Legacy of the Mist Clans Box Set (118 page)

Now it was her turn to fight for the man she loved, and she’d be damned to hell if she abandoned him now.

“I made ye a promise,” she muttered. “Both the day we arrived in Edinburgh, and I made a second stronger vow earlier this night. I canna run. I willna run!”

She sucked in her breath and, holding Adam close, she sprinted back across the alley and into the yard, heading for the barn behind the house. In an instant, she gained her own horse. With Adam in the sling, held securely against her, she was able to use both hands and quickly tacked up the animal. She was suddenly glad she had put in so many hours riding. She no longer needed Connell’s help. She quickly mounted and, clutching Adam to her breast, turned the horse trotted him out of the barn.

Outside, the merchants—their friends—saw the burning home and ran to help but hesitated as they saw the captain chaining Connell’s wrists. His men faced them and drew their swords. Summoned from their beds, their friends were not prepared for a fight and backed away.

Mairi held her horse at bay, making sure to stay back and out of sight as she watched them. Connell wanted her to run, but there was a time and place—and Mairi’s time was here and now.

He had given his oath to protect her and echoed the same when he married her. She could not wield a blade; she had no fighting skills. The sounds of Connell’s chains rattled in her ears as they dragged him down the dark road. She scowled. They were headed away from Edinburgh Castle. They would not take him to the English lord there?

“The king will decide his fate.”

Connell had told her about seeing Gordy and all they had talked about. King Edward was rumored to be headed north without his entourage. She looked down at Adam. Now, she knew why. She thumped her heels into the horse’s sides and followed at a trot.

“Mairi?” Dugal called after her. “Nay!”

“He is my husband,” she gasped. “I canna abandon him.” She choked on a sob but lifted her chin. “I love him.” She thumped her heels again, and her horse broke into a gallop.

“Mairi!” Ian cried. Tears fogged her vision even more. But suddenly her brain started functioning again. Wait. What in the hell was she doing? She pulled the horse to a stop and looked down at Adam in her arms. How could she risk his life like this? She looked back at the smith and the others standing in the road.

The king will decide his fate.

Her fear was a barb against her heart, but she knew exactly what she had to do. Biting back her tears, she turned her horse around.

HHH

Connell glanced over his shoulder. His head spun and throbbed from the crack on his skull as he struggled to maintain his feet. If he fell, they would only drag him along. But at least he could still walk. He had heard the uproar behind him. He knew his friends would answer the call. They would see to Mairi and Adam.

She had one chance, and he had done all he could to give it to her.

But realizing the journey she had to make on her own to return to Ronan and Glen Gyle . . . dear God in heaven, he would not be there to see her through. His heart nearly rent in twain. He had only just found his happiness, a chance for a new future, but it had again been stolen from him. He knew he would never see her again.

Connell had not expected to survive this far. His only goal had been to take as many as he could with him before he died in the flames of his burning home. But now he was prisoner. He had finally recognized the heraldry of the English captain, and his hands itched to kill him. He was furious with himself for not recognizing him before.

The captain had said they were taking him to the king. He remembered Gordy’s words and snorted to himself. He was an idiot. He should have taken Mairi out of Edinburgh then and there. Why in the hell else would Edward be coming north in the dead of winter? He was looking for his son, for them. The Bruce might have been hesitating about sending more men to die on Connell’s blade, but he still wished to take Adam and use him as leverage against Edward. Of course, Edward would seek to prevent that.

It seemed he would soon meet Adam’s father face to face. Connell had no idea what to expect from Longshanks’s son, but more than likely he would hang for his role in keeping Adam from his father. Connell shook his head. Keeping Adam alive, with a roof over his head and food in his belly. Aye, that was a hanging offense indeed.

They continued through the sleeping city, leaving the safety of its walls through the little-used south gate. The guards there did not question them, simply unbarring a smaller gate cut into the larger one at the captain’s hail. But as they passed, he noted one of the guards looked at him curiously. A Scotsman. Connell had repaired the man’s armor only a few days ago, agreeing to do so on credit because the Scottish guardsmen were woefully underpaid. Well, that was one debt the man no longer had to worry over.

