“Nay! I say I’ve seen Lady Ramsay, but I didna see her that day. I have seen her before.”
Five days of hard riding had led them to the McLeans at the border.
“But ye told me ye had seen her!” Athyn yelled.
“Aye, Athyn. How was I to know that ye meant if I had seen her that day?”
“We waste time. I go riding to Wynton’s. Join me if ye like,” Connor said abruptly and impatiently. He mounted on his steed and rode to Wynton’s. He was more certain than ever that she lived.
It was a bittersweet moment.
Yes, his wife was alive, but she also feigned her death to get away from him. That hurt him deeply like a sword straight through his heart. The ironic thing was, he thought he no longer had one.
*****
“Ye can’t go by! Shtay here!” the guard slurred, as he stood up unsteadily.
Connor ignored the drunk and walked into Skorthyne.
Wynton was walking down the stairs and looked up when the door opened and Connor strode through.
“Where’s my wife?”
“Who,” he paused, “is your wife?” It slowly dawned on him. “Ye married your half sister?” Wynton yelled in shock and laughed. Connor strode up the steps, grabbed Wynton by the neck, and held him up off the ground.
“I willna ask ye again. Where. Is. My. Wife?” he growled with deadly calm.
“What are you doing? Get away from my father!” Christopher yelled.
Christopher, Eric, and Robert stood below. They failed to see Connor’s men directly behind them.
“I don’t know where the little bitch is! Hadn’t you stated that she was with you? Binouix said he would be going to take her!”
Connor slammed him against the wall again, knowing that this sorry excuse for a father didn’t know where Maddie was.
A thought came to him: she hadn’t come here after all.
Where was she then?
Fear gnawed at him. Her being here with a known enemy would have been preferable to her being elsewhere with an unknown one.
Connor released Wynton and Wynton sagged to the floor.
“You got what you wanted, Ramsay. You avenged your sister’s violation by using Madeleine, who is our half sister and yours!” Christopher said smugly.
Iain pushed him from behind and Christopher turned around drawing his sword. He inhaled sharply as he realized that he and his brothers were outnumbered.
“Which one of ye bastards violated my sister?” Iain boomed. “There’s unfinished business to take care of.”
Connor came down the stairs. He heard shuffling behind him and turned around, drawing his sword in time. The blade of his sword pricked through Wynton’s stomach and he let out a moan.
“Fight with honor, Wynton, not when a man’s back is turned.”
“Get out of here you savage! Go and make that bitch’s life as miserable as she had made mine! Go bed her and have children touched by the devil,” Wynton said tightly.
“Ye buffoon, she isna my half sister. Ye confused the names many years ago. It wasna Laird Ramsay who took your wife. It was Laird Menzies. If you hadna been so inebriated and such a bloody idiot, ye may have been able to hear the difference!” Connor said heatedly, pressing the sword into Wynton harder.
Wynton had gone pale.
“I chose the wrong girl! At least she wasn’t vulgar-looking like the rest of the Scots,” Robert said, laughing.
Iain looked murderous. He moved forward.
“So it was ye! Shall I make it so that ye never bed a woman? Or should I just end yer worthless life?”
Robert looked to Iain. Fear was evident on his face. He made the mistake of drawing his sword and charging forward.
Iain’s sword went cleanly and swiftly through his middle.
“Bastard,” Iain said and spit on him.
“Anyone else want to challenge us?” Kiel said, drawing his sword.
“Leave! Now!” Christopher yelled. He looked down to his dead brother and then looked over to Eric.
“Leave now, Ramsays. You have avenged your sister’s dishonor by slaying our brother.” Christopher knew better than to challenge the huge Scots.
Connor looked at Wynton one last time.
“Either of ye attempt to attack any of mine, and ye shall pay with yer lives,” Connor roared and descended the steps.
I’ll be closer to the Lord…
It echoed in his mind. It was a line from the letter she had written. He had read it so many times that he knew it by heart.
