The Highlander's Bride Trouble (26 page)

Saer wasn’t willing to grant it to her. Just as she felt it beginning to crest, he
left off sucking and licked his way to the opening of her passage.

She cried out in frustration.

He chuckled wickedly.

“No’ yet, lass. I want to make sure ye know why ye need to stay with me.” He thrust
one finger into her body, sending a jolt of need through her. “I am the man who will
always satisfy ye, Nareen. Always.”

His tone grew rough with determination.

“Then do so,” she demanded. “I want more than yer finger.”

“Is that so?” He stood up and lifted his kilt. His cock was rigid and ready. “Is this
more to yer liking?”

“Aye!” she answered, unashamed.

He unleashed something inside her that had no limits and no regrets. She opened her
arms in invitation, and he came to her.

He cupped her bottom as he sank into her spread body. She closed her eyes, no longer
having time to process the sense of sight. She was too absorbed with the hard thrusts
of his body into hers. The filling and stretching of her passage and the way it sent
delight through her.

She strained toward him, bucking with every thrust and moaning with satisfaction as
she felt him slide completely into her. In that moment, they were part of the same
soul, each one connected by the need burning inside them. He snarled, and she opened
her eyes to see his teeth bared at her. The muscles along his neck were corded as
he strained to hold back his seed.

He thrust harder and deeper into her. He touched some spot deep inside her passage
that was so sensitive, she burst into a shower of delight. The moment she cried out,
his seed began to fill her, hot and searing. She gasped, struggling to fill her lungs
as she was tumbled and twisted by rapture.

They ended up sitting on the floor and against the edge of the bed. Saer cradled her
against his chest and tucked her head beneath his chin.

“Ye are the only woman I have ever enjoyed fighting with.”

“Ye should nae have doubted me word.”

He smoothed a hand along her shoulder. “When I saw yer brother riding out like the
devil was on his heels, all I could think was that ye’d left me.”

Her thoughts cleared suddenly, and she lifted her head so she might look at him. “I
was talking about the dress, but that is even worse. I gave ye me word.”

He frowned at her. “For the last time, I did nae take yer dress.”

But he’d still thought she’d left.

“Kael did offer to take me,” she admitted.

Saer cussed and stood up. “He would.”

“He is me brother, Saer. Ye would do the same for Daphne.”

Saer reached over and helped her up. He held on to her biceps, massaging them softly
as he contemplated her.

“I am glad ye stayed, Nareen.”

His voice was thick with emotion. The wound he’d opened on her heart the day before
soaked it up, giving her hope that he might have affection for her after all. “Why?
Could ye nae replace a woman who does nae keep her word? Even one with spirit?”

“I could never replace ye,” he declared softly.

She opened her mouth to try and make him say the words she needed, but he touched
his forehead to hers and closed his eyes.

“I do nae know what…this…is between us, Nareen.” He opened his eyes and locked gazes
with her. “Only that I need ye to be here, with me. I need ye to trust me… I…need…ye.”

“I love ye.”

Her words were soft, but she watched them hit him. He stiffened, his grip on her biceps
tightening as he drew in a breath. A moment later, he bent his knee and lowered himself
in front of her. He hugged her to him, placing his head against her belly. She pushed
her hands into his hair and held him tight.

“I do nae know if I can love, Nareen.”

She heard the doubt in his voice and recognized it well. “I still do nae know if I
can trust completely, but I am here,” she offered in return.

He stood up and wiped the two tears that had fallen from her eyes off her cheeks.

“We are well matched.”

She offered him a smile. “Aye, we are.”

There was a knock on the chamber door. Agnes opened it before waiting for someone
to invite her in.

“I’ve found ye a dress, mistress. It took me longer than I thought it would, but yer
other one smelled something terrible.”

The girl had her arms piled high with clothing and didn’t see Saer until she was already
inside the chamber.

“That solves the mystery of the dress,” he muttered.

There was another rap on the chamber door. It wasn’t really closed, and Baruch peeked
in.

“Laird, the stone has arrived from the Earl of Ross. They are bringing it across the
green now. It’s a heavy load. Kael Grant stopped to give a hand with the wagons. One
of them has broken a wheel.”

“It seems the day demands yer attention,” Nareen said.

Before moving toward Baruch, Saer gave her hand a squeeze. “I’ll see ye tonight.”

“Indeed ye shall, Saer MacLeod.”

