by Pride, Mia
“I offered for yer hand, Mary, and ye rejected me! Ye chose William over me. I was in the hall when yer brother broke down yer door, only nobody ever pays attention to sickly, pock-faced Stephan Irvine! But the Black Douglas did! He sees me. He understands what drives a man. We made an agreement, and I wrote to yer brother. Once the Hamiltons arrived, they would turn against the Irvines. Then, the Keiths would turn against them when they discovered an Irvine killed Brian. The Black Douglases would turn when they were accused of the murder. And when it was all over, the Irvines would pay in blood, and William would die for daring to take what is mine. I will make ye my wife, and we shall live safely on their lands. After all, I am Douglas.”
His last words made her brows lower in confusion, and Stephan sighed with contempt. “Ye never cared to ask about me, did ye? Ye only ever spoke of yer Hamilton kin, but ye never cared to ask about mine. My father was cast out, accused of a crime he didnae commit. My Uncle Archibald was involved in the plot to kill the king’s eldest son, placing the current regent closer to the throne. Then, he had the other son captured and sent to England where he still resides today… our verra own King James,” Stephan said with contempt.
“Those men were Archibald’s brothers by marriage, but gaining power means everything to a Black Douglas. Now, thanks to his help, he has the backing of the regent and can achieve anything. But first, he needed to place the blame elsewhere and his own brother, my father, was too weak to defend himself when the fingers pointed to him and cast him out,” Stephan sneered and appeared disgusted by the thought of his own father.
“The Irvines took us in out of pity, kenning he was innocent, but they never truly cared about me. Nobody did… until now. My uncle sees my potential. He told me if I helped him weaken the clans, making his eventual takeover easier, he would offer me a place once more amongst the Black Douglas Clan, where I always belonged. Marjorie is my cousin!” He laughed as if he had made a fine jest, and Mary knew then that there was nothing left of the Stephan she had once known as a child. His illness must have rotten his soul. “I only fought in that tournament to make certain I wasnae nearby when the body was found.”
Mary shook her head, the pounding in her skull nearly blinding her as she tried to absorb all he confessed to. The hatred in his soul felt like a living, breathing entity surrounding them within the confines of the cart. Mary listened in horror, never having known Stephan was truly so demented by jealousy. He had gone to great lengths to hurt innocent people, just to have her. A wave of sickness choked her just as a cramp gripped her belly. What if succumbing to Stephan was the only chance she had to survive this, to save her child? Nothing was more important to her than keeping him safe and she would sacrifice everything to do so. She dared to ask, desperate to know how to proceed. “What of my bairn, Stephan? Ye had vowed to raise him as yer own… he will be here soon enough.”
“Do ye truly believe I would raise the child of the man who took ye from me? A constant reminder of all yer betrayals? Once the bairn is born, its body can be buried in the snow and eaten by the wolves for all I care, much like the priest I had to kill to get the key to the kirk.”
How could he speak of killing a bairn and a priest with so little emotion? Tears streamed down from Mary’s eyes and she clutched her abdomen, petrifying terror causing her to tremble. “Ye are sick in the head, Stephan. A madman… ye are full of the devil, ye are…” She would die in this cart. He would slit her throat if she never agreed to marry him, and there was no way to escape. Either way, her child would die. Shaking all over, Mary slid down the side of the cart and tucked herself into a ball, having no more energy or ideas. She was truly stuck with a demon in this cart, and her head felt ready to explode from the pain her wound caused.
Kneeling in front of her, Stephan gently tucked her hair behind her ear and swiped a tear off her chin, touching it to his tongue and closing his eyes. Mary cringed at the odd delight he took in tasting her tears and tried to turn away, but he gripped her chin with his fingers and forced her to look at him. “I saw William with his hands all over what belongs to me. I heard ye claim to be betrothed to him, heard James say he was bringing ye to Alexander. I followed behind. Nobody sees me. Ye dinnae see me.” Stephan narrowed his eyes on Mary, and the smile slid from his face. Holding her breath, she awaited the ensuing attack. “Ye see me now, dinnae ye, Mary, my love? And now ’tis time to make ye mine.”
