“I’ve got you, Maggie.”
As if startled to hear him call her by that name, she let her hands slip from his shoulders and she stood there stock-still in front of him, though he couldn’t read her full expression in the dim moonlight.
“Do you mind if I call you Maggie?”
“Aye, Mad Maggie…Mad Maggie…”
“No, just Maggie.”
Her small shrug made him wonder if she preferred the unsavory nickname, and she continued to just stand there as if waiting for his next move. Might he have some hope that she still felt sleepy and wouldn’t resist him at every turn?
“Come. I’ll walk with you into the trees where you can see tae your needs.”
He took her hand and slowed his usual stride so she wouldn’t have to hurry overmuch to keep up with him, relieved again that she seemed so acquiescent. What had Sister Agnes told him at the convent?
She’s the sweetest child most times…
Praying at that moment that the Reverend Mother’s assessment was accurate, Gabriel ventured far enough into the trees that none of his men could see them. He felt reluctant to release her hand, but how else was she to lift her clothing and squat to relieve herself? He let go of her hand and gestured for her to raise her skirt.
“I think you know what I mean, lass…and look, I’ll even turn around—”
“You go first.”
Her expression inscrutable in the dark, Gabriel felt a moment’s astonishment that she had addressed him directly for the very first time…albeit in a tone so like a child.
His first instinct was to tell her no and that she go first, and then he would take her back to the clearing and have one of his men watch her while he saw to his own needs—och, but he felt about to burst.
Sighing, he stepped over to another tree, telling himself that she was his wife after all, though he kept his eyes upon her. He lifted his tunic and groaned with relief, and he saw, too, that he must have inspired her because she took a few steps backward and squatted.
Gabriel almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the moment, the two of them out in the woods relieving themselves and at last not at cross purposes with each other. A strange intimacy, to be sure—and he glanced down to readjust his tunic and step away from the tree.
She must be finished, too, the woods around them quiet except for the low din of voices from his men watering the horses some yards away and crickets chirping—ah, God, too quiet!
His glance to the left confirmed what the clutch in his chest already told him, and Gabriel whirled in place, looking all around him.
Magdalene was gone!
As if she’d been a forest sprite and not a flesh and blood woman, she had disappeared into the thick trees without a sound, without a footfall!
Cursing himself for a fool, Gabriel took off in the direction he guessed she must have gone, hoping against hope that he’d spy a flash of light-colored hair against the darkness.
Hear a twig snapping, a panting breath as she ran—anything!
He wanted to call for his men, but didn’t dare. Who could say what enemies might lurk in these woods? Yet he was crashing so through the trees, scanning to the left and right, it would be a miracle if anyone was out there and didn’t hear him.
Wily chit, if he didn’t find her soon, he might never find her. That thought made him drag in a heavy breath and plunge on—until a small shriek and the sound of splashing made him veer to the right and charge toward the stream.
His breathing hard.
His muscles burning after hours of sitting in a saddle and now pumping with exertion.
“No, no, noooo!”
Magdalene’s voice shrill, desperate, Gabriel yanked out his sword and held it at the ready as he ran—only to hear a guttural sound as if someone had been kicked in a very sensitive place, and then a wheezing intake of breath.
“Och, lass, will you unman me for life?” demanded Finlay, for Gabriel knew at once with a swamping sense of relief that his cousin had found her.
Five long strides more and he was upon them, Gabriel quickly sheathing his sword and then grabbing Magdalene from behind as she swung her leg back to give another kick.
Straight into his lower body, Gabriel exhaling as he dropped to his knees from the blinding pain while Finlay groaned in disbelief.
“What manner of wife have you wed, Gabriel? Will she ruin us both, then?”
He didn’t answer, but hauled himself up and grabbed Magdalene before she could flee again into the darkness. Now any acquiescence had disappeared as she began to fight him tooth and nail.
Kicking.
Punching.
Pinching, aye, pinching!
A crazed wildness about her that he had never seen anyone possess—sane or mad. Somehow he managed to pin her arms behind her and lifted her bodily against him while Finlay dragged himself up from kneeling in the creek.
“If you take her back tae the convent this very night, Gabriel, none of us would fault you for it!”
Hearing the strapping warrior’s pronouncement only made Magdalene struggle all the harder, even though her arms were useless against Gabriel’s steely grip.
Aye, it was working! Her plan was working! She couldn’t believe how easy it had been to sneak away from him while he relieved himself—though her cheeks flared hot at the memory of hearing such a thing. For a second she had feared his gesture in the woods for her to lift her skirt had meant he wanted to…wanted to—
“Wife, enough!”
Gabriel’s voice filled with such anger that she felt a moment’s fear, Magdalene nonetheless continued to wriggle against him though he began to crash through the trees with her toward the clearing.
Aye, she’d done it now and he was going to head right back to the convent, no matter that Seoras had ordered they must reside together at MacLachlan Castle!
Escaped from him right under his nose while he had watered the tree.
Kicked his hulking warrior between the legs, although she really hadn’t meant to—and then kicked Gabriel in the same place, not her intention at all even if it had worked to her advantage. Who would have thought that could bring two grown men to their knees?
