Shocking her, he pulled her against him and held her tightly. “What am I going to do with ye?”
After a few moments, Merida couldn’t help but relax, allowing his strength to seep through. If it were just the two of them, without clan controversy, without the feud, she would find it very easy to fall in love with this man. However, their situation was much too difficult to traverse. There were too many dividers.
“Ye must allow me to return to my clan,” Merida said softly. “Tis for the best.”
He grunted, which didn’t make it clear to her if he agreed or not, so she continued. “Under different circumstances, I would not object to being yer wife. I think we would be good together…”
“Stop talking.” Tristan grunted again. “I am losing blood and will fall off this horse if I don’t concentrate on getting us back.”
It was then she noticed he was sweating profusely, his face pale. However, his unwavering strength continued to astound her. He pushed the horse to go a bit faster until the keep came into view. Then he made a signal and several men on horseback rode toward them.
“Take her,” Tristan said to the first man rode up. “Be with care, she is injured.”
Just as she settled against the guard who held her steady, Tristan fell from his horse, hitting the ground with a loud thump.
*
Tristan opened his eyes to find he was in his bedroom. He immediately sat up and regretted it when the room spun. After a few moments, things stopped spinning and he could look around properly.
Merida sat next to the bed, her right leg propped up onto a stool. She watched him silently.
The healer and Elspeth stood next to the bed. Elspeth smiled at him. “Happy to see ye awake.”
It took him a moment to get his bearings, to recall what happened earlier. “How long have I been here?”
His wife was the one to respond, her gaze moving across his bare chest. “It is late in the day. Ye lost a lot of blood.” When her eyes moved from the center of his chest to meet his, it was as if she touched him.
Thankfully, the healer cleared his throat and brought their attentions back to the matter at hand. “I suggest ye eat well and rest to gain yer strength…”
“My uncle?” he interrupted the man. “How does he fare?”
Elspeth neared and gave him an understanding look. “He is faring well, has woken and spoke to us. We feel he will recover promptly.”
“Ye should be there with him and not here. I do not require attention.”
Merida and Elspeth exchanged glances. Tristan couldn’t decipher whether they were friends or foes.
Elspeth nodded. “Aye, we have been with him all day. Tis that I had just walked in to speak to Merida when ye woke.”
Throwing the sheets away and sliding to the edge the bed, he ignored the fact he was completely nude. “I am well. I have to speak to my brother.”
“Be with care when ye stand,” the healer said, already heading to the door, a flushed Elspeth behind him. They walked out.
Merida looked down at a book she held, seeming to have already forgotten his presence. But she slid a look to him and then back to the book. “If ye fall, I cannot be of assistance.”
Deciding it was best not to make a fool of himself, Tristan stood slowly. The room didn’t spin this time, but only swayed a bit. Once he was steady, he sought a clean pair of breeches and a tunic.
When he was finally fully dressed, he studied Merida for a moment until she raised her gaze to him.
“Has last meal been served?”
“Nay, tis not that late as yet.”
“I must speak to my brother. Ye and I will talk later.”
A strange chasm had materialized between them and he wished it would disappear. She didn’t seem inclined pay him any mind. Quite the opposite, she had a calm appearance. His heartbeat picked up at the thought of reaching for her.
“Would ye send Elsa in please? She should be outside the door.”
Tristan nodded. In the hallway, sitting on a chair, was Merida’s companion. She immediately stood at seeing him, her eyes wide.
“Yer mistress requires ye,” Tristan told her. “I will send a servant with food for ye both.”
“Thank ye,” the meek woman said, scurrying around him and into the room, slamming the door behind her.
Once he spoke to Malcolm and saw how his uncle fared for himself, he would make a final decision about what to do with Merida. She was his wife and the protector in him raged that he should not forsake her at any time. However, would it be more dangerous to keep her by his side?
At the bottom of the stairs, servants hurried to and fro preparing for last meal. He hated to have lost the entire day, especially if his brother had made decisions regarding what would happen next.
With only a few sconces that held candles for light, the dimness of the hallway seemed to help keep Tristan steady as he made his way to the sick rooms.
Inside the sparse room outfitted with only a bed, two chairs and a table, he found his brother seated next to the bed. In it, his uncle had been propped up with pillows. He remained pale, but his gaze seemed clear. His uncle and brother spoke in low tones and Tristan took a moment to study them.
Malcolm wore the title of laird well, his sense of honor always at the forefront. The formidable warrior had settled easily into the task of lording over the clan. Although not prepared for the sudden death of their father, he lorded over the clan with fair and impartial decision-making.
As long as Tristan could remember, Uncle Gregor had been an advisor to the clan. Without him, surely they would be adrift. His uncle’s resemblance to his father was astonishing and, while comforting at times, it made it harder to accept the loss of his father.
The men stopped talking when his uncle looked to the door. When their gazes met, it was as if his uncle read his mind. “I am well and will recover. I do not plan to leave ye or yer brothers anytime soon.”
Tristan nodded, unable to form a sentence. Malcolm looked him over from head to feet and back up. “Are ye well enough to be about?”
