My Highland Warrior (Warriors of the Highlands Book 1)

by Miriam Minger

  At once she had bent down to embrace them, but Keira had whispered something in her ear and Magdalene had straightened again just as Gabriel had ordered her to take the girls to the garden.

  Och, Keira was a clever one, handling the whole scene so masterfully though so young!

  He wanted to give her a big hug himself, and little Rhona, too, and mayhap even Magdalene if she looked to welcome it. Aye, he could hope—

  “Laird, wait!”

  Groaning inwardly, Gabriel stopped in his tracks as Grania hurried to catch up with him.

  “Is it true, Laird? You gave that madwoman free run of the castle? I couldna believe my ears, and Euna and Donella refused tae allow me tae go after her when she ran outside with the bairns—och, those wretched women! They held me by the arms as if I was the lunatic!”

  Imagining the scene, Gabriel tried not to smile, knowing it would upset Grania further. She was the girls’ nurse after all, her charge to watch after them.

  “Aye, I gave that command. There’s no sense in keeping her locked up and miserable.”

  “Well, she didna look miserable at all when she swept into the hall as free as she pleased with those two hanging back behind her. Startled everyone, she did! My poor heart nearly stopped when Rhona jumped up from the table and ran to her—why, I feared your wife would squeeze the life from the wee bairn for how tightly she hugged her!”

  “It’s a good thing the girls care for her,” Gabriel said, continuing toward the garden as Grania had to double her pace to keep up with him. “It might help tae bring her round—”

  “Bring her round?” Grania echoed, clearly shocked, from the look on her face. “You canna bring a lunatic round as if it were a fever passing! It’s true she didna look like a madwoman eating and drinking as prettily as she pleased, though I feared she’d fling her cup at any moment and the soup bowl not far behind it—”

  “Grania, enough!”

  Stopping to face her again, Gabriel could hear giggles drifting from the garden that only made his impatience to reach Magdalene and his nieces all the keener.

  “My wife is no madwoman, do you hear me? It’s not common knowledge yet, and I’ll trust you not tae speak a word of this tae anyone—but she only played the lunatic because she didna want tae marry me. Her sister, Debora, was wed tae a cruel man and he put her in an early grave. Do you understand now how Maggie feared the same thing might happen tae her?”

  Grania nodded, though she stood still as if scarcely breathing, the strangest look upon her face. Yet it was her hazel eyes darkening that gave Gabriel pause, a coldness in them that hadn’t been there before.

  “So she’s no lunatic. One could have pity for a crazed soul…but if she’s not—”

  “Laird MacLachlan!”

  Again Gabriel groaned, this time aloud as Tam came hustling toward him.

  “I just heard you’re leaving at dawn, a summons from Earl Seoras—and there will be a feast! Shall I gather foodstuffs and other supplies? Will you be gone long? I’m sure he’ll expect that everyone invited contribute their part—”

  “Tam, I’ll be with you straightaway. Go now, I’ll find you!”

  The steward mopped his brow and bobbed his head, turning back the way he’d come. Gabriel saw that Grania had left him, too, the nurse not walking toward the garden but instead the great hall.

  Her head bowed, her shoulders slumped as if what he’d revealed to her about Magdalene wasn’t a cause for happiness, but misery.

  Mayhap she was thinking about the family curse, which was never far from Gabriel’s mind and chilled him, too. He could not bear to consider losing the woman he loved…

  Magdalene.

  His heartbeat quickening, Gabriel thrust away as best he could the weight of the curse as well as the many duties awaiting him, and strode toward the garden.

  Laughter floated to him, not girlish at all, and he knew at once it was Magdalene.

  A bright sound he hadn’t heard since he had stood guard as a young warrior in the MacDougall fortress—as if, like then, she didn’t have a care in the world.

  Was she trying simply to cheer his nieces after everything they had heard from Seoras’s messenger? Or mayhap it was something more…a change of heart, his prayers answered?

  Another burst of laughter from Magdalene made Gabriel slow his step and turn back toward the stable…for it was enough right now, just to hear it.

