The Highlander Takes a Bride

  "We have to push it closed," Alpin whispered once they were both inside.

  Saidh nodded and turned to press both hands to the large stone door, surprised when it took the lightest push to make it close. Large as it was she'd expected it would be a harder task. It must have some kind of weight and pulley system, she supposed.

  "This way," Alpin said, turning to head up the dark, narrow corridor.

  "I am surprised ye're willing to show me the passage," Saidh commented quietly as she followed him. "I thought ye did no' approve o' me fer yer laird's wife."

  " 'S truth, I did no'," Alpin admitted in a wry little voice. "But I've change me mind."

  "Ha'e ye?" she asked with interest. "Why? I'm still no much o' a lady. I curse and carry a sword and ha'e a filthy temper."

  "Aye, but so does me laird," he said on a sigh, and then added, "But I think me laird loves ye."

  Saidh stopped walking at this news and stared at the boy's back as he continued forward, the torch leaving him in silhouette. His words had knocked the wind from her. Greer? Love her?

  The boy said he thought Greer loved her, Saidh's common sense pointed out. It wasn't as if Greer had confessed it to the lad or something and it was a certainty. Still . . . what if he did? For her husband to love her would be . . . well, she thought that would be just fine. Wonderful in fact. Because she suspected she was coming to love the big, stupid stubborn man herself. How could she not? He'd done nothing but fuss over her the last three days since she'd woken from her long sleep.

  While she and Alpin occupied the bed, Greer had taken to sleeping on a pallet on the floor next to her to remain close. He was usually awake and gone by the time she woke in the morning, but always returned to share the nooning meal with them, and then again at sup. Afterward, Greer didn't retire below to drink with the men, but sat and played chess or nine-men's morris, or any number of other games to entertain them.

  The first night, Saidh had been too tired to play and left it to him and Alpin while she dozed in the bed, listening to their quiet voices. The second day she'd managed to stay awake and play a game or two against him. Much to her amazement he'd won more games than her. He had a fine strategic mind. She'd also asked him questions about his time as a mercenary and he'd regaled her with tales of battle and life as a soldier until she'd begun to nod off. Then he'd urged her to lie down and had tucked the linens and furs around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead before settling into his furs on the floor next to her. Saidh had lain silently for a bit, then turned onto her side. She'd been just drifting off to sleep when she'd felt his hand clasp hers where it rested on the edge of the bed.

  Last night the three of them had played games, laughed and chatted for hours before exhaustion had again made her settle in bed and snuggle down to sleep. He had again tucked the furs about her and settled onto his pallet. He'd also taken her hand again and Saidh had drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.

  "Besides," Alpin continued, unaware of how his comment had affected her. "I've been thinking."

  Forcing herself to start forward again, Saidh murmured, "Oh? And what ha'e ye been thinking?"

  "Well, me ma and da are both very proper. Ye'd ne'er catch me ma cussing or wearing braies under her gown," he assured her in a dry voice as he led her around a corner to the left. "As fer me da, he ne'er loses his temper or swears either. But . . ."

  "But?" she prompted curiously.

  "Well, they are me parents, so 'tis probably a sin fer me to say this, but they're no' good nobles."

  Saidh remained silent, not sure what to say to encourage the boy to continue. Sharing a sickbed with the boy, she'd seen the scars on Alpin's back and knew someone had whipped him viciously and repeatedly. She was positive Greer would never do it, so could only think it must have been his parents.

  "Me mother seems sweet. She simpers and keeps her eyes lowered. She is always proper in company. But she lies near every time she opens her mouth and she's definitely less than proper when she raises her skirts for me da's first."

  Saidh stopped walking again, her jaw dropping in shock.

  "As fer me da, I ha'e ne'er e'er heard a cuss slip from his lips, and he ne'er loses his temper, e'en the time I accidentally broke his favorite inkwell, which was a gift from the king and one o' his most prized possessions. He just smiled coldly, grabbed his whip and punished me, the whole time just smiling that cold smile. Then he ordered one o' the maids to clean the blood away and put some salve on me back and walked away."

