Brodie turned around, got down on one knee and asked, “Orla, will you marry me?”
“No!” she said.
Brodie stood and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Orla, the best protection is for us to marry and for it to be legally binding. That way I can be with you wherever you go in the Castle because I am your husband.”
Orla thought about what he said. It would make sense to have his protection. But what happened once the threat disappeared. What then?
“Brodie dinnae sacrifice your freedom to keep me safe?”
“Tis no sacrifice.”
“Will this be a marriage in name only?” Orla asked.
“Absolutely not,” Brodie grimaced. “I intend to bed you as often as I can.”
Orla just blushed.
“But what of children, Brodie? What happens if we go our separate ways after the risk is over?”
“I will acknowledge any bairn that results from our union, no matter what happens.”
Orla did not want to bring children into such a loveless marriage.
“No, if we do this, I will ask Amie to give me herbs that can prevent your seed from taking root. Not that I am even contemplating marrying you yet,” Orla said.
Brodie stiffened at the thought. “Are you against carrying my bairns?”
“No, I am not.”
“Then there will be no herbs. We will just… be careful when we couple.”
“I feel tis not a good idea to rush these things.”
“I can protect you, Orla, tis the only way.”
“But we are talking about marriage, Brodie and vows before God. Will you be able to keep those vows?”
“Aye.”
Orla looked skeptical. “And what happens when a prettier woman comes along and she turns your head, what then?”
“There is no woman prettier than you, Orla.”
It would seem Brodie had an answer for everything.
“Mayhap I should just marry Dalziel, if this is for protection it shouldn’t matter if it’s him or you.”
“It does matter because I will kill Dalziel, then you will be a widow and have to marry me anyway,” Brodie growled.
“Your sanity concerns me sometimes, Brodie.”
Despite her misgivings, Orla could see the merit of his idea. There was no telling what the Royal court could decide regarding her welfare. Macbeth could easily marry her off to a stranger if it benefitted a cause. But could she marry Brodie, knowing he would never love her?
“Come Orla, everyone is waiting, trust me.” He placed an arm around her shoulder.
Orla was going to concede but thought about the rowan tree and all the women Brodie had been with over the years and how that shattered her heart each time.
In horror, Orla realized she still loved Brodie. There was no way she could marry him and remain detached. It would only lead to heartbreak. Especially knowing he would never love her in return.
It was as if the rowan tree gave up its wisdom and warning and Orla would heed it.
She pulled away from him. “I cannot marry you, Brodie, no matter what the future holds. I dinnae want to, it feels wrong.”
Orla knew this because she wanted something more from a union with a man. She wanted love and fidelity and they were things Brodie could never give her. At some point he would get bored and he would move on to the next conquest. She would be alone again, mourning the loss of her old friend.
Protection was not a strong enough reason to marry.
It was Brodie’s turn to tense at her words. Was she rejecting him? After everything he had done, she was throwing it back in his face. He felt so dejected. He got angry.
Brodie got in her face. “Mo leannan, we must do this. Why are you making this difficult?”
“Answer this question Brodie, why do you want to marry me?” Orla asked.
“To protect you lass, I need to ken you’re safe and this is the only way to do it.” He was now pacing the room.
“So, there is no other reason that compels you to marry me?”
Brodie stopped pacing and held her hands. “None stronger than the need to protect you.”
Orla lowered her head and stared at the ground. Brodie’s words confirmed the rightness of her decision. He felt nothing for her beyond protective instincts. He had no idea how much she had pined over the years.
She doubted he even remembered anything from when they were children. Her future be damned. She would not let Brodie sacrifice his freedom for her. They would only end up fighting and bickering.
Orla pulled her hands free. “I cannot marry you for those reasons alone. I am sorry Brodie, but tis just not in me to bind myself to you like this.”
Brodie clenched his jaw and stiffened at her words. “That’s it then? No?”
“My answer is no.”
Brodie only saw panic and anger melding as one. He did not realize how much he had been looking forward to binding Orla to him. His disappointment was replaced with anger.
“Is there someone else?”
“When would I have the time to be with someone, Brodie?”
“Let me see, in the woods today when your lips were stuck to that blonde sponge cake.”
“Twas just a kiss, Brodie.”
“Is it just me you dinnae want then?”
“Brodie, I dinnae want to marry anyone who only feels the need to protect me.”
“Then I am sorry my offer was so disgusting to you, Orla. I shall withdraw it and you’ll not hear it from me again.” Brodies face shuttered, and he became distant.
“Brodie, I didn’t mean—”
“I’ll arrange to have someone else guard you tonight.” Brodie stormed out of the room and slammed the door.
Orla felt the wet hit her cheek as she watched him leave. She felt bereft all over again. But she staunched the bleeding of her heart and told herself it was for the best. Better now than later when she became more attached.
***
Rejected
Brodie was livid. He had just poured his heart and soul out to the woman and she rejected him. At the risk of her own life. If only he had kept his distance earlier, it would have saved him the trouble. What had his worthless father said to him all those years ago? Never give your heart to a woman, she will tear your balls asunder. Well, hello ripped balls.