***

Outside the main gate, Saer could see the line of wagons. But they weren’t moving
toward the castle. One of them had broken a wheel, and the Ross men were trying to
mend it. Kael suddenly sent the bulk of his men back to the castle as Saer mounted
his horse to go out to greet them.

The Grant retainers happily made their way to the tables in the inner courtyard to
enjoy the meal their laird had made them leave without.

Saer rode out, eager to inspect the stone. It took a lot of time to shape rock. The
amount of finished blocks the earl had promised him gave Saer the chance to see the
new section of wall finished before the snow started falling. The towers wouldn’t
be finished, but the yard would be secure.

Only Baruch rode with him, but Kael was standing next to the broken wheel. He looked
up as Saer arrived.

“Ye should have brought a carpenter. These Ross seem to have no method of repairing
this. What sort of man ventures out without mending tools?” he finished with an expression
of disgust.

The Ross had freed all the horses from the carts and held them off to one side, which
did not make sense either. But they were also the men who had allowed Abigail and
Nareen to leave without a proper escort. The Earl of Ross’s son had best get home
before his inheritance was eroded away by his father’s inattention to details. The
Ross retainers needed to be taken in hand.

Saer slid off his stallion and crouched down to look at the wheel. Cut stones had
spilled out of the two-wheeled cart, and he couldn’t resist running a hand over one.
The work was perfect.

“Laird MacLeod?”

Saer turned his head and found the Ross captain behind him. “Aye.” He began to rise,
but the man struck as he was moving.

He saw the flash of morning sun on the blade of a short sword the man was gripping
behind his leg. Saer threw himself away from it, but there wasn’t time to escape completely.
The sharp metal slid into his side, leaving a red-hot trail as it sank into his flesh.

“A token of gratitude from the earl for leaving his daughter in the hands of Bastian
MacKay!”

Saer let out a roar that had Kael jumping into action. Every Ross was ready to fight,
their ambush well planned. Baruch snarled and pulled his sword free, jumping forward
to place himself in front of Saer and drive the Ross captain back. Saer heard the
sound of swords locking before Baruch buried his blade deep in the Ross captain’s
chest.

“That’s what we do with men who attack without warning!” Baruch yelled.

The Ross weren’t ready to give up, but the Grant retainers fought them back fiercely.
Saer whistled for his stallion, the animal responding quickly in spite of the fray
going on.

He could feel the blood spilling down his side, feel his strength pouring out of him
along with it. Men screamed as he hooked his hand into the saddle and swung his leg
over the back of the animal.

He barely made it into the saddle and slumped forward, unable to straighten his body.
Kael’s men surrounded him, but they were outnumbered. Behind him, he could hear someone
ringing the bells on the outer wall frantically, but they’d all be dead by the time
men arrived from the castle.

The Ross had planned their attack well.

But they also had no wish to die. The Ross suddenly bolted, fleeing back to their
horses and into the woods. Kael gave a cry and sent his men after them.

It was the last thing he saw clearly before his vision began to fade and he turned
his horse toward the castle.

***

Nareen had just sat down at the high table when she heard the bells. Their frantic
tempo chilled her blood. She ran back down the aisle and through the large arched
doorway that led to the open yard.

The masons were pushed off to the side of the inner yard as men and horses tried to
form into lines. Everywhere there were boys struggling with saddles and bridles. Too
many of those preparing to mount were only youths.

A commotion started at the gate between the two yards. She saw her brother and his
men pushing their way through. They carried someone. Horror filled her as she realized
it was Saer.

His shirt was soaked with blood, the creamy linen a terrifying crimson. Even his kilt
was stained dark and glistened in the morning sun. Kael and his men hurried to bring
him up the stairs and into the tower. She swallowed her horror.

“Make way!” she yelled at the women behind her. They scurried to clear a path as Saer
was carried through the doorway.

“Nareen.”

His voice was edged with pain and his eyes framed with creases. His was reaching for
her, his fingers seeking hers.

She put her hand into his and gasped at the strength of his grip.

“A priest,” he gasped as the motion of being moved sent more pain through his ravaged
body.

She mustn’t cry.

“Yes. I will get Father Peter.”

But Saer didn’t release her. He pulled her closer. “Wed me.”

“What?” She was struggling to keep up and stay in place beside him while his men carried
him. “Now is nae the time…”

“Now is the only time!” he exclaimed. “Stop!”

His men didn’t listen to him. They bore him up the stairs and into his chamber, and
he dragged her along by his grip on her hand.

