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How to Forgive a Highlander (MacGregor Lairds)

Page 11

by Michelle McLean


  “I’m not, I’m merely…”

  He cocked an eyebrow, and she jutted her chin in the air, standing her ground for a second before her shoulders slumped in defeat.

  “I am merely trying to make sure that everything goes to plan. That I’m doing everything I can to help. I feel responsible…”

  Will shook his head and took her chin in his fingers. “If anyone is responsible, it’s me. As ye’ve told me repeatedly,” he said, smiling to lessen the accusation. “And ye werena wrong. As much as it pains me to hear it. Over and over again.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “I suppose I could mention it a little less.”

  “Perish the thought,” he said, releasing her chin. “However, I would appreciate a little more confidence in my ability to carry out my orders.”

  She released a long sigh and nodded. “But Will, I can’t sit about doing nothing while the men prepare for war. I must do something.”

  “I dinna object to ye accompanying me. I merely object to yer objections.”

  She laughed at that. “I shall try to keep them to myself.”

  It wasn’t much of a promise, but it was likely the best he’d get. He leaned in farther, slowly enough she could move if she wished. Instead, she tilted her face up, kissing him back when his lips brushed against hers.

  “When this is all over, we need to discuss a few things,” he said.

  “Yes,” she said, staring up into his eyes. “We do.”

  He stepped back, releasing her, and they went on about their tasks. She even managed to keep from questioning his every move. For the most part.

  Finally, everything was done, and there was nothing left to do but wait for the attack.

  Alice and Philip’s chamber had a small storage room behind it that had only one small window set high in the wall and was cleverly disguised behind a tapestry. The women and children were ushered in there and hidden away.

  When John tried to get Elizabet to go inside, however, he ran into some resistance.

  Alice and Rose exchanged a glance and turned to hide their smiles as John argued with his stubborn wife, but Will scowled.

  “What is it about women that makes them argue over even the most reasonable request?” he said, not really directing the comment at anyone. But Rose, naturally, chose to answer.

  “Perhaps men don’t always know as much as they think they do. Women do know best sometimes, especially when it comes to what they are capable of.”

  Will snorted. And then ducked to dodge the wadded roll of bandages Rose chucked at his head.

  John seemed to be wavering on whether or not he should guard the main doors with his men or stay in the hidden chamber with his wife. Lady Elizabet was dangerously close to giving birth, and Will could understand his laird’s reluctance at leaving her. He itched to get out there and fight. He wanted nothing more than to rout Ramsay and his men, remove them from the face of the earth so they could no longer threaten those he cared for. But watching the struggle on John’s face as he tried to reconcile his duties as laird with his love for his wife struck Will anew, and he stepped forward.

  “I’ll stay and watch over them, my lord,” William offered. “Should we come under attack, I’ll make sure they are well hidden before any danger descends.”

  John hesitated but finally nodded. “Thank you, Will. I’ll rest easier with ye here to protect her.” He still looked worried, but some of the tension had eased from his face. He turned back to his wife, murmuring to her before giving her a quick kiss.

  The ladies sat on the bed, Elizabet rubbing her swollen belly while Alice fussed over her. Rose came back to his side.

  “That was very gallant of you,” she said. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she rolled her eyes. “What? I can pay a compliment when it’s deserved.”

  He chuckled. “Aye? I suppose miracles do happen every now and then.”

  She scowled. “Don’t make me take it back.”

  He laughed again, and her face softened. She looked back at the women on the bed. “I meant it,” she said quietly. “I know how much you’d like to be out in the thick of the fighting. How much it cost you to offer to stay behind.”

  His gaze took in the ladies before him and then shifted to the one at his side. “No’ such a great cost as all that to protect what is most precious.”

  Her gaze shot to his in surprise and he cleared his throat, stepping away from her. “I must make sure we are secure here,” he said, bowing his head before moving away.

  He hadn’t meant to say anything to her and could only hope he hadn’t betrayed too much. But Rose’s eyes followed him as he patrolled, checking doors, looking out the windows, guarding the entrance. They would have to resolve whatever this was between them. Once Ramsay had been taken care of. If they all survived.

