The Highlander’s English Woman (The Stelton Legacy)

by Ruth A. Casie

  Rhona jumped to her feet. She met Jamie’s accusing eyes without flinching.

  “Reeve?” Jamie was almost sorry for her, looking to Reeve for support she wasn’t going to get.

  The muscles on Reeve’s neck corded in anger.

  “You said... What we did—” Rhona wrung her hands and stammered. Did she see her prize vanish? No, he didn’t feel sorry for her. The woman understood what she was doing.

  “We did? You did. And it was all for the coin I gave you and the warmth of my bed. Did you really think I would marry you? Make you a lady?” He waved his hand dismissing her.

  “You told me you would—”

  “Be quiet.” He shot her a hostile glare.

  Wild with anger, murder was in her eyes. Her heaving chest calmed. She hurried out the door into the arms of Gareth’s waiting guards.

  “Take him away.” Reeve pointed to Jamie.

  Darren rushed toward Jamie, but stopped. The tip of Gareth’s sword pointed at his heart. Sean took off his friar’s robe. One-by-one the guards pulled off their tunics and exposed their Reynold colors.

  Jamie, his hands fisted at his side, was on his feet and ready.

  Reeve glanced from one person to the next. He boldly met Jamie’s glare.

  Wesley’s men started to move. Richard put out his arm and blocked their way.

  “Let them fight. This has been a long time coming,” the friar said.

  “Give this to the Friar and stay with him.” Jamie gave Laura the map and nudged her toward Richard. The Friar tucked her behind him and provided a solid wall of protection. She peeked around at Jamie.

  Jamie and Reeve squared off. They circled each other looking for their opportunity, a few steps to the right, a few steps to the left. Jamie eyes never left Reeve’s. He kept his eyes open for the telling signal, a flare of the nostrils or widening of the eyes that said, here I come.

  Reeve stepped forward and swung a right cross. Jamie blocked the punch and hit Reeve with four jabs to the face in rapid succession.

  Stunned and bloody, Reeve shook his head and came at him again.

  “Gareth warned you to keep your left fist up,” Jamie said. Anger flared in Reeve’s eyes.

  Reeve let loose a barrage of body punches. Jamie held his arms up for protection. The people around them moved to the edges of the room to give the men space.

  Reeve pressed forward taking aim at Jamie’s head. Jamie stumbled into the benches sending them everywhere.

  Jamie untangled himself from the debris. One by one he threw the benches out of his way and made his way toward Reeve.

  Reeve rushed at Jamie, attacking him with close body punches.

  Jamie tightened his mid-section to deflect Reeve’s punches.

  Breathing hard, rage and hate distorted Reeve’s face.

  Jamie’s lips curved in a half smile. It enraged Reeve more. At the moment, Jamie didn’t care about Scotland or England. It was Laura he wanted. She was all he ever wanted.

  Reeve advanced, with a burst of energy. Jamie was ready. He ducked and stepped away, his back inches from Richard.

  “Sometimes a farmer must be a warrior,” Richard said for only him to hear.

  Jamie gave a curt nod and exploded with rapid left jabs that connected with Reeve’s jaw. Reeve’s head snapped back at each punch.

  “That’s for Ned.” Jamie said. He didn’t give Reeve time to recover. He advanced, letting loose with a punishing right hook that caught Reeve in the side of his head and sent him to the floor. Reeve’s face was bloody and bruised.

  “That’s for Laura.” Jamie’s knuckles were red and swollen.

  Stunned, Reeve staggered to his feet. He struggled to lift his fists for protection. They didn’t come close to his face.

  Jamie threw a series of punches, left jab and right cross in quick succession. He shifted from one foot to the other and put his full weight behind each blow.

  Reeve’s arms dropped to his side. Dazed, he stared at Jamie. A right cross exploded from Jamie’s shoulder and sent Reeve to the floor.

  “That’s for Harmon,” Jamie said standing over him. The man paled at the reference.

  Reeve pulled on the benches, but the teetering pile gave way. He collapsed sprawled on the ground. It was over.

  “Jamie.” Laura made her way to his side through the tangle of seats. He held her in his arms and reveled in holding her close.

