Page 77 of Highlander’s Forbidden Fruit

Dragging her hand across his shirt she checked to see where he had been pierced but she could see no obvious injury.

“Get Duncan!” she yelled behind her. “Quick!”

Cupping his cheek, she tried to catch his gaze, but it wandered here and there, unsettled, unseeing. “Aleck,” she whispered, her voice soothing. “Aleck, yer alright. Yer with me now. Yer home.”

“Cut too deep,” he mumbled. “All my fault.”

“Where are ye cut?” she asked, pulling up his shirt to see, but he was uninjured. “Show me.”

“I couldnae save him,” Aleck said, taking Evanna’s hands in a tight, painful grip. “It’s all my fault. I couldnae save him!” He let go just as suddenly as he had grabbed her, and his tired legs buckled. He fell in the snowy mud, his head bowing down in agony and repentance.

“What?” Evanna was confused.

“Evanna.” The Laird had reached her side. He was looking at her oddly. She blinked and saw everyone staring at her with a mix of pity and suspicion. “Come inside, lass.”

“But he needs help,” she said, turning back to Aleck. And then she saw one of the horses and the burden it carried on its back.

The world froze around her. John’s lifeless face swam in front of her eyes. Her knees buckled, much like Aleck’s, but she was unaware when she hit the ground. She had fainted clean away.

Chapter Thirty

A dark pall had fallen all over Glenlivet. The body of John Winchester had been cleaned, dressed, and laid out in full state in the church. The people of Glenlivet paid their respects, even those who had been opposed to an English fiancé.

While everyone agreed that the tragedy was unbearable for Lady Evanna, another faction couldn’t help but comment on the way she had reacted to Aleck when her betrothed was dead in front of her.

“Didnae even notice him.”

“Only saw him once she made sure Aleck was alright.”

“Is there something between them?”

“Must be. For why else would Aleck leave so sudden after her betrothal was announced, eh?”

Thankfully, none of these gleeful speculations reached Evanna. She was confined to her room, burning with fever. Body bathed in sweat, she tossed and turned as nightmares disturbed her slumber.

For three days and three nights she suffered. Laird MacLeod paced outside her room, asking about her every half an hour. Duncan had to forbid him from the side of her bed lest he relapse into his ill health. Sarah promised to bring him news once the fever broke, and only then did Laird MacLeod return to his chambers.

Letters had been dispatched by post chase immediately after Aleck had returned. One was for Lord Ashby, and the other for Lord Winchester. The Laird awaited their arrival. He clasped his hands and hoped his friend would arrive before John’s father. It was no easy feat to tell a man his son and heir had perished while in your care.

Then there was Aleck to worry about. The lad was unharmed, but he seemed to suffer from the same ailment as Evanna. Laird MacLeod wondered about them. Was it possible that Evanna and Aleck shared more than a passing friendship? He had witnessed his daughter's concern for Aleck, seen how deranged she had become at the thought that he had been harmed.

Upon learning the treachery of Vano, a host of men had gone to demand justice from the gypsies'. But the tribe had left two days prior. They must have known what Vano was planning because it was unheard of for a tribe to move anywhere in the dead of winter. It’s a shame, thought the Laird. Vano had damned his tribe that already struggled with ill-repute, and now they’d never be welcome in Glenlivet.

Unlike Evanna, he had heard the malicious gossip. Lockard had informed him of it and asked for permission to meet out quick and severe punishment. The Laird had declined to give permission. How many tongues could they stop from wagging? The yard had been full of men and women when Aleck had arrived. Too many people had seen Evanna bare her heart.

“People talk, Lockard. It’s what they do. Is a Laird supposed to pay any mind to petty gossip? Nae. Let them have their fun. It will blow over in a few weeks.”

Part of him wished for Evanna’s speedy recovery, the other wished for her to be sheltered from the harsh tongues for as long as possible.

He pulled out the pocket watch from his coat and opened it. Mary’s lovely face smiled up at him. “What am I to do, Mary? How can I protect her from the ruthless gossip of people?”

A knock on the door announced Sarah. The slip of a girl poked her pale head inside his door. “My Laird, the fever broke. Lady Evanna is sleeping soundly now.”

“Thank ye, Sarah. Ye get yer rest too. She’ll need ye well rested and ready when she wakes up.”

“Aye, Laird,” Sarah bowed her head and left.

The Laird went back to looking at his wife’s portrait. Evanna reminded him so much of Mary. She had the same spirit, the same convictions. No matter how much he had protected her, raised her to only know happiness, God had other plans. And when God makes a plan, it is the best plan.