Highland Warrior

by Connie Mason

  Impatience rode Ross. “Well?” he asked.

  “By God’s grace there are no broken bones, though she might have suffered a concussion. Time will tell.”

  Ross allowed himself to breathe, until he noticed Gizela’s grave expression. He pulled her aside, far enough away so Gillian couldn’t hear them. “What is it? Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “There is a chance she might lose the bairn.”

  “Bairn? What bairn?”

  “Didna Gillian tell you?”

  There were no words to express his feelings, so he simply shook his head.

  He glanced over at Gillian, saw that her eyes were open, and returned to her bedside. Gizela followed.

  Gillian’s eyes darted between Ross and Gizela, finally settling on Gizela. “My bairn, is he all right?”

  “He clings tenaciously to life, lass,” Gizela replied. “I will prepare an herbal tea to help keep him safe within you.”

  She hastened from the chamber, leaving Ross alone with Gillian.

  “You took a nasty fall,” he said. His gaze shifted from her face to her stomach. “Thank God you didna break any bones.”

  “I didna fall. I was pushed.”

  “God’s bones! Who would do such a thing? Tell me and I will see him punished.”

  “I canna say, for the attack came from behind,” Gillian said shakily. “I thank God you arrived when you did.”

  “Nay, thank Gizela. Are you sure you didna trip on the hem of your gown?”

  “I didna trip.”

  His expression hardened. “If someone pushed you, I will find and punish the culprit.” He gazed into her eyes, his own troubled. “Why did you nae tell me?”

  Gillian knew what he was asking. “You werena ready to hear it.”

  A long silence ensued. When he finally spoke, his voice was harsher than he intended. “Is the bairn mine?”

  Gillian paled. “If I had my sword, I would run you through for that.”

  Ross wanted to call back his words the moment they had left his lips. He knew not what devil made him accuse her unjustly. Having spoken to McHamish, he knew Gillian had indeed meant to kill Sinclair.

  “Forgive me, my love.”

  No answer was forthcoming; Gillian had lost consciousness.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ross began chafing Gillian’s wrists and softly calling her name. What had he done to her? After learning he was to become a father, he had deliberately insulted her. He was a witless fool. How could he treat the woman he loved in such a vile manner?

  All the breath was sucked out of him. Did he love Gillian? God in heaven, was it possible? He hadn’t truly realized it until he had nearly lost her. Life without his warrior wife would be unbearably boring. It was true—Gillian had found a place in his heart against all odds, and if she forgave him, he would be forever grateful.

  Ross breathed a sigh of relief when Gizela returned with the herbal tea she had brewed for Gillian. Alice followed, carrying a basin filled with melting snow and clean cloths.

  “She isna responding,” Ross explained on a rising note of panic. He couldn’t lose Gillian now. “What’s the matter with her?”

  “She’s unconscious but alive, laird. I’ve brought snow for her head wound. The cold water should bring the swelling down.”

  She dipped a cloth in the icy crystals, wrung it out, and placed it on the lump growing on Gillian’s forehead. Then Gizela and Alice moved together to disrobe the unconscious woman.

  “Gillian may have bruises that need treating with yarrow salve. Stand aside, laird.”

  Ross refused to budge. “I will assist Gizela, Alice. You can fetch a night rail for my wife.”

  Without waiting for Gizela’s permission, Ross carefully began removing Gillian’s clothing, wincing in sympathy as each new bruise was uncovered.

  “ ’Tis not so bad,” Gizela said as she spread a thick layer of salve on Gillian’s bruised right shoulder, right hip, and scraped knee, then covered them with bandages. “I’m more concerned about the bairn than the bruises.”

  Ross’s thoughts ran amok as he helped Gizela pull over Gillian’s head the night rail Alice had fetched. Why hadn’t Gillian told him about the bairn?

  “Gillian, can you hear me?” Ross asked anxiously. “Doona leave me, lass.”

  Gillian opened her eyes. They were focused, and she seemed alert. Gizela nodded, apparently satisfied with her response. “No concussion, laird. Now all we have to worry about is keeping the bairn inside her, where it belongs.” She reached for the steaming mug of tea and brought it to Gillian’s lips. “Drink, lass. ’Tis a special brew to keep you from miscarrying.”

