by Caroline Lee
Merrick grunted in question as he pushed himself to his haunches.
“I…” Gavin closed his eyes. “I didnae kill Lindsay, and I’m afraid I’m no’ going to be much use to ye.”
Whatever Merrick might’ve said was lost in a flood of curses as he forced himself to his feet, then stumbled into the wall to hold on until the cell quit spinning.
His friend chuckled dryly. “We’re going to die today. I hope ye ken that.”
Merrick squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for the world to slow its frantic tilting. “Nay,” he croaked. “We will no’. And do ye ken why?”
The other man merely grunted.
“Because…” Merrick forced his eyes open, allowing himself to focus on the crude carving directly in front of his face as he braced himself against the cell wall. “Because Saf is up there somewhere, and my bastard of a brother kens I love her. I cannae let him hurt her.”
It was an easy vow to make, but Merrick had no idea how he’d see it through. He knew for a fact the heavy oak door was barred from the outside, and save for the impossibly high window, there was no other way out…especially not when he felt like this.
But the thought of Saf alone and relying on him sent a surge of strength through him. He pushed away from the stonework, pleased to realize his head had stopped spinning. He forced his eyes to focus on the carvings under his palms, knowing if he could get his brain to cooperate enough to understand the graffiti, he’d be able to think of a way out of this mess.
Graffiti.
His lips twitched.
Saf had been the last person locked in this cell, and she’d sat around and corrected the spelling of the carvings. Here and there, Merrick recognized his grand-uncle’s colorful curses, and the more recent carvings atop, pointing out the misspellings.
Even in her darkest hour, Saf hadn’t given up. And he wasn’t going to give up on her.
“Her, eh?” Gavin’s breath didn’t rattle quite so much when he inhaled. “Ye love her?”
Merrick dragged his dry tongue across his lips and pushed himself away from the wall. “Aye,” he said to himself. Then again, stronger: “Aye, I love her. I love her the way I loved Anna. I didnae think to find that again.”
“But now that ye have?”
Merrick’s palm pressed against the one carved design Saf’s corrections hadn’t touched, a strange sunburst with a Latin phrase. She hadn’t deemed this one worthy of correcting? Or was the spelling fine? Had it been carved by another hand?
His lips felt as if they were cracking. “I’ll be marrying her. She’s one of the Sinclair Jewels, and her father has already proven willing to align with me.”
Gavin whispered an impressed curse under his breath.
“Aye.” Merrick grunted as an idea came to him, and he jammed the tips of his fingers into the cracks in the mortar around the sunburst. “’Tis possible she’s already carrying my bairn, and this one will be my heir.”
“Assuming ye live that long.”
The stone pulled away surprisingly easy and without a sound. Frowning, Merrick slid his hand into the opening and wrapped his fingers around a leather sack.
“I’ll live,” he murmured distractedly as he turned toward the light coming in from the small window. “And what’s more, I forbid ye from dying until ye redeem yer sorry arse.” He paused in his attempts to untie the pouch to throw a glare at his friend. “And that’s the Sutherland Devil telling ye that.”
Gavin’s lips curved, although his eyes stayed closed and his head back. “Aye, Laird,” he drawled. “We’ll give that bastard hell.”
“Aye, we will. But first…”
Merrick sucked in a breath as he finally got the pouch opened and poured out its contents into his palm. Sparkling up at him was the largest sapphire he’d ever seen, almost the size of his palm, and cut in so many facets it caught and amplified even the weak light.
One of the Sinclair jewels.
Saf had been right.
He felt a lightness bubble up from his chest. It was…hope? Aye, a surety that, with this find, he’d be able to give her what she wanted. He just needed to save her first.
Resolved, he hurried to wrap the stone back up and shoved it back into its hiding spot. When he stooped to recover the brick, he was glad the world didn’t tilt. Nay, he was as recovered as he’d get, and he’d save Saf.
“What is that?” came Gavin’s croak as Merrick pushed the brick back into place.
