To Wed A Highlander (23 page)

Lela had been waiting for weeks for today’s opportunity. When Makenna was working in the keep, it was impossible to sneak into the tower. There was too much activity, and Her Ladyship had a habit of meeting with servants in her room. Nights were not an option, since the blasted lady encouraged several of the women to sleep in her old chambers, stating it was warmer and much more comfortable than the small beds in the Pinnacle Tower.

So Lela had waited until Makenna’s scheduled day of rest, knowing she would leave the castle walls. Lela first attempted her search several weeks ago, but Makenna had inexplicably stayed within the castle walls to help. The second time, the clumsy cook burned himself. Today, Makenna had indeed left as planned, but returned early. Lela had barely enough time to hide in the nook just beyond the door before the despicable Highlander marched up the stairs carrying his traitorous bride.

In fear of being imminently caught, Lela hid in the shadows. Hearing the two bicker, Lela felt her dread slowly transform into excitement. Leon would be pleased to hear of what she had learned.

Exiting the tower, Lela headed straight toward the gatehouse and into the village. The timing was perfect. Many of the villagers were breaking and relaxing around the Commune Tree for a few moments before they resumed their work.

“Mona! Bidelia! Gillian! Come listen to what I have just learned. You, too, Angus. Bring David and Keith with you.”

Lela waited until a small crowd had gathered around her. “I have just come from Forfar where I overheard the laird and his wife arguing quite loudly.”

Gillian, a short, rotund woman with very curly gray hair and thick eyebrows, shrugged her shoulders dismissively. “
That
is your news, Lela? Husbands and wives fight all the time.”

Another woman elbowed Gillian and answered, “How would she know? Her husband was too afraid and too weak to stand up to her!”

Lela clenched her jaw. This was not going as planned at all. “
My
husband never had to explain that I might be pregnant. And
my
husband never slept in another bedroom because he was too afraid to bed me!”

“Wherever you are getting your stories, you best look again. I doubt the laird’s slept one night away from his wife since he’s been home. Common knowledge,” one of the men replied, turning to walk away.

“Not his current wife, I’m talking about Lady Deirdre! Did you ever wonder why his first wife never became with child?”

“As it is not my business, no, I didn’t. And truth be telling, I don’t care now either. It does make me wonder why you do,” came a muffled reply from a gentleman enjoying a piece of bread.

“Well, you should, David, and you will. Even now the laird speaks of reducing her workload and enabling her lazy ways. Not once did he mention or praise the support of the people tending his manor, just on ways of burdening you and your sons and daughters more.”

“Why do you care?” one of the more respected men asked. “The way my middle daughter tells it, Lady Makenna works more than her share, and most of the women would like her to unload some of her burden onto them. My youngest daughter is even considering helping out a few days a week. I have encouraged her to do so.”

Lela’s jaw slacked. “Did you say
encouraged?
Have you forgotten that McTiernay is a
Highlander?
He is not one of us! He has no right to lead the Dunstan clan. Lady Makenna forfeited her right to be one of us the day she married that man.”

A middle-aged woman of medium height with shoulder-length brown hair and dark blue eyes stepped forward. “I once thought as you, Lela. I did not like the idea of an outsider in our midst, and certainly not as our leader. I resented Lady Makenna for making it possible for the Highlander to become our laird. My husband and I both made our feelings well known.” She paused to stand back and get the attention of the crowd. “But my opinion changed the day that my son, Rory, injured himself in the fields. The laird personally carried him home and stopped by every day to see if he was getting better. He even had one of his men help work the fields until Rory recovered.”

Gillian walked over and placed a hand on Lela’s arm. Lela shook it off. “You have let yourself become blind to the truth, Lela. Your petty jealousies have always been unbecoming, but stop whatever vengeance you seek. It will do you no good.”

Lela glowered at the friendly-looking woman.
Never will I stop,
she vowed to herself.
And neither will Leon. But he’d better act soon, if he wants the clan to support his attack.

Moving to leave, Lela took a last look around for the faces who still advocated removing the Highlander. Most were not there. She smiled in satisfaction. They were completing the wall, just as MacCuaig had asked.

