by Lynsay Sands
James Innes raised his eyebrows. “That was a kindness on yer part.”
“Apparently, no’ as kind as ye’d think,” Geordie said dryly. “She misconstrued me actions and decided I must love her . . . and so did everyone else.”
“Even I thought he might have finer feelings for the maid,” Aulay admitted on a sigh. “I was waiting for him to approach me about taking her as a bride if she recovered. When Katie was well along the path to healing and yet he did no’ do that, I brought the subject up with him.”
“And that’s when I realized what I’d done,” Geordie said grimly. “I stayed away from her after that, but she was near to healed by that point anyway, and was below stairs days later. She followed me around after that, giving me calf eyes, always there to fill me mug ere it was even empty, bringing me food at every turn, and offering me herself at every opportunity. ’Twas a relief to get away and go help Conran with his brother-in-law, the MacLeod,” he admitted. “When I returned and heard she’d been seeing Simon while I was gone, I thought mayhap everything would settle down now.” Grimacing, he scrubbed his face with his hands, and said, “I’m thinking now though that I was wrong.”
There was silence for a minute, and then Aulay said, “’Tis possible we’re wrong about this instead. She’s always been very pleasant to Dwyn in my presence.”
“Aye, she has in front o’ me too,” Geordie admitted. “And while Dwyn probably would no’ have said anything, I’m sure Una or Aileen would have mentioned if any o’ the servants had been anything but pleasant to Dwyn. But,” he continued quickly when Aulay opened his mouth to speak, “Katie offered herself to me after the sup the night after I returned. ’Twas an hour or so ere Dwyn stepped in the glass,” he added to make sure they knew which night. He’d returned in the middle of the night before the incident he was talking about. Now he said, “I refused, o’ course, but when I said I thought she was seeing Simon now, she shrugged and made it obvious that did no’ matter. She’d toss him over for me.” He allowed a moment for that to sink in and then pointed out, “Besides, ye said she claimed Simon fell off the horse behind her after being wounded and the mount spooked and fled.”
“Aye,” Aulay agreed, obviously not understanding what that had to do with anything.
“If she was seated in front o’ him, how was Simon gutted behind her by anyone but her?” he asked simply.
Aulay’s head went back as if Geordie had punched him. When it came back down his expression was cold. Nodding, he opened the door. “I’ll send Katie up with water.”
“Ye ken Simon wanted to marry Katie,” Rory said solemnly as the door closed behind Aulay.
Geordie turned to peer at his younger brother, amazed to realize he’d forgotten all about his even being in the room he’d been so quiet. “Nay, I did no’ ken that.”
“He told me that just yesterday,” Rory said sadly, and then asked, “What are ye going to do once Katie gets here?”
Geordie was silent for a moment, thinking that this was his fault. That he should have told Simon Katie wasn’t faithful and had tried to get him to sleep with her. Perhaps he would have broken off with her. Perhaps he wouldn’t have ridden out with her today. Perhaps he’d still be alive and Dwyn would still be here rather than captured by a man who meant her nothing but harm.
Sighing, Geordie straightened his shoulders, and said, “I’m going to get her to admit what she’s done and tell me where Brodie has Dwyn.”
Rory nodded and began to gather his medicinals. “We should leave, then.”
Baron Innes didn’t argue and Geordie soon found himself alone, waiting for someone he hoped like hell could tell him where his wife was. Because if he was wrong about this, he didn’t know how they’d find Dwyn.
“Surely ye do no’ expect me to believe that nonsense, lass? Ye’re no’ married to Geordie Buchanan. Ye canno’ be!”
Dwyn tore her gaze from Father Machar, who sat tied up in the corner of the tent, and turned to peer at Faolan Brodie. “Why? Because it disrupts yer plans to force me to marry ye?”
She watched the rage grow on the man’s face and braced herself to be hit, but he merely roared, “Nay! Because there’s been no wedding! Katie made sure o’ it. The last thing she wanted was for you to marry Geordie Buchanan. She wants him for herself. ’Tis why when he started paying ye too much attention she spread glass on the floor outside the garderobe, and why when that did no’ work she poisoned yer drink. It was all to keep ye away from Geordie.”
