Highland Scandal (27 page)

“Hurry.”

Rowen froze at the Lairdess’s voice. She took Kenny from Bran and mounted a horse. Bran threw her on the other one. She went willingly. Kenny was not heading anywhere without her. Bran mounted behind her.

They galloped from the castle. The world was a blur of browns and blacks. Not that it mattered, she knew where he was heading—the spot where Eacharn had fallen. She clutched the horse’s mane. She knew Lachlan was behind her. This was her chance. She squeezed her eyes shut and swung her head back with all her force. The impact of her head meeting Bran’s thick one dizzied her. She was toppling from the saddle. Nay, the horse was twisting to the side.

She struck the earth, bounced and skidded. Rocks and debris scraped her skin, sending short, sharp pain through her. Dirt filled her mouth. Her breath rushed from her chest. Her vision blackened. She was about to losing all awareness. Then she sucked in air and groaned.

She rolled onto her stomach and climbed to her hands and knees. She almost fell flat on her face. Calling on MacKenzie will, she rose on shaky legs. Bran was still on the ground.

“Get up,” the Lairdess screamed. “I need you.”

Ignoring the twisting ache of her right leg, she limped toward the Lairdess. Rowen made a grab at Kenny. She missed him. Somehow, her hands got hold of the reins. She yanked, jerking the horse’s head down. Rowen clawed at the Lairdess and jerked her from the saddle. Kenny came with her.

“Run Kenny,” she screamed, giving him a push back the way they had come. Kenny screamed as Bran snatched him up and was back on his horse, galloping away. She had a moment to see Caelen chasing after him before a ripping, white pain cut through her head. She was on her knees.

The Lairdess tugged her to her feet. Rowen was taller than she was, but locked in her grasp, she was hunched over. She started to pull back when she felt a cold blade at her side. Rowen locked her hands around the wrist, ready to stop the blade from sliding into her flesh. She heard Kenny screaming and crying. She struggled. The blade cut into her.

The ground pounded from horses galloping by. She thought it might be her heart. She wasn’t sure.

“Stay away from me!” The Lairdess pressed the blade deeper.

Rowen cried out. Her blood was warm and stuck the hilt to her palm.

“You are going to die but if you kill her, you’ll die slowly.”

Lachlan.
“Get Kenny! Go!” She wept the finally command.

“You bastard. I hated you just like your mother. That whore!” Her spittle landed on Rowen’s hands.

“You’re like your father. Weak for a woman. But I was smarter than him. I had already known your whore of a mother was alive. Semias was loose that night, but I had added it together quicker than your stupid father. Hell didn’t want the man, no matter how much I poisoned him. He just went mad and boasted to me how he planned to kill me. But he died in the end, not me. I’ll kill you next. Don’t move.” The crazed woman pulled the blade free and waved it at Lachlan. He had to be near she was moving back.

Through her hair, she watched the woman’s face, twisted with anger. Her grip on Rowen’s hair slackened. Rowen jerked her hair free. She swung a fist and caught her on her cheek. She fell.

Rowen jumped on her. She felt hands grab at her. Rowen screamed like the banshee she had been accused of being. She clawed at her, striking her face.

“Rowen, she’s dead. She’s dead.”

Rowen stilled. The Lairdess lay on her side, her head half bashed in by a rock she had landed on. Rowen kicked her.

“Kenny.” She held out her hands. She swung up behind Lachlan. His horse sidestepped, not use to the weight of two people on him. Lachlan gathered control and rode off.

Lachlan called to Caelen. His call echoed through the forest. He called again. He had to get to his son.

Then Caelen called back. Lachlan hurried toward the taunt voice before the wind snatched it away. Caelen and the MacKenzie men had circled a wild-eyed Bran. Dried blood covered half his face. His eyes began to swell. He had his thick arm wrapped around Kenny’s wee neck, ready to snap it. Lachlan halted. His horse tossed his head. Rowen leapt from the saddle.

“Ma,” Kenny whimpered. He stretched out his hands to her.

“Bran,” she said.

Lachlan went to grab her. She shoved her way through the men, ignoring their calls for her to stand back. She stood before Bran, her hands up.

“Eacharn was kind to you. You betrayed him.
Him
, he never did anything wrong.”

“Aye, but you hold his son in your arms.”

