Highland Inheritance (Highlands Ever After Book 2) Read online

  Yes, this was possible, and something which Iona wished she had considered before recklessly stepping outside. She opened her mouth, prepared to announce they would return, but a moment later noticed a great deal of disturbed ground slightly ahead of where they stood.

  She took the candle in her free hand, holding it before herself. “It appears someone has been digging,” she murmured, looking around. “See the mound of earth? And the hole beside it.”

  “What does it mean?” Janet whispered.

  “Would that I knew,” Iona sighed. Truly, this was such a strange place, with its strange people and even stranger customs. It never occurred to her prior to leaving Lindisfarne that her Scottish blood might not be enough to help her manage life in this new land.

  Though she could hardly imagine a custom involving strangers digging holes in another’s land. That seemed beyond the realm of possibility.

  She looked about herself once more, staring into the moonlit darkness. “Whoever it was, they have left us. It is just as well, I imagine.” She attempted to keep her voice light, as if this had been nothing more than a grand adventure which was now coming to an end.

  Janet was not so easily convinced. “We ought to alert someone,” she whispered as they hurried back to the house. Was someone waiting inside? There was nothing to be done but find out, for they could not risk catching their death spending the night in the woods.

  “There is no need for such fear,” Iona assured her, even as her heart raced and cold sweat traced a line down the back of her neck. “It could be that you simply dreamed of a man outside your window. Truly!” she insisted when her new friend scoffed. “Have you never dreamed so vividly that you are certain your dream was in fact real? I experience such dreams regularly.”

  “T’was no dream.” Janet took pains to test the latch once they’d entered through the kitchen again. Iona listened hard for any sounds of an intruder coming from the upper floor, but after what felt like an eternity imagined they were safe.

  It was then that she released a long sigh, breathing heavily. “All is well,” she managed, laughing softly. “Though I am afraid to have ruined my slippers.”

  Janet scowled, her dark eyes flashing fire in the light of the candle. “Tis no laughing matter, and ye know it well,” she accused, going so far as to shake a finger in Iona’s face as if scolding a child.

  Iona glowered at this, shaking her own finger in response. “I do not much like being treated as a bairn,” she reminded Janet. “If we are to live beneath the same roof, you ought to know this.”

  “Does it not frighten ye? Knowing someone—”

  “I know nothing of the sort,” she insisted. Was her jaw jutting out, the way it did whenever she was feeling her most stubborn? She imagined so. “I’ll grant you, I think it strange to find the ground disturbed, but it means nothing. It could be the ground had already been disturbed, and neither of us noticed before now. It is the logical explanation.”

  “The logical explanation, as ye call it, is that a man dug the ground in search of something,” Janet retorted. “Why, I could not say. But ye canna deny that which is plain to see.”

  Iona realized then that her legs were shaking, like as not the result of recovering from the strain Janet’s fears had put her under. Now that the threat had passed, her body was weak with relief. “What good would it do to dig on this land?” she wondered aloud. “There is nothing here for anyone to harvest or unearth. Certainly, if there were, I would know.”

  “Perhaps. And perhaps nay,” Janet reasoned. She dipped a ladle into a bucket of water and drank deeply before doing the same for Iona, who accepted the water gladly. “Perhaps your uncle left something behind, something he might have confided to a neighboring farmer.”

  “Have you ever heard of such a confidence?”

  “Nay,” Janet admitted. “But ‘tis possible, is it not?”

  Iona knew she ought not scoff at this, but there was no helping it. “My uncle, from what I learned of him from my father, was hardly the type to confide in anyone. If he were to have buried anything on the land, he would have told no one.”

  “It could be, then, that someone heard gossip and took it as truth.” Janet grunted, shaking her head as she peered through the window into the darkness beyond. “Ye dinna ken how people talk in the village, having lived as ye did before now. Tales grow beyond all measure once they have been passed from one to another enough times.”

