Highlander Most Wanted

chapter 4





As soon as the Montgomery warrior quit the room, Genevieve’s shoulders sagged, and for the first time she allowed her gaze to sweep over the gathered McHughs.

If she expected there to be any remorse in their eyes for their misjudgment of her, she was sorely mistaken. There was the usual mixture of disgust, disapproval, outright sneers, pity—yes, pity from a few—and confusion, because many of the McHughs had yet to determine why she hadn’t tried to murder them all in their sleep.

There was only one McHugh she’d dreamed of making suffer a long, drawn-out death. She’d actually been disappointed when Graeme Montgomery had ended Ian McHugh’s life so quickly. It hadn’t been bloody enough. Or painful enough. Ian deserved to suffer because he was a horrifying human being who deserved no mercy and no leniency.

Pity that Graeme had been concerned only with hying his wife to safety and so had dispatched Ian with ruthless precision so that he would no longer be a bane to anyone’s existence.

One day Genevieve would like to thank the laird in person, but there would be too many questions she had no intention of answering were she to do something so unladylike and unbecoming a gently bred lass as to offer her grave thanks for the killing of another man.

“Genevieve?”

Genevieve broke from her bloodthirsty thoughts and blinked rapidly to bring her focus back to the present. Taliesan stood in front of her, her delicate features pulled tight with concern.

Genevieve sighed. Taliesan was the closest thing to a friend that she had—not for lack of trying on Genevieve’s part to remain aloof and distant. The very last thing Genevieve had wanted was any kinship with these people.

Nay, they weren’t to blame for the actions of Ian McHugh, but Genevieve was resentful of the situation that had been forced upon her, and every slight she suffered at the hands of the McHughs had only compounded her determination never to form a bond. She wanted to be gone from this place. Someplace where she could be alone, and then maybe she could forget the last year of her existence and she could find peace.

Such an elusive creature. Peace and happiness were things she’d long taken for granted, sheltered in the loving bosom of her family.

Even now, just remembering them made her chest ache fiercely. Sorrow weighed down on her, as if she carried a load of rocks on her back.

A year ago, she’d been so happy. So very naïve, convinced that nothing bad could ever befall her. Ian McHugh had proved her wrong, and had changed her, irrevocably, from a starry-eyed young lass ready to take on life’s challenges with a smile and a laugh to a mere shell of her former self. A person she could never hope to regain.

“What is it, Taliesan?” Genevieve asked gently, not allowing her rage to bleed into her voice.

Taliesan was a sweet lass who’d dealt with adversity and remained as good as an angel despite her lameness.

“I worry for you, Genevieve,” Taliesan said in a low voice. “We have no idea what manner of man this Bowen Montgomery is. The Montgomery laird is said to be a fair man. ’Tis obvious he has great affection for his wife. ’Tis also said that he treats her with great respect and demands the same from everyone around him. In his hands, I’d not worry over the fate you would suffer.”

Genevieve reached to touch the other woman on the arm. “ ’Tis not your concern, Talie.”

“But it is,” Taliesan said fiercely. “My clan has wronged you grievously. What you have suffered at Ian’s hands makes me want to weep. Think you I don’t know all he has done to you? All he has made you suffer? And my clan is no better, because they know. They know, and yet they turn their backs because they know they did nothing to stop Ian. Just as Patrick did nothing to stop his son. And so they scorn you instead, because to acknowledge that you are a victim would be to acknowledge that they allowed you to be so.”

Genevieve’s cheeks bloomed with heat, and she felt ill hearing it so clearly outlined how evident was all that Ian had subjected her to. She hadn’t thought her humiliation could be any deeper. She was wrong.

That everyone knew sickened her. That Taliesan so clearly pitied her was more than Genevieve could bear. She longed to be away. Where she could be someone else. So that Genevieve McInnis could quietly die as she was believed to have done a year past.

“Do not interfere,” Genevieve said firmly. “ ’Tis best if you concentrate on you and your kin. Do not concern yourself with me. I’ve survived the worst. Naught can be done that is more than I’ve endured at Ian’s hands.”

“I cannot turn my back on you,” Taliesan said, her voice thick with emotion. “I won’t ignore your plight as others have done.”

“Talie, please,” Genevieve pleaded softly. “I pray that Bowen Montgomery is as fair as his brother is reported to be, and that he will allow me to travel to an abbey where I may seek refuge and seclusion.”

“Oh Genevieve, no!” Taliesan said in a shocked whisper. “What of your family? You’re young and you’ve your entire life ahead of you.”

Genevieve shook her head, sadness tugging relentlessly at her heart.

“ ’Tis better that my family believe I am dead, as was reported a year ago. I could never face them. I could never shame them thus. No man would ever want me, Ian McHugh’s whore. I would never gain an advantageous marriage. I would be a burden to my father and mother all the rest of their days. My mother’s heart would be broken, and they could never hold their heads up at court. Nay, ’tis better this way, for they have already mourned me and I died with honor. I would prefer that over living in shame and bringing dishonor to my family.”

