She nodded.
“Will Colin be facing the door, ye believe?”
“Nay. All Jamie’s horrid devices line the far wall, so Colin likely will be turned away from the door. He has commented in the great hall to Jamie how much he likes to use Jamie’s iron chair.”
“God’s bones!” Lachlan shuddered to think of Graham strapped to a spiked chair that Colin would be slowly driving into Graham’s flesh. With that thought, Lachlan threw open the door and charged into the room with his sword raised.
Shock froze him the moment his mind fully grasped the scene. Graham was not in the iron chair. There was a boy who looked to be no more than nine summers slumped in it. Blood trickled over his shoulders and down his legs. His head was drooped forward.
Lena’s enraged scream filled the space. “Ross!” she screeched and tried to race past Lachlan. He grabbed her around the waist and shoved her back as Colin swung around to face them. Graham was strapped to a post that faced the iron chair. Lachlan understood at once that Graham’s bellows had been for the pain the boy was enduring, not his own.
“I kinnae say I’m pleased to see ye,” Colin said, withdrawing his sword.
Lachlan’s response was a roar as he charged toward the man and barreled full speed into him. They went flying backward and hit as one against the unforgiving iron of the torture chair and then the cold floor. Colin moved to lift his sword, but Lachlan was upon him, knocking the blade away and then repeatedly pounding his fist into Colin’s face without mercy. Revenge for what had been done to his brother, his sister, and Bridgette drove him to near madness. Grief for what had been lost in Bridgette fueled his anger. And guilt for failing to protect her blinded him to any pain his relentless beating of Colin caused himself.
When Lachlan was too tired to hit Colin any more, he struggled to his feet, stunned to find the boy removed from the chair and now being held in Graham’s arms. Graham and Lena stared at Lachlan, and Lachlan glanced down at his bloody fists and then at the near-lifeless Colin. He bent down, secured Colin under the arms, and dragged him to the iron chair where he shoved him into the seat and then set about doing to Colin what he’d done to the boy…and God alone knew how many others.
Before Colin took his last breath, Lachlan leaned close to the man and whispered in his ear, “For Bridgette.” Then he removed one of his daggers and plunged it into the man’s black heart.
They rode toward Duart Castle without stopping through the remainder of the night and until late afternoon the next day. Along the way, Lena told them of happy years raised by a priest in England and seeing Jamie no more than a dozen times in those years. She shared her memories of Atholl saving her from the loch, and then of Jamie telling her the castle had been attacked and overtaken and that all her family was dead but the two of them. She finished by telling of how Jamie had come to get her and told her she was to be married, and when she protested, he had told her he would kill her if she did not do exactly as he said.
Lachlan was overjoyed at their reunion with Lena, but he also felt a deep anger and a need for vengeance against the Campbells and his uncle. He could tell by Graham’s twisted face that his need for vengeance was as great as Lachlan’s. And when Graham spoke, his words obliterated any doubt that Lachlan may have had.
Graham’s gaze met Lachlan’s. “I will destroy the Campbells.” He turned to Lena. “I am so verra sorry for failing ye.”
Lena waved a dismissive hand at him, but he turned his face away.
Lachlan was worried that Graham would retaliate without thinking, and he was worried for Lena’s future, given what she had likely endured at the hands of Jamie and the Campbells, but at the moment, his biggest concern was Bridgette. The need to see her, to tell her she was free from Colin, and to begin the process of helping her heal drove Lachlan, and he, in turn, drove his horse—and the one they had taken from one of Jamie’s unsuspecting men—relentlessly. He rode with the boy, Ross, secured in front of him, and Graham rode with Lena.
He inhaled a long, shuddering breath. He did not know what awaited him with Bridgette. He was not sure how to help her heal or if she would ever be exactly as she had been, but he didn’t care. As long as they were together, things would right themselves. They had to. He could not imagine never touching her again, holding her, cradling her in the protection of his arms.
His need to be with Bridgette overwhelmed him, and when Duart came into view, he broke his horse away from the others and raced the destrier to the courtyard. The castle bustled with activity. Men hurried to and fro with weapons, and women scurried around with worried looks upon their faces. Lachlan dismounted and handed his destrier off to a servant to be fed, watered, and cooled down. Then he turned to make his way inside and seek out Bridgette.
