Border Brides

by Kathryn Le Veque

  He cut her off, slowing his kisses as he cupped her face and gazed deeply into her eyes. “I am unharmed,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “They did not hurt me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am sure.”

  She wasn’t sure she believed him but gave him the courtesy of not arguing. He looked healthy enough so she would have to be satisfied with that for the moment.

  Christian caressed her cheeks with his thumbs, feeling the soft texture against his skin, as his gaze sought out his brother. Quinton was astride his charger a few feet away, his expression wrought with a mixture of approval, understanding, and relief. Christian smiled at him.

  “Thank you,” he whispered. “For not harming her, I thank you. I am forever indebted to you, Quinton.”

  Quinton threw a leg over the pommel of the saddle and slid to the ground. He unlatched his helm as he approached the pair.

  “Surely you knew I was not going to harm her,” he said, his voice soft as his gaze shifted to Eden. His eyes perused the stone gatehouse and, after a moment, he shook his head. “I do not know how I am going to explain this to Father but I assume you will support me in my decision to disobey his directive.”

  Christian’s smile faded as Gaithlin captured his attention, her hand on his cheek. “My mother came shortly after you were taken away,” she said, quickly explaining the sequence of events. “It would seem that she followed your brother and his army from Eden with the intention of rescuing me from you. Christian, whatever has happened with your father, please know that my mother and I have agreed to surrender Winding Cross in order to gain your freedom. We thought that surely your father would have you in chains for what you had done.”

  Christian’s eyebrows lifted. “As you can see, I am quite free,” he said, his focus moving to the rather substantial army that had accompanied his wife. “Although it is not necessary to surrender Winding Cross on my behalf, I would like to know who are all of these Scots.”

  Gaithlin turned around, seeing Roger and Mac along with their contingent of Scotsmen. “It’s rather a confusing story,” she said. “Roger Douglas found out that the armies of Eden and Winding Cross were on his lands so he followed them. It seems that everyone was following everyone else, and they all ended up at our hut in the Wood. I explained to Roger that your father had come to take you back to Eden to face his justice for marrying me and Roger offered to accompany me to Eden to see if he could convince your father not to punish you.”

  “The man has no right tae punish ye,” Roger said, astride his horse several feet away. He had heard Gaithlin’s explanation and was determined to speak up. “Ye married tae secure peace. If yer father canna understand, then I’ve come tae convince him. An arrogant lot, the St. Johns. ’Tis time they listened tae a more reasonable man and end this madness.”

  Christian had no idea who the big, blond Scotsman was but he suspected. “Laird Douglas, I presume?”

  Roger nodded slowly. “And ye must be th’ Demon.”

  “I am Christian St. John.”

  “Remember this day that I stood fer ye, Demon.”

  “I will. Thank you for bringing my wife to me. If you ever have need of me, I will respond.”

  That seemed to satisfy Roger a great deal, finally re-establishing ties that had been long dead. Even if Jean St. John would not acknowledge his Scot kin, Christian would and by reputation alone he was a far better man than his father.

  “Where is your father, Christian?” Gaithlin asked softly, peering at the stone edifice of Eden. She’d never been this close to it before and was inherently intimidated. “Why are you not in chains? Quinton said he was going to punish you for marrying me.”

  Christian gazed into her eyes, touching that beautiful face as he did so. He wasn’t quite sure how to tell her everything that had happened but he had to; most especially, he had to tell Quinton. In fact, there was a good deal to discuss. His mind was overwhelmed with the possibilities, both present and future. But gazing at the woman before him and the party of knights and Scots that had come with her, all of them willing to fight for him and for her, he felt in distinctly good company. It was time for a change.

  “Let us all go inside to discuss this,” he said to her, then looked to Quinton. “As for you, I need a few moments of your time privately. Accompany me at this time and the others will follow.”

