Page 44 of How to Heal a Highland Heart
“’Tis her husband,” Mari went on. “He beats Jane.”
“He has a horrid temper,” Ada supplied.
“Jane did nae appear in the kitchens today,” Mari said, and she and Ada exchanged a long look. “Lady Blackswell wished to help. She felt the wish keenly, too, given her and Jane’s shared past.”
“Shared past?” he asked, confused.
The women exchanged another look, this one distinctly uneasy.
“Get on with the telling now,” he commanded, not sorry in the least for how cold he sounded. Patience could be in danger.
“Well, Lady Blackswell was beaten—”
It was spoken as if he should have known. Of course, heshouldif he and Patience were not practically strangers. If they’d not been forced to wed. If he’d not decided to keep her at arm’s length. He would never forgive himself if she was injured—or worse.
The thought lodged a knot in his throat. “By Kincaide?” White-hot rage, seared him from the inside and broke him out in an instant sweat.
“Nay, Laird. By her first husband. Laird Kincaide hurt her in other ways, to which I fear left scars as painful as any fist.”
“I kinnae believe this,” he muttered, fiercely angry with himself that these women had only spoken with his wife today and knew more about her than he did. He was a stubborn clot-heid.
“’Tis true!” Mari insisted, clearly incensed on Patience’s behalf. “I’d be able to tell if she was lying, and—”
“I did nae mean I dunnae believe what she told ye,” he said, to which both women looked relieved. He turned toward the dais, waved a hand until he got William’s attention, then motioned his friend to come to him.
William was there in a breath, looking at Brodee expectantly.
“We’re going hunting.”
William frowned. “For what?”
“A woman beater,” Brodee growled, “and my wife.”
The going was slow from the castle to the woods with night having descended. And Brodee’s worry grew every moment that passed. As they approached the cottage, the first thing he noted was the absence of any voices. Only the sounds of the forest frogs and owls filled the night. The cottage was dark, and the door was open.
Something was wrong.
He withdrew his sword, and beside him, William did the same. They crept forward together, their motions in sync, their responsiveness to each other heightened as only two people who had performed dangerous approaches together countless times would move.
Brodee went in first, much to William’s obvious irritation, but the man had to obey, given he was currently under Brodee’s command. A moan of pain, a man’s, whispered across his awareness, and he located the sound coming from a corner.
He cut across the room, shoving turned over furniture out of his way and kneeled, seeing the outline of Cul, feeling something warm and sticky on Cul’s chest. “Cul,” Brodee said, not whispering. The man was here alone. Brodee knew it as certainly as he knew the seasons. “What happened?”
As he asked the question, he felt along the man’s chest. It was a bloody mess. Brodee jerked off his plaid. “William, help me.” William was there in a flash, and together they lifted Cul and wound the plaid around the man’s upper chest to stop the bleeding.
“I’m sorry,” Cul said. “I failed ye.”
Jesus.Did that mean…
“Where is Patience?” Brodee asked, forcing the words past his constricted throat.
“She ran with Jane. Loskie pursuing.”
“Jane’s husband?”
“Aye.” The word was weak. Cul was fast fading. “I had him, but then he took his wife. Knife to her neck. He would have—” A coughing spell wracked Cul, and the words died. After a moment, he gasped in a breath. “He would have killed her.” The words were no more than a whisper now. Brodee had to lean close to hear. “I had to put my sword down to save her.”
Brodee ground his teeth together on the desire to roar his fury. “Dunnae ever put yer sword down unless ye have a dagger to throw. When ye are better, we’ll practice the scenario.” He squeezed the man’s shoulder and turned to William in the darkness. “Take him back to the castle. I’m certain they have a healer. See that he lives.”