Grabbing her legs, Stephan pulled them out from beneath her, forcing her onto her back. “Nay! She kicked with all her strength, but she had little left. Her mind was warning her to give in to him, to allow him to believe she had succumbed so she could strike when he was not prepared. If his guard was down, she could run. Yet, her body rejected his touch. His very nearness made her recoil with disgust.
He pinned down her legs and she knew it was over. She would not win this battle, and James would wage his own battle on the innocent Irvines. He would not arrive before she was already gone, and William would be lost to her forever.
“Please… dinnae hurt my bairn, Stephan. I will marry ye. Just… dinnae hurt my bairn.” Her body went limp as all the fight left her. If she had a chance of saving her child, this was it. Fighting him had done her no good and would only lead to disaster. She had already lost everyone she had ever loved. Losing her child was not a reality she would accept. Closing her eyes, she felt the darkness clawing at her, determined to pull her under.
“Get yer hands off of my sister!” The cover of the cart was slashed through with the tip of a sword and Mary screamed, forcing her eyes open and scrambling to the back of the cart the moment Stephan loosened his grip on her legs.
Was she bleeding so profusely from the head that she was imagining her brother? When his face appeared, her vision wavered, and she felt as if she would be sick. “James?”
He did not respond, but as he reached into the cart and dragged Stephan out by his tunic, Mary gripped her heart, knowing she was not hallucinating.
“Mary!” The familiar voice of the man she loved floated to her ears and, once again, she questioned her sanity. But when he jumped into the back of the cart and wrapped her in his strong embrace, the familiar scent of his skin and feel of his flesh told her she was not imagining his presence.
“Will?” Her voice was weak and though she tried to keep her head upright, it lulled to the side, resting on his shoulder.
“Ye’re bleeding!” Panic shook his voice, but she simply made a sound of agreement and closed her eyes, finally safe in his arms and giving in to the sleep that beckoned her.
Chapter Ten
Arriving at the kirk, William immediately jumped off his horse, a bone-deep wave of dread rolling through him like a wave pulling him under. The entrance was open and several priests held candles, scanning the area for something… or someone.
James was right behind him, obviously having the same ominous thoughts. “Where is my sister?”
One priest slowly walked over to them with worry creasing his elderly face, wringing his hands together. “We are looking for her, Sir James. She… is gone.”
“What do ye mean? She wouldnae have left, not in her condition!” William looked at James and scowled. “This is yer doing! Ye forced her to come here!”
Scanning the area, James shook his head. “Aye. ’Tis my fault. I was cruel and unrelenting. I threatened to take her child away if she wouldnae marry Stephan.”
“Ye… ye arenae deserving of her love! Ye would threaten such a thing?” Anger welled up inside William, a red haze clouding his vision. Shoving James with all his strength, he watched as her brother stumbled back, then charged at him, knocking William to the ground.
“I wouldnae have had to do it if ye could have kept yer hands off my sister, ye bastard!” James swung his right fist, connecting with William’s gut.
“We are betrothed!” William shot back, not willing to allow the pain in his stomach to stop him from giving James what he deserved. Rolling over, he brought James with him, la
nding on top, planting his fist into the man’s jaw. “I love yer sister and would never dishonor her as ye have! I would never put her in danger as ye have!” Pulling his arm back, he prepared to connect with James’ face once more, before he heard the priest release a deafening whistle, making both men instantly stop and look up at the man.
“Sir James, we are afraid for her life. We dinnae believe she ran away. We heard a scream from the cathedral, but when we searched the area, all we found was the open back door to the gardens and a sheet on the ground near an effigy. When we sought out the priest with that key, he wasnae to be found.”
“What are ye saying?” William groused as he got off the snow-covered ground, putting a hand out for James. Her brother scowled at him and narrowed his eyes in warning, but he took the peace offering and stood beside William.
