“’Tis your horse now,” said Lucas as he peeled and cored an apple with an awe-inspiring speed and skill.
“Nay, ’tis Brother Peter’s. Cousin Matthew said so.”
“Aye, so he told us when we stopped at the monastery on our way back here. ’Tis yours now.”
“Oh, dear. Ye didnae threaten the mon again, did ye?”
“Nay, we just convinced him that it would be a fine gesture if he gave us the horse so that none of us would be troubled with bringing the beast back. Told him we would see it as a gracious mea culpa for what he tried to do to our sister. He agreed.”
“Then ’tis Keira’s horse. She was the one he wronged.”
“Aye, but one thing Ardgleann has a lot of now is horses, and she doesnae need another. So, ’tis yours.”
Alana decided not to argue the matter. One thing was certain. It was not Brother Peter’s horse any longer. Alana idly wondered if she would give it to Gregor, perhaps as a wedding gift if he ever got around to speaking of marriage. She then realized that there would be few chances for some private conversation or kisses with her brothers here and turned her mind to thinking of a way to get them to leave without insisting she go with them.
“And we willnae be leaving until after the wedding,” said Artan, and Lucas grunted in agreement.
“Wedding? What wedding?” she asked, startled out of making plans to hurry them on their way home to Donncoill.
“Yours and this laddie’s.”
She heard Ewan choke on a laugh and suspected it was because very few people called Gregor a laddie. The way her brothers were eyeing her told her they were prepared for an argument and she decided there was no need to disappoint them. It was true that she wanted nothing more than to be Gregor’s wife, but she wanted him to go to the altar willingly, not dragged there by her brothers. There were enough missteps between them without adding a forced marriage and all the anger and resentment that could stir up.
“Nay, there is no reason for ye to be demanding marriage between Gregor and me.”
“That isnae what Cousin Matthew said.”
As soon as she was able, Alana intended to write her cousin a scolding letter about having a big mouth. “Weel, Cousin Matthew doesnae ken what he is talking about.”
“He had his tongue down your throat,” Artan said and watched her closely over the rim of his tankard as he had a deep drink of ale.
Alana felt herself blush fiercely. “That doesnae mean he must marry me. I am certain ye have had your tongues down the throats of many women and ye havenae married them.” She could not believe the things she was saying and decided it was all her brothers’ fault.
“Of course we havenae. Most of them arenae the sort of women a mon marries. Ye are.”
“A mon shouldnae be forced to marry a lass just because he kissed her in the garden!” Arguing with her brothers was akin to banging her head against a wall and Alana decided she had had enough. “I believe this discussion is over and nay more of any use or sense will be said,” she said, quite proud of how dignified she sounded as she started to stand up.
“Ye run along then, lass,” said Lucas. “We dinnae mind having this talk with Gregor. The mon cannae seem to decide what his name is, but I suspicion we can talk some sense into him.”
Alana quickly sat down again. Her brothers’ discussions with other men could swiftly become brawls, and she had the feeling the MacFingals were ones to join in such a thing wholeheartedly.
“They are the kind of brothers that make ye always find yourself looking for something to hit them o’er the head with, arenae they,” murmured Fiona.
“Most certainly. Something verra heavy, but nay so heavy that ye cannae hit them o’er the head again and again without getting tired.” She ignored the way her brothers just grinned.
“There is no need for ye to insist upon a marriage. I dinnae care what Brother Matthew has told ye. He wasnae with us in that cottage, was he? And just because two people share a cottage, it doesnae mean that they share anything else. Wheesht, for the first week Gregor and I were together, he thought I was a child. And he rescued me from the Gowans and got me all the way here safely, most of it on foot. In fact, there were several times he saved my life. Ye ought to be ashamed of yourselves for impugning his honor in this way.”
“Weel said, lass,” murmured Gregor, his voice shaking with laughter.
As soon as she was done beating her brothers, she would beat Gregor, Alana decided. “This isnae the way Maman taught us to behave when guests in a mon’s home.” For a brief moment her brothers looked uneasy, but then Lucas’s eyes narrowed, and she knew that ploy to get them to be quiet had failed.
“A mon’s honor demands that he wed the wellborn lass he has been frolicking with,” said Lucas.
“Oh! And now ye impugn my honor!”
Gregor could not help it, he grinned as he listened to the ensuing argument. Alana never lied to her brothers, never denied what had happened between them, but never admitted it, either. When she had first refused to be married to him, he had felt a sharp pain, seeing it as the rejection of him he realized he had been half expecting all along. Then he started to understand what she was doing. She did not wish to have them both forced to the altar, and he could only agree with that. Until they had talked and he had found the courage to tell her all he felt, it would not be good for them to be forced into marriage. There was also the fact that he simply did not like these men telling him what he must do.
For a brief moment he considered the possibility of letting them have their way. It would get him what he wanted without his having to spit out words that seemed to be stuck in his throat. Alana would be his, which was exactly what he needed, and he would be free of the burden of having to expose all that was in his heart.