Such relief filled her that her ordeal would soon be over, Magdalene felt tears burn her eyes.
Thank goodness she had slept away most of the journey so she’d had plenty of strength to make good on her attempt to escape. She had come so close, too, to clearing the creek and setting off into the opposite woods until Finlay—aye, that was the giant’s name—had caught her from behind, making her shriek in surprise.
So she hadn’t escaped, but what did it matter? She couldn’t wait until she saw the look on Sister Agnes’s face to have her back again—and so soon! She knew the Reverend Mother loved her like a granddaughter and would welcome her with open arms—
“Back on your horses, men!” came Gabriel’s stern command, the flurry of activity around them truly amazing to see as Magdalene’s excitement only grew. “We canna stay here now for all the commotion. God knows who might have heard my wife scream.”
“Aye, Gabriel, we couldna believe it, either—och, you’ve got your hands full with that one,” said Cameron while Conall stepped forward to help.
“Shall I lift her up tae you?”
Magdalene exhaled in a whoosh as she felt herself fairly tossed into Conall’s arms while Gabriel mounted, but only for a moment before she was hoisted up unceremoniously onto the saddle.
Right back where she started, Gabriel’s arm clamping tightly around her, his other hand jerking at the reins.
“We’ll not sleep tonight, but stop a short while here and there tae rest and water the horses. With that pace, we’ll be well on our way back tae MacLachlan Castle by daylight. Ride, men!”
MacLachlan Castle?
Stunned, Magdalene stiffened within Gabriel’s embrace, but he only held her all the tighter.
His angry breath fanning her ear.
Frustrated tears tumbling down her
cheeks.
Chapter 5
“Home at last.”
Magdalene didn’t stir at Gabriel’s words, his exhaustion evident in the loosening of his grip around her. Instead she kept her eyes closed, her head lowered as the din of voices shouting out greetings to him and his men grew louder.
Finally, she could breathe properly! He’d held her so tightly for much of the journey that her ribs ached, which made her feel certain that she’d find angry purple bruises upon her skin from his rough treatment.
And here the man had said he wouldn’t hurt her—never hurt her! She felt sore, from her back pressed against his hard leather armor to her toes. Magdalene had stubbed them after losing her slippers in the woods when she’d so desperately tried to escape him.
He was a fiend, a monster! Just like the man who’d destroyed her beloved sister, Debora, by his callous and cruel abuse—though that one had met a just end when his servants had risen up against him and bludgeoned him to death.
Aye, there was a fine place in hell for men like Gabriel MacLachlan who married women against their will—and it made no good sense for him to have done so at all!
He didn’t want her.
He didn’t want this marriage.
She had decided that Seoras must hold something serious, indeed, over Gabriel’s head to make him acquiesce to wedding her, something that went far beyond obeying the orders of an overlord.
“Maggie, look up. I know you’re not sleeping. My people have come out tae greet you and welcome you tae your new home.”
Home? Magdalene stubbornly kept her eyes down and her head lowered, some satisfaction filling her when she heard him sigh heavily.
This place wasn’t her home! Aye, she had glimpsed MacLachlan Castle from afar when they had crested a hill, and it had looked as foreboding against the cloudy afternoon sky as she could have imagined it would be.
Dark gray stone. A massive keep with four square towers, two with what appeared to be scaffolding, and an attached building half as high that she imagined must be filled with emaciated prisoners hanging from shackles and pleading for water.
Gabriel was a warrior, wasn’t he? Always fighting. Always killing. Always brutal and unforgiving. How could he be any different with Seoras as his overlord?
Her memories of her only brother were of someone who’d scarcely given her any notice, and she’d learned to stay out of his way.
Ill-tempered, impatient, demanding, and unkind to servants and animals alike, many a time she’d heard a yelp from a poor dog that had strayed into his path or seen him whip a horse into a lather. She had no idea how Seoras had come to be that way, which wasn’t the character of her parents at all, and their home overall had been a happy one until what happened to Debora—
“Maggie, do you like wildflowers?”
Wildflowers? Her brute of a husband asking her about such a thing now when she felt as if she were being propelled toward no home at all, but a prison?
“Lift your head and you’ll see some lasses ahead with posies for you. Will you do that for me?”
Not for him, certainly not for him! Reluctantly, Magdalene looked up to see a trio of young girls hopping up and down with excitement alongside the road and clutching sprays of wildflowers.
A good-sized village lay to the east of the castle and it appeared, indeed, just as Gabriel had said, that many of the people had come out to greet them.
If she hadn’t felt so exhausted herself, she might have thrown a hysterical fit right then and there and given them all something to gossip about—but her heart went out to the three girls lifting up their offerings as Gabriel slowed his horse to a stop.
“Welcome, Lady MacLachlan!” they burst out in unison, the girls’ faces freshly scrubbed and their simple clothing appearing clean and like new.
“Och, she’s beautiful, dinna you think so?” breathed a sweet little sprite who stood on tiptoe to hand Magdalene a small bunch of bright yellow marsh marigold.
