Highlander Most Wanted

chapter 21





Bowen let out a groan and then pushed himself up in the bed, surprised when pain set fire to his chest. He sagged back, all his breath leaving him in an excruciating rush. What the bloody hell?

His head hit the pillow and he reopened his eyes to see Brodie Armstrong looming over his bed.

“What are you doing here?” Bowen grumbled.

“Seeing how you fare. How do you feel?”

It was an odd question, but it gave him pause, because the fuzz was starting to clear from his mind, and the more it cleared the more the ache in his skull increased.

He felt as though he’d been thrown from his horse, dragged through the mud, and then stepped on repeatedly.

“I’ve felt worse.” And it was true enough.

He struggled to make sense of why he was lying abed with Brodie in his chamber. Beyond Brodie he saw Geoffrey and one of Brodie’s men, Deaglan, standing at the end of the bed.

It was a regular gathering in his chamber, apparently.

When he tried to maneuver onto his side, at least, his chest protested and it felt as though someone had driven a thousand tiny needles into his flesh. He glanced down to see a fresh wound, jaggedly cut across his chest.

It was stitched tightly and looked clean. The stitches were close together and had sealed the flesh completely closed. Whoever had performed the task had done an excellent job.

“What happened?” Bowen asked, still rubbing bleary eyes.

His head was a vast void of nothingness, and trying to think only made it ache more vilely. His mouth was overdry, and his tongue felt large and thick. Almost as if he’d consumed far too much ale and suffered in the aftermath. Only, he knew he had done no such thing.

Brodie frowned. “We were attacked. Do you not remember?”

Rapid images flashed in Bowen’s mind. It all came in one giant bombardment until he was dizzy.

“Tell me all,” Bowen said curtly. “I want a full report. How long have I been abed? What of the rest of the clan. Did we suffer losses?”

Brodie held up his hand. “Your brother has arrived. It would be far simpler if I only give an accounting once, and he’ll want to hear the whole of it.”

“Teague? What the hell is he doing here?”

“Genevieve sent for him,” Brodie said evenly. “The lass roared the order, in fact. She sent three of your men to intercept your brother. But I’ll explain all when Teague arrives. I expect him at any moment. He was dismounting just moments ago.”

Bowen simmered with impatience, but he fell silent, nodding his agreement that they would discuss all when Teague was present.

He remembered his confrontation with Genevieve on the bank of the river. He certainly remembered seeing her bathing, and how stunningly breathtaking she was. He also remembered well how pale she’d gone when he’d asked her if all he’d heard about her involvement in Eveline’s abduction was true. The lass hadn’t needed to say a word to confirm his suspicions. It was all there to see on her face and in her eyes.

But then he also remembered staring at her in the heat of battle and being convinced she was about to fell him with an arrow, only for her to take out a McHugh warrior behind him who’d been prepared to plunge a dagger into his back. And then she’d rushed to his side, refusing to let him fall to the ground.

After that, everything was a blank. He had no recollection of any of the events that had followed. And he still didn’t know long he’d been in bed out of his senses.

“How long has it been since the battle took place?” Bowen demanded.

“Two full days,” Brodie said.

Bowen swore. ’Twas certainly long enough to be abed with an injury as paltry as his.

The corners of Brodie’s mouth turned up into a slight smile. “If it makes you feel any better, you were abed for so long because we held you down and forced a sleeping draft down your throat.”

Only a little mollified, Bowen leaned back and then pushed himself upward to a sitting position.

They didn’t have long to wait, as Brodie had suspected. Only moments later, Bowen’s chamber door burst open and Teague strode in, his face drawn into grim, worried lines.

His expression lightened when he cast eyes on Bowen, and he hurried to his brother’s bedside.

“Are you all right?” Teague demanded. “I came as fast as I could. We were nearly to Montgomery Keep when your men overtook me.”

“Aye, I am well. ’Tis a paltry wound. Not worthy of two days abed. I’ll be up on the morrow.”

Teague turned to Brodie. “What in God’s name happened?”

Brodie pulled up a chair, turned it backward, and then straddled the seat, resting his arms along the back.

“Patrick McHugh attacked, along with the McGrieves. We beat them back, but not before Bowen was injured. There was an attempt by a McHugh who’d remained behind and sworn allegiance to the Montgomerys. He snuck up on him and nearly stabbed him in the back as he did battle with another warrior.”

Teague quirked up an eyebrow. “And yet he didn’t.”

Brodie shook his head. “Nay. Genevieve felled him with an arrow.”

Teague did an instant double take. “Wait. Genevieve did what?”

“She put an arrow straight through the man’s forehead, and then she finished off the soldier Bowen had been doing battle with. The lass was fierce in battle. And she has good aim.”