Alex stood with his arms crossed over his chest in the doorway of the castle. He regarded Lachlan for a long moment without speaking and then moved his attention to Graham, who had only just ridden up. Alex gave a nod. “’Tis good to see ye alive, Graham.” He smiled and looked to Lachlan. “Both of ye. I only arrived this morning to rally my men. We’re away to help yer brother defend Dunvegan. Yer uncle—”
“I ken,” Lachlan interrupted, his need to see Bridgette consuming him. He motioned behind him to where Lena stood with her arms protectively around Ross. “Lena told us.”
Alex’s brows dipped together. “Lena? Who is this—”
“Our sister,” Lachlan interrupted again, desperate now to see Bridgette. “Graham will explain all shortly.”
“Lena!” Alex exclaimed, brushed past Lachlan, and embraced her.
“Who are ye, then?” Lena demanded, struggling to free herself. At the same time, Ross, who was wedged between them, bowed his chest at Alex.
“Ye dunnae remember me?” Alex asked.
Lena scrunched her nose. “Nay. Should I?”
Alex grinned. “When ye were but a wee lass of six summers ye told me ye were going to marry me.”
Color climbed swiftly up Lena’s face. “Alex MacLean?”
“Aye!”
“Alex!” Lachlan fairly roared, causing Alex, Lena, the boy, and Graham to gape at him. “Where is Bridgette?” Alex’s face closed off, as if guarding a secret, and unease rippled through Lachlan. “Where is she?” he demanded again.
“Let us talk in private a moment,” Alex replied, making Lachlan’s unease grow.
Lachlan nodded and moved away with Alex. Once they had distance between them and the others, he spoke. “I wish to see Bridgette.”
“Aye, I ken ye must, but Bridgette is nae here.”
“Nae here?” The unease turned to frigid fear.
Alex paused, rubbed a hand across his jaw, and sighed. “She left me a note telling me she may be carrying Colin’s bairn and that she was forced to become his wife.”
Anger rose in Lachlan, and he curled his hands into fists. “Colin is dead. I killed him. She is nae his wife any longer.”
Alex stared at him with hooded eyes for a long spell before he spoke again. “Still… Bridgette may be carrying his bairn, and she kens that would be hard for ye to accept.”
“I dunnae care that she may carry Colin’s bairn,” Lachlan growled. “I want her nay matter what.”
The hint of a smile twitched at Alex’s lips. “I hoped ye may say something like this, but I fear there is more to overcome than a possible bairn.”
“Aye,” Lachlan agreed. “She’s been hurt, but I will help heal her.”
Alex’s eyebrows shot upward. “She’s verra stubborn.”
“I’m more so.”
“She entreated me nae to tell ye where she went. She dunnae wish to be with ye.”
Lachlan gritted his teeth, and his nostrils flared. “Do ye believe that?”
“I dunnae, which is why I will tell ye. She’ll likely hate me for it, but she’ll likely hate me later when she kens how foolish she is being to keep ye away.” He shrugged. “I have kept my vow all these years to let her choose her husband and she chose ye
afore. I dunnae believe her heart has changed, only that fear is now in it. So, as I see it, she should nae be turning ye away. But vow to me ye will be patient.”
“I swear it. Now where is she?”
“She’s fled to Culdrich Castle, which is on ‘the island of foreigners.’ She had five of my men with her.”
His heart ached with the knowledge that she had fled from him. She was so sore in spirit that she did not see any hope. Which meant he had to show her hope and fill her with it. “How long before yer men are amassed and away to Dunvegan?”
Alex shook his head. “Another sennight, but dunnae tarry for the battle. The MacDonalds pledged their swords to David and are gathering to help defend Dunvegan, even as we speak. Ye’re a fierce warrior, but Bridgette needs ye more than yer brother at this moment. He has three clans of fighting men at his side, as well as the king and his men.”
“Would ye see to my sister’s safe return to Dunvegan with Graham?”