“Ready?” Colin asked Dunlop, who had just entered the stables. It was dark outside. The sun was not due to rise for at least two more hours. Besides the night guardsmen, everyone was asleep.

Dunlop nodded, wary of Colin’s strange mood the past week. For the last three nights, Colin had slept with the men in the training fields, something he had not done since he married. Only once did the men inquire as to their laird’s behavior. Dunlop swiftly ended speculations that something was wrong.

But something was wrong.

Colin was pensive and uneasy. Anger would be much easier to dismiss or even understand. Never, since Dunlop had known the Highlander, had Colin acted this way. It was very odd and very disturbing.

Colin ignored his black, grabbed the stable torch, and left on foot for the outer gate. Dunlop followed. They moved quietly until Colin reached the portion of the town wall that was recently completed. The wall, just like his marriage, seemed to be solid and good. In reality, it was not.

Makenna was not happy. She was unusually quiet and aggravatingly agreeable. Her smiles never filled her face. Bold green eyes, once luminescent and vibrant, had lost their mischievous twinkle. Her newly submissive nature was driving him mad.

He hated it, and he wanted it to stop.

Never did he realize how much Makenna’s spirit made everyone, including him, come alive. He needed her passion and fire; he depended upon it. And he was at a loss as to why it was gone.

Thinking her to be angry over some unknown slight, he had tried to be more loving and attentive. It only seemed to make her even more distant and withdrawn. Even their lovemaking was affected. He became aroused by her slightest movement but was reluctant to touch her. The spark, the passion, the wild honesty had suddenly disappeared. Without it, their coupling felt hollow, reminding him that he once had something fragile and precious, and now it was gone.

The loss only doubled when he learned Makenna was not pregnant. But the fact did not explain why she had been withdrawn before her monthly flux had come.

Desperate, he had asked her directly if she was angry with him. Did she want to ride, desire to train, need more help, or wish he would remain at Lochlen more? Each time her answer was no.

He was losing her, and it was killing him inside.

Colin moved to the wall and pointed to a place where the rocks were joined. He pushed on it, and the pieces moved very easily. Then he went to where the wall had been completed just two months ago. Dunlop pushed on it. It was solid.

Silently, they continued to examine the wall, identifying exactly where it was weak and where it was secure. Only two feeble sections were found, both located in areas the wall remained dark, even when the sun was high. The largest, once broken, would let between six and eight men in simultaneously. The second weak spot was farther down, but much smaller. It would allow a single man to sneak into the castle while all the attention was on the swarm of attackers coming through the larger break.

Colin had first spied the sabotage upon his return from the raids. A few days later, the wall was once again being built correctly. Then a month ago, the builders started again to build and conceal weak spots, but on a much greater scale. Once more, Colin chose not to mention or correct the faulty work.

Together the two sections could be a lethal combination without being a fully destructive one. Whoever was orchestrating this treachery obviously needed to break through the wall, but did not desire having to rebuild large parts of it once in control.

Colin estimated the time till the wall’s completion was approximately a month. Timing would be critical if he were going to unite this clan under his lead. If his estimations were off, there was a chance he could be driven from the Borders and back to the Highlands.

Oddly, the idea did not appeal to him. In the past, the vast mountains that jutted into the sea beckoned him to return. The Highlands were the place of his birth, his heritage, but the day he kissed Makenna, Lochlen had suddenly become home.

Retreating into the inner ward, Colin and Dunlop met in the shadows near the chapel tower. Colin verified no one was close enough to see or overhear them.

“Do you know who is behind this?” Dunlop whispered.

“Aye, but I cannot prove such an allegation.”

“Do you wish for the wall to be dismantled and rebuilt, this time by your own men?”

“I’d rather not announce what we know just yet. I am confident the rest of the wall is and will be quite solid. I doubt MacCuaig wants to spend any more than he has to once he takes over.”

“You suspect MacCuaig, then?”

“I have no evidence, but I also have no doubts it is him,” Colin replied evenly. “Starting tomorrow night, I want two guards posted between the two areas of entry, and two more at the end where there is still construction.”