Connell turned his gaze to the dark road as they moved away from the city. He thought he heard a noise behind him and again looked over his shoulder. But there was nothing there. His own foolish imagination. God was Mairi’s protector now. A part of him wanted to rage at God for the great jest being played on him. But he knew he couldn’t. His respect for the Almighty had been firmly instilled at an early age. Instead, his heart whispered a fervent prayer over and over. That was all he could do—put his faith in the Almighty.
Ye gave me a second gift, and I treasured it. I thank ye for that. Now, I ask ye tae watch over her and my bairn, for only ye can do so. I love her. I pray ye dinna abandon her now.

They traveled south for about an hour. Connell had fallen twice but fortunately had been able to regain his feet. He was banged up and his head still ached, but all in all, he could have been worse—much worse.

They turned a corner along the thickly wooded road and entered a clearing that Connell would have never seen had they not turned into it. Half a dozen pavilions lined the clearing, but only a few flickering torches were staked at the perimeter. A small campfire burned in the center, but there was still not enough light. Voices were kept low, and Connell spotted the guards—twice as many as there needed to be—but they wore heavy padding to muffle the sound of their armor. He arched an eyebrow. As he had suspected, King Edward, accompanied only by his personal retainers, was in Scotland.

The captain and his men stopped in the center of the clearing and dismounted. They grabbed the length of Connell’s chains and hauled him toward the largest pavilion. Connell glanced around. He was strong, and this force was much smaller than the king should have been traveling with, but there were still too many for one man. There was no way he could manage an escape. He would keep his eyes open, but he cringed. Edward would want to know where his son was. Connell knew he could not betray Mairi to them; the risk to her life was too great. All too well he knew what awaited him: torture and death at the hangman’s noose.

He suddenly wished he had died in his home.

Connell swallowed hard, summoned his courage, and straightened his shoulders as they hauled him into the giant pavilion and shoved him to his knees before the king.

The wealth inside the pavilion surprised Connell. Expensive rugs adorned the floor, and guardsmen, their weapons and armor shining and sharp, lined the walls. The king sat on a massive wooden chair, opulently carved. He wore an ermine robe about his shoulders, his tunic and hosen made of the finest linen and silk. A golden crown adorned his brow. He was young and tall, but not as tall as his father.

Connell remembered the rumors that abounded about the man, that Longshanks had begged his nobles to continue the war against Scotland on his deathbed, a desire that his son ignored. But even in death, Longshanks still cast a long shadow, and his son still lived in it. Dark eyes regarded Connell coolly and with disinterest.

“Who is this, Captain?”

“The blacksmith who hid your son away from you, my liege.”

That got the king’s attention. “A blacksmith?” he asked in shock. “My son is being raised by a blacksmith?”

“He slew six of my men, sir.”

Edward arched an eyebrow. “A blacksmith who can fight at least.”

“I protected yer son,” Connell growled.

The captain turned to strike him. “Be silent!”

“Hold!” the king barked.

The captain froze and slowly lowered his hand.

“You do not have my son with you. Where is he?”

“The wench escaped with him. The cur refuses to speak. We brought him to you.”

“I see.” The king leaned forward in his chair, studying Connell intently. “I had heard rumor that my son had fallen into the hands of a Scotsman. Imagine my worry upon learning this. I was certain the Bruce would have him in a fortnight. Then imagine my surprise when I learned this was not so.”

“Yer own father sought tae slay him.”

“Aye,” Edward said, nodding. “’Tis also why I sent men. But this Scotsman and the wet nurse always managed to stay one step ahead. That was ye?”

“Aye.” Connell sucked in another deep breath and slowly lifted his gaze. “He is a wee bairn, my liege, he doesna deserve tae be used in such a fashion. I sought only tae protect him. I put a roof over his head and food in his belly, and . . . I loved him as my own.”

“If you seek to protect him, then tell me where he is.”

Connell abruptly lowered his gaze. “I canna. My wife’s life be forfeit if I tell ye.”

“Wife?” He gaped at Connell. “The wet nurse is your wife?”

Connell squeezed his eyes closed and said nothing more.

“Smith, you must tell me. I promise you, your wife will not be harmed.”

Connell shook his head. “She will defend him tae her last breath, my liege.”

The king lunged to his feet. “This is not a negotiation. You will tell me where to find him.”

Connell kept his jaw clamped shut.

“You will tell me, or I will have the truth beaten from you. I will find him despite your silence, and your wife will suffer for your choice.”

Connell flinched, but he still refused to speak.

