Page 6 of Highlander’s Sweet Poison

Not here. Not when she’d finally found a new home. Would tonight be the night that she lost everything, once again? First news of Graeme’s arrival to haul her back to MacSeaver lands and now the label she had so desperately tried to escape.

“I am no witch,” she said as she looked over her shoulder. “But I will still try and heal yer son.”

When she arrived home, it didn’t surprise her to see a candle shining through her window. The door was open, and Theo was anxiously looking out. “Laird MacDougal,” Jillian greeted. “Welcome to my home.”

“Jillian!” With a shriek, Gemma pushed past her husband and raced toward her. At the sight of her round belly, Jillian and Theo winced, although Jillian did not believe that healthy pregnant women should be put on bed rest. Because of her size, the hug was awkward. “Theo, say the words. Say them right now!”

With a sigh, Theo walked toward them. “Jillian, as Laird of the MacDougals and because ye are on MacDougal land, I would like to offer ye sanctuary.”

“Oh, Gemma.” Knowing that she had such a good friend when she didn’t have any friends for so long brought tears to her eyes, and she stepped back. “Come inside. ‘Tis probably best to have this conversation indoors.”

Taking Jillian’s hand, Gemma refused to let go until the door was closed, and even then, Theo had to tug her away so Jillian could take off her cloak. Theo had already started a fire, so Jillian put a pot of mulled wine in the fireplace. “Now then,” she said as she sat down. “When I first arrived here, ye wouldnae offer me sanctuary.”

Gemma shot her husband a warning look, but Jillian patted her friend. “Please, Gemma, I want to know all that is involved before I accept.”

The laird’s eyes glimmered with respect. “We are under a peace treaty with the MacSeavers and an alliance. If ye were of no consequence to the laird, then there would probably be no fuss involved with me giving ye sanctuary, but because ‘tis Graeme coming to get ye and because ‘tis for crimes they believe ye committed, by offering ye sanctuary, I could be opening up my clan to war. Additionally, by breaking the peace treaty, the other clans may align with him against us.”

“That would not happen,” Gemma said sharply. “Hamish would certainly not allow it, which means that Connor and Alec would not either. I don’t know about Creighton, but I imagine he’ll stay out of things. He has enough to deal with. Besides, I do not think Graeme would allow that to happen.”

That got Jillian’s attention. “What do ye mean?”

“We are here because Graeme told us, Jillian. He had to know that we would ride straight here to protect you. He must hope that we would offer you sanctuary.”

That didn’t make any sense. She looked at Theo. “If Graeme isn’t the one who wants me to stand trial, then who?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she snarled. “The council!”

“Aye,” Theo sighed. “Why the MacSeaver lairds would allow addled old men to leash him, I will never know, but it looks like Graeme wilnae continue the tradition. Still, there is pressure, clan wide, since Fletcher made no actions against ye.”

Jillian shivered and closed her eyes, instantly transporting to the night they found her husband’s body. The torches outside her home. The terrifying shouts and accusations.

“Jillian,” Theo said softly, bringing her back to the present, “ye saved my wife’s life. Ye saved the loch. There is nothing that I wouldnae do for ye, and the people here will certainly do what it takes to protect ye.”

Getting up, she poured two glasses of mulled wine, giving Gemma some water instead. “I will think about it,” she said as she sipped her wine, knowing full well that she would not accept. Theo had done much to accrue the goodwill of his people, but he was still building his army. Jillian had seen firsthand what the MacSeavers were capable of. They would cut Theo’s people down, and the laird had to know it.

They spoke of Fletcher’s funeral and Gemma’s pregnancy and about the Oliver and Elizabeth saga. Gemma giggled when Jillian told her of the honeysuckle. It wasn’t long before Gemma was yawning and having a hard time keeping her eyes open.

As they stood to leave, Jillian gave them both fierce hugs. “I thank ye for coming to help me. I love ye both,” she whispered, wondering if this would be the last time they saw each other.

As soon as their lanterns disappeared down the road, she grabbed her saddlebag and began to pack. She had no intention of letting the council point their fingers and accuse her of being a witch, nor would she let the MacDougals come to harm. Her only other choice was to run.

Three clans bordered the loch. To the north was MacSeaver, and she wouldn’t get far. By now, she was easily recognized. She could go west, through MacDougal land, but then she’d cross into Sinclair territory. It was the largest and most heavily guarded clan, and she would quickly be captured and interrogated. There were no guarantees that Connor and Moira would help her even if they wanted to.

No, her best bet was to go south. Hamish’s territory was small, and the border to the loch was not so heavily patrolled since Theo and Hamish were brothers. If she could get through Hamilton lands, she would run into the Armstrong territory. She wouldn’t be liked if found on the account that Beth, her supposed friend, had seduced one brother into killing another, but there was a small pass until the MacKay territory, much of what was heavily dense forest since their clan was so small. If she got through there, she would be at the foot of the mountains, and no one in the lowlands would recognize her.

She had coin saved up and a good mare. It would be a dangerous journey, and her heart seized at the thought of meeting bandits and unscrupulous men on the road, but she had to try. To not was to give up, and Jillian had never given up in her life.

Graeme MacSeaver was not going to be the reason that she started now.

There was a time when she wore only the finest silks and braided necklaces of gold, but when she ran to the loch, she’d left all those things behind. She hadn’t even taken her bag with the MacSeaver crest or anything with her previous clan colors. It made packing tonight easy.

After leaving a note behind for Maria about Gil’s continued treatment and instructions for Agnes on harvesting and drying the rest of the herbs, along with recipes for her potions and poultices, she did a quick sweep of her house to make certain she hadn’t left anything behind.

Home. She hadn’t been here long and always had a feeling that her time here would be temporary, but nothing had ever felt quite like home as this small place. It tore at her to have to leave it behind.

Slipping a dagger into her boot, she gathered her things and slipped quietly out into the night. Her mare was stabled in the small barn behind her cottage, an unassuming little chestnut with a devious streak for stealing food out of people’s pockets.

“Come on, girl. We’re going to have a small adventure,” she told the horse and saddled her. Whispering a small prayer, she headed for the woods. The same woods that had nearly seen her death.

Hopefully, the small group of men patrolling the border there wouldn’t put up a fuss. She frequently left the border to go deeper into MacDougal territory to harvest some of the herbs from the woods. Only this time, she’d never gone in the dead of night before.