  Later, when he saw her face-to-face, the two of them finally alone, they would have a chance to talk before dawn came all too swiftly…

  Chapter 18

  “Och, you’ll wear a hole in these fine rugs,” Magdalene said to herself, pacing back and forth across the bedchamber.

  Yet what else could she do? She had never felt so nervous, so breathless!

  Surely Gabriel had attended to all the preparations that could be done before they left at dawn—for it had been Grania who had told her of his plan when the nurse had come to the garden to fetch the girls.

  Her demeanor not any friendlier than it had been from the start, mayhap even less so, though Magdalene could not fathom why.

  She’d not done anything to Grania other than to elicit her disapproval for her antics with Rhona and Keira, the hour spent with them in the garden a much needed balm to her racing thoughts. Even now, the same ones tumbled over and over in her mind as Magdalene paused at the fireplace to stare blindly into the flames.

  She would be accompanying Gabriel to the fortress she hadn’t seen in four years—such an unhappy place when she had left it and the last time she’d seen her father. Donal had wept as the nuns from Dumbarton coaxed her into the wagon, Magdalene swiping at imaginary butterflies and laughing like the mad fool she had pretended to be.

  Now Seoras was the earl there, and he was expecting Mad Maggie. Yet did it matter to him whether she was a lunatic or sane? He would have used her as a pawn either way, but why had he chosen Gabriel as her husband?

  She had thought him cut from the same log as Seoras, but he wasn’t like her brother at all. Fearsome-looking at first, Magdalene remembered so vividly when she’d laid eyes upon him, a dark-haired giant whom she had believed to be ruthless and cruel—for how could he not be with Seoras as his overlord?

  Yet Gabriel had proved himself to be anything but the brutish monster she’d feared—and now he was soon to join her, wasn’t he? The hour was late, Magdalene was certain past midnight.

  Her last glimpse of him had been through the door left ajar in the garden, her heart racing as he drew closer, only to stop and turn away. The girls had seen him, too, their faces crestfallen until she had grabbed their hands and begun to race with them along a winding path flanked by scraggly, untended rosebushes until they were flushed and laughing again.

  Magdalene had laughed, too, and collapsed with them onto the ground in a tangle of arms and legs and sweet kisses on her cheek, Rhona and Keira hugging her tightly. She loved the girls, she couldn’t deny it, her change of heart going so much deeper than she could have ever imagined.

  Yet now war loomed, bloodshed and death—och, it made her shudder just to think of it! She was not ignorant of the deadly feud between the Comyns and the Bruces, for she had heard about it from the mouth of Robert the Bruce himself!

  What would Gabriel think if he knew that his sworn enemy had saved her life and that of every nun at the convent last year—and that she’d secretly been a champion of King Robert’s claim to the throne from that very day? How could a man as honorable as Gabriel not take a stand himself for a rightful crowned ruler and fight instead for a brute like her brother?

  “Ah, God, all of this is impossible—impossible!” Magdalene spun around from the fire and gasped, her heart in her throat.

  Gabriel stood in the doorway, watching her. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t even heard him open the door!

  She could only stare at him, wide-eyed, as he stared back at her. His gaze drifted from her face to her bare feet, Magdalene gasping again tha
t she wore only her nightgown, her robe draped over a nearby chair. She had left it there in exasperation, all of her pacing making her feel overwarm and flushed—

  “What’s impossible, Maggie?”

  His voice so husky and deep, she felt overwarm all over again and opened her mouth to speak, but instead she could only gape at him.

  A desperate thought seizing her that it had been so much easier playing the lunatic than to stand as just herself in front of him, not Mad Maggie but Magdalene, with no idea what to say or what to do…

  “Shh, wife, ease yourself. It’s very late, I know. I would have come sooner, but there was much to do. Forgive me.”

  She saw it then, a weariness in his shoulders as he turned to shut the door and then faced her again, his gaze moving to the chair near the fireplace.

  “Would you mind if I sit and pull off my boots?”

