by Allie Borne
She scoffed. “Do not come to me now with sweet words, hoping to disarm me. If that were true you never would have listened to that cousin of thine and his poisonous words.”
Redland stood straighter and looked at his wife, losing patience. “Give over, Merianne, ye ken ye need me as much as I need thee. Come, let me hold you.”
Merianne’s green eyes narrowed. “I am not some doxy you can come to to ease your need, Lord Redland. I am certain that some milk maid would be happy to entertain you.” Merianne was instantly sorry that she had baited the bear.
Redland fairly growled as he crossed the distance between them and grabbed her by the arms. “Ye will stop speaking to me in such a disrespectful manner! Tis unladylike!” Bryan barely restrained himself from shaking her. How could she remain so aloof when he was burning and aching to touch her?
“Respect is an emotion that requires reciprocation, My Lord,” Merianne responded irreverently.
“Earn it!” he ordered.
“You first,” she fairly spat. Merianne’s eyes blazed like a jungle cat’s, she was so angry. She wanted to punch him in the nose. Instead, she did the one thing she knew he would not be able to stand, she broke from his grasp and turned her back towards him, staring out the window once more.
“I was speaking to ye,” Bryan’s voice came out in a deadly calm.
Merianne did not respond. She simply stood at the window, looking out, taking deep breaths and reigning in her ire.
“When will this end?” Bryan tried again.
“I wish to go home,” was Merianne’s only response. “You should have sent me and not the other Meri.”
Bryan was so full of pent up energy, he nearly seized her and bent her over his knee. That would do nothing to convince her of his sincerity, however. Instead, he grabbed her about the waist and threw her over his shoulder.
“Let me down!” she screeched, pummeling him with her fists along his broad back.
Bryan stood, facing the door and paused. “Ye can come quietly or no’ at all. I would think that ye would want to be free of this room.”
Merianne stilled. She did wish for a change of scenery. “Let me walk then,” Meri coaxed.
“Nay,” Bryan refused, turning the door knob and stepping out into the hall. Down the stairs he carried her. Meri’s face flushed at the idea of being seen like this. She was grateful to note that the hall was devoid of servants at this early hour. Redland marched from the keep’s front door and out toward the stables.
Bryan threw Merianne unceremoniously onto a hay stack and pulled two saddles from their mounts. Meri wondered at his strength as he carried them down the aisle towards their horses. Five minutes later, Redland led his stud towards her.
“At least you have Silkey back,” Meri smiled despite herself and rushed to look the horse over for any injuries. Reassured that he was in fine condition, she nuzzled him and Silkey was happy to return the affection.
As Bryan turned to fetch the second horse, his heart raced. This was the woman he wanted. Because he loved her, he was unsure of his judgement. Was it not possible that she was fooling him? Many a better man then he had been bested by a woman’s charms. He had one last test. Grabbing the magnificent thoroughbred from the stable and leading it up the aisle, Bryan kept his face forward to gauge Merianne’s reaction.
“Cinnamon!” Meri crowed, rushing to her horse’s side. “Oh, Cinnamon, I thought twas certain you had died! Hugging her horse around the neck, Merianne’s eyes overflowed with tears. She rubbed her horse’s flank and looked her over as she had Silkey. Cinnamon tossed her head in impatient excitement. She sensed a ride and was eager to begin.
Merianne looked at Bryan, eyes glistening. “How did you find her?”
“She was with Silkey. My men found her grazing with him in the pasture outside the keep.”
“Why did you not tell me sooner?”
“It took a while to get them back to the stable. It seems the two were honeymooning.”
Merianne blushed at the thought. “Will they give us any trouble on a ride, then?”
“Nay, they seem satisfied with their week’s activities. They should be well behaved enough.”
Merianne crooned to Cinnamon, “Are you going to be a mommy, Love?”
Bryan grinned. He hoped that it was not just Cinnamon that would be breeding. The thought caught him off guard. What if, as little as he expected it, his Meri were not Merianne Warren? So what? he thought. He would be furious with her for lying to him. He would be hurt by her betrayal, but he would still love her. He would still want her to be his wife.