“Aye, like an angel, she is, with that golden hair,” piped up another girl who appeared the eldest, her somewhat bedraggled posy offered up with a beaming smile. “God bless you, Laird MacLachlan, and your lovely lady, too! Do you see the tunics our ma stitched for us with that bolt of cloth you gave us?”
“Aye, lass, she did a fine job,” came Gabriel’s answer, the gentleness in his deep voice making Magdalene stiffen against him.
Oh, aye, playing the benevolent laird to his people while her ribs pained her with every breath she took! She almost flung the posies in his face when a ruckus of squeals and feminine laughter made her glance ahead to where Conall and his horse were suddenly surrounded by comely young women.
She felt Gabriel stiffen now, too, and she wondered if it had bothered him that the Campbell brothers had skirted them while they were stopped, and ridden on ahead.
“Conall’s been gone only a few days and it’s like they havna seen him for weeks,” Alun said dryly, reining in his mount beside them. “What can one say? He loves women…and they love him right back.”
“I’ve asked Cameron tae counsel him about that very thing,” Gabriel said sternly, Magdalene looking at the older brother who appeared quite ill at ease when a saucy young woman sauntered up to his horse. “There’s men aplenty hoping tae take those lasses tae wife, yet they’re dreaming about Conall when he’ll never tie himself tae one woman. It’s not his nature, while Cameron…well, you’d never know he’s my greatest warrior from his shyness around women.”
“Och, it’s more than shyness, Gabriel, and you know it. I think Cameron would rather fight a hundred Englishmen than look a woman straight in the eye. He’s entirely confounded by them.”
“I know how he feels,” Gabriel muttered, which made Magdalene smile to herself in his arms and feel a resurgence of hope.
Aye, she well may have been brought to MacLachlan Castle, not what she’d wanted at all, but if he was confounded by her? Then the battle she’d waged to return to the convent wasn’t over, but only getting started.
Magdalene lifted the posies to smell their sweetness, only to crinkle up her nose and sneeze with such fury that she startled their mount. Gabriel pulled tight on the reins to steady the snorting beast, while Alun swore under his breath and rode ahead as if he preferred to steer clear of her.
Just as Gabriel’s men had done since last night, all of them keeping well away from her whenever they had stopped to rest and water the horses. She had no doubt that Finlay had apprised them of her swift kick to his lower body, a couple of the men clasping their hands over themselves if they ever had to venture near.
She might have laughed like a lunatic at them, too, if she hadn’t felt so humiliated by Gabriel tying a rope around her waist to lead her into the trees to attend to her needs.
Nor had he turned his back, but instead watched her—watched her until she was done and then led her back like a tethered mare to where his men were gathered.
Magdalene’s face suddenly ablaze at the memory, she lowered her head again, though his people lined the road leading to the castle, waving and cheering.
She had to admit to herself that she felt confounded by this man who’d become her husband.
His men seemed at ease with him, no one grumbling or complaining at the hard pace he’d commanded of them.
His people seemed happy to see him…but then again, if he was providing food to them—they all appeared well-fed and nourished—and cloth to them for their garments, why wouldn’t they cheer?
She felt certain that Gabriel must have a mercenary interest in keeping their bellies full and new clothes on their backs. Who would tend to the fields they had passed on the way to the castle if they were too weak from hunger to wield a hoe? Who would tend to the fat cattle she’d seen grazing on the hillsides? She refused to believe he was an honorable man as Sister Agnes had told her, for if that was true, he wouldn’t have agreed to take a lunatic to wife who clearly wanted nothing to do with him!
The creaking of the dra
wbridge being lowered by massive chains drew Magdalene’s gaze again to the towering stone structure in front of them—and she felt all of a sudden that she would burst into tears.
When would she ever be able to leave this place? She felt sick and frightened by turns, and glanced into the moat that didn’t hold water at all, but sharp-sided boulders twenty feet down where many attackers must have splattered their brains and blood.
A moment more, the horses’ hooves clopping across the wooden bridge, and they had passed beneath a raised iron gate that appeared to Magdalene like pointed fangs.
Another set of massive gates braced with iron had been opened to admit them. Gabriel didn’t draw his mount to a stop until they were well within the bailey, where once again it seemed that they were surrounded by people.
Grooms rushed forward to tend to the horses as his men dismounted heavily while serving maids came running with sloshing buckets of water and ladles to offer a drink.
Magdalene braced herself as Gabriel dismounted, too, closing her eyes tightly as she expected any moment for him to sweep her from the saddle. He’d done so quite roughly the last few times, and she’d wondered when he had winced afterward and rubbed his right shoulder.
“Maggie, take my hand.”
She opened her eyes to find him lifting his arm to her, and she almost obliged him before catching herself.
No, it wouldn’t do at all for her to obey him so readily; instead she stared unblinking at him as if she hadn’t understood a word he’d said.
His face appeared so weary, almost pale, and he sighed as he stepped forward and raised both arms as if to pull her down. She cried out and cringed atop the saddle, which made everyone around them stop what they were doing and look, servants and warriors alike.
“No…you hurt me last time. Hurt me!”
At once Magdalene was certain she saw a look of understanding cross his face, remorse in his dark eyes.
My Highland Warrior (Warriors of the Highlands Book 1) Page 4