He turned, and was pleased to see his friend looking more alert, although his left eye looked as if it’d never recover.
“’Tisnae important, Gav. But do ye ken why in all creation the Lewes MacLeod crest would be carved in my dungeon?”
Gavin snorted. “Nay,” he rasped. “’Twas it no’ yer uncle who spent so much time down here?”
Merrick had already moved toward the door and was examining it for weaknesses. “My father’s uncle,” he said in distraction as he ran his hands across the oak, hoping for something which would allow him an advantage. “And he wasnae a MacLeod. They were barely united then.”
Gavin didn’t reply, but Merrick had already pushed the mystery to the back of his mind. Restoring the jewels to the Sinclairs was Saf’s mission, and if he allowed her to come to harm, the sapphire’s location wouldn’t matter.
His head jerked around when he heard a noise he didn’t recognize from the other side of the door. A scrape, then a thump.
Was someone out there? Someone who was even now pulling the heavy drawbar down, intending to pull the door open?
A friend…or Lindsay?
Merrick motioned for Gavin to stay where he was, although the other man looked half-ready to push himself upright to defend him. Of the two, Merrick was in better shape, so he backed into the center of the cell, planted his weight, and raised his hands, ready to take what was coming.
He didn’t expect Saf.
When she pulled the door open wide, he didn’t think he’d ever seen a more beautiful sight. Her hair was wild, and a bruise was forming on one cheek, but her eyes were bright, and she burst into a smile when she saw him.
“Merrick!” she cried as she threw herself into the cell and his arms.
He did nothing more than wrap himself around her, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling deeply.
She was safe.
She was safe, and she’d come to rescue him.
“I love ye,” he croaked against her hair. “I love ye, Sapphire Sinclair, and I thought I’d die thinking ye in danger.”
Her grin, when she pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, was one of the prettiest things he’d ever seen. “I love ye, too, my Devil, and I kenned I’d couldnae let ye molder down here. Lindsay plans to kill ye today in front of the clan.”
“He’s welcome to try,” Merrick growled.
Now that he had Saf and a chance at freedom, Lindsay would not be standing in his way.
“Where is he?” Gavin asked.
When Saf whirled around, it was obvious from her expression she hadn’t noticed the other man slumped against the wall. Or if she had, she’d assumed he was unconscious. She shook her head slightly.
“He’s…he’s probably no’ dead.”
That’s when Merrick noticed the blood on the sleeve of her—his?—shirt. He lifted her wrist, the shirt falling away to reveal her mostly-healed wound from their last encounter with the Lindsays.
“Is this yer blood?”
She tugged her wrist out of his hand. “Nay, my love. ’Tis his. I remembered what ye taught me about bollocks and throats, but I donae think he is dead.”
At that moment, they both heard the commotion from outside the cell. It was Lindsay, cursing as he descended the stairs.
“Do ye have a blade now?” Merrick hissed to Saf.
She nodded and pulled out a small dirk from under the tail of her shirt. “Aye. ’Tis Maggie’s.”
Maggie, his wee warrior. Merrick nodded in approval, and in that moment, knew what had to be done.<
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“The door. Keep it open, love.” He planted a hard kiss on her lips and shoved her toward the opening to their cell. Then he turned to Gavin, who seemed more alert now. “Are ye prepared to redeem yerself, friend?”
Gavin, who’d known him since they were both bairns, understood. “Aye, Laird,” he croaked. “And I’ll die happy.”
“Nay, ye willnae die,” Merrick commanded, even as he tossed the sheathed dirk to his friend who sat on his arse to the left of the door.
Gavin rearranged himself so the blade was hidden, then slumped his chin down to his chest so he looked half-dead or asleep.
Just in time, too, because Lindsay barreled into the cell that moment. He was holding his breeches up with one hand, and the other was clasped to his shoulder, where blood was staining his shirt red.
“Where is she? Where is that bitch?”
Merrick thanked all the saints he’d fallen in love with a woman smart enough to hide in the shadows outside. Now, no matter what happened, he knew their exit was secured.
