Revenge (Book 3 of Lost Highlander series) (2 page)

The reasons behind Lachlan and Bella’s unhappily wedded state were well beyond Pietro’s comprehension, but there it was, and in this day and age something like that was taken very seriously, whether or not it was in name only.

“For all we know, my brother is in another time, or miles away,” Quinn said, his face softening for the first time since Pietro had woken up. “As far as I’m concerned—”

“Thank ye, that’ll be enough,” Bella interrupted, her face now a deep shade of purple. “Must we hash about my sad state?”

“No, we must no’,” Quinn said equitably. “But, I fear we must discuss why yer people have ridden after us. My scout thinks it’s no’ to give ye hearth warming gifts for yer new home.”

Bella sighed deeply and her color slowly faded away. Pietro studied her face but for the life of him couldn’t read her. All he wanted was to take her in his arms and stroke her soft hair, but his limbs felt like they were made of water and Quinn was ever present.

“I know ye were angry when we left Glen land,” Quinn prompted, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“Ye know of my father,” Bella said, a deep frown creasing her forehead.

Pietro took in Quinn’s reaction to this. What did they know of her father? Was this something more than just hurt familial pride at them leaving so abruptly?

From what he’d managed to glean from their harried ride away from the castle, a feast had been long prepared in Lachlan’s honor for something he’d done for the Glens. He’d gone from hero to disgrace when they’d all ridden in from town, bedraggled and wet and following gossip that Lachlan had been seen at the village inn with another woman. The other woman being Piper, his former employer back in his own time.

It still amazed him that she had been secretly pining over an eighteenth century Highlander the entire time he knew her. She’d been half crazed when she found out Lachlan had married Bella, and if she hadn’t gotten herself together to help settle the situation, Lachlan probably would have killed him.

“Is he mad at Lachlan for the so-called indiscretion?” Pietro asked.

He knew full well that, though Bella and Lachlan were irritatingly legally wed, they had never consummated the union. His first hand knowledge as to why he was so certain of that made heat rise up his already fevered body. He was the only man who had ever been with Bella Glen, even if she was maddeningly married to another.

Bella made a strangled noise. “So-called indiscretion, is what we’re calling it?” she asked in an outraged voice.

Really, she was outraged at so many things, it was almost her normal speaking voice. Pietro rested his hand on the edge of her skirt in a placating manner, wishing he wasn’t so weak, wishing he could stand and pick her up and ride away from here. Far away from the troubles and intrigue, perhaps to a little cottage like the one they’d first …

A hearty slap shook his befuddled head and brought him back to Quinn and Bella, who were once again peering into his face.

“Ye just faded away,” Bella said in as close to an apologetic tone as he’d ever heard from her. She stroked his face where she’d just slapped him. “And yer eyes rolled back in yer head.”

“Were ye frightened for me, love?” he asked, alarmed at the froggy way his voice came out.

Quinn laughed and sat back down while Bella proceeded to get further away from him, not even deigning to answer his jest.

“I know verra well what yer father is capable of,” Quinn said, returning to their original discussion as if Pietro hadn’t fainted away in the middle of a sentence.

Pietro made a concerted effort to stay where he was, focusing on the seriousness of Quinn’s face and tone. If things were really so bad, he’d probably need to get back on the horse or run. Damn this odd weakness and terrible headache. He’d had the flu before. Hell, he’d been in fights before, and never felt this bad from either thing.

Quinn waved his hand. “Would ye like to fill him in on the illustrious history of our clans, or shall I?” he asked.

Bella shrugged. “I’ve been in Edinburgh for the last year and more, I know not what ye heathens have been up to.”

Quinn took a long drag from his canteen and settled back against a tree. “Ah, where to start? How many generations have our families been feuding?” he asked Bella.

She snorted. “A fair few,” she said. “But ye’re not the only ones we scuffle with, so ye needn’t feel put upon as special.”