  “I knew he set a trap. I had no way to warn you,” Laura said, her tone apologetic.

  “Hush, it’s over.” Jamie smoothed her hair and cradled her head against his chest. He glanced over his shoulder at Richard standing with his head bowed and his hands tucked inside his sleeves

  “What should we do with him?”

  Reeve stood between two of Wesley’s guards.

  “Put him in the dungeon along with Darren and Rhona. Wesley will decide what to do with them.”

  Jamie and Laura made their way through the overturned benches toward the door.

  Reeve tore the sword out of the guard’s hand and rushed at Jamie.

  In a swift move, Richard pulled a dagger from his sleeve and threw it with precision.

  The dagger found its mark and dug in deep. Reeve stiffened and arched his back then crumpled to the floor.

  Richard moved to Reeve’s side. The mortally wounded man turned his head to see who was near.

  “But Bryce...” His face turned into a mask of fear.

  “Next time watch your back,” Richard said. Reeve’s mouth opened but nothing came out.

  “Hell has a special place for traitors.” Richard stuffed the stolen map in Reeve’s shirt. He twisted the knife then pulled it out.

  Reeve let out his last breath before his eyes fluttered and closed.

  “Jamie, Wesley is here, with the king’s soldiers,” one of Jamie’s men announced.

  “Laura, go with Gareth. I’ll be right with you.” Jamie made his way through the chaos to where Richard last stood, but all he found was the friar’s robe in a heap on the floor. He picked up the robe and glanced at the tunnel entrance as Richard disappeared. The door closed behind him without a sound.

  Chapter Twenty

  The tumult and uproar in the family’s private solar reached Jamie’s ears.

  “Jamie,” Sean met him at the door. “I searched the cemetery. I couldn’t find him. I left a small keg of ale.” Jamie put his arm around Sean’s shoulder and entered the room.

  “I’m glad the others didn’t know he was here. I think it would tear them apart to say good-bye to him again.”

  The room was controlled chaos. People were everywhere. The three friars stood to one side. Brother Steven was having a spirited conversation with Brothers Dan and Asher. Brother Steven did all the talking.

  Wesley’s soldiers, some still in Reeve’s colors, were mingled with Jamie’s men.

  Darla, Lisbeth, and Laura were in a tight knot by the fireplace.

  Laura found him as soon as he walked in. She had some magical way of knowing he was near. That made him snicker. Magic. She’d turned him into a believer.

  “Jamie.” Wesley signaled to him.

  “I’ll see to our men.” Sean moved into the group.

  Jamie crossed to the fireplace. Wesley welcomed him with a strong embrace. Gareth stood next to him like a proud father.

  “Laura told us what happened in Caerlaverock. You two had quite an adventure. I’ll send a report to Herbert.”

  “Reeve is dead.”

  “Yes, Gareth told me. The guards took his body out of the chapel. The King demanded Reeve be brought to Scone Parliament, no matter his condition. With Herbert’s paper tucked into his shirt he will make them a pretty prize. The king was irate. He didn’t take kindly to Reeve invoking his name on a non-existent royal decree.”

  “What about Rhona?”

  “Gareth will bring her to the Marsh Warden for him to deal with.”

  “I’m glad this is over,” Gareth said. “Wesley, I’ll finish gathering Reeve�
��s men and securing Glen Kirk.”

  “With your leave, it’s time for me to see to Cumgour.”

  “You can’t leave now.” Wesley glanced at Laura. “I thought...” Laura, Darla, and Lisbeth came to Wesley’s side. “Let me get to the point. Do you two love each other?”

  Startled, Jamie didn’t have any idea what to say.

  “This is a simple yes or no answer. Do you love her?” Wesley cocked his head to the side. His voice rang with command.

  “Yes, I do love her.” Jamie gazed at her, a strange sensuous light passed between them.

  “Laura—” Wesley’s patience frayed at the edges.

  “Yes, Father. I love him with all my heart.” She hadn’t taken her eyes off him.

  Jamie turned away, pulled out a paper and put it in Wesley’s hand.

