By the time they reached Caraidland, Hugh and his men were inside the bailey. The arrival of Eldon and his men caused a brief hesitation in the battle. An instant later it became clear to Hugh's men that this force of Englishmen was not there to assist them. To add to their dismay, nearly a third of their force changed sides, donning blue ties and turning against their former master, Sir Hugh. The few Scots left in the bailey quickly saw that, in this one instance, Englishmen were going to aid them, and a weak cheer went up amongst their decimated numbers, for they could also see that the tide of battle now turned against Sir Hugh.
Tavis watched the scene below and, slowly, the bitter taste of defeat left his stomach. Sir Hugh was good, but Lord Eldon was better, his skill gained from years of fighting. When so many of Sir Hugh's force rushed to join their liege lord it was more or less a coup de grace. Defeat now faced Sir Hugh and had from the moment Eldon had swooped into the bailey. The desertion of so many men simply ensured that the defeat would come more quickly.
He and the other two men raced from the tower room, eager to rejoin the battle. It did not surprise Tavis to find the men who had managed to reach the security of the keep milling about in some confusion. Not only was Eldon supposed to be dead, but it was hard for many to comprehend that he would do anything to help them.
"I cannae see clearly," Colin said as he reached Tavis's side. " 'Tis truly Eldon?"
"Aye. 'Tis Eldon. The man has not only risen from the dead, he has come to our rescue." Tavis laughed with enjoyment and relief. "Tell all the men to strike no man wearing a blue tie upon his arm."
When Tavis reached the bailey he smiled with grim pleasure. Already a number of Sir Hugh's men were yielding. He caught sight of Sir Hugh and raced toward the man. Although he could see that Eldon struggled to get to the man as well, Tavis did not hesitate. It would be courteous to allow Lord Eldon the pleasure of slaying Sir Hugh, but Tavis held too strong an urge for vengeance to be courteous.
Sir Hugh read his death in Tavis MacLagan's eyes. The knowledge that he had lost, especially when he had been so close to victory, enraged Sir Hugh. With a scream of fury, he lunged for Tavis.
The fight was fierce but brief. Tavis's fury was cold, allowing for clear thought and smooth action. Hugh's rage was mindless, lessening his usual skill with a sword. All too soon, as far as their grim-faced audience was concerned, Hugh gave Tavis an opening. In the blinking of an eye, Tavis pondered toying with the sweating, ranting man for a while longer and discarded the idea. He struck, cleanly piercing the man's heart and killing him instantly.
For a moment Tavis simply studied the corpse of the man who had nearly brought about the total destruction of his clan. He felt almost disappointed that it had been so easy to kill him. Then he sensed someone at his side and turned to face Lord Eldon. One look into the man's eyes told Tavis that Lord Eldon knew everything. He saw the man raise his sword and tensed for yet another battle, one he had no wish to fight, but it never came.
"Papa! Papa!" Storm raced through the quieting battle and flung herself into her father's arms. "Oh, Papa, she said you had all died. All of you. I thought my poor heart would shatter."
Holding his daughter close to his heart, Eldon said, "I caught the murderers before they could do what she had hired them to do. One lived, and we learned of all that has gone on."
Haig, pushing a furious Lady Mary toward her husband, was briefly diverted as he watched the reunion between Storm and Lord Eldon. Lady Mary glanced at Sir Hugh's body, then glared at her husband and his daughter. She knew she would be lucky if all Eldon did to her was banish her to some remote nunnery. The realization of how completely wrong all her plans had gone made her hiss with rage. She pulled her dagger out and raised it, a cold smile curving her full mouth as she thought of how she was going to bury it deep into Eldon's broad back. There would be a loss she was certain would dim the glee they all felt.
Sholto saw the glint of steel in the woman's hand and guessed what she was about to do. There was no time to cry out a warning. Even as he moved to ensure a more accurate aim, he pulled out his dagger and hurled it. It troubled him as he watched his dagger bury itself deep into her chest, for she was, after all, a woman. He forced himself to remember all she had done and all she had intended to do.
