Fraser 01 - Highland Legacy (24 page)

“Halt where you are, or I’ll slit her throat.” Borden pressed the blade against Cailin’s neck.

“Release her now. Most of your men are dead, and those that were able have run off. You have nothing to gain by killing Cailin.”

“You’re bluffing, and I have no intention of setting her free. Lay down your sword, and move aside.”

Connor took another step in their direction. “Only a spineless coward hides behind the skirts of a woman. Harm one hair on her head, and I’ll reach down your throat and pull your heart out with my bare hands. That is if you have a heart.”

“I said, don’t come any closer.” Borden shuffled backward, his heels resting on the edge of the cliff. “I’ll toss her over if you don’t back off!”

Connor’s heart pounded wildly and his chest tightened. He could scarcely draw a breath. They stood so close to the edge that a strong gust of wind could send them both plummeting to their deaths on the rocky crags below.

A single tear rolled down Cailin’s cheek, and a thin red line appeared across her neck, blood tricking across the blade.

Connor stopped his advance. “If you need a hostage, take me instead. If you desire blood, take mine.” He lowered his sword and held his arms out to the sides in an open plea. “There is no honor in killing a defenseless woman.”

“What does the son of a Scottish whore know about honor? I will be doing the world a favor if I kill the witch and the devil’s spawn she carries. I rue the day she crossed my path. I was a rich man, a lord in high standing with the king and his minions. When I present her to Edward, I’ll regain his favor, and he’ll drop all notions of taking my title, my land, and Carlisle Castle. I have nothing to lose, and everything to gain.”

“Let her go. You have no hope of escaping.”

Borden laughed. “I’ll let her go when Hell freezes and I am crowned King of England.” Teetering on the edge of the cliff, he quickly glanced over his shoulder.

Connor sucked in a sharp breath. He had to do something and had to do it fast.

“She is responsible for my brother’s death, and I demand restitution. Poor Harold had only seen thirty summers and was in his prime. He—”

“You know I killed your brother. The swine tried to rape her, and I was not about to let that happen.”

“You lie to protect her!” Borden’s eyes flashed with anger. “Regardless of whether she wielded the dirk or not, she is the reason Harold is dead.”

“The lass committed no crime. I’m the one you have issue with.”

“Ah, but you’re wrong. If what you claim is true, then I have issue with both of you. Because of that, her death will be more poignant than ever. The tribunal has spoken, and she will be executed for my brother’s murder. And you will die knowing her life was forfeited because of your deed.” Borden threw back his head and laughed.

“If you don’t want to see her broken body on the rocks below, I’d suggest you toss your weapon over the cliff and let us pass.”

“You are in no position to issue orders,” Connor replied.

“Neither are you,” Borden snarled.

“Connor, please do as Lord Borden asks. I dinna want to die.”

It wasn’t like Cailin to show fear or to surrender, yet her voice trembled when she spoke. Her eyes widened as she stared beyond him.

“I’d listen to the lady if I were you.”

The sneer on Borden’s face made Connor’s blood boil. It took every ounce of self-control not to tear him apart with his bare hands.

“Connor, please, think of the babe.” Cailin clutched at her belly, and her knees buckled.

Borden’s eye widened as he frantically clutched the arrow protruding from his neck. He met Connor’s gaze, then disappeared with a wild cry over the edge of the cliff.

Connor dropped his sword and lunged forward. His finger wrapped around Cailin’s arm as she crumpled to the ground. He hauled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. He glanced over his shoulder when Bryce stepped into the path with a bow in hand. “Good aim, brother.”

“It was a lucky shot.” He peered over the cliff, then nodded at his brother. “He’ll never do anything to harm her again.”

Connor looked down at Cailin, huddled in his arms. Her entire body trembled, and she buried her face against his chest. “You’re safe,
liuadhe.
” He closed his eyes and swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. The reality of how close he’d come to losing her hit him like a blow to the chest. He couldn’t hold her tight enough, afraid if he let go, she’d vanish.

Cailin peered up at him with tear-filled eyes. “I was certain he’d kill me. That was until I saw Bryce hiding in the forest.”

Connor rocked her in his arms. “He will never harm you again.”

“Aye, but I am still wanted for murder. Now that Borden is dead, the truth dies with him. Longshanks will send someone else in his stead.”

“No one will ever take you from me again. We will find a way to clear your name, but in the meantime, we need to get you somewhere safe and warm.” Connor lifted her in his arms and carried her toward the cart.

“Beauly is at least a five-day ride, and Buccleuch two hours. We will go back, so Fallon can see to you and the babe.” He jumped onto the driver’s seat and picked up the reins.

“What about Thor, and the wounded?” Bryce asked.

“You can bring Thor. How many wounded?” He’d been so worried about Cailin, he hadn’t given any thought to the outcome of the battle.

