Ransom

  “When you left, I was sleeping.”

  “Aye, but you had a smile on your face,” he teased. “You were no doubt dreaming about me.”

  “As a matter of fact, I’ve had an aggravating day.”

  “Tell me about it,” he suggested.

  “You really want to hear my complaints?” she asked, amazed.

  His nod was all the encouragement she needed, and she sat up and proceeded to tell him everything. “First, Ramsey made me sit in the hall all morning long and look at face after face as more of his followers came inside. Then when I still hadn’t found the man who betrayed him, he dragged me all over kingdom come to look at more faces. He was too busy to speak to Christen on my behalf,” she added. “And Brisbane had already come back to report that my sister still hasn’t changed her mind. I’m not going to continue to be patient, Brodick. I’m giving Ramsey until noon tomorrow to order Christen to come forward, and if he doesn’t, then I’m going to take matters into my own hands.”

  She took a deep breath and then continued. “I finally met Bridgid at the lake, but it was already close to suppertime by then, and when she joined me, she had disappointing news.”

  “What was her news?” he asked.

  “She asked a friend to follow Brisbane to find out where Christen lives, but the friend didn’t return to the holding. Bridgid thinks he forgot.”

  Brodick stood up and stretched. Gillian watched the muscles across his shoulders flex and was taken aback by the sheer might of his body. Then he removed his belt and stripped out of his clothes, and she promptly lost her train of thought altogether. Her husband was so incredibly beautiful.

  “So you thought that if you knew where Christen lived, you would simply go to her?”

  He waited a long minute for her to answer, then repeated the question.

  “Yes,” she stammered, flustered. “That’s what I thought.”

  “Christen’s a MacPherson and now part of the Sinclair clan.”

  “I realize that.”

  “Ramsey’s her laird and you shouldn’t interfere. Let him handle this. He promised you he’d force her to see you.”

  He dropped to the bed on his stomach, his weight all but knocking her to the floor.

  Though he was loath to admit it, he was exhausted.

  “Ramsey promised me he’d talk to her today, but he didn’t.”

  With a loud yawn, he said, “He’s a busy man, Gillian.”

  “I know he is. People are constantly hounding him with problems, and the women here won’t leave him alone. They make up all sorts of petty worries just so they can talk to him. It must drive him to distraction. Still, he promised me, Brodick, and he has until noon tomorrow to speak to Christen.”

  He didn’t want her to stop talking because he loved the husky sound of her voice.

  “What else happened today?”

  “I hid from Father Laggan,” she confessed. Brodick laughed, and she had to wait until he’d stopped to ask, “Did you perchance have an opportunity to speak to him?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “He had a hell of a hangover.”

  “Ramsey got him drunk on purpose, didn’t he?”

  “Laggan was already well on his way, but Ramsey helped.”

  “That’s a sin,” she decided. “Why did he do it?”

  “Because he’s my good friend and he knew that one way or another, I was going to take you to my bed.”

  She put her hand on his shoulder, noticed how tense he was, and began to rub his muscles. He groaned with pleasure, and so she pulled her gown up, straddled his hips, and used both hands to work the tension out of him.

  “Damn, that feels good.”

  She was also feeling relaxed, and she realized it was because she had shared her day with Brodick. “What did you do today?”

  “I went home.”

  “But you told me your holding is a long way from here.”

  “I rode hard,” he said. “But it was past sunset by the time I got back.”

  “What did you do at home?”

  “Settled a few problems,” he said.

  She remembered another bit of news to share with him then. “Do you know what Bridgid told me today?”

  “What’s that?”

  “A woman tried to sneak into Ramsey’s room . . . at least that’s what Bridgid thought. So she went in after her, and the sinful woman had taken her clothes off and was going to . . . you know.”

  Grinning, he said, “No, tell me.”

