Heroes of Honor: Historical Romance Collection

by Laurel O'Donnell

  “Sorcha arrived about a sennight ago and claimed to be our stepmother’s maid. Lady Beatris welcomed her as though she kenned her well and said that she couldnae live any longer without Sorcha’s help.”

  “Sorcha isnae a lady’s maid. She’s barely a kitchen maid.” Tristan looked to Alyson and tried to smile and encourage her. He feared it came out as nothing more than a grimace.

  “Aye, well Sorcha kenned Lady Beatris and Sir Alan vera well. She seemed to ken Sir Alan better than any of the other women here.” Alyson could not help the blush that overcame her, but she continued to tell the tale. “Today, Sorcha and a guard brought in a woman who looked half drowned. They said they were walking near the river and found her washed up on the shore. Lady Beatris offered to care for the woman, and they took her to a guest chamber. They sent me up with a tray just a short while ago. When I removed the gag from her mouth, the woman told me her name was Lady Mairghread and that they took her from Mackay land.”

  “Where is she? Where is she now? I will see her now!” This time there was no doubt that Tristan roared. Alyson backed up to the solid wall of Magnus’s chest behind her. He placed a hand on her waist to balance her.

  “Ye were just told they placed her in one of the guest chambers. She is being well taken care of, I assure ye.” Malcolm MacDonnell cut in.

  “Nay, she isnae.” Alyson only whispered this.

  Tristan turned on her and looked ready to murder her.

  “Where. Is. She?”

  “Tristan, come I will take ye to her.” Malcolm moved towards the door of the solar. Tristan and the Sinclairs moved as one.

  “Alyson, stay out of sight. I dinna want Lady Beatris or Sorcha to ken ye told us aught.” Magnus gave her a smile as he followed the other men out of the room.

  The group of men had just made it to the landing when a loud crash from an above stairs chamber echoed through the passageway. Then there was the sound of something breaking and a scream followed by a loud grunt.

  “Mairghread!” Tristan took off at a run towards the noise.

  The sight that met his eyes would be forever engrained into his mind’s eye. He could never unsee it. There on the bed laid the one great love of his life. Mairghread had one arm and both of her legs tied to the bed posts. She was naked, and two men were attempting to defile her. She was swinging her free arm wildly as she landed punch after punch to one man’s head, but it seemed not to faze him in the least as he licked her breast. She was bucking her body as she tried to shove both men off her. Another man was leaning between her legs with his tongue hanging out.

  “Nay! Nay! Ye canna touch me! I will kill ye both before ye are through.” Her worn out voice came out between a scream and a whisper.

  Tristan felt the rage boil up and out of him. He was seeing red before but now, just like in the heat of battle, his vision tunneled to black on the edges and crisp clearness in the center. He launched himself at the bed and tackled the man between her legs. They crashed to the ground, and he straddled the man. His fists flew one after the other as he pummeled the man. The other man’s head hit the hard floor with a nasty crack, but he still struggled to push Tristan off him. It was only a matter of a minute or two before the man breathed his last. Tristan had beaten him to death with his bare hands. Tristan was not even close to being done yet. He jumped from the man and spun around. Alexander and Tavish had the other man pinned to the ground. As Tavish held him, Alexander gutted him with his dirk. Callum was untying Mairghread as Magnus pulled the sheet and blankets over her naked body.

  Tristan pushed past Callum and scooped Mairghread into his arms. He did not spare a glance at anyone other than Mairghread as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He walked to the passageway and turned to the chamber next door. He was not sure of where he was going. He was only certain he had to get Mairghread out of the chamber where they kept her a prisoner. Tristan looked around and did not think Mairghread would want him to place her on another bed just yet. He moved to the chair in front of the fire and sat down. He arranged her in his lap and held her. He kissed her forehead over and over as he whispered over and over, “tha gràdh agam”.

  Mairghread burrowed into his chest as though she was trying to become a part of him. “I love ye, too” was all she managed between sobs. She tried to slow her breathing and to sit up, but she was too weak.

  “Kiss,” she whispered.

