The Chieftain: A Highlander's Heart and Soul Novel

by Maeve Greyson

  She stared at him for a long moment. So long, he felt for sure she was about to defy him and the first heated argument of their short marriage would ensue. “I swear it,” she finally said in a strained tone then tiptoed and pressed an urgent kiss to his mouth. “Swear ye’ll come back for me,” she demanded, her lips and nose brushing his as she spoke.

  “I swear it,” Alexander answered, savoring the taste of her and wishing like hell there was a simpler way to do this.

  They filed out of the room, all of them taking their posts. Alexander flattened himself into an alcove next to the doorway where Duncan and Sutherland waited to silence Duff and Hew. On his way to the stairwell at the other end of the hallway, Ian paused at Calum’s door and pressed his ear against it for a long moment. Then he jerked away, gave Alexander a quick nod and sprinted down to his station.

  The latch to Calum’s door clicked. The squeaking of the hinges echoed down the quiet hallway. “They’ll be here soon. Get those lazy bastards off their arses and get this place clean. I’ll no' have the Campbell nor Crestshire reporting back to the king that I canna handle my clan.”

  Crestshire. Alexander knew the name well. Is that who headed the king’s new regiment? A cavalcade of emotions surged through him. He would have to think more on what that news could mean to their cause as soon as they settled this chore. A dagger in each hand, he rolled the smooth hafts of bone in his palms, readying for the kill. He held his breath as the sound of footsteps drew closer.

  Duncan and Sutherland sprang from their post. Duncan landed on Hew and Sutherland landed on Duff. The miscreants staggered and struggled, cursing and sputtering indignant roars as Duncan and Sutherland held fast until the two collapsed to the floor and went still.

  Alexander stepped out of the alcove, blocking Calum’s way as he spun around to escape Duncan and Sutherland approaching with their bloodied knives at the ready.

  “Attack! Attack!” Calum shouted as he bent low and spun, kicking Alexander in his weak leg with a slamming hard thrust of his boot against the newly healed wound.

  “Graham!” Alexander roared as his fickle leg buckled and took him down to his knees.

  Wild-eyed and mouth ajar, Calum stumbled back a step then vaulted around Alexander and headed down the hallway.

  Alexander rolled to a crouching position, flipped the daggers 'til he held them by the tips of their blades then let fly as hard as he could throw. One knife sank high into Calum’s left shoulder and the other blade buried deep into the right side of his lower back. Calum kept moving, hitching his way down the hall.

  “Graham, take the bastard! I’ve but nicked him.” Alexander itched to fire off a shot but forced himself to hold fast. They could still finish this without the sound of gunfire stirring all in the keep.

  Graham and Magnus charged toward the fray from opposite ends of the hallway but before they could reach Calum, the nursery room door flew open. Catriona burst into the hallway. She held the short sword that Alexander had given to Sawny raised high for a killing thrust.

  “Mistress!” Sawny shouted, following close behind her, snatching to get hold of her.

  “I mean to kill ye this time, bitch!” Calum screamed out an agonizing roar as he ripped one of Alexander’s daggers out of his back. As Catriona charged him with her blade raised, he dove toward her and stabbed the knife low into her side.

  Catriona cried out. The short sword fell from her hands as she and Calum tumbled backward and hit the floor together. With Catriona flat of her back, Calum reared back and stabbed her again before Alexander tackled him and the rest of his brothers closed in.

  “Ye son of a whore.” Alexander grabbed hold of Calum by the chin and the back of his head and snapped his neck with a hard jerking twist.

  “Mistress, no…no…no!” Sawny knelt beside Catriona, rocking on his knees as his clenched fists pounded his agony against his legs.

  Father William rushed to Catriona’s other side and dropped to the floor beside her, ripping away pieces of his robe and using them to staunch the flow of blood gushing from her wounds.

  Alexander crawled to Catriona and sank down beside her. Gently easing her head and shoulders atop his arm, he cradled her close as he scolded her in the softest tone he could manage. 'Twas the only way he knew to keep her conscious and stir her will to fight. “Stubborn woman. Look what ye’ve done to yourself by no' listening to what I told ye.”

