In one smooth motion Kincaid took advantage of Broderick’s lack of concentration and brought his broadsword down upon him, slashing him across his chest as he turned to face him, dropping him to his knees. Looking up at Kincaid, Broderick saw the scarred, bleeding laird smile as he squeezed the hilt of his blade.
“Now, you die Broderick. Your widow will make a lovely bride.”
Still kneeling upon the frozen ground Broderick felt the blood ooze freely from his large wound as he readied his blade, both injured and breathless he focused his energy on the large warrior who stood above him, looking up he clutched his chest as Kincaid laughed.
“Stand up Broderick, at least die like a man!” Kincaid taunted as he staggered, barely remaining on his feet, the one-eyed laird was close to falling down himself.
Using his shortsword to stand up, Broderick slowly stood up and clutched his blades just as an arrow grazed past his face from directly behind him, sinking deep into Kincaid’s good eye.
Moving like lighting, Broderick jerked his shortsword up into Kincaid’s still beating heart, “Back to Hell Kincaid, you will never hurt her again.” He spat, jerking the sword back out and kicking the still standing laird down with one swift movement. He watched as the life went out in the sadistic bastard’s eyes. Assured that he as dead, he turned around to see Elisabeth standing, her bow notched with another arrow ready to fire if need be.
Raising his bloodied weapons, he and his men sounded their battle cry. The battle was over, Kincaid was dead and the rest of his army surrendered easily after he had fallen. Lowering his weapons his eyes swept over his brother and Isobel ensuring himself they were okay, shifting his gaze over to his wife he saw her stumble as she started to walk towards him.
Sheathing his weapons he ran across the field to her, catching her in his arms as her knees hit the ground; the right side of her gown was saturated with her blood.
Cradling her in his arms he kissed her forehead as he heard Kendrix ordering the army and calling for Elisabeth’s warhorse.
“Broderick, your chest!” She cried seeing his wound up close.
“I’ll be alright lass, we need to get you home!” He retorted as he walked towards the black stallion she rode here.
“Put me down Broderick, I can ride, I’m just lightheaded from the blood loss. Your injury is most severe!” She argued.
“We ride together Elisabeth, I will never let you go again,” He barked, swinging up onto her horse with her in his arms effortlessly.
Behind them Kendrix gave orders to Ajax for the army, as he tossed Isobel upon a horse, and followed her into the saddle.
Nodding to Elisabeth and Broderick, Kendrix spurred his horse and galloped out of the burning camp with his daughter in his arms, the wolfhounds followed close behind, still protecting the smallest member per Elisabeth’s orders. Following Kendrix out of the camp Broderick rode with one arm protectively wrapped around her waist, holding her tightly against him as they stormed through the forest towards his castle.
Broderick’s mind raced, he had yet to mention the babe within her womb and neither had Elisabeth. Did the arrow hit it? Would she bleed out? He had seen many men fall to small arrow wounds, and she was losing a substantial amount of blood. Holding her in his arms he felt his own chest throbbing, growing warm with blood as the injury continued to bleed. Because of his well-laid tartan, Elisabeth had yet to see the gravity of his injury, he guessed that it rivaled her own she sustained when her family was murdered. He was losing a considerable amount of blood; he knew that, yet he didn’t want to alarm the woman in his arms. He simply wanted to hold her close to him; he had missed her so much. He had come close to losing her tonight, yet they had won the day and Kincaid was dead. Together they rode back to the castle, trailing close behind Kendrix and Isobel, the torches of the castle illuminated the tall stonewalls as they approached hours later.
***
Riding home Elisabeth searched her heart, how was she going to tell her husband she was with child, after that battle? Would he hate her? Would he scorn her for her reckless behavior?
“We are almost home my love, this time I won’t screw up welcoming you home Lis, you don’t know how desperately I yearn to fall asleep next to you again. Jesu, I missed that, I missed you so much. I cannae believe that I am married to the King of England’s cousin and the rightful heir to his crown. You really are destined to be a queen Lis, there would be no one finer to ascend the title than you, you have royalty running through your veins.”
