Kate Robbins - The Highland Chiefs Series (25 page)

“James.” She couldn`t say another word. Her fear consumed her. She was about to faint. He must have sensed it too because he caught her before she fell.

“Aileana, you look unwell, you shouldn’t be up. Here, let me help you back to your bed.”

“No! You’re planning to go after him aren’t you? You’re planning to confront him and after that, God knows what.”

She feared Gawain’s unpredictable, violent nature, but she also feared being separated from James.

Calum stepped toward them. “Aileana, he must be found, he’ll not stop coming for you and he cannot be permitted to get close to you again. If it’s confrontation you’re worried about, we intend to find him and escort him to Edinburgh to stand trial. We have no intention of harming him any further than necessary to secure him.”

Her gaze never left James’s face—she saw a different possibility there.

He was a man of integrity and different from Gawain in every way. If he were to kill someone in the heat of battle that would be something he could live with. But, if he were to seek out a man for the sole purpose of harming him, no matter the provocation, that would be something he would never get over. James could not be responsible for Gawain’s death, for it would always sit between them. She might not have memories of his life, but she was certain she knew this man better than she knew herself.

“Laird MacKay?”

Fergus displayed mild surprise.

“Lady MacIntosh.”

“Is it not true that you owe my husband a life debt?”
She sensed James’s unease. James would never claim the debt Fergus owed him. She would claim if for them both.

“Aileana, no.” James said.

“It’s the only way.”

“Yes, my lady, it is true,” Fergus said. “Your husband saved my life and those of my clansmen. I owe him a life debt, possibly more than one.”

Fergus appeared to understand what she asked. James did too but wore an expression of defiance.

“I don’t want you to leave me,” she said.

James released her and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. His eyes narrowed and pained, he shook his head and stormed out of the tavern.

Aileana had no words to offer any of them, she wanted Gawain found, aye, but she wanted to protect her husband as well. James was not a killer and she would not allow him to become one. She wasn’t concerned about the level of violence any of the other men might use since they didn’t have the same motivation.

Fergus returned to the map and the table. He studied all the roadways leading into and out of the town. He confessed he could not see the path Aileana had described but at least knew where it led. When he had gained all he could from the map, he spoke to Aileana.

“I’ll find him and make you safe again,” Fergus said.

Aileana couldn’t thank him. She was torn between putting everyone else in danger for her own safety and knowing Gawain’s blood could not be on James’s hands.

Fergus nodded to her. He gave explicit instructions as to where they should search. Only MacDougal remained without a task.

“You know this town better than any of us,” Fergus said. “Speak with the Campbell couple. Find out what they know about the man Aileana saw speaking with Gawain. If you identify him, find some men here in town and secure him. I’ll want to speak with him myself when I return.”

Fergus offered Aileana one last look of assurance and left the tavern.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Fergus divided the men into two parties. They headed southwest
, then spread out to cover about a mile and a half of terrain. He had assigned Neil Stephenson as leader of the other group, trusting in his ability for stealth better than anyone else.

Aileana’s description of the path leading toward the cottage was fairly accurate. Fergus found it with little difficulty and by midday saw the cottage in the distance. Fergus drew his
broadsword and crept toward it.

He listened.

Trees rustled, a brook babbled and somewhere close a raven cawed. More than a day had passed since Aileana had escaped and Gawain must have fled by now. No smoke wafted from the chimney and the door was closed.

From what Fergus remembered, this man slithered in and out of places undetected unless you looked hard. He would find him, though. That rodent would get what he deserved.

The debt he owed MacIntosh was great indeed. Were it not for the man’s involvement, he’d have spent more than a fortnight in the king’s dungeon. Perhaps he’d never see Nessia again. A troubling thought. He’d see her again soon enough and when he did, she’d know she could rely on him to secure a good future. He would do right by her for his brother’s sake—even if it meant marrying her to another. His feelings for her would not serve her best interests. He glanced sideways at her brother, Colin. The man had proven his worth. She’d be proud of him.

Fergus’s men surrounded the dwelling. He approached the door and lifted the wooden latch, careful not to make a sound. At first the door proved to be more stubborn and creaked with every inch Fergus demanded of it. Halfway open, it stopped resisting and noiselessly swung open the rest of the way. He peered in
side. The place appeared empty.

His shoulders relaxed just as a soft creaking sounded behind him. Fergus turned to see Gawain flying through the air toward him with his blade aimed at Fergus’s heart. He had only a split second to react and managed to divert the deadly attack just enough, but still received a
deep gash on his left shoulder.

Son of a whore!

