Even if he had to track the offenders down himself.
Katherine was her normally composed self. Most of the scratches he had seen that evening now faded on her face. Cameron had a large gash on his cheek, and Will knew that he had suffered a burn on his arm from throwing himself over his wife when the barrel exploded, but all in all, they were lucky to have survived.
Two lairds of the neighboring clans had perished as well as hundreds of warriors. There were unclaimed bodies that had been left behind, and Will suspected they might have been behind the attacks, though he couldn’t prove it. There were no prisoners, only the heavy threat of war hanging over everyone’s heads. It might take months to fester, but some clans blamed the McDougal clan for the attack, stating that they had set them up to die.
Of course, the people of the McDougal clan knew differently, including him. There had been no ulterior motive for this gathering other than to drive peace between the clans.
Now it seemed peace would not come for years.
“And ye think ’tis yer fault?” Cameron repeated.
Will drew in a breath, having just given his account of what happened that night. “I saw the barrels that ignited the fires” he stated, acid burning the back of his throat as he remembered inspecting one with one of his warriors. “But I was in a hurry and didnae do any thorough inspection. I...I thought it was ale.”
Cameron looked at his wife, who was watching Will with no expression on her face. “Wot makes ye think that we would hold ye accountable for this?” she finally asked, pain etched in her voice. “It wasnae yer idea tae have these games. It was mine, and when I made that decision, I knew the risks.”
“I should have been better prepared,” Will forced out, the hollow ache in his soul growing steadily by the minute. “I should have looked at all options and that night, I shouldn’t have been distracted.” He had been distracted in more ways than one, but one way he didn’t even want to think about right now.
Cameron sighed and leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping on the armrest. “Ye have been a great warrior. If we didnae believe that ye always had our best interests and that of the clan’s in mind, we wouldnae have put ye in this position.”
“And I failed ye,” he said softly, clenching his hands together. “I failed mah laird and the clan.” Surely, they could see that.
“Ye didnae fail us,” Katherine responded. “So get that out of yer mind. Do ye not see wot ye did that night? Ye saved countless lives by having the warriors present. Ye saved mah life by having the warrior escort me here. He cut down three attackers, Will—three—before we could get tae the keep. If I had gone on mah own...”
Cameron reached over, grasping her hand in his.
Will hadn’t known what Katherine had gone through that night. His heart lurched as he thought about her fear, how she must have been frightened at the turn of events.
“I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “Quit, Will. There is nothing tae be sorry aboot. Ye saved me. Ye saved Cameron, and Trevor, and all of those that were at the keep. Ye protected us, gave us everything we needed tae survive, and for that, I should be thanking ye. This clan should be thanking ye.”
Emotion clogged Will’s throat as he heard her declaration.
They dinnae see me as a failure. They dinnae blame me for the attack.
They are bloody thanking me.
“Now,” she stated, clearing her throat, “there’s something else we need tae discuss.”
The couple exchanged glances, and Will steeled himself against whatever may come next. Perhaps she was saying those things so that the truth would come next. Whatever it was, he was ready for it.
“The matter of Breta McLeish.”
No, he wasn’t ready for that.
“Wot?” he asked.
Katherine pursed her lips. “Dinnae play coy, Will. We know how ye feel aboot her.”
Will looked at the two people that he had sworn to protect. “Are ye meddling in mah personal affairs?”
“As yer friends,” Cameron added, “we feel the need tae broach this subject that ye have been avoiding. Do ye love her or not?”
It was a question he had asked himself repeatedly since he had left that chamber, Breta’s words echoing in his thoughts. She had given him an ultimatum, and if he didn’t agree to her demands, he would lose her forever.
“I dinnae know.”
Katherine arched a brow. “Either ye do or ye dinnae, Will. ’Tis that simple.”
“’Tis not hard tae admit,” Cameron said, squeezing his wife’s hand lightly. “Even a warrior knows when he is beat.”
