One & Only

by Kara Griffin

“Please, I don’t …” Bree ceased talking when her voice faltered.

  He petted her hair. “I won’t hurt ye. Did we scare you, locking you in the chamber?”

  “Aye,” she said low.

  “Aw, pretty lass, don’t worry. You won’t go in there again. I want to see you.” He began pulling at her gown, tearing the beautiful bodice.

  Bree fell to her knees and tried to refute him by curling up so he couldn’t have access to her. His body came at her, and she fell back against a trunk that sat next to the bed. Taking the dagger from her satchel, Bree gripped it tightly. The object felt heavy in her hand. She wasn’t one to ever use a weapon, but knew she must.

  “Ah, ye want me too, lass?” MacWilliams was demented. He wrestled with her clothing and she fought him from lifting her skirts when she felt his slimy hand on her calf.

  When he tried to kiss her, Bree had no choice. She brought the dagger down as hard as she could and thrust it into his back.

  MacWilliams gasped. He scowled and gave a crazed look, his eyes dark with fury and disbelief. Still, he had enough strength go grip her neck and tightened his hold to choke her. His weight was substantial against her, and she couldn’t push him away.

  He continued to paw her with his other hand, and then she yanked her dagger from his back and thrust it again with all her might. Bree kept thrusting the blade, mindlessly. It must have struck him in a significant spot, because finally he ceased moving. His open eyes stared at her. The pressure from his hand lessened and then it fell away. She took deep garish breaths.

  He was dead.

  Bree shoved him away from her with shaking hands. MacWilliams rolled on to his stomach, upon the floor. Her breath hitched as she stared at his unmoving form with the dagger sticking from his back. She’d killed him. Unable to stop herself, she gagged and bile came out of her mouth. She wiped her lips with her sleeve and cried.

  All she wanted at that moment was to be away – be in a kitchen somewhere making a delicious meal. She’d hold a spoon and would stir the pottage or whatever she was making … Aye, a nice fat candied goose with all the trimmings. Bree considered she’d gone mad thinking such thoughts.

  The terror of what she had done convulsed her stomach and she heaved at the form lying nearby. Bree scrambled back and tried to gain her footing, but she fell backward and hit her head against the edge of the doorjamb. Stinging tears and flashes came to her eyes and everything blurred.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Gordy reached the Ross holding in the wee hours of the day and quickly dismounted, leaving the steed untethered, and ran into the castle. He wanted to impart what he’d heard, and would only do so to the king as he was bid.

  From the amount of people still milling around the great hall, he knew the king still resided at the Ross’ keep. It was late enough that all should have taken to bed. But many of those in the hall were men who played card games and drank ale and wine.

  Gordy looked around for Laird Ross or one of his laird’s guards, in hopes they could tell him where to find the king. He saw them standing at the end of the hall, their face reflecting a grim mien.

  “Greer, I have returned.” Gordy’s breath rasped from his mad dash inside the hall and his quick search for them. “Where is the king?”

  “He’s sitting yonder at the table there,” he said pointing in the king’s direction. “Where is milady?” Greer grabbed his shirt and pulled him forward. “You left her there?”

  “I had no choice. The king bid me to report to him. I came with the news so he would release my laird. Milady needs him.”

  Greer released his tunic and said low, “What news have ye to report?”

  “Come with me. I could use support whilst I give my news to the king.” Gordy led the procession to where the king sat and he bowed before looking at him.

  “Lad, you have returned. Have you news?”

  “Aye, my lord, I do.”

  Laird Ross stood and told them to follow. Gordy trailed behind the king and the Gunn guardsmen trailed behind him. They entered Ross’ solar and the king turned as soon as the door was closed.

  “Tell me, what news do you bring?”

  Gordy swallowed his fear and began, “My lord, milady told me to pretend I was deaf so I might overhear about the revolt or anything that might help us learn who is behind the threat.

  “Ye see, women are the best spies,” the king said.

  “MacHeth does conspire against ye, but he is not the leader. There were another man there, Domnall MacWilliams. He wants your crown, my lord.”

