Highlander Unmasked (44 page)

“I think so,” Alex said. “But until she wakes—”

He stopped as her eyes fluttered open. Beautiful green eyes—surprisingly lucid beautiful green eyes—met his. “What happened?”

Alex could have wept for joy. Her voice sounded marvelously strong. He knew he shouldn’t jostle her, so he resisted the urge to enfold her in his arms again and kiss her senseless. Instead, he smoothed the hair from her brow. Not wanting to remind her of what happened, he answered her question with one of his own. “How do you feel?”

His question seemed to snap her back to the present. Her face lit with joy. She lifted her hand to cradle one side of his face, rubbing her palm across his stubbled jaw. “Alex, you’re alive…I was so scared.”

He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose and smiled, his eyes growing suspiciously damp. Emotion locked in his throat. Everything was going to be all right. “Aye, lass, I was scared, too.”
More scared than I’ve ever been in my life.

Her adorable little nose wrinkled. “All I remember is running and the dirk…” She looked down at her side and blanched. “Oh.”

“Why did you do it, love? God, Meg, you could have been killed.” The full force of what might have happened hit him hard again.

“I didn’t stop to think, I just reacted.” She gave him an adorable little shy smile. “I love you, Alex. I couldn’t let him kill you because of me.” The smile broadened as she remembered something else. “And you love me.”

“Aye, you heard that, did you?”

She nodded.

“More than my life.”

She squeezed his hand, tears glistening in her eyes. “Say it. Please.”

Alex looked deep into her eyes. “I love you, Margaret Mackinnon. With all my heart.”

He pressed his mouth gently against hers, needing to taste her, even if briefly. He felt her immediate response as she opened her mouth for him, melting against him in sweet surrender.

Hearing Ruaidri approach with Robbie, Alex broke the kiss. How the lad had managed to find him so fast, Alex didn’t know, but he was grateful. He moved aside to allow the older man to examine Meg, though he held her hand the entire time. Needing the connection. He couldn’t stop touching her, assuring himself that she was going to be all right. That she wasn’t going to die.

After a few minutes, Ruaidri stood up. “It will need to be stitched, and I suspect she’ll be weak for a few days, but with a proper poultice the lass will be fine.”

Alex sighed with relief. It was the first relaxed breath he’d taken since Dougal had appeared with Meg.

When he thought of what she’d done, risking her life for his, he was moved beyond words. Humbled, awed, and now that he knew she would be all right, not a little bit angered. But
that
discussion, he would save for later. Now, he just wanted to carry her away from here.

Meg was floating on a wave of pure euphoria, feeling nothing but the strength of Alex’s love. The searing pain in her side seemed strangely detached, almost not her own. Everything was going to be all right. Alex was safe. Dougal was dead, and she…well, she had everything she ever wanted. The perfect man for her
and
her clan.

Alex slid his arm under her back and started to lift her. She winced at the sharp reminder of her injury.

“I’m sorry, love. This might hurt, but I need to lift you up to get you on my horse, all right?” When she nodded, he added, “Put pressure on it like this.” He moved her hand over the pad he’d fashioned as a bandage. “It has stopped bleeding for now, but tell me immediately if it starts bleeding again.”

“I think I can stand,” she offered.

“No.”

He looked so charmingly worried, she decided not to argue. It was too wonderful being cared for so lovingly. Gently, Alex lifted her and bundled her in his arms. She pressed her cheek against his thick quilted cotun, the tiny plates of metal cool against her cheek. She wanted to stay in his arms forever. And she could when…

All of a sudden it hit her.

“Alex! The battle. Is it over?”

He shook his head. “’Tis just begun, love.”

Her stomach lurched. Her own need to have him near her, holding her, warred with the knowledge of what she had to do. She knew how important this was to him. Knew precisely what was at stake. Knew the men who were relying on him.
It wasn’t over.
No matter how tight she wanted to hold on to him, no matter how much she needed him, he wasn’t hers—yet. Her chest squeezed as she forced the words from her mouth, releasing him. “You must go to them. Your men need you. Jamie can take me to the village.”

“My men are well trained. I’ll not leave you. Not until I see you to safety.”

“But it might be too late—”

His expression turned obstinate and forbidding. “Don’t argue with me, Meg. Not about this. You could have died.”

Something in his eyes stopped her. The raw emotion. The hint of lingering fear.

“But I didn’t,” she said softly. “Promise me you’ll go—”

“I will. As soon as I am assured of your safety.” They’d reached the area where his horse was tethered. Meg listened proudly as Alex gave orders to his men. His quick decisiveness and utter command never ceased to impress her. Most of the men he sent to help those battling the castle guards. A few of her father’s men who’d accompanied her on the
birlinn
were to keep watch over the MacDonalds, and Robbie would ride to Neil and explain what had happened.

“Is there anything I can do?” Jamie asked.

Alex nodded. “Ride ahead. Find a healer and have her come at once to the inn.”

Carefully, he handed her to Robbie while he mounted his horse. She felt a fresh stab of pain at her side but smothered her cry, not wanting to alarm Alex. Soon, she was settled before him, happily ensconced against the protective wall of his chest.

The ride to the village did not take long, but Meg wasn’t feeling so well. She felt queasy and unbearably weak. But she forced herself to be strong and fought the nausea rising in her throat. She realized that her wound had opened and blood was seeping from her side, thankfully well hidden under her
arisaidh.

It was getting harder and harder to keep her eyes open. She was so tired, so horribly tired. Her eyelids felt so heavy. Her dreams beckoned, tempted. No, there was something she had to do. One more thing before she slept.