  Startled that he would even ask her, Magdalene shook her head and moved closer to the bed, where she reached for the nearest poster. To steady herself, aye, for she trembled now as he walked to the chair with evident weariness, too. A low groan escaped him when he took a seat and merely sat there a moment before he unfastened his sword belt and set his weapon upon the floor.

  Still his gaze never left her, and she saw lines in his face that she’d never noticed before, her heart going out to him.

  Whether he supported Seoras or King Robert, the life of a baron wasn’t an easy one with so many men under his command and kinsmen depending upon him.

  Unbidden, her thoughts flew to her stunning revelation in the village…that Gabriel had taken her as his bride, a woman he believed to be a lunatic, because her dowry would ease the lives of so many. She couldn’t imagine a more selfless act, Magdalene letting go of the poster and walking toward him almost before she knew she’d taken a step.

  “May…may I help you?”

  Now he looked startled, Gabriel giving her only a slight nod as she sank to her knees in front of him and took a boot in her hands. With great care, she tugged it off slowly, imagining his feet must feel as sore as the rest of him was weary. Then the other boot, Magdalene focusing upon her task as she heard him exhale with relief.

  Only then did she look up to find him leaning back in the chair as if she had done him the greatest of service, though still he gazed at her, his eyes darkened to black in the firelight.

  She felt caught in them, mesmerized by them, Gabriel MacLachlan was truly the most handsome man she had ever beheld.

  “You’ve a kind heart, wife.”

  His voice was so gentle that she blushed deeply, even as she shivered, Gabriel reaching down to pull her up with him as he stood.

  “Only last night I feared I might lose you. Come, I dinna want you tae catch a chill.”

  He didn’t wait for her to walk with him, but swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed, Magdalene’s heart hammering in her breast.

  Still holding her, he leaned down and pulled back the covers with one hand and then settled her onto the linen-covered mattress. He wasn’t finished, though, but plumped the pillows behind her and swept up the covers to her shoulders, tucking them there.

  “I’ll tend tae the fire. Go tae sleep now, love. Dawn will come quickly enough and you’ve smudges under your eyes. At least you’ll have a few hours of rest.”

  Go tae sleep now, love.

  Had she dreamed that he just said those words? With all that had happened between them since he’d pulled her from the fountain at the convent, he wanted her to rest.

  Not to answer a myriad of questions about why she had acted the madwoman.

  Not to explain so many other things to him.

  Not to give herself to him as expected of any wife—and here their marriage was yet to be consummated!—but instead to get some sleep before tomorrow’s journey.

  That last thought made her blush all over again. She gasped softly when Gabriel leaned over her to cup her face with a battle-scarred hand, his thumb tracing the delicate skin beneath her eyes.

  “I would leave you here if I could, where I know you’d be safe. Your brother has demanded a hard thing from me—too hard a thing tae subject you tae ridicule and mockery. They dinna know what I know about you, but we’ve no time tae speak of it tonight. If it troubles you for me tae share the bed with you—”

  “No, Gabriel, stay.”

  His thumb went still, and now he was the one to suck in his breath, Magdalene knowing why.

  She had never said his name to him before, no, not once. Suddenly he leaned down further to press his lips to hers in so fervent a kiss that her own breath caught.

  Her heartbeat thundering.

  Her hands flying from beneath the covers to cradle his face even as he drew her up to crush her against him.

  Could so many things be forgiven just in a kiss? Oh, she hoped so—she hoped so!

  His low groan seemed an answer to her plea, his mouth growing hungrier, and now she found herself kneeling upon the bed.

  His strong arms so tight around her while hers flew around his neck. Wonder filled her, overwhelmed her as his kiss deepened, his tongue pressing into her mouth.

  She started at the new sensation, but returned his kiss with her tongue teasing his, which only made him groan louder and seem to shudder against her.

  “Ah, Maggie…Maggie.”

  He pulled away so abruptly to look at her, searching her eyes, her face, that Magdalene felt bereft now that he was no longer kissing her.

  She searched his face, too, his eyes so hungrily upon her, though they held a question that she sensed only she could answer.