  “I suppose that is possible,” Iona shrugged. Truly, she was far too tired to consider this with any amount of clear-headedness. “Whoever he was, he must have discovered he’d started on a fool’s errand, I imagine. Which is why he left.”

  “Who is to say he shall not return?” When Iona scoffed at this, it incensed Janet to the point where she threw her arms into the air, her cry of frustration echoing in the otherwise quiet room. “Are ye that determined to be right? So determined ye would place yourself in danger?”

  “I have no wish to place myself in danger.”

  “One need not wish for danger to invite it upon herself,” Janet pointed out. “We must make a report of this to the sheriff.”

  “Absolutely not.” She said this without thinking, merely reacting to the notion. A notion which filled her with distaste. “We shall endure. I have always endured, and I do not intend to stop now. I will not go to that man and speak of this.”

  “Why ever not? Why, when we might need his help?”

  “He was insulting when last we met,” Iona explained. “I found him insufferable, if you must know. We did not get on well, and I would rather avoid his acquaintance now.” The woman deserved no such explanation, truly, yet Iona could not stop herself once she’d begun.

  Janet sighed, clicking her tongue. “I could not imagine your hatred running so deep.”

  “I hate him not,” Iona corrected. “It is merely that I do not wish to involve him if it can be helped.”

  “When would ye prefer to go to him, then?” Janet asked, folding her arms and jutting her chin just as Iona had. “Perhaps after another stranger pays a call? Would that suit ye better?”

  “Please…”

  Janet would not be swayed. She turned her back on Iona, in fact, muttering under her breath before raising her voice to be heard. “Pride goeth before the fall,” was her cryptic response. “Perhaps t’would do ye well to remember that.” There was no opportunity for Iona to offer a reply before the woman scurried up to her chambers, closing the door with a great deal of force.

  Thus far, they’d existed in perfect harmony together. They were of the same mind on great many things, which Iona understood all too well was uncommon for someone so determined to live as she pleased. She had never met a woman of Janet’s age—or any woman, truly—who understood her so perfectly. Who had agreed that it was best not to settle for the first man who came along simply because he existed. Who refused to bend beneath the will of another.

  Yes. They’d done quite a lot of talking over these last several days. There was no one else to talk to.

  This was the first time they’d had a falling out. Iona knew not how to manage this, how to make peace with the only friend she knew.

  Rather than attempting to sleep after having been so thoroughly disturbed, she sat at the table until the sunrise.

  Waiting. Watching. Listening.

  7

  Colin was already in a terrible temper when a woman clutched his arm as he left the jail.

  It was full nearly to capacity, though that would no longer be a problem once the few men about to be released made their leave. He’d been as good as his word, jailing any and all who refused to follow the law. No matter how they cursed him or what they accused him of, he did what he knew to be right.

  The most Colin had ever need do was hold a man for a day or two, normally over a public fight when one or both men were in their cups. Unfortunately, the truly criminal were those who did not make their homes there nor anywhere in particular. The ones who traveled
under the cover of darkness, seeking to rob decent people of that which they worked hard to earn. He sought to capture these men who managed to elude him.

  There was less chance of him capturing them than ever, now that all of his attention had been diverted to maintaining order in light of the Act of Proscription. The very last thing he felt equipped to manage after a long, trying day was a tearful woman.

  There was no escaping her, her fingers like claws which hooked themselves into his arm. “I beg ye, I must have a word with ye. Please, ‘tis of terrible importance.”

  It was the tremble in her voice which drew his full attention. He looked upon her squarely for the first time, rather than attempting to brush her off as nothing more than a nuisance. When he did get a full look at her, he was surprised—though truly, there was no reason to be.

  “Janet McDade? What matter do ye seek to discuss? Is there trouble at the—"

  Rather than answer straightaway, the woman looked about them, and he understood her suspicion for what it was. “We canna speak in the open. I must speak to ye privately.”

