My Highland Warrior (Warriors of the Highlands Book 1)

by Miriam Minger

  Everyone seemed to fall back, some women shrieking with alarm, which made Magdalene run even harder for a massive door opened to the sunshine.

  She dodged a midnight-haired warrior reaching out to catch her—och, Cameron Campbell!—and plunged outside into the bailey, her only thought to reach the castle gates that yawned open. Aye, this was her chance to escape!

  Yet she’d given no consideration to the mud, which sucked the slippers from her feet and slowed her down…despair filling her that her hastily conceived attempt to flee was over before it had begun.

  She heard Gabriel’s stern voice behind her, commanding everyone to move out of the way. Then he caught her around the waist just as she sank to her knees in the muck reeking of horse manure.

  “By God, woman, what am I tae do with you?”

  She thought fleetingly of not resisting him, until something inside her seemed to shatter, Magdalene lashing out with her fists and kicking wildly even as he lifted her into the air.

  She caught him on the chin and heard him gasp.

  She kicked him near the groin and heard him curse.

  Then she was wrapped in so steely an embrace that she couldn’t move a muscle, Gabriel’s expression truly ominous as he carried her back into the keep.

  “No! I want Sister Agnes!” she screamed into his ear, the only way left to her to protest. “I want tae go home! Sister Agnes, help me!”

  “The Reverend Mother is not here,” came Gabriel’s gruff response as he strode toward the stairway where Euna and Donella awaited them, the women wringing their hands. “Believe me, wife, if it was in my power tae return you this very hour tae the convent, I would do it! This is your home now, though you’ve disrupted the day as surely as my every waking moment since first I laid eyes upon you!”

  He set her down so roughly at the bottom of the stairs that Magdalene gasped. Her two jailers were right there to grab her arms as Gabriel towered over her, his expression thunderous.

  “Take her tae her room and clean her up. She stinks like a stable—I stink like a stable! Both of us covered in the muck that Seoras calls a marriage, damn him! If not for the good your dowry’s brought us—och, have I gone mad myself tae think I could ever reach you? Go on, get her out of my sight!”

  His roared command echoing around them, Magdalene thought he might turn and strike the wall, his huge fists were clenched so tight.

  Instead he turned and strode away toward his four captains, who stood silent and grim-faced near the entrance to the great hall.

  A beast. A tyrant! Just as she’d thought from the first moment she had spied him, Magdalene twisting and fighting and choking on tears as Euna and Donella hauled her up the steps, the women grunting from the strain.

  Chapter 11

  “It’s been a week, Gabriel. Dinna you think you should check on her?” Conall queried, leaning upon his sword and wiping the sweat from his brow. “She’s your wife after all—”

  “What do you know of wives?” Gabriel cut him off, wiping away his own sweat with the back of his hand. “You who’ve sworn never tae take a bride? Too many flowers tae be plucked and so little time? Wed yourself a lunatic and then I’ll welcome your advice. Raise your sword, man, we’ve rested long enough.”

  “Mayhap not, according tae Clovis.” Standing near his brother, Cameron nodded toward the healer, who had appeared in an archway overlooking the bailey where Gabriel and his men had been training.

  All morning. Without a stop.

  Gabriel muttered a low curse and shot a glance at Clovis, but the scrawny fellow only lifted his pointed chin and seemed to be beckoning to him.

  “It’s too soon for you tae work yourself so hard, Gabriel, and well you know it,” Alun said gruffly, shooting a glance at the healer while sopping away the sweat from his scarred face. “You dinna need him tae tell you as much. You might even make your shoulder worse if you go on like you’ve no injury at all. And I agree with Conall—”

  “Ah, really? For once?” Grinning at Alun, Conall gave him a small bow.

  “Aye, about Lady MacLachlan,” Alun continued, ignoring his brother-in-arms, the two of them always verbally sparring. “You canna leave her locked up like a prisoner, Gabriel. She’s more a willful child than a madwoman that would do anyone harm.”

  “Except when she kicks,” Finlay interjected, looking pointedly at Gabriel. “I saw how close you came tae ruin again last week when her foot caught you near the groin. I say leave the lass in her room until she’s learned her lesson.”