Lady Mary felt a searing pain, and her dagger fell from her suddenly lifeless fingers. She stared dumbly at the hilt of the dagger protruding from her chest. Even as she sank to the dirt, she could not believe she was dying. A curse against Eldon formed on her tongue, but her life slipped from her grasp before she could utter it.
Eldon, his arm still draped around Storm's shoulders, looked down at Mary, then at Sholto, who had arrived to collect his knife. "God's toenails, I grow weary of owing you MacLagans a life."
"Take comfort, Eldon," drawled Colin as he joined the group. "We owe ye ours."
"Aye, you do. Where have all your men gone? Has Sir Hugh killed so many? Or is it true that he struck when you were at but half your strength?"
"At least half our men rode to Athdara. Now, about that ransom," he drawled.
Staring at the man, Eldon wondered a little wildly how a battle-scarred, dark-visaged Scot could look impish. A low chuckle started deep within him and quickly built to roaring laughter, which Colin shared. It soon spread to all around, save for the prisoners, who felt this hilarity in the face of their devastating defeat was somewhat callous. Another group that did not laugh was the newly returned force of men from Athdara, who had seen the clear signs of a fierce battle that was evidently over and had raced into Caraidland afraid of what awaited them there. The call to Athdara had been a false alarm, and they knew now that it had been part of a trap sprung upon Caraidland. They wondered at the sanity of their laird, who stood with an ancient enemy laughing and slapping backs as if they were the oldest and dearest of friends.
Tavis did not laugh either. The battle was over. Because of Eldon's part in the saving of Caraidland there would be no ransoming. Storm would simply leave with her father. He fought the urge to grab her and race for the hills, to kidnap her once again.
As the bodies began to be cleared away, women served ale to the men. Eldon had to smile as he saw how the Scots and the English stayed more or less separate and eyed each other warily. He then turned his full attention to the matter of Storm. She still stood with him and the rest of her family while Tavis stood at a distance, neither moving nor speaking. He wondered if they were going to resolve a great many problems by simply turning their backs on each other.
Storm looked toward Tavis, wondering why he stayed so far away. She felt a chill enter her blood as it seemed that he was staring right through her. Even as she told herself not to imagine the worst, to wait and give him more of a chance to speak up, she found herself bracing for the blow.
"We will take some of our dead home, MacLagan," Eldon said, "and what we leave behind is yours to toss away as you will. I recognize a few of the men. Hugh and my wife gathered some true scum round them. A troop of traitors, thieves and murderers. Hagaleah is choked with such refuse."
"Weel, I thank ye for saving us from that refuse. We had our backs to the wall. I admit it."
"While we are being so disgustingly honest, I will admit that I thought on waiting."
"I can understand why. Best way to weaken your enemy—sitting back and letting others do it. Why did ye change your thinking? Your lassie?"
"Nay. My nephews had reported that you would not trade her, and I knew that Sir Hugh would not kill her until the wedding vows were secured. I changed my mind because I was told that he had cried havoc. Not only is that forbidden, but I wanted no murder of women and babes to stain the name of Hagaleah or Eldon." He looked at Colin curiously. "Why would you not trade her for your son?"
"Did ye hear that that whoreson had grabbed her once?" Eldon nodded. "Then ye ken why. I couldnae give her o'er to that. Nay, especially not when I owe her my life. My wife was poisoning me and the lass kenned it, catching me back from
the brink o' death and naught less. It seems we share a deadly puir taste in the women, Eldon."
"Speak for yourself, MacLagan. I have found me a fine one and now I can wed her. Aye, and I should hie to it. If she hears that I have returned and naught else ..." He grimaced.
"She is not at the cottage, Papa. Ye have time. She also knows of the troubles, for they reached out to her, but she and the babes are well," Storm hastened to add. "They stay at her sister's."
