“I’m not offering temporary lodging, and you won’t be leaving in a few days. You’re coming home with me to stay.”
One of his men called to him. Colm answered by putting his hand up for silence and responding to the man, “You will wait to speak until I’ve finished with this.”
Finished with this? Apparently, Gabrielle thought, she was the “this” he was referring to.
“I thank you for your offer of hospitality,” she said, “but I cannot go with you.”
Declining his invitation seemed the logical thing to do because she had just come up with another destination. She and her guards would go home with Laird Buchanan. The Buchanans could keep her just as safe as the MacHughs.
But why hadn’t Buchanan offered?
Colm wasn’t certain how to proceed. In truth, he was astonished that she would turn down his protection. Didn’t the daft woman realize the danger she was in? Did she understand what being an outcast meant?
He decided to enlighten her, but before he could explain how precarious and bleak her situation was, she asked, “Why didn’t Laird Buchanan offer his home and his protection? I am related to him.”
Colm glanced over his shoulder, found Brodick in the crowd of men straining to overhear the conversation, and tilted his head toward Gabrielle.
From the look on Colm’s face, Brodick knew the discussion wasn’t going well. He crossed the clearing, and with his gaze locked on Gabrielle, he asked, “Why is this taking so long?”
“She’s being difficult,” Colm told him.
She immediately protested. “I must disagree, Laird. I don’t believe I’m being in the least bit difficult.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Brodick asked Colm. “Did you tell her what’s going to happen?”
Ah, that’s where he went wrong. He’d told her Brodick’s suggestion instead of commanding her obedience.
“Laird MacHugh kindly offered—”
“I what?” he roared.
“You kindly…” she began again.
When his eyes narrowed and the creases in his brow deepened, she understood. Using the word “kindly” was obviously some sort of an insult. What a strange group of men these Highlanders were. She would be relieved to be rid of them.
She didn’t dare smile. “Laird MacHugh offered me his protection, and I declined. I politely declined,” she stressed.
“She wants to know why you didn’t offer her your home and your protection, Brodick,” Colm said.
“You didn’t fully explain the plan?”
“I never got that far. This woman is prone to interrupting.”
“Gabrielle,” Brodick began, using what he believed was his most reasonable tone of voice. “I could offer you my home and my protection—and I’ll admit my wife would be happy for your company. You would be safe—”
“I will be pleased to accept your offer as long as you understand that it will be only for a few days. Is that agreeable?”
She hadn’t given him time to tell her that MacHugh could do more than protect her; he could give her his name. Instead, she had accepted an invitation he hadn’t extended.
“The woman’s hell-bent on refusing help,” Colm said.
Brodick nodded agreement.
Colm addressed Gabrielle. “What happens in a few days? What is it you plan to do?”
“First, I must find my father and warn him of the danger.”
“Find him? You don’t know where he is?” Brodick asked.
She shook her head. “He was going to King John to give his account of what happened to Monroe, and he was going to catch up with me on my way back to England.”
“Do you think to roam the land until you happen upon him?” Colm asked.
“Even if you do find him, you wouldn’t be able to follow him into England. You’ve been exiled,” Brodick reminded her. “If you’re caught, you’ll be executed, and if you’re captured with your father, he’ll also pay a high price.”
They were forcing her to face reality, but she still couldn’t abide the idea of anyone having to rescue her for something she hadn’t done.
“My father must be told what happened.”
“He’s probably hearing about it even now,” Brodick suggested. “Or he will hear soon. Bad news travels fast. He’ll also hear that we were there,” he added with a nod toward Colm, “and I would wager he’ll come to me looking for you.”
This made sense to her. “Yes, that is what he would do, and that is yet another reason I should go home with you.”
Brodick sighed in frustration. He didn’t know how to make her understand.
“You know, in a dire, dire situation…where there is no other possible solution—none at all—and it is life-threatening,” he stressed, “you can come to my home, for you are my wife’s cousin. However—”
Colm interrupted him. “We’ve wasted enough time here, Brodick. If you don’t tell her, I will.”
Frowning, she asked Colm, “Tell me what, Laird?”
Brodick answered. “If you go near your father, you’ll put him in harm’s way. Is that what you want, Gabrielle?”
“No, no, of course not, but I…”
And then it struck her. The enormity of the situation finally penetrated. Dear God, what was she going to do? No one was safe with her. Even the Buchanans and the MacHughs were at risk.
MacHugh’s first in command, Braeden, called out to him. Colm turned and saw another of his soldiers talking to Braeden, and both were staring at Gabrielle. Then Brodick’s commander, Dylan, joined their discussion.
“What is it?” Colm shouted.
Braeden explained as he walked toward him. “The English.” He glanced at Gabrielle before he continued. “Both barons are searching for her, and both have small armies with them.”
Brodick asked, “Are they heading this way?”
“No, Laird,” he answered. “One of the barons leads his men to the south, and the other is heading toward the Monroes.”
“Eventually, when they can’t find Gabrielle, they’ll backtrack and come this way,” Brodick said.
Colm agreed. He took Braeden aside to give him orders and finally turned back to her.
