Ransom (25 page)

“What in heaven's name is that supposed to mean? What is it you think I should ask you?”

“What you want to ask,” he said.

“You're an exasperating man.”

“So I've been told,” he said. “I'm impatient too,” he added. “But in this instance, I'm willing to wait.”

“There she is, Mama. That's Gillian.” Alec's shout echoed throughout the hall.

Gillian pulled away from Brodick, smiling as she watched the little boy run toward her. He grabbed her hand and started pulling. “Don't be afraid of Papa. Most ladies are, but maybe you won't be because you're not like most,” he said.

She wasn't as confident as Alec assumed she was, for Iain Maitland was an imposing figure. He was a tall, muscular man with penetrating gray eyes. His dark hair was given to curl and seemed to soften the blistering scowl on his face. Had he not been so imposing, she would have thought he was almost as handsome as Brodick.

Judith Maitland's smile helped assuage her husband's frightening manner. She was a beautiful woman, but it was the color of her eyes that captivated. They were the color of violets. She was a little bit of a thing, yet had such a regal bearing about her Gillian felt as though she were in the presence of a queen.

Desperately in need of a bath and clean clothes, Gillian thought she must look like a lowly peasant.

As soon as Brodick made the introductions, Judith rushed forward to clasp Gillian's hand. Her voice trembled
when she said, “You found our son and brought him home to us. I don't know how we will ever repay you.”

Gillian darted a quick look at Brodick. The Maitlands obviously believed that Alec had been lost, and Lord help her, how was she ever going to explain what really happened?

“Come and sit at the table,” Judith urged. “You must be thirsty and hungry from your long journey. Alec told us you came here all the way from England,” she remarked as she led Gillian to a chair near the end of the table.

“Yes, I came here from England.”

“I, too, am English,” Judith told her.

“No, Judith,” her husband corrected. “You used to be English.”

His wife smiled. “The men here change history when it's convenient.”

“You're a Maitland,” Iain countered. “And that is all anyone need know. Brodick, pour yourself some wine and sit down. I want to hear every detail of what transpired before I open the doors to family and friends. Alec, come and sit with your father.” He added the command with a good deal of affection in his voice.

The little boy ran around the table and pulled a stool close to his father's chair. Gillian noticed Iain's hand shook when he touched his son's shoulder. Alec smiled up at him and sat down, but was promptly lifted back to his feet and reminded to wait until the ladies had taken their seats.

The Maitland commander, Winslow, came striding into the hall then, bowed to his laird and lady, and then announced, “Ramsey Sinclair has just crossed our border and should be here within the hour.”

“Has he already heard of our good fortune?” Iain asked.

“I sent Dylan to him,” Brodick explained before turning to his brother.

“Gillian, I would like you to meet my brother. Winslow, this is Lady Gillian.”

Winslow bowed. “Lady Gillian, you are from England?” he asked, frowning.

“Yes, I am from England. 'Tis the truth I cannot and would not change that fact, sir. Does it displease you?”

Winslow surprised her with a quick smile. “It would depend, milady.”

“Depend on what?”

“My brother.” Without further explanation he dismissed the topic altogether and turned to Brodick. “You'll see my wife and my boys before you leave? They will be disappointed if you don't.”

“Of course I'll see them.”

“Bring them here, Winslow,” Iain ordered. “We must celebrate tonight. The children will stay up late.”

“Winslow, do you happen to know if Ramsey's brother, Michael, rides with the laird?” Gillian asked.

If the soldier thought the inquiry was peculiar, he didn't comment on it. “I don't know, milady, but we will soon find out.” He bowed once again and left the hall.

Judith personally saw to the task of fetching a pitcher of water for her guests.

“Papa, where's Graham?” Alec asked.

“Your brother's with your Uncle Patrick, but he'll be home soon. He's going to be very happy to see you.”

“'Cause he missed me?” he asked eagerly.

Iain smiled. “We all missed you, Alec.”

“Mama missed me the most. She's still shaking something fierce 'cause I surprised her. Look, Papa. She can't even pour the water. Is she gonna cry again?”

