“Talking? To whom?”
Alexander gave a gruff laugh. “No one.”
“My husband, you are making little sense.”
“A fact I well realize. When I asked the lass who she was speaking with, she said to an elderly woman.”
Nichola stilled. “Your grandmother appeared?”
“I did not see her.”
“Do you believe Mistress Cristina did?”
“I believe the lass was outside her chamber, heard me coming and when confronted, crafted a tale.”
“But you are not sure.”
He muttered a curse. “Nae, which helps naught. Mistress Cristina’s surprise at seeing me seemed real; she seemed startled when she turned and found no woman sitting before the hearth.”
Nichola laid her son upon her shoulder, rubbed the middle of his back in a slow sweep, but Alexander saw a slight nervous tremble.
“What do you think your grandmother appearing before Mistress Cristina means?”
“It means the lass was where she shouldna be.”
Silence.
“Alexander?”
“Aye?”
“When the malachite appeared before . . . It was your grandmother’s way of letting us know Patrik lived.” Their son burped, and with shaky movements, Nichola tucked him within the swaddling cloth, then laid him against her chest. “Was Patrik’s halved stone still within the bowl?”
“Aye,” he said, irritated he’d mentioned his brother’s name.
She inhaled, released a shaky breath. “Do you think . . .”
“That the lass is the woman meant for Patrik?” He shrugged. “She did not take the stone.”
“But?”
“Blast it. I do not wish to speak of this. ’Tis foolery. The story of the stones is a myth, a fable crafted by my brothers to tease me when I abducted you.”
“Mayhap.” A smile wobbled on her mouth. “But do you not find it odd that every woman who has married a MacGruder brother has taken the halved stone of her mate?”
He scowled. “Patrik’s stone remains.”
“But, you said Mistress Cristina saw your grandmother ?”
“The lass stated that she spoke with an elderly woman, if I am to believe that.” Alexander drew his wife and child within his arms.
She laid her cheek against his shoulder. “What will you tell your brothers?”
“I know not. ’Tis a bloody mess.”
“Alexander?”
He met her gaze. “Aye?”
“You said there was another stone?”
“Aye. Never have I seen it before.”
“What do you think it means?”
“I do not know, but I assure you, I will speak with my brothers at first light. Exactly what I will tell them is another matter.”
Anger sparked in Seathan’s eyes as he stood in Patrik’s chamber by the window. “What was Mistress Cristina doing in our grandmother’s chamber?”
In complete detail, Alexander explained to his brothers and Griffin last night’s events.
“And when you arrived within your grandmother’s chamber, no one else was within the room?” Griffin asked, clearly intrigued by the new twist in the MacGruder family mystery.
“Nay.” Alexander thrummed his fingers upon the hilt of his dagger. “But from the shock on Mistress Cristina’s face as she turned and found no one there, ’tis hard to discount her claim as a lie.”
Duncan shook his head. “It had to be our grandmother.”
Alexander eyed his younger brother. “I do not want to believe it. I fought throughout the night to find another reason, yet nothing else makes sense.” He muttered a curse. “The lass knows not ’twas our grandmother’s chamber, nor has she ever met her. Yet, she described her in exact detail.”
“So, it seems our grandmother’s spirit indeed visits the chamber,” Seathan said, his voice raw with wonder. “And it would explain the reappearance of Patrik’s stone months ago.”
“It was your grandmother’s way of revealing Patrik lived,” Griffin said. “But why would his gemstone have disappeared to begin with?”
“At this moment,” Seathan replied, “the only one who knows that is our grandmother.”
Silence filled the chamber as the brothers shared a look of agreement as to what their grandmother’s appearance to Mistress Cristina meant.
Alexander frowned, not liking the mystery. Was Cristina indeed meant for Patrik? Nay, had she taken the stone, then he would be convinced.
“But,” Alexander said, “it does nae explain the appearance of the other halved stone within the bowl, a gem I have never seen before.”
Duncan frowned. “A second stone? Sword’s wrath, ’tis a muddle.”
“Think you I do not know that?” Alexander said. “I had barred the bloody chamber myself.”