  “What lesson might that be?” Alun snorted, clearly not convinced. “Do you think she even remembers what happens from day tae day? Everyone knows she’s not right in the head. What did she do that was so awful? Howled like a dog? Dumped food on herself?”

  “Took off running for the gates,” Gabriel said under his breath, the unexpected discussion of Magdalene irritating him more than anything. “Enough, the lot of you! Are you my captains or clucking chickens? Let’s get back tae training. Robert the Bruce and his men might be heading north and I’ll have us ready for them—”

  “Laird MacLachlan, a word if you please!”

  Gabriel groaned at the sight of Clovis holding up his ankle-length tunic and hurrying across the bailey, the man’s legs as skinny as the rest of him. With a brusque wave that his captains and forty men-at-arms continue on without him, he strode toward the healer.

  Odd, though. Clovis wasn’t one to spend much time outside, the pale-skinned fellow preferring to remain indoors unless he was called upon to treat an injury. What could be so important to bring him out into the blazing sunshine? Clovis might not approve of Gabriel training so vigorously, but he wasn’t one, either, to insist that his advice be heeded—och, no, was it something mayhap to do with Magdalene?

  Struck by sudden concern that rocked him with its intensity, Gabriel caught up with the man and grabbed a bony arm.

  “Clovis?”

  “It’s all very peculiar, really, but I knew I must mention it tae you, Laird.”

  “Mention what? Is aught amiss?”

  “Oh, aye, your lady’s not eating—no, not for a day or two. Donella summoned me an hour past tae have a look at her, and it’s not the only time in the past week. First tae tend tae her feet again—”

  “Her feet? Are they still plaguing her?”

  “A wee bit, aye, but they’re much better than before. Her bruises are fading, too—no, it was something else I noticed, though it took me a few times attending tae her until I was certain.”

  “Certain of what, man?” Gabriel demanded, letting go of Clovis’s arm when he saw the man wince. “Forgive me, I didna mean tae hurt you, but if it’s something serious—”

  “No, not serious. A good thing for you and your bride, I would think. She’s not a lunatic, Laird. Just very unhappy. Tae refuse food for two days—”

  “Not a lunatic?” Gabriel stared almost dumbly at the healer, feeling as if everything had grown very still around him. In truth, he had pondered the same thing himself since the debacle a week past—something about the tears springing to her eyes that had so struck him—but to hear Clovis say the words and to see him firmly shaking his head…

  “No, not at all. She’s despondent, aye, but no less sane than any of us. It’s a wonder, really, that she feigns madness so convincingly—but not enough tae fool me. How long did she live at the convent?”

  “Four years,” Gabriel murmured, still so stunned that he didn’t know what to ask first. “Her father sent her tae Dumbarton after Maggie went mad just like her mother.”

  “Hmm, mayhap the mother’s lunacy was true, and then the daughter mimicked her…but why would Lady MacLachlan do such a thing?”

  Realization dawning upon Gabriel, bits of thoughts and wonderings coming together like a puzzle in his mind, he had only one word for the healer. “Debora.”

  “Debora?”

  “Aye, my wife’s older sister. She was wed tae a monster whose cruelty drove her to an early grave.”<
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  “Ah, so it’s fear, then.” Shaking his head, the healer sighed heavily. “Mayhap impossible tae overcome…unless you change your ways with your new bride, Laird. No wonder she refuses tae eat, poor wee lass.”

  Poor wee lass. Sister Therese had intoned those very words so many times that Gabriel had lost count during the journey to fetch Magdalene…and it seemed he had confirmed his wife’s worst fear.

  That she would find herself wed to a cruel monster just like her sister, Debora—for so she must think of him, he had no doubt! No wonder she’d feigned madness in an attempt to avoid such a fate.

  Feigned madness! Gabriel still could almost not believe it, though everything seemed so clear to him now.

  Her escapade in the fountain…aye, she must have led those nuns on a merry chase the entire time she had lived at the convent to ensure that none would doubt her lunacy.