"I think you have a tale or two to tell me, but it can wait. There are other things to speak on ere we go." He studied her carefully, yet kept a watch on Colin, who looked only mildly curious, but was in fact tensed for confrontation. "Do you have anything to talk to me about?"
It was hard, but Storm resisted the urge to look at Tavis and struggled to look mildly bewildered. "Such as?"
"Very well done, m'girl, but do not think to play that game with me. More than one has told me how things stand here, all that has gone on. What is done is done. The question I ask is what is to happen now?"
Storm looked at Tavis. It was up to him to speak. She felt her heart contract, break apart piece by piece as he stood silent. There was no need to speak of what her confession of love had meant to him. His silence was answer enough. As she had always feared, he had simply used her. She forced her pain aside so that she could face her father with some calm.
"We go home, Papa," she said quietly, suddenly needing to get away from Caraidland.
"Are you sure, sweeting?" He frowned, for she had gone somewhat pale.
"Very sure, Papa. When do we leave?"
"As soon as the horses are done being watered."
"I will be ready. Just let me go and see that I leave nothing behind."
She hurried off to the tower room, stopping briefly to bid a fleeting, tearful farewell to good friends she had made. It occurred to her as she hugged Maggie that she would probably never see any of them again, and she came very close to wailing like some starving baby. So, too, did she realize that she had hoped, even before she had heard that her father was dead, that her new friends would always be at hand. Even though they were but a few miles away it might as well be thousands.
When she reached the tower room she decided it had been a mistake to return to it. She hastily gathered up the few things she felt could be considered hers, anxious to leave a place that was choked with memories. The urge to hurl herself upon the bed and weep was almost too much to resist, but she knew she had to. If her father saw that she had been crying he would ask her why and, if she answered truthfully, there could be a great deal of trouble.
As she bent to pick up a hairpin, she felt her amulet shift beneath her gown. Slowly straightening up, she pulled it free and stared at it. It was supposed to be given to the man she loved. She would never love another man as she loved Tavis. Carefully, she removed the amulet and set it upon the pillow. When he saw it he might finally understand, but she would not allow herself to hope. All that mattered was that she loved him, would probably always love him, and so the amulet was his to wear if he chose to.
"He might as well have it, he has all else that is important to me save for my kin," she murmured bitterly, then shook her head. "Oh, Mama, why him?" She smiled faintly. "I imagine ye, and most like your kin as well, asked much the same. I tried to make him love me, Mama. No one can e'er say I did not try. It was not enough. I just hope that I can be healed of this wound."
She practically ran from the room, modifying her pace only when she felt there was a chance of someone seeing her. If nothing else, she would leave with dignity. No one would know how deeply she was hurting, nor guess that she had been fool enough to fall in love with her captor.
Andrew helped her secure her meager belongings to her mount. She was glad of his chatter and teasing, for it helped her in her desperate effort to maintain control. Usually he was very perceptive, but he was young and full of tales about his adventures in France. She tensed when Iain and Sholto arrived, for she feared they would speak on the very matter she sought to ignore.
"I dinnae ken what goes on," Sholto began, only to have Iain cuff him to shut him up.
"Take care, lassie." Iain hugged her and gave her a brief kiss, laughing softly when Sholto hurried to do the same. "Ye werenae too hard to bear, considering ye are a Sassanach."
Somehow she managed a weak smile in response to his teasing. So too was she able to smile for Colin when he bid her a gruff farewell, even though his eyes told her he saw more than she wished him to. He made no move to alter the way things were headed, however, and moments later she rode away from Caraidland with her family. She did not look back, fighting the urge and trying to believe that it was all for the best, that such a pairing could never have worked out.
Eldon frowned as he studied his daughter. She was pale and far too quiet. There was pain flickering in her eyes when her calm poise occasionally slipped. She said nothing; made no demands concerning Tavis MacLagan. Eldon began to wonder if the pair had really been lovers, but then he shook his head. Too many people had said they were. Mayhaps they were taking the most sensible route, the one of the least difficulty for either of their families. It was best for all of them, but Eldon withheld judgment for the moment. She might yet have something to tell him or ask of him.
