Free Highland Destiny by Hannah Howell

because she believes passion destroyed her mother. Maldie doesnae want to repeat her mother’s follies. ’Twas when I saw that I no longer feared I was about to repeat our father’s mistakes that I was sure I was being driven by more than desire.” He shrugged, a little disgusted by his own uncertainties. “I just cannae say how much more. ’Tis a fierce thing, but ’tis also a puzzling thing.”
    “Then have her, brother. She is yours. I withdraw from the field. What with your fears, confusions, and desires and her fears and passions, the field is too crowded anyway.”
    Before Balfour could ask what Nigel meant, Maldie returned. The cross look she gave him as she set a tray of food on Nigel’s lap made Balfour fear she had overheard his talk with Nigel. He quickly discarded that concern. If Maldie had heard anything, she would have been a lot more than cross. Balfour knew that, to anyone idly listening, it would have sounded as if he and Nigel were callously deciding who would bed her. He doubted that his confession about the depth and confusion of his feelings would have wrung any sympathy from her either. Maldie was clearly just annoyed at his interference and the way he had ordered her around.
    “Am I allowed to help him eat his food?” Maldie asked, frowning when Balfour grinned.
    Balfour wondered fleetingly why he should be so inordinately pleased that he had not only guessed her mood, but the cause of it. “I should have thought that he was recovered enough to feed himself.”
    “Aye, he would be, if he hadnae got up and skipped about the room.”
    “I didnae skip,” muttered Nigel, whispering a curse when he had to have Maldie cut his bread for him.
    “And why shouldnae he be trying to walk?” asked Balfour, frowning a little when he suddenly became aware of how pale his brother was. “His fever has been gone for a week or more, and his wounds arenae in danger of opening.”
    “True, but he must now regain all the strength he lost. He must take his first steps with the utmost care, especially since one of those deep wounds was to his leg. I can understand what sets his mind to such foolishness,” Maldie added, watching Nigel closely as he took a drink of cider. “Lying abed, rested and with a full belly, one isnae always aware of one’s weaknesses and has no patience for caution. Howbeit, to do too much too fast could leave him with a stiffness in his leg he would never be rid of.”
    The firm tone of her voice told Balfour she spoke the truth, and he looked at Nigel. The tight, almost sullen look on his brother’s face said that Nigel also believed her warnings. Once Nigel’s fever had passed, Balfour had considered his brother healed, that the man only needed rest and food. He realized that he had been as foolish as Nigel. Hecould also see that Nigel was going to require a great deal of very close watching.
    “How goes the plan to free Eric and make Beaton suffer?” asked Nigel as Maldie took the meal tray away.
    “Slowly.” Balfour leaned against one of the tall, thick posts at the foot of the bed and crossed his arms over his chest. “We ken verra little about the mon or about Dubhlinn. I have set a mon within the heart of the enemy’s camp, but ’tis difficult for him to send us any information. Even the simplest thing could aid us, but we dinnae e’en have that yet.”
    “When ye say simple, do ye mean such things as when they open and close the gates?” Maldie asked as she poured herself a goblet of cider.
    “Aye, e’en something as small as that.”
    “Weel, they open them when the sun clears the horizon, and shut them at twilight.”
    Maldie nearly flinched beneath the brothers’ stares. The hint of suspicion in their eyes was justified, but that did not make it any less unsettling. In her eagerness to help defeat Beaton in any way she could, she had not considered how such information would be viewed. Nor had she considered the need to devise a very clever explanation