  Most times acting like the sweetest child, just like Sister Agnes had said…until a wildness overcame her as Gabriel had seen over and over again. She’d done all of those crazy, impetuous antics so he wouldn’t doubt her lunacy, either!

  Stealing his horse.

  Laughing like a maniac.

  Running headlong into the woods and fighting him tooth and nail when she was caught.

  Ripping open the pillows and shattering a vase.

  Howling like a dog.

  Plastering food on her head and pouring ale down the front of her gown.

  She must have hoped he would grow so angry and frustrated with her that he would take her back straightway to the convent—and he had grown angry and frustrated!

  Enough to shout at her and treat her roughly and banish her to her room without once this past week checking on her welfare. Och, she must believe him a monster, indeed!

  “I’ll go tae her,” he said tightly, furious with himself even as Clovis clutched his arm with a bony hand.

  “Laird, forgive me, but exposing her ruse might make matters worse. Why not earn her trust with patience and kindness until she sees that you’re not the man she fears you might be? It might take some time, but better tae soothe her heart slowly, aye? I’ll not say aught tae anyone and you keep the truth tae yourself as well. Think on it, Laird, I beg you! She may seem strong and determined, but believing she’s on the same course as her sister might push her tae true madness—if you dinna take care. Right now, it would be enough tae coax her tae eat.”

  Gabriel didn’t miss the raw concern in Clovis’s voice even though he wanted nothing more than to rush up to Magdalene’s room and reveal that he knew the truth.

  Wouldn’t that be the better route? Yet all he had to do was think back on how she had struggled and fought against Donella and Euna as the women had forced her up the stairs.

  Aye, he’d heard her nearly choking from crying, even though he had turned his back on her. Turned his back on her!

  Gabriel swallowed hard, feeling sickened again that he was guilty of treating her with such callousness. He nodded at Clovis. “Aye, I’ll do as you ask…but if I canna earn her trust—”

  “You’re a fine, honorable man, Laird,” Clovis broke in solemnly. “If she has any good sense about her, she will see what all of us see. Just give the lass some time.”

  Again, Gabriel nodded, and then turned to go back to his men until another thought struck him. Already Clovis had started to walk away, but he stopped, too, as if anticipating Gabriel’s query.

  “Clovis, you said you noticed something, but it took a few times until you were certain?”

  “Aye, Laird, a keenness in her eyes. I’m certain you’ve seen it, too, though mayhap you didna recognize it for what it truly was—and why would you? You thought her mad. So you were told and so you believed. My own sister was plagued by madness until the day she died, and never once was there any light in her eyes. Yet your wife…och, it amazes me the spirit she possesses tae have carried off such a ruse. If you want tae win her heart, Laird, be gentle with her. She’s a prize, indeed.”

  With that, Clovis turned and left Gabriel staring after him…even as Alun came striding over, heaving from exertion and sheathing his sword.

  “So that skinny bag of bones is displeased with you, aye? Wants you tae ease off on training for another week?”

  Gabriel didn’t answer, still watching Clovis, his heart strangely pounding.

  If you want tae win her heart, Laird, be gentle with her. She’s a prize, indeed.

  Aye, he wanted to win her heart—more than anything he had ever wanted in his life. All he could think of was seeing her again, hearing her voice again, looking into her beautiful sea green eyes again, God help him that he’d be able to encourage her to eat!

  “Gabriel?”

  He’d taken off at a run, only taking an instant to glance over his shoulder at Alun, who stared after him in confusion.

  “So we’re done with training today?”

  “Aye, Alun, done!”

  An hour later, no more, Gabriel felt as nervous as a youth, approaching the door that he hadn’t entered for a week.

  He’d given Tam’s sisters a stern command that at least one of them remain with her at all times and the door bolted to thwart any attempts at escape—fool! If Magdalene hated him even, he wouldn’t be surprised. So much to make amends for, a serving maid climbing the steps behind him with a tray bearing hot chicken soup and crusty slices of barley bread slathered with butter.

