Page 23 of Highlander’s Evil Twin

Maggie hugged her. “I saw him attack you that day. I will keep a lookout for when he is around. He has been better lately though, so perhaps his change of behavior is genuine?”

Heather nodded. “I hope so. He terrifies me. I have felt so alone.” She felt as if a weight lifted off her chest. She wasn’t the only one and it felt good to know.

“No, you are not alone. But you must not tell Mother. She will not see it and it will only cause you trouble,” Maggie said, her eyes sorrowful.

“What did he do to you?” Heather asked, sensing that Maggie’s story went deep.

Maggie laughed bitterly. “Apart from the beatings when I was young, it wasn’t me he did it to, but Annabelle, a friend of mine. He had asked her out on a date and she was so excited. All she could do was talk about how happy she was, and I remembered that she had always had a crush on Connor, and he had finally noticed her. She was on top of the world. But, he hurt her badly that night, I mean, physically, and she came to me. She cried about what he had done to her and I felt sick. She was terrified and he had made her promise to keep quiet. But when I confronted him, he told me she had thrown herself at him and that he was disgusted with her.”

Maggie sighed. “He was lying of course. She was covered in bruises. So, I told her that she must say something, that this wasn’t right. I talked her into telling my father about the crime. He was furious. He asked Connor about it and Connor lied right to his face. He said that she had wanted to sleep with him but expected marriage and when he refused, she had started spreading lies about him.”

Maggie drew a deep breath. “My father could see the fear in the girl’s eyes when Connor spoke and he wanted to get to the truth of what had really happened. My mother, she was not happy at all, she yelled at my father for hours. I feared that Connor might hurt my friend, so I went to her and promised to help keep her safe. I never realized at that point how far my mother would go to protect Connor. She came to visit Annabelle that night and left her a message and a weapon. My mother had talked her into being so ashamed for losing her virginity, even though Connor had abused her. Annabelle blamed herself for the attack, thanks to my mother, and she killed herself. It was my fault, but I will always hate both Connor and my mother for their parts in this story too.”

Tears shone in her eyes. The memory was still so raw.

Heather hugged her and let her cry. She didn’t know what to say to her but knew that just by holding her, she was giving her some support. What it did mean was that Connor and his mother were both completely unscrupulous. Hiram had mentioned madness of a sort and now Heather feared he might be right.

The next morning dawned brightly. Heather recalled the conversation she’d had with Maggie. It seemed impossible that Connor had been saved after raping that girl. Even if her intention had just been to save her son, how could his mother have been so cruel to the victim? Sure, she was overly indulgent about her son, but was there no end to her willingness to overlook his crimes? Heather felt her blood run cold. She’d been right to fear him, and it seemed that there would be no protection from her mother-in-law.

Deep within, there was an utterly cold and evil streak. He was certainly capable of taking what he wanted. She’d heard that some men liked the chase and enjoyed living dangerously, that when a woman said no, it really meant yes. She’d experienced that herself a long time ago. Heather felt her stomach lurch at the memory as it surged to the surface. She fought it down. Swallowing hard, she regained her composure. She’d long forgotten that time and didn’t want it to resurface again.

Did Connor not have any guilt? No regrets? Of course, part of the responsibility lay at his mother’s feet. She’d as good as killed that girl with her behavior, anything to protect her precious son. How could she condone rape? No sane woman would do that surely. But then, unbidden, her eyes fell to her own tummy and she ran her hands across the slightly swollen belly and thickening waistline. How far would she go to protect this little one?

If she had a boy, she would protect him from the whiles of all those wanton women out there who would be after the Laird’s son and teach him to protect and respect all those he met. He would be charming and kind. He would be loving. In fact, her son would grow up to be exactly like Hiram, and that filled her with great joy. If she had a daughter, she would be taught to respect others but to forge her own path in life. If she wanted to climb trees, she could. If she wanted to dig in the garden and get dirty, she would. Heather grimaced; there were things in life that gave such pleasure. Tending the land, even if on a tiny scale, appreciating the simplest crawling bug, and seeing the fruits of your own endeavors. Although she had been brought up as a lady, she’d still had relative freedom when young too. Her child would have all those good things to form the foundations of growth. Whether boy or girl, this child would be loved.