“I care not for the crown Broderick, only for my husband and his legacy. My cousin will produce an heir and I will be absolved of my duty to the crown. I want nothing more than to live our lives in peace and solitude of your lands until my dying day. Scotland suits me… I am her queen. England has no appeal to me.” More truthful words had never been spoken from her lips. She had never cared nor wanted to be in line for the throne, it had only haunted her since she was a babe.
“Good, because your husband cares only for you, and greatly dislikes England and sharing you,” he replied, kissing the side of her temple as he squeezed her gently as they crossed the drawbridge, “Welcome home my love.”
“Home.” She hummed, smiling as they arrived safely into the protection of the bailey directly behind Kendrix and Isobel. As Kendrix and Broderick rode their horses over the drawbridge the resounding cheering of the remaining warriors who were left to guard the castle echoed off the tall walls of Castle MacMillan. Everyone was celebrating the return of Laird MacMillan and his family.
Sliding off the saddle as soon as they stopped, she looked up to see Broderick’s chest stained red with blood. Ripping his tartan off his chest, she hissed the moment her eyes saw the wound. “To your study, now!” She pointed, demanding his attention immediately. Uncaring of the men who looked on, her eyes wide with horror as she looked upon her husband’s chest.
***
Smiling a fierce wife, “Aye wife.” He easily agreed. Tossing the reins to a stable hand, he saw that Kendrix easily gave orders for the guards, and the returning warriors as he carried a sleeping Isobel in his arms. Reaching down, he clasped Elisabeth’s hand and started for the castle, a very welcoming view. At the stairs, Rhona stood in tears as she watched them walk towards her. The old hen cared for him like a mother for years, he too cared deeply for his old nursemaid. Rhona shed tears of joy as she watched them all return.
Beside him, he heard his wife hail to Rhona.
“We are alive Rhona, never fear, but I do need you to send up hot water and supplies immediately to Broderick’s study.”
“Happy to see ya dears, never doubted ye for a moment Elisabeth, not for one moment my child!” She called, turning back into the castle, throwing the doors wide in search of her mistress’s supplies.
Looking down at his petite wife, he marveled at her composure. She was wounded and just underwent fulfilling her vow to revenge her family. Kincaid was dead and they had all arrived home alive and safe, most women would be shriveling under immense pressure and the emotions tonight caused. His wife however, was helping him walk into his castle, and still acting like she was a queen. She was amazing. Her strength and tenacity was inspiring, few lairds and kings had such courage and wits about them, let alone a three and twenty woman who was with child.
Walking up towards his tower, the same tower where earlier today he had caused such a rift between himself and Kendrix, along with accusing his wife of grave misdeeds, he recounted how today could have been so different. If he had never been captured, Elisabeth would have never been present when he delivered sweet vengeance against Kincaid and his men. Kendrix was right; Kincaid had played into her hand perfectly.
Unlocking the door to the tower, he reached up and grabbed a candle to light their way as they slowly walked up the stairs together, the wolfhounds passing them as they ran ahead.
“How is ye arm Lis? I am amazed at the blows ye blocked from Ivan tonight, I’ve never seen a stronger man in all of my days.�
� He admitted as they walked into the study.
***
“Sore, my entire body is sore, that man was a leviathan.” She confessed, escorting him to the chair before the fire. Her wound had stopped bleeding over an hour ago. She was confident it posed no threat to her health, she assured him time and again tonight on their ride home. Broderick of course was being ridiculously overprotective and was overly worried about her. She had missed the way he worried about her so. It was good to have him home.
Broderick groaned as he sat down, reaching up to clutch his chest in discomfort as he scowled. She knew he hated showing any weakness. Seeing him get comfortable she turned around and stoked the fire, tossing in a few more logs to add much needed heat and light.
