by Paula Quinn
The wind stripped away her tears as she raced her mount onward with her father and Luke beside her and Ettarre running alongside their horses. She was determined to save anyone she could. Praying it wasn’t too late for Lachlan.
She felt as if she were going completely mad. Was it possible that she was never going to see him, feel him, kiss him again? He didn’t deserve death for what he did.
Who else would they find dead? Adam? Uncle Colin? Uncle Rob? Daniel? And who was to blame for it all? How could she not thunder onward, ignoring her physical pain and the worse pain in her heart? It wasn’t too late. It couldn’t be.
They finally arrived in Avoch just after sunrise. Their view of the castle was clear. Mailie’s insides dropped to her boots. Horses. Her kinsmen’s horses. Were they all dead?
She saw movement and kicked her mount’s flanks, following after her brother and father. What were they still doing here? Was Lachlan still alive?
“My children are inside!”
The bloodcurdling declaration froze Mailie to the pith of her heart. It was Lachlan! He was alive! Why was he shouting about the children? She reached the castle as Lachlan stood from his knees, breaking free of his restraints, and ploughed through everyone who stood in the way of him and the castle. Adam, unfortunately, was first.
She felt faint watching him lift her cousin and toss him aside. The men rushed at him, but he fought off each one with bone-crunching punches. He moved in a blur of speed, leaving the wounded in his wake. Before anyone could stop him, he reached his ax on the ground where he’d dropped it, then snatched it up and flung it end over end into the chest of Robert Graham.
“Get away from the doors!” Adam shouted, recovering and running toward Lachlan in the mayhem with his hands held up in surrender. “Everyone! Get away from his home!”
Mailie’s bones shook. He could kill them all. Fourteen men and the two who’d just arrived. She turned in her saddle. Where was her father? Her brother? Everyone was shouting or writhing on the ground.
“Yer children will no’ be harmed,” Adam shouted, getting his attention. “I give m’ word as the son of the clan chief MacGregor of Skye!”
His children. He was trying to protect his children. Mailie’s legs ached to run to him. He was alive and beautiful and deadly. She had to stop him before he hurt Adam or anyone else.
She found her brother giving orders for the men to lower their weapons. Thank ye, Luke. She slipped from her saddle and took an unsteady step forward. No one was around to stop her. She wouldn’t have let them if they tried.
“We didna know ye had bairns,” she heard Adam tell him.
She took another step. He saw her. Mailie knew in that instant, in the needful ache in his gaze, what her absence had done to him. She moved forward, ignoring the shouts to stop from her family. She wanted to be in his arms. She’d protect him from her kin, and protect them from him. She wanted to see their bairns.
Lachlan holding up his palm stopped her.
“How could they not know aboot the children?”
He was angry. He looked like a brooding, deadly beast, like he might snap his fangs at her hand if she held it up to his face. Bravely, she reached out. He thought she didn’t tell them about the children deliberately—because she didn’t care and wasn’t coming back. She should make him suffer a bit longer for thinking so little of her. But she felt weak being near him. She wanted to step into his arms and feel her life returning to her.
“They know nothin’, my love,” she told him, stepping closer.
She saw her father, her uncle, and a few others move toward her. She held up her hand to ward them off. “Faither, I must go to him. He is everything to me.”
Her father nodded, turning away. “I know.”
Mailie wiped her eyes and turned her loving gaze back to Lachlan. “I left because I couldna let ye give up yer search for Annabel. No matter how short the delay. If she lives. She needs ye.” He looked away, stricken, but she went on. “I heard some fishermen talkin’ about my kin being in Dingwall, and I thought to find them and to tell my faither that I wanted to live my life with ye. But I was struck in the head by my horse and nearly drowned in the River Conon. Ettarre saved me.”
He looked down at the dog sitting at his feet, her long blond tail wagging furiously. He petted her head. “Thank ye, Ettarre.”
“I woke up in Camlochlin four days later and was told ye were dead.”
He listened to her story with radiance returning to his face. She’d broken his heart and just mended it together again.