“It would seem barriers matter not when our grandmother is involved,” Seathan said.
“Do you think there are more halved stones to appear?” At Alexander’s scowl, Duncan raised his hands. “Do nae give me that look.”
“At this moment,” Seathan broke in, “our most pressing need is to figure out how to free Bishop Wishart, not the stones or their importance.”
Griffin rubbed the back of his neck.
His brother-in-law’s nervous action caught Alexander’s attention. “What is wrong?”
A hesitant look crossed Griffin’s face. “What did the stone look like?”
Alexander crossed his arms. “Why?”
“On my many trips to Lochshire Castle over the years,” Griffin replied, “I had the pleasure of meeting your grandmother.”
Seathan’s gaze narrowed. “You would.”
“On one such visit, she requested my presence in private. And,” Griffin said as he withdrew the chain from around his neck, “gave me this halved magnesite.”
Alexander gasped, his gut dropping to his toes, “’Tis a bloody perfect match!”
Chapter 17
Patrik’s body ached and his head pounded as if a mace had struck it. He blinked against the morning sun filtering into his chamber.
Though furnished with little more than a bed, a wooden nightstand and a chest for his garb, this represented his home, a place where, when but a broken lad, he’d come and rebuilt his shattered life.
He noticed his brothers and Griffin standing within the chamber. For the past year their absence had left an aching void within him. Now, desperately, he wanted them back.
Seathan muttered a curse at Alexander’s comment about the English, dragging Patrik’s thoughts to the discussion at hand. “Aye.” He shifted and pain shot through his arm, sending his shoulder muscles into spasms. With a muttered curse at his weakness, he cleared his throat. “With Wishart in English hands, Wallace’s leadership is essential if we are to stop the English.”
Seathan nodded. “Wallace is gathering forces in Selkirk Forest. Andrew de Moray and his forces should join Wallace before the end of August. Whatever it takes, the English must not reach Stirling Castle.”
“Aye,” Patrik agreed. “We must stop them before they cross the Forth.”
“Wallace plans to set up the combined armies north of the bridge that crosses the Forth,” Griffin explained.
“’Twill be dangerous,” Duncan said.
“More so if the Earl of Surrey sends troops upstream to cross the river where sixty men can ride abreast.” Alexander met each man’s gaze. “If they choose such a tactic, I am unsure whether Wallace’s and de Moray’s troops can hold them.”
“What other choice is there?” Patrik asked.
Duncan exhaled. “Bloody none. Regardless, we will fight.”
Somberness smothered the chamber, thick with unspoken fears, raw with determination to free their country. Too well Patrik understood. If the English claimed Stirling Castle, the bloodied ground so far won by the rebels could be lost.
Patrik met his oldest brother’s gaze. “Have you begun plans to free Wishart?”
“A foundation,” Seathan replied. “I have sent runners to those familiar with the keep where the bishop is held to be sure the plan is solid.”
“I wish to help.” Patrik held his brother’s gaze. “And when you prepare to leave I will go with you.”
“You are too weak,” Seathan replied.
“And with your wounds raw, you hurt like a bastard,” Alexander added.
“There is that,” Patrik agreed, “but in a few days I will be able to ride and carry a sword as well as any man.”
“When the time comes to depart,” Seathan said, his eyes hard, “I will judge if you are strong enough.”
As much as Patrik wished to push for Seathan to agree, his brother’s decision was fair. Neither could he forget he stayed within Lochshire Castle by Seathan’s grace.
“How fares Mistress Cristina?” At Alexander’s covert glance at Seathan, Patrik tensed. “Is she well?”
“Aye.” Seathan hesitated. “She sleeps but a few chambers away.”
“But there is more?” Patrik asked, reading his brothers too well despite his year away.
Duncan cleared his throat, and Griffin shot Seathan an uneasy look.
Patrik’s nervousness built. “What?”
Alexander thrummed his fingers upon his dagger. “Last night I discovered Mistress Cristina within our grandmother’s chamber.”
“If her room is but a few doors away,” Patrik said, “what reason would bring her to the third floor?”
