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When a Warrior Woos a Lass

Page 23

by Johnstone, Julie


  “Look at me,” she begged, cupping his cheeks.

  He’d not have been able to deny the request even if he’d wanted to. He loved her. He loved her to the depths of his soul. Her smile, her goodness, and her love for him filled him with unspeakable hope that he both feared and craved. He wanted to breathe her in as a deep, cleansing breath and be made anew by their love.

  His eyes met her shining blue ones, and the compassion he saw there ripped a ragged noise from him.

  “I love ye,” she whispered. “Ye did nae fail Thomas. Ye were but a lad. Forgive yerself.”

  He nodded, feeling almost as if hearing her say the words released him from that long-held guilt. She kissed him gently and then pressed her cheek to his chest as she slipped between his thighs. “Ye gave me back my strength, Alex.” She pulled away to look at him. “Ye have always been strong, but ye became lost in grief and shame. Let me be the flame to lead ye through the darkness. As one, let us be stronger than our enemies.”

  Such relief washed over him that he sagged against her. “Aye,” he finally said when his throat unclenched. “Together, we will conquer our enemies.”

  But how? They had to get past the guards to the dungeon without anyone being alerted. They only had the night to rescue Lachlan and ride hard to the Fraser hold and to the Grant hold to convince both men to pledge their loyalty to the king once more.

  “My head aches,” Lena mumbled, interrupting Alex’s thoughts.

  He pressed a kiss to his wife’s temple. “Ye’re tired.”

  “Nay. I believe it is the potion that Euphemia gave me. It made me unable to move and then put me to sleep.”

  God’s teeth! That was it!

  Alex grabbed Lena by the face and kissed her on the mouth. When he pulled back, she looked befuddled. “I love yer kisses, but what was that for?”

  He chuckled. “Ye gave me an idea on how we can get past the men guarding the dungeon to rescue yer brother.”

  “How?” she asked, excitement in her voice.

  “I need to get my hands on that potion Euphemia gave ye,” he said slowly, knowing Lena would not like it.

  She surprised him by nodding, though a fierce frown marred her face. “Aye,” she agreed, “that would be the best way. Once ye attain the potion, though, how will we manage to get the guards to drink the poisoned wine or mead?”

  Alex thought on that a moment. The idea that came to him was not one he cared for, but it was likely their best chance. “Ye will get them to drink it.”

  “Me?” she gasped.

  “Aye.” His gut clenched just thinking about allowing Lena to be involved in such a dangerous scheme, but she was beautiful and if she flirted just a bit, he had no doubt the guards would succumb to her offerings of wine. “Ye can feign being a serving wench.”

  Her eyes suddenly lit up. “Aye! I’ll say I’ve a liking for one of them! They’ll nae be the wiser. There are so many servants here, I doubt they ken them all.”

  “My men and I will be waiting nearby,” he said, “and if anything should go wrong, we will come to yer aid. Dunnae fear.”

  “I dunnae, Alex. I ken ye will nae let harm come to me, nor I to ye.”

  “Come,” he said, rising and taking her hand. “Let us go tell Donald of the plan, and he can help ye inform the other men whilst I pay a visit to Euphemia.”

  Lena scowled. “How will ye convince her to give ye the potion?”

  “Euphemia dunnae trust anyone. If I ken her, she’ll have the potion in her bedchamber. I’ll have to distract her, and then I’ll take it.”

  Lena gave him a dark look. “I dunnae like it, but I ken it’s necessary. As long as yer distractions dunnae involve yer body touching her—”

  He pressed a finger to Lena’s lips. He did not want to give her all the explicit details of the things he and Euphemia used to do to each other in the bedchamber, and he prayed Lena would nae ask. “I’ll have to touch her wrists, but that should be all.”

  Lena’s eyes narrowed, and her lips pressed together in a tight line. She stared at him for a long, tense moment. “I can accept that. But only that. Ye are mine.” She pressed a passionate kiss to his lips, making him wish they had more time to love each other this night.

  “Aye, Wife. I am yers.”

  “Ye kinnae leave me like this!” Euphemia bellowed while tugging at her wrists, which were tied to the bedposts. “Alex!” she cried out when he did not answer.

