Highland Spy: Highland Chronicles Series - Book 4 Read online

  * * *

  Bridget ran to the stables and collected her horse, raising her hood up over her head so no one would realize she’d been crying. She didn’t wait to ask the stableboy to saddle the horse since he was busy helping the king’s servants with all the extra horses that were there from the king’s entourage.

  She stood on the gate to the stall, getting atop her horse and leaving the stables riding bareback. Emotions overtook her. She needed to ride with the wind in her hair to try to blow away her worries and to regain her composure. This wasn’t like her to cry too easily. But lately, her worries were growing and she was becoming frightened of the future.

  Not exactly sure what was happening to her father, Bridget had no idea how to care for him or if she really could. All she’d known for most of her life was being with her father and helping him as the king’s chronicler. Without that job, or if her father were to be imprisoned, killed, or just die for some reason, she’d be lost.

  Caleb reprimanding her was more than she could endure. She had feelings for him and truly saw him the way that she’d written about him in the book. Why didn’t he understand that she was only trying to express her feelings the only way she knew how?

  Instead of sticking to the road, she headed to the river where Caleb had taken her the day before. She needed to be alone to think. Lately, life was becoming more and more challenging, and she seemed to be making the wrong decisions.

  When she approached the water, she tethered her horse to a bush and sat down on a rock and cried. Holding her face in her hands, she let out all her emotions that she’d been keeping inside ever since she was a child.

  She wasn’t sure how long she sat there before she heard the sound of hoofbeats approaching. Sniffling, she wiped her eyes, turning around to see Caleb dismounting his horse and heading toward her.

  “Go away,” she told him, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from crying in front of him.

  “Bridget, we need to talk.” He walked up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder.

  “I have nothin’ to say to ye, now leave me alone.” She pushed his hand off of her, and headed down closer to the water, not turning to look at him again.

  “Stop it, Bridget,” he told her. “I came here to talk to ye, now quit pushin’ me away.”

  “Ye came here to accuse me of hurtin’ ye again, and I dinna want to hear it.”

  “Nay,” he said softly, gently reaching out to touch her on the arm. “Lass, that is no’ why I’m here. I followed ye to apologize, because I’m the one who hurt ye and I’m sorry.”

  “Really?” she asked, sniffling again, turning slightly to peer at him out of the corners of her eyes.

  “Really,” he answered, no longer sounding angry. “Bridget, look at me. Please. I need ye to see my face when I talk to ye because I want ye to ken that I mean what I say.”

  Slowly, she turned, peering up into the sincere eyes of a man she admired more than anyone she’d ever met.

  “That’s better,” he said, grinning slightly, reaching out and wiping a tear from her cheek. “I understand that ye thought ye were helpin’ me and didna mean anythin’ bad by what ye wrote in the book.”

  “I meant those things about ye, Caleb. Every single one of them is how ye look to me.”

  “But those things are no’ true.”

  “That’s the way I see ye. And it’s the only way I kent how to show ye what ye mean to me. I’m a chronicler. I’ve been writin’ in the book for my faither for years now. I dinna ken how to say things to people, so I say them through my writin’ instead. If I hurt ye in any way, I didna mean to. I only wanted ye to ken how much ye really mean to me.”

  “Blethers, Bridget,” he said, with a puff of air from his mouth. “Then I wish ye would have written it down just for me and no’ in the king’s book for everyone in Scotland to hear him read aloud.”

  “He read it aloud?”

  Caleb nodded.

  Now she felt really bad. “Och, I see why ye’re mad now. I guess I made a mistake.”

  “Dinna fret about it, lass. What’s done is done and we will need to learn to live with it.”

  “But what will everyone think now?”

  “It doesna matter.” Caleb chuckled a little and one side of his mouth raised.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  “Ye should have seen Storm’s face when he was the one readin’ about me aloud.”

  “Oh, nay.”

  “Oh, aye. With that man’s pride, he’ll be out tossin’ cabers and practicin’ shootin’ arrows from mornin’ until night, just because he thinks someone is outdoin’ him.”