  With that, he kissed his wife and asked for a moment with his brother alone. Gaithlin hung back as Christian and Quinton began walking towards the great gatehouse of Eden, speaking in hushed tones. They were about a dozen feet away when Gaithlin and the others moved to follow. She could see her husband speaking to Quinton in hushed tones and she could clearly see when Quinton’s face went pale with shock. Something terrible had happened; she could see it in Quinton’s expression. But Christian was safe and whole, and that was all she truly cared about. Whatever the terrible thing was, they would all face it together.

  “I wonder what your husband is speaking to his brother about?” Alicia’s soft voice filled Gaithlin’s ears.

  She looked over her left shoulder to see Alicia riding up beside her aboard her shaggy brown steed. Malcolm was seated behind the woman, his skinny arms wrapped around her waist. On the trip south, Malcolm and Alicia had become fast friends and Gaithlin thought it was good for her mother to be distracted from Eldon’s death. Once Gaithlin explained her relationship to Malcolm and how the boy was to become her adopted son, Alicia took to the lad right away. She seemed to be smiling a good deal, anyway.

  “I am not sure,” Gaithlin replied to her mother’s query. “Whatever it is, Quinton appears shocked, wouldn’t you say?”

  Alicia nodded faintly, her eyes on the pair of knights up ahead. “Do you think he is telling him of Alex’s death?”

  Gaithlin shrugged. “It is hard to say,” she said. “I am not sure any of that matters any longer. I am certain that Jean was shocked, however. What a blow it must have been to the man’s ego to know he had been fighting a woman for the past ten years.”

  Alicia was certain that was the truth. It made her far more wary to enter the grounds of Eden, knowing she would be facing a shamed adversary. Then, her focus moved to the great stone fortress of Eden which was now looming larger than life in the near distance. After a moment, she shook her head.

  “I have never been so close to this place and not had a hail of arrows raining down upon me,” she said softly. “It seems very strange.”

  Gaithlin turned to look at her. “Are you afraid?”

  Alicia thought a moment. “Afraid? Nay,” she said. “But as I gaze upon this castle, I see generations of de Gares who have died because of it, your father included. So many deaths. It does not seem right to enter the gates in peace. I feel I should be entering the gates as a conquering hero to justify all of the de Gare dead. I cannot help wonder what your father would say.”

  Gaithlin could see up ahead that Christian and Quinton had come to a halt. Their conversation was evidently over and Christian’s gaze was seeking out his wife, wandering back with the group and speaking with a woman in armor. He lifted a hand to Gaithlin and she waved back. But before she went to him, she turned to her mother.

  “I would hope that Father would be happy,” she said quietly. “I believe he only wanted peace as well. Even if he did not and his thoughts were much the same as Jean St. John’s… I choose to believe he was fighting for something more than just an old family Feud. I choose to believe Papa wanted peace, after all. Isn’t that truly the only thing worth fighting for?”

  Gaithlin left her mother with that thought. Alicia watched her daughter as she made her way to her husband, falling into his embrace, something that seemed so natural and warm between them. Even though he was the hated Demon, it did her heart good to see her daughter so very happy. It was evident in everything about her.

  Alicia’s thoughts returned to Alex de Gare, the proud and stubborn man she had married. He’d always had a big soft spot when it came t
o his daughter. Once he had overcome the shock of his daughter marrying into the House of St. John, she was sure he would have been happy for Gaithlin, too.

  Still… the thought of Alex’s reaction when he realized his son-in-law was none other than the Demon of Eden made her smile.

  EPILOGUE

  One year later

  “Push, Gaithlin,” Alicia encouraged. “He is almost here. Give us another big push!”

  Squatting on a birthing stool in the massive bedchamber she shared with her husband at Eden, Gaithlin was exhausted and in pain. Having gone into labor with her first child around sunset, she had spent the entire night rolling with contractions until dawn. Now, as the sun peeked over the eastern horizon, the head of her child was pushing his way into the world.

  But it was excruciating work. Sweating and in agony, she gripped the stool as her maid servants held the skirt of her shift up and away from the work going on below her waist. Alicia had been with her daughter throughout her pregnancy and was now delivering her grandchild. It was an exciting, thrilling, and terrifying moment. The baby’s red head was just starting to make an appearance and Alicia was seized with joy.