He inwardly shook his head, forcing that idea out of his mind. His first thought had been the wiser one. He and Alana needed to talk openly about all they felt for each other and all they wanted and expected from each other. Despite how he had hurt her, she had given him a second chance. Gregor knew he owed it to her to give her the full truth about how he felt. If they were forced to marry, Gregor suspected he would let his cowardice rule him, for, after all, he would have what he wanted already.
There was another reason he wished to have a serious talk with Alana—an exchange of all the truths they had kept hidden from each other or from themselves. He had no real idea of what she felt for him. He could guess, and Gregor admitted that he did a lot of that, but she had said no more about what lay in her heart than he had. Although he could still hear her call what they shared beautiful and precious to her, those were not really words of love, but of passion. What he needed from her was the deeper, the more binding emotions such as love.
Never had he been so concerned about what a woman felt and he supposed he ought to be ashamed of that. It was his past, however, and now he looked to his future. Alana was his future, and he wanted her to come to him willingly. He hoped she could convince her brothers that there was no need for them to be dragged before a priest.
“And have ye thought about our father and what he may be doing right now?” Alana asked, hoping her father had not selected a man for her but more than willing to use the possibility to stop her brothers from forcing Gregor to marry her.
She thought it a little odd that Gregor just sat there, apparently lost in his own thoughts. He occasionally grinned at some exchange between her and her pigheaded brothers but made no attempt to defend himself or protest the plans her brothers had for him. Alana did not want him to loudly declare that he had no intention of marrying her no matter what he was threatened with, or something of that ilk, but she did think he might say something. Most men would be raging at her brothers simply because they did not like to be ordered to do anything.
Her brothers had their heads together and were whispering, and Alana scowled. That was always a bad sign. Either they knew something about what her father was doing, which they were soon to use to
counter her argument, or they were planning some attack, verbal or physical. It was not that unusual for her brothers to decide that there had been enough talking and start to use their fists to settle a dispute. Since they would never hurt her, they would go after Gregor. An attack on him could bring forth the whole family. Good as they were in all the arts of battle, she doubted her brothers could hold off Gregor and his army of brothers. Nor did she wish a fight between members of her blood family and those of the family she wished to join.
She took a sip of cider and tried to act as if she had just struck them a telling blow and won the dispute. There was a faint humming in her ears and she feared she had allowed herself to become too warm. The way Lucas raised his head and looked at her told her there would be some further argument, however, and she sighed before bracing herself to face it.
“The last we kenned, our father hadnae found any mon fool enough to have ye,” Lucas growled. “And I doubt ye have heard from our father since leaving Donncoill.”
“There is no need to become insulting just because ye cannae win the argument,” she said. “Ye havenae heard from our father since leaving Donncoill, either, so ye cannae be any more sure than I am about what he may have done.”
“Ah, then we shall just take the both of ye back to Donncoill and speak to Father about this,” said Artan and then he smiled. “’Tis his right to decide such things anyway.”
“’Tis my right and weel ye ken it,” she snapped and jumped to her feet. Even as she wondered why Fiona muttered a curse, Alana felt all the blood slowly drain from her head. “Oh dear. This isnae good,” she whispered and started to sink to the floor.
Gregor watched all the color flee Alana’s cheeks. One moment she had been prettily flushed with the rigors of her dispute with her brothers; the next she had gone as white as snow. He lunged for her as she started to crumple to the floor with a surprising grace. Catching her in his arms, he barely kept her head from hitting the floor.
Perhaps there had been some damage done inside her when she had fallen off that cliff, he thought in horror. There was always the chance that it had taken some time for it to reveal itself in any way. Gregor looked to Fiona for some answers and found himself staring into the angry, cold silver eyes of Alana’s impressively big, strong brothers.
Chapter 21
“I think ye have been sticking more than your tongue in—”
Artan’s angry and slightly crude words ended on a grunt as Lucas slapped him on the back of his head. Gregor knew he would be eager to answer the belligerence he sensed in the twins if he were not so concerned about Alana. Holding her close as he stood up with her cradled in his arms, he started to walk out of the great hall. He could hear the twins, Ewan, and Fiona hurrying after him. The only one he was glad to have following him was Fiona, for he had great confidence in her healing skills.
The moment he put Alana down on her bed, Fiona rushed to her side, muttering, “I told her nay to stand up too quickly or move too fast.”
Gregor thought nothing of her words until she blushed and cast him a brief look weighted with guilt and secret knowledge before turning her full attention back on Alana. Then he began to consider what would make a healthy woman who was enjoying a rousing argument with her pigheaded brothers faint simply because she stood up too quickly. At first he had feared that Alana had finally succumbed to some hidden injury gained in her fall, but not now. Although not by choice, he had been around enough women who were carrying a child to know exactly what Alana’s sudden faint meant. Alana was carrying his child.
Why had she not told him? he wondered, feeling a deep hurt as he rapidly considered all the bad reasons for such silence. Then he grimaced over his own idiocy. She had not told him about the child because of what had happened with Mavis. It had taken a fortnight of assiduously courting her to ease the hurt he had inflicted and regain her trust. There was even the chance that Alana had only just realized that she was carrying his child. He hoped that was not why she had suddenly softened toward him, but he did not care all that much if it was. Once she was irrevocably his, once he had her back in his bed, he could continue to mend things between them.