  The sun climbed higher in the sky, but no word came from Glenlyon. Surely they should have heard something by now.

  His charges were mostly quiet, and he even had a small respite from Rose’s focused attention when she went into the hidden room to help one of the women settle her new baby. But a sudden curse from Lady Elizabet drew his gaze from his post by the window.

  She was brushing at a wet spot on the front of her gown. “I’m afraid I’m growing clumsier by the day,” she said. She hauled herself out of her chair with a sigh. “I’m going to change.”

  William frowned. “My laird said that no one was to leave this chamber, my lady.”

  “I am going only to the end of the hall. It’ll be a quick moment.”

  William glanced back and forth between Elizabet’s retreating back and the hidden door behind the tapestry. He’d been charged with protecting both, something that Elizabet was making impossible. He focused his gaze on Alice, trying to make it clear he wanted her to side with him and get Elizabet back into the dressing room. He didn’t want to upset the lady, but he’d promised to protect her. John would never forgive him if something happened to her. And he’d never forgive himself for failing his kinsman.

  Alice wavered, clearly thinking the same thing he was. But her gaze softened when she looked at Elizabet, and he realized she’d made the wrong choice.

  “I’ll go with her,” Alice said. “I’ll make sure she hurries.”

  William’s frown darkened at that. “Forgive me, my lady, but both of ye should be in with the other women. I really must insist…”

  But Elizabet was already out of the door, muttering about being uncomfortable enough without being wet, too.

  “I’ll look after her,” Alice promised, following her friend. “We’ll make haste.”

  William paced the room, going from the window to the doorway, back and forth. Dread settled in his gut. Something was about to happen. And the two ladies he’d been charged to protect had escaped him. He cursed under his breath, poking his head out the chamber doorway one more time. He could hear them rustling about in the chamber a few doors down. Hopefully, they were nearly finished.

  He paced back to the window and glanced outside briefly. Then he turned and pressed close to the glass, his heart hammering. Was that movement in the courtyard?

  The thick glass of the window made it difficult to see, but as he watched, a large group of men poured through the courtyard, fighting their way through those stationed outside.

  Ramsay! It must be. He’d been wrong. He’d sent everyone to Glenlyon! Guilt and terror shot through him but he jumped to action.

  “We’re under attack!” he said.

  Rose darted from the hidden room, the bandages she’d been rolling tumbling from her fingers.

  “Get them inside,” he said, gesturing to the few women who’d been milling about the room.

  They were already scurrying to do his bidding and get themselves hidden in the secret chamber. He had to get to the ladies, Elizabet and Alice.

  Rose slammed the secret chamber door behind her and stood in front of it. He wanted to argue with her, insist that she hide away as well. But he knew she wouldn’t listen, and the
y were out of time.

  He hauled her to him and pressed a fast, hard kiss to her lips. “We have much to discuss when this is all done, ye stubborn wee madwoman. But for now…”

  He pulled the extra sword he’d strapped to his hip that morning from its scabbard. “Take this. Yer wee dagger is in yer pocket, but should ye need something more…” He handed her the sword.

  She stared at him, eyes wide and mouth open, but she didn’t argue. For once.

  Shouts and metal clashing with metal rang through the house.

  “She’s here, my lord!” a man shouted in the hallway.

  Will sprinted for the doorway, just in time to intercept two men who were charging for Alice and Elizabet, who stood frozen outside the far chamber door.

  He shouted and swung his sword, catching them by surprise. His blade slashed through the man nearest him, and he fell to the floor, his dead eyes staring wide.

  The other man swung his sword and Will narrowly dodged it. Their blades clashed as they both swung again. There was no way to get the ladies into the hidden chamber now, not with them fighting right in front of the door and more men coming up the stairs.

  He ducked to avoid another thrust and then spun. His gaze briefly met Rose’s. She stood in the doorway, a large vase in her hands.

