Page 58 of Highlander’s Sweet Poison

With a predatory gleam in his eye, Creighton nodded. “While I am here, I might as well be useful.”

Jillian’s heart would be broken when she discovered that someone she trusted had betrayed her, but Graeme would spend all the time necessary to show her that things were going to change. She would be able to trust him and the rest of the MacSeavers because she had gained their trust, all on her own.

First, he would cleanse the clan of the last of their dark stains.

As he and Creighton marched to Art’s home, he knew something was wrong as soon as Kylie stepped outside the door instead of Art. She glanced hesitantly at Creighton for a moment before she bowed her head. “Laird Graeme. I trust that Jillian and Art were able to stop the challenge.”

His insides twisted. “Lass, the challenge was fought and I won. What are ye talking about? Where is Jillian?”

Her eyes widened. “I...is she not with ye? When she heard about the challenge, she made haste here to get Art’s help in stopping it. We havenae heard from her, so Alexina was on her way to the arena to see ye, and I came here to see if they had returned.”

“Why would she go to Art?” Graeme bellowed as he stormed into the cottage.

“She feared Alan would someone break the rules and end ye. Art was to ask his parents for a deal. They halt the challenge and Jillian would do as they wanted and leave,” Kylie whispered. “She was trying to protect ye. What is wrong?”

The small home was empty, but when he stormed into the kitchen, he saw the tankard on the floor. As he bent down to pick it up, someone else on the floor caught his eye.

Blood.

“That bastard has her,” he ground out.

Creighton inhaled sharply. “He’s going to kill her.”

28

Jillian woke in the dark to the scent of her own blood and the keen awareness that she was not alone. Groaning, she tried to move, but her arms were bound behind her back.

There was a rag tied over her mouth.

Panic struck her, and she struggled to breathe as she moved. Something wooden and rough scraped on her arms, and she whimpered.

“‘Tis about time ye woke. I was starting to think that I had killed ye too.” Gentle hands touched her face and ran through her hair, and her skin crawled, but she forced herself still until finally, Art tugged down the gag over her mouth.

“We have some time,” he told her cheerfully. “Yer husband just left, and I imagine it will be some time before he returns. He will be scouring the clan to look for ye. The laird is far too thickheaded to look for ye in the cellar.”

Her lips were dry, and she tried to moisten them with her tongue. “What are ye doing, Art? I thought we were friends. Why have ye hurt me?”

“I didnae mean to, Jillian. I realized that when ye first came here, ye were already wed, and I didnae hold that against ye. After all, we hadnae met ye, and I trusted that eventually, ye would see that we were meant to be together. Ye are so beautiful and fragile and sweet. How can ye not be made for me?”

Bile rose in her throat, and she nearly vomited. The sound of his voice used to bring her joy, and now it made her body tremble with terror. “I could not be with ye, Art,” she said carefully. “I made vows to God to be faithful to Fulton.”

“I know that,” he said bitterly. In the dim light of the cellar, she watched his outline as he paced. “I was coming up with a plan to dispatch yer husband when I heard that ye allowed Alan to touch ye. Alan!”

She struggled to keep her voice calm. “He touched me, Art. Not the other way around. I fought him.”

“Aye, ye did, but then I wondered how many others had tried to touch ye, and I realized that ye would never be mine. Not fully. Ye liked their attention! I needed a way to isolate ye from the others. To make it so that none would touch ye once ye were mine.”

All this time, she’d turned to Art when her heart grew too heavy with sorrow, and he was the reason for it. “Ye told them I was a witch.”

“The people of this clan are too quick to latch on to superstitions,” Art laughed wickedly. “A few whispers in the right ears, and truly, Alan did just what I thought he would. Soon, everyone hated ye, and still, ye didnae turn to me. I tried to find another, but when I touched her, all I saw was ye, and then she was so still and so bloody, and I couldnae pretend she was ye anymore.”

This time, Jillian did lean over and retch behind the crates. The stack wobbled just a little when she leaned her weight on it. “Did ye kill Fulton?” she whispered.

“Nay, but his death was my fortune, or so I thought. Then Fletcher had ye tucked away so that none could see ye, and then ye left,” Art howled. “Ye left me! We are bound by something too great to comprehend, and ye ran from it and returned with him!”

There was so much rage in his voice. It was the sound of a madman, and Jillian knew that she would never be able to reason with him, only pacify him. She leaned against the crates again. “They were going to try me for Fulton’s murder, Art. I would have been executed or imprisoned, and then how would we be together? Wedding Graeme was the only option so I could be free.”

“To be with me?”