The soft but sharp clearing of a throat brought Gregor out of his rambling thoughts. He turned toward the sound and found Alana’s two brothers standing at the foot of her bed glaring at him. They had obviously guessed what her condition was as well.
“Ye Camerons are becoming a sharp pain in my arse,” snapped Lucas.
“Actually, I am a MacFingal,” Gregor drawled.
It did not surprise Gregor when both Fiona and Ewan looked at him as if he had lost his mind. Every time one of Alana’s brothers spoke to him, he felt a compelling urge to respond in a manner that was certain to anger them. They had every right to their anger and he knew it. Their sister had been a virgin, was a woman of good family, and he had made her his leman. He did not think of her that way but knew most everyone else would if they discovered she had been his lover. He had given the Murray twins no more reason to think his intentions toward their sister were honorable than he had given Alana herself. If their situations were reversed, Gregor knew he would be eager to do them some injury.
“Ye will be married to Alana as soon as we can find a priest.”
“That should be something decided between Alana and myself, dinnae ye think?”
“It should have been decided ere ye put your bairn in her belly.”
“Now, we cannae be sure that is why she had fainted, can we?”
Lucas snorted and looked at Gregor with disgust. “We can be.” He nodded toward Fiona. “She is. And, I am thinking, so are ye, for all ye are acting like a cocksure bastard who needs his neck wrung.”
“Mayhap we should take him outside and have us a wee talk with him,” said Artan.
The way Artan was clenching and unclenching his fists at his side made it very clear to Gregor just how Artan wished to make his point. Gregor suddenly realized that he could tell which twin was which and he almost grinned. Maybe he ought to let them take him outside and toss him around the bailey for a while. He had clearly lost his wits, and they might be able to knock some sense back into him.
“Gregor,” said Ewan as he moved to stand next to his brother, “the decision is yours to make. I willnae tell ye what to do. But heed me, if ye dinnae want the lass, I will stand by ye and help ye deal with her kinsmen.”
Leave it to Ewan to put it all so succinctly that all posturing became useless, thought Gregor. With that one quiet statement of support, Ewan had nicely recalled Gregor to the cold fact that this was not just a private matter between him and Alana. His family would not meekly accept any harm or insult done to him, and her family would not quietly accept any harm or insult done to her. It was time to cease trading glares and insults with Alana’s irritating brothers, no matter how enjoyable he found it, and face a few facts.
Of course he wanted Alana. She carried his child. She was his mate and he had known that for a fact for quite a while. He loved her and wanted her by his side for the rest of his life. As much fun as it was to refuse the demands of her brothers, in the end the ones who would suffer the most for that game were Alana, him, and the child they had created.
“Nay, Ewan, there will be none of that,” Gregor said. “Ye ken weel that I want her.”
“Then why are ye arguing with us about this?” demanded Artan.
“Because ye irritate me,” replied Gregor, and he shrugged.
Artan blinked slowly and then grinned. “Och, weel, fair enough, then.” He looked at Ewan. “Where can we find us a priest?” he asked.
The moment Ewan told them, the two men left, and Gregor looked at his brother. “Those are two verra odd men.”
“But good men, I think,” said Fiona as she tucked the bedclothes around Alana. “Far more clever than they seem to want people to think, too. And just consider for a moment all they have been through in these last weeks. They go out looking for one sister, fearing the worst due to all sor
ts of chilling rumors, they find her with our Liam, fight a battle, and then have to go hunting for another sister who has disappeared. I suspicion they ken all that happened to ye and Alana on your journey. And what do they find when they return to Scarglas—Alana with you in the garden, kissing her quite thoroughly from all they said. ’Struth, one must wonder why they havenae just gutted ye and taken her home.”
Gregor thought over all she had said and grinned when she nodded. “Aye, ye are right.” He quickly grew serious and a little concerned as he moved to the side of the bed and lightly stroked Alana’s hair. “Why has she nay awakened yet?”
“She sleeps,” replied Fiona. “This last fortnight has been a trial for her, I think. Aye, ’tis more like the last three weeks. I suspicion the bairn she carries hasnae helped. Whilst ye and her brothers glared and snarled at each other, she did stir a wee bit, but then she went from a faint to a much-needed sleep.”
“Her brothers will return soon with that priest.”
“And then we will wake her, but we should let her rest for a wee while.” Fiona smiled her thanks to Ewan when he set a chair near the bed and then she sat down to begin her vigil. “Go away,” she said, “and see to the preparations. We can at least try to make it all a wee bit festive.”
“But I should tell her what has happened and what has been decided,” protested Gregor.
“I can do that. It may be for the best that I do. She willnae just say nay and refuse to listen to another word about the matter if I am the one talking to her. Ye may need to talk some more with her brothers, too.”
Gregor nodded and left the room with Ewan. It seemed that he and Alana would have to have that serious discussion after they were married. That troubled him, but then he realized what else this sudden marriage meant. Alana would be back in his bed tonight. Significantly cheered, he made his way down to the great hall, where he and Ewan busied themselves preparing the room for a wedding.
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