Tyler, Lynn - For Her Honor [For Her] (Siren Publishing Classic) (30 page)

“’Tis probably not the best time, Robbie, but there is something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you years ago,” he said, clearing his throat again and glancing behind them at the sleeping men. “The man Eileen gave her virginity to was me. It was before you were married, and I did not know she was betrothed to you, I swear it. If I had known, I never would have bedded her, believe me.”

Robbie’s mouth dropped open. This was what his best friend had to tell him? It was not what he was expecting at all. He managed to close his mouth as Colin continued. “She thought I was in love with her. When she told me she was betrothed to you, I was shocked.

“Then she told me you had mistreated her. I knew you would never do such a thing. Besides, you had been recovering from your injury and could hardly stand on your feet, let alone raise a hand to her.

“She came to me the day before your wedding ceremony and pleaded with me to run away with her. When I refused, she threatened to kill herself. I did not think she would do it, Robbie, I swear. The next day, we found her hanging.”

Colin hung his head and took a deep breath. “I wanted to tell you, Robbie, but you were so…you withdrew into yourself, and I did not know how to reach you. I am truly sorry, my friend. If I had just left the lass alone, you would be married to Eileen now and none of this would be happening. If you want to hit me, go ahead. Beat me to a pulp. I deserve it.”

Robbie took a deep breath. Logically, he knew he should be angry, furious even. But somehow, he couldn’t manage to dredge up the energy. Eileen’s death had been a tragedy, of course, but her death was in no way Colin’s fault. “It was not your fault,” he mumbled, thinking that if Eileen were still alive, her brother would have married Jocelyn and may not have been so hell-bent on revenge and his sweet Jocelyn would still be safe.

However, if things had worked out differently, he would have been trapped in a loveless, miserable marriage, and he never would have met Jocelyn. “It is done now, and we must look to the future. But, I warn you,” he growled, “if you try anything with Jocelyn, you will not survive the night.”

Colin’s face relaxed into a grateful smile, and he offered Robbie his arm. “You have no need to worry about that, my friend. I would never do anything to hurt you on purpose. Besides, Jocelyn would never have me. She is far too smitten with you.”

Robbie shook his friend’s arm and pressed his lips together. “She is smitten with me?”

“How could you not see how utterly in love with you she is? She glows every time you walk into the room,” Colin replied. He gripped Robbie’s shoulder encouragingly. “We will find her.”

Robbie nodded and stared off into the night, his best friend at his side. They had to find her whole and well. He would not survive if anything happened to his Jocelyn.

He had other things to think about, though. If Henry was actually as mad as he was acting, he could very well get killed in this rescue effort. “Jamie,” he called quietly.

His brother settled next to him, looking at him expectantly. “I have no heirs,” he started, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat.

Jamie slapped him on the back. “Yet,” he said with a grimace Robbie supposed was an attempt at a smile.

Robbie cleared his throat and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Aye,” he said with more hope than he felt. “However, should I not make it back alive, Will should become laird. And Jamie, please take care of Jocelyn. Treat her like you would a sister.”

Jamie nodded solemnly. “You do not need to worry over anything, Robbie. We already love Jocelyn as if she were our sister. Should the child she carries be a lad, Will will step down as laird as soon as he is old enough to take over.”

Robbie squeezed Jamie’s shoulder in gratitude. There was only one thing left to talk about. “I will not leave alive until we get her. And I will come home either behind my shield or on it.”

Jamie’s eyes filled with grief, but he seemed to understand. Robbie could not live without his wife and he would die in battle if she was not still alive. “I promise, Robbie. Should it come to that, we will bear you home on your shield.”

Robbie relaxed slightly. Things were all in place should the worst happen. His brothers would care for Jocelyn. His child would be cared for. And he would have honor in his death. It left him free to concentrate on the only thing that meant anything to him now.

Finding his Jocelyn and setting her free.

