"MacBain promised me a wedding," he announced. "He's not a man to go back on his word."
"No, he isn't," Nicholas agreed. "There will be a wedding."
The laird looked appeased. He grunted low in his throat and gave a brisk nod.
"Papa, there isn't…"
"Be silent, lass, while I get my particulars," her father ordered. He kept his gaze centered on Nicholas. "And who is my future son-in-law?"
"I am."
Laird MacKay's mouth dropped open. His eyes looked as though they were going to bulge right out of his face. He shook his head in denial and took a step back in an attempt to distance himself from the Englishman.
"No!" he bellowed.
Nicholas wouldn't let the laird retreat. "Yes," he answered, his voice emphatic.
Clare grabbed hold of Nicholas's tunic and tried to pull him back. "Are you crazed?" she asked.
Johanna nudged Keith out of her way and hurried over to Clare's side. "Let go of him," she ordered.
Clare started to protest the outrageous pledge Nicholas had just given her father, but Johanna stopped her by grabbing hold of her hand and demanding in a whisper that she wait until later to argue.
"Is it a trick then?" Clare asked, thinking Nicholas might be giving the rash promise in order to stall for time.
"It could be," Johanna allowed, knowing full well her brother never said anything he didn't mean. He was going to marry Clare MacKay all right, and from the set look on his face, no one was going to stop him, not even a reluctant bride.
"You're English," the laird shouted. "It's unthinkable."
Nicholas didn't seem to be at all affected by the old man's fury. He actually smiled when he said, "I won't require a substantial dowry."
"Clare MacKay, you might as well have taken a dagger and plunged it into your father's very own heart," the laird wailed.
"But, Father…"
"Be silent."
Nicholas snapped the command. He didn't take his gaze off Clare's father when he gave his order. He waited for the angry old warrior to either pounce on him or gain control of himself.
Johanna tried to soothe Clare, but it was difficult for her to pay attention to what she was doing and keep her attention on the laird at the same time. She was mesmerized by the man's behavior. Lairds didn't weep, but this one looked like he was going to break down and cry at any moment. He was certainly having difficulty accepting Nicholas's announcement.
"An English baron wed to my daughter? I'll die first, I will."
Johanna quit rubbing Clare's shoulder and stepped forward. "A very rich baron," she blurted out.
The laird frowned at Johanna with what she thought was indignation. "Wealth is not an issue here," he muttered. "How rich?"
They were married an hour later.
There wasn't time for a celebration. Father MacKechnie had only just blessed the union when Michael came running into the great hall. He was looking for Keith or Nicholas to give his news.
He spotted the baron first. "One of our soldiers doing border patrol has just arrived with the news," he said. "English soldiers were spotted coming onto our land. It's an army, Baron, and only an hour away from the keep."
"How many were sighted?" Keith demanded.
"Too many to ever count," Michael told him.
Nicholas let out a roar so forceful and so filled with fury, the sound surely reached the Lowlands.
He had been betrayed by his king. The bond between vassal and overlord was destroyed. John had lied to his baron, for he hadn't sent a messenger and escort. He'd sent an army.
The keep would be under siege in less than an hour's time. Keith immediately took charge of readying the area for attack by posting guards all along the walls, and Nicholas took on the responsibility of leading a contingent of men down the ridge to meet the English soldiers in a flanking attack.
Laird MacKay was told to go home before the fight began. He refused the order and mounted his horse to ride by his son-in-law's side. He told one of his men to ride like lightning back to his own holding and gather his considerable troops. Nicholas was damned thankful for the old man's interference. He knew they were going to need every fighting man available.
Clare couldn't seem to make up her mind if she wanted to get hysterical because she was now married to an Englishman or if she wanted to be helpful in the battle against the intruders. Then Nicholas turned to leave, and Clare picked up her skirts and ran after him.
"Don't you dare make me a widow, Baron," she demanded. "I'm wanting an annulment, not a funeral."
Nicholas reached his stallion, grabbed the reins in one hand, and then turned to his bride. "You won't be getting either," he announced.
She didn't know what to say to him next. Nicholas stared at her for a long minute, then decided he'd wasted enough time on his new bride. He started to turn away.
"Wait."
"Yes?"
Words still eluded her. And so she simply threw herself into his arms. Nicholas knew what to do next. He let go of the reins, wrapped his arms around his trembling bride, and gave her a kiss filled with promise, commitment, and a fair amount of lust.
"You look like a boy with your hair cut so short, but you sure as hell kiss like a woman, Clare MacKay."
She forgot how to breathe. She couldn't seem to gather her wits about her until her husband was riding away.
"Take care of him, Papa!" she shouted.
"I will, lass. Get yourself inside and stay there."
Clare turned to do just that when she spotted Johanna running across the yard. "Johanna, where are you going? It isn't safe for you to stay out here."
Johanna wasn't listening. She ran all the way to Auggie's cottage. She was crying by the time she got there.
Alex took one look at his mother and started wailing. She picked the child up and hugged him tight.
"Auggie, take Alex up to my chamber. I'm making you responsible for him. Don't let any harm come to him. Promise me."