“A question I asked her,” Alexander replied. “The lass said she was searching for you.”
She’d tried to find him? Warmth touched Patrik’s heart, then he frowned. “Why would the lass have to search?”
“We thought it best for you to rest,” Seathan stated.
Rest bedamned. “She was not told where I was. Why?”
A muscle worked in Alexander’s jaw. “There is something about the lass that sits not right.”
Patrik eyed him. “Explain.”
In detail, Alexander recounted her skilled attack upon him during his fight with Patrik, then later, how he had found her creeping toward the back of the wagon in the dark as they’d neared Lochshire Castle.
“After my rescuing her,” Patrik said, “it makes sense she would try to protect me.”
Alexander grunted. “Mayhap, but when the lass wrapped her arms about my neck, she knew what she was about.”
Images of her killing the English knight flashed through Patrik’s mind. When he’d witnessed her skill with the blade, had he not wondered the same? But ’twas different. Now, they’d made love, shared a bond of trust.
Patrik shook his head. “Cristina was terrified for my life. Had Nichola seen you attacked, she would have done the same.”
“What of slipping toward the back of the wagon?” Seathan asked. “Do you think she was trying to leave?”
“There could be many reasons for her quietly moving about the wagon, including consideration,” Patrik stated, recalling his own unjust accusations within the loft when he’d believed she was searching for the writ. “I was injured and asleep. Marie and her daughter slept nearby.” He glanced toward Alexander. “You saw her moving about, not trying to leave the wagon.”
Alexander muttered a curse. “I know what I saw, but aye, as you said, I do not have proof.” He slanted his brothers a look, then faced Patrik. “We know you care for the lass. Your feelings may sway your thoughts.”
“My thoughts are nae swayed,” Patrik stated, his voice cool.
“Mayhap,” Duncan said, “but is she a woman you can trust?”
Pride filled him. “I have placed my life within Cristina’s hands throughout our journey.”
“But do you trust her?” Seathan asked with no accusation.
Patrik’s doubts again came to mind, and one by one each fell away. An ache built in his heart, like an arrow to his soul.
“Aye.” That, and more. The realization shook Patrik to the very core. Images of their bodies entwined as they’d made love filled his mind, and he recalled their talks as he’d held her after. “I love her,” he whispered, shocked by the words as much as that he’d spoken them.
“By my sword,” Alexander muttered. “You did not even know your feelings for the lass?”
“No.” Patrik gave a rough laugh, his mind floundering with the revelation. “Saint’s breath, until this moment, I was focused only on the mission.”
“Her actions show that she cares for you,” Seathan said, “but does she love you as well?”
“I do not know.” Sadness wove through Patrik. “It matters not. However much I care for the lass, until Scotland is free, I can offer her no guarantees.”
Duncan grunted. “As if any of us can offer our wives the same? I have twin daughters now, yet I go on. We cannot wait for sure things before we continue with our lives.”
Frustration surged through Patrik. “Easily said when you have a family to shelter you.”
“A family your actions sought to destroy,” Alexander charged.
Patrik shook his head. “Nae, a family I sought to protect. I have explained my reasons.” Patrik paused. “And I understand you can never find forgiveness.” Somber, he shook his head. “As I said before, once I am well enough, I will leave. Before I go, I ask to be allowed to ride with you to free Bishop Wishart.”
“You will leave after we have found you?” Duncan asked.
“Found me?” Patrik gave a cold laugh. “Nae, I chose to reveal myself.”
“And now?” Seathan asked.
“Now?” Patrik stared at the men within the chamber, brothers of his heart. “Have I a choice?”
Tense silence filled the room.
Seathan cast a glance at Alexander.
“Aye,” Alexander said. “’Tis up to you to choose if you remain. We are family. Wrongs were committed, but they are past.”
“You forgive me?” Patrik asked, stunned, afraid to repeat the words as if they would be swept away.
Alexander grimaced. “I am working on it. It is not something I can rush nor lie about. As for Nichola, ’twill be her decision to make.”
Nichola. The woman who was the gateway to his true acceptance within their family. “Do you think she will ever forgive me?”