Colin watched the Eldon group ride away. For whatever reasons, he owed Roden Eldon the life of his whole clan. He felt it might be for the best if the ancient antagonisms were finally laid to rest. It was something to think about. He turned to look at Tavis, who still stood in the same spot.
"Tavis," he began as he moved toward his son, who looked very pale and much as if he were in shock.
"Nay," Tavis rasped as he suddenly moved. "Nay, not a word. I willnae speak on it, Father."
He hurried away before his father could press him on the matter, ask for explanations. With each step he took he gained speed until he was racing through the halls of Caraidland. When he found himself in the tower room he was not really surprised, but cursed viciously, for it was the last place he wished to be. Moving quickly to the window, he stared toward the south, but not even the dust raised by their passage lingered behind the Eldons. They were really gone, on their way back to England and Hagaleah, riding even further out of his reach, even deeper into hostile territory.
Groaning in despair, he pressed his forehead against the cool stone. Eldon's arrival had been both a blessing and a curse. The man had ensured the survival of the MacLagan clan, but he had taken Storm.
"But what could I do?" he asked of the empty room. "She is a Sassanach. She is an Eldon. Twa enemies bound together in one wee lass. She doesnae belong here. The man wouldnae have let her stay. Nay, not to warm a Scot's bed. There was naught I could say," he moaned as he fought to banish the memory of her stricken face when she had turned to him, waiting for him to speak, and he had remained silent.
It hurt, and he had the chilling feeling that now, when it was too late, he understood. He felt as if a large and important part of him had been torn away. It was a deep wound, and he began to fear that it was one that would never heal quite right, that what scar remained would always be easily scratched open to bleed freely again. The worst of it all was that he felt sure the wound was mostly self-inflicted.
His gaze fell to the bed and his breath caught in his throat. Slowly he moved to the bed and, with a trembling hand, he picked up the amulet. A convulsive sob wracked his frame as he clutched it. She had meant every word she had said. Unable to stop himself, he began to weep, for he saw with agonizing clarity all he had just let ride away.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Storm glared at her reflection in the mirror. It told her exactly what she did not care to know. Her hand rested over the swell of her abdomen and then clenched into a fist. She could no longer hide the truth. The pregnancy she had fought to conceal now defeated her, her belly rounding more every day at a nearly alarming rate, or so it seemed to her.
Suddenly, she was swept by a wave of desolation. She
sat on the edge of her bed and covered her face with her hands as she fought the urge to weep. The man who had planted the seed, the man she loved, ought to be with her. She should not have to hide the fact that she carried his child, should not have to fear making the announcement to her father. It should be a time of joy and anticipation. She found it easy to curse Tavis for stealing that from her as well.
It was with great effort that she put aside what she felt was harmful self-pity. There was too much to do and she needed strength to face it all. If nothing else, her father would at least gain a good reason for why she had refused two attractive betrothal offers, begged him not to make the arrangements, and continued to dampen the interest of any and all young men who looked her way. She was lucky she had a father who allowed her such scandalous freedom in the matter of choosing a husband.
She grimaced as she thought of those young men. There had been a few who had thought her free for the grabbing, but mostly it seemed her stay with the MacLagans and her undoubted loss of chastity was accepted as a battle casualty. She suspected her family's wealth and power had a great deal to do with that unusual tolerance. So, too, the fact that her father let most any man court her if she had no objections, asking only that the man she chose be a good man. Many a landless knight saw what a rare opportunity that was. The tolerance was nice all the same, no matter what lay behind it.
She had, however, not even tried to soften toward one of the suitors. Although any could accept that she had lost her chastity, she was certain none of them would accept a MacLagan bastard. Neither could she take a husband when her heart and passion were still held captive at Caraidland.
Straightening her shoulders, she told herself firmly to cease dawdling and tell her father. She did not get very far before she decided to speak to Elaine first. It would not hurt to have an ally.
His Bonnie Bride Page 24