At the front door, he turned and asked, “Where is the convent Maddie was going to devote her life to?”
Wynton looked as if he didn’t want to answer and Connor took a threatening step forward.
“It is about an hour’s ride from here. Travel north on the trail, and where the path forks, go right.”
Connor slammed the door behind him.
“We ride north, men.”
Connor knew then that she hadn’t died. Although everyone had said that she had, somehow he had known deep in his gut that she hadn’t.
He had forced punishment on himself.
He had blamed himself.
He’d grown to hate himself for having done what he did to the woman he loved.
Every day since she left, it had been harder and harder to breath knowing that he would have to live the rest of his pathetic life without hearing her laugh, seeing her beautiful face, or touching her soft skin. There had been a small flame of hope in his broken heart that had refused to die, though. Even as his head screamed that she was dead, his heart had known the truth all along.
If his wife had been dead, his heart would have stopped beating long ago.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Put on the robe, quickly. Unrecognized riders approach.”
“But Sister, won’t my belly give me away?” Maddie asked fearfully.
“Go into the chapel and kneel as if in prayer. No one will bother ye, especially when ye have the robe on. I will come when it is safe. Hurry. Be careful, but walk quickly.”
Sister Margaret saw Maddie hurry towards the chapel. Once assured that she was in there, she turned into the main building.
She sat waiting.
Sister Margaret knew who was coming, for no others in the area would come calling dressed in plaid, especially with so many men, at this time; dusk had already fallen. She hadn’t wanted to tell Maddie, though. Nay, she was a few months away from giving birth and this was a very sensitive time for expecting women. This was especially true for Maddie, since she had been having difficulty with her condition.
The bell sounded loudly and a knock followed. The bell’s ring reverberated the sound of metal. Both Sister Margaret and Sister Mary went to the door. They had always had a plan in place about what to do if Connor ever came calling.
If this Scot, Connor, was rude, hateful, or vengeful, they would not tell him anything about Maddie. As far as they were concerned, they would tell him they hadn’t heard anything about her for a long time. It wasn’t a lie, the two women had joked. Until she came here, they hadn’t heard from her since before she was kidnapped from her home.
They opened the door and there stood six weary Highlanders, but one stood out from the others. He was the tallest with clear blue eyes that told a story. There, Sister Margaret saw pain, hope, and confusion.
“Sisters, pardon for the call at this late hour,” Connor began in a deep voice.
His politeness impressed and satisfied the nuns.
“Do come in, my sons. This is Sister Mary and I am Sister Margaret. You seem weary from traveling. I gather that you are Scots from your accent and dress,” Sister Margaret nodded.
The men came forward and the door was closed behind them.
“Aye, Sister, but we are God fearing men and mean ye no harm. I am Laird Connor Ramsay from the Highlands in Scotland. May I have a moment of yer time for a concern that merits discussion?”
Sister Mary took the hint.
&
nbsp; “Sister Margaret, I will take these travelers for a bit of drink and fare. Do come along. We are quite safe here. No one bothers us. Come along,” Sister Mary clucked like a mother with her children.
Connor’s men and Athyn looked over to Connor to gauge his reaction, and to give him an awkward look that made Connor almost smile.
Once they were gone, Sister Margaret asked, “So what matter is it that you wish to discuss with me?”
“My wife, Sister. I have reason to believe that Lady Madeleine Ramsay is here and I’ve a wish to speak with her.”
Sister Margaret studied him for a long second, looking for any reason to deny him.
This politeness and slow process of speaking to the nun was killing Connor. He wanted to barge through the building, tearing and knocking doors down until he reached her. Father Dircan, however, had instilled some semblance of decorum when addressing those doing God’s will in the church.
Her next words surprised him.
“I’m not sure that is wise, Laird.”
He expected her to deny Maddie’s presence here. The Sister, however, put up no pretense.
