Chapter Eleven

Maisie had awoken wet, hungry, stiff, bone cold, and in a foul mood, and it was not made better by Eppie trailing her to the river. Maisie wanted to be alone for a breath and wash the grime from her skin before she collected more on the second leg of the journey to the Stewart stronghold today. She stopped at the edge of the embankment, her side aching from her fast pace through the woods to the river. At least the brisk walk had chased away the gooseflesh that had been peppering her arms.

She stared down at the raging water as her thoughts tumbled in her head. Behind her, twigs snapped as Eppie moved closer.

“I ken all of ye despise me and my brother, so why bother following me down to the water to see to my safety?” Maisie asked, still picturing the shirtless Graeme ordering Eppie to accompany Maisie to the river. He’d been the first thing she’d seen when her eyes had opened, and it bothered her immensely that she could be drawn physically to a man who was trying to destroy her family. He might be the most ruggedly handsome man she’d ever seen, but he was also the most cold-hearted man she’d ever met.

“We dunnae ken ye well enough yet to decide if we should despise ye,” Eppie said, stepping up to the edge of the embankment by Maisie. “And I follow ye to the river because Graeme asked me to, and he did so for yer safety. These woods are nae safe to be out in alone. If someone should come upon ye, better there to be two of us than one.”

“I would think ye both would be happy to be rid of me if someone should take me,” Maisie replied, still staring at the fast-moving water. Given how much it had rained last night, she wasn’t surprised by the flowing river today. She looked to her right where the embankment sloped toward the shallow part of the river. That’s where she would pick her way in to wash herself.

“We dunnae wish harm to ye, lass, but if we find ye kenned of yer brother’s and da’s actions—”

“My da’s,” Maisie interrupted, frustrated that they kept insisting Brody had known of her father’s misdeeds. She had thought about it all night because it had needled her when Graeme said it was ridiculous to believe her brother, the laird, had not known of them being held prisoner by one of his own men at the abbey. But Bernard was not her brother’s man. He had been her father’s, and if her father had told Bernard to keep Eppie and Graeme there in secret until his death or theirs, that’s exactly what Bernard would have done. Brody had not been to the abbey since their father’s death. He’d been too busy leading the clan and fighting wars for their ungrateful king.

“If we find that ye kenned of our imprisonment or the treachery,” Eppie began again, “then we will wish justice upon ye, as we do yer brother and as we did yer father.”

“I did nae ken it, nor did my brother. And even if I have to go without food or shelter the rest of this journey, Graeme will nae make me say my brother lied.”

“Ye’re a muleheaded lass. He did nae ask ye to say Campbell lied. Graeme asked ye to admit it was a possibility .”

Maisie jerked her attention from the water to the older woman beside her. Eppie was right. That was what Graeme had asked. “There is nae any room for that to even be a possibility.”

“So ye are with yer brother every moment of every day?” Eppie asked with the raise of an eyebrow.

“Nay, but—”

The woman gave a dismissive wave. “Then it’s a possibility. Ye just dunnae wish it to be because ye love him.”

“My brother is a good man.”

“Every man has good and evil in him, Maisie. Ye have only kenned the good, but that does nae mean there is nae evil dwelling in there, too.” The woman stared at her, eyes squinting against the sun, lines of age gathered around them. The sharp bones were starkly visible under her age-weathered skin, and her sun-spotted hand rose to ward off the glare. It trembled, and suddenly Maisie was filled with pity and humiliation for her father’s actions. This woman had spent the better part of her life as a prisoner at the abbey when she should have been wed and having bairns, all because Maisie’s da had commanded it.

A lump formed in Maisie’s throat. She swallowed past it and spoke. “I am sorry for what ye and Graeme endured, but ’tis nae my doing, nor my brother’s, and ye all want to destroy us for something my da did. My da paid the price. He’s dead, and ye all seem to want vengeance against us, despite it nae being our fault.”

Eppie met her gaze, unblinking. “If we find Bernard or the others and learn yer brother was innocent, then we will nae seek vengeance against yer brother. We search for them for that purpose. But what will ye do if the proof is irrefutable? Will ye continue to turn a blind eye because the Campbell is yer brother?”

What would she do if that happened? She could hardly even imagine such an outcome. If she were to discover Brody had known, would she keep the information to herself to protect him?

She frowned. “Ye are trying to plant seeds of doubt in my head about my brother. I will nae doubt him. This is what I see: a vengeful, coldhearted brute of a man, so desperate to have revenge that he will do anything to achieve it, even accuse an innocent man without proof.”