  “Seduce Ramsey, of course. Bridgid threw her out and made quite a scene. Now she’s furious with her laird because he bluntly told her he had invited the woman to share his bed. If he’s going to have women parading into his bedroom every night, Bridgid’s made up her mind to leave.”

  “And where will she go?”

  “We discussed that very problem on the way to chapel. We wanted to light a candle for Gideon’s father and another one for Ramsey’s soul. Bridgid is convinced he’s on his way to purgatory.”

  The heat of her thighs pressed against his was starting to interfere with his ability to concentrate. “Why would you light a candle for Gideon’s father? You don’t know the man.”

  “Because the poor man took a turn for the worse. Bridgid heard Faudron tell Ramsey so when he was explaining why Gideon has been delayed. Faudron and Anthony will share the commander’s duties until he returns.”

  “You’ve got a good heart, lass.”

  “Wouldn’t you light a candle for me if I were dying?”

  “Do not talk about such things. I would not let you die,” he said vehemently.

  She leaned down and kissed his shoulder. “I told Bridgid she could come and live with the Buchanans. She tried to hide her reaction to my suggestion, but it was obvious she was horrified by the idea. Isn’t that peculiar?”

  “It would be a difficult adjustment for her. Ramsey treats his followers like children. I don’t.”

  “I won’t have a difficult adjustment.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  “No, I won’t, because you’ll be there. I don’t care where I live or how I live as long as you are by my side.”

  He was humbled by her faith and love. “Now that I’m married, I’ll have to make some changes,” he remarked.

  “Such as?”

  “You’ll probably want a home.”

  “You don’t have a home now?”

  “No.”

  “Where do you sleep?” she asked, trying not to sound appalled.

  “On the ground. I much prefer it to a soft bed.”

  “But what do you do when it rains?”

  Her voice sounded strained, and he knew she was having difficulty staying calm. Her hands weren’t rubbing his shoulders now; they were pounding them.

  “I get wet.”

  She began to pray he wasn’t serious. “What about your followers? Do they also sleep outside?”

  “Some do, but the married men live in cottages like this one with their women.”

  “Why doesn’t their laird?”

  “I’ve had no need for one.”

  “You do now. I don’t want to sleep outside.”

  “You will sleep with me.”

  “Yes, but I want a home.”

  “Like Ramsey’s?” he asked.

  “No,” she answered. “It doesn’t have to be grand. One just like this cottage would be nice.”

  She stopped rubbing his shoulders and traced a crescent-shaped scar below his right shoulder. “How did you get this?”

  “I don’t remember. It happened a long time ago.”

  “It must have hurt,” she said. She kissed the jagged gray line, noticed his muscles tightened, and kissed him again. Then she stretched out on top of him and put her head down on his shoulder.

  He groaned. “You’re killing me, Gillian.”

  “Am I too heavy for you?”

  “That isn’t what I mean. If you don’t stop wiggling, I’m going to make love to you, and I know you’re te
nder.”

  The heat radiating from his body warmed her. “Not so very tender,” she whispered. “And you weren’t worried about that during the night.”

  “Then you remember? I thought you slept through it.”

  She knew he was teasing her. “Yes, I did sleep through it. It must have been a dream that made me scream.”

  “Aye, you were screaming,” he agreed, smiling over the memory. “I made you burn, didn’t I?”

  “How would I know? I was asleep.”

  She began to stroke his arms, loving the feel of him. “You’re so hard,” she whispered.

  She was far more accurate than she realized. He was hard from wanting her, but he was pleased by her boldness and curiosity.

  “Brodick?”

  “Yes?”

  “Could we . . . if you’re not too tired and you didn’t have to move . . . could I . . .”

  “Could you what?” he asked.

  She finally got up the courage to get the words out. “Could I make love to you?”

  “But I won’t have to move?”

  “No,” she insisted.

  He laughed. “Sweetheart, moving is a definite requirement.”

  Her hands caressed the sinewy ripples of his back as she slowly moved down his body. She wanted to kiss him everywhere.