“I am not a child…” Tristan began, but had to stop when the room went sideways and he had to lean on the doorway for support. “We need to talk.”
His brother stood and motioned for Tristan to sit. “Aye, we do. This attack…how did they know ye would be traveling through the area. From what Uncle says, the road ye took was not the usual way.”
Tristan sat in the chair Malcolm emptied. “Aye, we never traveled on McLeod lands. I ensured it. I believe someone got word out. Possibly a McLeod who is unhappy with the marriage.”
Malcolm let out a loud breath. “No one is dancing with joy at the joining of our clans. I certainly doubt yer new bride is since she ran off the first chance she got.”
Tristan felt the need to defend his wife. “Merida realizes there may never be peace between our clans and prefers to return to her home and family.”
It surprised Tristan when his uncle also defended Merida. “The lass is not a weakling. She is a strong, independent lass. However, she is intelligent as well and would not do anything to start another clan war.”
“Are ye going to allow her to leave then?” Malcolm studied him, as if searching for something other than what Tristan would state.
“I am not sure. A part of me agrees that perhaps she would be better off returning to her clan. However, there is the possibility that she could be with child. I will never allow my child to live with them.”
Both turned when Gregor chuckled, his eyes already drooping with fatigue. “I had not considered that.”
Malcolm frowned. “We will not go to war. I have decided against it and our uncle agrees. What I do plan to do is to find out who is responsible for the attack.”
“It could be anyone. The McLeod himself could have ordered it, but I doubt he would ever put Merida in that kind of danger,” Tristan replied.
“Nay, he would not allow for arrows to rain down in the way it was described to me,
” Malcolm said. “Merida could have been killed.”
There was a knock on the door and a guard walked in. “Laird, a messenger has arrived. He comes from Laird McLeod.”
“Escort him to the great room.” Malcolm stalked to the doorway and Tristan stood to join him. His brother looked to their uncle. “I am grateful that ye will be well. I will return to speak of whatever this messenger has to say.”
Their uncle waved them off, his eyes already closing.
“Is the healer sure he will recover fully?” Tristan asked his brother as soon as they were out of Gregor’s earshot.
“He assures me it is so.” Malcolm continued on down the corridor and into the great room where two guards escorted a young man whose wide eyes moved from taking in the large room to them and back around to his two escorts.
“Laird,” the messenger said upon seeing Malcolm. “I bring…”
“Give me a moment,” Malcolm interjected and motioned for those in the room to leave. Servants hurried out.
Once they were alone with only Malcolm’s personal guards, the messenger was allowed to speak.
“My laird wishes to meet and talk.”
“Is yer laird aware of the attack on the party by McLeods upon returning from the Mackenzie’s?” Malcolm asked.
The messenger frowned. “Nay, I do not believe so. Is Lady Merida injured?”
Tristan studied the young man. “She is not.” He preferred to not disclose the ankle injury.
“We will meet with yer laird in neutral territory,” Malcolm said, his gaze pinpointing the messenger. “Kildonan, the village just past Loch Broom.”
“I will inform my laird.”
“Has he returned home?” Tristan asked.
“Aye, he was on the way home when he dispatched me here.”
Malcolm waited a few beats, obviously considering what else to ask. “Do ye know what yer laird wishes to discuss?”
“I do not.”
“Have ye spoken to Ethan?” Tristan asked next.
“Nay, I have not.” It was admirable how the young man did not seem at all discomfited by their questioning. Instead, it was as if he expected to be questioned.
“I believe my laird sent him off to see about the northern borders,” the messenger volunteered, knowing it would be virtually impossible for a Ross to travel through McLeod lands to reach their northern borders.
Malcolm tensed and immediately Tristan realized for whom it would not be impossible. Kieran was at the northernmost post. At the edge of Ross lands. If their younger brother found out about Ethan’s whereabouts, he would not hesitate to seek revenge.
Having left before Tristan’s marriage, Kieran had no way of knowing. It wasn’t the consequences with the McLeod they feared, but the possibility of Kieran being injured. Ethan McLeod was without honor and would not hesitate to kill Kieran.
That the McLeod asked to meet could be another attempt to plea for Ethan’s life. It was possible the man would seek the safety of his youngest son.
“Go to the kitchens and make sure ye are fed before returning to yer laird. We will meet with him at midday in three days.” Malcolm looked to his guards. “Two of ye remain with him and make sure he is not harmed.”
After the messenger left, servants meandered back into the great room to prepare for last meal. Tristan and Malcolm moved away to the large hearth.
“We have the advantage of visibility,” Tristan said, considering that they’d travel from higher land to the meeting place.
Malcolm nodded. “They have the advantage of seeing us approach as well.” His brother studied him for a moment. “It could be a good time to return yer bride if ye wish.”
“True.” Tristan looked into the fire. “What should I do?”
“As ye said, if there is a possibility of a bairn, tis best for yer wife to remain. Either way, ye made a vow, Brother.”
“It will be difficult for her. With our recent clan wars, she will have little protection when I am not about.”
Malcolm’s lips curved. “I would not say that. Elspeth has taken a liking to her and has ensured every servant is informed that yer wife is to be respected.”
