Scoundrel’s Redemption (Highlander’s Pact #3)

Chapter Sixteen

W hen a twig snapped just ahead, and Teagan went still, Greer froze along with the rest of them. Teagan shook his head once, the signal to stay put, and crept forward with his dirk at the ready. The cool night smelled of sweet wildflowers and springtime growth, at odds with the cloying darkness and metallic taste of danger.

“How very exciting!” Margery would whisper. “And granted, a bit frightening.” Then she would soothe Greer. “I’m sure Teagan will be just fine, though. He’s a seasoned warrior, after all, who, might I add, is in remarkably good shape.”

“Now is not the time to admire his physique,” she would reply. “For shame!”

“Quite right,” Margery would agree. “Though one could argue I’m attempting to put your mind at ease. That no warrior of your uncle’s could take down such a magnificent—”

Margery’s voice halted when Teagan stopped creeping and sprinted forward. Seconds later, she heard a faint grunt. Her heart leapt into her throat. Was that him? Was he hurt? She was about to go after him, but he reappeared and urged them to follow him once more.

“I think his blade drips with blood,” Margery would whisper.

“I think you have a vivid imagination,” she replied but wondered at the moisture she swore glistened on the metal. Had he slit a man’s throat? Driven him through?

A heartbeat later, Teagan went still again, then whipped his dagger to the left. A strangled sound rang out before a thump resounded nearby.

“Time to move faster,” he whispered, moving as quickly as she knew he dared with them following. Her palms grew sweaty. Would one of Randolph’s men leap out of nowhere at them? Call for others? If they did, what then?

But she knew. She’d been dreading it all day. Not for herself, but for the others.

If they were caught, not only would it mean severe punishment and inevitable separation for Ada and her children, but Teagan’s death. Randolph and Bartholomew would hide it from Edmund, but they would see the Scotsman dead. She knew it without question.

So every step that led them away couldn’t come soon enough.

Fast enough.

She wanted them free of this place so that Ada and her children might have a life together. So that she and Teagan might have the same. Though startled at her thoughts, considering so little time had passed since she met him, she truly felt that way. Not only did she feel a blooming friendship with him, but something more.

Something she desperately wanted time to explore.

“You mean love?” Margery would hedge. “That is what we are talking about, yes?”

“Well, I would not go that far,” she’d reply. “What do I know of love?”

“Little,” Margery would say. “Where you should know far more.”

“But we only just met.”

“So?”

“So, love takes time.”

“How do you know when you know nothing of love?” A silly grin might hover on Margery’s face. “I believe love can happen straight away just as easily as it can grow over time.”

“Yes,” she would reply. “But then you believe in love, to begin with.”

“Bloody hell,” Teagan cursed under his breath, yanking her from her thoughts seconds before he spun off to the right and engaged a man. A breath later, another warrior came out of nowhere from their left.

Understanding her role until her fighting skills improved, Greer pulled the children close and held her dagger at the ready whilst Ada and her mother dealt with the newcomer.

“’Tis all right,” she assured the children, fearing for the others, wishing she could help more. “All will be well.”

“You will learn to fight better once you are free of your uncle,” Margery assured. “Until then, protecting the little ones is every bit as important.”

Greer knew she was right, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Teagan side-kicked his opponent to the ground, clamped his hand over his mouth to keep him quiet, then ran a blade across his throat. Meanwhile, Ada kneed the other man in his groin, only for Teagan to close the distance and kill him just as silently as the other.

“Come, now,” he said without pause, moving along even faster this time.

Greer’s heart beat so hard, she feared that alone might draw attention. Was it too late? Had one of Randolph’s men heard his comrade fall? Was he rallying more to arms? Fortunately, despite her burgeoning fears, no cries of alarm rang out, and every step took them farther and farther away until Teagan finally slowed then stopped.

“We are far enough out now that we shouldnae have any more trouble from yer uncle’s men at the moment,” he whispered. “But, all must remain silent until I say so in case we come upon anyone else out here.” He looked from person to person. “Ye ken, aye?”

Everybody nodded, and they were off again.