Iain laughed. “Probably,” he answered. “It's going to take your mother . . . and me,” he added, “time to get over this joyous surprise.”

Alec hadn't exaggerated Judith's condition. She had already spilled a good deal of water on the tabletop and thus far hadn't managed to get a single drop into the cup. Her hands were shaking violently and every time she looked at her son, her eyes brimmed with fresh tears.

Iain put his hand on top of his wife's. “Sit down, love,” he quietly suggested.

She moved her chair close to her husband, collapsed in the seat, and leaned into his side. Iain poured the water for Gillian, but as she reached for the goblet, she noticed how dirty her hands were and quickly hid them in her lap.

Iain put his arm around his wife and hugged her. His attention, however, was centered on Gillian. “Start at the beginning and tell me how and when you found my son. I want to hear every detail,” he ordered. He paused to pat Alec before adding, “It's a miracle a five-year-old could survive the falls.”

“Alec's only five years old?” Gillian asked.

“But I'm gonna be seven.”

“Your brother's seven,” Iain reminded him.

“But I'm gonna be seven too.”

Alec scooted off the stool and ran around the table to Gillian. Without asking permission, he climbed onto her lap, pulled her arms around him, and grinned at her.

“You and Alec have become close friends,” Judith remarked, smiling.

“Iain, perhaps you could wait until Alec has gone to bed to hear the details,” Brodick suggested.

“But I get to stay up late 'cause Papa said we have to celebrate,” Alec blurted. “Didn't you say so, Papa?”

“Yes,” his father agreed.

“You know what, Gillian?” Alec whispered loudly.

She leaned down. “No, what?”

“When I go to bed, Mama's gonna sit with me until I fall asleep, and my brother sleeps in the same room with me, so maybe I won't have bad dreams and I won't get scared.”

“Perhaps you won't dream at all tonight.”

“But you got to have someone to sleep with too, so you won't get scared 'cause I won't be there.”

“I'll be just fine,” she assured him.

Alec wasn't convinced. “But what if you do get scared? You got to have someone to wake you up. Maybe you could ask Brodick to sleep with you again like he did before.”

She clapped her hand over his mouth to get him to hush and felt her face burn with mortification. She knew Brodick was watching her, but she didn't dare look at him.

Judith laughed. “Alec, sweetheart, you're embarrassing Gillian.”

“Mama, you know what Gillian calls me?”

“No, what?”

Giggling, the little boy said, “Honey bear.”

Iain's gaze went back and forth between Gillian and Brodick. “Father Laggan's back,” he remarked. “And there's another, younger priest named Stevens with him.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Brodick asked.

“I just wanted you to know there are two priests available,” Iain explained with a meaningful glance at Gillian.

“I didn't sleep with Brodick,” she blurted out. “I have no need for a priest.”

“Yes, you did too.”

“Alec, it isn't polite to contradict your elders.”

“But, Mama . . .”

“Hush, sweetheart.”

Gillian glared at Brodick. He could easily correct this horrid misunderstanding if he would only offer a quick explanation.

He wasn't inclined. He winked at her. “I didn't know a face could get that red,” he remarked.

“Do explain,” she demanded.

“Explain what?” he asked, feigning innocence.

She turned to Judith. “We were camping . . . and it isn't what it sounds like . . . I did sleep, and when I awakened . . . they were all there . . .”

“They?” Iain asked.

“His soldiers.”

“You slept with his soldiers too?”

She didn't understand that Iain was teasing her. “No . . . that is to say, we . . . slept. That's all that happened, Laird.”

“Stop tormenting her,” Judith ordered. “Can you not see how distressing this is for her? Gillian doesn't understand the Highlanders' humor. What happened to your arm?” Judith asked then, thinking to turn the subject to a less delicate one. “I noticed the bandage, and I was curious—”

Alec interrupted his mother. Jumping off Gillian's lap, he cried out, “Papa, we got to take a walk.”

“Now?”

“Yes, Papa, now.”

“Alec, I want to talk to Brodick and Gillian. I'm anxious to hear how they found you.”

