Saving Grace

  He patiently asked her again. "Almost four weeks," she blurted out.

  He didn't laugh. One of the soldiers snorted with amusement, but MacBain's glare stopped him.

  Nicholas was frowning down at his sister, wondering why she hadn't told the laird the truth. It had been closer to four months since Father MacKechnie began instructing her. He caught the look of panic in his sister's eyes when she glanced up at him and he understood then. Johanna was simply too nervous to think straight.

  MacBain decided he didn't want an audience during this important meeting.

  "Nicholas, wait here. Your sister and I are going inside to talk."

  After giving his command, MacBain moved forward to take hold of Johanna's arm. The hound came with him. She instinctively backed up, realized what she was doing and how that cowardly retreat must have looked to the laird, and quickly moved forward again.

  The huge beast growled at her. MacBain snapped an order in Gaelic. The hound immediately quit the low, menacing sound.

  Johanna was looking ready to faint again. Nicholas knew she needed a bit of time to get her courage back. He took a step forward. "Why didn't you allow my men and Father MacKechnie past Rush Creek?" he asked.

  "Your sister and I must come to terms before the priest is allowed here. Your men won't ever be allowed on our land, Nicholas. Have you forgotten my terms? We went over the details when you were last here."

  Nicholas agreed with a nod. He couldn't think of anything further to ask.

  "Father MacKechnie was very upset over your command to wait below," Johanna said.

  MacBain didn't appear to be overly concerned about alienating a man of God. He shrugged. Her eyes widened in reaction. During the three years of her marriage to Raulf, she'd learned to fear priests; the ones she had known were powerful and unforgiving men. Yet MacKechnie wasn't like the others. He was a kind-hearted man who had risked his life to come to England so that he could plead for the Maclaurins.

  She wouldn't have him insulted now. "Father MacKechnie is weary from the long journey, m'lord, and would surely appreciate food and drink. Please show him your hospitality."

  MacBain nodded. He turned to Calum. "See to it," he commanded.

  He thought his agreement over her request would ease her fears about him. He had just proven he could be an accommodating man, after all. Yet she still appeared ready to bolt. Damn but she was a timid thing. His pet wasn't helping matters much. She kept worriedly glancing down at the dog, and every time she stared at him, the hound growled at her.

  MacBain considered grabbing hold of her, tossing her over his shoulder, and carrying her inside, then changed his mind. The thought amused him, but he didn't smile. He held his patience, put his hand out to her, and simply waited to see what she would do.

  From the look in his eyes, she knew he had guessed she was afraid of him and that he was finding her timidity amusing, too. She forced herself to take a deep breath, then put her hand in his.

  He was huge everywhere. His hand was at least twice the size of her own, and he certainly must have felt her trembling. He was a laird, however, and she assumed he would never have attained that position of power without gaining a few gentlemanly manners along the way, and she therefore assumed he wouldn't mention her shameful condition.

  "Why are you shaking?"

  She tried to pull her hand away. He wouldn't let go. He had her now, and he wasn't about to let her get away.

  Before Johanna could come up with a suitable explanation to his question, he turned and pulled her along up the steps and through the doorway.

  "Because of your unusual weather," she blurted out.

  "Our what?" He looked confused.

  "Never mind, Laird."

  "Explain what you meant," he commanded.

  She sighed. "Nicholas explained that the weather here is warm all year around… I thought he'd told you about his…" She started to say lie, then changed her mind. The laird might not understand how amused she'd been over her brother's outrageous fabrication about the Highlands.

  "His what?" MacBain asked, curious over her sudden blush.

  "He said it was unusual to have such cold winds here," she said.

  MacBain almost burst into laughter. He caught himself in time. The weather was actually unusually warm for this time of year.

  He didn't even smile. The lass had already shown she had tender feelings, and he didn't suppose laughing at her naivete would soften her attitude toward him.

  "And you believe everything your brother tells you?" he asked.

  "Yes, of course," she answered so that he would know she was thoroughly loyal to her brother.

  "I see."

  "The cold is the reason I am trembling," she said for lack of a better lie to tell.

  "No, it isn't."

  "It isn't?"

  "You're afraid of me."

  He waited for her to lie to him again. She surprised him with the truth. "Yes," she announced. "I'm afraid of you. I'm afraid of your hound, too."

  "Your answers please me."

  He finally let go of her. She was so surprised by his remark she forgot to let go of his hand.

  "It pleases you to know I fear you?"

  He smiled. "I already knew you feared me, Johanna. I'm pleased because you admitted it. You could have lied."

  "You would have known I was lying."

  "Yes."

  He sounded terribly arrogant, but she wasn't offended-she expected arrogance in a man as big and ferocious look ing as this warrior. She realized she was holding onto him then and immediately let go. Then she turned to look around the entrance. To the right was a wide staircase with an ornately carved wooden railing. A hallway led behind the staircase, and on the left of the entryway was the great hail. It was in ruins. Johanna stood on the top step and stared at the devastation. The walls were charred from fire, and the roof above the hall, what little there was left of it, hung down in a long strip to rest against the blackened sides. The smell of old smoke still lingered in the air.