“I cannae give up this life,” Will said desperately, trying to make them understand. He had dreamed of being a warrior for years and now that he was second in command, he was married to protecting them. There was nothing else.
“Did she ask ye tae do so?” Cameron asked lightly. “I dinnae remember hearing her ask ye tae give up anything.”
Breta hadn’t asked him to do so. All she had asked him to do was find it in his heart to love her—the woman who had nearly died because of him. The woman who had fought him at every turn, begging him to just love her.
“Nay,” he croaked out. “She didnae.”
The couple exchanged looks. “Well, then,” Katherine stated. “It seems that yet another warrior has jumped to a conclusion that is unjustified.”
“Och, lass, ye wound me,” Cameron joked, holding his hand up to his heart. “We are a confused lot.”
They shared in a chuckle together, but Will wasn’t listening to them. For the first time, he was listening to his heart, and it was telling him he had made an error in judgment. “I can still be yer second-in-command?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Of course,” Katherine said, smiling. “And perhaps ye will be a lot less...err...serious with a woman in yer life.”
Will attempted to process this new information. He always thought he would have to choose between the duty he loved and the woman he loved, but now they were telling him that he didn’t.
I am a fool...an utter fool.
“Where are ye going?” Katherine called out as Will started toward the stairs. “She’s not there.”
Will paused and turned back. “Where is she?” he asked, his heart beating rapidly against his chest.
“She’s on her way home,” Cameron supplied, “but there is a horse saddled and waiting for ye if ye would like tae go after her.”
Will arched a brow. “Ye knew?”
He nodded, a grin on his face. “I know wot a man in love looks like. Go get yer lass, Will.”
Will chose not to respond to him as he strode out of the keep and found the horse waiting in the courtyard as Cameron had promised. Swinging into the saddle, he raced out of the courtyard and down the road that the caravan would likely have taken. Breta had warned him that if she reached the border of the McDougal land, he would lose his chance.
He had to stop her before she got there.
The horse raced along the road for more than an hour, and with each mile he covered, Will could only pray that he wasn’t too late. If he lost Breta now, it would hurt more than if Cameron had removed him from his position.
He had been a fool to think that he could live without her. This was far more than her saving his life. He loved Breta.
Finally, Will spied the caravan ahead of him and forced the tired horse to gallop faster, coming alongside the wagon.
“Stop!” he shouted, scaring the driver. “Stop!”
The driver pulled on the reins and the horses pulled to a stop just about the time that Laird McLeish rounded his horse, with warriors flanking each side.
“Wot’s the meaning of this?” he demanded, irritation on his face. “McDougal?”
“I need tae speak tae Breta,” he gasped, sliding off the horse. “I need tae see her.”
“Will?”
Will turned to find Breta in the wagon, her eyes wide. “Wot are ye doing?” she hissed, gripping the
side of the wagon.
He strode over to her, touching her hands with his. “I’ve come tae tell ye something, lass.”
Her eyes flashed hurt. “Havenae ye said enough?”
“Nay,” he replied, reaching up to cup her cheek. “I havena said near enough.”
“Well, get on with it, Scot,” she stated, though she didn’t move away from his touch. “Mah father is ready tae get on McLeish land.”
“I love ye,” he blurted out. “I’m sorry it took me so long tae say it, but everything I have said tae ye has been a lie up until now. Ye were right. I am a coward, a fool, and ye should hate me for wot I have put ye through.”
Her eyes widened, but Will wasn’t done. “I cannae change who I am,” he said. “But if ye will have me like this, I swear tae ye, Breta, ye will never regret it. I will love ye until mah dying breath.”
“Oh, Will,” Breta whispered, her eyes glistening with tears. “Are ye certain?”
He dropped his hand. “The more important question is that are ye certain ye can love a warrior?” Their life would be comfortable, but it wouldn’t be like the life she was used to. With this war potentially looming, Will would be spending much of his time training and recruiting those he had lost. He knew that if Breta was waiting for him at the end of every day, his life would vastly improve.
