The Highlander's Bride (31 page)

Before Conor had the chance to retort with the laundry list of items that he was annoyed with her about, Brion stood up to her defense. Conor remembered him as the warrior who rode as part of the guard for MacInnes. He was thinking that, if she had to pick a MacInnes escort, she had picked the right one, when the MacInnes soldier opened his mouth.

“I am glad you have arrived, Laird MacInnes,” he said authoritatively to his own chieftain. “It seems that we were correct in our original assertions. Lady Laurel is being mistreated here.”

“What?!” shouted all three—Conor, Laurel and MacInnes—so loudly that the doors rattled on the cottages nearby. The noise woke baby Gideon. All three ignored the child’s howling and Aileen’s glower.

Laurel was the first to regain her voice. “Brion. Please explain yourself. You make no sense.” Her words were brusque and to the point.

“Aye, I do,” he replied steadily, holding her gaze, refusing to capitulate under the evil glares he was receiving from the McTiernay highlanders. It was as if he were unaware how close to death he was. But Laurel knew, and she quickly stepped in for the second time that day to avert blood being spilled.

“Brion. What on earth gave you the idea that I was mistreated?” she asked in hushed tones.

The soldier gave her a quizzical look. “You did, milady, while speaking with your woman friend,” he answered, nodding towards Aileen. Laurel instinctively pushed back Finn’s arm to remind him not to do anything rash. Finn was very sensitive about his family, as all highlanders were. Brion was walking a paper-thin line right now and appeared disinclined to retreat. If a fight did break out, it would be to the death and then both clans would be at war.

“Brion,” she said, slightly shaking his arm to get his full attention, “tell me exactly what led you to this conclusion.”

“You said that you were lied to and deceived. Laird McTiernay intentionally led you to believe that your grandfather was in danger and did not tell you that he knew we would come upon receipt of his message. Why would you want to stay here under such conditions? Come home with us where you will be respected and loved, not lied to and deceived.”

The entire time he was speaking, he looked unswervingly at Laurel, captured by her sea blue eyes, which were growing larger by the moment. Then he saw their crystal clear depths turn murky, like the change in the sky just before it opened up and drenched those below.

Conor saw the change, too. Her back went rigid, her chin jutted out, and her eyes blazed with fury. Suddenly, Conor felt his world become a little brighter. Finn was right. While it was not a pleasurable experience being the focal point of Laurel’s anger, it was amusing to watch it happen to someone else.

Laurel’s voice became dangerously sweet as her stormy eyes engulfed the soldier. “Brion, let me make a suggestion for your future. Take it to heart, or I believe that you will live a very short life, especially if you ever marry a woman of any gumption.”

Brion was stunned by his lady’s reaction to his words. He thought she would be comforted by his defense, not offended. Before he could right his wrong, however, Laurel continued, just beginning her verbal flaying of his skin.

“If you are going to eavesdrop on a person’s conversation, make it an accident. If then you ever
accidentally
eavesdrop, don’t ever let the person know you overheard them talking. And, finally, if you are going to be so dense as to not only eavesdrop
and
announce it, at least repeat the conversation correctly and in full.”

Brion felt like disappearing into a deep hole in the earth as Laurel went on with her tirade.

“While I felt
misled
, it was a temporary feeling that was replaced with relief when I realized that my husband
had only my best interests in his decisions
, which I may add, he always does.” And seeing the grin erupt on Conor’s face, she added, “
Although
we seem to disagree on exactly how he likes to protect my interests.”

Brion choked out, “My apologies, milady.”

Suddenly Brion’s world changed again as she favored him with a blindingly bright smile. “Forgiven and forgotten.” Turning to the two clan leaders, she eyed them both with a warning before asking, “Right?”

“Aye, lass, you have the right of it,” her grandfather chuckled as he gave her a big bear hug that looked much stronger than it was.

He so enjoyed the spirit his granddaughter possessed. Even as a little girl, she could outtalk and outwit most of his men. Her clever schemes to avoid punishment or constraint had caused many of them to plea to their laird for help. She could exasperate, infuriate, and then captivate a man within minutes. He had missed her greatly when her father had kept them apart. Never again would he be away from her for long.

Conor picked up his wife for the second time that day and proceeded to carry her back to their chambers. But this time she was awake and not going quietly or compliantly. He assumed she would submit eventually, realizing that he was not going to put her down. But pride would never let either one of them admit defeat, especially in front of others.