  “One more push, Gaithlin,” she said soothingly, rubbing her daughter’s quivering thigh. “He is ready to come but you must push hard with your next pain. Can you do this?”

  Gaithlin’s hair, wet with perspiration, hung in her face. She grunted and groaned. “I do not have a choice,” she snapped. “Can you not just pull the bloody baby out of me?”

  Alicia fought off a grin at her daughter’s raging. “I can pull him if you push a little more,” she said. “Push again, sweetheart. One more time!”

  Another pain seized Gaithlin and she grunted loudly as she bore down, pushing with all of her might at the child who had been seemingly stuck for the past hour or two. He was a large baby and quite unwilling to be born, but Gaithlin had other ideas. She would not let her son gain the upper hand; at least, not yet. With a groan that turned into a scream, she pushed as hard as she could and the baby’s head slipped forth. Alicia grabbed hold, working the child until a shoulder popped out. Then, with another great push, the very fat baby slithered out into his grandmother’s waiting hands.

  “He is here!” Alicia cried, wiping off his face and mouth as an old serving woman rubbed the baby’s feet. “Gaithlin, it is a boy! You have a son!”

  Collapsed against her maids, Gaithlin let out a cry of joy and relief about the time the baby began to mewl like a kitten. When Alicia rubbed the baby’s back vigorously, the child let out a substantial wail. As Gaithlin tried to find the strength to sit up and gain a better look at her son, the door to the chamber flew open.

  Christian was standing in the doorway, his handsome face pale and his eyes wide. “I heard a cry,” he said breathlessly. “Has my son arrived? How is my wife?”

  Gaithlin giggled at her husband’s panicked reaction and strained to look over her shoulder at him. “He is here,” she said. “Your son has healthy lungs.”

  Even though Christian had heard the initial cry of the baby, still, it was a bit shocking to realize that the child they had longed and prayed for had finally arrived. He even swayed a little but Quinton, standing behind him in the corridor outside of the chamber, gave him a little shove into the room.

  “Go see him, Papa,” he teased.

  Christian staggered into the room, drawing close to his wife, still seated on the birthing stool, and collapsing on his knees beside her. He didn’t even look at the baby; the first thing he did was throw his arms around Gaithlin and bury his face in her chest. He hugged her tightly, tears coming to his eyes in joy and relief, as she wrapped weary arms around him.

  “Are you well?” he asked, his voice muffled by her shift.

  Gaithlin lay her cheek on the top of his head. “Well enough,” she muttered, watching her mother hand the baby off to a servant so the woman could deliver the afterbirth. “I cannot say I would be willing to do this again anytime soon.”

  Christian laughed softly, lifting his head to kiss her tenderly. “And I cannot say I would be willing to endure the wait again anytime soon,” he said. “But thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

  Emotional, exhausted, Gaithlin wept softly as Christian kissed her lips and cheeks. Her mother was still working between her legs and Christian deliberately kept his gaze on Gaithlin’s face as the woman finished delivering the afterbirth and sent it away with one of the maids. Then she took her grandson from the servant, handing the screaming, flailing infant to her daughter.

  Both Gaithlin and Christian cooed with awe as Alicia placed the baby on Gaithlin’s chest. As Gaithlin held him tightly, Christian timidly touched the little hand.

  “He is so large,” Christian said, grinning. “And look; he has blond hair.”

  Gaithlin was busy inspecting the mewling little face but noticed the thick mat of fine hair, drying blond in the warmth of the room. “He will look just like you,” she said. “Already I can see it.”

  Christian had never been so moved by any single event in his life as he gazed at his wife and son. His big hand rested gently against the baby’s soft back as he took a moment to absorb the joy he was feeling. He could hardly believe it.

  “Put him on the nipple, Gaithlin,” Alicia said, hovering over the little family. “See if he will feed.”

  Obediently, and with Christian’s help, Gaithlin pulled back the top of her shift to expose an engorged breast. She put the baby against her nipple, cooing to him gently, until the baby latched on and began to suckle furiously. Alicia had her hands on the baby’s head, admiring him just as Gaithlin and Christian were, when a soft voice called to her.