  Face draining of color and eyes wide, Catriona struggled to speak as tears slipped from the outer corners of her eyes and trailed down her temples into her braids. “I’m verra sorry, husband,” she whispered with a weak gasp. “I feared he was…”

  “Shh…” Alexander kissed her clammy forehead then nestled his cheek against her. “I know what ye feared well enough.” He caught Father William’s eye, gave a pointed look toward Catriona’s wounds, then locked eyes once again with the priest. Tell me she’ll live, he mouthed.

  Father William gave him the lightest of shrugs then looked skyward. “God’s hands,” he whispered then crossed himself.

  “I’ll get… I’ll get,” Sawny hiccupped from the other side of Catriona.

  “Ye’ll get what, Sawny?” 'Twas all he could do to speak in a civil tone to the boy. How the hell had Catriona gotten hold of the sword he’d entrusted to Sawny? “What, boy? Tell me.”

  Sawny lifted his red tear-stained face to Alexander then dragged his sleeve across his nose and face. “I’ll run fetch the healer, Mrs. Bickerstaff. I willna let anyone stop me, I swear it.”

  “Can ye shoot a gun?” Alexander twisted and ripped his gun out of his belt. He handed it to Sawny, butt first, but held tight to the barrel until Sawny answered him. “Can ye shoot?”

  “Aye,” Sawny swore with conviction as he yanked the pistol out of Alexander’s hand and rose to his feet. “I willna fail ye this time. I swear it on me mam’s grave.” He turned and bolted down the hallway.

  “God go with that boy,” Father William murmured as he kept both hands pressed hard on Catriona’s wounds and returned to mumbling silent prayers, lips moving as he closed his eyes.

  “Alexander,” Catriona hitched out in a weak whisper.

  “Aye, love.” Alexander held her closer while his brothers, cousins, and dearest friend in all his life knelt around them. He softly stroked Catriona’s cheek and her eyes flickered open wider. “Stay with me, Catriona. Dinna ye dare leave me in this cruel world all alone.”

  Catriona blinked, her forehead wrinkling with pain as she shuddered and coughed. “I’m here, husband, but I’m so verra cold.”

  Magnus stripped off his cloak quicker than any of the others could remove their coats and draped it across her. Father William kept his bloody hands in place under the cloak.

  “Better, love?” Alexander pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, her salty tears wetting his lips. “Warmer now?”

  “Aye,” she whispered with a trembling smile as her eyes closed.

  “What have ye done to ma wee lassie?” Mrs. Aberfeldy cried out as she emerged from the stairway and hurried toward them. Her steps slowed, and she faltered as she reached Calum’s body. Her plump face wrinkled and twisted with grief. “And my poor laddie,” she whispered. “God love him and forgive him.”

  With a shake of her head and clutching both hands to her breast, she rushed to Catriona. “His own sister,” she whispered. “May God forgive him.” Her distraught look hardening with determination, Mrs. Aberfeldy clapped her hands and stood as tall as her round body would allow. “Hie to the kitchen and tell Cook ye need the litter we keep in case someone falls ill.” She grabbed hold of Sutherland by the ear and pulled him to his feet. “Hie with ye now. Run, boy! I’ll no' have my dear sweet lassie lying on this hard floor to suffer her wounds like a felled deer.”

  “Old woman!” Knocking her hand from his ear, Sutherland looked to Alexander. “The old cow makes sense. I’ll fetch the litter and we can move her to her bed 'til the healer gets here, aye?”

  “Aye,” Alex
ander agreed. He didna give a damn what they did. Only two things mattered right now: him staying at Catriona’s side and keeping her alive.

  Alexander ignored Mrs. Aberfeldy’s continued squawking, intent on Catriona and stroking the silk of her cheek. “Open your eyes, sweetness,” he begged. “I fear ye’ve left me when ye close them.”

  “I’m no' but resting,” Catriona said with a soft sigh. Her eyelids fluttered open the least bit and she seemed to struggle to focus on Alexander’s face.

  “Once ye’ve healed,” Alexander said, determined to keep her talking. “We need to be about the business of making a bairn or two. What say ye?”

  A wan smile trembled on Catriona’s lips as her eyelids dipped then opened wider. “Twins. A pair of boys. Aye?”

  “Aye,” Alexander agreed. “A pair of sons just might make up for your stubbornness and the scare ye’ve put into me this day.”