Though relieved to be beyond her uncle’s clutches, she knew Teagan killing those men was unfortunate in more ways than one. Not only would they be discovered, ensuring Teagan’s and perhaps even Ada’s death, but Greer and Cecille would suffer somehow, too. Had he left them alive, however, they might have roused too quickly and called everyone to arms before they could get away.

The only upside? The spot they were meeting Edmund was relatively unknown in these parts, especially by nobles. The caves they headed for were better known by the poor who, it just so happened, were very good at keeping secrets. But then, according to Edmund, who had informative contacts all over the place, many a fleeing peasant had sought refuge in the well-hidden hideaway over the years.

A spot, as it turned out, they made it to safely without coming across anyone else.

“This is well secluded,” her mother mentioned as they made their way down a hidden pathway into a cavernous area beneath a woodland hill. It was so well disguised, all one saw when looking at it was a thick copse of bushes at the base of rocks.

“Aye, ’tis a good place to hide.” Because Teagan had an armful of wood he’d gathered, Ada lit a torch they found at the entrance. He gestured deeper into the cave. “There should be a spot to rest just around the bend. According to Edmund, fire cannae be seen from there.”

As it happened, there was a small fire pit around the corner and space to rest. Teagan lit a fire, and Greer handed out dried meat, rye bread, and skins of water. Ada and Cecille saw to making the children comfortable beneath thin blankets.

“Might ye spin us some magic, Mistress Greer?” Besse asked on a yawn.

“Of course.” She sat on a rock across from them, proud of how well they had done today. “Is there a particular tale you would like to hear?”

“Mayhap, the rest of the one ye started a few weeks ago?”

“Aye,” Duncan agreed, glancing from Teagan to Greer. “What happened once yer warrior-hero rode off into the sunset with us?”

“Ye mean the dark of night,” Besse corrected.

“Yes, the dark of night,” Greer agreed, doing her best to appear whimsical. But then it wasn’t that hard once her imagination took over. “Well, after they escaped the dismal fortress with many an exciting battle along the way, they settled into a fairy’s nest for the eve.”

Besse’s eyes widened. “A fairy’s nest?”

“Is that so safe?” Duncan frowned. “Fairies dinnae know how to wield a blade and protect others.”

Besse pouted. “How do ye know?”

“Perhaps they cannot wield a blade,” Greer gave the sparks coming off the newborn fire a knowing look, “but they can most certainly control fairy fire.”

Duncan cocked his head. “Fairy fire?”

“Oh, yes .” Greer gestured at the sparks, sure to sound mysterious. “Though we mere mortals only see them dancing around flames in all their dangerous glory, never to be touched, fairy fire is wherever fairies go. It protects all the good souls who enter their realm.”

“Are we good souls?” Besse whispered in awe. Her wide eyes drifted after the sparks.

“The very best,” Greer assured. “In fact, children are the most protected of all.”

She went on to explain why and continued her story, but Besse and Duncan didn’t last long. Soon enough, they were sound asleep. Ada settled beside them, mouthed thank ye to Greer, then rested her cheek on Duncan’s head, and closed her eyes.

“I’m going to sit by the entrance and keep watch,” Teagan said softly.

So soon? She had hoped he might stay a while. Sleep closer.

She must have had a disappointed look on her face because her mother gestured after Teagan once he left. “Why not go sit with him, daughter?” She leaned her head back against the rock and pulled a blanket more securely around her. “I could use the quiet, and I think you could use the conversation.”

“Are you sure?” She looked at her mother with concern. “I could sit beside you and keep you warm.”

“Oh, I’m plenty warm, darling.” She looked from the direction Teagan went to Greer, blunt to a fault. “Besides, is there not another you would like to keep warm?”

“Mother,” she chastised, blushing.

“Well, ’tis true, yes?” Mother replied, sentimental if she were not mistaken. “And ’tis how it should be, Greer. How you should have felt about a man long before now.”

“It matters naught at this point,” she murmured, considering her mother, glad for the past few weeks together. For the chance to get closer again. “Might I ask you a question?”

“Of course. Anything.”

“Were you and Father friends?” She tilted her head, curious. Desperate to know, actually. “And love…you felt it with him, yes? If so, how did you…know?”

