Page 26 of Highlander’s Sweet Poison

“I heard the bellows from all the way here,” Clyde said without turning around. “Ye have done something to anger the council.”

“Aye.”

At the quietness of Graeme’s voice, Clyde turned and looked up. “And?”

“Instead of delivering the prisoner, I wed her.”

There was no shock or surprise on Clyde’s face. He just grunted and put down his tools. Leaning against the counter, he crossed his arms and waited.

Glancing out the door to make sure that no one was around to eavesdrop, Graeme walked in and closed the door. “I sent Theo and Gemma on early to offer her sanctuary. They did, and she refused because she feared that it would fracture the alliance. I have no intention of executing a woman of witchcraft with nothing more than hearsay, but I fear nothing that she or I say will make the council see reason. Short of disbanding them, which I intend to do, but just not right now, I would likely be forced to imprison her.”

“So ye wed her instead?”

“Aye, and unless the king himself speaks against her, she will be safe.”

“And why the change of heart, when several months ago, ye were at the forefront of the accusers?”

Graeme swallowed hard as the horrifying image rose to the surface of his mind. “She nearly died. Seeing her on the bed of the forest, broken, violated, and helpless against her attackers, I realized that she was no witch. She was just a woman whose life had been shattered by those who were supposed to be loyal. The thing is, I fear ‘tis not just us. She has scars on her back, lash marks from before she wed Fulton.”

Clyde cocked his head and drew his brows together. “I dinnae remember Fulton saying anything about her being scarred. Perhaps he didnae notice?”

“No, he would have seen them.”

“Did she say where they came from?”

“Nay. I get the feeling that she didnae wish to speak of it.” Graeme hesitated. “Jillian would like to see ye. She says that ye were kind to her after Fulton passed. I believe she is grateful for that.”

“No reason for that. ‘Twas easy enough to see that she was no witch. There was horror inside her when her husband died. Guilt as well, but she grieved him as best she could.”

Startled, Graeme realized that he and Clyde never really talked about Jillian before. Oh, sure, Graeme would rant and rave about her, but he’d never asked Clyde’s opinion, and the man had never offered it. “Ye always thought her innocent.”

“‘Tis not my story to tell, but I suspect there was more to their marriage than Fulton would have us believe. In time, perhaps yer wife will trust ye enough to tell ye.”

Graeme snorted. “I dinnae think there will ever be trust. There is lust and nothing more. My only hope is that we can tolerate each other. ‘Twas not the future that I had hoped for with a wife, but at least ye dinnae have to worry that I will fall in love with my cousin’s widow.”

“My friend, I didnae ask that.”

Jillian was still awake when the door opened, and she whirled around. To her surprise, it was Graeme who stepped into the moonlight. The room was too small to belong to him, and she thought it too small to be a lady's chamber adjacent to his, but she hadn’t said anything when the guards had deposited her there without a word.

Her stomach rumbled, and she was relieved to see that he’d brought some food and wine.

There was a stormy look on his face. “Ye were supposed to be taken to my chambers. I would move ye now, but I know ye are hungry and tired. Will this do for now?”

Touched by his anger, she smiled and nodded, hoping to mollify him. The guards had put her in a guestchamber as if to let her know that she was a temporary fixture there.

That certainly wouldn’t bode well for her.

“‘Tis still larger than my whole cottage, and it has no bars,” she joked weakly, but he only scowled deeper as he set the food on the table. Getting up, she quickly joined him. “The council is angry with ye.”

“Aye, but I expected no less,” he said with a shrug. “There is nothing they can do now but petition the king, and no one in their right mind would go to him with such flimsy evidence. Ye are safe with me.”

Safe from persecution, but what if someone decided to take justice into their own hands? “Thank ye for the food.”

“Since ye were sleeping, we didnae stop to eat this evening. I am sorry that ‘tis cold, but I snagged what I could from the kitchens. The cook is ornery, even with me.” He offered her a biscuit, and she took it happily as she brought her attention back to her cold stew.

“‘Tis all right. I was surprised that I slept on the journey.”

“Ye didnae get much sleep last night.”