Free Highland Angel by Hannah Howell Page B

him up in her arms, then swooned. Kirstie tried not to think about how many injuries might be hidden from view. Callum quickly took the lead as they headed to Payton’s house.
    “Jesu, lass,” cried Wee Alice as Kirstie and Callum entered the kitchens, “what have ye found?”
    “Moira’s brother,” she replied. “I dinnae ken how he survived or how he got to where we found him, but right now he needs cleaning and his wounds seen to.”
    The next hour passed in a taut silence as they cleaned the child, tending all his bruises, and wrapping his ribs when Wee Alice decided that, although not broken, there was a need for binding them. Each bruise she put ointment on, each glance at the tiny, battered body of young Robbie, fed Kirstie’s anger. There was no excuse for anyone doing such hurt to a child.
    Moira edged up to the side of the bed even as Robbie opened his eyes. “Moira?” the boy called.
    “Here I am, Robbie,” Moira said, taking his hand in hers. “I thought the angels had taken ye away.”
    “Nay. Not yet.”
    “And they willnae,” Kirstie said firmly as she helped the boy to drink some of the thin gruel Wee Alice had hastily made and brought to the room.
    “Do the bruises hurt?” Moira asked.
    “Nay, not so bad. The old ones are near healed. ’Tis the ones I got a few days ago that sore pain me.”
    “What happened a few days ago?” asked Kirstie.
    “I nearly got taken back to that bastard,” the boy said in a surprisingly hard voice. “His men grabbed me and thumped me some, then threw me on a horse. I threw myself back off and went back into the town to hide.”
    “Such a brave, resourceful lad.”
    “I had to find Moira.” Despite the swelling around his mouth, he managed a little smile for his sister. “I have to take care of her. Promised Mither.”
    “And I am sure her heart is fair bursting with pride as she looks down on ye, her braw son,” said Wee Alice as she sat down on the edge of the bed and gently coaxed Robbie into drinking a potion that would ease his pain and help him sleep.
    “What has happened?”
    Kirstie looked at Payton, who stood in the doorway, a frowning Ian behind him. “It seems the angels didnae take Moira’s brother, after all.”
    Payton cursed softly and strode to the bed. The little boy lying there fighting to keep his eyes open was sorely injured. Despite the bruises and bandages, however, he could see the resemblance to little Moira. Robbie had the same dark hair, although not as curly, and the same dark eyes. Payton found it difficult to believe that such a battered child, a boy of only seven, could have survived on his own for several weeks. Then he recalled that Callum had survived for years.
    “I will care for Moira, sir,” the boy said, his voice slurred as Alice’s potion began to do its work.
    “Aye, I am sure ye will,” Payton said, deeply moved by how the small boy thought only of his smaller sister despite the travails he had obviously suffered through. “Let the women help ye first, however. Ye need to be healed and strong so ye can care weel for your sister.”
    The boy’s eyes closed. “I am feeling tired.”
    “He is just sleeping,” Moira said as she climbed onto the bed next to her brother, but her voice shook with fear.
    Payton stroked her thick curls. “He is truly just sleeping, lass. Wee Alice gave him some medicine so he can rest without pain.”
    “Thank ye, Wee Alice,” Moira said as she lay down next to Robbie. “I will stay with him, I think.”
    “Aye, ye do that, lass. That will make him feel better.” Payton took Kirstie by the hand and tugged her out of the room.
    As Kirstie allowed him to lead her into his ledger room where he had stolen far too many kisses, she fought to control the rage writhing inside of her. Payton would have questions and she would need a clear head to answer them. Later, she would consider what needed to be done about this latest atrocity committed by Roderick. She took the goblet