“I’d be honored,” Alex replied.
Lachlan felt better about leaving. He nodded. “Then I’ll make haste to Bridgette,” Lachlan said, his mind turning with what he needed to do to prepare for the journey.
“Godspeed and luck to ye, Lachlan.”
Lachlan nodded, knowing he needed both.
Twenty-Five
Bridgette stared out at the loch that backed up to Culdrich Castle and breathed in the fresh air. She’d come here seeking peace, yet after two days here and almost a fortnight since she’d left Duart and journeyed here, she feared peace would never be hers again. Horrible dreams of Colin plagued her nights, and memories of what could have been with Lachlan haunted her days. The one thing that would not be was a bairn. She’d gotten her flow last night, and she’d never been so happy for her time.
She’d gone to bed with the hope that she would wake up feeling more like herself, but she had woken still a stranger in her own body. Once filled with passion and love, she was now simply numb, except for when she thought of Lachlan and was overcome with sadness.
She could not live like this. She refused to live like this. Something had to change.
The wind blew her hair across her face, and she wrapped her plaid tighter around her to ward off the chill. Behind her, she heard the men preparing to go on a hunt, and then a throat cleared. She turned to find Dermid standing there.
“Ye are sure ye dunnae wish to go, lass?” he asked politely, as he had done yesterday, as well.
“Nay.” She had no desire to hunt and prove herself equal to the men any longer. Colin had taught her she’d never be as strong. She shivered with fear and saw pity flash in Dermid’s eyes. None of the men knew what had occurred, but she wondered if they suspected.
“I’ll stay behind with ye,” Dermid said.
She took a breath to tell him not to, but then she exhaled it. Before Colin, she would have scoffed at a man thinking she needed to be protected, but now, she realized with a start, she feared being alone, and it so enraged her that she wanted to fight back at the fear.
The men called out to Dermid, and he waved them on, then he turned, she suspected to go train.
“Dermid,” she called to his back, filled with a sudden purpose. She would never be as strong as a man, yet she refused to be so cowardly that she’d not even try to defend herself. “I wish ye to teach me how to wield a sword.”
He gaped at her. “Ye’re nae but a woman.”
She gritted her teeth. Lachlan would have never responded like that to her. The thought brought another of Lachlan: how had he felt when he had returned to Duart and she had been gone?
She was pondering this when Dermid’s eyes widened, and behind her, she heard footsteps. Her heart raced, but she forced herself to turn. Lachlan stood before her. She squeezed her eyes shut, sure that she must be seeing things, but when she opened them he was still there—russet bearded, bare chested, and hands locked upon his sword. He was a formidable sight, and her heart stuttered, skipped several beats, and then galloped ahead.
Soft lines crinkled around his beautiful eyes as he stared at her. He swallowed audibly, as if he was struggling to contain something within him, and she knew at once he worked to contain the desire to touch her. Her body heated, then recoiled in the same instant, and he saw it all on her face. She saw that he did by the fading smile, which turned to a fierce frown, followed by his jaw setting in determination.
He looked past her to Dermid. “She is a woman, aye, but she is a strong one. Dunnae ever insult her by thinking she could nae set ye low.”
Bridgette’s heart swelled with love. Whatever else was gone from her, she still loved him passionately.
“I did nae m-mean—” Dermid stammered.
Lachlan held up a silencing hand. “Away with ye. I have the care of Bridgette now.” He said the words with the certainty of a man who would brook no challenge. Dermid, the coward, immediately fled—Lachlan plucking Dermid’s sword from his hands as the man went—and left Bridgette face-to-face with Lachlan, whom she loved with all her heart but could not give herself to as she once had.
“What are ye doing here?” she asked, trying for a cold tone but unable to stop her voice from cracking.
Lachlan pointed each of the swords he held down into the ground and leaned slightly into them. His eyes had a sheen of purpose as he stared at her. “Ye ken why I’m here.”
She backed up a step as if that would help at all. He could overcome her easily and quickly if he wanted to, but she knew he’d never do such a thing. “I’m nae changed, Lachlan.”
