Highland Lies (The Band of Cousins Book 4) Page 2

  While she had feared him out on the cliffs, now she was simply intrigued. Ever since her sire had died, her mother had kept to the castle, only leaving to visit the kirk or the abbey for prayer. She left Rose at home so as not to subject her to people’s natural curiosity about a girl who could neither speak nor hear. Or so she said. They had an occasional visitor, but Rose was rarely invited to join her mother. Most of her time was spent either outdoors or in her chamber.

  Her solitary existence hadn’t bothered her in the thick of her grief for her sire—years had passed without her hardly noticing—but her life had begun to seem empty to her of late. Hollow. This man had traveled the Highlands. Oh, the stories he must have!

  She hadn’t gotten a good look at him out on the cliffs, but he was also quite handsome, with sun-kissed hair and gray eyes—eyes that reached into her soul. Something told her he wasn’t a danger to her after all, that, indeed, he might be a friend.

  But only if she could find a way to communicate with him away from her mother’s watching eye.

  His skin was bronzed by the sun, and he had a strong, chiseled jaw with a scar just above his right eye, so close it was a wonder he hadn’t been blinded by whatever had damaged his skin enough to leave a deep scar.

  It didn’t distract from his attractiveness at all, instead making him a bit more appealing.

  Rose suspected she’d been granted special insight into the people around her to make amends for her impairment. When she spent time around someone, she could intuit things about them—what they were like, whether their behavior met their words. She’d been hiding around the corner so she knew this man’s name was Roddy Grant. Roddy or Rodric, she guessed, had a strong character, the appearance of a warrior, and a powerful sense of pride and honor. She only sensed such unmitigated confidence in one of every four or five people. It always made her wish to know the person better.

  She also sensed something else. Roddy Grant was a troubled man. She tipped her head, attempting to pick up more clues about him. He seemed to feel guilty, but that was all she could discern.

  This is how she entertained herself around strangers. She couldn’t communicate with them, so she spent her time observing them, hoping to find clues to their character in the way they carried themselves, spoke to others, and acted. Rose was surprised when Roddy gave her a slight bow, indicating he would be leaving, and thanked her mother for her hospitality.

  She didn’t want him to go. She didn’t want to lose sight of that sun-kissed hair or those expressive eyes. How she wished she could beg him to stay or promise to meet her for a short interlude on the cliffs or in the gardens. Now that she’d met him, she had one burning desire.

  She wished to know what Roddy Grant had done to make himself feel guilty.

  ***

  Roddy had to admit, he’d never been more surprised than when Lady MacDole had announced that her daughter was deaf and mute. He’d instantly felt sorry for the poor lass. Though he didn’t presume to know anything about the lass, her life had to be lonely. She was cut off from the rest of the world not just by her location and her small family, but also by the fact that nature had robbed her of speech and hearing, both invaluable to communication. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been that way since birth or if she’d lost her hearing and speech in some tragic accident.

  Even as he left the great hall, he knew his business there was not done. He would search for answers. He told himself it wasn’t her beauty that drove him but rather the wish to help her. After all, his own mother, Caralyn, was the Grant healer, a calling she’d learned from his aunts Jennie and Brenna Grant, two of the most renowned healers in all of Scotland. He was glad for his mother’s knowledge. He often had many questions to ask her.

  He left the isolated castle and made his way back to the clearing where he and Connor had agreed to meet when the sun was high. He was a wee bit early, but Connor stood there munching on an apple, a satchel filled with the ripe fruit now hanging from his saddle bag. His horse chomped down on his own treat.

  “Successful journey?” Connor asked in between chews.

  “Nay, certainly not.”

  “You’re quite pensive about something,” Connor noted.

  Roddy let out a deep sigh. He could hardly make sense of his own thoughts, but perhaps Connor could help him work through them. He, Connor, and Braden had been friends for as long as they’d been alive. Even better that they were cousins.

  There was only one thing he’d knowingly kept from Connor. The last son of the renowned warrior Alexander Grant, Connor loved going to battle.