In their chambers, Conor put Laurel down and then gave her a long, deep kiss, completely drugging her senses. It was supposed to keep her from renewing her quarrel with him. Instead, the kiss took away his ability to think about anything except the woman he held in his arms. She was so soft and her scent affected his ability to think. The sight of her intoxicated him even after all this time. He believed it always would.

The next few days were full of revelry and mock competitions between the two clans. Training sessions—or so her grandfather and Conor liked to refer to them—were held in the tilting yard outside the castle walls with more difficult tasks and objectives being set each day. The men thought the idea splendid; Laurel and Brighid thought the idea ludicrous. Brighid wondered if she was going to make it to the altar despite her lady’s reassurances that the laird would not allow any jeopardy to fall on Brighid’s husband-to-be.

Laurel spent most of her time either in the great hall or in her chambers sleeping. She felt large, uncomfortable, and exceedingly irritable most of the time. She did not like her grandfather seeing her this way and tried every day to send him home, promising to visit once the baby was born, and she had recovered. Every time, he would just calmly reply that he was going to stay until his great-grandson entered this world.

What aggravated her the most, though, was Conor’s and her grandfather’s indifference to her anger or mood swings. She knew she was often being demanding or impolite, but their casual reaction when she did so only added fuel to her frustration. She just wished that someone somewhere would do
something
either to force this baby to arrive, or redirect her anger. Unfortunately, her wish was granted in the worst way possible.

Keith Douglass rode next to his father and a dozen of their guard right up to the McTiernay castle gates. They had been surrounded by McTiernay men since their entrance onto Conor’s lands. Warning of Laird Douglass’s approach preceded them by only a couple of days. The message that had arrived stated only that Laird Douglass had important news for the McTiernay chieftain and that he would arrive along with minimal guards to deliver it personally.

It was only as they approached the castle gates that Conor learned that Keith Douglass had come as well. Upon word of Laird Douglass’s imminent arrival, Conor had told Laird MacInnes what he had learned of Laurel’s experience at Douglass’s hands. As Conor feared, MacInnes’s explosion had brought half of his men running with their swords drawn. Conor had delayed relating the story knowing that MacInnes would fight him for the right to confront his enemy. After a lengthy discussion, both Conor and MacInnes decided to let the Douglasses enter the highlands and deliver their news. Only after that would they decide who executed the fate of the dishonest, treacherous clan leader and son.

Now Conor stood on the castle wall, refusing to go down to meet the vermin that approached. MacInnes watched from the shadows. They both agreed it might be better for Douglass to not know of MacInnes’s presence until they heard his message.

The sight of an alive Keith Douglass enraged both lairds. Conor knew that Laurel thought the Douglass heir was dead. His presence meant danger. Killing him outright without clear cause would spark a war. Robert the Bruce had set down the law about such internal feuding, stating that wars were to be fought with the King of England, not each other. He had received Conor’s, MacInnes’s, and even Douglass’s pledges on the matter.

But, knowing what Laurel did to the man, and the way Keith had retaliated against others who had slighted him even a little, Conor knew the man had come for revenge. It was just unclear what form his revenge would take.

“Line the battlements and secure the gates!” Conor yelled as additional McTiernay soldiers surrounded the fourteen Douglasses. “Not one Douglass is to enter these walls,” he said coldly while looking at the group of evil men who stood outside his fortress, “or eat the food of our land.”

“We brought our own, McTiernay,” snarled the older Douglass.

“State your message and then get off my lands,” McTiernay retorted.

Keith rode forward and ignored his father, who obviously wanted him to remain silent.

“I came for my wife!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, unable to conceal the hideous glee from his voice.

Laurel had been asleep when Conor and MacInnes learned of the group advancing towards them. They had decided to not inform her, hoping they would be able to handle the situation before she was aware of its existence. They realized the futility of their intent the second they heard her scream.

Conor raced down to the courtyard to his wife who was unconscious on the ground near the north wall. When she came to, she was still dazed from hearing Keith Douglass’s voice. Panic immediately followed.

“It’s not true, Conor. It’s not true.” She grabbed his tunic and pleaded with him to believe her.

“Hush, love. I trust you unconditionally and absolutely.” He looked into her beseeching eyes and tried to reassure her of his certainty that she was his, and only his, wife. “You told me what happened. Remember? I believed you then, and I believe you now.” She began to calm with his words and his strong arms encircling her.

