Page 21 of Highlander’s Burning Touch

He would find her. He would race to the ends of the earth if he had to. And after the tournament was over, he would surprise her with a visit!

Spurred on, Niven addressed his men with a ready smile.

“So, come on, men, Uncle will nae be happy if we dinnae get there soon… an’ win him a bride – nae that he’s needed any help afore in that direction!”

Chapter Six

“Yer lucky I don’t throw ye in the dungeons, like one of the English curs we caught…!” fumed the laird of MacLean.

Her father paced up and down across the length of the great hall in the MacLean keep. Keeping her eyes firmly down, Deva held her breath and hoped fervently for him to stop. She knew her father’s rages all too well. He wouldn’t even begin to be reasonable until the pacing stopped.

The holes in the carpet commemorated each and every outburst in the last fifteen years. Deva’s eyes darted to the portrait of her mother over the fireplace. Fifteen years since she had died, leaving both father and daughter bereft.

She was the only one who could placate him. Nothing else even came close. Especially not the firewater he was slugging back. It seemed hard to remember a time before the drinking and the dark rages had taken hold. But there had been one.

Which all just made it worse.

Without warning, her father’s eyes were in her face, watching her like prey.

“So then, cat got yer tongue? Where have ye been then?”

Deva gulped. She had had time to think about this, yet still, her mind went blank. From behind her, Allyth glanced up.

“Sir,” Allyth murmured, “Lady Catherine was most grateful for the assistance that the mistress gave her…”

Deva’s heart thumped hard as her father turned to scrutinize Allyth.

“But she wasnae with Lady Catherine!” thundered her father, his deep brown eyes turned almost black with rage, “She came alone!”

“Nae, aye,” stuttered poor Allyth. She desperately tried to put herself right. “She was with her but remained on in their castle for a short while, at the request of a sick bairn…”

Allyth’s eyes connected with Deva’s swiftly.

“Her poor wee lad had hurt himself. He was so upset that Lady Catherine didnae want to leave him. So, I said I would stay with him until he had calmed… She didnae want to miss the tournament…” Deva said, desperately, trying to remember the story they had come up with.

But inside, Deva’s mind was racing. Instead of Lady Catherine’s phantom son, she was thinking about Niven.

Where might he be now, she wondered. Despite their week together, she wasn’t much wiser about his business. In fact, he hadn’t even said where he was going in such a hurry.

“Really?” her father asked, his face pressed up to hers and analyzing it thoroughly.

“A-aye,” said Deva.

“Well, what happened?” asked her father, unexpectedly. He stepped back a little but still had her fixed with his dark stare.

“Happened?” Deva said, caught off-guard.

“Aye, the accident, to the lad?”

Trying not to meet his eyes, Deva’s thoughts span fast. “He, um, fell on something sharp an’ it got a wee bit infected…” she said, “But I stayed an’ cleaned it up…”

“Hm,” said the laird. He hadn’t yet ceased in his pacing, but he had at least slowed down.

“The point is, ye should have been here, helping prepare for the tournament! Have ye forgotten how important it is!” her father vented. Then he glared at them both.

“Nae, father,” said Deva, staring at her feet. But inside, she hid a smile. It had worked. She was still breathing.

But the laird was not about to leave things at that.