  Scowling, he picked up the gown she had removed, ripped off a long piece of material, and grasping it tightly, strode to the bed and moved closer to her.

  She craned her neck back to look at him, eyes blazing. “Alex! She kinnae give ye what ye need!”

  “She gives me exactly what I need,” he said quietly while securing the material around Euphemia’s mouth, cutting off her protest but not her growls.

  He stood and stared down at her. It had not taken much convincing to make Euphemia believe that Lena disgusted him and that he still wanted Euphemia with the same dark, ravenous hunger he had long ago. She’d hurriedly undressed and insisted he bind her as he used to. Once she had been tied up, he’d searched her room for the potion, all while she had squirmed on the bed. He knew she had thought he was gathering things to bring her pleasure laced with pain, and she had called to him to come to her.

  The potion had been tucked away with her combs; it was the only bottle there. He felt certain it was the right potion, and as it was the only one, there was nothing to be done but try it. Once he had it, he’d kneeled by the bed where she could easily turn her head to see him, tied as she was with her stomach on the mattress.

  “I love my wife,” he said. “Ye and I have long been finished. Put me out of yer head, as I have done ye.”

  Gripping the potion, Alex quickly slipped out of the room and shut the door firmly on Euphemia and his past.

  “Did ye touch more than her wrists?” Lena demanded of him in a hushed tone while his men, who were gathered around her in a protective circle, gaped at him.

  Alex chuckled at the emboldened lass his wife had become as he handed her the potion. Even outside in the darkness, there was enough moonlight that he could see her narrowed eyes flashing her ire.

  “Nay, Wife,” he whispered, aware of the two sentries not far away, standing guard at the entrance to the narrow stone passage that led to the dungeon. “Only her wrists as I vowed to ye.” As Lena took the potion from him, he caught her fingers. “I’ll be here. Dunnae fear.”

  “I dunnae, Alex. I ken ye and yer men are only a call away.” Quickly, she poured the potion into the wine skin that Munroe had handed her. When she was done, she turned to Donald. “Do as we discussed.”

  As Donald nodded with a sigh, Alex said, “What did ye—” Suddenly, Donald gripped him by the right arm and Munroe grabbed his left. “What the devil? Release me,” Alex hissed under his breath.

  Lena set her hand to his chest. “Shh. Ye kinnae make a fuss,” she whispered. “I have instructed the men to hold ye because I fear ye will nae stay out of sight if a kiss is stolen or a caress given while I’m convincing them to drink the wine.”

  Jealous rage coursed through him as he attempted to surge forward, but his men held him back. “Lena,” he said darkly, his blood pounding in his head. “Dunnae do this.”

  She sighed. “Trust in me,” she said, her voice steely. “Trust in me now, as I did in ye earlier when ye went to Euphemia.”

  “I do trust in ye,” he said, his anger and worry making his jaw tick. “But ye dunnae have to endure those men pawing at ye. We will find another way if they will nae drink the potion.”

  The silence was taut around him. “Alex,” Lena said, her tone soothing, “I am strong. I can endure this.” With that, she turned from him, and he watched with a pounding heart as she made her way to the guards in the distance. From where he and his men were hidden, he could see Lena’s profile in the moonlight and could hear murmurings of them talking and her husky laughter. His gut twisted into kn
ots as her head tilted back and she chuckled. One of the guards stepped toward her and yanked her to him.

  Alex’s anger became a scalding fury as his muscles jumped, yearning to go to his wife. “Release me,” he demanded, his tone lethal.

  “Give her a moment,” Donald beseeched him.

  When the guard who had pulled her to him kissed her, rage made Alex clench his jaw on bellowing. “Release me now, or I will banish ye from the clan.”

  Instantly, his arms were released, and as he drew his sword, Donald said, “If ye must intervene, wait until he’s released her. He could hurt her if he tries to use her as a shield.”

  Alex jerked his head in a nod, fingers curled tightly around the hilt of his sword. To his astonishment, Lena stepped away from the guard and raised the wine skin to his lips. The guard tilted it up and drank for a long moment before passing the skin to the other man, who did the same and then tossed it to the ground.

  Voices once again filled the night, along with the hard beat of Alex’s heart in his ears as he watched his wife bravely and quite expertly flirt with the guards. Pride and awe swelled within him. “She is fierce,” he murmured.