The fact that her words were not entirely true struck her. She was not with a bairn. But telling him would be foolish; it would only give him more desire to stay. She feared him staying, yet she heard herself say the words. “I’m nae with a bairn.”
His chest heaved as he took a large breath, and then his lips pressed into a thin line. He stood quiet for a moment, eyes raking over her from head to toe, then back up again. “I kinnae lie and say I’m nae glad, but I swear by God that if ye had been, I would have wanted ye still and treated the bairn as my own.”
She bit the inside of her cheek trying to force back tears that were very near the surface. “I ken that, Lachlan. ’Twas why I left. I could nae ask such a thing of ye. I’m glad to see ye well. I—”
“Colin is dead,” he announced, interrupting her. His eyes filled with hopeful expectation as he looked at her. “I killed him. Ye are free.”
“I dunnae believe I will ever be free of him,” she said in honesty, wishing Lachlan to understand.
“Ye will,” he said with the will of one who would not be denied.
“What of Lena and Graham?” she asked, not wishing to argue with Lachlan about herself.
“Both rescued. Lena is in the care of yer brother and Graham, and they will see her to Dunvegan with Marion. Graham is verra well. He suffered some injuries but nae anything he kinnae recover from easily. And he has released his anger toward us… But even if he had nae, I tell ye honestly, I would have married ye once I got ye back anyway.”
His words filled her with happiness, yet it was dulled by the truth that while Graham no longer prevented her and Lachlan from being together, she did. She wrapped her arms around her waist and noticed anger cloud his eyes.
Before she could ask, he spoke. “I dunnae like when ye do that. Ye look like a wounded animal.”
She inhaled sharply at the apt description of how she felt. He understood so completely. He always had, which was why she had fallen in love with him. “I feel like a wounded animal.”
“Aye, I ken ye do, m’eudail. And I am here to help ye heal.”
She’d asked him not to call her that, yet a great sense of relief flowed through her to hear the endearment from his lips. The smallest, likely very foolish feeling of hope niggled in her gut. “What if I kinnae be healed?”
“Then we will mend ye as best we can, and we will go on with our lives together.”
“And if I will nae ever be able to allow
ye to touch me again?” she demanded, challenging him, forcing him to face the possibility.
Savage determination shone from his eyes. “Ye will,” he said simply. “In time, ye will. Ye must trust in me.”
She did not think she could, but she did not have the heart to turn him away once more. She loved him too much. “But if the time comes that we both ken I’ll nae be able to change, I want ye to pledge to me that ye’ll leave and forget me.”
“I’ll nae vow such a thing,” he said quietly and handed her Dermid’s sword.
“What is this for?” she asked, even as she took it.
“I will teach ye to fight as ye asked Dermid to teach ye. When I’m done with ye, there will be few men who can best ye, in spite of their greater strength.”
She didn’t truly believe him, yet fierce desire to learn to fight with a sword and to take back some sense of being able to protect herself rose in her, and she nodded. She stepped back and raised her sword as she’d seen her brother do a thousand times, and it made her think of Alex.
“Alex told ye where I was,” she said, anger stirring slightly within her.
“Aye. Because he kens I kinnae live without ye.”
Her breath caught in her throat, and her anger left her with a single exhalation. She could not cling to her ire after what he had just told her. “Teach me,” she said, rather than acknowledge what he’d just told her. She was not sure she could live without him, either, but she was not sure she could live with him yet.
By the end of Lachlan’s first sennight at Culdrich, Bridgette did not flinch every time he drew near, though the thought of him touching her was still intolerable. He held himself under rigid control, which she knew by his tense jaw and the longing she saw in his eyes when she would catch him in an unguarded moment. Yet her own desire did not stir, which made her fear it never would.
By the end of the third week, she had grown accustomed to Lachlan sitting so near her at supper that she could feel his heat and smell his essence, but he never sat so close that he brushed against her. He was always awake and waiting for her in the morning, and he was always the last person she saw at night before she retired. He would stand silently at the bottom of the stairs and watch her go to her bedchamber.
Wicked Highland Wishes (Highlander Vows: Entangled Hearts Book 2) Page 28