“He’ll get the proof, and then ye will see,” the older woman said. “And ye kinnae say what Graeme is like because ye dunnae even ken him, nor have ye tried to at all.”

Maisie stared for a minute in utter disbelief. “And has he tried to ken me? To understand me?”

“Ye have nae given him the chance.”

“Ye believe only the best about him because ye love him as a mother loves a son,” Maisie said, stomping past the woman and toward the sloping embankment.

“Much like ye only believe the best of yer brother, I suppose,” Eppie said, striding past Maisie so quickly that she lost her footing going down. Rock slid under her, sending her straight toward the water.

Maisie watched in shock as Eppie slid all the way to the water and fell in, disappearing instantly under the surface. Her heart plunged to her feet. The water wasn’t shallow at all! She’d misread the depth as Eppie obviously had. A moment later, the woman bobbed to the surface, frantically waving her hands as she was already being carried away.

“Help!” Eppie screamed. “I kinnae swim well!”

With little choice, Maisie raced down the remaining embankment to the water and dove in. Cold enveloped her and sucked all the air out of her lungs as the great tug of the water pulled her away from the embankment. She was a strong swimmer, but the current was stronger, and she found herself struggling to keep her own head above water.

She was sucked under the dark surface, then spat back up, only to be slammed into a sharp branch that scraped her legs and gouged her in the side, yet she managed to grip it and stay put. She blinked the water out of her eyes just in time to see Eppie coming at her. The woman must have caught something to hold on to for a moment.

“Take my hand!” Maisie yelled, sticking her right hand out as she gripped the branch with her left.

Within a breath, Eppie’s hand locked with Maisie’s, and the woman practically clawed her way up Maisie’s arm to grab the branch very close to where Maisie was holding on for dear life. And in another, a large tree limb was bobbing through the water toward them at a fearful speed. Maisie shoved herself in front of Eppie. Being the younger and stronger of the two of them, she knew she had the best chance to keep her grip, and if she slipped and lost it, she had the best chance of survival. There was no time to do anything but put out her hand to block it as best she could, but it hit her hand so hard, it ripped her grip away from the other limb immediately and carried her away from Eppie in a flash, sucking her back under the murky, freezing depths.

She was dragged along, taking in mouthfuls of water, breaking the surface to spit it out, only to be sucked under once more. She scraped against rocks and limbs, her back protesting and her lungs burning. She was going to drown. No matter how she tried to right herself to swim toward shore, she was no match for the power of the river. When she was pulled under once more and slammed into a rock, she could not find which way was up, and panic seized her.

Then a hand gripped her arm, and in her terror, she wrapped her legs around the body attached to the hand, only to find herself shoved away by a ruthless strength and gripped by the waist as she was propelled upward. When she broke the surface, she coughed and gulped in greedy breaths of air.

Graeme’s grimly determined face appeared for a breath before her, and then he was behind her, flipping her onto her back. As his arm came around her chest, his body fitted against hers under the surface of the frigid water.

“Kick yer legs!” he commanded, and she immediately did so, turning her head slightly to the left to see that he was swimming to the edge of the embankment. Within five strokes, they were there, and he held her so tightly with his arm that she struggled to take a proper breath. She certainly wasn’t going to protest, though. It was better to be held tight than to be swept away again.

He pulled them to a limb and turned to her, so close she could see the water clinging to his dark lashes. She could also see that with the cold, his scars got lighter. They marked him as a survivor, and she was suddenly filled with renewed embarrassment that she’d flung out such awful words about his appearance in a childish attempt to hurt him.

“Ye are verra handsome,” she said, each word sending a puff of white between them.

He frowned at her. “Did ye get hit in the head?”

Had she? It was hard to remember given how the water had knocked her about. “Mayhap,” she replied as water rushed around them and between them. “But that dunnae change the fact that ye are handsome, and I should nae have said those cruel, untrue words.”

“Verra well, lass. Thank ye. Now, put yer arms around my waist as well as yer legs.”

“What do ye mean to do?” she asked.

“Pull us up to the embankment,” he replied, already moving them closer to the branch he was holding. She did as he said, and he slowly inched them through the water all the way to the embankment. “Hold this branch and dunnae let go. I’m going to climb up, then lie on my belly and pull ye to safety.”

She nodded, but she found she could not make herself release him. Her heart pounded so hard it hurt.

“Ye can unwind from me now,” he said.