“I…I didna know,” he said, reaching for her. “I’m a fool to have doubted ye. Fergive me, Mailie.” He pulled her into his arms and gazed into her eyes as if she alone possessed what he needed to breathe. “I fear I would die withoot ye, my love.”
She went weak in his embrace as his mouth dipped to hers.
“Och!” her uncle Colin complained loudly while they kissed. “Come now! Tristan!” he pleaded, disgusted, when his brother shook his head.
“She loves him. What can I do?”
“Beat him senseless fer kidnapping yer daughter, and stealing yer dog!”
“Uncle Colin!” Mailie admonished, breaking her kiss with Lachlan.
Her uncle lowered his head, rightfully repentant.
With her uncle admonished, she waited while Lachlan apologized to her kin for almost killing them all. Thankfully, the MacGregors were mollified, all except her uncle Colin, who complained about riding all the way here and that there wasn’t going to be any fighting. She asked her cousins to please remove Mr. Graham’s body from sight. When that was done, and the wounded were back on their feet and on their way home for mending, she looked up at Lachlan from beneath his heavy arm and asked him to call the children out.
He did as she asked, smiling at her as if his front yard wasn’t filled with MacGregors.
Ettarre barked and ran for the heavy wooden doors as they began to open. Mailie’s blood rushed through her veins until she could no longer wait to see them, and took off racing after Ettarre.
The door pushed open, and her little Lily rushed out and up into Mailie’s arms. Amid a fresh well of tears and an abundance of kisses, she heard Lily’s voice against her ear.
“I thought ye werena comin’ back.”
“I will always come back,” Mailie promised.
“I knew ye’d come back.”
Mailie lowered his sister’s feet to the ground and bent to William. “I had a feelin’ ye would.” She smiled, remembering his fight with Ranald Fraser. “I was recoverin’ from an injury,” she told him, her eyes dripping more tears down her face. “I missed ye terribly.”
His lower lip trembled. “I missed ye too,” he said, and threw himself into her arms. She held him for a long time and then kissed his soft cheek. “Papa missed ye worse.”
She looked into his beautiful dark eyes. There it was; Lachlan was his father. Goodness, but she was stunned there was any moisture left in her body.
“Thank ye fer takin’ care of him while I was away.”
“I dinna mind.” He grinned at her.
“I know, and that’s what makes ye so noble. Ye’ll always strive to be noble and the very best man ye can be, aye, William?”
He nodded. “Aye. I promise.”
“Ruth!” Lachlan’s deep voice rang out, startling his wide-eyed and terrified maid. “Come and meet the MacGregors. They’ll be staying fer breakfast.”
Mailie caught his eye and smiled. “We’ll need more chairs.”
He went to her and took her hand in his as they stepped into the castle behind Ettarre and the children. “I’ve got plenty.”
Lachlan leaned against the doorframe and swept his gaze over the faces filling his kitchen. MacGregors, savage and ruthless, some of them as big as he was, all worked to vanquish Ruth’s fears with praise for her cooking, and their easy smiles and much bowing. It was Tristan though, with his charismatic tongue and courtly traits, who won over his longtime frie
nd.
He knew he still had to speak with Mailie’s father, and then…and then bid farewell to Annabel again, but for now he would enjoy these moments with the merciful men who would soon be his kin. And later they would ride together to Invergordon and end Sinclair’s threat once and for all.
His gaze settled on Mailie seated at the table with Lily in her lap and Will sitting beside her. Her laughter rang through his ears like church bells ushering in a new day. She said she hadn’t left him, but he’d almost lost her to the River Conon. He looked down at Ettarre sitting at his feet. “I owe ye much, gel.”
“He’s no’ goin’ to let ye take the hound too.”
Lachlan lifted his gaze to the man who’d saved his life. He smiled. “I’ve no intentions of taking her.”
Adam eyed Ettarre and sighed. “It willna be yer decision—or his.” He spared a brief glance to Mailie’s father. “Most of these hounds choose their people, no’ the other way around. I was beginnin’ to fear I’d lost Goliath to ye.”