“We lost Douglas, and John took an arrow to the shoulder. There are seven dead English soldiers and three wounded prisoners. The rest ran off.”

“Alasdair?”

“He’s fine.”

“Tie the prisoners to a tree, and leave two men to guard them. See to John’s injuries, and then bring him back to Buccleuch. I will ask Michael to send a garrison to gather the dead.”

Three months later, Fraser Castle.

Well-wishers filled the hall, and with the stage set, all Connor needed was his bride.

Bryce came up from behind and slid his hand over his brother’s shoulder. “You look like you have seen St. Stephen’s ghost.”

Connor shifted his weight from one foot to the other and glanced toward the stairs. “What if she turns me down? After everything she has been through, I wouldn’t blame her if she wants to end the handfast when the year is over.”

“Then she’d finally be showing some sense. If she’s smart, she’ll run the other way while there is still time.” Alasdair joined his brothers and let out a loud belly-laugh.

“Dinna pay him any mind. He’s a buffoon and knows not what he says.” Bryce glared at his oldest brother, then returned his attention to Connor. “The lass loves you, and you love her. She carries your babe, and nothing is going to change her mind about marrying you.”

“I jest, brother.” Alasdair reached into his sporran, and pulled out a small velvet sack. He grabbed Connor’s wrist, dumped the content of the pouch into his brother’s hand, and closed his fist around the ring and pendant. “A gift for your bride.”

“These were our mother’s.” Connor gasped with surprise. “I forgot that you carried them with you for luck.”

“She’d want Cailin to have them,” Alasdair replied.

In keeping with tradition, their father gave his mother’s prized possessions to their oldest brother, Keith, the day after her funeral and bid he give them to his future wife. But with Keith’s untimely death at Berwick on the Tweed, they were then passed down to Alasdair. Of great sentimental value, he’d carried them as a talisman, a good luck charm ever since.

“Thank you. She’ll love them.” Connor sputtered, choked by his brother’s gesture. Cailin had never known her mother and after giving birth to five sons, his own mother had longed for a daughter over which she could fuss. He opened his hand and studied the ring, a delicate band of Celtic knots surrounding a thistle. The matching gold pendant held an emerald as green as Cailin’s eyes. “Mother would have adored her, and the babe she carries.”

“Mother would have spoiled them both. Since I never plan to marry and you are the clan chief, it only seems fitting they should go to your bride.” Alasdair turned his head, wiping his hand across his eyes.

“You say that now. Wait until some beauty comes along and leaves you breathless. You’ll be singing a different tune then,” Bryce interjected.

Alasdair faced his youngest brother and grinned. “Are you trying to tell us something? Have you been bitten by the same bug as Connor? Mayhap seeing Fallon again has given you ideas.”

“You’re spouting nonsense as usual.” Bryce glared at his brothers.

Alasdair gave Connor a knowing glance. “I told you he’s smitten.”

“Dinna be rushing, my lady, you’ve plenty of time. Just a few more steps and we’ll be in the great hall.” The lilting sound of Fallon’s voice echoed down the stairs, interrupting the banter between the three brothers.

A hush fell over the room when Lady Scott rushed into the hall and brought her finger to lips—a signal for all to hold their tongues. “They are on their way down, and I’m sure Cailin has no idea what you’re about.” She looked at Connor and smiled.

“I am so glad you came for a visit, Fallon. Mayhap you can convince Laird and Lady Scott to stay until after my babe is born.”

“Lady Scott told her husband she is not about to leave until she holds your wee one in her arms.”

“I appreciate your help. At Connor’s insistence, I have spent a good deal of time in bed these last few weeks. I’m afraid my legs are a wee bit shaky.”

“It is to be expected when you are this far along. Take your time. There is no need to hurry,” Fallon cautioned.

When Connor heard the conversation between the two women, he fought the urge to rush up the stairs and carry Cailin down the rest of the way. But to do so would spoil the surprise. If he could be patient a moment longer, she would be at his side, where she belonged. They’d exchange vows, then settle in for the largest
ceildh
the castle had ever seen.

When Fallon and Cailin reached the bottom of the stairs, and rounded the corner, a cheer burst from the crowd. Both women jumped. Cailin clutched at her chest and drew in a sharp gulp of air. “What is all of this?”

Connor stepped forward and took her hand. “Your wedding,
mo gaol
. If you’ll have me.”

“About time it is, too,” Alasdair bellowed. “The wee lassie is near to bursting with your babe, and if you wait any longer, she will not be able to walk to the dais.” A stab of Bryce’s elbow directed at his ribs silenced him.

