Every Heart Has Its Day (10 page)

Though shapely, the woman’s legs were short. Gavin expected no difficulty reaching both her ankle and knee.

First he found four thin, but sturdy, branches, just shorter than her lower legs, then unrolled his spare plaid and snatched his trews and tunics. He returned to her side, took a deep breath, and pulled.

Her scream nearly hurled him across the copse.

Gavin covered her mouth with his hand. “I be sorry. I thought ye asleep, else I would have warned ye.”

She bit him.

He jerked back his hand and gritted his teeth to stifle his own yelp. He leaned down, intending to whisper soothing words in her ear.

She slapped him.

“I wish to help ye.” He pinned her hands to her side. “I ken it hurts, but if ye ever wish to walk agin, ye must endure.”

Her breathing slowed.

“If ye wish to bite on aught other than my hand whilst I tend the other leg, just nod.” He waited for a response, but received none. “Be ye sure? I know not if any of yer clansmen be close by.”

She shook her head.

He did not understand if she meant they were alone or that she did not want something to smother her scream. “If the Camerons find us, I shall defend ye with my life, but I prefer to set yer legs and move to a safer place.”

He crawled to her other side. “Be ye ready?” Gavin waited for her nod.

Evonne took a deep breath. Lightning struck her leg and burst before her eyes. Her hands flew to her mouth to muffle her cry.

He wiped away her tears.

“The worst be done. Bracing will hurt, but I shall be gentle. I need ye to tell me if I tie the binds too tightly.”

That voice. The intense pain that thundered in her ears and fogged her brain subsided enough for her to remember another much like it. Could it be? She tried to pry open her swollen eyes. After she failed, she struggled to get her lips to cooperate. She wanted to ask but one question: Gavin?

She could not staunch her tears as her thoughts turned to that summer at Inverness. She and Kasey had had a grand time, until her lady’s downfall. She had not known peace since.

Only one hope had seen her through the tangle life had become. Gavin Mackintosh. Evonne had never seen a more stunning man. Appearances aside, her attraction centered on his words. He had wrapped her heart in velvet. She often imagined his timbre lulling her to sleep every night for the rest of her life.

She called herself a fool a hundred times over. Gavin deserved better than the likes of her. Since her return from Inverness, she had changed. She no longer had the gift that every husband deserved on his wedding night. Laird Cameron had taken it as payment to remain in the keep and countless times since.

“I beg ye, lass. No more tears.”

She shook her head.

He placed her hands on his shoulders. “Hold on tight.”

Her body floated from the ground. She winced when he pulled her side against his chest, but his warmth soon soothed her pain.

He moved like the wind with smooth, determined strides. He issued a soft, short whistle. She tensed at a nearby nicker and shook her head.

“Ye have little choice, lass. Ye canna walk.”

She pinched him.

“Be ye worried about seating my mount?”

She nodded.

“I canna carry ye all the way to the MacDonnell’s.”

She pulled his hair and frowned.

“The distance concerns me, lass, not the load. Ye weigh as much as a snowflake.”

She let go of his locks.

“I would offer to hold ye in my lap…”

Her head hit his chin as she nodded. She suppressed screams of agony as he placed her onto the saddle. He steadied her back until he straddled the horse behind her. Her stomach pitched when he lifted her across his lap. After he nudged the horse into a canter, each hoofbeat thrust her further into darkness. If Gavin had come for her sooner, they may have had a future.

****

Kasey had spent a fortnight praying. For her friend. For her mother. For answers. Why did she have to suffer so many losses, so much pain? Did the good deeds she had done throughout her years earn her naught?

She desperately wanted to believe, as Evonne had so often said, that every heart would have its day. But her friend had died too soon to have hers.

While she walked from the potter’s hut to the keep, arguments erupted at every misspoken word. A scarcity of cottages left many sleeping outdoors. People hastened by, their shoulders slumped and heads hung low. Need met her every step.

When would they have their day?

As soon as she stopped feeling sorry for herself. Somehow, someday she vowed to make life better for everyone.

Hoots and jeers broke into her thoughts. She glared in their direction. The new lad had dropped his sword, and the look on Randall’s face hinted what punishment that sin would meet.

She stayed to the shadows until Randall dragged the lad past, and then followed the crowd into the great hall.

“Milord?” Randall called.

Laird Cameron peered over the brim of his goblet and raised a brow. “Randall?”

“Never afore have I seen a lad as hopeless as this one.” He lifted the boy by the scruff of his tunic. “We have no duty to him.”

