Highlander Most Wanted (The Montgomerys and Armstrongs #2)(9)

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.