“Katie? The maid?” Dwyn asked with amazement.
“Aye, sweet wee Katie the maid,” Brodie said with a laugh, and took great pleasure in telling her, “Apparently, yer betrothed was tupping wee Katie not so long ago and then sat at her bedside night and day for two weeks while she was recovering from an injury. She’s sure he loves her and that only his brother’s disapproval stands between them. She plans on removing that obstacle soon enough, but first she has to be rid o’ you ere ye can marry the bastard and steal him out from under her nose. And since I did no’ want ye marrying the bastard either, because I wanted ye fer meself, it behooved us to work together.”
Dwyn stared at Brodie, but wasn’t really seeing him. She was trying to come to grips with the fact that the sweet, smiling maid, Katie, was a murderous, two-faced bitch. She could hardly credit it. The girl had been nothing but kind to her, always eager to help, always carrying trays of food up for her . . . well, food trays meant for Geordie while he was ill, she realized. But Katie was also always offering to fetch wildflowers to scent the rushes in . . . what was essentially his room. Besides, it was probably when she was able to slip away to meet Brodie. Still, she was always nearby, smiling and refreshing their drinks, bringing the platters of food to them . . . Perhaps she’d always refreshed Geordie’s drink first, and moved on to fill Dwyn’s only when Geordie pointed out her drink could use topping up as well, and perhaps the platter had been held between them and a little closer to Geordie than her, but— Dear Lord, the woman was crazy in love with Geordie, Dwyn realized.
She took a moment to accept that, and then cleared her throat and asked, “How do ye ken Katie?” Dwyn had barely asked the question when another was shooting from her mouth. “And how did ye even ken me family was here?”
Brodie scowled briefly, but then said, “I kenned ye were here thanks to Deoiridh.”
Dwyn blinked. “Deoiridh, the chambermaid at Innes?”
“Aye. Her sister married one o’ me men some years back and lives at Brodie. The two visit though, and when last she visited, yer Deoiridh apparently told her sister—me man’s wife—all about the Buchanan bridal hunt business, and that ye were on yer way here. He, in turn, passed the information on to me. Unfortunately,” he added grimly, “that was near a week after ye’d already left fer Buchanan. So, while I gathered me men together and rode out almost at once, ye were already at Buchanan before we caught up to ye. The best I could do was camp here on MacGregor land, and send a handful o’ men to lay low in the woods o’ Buchanan to watch the keep for an opportunity to steal ye away.”
He scowled at the inconvenience of it all, and then continued. “And that is how I encountered the lass.”
“You were in the woods with yer men?” Dwyn asked uncertainly.
“Nay.” He scowled at the very thought. “But she ran into me men in the woods the night she poisoned ye.” Smiling suddenly, he said, “Apparently, all the Buchanans were fussing over ye while ye were retching, including Geordie Buchanan, which was the exact opposite o’ what she’d intended with the poison. She left the keep in a fine dander, and headed down to the loch to try to come up with another way to be rid o’ ye. But she got distracted when she met me men. She serviced all o’ them fer a coin, and as she did, they asked her a lot o’ questions about you. Katie asked questions o’ her own in return, and when she realized I wanted to marry ye, she demanded to be brought to me. She told them she could help.”
Smiling, Brodie shrugged. “And she did in the end
. Katie’s the one who came to fetch me with the news that ye were out o’ the keep and at the waterfall with Geordie.”
Dwyn stiffened at this news, her mouth tightening, and Brodie grinned, obviously recognizing her dismay and enjoying it.
“How else did ye think we came to be there waiting in the woods along the path at just the right time?” he asked with amusement.
Dwyn’s gaze narrowed on him grimly. “So ye killed Simon and . . .” Her words trailed off even before he started to shake his head. The timing for that didn’t seem right. Simon had been dead for hours when they’d found him. Brodie wouldn’t have waited there along the path for hours; it would have been too dangerous. He would have come for them at the waterfall, and got off Buchanan land and back home as quick as he could.