“I gave ye more than a king’s ransom in gold.”

Kasey thought the boy brave, but foolish to speak.

“Fealty canna be bought, and ye have yet to pledge yer oath to the Cameron.” Randall turned to the laird. “I see no hope for him, milord. I think we best rid ourselves of this rabble.”

“Bother me not with trivial matters, Randall.” Douglas took a swig from his goblet. “Do with him what ye will.”

Kasey counted the cracks as she edged her way to the kitchen doorway. Only three lashes? Randall must be in a merciful mood. She peered at the lad’s face. He seemed familiar, yet she could not have met him before.

By the time she completed her chores and tended the mare, snores filled the keep. She mustered her courage and walked to the shabby shelter that housed the clan’s warriors-in-training.

The ill-mannered lads greeted her with barbs and leers. One rose from his pallet to block her path. She stepped around him. He grabbed her arm and asked if she needed someone to warm her bed. She spat on him. He raised his hand to strike her.

The lad she had come to see caught the oaf’s hand and spun him around. He punched the lout and let his body fall to the floor. He glared at the others, “Any who touch her will face the same or worse.” He gripped her elbow and escorted her outside.

“I thought ye brave when ye soundlessly withstood the beating, but now I think ye mad.” Kasey said. “These lads will report ye to Randall to gain his favor.”

“Lady Kasey, I presume?”

“Have we met?”

He shook his head. “Why have ye come here? Ye must have known the reception ye would receive.”

“I brought aught to ease the sting in yer back. Lift yer tunic so I may apply the ointment. Be quick aboot it. I wish not to be found out, for my laird forbids healing.”

“My courage pales compared to yers.”

Kasey shrugged. “My clan can do naught more than they have done before, save kill me. But they will not do so, for no one here has that much compassion.”

“Better times await ye, milady.”

She raised a brow at the lad’s confidence. It seemed as though he knew aught she did not, but she had no time to question him. “Leave yer shirt askew so the others think ye and I, well, ye ken what they will think.”

“Have ye no care for yer reputation?”

“Most already believe me a whore.” She turned away. Along the path to the castle a vision struck. Moisture from the cave coated her skin. The smell of earth filled her nostrils. She raised her gaze. The candle’s glow brightened.

Chapter Ten

Gavin forced himself to sit on a fallen tree, out of view of the Cameron sentries. Through torrential downpours and gusting winds, he had done naught else for more than a month. He could no longer bear twiddling his thumbs, but he had no choice. He, alone, could not rush the gate and rescue his brother. And if he left to retrieve his clansmen, he could miss Dillon’s message.

A message that might never come.

If someone had discovered Dillon’s identity, he could now be sitting in a dungeon. Or worse. Gavin would personally send any man who harmed his brother to Hell.

Applause and laughter rang out. He moved a few branches and peered through the bush that hid his presence.

Men and lads squatted by a hole in the wall and pointed toward him.

Mayhap the foliage did not hide him as well as he believed. Or his brother’s tongue slipped and revealed his presence. Nay. Dillon would not make such a grievous mistake. Aught else must have turned the Camerons’ attention.

Someone shouted and the crowd dispersed. Stocky legs followed by stumbling, spindly limbs passed by the opening. He kept watch over his shoulder as he searched the area.

He picked up an arrow embedded in a clump of wildflowers. Large feathers helped it fly farther. He poked a twig into the gouged end, which pushed farther inside. He snapped the shaft. A sheaf extended from the hollow. His fingers trembled as he read the Dillon’s message: Get Connor.

He resisted the urge to fall to his knees and hastened back to camp. He hated to abandon his brother in a den of wolves, but Dillon’s terse message left much to the imagination.

Gavin mounted his stallion and reined him toward the landowner’s keep. He prayed the injured woman would be healed enough to endure a hasty journey.

The sun sat high in the sky by the time Gavin reached the manor house. “Laird MacDonnell, how fares the woman?”

“Her body heals well, but her spirit concerns me.”

“She will continue her recuperation with the Mackintosh clan. See her ready for the journey.”

“Watch yer tone, lad. Ye be in my holding.”

“I mean no disrespect, milord, but I canna dally.”

“She would slow yer return. Leave her in my care.”

“I would rather take her with me, milord. She may provide information vital to our cause.”

“Ye may question her over the nooning meal, and ye will be gentle.”