“Aye, it does seem yer family has a grievance or two with some others besides us,” Quinn agreed, softening his words with a smile.

She glanced away from him and edged slightly closer to Pietro as if Quinn’s gentle smile was more dangerous than harsh words or a raised hand. It saddened him that kindness seemed to confuse her, and it made him want to protect her more than ever. Someone had to be a presence in her life that she didn’t shy away from, that she could trust to be there for her always. As much as he wanted to clasp her hand or pull her close to him, he resisted.

“What did it all start with?” Pietro asked.

He knew of clan rivalries from history books and tales his grandparents told him. They generally had to do with boundary disputes or stolen livestock and just escalated throughout the years. The people of the Highlands could be a heated lot.

“Who knows anymore,” Quinn said and Bella nodded in agreement. “But when word was sent to me that my brother had married one of the Glens, I had to get on my horse and see it for myself.”

“I could barely believe it, either,” Bella said. “My father has threatened to sell me to one or another clan to form an alliance since I came of age. But no deal was ever good enough for him. He must have been well in his cups to have agreed to a union with the Fergusons. No offence to ye, but ye’re no’ exactly powerful or advantageous so far up as ye are.”

“We do all right, lass, and prefer to keep to ourselves,” Quinn said mildly.

“Except for when yer folk are raiding our cattle,” she said, flushing with indignant pride.

Pietro cleared his throat and shifted his back against the rough bark of the tree he was leaning against. He longed to lie down and let the swaying treetops lull him into a hopefully pain free sleep, but something he was having a hard time keeping a handle on was at stake. And it seemed like someone was after them. He struggled to concentrate on the bickering pair in front of him.

“All right, I can see your families don’t get along. Ye steal their cattle and your father is a megalomaniac that has been trying to marry ye off since ye were eighteen. I get it so far, but can ye try to stay on target? Remember my head’s already pounding.”

“My father isna whatever ye just said,” Bella huffed. “And I’ve been on one bargaining table after another since I was fourteen. It’s a miracle I’ve lasted this long.”

“Fourteen!” Pietro said, disgusted. Even taking into account the cultural time differences, that seemed plain wrong.

“Were ye no’ betrothed to one of the Murrays a while back?” Quinn asked, scratching his stubbled jaw.

“Aye,” Bella said with a shudder. “That was when my aunt saved me. She pretended an illness and I went to stay with her. Niall Murray didna want to wait for my return and married my third cousin instead. I had to stay away more than a year. My father was fairly distraught and threatened if I came back sooner I would pay dearly.”

“Poor lass,” Pietro said, shocked that she told the story with nothing more than a slightly bored air. Apparently the story was just one of many attempts to marry her off for monetary or land gain.

She gave him a searching look and when she seemed to decide he wasn’t pitying her, she edged even closer to him. Her proximity sent a soothing wave of warmth over him, calming his fevered shivers. When she noticed that he was trying hard not to shake, she took off her shawl and wrapped it around him. He relaxed gratefully into the soft wool folds.

“When I was called back and told that all was well, I figured he had another suitor for me. When I found it was Galwain McGregor I admit I was well pleased about the match.”

“Easy to manage, that one,” Quinn snickered. “And near his death bed to boot. I’ll say ye got lucky.”

She narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t disagree. “But then it all went to perdition when yer devil of a brother ruined my chances of finally getting some peace.” As she said the words, Pietro could tell the reality of her situation was beginning to hit her. She blinked away rapidly forming tears, but a few spilled over onto her luminous cheeks. “Now I’m married to a brute who is miles or years away and destined to be with a man I dinna even know.” Her voice broke on a sob and she angrily scrubbed at her face, wiping her hands on her dress. She looked up over her sooty, wet lashes at Pietro and smiled tremulously. “No offense to ye,” she said. “Ye’ve been verra kind.”

