Page 22 of Highlander’s Lesser Evil

And sit with the man who had that kind of control over her? “I think ye are right. I need to sleep.”

Afraid to look at him again, she turned and hurried to her bed.

And when he didn’t return to her side that night, she wept.

9

She was still sleeping when Theo checked in on her before dawn. Careful not to wake her, he stood over her and looked down at the dark hair fanned over the pillow. Several hours ago, that pillow was wet with her tears.

He’d only wanted to give her pleasure, but somehow, he’d caused her pain.

Married for less than two days, and he already felt like he was becoming his father.

“I am sorry, lass,” he whispered. He started to undress and climb into bed with her to see the dawn with her in his arms, but there was a loud knock at the door.

Annoyed, he turned and went to wring the interloper’s neck, but Thomas was on the other side when he opened the door. “My apologies for the early hour, but there is a MacSeaver at the border.”

“Fletcher,” Theo hissed. He’d been so certain that the MacSeaver’s letter had been a fake. “She is wed. To me. He cannae have her.”

Thomas blinked in confusion. “Oh, Laird, no. ‘Tis not Fletcher. ‘Tis a lass. Jillian.”

The widowed wife of Fletcher’s son? What was she doing here? “Where is Graeme?”

“Camping along the river. Should I get him?”

“Nay. She may be seeking sanctuary, in which case she wilnae be happy to know that another MacSeaver is here. Escort her here, and I will hear her out, but I wish for my wife to sleep a little longer.”

“We will be here within two hours,” Thomas said with a bow of his head. “Apologies if I woke the mistress.”

Knowing he wasn’t going to get any sleep, Theo put on some oatmeal in the pot for when Gemma woke up. She may not want to see him, but she would still need to eat before sitting at her looms all day.

Straightening, he looked at them. He had no idea what she was creating, but they were the boldest of greens and blues. She had a talent for dyes. He had no doubt that she was creating something beautiful.

An hour later, Theo was outside the cottage when four men rode up with a familiar lass on a fifth horse. Holding up his hand, he halted them before they got too close and woke up Gemma.

“Lady Jillian,” he said as he approached to help her off her horse, “tis awfully early for ye to be crossing MacDougal borders.”

“I would have gotten here yesterday evening, but my trip was delayed some.” There was a darkening bruise around her red-rimmed eyes.

“Bandits?” he asked tightly. If there were thieves on Hamilton lands, Hamish would take care of it.

“No, but that’s neither here nor there.” Shying away from him, she immediately averted her gaze. After a moment, she sank to her knees. “Laird MacDougal, I wish to seek sanctuary here. To renounce my clan. I will swear fealty to ye.”

He wanted to believe her, but he knew absolutely nothing about her. No one did. The MacSeaver heir had married her out of nowhere, and Fletcher had been enraged because he’d wanted his son to marry for political alliance.

The son had died a scant month later, leaving the pretty lass a widow. No one had laid eyes on her until Fletcher had married Beth, and then Beth went everywhere with Jillian.

It was Beth’s treachery now that gave Theo pause. Fletcher may not have remembered Gemma, but he did remember that Loch Moran used to belong to him.

Sometimes women made the best spies.

“Ye must tell me why.”

“I was never a MacSeaver.” The lass still couldn’t meet his gaze. “Since Beth’s death, my father-in-law has not been himself. He usually protects me, and I fear that is no longer the case. Please.”

“Jillian, I wish to help ye, and if ye truly want sanctuary, then perhaps I can ask my brother to take ye.”

“A Hamilton? After Beth tried to kill both the laird and the mistress?” Jillian paled. “I doonae think that is the place for me.”