They'd found him in Durrkesh. Quinn was right. What was to prevent them from coming to Caithness? They could have easily followed the lumbering cart upon which they'd transported the sick men. And if they descended upon Caithness again, what harm would this blessed place suffer? What harm might they do to Jillian's home and Jillian herself? Edmund had died as a result of the last McKane attack. Maybe he'd caught a lung fever, but if he hadn't been wounded to begin with, he would never have caught the disease that had claimed his young life.
Grimm couldn't live with the thought of bringing harm—again—to Caithness and Jillian.
He stopped by the bed, gazed down at her, and watched her with his heart in his eyes. I love you, Jillian, he willed to her sleeping form. Always have, and always will. But I'm Berserk, and you—you're the best of life. I have an insane old da and a crumbling pile of rocks to call home. It's no life for a lady.
He forced his dark thoughts away, scattering them with his formidable will. Sinking into her body was all he wanted to contemplate. These past two days with Jillian had been the best two days of his life. He should be content with that, he told himself.
She rolled over in her sleep, her hand falling palm open, fingers slightly curled. Her golden hair fanned out across the white pillows, her full breasts spilled above the downy linen. Just one more day, he promised himself, and one more blissful, magical, incredible night. Then he'd leave, before it was too late.
* * *
CHAPTER 19
quinn and ramsey sacked the kitchens of caithness at dawn. Not one piece of fruit, not one slab of meat, not a single savory morsel was spared.
"Christ, I feel like I haven't eaten solid food in weeks!"
"We damn near haven't. Broth and bread don't count as real food." Ramsay tore off a chunk of smoked ham with his teeth. "I haven't had an appetite until now. That damn poison made me so sick, I thought I might never want to eat again!"
Quinn palmed an apple and bit into it with relish. Platters were piled haphazardly atop every available surface. The maids would faint when they discovered the men had wiped out all the food that had been prepared for the coming weekend.
"We'll hunt and replenish." Quinn felt mildly guilty as his gaze swept the decimated larder. "You up to a bit of hunting, Ram, my man?"
"So long as it's wearing a skirt," Ramsay said with a gusty sigh, "and answers to the name of Jillian."
"I don't think so," Quinn replied acerbically. "Perhaps you didn't notice, but Jillian obviously has a bit of a tendre for me. If I hadn't gotten sick at Durrkesh, I would have proposed marriage and we would be betrothed by now."
Ramsay took a deep slug of whisky and placed the bottle on the counter with a thump. "You really are dense, aren't you, de Moncreiffe?"
"Don't tell me you think it's you." Quinn rolled his eyes.
"Of course not. It's that bastard Roderick. It always has been, ever since we got here." Ramsay's dark expression was murderous. "And after what happened two nights ago…"
Quinn stiffened. "What happened two nights ago?"
Ramsay took another swallow, swished it over his tongue, and brooded a silent moment. "Did you notice the long table in the hall is gone, Quinn?"
"Now that you mention it, yes, it is. What happened to it?"
"I saw pieces of it out back behind the bothy. It was shattered down the center."
Quinn said nothing. He knew of only one man who could shatter a table of such massive proportions with his bare hands.
"I came down yesterday to find the maids sweeping food off the floor. One of the candelabra was wedged into the wall. Someone had a helluva fight in there two nights ago. But nobody has breathed a word about it, have they?"
"What are you saying, Logan?" Quinn asked grimly.
"Just that the only two people who were well enough to dine in the hall two nights ago were Grimm and Jillian. They obviously fought, but today Grimm didn't seem bitter. And Jillian, why, the woman has been wreathed in smiles and good humor. Matter of fact, just as a little test, what say we go wake Grimm right now and talk to him about it? That is, if he's not otherwise occupied."
"If you're insinuating that Jillian might be in his chambers, you're a stupid bastard and I'll call you out for it," Quinn snapped. "And maybe there was a fight in the hall between them, but I guarantee you that Grimm is far too honorable to seduce Jillian. Besides, he can't even bring himself to say a civil word to her. He certainly couldn't be nice to her long enough to seduce her."
"You don't find it curious that just when it seemed like you were making progress with her, you and I get poisoned and put out of the running, but he doesn't?" Ramsay asked. "I'd say it was suspiciously convenient. I think it's damned odd that he didn't get sick too."