“I canna waste time, laird. If she can seat a horse—”

Laird MacDonnell held up a hand. “Mayhap the lass will not wish to venture to yer holding. After she heals, I shall inform her she may pledge her loyalty to me, or I could arrange her move to the clan Mackintosh.”

Had he more time, Gavin might have been impressed with the MacDonnell’s attitude. Most older Scots believed women unable to decide their own future. “She be my responsibility and will return with me.”

He did not understand why, but the woman mattered to him. Mayhap since he tended her injuries, he felt a duty to see her mending complete. Nay, her hair and her honeysuckle scent reminded him of another.

“I shall summon my priest.”

“Yer priest?”

“She canna join ye on a lengthy journey without the benefit of marriage.”

“Do ye think me some kind of beast to accost a woman so recently abused?” Gavin could simply snatch the woman and be on his way, but that would not be wise. The Mackintoshes needed to use this land when they returned. “I assure ye my intentions be honorable.”

“I think only to protect the lass from nature’s course.” Alistair MacDonnell grinned. “Ye have seen her not since the swelling left her face. Her eyes be the color of heather. Her hair be softer than lamb’s wool. And her lips...”

“Ye kissed her?”

“Nay, but if I be ten years younger, I would seek the priest.”

Memories of another woman fitting the laird’s description circled his thoughts. “Her name, if ye please, milord?” After hearing the MacDonnell’s answer, Gavin wanted to beat his head against the nearest wall. “Summon yer priest.”

****

Unwilling to abide visitors, Evonne ignored the tapping on the door. She had wasted a pair of fortnights dwelling on bygone days, and most of her musings centered on Gavin. She had mistreated him at Inverness because she sought to protect herself from his lure. After all, as a member of clan Mackintosh, he presented an impractical hope for marriage.

She wondered if her pain-fogged mind had played a trick. Mayhap Gavin had not rescued her. After all, she could not see him.

She shook her head. She would never forget Gavin’s voice. Though she knew they had no future, she wanted the chance to thank him. Liar. She wanted, needed him to wrap her in his arms and take away her pain. But if Gavin had tended her, he had forsaken her—again.

Her future looked bleak. If given another chance, the Camerons would kill her, and she had no relatives to take her in.

The door creaked open. Two maids, followed by two men carrying a wooden tub and six others toting buckets of steaming water entered.

After the men departed, one of the women said, “We have been ordered to bathe ye, milady.”

“I have oftentimes told ye, I be not a lady.” She swatted the hands reaching for the supports on her legs. “Who has issued this order?”

“Laird MacDonnell.” Gwynne giggled.

Evonne saw no humor in the order. Heretofore, her injuries disallowed her to sit in a tub, but she had healed enough to try. “I shall be certain to thank him.”

The women did not speak as they carefully removed her trappings. They slid their hands under Evonne. She put an arm around their shoulders. Then they carried her to the water and lowered her. Her legs ached, but the water felt too good to leave.

While one washed her body and the other washed her hair, Evonne studied their faces. These two women had often helped her during the past month and always chattered like birds before a storm, but they said naught now. “Have ye no news to share?”

“Mayhap another time.” Elspeth said. They carried her over to a wooden stool by the fire and wrapped her in a robe.

“We shall return to dress ye and see to yer hair.”

“Hold.”

They closed the door before she could say aught else. Mischief mingled in the air, but without her braces, she could do naught but wait for the truth to come to her.

Her door burst open soon after the maids left. She had no desire to expose herself to the boor who barged in, so she tried to fix her wrap. Unfortunately, she sat on one end. When she covered one side of her chest, the other bared.

Calloused fingers nudged up her chin. His familiar scent both soothed and alarmed her. Her heart increased its rhythm as her gaze traveled up his broad chest to his square jaw. Though thinned into a line, his lips looked inviting. Emotions roiled in his gaze.

Gooseflesh covered her arms. “Get out!”

When Gavin knelt, Evonne wished she could kick him. “Be ye deaf?”

“My ears worked fine afore ye shouted.”

She lowered her gaze when Gavin rose. He could at least put forth some argument before he obeyed. Though her head knew this wonderful man deserved better, her heart paid no attention.

He set a chair across from her stool.

Tears of anger mixed with relief slid down her cheeks. “Will ye not leave me be?” she whispered.

“We have much to discuss, Evonne.”

He thumbed away the moisture. “Each day we start life anew. The past matters naught. If ye ever wish to talk of it, I shall listen, but I shall ask ye no questions.”

Gavin’s concern broke the dam. The endless river of tears she withheld for so long flooded her face.