Brodie arranged two guardsmen to see to Orla, then he went down to the chapel to notify the others that the wedding was cancelled.
He did not expect an inquisition.
“What did you do, Brodie?” Dalziel asked.
“I didn’t do anything!”
“You must have said something to upset her?” Beiste said.
“I am telling you she didn’t want to marry me, she rejected me.”
“What did she say precisely?” Jonet asked.
“She asked me why I wanted to marry her, and I told her it was for her protection.”
“And then?” Amelia asked.
“And then what?”
“Well, what other reason did you give her?” Amelia asked.
“Nothing, I just said, to protect her.”
“Och, you daft fool.” Morag piped in and smacked the top of his head.
“What did I do wrong?”
“Well, you make it sound like it’s a chore to marry her,” Sorcha said.
“I didn’t mean it that way, I want to marry her with all my heart,” Brodie said. Then looked surprised at his own revelation.
“Then perhaps son, you should have told her that,” Abbot Hendry said.
Brodie cursed when he remembered her words. ‘I dinnae want to marry anyone who only feels the need to protect me.’ They made sense now.
“Blast it! I’ll be back,” he said to the others and stormed out of the chapel. He needed to see Orla.
Brodie had just made it half-way across the Great Hall when the Village bells started ringing. Two rings, a pause, then one ring and a pause.
Brodie’s entire body tensed because the signal m
eant one thing, Raiders!
Brodie changed direction, heading towards the armory and almost ran straight into Morag.
She reached out and grabbed his arm in a death grip.
“Please move Morag, I dinnae have time!”
But he stilled when she spoke in an eerie voice. “Tis trickery, Brodie. The danger is in here.”
Heeding her words, he ran towards his bed chamber, sword drawn, only to find it empty. He cursed again.
Brodie wondered where Orla had gone, and he was angry that there were no guards at her door. He hoped like hell they were with her because he needed to organize the men and get to the Village.
He grabbed his battle axe off the wall and flew downstairs to the Bailey, where Dalziel and Beiste gathered with several hundred retainers.
Brodie told them of Morag’s warning. They sent two-thirds of the men into the Village and woods with Dalziel and Beiste, while Brodie remained in the Keep with a large contingent of men. He had orders to search the entire Keep for Orla and for any threat within the Keep.
***
For Whom the Bells Toll
Orla had locked the door after Brodie left and was sitting on the window nook staring out into the Bailey. She felt despondent and maudlin. Why did she have to suffer unrequited love? It would be so easy just to give in and shackle herself to Brodie, but they would end up unhappy.
She stared out into the night and wondered about her parents. She wondered what type of people they were and worried about what awaited her at Dunsinane.
She was about to return to her bed when she saw a flash of light coming from the woods. She caught a responding flash coming from somewhere in the Keep.
She sat up. Whoever was out there in the forest, they were signaling someone inside. She blew out her candle and leant further out the window to locate the signal. It was coming from the second floor of the guest wing.
Orla jumped up from the nook, quickly donned a pair of trews and tunic and wore a dark hooded cloak. She put her boots on and placed a dirk inside one of them and she grabbed a dagger which sheathed in a scabbard on her belt.
She opened the door and was surprised to find no one outside it. Not wanting to miss her opportunity, she ran across the landing and made her way down the stairs to the second floor.
Torstein and his men had quarters below and there was supposed to be guards patrolling the floor. But when Orla arrived, she found all the lights out and two guardsmen slumped on the ground unconscious. Drugged. She bent down and checked their pulse. They were breathing. Orla unsheathed her dagger and clutched it in her hand.
She checked the first three rooms and saw Torstein, Njal and Mathias fast asleep. She wondered if they had been drugged as well. She was moving towards the last door when she heard it click. Orla stepped into the shadows and stood with her back flat against the wall.
She saw a figure slinking past in the dark. It was Aksel. He was moving down the stairs. He had not spotted her.
Against her better judgement, Orla followed him.
She had just made it to the first floor when the Village bells started ringing. Orla looked out the window when something hard hit the back of her head. Then everything went black.
***
Cold Damp
Orla opened her eyes and winced in the dark. She tried to get her bearings despite the pounding in her head. Her hands were bound in front of her and she was sitting on the cold, damp stone floor. She shuddered with the memory of the last time she found herself on a cold, damp floor. She instinctively knew they were still in the Keep.
Her dagger was missing, but she could still feel the dirk hidden in her shoe.
“Lass ye made it so easy for me. Wandering aboot in the dark… alone, I didn’t have to find ye.”
Orla saw Aksel standing in the doorway.
“Whatever you mean to do, you willna get away with it,” she said.
“Och, but I already have.” He moved closer.
Orla felt a ripple of fear.
“Everyone who can protect you is in the village searching for invaders. But the raider is here in the Keep.” He chortled.
“You arranged the ringing of the bells?” Orla said.
“Aye, twas easy. I paid a lad some coin and sent a signal to tell him when.”
“What do you want with me?”
“I’m gan to kill you, but first I want to ken whit it’s like to poke a Jarl’s dattar while she screams.” He leered at her and raked his eyes over her chest.
Orla stiffened.