“She’s no’ here, Lindsay,” he growled.
His half-brother seemed crazed, panting as he peered into the corners of the cell, completely dismissing Gavin entirely. “She is. I planned to execute you before your clan, but first I’m going to slit that whore’s throat. She might already be carrying another one of your bastards, and I have to take care of that brat before I hunt down the rest of them.”
The man was standing here threatening his family? Did he not realize Merrick was unfettered?
With a growl, Merrick grabbed his half-brother by the throat and yanked him close until he could stare into the coward’s eyes. “Ye willnae face me in battle, but ye developed the bollocks to threaten my family?” He gave Lindsay a little shake for good measure. “There’s no warriors to hold me down here, ye bastard.”
Lindsay tried to suck in a breath—probably to berate Merrick—but his face was slowly turning purple. And the blood continued to flow from his wound as he weakly scrabbled at Merrick’s hold.
Vaguely, Merrick wondered if he could just stand here, waiting for his half-brother to run out of air. It seemed as if his wound was racing to be the thing which killed him, as well. A few more moments of this, and Lindsay would not be any more problem.
And Merrick would’ve killed another of his brothers.
The thought sent a shudder through him, and he loosened his hold on Lindsay’s throat.
God’s wounds, what had happened to him? He was the Sutherland Devil, known throughout the Highlands for his swift, decisive justice. He should snap Lindsay’s neck and be done with it.
But Saf…she’d been the one to teach him the merit in thinking before he struck. She’d been the one to stand in front of Andrew and Gavin, to urge Merrick to listen to their reasons.
Lindsay had no reasons Merrick could respect—not for rape and murder and betrayal. But still, Merrick hesitated, remembering the feel of Robbie’s blood on his hands.
His half-brother was gasping for air, so Merrick changed his hold on the man, yanking him closer once more. “Yer Lindsay family saw ye for what ye were, John. A weak coward who used cruelty to get what he wanted. That’s why yer laird uncle has no’ given ye any power, aye?”
Gathering what little moisture he could in his mouth, Merrick spat on the bastard. “Ye’ll never have the power ye crave. No’ at home. And ye’ll never be the Sutherland.”
Lindsay opened his mouth, but with impeccable timing, Gavin chose that moment to bellow “Without fear!” and launch himself at Lindsay, dirk bared.
When his friend slammed into them, Merrick stumbled to hold them upright, but needn’t have worried.
Gavin was grinning, his eye still grotesque in the dim light, when he straightened and pulled his blade from the base of Lindsay’s neck, where he’d sliced the bastard’s spine.
As Merrick let his half-brother’s body slowly sink to the floor, the two friends stared at one another.
Gavin had kept his vow. Despite his injuries, he seemed more alive now than even a few moments before, judging from the way his chest was heaving and he was grinning.
Merrick held out his hand, and his friend gripped his forearm.
“Thank ye.”
Thank ye for standing with me. For keeping me from killing another brother. For fulfilling yer vow.
Mayhap Gavin heard all that was unsaid, as he bowed his head in acknowledgement. “For Elana, Laird.”
“Aye.” Merrick glanced to the open door where Saf was just now peering in. “For love.”
Gavin nodded again, then stepped away, and glanced between the two of them, his lips quirked up on one side. “I’ll slip through the kitchens to the village, Merrick. With Lindsay gone, his men will be easy to pick off, I think. Give me an hour to rouse what men I can.”
“Half at the front gate, then, and bring the other half in through the kitchens. Corra will let them in.”
Saf slipped up beside him. “Corra is in one of the cellars with the bairns and Elana.”
“I’ll stop to alert them then,” Gavin said, wiping Maggie’s blade on his kilt. “And to thank yer daughter for the loan of her dirk. And to fetch Andrew.”
He raised the dagger in salute, then slipped out of the door.
Alone at last—although it was hard to ignore the body slumped at their feet—Merrick pulled Saf into his arms and buried his face against her neck, breathing in the perfect scent of her skin.