  Tristan looked down at her watery eyes and could not imagine a more wondrous sight than her in his arms at this moment. He brushed his lips against hers. He did not want to frighten or traumatize her any more than she already was. However, she was not content with a light kiss. She pulled on his neck and raised her chin. She licked the seal of his lips and pressed harder with hers. Tristan would not have turned her down even if he wanted to. The kiss deepened, and his hands roamed over her body. He had a tiny thought in the back of his head that he was checking her for injuries just as much as he was enjoying the feel of her in his arms. They had barely begun when the door slammed open. Mairghread yelped and cowered in his arms. Tristan looked down at her and was not happy to find fear there. He looked over his shoulder to discover who had entered.

  “Ye canna just carry our sister off and hide her from us.” Callum growled.

  “Mairghread, are ye all right, lass? Are ye hurt?” Magnus squatted next to the chair Tristan and Mairghread shared. He looked her over and reached out to tuck her hair behind her ears. A brotherly move he had done countless times over the years.

  “Come here, lass.”

  Mairghread could only shake her head and cling tighter to Tristan. She leaned her head against his broad chest and closed her eyes. She breathed in his musky scent, and it was the first sense of calm she had experienced since before they rode out of the gates that morning. Tristan tightened his hold on her and glared at Magnus.

  Magnus stood up and exchanged looks with his brothers. He looked down at his wee sister who was now clearly a woman. A woman who had chosen her man over her brothers. If any of them had been willing to speak of their feelings, they might have admitted it hurt a bit to know she had replaced them. They no longer felt needed. They each shrugged, defeated, and walked out of the room.

  Once they were alone again, Tristan sat Mairghread up and looked into her eyes. The fear was no longer there but a great sadness was. He wondered just what had happened to her in the hours they were apart. Had a man molested her? His mind would not shake the image of the two men. She laid a hand over his heart and just shook her head.

  “Ye and ma brothers got here in time. Other than one of them licking ma breast, they didna have time to do aught worse to me. Nay body did aught worse to me.”

  Tristan could not help but breathe a sigh of relief, but he felt Mairghread stiffen in his arms. He knew why she retreated.

  “Mo chridhe, I would love ye and marry ye regardless of whether aught happened. It wouldnae have been yer doing or yer fault. I breathe easily because I am relieved ye were nae hurt more than I can see.”

  “Really?”

  “Little flame, ye are mine and always will be. I willna ever give ye up nay matter what. I’m proud of how ye tried to defend yerself, but they were both far larger than ye, and ye were tied up. Even if we hadnae been here in time, I wouldnae have turned ye away once we got here.”

  Mairghread could not understand why that made her feel so relieved, but it did. She realized she worried he might find her dirty or used after what he witnessed. She also realized she should have given Tristan more credit.

  “I’m just so thankful ye came when ye did. I kenned ye’ find me eventually, but I had nay idea when that might be. I figured it would be days or even sennights before ye tracked me. How did ye ken I was here?”

  “We dinna. At least, nae when we first arrived. We found the spot where ye climbed out of the water and someone dragged ye to the top of the embankment. We found three sets of footprints, but then there was nothing. Yer brothers and I came here hoping whoever rescued ye
might have brought ye here. If ye were nae here, we hoped the McDonells might help us search their lands. When we arrived, we spotted Lady Beatris at the dais. We moved to Malcolm’s solar to talk, but before we even got vera far, a young woman brought in food. Her name was Alyson, and she said she kenned ye were here.”

  “Alyson was kind to me. She unbound ma gag and fed me, and she said she would come back later with more food and to help me if I needed it.”

  Mairghread could not bring herself to admit it was to help with the chamber pot. Tristan looked at her and seemed to understand without an explanation. He looked at her wrists, raw from being bound.

  “She couldnae untie me or else Sorcha and Lady Beatris would ken who did it. Did ye ken Sorcha is here?”

  “Aye. I didna before, but I do now. I havenae seen her which is just as well because I will strangle her. If Alyson didna untie ye, how did one hand become free?”

  Mairghread paused before she answered that. She was certain the truth would upset Tristan, but she also would not lie. The truth would need to be told to Laird MacDonnell as it was his men who meant to rape her. She took a slow breath before answering.