“Mayhap if I enjoy it, ah’ll keep ye as me thrall.” Aksel was standing over her now and rubbing his crotch.
“That’s your plan?” Orla scoffed.
“Aye, whits wrong wid it.” He scowled.
Orla burst out laughing.
Maybe it was hysteria or the flashbacks she had, being confined in a dark room. Her laugh sounded like a witch’s cackle and she could not stop.
Aksel backhanded her across the face. “Cease or I will kill ye now!” he seethed.
Orla kept giggling. She pulled her knees up against her chest and leant her head forward, chuckling and rocking back and forth.
Her hands moved fast towards her boot, she slid her fingers inside and gripped the handle of her dirk.
“I said stop laughing!” Aksel hissed. He pulled Orla to her feet. His focus on her face and the need to wipe the smirk off it.
He had failed to notice that Orla now held a dirk in her hands. The blade tucked inwards against her bound wrists so he could not see.
Aksel stared at her, evil gleaming in his eyes. “I’ve change me mind. I’m gan kill ye now and then rut ye.”
He pushed her up against the wall. Gripped her neck with his right hand and choked her. Then he raised his left arm, curled his hand into a tight fist and aimed it at her face.
Orla remained calm as the world moved in slow motion. She kept her eyes on Aksel’s left shoulder. As soon as it flinched, she swung her arms out to the side; the dirk gripped tightly in her bound hands. She twirled the blade away from her wrists and plunged it deep into the side of his rib cage. She pulled it out and gave him two more quick jabs to his side.
Aksel dropped his right arm and let go of her neck. Both hands went to his ribs as he staggered backwards and struggled to breathe. She had punctured his lung.
Aksel looked down at the blood pouring from his side, and shock registered on his face. Then he glared at her with pure rage.
Orla knew men like Aksel even severely injured could be lethal.
She remembered feeling helpless when Ranalf groped her and beat her into unconsciousness. No one would do that to her again.
Without warning, Orla kicked Aksel hard in the groin. He buckled in pain and fell to his knees.
She bent down and whispered in his ear, “You said everyone who can protect me is in the village. But you forgot one person.” —Orla lifted her arms in the air and slammed the dirk down into the side of his neck. As the blood spurted onto her clothes she yelled— “Me!”
Then she removed the dirk and kicked him in the chest.
Aksel slumped to the floor, dead.
Breathing heavily and racked with exhaustion, Orla leaned back against the wall and slid down until her backside hit the floor. The dirk clattered to the ground beside her as she closed her eyes.
That was how Brodie found her moments later. Hands bound, covered in blood, and passed out on the floor.
***
Chapter 8 – You were Mine
There comes a time in every man’s life when he has an epiphany. Orla was Brodie’s revelation. When he stormed into the room and saw her covered in blood and passed out on the stone floor, he roared in anguish thinking she was dead.
As he bent down to pick her up, he felt as if his heart was breaking.
But when she opened her eyes and said, “Brodie, will you stop bellowing, you’re giving me a headache.” He pulled her into his arms and… wept.
In front of Rory and Lachla
n. And he did not care one bit.
An hour later, the rest of the MacGregors had returned to the Keep after the false alarm and security was heightened. The young lad who had helped Aksel confessed that he was told he was helping the Clan by ringing the bell.
It was discovered that Aksel had drugged several guards, including Torstein, Njal and Mathias. Brodie had reprimanded the guardsmen for drinking during their shift.
The Keep eventually settled again as people sought their beds. The panic and excitement, over for another day.
Dalziel postponed the trip to Dunsinane, to give Brodie and Orla the opportunity to wed and the retainers a day’s rest.
Brodie had yet to inform Orla of his wedding plans because he was busy helping her bathe and get ready for bed. She was too exhausted to argue.
It was just past midnight, and Orla was fast asleep in their bed. Brodie pulled her towards him, tucked her into his side and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her forehead and whispered the words he should have spoken to her when he asked her to marry him. “I love you, Orla.”
***
Love is a Battlefield
The next morning the Keep awoke to a war zone. The combatants were one reluctant bride-to-be and her kinswomen, and one overbearing bride-groom-to-be and his kinsmen.
“Orla open this door right now or I’ll kick it down,” Brodie yelled.
“Do it. I hope you break a leg!” Orla shouted in return.
“We are getting married today, and that’s final.” Brodie roared.
“I am not marrying you today or any day,” she screamed.
Things had deteriorated between the couple since Orla had come down to the Great Hall for breakfast and heard Brodie announce that everyone was invited to their wedding.
It was the first Orla had heard of it. That lead to a screaming match on the dais which led to fruit and custard tarts being hurled from one side of the table to the other.
The altercation had ended with Orla, Amelia, and Iona locking themselves in Amelia’s solar. While Brodie, Beiste (carrying baby Colban) and Dalziel threatened all kinds of retribution if they did not come out.
As with all highly emotional family disputes, members had taken sides, and a gridlock was being negotiated by a three, year old girl.
“Uncle Brodie,” Iona yelled. Interrupting the battle between Orla and Brodie.
Handfasted to the Bear: Reformed Rogues Book 2 Page 7