“So she is here.” Connor looked away, and let out a long, tired sigh. He closed his eyes in what looked like relief and pain. He inhaled deeply and asked, “Why can I nay see her?”
“She is in a delicate condition.”
“What do ye mean? Sister, has she fallen ill?” he asked hurriedly.
That was all the evidence she needed. She would help the Scottish laird all that she could.
“Nay, but her condition as of late is delicate.”
“I must see her, Sister.”
“Why has it taken so long for you to travel here and speak to her? Surely the distance from Scotland isn’t so great.”
He wouldn’t have allowed such insolent words from his men, but this woman before him had God on her side.
“I believed that she was dead.”
Sister Margaret’s eye widened but she let the issue drop for the moment. His response confused her but she would hold her questions until later.
“She is in the chapel. I told her I would come when I thought it was safe for her.”
Connor nodded and Sister Margaret pointed in the direction of the chapel.
“Be gentle, Laird. She is in no condition to argue.”
He gave Sister Margaret one last curious look before turning to leave to see his dearly departed wife.
She was alive.
And she had run away from him.
Was she not in love with him any longer? Why hadn’t she just said something? She had run away from him as if she were a mistreated hostage!
His anger soared. His steps grew louder as determination spiked in his blood.
Connor opened the door to the dark chapel. Dusk had fallen now and only candles and torches lit the interior.
The first thing he saw when his eyes had accustomed themselves to the dim light was a kneeled, hunched form at the head of the chapel. There was a small wall that served as an arm and elbow rest when kneeling down. As he walked closer, his heart nearly thudded out of his chest.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Maddie heard the door open but she immediately knew that it wasn’t Sister Margaret, for she would have said something by now to allay Maddie’s fears. Maddie was so tense she nearly cried out. Worried tears began to form in her eyes as she kept her back hunched and her head bowed. She didn’t have to feign praying; her lips moved with desperation and earnestness.
Heavy footsteps?
Had something happened to Sister Margaret?
The stranger approached. She heard his steps move closer and she huddled further into the hooded robe Sister Margaret lent her. Sweat began to form on her forehead and the baby within her did cartwheels. She moved her hand to her belly and rubbed it hurriedly. She folded her hands and placed them on the armrest again. She gripped them so tightly she stopped the blood flow.
The stranger climbed the short steps and stood before her. All she saw were boots, for she didn’t dare move her head.
Standing there, Connor wasn’t sure that it was her. The hood blocked all view of her face. His heart beat faster. His skin prickled and his breath caught.
Was he going to get a second chance to be with the love of his life?
“Sister?” His voice was low and a tad uncertain.
He knew it was her just then. Her hands betrayed her; they were smudged with dirt.
“Sister?” he asked again, more aggressively.
Good Lord! It was Connor!
“Are ye mute?”
She nodded her head yes.
Connor wanted to smile and would’ve if he hadn’t wanted to throttle her.
“Madeleine, quit with this farce. I know ‘tis ye.”
She stayed huddled down.
“Maddie!” he said harshly.
Her head snapped up, and angry golden eyes collided against blue fierce ones.
Connor was momentarily stunned by the changes he saw on her face. She had gained a considerable amount of weight. Black shadows were underneath her eyes. Fatigue was apparent in every beautiful feature of her striking face.
“So ye were here all along not caring what yer deceitful actions have done to my family or my clan,” he said in such a hard voice that it almost made her cry. “Or me.”
“You have nerve to speak of deceitful actions, Laird, when you reign as king on that throne!” she said bitterly.
“My mother, Katie, and my father. Kiel and Iain. All of them were heartbroken! Have ye no care? Was it so terrible to be married to me, Madeleine?” he asked cruelly, but whispered the last part painfully.
“You purposefully left yourself out of that list of names, but no pretense need be made, Laird, for I know well you were not heartbroken. I did what I needed to do!”
He ignored her former comment and focused on the latter.