  Saidh's mouth tightened at this and she continued walking again, thinking that if she ever met the boy's father--

  "And I ken he lies too. He has made deals with others and not held up his side o' the bargain. He cheats our villeins all the time and there is naught they can do about it." He sighed unhappily and shook his head. "Laird Greer would ne'er do that, and these last six months since me father convinced him to take me on as squire he's ne'er raised a hand or whip to me either. Not e'en the time I near killed his horse by feeding him green apples. And he loves his horse," he assured her, glancing over his shoulder to meet her gaze for emphasis.

  Saidh nodded in acknowledgment. She wasn't surprised to hear that Greer was fond of his stallion. She had had her mare for several years now and loved her dearly.

  "So, after thinking on it," Alpin continued, "it occurs to me that proper behavior does no' make a good laird or lady. It does no' make them kind or brave or good to their people, and it does seem to me that being good is more important than no' wearing braies or cussing."

  "I see," Saidh murmured with a faint smile. "So ye've decided to forgive me me lack as a lady."

  "That's just it," Alpin paused and turned to face her in the narrow space to say earnestly, "Ye are a fine lady, m'lady."

  Saidh snorted at the suggestion and waved at him to continue, but he stayed stubbornly where he was and told her, "Yer brothers and m'laird all stayed at our bedside the first two nights, refusing to leave ye."

  Saidh nodded. Greer had mentioned something about that the morn she'd woken up. He'd also said they'd talked so she wasn't surprised when he continued.

  "And yer brothers spent a lot o' time talking about ye, telling tales about the things ye'd done and such. How ye nursed yer mother during the illness that took her life, tending her yerself rather than let her maid do it. How ye whipped the smithy at Buchanan when ye found out he was beating his wife and children. How ye jumped in the moat after a village girl who had tumbled in, and saved her life. How ye snuck food and coin to a young villager with child when ye learned her husband had died leaving her with naught." He paused and shook his head. "And I could tell ye did no' like the gown Lady MacDonnell insisted ye wear to the wedding, but ye wore it anyway, just to please her."

  Uncomfortable under his admiration, Saidh shrugged. " 'Twas the right thing to do."

  "Aye. But no' e'ery so-called lady would think so. Me own mother once fired a new maid because she decided she was too ugly to ha'e to look at. And she is mean as can be to me gran. I ken she would ne'er nurse her were she to fall ill." He nodded firmly. "Ye may curse and wear braies under yer gown, and ye may carry a sword and fight like a man, but ye've a noble heart, and are a true lady fer all that."

  Saidh grimaced and turned her head away, embarrassed to find herself having to blink away a sudden welling of liquid in her eyes. Good Lord, she could take an arrow to the chest without shedding a tear, but a pain-in-the-arse boy gives her a compliment and she turns into a weeping female. Disgusting, she thought with a little irritation.

  Sighing, she glanced back to Alpin and gestured for him to continue. "We'd best keep moving, else me brothers'll wake ere we even make it out o' the castle."

  Nodding, Alpin turned and started forward again. Saidh followed, but after a moment of silence said, "I'm glad ye no longer think I'll be a poor wife to yer laird, Alpin. And I think ye're a fine squire to him as well."

  "I try m'lady," he assured her. "Although I think me lecturing him on h
ow to be a proper laird most like annoys him."

  "Nay, he likes it," Saidh said with amusement.

  "Really?" he asked glancing back again.

  Saidh nodded, and then realizing the light from the torch didn't reach her and he probably couldn't see her nodding her head, she said, "Aye. Think on it, Alpin. Did he no' like it, do ye think ye'd still be his squire?" She smiled faintly, and added, "Besides, 'tis probably good fer us. We could both use a little polishing."

  "Oh," Alpin breathed and turned to continue walking again, moving more quickly now. "Then I shall continue to endeavor to help."

  Saidh merely smiled to herself. She suspected the boy would have continued to endeavor to help anyway. She doubted he could help himself. Fortunately, she was growing fond of the boy and didn't mind the idea of his nattering at her. They reached the stairs quickly and moved cautiously down them.

  "There is an entrance here to the kitchens," Alpin whispered as they reached level ground again. Raising his torch, he pointed to a wooden lever in the wall. "See that lever there?"