“Now do you understand?” He asked irritably.
Apparently she didn’t. “Why would they be looking for me? You were there. You heard what they called me, and you surely heard that I was condemned in King John’s name. Didn’t they say that in their eyes I no longer exist?”
“You’re now vulnerable,” Brodick explained.
Colm was going to have to be more direct. “Any man who is strong enough to fight off the others can have you now. Need I be more explicit?”
Horrified, she frantically shook her head.
“Since you no longer answer to any king nor belong to any country, you have no one to protect you from predators,” Brodick explained, his voice much kinder than Colm’s had been.
She bowed her head while fighting the terror inside. “How will I protect my father and my guards? They’ll kill them.” She whispered her fears.
“You worry about others instead of yourself?” Brodick asked.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she took a deep breath and looked at the lairds. “You must leave immediately. Yes, that’s what you must do.” Her voice was strong now, determined. “All of you are in danger as long as you are with me. Go. Leave me now.”
“Did she just dismiss us?” Colm looked incredulous.
“Aye, she did,” Brodick said. “I don’t think she knows any better.”
After a moment’s thought, Colm decided Gabrielle hadn’t realized she was insulting them by suggesting that they would run at the first hint of trouble. Both he and Brodick welcomed the opportunity to fight with the English, but neither would give in to the temptation as long as Gabrielle was in their care.
Exasperated, Colm said, “Gabrielle, you will not question my authority in the future.”
She was slow to catch on. “In the future? What future?”
“Your future as my wife.”
THERE WAS NO DISCUSSION. MACHUGH SIMPLY TOLD HER what was going to happen and then walked away.
All things considered, Gabrielle thought she handled herself quite well. She didn’t scream or faint when the laird calmly announced that she would be spending the rest of her life with him. She might have paled, but she did not faint.
She took solace in one certainty: no way in Hell would she marry Laird MacHugh. She didn’t like the man, and she knew he didn’t like her. The debt he had to pay to Brodick must be staggering, for why else would he ruin his life by marrying a woman he barely knew and had heard such terrible lies about? As far as she knew, MacHugh thought she was a whore.
No, marriage was out of the question.
How terrible would it be if, just for a little while, Gabrielle let MacHugh think she was agreeable? This small deception would give her time to work on a plan for her future. After two or three days, she would tell him the truth…as she was leaving, of course.
She weighed the good against the bad. On the one hand, she and her guards would be safe from the barons. They would have shelter and protection. If the barons found out where she was staying, they wouldn’t dare ride onto MacHugh land, for they would surely know they wouldn’t come out alive.
On the other hand, she would be living with…him.
Laird Buchanan seemed most pleased with his friend’s decision. Smiling and in good cheer, he motioned to his men that it was now time to leave. Gabrielle tapped on his shoulder. She was about to ruin his good mood.
“Cousin Brodick?”
His smile vanished. “It isn’t necessary for you to call me cousin.”
“Do you have a moment to answer a question?”
“What is it?” he asked warily.
“I understand why you would feel responsible for me, since I’m your cousin.”
Gabrielle wondered why he grimaced at her reference to their relationship. Did he need to be reminded that he had married a woman from England? Did he grimace every time his wife spoke to him?
She decided to get right to the heart of her question. “What debt is he paying that he must be responsible for me? He doesn’t even know me.”
“Put the question to him,” he suggested. “If he wants to explain, he will.”
“And Laird,” she continued, “if you should hear from my father, will you please tell him not to come after me?”
Brodick started to turn away, then changed his mind. “Gabrielle, MacHugh won’t let anything happen to you. He protects what belongs to him.”
That said, he went on his way, leaving Gabrielle aghast. Belongs to him? She was now a possession?
Despite the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she told herself to stay strong. She would keep an open mind about MacHugh. If she didn’t draw attention to herself, maybe he would pay no attention to her or her guards, and if she stayed out of his way, perhaps he would stay away.
“Gabrielle, it’s time to leave.” MacHugh spoke from directly behind her. She nearly fell into his arms when she whirled around.
“I didn’t hear you approach,” she stammered. “You move like a lion.”
Amused, he asked, “Have you ever seen a lion?”
“As a matter of fact, I have. In St. Biel, my father once showed me two lions. They were quite beautiful.”
And fierce, she silently qualified. Much like you.
Gabrielle followed him to the horses. “Laird, I want you to know that I will not defend myself. I don’t care if you believe what the barons said.”
“Yes, you do care,” he replied as he kept walking. “We know the woman lied.”
Her hand flew to her heart, and she stopped. “You do?”
“Of course. I knew she was lying from the beginning.”
Apparently he was finished talking about it. Before she realized what he was going to do, he picked her up and all but tossed her onto Rogue’s back. Braeden handed her the reins.
“Your guards will be allowed to accompany you,” Colm said.
Did he honestly believe she would go with him if her guards were not allowed to go with her? He had already swung onto his horse and ridden away before she could ask.