“This isna his son.”

“What did Eacharn call him?”

“Son,” he answered.

“Release him.” She approached him. “And you can kill me. I betrayed him.”

“Nay,” Lachlan screamed.

Bran tightened his hold. Kenny’s face reddened like a berry squeezed to near bursting.

“I betrayed no one. Let his son go.” Rowen shuffled over to him. She stretched out her right arm, forcing him to either drop his blade or release her son.

He stared at her, appearing very much the animal cornered. His nostrils flared. Beads of sweat ran down his face. She felt his harsh exhalation. He loosened his hold and Kenny fell at his feet.

Lachlan leapt to him, knocking him down.

Rowen snatched up Kenny and ran. Lachlan punched him in the face. Bran swung back, catching Lachlan who held onto Bran’s
leine
. The two men fell down the slope.

Bran got to his feet first, egged on by his wild fight. He kicked Lachlan in the ribs. His grunt of pain reached Rowen. Bran had his broadsword. He raised it over his head and swung it down. Lachlan rolled out of the way.

Rowen scanned the ground behind her. She snatched it up. Kenny clung to the skirts of her
leine
. On her heels, she slid down.

The manly bellow reverberated. Bran spun around to see Rowen sliding down the slope. Lachlan stabbed Bran low in his back and yanked upward. The blade ripped through meaty flesh and warm blood spread over Lachlan’s hand. He lost grip of his dirk. He kicked Bran at the back of his knees.

Rowen ran by Bran. He made a grab for her. Caelen shadowed her heels and slammed his sword pommel across Bran’s face. Lachlan flung Rowen behind him and took his sword. Caelen backed away.

Bran, sensing Lachlan, turned around and rose unsteadily on his knees. Lachlan raised his sword. He arched his blade. Bran hunched over. Blood spurted in a long whipping line. Not giving him time, Lachlan brought his sword on his broad shoulder. The strike against bone rattled through his arm. Bran stumbled.

“Bastard,” Lachlan bellowed as he arched it around and brought it down on the man’s head, cutting the man’s head in half.

Bran fell with Lachlan’s sword buried in his head. Lachlan, half-expecting the possessed man to come at him again, planted his foot on his chest and ripped his claymore free.

He felt Rowen’s touch. He held her at arm’s length. “You foolish, foolish woman. What did you think you were doing? The man wanted to kill you. Don’t you ever risk your life for something so foolish.”

“Foolish? I will risk my life to save yours every time. I am to be your wife and if anyone is going to kill you, it will be me. I might do it now if you do not hold me close.”

He hauled her tightly against him. “I cannot have you risking your life now that you are mine. I love you too much. If I lose you, I have nothing more to live for. You give me life.” He pushed her an arm’s length away and inspected her wound. He forced her down to the ground.

He prodded her wound. “I love you too, and Lachlan, love…that hurts.”

“Aye.”

“I cannot lose you.” She lost consciousness after that.

Caelen held Kenny as Lachlan cared for her. “Do not worry, son. She will be well. It has stopped bleeding already.” He bandaged it and was about to pick up Rowen when she woke.

She murmured for her son.

Lachlan snatched up Kenny. “Don’t cry, for all is well. Go to your mother.”

Kenny threw himself in Rowen’s arms.

“Lads need their mothers at times such as these as much as husbands need their wives.” Lachlan dropped his sword to the ground, for the first time in his life, and hugged his family close. Slowly, his body calmed. His heart settled into it normal rhythm. His breathing lengthened and his skin cooled.

One of Mackenzie men asked what to do about the body. “Let the wolves have at him,” MacKenzie answered. Lachlan agreed.

With one arm around his family, he climbed the slope. On the short climb, Rowen asked, “What happened to Jonty?”

“He received the same ending as my father.”

“An eye for an eye.”

* * * *

There was a simple, square, stone building surrounded by earth that in the spring and summer looked as if it must rise from the greenery.

A few MacKenzies and many more Gordons gathered before the simple kirk. Lachlan stood beside Caelen. Both watched the path where Rowen would appear. Two days had passed since they returned to Gordon Castle.