“Aye, Laird. Would you have them inside or outside the town wall?”

“Inside. We will not openly reveal our knowledge of the traitors, but it should make the clan as a whole quite nervous.”

“You suspect the whole clan?” Dunlop asked, appalled.

“Nay, only a handful of people are actively behind this plot, but there are many more who know of it.”

Dunlop was about to ask another question, when Colin shook his head indicating his unwillingness to explain. “I want the guards posted from sundown to sunup.”

Dunlop looked quizzical for a moment, balancing his desire to know more and his duty to obey. Choosing, he replied, “It will be done as you ask.”

Both departed, going separate ways, avoiding the moonlight. Colin headed toward Canmore, hoping Makenna would still be sleeping in the solar. She was.

Askew in their bed, she had kicked off most of the covers and was lying on her side. The diaphanous linen chemise Makenna was wearing clung to her gentle curves featured in the golden hue of the firelight. She was slim and delicate, and her fiery red hair was fanned out on the white pillow, giving Colin a view of her soft, vulnerable nape.

He could feel himself becoming aroused by the sheer sight. Stripping off his sword, belt, and leine, he got into bed, pulling his plaid over them both.

Instinctively Makenna snuggled up to him, wiggling her backside against him to get more comfortable. The pain of her touch was excruciating, but worth it to feel her again in his arms.

So much of him wanted to kiss her awake and make love to her, but even more, he wanted the feeling that things were as before.

He fell asleep vowing to be gone before she awoke.

Shouts from outside woke Makenna. The room was dark with only hazy shadows dancing on the walls from the dying embers. She knew Colin must have also heard the noise, but neither moved. Colin was on his back and Makenna’s head lay comfortably on his chest. Her legs were intertwined with his. She did not want to give this up.

Colin had been visiting her every night for almost two weeks after she had retired and pretended to fall asleep. He would lie holding on to her and leave her side in the morning just before the sun rose.

Makenna squeezed her eyes tight. If the noise continued, Colin would be forced to rise, and when he did, she could no longer pretend she was unaware that he came to her when she slept.

The noise was getting louder. Fear enveloped Makenna. These precious nights where he just held her were all that was keeping her sane. Without them, she would break down in tears and never be able to stop. At any moment, Colin would leave and this time, he wouldn’t come back.

Colin lay awake, torn between his need for Makenna and rising to end the commotion. The time was late, but it was not yet morning. He guessed it to be two or three hours before sunrise—much too early for all the activity he was hearing.

A loud pounding came from the door. Colin grimaced. The choice between Makenna and duty was no longer his to make. Carefully, he slipped off the bed and rose to see who killed the last semblance of his dream life.

Colin opened the door to a young soldier covered in blood. Behind him, he heard Makenna exclaim, “Good Lord!” before she rushed to his side to help the man.

“Colin, carry him in! Where are you hurt?” Makenna asked, searching his body for the wound that caused such loss of blood.

“I am unhurt, milady. It’s Sean. Dunlop has him in the lower hall. He sent me to fetch you, Laird.” The man’s voice was shaking severely as he spoke.

Colin nodded and moved to get dressed when he heard Makenna order the soldier to enter as she was throwing on her own wrap. “Come in here and sit by the fire. Colin and I will take care of Sean. I will have someone bring you some drink.”

Makenna followed Colin out the door. He hesitated. “Sean had to have lost a lot of blood to cover him like that. You should stay here,” he suggested more than commanded.

Makenna shook her head. “The midwife has gone north to help deliver a baby, and even then, I am better skilled with sword and axe wounds. Let me tend to Sean. You find out who did this, why, and how it happened.”

Colin waved for her to proceed down the tower stairs and followed her into the cold night air. When they reached the lower hall, several people had already congregated. Two more men were covered in blood, and a third was on the table.

Makenna moved quickly to the man’s side. Dunlop looked up, surprised that Colin allowed Makenna to be there.

“Tell me exactly what you know of his wounds,” she directed, her voice calm but full of command.