  “The mon, Donald, who was licking ma breast untied ma hand. He forced me to--” She could not bring herself to say it after all. Mairghread looked at her hand, suddenly unable to wait to get it clean. She stood up from Tristan’s lap and wrapped the sheet and blanket around her. She walked over to the wash basin and scrubbed her hands. Tristan came up behind her and tenderly removed the soap from her hands, pressing them into the water. Tristan ran his large calloused hands over hers as though she was made of the softest silk. He lifted them and wrapped a drying cloth over them. He dried her hands and then turned her towards him. He smiled at her and nodded his head. She took another long breath.

  “He forced me to stroke him until he was hard.” She tried to swallow her sob and buried her face in his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

  Tristan stepped back, and she whimpered, fearing he was rejecting her. He wrapped one arm around her and pulled her to his chest. He used his other hand to lift her chin, but she would not make eye contact.

  “What on God’s green earth do ye have to be sorry for? He forced ye. Ye said it, and I said I saw how much larger he was than ye. I ken ye didna do it willingly. Mairghread, I dinna blame ye for any of this. It wasna yer fault. It was the fault of Alan for stealing ye away. It was the fault of Beatris and Sorcha for having ye bound and for leaving ye those so-called guards. It was Laird MacDonnell’s fault for having guardsmen who assume they can abuse and assault women. And it’s mine for nae protecting ye better. I should have listened to ye and brought ye back with me.”

  Mairghread looked up with watery eyes and stared at him.

  “How did I get to be so fortunate as to be loved by a mon such as ye?”

  “Fortune has naught to do with it. It is because ye are a warm, intelligent, quick witted, strong woman who is mightily easy to love. I fell in love with ye from the vera start.”

  She stepped into his embrace and wrapped her arms around his waist. Another wave of exhaustion overcame her, and she failed to stifle her yawn even though she tried. Tristan kissed the top of her head and scooped her into his arms. Once again, he looked at the bed but was not sure she was ready for it yet. He returned them to the chair where he sat down and stroked her head and back. Her body went limp only moments after they settled. He looked down at this woman who held his heart. He had never suffered the amount of fear that he had on this day. Not even going into battle or becoming laird at a young age had made him so terrified as the threat that he might have lost Mairghread or that someone harmed her. Neither had he ever been consumed by such an overpowering amount of rage as he had when he found out she was here and then when he found her in the chamber next door. The bloodlust and killing rage would have scared him, too, if he had not been so intent upon rescuing her and punishing the offenders. As he continued to stroke her hair and back, he realized a series of things in rapid succession. First, he would marry her before the sun set the next day. He did not care who officiated, who was there, or where it happened. He would call Mairghread “wife” before the next night started. Second, he had to deal with Lady Beatris and Sorcha’s parts in all of this. Third, he and Laird MacDonnell would have a reckoning on how his guards behaved.

  Once Mairghread twitched twice and her breathing slowed, he was convinced she was in a deep sleep. He moved her to the bed and laid her down. Tristan did not want to leave her for even a second, but he was certain he did not want to deal with this mess while she was present. He wanted to shield her from any more nastiness, and he was certain nastiness was all that was inevitable where Beatris and Sorcha were concerned. He placed a soft kiss on her lips and moved to the door.

  What looked like a large boulder lurched backwards when he opened the door. He looked down to discover Magnus sitting in the doorframe. Magnus stood up and turned to Tristan. His eyes were red rimmed and glassy. Tristan was shocked what faced him. It was obvious Magnus had been crying, and the mountain of a man did not seem to care to hide it. Magnus peered around Tristan and spotted Mairghread on the bed.

  “Is she well?” he whispered.

  “Aye.” Tristan looked back over his shoulder at her sleeping form and smiled. “She’s exhausted and badly shaken but well. She says naught untoward happened beyond what we witnessed. She felt guilty and scared I wouldnae forgive her. She could have knocked me over with a feather when she apologized. I made sure she understands I dinna blame her for any of this, and I willna set her aside. Just the opposite, Magnus. I will marry yer sister tomorrow, come hell or high water. I willna wait another day to make her ma wife.”

  Magnus looked at Tristan and the hard set of his jaw. Determination radiated off him, so Magnus nodded his head.

  “I must see aboot Beatris and Sorcha. I also amnae pleased with MacDonnell’s men. Will ye stay with her until I return? I dinna want her to awake to being alone.”