  Gillian slid a glance at Ross, opened her mouth as if to say something, but was stopped when Gizela brought the mug of tea to her lips, forcing her to drink. When the mug was empty, she lay back and closed her eyes.

  “Why is she so pale?” Ross asked Gizela.

  “Och, you would be pale too if you had just had the fright of your life. Doona fret, laird. The flame burns bright inside the lass. All will be well.” She bustled toward the door. “You can find me in the kitchen brewing more tea if you need me. Come, Alice; Laird Ross needs a moment alone with his lady”

  Ross nodded his thanks and approached the bed. He picked up Gillian’s limp hand in his and willed her to open her eyes. He wanted to more know about their bairn. How long had she known, and why hadn’t she told him?

  Gillian opened her eyes. “Ross...”

  “Aye, sweeting, I’m here. Will you tell me about our bairn?”

  “Go away, Ross. I’m too angry to talk to you, and I need to conserve my energy. If you wish to be helpful, find out who pushed me down the stairs.”

  “Forgive my cruel words, lass,” Ross begged. “I spoke without thinking. I know you didna betray me, and I promise that the man or woman who pushed you will be severely punished.”

  Ross couldn’t blame Gillian for wanting him out of her sight, and silently vowed to make things right between them. If Gillian didn’t return his love, he’d find a way to woo her.

  Gillian turned her head away, refusing to look at him.

  Regret rode Ross mercilessly. He sighed heavily, aware that now wasn’t the best time to bare his heart to Gillian. “Verra well, lass, I will leave you to your rest and fetch Alice to sit with you.”

  Ross didn’t have to look far for Alice. She was waiting in the corridor outside the door. She slipped into the chamber as soon as Ross left.

  His heart heavy, Ross descended the stairs. A hush fell over the hall when he entered. He strode directly toward a bench where Gordo and Niall sat, their heads together in quiet conversation.

  “How does the lass fare?” Gordo asked.

  “Gizela thinks she’ll be fine. She’s treated Gillian’s bruises and the bump on her head and ...” His sentence fell off.

  “What is it, lad?” Gordo asked. “Is aught amiss?”

  “Gillian could lose the bairn she is carrying.”

  “You’re going to be a father?” Niall asked enthusiastically. “Why did you nae tell us?”

  “I didna know until a few minutes ago. I’m as surprised as you are.” He sank down beside them. Someone brought him a tankard of ale. He frowned into it a moment before taking a healthy gulp.

  “There’s more, isn’t there?” Gordo prodded.

  “Gillian said someone pushed her down the stairs.”

  “Who would do such a ...” Niall’s words stuttered to a halt as several men burst into the hall in a swirl of cold wind.

  Ross groaned when he recognized Tearlach MacKay, accompanied by his heir and several kinsmen. What a time for Gillian’s father to pay a visit, Ross lamented. MacKay’s thunderous expression did not bode well for Ross.

  “You bastard!” MacKay roared as he reached for his sword and waved it menacingly in Ross’s face. “My wee lass is dead and ’tis all your fault! Draw your weapon, MacKenna.”

  Stunned, Ross made no move in his own defense. MacK
ay would have cut him down if Gizela hadn’t stepped between them. “Your lass isna dead, Tearlach MacKay.”

  MacKay stopped in his tracks, his sword still held at the ready. He waved Gizela aside and glared at Ross. “Gillian is alive?”

  “Aye, a bit bruised, but alive. Why would you think she is dead?”

  “Angus Sinclair sent word of Gillian’s death to Braeburn.” He scratched his head in bewilderment. “I knew Gillian was at Ravenscraig, but it didna occur to me to wonder how Sinclair was in possession of such information. I was too upset to think clearly.” His narrow-eyed glance pierced Ross. “I kenned you were angry with Gillian, and that you tried to repudiate your marriage and send her away. When I received Sinclair’s message I naturally assumed you were responsible for her death.”

  “I would never hurt Gillian,” Ross declared. “I admit I was angry at her, but have since learned Gillian didna lie. ’Tis true she challenged Sinclair after she learned he and Seana had goaded McHamish into attacking me. Sinclair actually believes Gillian is dead. He thinks she leaped from the tower to her death,” Ross continued. “News travels slowly in the winter when fierce storms make travel impossible.”