Cailin slid her hand over her swollen belly and smiled. “He speaks the truth. I’ve grown as large as a croft.” She looked at the clergyman standing near the laird’s table and her brow furrowed. “How can we marry without the reading of the banns? I have no dowry, and—”

Connor placed two fingers over her lips, silencing her. “There is nothing to worry about. A priest can forego the reading of banns if there is just cause.” His grin broadened as he stroked her belly. “Dinna be concerned about a dowry. I already have more wealth and own more land than I need. Having you by my side is reward enough. My life will be enriched beyond my wildest dreams.” He dropped to one knee. “You are the most beautiful creature on the face of the earth, and you’ve held me spellbound since the day we met.” He lifted her hand and pressed the back of it to his lips. “Before the Almighty and these witnesses, I ask you, Lady Cailin, of the Clan Macmillan, will you have me for your husband?”

“Aye, nothing would make me happier,” she answered on a breathy sigh.

Michael Scott joined the couple at the foot of the stairs. “Come, the priest waits to perform the nuptials.” He stepped aside, motioning with the sweep of his arm toward the dais where the clergyman waited.

“
Tha mise Connor Fraser, a-nis ’gad ghabhail-sa Cailin Macmillan gus an dean—” He
began his vows, but hesitated when he saw the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Are you not happy,
mo gaol
?”

She sniffled and raised her chin. “I’m very happy. Joy summons my tears, not sadness. My heart is about to burst with it. Since I was a wee lass, I’ve dreamed about this day, but never thought it would happen. I never dared to believe.”

“Believe,
liuadhe
,” Connor replied in a soothing voice. He tucked two fingers beneath her chin and brushed her lips with his own.

The priest coughed and cleared his throat. “Shall we continue?”

“Aye.” He nodded and began his vows again. “I Connor Fraser, take you, Cailin Macmillan, to be my wife. I will honor you and protect you, until death sees fit to part us.” His eyes searched hers as he waited for a reply—one she offered with equal sincerity and enthusiasm.

Caught up in the moment, Cailin put all of the fear, pain, and suffering of the last few months out of her mind, concentrating on her wedding vows, on her handsome husband, and their future as man and wife. He still hadn’t told her that he loved her, but when Connor slipped the ring on her finger and draped the pendant around her neck, her heart leapt with such joy, she thought it would shatter with happiness. She stared at the ring and clutched the pendant with her free hand. “They’re beautiful. Where did you get them?”

“They belonged to my mother, and to my father’s mother before that. They’ve been in the Fraser family for more than two hundred summers. After our mother died, it was Da’s wish that they be given to next Lady Fraser and passed on to the generations to come. It would please them both to know you wear them.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks. “No one has ever given me such a wonderful gift. I will cherish them for as long as I live.”

“Then it is way past due.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, then to the ring on her hand. “Cailin, you are my heart and soul. I will protect and provide for you and our children all the days of my life.”

With their vows said and the ceremony completed, he dipped his head and kissed his bride. Cheers and whistles filled the air when he slid his arm beneath her legs and lifted her. “Lady Fraser, it will be my pleasure to see you to the dais and later to our chamber.” He didn’t need to elaborate. The wolfish grin on his face said it all.

The heat of a blush rose in her cheeks. “You forget, husband, that I’m about bursting with your bairn. I hardly think you’ll find me attractive or an alluring partner in your bed.”

“On the contrary, wife, I have never been more aroused or enticed by a woman. Seeing you swollen with my babe fires a lust I can hardly contain.” He dropped his head and kissed her soundly.

“That can wait until later.” Michael laughed and patted Connor on the shoulder. “May I be the first to congratulate you on your nuptials Lady Fraser?” He took Cailin’s hand, bowed, then looked at Connor with a raised brow. “To you, my friend, I wish happiness and many more babes.”

“Thank you, Laird Scott.” Still tucked securely in her husband’s arms, Cailin rested her head on his chest. “You could put me down and let me walk.”

“You will do as you’re told, wife, and I will put you down when I’m ready.” He carried her to the dais, set her on a chair, and sat in the one to her left.

Laird and Lady Scott joined them, as did Bryce and Alasdair. Michael remained standing and raised his tankard in the air. “May the best you’ve ever seen be the worst you’ve ever seen. May you always walk on the sunny side with much love and few cares. May you stay hale and hardy until you’re old enough to die. And may you both be in Heaven before the devil knows you’re gone. Long may your chimney smoke, and may the Almighty bless your home with more bairns than you can count. May—”

Lady Scott touched her husband’s arm. “Enough said, my lord. If you keep haivering, they’ll be old and grey, their bairn grown to a man before the toast is done.”

He cleared his throat, and looked at the bride and groom. “Err...umm, as always, my wife has a point.” Laird Scott concluded his speech, and then downed the contents of his tankard in one gulp.

