Highlander Most Wanted

chapter 35





Genevieve left her chamber a few hours after Bowen departed, even though he’d told her to remain inside. Normally, she’d obey his dictate—she’d done so until now—but the tiny, cramped chamber was driving her daft and she needed but to stretch her legs a short while.

She paused outside Taliesan’s door, tempted to see if she was within. Genevieve would feel better with the lass’s company, but neither did she want to involve Taliesan if one of the McHughs came across Genevieve and hurled insults and accusations at her.

Genevieve had been very careful to avoid the majority of the McHugh clan ever since the battle, and she knew not if they had knowledge of her part in Patrick’s killing. But even if they didn’t, the fact that she’d been the reason for Corwen’s death was enough for them to vent their anger on her.

Gathering her cape and hood around her, she rapidly descended the stairs, hesitating as she peeked into the hall. ’Twas time for the noonday meal, and many were gathered round the tables in the hall. She’d make her escape through the exit to the courtyard and pray that she passed unmolested.

Ducking her head, she hurried on her way, her stride rapid. The wind pulled at her cape when she stepped outside, and she shielded her eyes from the sand and grit kicked up by the gusts.

When she rounded the corner, she came face to face with a group of women who were returning from the river with their washing.

Their expressions turned to anger the moment they realized it was she. One woman dropped the basket of damp clothing and, without saying a word, picked up a rock and hurled it at Genevieve.

It struck her on the arm, and she flinched in pain. She turned to protect herself and, to her horror, the other women followed suit.

“Whore!” one spat as she threw a rock that sailed over Genevieve’s head. Thank God.

“Murderer!”

The litany of names made Genevieve recoil. She took her hands from their protective barrier long enough to collect her skirts so she could run back toward the keep as fast as she could.

One of the rocks struck her square in the middle of her back, and she cried out in pain. Another grazed her temple, and she felt the warm trickle of blood slide slowly down her cheek.

But it was the one that hit her in the back of the head that felled her.

She went sprawling forward and nearly fell into the arms of Teague Montgomery as she rounded the corner to the courtyard.

She hit the ground with a painful thud, but she knew she couldn’t remain down. They’d be on her like a pack of wolves, and she feared they wouldn’t stop until they killed her.

“What the devil?” Teague demanded as he knelt on the ground beside her.

As he turned her over, she saw that Brodie Armstrong was at his side, and his face was drawn into a fierce scowl.

Teague wiped his thumb over the blood on her face, his eyes narrowed. “Who did this to you?” he demanded.

“They’re coming,” she gasped.

Teague glanced up, and Genevieve could hear the shriek of the women as they rounded the corner, their thirst for blood—her blood—evident in their cries.

“Brodie,” Teague barked. “See to it.”

Teague gently gathered her in his arms, shielding her all the while with his own body. Brodie roared his order for the women to halt and then he laid into them for what they’d dared.

Genevieve huddled in Teague’s arms, her head burrowed into his chest as he rapidly strode for the door to the keep. Her prayers were answered when he bypassed the hall and headed straight up the stairs to her chamber.

When he shouldered through her door, he plunked her down on her bed, and then immediately left her to wet a washcloth in the basin.

She lay there numbly, shock making her cold and insensible. She was vaguely aware of pain in her head and in other places, but all she could picture over and over was the rage and hatred on the faces of the women.

Oh God, she would never have a place here. She’d known it, but somehow having Bowen here had made her look beyond the intense dislike the McHughs had for her.

She closed her eyes as a tear squeezed from the corner of one and slid wetly down her cheek.

“Don’t cry, lass,” Teague said gruffly. “ ’Tis enough to make me panic.”

Her eyelids fluttered open and he swam in her vision. He sat on the edge of the bed next to her and, with a frown of concentration, carefully wiped the blood from her scarred cheek.

She was mortified to have him in such close proximity performing such an intimate task. But he held her chin firmly with one hand so she couldn’t turn away while he cleaned the wound with his other hand.

“ ’Tis naught but a knick,” he assured her as he pulled the cloth away. “It won’t leave a permanent mark.”

Her eyes watered again, and she had to call back the laughter that threatened to escape. “The last thing I’m concerned about is another mark on my face,” she said with a sob.

Sympathy twisted his features. Then he rose, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Shall I fetch Taliesan for you?”

She shook her head. “Nay,” she whispered. “I’d rather be alone right now.”

Teague nodded and started for the door. “Summon me if you have need of anything. I’ll make sure food is brought up for your meal.”

“Thank you,” she said gratefully. “And thank you for helping me.”

Anger darkened his eyes. “ ’Tis disgraceful how they abuse a mere lass. Bowen will be furious. Graeme will not tolerate such,” he amended.

She lifted her fingers to touch the tender spot on her temple and moved it around to inspect the bump on her head.

“Are you all right?” Teague asked gently.

She took in a deep breath and dropped her hand into her lap to grip her other hand. She faced him bravely, determined not to allow him to see how affected she was by the blatant show of animosity.

“Aye, I’m fine,” she said. “Thank you for your aid.”

Teague nodded and left her chamber, closing the door behind him.



“You’ve been out here for hours,” Graeme said dryly.

Bowen turned his head from where he sat on one of the rock outcroppings overlooking the river to see his brother standing a short distance away.

He sighed. “I’ve been thinking.”

Graeme took a step forward until he was directly next to Bowen, his booted feet mere inches from the water lapping the bank.

“Aye, that much is obvious. You didn’t even hear me approach. What is it that has you so occupied?”

“Genevieve.”