  “Clan Sinclair is no longer my ally,” MacKay proclaimed. “Come spring I will deal with Angus. Where is my daughter? She isna here to greet me.”

  Ross cleared his throat. “Gillian took a wee fall down the stairs today, but doona fear; she suffered naught but a few bruises and bumps.”

  MacKay sent Ross a venomous look, but it was Murdoc who reacted first. “If you canna take care of my sister, we will take her home to Braeburn.”

  “Aye,” Tearlach agreed, glaring at Ross.

  “You’re not taking my wife anywhere,” Ross warned.

  “Last time we spoke, you were more than eager to be rid of her.”

  “Things have changed since last we spoke.”

  “I want to see my daughter.”

  “I will take you to her,” Ross said. “You can see for yourself that she is alive and well.”

  Gillian heard the sounds of a commotion wafting up from the hall and wondered what was happening. Had Ross found out who had pushed her? Gillian suspected Seana, but proving it was going to be difficult, for there were no witnesses. Her thoughts ended abruptly when the door opened, admitting Ross, her father, and her brother Murdoc. Her family had never been more welcome, especially after Ross’s hurtful rejection of their bairn. Even though Ross had apologized, she wasn’t sure she could forgive him.

  “Da! Murdoc!” she cried, wishing she could rise from bed for a proper welcome. But Gizela had forbidden her to leave her bed until the danger of miscarriage was past. “What brings you to Ravenscraig?”

  His eyes tearing up, Tearlach rushed to Gillian’s bedside. “Ah, lass, ’tis happy I am to see you alive and well.”

  Gillian frowned. “Why would I not be? I but fell down a few stairs. A wee accident. Gizela has predicted a full recovery.”

  Tearlach searched her face and frowned. “That fearsome lump on your head doesna look like a wee accident to me. You’re pale as a ghost, lass. Why the circles under your eyes? Has your husband been mistreating you? I should have fetched you home when MacKenna begged me to take you away.”

  Gillian’s winced and aimed a heated glance at Ross. “Ross didna hurt me, Da.”

  “Leave us, MacKenna; I wish to speak to Gillian alone. Murdoc can stay.”

  “Now, see here, MacKay,” Ross complained, “you canna order me about in my own home.”

  Tired of listening to their bickering, Gillian said, “Go away, Ross. I wish to speak in private with my family.”

  “Gillian, I doona think—” Ross began.

  “That’s the problem, Ross. You never think.”

  Ross started to speak, closed his mouth, and stomped out of the chamber. MacKay pulled a chair up to the bed and sat down.

  “Why does Sinclair believe you are dead, lass? He sent word to me of your death, and I came as soon as I could to learn the truth for myself.”

  “Apparently Angus still believes I leaped to my death from the tower. He must not have learned I am at Ravenscraig, alive and well.”

  “You doona look well. What is wrong? I ken you fell down the stairs, but there’s more to it than that, I vow.”

  Gillian sighed heavily. “Seana McHamish is here. Ross let her return to Ravenscraig. She claimed I lied to Ross, that the real reason I went to Sinclair Keep was to become Angus’s lover. Ross believed her. But then, little by little, Ross began to change, giving me hope that he was beginning to love me a wee bit.”

  “ ’Tis not difficult to imagine. You are a lovable lass when you doona have a sword in your hand,” Murdoc observed wryly. “So what happened?”

  “I didna fall accidentally. I was pushed.”

  MacKay half rose from his chair. “Pushed? MacKenna said naught about your being pushed. Name the bastard who did it.”

  “I doona believe it was any of Ross’s kinsmen. I suspect Seana McHamish of pushing me, but I have no proof.”

  “I will take care of the slut,” Murdoc promised.

  “She’s Niall MacKenna’s handfast wife. Touch her and the feud will resume. Is that what you want?”

  “If it’s the only way to rid the world of a menace, then aye,” Murdoc growled.

  “Nay, I doona want to see another of my sons die by the sword,” MacKay said thoughtfully. “How long before you can travel, lass? It looks like the weather will hold another day or two. We can make a bed in a cart, cover you with furs, and take you back to Braeburn, where you will be safe.”

