Highlander Most Wanted

chapter 41





The excitement of the past few days rapidly caught up to Genevieve and she slept the sleep of the dead. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was sound asleep, and she didn’t stir when the first strains of dawn began to lighten the room. Nor did she move when Rorie knocked on her door to invite her down to break her fast.

In fact, she was still sound asleep when Rorie and Eveline burst through her door close to the noon hour. Genevieve stirred when her bed bounced and she heard chatter ring in her ears.

She blearily opened her eyes to see Rorie and Eveline Montgomery in her chamber. She shook the veil of sleep from her head and attempted to push herself up.

“What’s wrong?” Genevieve croaked.

The fact that Eveline was here in her chamber was cause for alarm for Genevieve. Had she been so angered by Genevieve’s presence that she’d come straightaway to order her out? Or perhaps she wanted to voice her displeasure in person.

But nay, Eveline was smiling sweetly, her eyes sparkling with welcome. And Rorie was grinning like a fool, fairly dancing with excitement.

“That’s what we came to find out from you. If something was amiss. ’Tis nearly noon and we saw no sign of you. I knocked at your door when it was time to break our fast but you never stirred,” Rorie said patiently.

Genevieve sat straight up in bed. “Noon?” she squeaked. “I’ve slept until noon?”

“You were tired,” Eveline said in a soft, sweet voice.

Her speech patterns were different. The sounds of the words were different, but Genevieve had no issue understanding her at all.

Genevieve glanced cautiously up at Eveline, gauging the other woman’s reaction to her.

“I’m Genevieve,” she said. “And you are Eveline. I saw you …” She winced at having to bring up the fact that Eveline had been imprisoned—as had she—by Ian McHugh. “I saw you at McHugh Keep when Ian imprisoned you.”

Eveline pushed Rorie to the side and sat on the edge of the bed next to Genevieve.

“I owe you a great debt,” Eveline said solemnly. “You did much to aid me, and for that you have my thanks. Ian is—was—an evil man. I’m not sad that he is dead.”

Genevieve was overcome with guilt. She couldn’t even look the other woman in the eye. But she forced herself to hold her mouth where Eveline could see the words that came forth.

“You owe me nothing,” she said painfully. “ ’Tis my doing that you were captured to begin with. ’Tis not something I can ever forget, and I would understand if you could never forgive me.”

Eveline put her hand on Genevieve’s and squeezed lightly. “I know of your situation, Genevieve. Graeme told me all. My heart aches for you. I can’t imagine what I would have done in your position. I certainly don’t blame you for doing what you had to in an effort to gain your freedom. ’Twas an ingenious plan, and the fact of the matter is you fought for me. You protected me at great risk and shame to yourself. How can I find fault with you when you did so much to spare me? You directed my husband to where I lay imprisoned. ’Tis possible he would never have found me without your aid.”

Tears gathered in Genevieve’s eyes. She couldn’t hold them back. The kindness and understanding in Eveline’s voice were her undoing.

“There now, don’t cry,” Eveline said gently. “ ’Tis glad I am that you’re here. We’ll not allow such to ever happen to you again. Rorie and I are glad to have the companionship of another lass, especially one as brave and determined as you. Just think of all the mischief we’ll get into.”

“And ’tis why we’ve come to your chamber,” Rorie said excitedly.

She all but pounced on Genevieve, plopping down on the bed at Genevieve’s feet.

“We want to learn to use a bow, and we want you to teach us.”

Genevieve looked at the lass in confusion.

“You told me the tale of how you killed four warriors in battle with your bow and arrows, and Graeme repeated it to Eveline just this morn. ’Tis an amazing feat. You are very skilled! Eveline and I would like you to instruct us in the shooting of a bow. It would be great fun! We can start today if you’re willing.”

Genevieve shook the confusion from her mind and focused on the conversation at hand. ’Twas a bizarre happening. Rorie and Eveline were in her chamber. Eveline acted as though Genevieve had never done her wrong, and both lasses wanted her to teach them how to use a bow. It was all too much to take in.

“It would be great fun,” Eveline urged, her voice cajoling.

Genevieve finally shrugged. “Why not? ’Tis a useful skill for a lass to have. ’Tis a good thing to be able to defend yourself and those around you.”

Rorie puffed up her chest. “I will be the best at it, and then I’ll challenge Graeme and Bowen to a match. They’ll be humiliated when a mere lass defeats them.”

Genevieve broke into laughter. The truth of the matter was she absolutely believed Rorie. She seemed a determined lass, and one who excelled at every task she set her mind to. It wouldn’t surprise Genevieve at all if she bested all her brothers with a bow and arrow.

“Let me dress and collect my bow and arrows, and we’ll find a place to practice,” Genevieve said.