“If Simon is the man who was lying on the path, ’twas Katie who killed him,” Brodie said now. “She needed a horse to get to us since me men could no longer hide in the woods after two o’ me men were killed and the others chased off. I had to sit idly by and wait here for any news she could slip out to give us when she was supposed to be gathering flowers, or performing other duties.”
Mouth tightening, he admitted, “I was angry at her for killing the warrior when I heard what she’d done, but ’twas handy in the end,” he said dryly. “It was spying the body on the path that told us ye’d no’ yet returned to the keep from the waterfall. The body would have been gone otherwise. But ’twas late, nearly time fer the sup by the time we got to Buchanan, and we feared missing ye did we travel through the woods to the loch to get ye, so we waited in the trees fer yer return.”
Dwyn closed her eyes briefly, the panicked worry that she had to get away and get back to Buchanan before Katie poisoned or otherwise killed Aulay Buchanan rushing around inside her head. She couldn’t let Katie kill him; she liked Geordie’s brother Aulay. Aside from that though, Geordie loved him and would be crushed was he murdered on his account.
“So,” Brodie said. “Now ye ken I know ye’re no’ married. And all ye’ve managed to do with yer attempt to convince me ye are is anger me further. Because now that the priest kens ye do no’ want to marry me, I’ll have to bribe him with coin to get him to overlook that fact and get him to wed us. Something else I’ll have to punish ye for once we’re back at Innes.”
Dwyn wanted to think that the priest couldn’t be bought that way, but she wasn’t sure. She was sure he wouldn’t marry them though, if he was convinced she was already married. So she opened her eyes, and let her lips spread in a wide smile.
Brodie frowned, obviously knocked a bit off-kilter by her reaction to his threat.
Before he could speak, she said, “The thing I find most amusing is that ’tis the actions o’ both you and Katie that actually saw me wed to Geordie Buchanan.”
“What?” he squawked with disbelief.
“When me feet got sliced up by the glass ye say Katie is responsible for, I could no’ walk. Geordie is the one who carried me everywhere afterward for the next two days and nights, and that certainly pushed us closer together,” she told him, and explained, “It was the second day o’ his carrying me about that we ended up alone in the orchards so that me feet could dry out in the sun, and that is where he first almost made love to me. He carried me back inside and, although I did no’ ken it at the time, while his brother Rory tended me feet, Geordie went to Aulay and me father to have the marriage contracts drawn up.”
She let that sink in and then added, “That was when I was poisoned. A terribly unpleasant experience, by the by. I was very sick . . . and ’twas Geordie who tended me and held me while I retched through the night. We fell asleep together on his bed after one such round o’ retching, and I woke in the morning still in his arms.”
Brodie was starting to flush almost purple with his rage, but she continued. “O’ course, having slept through the better part o’ the day, Geordie knew we would no’ sleep that night. We’d be the only ones awake, and because he’s an honorable man, and because he did no’ think he could resist anticipating our wedding through that night, he got me father’s permission to handfast.” She met his gaze as she added, “So ye see, if no’ for Katie, I might no’ even have handfasted with Geordie.”
“The stupid bitch,” Brodie breathed furiously.
“Oh, it gets better, m’laird,” Dwyn assured him with amusement. “Because that night we knew we’d no’ sleep was the night we went to the loch where yer men tried to drag me off, then wounded Geordie before he could kill them both. And that is why I am now married. Because when I got him back to the keep, Father Archibald came to give him the sacraments o’ the dying, and Geordie asked him to marry us in case he died.” She allowed a moment for that to sink in and then announced, “We were married in his room, both o’ us in pain and bleeding, with me father, me sisters and his brothers Rory, Alick and Aulay and Aulay’s wife, Jetta, as witnesses.”
Meeting his gaze she said firmly, “I am married, m’laird. The wedding at Innes is merely to allow the rest o’ his family, and me people at Innes, to witness it and welcome their new laird, Geordie Buchanan.”