  Gillian silently debated telling her father about the baim she carried, ultimately deciding it was something he should know. “I’m carrying Ross’s bairn, Da. Gizela doesna think my fall has harmed me or my bairn, so mayhap traveling willna hurt me.”

  “That settles it,” MacKay resolved. “We’re taking you home. You canna afford to suffer any more accidents. Ross MacKenna isna capable of protecting you.”

  “I doubt Ross will allow me to leave,” Gillian replied.

  “Aye, he will,” Murdoc vowed, “after Da and I speak to him.”

  Tearlach rose. “Rest, lass. You need to be strong for our journey tomorrow. We can take Gizela with us, if it pleases you.”

  “Mary would welcome you with open arms,” Murdoc added. “I’m to be a father myself come summer.”

  Gillian smiled. MacKay beamed. “It seems I’m to be blessed with grandchildren.” He rose to leave.

  “Da, wait. Say naught to Ross. Let me tell him I’m leaving. It will cause less trouble between the clans if it comes from me.”

  “Verra well, lass, but doona think I’ll back down about this. You’re leaving with me and Murdoc no matter what MacKenna says.”

  Tearlach and Murdoc left the chamber. Tearlach didn’t have far to look for Ross. He was pacing the corridor outside the door.

  “Gillian wants to speak to you,” MacKay said. “Murdoc and I will wait for you below in the hall.”

  Gillian silently pondered the words she would say to Ross. Though she didn’t want the feud to resume, she and her bairn needed to be safe.

  “Your father said you wanted to speak to me,” Ross said, sinking into the chair Tearlach had just vacated. “I’m glad. I wanted a moment alone with you. Once again I ask your forgiveness, Gillian. I never doubted the bairn was mine. It was thoughtless—nay, cruel of me to suggest otherwise.”

  The light in Gillian’s eyes dimmed. “I canna begin to describe the hurt I suffered when you denied our bairn.”

  He looked so utterly miserable that Gillian’s heart began to soften. “I ken you visited McHamish. What did you learn?”

  “He confirmed everything you told me. Truth to tell, I kenned you hadna lied about what happened at Sinclair Keep even before I spoke with McHamish.”

  “Yet you did leave,” Gillian charged. “My word wasna enough for you. You chose to believe Seana’s version of what happened. I thought making love
the night before you left was a new beginning for us. I thought... Never mind; naught matters now. When you denied our bairn, you denied me.”

  “Forgive me, lass. I burned with jealousy. I hated the idea that you preferred Sinclair to me.”

  Ross was jealous? Mayhap she should let him suffer a wee bit more. “I doona know if I can. Sending Seana away would be a good start toward healing our marriage. I am convinced she pushed me down the stairs.”

  “If I send Seana away, Niall will leave with her. I canna bear to part with the cousin I depend upon and love dearly. But,” he amended, “if Seana is responsible for your accident, I will gladly send her away, and I’m sure Niall will agree with me.”

  “If Seana remains while you investigate, I amna safe at Ravenscraig. Da wants to take me to Braeburn, and I’ve agreed to go with him.”

  Ross leaped to his feet. “I already told your father nay. I willna allow you to leave. You carry my bairn. Think you I canna take care of you?”

  “You havena done so thus far, Ross. Seana’s next attempt on my life might succeed.”

  Ross sighed heavily “Verra well, you give me no choice. I will send Seana away immediately. I will do whatever it takes to keep you from leaving me.”

  “Nay, I ken how well you love Niall. ’Tis best that I return to Braeburn while you investigate.”

  Ross stared deep into the emerald depths of her eyes. “How do I know you will return?”

  Gillian refused to look at him. A thorough search of her heart found love but not forgiveness. Until that happened—if it happened—’twas best that she return to Braeburn.

  “That depends on many things, Ross. When you denied our bairn, you killed something inside me. Though I can defend myself with a sword, I doona ken how to protect my heart against your cruel words.”

  Ross could tell his arguments were having little effect on Gillian. He had all but fallen on his knees before her and had been rejected. The only thing left was to declare his love for her, and right now she was too angry and hurt to listen. “I doona want to tire you. We will speak of this later.”