In the Highlander's Bed (23 page)

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“I don’t want to be that angry man.” And yet, it was too late to turn back.

“Then what are we to do?” she whispered.

“What we must,” he answered, the words hard to speak.

“Please God save us,” she said.

Yes, God save them.

Gordon dropped the reins to the ground, a signal for Tempest to stand. He walked up to meet Colster.

“Lachlan,” the duke said in greeting.

“Your Grace.” Gordon couldn’t keep the irony from his voice. If Colster heard it, he gave no reaction.

He truly had become ducal.

His expression stony, Colster said, “I’ve brought the sword, but I have one condition before I agree to give it to you.”

Gordon’s guard went up. “You are in no position to ask for conditions.”Perhaps he couldkeep Constance with him.

“I am,” Colster contradicted him. “I wish to talk to your men. They have a right to hear what I have to say.” The duke had raised his voice so it carried to all corners of the field.

Shaking his head, Gordon said, “Come now, Tavis. What trick do you play?”

“No trick,” Colster answered. “An opportunity to speak in exchange for the sword. My brother doesn’t want you to have it. He tells me that handing it over to you could be considered treasonous since we know you will use it against the Crown. I’m asking for a few moments. Nothing more. I have an offer to make, something each of your men will want to know.”

“And what is the offer?”

Colster gave him a grim smile. “You’ll hear it when I talk to my clansmen.”

“You are not a part of us any longer,” Gordon said.

The duke’s gaze narrowed. “Would you stop me?” he challenged, and began walking toward the Scots.

He stopped when he reached Constance’s side.

Gordon stood by the sword, almost afraid to leave it. This weapon had become his holy grail, and he knew he must be alert to some sort of trickery.

Thomas and the others had placed their hands on the hilt of their pistols and swords.

Lord Phillip, Alex Haddon, and Colster’s men moved to do the same. They didn’t appear any more pleased with Colster’s actions than Gordon was. Constance’s sisters watched with worried silence.

The duke raised his voice, addressing the Scots and saying, “You believe the Sword of the MacKenna
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will take you to victory. You’re wrong. There is no victory in civil war, and that’s what you’d be doing. I know a good number of you men. I lived amongst you. I’ve heard your stories. I can’t give back your homes, but I can offer something else. I have land in England. I have enough to deed to each of my clansmen—those who followed Laird MacKenna in his ill-advised rebellion—a parcel. You can use this land to rebuild your lives, to let your children grow healthy and strong.”

The duke pointed to the sword in the ground. “There is the Sword of the MacKenna. Those who wish to pledge their allegiance to it may do so. Those who want something more for their children, come to me. My man is waiting at the Stag, an inn in Fort William. Use my name and he’ll see to your needs. As for Miss Constance Cameron…” He turned to Gordon. “I want her back. You have the sword. I receive the girl. Those were your terms. She’s not a part of this.”

Gordon was too stunned by Colster’s offer to reply immediately. He was offering peace, a gift so generous and rare, it forced Gordon to reevaluate everything he thought he’d wanted.

His father had been a man of peace, and Gordon realized he’d taken that memory and subverted it through his pursuit of rebellion. In a blinding moment of insight, he realized how deeply his love for Constance had changed him.

But before he could speak, Thomas shouted, “We support the Lachlan. ’Tis not land we want, but justice.”

“Justice!” Brian echoed, and the others took up the call, the word louder and stronger each time it was repeated.

Justice.The word he had used over and over to spur them on, Gordon thought.

Colster was not pleased. “They’ll think on it,” he said to Gordon. “It’s a good offer. An honest one. You have your sword, Gordon, and it appears that unlesssomeone ”—he emphasized the word, letting Gordon know he meant him—“convinces them otherwise, the Highlands will be set on fire.”

“If you are so certain of war, why are you giving us the sword?”

“Because I believeyou will do the right thing,” Colster answered. “It has to be laid to rest sooner or later.