  “Duck!” she warned.

  He didn’t hesitate. The vase sailed out of the chamber’s doorway, crashing into William’s opponent and distracting him long enough for William to turn and look at Alice and Elizabet. He shouted one word.

  “Run!”

  …

  Rose paused only long enough to make sure William was unharmed. He turned to the ladies in the hall and shouted at them to run. Which meant he intended to stay behind and guard their escape.

  Terror for him flooded through her, but she wouldn’t let his sacrifice be in vain. She flew out the door, Will’s sword in her hand and a prayer in her heart that he’d survive.

  She ran for the women who stood rooted with fear at the end of the hallway.

  “We need to go, my lady,” she said to Lady Alice. “Now!”

  She thrust her dagger into Alice’s hand, her heart clenching at the sight of it. Will must have slipped it into her pocket again that morning. The thought that she’d never again be able to steal it back from him after he’d stolen it from her made her want to howl at the heavens. Instead, she looped an arm around Elizabet’s waist and half hauled her to the stairs.

  They led to the old kitchens and a quick glance around didn’t offer any hope of adequate concealment. More shouts and clashing steel spurred them out the door. They stayed plastered to the wall of the house while they took a second to gauge their surroundings. It sounded like the main bulk of the fighting had moved inside, which might give them a chance to hide themselves in the woods.

  Rose tried to remember the location of all those small Xs on the map. The last thing she wanted to do was lead her ladies right into a group of Ramsay’s men. But she wasn’t familiar with Kirkenroch. She couldn’t be sure where those Xs might be in relation to the actual land. And with the sound of clashing swords and shouts and running feet growing closer, they didn’t have many options. They couldn’t go back into the manor. They’d have to take their chances in the woods.

  “This way!” she said. She and Alice half supported, half dragged Elizabet into the small copse of woods at the back of the manor.

  They hadn’t gone far when the unmistakable sound of running footsteps came from behind them.

  “We must hide her,” Alice said, frantic in her need to find a place to hide Elizabet. “We can’t outrun whoever is coming. Not with…”

  She didn’t need to finish her sentence. They couldn’t go far with Elizabet in her condition. Even now, she bent over her belly, her face twisted in pain.

  The pounding footsteps came closer. More than one set. Terror set Rose’s heart to pounding so hard her head swam, but she fought it back.

  “There!” Alice said, pointing to a bramble of bushes and ferns where they could maybe hide Elizabet.

  But it was already too late.

  Three men entered the clearing. Led by the one they all feared the most.

  Elizabet’s face lost what little color had been left. “Ramsay,” she gasped.

  The devil himself had found them. He narrowed in on Elizabet, the cruelty and hatred emanating from him twisting his face into the visage of a demon.

  Rose raised her sword, intending to swing it at him, but one of his men stepped in front of her before she could.

  “I wouldn’t do that, poppet,” he said. “The master’s come all this way to have a word with the lady. You wouldn’t want to deny him that, would you?”

  She glared at him but stood down. He leered at her but as long as she wasn’t attacking, he seemed content to let her be. But she had no delusions that he would remain so. He seemed to be waiting for orders from Ramsay, who was busy spewing his hate-filled rhetoric at Elizabet and Alice. And whatever he was saying made them both go pale.

  Rose stepped closer to Elizabet, trying to give her whatever comfort and support she could.

  “Where is John?” Elizabet asked Ramsay, her voice strained.

  Ramsay raised a brow. “The last I saw your paramour, he was bleeding on the floor of this ruin you’ve been living in.”

  Elizabet swayed against Rose, who wrapped one arm about her, supporting her as best she could while still maintaining a tight grip on her sword. John had fallen. Had Will?

  She fought back the black wave of despair that threatened to overtake her. She had to protect her ladies.

  “His mistake was in staying here and not riding to Glenlyon like the rest,” Ramsay said, clearly relishing Elizabet’s pain. “I knew he’d never leave your side. One of the stable boys was most forthcoming about where he was likely to be. Of course, I slit his throat anyway. Wouldn’t do to reward such disloyalty.”

