Maggie Mine (26 page)

“I wish to see her.” He might know that she needed to be kept safely under guard, but ne needed to see her.

“You’re not strong enough to deal with her,” Mary protested. “Even now I can see how the fever holds you within its power.”

She was right. He felt the fever of infection raging through him. It was a struggle to keep his eyes open, to focus at all. But the idea of Maggie locked in the dungeon was more than he could bear. One more day. He’d heal one more day before he had her brought to him.

“Tomorrow I will be stronger. I will speak with her on the morrow.” He nearly drifted away, but managed to look at Gerald. “Remove her from the dungeon. Put her in the tower. With a guard you trust.” Then his faint hold on reality faded.

*
*
*

Two guards took Maggie from the dungeon to the tower late in the day. They’d tied her hands behind her back, though she didn’t have the strength or the will to fight them. She was weak from lack of food, having been unable to keep down the bread and cheese Fia’d had sent to her. Her bruised cheek ached. And the cut on her arm burned. No one had yet noticed the blood staining the torn sleeve of her chemise or the rag wrapped around her arm. Nor did they talk to her except to announce where they were taking her.

Gerald met them at the foot of the stairs leading to the tower sometimes used to hold prisoners, of which she was one. Fia stood near him, refusing to acknowledge his presence but determined to be there. The second Maggie grew closer, Fia’s eyes widened in horror. She spun toward Gerald. “Ye beat her! Ye loathseome great gowk!”

He glanced from Fia to Maggie and then in fury at the guards. “Did you beat her to get her to come with you?”

Both men shook their heads and then looked at her as well.  The bigger man who’d many times spoken kindly to Maggie said, “We would never harm our lady.” Then he grew silent at the situation.

Maggie didn’t care about anything other than getting to the tower room. It would at least have a cot, and she was so very tired. She only wanted to lie down. She’d asked to see Nicholas again, and, again, been refused. But she’d been at least told he’d awakened briefly and would see her on the morrow. Her heart had broken that he hadn’t wanted to see her now.

“I need to lie down,” she said quietly, forcing her weak body to remain standing.

Fia stepped to her side. “Ye puir lass. What they’ve put ye through, because they have more faith in the likes of that lying wench than in their own lady.” She glared at the guards. “When yer brother finds out ye’ve been mistreated like this, he will bring hell upon this castle and all of its people.”

Maggie gave her a weak smile. She remembered how furious her favorite brother could be at times, how brutal he could be at defending those he loved. Then sadness filled her. “But Brodie doesna ken me right now.”

That took the fire out of Fia, though the men had the good sense to look concerned. Brodie had a reputation as a fierce warrior and it was well known through all of Scotland and England as well. He wasn’t known for showing mercy when wronged.

“He would understand,” Gerald started, but quickly closed his mouth. It was clear he worried about that.

Fia turned on him, stepped right up to his chest. “Brodie would never believe such a woman as Lady Stanhope. He isna an idiot.”

She blew out a breath but continued her defense of Maggie. “The Great Scottish Devil will come. I ken it.”

The Great Scottish Devil
. Maggie saw the men flinch at the hard-earned name her brother had received. You didn’t want to be on his bad side.

“Aye, he will come,” Maggie confirmed, praying somehow he would.

“And he will prove my lady’s innocence. Then he will take my lady and I back to Urquhart with him. He will never stand for Lord Middleham ever doubting his sister. Your lord’s doubt made clear by his not wanting her brought to him until the morrow. By his ordering her locked in the tower,” Fia said.

Maggie stiffened at the reminder of why she was being moved to the tower. It was like a knife to her heart. “Ye can tell Lord Middleham I dinna wish to see him. Ever again.”

“You will see him if he wishes it,” Gerald countered gruffly. “You must at least tell him your side of things. Try and prove your innocence.”

She held her head high and started up the stairs, although it was awkward with her hands tied behind her back. “Ye will have to carry me to him then. ‘Tis clear by his no’ ordering me release that he doesna believe me innocent.” And that realization cut her to the core.

*
*
*

It had been a rough night. Nicholas had tossed and turned lost in a fever, lost in nightmares. Finally only a few hours ago he’d broken the fever and managed to rest a bit. Dreams of Maggie being tortured in the dungeon forced him awake. He sat up and cried out, “No!”

Pain tore through his upper back. He ground his teeth together to get beyond it. His breaths came in short pants.

The older cook came to him immediately, putting the back of one hand to his forehead. “The fever is gone,
M
y
L
ord, but you need to lie still. Your wound is slow in healing.”

Richard and Gerald strode over from where they’d been talking quietly by the narrow window. Both men studied him gravely, neither speaking.

“I dreamt that Maggie was in the dungeon,” Nicholas admitted and glanced around the chamber. “Where is she?”

The two men shared an uneasy look. Gerald finally spoke. “You don’t remember what was said yesterday?”

Nicholas shook his head, which was a mistake. His forehead throbbed and he reached up to gingerly touch a swelling there. Then his mind flashed upon a fuzzy conversation from the day before. “God’s teeth! She
was
in the dungeon.” Then he recalled being told that she’d attacked him, which he’d tried to deny. They’d insisted it was the truth, and Lady Stanhope had vowed she’d seen the attack. “I told you to put Maggie in the tower, didn’t I?”

Both men nodded. Nicholas felt sick. She would never forgive him for being imprisoned. She doubted she’d accept that he’d ordered her put in the tower for her own safety. But he’d been in no condition to protect her himself from any who might try to insist she be punished for having tried to kill him. An angry mob might not even let her be taken to King Edward for trial. They might hang her here. And she was innocent. He knew it in his gut, but he also knew that wouldn’t be enough. Her innocence must be proven. Lady Stanhope’s word held weight. Her act of concern had been fairly convincing. He should have sent her away to Edward and let him deal with finding her a husband himself.