* * * *

Jocelyn jolted awake, amazed she had slept in the warrior’s arms. “Be easy, my lady,” Ian whispered when he felt her tense. “We are nearing the keep.”

Jocelyn nodded and cocked her head to look at the sky. It was a deep, inky black, and stars twinkled merrily in the sky. The cool air blew over her face, and she was surprised to find herself wrapped securely in a plaid. She could easily imagine lying out on the soft grass at the waterfall under the stars with naught but her husband’s huge nude body to warm her.

Her eyes filled with tears at the thought she might never see her husband again. Might never again see his brown eyes darken with desire or dance with laughter. Might never feel his arms holding her close again.

She sniffled and bent her head, hiding her distress from the Campbell laird. If there was ever a time to be strong, this was it. She had never felt so hopeless in her life.

She lifted her head once more to see gates pass by, and she found herself in the bailey of a huge keep. This one was more beautiful than the MacGillivray keep, built of silver-speckled stone with turrets and towers. However, there was no sign of arrow slits or guard towers. This would not be an easy keep to defend.

They stopped at the stables, and she stayed where she was as Ian dismounted and lifted her off his horse. “I will not hurt you, my lady,” he promised as he carried her up the stairs.

Henry and Elizabeth were arguing in the great hall, shouting over whether to toss her in the dungeons or keep her in one of the smaller tower rooms.

“The dungeons, I say!” Henry hollered, his face going red with his anger.

“The tower!” Elizabeth shrieked back. “Should Alasdair MacKenna ever find out we kept his daughter in the dungeon, he will tell his laird and there will be hell to pay.”

Finally it was decided she was to be locked in one of the tower rooms. Jocelyn nearly screamed with frustration. She was still thin, so slipping through bars on a dungeon window was not an impossibility. They were made for large men, after all, not short, slim women.

A tower room was another problem altogether. There was no way she could jump from that height and not be injured. How would she get away with a broken leg?

Ian carried her up the long, winding staircase and into a small room. It was sparse, with no coverings on the windows to keep out the chill. But at least it had a bed, with no linens or furs however, and a chamber pot, which she was desperate to use.

Ian placed her on the bed and glanced around the room. “Keep the plaid,” he said when she made to remove it. “It will get cold soon, and you will need something to warm you.”

She nodded her thanks and regarded him silently. “Why are you being so kind to me?” she asked finally.

Ian tucked her into the bed almost tenderly. “My grandmother was a MacKenna,” he said quietly. “You probably do not remember me, but we met when you were just a wee bairn.” He smiled as if something amusing had come to mind. “You were always such an opinionated lass. But you were kind and smart, and had I been old enough, I would have asked for a marriage contract.”

“If you feel any affection for me still, you will help me get back to my husband,” she pleaded.

Tears gathered in her eyes. She had never before had to beg for something, and the action did not sit well with her now, but it was the only way she could think of to get back to Robbie. And for Robbie, she would put aside her pride and do almost anything.

Ian brushed her hair tenderly out of her eyes and smiled gently at her. “Aye, lass,” he said as if he was addressing his younger sister. “As soon as you see the midwife, I will begin thinking of ways to get you out of here.”

A knock sounded on the door, and Ian stood quickly, pulling his hand away from her hair just as a midwife entered followed by Elizabeth. The midwife ignored the warrior and bustled over to Jocelyn, cupping her chin and looking worriedly into her eyes. “I am Mary, the midwife,” she said quietly. She pressed her hands over Jocelyn’s womb and frowned at her gasp of pain. “How far along were you, my lady?”

“I had missed three bleedings,” Jocelyn answered through gritted teeth. The pain was causing every muscle in her body to cramp, and she struggled to avoid curling up in a ball. She heard the door close and glanced around the room to find Ian gone.

“The pregnancy was still fragile then,” the midwife murmured. She frowned again at the sight of the blood on her skirts.

“I fear I have lost the child,” Jocelyn managed to choke out, grief nearly overwhelming her.