  “You evil bastard,” Alice said. Rose heartily agreed.

  “Now, now,” he said, his tone placating, though his face had gone a strange mottled shade of red. “Such language doesn’t become a lady.” Then he waved his hand. “Enough of this. Take care of those two,” he said to his men. “Try not to damage Lady Alice too much. But leave the Lady Elizabet. She’s mine to punish.”

  Elizabet put a hand on Alice’s arm but dropped it when another pain gripped her. Rose struggled to support her and still grip the sword. She would need both hands to swing it, if it came to that. And she knew it would. They were far from the house and, with the fighting going on, she doubted anyone would even hear their screams. If there were anyone left.

  The men advanced, smiling, obviously seeing no threat. Well, they were going to get a surprise. From the corner of her eye, she could see Alice straighten up, her face still pale but determined, her hand tightly gripping the dagger Rose had given her. Good. Pride for her mistress strengthened her own courage. They were probably going to lose this fight, but they could do some damage first.

  One of the men lunged at Alice, and she slashed out at him, yelling for all she was worth. Rose grinned and let out a bloodcurdling scream. The man bearing down on her hesitated, startled at her outburst. She jumped at his distraction and swung her sword for all she was worth.

  It sliced into his leg, deep enough to glance off bone if the reverberation that jolted up her arms was any indication.

  He screamed in pain and rage and swiped at her with his own sword, but his efforts were hampered by the blood pouring from his leg. Still, the weight of the sword in her own hands was already too much for her. The tip dragged along the ground as her assailant backed her up against a tree. She still managed to keep him at bay by hefting the sword and swinging it every time he ventured too near. But she wouldn’t be able to maintain it for long. She’d be dead already if she hadn’t managed to bloody him in that first attack.

  Rose quickly glanced around her, praying for help. Ramsay stalked Elizabet. By the look on his face, he was enjoying drawin
g it out, relishing the rising terror in his victim. Alice was on the ground. Her attacker lashed out, punching her with his fist. Rose gasped and shouted, swinging her sword again, though her muscles screamed and trembled. She had to get to Alice before the man atop her killed her.

  The sound of a shot ringing through the clearing froze everyone.

  Elizabet stood pressed against a tree, a pistol in each hand. She’d obviously fired one, as a faint puff of smoke dissipated from its muzzle. She dropped it as Ramsay clutched his side and staggered away from her, spewing rage-filled profanity. She fired again and this time, the bullet found its mark, square in Ramsay’s chest. He sank to his knees and then toppled to the ground.

  Elizabet dropped the gun and slumped against the tree at her back.

  Rose smiled and redoubled her grip on her sword. She swung. Her attacker, his gaze still focused on his fallen master, didn’t react in time, and the blade sliced across his belly.

  But it wasn’t deep enough. It seemed to only enrage him. He struck out, his fist connecting with her chin. She dropped to her knees, her ears ringing from the blow. Black spots ate at her vision and she fought against them.

  There was a pounding noise coming from somewhere. She put her hand up to her head, but the sound grew louder. Her attacker froze, then staggered on his wounded leg. Hands reached out to pull him away from her.

  “Will?” she asked, her voice faint even to her own ears.

  It wasn’t Will’s face that peered into her own. But it seemed friendly enough. She glanced to the side to see Elizabet cradled in someone’s arms, but she couldn’t see who it was. The black clouds grew stronger, and she finally couldn’t fight them anymore.

  Her sword dropped from fingers she could no longer feel, and the world went black.

  Chapter Twelve

  Several minutes earlier…

  With more men thundering up the hall stairs, Will had only a second to meet Rose’s gaze. The man she’d hit with the vase shook his head. He’d be on his feet again soon. And the others would be upon him in moments. Rose’s eyes grew bright, as if with unshed tears. Then she jutted that stubborn chin of hers in the air and gave him a tiny nod. With a shout, she gathered up her ladies and led them out of the hallway toward a back staircase.

 

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