Rorie clapped her hands in delight. “We’ll wait for you at the bottom of the stairs. Don’t be long, Genevieve! We have much to do this day.”

Genevieve smiled. “I’ll need only a few minutes to ready myself.”


“What in God’s name are they doing?” Graeme demanded.

Bowen and Graeme had gone in search of Genevieve, Rorie, and Eveline when no one could report where the lasses were and they had been conspicuously absent the entire afternoon.

When he and Graeme climbed the hill overlooking the river, there in the distance were the three of them, shooting arrows at a flimsily constructed target.

“Do we want to know?” Bowen asked dryly. “I think Rorie is quite infatuated with Genevieve. She was most impressed by the fact that Genevieve felled four warriors during battle. She’s recounted the tale to anyone who will listen.”

“The very last thing Eveline needs to learn is how to shoot a bow,” Graeme said. “Think you I want her filling my hide with arrows when I anger her? I’m blaming you for this, Bowen. ’Tis your lass who is corrupting my wife. There’s no hope for Rorie, so ’tis pointless to complain about her wayward habits.”

Bowen sobered. “She isn’t my lass. Not for long.”

Graeme went silent, his expression full of regret. “Forgive me. I did not mean to bring up a painful topic. I know you dread the day when the McInnises arrive.”

“I’ll never love another woman as I do Genevieve,” Bowen said simply. “And because I love her, I must be willing to do what is best for her. She is not fully happy, though she is well content to be away from the McHughs. She misses her family, and she’ll never be complete unless she resolves things with her clan. She may well hate me for what I have done, but I know ’tis best. I can live with her hatred if I know she’ll find happiness.”

Graeme clasped Bowen’s shoulder. “Come, let’s see what the lasses are up to.”

The two men strode down the hill toward the women. Bowen rolled his eyes, because the first rule of battle was to be aware of your surroundings at all times. He and Graeme could have sneaked up and deprived them of their weapons, for all the attention they paid.

The lasses were so focused on their task that they never saw or heard him and Graeme approach. Eveline had good reason, of course, but Rorie and Genevieve should be more alert.

When they were but a few feet away, Graeme cleared his throat.

Genevieve and Rorie immediately spun around, while Eveline continued to fiercely concentrate on her target. She let her arrow fly, and it fell just short of the kill spot Genevieve had marked.

She turned, excitement blooming on her face, and she jumped up and down, the bow falling to the ground.

“I did it! I did it!”

Graeme smiled indulgently at Eveline’s joy, but then she took in the fact that Bowen and Graeme were present and clamped her lips shut, looking guiltily in Graeme’s direction.

Genevieve bent to retrieve the bow, dusting it off and smoothing any marks made by the fall.

“I see you’re quite busy this day,” Graeme drawled. “Pray tell, what enemy are you slaying?”

Eveline rushed to greet her husband, leaning up as far on tiptoe as she could to offer him a kiss, then she patted him on the cheek, leaving him befuddled and speechless.

Bowen smothered his laughter. Eveline knew well how to handle her husband. A kiss, a few touches, and he was completely in her thrall.

Genevieve’s eyes were full of worry as she glanced nervously at Bowen, as if she feared reprisal for instructing Eveline and Rorie on how to use a bow.

He held out his hand, not caring if the others saw. He had only a few days to be with her, and damn what anyone thought. He would take these days and savor them. Hold them close to his heart and remember them when he was old and gray.

He’d left her to rest the night before, knowing she was weary from her travels and from the anxiety of coming into a new clan where she was unsure of her welcome. But tonight she would spend in his chamber, in his arms, and every night until the McInnises arrived to bear her home.

He’d hold dear every single moment he had remaining with her, and those memories would sustain him his life through, because he knew he’d never love another as he loved Genevieve.

She shyly slid her hand into his, glancing nervously at the others for their reaction. He cared not. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, his heart swelling with emotion. God, he did not want to let her go.

The selfish thing would be to keep her here with him. To never let her family know that she was alive. To keep her close and by his side and never share her with anyone.

He wanted so much. Love. Children. To wake every morn with her curled into his side. He couldn’t imagine his life without her, but, above all else, he wanted her to be happy. She’d been denied so much, and she’d endured so much pain and humiliation.

He had to let her go so she could soar and be the woman she was meant to be. Even if it killed him. And it may well do just that.

Genevieve blushed when he pulled away and glanced hesitantly at the others to gauge their reactions, but Rorie was grinning like a fool and Eveline wore a soft smile as she took in the tenderness between Bowen and Genevieve.

“Genevieve is teaching us her skill at shooting a bow!” Rorie said.

“Aye, that much is evident,” Graeme said in amusement. “How fare you?”

Eveline clutched Graeme’s hand. “I can hit the target! ’Tis amazing!”