He had put Rowen to bed with orders to rest and heal. She did not obey and professed that she was well. Lachlan knew that she was correct. That knowledge did nothing to erase the fear that gripped him. He could have lost her. She was fragile, not that she liked hearing that. In response to that comment, she proceeded to rebuke him in a loud volume. She had birthed a bairn, so what was a puny knife wound? When Lachlan made a comment about dust falling from the rafters, she yelled. Caelen left the hall. Lachlan tried to escape her ire but she followed him. Rowen told him that he was lucky that she was still willing to wed him. After that, there was nothing for him to do but kiss her. When he released her, he fled. He wasn’t proud of his actions, but it prevented a pounding from starting in his head.

“Now that I am Laird, you are allowing your sister to marry me.”

“Aye, you are lucky I don’t run my sword through you.”

Lachlan gasped dramatically. “Why?”

“I told you to stay away from her. You disobeyed me.”

“I stayed away for four years.”

“After spending a night with her,” Caelen said.

“Well…I ought to be praised for the four years.”

“I commend you on your restraint.” Caelen rolled his eyes.

“I do believe you made a joke.” Lachlan patted him on the back. “Kenny, get down from there.”

Kenny peered over his shoulder then jumped down from the tree. He dragged his feet over to them. He planted his feet widely and hooked a finger on the fold of his askew plaid. Lachlan bent before his son, straightened his plaid, and then fixed his hair. He filled with pride. Not bad for a bastard.

“She’s coming.” Caelen flicked his chin toward the path.

Kenny sighed. “Finally.”

Lachlan agreed. He straightened and faced Rowen. She took his breath away. She reminded him of the icons where the angels are surrounded in a white, glowing light. Aye, that was what she was, his angel brightening up his life. This woman that he never hoped to have in his life would walk this earth and then eternity at his side. He rushed to her and took her hand. She trembled. He squeezed the fine-boned flesh. He was so filled with love. He almost kissed her.

The priest cleared his throat. He led her to the front of the kirk. As she spoke in a clear voice, she held tightly to Lachlan, trying to send all of her love into him. Then he spoke his vows. His voice was thick. He couldn’t swallow back the emotion in his throat. Hell, his eyes began to burn.

Then they were man and wife.

“Finally,” Lachlan said.

“You’ll be my da now,” Kenny said as he squirmed his way between Rowen and Lachlan.

Lachlan tossed him high in the air before settling her giggling son in his arms. “Aye, I am.”

Epilogue

Lachlan had dealt with pain in his life. The worse though seemed to be racking his body, but especially his balls. That was what happened when a four-year-old lad leaped on you and landed on the wrong place.

“The sun is almost up, Da.” Kenny climbed between him and Rowen.

He peeled an eye open. “That is the only thing that shall be getting up.”

“Nay, we are to go fishing.”

Lachlan rose onto his elbows and looked beyond his son to his wife, curled on her side. “I know you are not asleep.”

Rowen did not move, but he saw the slight stiffening of her back. He kept his eyes on her. Finally, she huffed and rolled over. She rested her hands on her burgeoning belly.

“Morn, Ma, we’re going fishing. You cannot come because you are with bairn and bigger than a castle. That’s what Da said.”

“He did? What else did he say?”

Kenny thought about it so Lachlan used this time to get out of bed. “He said that you walk funny like this.” He leaped from the bed and showed her waddle.

“I do not.”

Lachlan didn’t bother to look around. He took a great interest in his plaid, shaking it out and smoothing it, but he knew that she aimed daggers at him. He even felt it buried in his back.

“What else did he say?”

“That he loves you like always.”

Lachlan turned to her and smiled. She shook her head at him and narrowed her eyes. Her lips twitched and a smile spread.

Rowen still took his breath away and as each day passed, he fell more in love with her.

“I know you love him and both of you love me. I don’t want to hear it anymore. Ma, when is it coming out?”

“When the bairn is ready,” she answered.

“Like bread.”

“In a way.”

“This one you cannot put butter on,” Lachlan told him. “Now, go to the hall. I shall meet you there.”

Kenny darted from the chamber. Lachlan went to her side of the bed. He bent over and said, “Let me give my wife a kiss.” He claimed her mouth. “Good morning, wife.”

“Good morning, husband. Ready to begin the day?”

“Aye, my days are certainly worth starting now. Though, my nights are pleasurable as well. You were demanding last night.”

“I was—you were the one with the exploring hands. You know that you need to touch me but once and I cannot control myself.”