  “Gillian,” he began gruffly.

  “Hush,” she whispered. “I’m making love to you this time. You said I could.”

  “May I offer a suggestion?”

  “What is it?”

  “It’ll work better if you let me turn over.”

  He rolled onto his back, grabbed her, and kissed her hungrily as he helped her untie the ribbon of her gown and watched her blush as she pulled the gown over her head and tossed it aside.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispered. He kissed her again.

  The teasing ended then as passion flared. Trembling in his arms, she became more demanding. He entered her swiftly, completely, and the pleasure was so intense, so blissful, he closed his eyes and groaned loudly, “Lord, you feel good.”

  And then he began to move within her, slowly, deliberately until she was writhing out of control. The thrilling sensations drove him on, and when he felt her tighten around him and heard her cry his name, he climaxed deep inside her.

  Spent, he collapsed on top of her and stayed there long minutes until his heart stopped slamming inside his chest and he could draw a decent breath.

  “You’ve exhausted me,” he whispered gruffly as he rolled to his side and pulled her up against him. Her back was against his chest and her sweet derriere was pressed against his groin. The scent of their lovemaking clung to their bodies; the only sound was that of the logs crackling in the hearth and Gillian’s occasional sigh.

  “I had no idea I was going to like this so much.”

  “I did,” he told her. “I knew the first time I kissed you. I could feel the passion in you. I knew you were going to be wild, and I was right.”

  “Because I love you,” she said. “I don’t think I’d be so . . . free . . . with any other man.”

  “You aren’t ever going to find out,” he said. “No other man will ever touch you.”

  Before he could get riled up, she soothed him. “I don’t want any other man. I want only you. I love you, now and forever.”

  Her fervent words pleased him. Lifting her hand, he kissed her wrist. “Does this still bother you?” he asked as he looked at the scars puckering her skin.

  “No,” she answered. She tried to pull her hand away then. “But it’s unsightly.”

  He kissed her ear. “Nothing about you is unsightly.”

  And then he proceeded to kiss every mark on her arm, and by the time he reached her elbow, she was shivering.

  Just as Gillian was contentedly drifting off to sleep, he nudged her. “Do you trust me?”

  “You know that I do.”

  “Then give me the names of the Englishmen.”

  She was suddenly wide awake. Turning in his arms, she looked into his eyes. “I want you to promise me something first.”

  “What is it?”

  She sat up, pulled the covers around her, and leaned against the wall. “You know that I have to return to England. You understood that before you married me, didn’t you?”

  He knew where this was leading and frowned. “Yes,” he agreed. “I knew you wanted to return to England.”

  “I’ll give you their names after you promise me you and Iain and Ramsey won’t retaliate until I’ve accomplished my goal and my Uncle Morgan is safe. You’re a man of your word, Brodick. Promise me.”

  “Gillian, I cannot let you go back. You’d be walking into a death trap, and I can’t—”

  “You cannot stop me.”

  “Yes, I can.” His voice was forceful now, angry. He sat up and roughly pulled her into his arms.

  “I have to go.”

  “No.”

  “Brodick, Morgan is now your uncle too, and it’s your duty to look out for him, isn’t it?”

  “I’ll find him for you, Gillian, and see that no harm comes to him.”

  She shook her head. “You wouldn’t know where to look. I have to go back and finish this.”

  He tried to reason with her. “You told me that the bastard demanded you return with the king’s box and your sister. You will be going back empty-handed. How then can you expect to save your uncle?”

  “The baron’s far more interested in getting the jeweled box back than anything else. I’m going to try to convince him that my sister’s dead.”

  “But you don’t have the box, do you? And you don’t know where the hell it is, remember?”

  “I’m praying that my sister remembers,” she said quietly.

  “And if she doesn’t?”

  “I don’t know,” she cried out. “I have to go back. My uncle’s life is at stake. Why won’t you understand?”