  Rather than maintain the pretense of being unaware, he led her back into his chamber and closed the door in the face of a curious guard. No doubt rumors would soon make their way about the village—rarely if ever did Colin seek privacy with a woman. Not in any official matter at least.

  Though Janet was old enough to be his mam.

  “Thank ye for seeing me,” the woman whispered, trembling. “Iona is unaware of my coming to ye, and she canna be made aware. She would…” Her eyes left him, settling somewhere over his shoulder. “She would not approve.”

  Colin would wager as much. Though his teeth were gritted in frustration, he managed what he hoped was a polite tone as he showed the trembling woman to a chair. “Now, ye might explain what has upset ye so. Why is it ye have come?”

  Rather than answer straight away, she rubbed her eyes as though fatigued. He noticed then the circles beneath those eyes, the way they seem to have sunk into her already thin face. “Tis merely that I have never known such fear, or such uncertainty. The lass is certain there is nothing for us to fear, but I am afraid she is terribly wrong. I fear ‘tis her pride speaking for her. Normally, she is possessed of great reason and sense. That is, I’ve imagined as much over our short acquaintance. She strikes me as having sense, though this has changed my thoughts on her considerably.” She looked down at her hands, wringing them together.

  “Ye ought to start from the beginning,” he advised, though he could imagine without being told. So what he’d predicted had come to pass, had it? Things were not going well for the willful, stubborn lass. Yet she insisted upon having her way, so much so that her companion resorted to sneaking away to beg for assistance.

  He would’ve thrown that prideful lass over his knee and spanked her until his hand went numb were she before him just then.

  The woman nodded. “Ye have been acquainted with Iona, I imagined. Hence your asking if I would care for her while she awaits her companion.”

  “Aye, I’ve made her acquaintance before. I accompanied her to the house when she arrived in the village.”

  “Aye, she has spoken of ye. Well, that is, she has not spoken well of ye.” Her pale cheeks colored when she said it, and Colin moved a hand over his mouth to conceal a snicker. He could very well imagine what Iona had spoken of their short time together. Like as not she’d described him unfavorably—at the very least.

  Janet cleared her throat. “As I say, I dinna know what to make of her refusal to take seriously what we discovered in the night.”

  Now, he would not have dismissed this woman for anything in the world. Colin leaned forward, barely keeping himself from taking her by the arms and shaking her, demanding she be more forthcoming. “What did ye discover?”

  She lifted her shoulders, shaking her head. “The only thing I know for certain is that I woke to the sound of a man walking outside my window. I know this. I will not be convinced otherwise. That is what I heard.”

  Colin swallowed hard, his mouth having suddenly gone dry. “Did ye see this man?”

  Again she shook her head, sighing. “I did not. All was darkness, ye ken, and I had not yet lit the candle. Though I knew it was a man from his heavy footsteps.”

  “Naturally,” he allowed, though his frustration grew. He struggled to conceal it from the woman before him, wishing not to frighten her in any way. “What then?”

  There was no mistaking the grudging pride in the woman’s voice. “Iona fetched a knife from the kitchen, and the pair of us ventured out.”

  “Ye did no such thing!” he nearly shouted. Were they both determined to destroy themselves? It was beginning to appear that way, at least from where he sat. “Why would ye take such a chance?”

  “There is little I can do to convince the lass of good sense once she has determined her course of action,” Janet shrugged. “There was nothing to be done but follow behind in hope of providing assistance if assistance was required.”

  He was uncertain whether he wished to admire Iona’s bravery or continue to admonish Janet for her foolishness in allowing such madness to go on. It was a wonder they were both still alive. “Never do that again,” he warned, and now he did not endeavor to conceal his anger. “Ye must promise me. Dinna ever venture out into the woods at night again, not for any reason. Swear it.”