Alexander shrugged. “I do not know.”
Tension vibrated within the chamber. Patrik swallowed hard, prayed he would find a way to overcome the wrongs he’d done her. He touched the halved malachite around his neck, caught his brothers stealing glances at the other. “What?”
Seathan grimaced. “Your malachite.”
“What about it?” Patrik asked.
“When we thought you had died,” his oldest brother said, “your halved stone disappeared from our grandmother’s chamber.”
“It disappeared?” Patrik asked.
“Aye,” Alexander replied. “A few months ago, it returned.”
Patrik frowned. “How?”
“It would seem,” Duncan said, “’tis a question for our grandmother to answer.”
“Your grandmother is dead,” Patrik said. None of this made sense.
Duncan nodded. “Aye.”
Hope ignited within Patrik. Was the return of his stone a sign he would reclaim his family?
“You should also know,” Alexander hesitated, “when each of us met the woman who eventually became our wife, each one left Lochshire Castle, taking with her the respective half of our halved gemstones.”
This was becoming more confusing. “Are you telling me Cristina took my stone?”
“Nae,” Alexander replied. “The lass recognized your stone within the bowl, but not the other.” He gestured to Griffin. “One that belongs to him.”
“Griffin?” Patrik glanced toward the baron. “I never knew he was gifted with a halved gemstone.”
Seathan shook his head. “Nor did any of us. Now, tell us everything about the lass that concerns you.”
“ ’Tis not so much concern as surprise.” Patrik recounted her killing of the knight during their confrontation on the path, then about finding the English bodies after Cristina had taken Joneta to safety; her quick actions had protected both her and the child.
“Her killing one knight might be feasible,” Griffin said, “but to take on two?”
Patrik nodded, pride for her filling his heart. “The first man she felled with her dagger, the second she used the other knight’s sword. But then, a woman protecting a child is one to be wary of.” An image flickered in his mind. He frowned.
“What is it?” Seathan asked.
He wanted to dismiss the thought, but his brother had asked, and he had nothing to hide. “While we stayed overnight within the crofter’s hut, when she believed me asleep, I caught her searching through my garb.”
“What?” the men in the room said in unison.
Alexander’s face tightened. “Was she searching for the writ?”
“Nae,” he said, irritated they’d believe the worst, and that he had, too. “When I asked, she claimed she was looking for a tie to bind her hair, one she found a moment later.”
“And you believed her?” Seathan asked.
“Aye, ’twas my own fear for the writ that invited doubts.” Doubts he no longer held for the woman he loved. Saint’s breath, how could he have failed to recognize his feelings before? Because, for too long he hadn’t considered love possible for him.
Alexander grunted. “Believe what you will, but I know what I saw. Had I not spoken, the lass would have slipped from the wagon. I say she cannot be trusted.”
Irritation slid through Patrik. “’Tis your anger that a slip of a woman jumped you.”
“Mayhap,” Griffin agreed, “but Mistress Cristina has seen the writ, the English seal upon it.”
Seathan nodded. “Before she is allowed to go free, we must know her loyalties.”
Unease crept through Patrik that his brothers could not see the sincere, loving woman he’d come to know. “She would not betray us.”
“Can you swear that upon your life?” Alexander demanded. “Those of your fellow Scots?”
“Patrik,” Seathan said. “Let not your feelings for the lass blind you to the risks.”
A muscle worked in Patrik’s jaw. “They do not.”
“Aye, they do,” Seathan replied. “If you love someone, regardless of what you wish, the heart interferes.”
Patrik wanted to argue, but found wisdom in his brother’s words. “So, what do we do?”
“Allow her to find the writ,” Seathan replied, “and see if indeed she takes it.”
Nausea swept Patrik. “Set her up?”
“The stakes are too high to take any risks,” Griffin stated, somber.
“I will post extra guards at the castle exits in the event she takes it,” Seathan said, “to ensure she does not escape.”
“And if she does?” Patrik asked, hating the question.
“Without a horse she will be easy to track down,” Seathan replied. “Regardless of your belief about the lass, we must know.”