Highland Devil (Murray Family #22)

Mora frowned. “The day my parents went to market and were killed on their way home. Robbed of the money they had as weel. Ye dinnae really think they would try to kill their own father, do ye?” She shook her head. “Nay, if naught else, Murdoch, the youngest, wouldnae have had any part of that. Although the murder they claim I did was done with Robert’s sword, the item I am accused of stealing along with my own da’s money.”

“And your father was their uncle. Aye?” When she nodded he smiled faintly. “Nay a big leap from uncle to father.” She was growing a bit pale, so he decided to leave that subject. “I will take ye to Dubheidland.”

“I cannae take ye out of your way,” she said as she fought to banish all thought of her cousins from her mind.

“’Tis nay really out of my way. I was actually thinking of stopping in there to beg a good meal and a proper bed for a night or two.”

It was madness to go off with a man she did not know, Mora thought, but she was already caught fast in a kind of madness. What her cousins were doing had to be madness. Murdoch could not know the extent of his brother’s crimes. She felt certain of it. He had not known they were responsible for her parents’ death; she was sure of that. His expression as his brother taunted her with what they had done was one of horrified astonishment. He had definitely aided in hers and Andrew’s escapes. And, she feared, it would eventually lead to his own death.

“Come, eat something,” he coaxed as he held out a plate of rabbit and bread. “Then we can get some sleep and be on our way at the break of day.”

Taking the plate, she nodded. She was not feeling particularly hungry, despite her stomach’s interest in the rabbit earlier, but she knew she needed to eat. Strength was needed for what lay ahead. Staring down at her plate, she picked up a chunk of rabbit and nibbled on it, watching with calm amusement as Freya’s small paw reached out and caught up a small chunk of meat. The faint smile that crossed Sir Gybbon’s face did a lot to ease her mind about going off with him.

“It is always hard to discover one’s kin are nay to be trusted,” he consoled.

“Or just plain greedy and evil with the blood of one’s own parents dripping from their hands?”

“Nay sure I would put it that way,” he murmured, then glanced at her. “Ye did say one of the brothers didnae seem to be part of it all.”

“Murdoch, aye. He is only eighteen and he really looked horrified, and then he tried to stop them from killing my goats. May be why some of them fled successfully. Then he said nothing when I helped my young brother escape out the window to run to Aunt Maggie. He also told me to run after Robert hit me and his other two brothers were trying to help Robert stop bleeding.”

“Does sound innocent. Why was this Robert bleeding?”

“He grabbed me when I tried to get by him and I cried out. Freya leapt onto his face and slashed him. He threw her toward the fire, but she is an agile little girl”—she scratched her cat’s ears—“and twisted while still in the air so she fell to the floor off to the side. I ran over and got her, and it was Murdoch who signaled me to run, to get out. So, I did, though Robert tried to stab me as I passed by him. And I have continued to run. I was surprised that they did not come by me while I was on the road. I then thought that they might have taken Robert to someone to tend to his wounds or even told the sheriff of the crimes they want to charge me with and got some of his men to help them.”

Gybbon stared at the small cat, who was primly taking another piece of meat. “She really doesnae look so fierce.”

“She always goes for the face.” Mora smiled when he winced. “She is actually afraid of a lot of things. Think it is because she is so small. Even a hawk eyes her as a meal. Fortunately, it also eyes a small female with a broom as a threat. So, ye think Sigimor Cameron might help?”

“Aye, unless his own family is facing some threat. To Sigimor that would be the trouble he needed to deal with.”

Mora nodded. “Of course it would be. Completely understandable.”

“And your mother was right to not stay and mother everyone. She wouldnae have agreed with all the ways he did it. I am fair certain of it. A rough mon is Sigimor, but his brothers all turned out well and most of them are still at home.”

“It is a shame she didnae live to see that. Every now and then she fretted over her decision. So Dubheidland is still a place filled with big men with red hair?”

“Aye. Often a lot of MacFingals, too, although that has lessened some as they get older and, I suspect, Sigimor doesnae appreciate any of them flirting with his wife.”

Mora laughed. “Who are these MacFingals?”

As she finished her food she was thoroughly entertained by Sir Gybbon’s talk of the MacFingals. Although the old laird was a scandal, she had to admire him for the care he took of all his children, legitimate or not. Few men would bother.

She was just setting her plate down when Freya stared at the road and then hopped into her bag. “I need to hide,” said Mora as she grabbed her bag and tugged her hood up over her hair.

“Why?”

“Someone is coming down the road.” She pointed to the woods just beyond the horse, and added, “I will only be hiding over there.”

Gybbon watched her head into the woods and wondered if she meant to flee. Even as he thought he should make sure she did not, he heard the hoofbeats of a couple of horses coming. A man and a woman rode by, quietly talking to each other and taking no notice of him. As soon as they passed by, he stood up and walked to the edge of the woods. He stared into the shadowed area but caught no glimpse of Mora.

“Mora?”

Suddenly her head popped up and he was briefly startled. Her hood had completely covered her hair. It appeared she had a true skill at hiding and he idly wondered why.

“It was just a couple riding by. Naught to worry about.”

Mora climbed out of her hiding place. She wondered why she had not taken the chance to run. The man had said he knew Sigimor and knew how to get to Dubheidland, but she had no way to test the truth of that until she reached the gates and he was recognized by the Camerons. Then she shrugged and brushed the debris from her cloak. He was the best hope she had of getting where she needed to go before her cousins got to her, and he had a horse.

“I will come along in just a moment or two.”

Gybbon started to ask why the wait and then clamped his mouth shut. Women needed a moment of privacy just like men. He walked back to the fire and began to clear up what small mess he had there. Just as he began to put some sand over the embers of the fire, she walked back into the campsite, that strange tiny cat at her side.

Mora stepped up to the fire and watched the man as he made certain it was fully out, no heat evident. He was a very handsome fellow, she mused. His hair was a gleaming black and a bit long, hanging a few inches past his shoulders. There were slender braids at the front and she recalled her father talking of warrior’s braids when he would tell her stories about old battles, although she had gotten the feeling that was from a long time ago. It suited Gybbon, however. From the slightly elegant lines of his face, she would judge him well born.

When he stood up and looked at her, she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from making any sound. His eyes were a beautiful clear green yet there appeared to be some blue in there as well. She wondered how she had missed that.

He walked off into the trees and she released a small sigh of relief. Now she had time to settle herself, calm the odd reaction she had to his looks. She had to admit she had never seen such a fine-looking man or had such a reaction to any man. Mora hoped that was not going to make the trip they would soon take together awkward. She would be humiliated if he caught her staring at him all cow-eyed.

When he returned he spread out a blanket for her, then spread another across the fire pit. “Sleep, lass.”

“Is it safe to sleep out here?”

“Aye. Anything too mean and dangerous and Jester will alert us. I begin to think so would your cat. Would it help if I relit a fire?”

“Nay. I will be fine. An unwatched fire would make me nervous.”