  Would he comprehend Roddy’s fear of dying?

  Mayhap it was time to find out. After he told him about the oddity of Rose MacDole’s situation and the fact that her castle overlooked Loch Linnhe. “I strayed over the cliffs near the castle and saw a young lass standing near the edge.”

  Connor’s arched brows told him he’d caught his interest.

  “I followed her, but she ran. Not surprising because I’m clearly a stranger, but she was sure of foot and outran me. I had to go to the gates to gain entrance and see what she was about.” He crossed his arms and stared at the deep violet flowers not far from his feet, noticing how close they were to the color of Rose’s eyes.

  “And then?” Connor was a good listener, just like his father. Roddy wished it were a trait he shared, but he lacked patience, and more often than not, he’d begin peppering the speaker with questions partway through the telling of the tale.

  “The castle was owned by a Walter MacDole, who passed on several years ago, and is now occupied by his widow and daughter, Rose. Rose being the one I saw on the cliffs. I didn’t see many others…a guard at the gate, one serving lass, and a stable master.”

  Connor took another bite of his apple, talking with his mouth full. “Usually meeting a young lass puts a smile on a lad’s face. Why does your expression tell me otherwise? Was she homely?”

  Roddy whistled. “Far from homely. She was quite a beauty with dark hair, nearly black, and eyes nearly the color of those.” He gestured to the flowers he’d noticed.

  “And this disturbs you?” Connor now sported a sly grin.

  Roddy smiled himself, knowing how his cousin would react when he filled him in.

  He caught Connor’s gaze. “That did not disturb me. It was finding out that the lass cannot hear or speak that troubled me.”

  “Truly?” The shock on Connor’s face was exactly the reaction he’d expected. His cousin stared at the ground, working over this new information. “How would you know she was deaf if she could not tell you so?”

  “Her mother told me.”

  “So you accepted this.” Connor paused, staring into the trees before he spoke again. “Why does it bother you?”

  “I cannot explain it, but something about her situation is not right. The castle sits on the sea loch Braden told us about. Loch Linnhe describes the water quite accurately—dark and turbulent. I could see from the cliffs. That may be another reason to go back.”

  His cousin settled his hands on his hips and took two steps closer. “Because you saw something that made you believe it could be part of the Channel of Dubh?”

  The Channel of Dubh was the main network they and their cousins had been pursuing. A loosely organized group that captured lads and lassies and then sent them off, never to be seen again.

  He shrugged. “Mayhap. ’Twould take a big boat to handle those treacherous waters.” If he wished to share his problem with Connor, the time had come. Roddy ran his hand through his hair and took a deep sigh as if that extra breath could force the words from his lips. “There is something else I wished to ask your opinion about. I’ve had nightmares of late.”

  Connor quirked his brow at his cousin. “Go on.”

  “I dream I’m submerged in water and am fighting to get to the surface, fighting for air.” He began to pace, hoping to get the courage to say even more. “I…I’ve apparently developed this unusual fear of dying. Ever
since your sire…”

  Connor held his hand up. “Say no more. I understand. I went through something similar myself, but ’twas short-lived. When we rode into battle against Buchan, I was certain I’d be struck down, just like my sire. Before the battle, I kept dreaming I was the one lying wounded on the field before Grant Castle.”

  “You did?” He couldn’t have been more surprised to hear those words from the son of Alex Grant.

  “Aye, but as soon as I actually swung my sword again, the fear disappeared.”

  Roddy apparently did a poor job of hiding his disappointment because Connor quickly added, “The same hasn’t happened for you, I’m guessing.”

  Roddy rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes. Why couldn’t he just erase the fears from his mind? “Nay. My fear of dying in battle hasn’t changed, and my nightmares have only gotten worse. When I looked across that dark water, the churning depths mesmerized me.”

  “Is that the kind of water you see when you wake up after a nightmare?”