“‘Tis unforgivable!”
“Unforgivable! ‘Tis sinful to speak so frankly before God, but you have nerve to speak of unforgivable acts when I know that you married me solely because you couldna bed me otherwise! Aye, and bed me for vengeance you did!” Maddie said shouting. She remained kneeling on the floor, disguising the full extent of her condition. She wondered if Miriam had told him anything. “You’re a damn hypocrite.”
“Ye never gave me the opportunity to explain! Ye jumped to premature conclusions, Madeleine. But ‘tis no good now, for what ye have done is unforgivable!” he bellowed.
“We are in the Lord’s house and don’t you dare yell in here or at me!” she shouted.
“Ye are yelling!”
“‘Tis only because you are an insufferable duplicitous brute!”
“Me?” he laughed cruelly. “Ye have led my family and my clan through purgatory. And me. Ye left me devastated, Madeleine!” His nostrils flared. Connor’s jaw clenched so tightly he feared he’d crack a tooth.
Maddie saw a muscle throbbing in his neck.
“I know ‘twas horrible to leave, but I left a note! At least I showed more consideration than you had ever shown to me,” she explained vehemently.
Frustrated tears fell down her face when she realized that she would never have another opportunity with Connor. Then she grew angrier at the absurd thought. How dare it be his choice! He should be begging her for forgiveness. More tears fell down from her face when she directed the anger at herself for her momentary weakness.
Maddie clenched her hands tightly. Her lips trembled, but she didn’t know if it was from anger or sadness.
She would never return to him.
“Consideration? Ye must be daft woman! To feign yer own death to escape Keisealle and me at the expense of my family-”
“To w-what?” Maddie sputtered. Her eyes rounded in shock and confusion.
“Feign. Yer. Death.”
He just wanted to grab her and take her into his arms.
To kiss her all over.
To shake her.
He cursed himself fo
r the weakness.
“I did not feign my death! How dare you accuse me of such a sin!” Her eyes were darker and her lips were pressed into a line.
“Doona deny it. Do not lie to my face, for I’ll not take it!”
She stood up suddenly, as fast as she could given her condition, and jabbed a finger in his direction. She forgot about disguising her condition.
“You ass! I did not feign my own death. I left you a letter with my whereabouts hidden in a riddle so that you could find me if you so had the inclination! And you didn’t! I should have known after all. How could I be so delusional? And now, you come to make me miserable here as well? Leave!” she screamed, pointing her finger at the door down the aisle.
Connor didn’t do anything. In fact, he didn’t even breathe. He just stared.
Her belly.
It couldn’t be.
“Ye…” he cleared his throat and began anew, “ye…uhh… have gained a lot of weight, Madeleine,” he said clumsily.
“Aye, and ‘tis your fault, too. ‘Tis not food I carry in this belly, for if it were, it would be one long malady of indigestion that kicks and moves!”
The force of what she said shook Connor. His knees were weak.
He looked into her eyes with confusion.
“Ye’re expecting?” he whispered hoarsely. “‘Tis my bairn.”
“Aye, I am expecting, and nay, it is not your baby.”
“Not my baby? Ye couldna be carrying another’s bairn.” His chest heaved with emotion.
“‘Tis not your baby, ‘tis mine, and you won’t take it away!”
“Ye were expecting all this time?” he asked brokenly.
The blood had drained from his face.
A bairn.
His Maddie was carrying his bairn.
“Why? Why did ye leave and not say anything? Why did ye have to feign yer death?” he asked in a hurtful whisper.
“I didn’t!” She almost stomped her foot on the floor. “I didn’t feign my death. Why would you think that?”
He took out her letter.
“You have my letter?” she murmured, surprised.
“Everywhere. Near my heart. I carry it everywhere since ye’ve been gone,” he said softly, looking from her golden eyes to her protruding belly.
The Highlander Who Saved Me (Heart of a Highlander Collection Book 2) Page 25