Dunlop instinctively responded, “There’s a good gash on his left upper arm and one somewhere on his face. But he was severely stabbed here.”

Makenna followed Dunlop’s finger to Sean’s right side. Someone had already fetched water and some cloths and laid them at the end of the table. Picking one up, she put it on the side wound and instructed Dunlop to hold it in place.

Then she dipped a second cloth into the water and began cleaning the young man’s face. The soldier resisted. She moved closer, and as if she were comforting a small child, she crooned, “Sean, I need to get a better look at these wounds. I know you are in pain, but you are going to be just fine. I have worked on many knife wounds, and I know just what to do. Do you trust me?”

Sean nodded his head.

Makenna ordered someone to fetch Camus and bring his stitching bag.

Makenna quickly wiped Sean’s face and located the arc-shaped gash on the side of his forehead. As she suspected, a lot of the blood was coming from that. Next, she stole a brief glance at his arm, confirming Dunlop’s description. It was quite deep and would need to be tended, but not until after she addressed his side wound.

Carefully, Makenna took the cloth from Dunlop and inspected the serious injury. Camus arrived and placed a large bag on the table. “What do you need first?” he asked.

Makenna kept her attention on the deep gash. “I’m going to need a compress made of ground ivy for his arm and head. I’ll need a needle, thread, and a candle to stitch his side.”

Camus began digging in his bag, removing the items. “What else?”

Makenna turned, swiftly looked around, and plucked the dagger sheathed in Colin’s belt. Colin saw her intentions and moved to help. Carefully, they cut away most of Sean’s clothing, trying not to cause him any more pain. By the time they were done, Camus had threaded the needle and was burning the tip in the candle’s flame.

Makenna took the needle and pierced the skin. She heaved a sigh of relief when Sean passed out from the pain. Realizing the soldier was no longer conscious, Colin gathered the men in the room into a huddle.

Quickly Mackenna made small stitches along the long gash and gave Camus further instructions. “When I’m done here, I’ll want to keep a poultice of marigold and John’s Wort over the incision. And include henbane, if you have any more. I’ll need one of your men, Colin, to bring in a bed and a more comfortable chair. It will be easier to take care of him here. Once he’s on the bed, Sean should not be moved again. I don’t want anything reopening that wound. Hopefully the poultice will keep down the pain and bleeding.” Out of her peripheral vision, Makenna saw heads nod as people began to execute her instructions.

“Will he be all right?”

The question came from one of the soldiers who had obviously carried his friend in by the amount of blood on him.

Makenna made the last stitch and tied it off. She stood up and looked the young man in the eye. “The wound is deep, and Sean is very weak. But he was strong and healthy prior to this. If we can avoid fever, he should make it.”

Colin ordered the man to help the others with the bed. Then he pulled her aside. For the moment, with the exception of Camus and Dunlop, who remained with Sean, they were alone.

“Tell me the truth. How does he fare?”

Makenna sighed and looked at the unconscious body. “I spoke in earnest before, though I might have given more hope than I should have concerning the fever. When it comes, I’ll give him a hot broth mixed with elder, yarrow, and peppermint.” She paused and looked up at Colin.

“How did it happen?” she asked, positive Colin had discovered how and why Sean had been injured.

“I assigned a few men to watch over the wall until it was complete for security. Bored, they began sparring. Sean heard a noise, was distracted, and did not deflect the dagger coming at him in the dark.”

Colin hated the dishonesty, but after what he just heard, he had no choice. Four men had tried to sneak through the incomplete portion of the wall. Sean was the first to attack, killing the initial invader. The other guards joined and the battle quickly ended. One attacker, in his last gurgles of breath, had laughed and let them know that MacCuaig was coming and he was after Makenna.

Makenna knew Colin was lying. She had witnessed Colin fighting to control his fury when speaking with his men. All three of the undamaged soldiers still had their daggers with them, and all the blades had been bloody. None of the men apologized either; something she would have expected if Sean’s wound had been caused by a friend. No, whoever did this was an enemy, but whose enemy—Colin’s or the clan’s?