She stared at the back of his head with her heart hammering in her ears. “I kinnae,” she whispered.

He glanced over his shoulder, and she could see his left eye. “I will nae leave ye. I vow it.”

“Ye vow it?” she asked. When he nodded, she said, “But ye hate me.”

“I dunnae ken the truth of yer character yet to ken if I’ve reason to hate ye,” he replied.

His surprisingly honest answer made her laugh. “Are ye always so bluntly honest?”

“Aye. I dunnae have reason to be any other way.”

She stored the information away to think upon later. “Ye will risk yerself for someone ye dunnae even want to be with, that ye may yet decide ye have reason to hate.”

He nodded. “I gave a vow when we handfasted to protect ye with my life. I will keep that vow until the day our handfast is broken.”

She swallowed hard and unwound her legs from his waist and her arms from his chest, grasping the branch as she did so. He didn’t hesitate. He raised himself out of the water, and she stared in momentary fascination at the way his muscles bulged in his arms and back with the effort to pull himself up and onto the embankment.

He was on solid ground in a breath and on his belly in the next to reach a hand over the edge of the embankment very near her. “Take my hand, and I’ll pull ye up.”

She took a deep breath, then placed her hand in his much larger one, curling her fingers around his hand tightly. He did the same, his grip almost painful in its strength, but she preferred the moment of pain to falling back into the water.

“Take my other hand now, lass.”

With no choice but to trust him, she released the branch and gripped his other hand.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Aye,” she responded, seeing Eppie and Father Ollie suddenly looming above him, wringing her hands and looking between them.

“Dunnae drop her!” Eppie said sharply.

“Aye!” Father Ollie called out. “Be careful with the wee lass!”

He locked his gaze on Maisie as he started to pull her up, kneeling when he got her high enough to do so. “I’m nae going to drop ye. I vow it.”

The intensity of his voice and gaze reassured her, and she gave him a small smile as her belly brushed the branches of the embankment. “I trust ye in this,” she said, to which he gave a bark of laughter. He pulled her to the top of the embankment and over with such force she careened into him, and the two of them went rocking backward. His arms came around her to secure her to him, and his hand came to her head. She realized he was doing his best to protect her from any more injury.

They lay there for a moment, face-to-face with the full length of their bodies pressed firmly together. He was a stone under her, hard and unrelenting.

“Are ye all right, lass?” Father Ollie asked above them.

Maisie could not seem to make herself answer. She was cold from the water, but a strange heat was spreading within her, and a tingle and tightening had started at her core.

“She appears fine, father,” Eppie answered to which Maisie was utterly grateful. Her thoughts were spinning because of her nearness to Graeme. “Come along, Father Ollie,” Eppie said, and her voice seemed to come from a distance. “We’ll meet them back at the horses.”

Maisie did not protest. She wasn’t sure she could have if she wanted to. She was acutely aware of one thing and that was the very virile man lying beneath her. He’d risked his life to save hers.

The realization filled her with gratitude. “We dunnae have to be enemies,” she blurted, setting her hands against his chest to look at him. She blinked in shock at the thundering of his heart under her fingertips. Was she affecting him? The notion made her want to smile for some odd reason.

He frowned. “How can we be friends? We dunnae trust each other.”

“Mayhap once ye find Bernard or one of the monks and they tell ye my brother did nae ken of yer being there, we will learn to trust each other, and then we can be allies rather than enemies.”

He gave her an incredulous look, rolled her off him, and sat up. “That is nae what I will learn.”

She scrambled to sit up. “Why must ye be so stubborn?”

“Ye are calling me stubborn?” he demanded. “Ye are a blind fool who refuses to see the truth.”

She huffed and jumped to her feet, then pointed down at him. “Ye’re the fool! Ye dunnae trust me, and I saved yer life at the abbey! And I have saved Eppie’s life twice now! What reason do ye have nae to trust me?”

He sat for a long moment studying her. “Currently,” he said, standing and towering over her, “I suppose I dunnae have one, given ye did save my life and Eppie’s. That seems to point to goodness in ye, and if ye kenned that yer brother had kept us captive there and was ready to do away with us, I kinnae think why ye would have saved us.” He paused. “So, I’ve concluded, after much thought, that ye must nae have kenned it.”

She blinked in pleased surprise at his admission. “That’s verra good of ye to recognize that.”

“However,” he said with a scowl, “I imagine even when we have evidence of yer brother’s guilt, ye will be loyal to him; therefore, Maisie, I kinnae trust ye.”