“Do nae…let our child be…bastard-born…”

“I’m nae with child,” she said numbly.

“Ye could be.” His voice was failing, his pallor turning gray. “Wed me.”

“Ye need last rites,” she argued.

There was a flutter of sackcloth in the doorway, relieving her. Father Peter was making
his way through the crowd, trying to organize help for their laird.

“Father Peter is here, ye must take yer last rites, Saer.”

“Wed us,” he growled, but his voice was weakening. “Ye could be…with child… I cannae
face God knowing I left it…bastard-born.”

The look in his eyes was determined. Tears escaped her eyes as she saw his strength
fading while she watched.

“As ye wish,” she relented, horrified by the fact that she was granting his last request.

But it filled his eyes with satisfaction. She stared into them as Father Peter married
them. Trying to absorb the last moments of the man she loved.

“Ye are now married,” the priest informed them.

Saer looked at the priest, and Father Peter nodded to confirm the deed was done. He
looked over to where Kael stood, and received another nod. By the time he looked back
at her, his fingers were going slack, his body relaxing until he was limp.

She let her tears fall, and someone moved her back. The solemn tones of the priest
intoning last rites mixed with the sharp commands of those trying to tend to his wounds.

But it was likely a useless fight.

“I doubt he’ll live to see dawn.” The barber surgeon was an old man. He looked at
Saer, seeking something else to do, but there was nothing. He gathered up his tools
and laid a heavy hand on her shoulder before leaving the chamber.

“Perhaps…ye are with child?” he asked her hopefully before making his way toward the
door on shuffled steps that echoed because of how silent everyone was.

Saer’s captains were clustered near the door, and he gestured them out with his old
hands. Once their footsteps faded, the chamber was left in silence. Even the yard
was free of noise as everyone waited on word of their laird.

Nareen moved slowly toward the bed. The wound was stitched and bound, but she could
still smell the scent of fresh blood. Saer was a ghastly shade of gray, his lips bloodless.
Someone had covered his lower body with a length of MacLeod plaid and laid his sword
by his right side.

As a Highlander should be when he met his end.

No. She wouldn’t let him die.

She pulled one of the heavy chairs over to the bed and sat beside him. She lifted
the bedding off the floor and covered him. Rubbing warmth back into his hands as the
day crept by so slowly. There wasn’t a single chisel strike to be heard, only silence
and the shallow breaths Saer seemed to struggle to take.

Kael came at last. He stood behind her, but she refused to turn to him. She lifted
her head from where she’d rested it on the bed.

“I do nae need comfort; he is nae going to die. Ye do nae know how strong he is.”

“It was an ambush,” he told her at last. “Those bloody Ross wanted blood for Abigail’s
plight.”

“At least…I did nae…pay…for the…stone.”

Nareen gasped and turned to find Saer’s eyes half-open. He reached for her hand, but
his motions were slow and clumsy. She clasped his hand, smiling though her eyes were
glassy.

“I’m happy to say we hauled every last stone into the outer yard and even kept the
carts,” Kael informed Saer.

“Good.” His voice slurred. “Water…”

She hurried to fill a cup from the pitcher on the trestle table. Kael helped lift
Saer so he might drink from the goblet. He swallowed only a few mouthfuls before going
limp again.

“Ye see, Kael? I told ye.”

Her brother only laid a hand on her shoulder. She fought back tears and tried not
to think about how much experience Kael had with battle wounds.

She’d not lose hope.

It was a wife’s duty to keep hope alive.

***

Fate decided to be kind to her. Saer lived through the day and into the night. Nareen
slept sitting in the chair with her head beside him. In the darkest hours of the night,
she felt his hands in her hair. She opened her eyes to see him watching her.

“The silver is beneath the corner stone…” He gestured across the chamber behind her.

“What silver?”

He managed a weak grin. “It’s there. The Sutherlands returned part of me sister’s
dowry, since it was so great and we had nothing.”

“That’s how ye were going to pay for the stone.”

He nodded. She reached for the goblet and helped him drink from it.

“There is enough…for ye…if ye are wise…”

“I won’t need to be,” Nareen insisted gently. “Ye will be here to help guide me.”

He tried to reach for her cheek, but lacked the strength to lift his hand from the
bed. His eyes slid shut, and she stifled a sob.

***

The church bells woke her.

Dawn was brightening the horizon and warming the air.

She frowned, realizing the heat wasn’t coming from the sun. It came from Saer. She
reached for his brow and sucked in her breath.