  The king growled and fist punched his hand. “I should have known. MacHeth deems himself to be laird of Ross, but he doesn’t have the wherewithal to go against you, Donal. And he gets MacWilliams, that dog, to covet my crown so he can gain his wont through MacWilliams. MacWilliams declared long ago that he had rights to the crown. His rights are nil and he shall not prevail in this attempt.” Alexander wasn’t listening; he paced before the group, deep in thought and then stopped and waited for Gordy to continue.

  “They have forces all ready on the way to confront your soldiers, sire. Said they would revolt at Kinloss. But I fear for milady.”

  He went to the door and called forth his man-at-arms and gave direction to send messages to his armies and allies. He turned back to them and said, “We will thwart these banshees who aim to take my crown! I must go to Kinloss immediately.”

  Gordy stepped forward, blocking the doorway, and had blatantly forced the king to wait and attend him, blocking his hasty exit. It took much courage to step in front of the king, but he had no choice. His laird’s lady was in danger.

  “There is more, my lord. MacHeth told milady that she wasn’t a Mackay, that she were born a bastard.”

  “Albrey is not a Mackay,” the king said low. He laughed in a mocking bellow.

  Gordy nodded. He was afraid the king would strike him when a look of anger overtook his face. Gordy stepped backward and noticed the Gunn guard standing behind him in full support.

  “I heard rumors, but … I cannot deal with this situation now. I must depart to meet this rebellion. Donal, you can release Gunn when I am gone. Have him go to the lass. Then you both shall meet me on the field. I expect ye both there posthaste in support. I am away.” Alexander sauntered from the room and with a bang to the door disappeared.

  “Let us release your laird,” Ross said.

  Gordy walked with the Gunn guard and followed Ross out of the chamber. Through the castle’s great room, they marched with conviction and all those quickly moved aside. He was proud of his laird’s guard, for no other was as fiercely dedicated or as commanding.

  When they reached the underground, they all stood near the bars, Donal unlocked the gate and called to Grey.

  His laird was sitting on the floor with his back to the wall. When he saw them, he got up and walked through the opening without a word to anyone. Greer handed him his sword and other belongings the king’s men had taken.

  His laird didn’t bother sheathing the sword, but held it tightly in his hand. He kept going, taking the steps to the upper level. He did not speak and or wished to be spoken to. Gordy had to run to keep up with him. His laird shoved several knights out of his way as he made his way through the great hall.

  The Gunn guard followed and each looked more ireful than he’d ever seen them. His laird reached the hall exit and went out the door. He kept walking until he reached the stables and motioned for his guard to mount their steeds.

  Laird Ross stood before the entrance of the keep in the courtyard waiting for them to ride through. “Grey, await.”

  “Donal, I won’t forgive this.” Grey sheathed his sword, raised himself upon his horse, and didn’t show any expression.

  “Grey, what could I do? My hands were tied. I couldn’t go against the king. Come now, don’t go away surly.”

  “If anything happens to Bree, consider yourself at war. If I have to war against every god dammed clan in the Highlands, then I will.”


  “She will be well. I have faith.”

  “I don’t have as much faith as you.” Grey shouted out his war cry, turned his horse, and trotted through the courtyard and past the walls of the gatehouse until he was riding down the hill into the thick forest surrounding Ross land. It was there he stopped and waited for his men.

  “Tell me, Gordy, is Bree all right?”

  “I know not, Laird. When I left she was well. She bid me to leave her. I rode posthaste to come and get you. I fear for her. That place is hell on earth.”

  Grey nodded. “Come, let us ride. Gordy, tell me what happened. How did my lady fare?”

  Gordy sat upon his horse and rode next to his laird and explained all that had happened. He also told them how Bree was fearless.

  “Of course, milady is fearless, she’s a Gunn. She’s going to wed our laird,” Greer said, trying to make light of the situation. But none of the men heeded his jest. A serious mien came over them. The guard wore fierce expressions.