The others fell into formation behind him. Riding hard through the valleys, their pace slowed once they reached the hills. The riders formed a single line to climb the narrow, treacherous trail ahead of them. After making one harrowing turn, she discovered they were on a bluff overlooking Finney’s Flat. This was the spot the scoundrels who were holding Liam had watched as they waited for MacHugh to show himself. She squinted against the sun to see if she would be able to recognize anyone from such a distance. Impossible, she thought. Only an eagle could have seen Liam’s face.
Realizing she was holding up the procession, she continued on. Rogue faltered near the first crevice, and stones rumbled down the steep cliff on the right. Gabrielle looked over the side and cringed. It was a sheer drop to the bottom of an abyss. Her horse continued to have trouble finding his footing. She let him go at his own pace, but still he stumbled twice more before the path finally widened and leveled. By then, her heart was racing.
When they reached a grassy slope she leaned down and whispered praise to Rogue as she patted him. When she straightened, she saw MacHugh watching her with a puzzled expression.
And on they continued. The weather turned damp and cold, and Gabrielle felt it in her bones. Without her heavy cloak, she was shivering in no time at all. She didn’t think anyone noticed how miserable she was until MacHugh ordered Lucien to move out of his way so he could ride next to Gabrielle. Her guard had no choice in the matter. MacHugh’s stallion would have trampled him if he hadn’t moved back.
“You’re cold,” he stated.
Was it an accusation? She couldn’t tell. “Yes, I’m cold.” She added, “Glaring at me won’t make the shivers go away, Laird. Perhaps—”
She might have yelped. She couldn’t be certain. It all happened so fast. One second he was listening to her, and the next he was lifting her from Rogue, settling her on his lap, and wrapping her in his plaid.
His chest was like a rock, a warm rock. So were his thighs. The heat radiating from him warmed her. Exhausted, she let herself relax against him. His scent was pleasant, like heather and the woods. The barons who had come for the wedding at the abbey drenched themselves in perfumes and oils, thinking the heavy fragrances would cover the foul stench of not bathing. Gabrielle found it nauseating to be in the same room with them. MacHugh was nothing like the barons.
She was suddenly plagued with guilt. It was wrong to deceive him, no matter what her reasons were.
“I have deceived you,” she blurted. “I will only be staying with you for two or three days, Laird, and I have no intention of ever marrying you. I wouldn’t blame you if you threw me off your horse this very minute. I hope you won’t, but I wouldn’t blame you.”
His response wasn’t what she expected. He pulled the plaid over her face and ignored her.
Lucien rode up next to the laird’s horse and with a threatening look at Colm said, “Princess Gabrielle, do you need my help?”
She pushed the plaid away from her face. “I’m warm now, Lucien. There is no cause to be concerned.” She gave Colm a glance that was cross and reproachful, but when she turned back toward Lucien, there was a faint smile on her lips.
MacHugh tightened his hold. The woman had gone through Hell today, and still she could smile. If she was afraid of what tomorrow would bring, she wasn’t letting it show.
Colm had lost his train of thought for a second or two, but he quickly regained his stern composure and said, “I don’t need your guard’s permission to touch you.”
“No, you don’t,” she agreed. “You need mine.”
Her comment obviously wasn’t worthy of a response, she decided, unless a grunt meant something.
They rounded another hill, and suddenly his fortress loomed ahead of them. The watchtower was so tall
it seemed to disappear in a cloud. A stone wall surrounded his holding, and a wooden drawbridge crossed a wide moat filled with water, black from the river stones deep in its bed.
Colm motioned for her guards to follow his soldiers inside. It was his ritual to be the last to cross the bridge. As soon as he had cleared the wooden planks, he signaled by raising his fist, and the drawbridge was lifted. The clanking sound of metal scraping against metal gave Gabrielle the feeling of being sealed inside a dungeon. She closed her eyes and forced the dark image from her mind. This was her sanctuary, not a prison.
The sun was setting as they crossed the lower bailey and started up the incline to the castle. The cottages they passed were dappled gold by the sun, and the grass on the slope ahead of them took on a fiery hue.
Clansmen stopped their chores and came outside to call to their laird and to stare at her. Children ran after them. Some of the women smiled. That would soon change, she thought, when they found out what she’d been condemned for. Hopefully, she would be gone before then.
His home was not impressive by St. Biel’s standards, or her father’s, for that matter. The square structure wasn’t large, but an addition was being constructed. Three sides were built of stone, and the remaining side, made of wood, was in the process of being reinforced with massive rocks. Scaffolding had been erected next to the keep with a winch and a treadmill to haul the stones up to the top floor.
“Your fortress is different from the ones in England.”
“How is it different?”
“The castles in England usually have two walls. The outer wall surrounds the bailey, but then there’s another defensive wall between the lower and the upper bailey. Sometimes there is even a drawbridge to further separate the lord’s home from all the others.”
“I have no need for two walls.”
“And you have only one watchtower,” she pointed out.
“I have need for only one.”
“I hope you don’t think I’m criticizing your home. I was just pointing out the differences. I’m certain I shall be most content here.”
When he didn’t agree, she assumed he had his mind on more important matters. Father Gelroy waved to her as he passed, and if her arms hadn’t been trapped inside MacHugh’s plaid, she would have waved back.