His body was flushed with fever.

She hurried out to the
terrazzino
and pulled up cool water from the loch to bathe him with. When Agnes arrived with
food, Nareen left it untouched.

But some time later, there was a scratching at the door, and then a scuffed step on
the floor. Agnes held the door open for Maud, as two other women followed the old
woman. One held a steaming kettle, and another had a basket over her arm and a large
wooden bowl in her hands.

“Agnes says there’s fever.”

Nareen nodded.

The old woman pointed at the trestle table. The basket and bowl were set before her.

“Ye were nae taught healing arts,” the old woman muttered as she rummaged through
the basket, pulling several things out and putting them in the bowl.

“Me mother died when I was three,” Nareen answered. “I was taught to stitch and bind
wounds, and some medicine. Little really.”

Maud nodded. “Me mother was a healer, even if the Church liked to tell her only God
had such power. She used to say God had given her wits to know how to use what he’d
created. She knew every plant in the forest.”

She directed Agnes to crush what she’d put in the bowl. “Time has stolen the strength
from me fingers, but not the knowledge from me head.”

There was a crunching sound. Maud nodded approvingly and pointed at the kettle. “Just
a bit, to form a paste.”

Agnes used a wooden paddle to mix it.

“Unbind that wound,” Maud directed.

Nareen used the pair of sewing scissors and sliced the fabric away.

“I can smell it festering,” Maud informed them. She moved over to look at the wound.
“But it is nae too bad.”

She spread the paste over the line of stitches. “Bind it again. Tonight, we’ll wash
it off and apply more.”

She shuffled back over to her basket and took out a small bundle of cloth. It was
only as big as her thumb and tied with a cord.

“Steep this until the water is dark. It will ease the pain if ye can get him to drink
it.”

Nareen took it and placed it in the goblet. Agnes added hot water.

“I’ll come again tonight.”

It was such a simple statement, but it offered her a morsel of hope. That slender
hope became almost too hard to hold on to as the day progressed and Saer didn’t open
his eyes again. But she couldn’t give up.

To do so would to be to give up on her very life.

She suddenly stood, unable to bear the silence. The first few steps were the hardest,
but she went through the door and down the steps until she stood in the double arch
opening at the base of the keep.

People looked up, standing out of respect, for they thought she was there to tell
them their laird was dead. Women covered their mouths with their hands, steeling themselves
for bad news. She drew in a deep breath to steady her voice.

“Build,” she commanded them.

Frowns marred the faces of those watching as many of the masons looked to one another
to decipher her reasoning.

“Build,” she repeated louder. “Yer laird has a vision for the MacLeod, one he offers
ye all a place in. Lay stone and let him hear that ye have no’ abandoned his dream.
Let him hear that the Ross have no’ stopped us from doing what we will.”

There were nods and then more nods before men started to walk toward the half-finished
walls. The first sounds of chiseling filled her with relief. It grew louder when she
reentered the chamber, because the doors were open to the
terrazzino
.

She nodded with satisfaction and returned to the chair.

“We’re…well matched.”

Saer’s voice was thin and his eyes only open a slit. She lifted the cup to his lips,
supporting his neck as he took some of the brew Maud had left.

“Aye, we are,” she confirmed when he’d settled back down. “So do nae plan on leaving
me.”

The crane began to groan outside in the yard. A dull sound of wood and rope. Saer
turned toward it, his lips lifting into a half smile before he drifted off into unconsciousness
again.

***

The bells on the wall began ringing in the middle of the next day.

There was a rushed, hurried step on the stone outside the chamber. Someone pushed
in the doors. Nareen looked up as Baruch made it three full strides into the bedchamber
before he remembered to tug on the corner of his cap. His attention was on Saer. He
stared at his laird’s chest, making the sign of the cross over himself when he realized
Saer still drew breath.

He turned as soon as the information finished moving through his brain, leaving her
alone.

The bells stopped, but Nareen went to the archways and out onto the
terrazzino
to look into the yard. She hadn’t thought she could feel any worse, but below her,
were two neat columns of Grant riders arriving.

There could be only one reason they were there. Her father had not been well for many
years.

Kael met them. The captain dismounted and ran up to her brother, tugged on his cap,
and leaned in close to speak.

What terrified her was the way the man reached out and clasped Kael on the shoulder.

Her belly knotted, and she turned to walk toward the door. She stepped into the hallway
as she heard her brother’s boots making firm sounds on the stone. His head came into
view, and he paused when he found her waiting for him.