  Roddy thought for a moment before he answered, considering the sights and sounds he remembered from his night terrors. “Nay, my sense is the water is calm. ’Tis nothing like Loch Linnhe, yet I’m drawn to return to the castle, the water. Something is pulling me back.”

  Connor moved over to his horse, patting his flank. “I would never question your instincts. I think we should return.”

  “To see if I recognize anything from my dream?”

  “Nay, I think we should sneak down to the water to look for a landing for boats. ’Tis why we are here, aye? From your description, it could be the perfect place for those black-hearted wretches to load their captives. The woman and the young lass up on the cliff may have no idea what transpires beneath their home. We’d be remiss if we didn’t explore more, search out anything unusual.” Then he winked at Roddy. “And if we happen to see the young lass, all the better. She could be what’s pulling you back, not the water. I would love to meet her, see what I make of her.”

  Roddy grinned. He had hoped that Connor would suggest returning. “Makes perfect sense to me. I doubt we’ll get inside the castle again, but there’s a sea cave below, one she disappeared into when I was following her. If the sun drops, it could light up the area around the cave for us.” He moved over to his horse to mount up. “Did you find anything of interest at the castle where you stopped?”

  “Nay, there is naught to concern us there. I suspect fate brought us to MacDole Castle—and a beautiful lass. I hope we see her.”

  ***

  Roddy and Connor headed back toward Loch Linnhe, and they opted to go straight to the front gate to start their search. Dusk was upon them, so Roddy feared they’d be turned away, but they were allowed in.

  A man greeted them at the door to the hall. “Were you not here earlier today, lad?”

  “Aye, my name is Roddy Grant, and this is my cousin, Connor Grant. I did not meet you earlier.”

  The man’s gaze focused on him, narrowing just a touch. “Nay, you did not. I am Harold Caswell, steward of MacDole Castle. May I be of assistance?”

  “We’d like to speak with Lady MacDole and her daughter Rose,” Roddy said. “We have some questions for them.”

  Caswell glanced off to the side before returning his gaze with his answer. “The ladies have retired for the evening. If you have a question, you may ask me. I have permission to speak for Lady MacDole. You are aware that her daughter is unable to answer you, if I recall.”

  “Aye,” Roddy glanced at Connor before responding. “We are seeking information about any shipments made from here. Have you ever witnessed any unusual occurrences on the sea loch? Mayhap a ship docking nearby in the night? A small boat carrying too many people? Any unusual noises at night?”

  Harold shook his head vehemently. “I’ve never heard any ships at night. It is quite preposterous for you to suggest such activities could take place near our land without us knowing. My answer is nay, so you may take your leave. You’ll find nothing of that sort here.”

  Connor said, “Many thanks to you. We’ll take ourselves away.”

  The seneschal nodded and spun on his heel before heading back into the castle.

  As soon as the man was far enough away, Connor said, “I agree with your instincts. Something is not right here.”

  They retrieved their horses from the stable and left through the front gate so as not to arouse any suspicion. As soon as they were out of view, Roddy said, “I’m going back to the cliffs. I have to see if Rose came back.”

  “I’ll follow,” Connor said. “If you find her and wish to speak with her, I’ll stand guard for you. See if you can learn anything, though I don’t know how since she cannot hear or speak.”

  “No need to guard me. Do your own investigation of the area. I’ll find you later.”

  Connor nodded. “Suits me. I’ll find my way down to the water. I’d like to see for myself if there are any docks or moorings. Join me when you’ve finished whatever ’tis you’re searching for at this hour.” He chuckled and patted Roddy on the back before he took off down the path and disappeared from sight.

  He’d join Connor when he could because he agreed there could be something afoot at the sea loch, but first he had more pressing issues.

  He had to see Rose. If he saw her one more time, his interest would be assuaged. He was certain of it.