That sword is an evil thing. Use it for good, Gordon. Create a new legend with it.” He walked to Constance. “Are you ready to go, lass?” he asked.

She looked to Gordon, panic in her eyes, and Colster took a step back in surprise. “You’ve fallen in love.” He made an exasperated sound. “Lachlan, have you no sense? Haddon and my brother want to rip your throat out over your kidnapping her. If they think you have touched her—”

“Itouched him,” Constance said proudly. “I love him. And I don’t care who knows.”

Colster glanced at the Scots and the English. “Keep your voice down,” he warned, “or you will see the three of us murdered.” On either side of the field, people strained to see and hear what was happening between the three of them.

Constance’s face tightened in defiance but she didn’t argue.

The duke looked to Gordon. “And what of you? Are you in love, too?”

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“Yes,” Gordon answered, the word coming straight from his heart.

Colster swore. He pulled Gordon away so he could speak without Constance overhearing. “And now what?” he asked bitterly. “What do you have to offer her, man? Even if you rein this rebellion in, you are heading for the gallows. The girls at that school for young women came from families all over England.

They wrote home about Constance’s kidnapping. My brother has enough influence to keep this story out of the papers but it is whispered everywhere. Constance will not find it easy in London. Her sisters are beside themselves with worry over how to protect her. Meanwhile, the government has declared you an outlaw and increased the price on your head a hundredfold. You are a hunted man, Gordon.” He made an exasperated sound. “And you say you love her? How much, then? Do you love her enough to let her go?”

Gordon looked at Constance sitting on Tempest. She was so valuable to him.

She shook her head as if she had an inkling of what he was thinking. “What did the duke say?” she demanded, not caring whether her voice was overheard. “What has he told you?”

And it was then Gordon knew Colster was right.

Because she loved him, Constance would follow him to the end…and it would destroy her.

He loved her too much to let her make such a sacrifice.

On the Scots’ side of the field, Thomas had urged them to start calling for the sword. They shouted,

“MacKenna,” a demand for the symbol of not only their clan’s pride, but also their heritage. A man didn’t walk away from that, not even for love.

Gordon knew his way was clear. There was only one choice he could make.

“Take the girl,” he said, and placing his hand on the sword hilt, pulled it from the ground.

The Scots cheered.

Sixteen

Take the girl.

Constance wasn’t certain she’d heard Gordon correctly. He couldn’t be talking about her.

It wasn’t until the duke swept her down from Tempest’s back that she realized she hadn’t been mistaken.

Gordon gathered Tempest’s reins and, without so much as a sideways glance at her, mounted and rode off, holding the Sword of the MacKenna high above his head. The Scots cheered.

Constance wanted to go after them, to grab him and demand an explanation.

Instead, she rounded on the duke, pushing him away so he was forced to set her on her feet. “What did you say to him?”

Charlotte came running to her side. “Constance, are you all right?” she cried as she threw her arms
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around Constance’s shoulders.

But Constance didn’t have time to talk to her sister. She had to stop Gordon before he left her. She pushed away to see the Scots riding away, shouting their battle cry. Gordon was already gone.

He’d left her.

A cold numbness stole through her. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.

“What has he done to you?” Charlotte worried.

“Come.” It was Miranda, on her other side. Constance hadn’t even realized she’d approached.

But shewasn’t going to leave. Not yet. She dug in her heels, turning to the duke.“What did you say to him?” she demanded.

To his credit, Colster didn’t flinch. “I asked him to think of you, of what was best for you.”

Constance’s first thought was to screamNo, this couldn’t be good for me. “In what sense?” she wondered. “My heart belongs to him.” Couldn’t he see?

Lord Phillip, who had also joined them, swore colorfully before starting for his horse. “I’m riding after Lachlan, and when I get my hands on him—”

The duke grabbed him. “No. Phillip, you’ll make it worse.”

“How could it be worse? You gave him that damn sword.”

