Journey to the Highlands: Robbie and Caralyn (Clan Grant Series Book 4) (8 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Several hours later, Caralyn washed her hands in the basin at the end of the chamber full of cots, preparing to leave for the day. After Gwyneth fell fast asleep, Caralyn had assisted Sister Donna and Sister Elly wherever she was needed. It had been a busy morning and afternoon. Fortunately, Malcolm had said he would be gone for most of the day, which was the only reason she’d been allowed to remain at the priory for this long. She knew he would never have allowed it if he’d known what she was doing.

As she dried her hands on the linen towel, she glanced over her shoulder at the women in the beds. She had helped Sister Elly clean and bathe each woman, and dress her wounds. Then she helped comfort them in whatever way she could. She had rubbed backs, listened to their stories, and hugged them while they sobbed.

Tears slid down her cheeks and she turned back away from the cots. She could have been any one of those women or worse. Aye, she had been injured and bruised by the Norseman, but not brutalized or raped.

Captain Robbie Grant had seen to that. She wondered why she felt the need to cry now and not while she’d listened to their stories. Did it mean she’d gone hard and cold?

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder. She jerked to see Sister Donna’s smiling face. “Lass, for everyone it is different. Some cry when it happens, some don’t cry until after. You were a great help to me and your strength was a blessing for all these poor victims. They needed you to be strong for them, just as I did. Now, you can let go. ‘Tis acceptable to be emotional about what you have seen.” Sister Donna kissed her cheek. “Why not step outside a bit for some fresh air?”

Caralyn nodded and thanked the nun. She stepped into the passageway, and after hobbling a few steps, she found a stool and sat, resting her ankle for a bit, not ready to leave yet.

This experience had forced her to confront exactly what Captain Grant had prevented her from. She had verbally thanked him, but after tending to these ravaged victims, her words seemed pitifully inadequate. He had not only saved her, but her girls as well.

Aye, she had thanked him, too, but tremendous guilt had rocked her core after it happened. She felt guilty no longer. They had shared something beautiful. Unable to understand it at the time, she had allowed her guilt to overpower her. Now, she recognized their lovemaking for what it was—normal and special at the same time.

He had given her a taste of what could be. Most of her past experiences with sex were tainted, but every moment she’d shared with Robbie had been beautiful, loving, tender, full of caring, and so different than her life. He was everything she had been missing since her husband had passed. One night with a stranger had given her something naught else had ever given her—hope.

And while Robbie had saved her from the abuses of the Norseman, the toughest of realities had just hit her. The stories of many of the battered women sounded not unlike her life with Malcolm. They spoke of humiliation and degradation, something Malcolm made her feel every day. She was more convinced than ever that she had to do everything in her power to get away from him. Forever. All along, she had wanted to do this for her daughters, but now she grasped the truth—she needed to get away for herself.

Aye, she was ready to be untethered to Malcolm, the man who had stolen her life. She needed to be free, free of hate and humiliation, free to love and care for her daughters. For a man who cared for her and honored her.

Voices at the end of the corridor interrupted her thoughts. She glanced up in time to see Robbie enter from the staircase. One look at him and butterflies burst to flight in her belly. He was talking to Tomas and the lad who had brought Gwyneth into the sick room, but he stopped when he saw her. She swallowed, hoping he wouldn’t turn away. His gaze caught hers and he smiled.

Robbie’s smile had a way of heading straight to her heart. His boots echoed on the stone as he made his way straight toward her. She couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to, pinned to the spot by his handsome gaze.

“Caralyn, I’m glad you’re still here.” He stopped in front of her and introduced his friends. “You remember, Tomas?”

“Aye.” She nodded, her hands folded in her lap in an attempt to hide the trembling.

“And this is Logan Ramsay of West Lothian. His brother is married to my sister.”

Caralyn nodded. “Greetings, Lord Ramsay.”

Logan laughed, “My lady, I am no lord, believe me.”

She couldn’t help but smile in response to his smirk and his crinkled eyes. “Captain Grant,” she turned to Robbie. “My thanks for returning my friend, Gwyneth, to Glasgow. We had met at a Kirk not long ago. I was verra pleased to see her.”

Robbie sighed. “I must apologize. Tomas and I had every intention of finding your daughters when we were sent on this assignment.”

“Och, well, ‘twas a verra important task.”

Robbie whispered, “So is finding your daughters.”

Caralyn closed her eyes and squeezed to attempt to stop tears from falling. She nodded but didn’t speak.