“I apologize if I misspoke.”

She shook her head.

“Ye need to grieve?”

She nodded.

He lifted her into his arms and encouraged her to let her tears cleanse her spirit.

She nestled against his neck until she calmed.

Soon after, the maids entered. Gavin asked them to return later.

“But the priest grows restless.”

Gavin tightened his hold on her hip. “Then I shall now take my leave. We canna keep a man of the cloth waiting.” He grinned and gently placed her onto the stool.

“Why would a priest wait our presence?”

He cleared his throat and strode toward the door. He had closed it halfway before he mumbled, “To bless our union.”

“Hold!” Evonne’s command halted his retreat. She waited for him to reenter the chamber. “Ye canna think yerself so wonderful as to prance in here, make me cry, and then carry me off to wed ye. Handsome as ye be, ye still need to ask me so that I may properly decline.”

He puffed out his chest at her compliment, but his shoulders slumped once she said she would refuse.

“What do ye mean ‘decline’?” He walked over and towered over her. “Ye may not yet realize how much ye love me, but someday soon ye will.”

“I shall?”

“Aye. Even if I have to order ye to do so.”

She gaped. She had forgotten how arrogant he could be.

He knelt and gazed into her eyes. “Ye canna refute an offer not yet made. Mayhap that be why I dinna ask.” He slid his hand to her nape and urged her forward.

The warmth of his lips burgeoned into a blaze. The chunk of ice that had been her heart began to melt.

She tried to pull away, but he held fast and deepened the kiss. His tongue swayed with hers in a dance as old as time. Her arms, of their own accord, wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer.

Moments later he leaned back, but did not release her. He pecked her lips, then nibbled and kissed down the column of her neck, and up to her ear. “We be meant for each other, Evonne. Ye canna douse an eternal flame.”

She would rather die than inflict pain on the only man who would ever hold a place in her heart. “I canna wed ye.”

“Ye have a choice. Give yer consent and allow the maids to prepare ye, or I shall carry ye belowstairs in naught but yer robe.” His voice lowered. “In either case, we shall wed within the hour.”

She had not thought it possible to experience elation and desolation at the same time. Her heart thrilled at the prospect of spending the rest of her life with him, but her head feared his disgust when he discovered her impurity. Though he would never beat her, life would be unbearable if he chose to ignore her. He must know the truth before they spoke their vows.

She took a deep breath. “I have no gift to give ye on our wedding night.” The pain imposed by her confession hurt worse than any she had ever felt.

Gavin shrugged. “Ye had no idea I wished to marry ye now. Why would ye think I expected a gift?” He searched her face as if looking for an answer.

“Ye misunderstand—” Her throat tightened, preventing her from saying the words. Tears threatened, but she blinked them back. They would surely turn to steam if they rolled onto her heated cheeks.

He took a quick breath and straightened. “Ye tell me ye no longer be a virgin?”

Fear crept up her spine. He had never before raised his voice. She dropped her face into her hands and nodded.

“I swore I would ask ye no questions, but I must break that oath just once. Did ye give yerself willingly?”

She raised her head and glared. “I be not a whore. I did what be needed to protect my life and remain close to Lady Kasey.”

He sat and reached out for her.

She swatted his hand.

He smiled and pulled her onto his lap. “I canna claim to know how the Camerons feel about their brides, but Mackintoshes believe that a woman taken by force remains a virgin.”

Now she did not understand.

“The maidenhead be not a virgin’s true asset. The bride’s pure heart matters most. If ye can tell me ye loved none who has bedded ye, then ye still be an innocent to me.”

Evonne burst into tears. “I hated him. He used and abused me.” She sniffed. “I fear I may never respond to yer touch. Ye deserve better.”

“Of all the women I have known, only ye have captured my heart. I shall ask ye but one more time. Will ye be donning a kirtle or wearing yer wrap?”

****

Gavin sat by the window in the great hall. The sinking sun meant the end of another day, the end of his misery.

Granted, his proposal had not gone the way he planned. He hoped to work up to the subject of marriage, to list the reasons why their union made sense, but the servants’ chatter stole his chance to woo her with honeyed words. At least he had the rest of his life to prove his love true.

Assuming she ever came belowstairs.

Scottish law permitted him to marry her with or without her consent or presence. But he needed her to enter the union of her own free will. Good Lord, how he needed her.

He should not have wheedled her consent, but she held his heart. In return he would keep her safe and make her happy. Destiny had reunited them, and he would see they never parted again.