Highlander Most Wanted (The Montgomerys and Armstrongs #2)

Highlander Most Wanted (The Montgomerys and Armstrongs #2) Page 38

“I assure you that everything within the message I had delivered to you is true,” Bowen said soberly. “Ian McHugh attacked Genevieve’s escort on its way to her betrothed and slaughtered everyone save Genevieve. He was obsessed with her and kept her imprisoned at his keep until the Montgomerys and Armstrongs attacked and killed him.”

The woman beside Laird McInnis gasped and put her hand to her mouth in horror.

“And you?” the laird asked, looking sharply at Bowen. “What role do you play in all of this?”

“I saw a woman sorely abused,” Bowen said quietly. “I bore her back to Montgomery Keep, where I could be assured of her well-being and care, and I sent word to you so that you would know that she lives.”

“Lachlan, ’tis enough talk,” the woman said sharply. “I would see my daughter at once. It’s been a year since I last held her, and I’ve spent the past year in hell thinking her dead. Surely you can converse with the Montgomerys once we’ve seen for ourselves the welfare of our daughter.”

Lachlan sighed. “You are right. I am anxious to see her as well.”

He glanced up at Graeme. “With your permission, Laird, I would enter your keep so that I may be reunited with my daughter. We’ve traveled hard these past days. We left the moment we received word that she was alive.”

Graeme inclined his head. “Of course. I would extend an invitation to you and your lady wife for rest and refreshment.”

Lady McInnis climbed from the litter, and Lachlan extended his arm to assist her. One of his men aided her and she was boosted into the saddle with the laird.

Graeme and Bowen turned and led the way through the gate into the courtyard, Laird McInnis and his wife close on their heels.

Graeme and Bowen dismounted, and Bowen went to assist Lady McInnis down from the horse. Laird McInnis’s feet hit the ground, and the air practically vibrated with expectancy.

Bowen was about to send word to Genevieve that her parents had arrived when he looked up and saw her standing in the doorway to the keep.

Her face was deathly pale, and her eyes large in her face. The scar was even more pronounced against such paleness, and it made her look even more fragile.

“Mama? Papa?” she whispered.

Lady McInnis and the laird whipped around at the sound of her voice. Lady McInnis went as white as Genevieve, and to Bowen’s surprise, a look of anguish filled the laird’s face and tears gathered in his eyes.

“Genevieve!” Lady McInnis exclaimed.

And then they were both running, Genevieve and her mother. They met at the bottom of the steps, and Lady McInnis enfolded Genevieve in her arms, holding her as if she’d never let go.

The laird joined them, folding them both in his beefy embrace. He held them so tightly that Bowen wondered if either could breathe. There was such joy that it permeated the air around them. No one could look upon them and not be deeply moved by the emotional reunion.

“You did a good thing, Bowen,” Graeme murmured.

Bowen sucked in his breath and then turned his stare on his brother. “If I did such a good thing, why does it feel as though my heart has been torn from my chest?”

Graeme grimaced and put his hand on Bowen’s shoulder, squeezing in silent sympathy.

Genevieve stood surrounded by her mother and father, her heart nearly bursting as they hugged and kissed her. Her mother openly wept, and the big gruff laird, her father, looked as though he battled his own tears.

She clung to her mother, soaking up the warmth that only a mother’s embrace could provide. How long had she grieved for her mother? She thought never to see her again, or to see her smile. Or to simply enjoy the love and affection that flowed so freely within her clan.

“Oh Genevieve,” her mother whispered brokenly. “My heart has been restored.”

“Come here and give your papa a hug,” her father said in a gruff voice thick with emotion.

She went into her father’s embrace and he picked her up, just as he used to do when she was a child, and spun her around.

“My daughter is returned to us!” he shouted.

Just outside the walls, a roar went up from the assembled army and echoed across the hillside. It went on and on until Genevieve laughed as he spun her around again.

“My baby,” her mother said, pulling her once more into her embrace when her father set her down.

Her father turned to where Bowen and Graeme stood, while her mother held her tightly, as if afraid Genevieve would disappear if she let go.

“I owe you a debt of gratitude,” he said gruffly. “ ’Tis one I can never hope to repay.”

“Make her happy,” Bowen said simply. “ ’Tis all the debt you’ll ever have to repay.”

“Come,” Graeme said. “You’ve journeyed long and you must be tired and hungry. A feast will be prepared this night to celebrate the return of Genevieve to your clan.”

Genevieve’s mother stroked her hair and tenderly patted her scarred cheek.

“ ’Tis the most joyous moment of my life next to the day you were born. I’ll long hold this day in my memory. The day my only child was returned to me.”

Genevieve hugged her, burying her face in her mother’s neck as she’d done so many times over the years. Her scent was the same, soothing and so much like home.

“I love you, Mama.”

“And I love you, dearling. So very much.”

Chapter 44

Genevieve hastened from the keep as the earth was bathed in the light of a new sun. She’d not slept the night before. Too much excitement. Her mother had slept in her chamber, not willing to be parted from her for even a moment. And today they would make the journey back home to McInnis land.

They’d feasted the night before, and Genevieve hadn’t had one moment in which to speak to Bowen alone. She could not leave without seeing him one last time.

She’d searched his chamber, but found it barren. Nor was he within the keep.

She found him standing on the hillside, staring over the vast expanse of Montgomery land. She slowed her steps as she neared him, suddenly hesitant.

He heard her approach and turned, his eyes flickering as his gaze found her. Wordlessly, she flew into his arms, holding him tightly as they embraced.

“I would not go without saying farewell to you,” she said.

“I’ll be there when you ride out,” Bowen assured.