  “Aye,” came a chorus of hushed agreements around him.

  Within moments, the guards began to sway, and when one crumpled to his knees and fell over, the other gave a cry of alarm that was cut off when Lena pressed a hand to his mouth. When he raised his arm to strike her, Alex surged forward to go to her, but he need not have. Lena shoved the man away, and he careened backward, tripping and falling on his bottom. By the time Alex got to Lena’s side, the man sat heaving on the ground, staring up at them both in astonishment.

  “What is happen—” He slumped to his side in utter silence.

  Alex and Lena looked at each other and smiled. “Ye amaze me, Wife,” Alex said simply.

  Lena grinned. “Let us rescue my brother and his men, and ride to gain the support of the lairds,” she said in answer.

  They moved past the guards and rushed down the narrow, winding passage to the dungeon door. Alex threw it open, and as they entered the room, Lachlan, who was tied with his arms above him to a hook in the ceiling, jerked his head up and gaped at his sister. He turned a furious gaze upon Alex. “Why do ye allow my sister to be here? Ye risk her life!”

  Lena strode up to her brother as Alex and his men, who had come up behind him, watched. She lifted up her skirts and surprised Alex by producing a dagger, which she deftly used to cut her brother down from his holds. Lachlan towered over her, but Lena tilted her head back and looked up at her brother. “Ye’re welcome,” she said, the smirk Alex could not see evident in her tone. “And just so ye ken, I am strong, and I will fight by my husband’s side always, nae cower hidden away in some castle.”

  When Lachlan looked toward Alex, Alex nodded. “Yer sister is much like yer wife now.”

  “God help us both,” Lachlan muttered with a laugh.

  “God already helped ye,” Lena countered. “God blessed ye both with strong women. Now let us rescue the rest of the MacLeods.”

  It required both land and a new title to convince Laird Grant to break with the Steward and rejoin the king. It also entailed a promise from Alex and Lachlan that they would ensure the king would nae take back the land once more, and if he did, they would offer land of their own to replace what the king took. The negotiations were not complete until dawn, so as the sun rose, Lena found herself riding hard by her husband’s and her brother’s sides toward the castle of the Fraser hold, which rose in the distance.

  As they neared a narrow bridge that was the only passage to the castle, Alex halted them abruptly. Lena did not need to ask why. In the middle of the bridge stood a lone man, his feet spread apart and a sword in hand.

  Lena’s chest filled with fear as she recognized Thomas. “What is he doing here? Do ye think he came to warn his father of our arrival?”

  Alex shook his head. “I think he found the guards and Lachlan gone, and deducing what I might be doing, came here for me.”

  Lena frowned. “For ye? But why?”

  “Retribution. He blames me,” Alex replied as he dismounted.

  “What are ye doing?” she demanded as she scrambled off the horse after her husband.

  “I must face him, Lena.”

  “Alex, nay! He could kill ye!”

  He shook his head. “Nay. Trust in me, as I trusted in ye,” he replied, withdrawing his sword. He looked past her to his men and said, “It dunnae matter what occurs, ye kinnae interfere.”

  Lena gasped. She grabbed his arm as he started away. “Alex!” When he turned to her, she kissed him hard. His free hand slipped to her neck. “I love ye, Alex.”

  “And I love ye, lass. Dunnae fash yerself. All will be well.”

  Tears blurred her vision as she watched her husband stride away and meet Thomas in the middle of the bridge. They spoke for a moment, and then both men raised their swords and, in a blur, a battle began. Each strike of steel against steel made Lena jerk and shot fear through her. Alex struck a blow to Thomas’s back, but Thomas countered with one to Alex’s injured arm.

  Grunts of effort, clashing metal, and Lena’s ragged breathing filled the silence. Her brother, his men, and all Alex’s men had dismounted, and they stood around her. Her fists were curled tight in fear for Alex’s life, and her nails cut into her skin. The men battled dangerously close to the edge, and when Alex fell backward, half on the bridge but with his back and arms dangling over it, Lena screamed and started toward him, only to have her brother grip her arm.

  “Nay, Lena,” Lachlan said.

  “Release me!” she wailed. “Thomas will kill him!”

  “Nay,” Donald said. “See there!”