  They both laughed at that, even if the outcome was not a funny situation.

  “I didna ken ye felt that way about me, Bridget.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her atop her head.

  “I was afraid to get close to ye at first, Caleb, even if ye were the kindest person I’d ever met. I feel safe bein’ around ye. Aye, ye took my interest, but when ye started watchin’ my every move and followin’ me around and askin’ all those questions, I got scared. I didna want to let ye too close to me for fear ye’d find out my faither’s secret.”

  “Ye mean yer secret, since ye were the one writin’ the chronicles all along and no one kent it.”

  “Aye, that’s part of it, but no’ all of it.”

  “There’s more?” he asked, holding her at arm’s length and looking into her eyes. “Bridget, please be honest with me and tell me everythin’.”

  “I will. I will because I ken that I can trust ye now, Caleb. My faither is no’ only goin’ blind and canna hold a quill properly to write, but lately he’s becomin’ forgetful, and seein’ things that are no’ there.”

  “Does this have somethin’ to do with why Lady Wren and my sister were givin’ ye herbs?”

  “Aye. I asked for their assistance in healin’ my faither. The herbs help him to sleep, and he doesna have the hallucinations all the time, but he’s unstable. I never ken when he’s goin’ to act up. If the king finds out that I’ve been writin’ the chronicles and my faither is goin’ mad, I canna even imagine what might happen.”

  “Bridget, it’s too risky. Ye need to stop all this. Isna there a way for yer faither to give up the job of bein’ the king’s chronicler? If so, then King Robert doesna ever need to find out ye’ve deceived him, and yer faither’s madness can hopefully be kept a secret forever.”

  “I dinna ken how,” she said, shaking her head. “Especially since the Leader of the Lairds Competition is in process. The king wants everythin’ recorded. I have no idea how I’m goin’ to do that, and try to hide my faither’s illness at the same time.”

  “I’ll help ye,” offered Caleb. “I will do whatever possible to help ye with this one last task, and then we’ll figure out a way for yer faither to stop bein’ the king’s chronicler.”

  “Ye’d do that?” she asked, feeling hope for the first time in a long while. “Even after how my words embarrassed ye in front of all the lairds and the king? Why would ye do somethin’ to help me?”

  “I’d do it because I care about ye, Bridget.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her gently on the lips. “I’ve been attracted to ye since the first time I saw ye, even with those baggy clothes and with the way ye wore yer hair in braids like a child.”

  She smiled at him. “Ye’re sayin’ ye’re attracted to lassies who look young?”

  “Nay. I’m sayin’ I saw somethin’ in ye that no one else did. And dinna forget, ye’re a year aulder than me, so I guess I like aulder women.”

  “Oh, Caleb, I really like ye, too,” she said, standing on her toes and kissing him. He kissed her back and, before she knew it, his hands started to wander. He lowered her down to the soft grass beneath them, laying her back and covering her with his body.

  “We’re out in the open,” she reminded him, doing nothing to stop him when his hand covered one breast and he squeezed gently.

  “We’re beh
ind the trees and no one can see us from the road. If anyone comes, we’ll hear their horse long before they get here.”

  “I’ve never done anythin’ like this before,” she told him, feeling herself coming alive under his touch. He lowered his mouth to her chest, kissing the skin just beneath her neck. And when his kisses went lower and she felt the air on her breast, she realized he’d pulled back her bodice and dipped below her shift to expose her. Then his mouth came down over her nipple and his tongue shot out, licking her, making her squirm beneath him.

  “Do ye like that, lass?” he asked, his hot breath on her wet nipple exciting her even more.

  “I do,” she admitted through ragged breathing.

  He took her into his mouth, holding her breast with two hands, fondling her and making her go taut. His erection pushed up against her belly, and she felt his hardness right through his plaid.

  “I canna help myself when I’m around ye, Bridget. Ye drive me out of my mind.” He continued to kiss her on the mouth as he let one hand roam down her hip, gripping at her plaid and slipping beneath it.

