Highland Chieftain (4 page)

“Nay. He married my mother but he is nay my father. She was already carrying me when they wed. I have wondered on that, once I kenned he wasnae my father, for t'was a strange thing for him to do. But when my mother was dying, after she had Margaret, she told me the truth. She made me swear to watch over Margaret and never leave her. She was verra adamant about that.” She glanced toward where the little girl sat watching the horse.

“And ye havenae, have ye?”

“Nay, and when I thought on it, weel”—she shrugged—“it gave me some verra dark ideas as to why she would ask that.”

He nodded, easily imagining the thoughts she had. “Do ye ken who your father is?”

“What difference does it make? I will find him when 'tis time.”

“I may ken who he is.”

Bethoc sighed. “She met him at court. They were both rather young, but sixteen. She said he was all any lass could wish for.” She rolled her eyes. “But then he had to leave. Had to return home. He gave her a letter in which he put how to find him if she got with child but she lost it.
Maman
was a good woman, verra sweet and all, but I dinnae think she was particularly quick of wit. She remembered his name though. Brett Murray.” She saw the shock on his face and prayed it was because he knew the man and not because the man was notorious.

“
Jesu
,” he breathed. “Are ye certain?”

“Aye, she was verra certain too and I heard her correctly. Brett Murray. Ye would think him an angel come to earth if ye had heard her.” Bethoc softly cursed. “I fear he may have been her dream.”

“Her dream?”

“Exactly. When things are nay as ye wish them to be, ye dream of what ye wish ye could have. I think she dreamed of him.”

“Weel, I dinnae ken what he was like when he was young but he is a knight now and newly wed.”

“Ah, then mayhap I should leave him be.”

“Nay. Murrays are good folk and want to ken about offspring, those begot within and without marriage.” He shook his head. “Ye have told me now and I couldnae possibly keep it a secret from him.”

“Ye ken him weel then.”

“He is the brother of my foster father, Sir Payton Murray.” He looked toward where Margaret sat idly holding up flowers for Stormcloud to munch on. “He could be of great help.”

“I am nay looking for his help.”

The stiffness in her body matched her tone and he inwardly grimaced. He had been reluctant to tell her much; not at all sure he could trust her. What he had told her was more than enough but he was beginning to feel guilty about holding back. Her response to the idea of gaining any aid from her true father made him feel even more guilty.

“Then dinnae ask,” he said, “although I suspicion he will offer when he kens what ye are dealing with.”

“Oh. He wouldnae like my da, aye?”

“Aye. No Murray would allow such treatment of women and children.”

That sounded impossible to Bethoc but she said nothing. She had rather thought that what she lived with was not unusual, perhaps only a bit harsher than was normal and that harshness had grown as the drinking had gotten worse. The few men she had seen in her life were all much akin to her father: rough and loud with a quickly roused temper and a love of drink.

“I must think on it all,” she said as Margaret hurried over to them. “It is nay just me that I must consider.”

“Mon,” said Margaret, and toddled over to Callum who tensed as she drew near his wounded leg.

“Nay, Margaret,” Bethoc said, and caught the child. She pulled her close and pointed at the bandages on Callum's leg. “He has an ouch there. See?” The little girl nodded. “So if ye wish to say hello, go to the other side. Dinnae go near the ouch. Dinnae touch it. Do ye understand?”

“Aye.” When Margaret wriggled free of Bethoc's hold she walked a wide circle around Callum to come up on his wounded side. “Nay ouch.”

Callum laughed. “Verra true. There is nay ouch there.” He was startled when she straddled his good leg and carefully sat down.

Bethoc was shocked. Margaret had shown no hesitation in approaching the man. She had never shown such easiness around men.

“What is it?” asked Callum when he saw the way Bethoc was staring at the child who was chattering incomprehensibly about the flower she held.

“She has ne'er done such as this. 'Tis as if she has kenned ye forever.”

He shrugged. “The bairns tend to like me.”

“She has e'en started to be shy around Colin and Bean and they are but sixteen and fourteen. I am trying to make her see there is no need, nay with them.”

“Because of your father?”

“Aye.”

“Children can often sense that sort of darkness in a mon.”

“Colin and Bean would ne'er hurt her.”

“Which is why she is only shy around them and nay afraid.” Callum sighed. “'Tis how I kenned I could trust Payton. Moira, a wee lass who was one of us, had no fear at all of the mon. None.”

“And ye needed to ken that.”