"I promise you," he said. "And where will you be while I'm looking out for the boy?"
"There isn't time for me to explain," she answered. "King John has sent an army four times the size of our own."
"We've survived before, lass. We'll survive again."
The price was too dear to pay for Johanna to be reasonable. She didn't want a single man to die because of her fight with England's king. She believed she was the only one who could avert a massacre.
"The king betrayed my brother," she said. "He used trickery, Auggie, and so I will use the truth to stop this before it's too late."
Johanna kissed Alex and handed him to Auggie. "Go," she whispered. "I must know both of you will be safe."
"If it gets too threatening, I'll take the boy and hide. I'll bring him back when it's finished."
"How will you get outside the walls?"
"I have my ways," Auggie boasted. "Quit your crying, boy. We're on an adventure now. Let's fetch your wooden sword and have our own battle."
Johanna stayed inside Auggie's cottage for several minutes. She knelt down and said a prayer for courage.
She finished her petitions, made the sign of the cross, and then stood up. Clare and Keith were both standing in the doorway, watching her.
"They're swarming up the hill's m'lady." Keith announced. "We're going to have to find a way to get you out of here. We can't defend ourselves against such numbers."
Clare was trying not to cry. "Papa and Nicholas are both going to get killed. I've never seen so many soldiers, Johanna. I don't know what we will do."
"I have a plan," Johanna announced. "They're here to fetch me, aren't they? Keith, you will simply give me to them."
He shook his head. "I cannot, m'lady."
"You don't have a choice in the matter," she countered. "Listen carefully. We were taken by surprise, isn't that so?"
She waited for his nod before continuing. "If we'd had time to prepare, what would you have done?"
"Called up our allies," Keith
replied. "And when they arrived, we would outnumber the enemy. Even now the word is being passed through the Highlands, for the sight of such a vast army would be spread like wildfire. Most of our allies are to the north, however, and they are probably only just now hearing the news. They'll come."
"But it will be too late, won't it?"
"There is always hope, m'lady."
"There is also a better plan," she replied. "If I willingly go to the English soldiers, they will retreat."
"They'll take you back to England!" Clare cried out.
"They will if Keith cannot mount an attack in time. How long before you can gather enough men?"
"A single full day," he answered.
"Gabriel hasn't reached England yet. He will have heard. Add him to your numbers."
Johanna continued to try to make the commander listen to reason. Keith wouldn't agree with her plan, however, and kept insisting he would give up his life to keep her safe.
And so she resorted to trickery to get her way. She pretended to give in. Keith asked her to go back to the great hall and wait there with Clare until he sent men to sneak the two of them out of the keep.
Johanna nodded agreement. She started up the hill with Clare at her side, but just as soon as Keith had regained his mount and ridden away, she turned to her friend.
"You've going to have to help me," she announced. "You know it's the only way, Clare. I won't be harmed."
"You can't know that, Johanna," Clare whispered with fear. "What about your baby?"
"We'll be all right. Raulf doesn't know I'm carrying, and the pleats in my plaid hide my condition." She nodded again. "We'll be all right."
"And if Baron Raulf is leading the army? How will you keep him from hurting you?"
"I have not forgotten how to cower," Johanna replied. Her voice was filled with sadness. "And I will try not to incite his anger. Clare, I love my brother and all these good men here. I cannot let them die because of me."
"Dear God, I don't know what to do."
"Please help me."
Clare was finally swayed. She gave a quick nod. "Aren't you frightened, Johanna?"
"Oh, yes," Johanna answered. "But I'm not overwhelmed with it. In my heart, I know it's a sound plan. Gabriel will find me."
Tears streamed down Clare's face. She forced a smile to hide her terror. "I wish I had someone like Gabriel who I could love and trust."
"Oh, Clare, you do. Nicholas is every bit as gentle and good as my husband."
Her friend's smile became genuine then. "Dear Lord, I forgot I was married," she blurted out. "Come now. We must get you out of here before I also forget I have courage."
The two women turned direction and ran toward the back entrance to the stables. Twenty minutes later, and after considerable subterfuge and plain sneakery, Johanna rode out of the keep and down the steep hill.
She was going back to hell again. Yet when she spotted Raulf riding toward her, her heart didn't stop beating and her stomach didn't twist in agony.
Johanna wasn't terrified now; she was determined. She had a sound plan.
She had Gabriel.
Chapter 21
They took her to the Gillevrey keep. Raulf and his army had crossed the clan's border and immediately found themselves under attack. The Highlander soldiers were courageous in battle, but Laird MacKay's evaluation was proven true. They were a poorly trained group of men, and it had only taken the English infidels one day to conquer the land and the castle.
Laird Gillevrey and thirty of his men were locked away in the cellars below the great hall. The other clansmen were being held in the soldiers' quarters in the lower bailey.
Johanna's surrender had been swift. She rode down the hill and into the jaws of the enemy. They enveloped and surrounded her.
Although she was just a scant foot or two away from Raulf, she didn't speak to him. She simply sat atop her mount with her hands folded together and waited to see what he would do.