“Is that true?”
“Aye,” his brother said, nodding. “Do not underestimate our women. I assure ye that within days, Merida will be part of this clan.”
Malcolm didn’t know his wife and Tristan wasn’t so sure Merida would be as compliant as his brother expected.
“I will be at last meal. First, I must see about her horse. The beast is unfriendly.” He stalked out to the courtyard, glad to notice everything continued as before. Those that were there did not look to him with any kind of animosity.
Horses grazed in the corrals, their tails swishing back and forth in the cooling breeze. Tristan walked into the stables and found that Duin remained in a stall.
“Ruari? Are ye here?”
His cousin called out from the back. “Aye.”
“Has Merida’s horse been out?” he asked, walking to where his cousin lay on a cot.
“Nay, the beast does not allow anyone near. It took me and four guards to get him into the stall.”
Tristan went back to Duin’s stall and studied the animal that shook its head as if in warning. “I know ye like to be outdoors, so come along.”
He reached around the horse’s neck to pull on the reins that remained around his head. “Come now.” He slowly opened the stall door, not looking away from the horse.
Other than pawing the ground, the animal exited the stall as meek as a tamed mare. He followed Tristan outside.
“Well, that is something I didn’t expect,” Ruari said as he joined Tristan while he removed the bridle and loosed the animal into the corral.
“I think he recognizes me now. I do not trust him enough to ride him however.”
Tristan looked to the keep. “A messenger came from the McLeod. He wishes to meet. We go in three days. Would ye come with us?”
Ruari nodded. “What do ye think he wishes to speak about?”
“The conditions of the truce. He may request that we not kill his youngest son.”
Ruari grunted. “We will never allow that bastard to live.”
“We will not,” Tristan agreed.
Chapter Sixteen
Paige rolled away from Alec and he pulled her against his chest, enjoying the feel of her plush body against his. They were spent after making love. Everything felt right once he was beside her.
“I missed ye terribly,” she murmured. “The days were so long.”
“The nights longer,” Alec replied, nuzzling her neck.
Once she fell into an exhausted sleep, Alec remained awake. He couldn’t rest thinking of his sister. Merida was no longer under their protection. And although it had been expected that she’d marry soon and live elsewhere, he’d never even considered she’d be living with their enemies.
With each hour that passed, he worried more about her. Thankfully, his father had agreed to request a meeting with the Ross. This way, they could be made aware of how Merida fared and also ensure that Malcolm and Tristan became aware that Clan McLeod would take her back without any questions or repercussions.
He should be sleeping deeply. After a day of seeing to clan needs and riding to visit a nearby farmer, he’d barely had time to settle before his parents and wife returned from Mackenzie lands.
The evening meal had seemed to last forever so that he’d barely been able to resist dragging Paige from the main hall to have some privacy. Finally upon entering their chamber, they’d made love, talking between each time about what the other had missed.
He admired his beautiful wife and the position she’d quickly gained at the keep. Although she was from a humble background, Paige had managed the household admirably along with his mother. Not only had she ensured all ran efficiently, but also she’d garnered the respect of the servants by being fair but unbending.
He slipped from the bed and, after wrapping his tartan about his body,
went down to his father’s study. Sitting at his desk was his father with a glass of whisky in his hand.
The McLeod looked up as he entered. “Ye cannot sleep either,” his father stated the obvious. “What keeps ye up?”
“Thoughts of Merida. Of Ethan.”
His father chuckled. “Already stepping into my shoes.” He drank from the glass. “Merida will be well. I noticed Tristan Ross was already smitten with the lass.”
“What of my brother.”
“He will not live long, Alec. We must accept it.”
*
Lady McLeod entered the room just as Paige finished pinning her hair up. The woman had dark circles under her eyes and, yet, remained attractive. “I am glad to be home,” Lady McLeod said nearing. “Although I’m thankful for the reprieve of being inside the keep, I missed everything.”
Paige smiled herself, glad to see the woman. “I missed it as well. Did ye not sleep well?”
“I am horribly worried about Merida. I wish to ask that either Alec or Clyde go see about her at once,” she said, referring to her son and husband.
Paige stood and reached for her mother-in-law’s hand. “I will join ye in requesting it be so. Although I don’t think we will have a hard time convincing them. Alec was up most of the night.”
Lady McLeod nodded. “Clyde as well.”
Together, they descended the stairs to find the great room already filled with people eating and talking loudly, most glad to have the laird back in their midst.
Alec was with guardsmen by a rear door and did not notice her entrance. She noted the men paid close attention to whatever he said, their faces solemn.
“What do ye suppose they speak of?” Paige asked Lady McLeod who also watched her son. “It seems serious.”
“Aye, it does.”
After taking their places at the high board, Alec finally joined them. He sat between her and the laird and immediately began speaking with his father. “Word has been sent to him. It may take a day or two.”
It was difficult to know what they spoke of and she knew it was not the time nor the place to question her husband about his conversation with the laird. Instead, she’d wait to see what Lady McLeod had gleaned. She would definitely ask Alec once they were alone in their bedchamber.
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