“If my brother were guilty of what ye think, I would nae be blindly loyal.”

Graeme cocked a challenging eyebrow at her. “Nay?”

She shook her head and rubbed at her suddenly cold arms. Gooseflesh peppered her suddenly from head to toe.

“Ye ken the punishment for treason, aye?”

She frowned at him. “Ye ken well that I do.”

“So ye would nae try to stop information of yer brother’s guilt coming to light if the result was going to be his death?”

Her stomach cramped at the thought. She couldn’t fathom life without her brother or that he had done what Graeme believed. “He is innocent, so it does nae matter what I would or would nae do.”

“It matters, Maisie, because he’s nae innocent. And this... this is why I kinnae trust ye. Because even if ye were handed the truth on a silver trencher, ye’d discard it to save yer brother’s life,” he said, then turned and started to walk away from her.

It irritated her immensely that he’d made such an accusation and then dismissed her. “Ye dunnae have any notion what I would or would nae do!” she bellowed at his back. “I bet I could hand ye the truth of my brother’s innocence on a silver trencher, and ye’d ignore it.”

He stopped and swung to face her. “ Ye dunnae ken me at all,” he said. He tapped his index finger to his chest. “I have honor.”

“’Tis nae verra honorable to allow yer handfasted wife to go hungry and sleep without shelter because she’d nae give ye the words ye wished.”

“Ye’re right,” he said, surprising her again. “It was nae. I will see to yer survival needs going forth, and I will treat ye with respect, as long as ye deserve it.”

“Ye imagine I’ll nae deserve yer respect?” she demanded.

“I dunnae ken what to imagine, Maisie. Ye’re a Campbell.”

With that, he swung away as if to dismiss her once more.

She would be the one to stride away from him. Never mind that she had to practically run to get past him with his long strides, and she ignored his chuckle as she left him to watch her back as she dismissed him. The man brought out a temper in her that she’d not even known she had. “Ye make me irritable!” she yelled, tripling her steps to put distance between them.

“I can say the exact same about ye!” he called out from behind her now. She did not respond, but strode along, turning the bend in the trail, and practically barreled into Eppie and Father Ollie.

Embarrassment heated her to think they’d heard them yelling at each other. “Did ye hear—”

“Aye,” Eppie confirmed, cutting her off. “The whole Highlands likely heard, except this one.” Eppie motioned to Father Ollie, who blinked in surprise.

“Eh? What did ye say?”

“Nay anything, Father,” Maisie replied and turned to Eppie. “I dunnae understand Graeme at all! He’s infuriating!”

Eppie waved a hand toward the trail. “Come, let us walk to camp as we talk.” Maisie fell into step with Eppie and Father Ollie. “He infuriates ye,” the woman said, “and ye him, because the two of ye are alike.”

“We are nae!” Maisie gasped, to which Eppie chuckled.

“From what I’ve seen of ye so far, ye are. Ye’re both stubborn, fiercely loyal to those ye love, and braw.”

“Graeme is loyal to his hatred for my brother,” Maisie said, not ready to release her irritation with the man.

Eppie stopped and looked at her. “Graeme does have malice in his heart, and I fear if he kinnae get the proof he needs to condemn yer brother, he may nae ever let the anger go, and then there will nae be room for joy. But ye are mistaken that his only loyalty is to his anger. He could have escaped the abbey years ago if nae for me, but he would nae even consider leaving me behind. He feared if he left and went for aid, they’d kill me afore he could return, so he stayed year after year, biding his time until we could escape together. And he endured hell there.”

“The scars on his face, back, and hands?” Maisie asked.

Eppie nodded. “Atholl had a mission to lash the devil out of him, and Bernard gave him both the scars on his face for escape attempts. Ye witnessed the one.” They started walking again, and as they did, Eppie said, “When we finally did escape, he carried me most the way because I could nae make the journey. His shoes rubbed his feet bloody from my extra weight, and he could barely lift his arms from the days of holding me. He would have laid down his life to give me my freedom. That is the sort of man Graeme is, nae one who simply lives for revenge. Ye dunnae ken him.”

“I dunnae,” she replied, knowing it to be true, “but he does nae ken me, either.”

“He does nae,” Eppie agreed. “I think if the two of ye focused on just each other for a while, ye would mayhap suit.”

Maisie snorted at that. “I dunnae think so. And besides, I am to wed another.”

“Do ye love the Buchannan?”