“Oh, aye, I needed that.” He laughed when Margaret held the flower against his nose and then he took a deep sniff. “Verra nice. Verra pretty.”

Bethoc watched them for a little while, her sister babbling away, and Callum patiently responding. He had a way with children. There was a kindness in him she could not ignore but she knew she had to, should not place too much worth on it. She hated to end it but she had to get back home. Fortunately, Margaret only protested a little when she picked her up.

“I am nay sure when I can return, which is why I brought ye so much food,” she said as she settled Margaret on her back. “My father noticed I was gone last time. He accused me of meeting with a mon.”

“Weel, ye are,” Callum said, and returned her brief smile.

“Nay as he thinks. I will return before ye have need of more food, even if it is only to dash in and leave some. Rest, Sir Callum.”

“'Tis about all I do,” he grumbled.

“Because 'tis the best medicine.”

Then she was gone and Callum sighed as he leaned against the wall. It was going to be a very long few weeks. He worried about Cathan but knew he could do nothing about the boy, and all his instincts told him the boy was in good hands. Despite her father's tendency to hit, the boy was still safer where he was than trapped in a cave with a crippled man.

He glared down at his leg. Despite what Bethoc said, he was sure he would be useless for a few months at least. It was a wretched time for such an injury. Callum shut his eyes and sighed. He would have to put his faith in Bethoc. She was the only thing that kept him alive. Since he did not think that was much to count on, he also prayed his friends would find him soon. He was going to need their help.

Chapter Four

“Where is the food?” demanded her father as he marched into the house followed by the boys.

“Near to ready,” said Bethoc as she turned to the meat on the spit.

“Damn weel should be,” he grumbled as he moved to clean up, all the boys waiting patiently as he used the water first.

A flash of anger went through her but she forced it down. He had no right to complain about the meals, the timing or the quality. That made no difference to him, however. Criticizing was what he did best.

Bethoc looked at the boys. They all wore the tight, blank expressions she knew hid strong emotions. Cathan looked as if he fought tears but she saw no visible bruises on him and suspected the boy was just not accustomed to such constant tension and alarm. Her father needed to be more careful, however. He was losing his workforce but she doubted he took much notice.

By the time everyone was seated, and after her father had taken his share first, they began to eat. Bethoc was wondering how he could not sense the anger the boys were holding in. She could and could barely eat because of it. Something had happened and she wished she had the freedom, and courage, to just demand to know what was wrong.

Kerr Matheson was pushing too hard, she thought. The boys had never been so unified in their anger. She was going to need to have a talk with them, she decided. They were still too young, too weak, to go up against the man. Bethoc did not even want to think of what would be the result of such a confrontation. They were also too young to just leave and face the world.

There was no talk over dinner and that was different. It could be because he had been in the fields with the boys but she suspected it was because the boys were intent on being silent. Her stomach was tied up in knots as she waited for something to happen, for the confrontation that was so obviously brewing. She prayed her father was not in the mood for a fight. He ended that hope with his next words.

“Are ye going to sulk for the whole night?” Kerr asked, his attention still on his food.

“Ye destroyed weeks of work,” Colin burst out.

“Ye shouldnae have wasted precious time on planting berry bushes.”

“Food is ne'er a waste of time.”

She could not fully stop herself from jumping when her father lunged across the table and grabbed Colin by the front of his shirt. It was immediately followed by a hard slap to the boy's face. Bethoc could see Colin clenching his fists repeatedly as their father threw himself back into his seat.

“Ye best watch what ye say, boy. Show some respect.”

“To what? Ye throwing a fit and ripping out weeks of work? For nay reason at all!”

Bethoc whispered a protest but no one paid her any heed as her father rose from his seat, grabbed Colin, and dragged him across the table. The way the man set on the boy alarmed her. Colin got in a few good blows but one good punch to the head ended his fight. It did not stop her father, though. She raced to the man, grabbed him by the shoulders, and tried to pull him off Colin.

“I told ye to ne'er dig there. Ye wouldnae listen. Ye ne'er listen. Dinnae dig there!”

The boys ran to help her. Finally her father stood up. He shook himself, grabbed his cloak and hat, and walked out. Bethoc looked down at Colin and had to choke back a sob. He was a mess. Her father had never beaten Colin like this before. Instructing the boys to move him onto Kerr's bed, she rushed to get what she would need to treat his wounds.

By the time she had bathed and bandaged his injuries, Colin was awake. “Why? Ye ken how he is. Why goad him? Why let him see how ye feel?”