Raulf was dressed in full knight's battlewear, but his head was covered with the old-fashioned open conical helmet. He preferred it over the modern fully enclosed gear. He'd told her his vision was improved. She believed vanity was the true reason.
It was difficult for her to look at him. His appearance hadn't changed much. His eves were just as green, his complexion was still unscarred, and there were only a few added age lines creasing his narrow cheeks now. Then he took his helmet off, and she realized there had been a dramatic change after all. His hair had been the color of wheat when she'd last seen him. It was white now.
"We will go home now, Johanna, and all this will be put behind us."
"Yes," she immediately agreed.
Her answer pleased him. He nudged his mount close to her side and reached over to touch her face.
"You have grown more beautiful," he remarked. "I've missed you, my love."
Johanna couldn't look at him now, for she was certain he would see the disgust in her eyes. She bowed her head in what she prayed looked like submission.
Raulf was apparently satisfied. He put his helmet back on, turned his mount, and then gave the order to ride.
They didn't stop for water or rest and reached the Gillevrey holding late that afternoon.
Johanna immediately pleaded exhaustion. Raulf escorted her inside. The entrance was narrow. Steps leading upstairs were directly in front of her. To the right was the hall. It was a large room, square in dimensions, and the balcony above surrounded it on all sides. Johanna was disheartened by that notice, for she knew if she was kept upstairs, she couldn't sneak out the door without being spotted by the guards in the hall.
She was given the third chamber. The door was in the center of the balcony. Raulf opened the door for her. She kept her head bowed and tried to hurry past him. He grabbed hold of her arm and tried to kiss her. She wouldn't let him. She turned her head away.
He roughly pulled her into his arms and hugged her. His hands toyed with her hair.
"Did they make you cut your hair?"
She didn't answer him. "Of course they did," he decided. "You never would have willingly cut your hair, for you surely remember how much I liked it."
"I did remember," she whispered.
He let out a sigh. "It will grow again."
"Yes."
Raulf suddenly tightened his hold on her. "Why did you get our marriage annulled?"
The pain he was inflicting upon her made her flinch. "The king wanted me to marry Baron Williams. I demanded an annulment to stall for time. I didn't believe you were dead."
Her answer satisfied Raulf. "John didn't tell me Williams wanted you for wife. The bastard did lust after you, didn't he? And you never did like him much."
"I'm very sleepy," she blurted out. "I don't feel at all well."
Raulf finally let go of her. "The excitement has been too much for you. You were always weak, Johanna, and only I know how to take care of you. Go to bed now. I won't bother you tonight. I put one of your gowns on the bed. You will wear it tomorrow. When you join me downstairs, I will have a surprise for you."
He finally left her alone. The door had a lock, but the key had been removed. She would have to find something to block the entrance, she decided. She didn't trust Raulf to leave her alone; and if he did sneak into the chamber during the night, she would be prepared. If he tried to touch her, she would kill him… or die trying.
Johanna had been in complete control of her emotions until now; and although she was exhausted from the strain, she was still feeling proud of herself because she hadn't allowed her anger or her fear to gain the upper hand. It was her sole duty to protect her baby from harm until Gabriel came to fetch her. Yes, that was her only duty.
Messengers had left to chase down Gabriel as soon as the English army had been spotted. Johanna prayed the clansmen wouldn't have to go all the way to London to catch up with their laird.
The MacBain allies were surely preparing to ride now, too, she decided. Why, by tomorrow night or the night a
fter, she would certainly be rescued.
Johanna set about defending her little chamber from attack. She pushed an empty chest over to the door to block it. She knew it wouldn't keep anyone from breaking in. but she hoped the sound when the chest was moved would wake her up if she accidentally fell asleep.
She hurried over to the window, pulled the fur covering back, and looked down. Then she muttered an expletive. There wouldn't be any escape possible through the opening. It was a straight drop two stories down, and the rock wall was too smooth to find handholds to climb down.
The room was cold and damp. She was suddenly so weary she needed to sit down. She removed her belt and wrapped herself in her plaid. Then she went over to the bed.
She spotted the gown spread out upon the covers. Recognition was swift. Her weariness vanished, and fury such as she'd never known before flooded her. She was consumed by it, and all she wanted to do was scream as loud as a warrior would when he rode into battle.
It was her wedding gown. The shoes she'd worn were there too, she noticed, and the ribbons, dear God, the ribbons she'd entwined in her hair were spread out on the covers as well.
"He's demented," she whispered.
And determined, she silently added. He'd told her he had a surprise for her in the morning, and now she fully understood what he planned. The fool actually believed he was going to marry her again.
Johanna was literally shaking with rage when she reached for the gown. She hurled it across the chamber. The ribbons and shoes went flying next.
Her anger quickly drained the rest of her strength. Johanna stretched out on the bed, pulled her plaid up over her head, took her dagger out of the sheath she'd tied with string around her thigh, and held the weapon in both hands.
She fell asleep minutes later.
The scraping noise the chest made when it was moved across the stone floor woke her up. Sunlight streamed into the chamber from the sides of the fur covering the window. Johanna had dropped her dagger sometime during the night. She found it in a fold of the plaid and was ready to strike when she sat up.
"May I enter m'lady?"