Ransom (46 page)

Father Laggan shoved his goblet at Bridgid and then folded his hands together as though in prayer. His gaze piercing now, he demanded, “And how did the commander clear up the matter for you?”

Gillian was thoroughly confused by the priest's behavior. He was acting as though she had just confessed an obscene sin. “He told me I wasn't betrothed.”

“She isn't, is she?” Bridgid asked.

“No, she isn't,” he snapped. Then in a whisper, he said, “Good Lord Almighty.”

“Excuse me?”

“You aren't betrothed, lass . . .” The priest clasped one of Gillian's hands in both of his and gave her a sympathetic look. “You're married.”

“I'm sorry, what did you say?”

“I said you're married,” he repeated in a shout. He was so rattled he could barely control his temper. “That's why I blessed you. You said your vows.”

“I did?”

“Yes, you did, lass. I asked you if you had been coerced, and you assured me you hadn't . . . and there were witnesses.”

“Witnesses?” she stupidly repeated.

“Aye,” he agreed. “Don't you remember? You and the others had just ridden to the rise above the holding . . . that's when I joined you, and the Buchanan took hold of your hand . . .”

“No,” she whispered.

“It was proper and binding.”

She frantically shook her head. “I cannot be married. I would know if I was . . . wouldn't I?”

“It was sheer trickery,” the priest cried out. “Good Lord Almighty, the Buchanan tricked me, a man of the cloth.”

The priest's explanation was finally settling in her mind, and with the realization came a blinding burst of fury that almost knocked her over.

“No!” she shouted.

A servant happened by with a tray full of goblets brimming with wine. Bridgid grabbed one and thrust it into Gillian's hand.

Before she could drink it, the priest snatched it out of her hand and gulped it down. She reached for another. And it was at that precise second that Brodick, with Ramsey hot on his heels, reached her side.

“Gillian—”

She whirled around to face him. “We were married today?”

“Yes,” he answered calmly as he took the goblet away from her and handed it to Ramsey.

“On a horse? I was married on a horse?”

Ramsey passed the goblet to Bridgid before turning to Gillian. “We should celebrate this joyous occasion,” he suggested
with a straight face. Gillian looked as if she wanted to kill the groom; Brodick looked stoic, and the priest appeared to be on the verge of hysteria.

“This can be undone,” Father Laggan threatened.

“The hell it can,” Brodick snapped.

“What's done is done,” Ramsey interjected.

The priest glowered at him. “Has this marriage been consummated?”

Ramsey raised an eyebrow. “You're asking me?”

Gillian's face turned scarlet. Bridgid, taking mercy on her, handed her another full goblet of wine.

Brodick stopped her hand as she raised it to her lips. He grabbed the goblet, thrust it toward Ramsey, and then said, “You will not get drunk. I want you clearheaded tonight.”

She was so angry, tears blurred her vision. “How could you?” she whispered. “How could you?” she repeated in a shout.

“You're upset . . .” Brodick stopped to give Ramsey a hard shove. “This isn't funny, damn it,” he muttered.

“You're upset? That's the best you can come up with to calm your bride?” Ramsey asked.

“I'm not his bride,” Gillian cried out.

“Now, sweetheart,” Brodick began again without having the faintest idea what he could say that would calm her. “You're going to have to come to terms with this.”

“No, I'm not,” she declared emphatically.

It was apparent she wasn't in the mood to listen to anything he had to say. When he tried to take her into his arms, she backed away, stepping on Father Laggan's foot in the process.

“I asked a question, and I demand an answer,” the priest snapped. “Has this marriage been consummated?”

Since he was staring at Bridgid, she thought he expected
her to answer. “I honestly don't know, Father. I don't believe I should know . . . should I?”

Father Laggan grabbed the goblet out of Ramsey's hand and emptied it in one huge swallow. Ramsey quickly snatched another full goblet from the tray and gave it to the priest.

Laggan, beside himself with the ramifications of the Buchanan's deceit, wasn't paying any attention to what they were doing. “In all my days, I've never . . . It's the Buchanan who's responsible . . .” He quit rambling as he reached for the sleeve of his robe and began to vigorously mop his brow. “Good Lord Almighty. What's to be done?”

“On a horse, Brodick?”

“She's having a bit of trouble getting past that fact,” Ramsey remarked dryly.

“You could have gotten off the mare,” Brodick told her, trying to be reasonable. “If you'd wanted to get married with your feet on the ground, then you should have said something.”

She really wanted to throttle him. “But I didn't know I was getting married, did I?”

“Gillian, there isn't any need to shout. I'm standing right in front of you.”

She threaded her fingers through her hair in frustration and tried to gain control of herself.

“We knew,” Ramsey volunteered.

It suddenly dawned on her that there was an audience watching and listening to every word. She was surrounded by Brodick's guard, and as she glanced from face to face, she vowed that if one man dared to smile, she would start screaming.

“Did all of you know?” she demanded.

Every last one of them nodded. Then Brodick commanded
that she look at him. Her eyes blazed with anger when she complied. “I didn't know,” she cried out. “You tricked me.”

“No, I didn't,” he countered. “I told you I was going to marry you, didn't I?”

“Yes, but I—”

He wouldn't let her finish. “And you told me you loved me. Isn't that also true?”

“I've changed my mind.”

He took a step toward her and gave her a hard look to show he wasn't happy with her answer. Under his penetrating stare she couldn't continue to lie. “Oh, all right,” she relented. “I do love you. There, are you happy now? I love you, but only God knows why because
I
certainly don't. You're the most difficult, stubborn, arrogant, mule-headed man I've ever known.”

