Always Mine (37 page)

My life, my love, belongs to you.

At the song’s end, Mereck grinned and rose to come stand with them, he on her right and Damron on her left. When Mereck began the haunting tune Galan had composed, she started to protest, but hearing Damron join him, she relaxed.

Her words floated to meld with theirs.

By his actions, Damron strove to make amends for his jealous deeds at Ridley. This night, they had given each other a precious gift: their joined voices.

Damron asked Angus to pipe them a tune so they could dance. Mereck nodded, made a beeline for Meghan and ignored her protests. Eric MacLaren hauled Elizabeth Neilson, a redhead with a fiery temper who aided Brianna and Meghan to dunk the men with soapy water, to the center of the room.

He stated they would start the dance so Brianna could see how it was done. After Brianna watched for a while, Damron led her to teach her the steps. It was her first attempt at Highland dancing.

Her softness and heady scent made his body ache with love.

When she finally begged fatigue, he worried over the dark

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shadows under her eyes. He breathed a kiss on the forehead.

She surprised him by rising on her toes and kissing his chin.

Damron’s heart surged with that unexpected, public kiss. He cuddled her in his arms and carried her to their bedchamber.

One cold, blustery night, a messenger with torn clothing and bruises on his face galloped over the drawbridge to bring news that brigands had raided a Blackthorn village ten leagues away. Damron and Mereck summoned knights and warriors to aid the hamlet. Before first light, they rode out.

When the sun was at its prime, they had yet to see signs of strife along the much-traveled path. Damron halted and ordered the villager brought to him. Spencer went in search of the man, but returned with word that the villager had dropped to the end of the line, after he claimed his horse had picked up a stone. No one had seen him since. Spencer found signs that a horse had left the trail and headed off into the woods.

As his suspicions raged, Damron’s heart thundered with worry for Brianna. He ordered the men to make haste water-ing their horses and return to Blackthorn. He and Mereck far outstripped the column as they galloped back the way they had come.

Bleddyn walked deep into the forest, searching for herbs which could be picked only as dawn rose. He carefully lifted a small plant into a sack. Tree leaves began to rustle and murmur, and then Cloud Dancer circled above and screeched.

Bleddyn stiffened, then broke into a run back to the castle.

Within the keep, David fought sleep after downing his last cup of ale. At last, he slumped against the wall outside Brianna’s door. Guardian also could not keep his eyes open.

Neither man nor wolf heard footsteps approach.

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Brianna heard her name. She opened her eyes to see someone stood beside her bed.

“Little love, awake for me,” he whispered, as Damron was wont to do.

“Dear God, is something wrong, Damron?”

He turned to her bedside table to pick up a cup of milk mixed with honey, and emptied a small vessel into it. “Awake and drink, Brianna, for I will make slow and passionate love to ye.”

Too late, she knew it wasn’t her love’s voice. She tried to scramble to the other side of the bed to escape and screamed,

“Get out!”

The man gripped the back of her head, jerked her back and held the cup to her lips. She clawed at his wrists, choked and tried to spit out the liquid. Until the last drop passed her lips, he kept flooding her mouth with the potion. Tossing the cup aside, he clamped his hand over her lips and dug into her soft cheeks to stifle her screams. He crawled onto the bed to straddle her.

Brianna fought, knowing this was the man she had feared would find her again. God help her! Why had she not put her misericord beneath her pillow? She tried to scream.

“If ye wish no harm to the bairn, do not fight me. When I took ye from the waterfall, did I not say that ye would yet be mine?”

Brianna aimed a knee at his groin. He cursed and back-handed her face, subduing her until the drugged milk began to take effect. Her struggles weakened. Her body relaxed. The man ripped off his black mask and clothing and began to kiss her face. With greedy eagerness, he made his way to her swollen breasts, leaving bruises wherever he suckled. With his knees, he forced her legs wide as he freed his turgid shaft.

He pressed his rod to her, his breath loud and labored with excitement.

Asceline burst into the room and grabbed his shoulder. “Get

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dressed, Rollo. That lovesick fool is returning.” Her voice vibrated with hate. Two men entered, carrying a naked man.

“Satan take ye.” Rollo shook off her hand and snarled. “Ye said I’d have her. I’ll not leave her behind. She comes with us.”