  Alex drove his fist upward into Thomas’s mouth, eliciting a howl of rage from the man. In a blur, Alex rolled to his side to come up over Thomas, who he knocked backward. Thomas was now the one on his back dangling off the bridge. He brought his sword up to strike at Alex’s head, but Alex blocked him and the sword slipped from Thomas’s hand, falling through the air into the water below.

  Alex panted as he stared at Thomas, both of them heaving with effort. Sweat dripped from Alex’s forehead, and his injured arm burned from holding Thomas down.

  “Kill me!” Thomas demanded, spitting blood.

  Alex had thought he wanted to after what Thomas had attempted to do to Lena, but he saw such familiar pain in Thomas’s face that all the rage left him.

  “Thomas,” Alex said, his voice ragged. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I did nae return in time to save ye. I’m sorry I failed to defend ye.”

  “I kinnae live like this any longer,” Thomas said, misery lacing his words. “Please end my pain. I’ve done things—” he shuddered “—horrid, awful things. I’m nae the boy ye once called yer friend.”

  Alex gripped Thomas’s forearm. “Neither am I, Thomas. Gillis killed those boys. Ye can change. Ye can be happy.”

  “I dunnae see how,” Thomas groaned.

  Alex nodded. “I did nae see how, either, until Lena came into my life.”

  Thomas turned his head toward where Lena stood in the distance. “And what did she do for ye?”

  “She gave me her love, her trust. She showed me how to forgive myself and face my past.”

  “I dunnae have a woman like Lena,” Thomas said.

  “Nae yet,” Alex said. “But perchance someday, if ye will change. Come with me to compel yer father to join with the king again. Ye ken it is right.”

  Thomas stared at Alex for a long, silent moment, then finally nodded. “I’ll try. I want to try.”

  Alex helped Thomas up and waved at his men to come forward. Lena raced across the bridge ahead of the men and stopped by his side, panting and looking warily at Thomas.

  “I’m sorry, Lena,” Thomas said. “For everything. I dunnae expect ye to trust in me or forgive me.”

  Alex took her hand in his, soaking up the joy that blanketed him to have her by his side. She inclined h
er head to Thomas. “Trust can be built with time and hard work. I shall remain open to offering it to ye in the future.”

  “Alex is lucky to have ye,” Thomas said.

  Alex shook his head, even as his wife did. “We are lucky.”

  “To have found each other,” Lena added, completing his sentence and, in truth, completing him.

  Epilogue

  Lena smiled, feeling utterly spent and safe in her husband’s arms and bed. She looked up at him and found his gaze on her. He had a contemplative expression on his face as his fingers trailed a light circle over her belly. “A bairn? Ye’re certain?”

  She nodded, a warm glow filling her. She covered his hand with hers, understanding his shock. She’d had a sennight for her own disbelief to fade. They had been back at Duart Castle for several sennights, having traveled here after securing Laird Fraser’s pledge to the king and then visiting Dunvegan. There, Alex had spent many long nights in talks with her brothers and the king, and she knew they had a plan to thwart the Campbell and the Steward, which pleased her. Alex had promised he would share all the details with her when they were determined, and she was happy to wait. Her mind was fully occupied with her bairn. The journey had been hard, so when she had been tired and feeling ill, she had thought it was because of the grueling trip, but once they were home and settled back at Duart, she had realized it was not the trip but a child on the way.

  “Are ye happy?” she asked.

  “My God, yes. I’m almost choked with it,” he said, brushing a kiss to her lips. She snuggled into his side as his arm tightened around her, and he pulled her closer to him so that the length of their legs pressed against each other. “Ye ken this means ye kinnae journey with me to meet up with Broch. I must depart now that Duart has been fortified for a possible attack from the Steward.”

  Lena shifted and moved to sit on her husband’s thighs. As she looked down at him, his hands came to rest on her legs for a breath, before he brushed his fingers across her breasts and then settled both hands on her waist. She scowled playfully at him, seeing the love and concern in his dark gaze. “I dunnae ken any such thing. I am going to accompany ye to see Broch, and then I will journey with both of ye to find Marsaili.” Just thinking of her sister, who had somehow managed to escape the Campbell guards but who had not been seen since, lodged a knot of worry in Lena’s throat. “We are stronger together,” she reminded him.

 

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