Her expression softened. “Of course I can.”
“Bloody hell,” her father responded as Will rounded the wagon, climbing in to reach her. “Not another one.”
Will slid next to Breta and laced her fingers with his, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “I’m vera sorry for wot I have put ye through, lass.”
She touched his cheek, her eyes full of love. “’Tis no worry. Ye will spend a lifetime making it up tae me.”
Despite the laird looking on, Will leaned in and brushed his lips over hers once, then twice, but not deepening the kiss out of respect.
“Marry me,” he told her.
Breta wound her arms around his neck, pressing her forehead to his. “Aye, I will marry ye, Will McDougal, second-in-command tae Laird McDougal and protector over the McDougal clan.”
Her words touched him in ways he never thought possible, but now he had to add a new title to the list.
He was the protector of her heart.
21
Two weeks later...
Breta smoothed her hands over the skirts of her dress as she stared into the mirror, listening to Ferra and Garia fuss over her hair. Today was her wedding day, and though it wasn’t on McLeish lands, she still knew it was going to be a special day.
After Will’s declaration and subsequent marriage proposal, her father had turned them around and made their way back to the McDougal keep, muttering the entire way. Breta had turned to her sister, who took her into their hut while her father went back to fetch the rest of their family. It had taken a week and during that time, Breta had come to learn more about her future husband. He repeatedly apologized for not being able to spend time with her during the day, and repeatedly she told him that she would expect nothing different. She wanted him to continue to do what he loved.
But the evenings were theirs. Though Garia didn’t let them be alone very often, there were snatches of time where he had kissed her breathless, making her ache for his touch whenever he was gone.
Now, after the ceremony, they would be husband and wife, and nothing would stand in their way of being together.
“Och, I think ye are prettier than I was.”
Breta turned to her sisters. “Nay, I cannae live up tae yer wedding day.”
Garia eyed her dress and hair, half braided so that long curls could drape over her shoulder. They had tucked sprigs of thistle in her hair for luck and she was wearing her mother’s necklace that she had worn on her wedding day long ago.
“I didnae know, little sister,” Garia finally said, tears in her eyes. “Ye are looking quite lovely.”
Ferra glanced over to her sister, frowning. “Why are ye crying?”
“Because she’s increasing again,” their mother announced, clasping her hands to her chest. “Ye look lovely, Breta.”
But they were all staring at Garia, who had a horrified look on her face.
“Nay,” she whispered, touching her stomach. “Not again.”
“’Tis wot happens when ye are always in bed,” their mother stated. “Garia, ye have tae start taking herbs.”
Breta watched as her sister swallowed the information she was just given, wondering what it would be like to be in bed with Will this evening. Her mother and sister had already given her the marriage talk, but her heart fluttered at the thought of finally being with Will, naked. They would see all of each other.
It was a long time in the making.
“Come,” her mother said, clasping Breta’s shoulders in her hands. “’Tis time for ye tae wed, mah daughter, and I cannae tell ye how happy I am for this day.”
Breta smiled. “I am happy as well, Mam.”
She nodded, tears in her eyes. “I know ye are, lass. And I know Will is as well.”
Breta’s smile grew wider as she thought about her soon-to-be husband and how proud she was of him. He was going to make her happy. She was certain of it.
“Well now,” Garia announced, having recovered from her initial shock, “let’s get ye married.”
Breta waited for them to fuss with their own dresses before her mother opened the door and her father was standing there, looking handsome in his ceremonial kilt.
“Lovely,” he told her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
Breta accepted his arm, and he escorted her down the stairs to the great hall, giving her the first glimpse of the decorations they had hidden from her, along with the clans that were in attendance. Even with the threat of war looming over their heads, some of the McLeish clan had made the journey to the wedding to lend their support, having two of their daughters now wed to two members of the McDougal clan.