Gawain’s body struck Fergus and the impact unsettled both for but a second. Gawain steadied himself and lunged at him again with his blade this time aiming at Fergus’s throat. Fergus was faster this time and swung his sword down, knocking Gawain’s hand away before he could make contact.

The man didn’t appear to recognize the immense difference in their size. Gawain swung forward a third time, this time slicing Fergus’s right arm, but still could not dislodge his sword. Warm liquid spread down Fergus’s arms. When was the last time he
’d been cut?

He’d had enough playing around. Fergus’s left fist crashed into Gawain’s face sending him sailing through the air and landing the smaller man on the ground just outside the cottage.

“Stay down, lad, or you will die!”

Gawain’s eyes were wild and he appeared beyond reasonable thought. The daft man didn’t take Fergus’s advice and leapt forward one more time with his blade again aimed at Fergus’s heart. The distance between them allowed Fergus time to counter the attack and his sword came down with a fierce blow on Gawain’s right wrist. The loud crack was followed by his
blade clattering to the ground.

Gawain let out a tortured howl, fell to his knees cradling his wounded limb.

“Stay down or you will die!”

Gawain’s face twisted as he pulled another blade from a strap on his leg and plunged it toward Fergus who stepped out of the way this time.

Fergus had lost all interest in any further fight. The pathetic sight of the man was sickening. He didn’t deserve death, after all the grief he had caused, he deserved to live with it.

“Bind him. Tight!”

Fergus stepped back from the scene for a moment. He looked down to see blood dripping from both sides of him and was rattled by the damage this man had caused him. He leaned against the cottage as his head spun, his body sliding until he sat with his back against the wall and closed his eyes. He’d been in battle many times before and had received never more than a scratch or two. How was it possible this whelp turned out to be so lethal?

When he opened his eyes again, Gawain was secured and one of his men examined the gashes on his shoulders.

“You look unwell,” Colin said. “We need to get moving before we lose our light.”

“Aye, let’s go. I want to be rid of this business and off home.”

“Any particular reason you’re in such a rush?”

Fergus grinne
d. “Lowland air makes me sick.”

“Sick indeed. Perhaps you are homesick for a certain black-haired lass.”

“Your sister has nothing to do with my anxiousness to return home.” He had no intention of discussing Nessia with her brother, or anyone else for that matter.

Colin put his hands up in surrender. “Oh aye, Fergus, I believe ye. No need to be defensive.”

Colin helped Fergus up and onto his horse to begin the trek back to Peebles. Gawain was tied to a crude litter and carried by two men. He moaned and mumbled all sorts of nonsense. After a few hours of this, combined with Fergus’s fatigue, Fergus had endured enough.

“Someone shut him up!”

No one moved to carry out the demand, he was after all, tied to a wooden plank.

“You can do it you know.” Gawain spoke his only sane words of the day. “You can kill me. It’s what I deserve.”

Gawain’s sober statement caught Fergus off guard. What he said was true, Fergus could kill him and no one would question it. This was why Aileana hadn’t wanted James involved in this capture and she had been right, James wouldn’t have resisted. What would Nessia think if Fergus killed a defenceless man?

Fergus stepped toward Gawain and his men stepped out of the way. They knew he was capable of snapping the man’s neck like a pheasant bone.

“You don’t deserve death,” Fergus said. “You deserve no less than to live with what you’ve done and the knowledge that James and Aileana MacIntosh will live a long and happy life at Chattan Castle.”

“Tell Aileana I’m sorry.” A
tear slid down Gawain’s cheek.

* * *

James sat at a table with his head hung low while Aileana paced. He was angry with her still, but she had made the right decision. If she had to live with the consequences of his hurt pride then so be it. The thought of being apart from him made her chest constrict.

Aileana had made a choice. She could either endure his anger or endure his imprisonment. She had made the right choice. Of that she had no doubt.

Fergus swung the door wide, dripping crimson splatters as he entered the tavern and interrupted her inner musing.

“Fergus! Oh! Gwen, get some cloths and water! Hurry!”

Aileana grasped his arms and guided him toward the fire. Once Fergus was seated, Aileana removed his shredded shirt and assessed his wounds. Gwen returned with the items she had requested and Aileana set about cleaning the angry gashes.

“You’d better go get the healer” she said to Gwen. “He’s lost much blood and is in need of stitching.”

As she examined Fergus’s arms, James paced behind them. The day had been torturous for everyone, but she spent hers wondering if James would ever forgive her for denying him his vengeance.

“We found him,” Fergus said. “He’s secur
e and here in the town prison.”