Still, she hesitated. “I said terrible things to you, Bowen. I was angry and afraid. Mostly afraid. I was so fearful of facing my family after all that has happened. It was foolish of me to ever think they’d turn their back on me. I want to thank you for sending word to my father. ’Tis not something I would have had the courage to do, and that shames me.”

He put his finger to her lips. “Shhh, lass. There is no reason to be sorry. What you endured is unthinkable. ’Tis understandable that you had fears.”

“I’ll never forget you, Bowen Montgomery,” she said, her voice nearly breaking as she tried to say all that was in her heart. “I did not think a man such as you existed.”

He smiled and lowered his mouth to hers. “And ’tis the truth I did not dream that a lass such as you existed. I do not want to let you go, but ’tis my selfish desires that fuel my reluctance. Your family has been deprived of you in a most horrible way. I cannot imagine the grief they’ve endured all this time.”

She kissed him back, a kiss filled with heartbreak and desperation. She was torn between the impossible. A reunion with the family she loved above all else, and a man who had rescued her from the very depths of despair. A man who had looked beyond the scars on her face and soul to the very heart of her.

“Be happy, Genevieve,” he whispered against her lips. “ ’Tis all I ask. I can live and die a content man as long as I know you are happy and well cared for.”

She clung tightly to him, his arms wrapped around her as the sun rose higher in the sky. There was naught to say. Their hearts were heavy with the knowledge of what could not be—and of what was.

Finally, Bowen gently pulled her away and stroked a hand over her face. “ ’Tis time for you to go. Your father and mother will be looking for you.”

He went blurry in her vision as her eyes swam with tears. “I love you, Bowen. I would not leave without telling you so. I will never love another. You will always hold a place in my heart and I’ll think of you often, in my dreams and in the waking.”

He palmed her face and kissed her fiercely, his lips moving with heated desperation over hers.

“And I love you, Genevieve. For all my days will I love only you.”

No longer able to bear the look in his eyes, she turned and ran back toward the keep, leaving him on the hillside, a lone figure outlined by the rising sun.

Bowen watched as Rorie and Eveline noisily said farewell to Genevieve. They wept and clung to her as though they’d known her forever.

Graeme hovered close to Bowen, his expression worried and grim. ’Twas obvious he wanted to offer sympathy but had no idea what to say to his brother.

It was just as well, because Bowen had no desire to open the wound further. He offered his farewell to Laird and Lady McInnis and assisted Lady McInnis into the litter that would bear her and Genevieve back to McInnis Keep.

When it came time for Genevieve to take her leave, he stood stiffly to the side as she gave her farewell to Graeme. Then he offered her his hand to assist her into the litter.

She slid her fingers over his and lifted her gaze to his. They stared at each other for a long moment, their hearts in their eyes. Then she whispered her thanks and a farewell and climbed up beside her mother.

“Be well,” Bowen said as he took a step back.

“And you,” Genevieve murmured softly.

He took another step back. And then another. He had to put distance between them, else he’d haul her from the litter and never let her go.

Laird McInnis gave the order to move out, and the procession of horses began the journey from Montgomery Keep.

Bowen stood watching until the last of the horses disappeared in the distance. His heart was heavy, and a part of him died as Genevieve McInnis rode out of his life and back to her own.

“Be happy, my love,” he whispered. “Be happy.”

Chapter 45

“ ’Tis so good to have you home, Genevieve,” Sybil exclaimed as she bounced onto Genevieve’s bed.

Genevieve smiled. “ ’Tis all you’ve said these past weeks.”

“It can never be said enough. I missed you so.”

A look of sadness crossed her friend’s face, and Genevieve reached to squeeze her hand.

So much had changed in the time Genevieve had been gone. Sybil had married and remained on McInnis land with her new husband, who acted as Laird McInnis’s second-in-command.

Grief had altered her mother and father. They both looked older than Genevieve remembered. There were new lines on her father’s beloved face, and wrinkles around her mother’s eyes.

Not a day went by that her parents didn’t cosset her endlessly. They worried over her comfort, her happiness, whether she was plagued by unpleasant dreams or memories of her time with Ian McHugh.

Genevieve didn’t discuss the matter much, and her parents respected her wishes, not prying when she didn’t volunteer information.

There was no point in their knowing all Ian had subjected her to. It would only make them grieve more, and there was naught to be done about it now. It was all in the past, and she was determined to leave it there. It was a part of her life best forgotten.

The only good that had come out of all of it was … Bowen.

She lay awake at night, aching for him. It carried over into her days. She wasn’t herself. She was tired and lethargic, and she tried her best to exhibit enthusiasm, because she didn’t want to worry her parents.

“Do you like being married?” Genevieve asked, knowing this would turn the conversation to Sybil’s husband.

As expected, Sybil’s face lit up and she fairly glowed. It filled Genevieve with jealousy and longing.

“I love him so,” Sybil said wistfully. “He’s strong and honorable. The perfect warrior. And he spoils me shamelessly.”

Genevieve laughed. “ ’Tis a good thing, that.”

Sybil grinned. “Aye, it is.”

A knock sounded at Genevieve’s chamber door, and Sybil bounded up to answer. Genevieve’s father stuck his head inside, his gaze seeking Genevieve.

“I thought you might want to go out hunting with me. Your mother has a taste for rabbit stew, and we make a good pair. Let’s see if your archery skills are still up to par.”

Genevieve smiled, warmed by the fact that he sought her out to spend time with her. Both her mother and her father had kept her close ever since their return. She couldn’t walk for bumping into one of them.

“Aye, I’d like that. Give me but a moment to change into something suitable for hunting.”

Pleasure lit her father’s eyes and he smiled back. “I’ll wait in the courtyard. I’ll ready your mount while you dress.”