“Caralyn, now there are three of us. Logan is one of the best trackers of all the Scots. We will find them. Having completed all we need to do for our commander, I promise to focus on saving your daughters.”

“Aye, my thanks, Captain Grant.”

“I am surprised Malcolm allows you to come to the priory.”

“Aye, he allows me here or the Kirk with an escort when he’s out of town. He knows I like to say my prayers when I can. However, he does not know that I am helping the sisters with their sick ones. Mother Mary has kept his men busy so I can be of assistance.” Caralyn picked at her thumbnail, her eyes downcast.

“Have you learned anything else about where he may be keeping the wee lasses?” He grasped her hand in his, stopping her repetitive movement with his thumb.

“Nay, I have no idea.” She brought her gaze up to his. “Find my daughters and I will go away with you. Anywhere.” Shocked at what she had just said, she realized the statement reflected her deepest feelings. Sometimes, it was best not to think but to follow your heart. Robbie Grant was her heart.

Robbie nodded. “We’ll find them.”

Chapter Fifteen

Robbie stood outside the priory, staring up and down the street as if an idea would jump out at him. Logan and Tomas stood with him, all deep in thought.

“We need a plan,” Robbie said.

“Aye. Do you have any idea where to start?” Logan asked.

“Nay. I don’t know Glasgow any better than you or Tomas do. I suppose we’ll start by questioning people, or spending time in the market talking to local vendors. What ideas do you two have?”

A fourth person joined the group. “I’ll go with you,” Gwyneth announced, hands on her hips as if daring someone to disagree.

Robbie asked, “Do you know Glasgow?”

Gwyneth nodded. “I know Glasgow and I’ll find the lassies. I have a hunch as to where Murray would hide them within town.”

“Then I welcome your assistance,” Robbie said.

Logan stared at Robbie first, than at Gwyneth. “What? Are you daft, lass? You belong in on the pallet resting.”

Gwyneth retorted, “Like hell I do. You think just because I’m a lass, I’m not strong enough to join you?”

Logan argued. “Nay, I think someone did a fine job of beating you, and you’re bruised from head to toe.”

Gwyneth didn’t slow for a second. “That has naught to do with it. Those lassies need to be found, and I’m the one to find him. Or is your cock so small you fear women just because they might find out the size?”

Logan smiled as he grabbed his crotch. “Would you like to see my cock and judge for yourself?”

Fire burned in Gwyneth’s gaze. “Aye, bring it out, but let me grab my dagger first. I’ll take one of your sacs as a trophy. The last one I cut off, I flung into the firth.”

Dead silence hung in the air. Robbie was not about to interrupt their waiting game of who would speak first. Gwyneth was going with them, there was no doubt in his mind of that since they needed her expertise, but the two needed to come to terms with each other if they were all to work together as a team. Plus, he hadn’t been this entertained in a very long time.

After a long moment, Logan whispered, “I don’t doubt your strength on a good day, lass. But the Norse knocked the wind out of you. I can see the fine tremor in your hand. The only thing you need is rest.”

Gwyneth took a step closer to Logan. “Fortunately, what you say doesn’t mean anything to me. I do as I please, not what some man orders me to do.”

Robbie held his hands up. “Och, lass. No one is trying to order you. You came to us, remember?”

“Aye,” she said, her gaze never leaving Logan’s. “And I’m going with you.”

Logan’s hands settled on his hips as he continued to meet her stare. “Give me one good reason why we should take you with us. I see you as a detriment to our mission. You’ll be slow and we’ll have to cater to your needs.”

Gwyneth moved her face a few inches closer to Logan’s. “I won’t be slow, and you won’t have to cater to my needs.”

Still staring into Gwyneth’s eyes, Logan said to Robbie, “Hmmph. Did you hear a reason for us to take her, Grant? Because I surely did not.”

Gwyneth crossed her arms in front of her. “Because the lassies know me. They’ll never go with you. And I don’t think any of you wish to deal with a two-year-old’s rags once you find them.”

Robbie knew that reasoning wouldn’t work on Logan. He had cared for his niece and nephew through rags and vomit.

Logan stepped back and peered at Tomas and Robbie, a strange look on his face. He finally dropped his hands from his hips and stalked away. “Guess she goes with us. Saddle up and let’s move.”

Robbie quirked his brow at Tomas, but then shrugged his shoulders in agreement. “Let’s go before sundown.”

Gwyneth smiled and jumped on Logan’s horse.

Logan growled, “Lass, find your own horse.”