  Johanna went down the steps and crossed the room. She was so disheartened by the sight of the destruction, she felt like weeping.

  MacBain watched the change in her expression as she looked around the room.

  "My husband's men did this, didn't they?"

  "Yes."

  She turned to look at him. The sadness in her eyes actually pleased him. She was a woman with a conscience.

  "A terrible injustice was done here."

  "That is true," he agreed. "But you weren't responsible."

  "I could have tried to plead with my husband…"

  "I doubt he would have listened to you," MacBain announced. "Tell me something, Johanna. Did he know his vassal was causing such havoc here, or was he ignorant?"

  "He knew what Marshall was capable of," she replied.

  MacBain nodded. He clasped his hands behind his back and continued to stare at her. "You tried to right the injustice," he remarked. "You sent your brother here after Marshall."

  "My husband's vassal had become a demigod. He didn't wish to hear the news that Raulf was dead and he was no longer needed here."

  "He was never needed here." MacBain's voice had taken on a hard edge.

  She nodded agreement. "No, he was never needed here."

  He let out a sigh. "Marshall had found power. Very few men can give that up."

  "Could you?"

  He was surprised by her question. He started to answer yes, of course he could, but he was new to his position as laird and honestly didn't know if he could step down or not.

  "I've yet to be tested," he admitted. "I would hope, if it was for the good of the clan, I could do whatever was asked of me, but I cannot say for certain until I'm faced with such a challenge."

  His honesty impressed her, and she smiled. "Nicholas was angry with you because Marshall had slipped away and you wouldn't let him go after him. He said the two of you argued, then you struck him into a sound sleep. When he next opened his eyes, M
arshall was in a heap at his feet."

  MacBain smiled. Nicholas had certainly softened the bloody tale.

  "You're going to marry me, Johanna."

  He sounded emphatic. He wasn't smiling now. Johanna braced herself against his anger and then slowly shook her head.

  "Explain the reason behind your hesitation," he commanded.

  She shook her head at him again. MacBain wasn't used to being contradicted, but he tried not to let his impatience show. He knew he wasn't very skilled in conversation with women. He certainly didn't know how to woo the fairer sex, and he knew he was making a muck out of this discussion.

  Why in God's name had Johanna been given the choice in the first place? Nicholas simply should have told her she was going to get married, and that would have been the end of it. This discussion shouldn't even be taking place. Damn it all, they should be in the middle of their wedding ceremony, exchanging their vows.

  "I don't like timid women."

  Johanna's shoulders straightened. "I'm not timid," she announced. "I've learned to be cautious, m'lord, but I have never, ever been timid."

  "I see." He didn't believe her.

  "I don't like big men, even handsome ones."

  "You think me handsome?"

  How had he managed to turn her words into a compliment? He seemed surprised, too, as though he really wasn't aware of his own appeal. "You misunderstand, sir," she told him. "Being handsome is a mark against you." She ignored his incredulous expression and repeated, "And I especially dislike big men."

  She knew she sounded ridiculous. She didn't care. She wasn't about to back down now. She looked him right in the eye while she folded her arms across her middle and frowned up at him. Her neck was already getting a crick in it from looking up.

  "What think you of my opinion, m'lord?"

  The challenge was there in her stance and her tone of voice. She was bravely standing up to him now. He had the sudden urge to laugh again.

  He sighed instead. "They're daft opinions," he told her, being as blunt as possible.

  "Perhaps," she agreed. "But it doesn't change how I feel."

  MacBain decided he had wasted enough time on the discussion. It was high time she understood what was going to happen.

  "It's a fact you aren't leaving here. You're staying with me, Johanna. We're going to be married tomorrow. That isn't an opinion by the way. It's fact."

  "You would marry me against my will?"

  "I would."

  Hell, she looked terrified again. That reaction didn't sit well with him. He tried to use reason once again to gain her cooperation. He wasn't an ogre after all. He could be reasonable.

  "Have you changed your mind in the past few minutes and now want to go back to England? Nicholas told me leaving England appealed to you."

  "No, I haven't changed my mind, but…"

  "Can you afford to pay the fine your king demands to stay unwed?"

  "No."

  "Is it Baron Williams? Nicholas mentioned to me that the Englishman wanted to marry you." He didn't give her time to answer. "It doesn't matter. I won't let you leave. No other man is going to have you."

  "I don't prefer Baron Williams."

  "I take it from the disgust in your voice this baron is also a handsome giant?"

  "He's handsome only if you find pigs attractive, m'lord, and he's a small man in size with an even smaller mind. He is completely unacceptable to me."

  "I see," MacBain drawled out. "So you dislike both large and small men. Have I got that right?"

  "You're making fun of me."

  "No, I'm making fun of your daft statements. Nicholas is just as big as I am," he reminded her.

  "Yes, but my brother would never hurt me."

  The truth was out. She'd blurted out the words before she could stop herself. MacBain raised one eyebrow in reaction to the telling statement.

  Johanna turned her gaze to the floor but not before he saw her blush.

  "Please try to understand, Laird. If a pup bit me, I would have a fair chance of surviving, but if a wolf bit me, I don't believe I would have any chance at all."