  “What’s this?” Darla took the document from Wesley and read it.

  “Wesley, when did you send a request to Brother Steven?” Darla held out the document and shook it at him.

  “I wrote the request after you asked me to write Herbert.”

  Darla flushed and turned away from everyone.

  “What did you say in the message to Herbert?” Laura stepped toward her mother. Darla stood motionless then swiveled toward them and shrugged.

  “Only that you two are stubborn and in love and he was to... help it along.”

  Everyone started talking at once. “I can’t hear myself think with all this noise.” Lisbeth grabbed Jamie and Laura and led them down the corridor into the nursery.

  “I don’t understand the problem. Look at you, holding on to each other. Anyone can see the two of you love each other.”

  “With Richard gone...” Jamie didn’t know how to continue. Suddenly all the excuses were just that, excuses. Like a sailor in a sinking ship looking for safety, he gazed into Laura’s eyes. He filled his lungs and pushed on.

  “With Richard gone, Glen Kirk needs a strong defender. An English defender.”

  “I agree, but what has that to do with Laura and you?” She glanced over her shoulder at her sister. “I thought you loved Cumgour.”

  Jamie stood tongue-tied. Richard had said the same thing.

  “This is for you to discuss, no one else. Remember, together you can face anything.” Lisbeth turned to Laura. “As for Glen Kirk, I’m Father’s heir by right of succession and legal writ. Father and the King drafted a document so there would never be any dispute. You’re free to do what’s in your heart.”

  Jamie and Laura stood holding on to each other. Only the soft click of the door closing indicated they were alone.

  “What are you thinking,” he asked not sure he wanted her answer.

  To his relief, she smiled and drew her delicate long fingers down his shoulder, over his arm and intertwined them with his. He tucked her head against his chest and breathed in the scent of her.

  “I’m sorry you suffered. I hated myself, but I thought it was the best way to protect you. Reeve was crazy, but he skillfully managed us to achieve his ends. It was me he targeted all along.” Jamie pushed the hair out of her eyes.

  “He focused on you, but he wanted revenge for all the injustices he imagined against him.”

  Mentally and physically spent, he led her to the edge of the bed. “I kept watch over you. Even when you were with him.” He sat and drew her onto his lap, needing her to be close.

  “Yes, I always sensed you with me. When you left Caerlaverock without telling me, I panicked.”

  “Reeve managed that, too, from emptying my room to leaving you only part of the note I wrote you.”

  Curled up in his lap, he gazed into her eyes and stopped talking. He didn’t want to talk about Reeve or Glen Kirk. He wanted her, in his heart and in his arms.

  “Hold me. Don’t let me go,” Laura said. She nuzzled his neck and sank into his strong embrace. “Love me,” she whispered in his ear. His muscles tensed in response. She wanted his arms around her, his lips touching hers.

  They sank on the bed and held each other close. She was afraid to let him go, afraid the emptiness would find her, afraid of losing him, again. With an unending thirst, she focused on his mouth, the shape of his lips, the kisses that they promised.

  His hand stroked the side of her body from her breast to her thigh, claiming them. One stroke of her breast and she tugged on his shirt. He didn’t hesitate. He obliged her and pulled it off. Her hand played down the hard planes of his chest. Her eyes widened at the sight of the scars on his chest.

  “These weren’t here.” She traced them with her finger.

  He stopped her hand and brought it to his lips. “Fighting for The Maxwell comes with a price. I don’t want to think of the Maxwell.” He kissed her fingertips. “I thought I lost you forever.”

  She closed her eyes and reveled in the tingling sensation racing through her body and put her head on his shoulder.

  He opened her bodice and stroked the top of her chest then, with trembling hands, touched her breasts. A low moan escaped her lips.

  Jamie bent and kissed each breast.

  He ignited a flame inside her that set her on fire. Delicious shudders pulsed through her. She pulled his head away and kissed him.

  Her fingers traced the scars and the muscles of his chest danced at the light touch. “Where did you get this one?”

  “In a fight with the English.” His rapt gaze focused on her face.

  Her lips brushed against his skin. His skin deckled in gooseflesh. Her finger moved on. “And this one?”