Sitting back, she shrugged. “So ye see, I should really thank both you and Katie. If no’ fer what she and yer men did, presumably under yer order, I’m no’ sure Geordie and I would be married now at all. We may no’ even have been betrothed.”
Judging by the fury building on Brodie’s face, Dwyn gathered the man finally believed she was married to Geordie. Now she just had to worry that he might kill her for it.
Chapter 17
“Oh, Geordie, me poor sweet man, I’m ever so glad to see ye awake and recovering.”
Geordie stiffened at those words as Katie hurried into the room, but forced himself to relax. Turning his head, he watched dispassionately as she rushed around to where he sat on the side of the bed with his feet in the rushes.
“Thank goodness I found ye and was able to get ye back here for Rory to heal,” the maid said as she placed the ewer and bowl on the bedside table. Turning to peer at him then, she shook her head unhappily. “Ye’re soaked in blood.”
“Most o’ it is Simon’s,” he pointed out, his voice even. “I’m sorry ye lost him, lass. I ken ye were lovers.”
Katie blinked, and toned down the smiling, replacing it with a sad moue. “Aye, well, I liked him well enough, but I did no’ love him. No’ like I do you.”
Geordie ignored that and lowered his head. “I loved him. He was like a brother to me.”
“Well . . .” Katie paused and was silent so long he almost raised his head, but then she said with practicality, “Fortunately, ye’ve six true brothers still alive and well. Here, let me help ye out o’ yer clothes so we can get ye cleaned up.”
Geordie caught her hands as she reached for the pin of his plaid, and squeezed firmly, barely keeping himself from breaking her fingers as he growled, “And Dwyn is gone. Taken by that bastard Brodie. He’s probably torturing and killing her as we speak.”
“Nonsense,” Katie snapped, trying to tug her hands free. “All he wants is to marry her. She’ll be fine. And ye’re better off without her. She was no’ right fer ye anyway. She could no’ make ye happy like I can.”
Geordie raised his head and speared her with cold eyes. “But I do no’ want you. I want her. And she does make me happy. ’Tis why I married her.”
“You— She— Ye’re no’ married,” she got out at last. “The wedding was to take place at Innes. And ye do no’ love her. Ye love me. ’Tis only Aulay that made ye end our relationship. I ken that. One minute we were playing Nine Men’s Morris and laughing, and then he came to the room and took ye away to talk, and ye never came back. I ken he made ye stay away from me after that. I ken ye love me, Geordie. Ye do no’ have to pretend anymore that ye do no’. I’ve taken care o’ everything. Aulay’ll no’ interfere after tonight, I promise. Ye’ll be able to live yer life as ye please and we can marry and ye can love me openly.”
Geordie stared at her, his brain sudde
nly sending out a loud alarm in his head. Releasing her abruptly, he stood and walked to the door. Much to his relief, he opened it to find Aulay and every one of his, as well as Dwyn’s, family members standing there. They were waiting in the hall, offering silent support and staying near in case he needed them. They’d probably heard most, if not all, of what Katie had just said. Still, he met Aulay’s gaze and murmured, “Do no’ eat or drink anything until we ken how she’s taken care o’ ye.”
Aulay nodded and then said in a voice low enough it wouldn’t carry into the room, “I spoke to one o’ the men who were on the wall when Katie and Simon rode out. Ye’re right. Katie was sitting in front o’ Simon. He could no’ have been stabbed, let alone gutted, by anyone but her in that position.”
Geordie grunted and closed the door.
“Who were ye talking to?” Katie asked with a frown as he started back across the room. “Who’s out there?”
Geordie didn’t answer. Instead, he caught her by the throat and drove her backward until she was pinned against the wall. He didn’t have the patience to try to trick her into a confession. Besides, she’d already given enough away.
Eyes wide, Katie gasped for the air he was choking off and grabbed at his hand, trying to pull it away.
“I am married to Dwyn,” he assured her coldly. “Father Archibald married us the night Brodie’s man ran me through with a sword. After he gave me the sacraments o’ the dying, I asked him to marry us. Because I love her. And he did,” Geordie told her grimly. “Now where is me wife?”