His expression tightened, and he bore down on her. He hesitated again before speaking.

“Say what must be said,” she instructed him.

He nodded. “Father has suffered a brain seizure. He is nae expected to survive much
longer.”

She stiffened, longing for Saer’s embrace, for it was the only safe place she could
think of.

But there would be no comfort from her husband.

“Ye must go, Kael.”

Her brother shook his head. “I’ll nae abandon ye again, Nareen.”

“Go home, Kael. Ye must be a son now. Nae a brother.”

Her brother frowned at her. Nareen drew in a breath.

“I mean it, go home.”

“Ye should be at father’s side as well,” he answered.

“Saer has no one else to be at his side.” She nodded. “Me place is here.”

Something flickered in her brother’s eyes, and she realized it was doubt. Nareen lifted
her chin.

“I am a woman, Kael. Me place is here by me husband’s side, and yers is by our father’s.
We were both taught our duty, and the time has come to see it done.”

Her brother’s complexion darkened. “Aye.” But he reached out and captured her hand,
gripping it with his larger one. “Ye have a place on Grant land, and I swear I will
nae make any match for ye.”

It was his solemn vow. She heard it in his tone and witnessed it in his dark eyes.

“Thank ye.”

Kael shook his head. “Never thank me for doing what I should have. Ye cannae absolve
me of failing to protect ye, Nareen. No one can.”

There was a finality in his tone that tore at her heart. She understood his rage,
shared a deep understanding of the pain that ate at him. Feeling one’s own confidence
shred was worse than any pain inflicted by another.

“I hope ye forgive yerself someday, Kael, for I have. Know I am happy here.”

He jerked, making a hiss as he pulled his breath through gritted teeth. He wanted
to argue; she saw it flicker in his eyes. But he offered her only a nod before turning
and striding down the passageway.

She felt him leaving as much as she saw it happening. But there was something else,
something stronger pulling her back into the chamber where Saer fought against fate’s
desire to tug him away from life.

It was a battle, too.

His body was bathed in perspiration, and he jerked as he struggled to wake. She moved
closer, picking up a cloth and pushing it into a bowl of water.

“Shh…” she cooed softly and stroked his forehead with the cool cloth. “There are times
ye must be at peace, my love.”

Her voice was choked with tears, but it didn’t matter, for there was no one there
for her to worry about seeing her weakness. She let the tears slide down her cheeks
as she rinsed the cloth.

“Do nae weep…”

She jumped, afraid Saer had lost his battle in those moments she’d looked away. But
his eyes were open, glittering with all the raw determination he always seemed to
have.

“Say…say it…again…”

He was struggling to keep his eyes open, the muscle along his jaw twitching.

“I love ye.” She shuddered, and her eyes closed, but she forced them open, not wanting
to miss her last moments with him. She caught his hand and pressed it against her
breast. “I love ye.”

His lips twitched. But he lacked the strength to actually grin at her. For a moment,
his fingers moved against the swells of her breasts, but it was a fleeting thing.
His eyes closed, and his arm went limp.

A sob escaped her, and then another, as tears flowed down her cheeks freely. Peace
settled over him as the sun set. She felt his strength diminishing, along with the
light, and she began to feel the coldness of separation biting into her.

Why was fate so unkind?

***

“So I lived to see another day…”

Nareen turned to find Saer watching her the next day. She blinked, unable to understand
that he was still alive.

“Ye’re keeping me here,” he teased her.

“Nay,” she argued gently as she offered him more of the remedy Maud had left. She
lifted it to his lips and watched some of it disappear. “Ye are too stubborn to die.”

“Ye are too stubborn to let me.”

“Thank Maud.” Nareen offered him more of the remedy. “She knows things I do nae. Things
I should know.”

“I want to thank ye…for wedding me.”

He reached for her hand, and she clasped his.

“Ye told them to work,” he muttered as his eyes began to droop.

“It’s the sound of the future,” she confirmed.

“Go…see what progress has been made… I want to know…”

***

The stonemasons didn’t hesitate to show her what they had accomplished. But the stone
from the Rosses was stacked outside the new curtain wall, abandoned. She stared at
it as two of the senior masons watched her.

“Bad luck stone.” One muttered.

His comrade nodded.

“It was paid for in blood,” she informed them. “Lay it on the outer wall, so everyone
knows their laird will bleed for them if necessary.”