Page 20 of Love with a Scottish Outlaw
She gasped. “Imprisoned for speaking the truth?”
“To the wrong people. They wanted me silenced before word could become widespread. They wanted their gold. When I escaped, the sheriff and the magistrates had me outlawed and punished my clan.” He looked at his people, many of whom were trying to make the children feel at ease. His voice hoarse, he said, “My people supported what I was trying to do; some of them followed me. And I led them into a hard life, and caused their families to suffer. Only recently I was almost captured again, which could have harmed them even more. We have to be so very wary of the outside world.”
She heard the self-recrimination he couldn’t hide, and she wanted to comfort him. “No wonder you live apart from the rest of your clan. But they obviously believe as you do that children should be protected.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “And Carlyle children are suffering for it, their parents shunned because of my outlawed status, their cattle selling at prices too low if they sell at all.”
“I know that this is terrible, but surely it’s better than losing their children to such evil men.”
He exhaled a deep sigh. “Aye.”
“Why would the sheriff go along with this? He’s a man who represents the law.”
“Aye, but he’s also a man who knew poverty himself, who raised himself up by whatever means he could so he’d not know deprivation again. Every coin he accumulates keeps him further away from that poverty he can’t forget, that I swear he must see when he looks over his shoulder, because he’s running away from it fast enough. He has several fine horses and a flat in an elegant townhouse, with furniture gilt enough to entertain an earl.” And then he broke off.
Catherine glanced at the little boy she’d tried to help. He sat with his head bowed, away from the other children. He didn’t speak to them, or show any excitement about being rescued. Now that the other four had their bellies filled, she could hear the torrent of questions being thrown at Ivor and Maeve. But the little boy acted like it didn’t concern him. He pushed away Janet, who tried to scrub his filthy face. Catherine wanted to gather him into her arms and rock him as if she could help him feel safe from the world.
“You have done something brave and important, Laird Carlyle,” she said softly. “And your clan’s willingness to support you, regardless of the hardship, speaks to their kindness and fortitude. But now that you’ve rescued these children, what happens next?”
She wondered if he’d even answer, if he thought her too bold. But that intimate spell around them held. Though most of the clan was only yards away, the two of them stood close together, speaking softly, absorbed as if in their own world.
“Gathering evidence to bring to a higher court is proving difficult. The children’s tales hold no sway with the magistrates, who are sharing the spoils with the sheriff. We have yet to find something in writing as evidence of their villainy; they are far too clever for that. But we keep looking. Every time we rescue a child, those villains who aren’t killed in the attack, we return with broken bones or other injuries, removing them from this foul duty. Eventually they’ll have to run out of men willing to kidnap children, forcing the sheriff to do his own work, or lose the money he’s promised to a nobleman too smart to dirty his hands.”
Catherine frowned, wondering at how his tone had changed when he discussed this nobleman.
“Until then, we return the children to their families, who are now on guard. Four of these newest children have families to return to. We’ve begun to keep track of how many children are in the area, so that we have the numbers to use against the sheriff when he’s caught. I know we cannot solve the problem across all of Scotland, but we damn well can do something about our corner of it. But the boy ye spoke with, and others like him, can’t be easily kept track of. On the journey here, he admitted he has no one, and lived on the streets. His Christian name is Finn, but he might not even have a surname.”
“What will happen to him?” she asked nervously.
“We hope to find him a family. Highlanders are a generous people, but times are difficult, and the famine too recent. We will be patient.”
“Until then he stays here?”
Laird Carlyle eyed her impassively, and when she would have gotten her feathers ruffled, she reminded herself of the good he was doing, even at risk to himself and his clan. She knew she was asking too many questions, but she couldn’t help herself. She wasn’t much different than Finn, both needing a place to stay, desperate to find a home.
“Aye, he’ll stay,” Laird Carlyle said.
She smiled at him with relief. “Excellent.”
For a long moment, he studied her face, as if he’d never seen her happy before. Now that she knew the secret he was protecting—one of the secrets anyway—she couldn’t help but feel kinder toward him.
“’Twould seem I am in your good graces again, mistress,” he murmured.
Without a second thought, she put a comforting hand on his arm. She noticed the way his muscular body seemed to take up too much room, take up all the air, leaving her light-headed. As he tensed beneath her hand, she suddenly realized that people were watching them, that they stood too close, talked too intimately—and now she’d touched him, as if flirting with him.
Goodness, was she actually blushing?
She stepped back so quickly that she stumbled. When he reached out, she put up a hand to stop him from touching her again.
“I’ll return to help Maeve.” Turning away, Catherine added over her shoulder, “My thanks for the explanation, Laird Carlyle. I appreciate the trust.”
“See that I don’t regret it.”
She rolled her eyes and said with mild exasperation, “Must you ruin every honest discussion between us?”
Well, she assumed it was honest. Did she really know?
He stared at her with those black, mysterious eyes, and for just a moment they lingered on her lips, before he abruptly walked away.
