Highland Moonlight (41 page)

to hide from Alexander.”

Collin took a threatening step toward her. “Had you not taken that devil

to your bed there would not have been a need for any of this.” He pointed his

finger in her face. “‘Tis your fault your sister’s husband is dead.”

She gasped in outraged dismay. Her suspicions had been true.

Collin’s features appeared gaunt in the firelight. He drew himself up.

“Call the men together. We are taking our leave of this Glen of Peace.”

“You will not ride without me, will you, Father?” Gavin asked as he

stepped into the light of the fire.

Mary reeled beneath the crushing blow of betrayal, her gaze seeking

her brother’s face. How could he be a party to this?

****

him drawing his attention.

“‘Tis a wonder to watch you, Brother. ‘Tis with Mary you wish to be, why

are you not there?” he asked.

He frowned. “Are you claiming to be able to read thoughts now,

Duncan?”

“It does not take a seer’s gift to know you wish to go upstairs to your

chamber, Alexander. Your eyes have strewn to the stairs more times than I

can count in the last hour. You may take your leave of us and seek your rest.

Anne has retired and Collin and Bearach have retired to the camp with

Collin’s men.”

“Aye, that is what keeps me here. Mary has readied chambers for them

here at the castle and they chose to sleep at the camp with Collin’s men.

There is something afoot.”

Derek and Anabal entered the hall with Grace and wove their way

through the sleeping men littering the hall. “There is no one at Tira’s hut in

the village, Alexander. Are they here?” Derek asked.

“Who do you seek, Derek?” he asked, confused.

“Grace said Cassidy had been badly burned and Tira sought Mary to

tend him. Mary sent Grace to bring me to tend the boy and Anabal to tend

her. She was laboring.”

In shocked surprise, Alexander’s gaze swung to Duncan and the two

gazed at each other. Why had she not sent Grace to tell him? He leaped to

his feet and ran to the stairs. He took the steps two at a time then raced

down the many corridors. Breathing heavily, he rounded the passageway to

their chamber and flung open the door. Mary’s name broke from his lips as

his gaze searched the room. He strode forward to the gardrobe and jerked

aside the curtain. The room was empty.

As he returned to the hall, Duncan met him at the top of the stairs.

“Gabriel has been found outside the village, he has been beaten. The

MacLachlans have left their camp and the horses are gone.”

Alexander swore. “They’ve taken Mary and are on the run.”

Guilt crashed down on him with brutal weight and he raked his hands

through his hair. Why had he not guarded his wife as closely as he had her

sister? “Wake the men. We will ride to cut them off before they reach the

borders of our land and escape.” His gaze moved about the hall. “Where is

Gavin?” he demanded.

Duncan hesitated. “I do not know. He may have ridden with them.”

****

soothed. He bent to boost her into the saddle.

Unable to raise her leg, Mary gripped the horn of the saddle as

another contraction had its way with her. They were growing stronger and

coming with more frequency.

“If you can not get her astride that horse, I’ll have her thrown across

one,” Collin snarled. “We do not have time to waste.”

Mary sensed Gavin’s anger though his features were indiscernible in

the shadowed darkness beneath the trees.

“Come, Mary,” he urged.

She fit her foot into his cupped hands and he boosted her upward. As

she settled into the saddle, her thoughts turned to Alexander. He had been

wary of her being on horseback lest she fall off and injure herself or the

bairn. She wondered how close his men might be. “Hurry Alexander,” she

murmured as another contraction struck.

Gavin swung himself astride the animal behind her. “Try to rest

between the pains.”

“‘Tis difficult,” She managed.

Tira’s shriek of distress made her cringe. Bearach had dragged her

from the back of his horse moments after they had halted and disappeared

into the brush with her. The heavy grunts coming from just beyond the

bushes left little doubt what he was about. She felt sick for Tira. The woman

had more than paid for her trickery with the abuse her father and Bearach

heaped on her.

The MacLachlan clansmen, mounted and ready, held a silence that

seemed as filled with disgust as she felt.

“Mayhap you should call your pig to mount his horse, Collin. ‘Tis he

who keeps us waiting now,” she taunted, hoping to cut short the woman’s

ordeal. “How can you wish to wed your own flesh and blood to such as he?”

Collin did not answer, but roared Bearach’s name.

He appeared from the shadows. Tira’s shoulder showed pale and

smooth through a rent in her clothing, and her mouth was dark with blood

as he dragged her forward by the wrist. “This Campbell whore tempts me

sorely, Collin.”

“After we are away you may do whatever you wish with her, but for now,

get on your horse.” Collin snapped, his tone strained.

The night air held a chill. Sweat beaded Mary’s forehead and wet the

hair at her nape making her shiver. Trickles of moisture ran between her

breasts and she longed for a cloth to wipe them away. The jarring

movement of the horse beneath her, made every contraction seem endless.

The sky became a milky blue as the sun appeared over the horizon.

She turned her face from its glow as once again, a grip of agonizing pain

seized her. A cry rose in her throat she refused to voice, though her body

arched against the hurt. She gripped Gavin’s forearm hard. She did not

know how much longer she could bear this.

****

full gallop as the path became flat and wide. Urgency clawed at him talon

sharp. Mary and the bairn could be killed by such a ride. They had to

overtake them.

To his left, Duncan and David kept pace with him. To his right, Anne

eased her mount further forward. The usual single file formation had been

cast aside by them all. The fifty Campbell clansmen rode behind them four

deep as well.