  For a moment, Janet’s mouth hung open in surprise, but that did not last long. She drew herself up to her full height, fixing him with an icy stare. “Perhaps ye forget to whom ye speak, Colin Ramsey. I have made my home on this land since the day I was born. I know all too well what lurks in the woods, in the dark. Which was why I could not allow the lass to venture out alone. As I could no more tie her to a chair, there was little to be done but to keep close watch on her.”

  Rarely did he wish he kept wine or ale in his chamber, but a drink or perhaps two might have done him good just then. “Ye might as well know it now. I warned your mistress of the dangers surrounding her land. The woods are rife with the worst sorts of criminals, men who would think nothing of cutting a woman’s throat simply to steal something of little value. They will not be turned away. Especially when their target is someone they consider helpless.”

  There was no mistaking the pride which came over her then, causing her to sit up a bit straighter. “I can assure ye, neither Iona nor myself could be considered helpless, Sheriff.”

  “That that may verra well be, but would a stranger be aware of that? That will not stop them. If they are in possession of a weapon, they will be even further emboldened. I warned her, and she refused to listen.”

  “I ken now why she was determined not to speak with ye,” Janet murmured with a smirk. “I ought to have known. She does not take well to any who tell her what to do or how a thing is to be done.”

  “I had imagined as much,” he growled, recalling her obstinacy during their ride. “She is a woman possessed of deep determination.”

  “I fear she will pay dearly for it now,” Janet confessed, fear taking the place of pride once again. “I know not what to do. I merely know that I slept not another moment last night, for fear of an intruder stalking outside my window. There has been digging nearby. We discovered it last night.”

  The breath caught in his throat. She might have mentioned this earlier. “Digging? Where? How much had been done?”

  “Merely a few minutes’ walk from the house. I know not how much they’d dug, merely that it had been done. Perhaps the man I heard was the digger, perhaps not. The mud made it difficult to tell in which direction the footprints continued.”

  “Have ye ever heard intruders before?”

  “Tis only been a week, ye recall,” she explained with a shrug. “This is the first I’ve heard of it. I would imagine Iona confiding in me if she heard anything of the sort before my arrival, but now? I canna be so certain. She is determined to have her way in this.”

  He kept his thoughts to himself, seething at the ha
rdheadedness of the woman in question. It was clear now he could not leave her alone, though he could not yet imagine a solution to this problem. What was he to do? Make camp outside her home? Sit up through the night, watching for intruders?

  The tears which had threatened to fall throughout their conversation now spilled over to Janet’s wrinkled cheeks. “I beg ye, help us. I know not what to do. I am so frightened. I canna spend the rest of my days going without sleep. Even in daylight, I found myself jumping at the slightest noise this morning.”

  He patted her hands, murmuring in sympathy. The poor woman had gone through one trial after another. This was partly his doing, as he’d asked her to stay with Iona until Tyra Fletcher arrived. He ought to do something to set things right, he supposed. “What would ye have me do? How can I be of assistance to ye?”

  “Please, if ye would try to speak to her once again.”

  There was no helping the grimace which resulted from this request. “I’m not at all certain your mistress will wish to speak to me, on this or any matter,” he confessed. “She is not terribly fond of me, as we only just discussed.”

  “Perhaps now, after what we found last night, she will be more reasonable. She endeavors to conceal her true feelings, but I sensed today her worry. She might be more willing to listen and pay heed.”

  He doubted it, but he would not say as much to the troubled woman before him. “I suppose I might pay a call this evening, if ye like.” She need not know he’d planned to ride past regardless.

  For the first time, light sparked to life in her eyes. “Ye would? I canna thank ye enough. What a blessing. I prayed most fervently ye would be agreeable, ye canna know what this means.”

  Again, he patted her hands. “Now, now. Let us not rejoice as yet. I must bring Iona around to our way of thinking, which will be no small feat.”

  “Indeed, that we might try. She might be reasonable. So long as I am not alone, that is enough to give me hope.” She rose, drawing a knitted shawl more tightly about herself. “Please, dinna allow her to know we’ve spoken. She would never—"