Elisabeth turned around and sighed, home. She was finally home. Her husband, his brother and niece were all safe, and they were all home. Seeing the dogs perk up, she heard Rhona at the base of the stairs asking permission to come up, hailing down to her she watched as hot water and supplies were brought. Rhona talked Broderick’s ear off while the staff brought buckets of hot water and fresh clothes, food and supplies. Seeing that the young couple had everything they needed, Rhona kissed Broderick’s head and gave Elisabeth a warm hug before she quickly disappeared.
Finally, alone with Broderick in their private retreat emotions swept over her like a stampeding herd. She could let her guard down. Looking at her husband, the tears finally sprang forth. He noticed, opening his arms, she saw him tilt his chin beckoning her to come to him. Running across the room she jumped into his lap and wrapped her arms around him and cried. She was unafraid of appearing weak or womanly, she had longed for her husband for weeks upon weeks. The sadness, the lonely sleepless nights she had endured, the pain in her heart and the realization she was carrying his child. She needed nothing more than Broderick’s embrace. Sobbing incoherently into his chest, she felt his large hands run up her back, soothing her as she cried.
***
“Shhh Lis, we are home and safe lass,” he purred, gathering her closer to him. He rubbed her back as she cried; finally the woman showed her feminine side and let some of her built up emotion show, “You were incredible Lis, simply incredible. I owe you my life once again, in fact, I think you saved my life several times tonight love.” He admitted in earnest.
Holding her tight, he felt her slim arms squeeze tighter as she sobbed. God he missed her, so many times tonight he thought he was going to watch her die. They had survived together, he had put his family’s life in her hands and she won the day.
“I missed you so much Broderick, so very much. I was so worried I would lose you tonight, so afraid I was not strong enough and would fail.” She murmured between tears.
Tilting up her chin, he looked into her green eyes and smiled, “and I missed you lass, words will never be able to properly convey how sorry I am about my homecoming and abhorrent accusations, but I will spend the rest of my life showing you how sorry I am, and how much I love and trust you.” Leaning down he kissed her soft mouth and felt her melt in his arms. God she tasted like heaven and honey.
***
Elisabeth heard him hiss when she pressed too hard against his chest, reminding her of the wound she had yet to properly inspect. Breaking the kiss she pulled back and ripped Broderick’s shirt back, “Oh sweet Jesu Broderick!” She exclaimed as her eyes scanned a deep slash that ran from his shoulder all the way to the opposite hip.
“Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?” Slipping out of his lap she ran over and gathered the tray of supplies Rhona had brought.
“I hadn’t had time to see it myself, we’ll have matching scars Lis,” He said, half amused as he ran his hand down beside the slash across his chest inspecting his mangled trunk, “I am more concerned about your wound my dear, your dress is soaked and I can see you favoring your side, dinnae think I forgot about the arrow I saw sticking out of yer side.”
Rolling her eyes, she felt the stab of pain she had been ignoring since she was shot. He was correct, she had bled profusely, and the blasted arrow had lodged itself in her lowest rib, pulling it out had been a chore. Yet, she knew it had not penetrated her enough to cause damage. The wound would heal easily. Her rib would be sore for a while, but it was nothing that would kill her.
“Why weren’t you wearing your chainmail Lis?” He looked up from his chest as knelt before him preparing the needle and thread.
Dunking the clean linen clothes in the hot water, she looked up at her husband’s green eyes, “I was worried it would hinder my movement and speed,” she admitted, ringing out the cloth. Leaning towards him, she gently grabbed his bracers and unlaced them so she could work on his chest. Setting them down, she unraveled his blood soaked tartan and sat it beside them as she stood up and eyed the slashed shirt he wore. In one smooth movement, she ripped it from his broad chest with both hands.
Tossing the ruined shirt in the blazing fire she reached down and picked up the cloth, gently cleaning his chest of blood. Attempting to change the subject, she remembered they had yet to talk of his meeting with the King, “How is my cousin, the King?” She asked as she set to work.
“I think he genuinely wanted to see you, he seemed very protective of you and wanted to gauge your feelings on our marriage. I gave him the letter within minutes of seeing him, it lessened his irritation considerably to know you were in love with me,” he smiled, “He approves of your choice.”