  “Mmm,” he said against her mouth as he slowly slid his hand upward, sneaking a finger under her braies, touching her between her legs. Then, she felt his finger slip inside her and her body vibrated as she gasped aloud.

  “What is it?” he asked her. “Did I hurt ye?”

  Her heart was pounding wildly, sounding like thunder in her ears. She wanted this more than anything, but felt as if they were moving too fast and it frightened her.

  “I – I think we should slow down, Caleb.”

  “Why?” he asked, burying his face in her cleavage. When she felt his tongue against her skin again, she arched up beneath him, wondering what it would feel like to make love with Caleb. “Dinna ye want me?”

  “Aye, I do,” she admitted. “But I dinna think it is the right time for this. Please.”

  His head popped up and he looked into her eyes. “Are ye really sayin’ ye want me to stop?” Hope as well as fear shone in his dark orbs.

  “Aye, I’m sorry. I – I just canna do this right now.”

  “I see,” he said, getting off of her, and helping her get her clothes back into place. “I’m sorry, Bridget. I didna mean to force myself on ye.”

  “Nay, ye didna.” She took his hands in hers and looked deeply into his eyes. “I care for ye, Caleb. And if I’m goin’ to make love with anyone, I want it to be ye. But I just canna do this right now.”

  “Oh, ye’re a virgin and ye’re scared. I understand. Ye dinna need to be frightened, lass.”

  All of a sudden, she felt like such a traitor, because there was something else she hadn’t told him, and mayhap she should. But somehow, she didn’t think now was the right time to tell him that she wasn’t a virgin and, at one time, had actually been married.

  Chapter 14

  The next morning came fast and, thankfully, Bridget’s father seemed back to his old self again when he awoke.

  “I’m so glad ye’re feelin’ better, Faither,” said Bridget, opening the shutter to let in the sun and fresh air. The aroma of freshly baked bread drifted on the breeze. Outside, the servants and Highlanders all hurried back and forth, preparing for the first round of the finals that would start soon. This morning would be the caber toss amongst the six finalists. Each event would have a winner, but points were given and, in the end, the man with the most points would win the title and prize.

  “We need to hurry, Da,” she told her father, spotting the king and his entourage already heading out to the field in front of the castle where the cabers would be tossed. Storm was with them, as well as the other five competitors. “The king will expect ye to write down all the events of the competition,” she reminded him. “Just pretend to write like ye usually do, and I’ll fill in the blank pages when we return to our room.”

  “I canna find the fake bottle of ink,” said Brigham, digging through the bag on the table. “I willna be able to pretend to write if I dinna have it. When is the last time ye saw it?”

  Bridget thought about it and knew exactly where she’d lost it. It had to have been in the graveyard when Caleb gave it back to her. She must have left it there by accident.

  “Dinna worry about it, Faither. I think I ken where it is. Are ye able to go by yerself out to the field for the caber toss? If so, I’ll meet ye there.”

  “Of course, Daughter,” he said, picking up the bag with the Highland Chronicles in it. “I will see ye at the competition.”

  As soon as her father left, Bridget finished dressing, not able to stop thinking about her intimate time with Caleb. She’d been so close to making love with him, and had dreamed about it all night long. Part of her had wanted to do it, but another part of her didn’t feel as if it were right.

  Opening her trunk, she pulled out a small box of trinkets she had, choosing the plain gold wedding ring and holding it up to peruse it. It was so long ago that she’d been married to Valan Douglas that she felt as if it weren’t even real. She was young and he was much older. It had been a horrible time in her life and she was glad when the marriage ended up being annulled.

  Placing the ring back into the box, she thought she heard a noise in the corridor. Quickly crossing the floor, she pulled open the door, jerking back in surprise to find Caleb standing there with his fist raised in the air, as if he were about to knock. His pine marten ran past her feet, into her room.

  “Och, Caleb, ye scared me,” she said with her hand to her chest. Her heart beat rapidly and she wasn’t sure if it was from being surprised or because Caleb was standing so near.