The early morning light eased their way down the valley to the rocky

burn leading upward. Thick clumps of trees embraced the mouth of the

valley, lending cover to any who would lay in wait. Alexander slowed the

pace, his gaze raking the area for any threat. If Collin were fool enough to

abduct Mary and run, he could be bold enough to try to attack as well.

Alexander felt certain Bearach’s men were close by. Rage fired within him

spurring him forward. He would no longer temper his dealings with Collin

with mercy. He would kill the bastard and be done with him, for good.

****

without ease. Her back felt as though it might split asunder beneath the

pressure of it. A burst of fluid came from between her legs, wetting her

gown and running down her legs.

Gavin reined the animal to a stop and dismounted. Mary fell into his

upraised arms as she slid from the horses back. With cautious haste, he

eased her down on the ground.

The men behind came to a halt, their horses milling the ground

around them. Collin circled, then came within a few feet of where Mary lay.

“Get her back on that horse,” he snarled.

The bairn is coming,” Gavin snapped in return. “What would you have

her do, give birth upon its back?” He cradled Mary back against him, giving

her support.

The urge to push was overwhelming. Mary grimaced as she bore

down hard, a cry of anguish escaping her.

“She had best be quick about it,” Collin threatened.

A murmured oath came from within the ranks of men close by,

drawing Collin’s attention away from the two of them.

“Where is Tira? Mary needs her.” Gavin snapped his voice hoarse with

emotion.

Bearach rode forward. Tira slid down from behind him and limped

forward. Her lip was raw and split, her face on one side swollen and

blackened by a bruise. Her hair hung about her shoulders, limp and

tangled. The dullness of shock had temporarily drained her features of

expression. Her green eyes remained blank, as she stood over Mary,

unmoving.

“Help her,” Gavin thundered.

Overwhelmed by the natural urge to bring her child into the world, Mary

was only vaguely aware of the woman kneeling at her braced feet. Tira

folded back the skirt of Mary’s gown and kirtle, baring her legs. The

MacLachlan clansmen rode a short distance away and dismounted, giving

her some privacy.

Mary groaned and panted as she bore down again and again. Every

muscle knotted with her concentrated effort to expelling the child from her

body.

“The bairn’s head is showing,” Tira announced finally, her speech

affected by her swollen mouth.

Mary’s cries of effort grew shrill with pain as the babe’s head thrust

from her. Tira wiped the tiny face with a fold of the kirtle. The unrelenting

pressure twisted a scream of agony from Mary, as Tira worked the child’s

shoulders free. The tiny body slithered pink and wet into the woman’s

hands.

For several tense moments, the babe made no sound. Tira cleared

the child’s mouth with the kirtle and rubbed his back. A high, sweet cry

issued forth as he breathed his first full breath. Mary’s head fell back

against Gavin’s shoulder as the weakness of relief swamped her. With

clumsy discordant movements, she dragged the tartan shawl from around

her waist and offered it to Tira.

Tira worked a long thread free from the fabric and used it to tie off the

umbilical cord. Gavin offered his dagger for her to cut it. The woman’s face

shone wet with tears as she thrust the dagger into the band at her waist

and wrapped the new life within the tartan. “He is a bonny lad,” she

murmured as she looked down into the child’s face. She rose to carry the

babe to his mother’s side and placed him carefully in Mary’s arms.

“He has the mark of his sire upon him,” Gavin said dryly. “Poor lad.”

Mary’s gaze took in the crop of sable red hair with a sense of surprised

familiarity. To see her husband’s features stamped in miniature on the tiny

face, brought a smile to her lips. The babe’s eyes squinted in an effort to

avoid the sunlight or to focus, or both. His tiny fist waved about in the air.

Mary’s gaze went to Tira’s abused face. “Thank you, Tira.”

The woman’s tears came more quickly.

“Be done with it, and be quick,” Collin ordered, disrupting the joy of the

moment.

Tira rose to return to the business at hand. She pressed down hard on

Mary’s abdomen as she pulled to help her expel the afterbirth. It came forth

with a gush.

“You can not mean for Mary to ride further, Collin,” Gavin protested.

“Aye, she will or I’ll kill that wee Campbell bastard she has born. Give

him to me.” Collin rode dangerously close.

“Nay,” Mary cried in fear, her arms tightening around the infant as she

twisted away from the dancing hooves. The idea, of Collin so much as

touching the babe, brought with it a surge of maternal protectiveness and

fear.

“Get on the horse, Mary.”

Gavin swore. He eased away and bent to help her to her feet. “I will kill

him should he touch you or your bairn, Sister.” His blue eyes gleamed with

an uncontrolled rage.

Struck by the violent trembling of reaction, Mary grew fearful of

dropping the bairn. She unwound the fabric of the shawl from the child and

instructed Gavin to tie it diagonally across her body over her shoulder and

around her waist, creating a sling. Cradling the babe protectively within the

pouch against her breast, she mounted the horse with difficulty. Blood and

fluid stained the fabric of her kirtle and surcoat making the gown cling to her

legs uncomfortably. She ached in every part of her body.

“Clean your hands, wench,” Bearach demanded as he rode forward.

With a smile of unadulterated defiance that looked more like a

grimace, Tira rubbed the slimy residue on her arms and over her gown.

“You’ll soon learn your place, wench.” Bearach charged at her, but she

jumped aside. “‘Tis not on my horse you’ll be riding.”

Tira laughed aloud. “You snuffling pig, I would rather walk to hell than

ride with you again.”

Collin motioned to one of his men and he rode forward to offer her a

hand. Tira shunned him.

“Kill her,” Collin ordered, then urged his horse forward.

“Take his hand, Tira,” Mary pleaded.

With open reluctance, the woman complied and allowed the man to