Teague glanced at Bowen, his eyebrows drawn together. “What say you about this, Bowen? And what of the matter we discussed before I left?”

Bowen sent Teague a look that instantly silenced his younger brother.

“I’m more interested in the fate of Patrick McHugh. I saw him not in the heat of battle. Is he still lurking out there, hiding in some dark hole? And what of the other members of the McHugh clan. There was one traitor. Were there others?”

Brodie grimaced. “Aye. We found at least three. They were executed at dawn. They aided Patrick and the McGrieves, as well as their kin who rode with Patrick.”

“And Patrick?” Teague asked. “What of him?”

Brodie took in a deep breath. “This is rather interesting. Patrick is dead.”

“Dead? How? And who killed him? Find me the name of the soldier who ended Patrick’s life so he can be handsomely rewarded,” Bowen said.

“Well, that’s the thing,” Brodie hedged. “We found two arrows in Patrick McHugh. One in his leg and one right through his neck. Both arrows belong to Genevieve.”

Bowen and Teague gaped at Brodie and then looked at each other in astonishment.

“Are you certain it was the lass who killed him?” Teague asked skeptically.

“I saw her shoot the two men in defense of Bowen. It’s not a stretch for me to believe she felled Patrick as well. The lass is calm under pressure. And she’s lethal with that bow of hers.”

“What happened after I blacked out?” Bowen asked.

He wanted to know all, because he was haunted by strange sensations. He could swear that Genevieve was at his side, her hand touching his face. It was a soothing balm to his pain, and he hadn’t wanted her to leave. Only, when he’d awakened Geoffrey and Deaglan were present and there was no sign of Genevieve.

“Genevieve propped you up so you didn’t plant your face in the ground,” Brodie said with thinly veiled amusement. “Then she started barking orders like a seasoned commander. ’Twas she who sent riders to fetch Teague. She was concerned that we might suffer another attack, and with Bowen hurt and losses during battle we were considerably weakened.”

Bowen shook his head, utterly perplexed by the lass. He should be angry—nay, furious—with her for her part in Eveline’s abduction, and yet he couldn’t muster any enthusiasm for administering any sort of punishment for her crime.

At least, not until he heard her reasoning.

“She guarded you as fiercely as a wolf bitch with her pups,” Brodie said, admiration clear in his voice. “She stitched your wound and then stood vigil by your bedside for two days. I came in to find her sleeping next to you during the night. The lass had exhausted herself and had fallen asleep. I left before I could disturb her, but she remained in that chair by your bed for two days straight, barely eating or sleeping the entire time.”

Teague was frowning harder by the moment, and Bowen could see that he battled to remain silent. Bowen shot him a warning look before turning his attention back to Brodie.

“How many losses did we suffer?”

“Not many, but with a force as small as what we had after the departure of Aiden and Teague with the bulk of our soldiers, even a few is too many. I lost one of my men, and two Montgomery warriors were killed in battle.”

Bowen swore. “I should not have sent Teague away.”

Brodie shrugged. “ ’Twas necessary. We had need of supplies. Food. This clan has little, and if they are to survive, they need aid. Even with fewer men, we were superior on the battlefield. The men with Patrick and the McGrieves outnumbered us, but their losses are far greater than ours.”

Bowen looked to his brother. “Did you arrive at Montgomery Keep, and were you able to tell Graeme all before you received the summons?”

“Nay,” Teague replied. “We were not far from our borders. I sent half the men to give report to Graeme and to tell him of all that had occurred. I brought the remainder with me as reinforcements in case another attack is launched.”

“He was watching,” Bowen muttered. “He was hiding like a thief and awaiting his opportunity to attack in an effort to regain the keep.”

“He was a fool,” Brodie said bluntly. “And he paid for it with his life.”

“Think you the McGrieves will rally support and seek to take McHugh Keep by force?” Teague asked.

Bowen’s lips curled. “Only a fool would have attacked in the first place. So, aye, I count the McGrieves as fools, and I think they see an opportunity to add to their lands.”

“I would send word to my own father,” Brodie spoke up. “I would apprise him of the events so that he too may render aid to us. I will need to inform him of the man we lost, and he’ll likely send reinforcements along with food and goods.”

It was on the tip of Bowen’s tongue to refute that he needed anything from the Armstrongs, but he must remember now that the two clans were now allies, bonded by marriage.

Teague didn’t look any happier about it, but he too remained silent. He’d already humbled himself enough by asking that Brodie remain behind to help Bowen.

“I will stay on until support from Graeme arrives and we receive his directive. He’d not want me to leave you when you’re injured and in danger of another attack.”

Bowen nodded at his brother. Then he turned back to Brodie. “Your father, as well as Graeme, will likely send immediate word to the king. Such an upheaval will surely reach his ears, and he’ll not like the clans warring when he went to such lengths to end the fighting between the Montgomerys and Armstrongs. He’s determined to bring peace to the Highlands now that his truce with England has been reached.”

