Graeme arched an eyebrow but fell silent.

“Do you remember the lass who directed us to where Eveline was being held in the dungeon? She wore a cape with a hood and her face was hidden from view.”

Graeme frowned a moment, his brow creased in concentration. “Aye, I remember. I was frantic to find Eveline. ’Tis a shame. I never had the opportunity to thank the lass. Everything happened so quickly after that.”

“Her name is Genevieve. Genevieve McInnis,” Bowen said slowly.

“The lowland McInnises?” Graeme asked.

“Aye.”

Graeme’s frown deepened. “What’s a McInnis lass doing in McHugh Keep? They are close with the king. The laird’s daughter was killed in an ambush on her way to wed her betrothed.”

Bowen shook his head. “Nay. Genevieve lives still.”

“Wait a moment. Are you saying Genevieve is the laird’s daughter? And that she’s not dead? And she is the one who directed us to Eveline?”

“Aye, but that is only part of the tale. I have much to say, so eat and listen.”

Graeme fell silent and then motioned for Bowen to continue.

“Ian met Genevieve at court and became infatuated with her. He set upon her and her escort when she was traveling to meet her betrothed and killed every member of her party. ’Twas believed she too was killed.”

Graeme started to say something, but Bowen held up his hand.

“Ian took her back to his keep, and when she refused his advances he cut her face so that no man would ever look upon her again with favor.”

Graeme let out a curse. “The poor lass. And she is still here?”

“There is more,” Bowen said quietly. “He raped her repeatedly, forcing her to become his unwilling leman. She has been prisoner here for a year.”

“Have you sent word to her family? Are they coming to fetch her?”

Bowen blew out his breath. “Nay. She would not allow it.”

“Why not?” Graeme demanded. He looked stunned.

“ ’Tis better if I tell you the whole of it. ’Tis a complicated matter, and it only becomes more complicated.”

Graeme’s brows drew together, but he nodded. “Carry on, then.”

“Genevieve is deeply shamed by all that has been done to her. She’s permanently scarred. She bears the shame of what Ian forced upon her. She’s determined not to bring dishonor to her family, and she doesn’t want them to know what was done to her.”

Bowen could see that Graeme itched to argue, so he continued on before Graeme could interrupt again.

“As I said, she is the one who directed us to Eveline.”

He drifted off, reluctant to say the next. He knew it would condemn Genevieve in Graeme’s eyes, and he’d do anything to spare the lass that censure. But he wouldn’t lie to his brother. Graeme needed to know all so the slate was cleaned from the beginning.

“What you don’t know is that Genevieve was responsible, indirectly, for Eveline’s abduction.”

“What?”

Graeme exploded, sitting forward, some of the food knocked from the plate. His jaw was clenched, then he wiped at his mouth and stared at Bowen in confusion.

“The lass was responsible for Eveline’s abduction? I don’t understand.”

“ ’Tis not necessary to go over every aspect,” Bowen said in a low voice.

“Oh, aye, it is,” Graeme said, cutting Bowen off before he could proceed. “It’s very necessary. If this Genevieve had anything to do with Eveline’s abduction, I want to know about it.”

Bowen sighed. “She encouraged Ian to seek revenge. Word had drifted to Ian and Patrick of the deceit Eveline had perpetuated in order to escape her betrothal to Ian. Ian felt a fool and Genevieve took advantage of his anger and his fixation with the lass. She helped plot Eveline’s abduction and goaded Ian to act.”

“For God’s sake why?” Graeme roared.

“Because we were her only hope of salvation,” Bowen gritted out.

Graeme blinked and then shook his head. “You aren’t making sense.”

“I’m making perfect sense. The lass is smart. She knew that the Montgomerys and the Armstrongs would not tolerate the taking of Eveline. One or both of the clans would be forced into action. Genevieve knew that we would come and we would seek revenge on Ian—and Patrick. It was her only hope of escaping the life that Ian had forced upon her.”

Graeme’s jaw bulged and he flexed it as he clamped his teeth together. ’Twas obvious he was battling his anger, and Bowen didn’t want that anger to go unchecked.

“There’s something else you should know, Graeme.”

Graeme glanced up, meeting Bowen’s determined gaze.

“I’m in love with her.”

Chapter 31

Graeme’s face grew stormy. His mouth worked up and down, but no words would come out. Then he shook his head. “She betrayed our clan—she betrayed Eveline—and you love her? Have you taken leave of your senses?”

Bowen’s lips tightened. “She had good reason for what she did. I’m torn on my feelings over it, but she was in a desperate position and she did what she had to in order to survive. I cannot fault the lass for that. If Eveline was not your beloved wife, you would not see fault, either.”

“Do not tell me what I would find fault in,” Graeme said fiercely. “She purposely put another woman in harm’s way for her own gain. I shudder to think of all that Eveline endured. ’Tis my greatest fear, even today, that she did not speak of all of it in an effort to spare me the pain of knowing. Have you any idea what it’s like to worry that something that horrific has happened to someone you love with all your heart and soul?”

“That and more has happened to Genevieve. Repeatedly,” Bowen said coldly.

Graeme exhaled and his expression eased. He looked weary and he rubbed at his forehead.

“ ’Tis not something I can easily forgive, Bowen. You have to understand that. You cannot expect me to accept this.”

“I promised her that we would give her sanctuary within the Montgomery clan,” Bowen said through a tight jaw. “I would give her that protection as my wife.”

Graeme’s jaw went slack, and his eyes darkened with anger. “You would marry a woman who has so wronged your clan? Your sister by marriage? Think of what you do, Bowen. She has you by the cods. ’Tis clear she is manipulating you.”