“The children do indeed love Ettarre,” Lachlan said pensively.
“Ah.” Adam cast him a knowing grin. “Then yer intentions are no’ so firm.”
“We shall see.” Lachlan laughed softly with him. He liked Adam and was grateful to him for standing up for him to his kin.
“Fergive me fer tossing ye aboot earlier. I was not in my right state of mind. After ye showed me mercy, ye deserved more.”
Adam waved away his concern. “Dinna mention it too much or ye will spoil the reputation I’ve spent years masterin’.” He smiled and then winked, leaving Lachlan to wonder if he was serious or not.
Lachlan guessed part of his reputation had been built on the dark-haired Highlander’s lackadaisical demeanor, the frivolity in his smile. But he’d looked into compassionate eyes after Graham told them about Annabel. “Who do they think ye are?”
Adam smiled turning his eyes on his kin. “A careless rogue. Exactly who I want them to see.”
“Why do ye want them to see ye that way if it’s not who ye are?” Lachlan asked, curious.
Adam tossed him a brief, enigmatic grin. “Part of it is.”
“And the rest?”
Adam leaned his shoulder against the wall and shrugged the other. “I like to figure folks out and keep them guessing aboot the rest. ’Tis more entertaining.”
He was guarded. That’s fine. Lachlan wasn’t the prying type. What he knew of Adam was enough.
“Mailie was truthful aboot all of ye,” he said. “Ye’re honorable men.”
“Aye,” Adam agreed. “Honor isna always the same fer everyone, but we’re no’ so bad.” He cast his uncle a doubtful look. “Save fer Colin. He enjoys fightin’, a bit too much, in my opinion.”
“I gathered that.” Lachlan folded his arms across his chest and found Colin MacGregor laughing in the crowd of men. As if sensing Lachlan’s gaze, Colin turned to him, his laughter fading. The warrior still didn’t trust him. “And him?” he asked, motioning toward Tristan.
“The opposite,” Adam told him. “He prefers no’ to fight at all. But hold a weapon against him, and he’ll relieve ye of it in the time it takes to begin to blink.”
Mailie’s father approached now, and Lachlan hoped he’d have a better chance of gaining this man’s favor and forgiveness. He doubted it an instant later when Tristan’s eyes settled on Ettarre and then back on him.
“My dog likes ye.”
“The feeling is mutual, my lord,” Lachlan replied, his pulse accelerating. He no longer had to throw his life at Tristan’s feet to save it. Now he had the more difficult task of presenting his heart and praying that somehow it was found worthy.
He wanted to be accepted into this clan more for Mailie’s sake than for his. He looked at her and their children, at Ruth, and then, as if they had a will of their own, his eyes dipped to Ettarre. He had his family, and they were all he needed.
“May we go somewhere and speak in private?” her father asked, breaking through his thoughts.
“Of course,” Lachlan answered, sweeping his arm out before him. “My study is doun the hall.”
Colin and a few others, including Adam, immediately moved to follow them, but Tristan held up his hand to stop them. “I willna have ye all there to terrorize him into speaking what he thinks I want to hear.”
“They are welcome to join us if they wish,” Lachlan countered. “What I want to say willna change.”
“Oh?” Her father lifted his brow. “My kin dinna terrorize ye, then?”
“I’ve been terrorized by the unimaginable, my lord. Little else comes close.”
“Uncle, d’ye jest?” Adam asked incredulously as he passed between them. “Did ye no’ see him plough through the lot of us as if we were naught but vapor? What does he have to fear from us?”
“In case you’re wondering if he’s willing to fight some of us,” General Marlow said, leaving the kitchen next, “he’s already asked that if he must fight, he fight us all in order to tire him out so to cause us less injury.”
“He’s arrogant,” Colin muttered, entering the hall.
“He has good reason to be,” Darach pointed out, holding his thumb over his shoulder. “No one has been able to break Duff’s nose, ’til today.”
“Apologies fer that,” Lachlan offered the strapping Highlander behind Darach.