  “Och Laird, there is one wee thing I need to tell you.” Gordy wasn’t sure how he would take the news that milady was not a Mackay. “MacHeth told milady that she wasn’t a Mackay, that she were born a bastard, said he was there the night she was delivered to Lady Mackay. He’s a swine and needs killing.”

  “God Almighty! Cosh, if that don’t beat all.” Grey nudged is horse. “Well, it doesn’t matter to me if she is a Mackay or nay. Let us go and kill the devil.”

  * * *

  At the rendezvous location, in the dense forest adjacent to the MacHeth holding, Grey met up with his soldiers. Nearly one hundred men had come, bearing arms and ready to take the castle by force. Something wasn’t right. It was too quiet.

  As they approached, there didn’t seem to be anyone protecting the walls or the entry gatehouse. The Gunns were able to walk through the portcullis and then on to the main keep without sounding an alarm.

  Duff greeted him. “Laird, we seen no one leave since we got here. Been watching for nigh on two days.”

  Grey frowned, assessing the structure of the building. “They must be using the tunnels.”

  “Let us go and retrieve milady,” Gordy said.

  “This is strange. Gordy, were there many here when you left?”

  Gordy stood by, shaking his head. “Nay, Laird, MacHeth had sent many of his men to the fray all ready. There weren’t men remaining when I left to deliver the message to the king.”

  Grey realized that it was likely too that MacHeth and MacWilliams had gone to the battle as well. At least he could get Bree and take her to safety before he would go and confront them.

  Inside the hall, no noise came from within the structure. It seemed vacated as well. But Grey had a gut feeling someone was there. He saw an old woman hiding behind a chair. She was frail and looked to be starving.

  “Come, we won’t harm ye and only seek answers.”

  The woman stood, and even so didn’t rise up much. “Why have ye come?”

  “I am looking for the lady.”

  She nodded. “Aye, she be here, up there,” she said, pointing upward.

  Grey left the woman and only bid his guard to follow. Duff, Greer, Kenneth, Colm, James, Sean, and Gordy took the stairs with him. He bid Gordy show him which chamber Bree was placed in. When he reached the door, he hesitated, listening for sounds from within. But there were no sounds and all he could hear was the stiff wind outside thrashing the castle and whistling at the turrets.

  He opened the door, having to shove it hard to get it to open. Grey looked ahead and saw a body lying on the floor next to the bed. A good amount of blood stained the floorboards. He whistled low. The man had been done in.

  Greer stopped Grey with his hand. “That’s your dagger, Laird, sticking from his back. I gave it to milady for her protection.”

  Grey approached the body and yanked the dagger out, swiping it a few times on the dead man’s tunic to clean off the blood, and then handed it to Greer. When he turned, he saw her. She lay on the floor behind the doorway, and appeared to be harmed, mayhap dead. His breath caught in his throat and all the anguish of all the years he’d been without her came back to him in a rush. She couldn’t be harmed. He couldn’t be without her again.

  Kneeling next to her, he touched her face and moved aside some of her lochs of hair. Her eyes fluttered. “Bree, are you … can you sit up? Speak to me. Are ye hurt?”

  “I can’t cook supper this night, Cait. I don’t feel well.” Bree closed her eyes again.

  Duff knelt next to him. “Think ye she’s gone addled?”

  “From the look of it, she put up a fight.” Grey was sickened by the thought she’d had to defend herself and kill someone. The poor lass. He held her in his arms and smoothed her hair. She looked like hell. Her garments were torn and blood covered parts of her. “Bree, come now, awaken. Are you all right?”

  “Grey,” she whispered. “Don’t let them eat me.”

  He frowned at that. “No one wants to eat you, sweetheart. Who is the man?”

  “MacWilliams.” Bree closed her eyes again and slumped in his arms.

  “Milady has a good knock on ‘er head,” Duff said. “I can see the rise. What do ye think she meant by that? Mayhap she is a wee bit addled.”

  “God Almighty. I deem she’s gone through hell, that’s what I think.” Grey stood, gently lifting her, and handed Bree to Greer. “Hold her for me.” He unsheathed his sword and walked toward MacWilliams’ body. Once there, he looked down at the swine shit and knew what he had to do. With both arms on the hilt of his sword, he brought it down and hacked at the man’s head. It took only three attempts to behead the swine. Then Grey stripped his plaid from his chest and rolled MacWilliams’ head in it.