“Simpleton! She would slow our escape. Do you want Damron’s blade at your throat?”

Asceline and the men posed the naked body beside Brianna. Rollo’s rod was rigid, more huge and swollen than at any time in his life. His gaze never leaving Brianna’s ripen-ing body, he muttered obscene words as he gave a few fast jerks of his hand. His seed spurted onto her thighs. Before the spasms ended, he shot his last over the flaccid member of the unconscious man.

“Explain this to the mighty Laird of Blackthorn. He will discard ye now,” Asceline sneered.

They crept past the unconscious David and Guardian, dashed across the open areas and stole past the guards slumped at the postern gate at the castle’s side wall. They heard the chains grating as the drawbridge was lowered.

Damron and Mereck thundered across the meadow, shouting for the guards to lower the drawbridge and open the portcullis. They galloped into the bailey and flung themselves from their steeds at the foot of the stairs. Both ran until they reached the sleeping guards. Seeing Guardian and David, Damron’s heart lurched. He burst through the doorway, his sword gripped tight in his fist.

Damron stalked to the bed and jerked open the bed hangings.

Chapter 22

Damron spied two pale, naked figures sleeping side by side on his bed. White-hot fury sped blood through his heart till it near burst with it. Nay! It could not be. Not again!

“Bar the door, brother. Light the candles. I would see the man clearly afore I spill his blood.” Damron snarled the words through taut lips.

As Mereck lit each of the four candles in the holder beside the bed, the scene unfolded through the brightening light. Eric lay sprawled close against Brianna’s side, his right arm thrown across her and his hand cupped over her breast. Bile surged to Damron’s throat, for he recognized the unmistakable sight of a man’s milky seed on their bodies. Gripping his sword hilt with both hands, he raised it high, its sharp point ready to plunge into the sleeping man’s heart.

“Hold!” Mereck’s shout stopped Damron. “By God’s blood, something is amiss. Look at them.” His steely hands on Damron’s wrist forced the blade away.

“I am lookin’, brother, and ’tis not a sight for any man to bear—

his wife, swollen with his bairn, and his good friend beside her.

I see Eric’s seed on his tarse; I see his seed on Brianna.” His voice, forced out of his throat with effort, near choked him. “’Tis worse

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than Genevieve’s betrayal. How will I know if my wife carries my child or Eric’s?” He tossed the sheet over Brianna and hauled Eric off the bed onto the cold floor. He yanked off one of the braided bed curtain ropes, and tossed it to Mereck.

“Tie the bastard. Then find out why Connor and the men we left to guard the keep failed in their duty.” His nails cut into his palms as Mereck did as he asked, then left.

Bleddyn pounded up the stairs, his cape sailing behind him, and near knocked Mereck over. Marcus opened the door only wide enough for the Welshman to enter. Bleddyn glanced at Eric on the floor, then went immediately to the bed. Without speaking, he grasped Damron’s shoulders and moved him aside, for Damron stared at Brianna like he had turned to stone.

“Brianna’s neck is limp, as are her limbs,” Bleddyn pointed out as his gentle fingers checked them. “Someone’s hands have bruised her face, neck. Her breasts, too.” He picked up her hands and studied them. “Blood is on her fingers, flesh beneath her nails.” He frowned and went over to kneel beside Eric.

He turned the unconscious man to find a huge lump covered with blood on the back of Eric’s head. “Damron, did either you or Mereck do this? Have you known a man to make love after a blow savage enough to kill?”

Damron clutched the sheet with white-knuckled fingers.

Brianna had said fawn-colored hair mingled with hers at the waterfall. He glanced at Eric’s light hair, then his gaze roved down to the tracks of semen. “Explain how he spent himself, and why ’tis on my wife’s thighs.”

Bleddyn bent and picked up the cup to sniff and taste the drops of milk there. “Someone drugged her, Damron, and I see no gouges on Eric’s body to account for the flesh under her nails.”

Damron stared, not moving. Finally, Bleddyn prodded him to action. “Examine your wife. You will find proof she did not swive with Eric.” He turned his back when Damron bent over Brianna.