“Because he is a good man,” Colster said. He looked at the small knot of them gathered in the middle of the field. “I believe Lachlan will do what is right. Let the Scots think on my offer. They will see the wisdom of it.”

Lord Phillip shook his head. “I hope you’re correct, because you have just placed this whole family in jeopardy.”

“Phillip,” Charlotte warned, placing a loving hand on his arm, a wifely wish for him to keep the peace.

He covered her hand with his.

“I want him to be prudent,” Lord Phillip said.

“He has been,” Charlotte answered.

Lord Phillip shook his head but held his tongue.

“We need to take Constance home,” Alex said. He had joined them, to stand by Miranda. “And my wife needs to sit.”

Constance looked to her middle sister. “Yes, you must take care of yourself.”

“I was too worried about you to stay behind,” Miranda said. “Alex has been furious with me for insisting I come.”

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“You didn’t need to,” Constance answered. “I wanted to stay with the clan.” And yet, she felt the pull here, as well. She crossed her arms, realized she still wore the Lachlan tartan, and hugged it even closer.

“I love him. I love him so very much.”

“And he cares for you,” the duke said. “He left you here for your own protection.”

Constance brushed a stray strand of hair back from her face. She saw the worry in her sisters’ eyes. She felt odd, as if she didn’t belong here. Didn’t belong anywhere.

“I’ve changed,” she informed her sisters quietly. “I’ll not return to Madame Lavaliere’s.”

“No,” Charlotte agreed, shaking her head. In fact, everyone appeared to have grasped that Constance and Gordon had been lovers. Explanations had not been necessary.

Where would she go now? Constance wondered. Her dream of sailing on theNovus seemed a distant memory. And through the sadness came a bolt of pure anger. Gordon hadn’t had faith in her. Inthem.

He’d walked off. She never would have. And now, what was left for her save pride?

“I believe it’s time we left,” she said, self-conscious at how closely everyone watched her, even Alex and the outriders they had brought with them. She didn’t wait for help but started toward the coach. A footman helped her inside.

This was a plush coach, the likes of which Constance had never seen before. The exterior was painted a dark green, the Colster coat of arms on the door. The seats were a buttery soft leather trimmed in velvet.

There was a pillow and a blanket. She helped herself to them as she settled in the corner of the compartment. A terrible coldness was creeping into her bones.

Miranda and Charlotte climbed in. Charlotte said, “You might want to let Miranda use the pillow. She’s in a delicate condition—” when Miranda interrupted.

“Sleep, my dear sister,” she said to Constance. “Don’t worry about us. Nurse your heart.”

Tears burned Constance’s eyes as she closed them. Miranda could be counted on to understand.

Charlotte was too pragmatic. She always fretted over what they should do next. She did so now with her usual indefatigable energy.

“We shall have to see her married, and quickly,” Constance overheard her whisper to Miranda. “Mr.

Fryson said that most of the girls knew she had disappeared from the school. Rumors will start.

However, if there is a babe from that Scotsman, she’s more than ruined.”

Miranda hushed her. “There’s time to worry about that later. I’m just happy we have her back without bloodshed.”

Constance thought of Brian and his poor ear. She could tell Miranda what Alex had done. She was certain it wouldn’t surprise her. Alex could be ruthless…So could Gordon. Look at what he’d done to her.

In the end, before she escaped into sleep, Constance decided that of the two, Gordon was the more hardened.

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“We have the Sword of the MacKenna!” Thomas burst out triumphantly, nodding to the sword Gordon had looped through a piece of leather on his saddle. “I didn’t think you would succeed,” he said. They were halfway back to camp and Thomas couldn’t hide his pleasure.

He grinned at the other men riding with them. “Wait until this news is spread throughout the Highlands,”

he crowed. “The man with the sword could become King of Scotland. There are those who would pay the price on your head and more for that sword.”

Gordon kept his own counsel. Thomas bragged enough for both of them. Some of the men agreed with him, but a good number more were as silent as Gordon.

Instead, his thoughts were on Constance.