He seemed unimpressed with her tirade. “We're married now, Gillian,” he said in a calm voice that made her want to tear her hair out.

“Not for long,” she threatened.

He didn't like hearing that. He looked as if he was going to grab her, so she quickly backed away and put her hand out in a puny attempt to ward him off. “You stay where you are,” she demanded. “When you touch me, you know I can't think, and I need to think clearly now so I can figure out what to do.”

Ramsey handed the priest yet another drink.

Father Laggan's head was reeling from the Buchanan's trickery and the heavy wine. Believing it was his duty to look out for the poor lass, he mopped the sweat from his forehead with the cowl of his robe and stepped forward to take charge.

“
Has
this marriage been consummated?” he demanded, unaware he'd shouted the question.

Gillian was mortified. “Should you be asking me such a personal question in front of a crowd?”

“I've got to know,” the priest whispered loudly. “Lord, it's hot in here,” he added, his voice slurred. He then wiped the back of his neck with his hood as he repeated his question. “Was it consummated?”

Gillian answered in a bare whisper. “No.”

“Then it's possible that I can undo this tangled mess.”

“You'll do no such thing,” Brodick commanded.

The priest squinted up at the Buchanan laird and tried to bring the giant into focus. “Good God Almighty, there's two of them.” Shaking his head in an effort to clear it, he said, “You used deception to catch this sweet lass.”

Brodick didn't deny the allegation but merely shrugged. Father Laggan turned to Gillian to console her in her darkest hour. “You've got to stay away from him, lass, until I can figure out how to straighten this out. Do you understand what I'm telling you? You can't let him touch you if you're truly wanting out of this union. You've just got to stay away from him, lass. I can't stress that enough,” he added as he patted her hand. “Once he's . . . and you've been . . . well, you see, don't you, I can't have it undone. Do you understand what I'm telling you?”

“Yes, Father, I understand.”

“All right, then. Now you sleep on the problem, and tomorrow we'll put our heads together and decide what's to be done. I've never encountered a situation like this before, and it shocks me, yes it does, but I shouldn't be shocked at all because it's the Buchanans you see, and their laird's the worst of the lot. They're all heathens,” he added with a nod. “Tricking a man of the cloth. Wait until my superiors hear about this. Why, I'm certain they'll figure out a way to remove the blessing from this union. I just
may petition the pope to excommunicate every last one of them.”

“Oh, Father, please don't do that. I don't want the Buchanans to get into trouble with the Church.”

Brodick heard every word of the exchange and was highly amused by the priest's fervent speech. Leaning toward Ramsey, he asked, “Where is it?”

His friend understood what he wanted to know and in a low whisper answered him.

Gillian's wrath was now directed at Dylan. Poking him in the chest, she demanded, “Why didn't you tell me?”

“You didn't ask me, Lady Buchanan.”

“I'm not your Lady Buchanan,” she cried out, so rattled her words tripped over each other.

“Don't you want to belong to us, milady?” Robert asked.

“I don't want to belong to anyone.”

“Then why did you marry our laird?” Liam asked.

“I didn't know I was marrying him.”

“We knew,” Aaron cheerfully announced.

“We want to keep you, milady,” Stephen interjected. “You love our laird. We all heard you say so.”

“Aye, we heard you,” Robert agreed. “And you belong to us, milady.”

Perhaps it was because they were all pressing in on her looking so earnest and worried that she couldn't hold on to her anger any longer. She did love Brodick, and she did want to be married to him. Now and forever. Dear God, they'd all made her daft.

Father Laggan sagged onto the bench and braced one hand on his knee. “You'd best bolt your door tonight,” he suggested. “Do you understand what I'm telling you? You've got to stay away from him.”

“Gillian?”

“Yes, Brodick?”

“I want a word in private with you. Now.”

She wasn't given time to think about it. Clasping her hand, he marched out of the hall dragging her along with him.

As soon as the doors closed behind them, a resounding cheer went up. Bridgid was thoroughly perplexed. What in heaven's name was there to cheer about?

Father Laggan had also watched the couple leave. Shaking his head he cried out, “Didn't the lass hear a word I said? Good Lord Almighty.”

Ramsey suggested a toast then. Bridgid thought he was crazy. Hadn't he been listening to the conversation? “Laird, I believe you should wait until Laird Brodick and Gillian come back before you give a toast. As to that, why would you toast them? Didn't you hear what Father Laggan said? Tomorrow he's going to . . . Why are you smiling?”

“Ah, Bridgid, I forgot how innocent and naïve you are,” Ramsey said.

“I'm not so naïve.”

“Are you waiting for Gillian to come back?” When she nodded, he laughed. “But you're not naïve?”

“No, I'm not,” she insisted.

“Then you understand.”

“Understand what?”

He laughed again. “They aren't coming back.”

The priest continued to shake his head. “Good Lord Almighty. He's got her now.”

H
e swept her off her feet and carried her into the night. She put her arms around his neck and patiently waited for him to tell her where he was taking her. In truth, she had already come to terms with the inevitable. She loved this man with all her heart, and at the moment that was all that mattered.

She traced a line down the side of his face with her fingertip to get his attention. “Brodick?”

“You will not argue with me,” he commanded. “You're sleeping with me tonight and every night for the rest of our lives. Understand me?”

She didn't protest or scream, which surprised him.

A moment passed in silence and then she said, “I have just one question for you.”