“But, Papa, I got to tell you what I did, and then you're gonna be mad at me. We got to take a walk so I can think about it.”

“Come here, son,” his father ordered, concerned by the anxiety he saw in Alec's eyes.

The little boy dragged his feet and kept his head down
as he went to his father. Iain laid his hands on his shoulders and leaned forward.

Alec promptly burst into tears. “I got real scared, Papa, and I cut Gillian's arm, and then it got all swollen, and Annie had to fix it, and it's all my fault 'cause I hurt a lady, and I'm not ever supposed to hurt ladies, but I got real scared. I didn't like England and I wanted to come home.” Alec threw his arms around his father's neck and began to sob in earnest.

“Alec has been very worried that he would disappoint you, Laird,” Gillian explained. “He didn't understand that I was trying to help him. He had climbed down with a rope into a gorge, but it was an old rope, and it began to unravel, and he . . .” She looked to Brodick for help. The task of explaining suddenly became overwhelming and she was so weary she didn't know where to start.

“My son isn't making much sense,” Iain said. “He says he was in England?”

Gillian braced herself for the ordeal ahead and quietly said, “He speaks the truth. Alec was in England.”

“I told you so, Papa.”

Iain nodded but kept his attention on Gillian. “How did my son get to England?”

“Alec didn't go into the falls. He was taken from the festival and imprisoned in a castle in England. That is where I met him.”

The expression on Iain's face changed. He put Alec in Judith's lap, and stood. For his son's sake, he tried to keep his voice mild when in fact he wanted to shout.

“Who took him?”

Gillian felt an instant of real fear as the laird towered over her, glowering as though he had already decided she was fully responsible for his son's jeopardy.

“It was a mistake,” she began.

“Damned right it was,” Iain roared.

Alec's eyes grew wide. “Are you angry, Papa?”

His father took a deep breath. “Yes,” he snapped.

“He isn't angry with you, Alec,” Gillian whispered.

“He knows that.”

“Don't snap at Gillian.” Brodick, who had remained silent up until now, sounded as angry as Iain when he gave the command. “She is as innocent as your son in this. Sit down, and I'll tell you what I have learned. I know you're anxious to hear it all, but you cannot raise your voice to Gillian. I will not allow it.”

Gillian could see that Iain was ready to explode and hurried to explain before the two lairds got into a real fight. “When I said it was a mistake . . .”

“Yes?” Iain asked.

“The men who took Alec thought they were stealing Ramsey's brother, Michael. They kidnapped the wrong boy.”

“For the love of . . .” Iain was so enraged he couldn't go on.

“Sit down, husband,” Judith suggested. “Listen to what Gillian has to say.”

He nearly overturned the chair when he ripped it out from the table and sat down. Leaning back, he stared hard at Gillian for several seconds.

“Start talking.”

“It's a very long story, Laird, and Ramsey should be here any minute now, shouldn't he? If you could please wait . . .”

Iain's jaw was clenched and he shook his head.

“Papa, you know what?” The little boy smiled up at his father when he spoke, and Iain reached over to pat him.

“No, what, Alec?” he asked gruffly.

“We sneaked away twice, but the first time we got
dragged back, and it was all my fault 'cause I didn't wait like I was supposed to.”

Iain blinked as he tried to sort out his son's confusing explanation. “What happened the first time you got away?”

“I climbed down into the gorge is what I did,” he boasted. “But I didn't get a good rope.”

“It was threadbare,” Gillian interjected.

“My son climbed down into a gorge with a threadbare rope?” Iain lashed out. “And where were you while Alec was attempting this?”

“Papa, she told me to wait for her, but I didn't, and we weren't supposed to go into the canyon, but I thought it would be faster. Then I got good and stuck, didn't I, Gillian?”

“Yes, you did.”

“I was supposed to wait in the stable.”

“But you didn't,” his mother said.

“No, and I thought Gillian was gonna puke 'cause her face turned green when she looked over the side and saw me. She told me she gets awful sick when she's got to look way down, and she sometimes gets dizzy too.”