The midwife sighed and pressed her hand down on Jocelyn’s stomach once more. “You are right,” she said sadly. “No babe could survive this much damage.” She smoothed down Jocelyn’s skirts and reached into her basket. “Here, my lady. Drink this. It will help slow down the bleeding and help you to heal.”

She was so depressed, so out of hope, that she considered not drinking the midwife’s potion. But then she thought about Robbie. He would no doubt be trying to rescue her at this very second. She had to at least fight to stay alive for him.

Taking the cup in her hand, she stared down at it. Steeling herself for the course ahead, Jocelyn gulped down the vile potion and gagged as it ran thickly down her throat. She would not leave Robbie widowed twice over if she could help it. “Will I be able to get with child again?” she whispered, fear making it impossible for her to speak normally. What would she do if Mary said no? Of what value would she be to Robbie if she couldn’t bear him children?

“I do not know for certain, my lady. It will be hard to tell until the swelling goes down.” She grimaced sympathetically as another contraction gripped Jocelyn. “You will need rags to stop the bleeding,” she said. The midwife wandered over to the window and looked down. “Lots and lots of rags.” She threw a meaningful look over her shoulder at Jocelyn.

Catching her meaning, Jocelyn got up and joined her at the window. She gulped when she saw just how high up they really were. If the midwife meant for her to leave via the window, using the rags as a makeshift rope, she was mad. “Nay,” she answered. “I will not need that many rags.”

The midwife nodded her understanding before leaning close. “Know, my lady, that we do not all think the same as our laird. A large majority of our clan do not want to get involved in a blood feud with either the MacGillivrays or the MacKennas. We only want to live in peace.”

Jocelyn nodded wearily and headed to the bed. She needed a good night’s sleep if she was going to get herself out of this fix. She belated realized that Elizabeth was still in the room, standing in the corner. She could understand Henry’s motivations for kidnapping her. The man had always been slightly mad and had a sick sense of pride. Losing her to another had to have been tough but losing her to the same man who had married his now dead sister must have driven him to distraction. What she couldn’t understand was Elizabeth’s role in this whole mess. “Why, Elizabeth? What have I done to you?” she croaked.

Elizabeth fussed with her skirt, smoothing her hands down the material repeatedly. “When your father refused Laird Campbell’s marriage contract, he became obsessed with the idea that his reputation had been tarnished. He had the thought that if he could only get back at Laird MacGillivray, he would be redeemed somehow. As soon as he could, he sent me to the MacGillivray keep as a maid to keep him informed about the goings on.”

Jocelyn was still confused but at least she now knew who had been slipping information to the raiders. “Why did you not just tell us? We would have taken you in.”

The woman’s eyes flashed and she sneered. “And be a maid for the rest of my life? No. Henry has promised to marry me if I helped him. I will be mistress here in just a few days.”

Jocelyn could practically see the ambition sparkling in the woman’s eyes and her heart went out to her. Elizabeth really had no idea what Henry really was. “He is mad, Elizabeth. I was a healer for my laird when I lived with my father. The women used to come to me after being in Henry’s bed. He is rough, sometimes sadistic with them.”

A sad little smile spread across Elizabeth’s face. “That was why I was propositioning Will so aggressively. This is my fate. Perhaps I can redirect his more…forceful attentions to the lassies on staff here. But you have always been very kind to me. I will not tell Henry of your plan to escape.”

There was no use talking sense into this woman. She was as unbalanced as her betrothed. Jocelyn sighed and laid down on the bed, turning her back on Elizabeth until she heard the door close quietly. She willed her muscles to relax and fell into a fitful sleep.

She had not been sleeping long when a small sound in the corner of her room woke her with a start. Faint streaks of light shining in through the window heralded dawn’s arrival. Ian stood quietly, a plaid at the ready. “My lady,” he whispered. “We must go.”

He lifted her to her feet and wrapped her in the plaid. A quick glance out the window assured her there was not a soul stirring. It was too early even for the roosters to crow.