To Tame A Highland Warrior
Page 89

She was probably being punished for planning to be deceitful. That was hardly fair, she thought crossly. She’d never been deceitful in her life—surely she was entitled to one time, especially since it was for a such good cause. They had to stop at Tuluth. She needed answers that she suspected could be found only by returning to Grimm’s roots.
“Hush, lass, it’s all right. What can I do? What do you need?” It couldn’t be poison, Grimm thought frantically. He’d prepared the food they’d eaten last night himself, of venison he’d tracked and cured while up in the Highlands. Then what was it? he wondered, deluged by a flood of emotions: helplessness, fear, realization that this woman in his arms meant everything to him and that he would take whatever sickness she had and bear it himself, if he could.
She convulsed again in his arms, and he held her trembling body.
It was some time before she stopped heaving. When she finally calmed, he wrapped her in a warm blanket and heated some water over the fire. She lay absolutely still while he washed her face. He was transfixed by her beauty; despite her illness Jillian certainly did seem radiant, her skin a translucent ivory, her lips deep pink, her cheeks flushed with rose.
“Are you feeling better, lass?”
She took a deep breath and nodded. “I think so. But I’m not certain I can ride very far today. Is there a place we might stop between here and Dalkeith?” she asked plaintively.
“Perhaps we shouldn’t go at all,” he hedged, but they had to move on, and he knew it. Lingering here another day was the most dangerous thing he could do. If the McKane were following, one more day might well cost them their lives. He closed his eyes and pondered the dilemma. What if they started off again and she became sicker? Where could he take her? Where they could they hide away until she was well enough to travel?
Of course, he thought sardonically.
Tuluth.
CHAPTER 27
AS THEY NEARED THE VILLAGE OF HIS BIRTH, GRIMM lapsed into a protracted silence.
They’d ridden at an easy gait through the day, and Jillian had rapidly recovered her customary vigor. Despite her improved health, she forced herself to continue the charade. They were too close to Tuluth for her to waffle in indecision.
They had to go to Tuluth. It was necessary, whether she condoned her methods or not. She suffered no delusions that Grimm would return voluntarily. If he had his way he’d forget the village ever existed. While she accepted the fact that Grimm couldn’t bring himself to talk about his past, she had a suspicion that returning to Tuluth might be more necessary for him than it was for her. It was possible he needed to confront his memories in order to lay them to rest.
For her part, she needed to examine the evidence with her own eyes and hands, speak with his “batty” da, and fish for information. In the rubble and debris of the destroyed castle she might find clues to help her understand the man she loved.
Jillian glanced down at his hand, so big it nearly cupped both of hers, while he guided Occam with the other one. What could he possibly think was wrong with him? He was noble and honest, with the exception of speaking about his past. He was strong, fearless, and one of the best warriors she’d ever seen. The man was virtually invincible. Why, he put the legends of those mythical beasts, the Berserkers, to shame.
Jillian smiled, thinking men like Grimm were where such legends were born. Why, he even had the legendary fierce blue eyes. If such beings truly existed, he might have been one of those mighty warriors, she thought dreamily. She hadn’t been surprised to learn he was the son of a chieftain; nobility was evident in every line of his magnificent face. She released a sigh of pleasure and leaned back into his chest.
“We’re nearly there, lass,” he said comfortingly, misinterpreting the sigh.
“Will we be going to the castle?” she asked weakly.
“No. There are some caves where we can take shelter on a cliff called Wotan’s Cleft. I played there when I was a boy. I know them well.”
“Wouldn’t the castle be warmer? I’m so cold, Grimm.” She shivered in what she hoped was a convincing manner.
“If my memory serves me, Maldebann is a shambles.” He tucked the plaid more securely about her shoulders and cradled her in the heat from his body. “I’m not certain any of the walls are standing. Besides, if my da is still around anywhere he probably haunts those crumbling halls.”
“Well, how about the village? Surely some of your people remained?” She refused to succeed in her bid to reach Tuluth but be denied contact with people who might know something about her Highland warrior.