Maisie opened her mouth to say she did, but then she hesitated. “I think I love him.”

“Och. When ye love a man with yer whole heart, ye ken it with a bone-deep certainty.”

This was fascinating to Maisie. She’d lost her mother when she was only eight summers, so she’d never had conversations like this. “How will I ken it?”

“Ye’ll miss him when ye’re nae with him. Ye’ll think about him all the time. He’ll make yer knees feel weak with simply a look, and a touch... well, his touch will nearly knock ye off yer feet and send desire coursing through ye. And ye would do anything, I mean anything, to be with him.”

Eppie’s words hit Maisie hard. That was the sort of love she wanted, and she feared she didn’t love Aidan, after all. She feared what she’d had for him was still merely that same girlhood tendre. Certainly, his kiss had not sent desire coursing through her... but Graeme’s had. The truth of it was undeniable. She wasn’t a fool. She knew you could desire someone and not be in love with them, but could you love someone, want someone as your husband, if you didn’t desire him? Maybe some women could, but that was not the sort of marriage she wanted. She wanted the passion as well as the love.

What a predicament! She was handfasted to a man she desired but who was trying to destroy her brother, and Graeme certainly did not want to be handfasted to her, either. But they were handfasted for a year and a day. Mayhap she should focus on Graeme as Eppie had suggested and set aside, for the moment, what he was trying to do to her brother. Mayhap then she could come to know the man beyond his burning need for vengeance, and she would find more honorable qualities. He was obviously brave. He’d risked his life to save her, after all. And given the story Eppie had told her, he was loyal and protective, too.

She made up her mind as they walked. She would try to focus on how Graeme treated her, as opposed to his anger toward her brother, but she kept getting stuck on one thing. What if she came to develop feelings for him, yet he wouldn’t give up his quest to prove her brother treasonous? What then? Heartbreak, that’s what, for she could not allow him to destroy her innocent, honorable brother.

As they neared the camp, Maisie realized it had been packed up and the horses were ready and waiting, tethered to a tree. “Father Ollie, did ye pack the camp?” Maisie asked loudly.

“Nay. I tried to, but Graeme would nae let me. He told me to sit and rest up for the journey, and right as he finished packing up, Eppie came running into camp, and told us of yer predicament. I’ve nae ever seen a man run as fast as Graeme did to rescue ye,” Father Ollie said, giving her a pointed look. “Ye ken he kinnae be all bad?” the priest asked gently as Eppie mounted her horse.

“I ken it,” Maisie admitted, catching sight of Graeme coming down the trail toward them. She took a deep breath, determined to give him a chance. But before she could get a word out of her mouth, he said, “Ye’ll ride with Eppie.” And then he scooped up a satchel that still sat on the ground and tossed it to her.

“I dunnae want ye as my handfasted wife, but we are stuck this way for a year and a day unless I prove yer brother treasonous sooner and then we will most certainly part ways.”

She scowled at him, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was practically looking through her as he spoke, the pompous, overbearing man! It had been ludicrous to think she could get to know him and there might be any sort of connection between them.

“And ye were right about what ye said a bit ago that I’d nae acted honorable toward ye, so I’ll do my best to see to yer survival needs only, and I’ll give ye the benefit of the doubt, but if ye give me one reason to think ye are lying to me, I’ll nae be giving ye a second chance. Understand?”

“Aye, ye muleheaded, arrogant barbarian!” Her survival needs! Did he think she wanted him? Maybe she had desired him, but he’d effectively doused that flame just now. “I dunnae wish to be handfasted to ye any more than ye do me, and I will give ye grace, given all ye have been through. But once the truth of my brother’s innocence come to light, there will nae be any more grace for yer ridiculous accusations, and I will expect an apology and an end to yer quest for vengeance! And I expect ye to keep yer hands off me for the rest of our handfasting!”

“Then ye need to lower yer expectations,” he said, before marching over to her and swooping one arm under her legs to lift her off her feet.

“What are ye doing?” she demanded.

“Putting ye on yer horse.”

With that, he practically threw her on top of Eppie’s horse with a smug look, then stalked to his own destrier. Then he turned, caught her gaze, and said, “Call out when ye need to stop, and I will take heed.” Then he was tapping his horse to lead them to his home.

Eppie urged her destrier onward, and Maisie had nothing to do but sit there and glare at Graeme’s back. “I do believe that man is trying to make me hate him.”

“Aye,” Eppie said and oddly chuckled. “I do believe he is.”