Conor wanted more than anything to protect his wife from hurt and pain. But, as he sat there holding her and glancing at MacInnes, they both knew that in order to buy the time he needed, Conor was going to be forced to cause both—enormous hurt and unexpected pain.

Conor first looked at MacInnes, giving him a nod followed by two words. “Go now.”

The older Scot looked at the most precious thing in the world to him and gave her a quick terse order before he left. “Stay strong. You can do this. Whatever happens, do not tell a soul I was here.” And with one solid kiss on her brow, her grandfather conveyed all the affection he felt for her and then he vanished quickly, heading toward the passage hidden in the cistern chamber.

Conor took hold of his wife’s hands, realizing that he had never been this afraid of anything in his life. “Love, listen to me now. I need you to trust me and believe in what we share. Can you do that? Douglass and his son are coming in and…”

“You are letting those monsters into my home!” Fury filled her voice and eyes but, before he could answer, Laird Douglass had entered the doorway.

“Aye, daughter,” he growled menacingly. Even from twenty feet away she could smell his stench.

“Get out of here!” she yelled, hating to see the vile man in her home.

“Well? Did she admit her folly? I admit my son is lacking in several qualities, but she chose her lot when she said her ‘I do’s.’” The pompous man sneered as he spoke, showing his rotting teeth.

Laurel looked dumbfounded for an instant. Then outrage lit her eyes. “You are despicable. I cannot imagine why my husband let you in here.”

“Perhaps,” Douglass drawled out, “because he is not your husband.”

“Not my husband? You malicious, evil snake. The only one more foul than yourself is your odious son.” Conor’s grip on her arm was no longer just there for appearances; he actually caused her physical pain when she tried to lunge forward.

“You stay here,” Conor ordered forcefully. Then he turned around, not able to look her in the eyes as he drove a stake directly through her heart. “And God help you if those men outside back Keith Douglass’s account of your wedding night.” The enmity ringing in his words stunned her into silence as she watched him retreat into the courtyard to confront the Douglass guards.

She could not prove her account of what happened, and there was no doubt what lies those guards were going to spew. Would Conor really believe them over her? But, he said he believed her. She was still grappling with the shift in his demeanor towards her when he returned, looking very cold and distant. Both Douglasses were on his heels, eagerly anticipating the next round.

Keith, especially, looked pleased with events. After Laurel attacked him and left him for dead, he swore his revenge upon her head. He would have Laurel back and see to it that the rest of her life was spent begging for his mercy. He would have the wench as often as he wanted and treat her as he pleased.

At first, his father was disinclined to agree to his idea. It was no secret that the wench had made her way into McTiernay good graces. Then the marriage plans he had for Keith were suddenly called off, followed by the reason why. The moment Douglass learned that it was McTiernay who ended his hopes for an alliance, he quickly became eager to help with his son’s revenge and seek personal retribution for his loss.

Douglass knew there was no way he would win a war against McTiernay, but to take away the wench? That would hurt a man’s pride a great deal. Despite the blood and dirt on her face that day, he remembered her being something of a beauty, a prize to be had. McTiernay had robbed him of that as well.

Conor needed to buy time. With enough time, he could avert a war and kill Douglass and his son without raising Robert’s ire. But if it all worked according to plan, there would still be an unintended casualty—his beloved Laurel’s love. He prayed she had the strength to stay strong for him, for their future, and for their son. He listened to the lies of the Douglass men, then returned to Laurel, his expression stony.

“Get someone to move your things from the solar into the North Tower. I don’t want to see you ever again.” The coldness of his words drove deep into her soul. Time froze still for a few moments. The next person who spoke sounded as if he were far away, when in reality he was just a few feet away from her.

“Move into the North Tower! She’s mine!” shrieked Keith, who began to move towards her with an evil look of possession on his face. It was the same look of crazed rage he wore the night she refused to marry him in front of the priest.

Conor moved with lightning speed, blocking his path, preventing him from getting anywhere near her. “Stay away from her.” There was no doubt in anyone’s mind what would happen if Keith challenged this command. “The babe she carries is mine. Once it is born, then you can have her. But, until then, she remains alone.”

He then drilled his eyes on Keith’s father. “I will not yield on this.” He grabbed Laurel’s arm forcefully and walked her to her new room in the North Tower.