The weight of many sleepless nights lifted from her body. She turned to James, who would still not meet her gaze, but instead stood frozen staring at the back of Fergus’s head. He had not spoken to her since that morning and she found herself searching for the right words to say to him. Fergus found them for her.

“James, you would have killed him. You would have had to. He begged to die.”

Aileana watched the conflicted emotions cross James’s face before turning back to Fergus and whispering ‘thank you’ over and over. She was racked with guilt from having as
ked him to go instead of James.

James was by her side as she finished dressing Fergus’s wound. She gave the man a much needed drink of ale and helped him stretch his long legs onto a stool and covered him with a blanket. Fergus was better off sleeping where he was tha
n risk stumbling on the stairs.

James’s expression was filled with pain. He shifted his weight and frowned at her. Fine. Let him lament his wounded pride. Gawain was caught and James would not swing for it. That knowledge was enough for her and she would make it enough for him too.

James remained silent, but eventually met his wife’s eyes. He nodded once and Aileana rushed into his arms. For a long while they held one another. His forgiveness was worth more than a king’s ransom.

The next day, Aileana watched from the tavern window as a wedding procession make its way through the town. Three days had passed since she had been found and she was impatient with her slowly returning memory. She’d recalled bits and pieces of James and Gwen but not as much of Calum. It was enough for her to decide that everyone’s lives had been held up long enough because of her, especially
with Gawain no longer a threat.

She wanted to go home.

James had insisted they not travel just yet, and she longed for distraction from the intensity building between them. She’d earned his forgiveness and without an immediate threat to her safety, discovered a desire for him without measure. Unfortunately, he was not willing to give in to it. He said it wasn’t right.

He wanted her to remember their intimacy before they resumed that part of their relationship, but she experienced an undeniable desire surging through her every time he came near. Wasn’t that important too? She’d been denied long enough.

As the bride and groom passed, Aileana stole a glance at James and caught him staring at her. For one brief moment they were the only two in the world.

Many of the men involved in her search left after Gawain was captured, anxious to return to their responsibilities at home. The ones who stayed were those most loyal to Fergus and James. Among those to leave was Colin. His sister, Nessia, Aileana learned, was the widow of the late William MacKay.

“Will you give your sister a message for me lad?” Fergus asked him.

“Of course I will Fergus. You just need to tell me what it is.”

Fergus smiled.

“Tell her all is well and I’ll return shortly.”

Colin grinned at Fergus as he went to do as he was asked.

“Is she the pretty, black-haired lass who couldn’t tear her eyes away from you the entire time we were at MacKay House?” James asked.

“She what?”

James laughed and walked away from him. Fergus looked as though he was about to follow and force an explanation, but James had moved into Aileana’s embrace for protection. James and Fergus behaved like comrades
—brothers.

Aileana looked back toward the street and sighed. James sat beside her and kissed her head while brushing a lock of hair from her face.

“What is it?”

“I keep thinking about a wedding.”

“Go on,” he said.

“There was a dance?”

“Aye, we danced.”

“Take ‘er upstairs?”

Her whispered words brought a huge smile to James’s face.

“That’s right, love. On the night of our betrothal ceremony. One of my clansmen yelled those words.”

Aileana was pleased with herself. This memory was special for with it there was no doubt it was real. All the others had been foggy, but this one was crystal clear.

“You know, in your condition, you shouldn’t be out of bed too long.” His deep voice rumbled in her ear, sending thrilling shivers down her neck. “I believe I can make a reasonable excuse for us to retire early.”

Aileana raised her eyebrows.

“I still think we should give it some more time before we are intimate, but you can always check to see if my kisses are still like they were in your dream.”

James nuzzled Aileana’s neck as he spoke those words. She was disappointed he still would not make love to her, but was satisfied to be in his arms.

James and Aileana retired to their chamber. He removed her clothing his own and crawled into bed next to her. The heat coming from his body was intoxicating
and she sought to absorb more.

“Aileana, what are you doing?” James asked.

She snuggled closer. “Getting warm.”

“Aileana, don’t,” he said as she pressed her firm breasts against him. He looked so serious and worried that she relented and pulled her body back a little from his. Lying together in each other’s arms would have to suffice. For now.

“Tell me about our courtship,” she said, hoping he would welcome the distraction. She was right. His resulting smile thrilled her. God that man’s smile was intoxicating.

“Well, you couldn’t keep your hands off me, like now, and I had to relent and marry you,” he said.

“That’s not possible!”

“It is true, I swear. You were all over me and kissed me whenever you could find the opportunity. You were quite scandalous in your wanton behaviour, Lady MacIntosh. I believe I saved you from a most embarrassing reputation. It was a sacrifice, but I would not see a lady dishonoured.”