  She was trying so damned hard to be brave and failing miserably. Her terror was real and, MacBain speculated, learned from past experiences.

  Long minutes passed in silence. MacBain stared at her. She stared at the floor.

  "Did your husband…"

  "I will not talk about him."

  He had his answer. He took a step toward her. She didn't back away. He put his hands on her shoulders and commanded her to look up at him. She took her time obeying.

  His voice was a low, gruff whisper when he spoke. "Johanna?"

  "Yes, m'lord?"

  "I don't bite."

  Chapter 4

  They were married the following afternoon. MacBain agreed to wait that long so Father MacKechnie could prepare for the ceremony.

  It was the only issue he was willing to bend on, however. Johanna wanted to return to the campsite and stay the night in her own tent near her brother, the priest, and her loyal men. Laird MacBain wouldn't hear of it. He ordered her to sleep in one of the newly built cottages along the hill, a tiny one-room affair with a single window and a stone hearth.

  Johanna didn't see the laird again until the ceremony, nor did she see her brother until he came to collect her. MacBain had posted two guards outside her door. She was afraid to ask if the soldiers were there to keep outsiders from entering or to keep her from leaving.

  She didn't get much sleep. Her mind raced from one worry to another. What if MacBain turned out to be like Raulf? Dear God, could she survive purgatory again? The possibility that she could be marrying another monster made her weep with self-pity. She was immediately ashamed of herself. Was she really such a coward after all? Had Raulf been right to ridicule her?

  No, no, she was a strong woman. She could handle anything that came her way. She would not give in to the fear or allow herself to have such low thoughts about herself. She had value, damn it… didn't she?

  Johanna had believed her confidence in herself had returned after Raulf's death. For the first time in over three years, she lived without fear. Her days were filled with blissful peace. Even after King John had dragged her to his court, he left her alone in her own private chambers. No one bothered her. There was a garden directly outside her door. She spent most of her days there.

  The peaceful interlude was over, however, and she was now being forced into another marriage. She was bound to disappoint the laird. And what would he do then? Would he try to make her feel ignorant and unworthy? By God, she wouldn't let that happen. Raulf's attacks had been so cleverly disguised, and she'd been so young and childishly naive, she hadn't realized until it was almost too late exactly what he was doing. It was a slow, insidious attack upon her character, relentless too, and it went on and on and on until she felt as though he'd sucked the very light out of her.

  She tried to fight back then. And that was when the beatings began.

  Johanna forced herself to block the memories. She fell asleep praying for a miracle.

  Nicholas came to get her during the nooning hour. He took one look at her pale face and shook his head.

  "Have you so little faith in your brother's judgment? I have told you MacBain's an honorable man," he reminded her. "You have no reason to fear him."

  She placed her hand on her brother's arm and walked by his side. "I do have faith in your judgment," she whispered.

  Her voice lacked conviction, but he wasn't insulted. He understood her fear. The memory of seeing her battered face when he'd stopped to pay a visit, and Raulf hadn't had time to hide her away, instantly filled him with rage yet again.

  "Please don't frown, Nicholas. I'm conquering my fear. It will be all right."

  Nicholas smiled. He couldn't believe his sister was actually trying to comfort him now.

  "Aye, your marriage will be all right," he said. "Do you know, if you would just look around you, you'd catch a glimpse of your futur
e husband's character. Where did you sleep last night?"

  "You know very well where I slept."

  "It's a brand-new cottage, isn't it?"

  He didn't give her time to answer. "I can see three others from here, all looking freshly built. The wood hasn't weathered yet."

  "What is it you're trying to tell me?"

  "A selfish man would consider his own comforts first, wouldn't he?"

  "Yes."

  "Do you see a new keep?"

  "No."

  "Calum is MacBain's first-in-command over the MacBain warriors, Johanna, and he told me the cottages are for the elderly in the clan. They come first, for they are most in need of warm fires and roofs over their heads at night. MacBain puts himself last. Think about that, Johanna. I found out there are two bedchambers on the east side above the stairs in the keep proper. Neither was disturbed by fire. Yet MacBain hasn't spent a single night there. He sleeps outside with the other soldiers. Doesn't that tell you something about the man's character?"

  Her smile was all the answer he required.

  The color came back into her face. Nicholas nodded with satisfaction.

  They had almost reached the edge of the courtyard when they stopped to watch the crowd of men and women working to prepare for the ceremony. Since the chapel had been gutted by fire, the wedding would take place in the courtyard. A makeshift altar consisting of a wide, flat wooden board was propped on top of two empty ale barrels. A woman spread a white linen cloth over the board. Father MacKechnie waited until the covering was in place, then put a beautiful golden chalice and plate in the center. Two more women were kneeling on the ground in front of the barrels, arranging bouquets of flowers in front of the wood.

  Johanna started walking forward again. Nicholas took hold of her hand to stop her.

  "There is something more you need to know," he began.

  "Yes?"

  "Do you see the child sitting on the top step?"

  She turned to look. A little boy, surely no more than four or five summers, sat all alone on the top step. His elbows rested on his knees, and his head was propped up by his hands. He was watching the preparations. He looked terribly unhappy.