  “Alicia,” it was Quinton. She looked up and saw him standing in the doorway, beckoning to her. “Come to me. Let them alone for a few moments.”

  With a smile and a kiss to the top of Christian’s head, Alicia went to Quinton, taking his outstretched hand and accepting a kiss to her cheek. Over the past year, Quinton had taken quite a liking to Alicia, a lovely older woman, and a gentle romance was in the making. It had done Alicia’s heart a world of good as well and she was learning not to hold back her feelings. As she stood with Quinton in the doorway, watching Gaithlin and Christian with their newborn, she felt a tug on her skirts.

  Malcolm stood next to her, trying to get her attention; over the past year, he had filled up and grown taller and was now almost at her shoulder height. He was quick, intelligent, loving and humorous, and spent most of his time with Alicia at Winding Cross as lord of the castle. He had become an integral part of all of their lives, especially Alicia’s, and she smiled down at the young boy she loved as much as if he was her own flesh and blood. With her daughter and her husband living mostly at Eden, Malcolm had been a welcome addition to Alicia’s lonely life.

  “You have a new brother, Malcolm,” she said, running a hand over his bristly hair. “What do you think about that?”

  Malcolm shrugged as he looked into the warm chamber where Gaithlin and Christian were giggling softly over the infant. “He’s just a bairn,” he sniffed. “I canna play wif’ him.”

  Alicia and Quinton laughed softly. “You will be able to when he gets a little older,” Alicia told him. “Would you like to go in and see him?”

  Malcolm shook his head, frowning. “I’m hungry.”

  Quinton put his hand on the lad’s shoulder and turned him around for the stairs that led down to the great hall below. “Come along, young man,” he said. “Let us find you something to fill that bottomless stomach of yours. I believe Jasper is down in the hall right now, is he not?”

  Malcolm nodded eagerly. “He’s fixin’ weapons. He told me I could help.”

  “Then we shall go down and see him.”

  Malcolm gladly went with Quinton, a man he truly adored. Jasper, after having spent several weeks in the vault of Eden, had eventually come to terms with the new order of Eden and Winding Cross, and Christian had eventually released him. The
man was a knight, pure and simple, and as always did as he was told. If the Demon told him to accept the peace with Winding Cross, then he would. He was still rather edgy but, oddly enough, he and Gaithlin had formed a bond because she refused to let the man intimidate her and Jasper, in his own way, had learned to respect that. He was back to being one of the family, and Christian and Quinton were grateful.

  Alicia ended up following Malcolm and Quinton down into the hall, leaving Gaithlin and Christian alone with the baby. The infant had stopped nursing and now lay peacefully sleeping against his mother’s chest. Christian continued to gently stroke the baby’s back, touching him as if to confirm that his son had truly arrived. He still could hardly believe it.

  “He has the shape of my father’s head,” he murmured, touching the baby’s skull. “Soft and egg-shaped.”

  Gaithlin giggled. “And he has my father’s nose,” she said. “I wonder what your father would say when he looked at his new grandson and saw his old adversary’s nose squarely on his face?”

  Christian snorted. “He would rage for the first five minutes,” he said, “and then he would pick the baby up and tell him how wonderful he was and what greatness he expected from him.”

  “Did he do that to you?”

  Christian nodded firmly. “Indeed he did. Notice that I listened to him.”

  Gaithlin reached out, touching his cheek sweetly. “Of course you did,” she murmured. “Little Alexander will be a fitting legacy for his great father.”

  Christian looked at the baby cradled against his wife’s breast. “You realize that people will call him the Demon’s Spawn or something like that,” he sighed. “My son will have quite a reputation to live up to.”

  Gaithlin gazed down at the infant slumbering so peacefully. “He is the link of two great houses,” she whispered. “He is the culmination of all that is great and wonderful from my family and from yours. Mayhap, in a sense, he is his own legacy, an example of the new future between Winding Cross and Eden.”