  Chapter Three

  Rose sat on her favorite rocky ledge on the lower cliff overlooking the sea. She loved to listen to the rolling waves when the weather was rough. The sound of the crests as they crashed against the large rocks at the coastline reminded her of the time she’d spent here with her sire, watching as the white caps broke apart into a thousand bubbles and the seagulls and pelicans soaring overhead dived for their quarry. Her favorite bird was the pelican. It had the amazing ability to fly nearly vertically after its prey. It would then surface quickly with a deep swallow, telling her its dinner had begun. Her sire had taught her all about their feathered friends, his favorite being the owl.

  But as much as she enjoyed watching the birds and soaking in the natural beauty of the sea and its cliffs, her mind was distracted by the memory of a pair of gray eyes. Could Roddy Grant help her? Though she loved her home, she was tired of being lonely. She’d thought of running away, but she had no idea where she could go.

  Fear of her mother’s retaliation also kept her home. She was isolated, a prisoner of sorts, due to both her disability and her ignorance of the world around her.

  There had to be more to life than dreaming on a cliffside outcropping.

  How she wished her mother had allowed her the opportunity to learn to read. Her sire had brought books home from the abbey on occasion. He’d shown her letters and words, ensuring she could recognize numbers and all the letters of the alphabet, but her mother had put a stop to the lessons. She’d declared the tasks too stressful for Rose, but Rose knew the real reason.

  Her mother wished to have complete control over her daughter and everything that transpired in the castle. It had been a constant tone of discord between her parents.

  Now, Rose was marooned in a world where she couldn’t communicate with others, a world of silence and frustration.

  Now that her father was gone, her mother had seen to it that she had no contact with the outside world.

  She heard a rock fall over the ledge and caught something out of the corner of her eye. Jumping to her feet, she saw someone was making his way toward her across the cliffs.

  Roddy Grant.

  This time she took a tentative step toward him instead of running away. It was time to stop running away. As soon as they met up, she cautiously smiled.

  “Can you read my lips?” Roddy asked.

  She didn’t answer, instead reaching for him. It felt important for him to know the truth. If he did, mayhap he could help her. Daring to do something she’d never done before, she grabbed his hand, pulling him closer, and began motioning to him. She tugged on her ear, n
odded, then held her finger to her lips as if to quiet him.

  “I guess that’s my answer. How I wish you could, Rose. There’s something odd about your life, your mother, your steward, something I wish to examine. I could use your help.”

  Her heart gave a lurch, a feeling akin to hope. He hadn’t understood her silent message, but he was clearly interested in her well-being.

  “I’d hoped you could tell me something.” He started to turn away, but she grabbed his arm.

  She wouldn’t lose this chance. Holding his hand steady, she tugged her ear again, nodding, pleading with him to understand her.

  “I don’t understand. If you cannot hear, why are you tugging on your ear?”

  Rose shook her head and pointed to his mouth, then her ear, and nodded again. She brought her index finger from her ear and then pointed to his face, nodding.

  “What? You could hear once?”

  She shook her head with such emphasis that the truth finally dawned on him. She could see it in his gaze.

  He cupped her cheek and whispered, “You can hear me?”

  She nodded, a broad smile breaking out across her face. She pointed to her mouth and shook her head.

  “You can hear, but you cannot speak?”

  She nodded again, filled with the joy of being understood, and couldn’t help but give him a brief hug before stepping back.

  “Why did your mother lie?”

  Rose thought hard about some of the things her sire had taught her, then traced the letter S on her chest, mouthing the word slowly to him.

  “It’s a secret? But why?”

  Then she pointed to the castle and formed the word “mother” with her lips.

  “Your mother wishes it to be a secret?”

  When she nodded quickly, he looked befuddled and whispered, “Truly? Why would she do such a thing to you?”

  Rose dipped her head and closed her eyes, her embarrassment at her own mother’s treatment of her suddenly too much. Memories of her accident flitted through her mind like fireflies, but she chose to ignore them, not wishing to recall anything about it—it was simply too painful. She could feel the blush rise to her cheeks. Maybe she should walk away. A tear formed on her lash, so she turned away, swiping it from her face.