But Breta only had eyes for the tall warrior that stood before the elder clansman that would wed them, only the faintest twitch of his jaw belying his cool demeanor. When he turned, she gave him a small smile, her nerves attempting to get the best of her. Will’s eyes roved over her dress, up to her face, and she could see the love reflected in them. Her skin heated as his lips lifted in a slow smile; she wished that it were just the two of them now.
Her father delivered her to the spot next to Will. She drew in a breath as he clasped her hand, feeling his touch clear through to her very soul.
“Ready?” he asked softly, squeezing her fingers.
“Aye,” she responded, giving his hand a squeeze.
“Nay”, the clansman stated, his face wreathed with a smile. “’Tis not time, lass. Give me a few moments.”
The clan laughed around them as Breta’s cheeks flushed, Will chuckling at the statement. This moment couldn’t come fast enough, in her opinion.
When it came time for them to exchange their vows, Breta was surprised when Will removed his sword from the scabbard at his waist, kneeling before her with it in his hands.
“I vow ye the first cut of my meat, the first sip of my wine. From this day it shall only be yer name I cry out in the night and into yer eyes that I smile each morning.” His voice was strong and full of emotion that Breta couldn’t decipher. “I shall be a shield for yer back as you are for mine, nor shall a grievous word be spoken about us, for our marriage is sacred between us and no stranger shall hear my grievance. Above and beyond this, I will cherish and honor ye through this life and into the next.”
It was a warrior’s vow, and Breta’s breath caught as she picked up his sword, holding it aloft in her hand. A warrior’s sword was just as much a part of the warrior as the rest of him was, and to give it to his wife meant that he was willing to share in everything that made him who he was.
Breta would take him all. She wanted every part of Will—the parts that made her wish to skewer him with his own sword, and the ones that she would inf
use with her love. She wanted every scar, every gruff moment that he would give her.
She wanted to be his partner, the person he came to whenever his day wasn’t going as well as he wished it to be.
Most of all, he would be her rock.
It was hours before they were able to sneak up the stairs to the set of rooms that had been gifted by the laird to the new couple, for as long as they wished to stay. While she knew that her husband was comfortable in the warrior’s barracks, it wasn’t a place to start out their new lives together. Will had relented, accepting the gift for now.
“I thought they would never quit paying attention tae us,” Will muttered as he pushed open the door to his chamber, allowing Breta to walk in. They had dined and danced, taking more toasts than Breta could count, and now the ale warmed her body.
Or maybe it was because she was about to be alone with her husband. Either way, she wasn’t likely to feel the chill in the air this evening.
Will shut the door behind them and slid the bolt in place, giving her a wry smile.
“In case someone wishes tae disturb us.” He unfastened his belt and placed it on the dresser. “Have a look around.”
Breta didn’t need to at this moment. There would be plenty of time for that later.
“Will...I dinnae wish tae do anything right now but get intae that bed with ye.”
His mouth dropped open. “Och, lass, ye are killing me.”
“Good,” she said, walking toward him, already starting to work on the laces of her dress. “I’ve waited long enough.”
He groaned and met her halfway, his hands cupping her face and after a look, covered her lips with his. Breta groaned herself as she tasted the whiskey on his lips, her hands pushing at the tunic so that she could touch his bare chest. Will tore his mouth from hers and grabbed at her hands, his breathing heavy.
“Love, we need tae take it slowly.”
Breta looked at him. “I dinnae wish tae, Will. Do ye know how long I’ve waited for ye? I cannae wait any longer.”
He groaned and allowed her to pull the tunic over his head, his hands working at the bodice of her dress. Breta slid the dress down her body and stepped out of it, clad in only her shift. She should be nervous about this, but her need overwrote any nervousness she had. She wanted to feel Will.
Highlander’s Phantom Lass: A Steamy Scottish Medieval Historical Romance Page 13