“Of course he does, you were always their first choice.” She murmured, grinning.
Reaching out, Broderick gently captured her chin and tilted her head up so she would look at him; “Explain.” He purred as he rubbed his thumb across her jaw.
“Because of my ties to the Crown, Richard wanted to be assured that the man I married was worthy in the event I was crowned Queen of England. For years he and my father pushed for me to marry men of their choosing, you had always been their first choice. Even Duncan agreed, yet I refused to even consider you or any man.”
“Duncan approved of me?”
Tilting her head she smiled and kissed his hand and picked up the needle, “Aye Broderick, your rift with my brother caused great turmoil between you two, of that there is no doubt. However, Duncan looked up to you, you were the man he measured all other warriors against. He wanted to see me wed to you, he knew you to be honorable and steadfast. He told me you wouldn’t try to change me, or ever hurt me.” Sighing, she warned, “Please hold still, this will take all night to close my love.” Setting needle to mangled skin, she started to slowly close his wound.
“I don’t understand, the King and your father, nor Duncan never said anything over the years.”
“After a extremely harsh discussion with King Richard as well as my father and brother, I threw a fit and wagered against my cousin and my father, a wager you know that I won. They never said anything to the men they had suggested for me, for I think they knew it was hopeless.” She smiled as she stitched his chest closed; she had started high on his shoulder.
“In the end, you married me.” He responded, quickly sucking in his breath as she hit a tender spot.
Leaning over, she kissed his bruised jaw, “I married you because I love you, not because a King told me to, I think I’m the one person in the world who has told King Richard to buggar off, and still keep my head.” She winked and continued to sew. The wound he had was considerably longer, yet not as deep as hers had been. It crossed from his left shoulder all the way to his right hip.
“Ye will need to show me yer arm and rib wife, I would like to see the damage myself before we go to sleep tonight.”
She felt him run his strong hand down her sword arm, moving it across her injured rib. “Of course, I cannae wait to be out of this bloody gown, Rhona will be sad I ruined it. She worked so hard on it.” She mused as she worked over his chest and across his muscular stomach, taking a moment to look at her tattered gown.
“Feel free to take yer clothes off at any time wife, I’m sure ye can work bet
ter naked.” Chuckling he leaned back and extended his long legs out the best he could so she could work faster.
“Hush, let me finish putting you back together, you sit back and rest your eyes,” she hissed, playfully swatting at him as she continued to work. She had seen fatigue in his face, she knew he was exhausted. He had just returned home from Inverness to become captured by Kincaid, held prisoner for the night and fought a battle. The man needed sleep; she could feel him swaying in his saddle upon their ride back home. Although he refused to admit it, the man had taken a tremendous hit upon his broad chest, he hadn’t slept in God knows when, and he had been bleeding for hours.
Stitch after stitch she worked her way down, finally surrounded by quiet, she was able to reflect on everything that had happened in the last day. Today she realized she carried Broderick’s babe in her stomach, her husband had returned only to accuse her and Kendrix of unspeakable misdeeds. Next she witnessed the MacMillan brothers fighting nose to nose, she had never observed such tension and palpable fury in her life. She had yet to find out how Kincaid was able to capture the three of them so easily, it had all happened so very quickly.
The reality that Kincaid was finally dead swirled in her head, he was dead. She thought over her vow to her family, and the promise she made to Broderick tonight. She would honor her word and forfeit her swords to him, he allowed her to kill Ivan, and in doing so she would gladly turn her sword over.
Underneath her hands she felt her husband’s breathing fall into steady cadence, looking up at his face she saw his head resting upon the chair back, his eyes closed, finally asleep.
Whispering, “Sweet Jesu you had to be tired to fall asleep while I sew ye closed, sleep my love.” Smiling at his peaceful face.
Broderick had been remarkable tonight, it was the first time she witnessed her husband in battle, she had never been prouder of the man before her in all her life. He trusted her, he allowed her to make the calls, he had shown her his support in the moment she had needed him most.
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