  Breathless, she drew her arms from around his neck to press her hands to his face, her fingers caressing the hard planes of his cheekbones.

  He wanted her, his breathing ragged while she felt lightheaded from a yearning so powerful that she nodded as she traced a trembling finger across his lips.

  She wanted him, too, not knowing fully what was to come but that she longed to feel him kissing her, touching her, holding her…

  “Oh, Gabriel, can you ever forgive me?”

  She had barely whispered, tears filling her eyes as he pulled her against him once more, his fingers tunneling into her hair, his mouth nuzzling her ear.

  “There’s nothing to forgive, love. Nothing…”

  She shivered at the warmth of his breath, the strength of his arms around her. Yet she gasped when he spun her from the bed and then sat down with her straddling him, his hand between their bodies as he wrenched up his tunic.

  “It will be better this way, Maggie—swift so there’s less pain this first time. Do you trust me?”

  With him kissing her face, her neck, she murmured, “Aye,” though she began to tremble as his hands slid her nightgown above her hips until she was naked against him.

  Her bare thighs hugging his hips. His hand again sliding between them and his fingers finding the very heart of her, Magdalene crying out as he gently plied her there.

  At once he pressed his mouth to hers, whispering against her lips that there was nothing to fear.

  Whispering for her to open herself to him as Gabriel’s fingers teased her, coaxing broken moans from her until he was trembling, too.

  Trembling as his flesh pressed hard and thick at that place made wet and slick by his fingers, Magdalene overcome by sensations she’d never known before…never dreamed before.

  Yet those sensations were nothing to when he cupped her bottom and lifted her, thrusting himself into her.

  She cried out again, a flash of pain bursting like lightning against her closed eyelids even as she began to move with him…her hips meeting his upward thrusts with no conscious thought at all.

  Her arms winding around him, her fingers splayed upon his back and clutching at his tunic as the pain disappeared and something altogether more intense overwhelmed her.

  She shook from the power of it, Gabriel driving his body deeper into her as he swept his tongue into her mouth…everything in them melding
as he shook, too, groaning her name.

  “Maggie…”

  Another blinding burst of white light erupted as she cried out his name, too, all sensation centered at the place their bodies were joined together.

  A surging heat filling her as Gabriel shuddered against her while she moaned in a frenzy until she collapsed against him.

  Her head pressed to his shoulder, her tousled hair covering her face. Her uneven breathing lifting soft tendrils that must have tickled him for he chuckled deep in his throat.

  A low husky sound in spite of him breathing raggedly, too, though a few moments more and he lifted her from him and settled her once more upon the bed.

  She moaned in protest, the warmth of him gone, but he stripped off his clothes so quickly and rejoined her to pull her again into his arms and wrench the covers over them.

  At once she snuggled against his chest, breathing in his masculine scent even as he chuckled again.

  “Och, woman, you made me forget tae stoke the fire.”

  He shifted as if to leave her, but Magdalene clung to him and pressed a kiss above his heart, making him groan against her hair.

  “Very well, then, we’ll have tae keep each other warm.”

  “Aye, Gabriel, dinna leave me.” She pressed another lingering kiss there, his heartbeat strong and fierce against her lips…and she knew then that she loved him.

  Loved him!

  “I’ll never leave you, wife, not of my own doing. Rest now, Magdalene. Dawn will be upon us soon.”

  She scarcely heard him, the steady cadence of his breathing and the low drumming of his heart lulling her into sleep.

  Chapter 19

  Magdalene leaned closer against Gabriel, his hard leather armor reminding her of her first journey with him from the convent to MacLachlan Castle.

  Yet how much had changed since then! Instead of feeling sore from resisting him, she felt comforted by his armor—and protected.

  One powerful arm around her waist, his fingers splayed upon her stomach, while he ably steered his mount with his other hand.

  Several hours had passed since they had left at the pale light of dawn. His three captains rode directly behind them, followed by sixty warriors, some on horseback, some marching, while at the rear rumbled two horse-drawn carts loaded with supplies.