A surge of strength coursed through him at her teary eyed gaze. He reached out and wiped away the last traces of tears, his fingers lingering longingly on her satiny skin. If only he could make her understand how much he loved her, that even though their situation was unfathomably strange, he’d never felt so sure about anything.

Her eyes fluttered shut and she breathed out a sigh as he brushed his thumb ever so slightly against her full lower lip. With her breath, his headache started to recede to a dull ache behind his eyes. Touching her was like a miracle cure.

“Aye, Lachlan has a way about him, does he no’?” Quinn said.

As if his hand were a venomous snake, Bella recoiled from him, her attention drawn back to Quinn. She shook her head miserably and settled her shoulders.

“What’s done is done, I suppose.” She glanced sideways at Pietro, who couldn’t drag his gaze away from her.

The residual effects still lingered. He reached for his pack to get some food, taking out a small loaf of bread and wedge of cheese and placing them on a bit of linen in front of him. He gestured at the others to dig in, but Bella merely made a face and Quinn shook his head distractedly.

“Lachlan can be verra persuasive, and yer father was glad to have the murdering scoundrel that was plaguing the countryside taken care of. Everyone loves a hero. So, I can see why he married ye to him, and I can also see why he may have seen the error of his ways once the first blush of the rose wore off, so to speak.” Quinn stood up and began to pace back in forth in front of them. “What ye say is true. We are no’ rich and our land is isolated, so no’ a great match. I can see why yer father would have been angry, but as ye say, what’s done is done. I dinna understand why he’s sent men after us, and with such obviously unfriendly intent.”

Bella shifted uncomfortably next to Pietro and made to stand as well, but then settled in closer to him instead. Her arm brushed his and he leaned against her, gratified when she didn’t move away. He looked down at her and saw she was paler than ever, brown eyes clouded with apprehension.

“Aye, about that,” she started, her voice small and wavering.

Quinn stopped pacing and dropped down before her. “About what?” he asked suspiciously.

She swallowed hard and Pietro could feel a tremor run through her. He put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her comfortingly. The fact that she didn’t pull away tipped him off that something bad was coming, and Quinn noticed it too.

“What?” he demanded. “Do ye know why yer people are heading to my land with weapons drawn?”

She whimpered and Pietro held up his free hand, motioning for Quinn to back off. “What is it, Bella?” he asked softly, glaring at Quinn for upsetting her.

“When we arrived back at the castle everyone was talking,” she said. “Yer people may be more reticent, but mine are wicked gossips.” Heat started to rise in her face as she recounted what happened. “Everyone was all atwitter about my new husband being with that strumpet at the inn, and how beautiful she was, and how I didna keep him happy after only a fortnight of marriage.” She clamped her mouth shut, her eyes blazing with anger at the shameful memories. Pietro pulled her closer but she remained stiff in his arms.

“We know that wasna the truth,” Quinn said in his best attempt to appease her.

With a pained sound, she turned on him. “How many times has something hurt ye that wasna the truth?” she snapped. “And I didna know the whole story then. All I knew was servants were snickering and looking askance at me. I was verra angry when we first returned.” Her body went from rail stiff to a ragdoll slump and she let her head drop back against the tree trunk.

“Ye were confused,” Pietro said, taking her hand and lacing her fingers with his. Feeling her smooth palm against his was fortifying.

“Bella, lass, what did ye do?” Quinn urged after she continued to look mournfully up at the tree branches.

Seconds ticked by in a long silent stretch, rife with tension, before she answered. “I told my father that the marriage was never consummated.”

Pietro almost sighed with relief when he heard that was all that happened, but then he saw the open mouthed look of horror on Quinn’s face. His dark blue eyes radiated fear as he stared aghast at what Bella had just said.

“Ye did what?” he asked in a choked voice.

He had been squatting in front of her, trying to get her to look him in the eye, but now he sat back, crossing his legs in front of him and putting his head in his hands.

“‘Twas only the truth,” Bella said, in a feeble attempt at defiance.