  “Guid mornin’, Bridget” he said, with a smile that told her he was happy today.

  “Guid mornin’, Caleb,” she replied shyly, thinking once again about their intimate time together by the river. He looked so handsome today. Then again, he always looked good to her.

  “I came to escort ye to the competition.”

  “Thank ye,” she said. “So . . . ye’re no longer angry with me for writin’ all those guid things in the book about ye?”

  He reached out and caressed her cheek, looking deeply into her eyes. “Lass, I ken ye only meant well, so how could I stay mad at ye?”

  “I need to stop by the graveyard on our way,” she told him.

  “Really?” He looked confused. “What for?”

  “I lost my faither’s fake bottle of ink and he’ll need it if he’s goin’ to convince the king he’s really writin’ the chronicles.”

  “Blethers, I almost forgot.” He dipped his hand into his bag and held out the fake bottle of ink.

  “Ye found it,” she said, taking it and putting it in a bag of her things on the table.

  “I saw it in the graveyard when I let Slink wander this mornin’. I figured ye might need it.”

  “All right, I’m ready. Let’s go,” she told him, not wanting to leave her father alone too long. Who knew what would happen.

  “Slink, come on,” said Caleb, stretching his neck. The pine marten was on the table playing with something. “Slink, ye are no’ listenin’ to me.” Caleb entered the room and scooped up his pet. “What have ye got now?”

  To Bridget’s horror, Caleb held up the ring.

  “It seems Slink has found yer faither’s weddin’ ring,” he said, turning it over and inspecting it. “Or mayhap it’s yer mathair’s.” He looked at the ring closer. “Were ye named after yer mathair, lass?”

  “My mathair? Nay. Her name was Greer. Why do ye ask?”

  “Because this ring has yer name engraved inside, that’s why. I dinna understand.”

  Bridget’s heart almost stopped. She should have told Caleb about it yesterday, and she hadn’t. Now, it only made her look bad in his eyes. She didn’t want to keep secrets from him anymore, so she just came right out and told him.

  “That ring has my name engraved inside because . . . it’s mine.”

  “What?” He looked at her oddly. “But it looks like a weddin’ ring.”

&nbs
p; “It is. Caleb, I wanted to tell ye yesterday, but I couldna find the nerve to do it. I was married for a few years when I was only six and ten years of age. But the marriage didna last long.”

  “Ye were married?” he asked softly, putting the ring back in the box. He sounded very disappointed and she didn’t know if it was because she was less desirable now, wasn’t a virgin, or just because she’d kept the information from him.

  “Aye, to an aulder man named Valan Douglas. I didna like him and he was mean to me and often hurt me.”

  His head snapped up. “Nay. I’m sorry, Bridget. I’m sure ye didna deserve it.”

  “Valan said I was . . . worthless,” she said, looking down and wringing her hands together.

  “Nay, ye’re no’,” he said softly. “Why would any man ever say that?”

  “Because I – I couldna bear him a child.” All her past emotions flooded her at once. It bothered her immensely that she would never be able to give any man a son. “I am barren, Caleb, and because of that Valan had the marriage annulled.”

  “Why would ye keep this from me, lass? What was the purpose?” He didn’t look pleased.

  “I didna tell ye because I didna want ye to leave me, too.”

  “Did ye really think that I would?” He picked up his pine marten and walked over to her. “My feelin’s for ye, Bridget, are the same – no matter if ye can bear children or no’.”

  “Nay. Ye dinna mean that,” she said, with tears in her eyes. “Every man’s legacy is to have sons. Or at least daughters. I canna give ye either.”

  “I didna realize we were already plannin’ on spendin’ the rest of our lives together.”

  “Nay,” she said, feeling a stab through her heart. “Of course, no’. I’m sorry.”

  “I think we’d better get to the competition since it’ll be startin’ any minute and yer faither will need that ink bottle.”

  “Aye. I agree. Let’s go,” she said, leaving with Caleb, feeling like something between them had changed and that it was all her fault.