She felt a prickle of alarm, knowing she was losing too much blood. But she dared not say anything to Alex. If she did, he would never leave her. And he needed to do this. Needed to help his kin, or the past would always haunt him.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

Awful.
“Fine. I’m sure it looks worse than it is,” she said, nearly exhausting what little strength she had left to make her voice sound normal.

“We’re almost there.”

A few minutes later, they found the inn and an available room. Alex had just finished laying her down on the bed when Jamie followed with the healer, a short, roundish woman of indiscriminate age with graying hair and a pleasant face. Meg relaxed immediately. The woman gave off an indisputable air of capability.

Alex relayed what had happened, and the woman, Mairi, bent over Meg to begin her examination. Meg was starting to panic, which the woman obviously mistook for embarrassment, and she quickly shooed the men out of the room.

Meg flinched as she started to peel back the sticky layers of clothing, using a knife where necessary to cut the seams.

Mairi gave her a hard look. “Why did you say nothing? You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“Please,” Meg begged. “You must do something for me.” She knew she sounded desperate, bordering on hysterical. “You must tell him that everything looks fine. He’ll never leave…please.”

The woman frowned disapprovingly and shook her head. “If you are sure that is what you want?”

Meg nodded furiously. “Yes. Please. It is very important.”

“Very well.” The healer opened the door, and Alex immediately entered the room.

“I will stitch the wound to stop the bleeding. All she needs is rest,” Mairi assured him.

“See?” Meg said brightly. The relief in his eyes gave her a burst of strength, and she managed a smile. “I’ll be fine. Go now.”

He bent over her and kissed her hard. Meg drank in the taste of him, wanting to grab on to him and never let him go. Did he sense her desperation in the fervor of her response?

“You’re sure?” he asked, looking uncertain.

“Of course I’m sure. I’ll be here when you return.”

“I’ll be back as soon as possible.” He looked to Jamie. “Send for me if anything changes.”

His lips pressed against her forehead, his arms squeezed her tight, she heard him whisper something, and then he was gone.

Through sheer force of will, Meg refused to give in to the dizziness and the weight that hovered over her. Not yet…the door slammed. A horse galloped away. A few more minutes…

Only then, when she was assured that he was truly gone, did the blackness envelop her.

Chapter 26

Stornoway Castle fell, but not without a struggle. It was two days before Alex walked through the castle gates with Neil and savored the victory that had taken two long days of constant fighting, and four years of preparation, to achieve.

He was filthy, sore, and exhausted, with a dozen new cuts and bruises peppered across his scar-ridden body, but he was happier than he’d felt in years. To Alex, it felt as if a great weight had been lifted off him.

It was done.

The Fife Adventurers had been sent scurrying back to Edinburgh. His kin once again held Lewis, and justice had prevailed. At last the ghosts had quieted. The deaths of his cousins had been avenged.

He couldn’t wait to get back to Meg. To the woman he loved. And to his future. There would be problems—not least his precarious position with the king—but he was confident they would find a solution. Together.

The smell of blood permeated the morning air, drawing his attention back to the present. He gazed around the courtyard, at the slew of bodies littering the dirt, and shook his head with disgust at the prodigious waste of life.

After leaving Meg at the inn, Alex had arrived just in time to help his men defeat the last of the castle guards.

Using the defeated guardsmen’s boats, he and his men had joined Patrick in the battle at sea. Unable to land, and under constant attack, the ship had retreated, leaving the castle severely underdefended. Despite their assured defeat, those who remained in the castle had refused to surrender, necessitating the further loss of life.

He had just set about seeing to the removal of bodies when a rider stormed into the courtyard under the portcullis. Alex’s mood changed in an instant when he recognized the man. It was the messenger from the village who’d brought news of Meg from Jamie. And he was obviously in a hurry.

“For you, my laird,” the man said, handing Alex a missive.

Alex scanned the letter, and his stomach crashed to his feet.
No.

Meg begged me not to write you, but I’ve waited as long as I dare. Come quick. Fever has set in. I fear…do not delay.

J.

Neil must have read something in his expression. “What’s the matter?”

Alex had already started to run for his horse. “I have to go.”

Meg woke with a strange heaviness crushing her skull. She opened her eyes and quickly closed them again. Bright sunlight filtered through a small window, flooding the room with light and splitting her head in two. Wincing against the offending sun, she made a sound of pain.

Her hand was immediately enfolded in a strong grasp, and she felt the warm, calming presence of someone at her side. The same strong presence she’d felt in her dreams. The same strong presence that had called her back while she floated on the calming sea.

“Thank God you’re awake.”

Alex,
she realized. Why did his voice sound so strange? Raw, almost desperate. She frowned. What was he doing here? He’d promised to go to Neil. Jamie had sworn not to send for him.

More cautiously this time, she opened her eyes. It wasn’t a dream. He was there, at her side, so golden, so radiantly handsome that it was almost difficult to look at him. She blinked and looked again. Actually, he looked as though he’d gone through hell and back. His eyes were bloodshot, he looked exhausted beyond measure, and his face was strained and bruised with barely healed cuts—

Her eyes snapped open.

“Oh God, Alex, you’re hurt!” she exclaimed. She tried to sit up, only to slump back down on the bed when her head exploded in pain. She fought the swift kick of nausea.

“Shhh,” he said gently, pressing a damp cloth on her forehead. “I’m fine. A few cuts and bruises, nothing more. Don’t try to sit up.”

“But why are you here? Why aren’t you with your men? What’s happened?”

He smoothed her hair over the top of her head and rubbed tiny circles at her temples, immediately soothing the pressure in her head.

“It’s all over.”

“What!” She shot up, only to crumple back onto her pillow again. Perhaps he was right. Lying down seemed a good idea. “But when? How?”