He had prayed that he would at least get a few minutes to explain, but Laird Douglass followed. “Here is where you will stay until my bairn is born. You will eat here and sleep here. The midwife may visit you daily to ensure that the bairn is well. Other than that, you are to remain out of sight.” He paused, then looking directly at her, pleading with his eyes for her to understand, and added, “I can’t abide liars.” Then the door was shut, and she was alone in the room.

Laurel stood for a long time looking at the door that had just closed, wondering at the cruel twist of fate that had kept Keith alive and let him have his revenge.

She shed no tears. Only when a servant opened the door and brought in her brush, some of her personal belongings, and her only other tunic, did true despair settle in. The young girl had tried to tell her all would be well, but Laurel could tell by her shaky voice that even she doubted what she was saying. As soon as the servant left, Laurel’s tears started to flow.

Later, the same servant brought her food, but Laurel did not feel like eating, and left the bread and stew to grow cold and stale. When Conor heard of her refusal to eat, he realized she had not understood the deception in his performance, but had taken his words as truth. After they survived this, he vowed never to let anyone threaten to take her away again. He would beg her forgiveness and pledge never to hurt her for the rest of their lives. He would promise to always acquiesce when they argued if it would just get her to understand why he had to protect her this way.

Laurel didn’t go to sleep that night, but sat by the window looking out at her precious highlands. The moon was bright and, while the night air was cool, it was not too chilly. It would have been an ideal night to visit the stars on top of the Star Tower. At least she had a room fairly high up, and it provided her with a view to think by.

Morning came, and with it another meal she decided to pass on. She knew she should eat for the baby’s sake, but she was not hungry. After a while, she crawled into the bed and fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.

When she awoke, it was dark, and moonlight filled the room. But with the darkness came enlightenment. She was surprised she had not recognized the truth earlier. In her dream, she went to see her wise friend Aileen, who, as always, enabled her to see the other side of her world.

Removing the emotion from behind the events, Laurel was able to better understand what had happened the day before. First, Conor had told her that he trusted her unconditionally and absolutely. He said he believed her. Then her grandfather had said to remain strong and not to tell anyone that he came to visit. Finally, Conor had asked her to trust him.

Awake and watching the moonlight ripple on the river below with its strong current engorged by the melting of the winter snows, Laurel tossed the words over and over in her mind. She then reluctantly replayed what happened afterwards. Conor had acted as if he hated her. But then, when Keith made a move to attack her, Conor had immediately reacted and protected her.

All at once, Laurel understood. Conor needed to buy time. Time and protection. All of it, the anger, the words, even the grip on her arm, was all a ruse to deceive both Douglass and his son. He was using her pregnancy to buy him and her grandfather some time as well as protect her and his son from having to be with the Douglasses. At the realization, her heart went out to Conor, who was having to endure the Douglasses—their words, their stench, their presence in his home—by himself. The sympathy poured out of her and into the night sky. If there was only some way that she could tell him that she was fine, that she understood, and that she would keep their son safe until he found a way to solve this disaster. She then ate all of the dinner left on the table.

Conor got the message. She was eating, sleeping, and receiving Hagatha. She wouldn’t have given in this quickly unless she had understood or at least trusted him.

Four days passed. If Laurel had not regained her confidence and faith in him, he never would have made it so long. He had been able to keep the Douglasses outside the curtain walls, but only after agreeing to allow four Douglass guards to stand watch at the North Tower doors. Hagatha was escorted to Laurel’s room on the third day, but not allowed to leave again. One guard escorted the servants as they came and went to ensure no messages were being exchanged.

Conor allowed it all. He kept Brighid and Aileen away and even detained his brothers in the Star Tower. Conor hated to do it, but he knew their loyalty to Laurel could jeopardize his abhorrent plan.

Conor was fortunate that his brothers had cornered him in his solar and not in one of the halls. Their frustration over the idea that Douglass and his men were allowed on McTiernay land was understandable. They had not even heard of Laurel’s imprisonment. Their youth and inability to control their emotions forced Conor into his decision. Everyone he loved was living in forced confinement but him. He was living in a hell of his own making.

Laurel woke up to a sharp pain. She looked over at her old friend snoring next to her. Early dawn light was coming around the curtains that now hung in the window. Hagatha had complained that she was sensitive to light when sleeping and required complete darkness to sleep well. Laurel had happily acquiesced to her friend’s request.

Hagatha was her one companion and, consequently, her one confidante. While agreeing immediately with Laurel’s assessment of the situation, Hagatha could not figure out what Conor’s plan was, either. Both of them just prayed and hoped he would be able to end this before her baby was born.