  “I didna think…” her voice trailed off and her eyes closed.

  “Ye didna think what, love?” Alexander lifted her closer and stroked her cheek faster. “Catriona—speak to me, lass. Ye didna think what?”

  To his profound relief, Catriona opened her eyes, looked confused for a moment, then smiled. “Fear. I didna think ye feared anything.”

  “Ye are wrong, Catriona,” Alexander whispered as her eyes closed again. “I fear losing ye, m'love. I canna bear the thought of facing this life without ye.”

  “Always and forever, my husband. Always be with ye,” Catriona promised in a breathy whisper without opening her eyes. “This life…and the next…swore it. Remember?”

  “This life, Catriona,” Alexander said, not caring that hot tears filled his eyes and burned down his cheeks. “Dinna give up on this life. I beg ye.”

  Sutherland burst from the stairwell with the litter clutched in one hand. A pair of white-capped maidservants scurried after him, their arms piled high with linens. Four scullery lads toting steaming hot kettles of water followed the maids. As the servants filed by, they spared worried glances at Catriona and Alexander, before rushing to the stairwell and ascending to the next floor.

  With a clap of his hand to Alexander’s shoulder, Sutherland gave him a grim smile. “The word of their freedom is traveling fast, brother, and all appear to be taking the news verra well.”

  None of that mattered now. All that mattered was Catriona.

  Alexander bent and kissed her forehead then whispered against her skin. “I’ve got to move ye a wee bit, lass, so we can get ye to your bed, aye?”

  A cold, icy hand of dread twisted his heart when she didn’t respond. With a hard swallow, he pressed his face close to the end of her nose and her parted lips. He thanked God in Heaven above when he felt her breathing brush against his face. She yet lived. As long as she lived, he wouldna give up hope.

  Sliding his arms beneath her, he eased her onto the litter. He walked beside her as Sutherland and Graham carried her between them up the stairs to the next floor. Mrs. Aberfeldy and three maids were already scurrying about the room. One stoked the fire while another swung more kettles from the irons on the hearth and set them to boil. The smallest of the three lasses ripped linens into bandages and stacked them on the table beside the bed.

  Yanking the comforter and layers of blankets to the foot of the bed, Mrs. Aberfeldy waved the men forward. “Easy now, lads. Settle her with care.”

  Alexander shifted Catriona from the litter to the bed then stepped back. Father William stood at the foot of the bed, rosary beads in one hand, cross in the other, still mouthing fervent silent prayers.

  “Out with ye now,” Mrs. Aberfeldy took hold of Alexander’s arm as she shooed the priest and the other men from the room. “Out with ye whilst I cut that dress away and get her ready for Elena.”

  “I’ll no' be leaving, old woman.” If she valued her life, the fickle housekeeper had best heed his tone. Catriona had told him she no longer kent where Mrs. Aberfeldy’s allegiances fell. She wouldna tell him why she felt that way. Seemed almost ashamed to speak of it. But if Catriona didna trust the woman, then neither did he and he’d be damned if he’d leave his dear sweet love alone with her.

  Mrs. Aberfeldy released his arm as though the touch of it burned her hand. Her eyes flared wide and reflected the alarm that Alexander had intended to instill in her. “Aye then,” she said with a meek bob of her head as she lowered her gaze. “As ye wish.”

  Father William gathered the rest of the men and herded them all out the door. “Come, my brothers. We’ll give our lady the privacy she deserves and say our prayers in her sitting room.”

  Alasdair and Ian left but Sutherland, Duncan, Graham, and Magnus stood firm, all with their attention trained on Alexander.

  “What say ye, brother?” Graham asked.

  Alexander nodded. “I’ll be at her side but if ye’ll stay close and pray for m’lady’s healing, I’d be most grateful.”

  “'Twill be done,” Graham said then the four men filed out the door.

  Chapter 20

  A soft rap on the door interrupted his restless dozing. He drew his pistol and dagger. Who dared? Without a sound, he rose from the chair beside Catriona’s bed and pressed the back of one hand to her bare arm lying on top of the covers. Still cool to the touch. Good. No sign of fever yet. Old Elena had feared fever might set in due to the depth of the wounds. Tucking his dagger into the front of his belt but keeping his pistol aloft, he used his free hand to snug her arm under the covers and kissed her forehead before going to the door.