“I did.” She smiled and took off down the path.

Logan mounted Tomas’s horse in a flash and headed down the path after her. When he was close enough, he grabbed the reins, winked at Gwyneth and said, “You better hang on.” He whistled and his horse came to a screeching halt. Gwyneth almost flew off the front, though she somehow managed to hang on.

Gwyneth yelled. “Och, stop! I’ll get off. Have your foolish horse.”

Logan tossed his reins to Tomas who had come up on his other side with Robbie. Then dismounting Tomas’s horse, he climbed up behind Gwyneth in the saddle.

Gwyneth squealed and swung at him. “Don’t touch me, you brute.”

Logan chuckled and took off, whispering just loud enough for Robbie to hear, “Should have thought of that before you stole my horse. Now you ride with me.” He held her back against him in a death grip while he yelled over his shoulder. “Move on, Grant.”

Robbie smiled. Gwyneth would have her hands full with Logan Ramsay. She’d chosen the wrong one to goad.

Chapter Sixteen

Robbie motioned to Gwyneth and Logan to take the lead. After they rode for a bit, they found themselves in an area that looked a bit suspicious and Gwyneth signaled for the group to stop and investigate. He dismounted near several rows of run-down cottages. The odor of sewage was ripe and piles of waste sat in front of every hut as if the owners cared naught about their homes. A creek ran behind the rows, probably their only source of water. Given the amount of sewage nearby, it was a wonder they still lived.

He glanced at Logan, who slid off his horse, too, pulling Gwyneth behind him. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she swung and clobbered Logan in the side of his head with her fist. Logan spun her around in a matter of seconds and held her in a vise grip in front of him. Gwyneth struggled to free herself, but Robbie knew she didn’t stand a chance. Logan was big and broad-shouldered, with a body lined with solid muscle. Robbie trusted him to do the right thing, so he and Tomas stood aside to let them settle their differences.

“Leave me be, you rutting bull.” Gwyneth struggled to maintain any sense of composure.

Logan squeezed her back against his chest and spoke into her ear. “Now, do I have complete control of you, lass?”

“Aye, leave off, you surly brute!” She fought until her face was beet red, spitting and kicking at anything she could reach.

“Remember that. I have complete control over you. You have no power over me without your weapons. Agreed?”

“Aye,” she snarled.

“Then know this. I will never hurt you or force you. If I wanted to, I could throw you down on that ground and rut all I wanted. But I won’t. Do you know why?”

The only sound from Gwyneth was a low growl as she fought to free herself from Logan’s grip.

“Verra well, I’ll tell you though you are not inclined to listen, please hear me and heed me.”

Gwyneth managed one kick to his shin as she continued to squirm.

“Lass, I’ll never hurt you. I don’t hurt women. ‘Tis not in me, nor is it in my friends. You need to accept that. There are two kinds of men, those who hit lasses and those who don’t. ‘Tis unfortunate the only men you have met are rutting snipes, but I’m not one. I like my lasses willing and I never hit.” He continued his soft whispers until she seemed less agitated.

“But I will protect myself. Can you promise not to hit me or my friends? I won’t let you go until you agree.”

She calmed but didn’t agree.

Logan continued. “I’m here to save the wee lassies. I have a niece named Lily whom I adore. She is a bit older than Gracie, and I would kill any man who dared to hurt her. So you need to decide. Will you join us to help save the lassies or will you continue to try to make me pay for whatever atrocities you have been forced to endure which will slow down our rescue considerably?”

A tear slid down her cheek before she nodded.

“I am going to let you go, and I swear on the saints above, if you swing at me, I will tie you to that tree while we search for the lassies. We did not bring you along for you to attack us.” Logan relaxed his arms and she shoved away from him.

Gwyneth swallowed three times before she spoke.

“Think hard, Gwyneth. I’ll help him tie you to that tree if need be. I am here for Ashlyn and Gracie. Are you?” Robbie waited for her answer as he arranged his weapons.

“Aye. Tell me what to do. I can kill Logan while he sleeps tonight.” She had her hands clasped behind her back as if she didn’t trust herself.

“Is this the most likely area, Gwyneth?” Robbie asked.

“Aye, some are just poor, but many are questionable.”

Robbie noticed she refused to look at Logan.

“Any particular row?” Tomas asked.

“Nay, they could be anywhere. We need to look closer.”