  He’d hastily eaten a slice in the kitchen, Gabriel ravenous from the morning’s rigorous labors, though he hadn’t allowed himself anything more. Not while Magdalene was going hungry, mayhap even feeling ill from lack of food—och, he couldn’t bear to think of it!

  Why hadn’t Donella or Euna come to him and let him know that she hadn’t eaten for two days? He blamed himself for that, too, no doubt having given them the impression that he didn’t care a whit if Magdalene starved herself or not.

  Heaving a disgusted sigh, Gabriel glanced at the storage room he had abandoned last week as his sleeping quarters.

  Nor had he allowed Rhona or Keira to visit Magdalene, though his nieces had besieged him with requests to do just that every day.

  He had failed altogether at his earlier resolve to try and reach her with patience—funny, that Clovis had echoed the same sentiment that Gabriel vowed now not to abandon, no matter what Magdalene might do.

  She wasn’t mad after all, just pretending to be. To protect herself. To do what she could to survive, Gabriel remembering suddenly the sunny sound of her laughter when she was a girl—but that had been before Debora’s death.

  He couldn’t blame Magdalene at all for the ruse she’d played for so long and so well, and he prayed that one day—not too far from now!—she might laugh as she had before when life hadn’t appeared so treacherous and threatening.

  Gabriel stopped at the door, swearing under his breath.

  He hadn’t forgotten about the family curse for one moment, though he pushed the danger to the back of his mind for now. He wanted to have hope for himself and Magdalene—and mayhap the curse had only been a terrible coincidence that had taken the lives of his grandmother, his mother, and Malcolm’s wife. It was possible, wasn’t it? Their deaths had been tragic accidents that could have happened to anyone.

  His grandmother Alyce breaking her neck when she tripped and fell down the stairs.

  His mother, Philesta, drowning in the lough during a swim.

  Anna, Malcolm’s poor wife, suffering the most gruesome death of all when her gown had caught fire in the kitchen.

  “Enough, man,” Gabriel rebuked himself, not wanting to think any more of death and dying. Not when he’d received the most astounding news he could have imagined from Clovis, though he had seen the keenness in Magdalene’s eyes, too.

  So had Finlay, who had commented upon it. Mayhap within another few days, Gabriel would have come to the same conclusion as Clovis…especially after seeing Magdalene’s tears in the great hall, though he’d had no idea what could have upset her.<
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  “No doubt something you did,” Gabriel said under his breath, raising his hand to knock upon the door. Yet all that was changed now. He would be gentle and patient and kind—

  “Aagh! She just kicked me, Donella! Look out, look out!”

  Chapter 12

  “What the devil…?” At the piercing sound of a scream and something crashing to the floor, Gabriel pounded upon the door, the damned thing bolted on the inside because of his command. “Euna! Donella! Open the door at once!”

  He heard a scuffling, grunts, and then another shriek, and someone fumbling wildly with the bolt as if in desperation. Then the door was thrown open, Euna’s round face a bright red and her chest heaving.

  “She’s gone mad, Laird—aye, even madder than before! Ah, God, look! She’s got Donella by the hair on the floor!”

  Gabriel did look, Magdalene and Donella wrestling with each other in a blur of arms and legs near the bed. He had never seen such a sight, and oddly, he almost felt like laughing to see his petite wife besting Tam’s stout sister—until Magdalene yanked so hard upon a fistful of hair that Donella shrieked in pain.

  “Get her off me! Euna! Laird MacLachlan—help me!”

  He did, rushing forward to pull Magdalene flailing and kicking off the flushed maidservant while Euna burst into tears.

  “She’s a horror, Laird—aye, we were only trying tae spoon some porridge into her mouth! She knocked the tray tae the floor and then jumped out of bed and kicked me! Then Donella grabbed her tae try and calm her down, but look at my poor sister!”

  Donella was a mess, Gabriel had to admit, but it was nothing to Magdalene, who struggled like a crazed thing in his arms.

  Except she wasn’t crazed, though she certainly looked the part from her tousled hair and her face as flushed as Tam’s sisters’. To his surprise, he felt laughter welling again—God help him, he wanted to roar with elation.