“We worked so hard on those bushes but ne'er once neglected our other work. I couldnae see the harm.” He winced as he tried to move. “The mon took one look and went mad. Ripped the whole lot up, screaming at us the whole time.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Nay, it doesnae, does it. He has ne'er cared what we plant, ne'er done more than look and grunt. But, though he never gave us any compliment, he didnae complain, either.” Colin struggled to get up and Bethoc helped him, the other boys staying close by him once he was on his feet.

“Ye should go to bed, Colin,” she advised as, with Bean's help, he started out the door.

“Nay, he is hiding something and I mean to find out what.” There was a mutter of agreement from the other boys and Bethoc quickly picked up Margaret and followed them.

It was a short walk to the field the boys worked but Colin was pale and sweating when they reached the place. It was a small field, not one they used for their crops that went to market, but mostly for a kitchen garden. She looked at the bushes tossed carelessly in a pile as if readied for burning. It was a waste and she could not understand Kerr Matheson's actions. Then, as she thought back on what she had wondered about her mother and why the woman had never had any other children until Margaret, she felt a chill. Suddenly she was terrified of what they might find.

Colin was settled against a tree as she sat beside him while the boys dug around. She felt her stomach tighten with every shovelful of dirt tossed to the side. Colin was right. Kerr was hiding something and they did have a right to know. She just feared it was going to be bad.

“Bethoc, what do ye think we will find?” Colin asked.

“I dinnae ken,” she replied.

“Och, aye, ye do. Ye are like a cat sitting on a wasp waiting for the sting.”

“Babies,” she whispered. “I was thinking the other day how odd it was that my mother had no bairns for near to twenty years.”

“
Jesu
.” He ignored Bethoc's muttered scold for his language. “'Tis a possibility. Lassies, I would wager. He ne'er had a use for lassies.”

“Aye, 'tis what I thought.”

“The bastard. I ne'er saw it. Ne'er saw your mother with child or birthing one until this little wretch.” He tickled Margaret's foot.

“Hey, Colin, I found something,” called Liam, his freckled face pale with alarm.

“What is it?” asked Colin.

“Something wrapped in a rotting blanket.”

Colin clasped Bethoc's hand when she made a small sound of distress. “Put it aside and keep digging.” He looked at Bethoc. “We have to ken, Bethoc.”

“And when we ken what do we do about it?”

“That I dinnae ken. I am just certain
we
need to ken what he has done. For our own sake. For our own safety. We have to ken what he is capable of.”

By the time the boys were finished they had found four little bodies. Bethoc wept silently as she looked at each one. No wonder her mother had become more and more lost in her dreams. She had lost so much. It was why she had made Bethoc promise to never leave Margaret. She knew at least some of these babies had been killed. Knew it without a doubt yet there was nothing she could do about it. All her father had to do was swear they were born dead. She had no power, neither did the boys, and all they had was bones.

Once the babies were reburied next to her mother's grave, they all moved silently back into the house. After Colin was helped into his bed, Bethoc had the strong urge to go see Callum. She did not know why, only that she had a need to be with him, mayhap even to speak of the bairns. It was still light enough but it had been three days since she had seen him. It was an urge she really did not understand but she decided to give in to it.

Before she thought on it too much, she packed up Margaret and a basket full of food and set out. It would not be long before the sun began to sink in the sky but she felt she had time enough. She paused to study the berry bushes near the bottom of the hill. They were nearing ripeness so she set down her basket and pulled some netting out of her bag to drape each bush in the hope of saving at least some berries from the birds. It was just as she was about to pick up her basket and head to the path leading to the cave that she knew she was no longer alone.

Afraid, she turned to survey the clearing. Her heart leapt with fear as she saw five men ride into the clearing. They had already seen her and were heading straight for her. She waited, for every instinct told her that running would be a mistake.

The man in the lead stopped and studied her for a moment before speaking. “Mistress, we are searching for someone. A mon. Our friend became separated from us and we are trying to find him, fearing he may be hurt.”

It was well said, but Bethoc did not believe a word of it. “I have seen no one.”

“No one?”

“Nay, no one.” She took a step back when he dismounted for his smell was bad and not from his unwashed state. “I came here to try and protect the berries that are so near to ripening.” She waved toward the bushes.

“What is in the bag?”