  His guard watched with pride, and when he was finished the task, he handed the baggage to Kenneth. “Go with Sean and deliver this to King Alexander.”

  “Shall we tell him who it’s from?” Kenneth asked.

  “Nay, the Gunn plaid will tell him.”

  Grey wanted to get out of the stinking castle and get Bree home. There, he would see to it she was taken care of and never put in harm’s way again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  A beautiful dream came to her. Bree smiled in her sleep. Looking at her hands, she realized she was young, quite young. She ran along and turned to see a lad chasing her. The lad caught up to her and tackled her on the grass. Laughter came from them both. The lad’s silver eyes held her entranced and she knew in her heart she loved him. His eyes were the color of the fancy goblet her mother drank from. Bree threw the sweet cake at the lad and then she envisioned hugging him.

  Why she felt protected, she didn’t know, but they whispered together. She was lulled to sleep with the comfort of her thumb and sweet thoughts. Then darkness came, she was lifted by a man and carried away. She cried and stretched her arms out, hoping someone would come and help her. But no one did.

  * * *

  Noise awakened her. Bree thought she was strapped to the bedding for all she could move. Every muscle ached. She groaned at the heaviness of her limbs. Her head pounded a little and it hurt to open her eyes, so she kept them closed. Someone was in the room with her and that scared her. If MacWilliams hadn’t died as she thought, he could harm her more so. With that, she forced herself to peek between the slits of her eyes.

  Amazed to find herself in the chamber she shared with Cait at the Gunn keep, she relaxed. She saw Bea and Cait standing at the foot of the bed, they spoke quietly. Cait looked solemn and her eyes showed worry. Bree kept her gaze fixed on Cait when she noticed she’d awakened.

  Relieved to see her, Bree moaned. “I’m home?”

  “My girl, you live. Come, drink this.” Cait held a cup to mouth and she drank small sips. “I thought you were dead when they brought ye. Never been so scared, Bree.”

  “I am so happy to see you, Cait.” She took hold of her friend’s hand and gently squeezed it. “I had to go to MacHeth. It was the most frightening place I
’d ever seen.”

  “You sound like ye been to hell and back. What happened to your voice?”

  Bree sounded like a frog which had been stretched to the limit. She didn’t recognize her own deep raspy voice. She tried to sit up, but didn’t have the strength to do so.

  “What happened to me? Am I injured?” She couldn’t remember if she hurt herself if the struggle with MacWilliams.

  “Appears ye hit your head. I didn’t see any other wounds, Bree. You’ll be well again soon. Rest. I’ll let the laird know you are awake.”

  “He’s free?”

  Cait touched her face. “Aye, he is. And he’s been wanting to see you, keeps coming by and asking if ye stirred. He’ll be happy you have awakened.”

  Bea gently lifted her head and fluffed the pillow and then pulled the cover over her shoulders. “I am glad you are alive, milady.”

  Her words shocked Bree. That was the last thing she’d ever expected to hear from the woman. Before she could say anything, Bea turned and left the room.

  Sounds retreated and Bree closed her eyes again. The next thing she knew, someone was touching her face. She didn’t have to open her eyes to know it was Grey.

  “You came for me.” Seeing him made Bree want to cry with joy, but she suppressed the emotion.

  “Of course, the minute they let me out of the damned dungeon. How are you?”

  Bree sighed. His voice sounded so nice, deep, and it warmed her. She spread her arms and hoped he would join her. He gently lay next to her and cuddled by her side.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t. I’m a bit sore, but am not hurt. Mayhap my head hurts a little.”

  He kissed her forehead.

  “That feels nice.”

  “Anywhere else?”

  “Mayhap here,” she said pointing to her cheek. He kissed her on her cheek. “And mayhap here,” she said pointing to her lips.

  His lips brushed hers in a sweet touch.

  “I dreamed about you. You were a young lad and chased me.”