“Your father was my closest friend, my dear,” her mother said, surprising her. “And yes, we loved one another very much. How did I know, though?” She thought about that. “I suppose there was no singular moment of discovery but a culmination of many. How he treated me, looked at me, made me feel. The respect he afforded me when most men did not.” She narrowed her eyes. “I think more than anything, it was how he encouraged me to be myself.”

“Strong, then,” Greer surmised. “Outspoken against your brother.”

“You mean my father,” Mother corrected. “My father made him that way.” She seemed reflective. “But yes, your father,” she seemed to struggle with actually voicing his name, “Phillip knew how difficult it was for me watching my mother cower, so he encouraged me to be different. To see myself as an equal despite my oppressive upbringing.”

“You were very lucky to have found him,” she replied softly. “’Tis a rare man that encourages such from a woman.”

“Not, as you well know now, as rare as one would think.” Her gaze again flickered from the direction Teagan went to Greer. “Go be with him, daughter. Go and find your way back to yourself like I once did.”

She nodded and was about to head that way when her mother spoke again.

“Just one more thing, darling,” she said softly. Her expression grew serious. “Something you must keep in mind.”

“What?” she asked.

“There’s no time limit on love,” her mother said, echoing what Margery would have voiced. “You might not feel it for weeks, months, or even years to come.” Wisdom lit her eyes. “Or you might already feel its stirrings without realizing it. For love is that swift sometimes.”

Though not as hard to imagine as it once was, she still wasn’t sure what she believed. If such was possible. So she nodded politely and finally searched out Teagan, only to find him waiting with a blanket. Moonlight trickled down through the foliage overhead, and white fog curled over the dark forest floor.

She smiled and sat beside him. “You knew I would join you?”

He put the blanket over her. “I had hoped.”

“What about you?” She frowned when he didn’t wrap up in the blanket, too. “Are you not chilled?”

“Nay.” He shook his head. “I’m used to colder weather than this, with less protection.”

“Right, because of your years at war,” she murmured, glad to be close to him. Resting against him. Breathing in his spicy scent. He’d told her about his time fighting for France, then alongside Scotland’s King David II.

“Aye, the war.” As tended to happen when he spoke of that time, he sounded adrift. “I dinnae think I’ve shared so much about it with anyone.”

She knew. She could hear it in his voice. “I’m glad you have with me, then. But if it ever becomes too much, you do not have to.”

“Nay,” he agreed. “I dinnae have to but find myself wanting to.” Pain lit his eyes when he looked at her. “I dinnae know why, only that I do.”

Where some women, most in her circles, would find such talk offensive, she did not. If anything, it helped her in some small undefinable way. Perhaps not to face the past, because that felt impossible, but to navigate her way through darker times with someone who understood. Who had seen terrible things and hated every minute of it. A warrior who loathed the evil at the heart of warfare when she thought no such man existed.

Yet for all he shared, she knew he only told but a fraction of it.

War haunted him every bit as much as it did her. He suppressed great pain and grief. Inner demons. They didn’t frighten her, though. Rather, they felt kindred. Something he might turn on others during his darkest hour, but never her.

“Well, I’m glad you share with me,” she reiterated. “That you speak as freely as you hope I will.”

“Aye.” His gaze lingered on her face. “As am I, lass. ’Tis…much welcomed.”

“Yes,” she whispered, suddenly unable to find her voice. Suddenly so aware of him, she could barely breathe. Barely think. “Because I’m here…to listen, that is.”

“I know.”

When his gaze dropped to her lips, she thought he might kiss her again. Prayed for it, actually. Wanted it so much all of a sudden that when he shook his head and muttered something about staying watchful of his surroundings, she took matters into her own hands.

She wasn’t sure why she did it, how she could be so bold, but when Teagan went to turn his face away, she cupped his cheek and kissed him. Though the storyteller in her would say she simply wanted her hero’s first kiss on her grand adventure, she knew better.

She wanted the kiss of the broken man he really was underneath.

Though she suspected the two were the same, she wanted the real man, not the made-up hero. The man as flawed and wounded as her .

He didn’t pull away from the kiss, but he didn’t exactly embrace it either.

Was she being too forward? Bold and brazen? Did he not want this?

Moments later, she got her answer.