Fury blew over Bowen. He’d not expected Graeme to be happy over the situation. He expected his anger. He’d not expected Graeme to take things this far and insult him in the process.

“I’ll not grant my blessing for this,” Graeme said, his voice laced with anger. “I’ll not welcome her into the Montgomery clan.”

Ice slid into his heart. Bowen was numb with the realization of the choice before him. And yet he knew without hesitation that it was the right choice. He could not leave Genevieve. He could not break his vow to see her protected. And loved.

She’d been dealt so much at such a young age. It was unconscionable to throw her to the wolves and walk away. He would not live without her. Even if it meant going his own way.

“I’ll be with Genevieve with or without your blessing,” Bowen said, his words dropping like stones in the silence of the room.

Graeme stared at him, mouth gaping. “You would really choose this woman over your own kin?”

Bowen stared back for a long moment, the silence growing ever more uncomfortable. “Tell me something, Graeme. Would you choose your kin over Eveline?”

Graeme seemed stunned by the question. His brows furrowed and he didn’t open his mouth to respond.

Bowen’s lip curled and he gazed at his brother in disgust. “I didn’t think so.”

He turned, only wanting to step away so that his anger could calm and he could think more rationally. When he put his hand out to open the door, he paused and turned back to Graeme, who was still sitting by the fire.

“You can rest in my chamber this night. I’ll seek other accommodations.”

He quietly left the room and shut the door behind him. It was instinctive to go to Genevieve’s door. He hated to barge in without knocking, but neither did he want to remain in the hall long enough to be seen.

He opened the door and slipped inside. Genevieve was by the fire, her long hair unbound and streaming down her shoulders. She was perched in a chair, her knees to her chin and her heels resting on the edge of the seat.

He made a small sound so she’d be alerted to his presence, and she whirled around, her eyes wide with fright.

“ ’Tis just me,” he soothed.

She relaxed, but her eyes remained alert and searching.

He walked forward, realizing the presumption of his barging into her private quarters—a place he’d assured her that she would not be bothered. He stood a few feet away, unsure of what to do now that he was here and Genevieve sat before him, a vision of loveliness silhouetted by the fire.

“Would you like to sit?” she asked softly, gesturing toward the chair opposite her. “You look as though you have much on your mind.”

He took the chair and leaned forward in it, his elbows resting on his knees.

“I wanted to see you,” he said simply.

He’d not upset her by telling her of Graeme’s reaction to his declaration. He hadn’t even yet given her the words—his feelings. In truth, he was … afraid.

It amused him that a man well versed in the ways of women and confident in his own powers of seduction should be so uncertain over a lass. But Genevieve was different. She was important. He didn’t want to mishandle the situation and ruin any chance he had of making her his.

She reached her hand across the distance and held it out to him. Such a simple gesture, yet it touched him deeply. He slid his fingers over her smooth palm and curled them around hers, enjoying the contact.

“Did you greet your brother?” she asked cautiously.

“Aye,” he said grimly. “He is settled in my chamber for the night.”

She frowned, her eyebrows drawing together. “Where then will you stay?”

He hesitated, not wanting to be overbold, and yet he wanted to be honest with her.

“I would like to stay here. With you.”

Her eyes darkened, then widened in surprise. Her hand trembled inside his, and he squeezed to reassure her.

“I am not expecting anything you are not willing to give,” he said in a low voice. “Your company is enough.”

She shifted in her seat and then rose, her hand still grasped within his. Her hair fell down her back and the simple shift she wore tangled at her knees, baring her feet as she closed the distance between them.

She stood between his spread thighs and slowly lowered her mouth to his, touching softly and hesitantly. Her breath stuttered nervously over his lips as she shyly deepened the kiss.

“Ah, lass, what you do to me,” Bowen whispered.

He pulled her down to perch on his lap and wrapped both arms around her, holding her against his chest as she tucked her head beneath his chin.

He rubbed one hand up and down her arm, just wanting to absorb the feel of her. His mind was alive with the choices before him and the repercussions for those choices. And yet the biggest consequence of all would be not to have her. Everything else he could face, but not a future without Genevieve.

She lifted her head, bumping into his chin as she pulled away. She stared at him with such dread in her eyes that it twisted his insides.

“Genevieve, what is amiss? You have to know I will never hurt you.”

She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears—and shame. “I know you’ll not hurt me, Bowen. There is something I must tell you. If you knew … You would not want me thus. And yet I must tell you, because I cannot allow things to progress between us if you don’t know.”

Fear took hold and wouldn’t let go. He didn’t like the tone of her voice. He didn’t like the agony in her eyes.

He touched her face, his fingers shaking as he traced the scar on her cheek.

“What is it, lass?”

She closed her eyes and lowered her head so she wouldn’t meet his gaze. Her voice was so low he had to strain to hear.

“I willingly took Ian to my bed.”

Bowen was certain he could not have heard properly.

She opened her eyes and lifted her chin a notch, peeking at him from beneath her eyelashes.

“ ’Twas when Eveline was brought to the keep. Ian was set on h-h-having her. He intended to rape her. He was in such a state. He was triumphant, like a man drugged. Euphoric that he’d succeeded in spiriting Eveline away. He kept saying that the lass would not make a fool of him and that he’d punish her.”

Her breath caught and held until finally it hiccupped softly from her throat.

“I could not allow it.”

Her voice cracked and a low sob welled from her chest.

“ ’Twas my doing that she was here, and I was so shamed. I knew that I could never be happy knowing that my freedom was bought by the suffering of another. So … so I invited him to my bed. I s-s-seduced him.”