by Lynn Tyler
Sarah sighed and looked Jocelyn straight in the eye. “I have fought for him long enough,” she responded. “At every turn I have to prove to him that I am the one for him. I am sick of it.”
Jocelyn nodded and gripped Sarah’s hand. “Then make him fight for you.”
Sarah’s expression suddenly brightened. “That would be nice,” she said quietly. “It is about time he proved that he loves me.” Her face quickly blanched. “What if he decides he would rather have Elizabeth over me?”
“Then he does not deserve you,” Jocelyn said sincerely.
When Sarah nodded with new determination, Jocelyn questioned how Sarah would make Will fight for her. Together they came up with a plan to force Will to fight for her or lose her. Sarah would leave the keep, and her betrothed. If Will followed and could prove he truly loved her, then all would be well. If he didn’t, Sarah would know once and for all where his loyalty lay. “Where will you go?” Jocelyn asked quietly.
“My mother was a Dunbar before she married my father,” Sarah answered. “My uncle, her brother, is one of the Dunbar’s best warriors. I will go and stay with him and his family.”
A soft knock on the door interrupted the pair, and Jocelyn called softly. “Enter, my lord husband,” she said, rising to meet him.
Robbie glanced at Sarah with concern and crossed the room to stoke the flames in the fireplace higher. “Are you all right, Sarah?” he asked gently.
“Aye, my laird,” she said.
Robbie cupped her chin and forced her to look him in the face. “Robbie,” he corrected softly. “What should you like me to do?” Sarah blinked and stared at him, apparently shocked into silence. “Will does not deserve you,” he said quietly. “But he loves you.”
Taking pity on the woman, Jocelyn crossed to the pair and laid her hand on his shoulder. “Then William will have to fight for her,” she said. Jocelyn explained the plan they had come up with, such as it was.
Robbie nodded and left to have a messenger dispatched to the Dunbar keep. Jocelyn patted her hand and sent her off to pack her belongings. She wasn’t surprised when the shouting started again. Soon, someone began pounding on her door. Will stormed in without waiting for her permission. “What have you told her?” he raged.
“Nothing that she does not already feel,” Jocelyn answered quietly.
Will paced the room restlessly. “She says she is leaving. She is even packing her belongings!” he roared, striding across the room to grip her shoulders. Suddenly his grip loosened, and he was thrown across the room.
Robbie backed Will up against the wall, placing his forearm across Will’s windpipe and growling threateningly. “Never touch my wife,” he snarled, increasing the pressure on Will’s throat and staring him in the face.
Concerned that he might cause Will permanent damage, she rushed over and placed her hand on bicep. “Robbie,” she murmured, standing on her toes to whisper in his ear. “Let him go.”
“He grabbed you,” Robbie responded. Jocelyn almost smiled at the tone of his voice. He sounded as if he were a little boy who had been caught doing something wrong and was trying to defend his actions.
“I do not want to patch him up once again,” she said cajolingly.
Nodding once, Robbie abruptly released his brother and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. “Did he hurt you?” he asked, pushing her away to arm’s length and scanning her from head to toe in an attempt to detect any injuries. “Did he hurt the bairn?”
She shook her head and pressed her cheek to his chest in an effort to comfort him. “Nay, we are fine.” She snaked her arms around his ribs and hugged him tightly.
Robbie dropped a kiss to the top of her head and ordered Will out of the room. “And leave Sarah alone. You really made a mess of things with her. She is a good lass, and you do not deserve her.”
Will glared at him but nodded anyway. It seemed he didn’t want to go up against Robbie’s temper again. He closed the door quietly behind him, leaving Jocelyn and Robbie alone in their chamber.
Robbie swept her off her feet and placed her on the bed. He tenderly stripped off her shift before climbing in next to her.
Every muscle in her body relaxed as he rubbed her back in small, soothing circles. “Sleep, imp,” he said in a low voice.
Nestling closer into his big body, she allowed his heat and the thud of his heart to lull her to sleep.