“Why would she scream from the cathedral area? Did she not have a private chamber?” James asked with accusation in his voice. “Did the priest do something to her?”
“Nay! Father Benedict wouldnae hurt her, I vow. We believe she was visiting the effigy of a man she had asked about, Sir Alexander Irvine. We told her it was in the transept, which is where the scream seemed to originate. But, she wasnae to be found.”
William’s gut churned and not from the blow her brother had given him. She still loved Alexander. She had been visiting him and likely pining for the man she loved and lost, whispering sweet sentiments to his likeness. She did not love him, and he had been a fool to ever believe she would. Her love for Alexander was too great, her loss too fresh. She would marry him, aye, but for no other reason than protection and security for her child. Those reasons had been satisfactory to him only days ago, but now he wanted more from Mary. He wanted her to look at him the way she looked when she spoke Alexander’s name. He wanted her to whisper words of love to him in the dark. He wanted her to carry his child.
William was jealous of a dead man. The realization nearly blinded him. They had shared their bodies, created a connection he had never known with any woman. He had meant everything he said to her hours before. Mary was the most beautiful woman he had ever known and though he would make her his wife and raise her child, loving them both endlessly, she would silently love another man. The thought made his stomach go sour.
An older woman wearing the clothing of a nun ran out of the kirk shaking her head and wringing her hands with worry. “We cannae find her, Father Benjamin. I vow the last I saw of her was when I showed her to her room.”
“Have the grounds been searched?” James asked, a mixture of anger and fear threading his voice.
“Of course, they have!” the priests replied with exasperation. The kirk surely was not used to so much chaos penetrating its peaceful existence.
Stepping closer to James, William rubbed his beard and narrowed his eyes. “’Tis Stephan. I ken it. He killed the missing priest, stole his key, and took Mary,” he whispered. Turning to the priest, William asked, “Was there anyone else in the kirk? Any visitors?”
“I demanded nobody else be allowed to enter,” James warned.
“Ye demanded that, aye, Son, but ’tis not yer place to tell us our business. If a man comes to seek sanctuary, we willnae turn him away. That isnae God’s will. This is His house, not yers. As it happens, no man, except for ye, has arrived here since Mary.”
The nun tittered beside the priest and made the sign of the cross. “There was a man, Father. The one who arrived before Mary…”
“What did he look like?” William shouted at the nun and she jumped. He had not meant to frighten her, but his nerves were causing him to shake and lose control of himself.
“He was dark,” she whispered ominously, looking around as if fearing the very devil himself was lurking in the shadows. “Not only in his features but in his soul. I felt it. He came asking for sanctuary. We cannae turn away any man, ye ken. His room was in another building and I didnae believe Mary was in danger.”
“He took her!” William demanded. “Stephan took her!”
“The cart!” James hollered. “I left the cart in the woods so I could transport her back! Did ye see a cart?” he asked the priests.
“Nay, we saw no cart, Sir James.”
Growling and clenching his fists, James took off at a run toward the back of the kirk, and William followed, his heart in his throat as he thought about that madman having Mary in his control. Sharp, barren twigs covered in ice lashed at his arms and face as he maneuvered through the thickly wooded landscape, but nothing was going to stop William from finding Mary. Dread and doubt crept into his mind like poison. What if she was not found or worse, they found her and she was dead? Nay. He willed those thoughts out of his head. They did him no good and he did not suspect that Stephan would go through all this trouble just to kill her.
Coming to a sudden halt, James turned and put his finger to his lips, pointing with his other hand. “The cart is still there.”
The ground was covered in snow, the pure white reflecting off the rays of the early morning sun just creeping over the horizon. Squinting into the blinding terrain, he saw the cart in the distance and nodded to James.
Taking careful step by careful step, the hackles on the back of his neck rose when he saw the cart shake and heard Stephan’s muffled voice, followed by a thud.
The snow crunched beneath their boots, but William trudged forward, determined to get to her and kill Stephan if he had harmed Mary.