  "Aye," Saidh whispered leaning back against the wall of the passage. She was relieved to be done with the stairs. While she'd felt fine and fit lying and sitting about in bed, she found the small walk and traversing the stairs had wearied her.

  "If ye pull on it, the wall slides in and ye can slip into the kitchens."

  "Good to ken," Saidh murmured. "How much further is the entrance to the gardens?"

  "This way," Alpin said, which wasn't really an answer to the question, Saidh thought but didn't say so, and merely followed when he continued forward. However, she was nearly ready to call a halt and request that they rest when he finally stopped several minutes later. Sighing with relief, she leaned against the wall again and watched as he set the torch in a sconce in the wall.

  "Are ye feeling all right?" she asked with concern when she noted that he had to use both hands to lift the torch and that they were trembling a little.

  "Aye. Just tired," he admitted and then added with irritation, " 'Tis a ridiculously long passage."

  Saidh gave a small laugh. "I suspect it did no' seem so long when me husband showed ye through it the first time?"

  "Nay," he agreed, sounding surprised.

  Pushing herself away from the wall, she patted his arm and reached for the lever to open the door herself. "We are both still weak. We need to build our strength back up and lying about in bed is no' likely to do that. A bit o' sun and fresh air will help though."

  "Let us hope so. We still ha'e to travel back up those stairs, and I suspect going back up'll no' be as easy as coming down," he said unhappily.

  "We can rest on the way back up if necessary," Saidh reassured him and then stepped back as she pulled the lever and the wall opened inward. Fresh air immediately rushed through the opening and they both inhaled deeply.

  "I feel better a'ready," Alpin announced and she could see his grin in the sunlight pouring through the doorway.

  Smiling, she leaned out to peek about and be sure there was no one nearby. Finding this part of the gardens empty, she relaxed and stepped out into sunlight and fresh air for the first time since being shot.

  "Oh," Alpin breathed as he followed her. His gaze slid over the fruit trees that filled this end of the garden and he sighed happily. " 'Tis like entering paradise."

  Saidh chuckled at the words, but silently admitted that he was right. Blue skies, bright sunlight, green grass, apple trees, and singing birds . . . it was like paradise. Funny how, after a few days without it, they now recognized the beauty they normally took for granted. Striding forward, she moved to the lower branches of the nearest tree. "Apple?"

  "Aye, please!" Alpin almost hopped up and down with excitement. She suspected he actually would were he not so tired.

  Reaching up, she plucked two of the ripest apples she could see among those low enough for her to reach, then walked over to hand him one. "Where shall we sit to eat them?"

  "In the shade o' the tree," Alpin decided and led her back under the branches to settle against the trunk of the tree.

  Saidh sat down next to him and they fell silent as they ate their apples.

  "How long do ye think yer brothers'll sleep?" Alpin asked suddenly.

  Considering the question, Saidh tossed her apple core away, and then stifled a yawn before admitting, "I'm no' sure. An hour or two. Why?"

  "I was just thinking it would be nice to nap here under the tree," he admitted with a chagrined expression.

  Saidh chuckled softly at the admission, but understood his embarrassment. She would not mind napping here either. Which meant they'd gone to all this trouble to escape the bedchamber only to sleep in the grass. Shaking her head, she pointed out, "Geordie and Alick may sleep for an hour or two, but that does no' mean Aulay or Dougall may no' go up to check on us ere that."

  "Aye," Alpin agreed on a little sigh as he tossed his own finished apple aside. "For all we ken they may already ha'e done so and discovered us missing."

  "Nay," Saidh assured him. "Were that the case, we'd ha'e heard Aulay bellowing at Geordie and Alick fer letting us escape."

  "All the way from here?" Alpin asked dubiously.

  "Aulay's fair loud when he wants to be," she said dryly and then suggested reluctantly, "I suppose we should think about heading back in now."

  "Already?" Alpin groaned.

  "I suspect it'll take us much longer to mount the stairs than it did to come down them," she said quietly. "Especially if we ha'e to stop and rest a time or two."