“None necessary,” Duff said, smiling through the swelling. “I’m certain there will be a celebration over it at Camlochlin.”
The others agreed with a round of cheers and laughter for Duff’s broken nose.
The last man out was Luke, Mailie’s brother. He stopped when he came to Lachlan. “I’d like a chance to prove that all of us willna go doun so easily. I know my sister loves ye. She did nothin’ but weep over ye until I thought I’d go mad from the longin’ in it. But ye put us through hell and ye should answer fer that.”
“Ye’re correct, I should,” Lachlan agreed. “I’ll take whatever punishment ye want to hand out, save anything that includes losing yer sister. I willna agree to that.”
He caught the slightest twitch in her brother’s muscles. He knew a massive fist was coming and readied himself for it. It came, and it came hard, bending his neck back and slicing open his lower lip.
Blood dripped to his chin. Lachlan wiped it, then lowered his arms to his sides. He looked at her father. Tristan MacGregor smiled at him for the first time. He nodded and moved on.
One punch had thankfully satisfied her brother. Lachlan was glad. He was sure a few more of them would have knocked him out.
He led them to the study with Ettarre and Goliath on their heels.
Upon entering, some took a seat on the settee, while Colin fell into Lachlan’s chair by the low hearth fire, and Tristan and his son scanned the seemingly endless titles on his bookshelves.
“No wonder ye won her over,” her father said, looking at all the books. “She likes her stories.”
“We all do,” Lachlan agreed.
He stayed with them for over an hour, telling them everything and mostly how Mailie had made his life worth living again.
“What are yer intentions toward her?” her father finally asked.
“To take her as my wife with yer blessing.”
He hadn’t given it to Sinclair when the bastard earl had done so much less at the time of his proposal. What would he and Mailie do if her father refused to give his blessing? “I can protect her, provide fer her, and I promise ye, I have put her above all others.”
“Aye,” Tristan said in a low voice. “I see that. She is my babe, MacKenzie.”
“I know,” Lachlan said, lowering his gaze.
“I want the best fer her, and according to her, the best is ye. From what I’ve seen and heard so far, I tend to agree.” He smiled when Lachlan lifted his gaze to him. “So aye, ye have my blessing.”
“’Tis a good thing everyone accepted my decision and didna kill him, aye?” Adam leaned in to his brother-in-law’s ear and smiled, li
stening to all the men in the study give their approval after Tristan gave his blessing.
“Ye made a good decision, Adam.” Daniel offered him a slow, slightly menacing smile. “Do you want a round of clapping when you take your next piss?”
Adam tossed him a lighthearted grin. “I’ll forgo the applause if ye’ll tell me why ye trusted the decision with me.”
“Because yer sister wasn’t here,” Marlow said, and rose to leave the study with the others. He paused and turned back to Adam. “And because you’re not always the arse Abby thinks you are. But don’t tell her I said that.”
Adam smiled at him. Of course he’d tell her.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Mailie watched her kin file back into the kitchen. How had it gone with Lachlan? She should have gone with them to the study. But they would have thought less of Lachlan if she were there to protect him. It was no consolation that the men were in good spirits, laughing and pounding one another on the back. They would have done the same if they left him bleeding in his favorite chair.
Her brother stepped into the kitchen next with a book in his hand. No shock there.
Finally, she saw her father. He was smiling. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? She went to him. “Where’s Lachlan?”
He looked around and then down at his boots, his smile fading a bit. “With Ettarre, I suppose.”
God’s mercy, was he truly losing his dog to Lachlan? “Faither—”
The soft glow of firelight reflected in his warm hazel eyes when he lifted them to her again. “She is free to be with whoever she chooses.”
“And me?” She didn’t mean to blurt it out. She had to know what happened in the study.
“Ye are my daughter.”
Her heart faltered. Aye, she was. She loved and admired him. She would do anything to please him, but she wouldn’t give up Lachlan.
“He begged my mercy,” her father told her, taking her hand. “And then he begged me fer ye.”
Her bottom lip trembled. She wouldn’t weep. Not again.