Chapter 17
Jocelyn frowned over her stitches and moved closer to the window. It was startling how many tunics Robbie went through in a matter of weeks. The harvest was coming in, and every day Robbie came in with a ripped tunic. She really hated sewing, but as his wife, it was her duty to see him properly attired. She missed Sarah’s company. It had been only two weeks since she had left but it seemed like much longer. At least she had Adele for company. The girl was laboring over her own sewing, having taken up the task of repairing her brothers’ clothes.
“This is bothersome,” she complained every few minutes.
Jocelyn sighed and laid the linen in her lap. “Aye, Adele, you are right, but it takes more than just skill with a sword to run a keep. That is why every man needs a woman to run things smoothly.”
Adele giggled and gazed at Jocelyn with adoration. “Will you teach me to throw a dagger so I can prove to Adam I am just as capable as any man?”
Jocelyn reached over and ruffled the girl’s hair, affection welling up in her heart. She and Adele seemed to share the same soul. She had heard Garret discussing a marriage contract with Robbie and hoped the lass would be as happy in her marriage as Jocelyn was in hers. “Perhaps we should seek Garret’s permission first,” she said. Adele’s future husband might not be as happy with her defense skills as Robbie was with her own.
Adele made a face and tossed her needle into the basket at her feet. “Garret would have me wrapped in swaddling cloths and locked in the nursery if he had his way. Besides, would you ask Robbie for permission to learn how to defend yourself?”
Jocelyn fought her grin as she placed the half-mended tunic on the stool in front of her. This girl was more like herself than she would like to admit. Of course she would never ask a male for permission to learn anything. “The idea behind a successful relationship, Adele, is to make your husband think all the great ideas are his. Come. Let us go out into the bailey. I will show you how to throw a dagger.”
Adele chattered about the different ways she would teach Adam a lesson as they made their way outside. Jocelyn smiled even as she stopped the girl. “There are just as many valuable skills to be learned about running a home, Adele. A woman cannot survive by just swinging a sword.” When Adele wrinkled her nose in disagreement, she laid her finger over the girl’s lips. “If we did not know how to ration and store our grain and meat, we would starve in the winter,” she explained gently.
Adele pursed her lips and reluctantly agreed. They nodded a quick greeting to Elizabeth, who was hanging some wash over the low stone wall. The petite woman waved back and smiled.
They continued on in silence until Adele broke the quiet. “What happened with Will and Sarah? Is it true he called her another woman’s name in bed?” she asked.
“What do you know about what goes on in the beds of adults?” Jocelyn responded.
The girl rolled her eyes. “Garret is my older brother,” she said as if that explained it all.
Jocelyn thought about the tall, muscular blond. Almost as many lasses chased him as they did Jamie. Perhaps all it really took to know what went on in adult beds was to have such a man as an older brother. “It is true, yes.”
“Why did Sarah leave?” Adele asked.
Jocelyn smiled at the memory of Will storming off into the night the day after Sarah had left. He had declared that the next time he came back, it would be with a wife in tow. And Sarah was to be that wife. “To force Will to prove his love for her.”
Adele smiled and leaned slightly against Jocelyn’s arm. “What is it like to have a man l
ove you? A man that is not your brother,” she corrected before Jocelyn could point out the devotion her brothers had for her.
Jocelyn plucked restlessly at her dress. She was scarcely three months pregnant, but already the bodices of her gowns were becoming uncomfortably tight. Robbie certainly appreciated the effect as the gowns now pushed her breasts up and together so they threatened to spill out any moment. “I do not know,” she said honestly. “Robbie has yet to confess how he feels about me.”
Adele patted her arm as they reached the targets. “He loves you,” she said. “He looks at you as if you were sent from Heaven.” The confidence in the girl’s voice stunned her just a little.
Suddenly, a cry came from somewhere behind them. “My lady,” Elizabeth sobbed breathlessly. “William has returned, and he is grievously injured.” She grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the gates.
“Where is he?” Jocelyn called. A quick glance around the inner bailey failed to reveal her brother-in-law.