Brodie scowled. “As long as our king doesn’t interfere. His meddling has become a nuisance.”

It was obvious that Brodie still had not forgiven their king for ordering the marriage between Graeme and Eveline, even if the end result had achieved precisely what the king had wanted and the marriage had resulted in a happy union for both Graeme and Eveline.

Bowen couldn’t say he blamed him. He’d not liked the edict any more than the Armstrong clan had when it had first been rendered.

Brodie rose from his chair, swinging his leg over before pushing the chair back against the wall.

“ ’Tis time I seek my bed. Rest easy and heal, Bowen. There is still much to accomplish.”

Bowen nodded at Brodie. Teague offered his good night, and then the two brothers were left alone.

As soon as the door closed, Teague turned to Bowen, his brow wrinkled in consternation.

“What of Genevieve? Did you not confront her? What was her part in Eveline’s abduction?”

“I have not had the opportunity to discuss the matter with her,” Bowen said in a low voice.

It was a lie, and he had no love of deceiving his brother. But he knew if he told Teague the truth, the lass would be condemned in Teague’s eyes, and Bowen wasn’t ready to have judgment rendered on Genevieve. Not yet. Not when he had yet to discover why she would do such a thing.

He was still mulling over all that Brodie had related. If Brodie was to be believed, Genevieve had saved Bowen’s life. And she’d killed Patrick McHugh—a feat neither he nor his warriors had managed in the mayhem.

She was a perplexing puzzle, and one he had every intention of deciphering. He wanted time to do so before he made a rash and hasty decision on her fate. If he confided what he knew to Teague, Graeme would most assuredly find out, as would Brodie and the rest of the Armstrongs. They’d want to seek vengeance, and the idea of more pain being heaped on Genevieve turned his stomach.

“I thought you were going to seek her out,” Teague said, still not satisfied with Bowen’s words.

“Aye, and I did. I found her bathing in the river. I was set to discuss the matter, but the call to arms was sounded. I took Genevieve to the keep and ordered her to seek refuge within.”

“An order she clearly obeyed,” Teague said dryly.

“ ’Tis glad I am she didn’t. Mayhap I would not be alive if she had.”

Teague fell silent. Then he shifted in his chair, his lips pressed into a tight line. “Aye, if Brodie is to be believed, you indeed owe your life to the lass. If she killed Patrick McHugh, the Montgomerys and Armstrongs alike owe her a debt.”

Bowen could tell that Teague had no love for that admission. He was set against the lass, and Bowen couldn’t entirely blame him. She had betrayed Eveline. She’d endangered both Montgomerys and Armstrongs with her treachery.

Still, Bowen couldn’t help but think that he didn’t have the whole of the story, and, until he did, he refused to condemn her to the rest of his clan. Or Brodie’s.

Teague’s sharp gaze found Bowen. There was something akin to fear in his brother’s eyes, and Bowen’s brow furrowed as he stared back.

“How bad is it, really, Bowen?” Teague asked softly.

Perplexed, he answered, “What do you speak of?”

“Your wound. ’Tis the truth that my heart nearly stopped when we were chased down by the riders and told that the keep had been attacked and that you’d been injured. They knew nothing of your condition, and I feared to find you dead when I arrived.”

“ ’Tis naught but a scratch,” Bowen said.

Teague uttered a hmmmph. “A scratch that required extensive stitching, from what I can see. You scared me, Bowen. I’d not lose you. Especially not in a cause such as this. I’d rather lay waste to the entire clan and those who oppose us than have you struck down by a cowardly act.”

Bowen smiled. “Rest easy, brother. I’m harder to kill than that. It would seem the lass was determined that I not go down that day. Though, even if I had suffered a dagger in my back, ’tis just as likely I would have survived.”

“I’d rather not chance it if ’tis all the same to you.”

Bowen nodded wearily. “Aye, neither would I. ’Tis the truth this paltry cut pains me greatly, but I’ll not say anything lest I have another potion poured down my throat. I’ve been insensible for two days from that poison they keep feeding me.”

“I’ll leave you to rest,” Teague said, rising to his feet. “On the morrow, I’ll meet with Brodie to determine if more needs be done to ensure the safety of the keep. If it’s not too much trouble, perhaps you could remain abed and out of trouble.”

Bowen grinned and raised his arm to clasp his brother’s. “I’m glad you returned, even if I have no liking for the circumstance that prompted it.”

Teague grasped Bowen’s arm in his firm grip. “Well, don’t be surprised if Graeme himself makes an appearance after he’s heard all there is to hear.”

Bowen groaned. “God help us.”