“So can I!” Rorie interjected. “I’m quite good,” she boasted. “I aim to challenge you and Bowen to a match. I’ll best the both of you.”

Bowen chuckled. “It would not surprise me, sweeting. You’re determined and stubborn, if nothing else.”

“ ’Tis not a bad skill to have,” Graeme said in a more serious tone. “You have my gratitude for instructing them, Genevieve. I would have Eveline able to defend herself if I’m not within reach. She means everything to me. If knowing how to use a bow saves her life, I will be forever indebted to you. I’ll set to work having bows fashioned for both Eveline and Rorie.”

Rorie squealed her excitement and Eveline clapped her hands together in delight.

Genevieve glowed with happiness and pride. Bowen put his arm around her shoulders and held her close. His own pride knew no bounds. Genevieve was an extraordinary lass. She was a survivor. Even if she was to be here only a short time, he knew Rorie and Eveline would benefit from the time spent with her.

He kissed her again, because he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t be near her without wanting to touch her and hold her close.

Eveline and Rorie exchanged smug smiles, but Bowen disregarded them.

It then occurred to him that Genevieve wasn’t wearing her cape, nor was she attempting to hide her disfigurement. He squeezed her to him and pressed a kiss to the scar.

Maybe she was comfortable around Eveline and Rorie as well as him. She’d even shed some of the fear and nervousness that she’d exhibited every time she was in Graeme’s presence.

She’d gained confidence, even if it was only around a select few, but it made him feel triumphant that she could hold her head up with no shame. In his eyes, she had nothing to feel shame over.

“Why don’t you lasses show us what you’ve learned?” Graeme suggested.

“Oh yes, let’s!” Rorie exclaimed. “I think there should be a prize for the one with the truest aim.”

“Genevieve cannot participate,” Eveline interjected. “ ’Twould not be fair. You and I will try our hand.”

Rorie’s eyes gleamed with unholy glee. “And the prize?”

Eveline pondered a moment, then her face lit up. “If I win, you must do a reading after the evening meal. One of the stories Father Drummond has taught you. It would be a lovely end to the day.”

“And if I win?” Rorie challenged.

“If you win, I’ll send a missive to my father asking for scrolls from his personal library.”

Rorie’s eyes grew round and she clasped her hands together in excitement. “Oh, I must win, then!”

“Was there any doubt?” Graeme said dryly. “A more competitive lass I’ve never known. I’m still convinced you were born a lad and we just haven’t discovered it yet.”

Rorie stuck out her tongue at Graeme and turned to Genevieve.

“You set the target, Genevieve! ’Tis you who will be judge.”

Bowen observed the glow in Genevieve’s eyes. The shadows were gone, and there was not the haunted look he’d learned to associate with her. She looked happy, as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

He wanted nothing more than to bear her back to the keep and make love to her for the next three days, until neither of them had strength any longer.

The men stood patiently and watched as the two lasses took their turns aiming at the target. Considering the short while they’d been practicing, both displayed impressive skill.

But it was Rorie who won the day, not that Bowen or Graeme was surprised. She edged Eveline about by the barest of inches with her very last shot. At which point she thrust her arms in the air and let out a bellow of victory that rivaled that of any warrior on the battlefield.

“Send word to your father, Eveline!” Rorie crowed.

Eveline smiled. “I’ll send a messenger on the morrow. My father’s library is filled with manuscripts. I’m sure there is something that will interest you.”

Rorie clapped her hands. “Anything he sends will be wonderful!” Then she threw her arms around Genevieve, and hugged her fiercely. “Thank you, Genevieve. ’Tis the most fun I’ve had in ages!”

Genevieve laughed and hugged her back. “You’re very welcome. If you continue to practice, you’ll be quite the marksman. Perhaps your brothers will seek to bring you into battle.”

Graeme scowled. “Not bloody likely. The imp finds enough trouble within the walls of the keep.”

The women laughed, and Eveline linked her arms through Genevieve’s and Rorie’s and they started back toward the keep. She turned and smiled sweetly at Bowen and Graeme.

“Be a dear and fetch Genevieve’s bow and arrows for us. I find I’m famished after so much exercise. We’re going to the kitchens to see what can be found to eat.”

Graeme sighed as the women walked back toward the keep, their chatter rising and filling the air. He shook his head and bent to retrieve the bow and the quiver that housed the arrows.

“I think my life will be anything but dull as long as they are together,” Graeme said in resignation.

But Bowen was staring after the women, his heart aching for what could be. Rorie and Eveline had welcomed Genevieve with open arms. This could be his future. Surrounded by his clan, the woman he loved, and a family so dear to him. This could be his life.

But Genevieve deserved to be with her own kin. He couldn’t imagine thinking Rorie dead and losing her. If she was alive, he’d want her back, and he’d move mountains to make it so. Genevieve’s family would be no different.