Page 32 of Highlander’s False Identity

Edme looked him in the face with shame. Already the signs of bruising had started to come out, and it was evident that he would have quite a shiner. That, and the dint she’d put in his chin with the slingshot, made far more impact on his face than anything the English had done!

Just as she was about to pluck up the courage to face him again, Beathan spoke.

“A while back, ye asked me a question,” he said, giving a pause as he looked at her. “Ye asked me why did I kiss ye?”

Now he had her attention; Edme was watching his face intently.

“Go on,” she said with a nod.

“When I met ye in the clearing when ye tried to rob me…,” he started, a strange smile twisting around his lips.

“Aye,” Edme said, looking straight at him. He smiled oddly.

“Well, ever since then, when ye threw the stone at me, I have wanted to kiss ye!” he said. “Maybe that sounds strange…”

Edme blushed. Her behavior that day filled her with mortification.

“Och, about that,” she said, coming up to him and inspecting the mark left by her well-aimed stone. “I’m sorry…”

“Och, it’s nothing,” Beathan said, rubbing his chin. “In a funny sort of way, I like it. It reminds me of our first meeting. Maybe it’s something we can tell the grandchildren – do ye think it’ll stay there for all time?” he asked.

Edme felt her eyes swim, taking in what he’d just said.

“Och, take no notice of me,” said Beathan quickly, seeing her face fall.

The mention of grandchildren had startled her, and Edme recoiled slightly from Beathan’s gaze.

“Nae, Beathan, about that, I’m sorry,” she said, pushing the hair out of her face.

“Ye dinnae have to say sorry again,” Beathan told her. He smiled genially as a cool breeze rippled through the valley, making her shiver slightly.

“Aye, but I am. What on earth must ye think of me, a woman… robbing ye?” she asked. This guilt had burdened her heart since setting off that morning.

“Well, I suppose ye had yer reasons; although I must say, I would like to ken what they were… and what ye were doing out there alone for so long….” Beathan said, and then watched as her face fell by a mile.

Dispirited, Edme watched him. “Aye, I have been asking myself the same thing. If I had come to ye earlier, then perhaps the English wouldn’t be at yer door!” she said, looking distraught.

“Nae, that’s nae what I meant, lass. It wasn’t meant to be a criticism. I just wondered how ye managed out there… Nae, forget I asked,” he said, quickly turning away.

“Nae, it’s a fair question. The fact is, I didnae manage very well. My plan, if there was one, was to rob as many travelers as possible, an’ get enough coin together to get out of here an’ go… well, I dinnae ken, maybe Aberdeen, maybe Perth, maybe even Edinburgh. The truth was, I didnae ken myself…,” she said, her voice trailing off as she looked up to meet the glint in his eye.

Now that it was dark, it seemed if all the colors of the universe were mixing in the night sky above their heads. Bit by bit, the red of Beathan’s hair was replaced by a burnished copper, which glinted in the moonlight.

The vibrant green of his eyes was dissolving into monochrome, and the stars cast his features darker somehow: less colorful, but more alluring.

“Ye were planning on robbing folk?” he asked thoughtfully.

Edme froze. She wondered what he must think of her, what any of them must think: a woman on the run from the law. And then she remembered that he had protected her, even then, by not telling the laird about her actions.

“Aye,” she said in a small voice, nodding at him nervously. “Aye, that was the idea…”

“An’ how much did ye get, exactly?” he asked her, his eyes following hers intently.

Despite the cold, Edme began to perspire. She shifted uncomfortably on the log.

“Nothing, nothing is what I got,” she said simply. “Ye were the first…”

Beathan gave her a look as if he couldn’t believe what he had heard.