“A little way outside of the gate,” Elizabeth answered impatiently, tugging harder on her sleeve. “You must come, my lady. You are the only one who can help him.”
Adele shook her head and cut them off. “Robbie will be upset if you leave the walls without him or your guards,” she said.
Jocelyn slowed at those words. Robbie had made it clear she was not to leave the walls without him or her guards. As if sensing her hesitation, Elizabeth grabbed her wrist again. “There is so much blood, my lady,” she whispered urgently. “We do not have time to wait for the guards.”
Nodding, Jocelyn stepped around Adele. “Tell Robbie where we are going and fetch my medicinals,” she instructed the girl and broke into a run at Elizabeth’s urging. She followed the woman out the gates and into the forest. “Where is he, Elizabeth?”
“Just a little farther, my lady.” They broke into a small clearing, and Jocelyn slowed to a complete stop. Something was wrong. Very wrong. The forest, which was normally a cacophony of sound, was completely silent. The only sound was the rustle of leaves and their fast breathing. There was no sign of Will nor was there any blood.
Confused, she looked over at Elizabeth and found the woman smiling slightly at her. “Where is Will, Elizabeth?” she asked worriedly.
“At the Dunbar keep, still trying to win Sarah back I suspect,” the blonde woman replied, flicking her wrist casually as if to summon someone from the trees. Jocelyn heard the clip-clop of hooves and a sick feeling washed over her.
Almost instantly, fifteen men mounted on huge warhorses surrounded them, swords pointed toward her neck. Elizabeth moved to one of the men and accepted his assistance in mounting the horse. Settling herself before him, she gazed wickedly at Jocelyn. “Jocelyn, I believe you have met Henry Campbell, laird of the Campbells and my newly betrothed. Henry, Jocelyn MacGillivray, as promised.”
Jocelyn swallowed the bile that threatened to rise in her throat. Elizabeth had betrayed them. She must have somehow been telling the Campbells about the timing of watches. Now, because of this witch, she was surrounded by fifteen of the enemy.
As surreptitiously as possible, she reached for the skirt of her dress, ready to make a grab for her dagger if she had a chance. If she was to die, she would not go down without a fight. Noticing her movement, Elizabeth giggled and touched Henry on the arm. “She keeps a dagger strapped to her leg,” she confided.
The laird laughed and dismounted so he stood before her. “The little hellcat has claws, does she?” he taunted as he yanked up her skirts and relieved her of her dagger. “That amuses me. If you had not already been defiled by the MacGillivray I would be tempted to have a taste of you myself.”
Jocelyn blanched but managed to hold his gaze. “The day I let anyone other than my husband between my thighs will be the day I commit my first murder,” she vowed, her voice hard and cold.
The threat did nothing save cause the laird to grin more widely. “Is that a challenge, hellcat?”
“Nay,” she said evenly. “’Tis a promise.”
The smile slipped off Henry’s face and was replaced with rage. He flung her dagger so that it lodged itself deep into the trunk of a tree. Ripping the strip of MacGillivray tartan she had attached to her dress off her shoulder, he dropped it on the ground, grinding it into the dirt with the heel of his boot. Drawing his own sword, he attached the tree viciously, carving his initials into the bark. Clearly the man was insane. “So Robert MacGillivray will know who finally bested him,” he said upon seeing her expression.
Henry picked her up and tossed her onto the saddle before one of his men. She landed on her stomach and the pommel dug painfully into her abdomen. “Let her stay like that,” he ordered viciously.
For the first time in her life, Jocelyn knew panic. It was as sharp as a blade and as cold as iron. Riding this way would surely harm the babe. She cast a pleading glance at Elizabeth, praying the woman would find it in her heart to help save her unborn child.
Elizabeth stared at her for a single moment before her face seemed to soften. “She is with child, Henry,” she said softly.
“So?” he asked dismissively.
“If you make her ride like that, she will surely lose the babe,” Elizabeth pleaded, dismounting and coming to stand before her laird.
An evil grin crossed the man’s face. “Good. It means there is one less MacGillivray I will have to slaughter,” he said.
