Highlander Most Wanted (The Montgomerys and Armstrongs #2)(26)

“I heard her say to Ian that he should not accept such humiliation from Eveline,” Taliesan whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks. “She told him that only a weak fool would stand back and not retaliate.”

Bowen’s jaw clenched. The deceitful bitch had turned Ian McHugh’s ire on Eveline. She’d been the cause of Eveline’s imprisonment and her terror. He would never forgive her that. And neither would Graeme.

He turned to stalk away, but Taliesan’s soft plea stopped him.

“Please, Laird, do not punish her. She’s been punished enough.”

Bowen stood a long moment, his back to Taliesan. Then he slowly turned, hating the distress in the lass’s eyes.

“Where is she now?” he demanded.

Panic flared across Taliesan’s face. “Do not hurt her!” Rage suffused her face, and she actually took a step toward Bowen as if to threaten him. “You are no better than him if you abuse her,” she spat.

Bowen blinked in surprise at her vehemence. Then he frowned, because he’d just been handed a grievous insult.

“You think I’d abuse her?”

She flushed a dull red, but her eyes still shot sparks of anger.

“I know not what you think to do, Laird. You’re angry. You feel you and your kin have been wronged. I vow you have not been wronged as much as Genevieve McInnis has.”

Bowen heaved a deep breath and then sighed. “I’ll not explain myself to you or anyone else. I am laird. However, if you think I’d abuse her or any lass, you couldn’t be more wrong. I don’t appreciate the insult, Taliesan. I won’t tolerate such from you again.”

Her lips quivered and fresh tears shone in her eyes.

“What the hell is going on here, Bowen?” Brodie demanded.

Bowen turned to see a scowling Brodie advancing toward him and Taliesan, his mouth drawn into a menacing line.

“Taliesan and I were reaching an agreement on a few things,” Bowen said in a mild tone.

“Then why is she crying?”

Brodie sounded so horrified that it nearly amused Bowen.

“Because he is a brute and he frightens me,” Taliesan blurted out. “And he’s going to hurt Genevieve. I know it. I do not trust such smooth words and promises. Ian offered them time and time again. Pretty words from fair-of-face men. No thank you.”

She ended on a shudder that had both Bowen and Brodie frowning with puzzlement. An uneasy sensation gripped Bowen’s midsection and, judging by Brodie’s black scowl, he was likely thinking along the same lines.

“What did he do to you, lass?” Bowen asked quietly.

She flinched as though he’d slapped her. It was an involuntary action brought on by the shock of his question. It was clear that she’d expected no such topic to arise, and she looked dumbfounded as to how to answer.

“N-nothing,” she stammered.

“You said you never lie,” he chided gently.

“That bastard did something to you?” Brodie all but roared.

She shrank back, and it was clear she wanted to be as far away from the two men as possible. He couldn’t blame her. They were overwhelming presences. One alone would frighten a lass senseless. But the two of them together?

“ ’Tis nothing I cannot bear,” she said in a regal tone laced with strength and acceptance. It made Bowen admire her spirit and ferocity even more. He could respect her loyalty and her protection of Genevieve. Even if he wasn’t entirely certain the lass deserved such devotion from Taliesan.

“Where is Genevieve?” Bowen asked one last time, his stare leveled directly at Taliesan. He pinned her with his most forceful look and refused to look away until she was all but fidgeting beneath his gaze.

“She does not like to bathe in front of the other women,” Taliesan said in a low voice. “They ridicule and mock her. She prefers to bathe alone, in the stream beyond the bathhouses. ’Tis the same stream that feeds the bathhouses. When Ian was alive, he forced his men to go with her, and they were allowed to look their fill. Sometimes she would go days without being clean because she couldn’t bear their cruelty.”

Bowen felt himself softening toward the lass when it was the last thing he could afford to do. There was too much about her that he didn’t understand and didn’t know. Little about her made sense to him, and the more he learned, the more intrigued he became.

“Take Taliesan to break her fast,” Bowen directed. “I have need to speak to Genevieve.”

Taliesan’s eyes were stricken. “I beg you, Laird. Be merciful with her. She’s so fragile that she could break at any moment. I don’t know how she’s managed to remain so stalwart for so long.”

“I’ll do my best, but, Taliesan, what you must realize is that if she’s a traitor to my people, she will have to be dealt with accordingly.”

Taliesan’s face crumbled and she looked away, her hands wringing in obvious distress. Brodie touched her arm and guided her back toward the keep.

Bowen sucked in a deep breath and turned in the direction of the stream that snaked through the back of the keep beyond the protective stone walls. It was foolhardy for a woman alone to venture out to bathe in the stream. Anyone could happen upon her and either abuse her on the spot or spirit her away and she’d never be seen or heard from again.

But then if she’d had to endure constant escort from Ian’s men, he could well understand why she’d seek privacy to wash herself. He paused a moment, guilt overtaking him at the idea of intruding on her. He could wait until she finished, could he not?