Robbie noticed Gwyneth fought to maintain control, so he made his decision. He needed to separate Logan from her. “I want each of you to search around both rows of cottages to see if you see any sign of weans. Mayhap we’ll hear voices or crying, anything. ‘Tis an area with many cottages because of the creek. If you look in that direction, I think you’ll find another row around the bend in the creek. Meet back here in the next hour.” He assigned each person a row to search and they separated, each holding the reins of their horse as they advanced.

Robbie canvassed the area he had chosen but found nothing. He listened intently, but heard naught but arguments and snores. Darkness was almost upon them. He stared at the sky, thinking about Ashlyn and Gracie. Gracie never spoke and he had never heard her cry, unfortunately. Her elder sister clung to her, always taking on the role of guardian. Neither were noisy. How would they ever discover her whereabouts?

He headed back down the path, hoping someone else had experienced more success than he had, when he noticed Gwyneth running straight at him.

“What is it, Gwyneth?”

She paused to catch her breath. “Rags,” she panted.

“What?” Robbie couldn’t understand what in hellfire she was talking about.

“Raggies. A wean’s rags.” She pointed to a cottage. “A whole pile of urine drenched rags are in front of that hut.”

Robbie made his bird call, and Tomas and Logan rushed to his side. “I think we may have them, if Gwyneth is correct.” He pointed to the hut in question. “Gwyneth, you go to the door to see if the lasses are there and how many guards are watching them. Ask for the nearest pub and act as if you are lost. I promise to guard you while Tomas and Logan go around back.”

Gwyneth stumbled up the front path, making a ruckus while Robbie and the others got in place.

A slim woman opened the door, a wee bairn on each hip. Gwyneth stood there staring, realizing they had chosen the wrong house. Her gaze searched the inside, but there were no other weans in sight. “Mistress, I seem to have made a mistake. Are there any other bairns in the area? Two wee lassies? I came to visit my friend.”

The woman shook her head and started to close the door, then paused. “Aye, I did see two bairns outside taking care of their needs yesterday. One was brown-haired and the other blonde. They be at the end of the path.” Her finger pointed down toward the creek.

“My thanks.” Gwyneth nodded. As soon as the door closed, she turned to Robbie and he whistled for his friends to join them.

When Logan and Tomas returned, Tomas said, “Nay? Wrong place?”

Robbie said, “Aye, but she told us the cottage we need. Same plan, but down the path.”

They made their way to the suspected cottage and set up the same scene. Robbie hoped this didn’t play out through ten cottages before they found the girls. Gwyneth stumbled up the path again so Logan and Tomas could make it around back. The front door swung open, and an overweight dolt opened the door.

“Fingal, look what I found.” He reached for Gwyneth. “A plaything. We have something to entertain us now.”

Robbie could see it took all Gwyneth’s control to allow the man to touch her and pull her inside. He crept up to the door to take a look. Just as he made it to the entrance, he heard a crashing sound from the back. Jumping inside the doorway, he saw the two girls huddled in the corner, Ashlyn’s arms wrapped tight around Gracie. He held his hand up to Ashlyn to make sure they stayed out of the way.

The big lout had his arm around Gwyneth and a knife at her throat. Fingal reached for the girls, but Tomas twirled him around and backed him up against the wall with his sword at his throat.

Robbie spoke, “Let her go, and my friend will let your comrade go.” He didn’t see anyone else inside. There was just the two of them.

The big lout reeked of fear. “Nay, let Fingal go and we’ll leave. You can have the lassies. Let him go or I’ll cut her throat.”

Logan strode further into the room and stood to the side of Gwyneth and the dolt, still a distance away so as not to cause the fool to lose control. Robbie could tell his brother-in-law was positioning himself for a good strike.

“One more step and I’ll kill her. Let us go and you can have all three bitches.”

“That would be impossible.” A smirk crossed Logan’s face. “That’s my lass you have your hands on.”

Fingal said, “We don’t want any trouble. You can have her. Let us go.”

“Can’t do it,” Logan said.

“Why not?” His gaze darted back and forth between Logan and Tomas, whose sword was still positioned at his comrade’s throat.

“Because you touched my lass and no one touches her.” Logan flung his knife and it landed in his side between his ribs. A strange bubbling sound rose from the man’s lips as he dropped his knife and stared at Logan, his eyes full of shock, then at the knife in his side. He crumpled to the ground.

Fingal screamed, “You killed my brother.” He pulled his own knife and tried to stab Tomas, but Robbie’s knife landed in his body just as Tomas pierced his neck with the sword.

Fingal fell to the ground, dead.