  "Oh, aye," Alpin said on a sigh, and then asked, "But can we come out again tomorrow?"

  "If ye help me sneak more o' Rory's sleeping tincture, we can," she said as they both stood up.

  "His satchel is probably in his room. We could stop and sneak some now, on the way back to the master bedchamber," Alpin suggested as he watched her brush down her skirts to remove any grass or leaves that may have attached themselves to her. "That would save us ha'ing to try to distract him later."

  "Is there an entrance to his room from the passage?" she asked with surprise as she straightened.

  "There's an entrance to e'ery room on that side o' the hall."

  Saidh considered the setup of the upper floor and then frowned. "Windows."

  "What about them?" Alpin asked, tilting his head curiously.

  "The passage is along the outer wall, but there are windows there," she explained, "How--"

  "The passage floor is six or seven feet below the windows. The floor o' the passage slants downwards when ye first step out o' the master bedchamber. Did ye no' notice?"

  "Nay," she admitted, a little surprised that she'd missed that detail.

  "There are stairs from the other rooms, very narrow stairs cut into the stone, but because it starts on the side wall and then turns to follow along the outer wall, they just slanted the floor for the entrance to the master's bedchamber."

  "Hmmm," Saidh murmured and decided she'd have to pay closer attention on the way back in. Shrugging, she glanced to him and raised an eyebrow. "Ready?"

  He snorted at the question. "I ha'e been waiting fer you. Are ye done fussing with yer gown?"

  Saidh wrinkled her nose at the lad, and placed a hand at his back to urge him toward the still open passageway. "Ye'd do well with a bit o' fussing o' yer own. Ye've a leaf stuck to yer arse. 'Twill gi'e us away do me brothers see it."

  "Nay!" Alpin stopped walking and turned to try to see his backside as he brushed at it. "Is it gone? Did I get it?"

  Saidh grinned to herself with amusement and continued walking toward the passage entrance. She'd only been teasing him. There was no leaf on his plaid.

  "Saidh!"

  She thought he'd realized her trick when he yelled her name, so was taken completely by surprise when he slammed into her back, sending her crashing forward. Her head hit and bounced off the castle wall as she was plastered against it by his weight. The blow sent up a roaring in her skull that nearly blocked out the sound
of Alpin's grunt of pain and the thud of something heavy hitting the ground behind them.

  "What?" she began with confusion, raising one hand instinctively to her forehead and pressing the other against the castle wall as she tried to push away from it. But Alpin was still pressed to her back . . . and then she felt him begin to slide to the ground behind her.

  Forgetting about her head, she glanced around and tried to grab at him. Her eyes widened in alarm when she caught a glimpse of bright red blood on his back.

  "Alpin?" she said sharply and then spotted the collection of large stones on the ground directly behind him. It looked like one of the merlons had come down from the battlement along the top of the castle wall . . . and Alpin had received a glancing blow by the stones as they fell. Actually, she would have been crushed by them had he not suddenly crashed into her, Saidh realized as she saw where the stones rested. He'd saved her life . . . and been injured in the process.

  Cursing, she released her hold on Alpin and let him slip to rest against the backs of her legs. She then shifted out from between him and the wall as carefully as she could before turning and dropping to her knees to examine him. He had landed crumpled on the ground and she could see that it wasn't just his back that had been injured, for there was blood on the back of his head as well.

  Mouth tightening, she turned him over. He had been terribly pale ever since the fever had felled him, but now he was as white as death.

  "Alpin?" she said, patting his cheek gently. When she got no response, Saidh glanced around in the hopes that one of the servants may have come out into the garden in search of an herb or vegetable for the sup, but it was empty. She had to get him help herself, but feared leaving him there on his own. What if another merlon fell?

  She wasn't taking that chance. She'd have to take him to help. That wouldn't have been a problem a week ago, she would have merely hefted him over her shoulder and carried him around to the kitchens. But right now she wasn't sure she had the strength to heft a kitten over her shoulder. Hell, just getting her own weight back up the stairs had seemed like a major undertaking moments ago; carting around a boy who must weigh four or five stone . . .

  Grinding her teeth with frustration, Saidh turned back to Alpin and set to work.