Damron found cuts and scratches between her legs, but

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no sign of a man’s seed. His breath whooshed from his lungs, but right after, wrath turned his body rigid. He stormed to the door and jerked it open.

“Mari, have a bath brought for yer mistress,” he bellowed, his face a rigid mask of anger. Mari, already pale and shivering, near jumped out of her skin. Lady Phillipa started to enter the room, but Damron shook his head and closed the door. When the water arrived, he barred the door with his body and passed the buckets to Bleddyn.

Damron carried his unconscious wife to the tub. He bathed her, his hands gentle, as he cleansed her flesh of the man’s filthy touch. His heart ached that he could not wash away her hurts.

After Bleddyn bandaged Eric’s head, he turned to Damron and shook his head. “Come. Her skin will be sore if you do not stop.”

Damron swallowed and nodded, then wrapped Brianna in a warm cloth and sat beside a glowing brazier with her. Bleddyn knelt and placed a tube against her chest and listened to her slow and labored pulse. At last, he turned his attention to her swollen belly. As his splayed hands stilled on the sheet, waiting for the child’s movements, his face paled.

Eyes closed, Bleddyn clasped his talisman and cupped a warm hand over her babe’s shape. For long moments, energy seemed to flow from his hands into her. Each time Damron started to speak, Bleddyn shook his head. After some time, he looked up.

“I feel slight movements. As if the babe wakes and tried to stretch. A tiny foot kicked.” He frowned. “Whoever drugged our little one and her babe also rendered the guards unconscious and struck Eric a mighty blow. Your return foiled them. They planned to ruin Brianna and Eric in your eyes.”

Bleddyn added softly, “Someone hoped you would kill Brianna, or at the least, cast her aside.”

“I dinna doubt I am well-hated by more than one man.”

Damron’s voice was bitter. “By Lucifer’s wicked heart! Had we

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not suspected something awry, he would have had all of her. Surely

’tis the same man who stole Brianna on our journey here.”

Bleddyn prepared a potion, one which would not harm the bairn, to offset the sleeping brew. Damron spooned it past her lips, while Bleddyn and Marcus carried Eric to a pallet in Connor’s room.

Damron sat with Brianna in his arms, holding her nestled to his chest, her head beneath his chin. She soon became restless in her cramped position. Damron, reluctant to release her, put her on the bed and snuggled the covers over her shoulders. He sat beside her, guarding her while he waited for her to awake and tell him who had attacked her.

Mereck returned carrying Guardian in his arms, and lowered him to the rug beside the bed. “This great beastie will be upset when he awakes. ’Tis best he be by your side. He will be calmer.” He straightened and nodded to Bleddyn. “Within the keep, the intruders drugged only those closest to this chamber. Connor struggles to fight off the sleeping potion, but Meghan sleeps as soundly as David.”

Bleddyn nodded, then left to tend those who were drugged.

Mereck poured wine into two cups and motioned for Damron to come sit with him beside the table. He watched as Damron swirled the wine in his mouth, his brows creased in a frown as he stared at the rumpled bed.

“Brother, how can you mistrust Brianna? From what I can see, she has been naught but honest and caring. I dinna ken how you can think she has betrayed you.”

Not speaking, Damron studied him through narrowed eyes.

“What happened with Genevieve? I expect Connor knows, but I have never questioned him on it. I have sensed your thoughts, but I would not pry into your mind seeking to learn what you did not want me to know.” Seeing Damron had drained his cup, Mereck refilled it. “Mayhap it will ease your mind to speak of it.”

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Damron leaned back in the chair, a grimace distorting his face.

“Aye. Mayhap it will.” He kneaded his forehead and wished he could rid himself of his painful thoughts. He sighed, then leaned forward with his arms braced on his knees.

“Genevieve and I were married less than a year. King William sent me to Rouen on a matter, and I stopped to visit Mother’s kin. I returned to the court a sennight earlier than expected . . .”

His shameful tale unfolded. “I rode hard to surprise Genevieve. A locket studded with blue stones—her favorite—

rested in my pocket. ’Twas her name day.

“I was cautious not to startle her when I opened our chamber door. The first rays of dawn crept through the window. It streaked her hair with golden highlights. Her back was to me.

She was naked. Her alabaster skin glistened with sweat.” His words choked off, and he took a deep breath.