“Ah. That explains much,” Graeme said.

Graeme settled onto the rock next to Bowen and stared over the water as Bowen was doing.

“And what have you decided about the lass?”

Bowen closed his eyes, not wanting to voice his thoughts. His heart was filled with a piercing ache and he was overwhelmed with grief for what he must do.

“I have to let her go,” he said, his voice breaking halfway through the words.

Graeme turned his stare on his brother.

“She’ll never be happy unless she’s been reunited with her family,” Bowen said. “ ’Tis not fair to her or them for them to go on thinking she died. I heard the longing in her voice when she spoke of them. They love her and she loves them. She was very dear to them. Their only daughter. I cannot be selfish and take her away with me and keep her only unto myself. She’s been denied choices for far too long. How can I be another force in her life that does the same? I want her. God, I want her. I love her. But I want her to be happy more than I want myself to be happy. And I cannot bear the thought that there would always be sorrow in her eyes were I to take her to Montgomery Keep and perpetuate this myth that she is no one. Not important.”

Graeme slid his hand over Bowen’s shoulder. “I think you’re doing the right thing. The lass has had nothing but heartache, and ’tis true she’s been denied a choice in everything. I can only imagine the grief that her clan has endured thinking she is lost to them. You do a good thing reuniting her with her kin.”

“She may hate me for it,” Bowen said bleakly. “I speak of denying her choices, and yet I seek to go against her wishes by informing her family that she lives. She will not thank me for it.”

“Sometimes the right thing is the most painful choice,” Graeme said quietly.

“Aye, I know it.”

Graeme’s eyes were full of sympathy, and regret filled his face. “I am sorry for your grief, Bowen. I can’t hope to understand the choices before you. I would be devastated if I ever had to face giving up my Eveline.”

“I would bring more trouble upon my clan were the McInnises to discover that their daughter was alive and under my protection. But, most important, I don’t think Genevieve will ever truly be happy if all is not resolved with her family. And I want her happiness more than I want my own.”

Graeme put his hand on Bowen’s shoulder again but remained silent as the two brothers gazed into the distance.

There was naught to say when Bowen was dying on the inside.

“Bowen!”

Bowen tensed at the distant call. He and Graeme both turned to see Teague approaching, a grim frown on his face.

“A group of McHugh women were doing their damnedest to stone Genevieve,” Teague said without preamble.

Bowen shot to his feet. “What?”

“I came upon her fleeing back to the keep with a mob of women on her heels hurling rocks at her. I took the lass back to her chamber and tended her wounds.”

“How badly is she hurt?” Bowen demanded.

“I think she’s just shaken up. She had one cut to her face, and she likely has bruises where the other rocks landed, but she was just frightened and upset. I told her to remain above stairs and not to come out.”

Bowen swore violently, his fingers curling into tight fists. “ ’Tis no way for her to live!”

He raked one of his hands through his hair and turned away, fury pumping through his veins.

“I cannot allow it to continue, Graeme. They’ve made the lass’s life hell. They won’t stop in their attempt to make her unwelcome here.”

“I understand,” Graeme said in a voice quiet with sympathy.

Bowen tried to collect his thoughts when his only thought was to go to her as quickly as possible. He turned to his brothers—both of them—his expression grim and determined.

“I cannot stay here with her. Even if I send word to her family. I cannot allow her to remain here another day. They hate her. ’Tis no way for Genevieve to live, and she cannot remain a prisoner in her chamber.”

He glanced up at Teague and then looked between him and Graeme.

“Will you stay, Teague, and carry out Graeme’s wishes as to the fate of the clan and the lands? I must return to Montgomery Keep and bear Genevieve with me so that she will be safe.”

Teague looked surprised and glanced at Graeme to gauge his opinion.

“I’m agreeable if you are,” Graeme said. “ ’Tis a lot to ask, but no more than I asked of Bowen. You have a mess here. ’Tis no doubt on that matter. It’s going to require a strong hand and much patience. What say you, Teague? Are you up to the task?”

Teague’s expression was solemn, but he nodded. “I’ll not tolerate the ridiculousness that Bowen has. ’Tis time someone took a much firmer hand with the lot of them.”

Graeme’s eyebrows rose. “I hardly call killing three of them having a light hand. Some might say he’s been overly intolerant.”

“They need to have the wits frightened from them,” Teague muttered. “Their women are nothing more than shrewish harpies intent on making everyone around them miserable, and their men are cowardly weaklings.”

Graeme turned to Bowen. “Perhaps ’tis best if you send word to Genevieve’s family and direct them to Montgomery Keep. Tell them all, but allow them to meet her at our keep. Their anger will be high if they’re forced to come to the clan responsible for all the harm done to their daughter. And, with the McHughs so hostile toward Genevieve, ’tis likely the McInnises will come ready to go to war. I wouldn’t blame them if they wanted to wipe the earth clean of the McHughs’ existence. If they ever did to a daughter of mine what they’ve done to Genevieve, I would not rest until I’d shed every drop of their blood.”

“Aye, ’tis the best course. I would remove her from this place immediately,” Bowen said. “If you’ll transcribe my words to the McInnis laird, I’ll send a messenger before we depart for Montgomery Keep.”

Graeme nodded. “Of course. I’ll write the message as you dictate it. I’ll accompany you back to our keep. I’ve seen enough. It turns my stomach to remain here any longer.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go to Genevieve to see if she is all right and also to tell her of our departure,” Bowen said. “I’ll dictate the letter to her kin, and we’ll depart at dawn tomorrow.”