His voice, she noticed, was getting colder and harder. “Weel, it held the nets I needed and now all it holds are the things Margaret may need,” she replied, finding it very easy to lie to him and trying hard not to glance to where she had set the basket of food just behind one of the bushes while she had arranged the nets. “'Tis Margaret's bag.”

He reached for the bag but Margaret's hand grabbed it first. Once declared hers, the child would never let it go. To her surprise Margaret screeched. The man jerked back, releasing the bag as he stared at Margaret. A peek at her sister revealed Margaret's sweet face pressed into a fierce scowl, her bottom lip pushed out. Bethoc had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself from laughing.

“Make her let go of the bag,” he ordered.

Worried they might do something to Margaret, she reached for the bag handles. Margaret clutched the bag as close as she could and growled. It was hard not to laugh. She struggled with Margaret until the men waiting on their horses started laughing.

“Och, leave it with the brat.” The man glared at Bethoc. “Ye are certain ye havenae seen any mon wandering about?” Bethoc shook her head. “Fine,” he grumbled as he remounted and scowled at Margaret. “Little brat.
Jesu
,” he yelled when Margaret screeched at him.

Bethoc watched them leave then glanced back at Margaret. “Weel done, my clever lass,” she said, and kissed her on the forehead.

Margaret bounced and Bethoc fought to keep her balance. She fought with the child for a moment to loosen the bag from her little hands. Then she had a good look around and saw no one, nor did she hear their horses. Deciding she needed to move quickly, she grabbed her basket, hurried up the path, and moved just enough brush to slip into the cave, yanking the brush back in place.

“Greetings, Mistress Matheson,” Callum said, biting back a smile, but he quickly grew serious when he saw her face more clearly. There was the hint of fear there. “Is anything wrong?”

She unhooked Margaret and set her down then kissed her on the forehead again. “Smart lass.” She looked at Callum and felt something inside her ease a little. “I believe I just met your attackers.” A shiver went through her even though the men had not threatened her.

He sat up quickly. “Are ye all right?”

“Oh, aye. They asked about ye. Said they were looking for a lost friend and feared he may have been hurt. Wanted to look in my bag.”

Margaret walked over to Callum, bent over a little, and shoved her forehead close to his mouth, pointing at it. “What is this?” he asked.

“Ah, I think she expects ye to say ‘smart lass' and kiss her forehead.” She laughed when he did so and Margaret walked away looking very pleased with herself only to grab the bag and drag it with her when she went to sit and watch the horse.

“Why did I just do that?” he asked.

“Because when he tried to grab the bag, she would nay let him have it. Screeched at him. Held on tight, too. Ye see, I called it Margaret's bag. No one was going to get hold of it after that.” Bethoc sat down next to him and began to unpack the food. “It wasnae until he tried to get the bag that I feared I might have put Margaret in danger but they really were nay interested in us once I couldnae tell them anything about ye.”

“That was it? Ye said it was hers?”

“All it needed. If Margaret hears ye say something is hers, she grabs it and 'tis verra, verra hard to get it back. She is a wee bit possessive about what is hers. I think I shall have to do something about that. 'Tis nay a good thing but it was useful this time.”

Callum could not help it, he started to laugh. “Defeated by a two-year-old?”

“I suspicion a lot of people have been,” said Bethoc, smiling faintly.

He laughed even harder. “Och aye.”

It was a few minutes before he could calm down. “Did they nay ask about the food?”

“Nay, I had put the basket down behind a bush for I needed to cover the bushes with netting and it was getting in the way. It was nicely out of sight. But it does mean they are still lurking about the place. That cannae be safe for ye.”

“I am as safe here as I would be anywhere. Dinnae worry on it.”

“There are five of them and none of them have a broken leg.”

“True but they have to find the cave.”

“I ken it. I will be sure to hide my trail when I leave.”

He put his arm around her and tugged her close, kissing her forehead. She blushed but also smiled. “Are ye going to call me ‘smart lass' now?”

“And so ye are.” He tipped her face up to his. “Ye also worry far too much about what happens to everyone but ye.” Keeping an eye out for any sign of rejection, he gave in to the temptation he had fought for days and kissed her.

Bethoc felt the warmth of his mouth on hers flood her body. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tightly. Although she had gained a tiny bit of knowledge about kisses, she had never known they could make one feel so warm and needy. When he nudged his tongue into her mouth, she was startled but that surprise lasted only a moment. The feel of his tongue stroking inside her mouth caused a delicious tightening in her belly. Her heart pounded and she had the urge to crawl up in his lap, to get as close to him as she could possibly get.