“Damnation!” the king roared, and Connell noted he did have a bit of his father’s temper. “Take him! We’ll see if the whip will loosen his tongue as it loosens the flesh from his back.”

The captain and two other guards jerked on Connell’s chains, hauling him to his feet.

“Nay!” a woman’s voice cried, and Connell’s heart turned to ice.

Nay, it couldn’t be. Please, Holy Father, nay!

But to his horror, Mairi strode into the pavilion with Adam in her arms. Two of the king’s guardsmen flanked her. His heart shriveled into ash, and the last of his hope fled. Dear God in heaven, now they had absolutely no leverage. She brought to him exactly what the king wanted.

“Mairi, what have ye done?”

Sweet Jesu, they were both dead.

“Some may judge her, but I will no’. She faced a devil’s choice.”

~
Connell MacGrigor

S
eeing Connell bloody, bruised, and standing in chains nearly broke Mairi’s heart. But the sorrow and fear she saw in his sapphire eyes was the worst. She knew why, but he didn’t understand. He didn’t realize Mairi had learned much from him.

“Well, now,” the king said, looking at her in amusement. “The best laid plans defeated by a woman.” He returned to his throne. “Will someone please tell me why this wench still holds my son? Why is she not in chains next to her husband?”

The guardsman next to her fidgeted nervously. “Forgive me, my liege, we are surrounded.”

The king’s amusement vanished in a heartbeat. “What?”

Mairi lifted her chin. “Ye didna think I was so foolish as tae come alone, did ye?”

“Mairi?” Connell whispered.

She met his anguished gaze. “Ian and all of the merchants, Angus and Dugal . . . all of them, Connell . . . every single one we called friend . . . they are all with me.”

“We are outnumbered three to one, my liege,” the guardsman said. “They hold the high ground. The lady came to us under a parley banner. If she does not return with her husband, they will attack.”

“Merchants? My professional guards are cowed by merchants?”

“Scotsmen,” Mairi snapped.

The king stared at her, his jaw slack. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Connell duck his head to hide the sudden smile that tugged at his lips.

“Yer professional guards are well trained, and they can count. They ken the lay of the land,” Mairi said. “But we didna come here tae fight. I came here tae negotiate for the life of my husband.” Sudden tears filled her eyes. She had only one thing that the king wanted more than her husband, and she held him in her arms.

Connell stared at her, his eyes widening as he realized what she meant to do. “Nay,” he whispered. “Mairi, nay.”

Her stomach twisted into painful knots, and her arms tightened around Adam so much that he grunted. He had grown so accustomed to being plucked from sleep for a mad dash on the trail that he was nonplussed over the activity tonight. He looked around curiously, chewing on his fist.

But Mairi’s resolve wavered. She had been so certain when she told Ian of her idea. She had known exactly what she had to do and had envisioned her plan with perfect clarity.

But standing before the king with Adam in her arms and Connell in chains, her vision clouded with the doubt that assailed her. How could she do this? How could she choose between her husband and her son? She loved them both so very much. Her tears leaked in a steady stream down her face, and she feared she might wretch at the nausea that rose. She desperately fought to get ahold of her emotions. She couldn’t show such weakness before the king. He already discounted her because she was a woman.

The king focused his attention entirely on Adam. He slowly rose from his throne, and his gaze flicked to the guardsman standing beside her. “Out,” he said, his voice low and hoarse. “All of you, get out! Except you, Captain. Remain with your
prisoner
.”

As the guardsmen and the few people who served the king left the pavilion, Mairi’s gaze returned to Connell, and her tears flowed even faster. She so clearly saw the love in his eyes, which were liquid with unshed tears. He was willing to die for them; he didn’t want her to give up Adam. But how could she possibly bear to face tomorrow without him? She couldn’t run from this. She
wouldn’t
run from this.

Her gaze also took in the captain next to him, the only one allowed to remain. He loomed next to Connell, his hand on his dagger, ready to slay her husband the moment the king uttered the order. She could not allow that to happen.

Only the four of them remained along with Adam. The king stepped forward again, but he said nothing. The silence grew heavy. All she could hear was the pop an crackle of the flames in the brazier that provided light and warmth in the huge opulent tent.

King Edward’s gaze remained locked on Adam. Emotion flitted across his features, and he swallowed hard. In that moment, Mairi knew she had him. She knew what she had to do. But did she have the courage to do it? Who did she love more? Adam or Connell?