“Henry,” Elizabeth said in shock. “How could you think to harm an innocent babe?”
He slapped her across the face, sending her tumbling to the ground. “You dare to question your laird?” he roared.
Elizabeth cowered meekly at his feet and sent Jocelyn a pathetic look. “Of course not,” she whispered.
The man’s face transformed into one of smug satisfaction. “I will forgive you this transgression,” he announced as if presenting her with riches and treasure. “Come, my love, let me help you mount.” He lifted her off the ground and settled her onto his horse again. He launched himself up behind her and took up the reins. Kicking the stallion in the sides, he spurred them on at a fast speed.
Jocelyn cried out as the saddle bit into her stomach. “I am sorry, my lady,” the warrior said. “I will try and make it as gentle a ride as possible.” She was grateful for his words but knew there was little he could do.
Her womb cramped, and she instinctively knew she would lose the child before the day was done. Her heart ached as she sent a prayer for the babe’s soul heavenward, and she closed her eyes to await her fate. She was determined to survive, if only to kill the man who was tormenting her husband’s clan and his bloody, traitorous intended. One way or another, she would make it back to Robbie. She would tell him she loved him.
* * * *
Robbie paused as he heard a shrill scream rise above the noise of the men. “Robbie! Robbie!” Tiny Adele was flying across the fields, her legs carrying her faster than he had ever thought imaginable. He reached out and caught the child, scooping her up and flinging her in the air. He expected her to berate him for treating her like a baby, but what she said next shocked him.
“’Tis Jocelyn,” she panted. She laid her head on his shoulder and concentrated on regaining her breath.
“What about Jocelyn?” he said, urging her to look up at him. Garret joined him and moved to take his little sister from his arms, but Robbie simply shouldered him away. “Adele, is something wrong with Jocelyn?”
“She left the bailey,” Adele wailed. “I tried to tell her to wait for you or some of your men, but she went with Elizabeth into the woods.”
Jamie dropped the scythe he was working with and joined them. “Why would she do that?” he asked.
Adele took a deep breath and explained. Robbie’s heart was pounding so hard he wondered if it would explode from his chest.
He handed the girl to Garret and took off in the direction of the gate, drawing his sword from his scabbard as he went. Jamie caught up with him, and twenty-odd warriors trailed behind
them, all armed and ready to fight. “Did Will not just send us a message saying his courtship was going slowly and he would be away for quite some time?” Jamie asked.
“Aye,” Robbie said. He held his breath as scanned the area before the bailey. There was no sign of his wife or the blonde maid. Just as Adele had said, the forest line was disturbed as if someone had taken a wild flight into it.
Holding his finger to his lips to silence his men, Robbie led them into the woods. The first thing he noticed was how quiet the woods were. No birds were chirping, no squirrels were scampering around, and surely if his wife had found his brother, she would be calling for someone to help her.
They followed the broken twigs until they came to a small clearing. Robbie had often thought to bring Jocelyn to this clearing to make love to her among the trees and birdsong, but it was too close to the keep to afford any privacy. The grass was trampled, and the horse droppings told the story. His wife and the maid had been ambushed.
“Robbie,” Jamie called. He glanced over to his brother and found him standing next to a tree. Upon closer inspection, he saw what had caused the grim look to cross his youngest brother’s face.
There, lodged in the tree at about shoulder height, was Jocelyn’s dagger. Right below were the letters H and C. Henry Campbell.
His heart dropped to his gut, and he nearly doubled over with a pain so intense he thought he would empty his stomach. His wife would never willingly be separated from her dagger, and, as she always kept it strapped to her thigh, someone had obviously lifted her skirts to get to it.
He held the dagger in his palm and noted the trembling of his hands. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he had never been so out of control of his body, something he had hated all his life. But it didn’t matter now. All that mattered now was Jocelyn.
Robbie whirled around from the sight and began praying as he had never prayed before. His sweet, fierce wife. He would rip the head off anyone who harmed her. Good glory, when he found her, he would never let her out of his sight again. He would tie her to his side if he had to.