  He paused with a finger on the latch then drew back and tightened his grip on the pistol. Clan Neal had yet to win back his trust. He would take no risks with Catriona. “Who knocks?”

  “'Tis Munroe Neal, sir. I’ve brought the lady’s brothers to see her.”

  Alexander paused. If memory served, Catriona’s fifteen-year-old brother Angus had been Calum’s shadow and well on his way to becoming as arrogant and cruel as his mentor. He glanced back at Catriona, unresponsive as she’d been since the ill-planned attack. “Visitors are ill-advised. Perhaps in a few days’ time but no’ today.”

  “Would ye be willing to come out and speak to us, sir?” Munroe asked through the door. “I ken ye dinna wish to overtax your lady or leave her, but if ye’d see fit to come out and meet with us here in the lady’s sitting room for but a wee moment, 'twould be most appreciated.”

  Where the hell were his men? They’d camped out in the attached sitting room whilst he’d stayed at Catriona’s side. Alexander heard the scuffling of feet and whisperings of muffled voices outside the door. He sensed ill-will a comin’. ’Twas a trap for certain. Alexander drew his dagger from his belt then cocked his pistol. He flipped the lock on the door with the tip of the sword and stepped back. “Open the door.”

  “Beg pardon, sir?” Munroe said.

  “Open the door. I’ve unlocked it.”

  “Aye, sir.” The door eased open into the sitting room, revealing a short, squat wizened old man and Catriona’s nine-year-old twin brothers craning their necks around the elder’s round body to see their sister.

  Munroe Neal’s watery blue eyes widened, and his bushy brows jumped near to his grizzled hairline. “S-sir?” His nervous stutter hissed and broke as his gaze locked on the barrel of the gun. “We mean no harm.” He lifted trembling hands, stretching his plump fingers wide. He scowled down at the young boys inching toward the open door and yanked them both back behind him. “I bear no arms and neither do the bairns. I swear it.”

  “Graham! Duncan!” Alexander shouted, not trusting the old man or the young boys. He’d take no foolish risks.

  Father William threw open the outer door to the sitting room and hurried to him. With a congenial nod to Munroe and the two boys, he pushed past them then stopped short when his nose came even with the end of the gun. His perplexed attention shifted to Alexander. “Alexander! Whatever vexes ye, man?”

  “Where is everyone?”

  “I told them to go walk about.” He scow
led at Alexander, pressed two fingers atop the gun barrel, and pushed it downward. “They've grown a mite surly from being cooped up. I told them I’d stand watch.”

  Alexander nodded toward the old man and two boys still standing in the door. “Ye failed, priest.”

  “I did not!” Father William drew himself up to his full scrawny height and fixed Alexander with a shaming scowl. “I searched them for weapons and asked them about their business before letting them in.” He gave Alexander a quick up and down glare then huffed. “I thought ye might could handle an old man and two wee lads on your own. Shall I fetch your brothers to come and assist ye?”

  “Dinna make me sin even more than I already have, priest.” Alexander had never backhanded a priest nor cursed at one but at the moment his stains upon his soul were no' his greatest concern. Fraught with weariness and worry, he couldna guarantee his actions would remain civil toward anyone. He disarmed the pistol but kept it in his hand as he sheathed his dagger. “Stand watch and pray over Catriona, if ye would, aye?”

  “Aye,” Father William said with a conciliatory smile. He waved a hand toward the sitting room and nodded. “See to your guests. I’ll watch over the lady.”

  Alexander entered the sitting room, closed the bedroom door behind him, then took a defensive stance in front of it. He folded his arms across his chest and cradled the pistol in the crook of his elbow where it couldna fail to be noticed.

  “We’d never hurt our Catriona,” said one twin, perhaps the one called Murray. With matching mops of flaming red hair and identical freckled faces, Alexander couldna tell the two wee imps apart.

  “She’s like our mam,” the other twin said, puffing out his narrow chest and jutting his chin forward in the fiercest threatening scowl a nine-year-old could muster. “We came to make sure ye’re watching over her proper or we’ll be setting matters right, we will.”

  “Dougal. Murray. Mind your manners and go over there and sit whilst I speak with Mr. MacCoinnich.” Munroe encouraged the boys with a slight shove in that direction.