“He is healthy and strong,” the king said, his voice strained. “I heard rumor his name was Adam.” He looked then at Mairi.

Mairi forced down her anguish, trying to think clearly. Was he a father truly worried over his son, or was his care for the bairn caused by a motivation much more shallow?

“Aye,” she said softly. “Before she died, his mum named him Adam FitzRoy.”

Again the king swallowed hard. “I never realized my folly would end her life. I should have. I should have known what my father would do.” He turned away from her and strode back to the throne but didn’t sit in it. Instead, he stared at it a long moment, as if it were the epitome of everything evil and dark.

“She was strong and beautiful, furiously independent, and a peasant. From my earliest memories, I have always been told what my role was to be in this life. I knew I was prince of a nation and heir to the throne, but that knowledge made me curious about those I was to rule. Why was I different from them? Why was the work they performed considered beneath me? So I learned how to dig ditches and thatch roofs.” He looked at Connell. “I even learned a little about smithing. It was hard work, but . . . there was something in the nature of physical labor . . . there is satisfaction knowing a job has been well done. At first I did this out of curiosity, but later because I found the labor rewarding, then even later I did it to discomfit my father and the nobles of rank. But it was during one of these labors that Adam’s mother caught my eye. I knew better, but only one need ruled me. In my folly, I didn’t think of the consequences if I got a child on the lass.”

“It is because of Mairi yer son is alive,” Connell growled.

“Be silent!” the captain snapped.

“Captain, cease!” the king growled. “How am I to learn the truth about my son if they are not allowed to speak?”

Mairi’s brow furrowed. Was it possible? Did he truly care? Would he love his son and raise him well despite his bastard lineage?

“Is this true?” the king asked Mairi.

An old pain rose powerfully within her. But she looked to Connell, remembering what she had told him. His intense gaze was unreadable, but she recognized his love and compassion. He didn’t want her to do this, but he knew why she was, and he understood what it was doing to her.

“Aye,” she told the king. “I had just lost my bairn the day before. The midwife brought him tae me because I was the only one who could suckle him.”

The king approached her. “So you truly care for him?” he asked as if he couldn’t believe his own words.

“I love him as my own,” her voice broke, and she fought to steady it. “Why else would I put my life on the line for him?” She looked at her husband, and her gaze never left his. “Connell too. His blade stopped every threat brought against us when we were on the trail. In Edinburgh, he made sure we wanted for nothing. All I wanted was tae raise Adam in a good, loving home, tae be at peace and let him grow up healthy and strong. Connell gave that tae me. Because of him, we wanted for nothing and . . . and I was so verra happy.”

Connell stared at her. She saw his throat muscles work and his jaw grow tighter.

Mairi finally allowed herself to look at Adam. He cooed and burbled, looking at the king curiously, but otherwise the lad didn’t have a care in the world. Then he spotted Connell and squealed happily, reaching for him, kicking and grunting. “Da-da-da-da-da . . .”

Connell squeezed his eyes closed and bowed his head. The king looked at Connell and back to Adam in surprise. His face paled a little. “Release him,” the king whispered.

“My liege?” the captain asked in shock.

“Release him!”

Connell’s chains fell to the floor with a loud clank. He stepped forward and swept Mairi and Adam into his arms, holding them both tightly. Adam rested his head against Connell’s chest, sighing in contentment.

“I never expected this. I expected him to be a possession, a way to power. I never expected anyone to love him as their own.”

Mairi only wanted to bury her face against Connell’s chest and sob her heartbreak, but she knew she couldn’t. She kept her gaze locked on the king.

“Please,” the king said softly. “May I hold him?”

Her jaw went slack. He was asking her permission? She looked at Connell in disbelief.

He too was looking at the king in shock, but then his gaze returned her, and he studied her a long moment. He gave her a slight nod.

Summoning her courage, she carefully handed Adam to the king.

He held him comfortably enough. Adam stared up at him, wide-eyed, then a shiny jewel on the garment he wore caught Adam’s fascination. His stubby little fingers reached for it, and he began to make nonsensical noises again, sounds which flowed in the cadence of speech.

Mairi stared in amazement as she watched the king of a nation transform into a father as he spoke softly to the bairn and smiled at him. Adam continued his “conversation,” and the king listened intently as if hanging on every nonsensical word.