Cheers erupted again throughout the hall, and every tankard was lifted in good wishes. In response, Connor rose to his feet and picked up his mug of ale. “I would like to thank Laird and Lady Scott for all they have done for us. We will be eternally grateful. Not only for the lodging you provided, but for your friendship.” He raised his tankard in the air. “Please join me in a toast to good friends and to Scotland.”

“
A Fraser
!” The crowd joined him in the clan war cry.

Connor took Cailin’s hand and led her to the center of the hall. “May I have this dance, Lady Fraser? It is tradition for the bride and groom to—”

“I dinna think this is a good time to dance.” She doubled over in pain. “My birth-water has broken and the babe comes.”

“A birthing room is no place for a man. Leave us to do our work.” Fallon blocked the door, refusing to let Connor in.

“I was present when the babe was created, and I’ll be damned if you’ll forbid me to be there when he’s born. We’ve been through too much, and come too far. No one will keep me from her side. Now get out of my way, and let me go to my wife.” He grasped Fallon’s shoulders, moved her aside, and stepped into the chamber.

Lady Scott placed her hand on Connor’s forearm. “Fallon is right. This is no place for a man. She could labor for hours, mayhap days.”

“Then there’s all the more reason for me to be at her side. You’ll not sway me in this. I mean to stay. You have managed to keep me out for two hours, and bid me walk around the perimeter of the castle more times than I can count, but I will not be put off any longer.” Ignoring the women’s protest, he stormed across the chamber, but paused at the foot of the bed.

His heart clenched, and he balled his fists at his side. She was so small and frail, her body and night rail soaked with perspiration. Cailin thrashed about in delirium, moaning and mumbling his name. Unable to bear the sight of her suffering, he turned to Fallon. “Is there nothing you can do to ease her torment?” His voice was thick with emotion.

“Unfortunately, the pain is part of the birthing process. We must wait and let the Almighty decide her fate, and that of the babe.” Fallon joined him beside the bed. “We put a knife under her mattress to cut the pain, and you’ve encircled the castle as we requested. I’ve prepared a tea of willow bark and comfrey, but she is too weak to drink it.”

Connor sat on the edge of the bed. He lifted Cailin enough to slip in behind her and gathered her in his arms. “Give me the cup.” He raised it to her lips and spoke softly. “You must drink this. It will ease your pain.”

“Connor,” she said in a raspy whisper.

“Aye,
liuadhe
, I’m here. You can do this. My son wishes to be born.” He brought the cup to her lips.

After drinking her fill, her head dropped back against his chest. Tears welled in her eyes, and she released a soft sob.

“I know it hurts. If I could take the pain away or bear it for you, I would.” He swept his fingers across her cheek, catching the tears as they fell.

“It is not the pain.”

“Then tell me what has you so upset.”

“You have your heart set on a son.”

“Aye. All men wish for sons, but why should that distress you?”

“What if the babe is a lass?”

“A lass?” He paused to think about what she asked. She’d referred to the babe as a boy for so long, he’d started to do the same. He gazed into her eyes and smiled. “Then I would be the happiest man in all of Scotland. I would love to have a wee lassie to pamper and spoil—especially if she looks anything like her mother.” He felt the air rush from her lungs as she released a sigh.

“You will not be disappointed if the babe is a lass?” She sniffled and peered up at him, her eyes wide and questioning.

“I’d love and cherish a daughter, as I do her mother.” He pressed a kiss to her lips.

“You love me?”

“Aye, I love you more than my life. I thought you knew that.”

Cailin closed her eyes and a smile crossed her lips. “I love you, too, Connor, with all my heart.” Another contraction caused her back to arch and her belly to clench. She gripped his hand, and together they waited for the arrival of their child.

Late the next day, Connor paced the floor, his brow creased with worry. “Why hasn’t she woken up? Five hours have passed since she gave birth.” He turned to face Fallon, a small bundle wrapped in plaid nestled in his arms.

“She’ll wake when ready,” Fallon assured him. “She had a very rough go of it and needs to rest.”

“What if she doesn’t wake up?” Connor found it hard to hide the tension and worry in his voice.

“Dinna
fash,
Connor,” Cailin muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. Her lashes fluttered against her ashen cheeks, then she slowly opened her eyes.

“I’m here,
mo gaol
...we’re here.” He sat on the bed beside her, just as the babe started to cry.

“The babe is hungry,” Fallon announced with a smile.

“My babe.” Cailin reached for the bundle her husband carried.

“Our son is a hale and hardy lad,” Connor announced proudly. He placed the babe in her arms, then kissed her brow.

“A boy? We have a son?” Tears rolled down Cailin’s cheeks.

“Aye, and I’d like to name him Andrew Simon, after my father and cousin. I hope you approve.”

“I think it is a wonderful name.” She folded back the plaid, examining their son. He was the image of his father. After counting his fingers and toes, she looked up at Fallon. “He is so small. Are you certain he’s all right?”