Tears filled Taliesan’s eyes. “I hate him for what he did to you.”

Genevieve’s nostrils flared. “I hate him too, but ’tis a wasted emotion, for now he is dead and can never hurt one weaker than himself again. ’Tis time to pull together the pieces that remain and, hopefully, find … peace.”

“I will not rest until you are happy and well placed,” Taliesan ground out.

Genevieve smiled and laced her fingers through Taliesan’s and squeezed the other woman’s hand.

“I think we would have made great friends,” Genevieve said sadly. “Aye, I would count myself fortunate to have a friend such as you.”

Taliesan’s lips formed a tight, mutinous line. “I am your friend.”

Genevieve shook her head. “Nay, ’tis better this way. I would not have you suffer the condemnation of your clan because you associated yourself with me. You know not the importance of such things. It takes only a few well-placed words to destroy a lass’s reputation and ruin her chances of marriage, children, or any sort of future. Heed my words, Talie. Beware whom you ally yourself with.”

“You speak of dishonor and of dying with honor over living with shame. There is no greater dishonor than choosing loyalty based on what it loses or gains me. If marriage, a husband, children, a secure future are my forfeit for choosing a friendship with a woman with more honor in her soul than the mightiest warrior, then I have no desire for those things.”

Genevieve’s eyes widened at the determination and utter sincerity in Taliesan’s impassioned speech. She had no response. What could she possibly say?

“I thank you then,” Genevieve said softly, emotion crowding her words. “I would be honored to call you friend for as long as I remain on these lands.”

Taliesan smiled and shook her head. “Nay, Genevieve. We are friends no matter where you go from here. ’Tis the way friendship works.”

Impulsively, Genevieve pulled Taliesan into a fierce hug. She closed her eyes, savoring the contact with the other woman. It had been so long since she’d had the comfort of another. Something as simple as a hug. The support of friendship. Unwavering support—and loyalty.

All the things she’d thought long lost to her.

For an entire year, Genevieve had known only brutality in the touch of another. Ian hadn’t allowed anyone other than himself to touch her, unless it was to cause her pain or humiliation. He guarded her jealously, like a prized plaything only he was allowed to indulge in. It had been the loneliest year of Genevieve’s life. It had changed her, and she didn’t like the person he’d made her into.

Genevieve slowly let go of Taliesan, reluctant to sever the bond, no matter how momentary it had been. She was starved for the simplest of things. Human touch. Laughter. A smile. The smallest moment of happiness. Affection. Camaraderie. All the things she’d enjoyed growing up in the arms of her loving family.

Taliesan caught Genevieve’s hands and squeezed. “What will become of us, you think?”

“I know not,” Genevieve said honestly. “Their anger is directed at Ian and your laird. Ian is now dead, and the laird is long gone from this place. ’Tis doubtful he’ll return. It would serve no purpose to vent their ire on the McHugh clansmen. They know well who was responsible for the injustice heaped upon Eveline Montgomery.”

Many McHughs had stopped to listen to Genevieve’s careful explanation, and though they would never acknowledge her, she could see the relief in their eyes as they reasoned that her words made sense. Hope replaced the fear.

There were a few who were more outspoken, and determined that Genevieve not be spared even a moment’s humiliation.

“What does a whore know about the way a man thinks?” Claudia McHugh sneered.

One of the McHugh men who stood close to Claudia chuckled. “She knows their thinking in one regard. ’Tis a well-known fact she spread her legs for Ian and whoever else was present.”

Claudia and two other women snickered. “Aye, you have the right of it there. But whoring is all the lass knows. If Graeme Montgomery’s brothers want to be pleasured, the lass will spread her legs quick enough. For the Armstrongs, too, I wager.”

“With a face like that, a lass has to compensate in other areas. If she’s good enough on her back, ’tis no matter what her face looks like. A man can close his eyes.”

More laughter rang out, and Genevieve died a little more. Inch by inch, they chipped away until soon there would be nothing left to salvage.

Then a sound behind Genevieve made her turn, and the blood leeched from her face when she saw that Bowen Montgomery stood just a short distance away, flanked by his brother and the two Armstrong brothers as well.

It was equally obvious that all four men had heard Claudia’s assessment, as well as the words of the McHugh man.

Despair filled her heart and threatened to burst right out of her chest. She wanted to weep, but her tears had long since been spent, and they did no good. They never had.

Never had she wished harder for the floor to open and swallow her whole. Never had she wished so hard that she had been murdered in the raiding party that had taken the rest of her escort.

To the world, Genevieve McInnis was long dead, and now she wished with all her heart that it were true. Only then would she be able to escape the hell that was her daily existence.