlin swung her legs over the
side of the bed. As she did, a movement in the corner caught her
attention. It was old Agnes, Anne's serving maid.

"And where's Fia?" Caitlin asked, inquiring about her own
serving maid.

"She tripped down the stairs yesterday and twisted her ankle.
The Lady Anne thought it best she rest herself for the next few
days, with an ointment of elder leaves applied to her poor, swollen limb to soothe the sprain." Agnes smiled. "So, here am I to
aid ye this morn."

"A bath would be nice," Caitlin said after a moment's consideration. "I haven't had a very thorough one since the day I was
abducted."

"I thought ye might be wanting one when ye awoke, so I
already have water heating for ye in the kitchen."

The old woman rose and walked to the door. She opened it
and gave directions to someone waiting out in the hall.

A half hour later, Caitlin was luxuriating in a hot bath, her
head being gently scrubbed by Agnes. The scent of lavender
and other aromatic herbs wafted up from the steaming water.
She must add hot baths, Caitlin mused, to her list of simple
pleasures.

"Did he treat ye harshly, lass?"

"Who?" Caitlin glanced over her shoulder at the old servant.

"The young MacNaghten, of course."

"Och, nay." She shook her head. "He was kind and verra
honorable."

"We all worried about ye, we did. And Janet was beside herself,
insisting there was a strong likelihood that he'd ravish ye. But
the Lady Anne assured us she didn't think the lad was that sort.
Which was a good thing," Agnes babbled on, "as yet brother was
beside himself with rage and worry."

So, even in the short time Anne had had to talk with Dar,
Caitlin thought, she had been able to take his true measure. It
might well be to Dar's advantage. If anyone could convince Niall
to treat him mercifully, it would be Anne.

She scooted up in the tub. "Please, rinse my hair now, if ye
will, Agnes. I need to be done with this bath and dressed. There's
much I must do this day."

"As ye wish, m'lady," the old woman said, clearly mystified by
Caitlin's sudden change of mood. "Not that there's aught ye need
to concern yerself over. The Lady Anne gave orders that ye be allowed to rest and recuperate today, in whatever way ye wished."

As if I can rest until I know Dar and Goraidh are being well
treated, Caitlin thought, closing her eyes while Agnes began pouring water over her soapy hair. Then there's also the matter of what
Niall intends to do to Dar.

Nay, there'll be no rest for me this day, she resolved. Though Dar
has yet to be parted from me, there's much to be done. For surely the
Lord didn't intend us to spend the rest of our lives separated by the
iron bars of a dungeon.

"What do ye mean, I can't see him?" Caitlin demanded an
hour later as she confronted her brother in the library. "Ye've no
right to-"

"On the contrary," Niall cut her off, glancing up from the
papers strewn on the large, oak table where he was sitting. "I've
the right to do whatever I wish. And if I don't want ye seeing
aught of that man ever again, then that's how it'll be."

"But why?" She came around and pulled up the chair nearest
his and took a seat. "He's in the dungeon and not going anywhere.
And I need to see to his wound, make certain it's healing well."

"Anne can take over the care of his wound." Niall looked back
down at the scroll he was reading. "So, ye see, there's no further
reason for ye to trouble yerself over him."

Caitlin knew when she was being dismissed, but she wasn't
having any of it. "He's my friend, Niall. That's reason enough."

"Yet friend?" Ever so slowly, her brother lifted his gaze to hers, a
gaze that was hard and disbelieving. "The man abducts ye against
yer will. Then, once at the verra least, ye were in danger of yer
life when Athe MacNaghten had that knife to yer throat. Not
to mention I was forced to ride for days in order to get ye back.
And a dangerous lunatic is once more free, thanks to yer friend."
His eyes narrowing, Niall cocked his head. "Now, tell me exactly
how this man has managed to become yer friend?"

How indeed? Caitlin wondered. She wet her lips.

"He was kind to me, as kind as he could be, considering the
circumstances. And we talked, came to know each other." She
could see she wasn't making much headway with her brother but
forced herself to continue. "He did it for his clan, Niall. They're
sore beset right now, and Dar imagined the return of their chief
might help them. But even he finally came to realize that Athe's
return was worse than no help at all."

"A true consolation to me," Niall muttered. "I let Athe MacNaghten go, and the man who forced me to do so now regrets
what he did. It surely makes up for all the havoc the MacNaghten chief will now wreak. And mark my words, he will wreak
havoc."

"If ye let Dar go, he could return to his clan and try to wrest
the chieftainship from his brother."

"Let him go?" Niall gave an incredulous laugh. "Are ye daft,
lass? The odds are just as strong the two would join forces, and
that'd be double the strife and tribulation."

"Dar would never join with his brother!" Caitlin said hotly.
"He's naught like Athe. Naught at all!"

Niall slammed his fist down on the table. She jumped.

"Enough, Caitlin!" he roared. "It disturbs me greatly how
enamored ye've become with this man. Ye've always followed
yer heart more than yer head. This incident, however, makes me
begin seriously to doubt yer judgment. Despite the fact he saved
my life, he's our enemy, lass. Our enemy!"

"No enemy would save yet life, Niall."

"Well, I don't trust him. And he's as much a murderer as his
brother, or have ye forgotten that? His own clan cast him out.
His own clan!"

Tears of frustration filled her eyes. How was she to explain,
convince Niall that none of those tales about Dar were true? He
didn't even seem to think she possessed common sense anymore,
and how could she defend against that? It was daft that a captive
would become friends with her captor. And if Niall ever guessed
the true extent of her feelings for Dar .. .

"I know it all seems illogical to ye," she began hoarsely, struggling to contain her tears. "But I know Dar. He's not the bane of
his clan; he's its only hope. Its savior. But he needs to be given a
chance. He needs friends, people who believe in him."

"Rather, he needs a good, long time to stew in the dungeon,"
her brother growled, "and I'm going to be the one to give it to
him."

"Niall, nay!" All the pent-up emotions of the past days broke
through just then, and the tears coursed down Caitlin's face.
"Don't do this. I beg of ye. Don't do this!"

"Leave it be, Sister." His voice was dark with warning. "Push
much harder, and I'll send him off to Edinburgh and the Tollbooth. And the chances of him living verra long there aren't
good. So, take yer choice. Stay away from him and let me punish
him in my own way and time. Or see him soon on his way to
Edinburgh."

She couldn't bear to spend another moment in the same room
with her brother. "Ye're a cruel, heartless, uncaring man, Niall
Campbell!" Caitlin cried as she began to back toward the door.
"And ye're wrong. Wrong about me, wrong about Dar."

"And ye, sweet little sister," he said, "need to decide where
yer loyalties lie. I am yer chief, above even being yer brother. If
I must command ye to leave that man be, then I do so. Will or
won't ye obey me?"

Her back collided with the door. For a horrified instant, Caitlin
just stared at her brother. That he would ask such a thing of her, in
such a way, was almost beyond bearing. Almost as unbearable as
turning her back on Dar, of promising never to see him again.