The thought terrified Bryan, but set him on his course. Everything he knew about Merianne told him that she was, deep down, a very honest person. Even when posing as Mary, she had never out and out lied about who she was. He knew who she was. She was his wild-haired fairy and he would not be letting her go.
They mounted and rode from the gates. Although Jared quirked his brow, he did not question the Laird’s actions. The Laird could risk his life if he so chose.
Together, they rode up the fields of barley that Merianne had spent so much time admiring. She would have liked to walk here, but the feel of Cinnamon beneath her and the wind’s soft caresses kept her mounted. She did not ask where they were going, she did not care.
Right now, the journey was enjoyable enough. At the other end of the grain fields, Bryan turned up a narrow path towards a craggy hill. Up, to the peak of the hill they rode. Bryan dismounted and tied his horse, then lifted Merianne from hers. He waited while she tethered Cinnamon and then grasped her hand.
Merianne’s palm tingled at the touch. Just a few days before the gesture would have felt natural. Now, her hand against his felt forced...reassuring, but stilted. Bryan pulled her to the peak.
There, the sun having come fully above the horizon, boasted of the glory of the land. Craggy rocks lazed about the flat land. Peat and moss grew abundantly. The greens and blues and browns melted together. It was achingly beautiful. “This is yer home, Merianne,” Bryan offered. “Ye said ye wanted to go home. Thou art home. Promise me that ye will try to come to see that.”
Merianne continued to look ahead of her. A tiny deer loped across the scene, disappearing in the trees to her left. She sighed and turned to Bryan. “When I look at this land, when I am out upon it, I feel a connection; I feel as if I belong. Tis not here that I am unsure of my home, Bryan. Tis back at the keep, surrounded by people that accept me one moment and turn on me the next.
“I wish to be home, at my old home, where I belong no matter what I say and do. I am a part of that family. Here, I am an outsider. You look at me with suspicion and distrust. The others, they acknowledge me conditionally. Tis not where I am but with whom that makes a place a home, Bryan.”
“Here, ye are with yer husband,” Bryan offered.
“You yourself negated our vows, My Lord,” Merianne chided softly.
“I was angry. I did no’ mean what I said.”
“If you did not mean it, you would have never thought the words to speak them, Bryan. Those words, once spoken, cannot be undone. I feel severed from you. I feel undone.”
Bryan grasped her hand tighter. “What God has united let no mon put asunder,” Bryan quoted to her. “No’ my words, nor any others could undo our union, Merianne,” Redland reminded her.
“And if I am not who I say I am?”
“I was wrong no’ to trust ye. I believe ye when ye say ye are Merianne Warren. If ye are no’, it does no’ change the fact that I love ye, that I laid with ye, that I married ye. We are united, for better or worse.”
“You would accept me, even if I had plotted against thee?”
“My love for ye is unconditional, Merianne. That does no’ mean that I would no’ lose my trust for ye, that I would not feel betrayed and angry.”
Merianne thought about that. “I understand. As much as you shamed me and angered me with your treatment of my person, I still love you. I still want to be with
you.”
Bryan gathered her in his arms, holding her as close as he dared without crushing her. He buried his face in her hair. Tilting her chin up him, he leaned in for a kiss. Merianne opened herself to Bryan. Their tongues tangled in exuberant greeting. Grasping the back of Merianne’s head, Bryan deepened the kiss, demanding.
Meri tried to push away, to slow the pace but his desperation pulled her closer. Bryan swung her up in his arms and carried her back into the tree line on the hill. Just below a giant boulder, a thick bed of peat moss beckoned. Bryan lay her gently on the moss and knelt before her. His need for her drove him beyond rational thought, beyond words. Bryan covered his wife with his form, kissing and caressing her in urgent, demanding movements. Redland ran his hand up Meri’s skirts, pulling down her bloomers, he pushed aside his tunic and entered her fiercely.
She called out with the mingling of pain, shock, and joy. Quickly, she adjusted to him, welcomed him into her core. He thrust needily. Hiding his face in her neck, Bryan spent himself quickly. As reality seeped in around the edges, he felt ashamed. He had overpowered her, rather than romanced her.