  “I can’t let you put yourself in such jeopardy. If anything happened to you . . .” His voice shook, and he couldn’t go on, couldn’t even think about Gillian being hurt without shuddering. “I wouldn’t like it,” he muttered.

  “Promise me, Brodick.”

  “No.”

  “Be reasonable,” she demanded.

  “I am being reasonable. You aren’t.”

  “You knew . . . before you married me . . . you knew what I had to do.”

  “Gillian, things have changed.”

  She tried another strategy. “You could protect me. You could make certain I was safe, couldn’t you?” He didn’t answer her. “If you and Ramsey and Iain came with me, I would be very safe. After I’ve found out where my uncle is, then you could retaliate . . . but not before.”

  “So it’s your plan to walk into the demon’s den alone? You’re out of your mind if you think . . .”

  “You could make it safe for me.”

  She wasn’t going to bend, and he had to have the names.

  “All right,” he finally agreed, but before she could get excited over his promise, he qualified it.

  “If your sister has the box or knows where it is and you then have something to bargain with, and if you do exactly what I tell you to do when we get there, then I’ll let you go with us.”

  “And you will wait until my uncle is safe to retaliate?”

  “Yes. I give you my word.”

  She was so pleased she kissed him. “Thank you.”

  “I swear to God, Gillian, if anything happens to you, I could not live with it.”

  “You’ll protect me.”

  Heaven help him, he was already regretting his promise. How in God’s name could he let her near the bastards?

  She put her head down on his shoulder. “There are three of them,” she whispered, and felt him tense in reaction. “All of them are barons and close friends of King John. When they were boys, their antics amused him. Baron Alford of Lockmiere is the most powerful. He’s the adviser to the king. My Uncle Morgan told me that he was the one who i
ntroduced Arianna to John, and for that reason alone, John will always protect him. You’re going to have to be very cunning and careful, Brodick. The king will not care what your reasons are if you harm Alford.”

  “Is Alford the one who killed your father and laid claim to your estates?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “He’s called Alford the Red because of the color of his hair and his temperament. He’s the one who struck the bargain with the Highlander, but he had help from the other two. Hugh of Barlowe and Edwin the Bald are always at Alford’s beck and call. Both have estates adjacent to Alford’s.”

  “Where is Alford now?”

  “Waiting for me in Dunhanshire,” she answered.

  “Do you think your uncle is there as well?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re going to have to accept the possibility that Alford has already killed your uncle.”

  “No,” she replied. “Oh, I know Alford would if he could and not suffer a minute of remorse, and I’ve heard him proudly declare that he has never kept his word, but he needs to keep my uncle alive in order to gain my cooperation. Alford knows he won’t get the box unless he can produce my uncle . . . and in good health . . . first.”

  “And then he’s going to try to kill both of you.”

  “You won’t let that happen.”

  “No, I won’t,” he agreed. “This is a dangerous game you’re playing, Gillian, and I promised to let you go with us if you had something to bargain with.”

  “You’ll take me with you,” she said. “With or without the box.”

  Brodick didn’t agree or disagree. For the next hour he made her describe in minute detail both her Uncle Morgan’s estate and Dunhanshire, and once he was satisfied, he questioned her about the number of soldiers under Alford’s command.

  It was past midnight when he finally let her rest. She fell asleep sprawled on top of him, safe and protected in his arms.

  He stayed awake another hour while he formulated his plans, and when he finally fell asleep, he dreamed of killing the man who had dared to touch her.

  Aye, he dreamed of revenge.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Gillian was sick and tired of waiting for her sister to come to her senses. She was also angry with Ramsey because he still hadn’t kept his promise to speak to Christen on her behalf, and though she had threatened that she would give him until noon today before she would take matters into her own hands, noon had come and gone, and so had Ramsey. One of the servants told her that he had left the holding early that morning with Brodick and a small band of soldiers. The servant didn’t know where they had gone or when they were coming back.