Highlander Most Wanted (The Montgomerys and Armstrongs #2)(48)

Genevieve bit into her lip as if to stifle something she was about to say. Then she merely looked away, refusing to meet his gaze any longer.

“What is to be done with me?” she finally asked, her gaze still averted.

Her shoulders slumped in a posture that screamed defeat. Resignation. It pained him to see her so lifeless when he knew deep inside that there existed a passionate, vibrant woman.

He took in a deep breath, knowing his decision would be met with arguments from both his kin and the Armstrongs if Genevieve’s part in Eveline’s abduction was ever brought to light.

“I made you a promise, lass. One I intend to keep. I told you that I would either see you well placed within my own clan or I would see you entered into an abbey, as was your wish. ’Tis more likely that, given what you did, the abbey would be a better choice. I know not if my kin would ever forgive the wrong you did to Eveline.”

A tear trailed down her perfect, unmarred cheek. The scarred side of her face was turned away, as was her habit, and she presented such an image of loveliness and tragedy that his breath caught in his throat.

He had the fiercest urge to pull her into his arms and offer her comfort. He doubted the lass had experienced anything resembling comfort in all the time she’d been in captivity.

“I do not deserve for you to keep your promise, Laird. It was exacted when you knew not what I’d done. ’Tis perfectly understandable if you wish to go back on your word. I would not blame you.”

“But I would blame myself,” Bowen said. “I am not without sympathy for your plight. I cannot even say that your plan was not without merit. If ’twas any other woman than my brother’s wife that we spoke of, I would not feel the anger that overcame me when I discovered what you’d done. ’Tis hard for me to be objective when I know Eveline and the gentleness of her spirit. And yet I cannot discount the desperation and necessity of your actions. I cannot find fault with a lass for only wanting to be free.”

A choked sob ruptured from her throat. She put a balled fist to her mouth in an attempt to stifle the sound of her distress. When she spoke, her voice cracked from the strain of holding back her sobs, and yet her words were earnest and heartfelt.

“I would not wish harm on another, even to save myself. You have to believe that.”

Bowen studied her a long moment, his heart aching with the need to touch her. “Aye, lass,” he said. “I believe I do at that.”

“I should go now,” she said, rising with haste, the ends of the blanket flapping in the breeze. “The others will have risen, and I would not have them find me in a state of undress in your presence.”

“Nay,” he murmured. “You have suffered the opinions of others too much already.”

He watched as she made her way back to the keep. She made a forlorn picture, barefoot, her hair wet from her bath, and the drying blanket wrapped around her. When she topped the rise, she paused for a brief moment and looked back at him, their gazes connecting across the distance. And then she turned toward the keep and slowly disappeared over the ridge.

Chapter 23

“Where on God’s earth have you been?”

Such was Bowen’s greeting when he entered the hall to find Brodie and Teague about to break their fast.

Bowen sat next to Teague and across from Brodie.

“A good morning to you, too,” Bowen said dryly.

Teague frowned. “You shouldn’t be out of bed, and what were you doing outside the keep? You had no one with you?”

Bowen chuckled. “When I need a keeper, I’ll most assuredly come to you, little brother.”

“Did you lose your shoes wherever it was you went?” Brodie asked mildly.

Bowen glanced down at his feet with a grimace. “I had no need of them for bathing.”

“Why are you so bloody cheerful this morning anyway?” Teague asked suspiciously. “For a man who was wounded in battle, you don’t seem too aggrieved over the matter.”

Bowen rolled his eyes. “Would you prefer I stomp around and bellow, ‘Off with their heads’?”

“Depends on whose heads you’re demanding to be cut off,” Brodie offered.

“I can think of one,” Bowen said, looking pointedly at Teague.

“I’ll tell you, if the Montgomerys don’t arrive soon with different fare to eat, my stomach may eat itself from the inside out,” Brodie grumbled. “ ’Tis impossible to coordinate a hunt when we’re trapped at the keep for fear of attack.”

Teague stared down at this morning’s offering and poked at it with his knife. “I’m not even sure what this is supposed to be. ’Tis not even warm, and the taste isn’t something I can identify.”

Brodie leaned down and sniffed, his expression promptly turning sour. “ ’Tis a wonder the McHughs have survived this long if this is what they eat on a daily basis.”

“Perhaps we should inspect the larder,” Bowen said. “Or perhaps ’tis better we never discover what’s within.”

Teague nodded his agreement and then pushed his food aside. “I have not the stomach for this today. I was dreaming of savory food back at Montgomery Keep when we were overtaken by the soldiers bearing us news that you were under attack.”

Brodie’s eyes gleamed with sudden light. “What say you we make a round of the borders. It could double as a hunt and, God willing, we’ll bring back something that’s actually fit for the table.”