Gingerly, he sat up. Leaning against the boulder, Bryan gathered Merianne in his arms. “Forgive me,” he muttered.
After a few moments of searching his face, Merianne answered. “I forgive you for humiliating me and locking me in my room, Bryan. As for needing me, loving me, there is nothing to forgive. To you it seems a weakness, to me, tis a strength.”
Bryan smiled at his wife wickedly. “Ye really are fairy-born I think. I have risked my soul to be with ye, have I no’?”
“Nay more than I have risked mine, Husband. We are equal in that regard.”
“And I am superior, in that I have risked all and come out with the upper hand,” rang a clear tenor from behind them.
Looking up at the boulder, the couple saw the tip of Sir Robert’s sword pointed at them. Bryan pushed Meri off of his lap and sprang up to stand before her. In the blink of an eye, Sir Robert had jumped from his perch and stood facing his adversary.
“Ye make this easy for me, Bryan,” Sir Robert added, disdainfully. “Now, I need only decide whether to slay yer wife as well, or to keep her for my own.”
“I would never marry you,” Merianne spat on the ground in disgust.
“Verra well, then, it will make for a better story if Sir Phillip’s men were to murder ye both.”
“Thou art mad, Robert,” Bryan countered, hoping to distract him. “My brother will take over. He already suspects ye. Ye will lose everything.”
“Thou art wrong; I have everything to gain. I can kill you and leave you to be discovered. I will ride to meet up with my “bride” and slay the other three interferers.”
“Thou wilt never best them all,” Meri scoffed, hoping to draw Roberts attention from her husband. Bryan edged closer to his discarded sword belt. “Sir Andrew is an expert swordsman and Arthur is the strongest man in the clan. He will wrestle thee to the ground and stick a dagger in your gullet. You will die afore you know you have been bested. A fitting way to go, really, bested by better men.”
Roaring in rage, Robert lunged toward Meri. In one fluid motion, Redland scooped up his sword and lunged, planting the shaft deep in Robert’s belly. All was motionless for several moments. Blood gurgled up from Sir Robert’s mouth as he opened it in surprise.
Bryan withdrew his sword and stood between Robert and Meri, waiting. Hobbling back, Robert grabbed at his gut and glared at Bryan. “Ye always thought ye were so much better than me. I worked twice as hard fer half as much. Ye do no’ deserve all of this, he waved his arm across the expanse of land.”
“This,” Bryan waved at the land, “belongs to all of the clan. This,” he reiterated, “is for every one of them. Tis my duty to protect the land and the people who depend upon it. Ye never did understand that, Robert. A Laird belongs to his people, sacrifices for them. Thy lack of sacrifice is precisely why ye will never be Laird.”
Robert turned to run down the hill. Bryan did not pursue him. His wound was lethal. He would die a slow and lonely death. It was the one he had chosen for himself. Bryan turned to comfort his wife and the color washed from his face. She stood, stock still, looking in bewilderment at her husband. Sir Robert’s sword had entered her shoulder, just above her heart.
A black star spread in rays across her wool gown, growing, as he stared in horror at what he had failed to prevent. “I-I should have moved,” she said, haltingly, her eyes full of apology.
Bryan removed his shirt and tore it in half. Gently lowering Meri to the ground, he ripped open the back of her gown, sending frayed ribbons flying. Pulling her tunic and gown low, Bryan pressed the linen against the ugly wound and said a quick prayer. “Stay here,” he ordered Merianne as he loped towards his horse.
Guiding Silkey towards a stone, Bryan returned to his wife and carried her over to the stallion. Stepping on the rock for added height, Bryan gently sat Merianne astride the beast and mounted behind her.
She winced at the jarring to her shoulder but did not make a sound. Bryan turned Silkey about and made his way as quickly and smoothly as possible down the hillside. He had to keep his sword out and ready, in case Robert chose to attack again. With one hand on the reigns, Meri had to hold on to the saddle to keep her seat.
“Cinnamon-” she whispered.
“She’ll be fine. Robert is much too worried about himself right now to bother yer horse, Moh Creidh.”