“Bring her to me.” He closed his eyes, knowing the chasm between he and Maggie had grown even wider.

“She doesn’t want to see you,” Gerald said quietly.

He should have guessed that, but as nearly impossible as the situation was, he needed to see her. Make sure she was okay. “Bring her to me.”

By the time Richard and Gerald returned with Maggie, Nicholas had been washed off with a rag by the cook. He’d drank some mead but dared not try to keep down even a bite of bread she’d offered. As they walked into the chamber, she smiled reassuringly at Maggie and left, pulling the door closed behind her.

His two firsts stood uncertainly beside her. Nicholas first noticed that her hands were tied in front of her. “Remove the binding,” he ordered, furious at such an atrocity.

He studied her as Richard did his bidding. She didn’t seem to care that she’d been bound or even set free. Her clothes were stained, torn in places. Her silken hair hung limply and in disarray.  A darkened bruise showed through the dirt on her face. And a rag bandage was wrapped around her lower right arm. But worst of all was the sadness in her eyes, the dejection in her slender shoulders that tore at him.

“I will personally kill the man who beat you,” he gritted out, fisting his hands in the sheets.

She lifted her chin and a flash of the temper she’d once shown met his gaze. “Even if I tried to kill ye? Which I did no’.”

He focused on Gerald, rage at her mistreatment swirling through him. “Bring me the man who did this to Lady Middleham. I will have him drawn and quartered.”

Maggie shook her head. “No one harmed me. I fell, is all.”

Nicholas glared murderously at his two firsts, then motioned to the rag on her arm. “Why hasn’t her arm been looked at? That isn’t a proper bandage.”

Both men looked more closely and then appeared shocked. “How could you have tied her hands and not seen her injured arm?” Nicholas growled.

“One of the guards bound her hands. We just escorted her to you,” Richard said and flashed an apologetic glance at her. “I hadn’t seen it. Truly,
M
y
L
ady. I will fetch the cook to tend to it.”

He turned to pull open the door when someone else pushed it from the other side. Another guard stopped in the doorway, looked worriedly from the knights to Maggie, and then to Nicholas. “Urquhart riders approach, Lord Middleham. At least fifty of them, maybe more. Heavily armed.”

Nicholas stiffened as he sat up.

“The Scottish Devil leads them. Another guard who has seen him before recognized him and his big warhorse.”

God’s teeth! Could his life get any more complicated?
Nicholas swung his legs to the side of the bed, fully intent on getting up and dressed. The pain in his back was excruciating. He sucked in a breath that all in the room heard.

Maggie automatically started toward him, but was restrained by Richard and Gerald. She huffed in annoyance. “I was only going to try and make the idiot mon lie back down.”

“I’m sorry,
M
y
L
ady, but
—
” Richard said and looked regretful but determined.

“Release her,” Nicholas gritted out. The linen had slipped so that it barely covered one leg and his cock. He didn’t care, nor would his men. Maggie, though, had widened her eyes in obvious notice of his naked state. A fact that, if the situation weren’t so impossible, he could better appreciate. Instead he said grimly, “I will not face Brodie of Urquhart lying in bed, naked. I will dress and go down
—”

“Dinna I say the mon is an idiot!” Maggie grumbled, cutting him off. “One of ye fetch him a tunic, but no more.” She narrowed her eyes at Nicholas, hands on her hips. “Ye sit back in that bed and wait fer Brodie to come to ye. I mean it, husband. Ye are no’ to set foot out of that bed!”

He scowled at her, though he felt a moment of hope that just maybe she would one day forgive him for what she was being put through now. He held the hope close to his heart.

Even as he thought that, he noted how both of his previously severe-looking knights blinked in surprise. Then Richard quietly chuckled and strode to one of the trunks. Nicholas remained sitting on the side of the bed as his head pounded with such pain he had to fight not to pass out. Damn, he hated feeling so weak. He’d been out of bed only a few times the last couple of days, to use the chamber pot. He
ha
d hoped to be much stronger today. But maybe she was right. Maybe he should have Brodie brought up to him. He was afraid if he tried to go downstairs now that he
woul
d fall flat on his face or tumble down the stairs.

Gerald shifted uncomfortably. “I should go meet the Scots.” But it was clear he was reluctant to leave Maggie there with him.

Richard walked back with a dark blue tunic and Maggie stepped forward to take it, and then sighed at Gerald’s low growl. She stood rigidly next to him. “Aye, I ken, I might be tempted to suffocate the mon in his own clothing,” she stated in clear bitterness.

Nicholas groaned. He hated this whole awkward situation. He knew in his gut and in his heart that she was innocent, but, until it was proven, everyone in the keep would be nervous having her around him.

He waved Richard away and carefully shifted back against the headboard. “Forget it. He’ll just have to see my bare chest. I haven’t the strength to raise my arms to don the tunic.” And he thought such movement might break the healing wound open again.

His gaze met Maggie’s and he prayed she saw the deep regret in his eyes. “I must meet with your brother, alone.”

Her shoulders slumped but she nodded. “’Tis back to the tower with me, then. At least ‘tis no’ the dungeon again.” She gave a small shudder. “I believe I’d take me own life
befo
re going there again.”

Her quiet admission struck him hard. His stomach tightened. “If I’d had a say in the matter, I would never have allowed you to be sent there, Maggie. But…
.
” He stopped, all knowing he hadn’t had a say in it. He
ha
d been unconscious and nearly died.

A second of acknowledgement sparked in her eyes, and then she stiffened. “But those who
ha
ve grown to ken me were quick to believe the worst of me. None would listen to me, no’ when Lady Stanhope told her lies. Nay, was easier to believe her than me.”