  “Aye, I will stay, but ye will have to get in line for dealing with the MacDonnell. There are three Sinclairs ahead of ye. As for Beatris and Sorcha, ach well, ye and MacDonnell are welcome to them. We, Sinclairs, dinna want either of them near any of us.”

  Magnus pushed past Tristan and pulled the chair from near the fire over to the bedside. Tristan watched as Magnus took Mairghread’s tiny hand in his massive one. He bowed his head over her hand, and his shoulders began to shake. Tristan pulled the door closed to give the brother and sister some privacy. He still shocked Magnus was crying. But as he considered it, if their positions were reversed, and they had both seen what they had, but he was not allowed to comfort Mairghread, he most likely would have been a blubbering mess.

  Tristan entered a subdued and empty Great Hall. He looked around to see if he could find any of the people he was looking for. An old woman sitting at a trestle table pointed towards the door to the MacDonnell’s solar. He marched over there and did not bother to knock before opening the door. The scene that met him was not what he expected, but he should have known.

  MacDonnell sat behind his desk with Callum leaning across the table glaring at him and yelling. Sorcha was near the fireplace with crocodile tears falling down her cheeks as she tried to bat her eyelashes at a disgusted and disinterested Tavish. Lady Beatris sat at the table with a furious Alexander standing over her.

  “How could ye nae ken who was brought in to yer keep? A guest? Who the bluidy hell did ye think she was? Did ye nae look at her at all? She looks just like our father and all of us. Anyone would ken she’s a Sinclair with just one peek.” Callum’s voice rose louder with each word. “Ye useless piece of shite. What type of men do ye have in yer clan that they would rape a woman? Is that yer idea of Highland hospitality? To let yer men molest an innocent lass who ye’re former stepmother and yer servant tied to the bed?”

  Before Laird MacDonnell was prepared, Callum gripped his large wooden desk and yanked it up. The desk flew against the
wall and landed with a massive crash. Callum lunged at MacDonnell and grabbed him around the neck. He lifted the large warrior out of his chair and shook him like a rag doll. Tristan began to move forward. He was not sure if it was to intercede on MacDonnell’s behalf or to ensure he got his pound of flesh, but a loud banging at the solar door made him turn.

  “Ma laird? Ma laird, are ye all right in there? Let us in!” The pounding continued. Tristan made it to the door just as it began to open. He wedged himself into the doorway and blocked the entrance.

  “We are sorting through some family business in here. Yer laird will live, but dinna disturb us again, nae matter what ye hear.” Tristan slammed the door in the guards’ faces and dropped the bar into place.

  By now Callum had broken MacDonnell’s nose and jaw. Both eyes were already showing bruising from the broken nose. Tristan walked over and tapped Callum on the shoulder. Callum was ready to swing at Tristan before he realized who he was. Callum let go of Laird MacDonnell and stepped aside. An unspoken agreement passed between them. MacDonnell was cupping his nose when he looked up at Tristan. Without a word, Tristan punched Laird MacDonnell in the gut and then kneed him in the groin.

  “Ye are more than just a might lucky we arrived when we did. If yer men had raped ma betrothed, ye would have an all-out war on yer hands with both the Mackays and the Sinclairs. Ye ken it would nae take much for us to summon our allies who are many and strong. Far more and far stronger than yers.” Tristan punched him again in the gut. As MacDonnell bent over, Tristan thrust his fist up into the underside of MacDonnell’s chin. “If the king wouldnae be breathing down ma neck, I would kill ye for this offense. Count yerself lucky yet again that I dinna have the time to deal with any angry monarch when I am aboot to marry the only woman I have ever and will ever love.”

  MacDonnell was wise enough to only nod. He was angry that he was being beaten in his own solar by not one clan but two. However, he understood it was not possible for him to defend himself against four angry men, and he did not want his men to catch sight of him as he was. His pride would not allow it. He also had the sense to accept that, to some degree, he deserved it. He had not cared who the bedraggled woman was when they brought her in. He was more than willing to allow her a place to rest and recover, but he was not interested beyond that. It shocked him to find his two warriors attempting to rape his guest, and he would deal with that because, unlike what the Mackay and the Sinclairs assumed, he did not tolerate women in his keep being abused by the men of his clan.