  “A reiver attack,” his voice was husky and seductive.

  The hooded passion in his eyes encouraged her. She kissed the scar and moved on. The tips of her fingers traced down his chest. “Here is another.” The scar snaked below his navel. Another kiss. Her fingers trailed down further.

  He pulled her up and rolled on top of her. Her body instinctively arched against his. “You are mine.” His warm breath brushed against her face. Two heartbeats passed. “Do you hear me? You’re mine,” he said more urgently.

  “Yes.” Her voice an intimate whisper. His lips tugged into a sideways grin.

  His smile that made her bones go limp. It was his magic.

  “Mine,” was all he said and settled between her legs. Every inch of him was hard and ready. She focused on his lips while her hands ran over his body. The insistent need to touch him consumed her.

  “Love me, Jamie. Now.” She wanted to taste him, smell him, feel him.

  He bent down and let his lips brush gently across hers. Jamie soothed and calmed her with his touches and kisses only to build her heat and her passion. Tiny licks of pleasure shot through her while his manhood pressed against her.

  He slipped inside her and she let out a sigh of relief. “I please you,” he said, his voice rough with passion.

  She wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him closer. Heat rippled through her body fed with combustible desire that ran through her with every stroke. The last wave peaked, they both found their release.

  She picked up her head. “I want you. I’ll go where ever you are, Caerlaverock, Cumgour.”

  He took her head in his hands and brought his forehead to hers. “I love you. I’ve loved you forever.”

  He cradled her in his arms. “Marry me,” he commanded.

  “Yes,” was all she said.

  “Kneel sir,” the friar, sword in hand, demanded of Jamie. “Kneel and prepare for the sword of courage. Take your rightful place and humble yourself before your maker. As you bravely and solemnly come here today, you have shown to all present that you are worthy and ready to care for this woman, Laura, you have chosen from this day forward. To take thy woman’s hand is an act of bravery only supplanted by the call to arms. Do you understand and accept this, sir?” He glanced at the restored chapel with the benches in place past the small alter to the hidden tunnel door.

  “Yes, I understand.”

  Brother Steven easily handled the sword. “Three times I tap thee, once in the na
me of our king...”

  A shout rang up from the attending audience.

  “...once in the name of our bishop, and once in the name of our holy protector. Now that you have knelt and been christened and tapped, I declare thee ready to receive your bride. Now this is the day and time appointed for betrothal, Lord Jamie and Lady Laura are here with family, friends, and neighbors, standing together.

  “We are gathered here to join this man and this woman in a binding of life. At this day of binding, if any man declares any reason why they may not be coupled together, speak now.”

  “It is all well with us—let them marry,” responded the crowd in unison.

  Brother Steven turned to Jamie. “Lord James Maxwell Collins, do you take this woman, Lady Laura Reynolds, daughter of Lord and Lady Reynolds to wife?”

  Jamie gave the obligatory response but he didn’t hear the rest of the ceremony. He made a pact with the Lord. He vowed to honor her, care for her, but more than anything he vowed to love her and gave thanks she was his.

  “Lord Jamie, I said you can kiss the bride,” Brother Seven said.

  Jamie took his wife in his arms and kissed her to the shouts and screams of their family and friends.

  “We have guests,” Lisbeth said. Wesley, Darla, and the bride and groom glanced at the entrance. Bryce and his captain walked through the crowd.

  “The information I was given must be wrong. I was told Glen Kirk had fallen. Reeve’s flag is not flying the Reynold’s flag is still there.” Bryce took stock of the room. “I thought I was coming to your defense.”

  “Not at all,” Wesley said. “To Laura’s wedding.”

  The muscle along Bryce’s jaw tightened.

  “You knew Glen Kirk had fallen? Where have you been?” Wesley asked.

  “On a fool’s errand for my father. I came across a merchant who told me Reeve’s flag few on top the castle. I didn’t think you would hand over Glen Kirk willingly. I came as soon as I could. “I didn’t think Reeve had the nerve. Where is he?” Bryce scanned the room.

  “The king ordered him to London. Unfortunately, he’s in a box.”