“I’m sorry, love. I’m sorry to put ye in this danger.” His lips nibbled at her skin. “I’m sorry ye had to see such horrors.”
She wriggled against him, tilting her head so he had better access.
“Saf, ye mean so much to me, and I want to spend the rest of our lives keeping ye safe and happy.”
“Ye cannae keep me safe and happy any more than I can do the same for ye. But mayhap we could work together to—Oh!” She moaned and slipped her arms around his waist. “If ye keep that up, Devil, we might have to start on the rest of our lives before Gavin’s reinforcements even arrive!”
Chuckling, Merrick straightened, not even bothering to adjust the bulge under his kilt. Aye, he loved this woman, and aye, there’d likely never be a moment he didn’t want to take her to bed. But now was not the time.
“Ye have to promise me, Saf, ye’ll be the voice of reason.”
“When?”
“Always. Ye’re smarter than me, I’m realizing. And I—and the Sutherlands—need yer wit and intelligence. Keep me straight, aye?”
Her palm came up to cup his cheek. “I love ye, Merrick. I’ll always be there to point out how inappropriate it might be to make love, even if we both want to, because of the body at our feet.” Her sapphire eyes bore into his. “And I’ll be there to urge ye to think before ye act, so ye donae have to be responsible for another brother’s death.”
It was like she could read his soul. She understood his hesitation when he was holding Lindsay’s life in his hands.
Aye, she was right; the time wasn’t right for lust. But still, he didn’t resist brushing his lips across hers, trying gently to show her what she meant to him.
“I love ye,” she sighed.
“And I love, ye.” His gaze flicked to the wall with the MacLeod crest. “And since we have a bit of time before Gavin will signal he’s ready, I have something to show ye.”
Her brows lifted as she followed him to the loose brick. “Aye? I saw this when I was stuck down here, ye ken, but didnae think to examine it.”
Merrick pulled free the stone with the carved sunburst and dropped it to the ground. He jerked his chin toward the hole. “Go on.”
They were both holding their breath as she removed the leather pouch and poured the sapphire into her hand. When she looked up at him, there were tears in her eyes, and a grin on her lips.
“This is it, Merrick,” she whispered. “The second missing stone!”
“Aye,” he agreed, gathering her and the stone in his arms. “My Sinclair Jewel.�
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Epilogue
“I’ll be pleased to finally have ye as a son, lad.” With a flourish, Saffy’s father pressed his seal into the warm wax at the bottom of the contract binding her and Merrick together. “Of course, I need to hear exactly how the two of ye came to be betrothed, what with Saffy supposedly staying at the abbey at Dornach all these weeks.”
When Da winked at Saffy, a twinkle in his eye, she knew he was teasing her. Moreover, she thought he might have some inkling of where she’d been. Not for the first time, she wondered if Da really did know about his daughter’s adventures, and was somehow guiding them.
Merrick cleared his throat as he stepped forward to affix his own seal. “I suspect ye and I have much to talk about,” he managed with a neutral expression, clearly not entirely at ease with the idea of telling her father she’d seduced him.
But Saffy decided nothing was going to ruin this moment for her, and her grin stretched wide across her face.
She was to be married!
Of course… She dropped her hand to rest on her abdomen. The way they’d been acting for more than a fortnight, the two of them might as well already be married. She’d stood beside him as they mourned the fallen Sutherlands, worked beside him to rebuild, and eaten at his right hand, helping to wrangle his unruly children. And she slept beside him as well…although they were doing a lot less sleeping than she’d expected.
And although it was still early, she suspected Merrick’s potent reputation had already proven true. He’d be a father again in the spring, and once they were married, this babe would be his heir.
Willie had returned from his fostering to help his father, and Saffy had laughed to see the similarities between the two of them. Although the lad was only a half-dozen years younger than her, he seemed so impetuous and hot-headed…and almost as handsome as his sire.
She and Mary had done their best to make Willie’s homecoming special, and he seemed to fit in with the rest of Merrick’s brood. Saffy smiled, remembering her love’s words.