“Please… dinnae hurt my bairn, Stephan. I will marry ye. Just… dinnae hurt my bairn.” Her words were full of desperation as they drifted to his ears, and numbing fear attacked his every sense. Apparently, James heard her plea as well, taking off at a run that matched William’s. His feet moved faster than they ever had in his life, as did his heart.
Drawing his sword, James slashed through the cloth covering the cart, shouting at Stephan to get off his sister. Just as William was preparing to enter the cart and slit Stephan’s throat for daring to harm Mary, James reached inside and ripped the man out by his tunic. When he fell to the ground with a thud and a grunt, William wished to end the man’s life immediately, but he knew James could handle it alone, and he needed to make sure Mary was not harmed.
Hopping into the cart, he saw her and his stomach dropped. Lying on her back, Mary’s dress was bunched around her knees as she held her head and kept her eyes closed. Her face looked too serene for a woman in peril, and warning bells rang in his spinning mind.
“Mary!” William lifted her into his arms, wrapping her in his embrace. When her head lulled to the side and she whispered his name and opened her eyes, he placed a hand under her head to support it and felt a warm stickiness coating his palm. “Ye’re bleeding!”
Making a small sound, Mary closed her eyes once more and went completely limp. “Mary? Mary!” Gently shaking her, William could not get her to respond. Putting his cheek up to her mouth, he felt her warm breath and knew she was alive. But, she was injured, and fear for her and the child gripped him like a vise.
The sound of struggling outside the cart pulled his attention away for a moment. He wanted to help James but feared for Mary if he left her alone. Her wound needed to be bandaged. Sticking his head out of the cart opening, he saw James pinning Stephan face down in the snow, his knee planted into the man’s back as he held his arms behind him. “Is Mary all right?” James shouted when he looked up at William. All William could do was shake his head and turn his attention back to her. Tearing off a piece of his plaid, William tied it around her head to put pressure on her wound.
“Mary… I am so sorry, love.” She murmured something in response, and relief flooded him. She was conscious. “We will get ye away from here, I vow. Ye are safe now.” With her eyes still shut, Mary moved her weak hand to touch his face, stroking his beard before dropping her arm to her side.
The cart rocked and dipped in the back as James stepped in, looking at him and Mary with a creased brow. “I cannae kill the bastard. He is unarmed,” James growled
. “I tied up his arms with my plaid, but we need to get back to Drum and let Robert deal with him. Mary? Sister… I am so verra sorry. I failed ye.”
Moving her head, Mary winced. “Dagger… boot…”
Dropping his brow, William stroked her cheek. “I think she is saying Stephan has a dagger in his boot. The fact that she kens that is disturbing.”
“Nay, I checked his boots. He must have dropped it. He has no weapons and is now tied to a tree.”
“Leave him there to rot!” William groused through his clenched teeth. “I ken he killed Brian.”
“Then he will pay for his deeds. He is Robert’s responsibility. I willnae kill an unarmed man, Will.”
A piercing scream shook the cart from within, and William took Mary in his arms once more as she writhed, gripping her belly. “William!”
“Everything is all right, love,” he soothed, but she shook her head and gritted her teeth. He knew she was having her pains once more, and he took her hand in his. She bore down with a crushing strength that shocked him.
When the pain passed, Mary went limp once more and closed her eyes. “She is nearing her time,” James said with a frown.
“I ken it. She should be at Drum, not stuffed into a cart with a bleeding head wound,” he shot back and scowled at her brother. “That man out there…” William pointed outside the cart. “He is the man ye would prefer Mary to wed, aye?”
James ignored his words and looked at his sister. “Mary… I am a cursed fool. I dinnae deserve ye.”
“We will get ye back to Drum right away and have Elizabeth and Matilda tend to ye. All will be well,” William assured, stroking her arms and wrapping the rest of his torn plaid around her body. Freezing air seeped into the cart, and her shaking limbs concerned him.
