CHAPTER SIX
Blake woke to find his shoulder aching, but his head was no longer full of fever dreams, and the shaking that had plagued him had subsided. He frowned as he cast his thoughts back, trying to recapture the events of the previous afternoon and evening. He remembered everything up to the point where he’d been stabbed, but the time following that was hazy.
He’d given Reyna directions to this cave, he thought, and he vaguely remembered Reyna removing his shirt and tending his wound – the poultice on his shoulder told him he hadn’t imagined that much. His mouth tasted of herbs, suggesting she’d poured one of her teas or tisanes into him as well.
But where was she? Blake shoved himself into a sitting position, ready to go search for her, only to stop short as he spotted her sitting in the entrance of the cave, wrapped in a blanket against the morning chill. As soon as he was upright, she spoke. “How are ye feeling?”
“Better than I was.” He prodded his shoulder. “Ye’ve done good work. Thank ye.”
“Aye...” She paused, a troubled expression on her face, before she shifted closer and lay her hand on his arm. “And just so ye ken... I believe ye, though I’d like tae ken the full story someday.”
He blinked, confused by the odd statement. “What are ye talking about?”
She drew back but met his gaze steadily. “Ye were fevered last night. Ye spoke in yer nightmares, about yer faither. About what happened tae him.”
Nae. Gods above, how could I have been fevered enough tae reveal that?He felt a little sick. “Dinnae ken what ye heard…”
“Dinnae take me fer a fool, Blake Sinclair. One look at yer face tells me ye ken well enough what I’m referring tae. And given that ye apparently abandoned me over the matter and left me grieving yer disappearance, ye owe me an explanation.”
Blake flushed and looked away from her. “’Tis nae something I like tae talk about. It’s a hard thing tae be thinking o’.”
“What o’ it? ‘Twas hard fer me tae face when ye left me standing in that meadow every day fer a year, and I had tae admit that ye were never coming back. And yet, I survived it, aye, and learned tae live with it and move forward.”
He grimaced. As much as he didn’t like to hear it, she was right. He’d been too panicked and heartsick back then to think about how she might feel, but there was no denying he’d hurt her.
A hand on his arm made him look up, and he found Reyna had come closer. Her face was still stern, but there was a glimmer of compassion in her eyes. “I ken it’s difficult, but I’ve spent so many days wondering...” Her voice cracked a little, and she paused a moment before she continued. “...’twould be easier, and give me some peace, and ye as well I think, if ye’d just tell me why ye behaved as ye did.”
She was right about that as well. He took a deep breath. “Ye ken Hutch said me faither had collapsed.”
“Aye.”
“He wouldnae say in front o’ ye, but the truth was me faither had died afore he came tae get me. He was found on the floor by one o’ the maids. The healer told the Elders and me uncle that he’d been poisoned.”
Thinking of that day was hard. “Hutch told me that because I was out o’ the castle, and because me faither and I had argued the night afore he passed, folk were thinking I’d been the one tae murder him. They kent I spent time with ye, and that even then, ye had a way with teas and herbs. Hutch said that by the time he came looking fer me, there were already rumors that I’d murdered me own faither, and then fled the castle tae either cast suspicion elsewhere, or tae escape the consequences. He told methat without proof o’ me innocence, it was near certain the Clan Elders would have me head. And I kent he was right, so I fled.”
“And why did ye never come tae see me, or even write?”
“Because I didn’t want ye tainted by any rumored association with a kin-killer. And because I didnae want people tae think ye were helping me flee or believe the rumors that ye might have helped me poison me faither.” He hesitated a moment, uncertain about revealing the rest of it. But then, how could it be any worse than what he’d already told her? “And I was afraid that ye might believe the rumors as well.”
“I wouldnae have.” She paused. “Ye should ken, there never were any accusations made against me. In fact, we never heard what happened tae Laird Leith, save that he passed. The only message we had on the matter was that he’d died, and ye’d abandoned yer duties, and been named outcast fer it.”
Her hair always fell into her face when she was upset and too preoccupied to brush it back. It hid her eyes. When he’d begun to fall in love with her, he’d hated that, hated not being able to see how her eyes sparkled and changed with different emotions. He could remember when he’d brushed it away and teased her with it, and how he’d longed to do so with a kiss, that last day in the meadow when she was ranting about the perils of being a lass.
The longing hadn’t changed, and ten years hadn’t eliminated his urge to reach out as his boyhood-self had done. He stopped himself with an effort and forced his wayward thoughts back to the task at hand. “I didnae. And I didnae want tae abandon ye.I swear it tae ye... if I hadnae been afraid fer yer safety and reputation, I’d have come back tae ye.”
Reyna sat for several minutes after Blake had finished speaking, turning over his words in her thoughts. What he’d said made sense, and she could even understand why he’d thought that leaving her behind was the best thing to do.
Still, she had a feeling that wasn’t the whole tale. There was the matter of how he’d come to be a warrior of the Murray clan. “Why’d ye go tae Laird Murray?”
Blake scowled. “I didnae, nae deliberately. I was traveling and ran afoul o’ bandits. I could handle them easily enough now, but then I was a stripling with nae enough training or size tae make the difference when I was outnumbered as bad as I was.” He lifted a hand to run a finger down the prominent scar she’d noticed the day before. “One o’ them gave me this, and more wounds besides. I thought I was going tae die, but when I came tae, I was in the cottage o’ Laird Oran’s healer. His scouts had found me in the nick o’ time, and brought me in. Laird Oran came tae speak tae me, and he told me that he’d tak’ me in, if I was willing tae serve him. Said if I could prove meself, he’d give me safety, training and a position at his side. Given the debt I owed him fer me life and the straits I was in, I wasnae in any sort o’ position tae refuse.”
She could sense the sincerity of his words. More than that, his story answered many of the questions she’d had over the years,and since she’d realized who he truly was. While no one would ever accuse Oran Murray of being a good man, or a kind one, he had the sort of sly mind that could see the sort of asset Blake might be. Even if he knew no more than Reyna’s father about the circumstances of Laird Leith’s death, he was the sort who’d take pleasure in claiming another clans’ child, especially an heir and making him into a valued warrior of his clan.
Blake was still watching her, waiting for her reaction. She took a deep breath. “I believe ye.”
“And will ye forgive me?”
How to answer that? After a moment of thought, she reached under the collar of her blouse and fished out the metal flower he’d given her, their last day together as children. Blake’s eyes widened as she lifted it free and held it out. She shifted closer, the small flower on it’s worn leather cord between them, until she was close enough to feel the heat of his body and hear the unsteady rasping of every inhalation. His eyes were locked on the battered metal flower, and he lifted an unsteady hand to touch it as she spoke.