She leaned against the wall, still nurturing that tummy which showed no real external signs of change, but Heather could feel her body changing. She felt different too. From the night of her marriage when Hiram had gently made love to her for the first time, and during those hundreds of other times when he had entered her body, she had wondered if she might conceive. She smiled wickedly. They had made love so much and never once considered protecting against pregnancy—and now, within them, a product of that love. A secret for now, until she started to show, and then it would be too difficult to hide it. Her emotions were already starting to run riot. She wanted to cry although couldn’t say it was because of anything in particular. She would do anything to defend this unborn child. Could loving something so much drive you to act irrationally?

Since moving to the castle and marrying Hiram, Heather had very little to do with his mother. She’d not had the opportunity to break through that reserved air she carried with her. She had been much worse since Hiram’s father had died, of course. Had practically become a hermit, reluctant to leave her rooms. That was understandable. She must feel his loss terribly and wondered if that would make her lean on Connor more? How would she feel if she thought Hiram was driving him away?

Lady MacGregor was wandering alone in the garden. Her pose was filled with angst. She was looking out over the moors, probably longing to catch site of Connor. Heather doubted that she would be thinking in the same way about Hiram. She felt sad at that thought. Now, Heather remembered how she had witnessed mother and son in the garden one day not long ago. His mother had affectionately reached up and patted his hair down after the breeze had whipped his locks into an unmanageable style. Then she’d reached for his hand as if gaining strength from holding it and from feeling the warmth of his skin against her, relishing that connection between them. She had treated him like a child. Heather contemplated and wondered whether something had happened to Connor when he was young. Had it made her over-protective?

Heather wondered if Connor was as loyal to his mother. Was he even capable of genuine emotions? He had enjoyed his mother’s attention that day and there had been genuine camaraderie between them, but he was being doted on so what was not to like? Heather felt a wince of pain for Hiram. She knew that he would not receive the same level of love at all. It was so obvious as to the extent of their mother’s feelings. No wonder he felt the pain of rejection so deeply.

Heather glanced back out of the window. The grounds were empty but she shivered. It felt as if the ghosts of that tainted love played out beneath their windows, captured in time due to the emptiness of their souls. She wondered if ghosts did indeed walk these corridors at night. There were often strange noises outside this room, and she recalled one time when Hiram was away, she had peered nervously into the inky blackness of the corridor outside her room where it stretched towards the turret stairs and had wondered if someone was there. She was glad that she had not seen anything or anyone.

In the distance, she could see horses galloping back towards the castle and her heart froze in sudden fear. Was this an attack on the castle or were they all returning safely from their battles? Dust clouds filled the air and it was impossible to see how many horses were running at full speed across the open expanse of land. She waited in anguish. Once the horses made it to the moors, it would be easier to see them, she knew, and she could only pray that Hiram was safe. Finally, swallowing hard, she counted the number and with some relief, realized that it was indeed the same number who had left. She continued to watch until she saw them reach the grounds, the men all looked weary, but Hiram dismounted easily, handing his reins to the young stable boys and then disappearing, his long strides making short work of the path. She hoped he was on his way to see her, relief washing over her in waves.

She was right. In no time, he was in their room, grinning at her mischievously. “Who are you spying on?”

“Ghosts,” she told him, turning from the window and reaching up to hold her husband’s precious face in her hands. “I am so glad you have returned safe.”

He kissed her softly. “As am I my love. All is okay.”

“What ghosts did you see? There must be many of them here.”

“Not really ghosts, just a thought. I remembered seeing your mother and Connor out there one day. He was enjoying the attention she bestowed upon him. She seemed to revel in his presence. It was a tainted love. I wondered if the impression made a difference on this place. Like hatred seeping into the fabric of the walls of this castle…their love for each other, which is faulty…tainted…also seeping into the grounds, like ghosts one day to reappear.”

“I know what you mean. There is madness within them. The more I think about it, the more I believe they have both been tainted by it. If I knew more about the generations of family on my mother’s side, I wonder what I would find.”

Heather shivered. “Do you really think she is mad?”

“I don’t know if I mean insane, but her love is unhealthy, ” Hiram reassured her.

“Our child will not grow up like Connor.” Heather vowed.

“Definitely not.” Hiram nestled up to her. “How many shall we have?” He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled on her hips so that she nestled against him. “How long can I keep persuading you to want me in bed?”

“That is forever then.” She sighed contentedly. Delighted by his gentle touch, Heather gave in to the moment, enjoying their closeness, until he slid his fingers up to her breasts, trying to reach the soft skin beneath her dress.