“Mairi,” Connell whispered, “ye dinna have tae do this.”

But as she watched Adam, she recognized where he had inherited the shape of his eyes, the dimples that appeared when he smiled.

In that instant, her decision became so very clear. It would rend her heart asunder, but for Connell, she would move heaven and earth. “Please, take Adam. All I ask is that ye be good tae him and ye let my husband go free. Please.”

The king looked at her, his brow furrowing.

“Nay,” Connell said between clenched teeth. “How can ye do this? Ye love Adam.”

Mairi, tears pouring down her face, returned his gaze. “Aye, I love him,” she whispered. “But he’s no’ mine, Connell. He ne’er was. Ye are. Earlier this night, we spoke the vows before God forever joining us together. Do ye no’ see? I told ye all I wanted for Christmas was ye, and God gave me a husband. I love ye with all my heart.”

Connell stared at her, his blue eyes stormy and turbulent, but he also gazed at her in wonder. Then something changed in him, she wasn’t sure what it was, but a tear escaped and rolled down his cheek. He pulled her tightly to him, and she felt him shaking as hard as she was. “And I love ye,” he murmured.

The king pointedly cleared his throat.

Connell lifted his head and glared at the man. “Ye have no idea what this be costing her.”

“Nay, I do not,” the king replied. “I must admit you have presented a quandary. There are those among my nobles who would insist that I take my son and have you both hanged no matter how many of your friends wait outside.”

Mairi felt Connell’s entire body coil. With the king dismissing everyone else, she knew if Connell decided to fight, he could easily slay the captain and the king. But no matter how many of their friends awaited outside, it would be suicide. The guards would be in the pavilion in an instant, and they would slay him. She placed her hand on his arm, but she too glared at the king.

“I ken ye will no’ do such a thing,” she said firmly.

Connell looked at her in surprise, right along with the king.

“Pray tell, how do you know this?” the king asked.

Mairi lifted her chin defiantly. “Because ye are no’ as cruel as yer father,” she said simply.

The king’s face lost even more color. He abruptly turned on his heel and strode back to his throne, taking Adam with him. He sat and reached for something she could not see.

Connell made a growling noise low in his throat and stepped in front of her. She peeked around his shoulder.

But the king only produced a large pouch. He tossed it straight at Connell, who neatly plucked it out of the air.

“Very well,” the king said. “I accept your terms. My son in exchange for your husband.”

Connell hefted the pouch in his hand. It was large, filling his palm, and appeared heavy.

“Your payment for caring for my son,” the king said. “Captain, see that they are escorted safely away. Give them mounts for their journey.”

Mairi couldn’t believe her ears. He was agreeing to the trade? He was allowing them to go free?

The captain bowed to his king and faced them. “This way,” he said and gestured to the pavilion opening.

Mairi’s heart suddenly raced, and her stomach tightened painfully. This was all happening too fast! “Wait!” she cried.

“Mairi,” Connell said, tugging on her arm. “Let’s go.”

“Nay! Wait!” Her gaze locked on Adam. God, nay! She was going to be sick.

“Mairi, we need tae go now.” Connell pulled harder on her arm.

“But I didna say good-bye. Please! Just let me tell him good-bye!”

But it appeared she had reached the limit of the king’s patience as he made no move to stop the captain or tell her she could approach.

“We need tae leave before he changes his mind, or we might still end up in chains,” Connell growled into her ear. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gently but firmly guided her away.

Tears flooded down her cheeks again, her heart breaking, and she lunged for Adam, forcing Connell to grab her around the waist. He continued toward the tent opening.

“Nay! Just let me say good-bye, please!”

But the king ignored her plea.

Adam looked at her in confusion. The moment he realized she was leaving him, he stretched out his arms and wailed the likes of which she had never heard before. “Mum-mum-mum!” Although she knew she had made the right decision, her heart still shattered into tiny pieces. She knew in that very moment that she would never see him again. The old grief she had known when she had lost her husband and her bairn rose so powerfully she feared she would lose herself to it.

But Adam wasn’t her bairn. She looked up at Connell. For a brief instant, a flash of clarity cut through the cloud of her overwhelming sorrow. She hadn’t lost her husband, a man she loved far more than words could express. In truth, she had gained more than she was giving up, and she had to hold on to that. She could depend on Connell’s strength when hers failed.