Meri’s lips had lost their color. Her pale skin had become sallow. Bryan’s heart beat furiously against his chest. She could not die. She could not leave him. Despite his tentative riding, the blood’s blackening rays reached across Meri’s breast and down towards her stomach. Giving up caution for speed, Redland galloped his horse towards the castle gates.
A small moan escaped Meri’s lips. The pain was unbearable. Biting back the tears by punishing her lip, Merianne’s world began to soften. She gave herself up to the tingling numbness that encased her, relaxing against her husband’s chest, she became blissfully unaware of the jarring to her shoulder.
Chapter 9-An Unexpected Turn of Events
Increasingly, the tingling, darkness had enshrouded her. Merianne was aware of distant murmurings and jostlings; it seemed that she was being taken somewhere safe. That was enough for her. Letting go, Merianne drifted into the peaceful abyss before her. In short bursts, she seemed to fall, then suddenly, pause in her descent. Merianne was floating. The sensation was that of being lifted by some invisible hand.
For hours, days, or seconds (she could not tell, she could not care), Merianne drifted and fell, fell and drifted. The grey-black that surrounded her was not welcoming nor threatening. It was not here nor there. It just...was, and so, for once, was she. Meri did not think, she only existed. She breathed, of that she was aware. Blood coursed through her veins, of that she was certain. Beyond this reality, nothing.
And yet, perhaps, this stasis was more of an expectation than a void, a waiting, a pausing. On the distant edge of her subconscious, Merianne was aware of an approaching-something. Within the distant edge of this place, a soft, fuzzy speckle of light flickered. Flickered, then sparked, growing in depth, width, and intensity, the burning brightness grew. Like a cannon ball, a comet, then like a fiery sun, it sped towards her.
Merianne’s reality was filled with light. She was enveloped, surrounded by luminescence, but not blinded. With her mind’s eye, Meri noted a presence approaching. For the first time, Merianne was aware of a sense of self. Other than pumping blood and the rise and fall of her chest, Merianne could sense her hands and feet, her face and mouth. Meri stood and walked toward the figure before her.
Clarity of vision proved her suspicions to be true. The woman standing before her was a young version of her own grandmother. “Grandmama,” Merianne mouthed, but no words were present.
“Nay, words are no’ necessary here, my dear,” her Grandmother smiled without opening her mouth to speak.
; “Where am I?” Merianne asked, more curious than alarmed.
“Somewhere between the living and the dead, I suppose,” her Grandmama responded, chuckling. “For thou art living and I am most certainly dead.”
Merianne looked at her vibrant kin and returned the smile. “I have missed you, Grandmama. I am happy to see thee, to tell thee how much I really do need you in my life, now more than ever.”
“Tis the privilege of youth to heedlessly squander the wisdom of one’s elders. As ye grow, as ye become a woman, ye continue to learn the value of what I have taught thee. Never think I did no’ ken that ye would grow to honor me, in time.”
Merianne stepped into her Grandmama’s arms and felt the warmth of her unconditional acceptance surround her. “I have brought thee a message, Ceisdh,” her Grandmother whispered. Merianne looked up expectantly.
“Soon, my relatives will come to claim thee. Thou must no’ turn them away. Thou must see past their rough edges, as you have learned to see past mine. Ye must embrace their relation and prove their salvation. They need thee, and ye will need them. Do no’ repeat the mistakes of thy youth, for ye will be sorely tempted.”
“Think practically. Listen with an open mind and see others with thy heart. Ye will not be steered wrong. Twas with your heart that you sensed Sir Robert’s disloyalty. Twas with an open mind that ye heard the lies between his words. Use this gift to hear and see the good in others, as well as their infirmities, My Dear.”
“Thou hast the power within thee to become a great lady someday. Do no’ squander thy greatness for pettiness and frivolity. Thou art above what others think. Remember that and remember me. I love thee, Merianne.”
Already the light was fading. The darkness, not as absolute, settled in around the receding light. Merianne felt content. She was left with a sense of unconditional love. She felt surrounded by it. Yet, with her sense of body returning, a stiffness settled in.
Merianne felt unwilling to move, for fear of discomfort. A distant mumbling niggled at her senses, disturbing her center of peace. Merianne turned her head from the noise, only to be faced with a harsh light, one that did hurt her eyes.