Saving Grace

by Julie Garwood

  Her eyes widened in surprise. He sounded furious enough to kill someone. Yet he felt injured that she thought he would strike her.

  "Have you nothing to say to me, wife?"

  "I interrupted your training session."

  "Yes, you did!"

  "I almost caused a soldier to harm me."

  "Yes!"

  "And you appeared to be very angry."

  "I was angry!"

  "Gabriel? Why are you shouting?"

  He let out a sigh. "I like to shout."

  "I see."

  "I had thought that in time you would learn to trust me. I have changed my mind. You will trust me," he commanded. "Starting now, this minute."

  He made it sound so simple. "I do not know if that is possible, m'lord. Trust must be earned."

  "Then decide now that I've earned it," he ordered. "Tell me you trust me, and mean it, damn it."

  He knew he was asking the impossible. He sighed again. "No man is allowed to beat his wife here. Only a coward would mistreat a woman, Johanna. None of my men are cowards. You have nothing to fear from me or anyone else here. I will forgive you your insult because you didn't understand. I will not be as tolerant in future. You would do well to remember that."

  She stared into his eyes. "But if I do insult you in future? What would you do?"

  He didn't have the faintest idea, but he wasn't about to admit it. "It will not happen again."

  Johanna nodded. She started to turn around to go back to the courtyard, then changed her mind.

  Her husband deserved an apology. "Sometimes I react before I have had time to think it through. Do you understand, m'lord? It seems to be instinctive. I really will try to trust you, and I thank you for your patience."

  He could tell from the way she was wringing her hands together that her confession was difficult for her. Her head was bowed and her voice sounded with bewilderment when she added, "I don't understand why I expect the worst. I never would have married you if I'd believed you would mistreat me, yet there seems to be a tiny part of me that has difficulty believing."

  "You please me, Johanna."

  "I do?"

  He smiled over the surprise in her voice. "You do," he repeated. "I know the confession was difficult for you. Where did you think you were going when you tried to run through a lance?" He added the question in an effort to change the subject. His wife looked like she might start weeping at any moment and he wanted to help her calm her emotions.

  "To find Alex. I thought we could take a walk to look over the holding."

  "I ordered you to rest."

  "I was going to take a restful walk. Gabriel, there's a man crawling on all fours behind you."

  She whispered the news and moved closer to her husband. He didn't turn around to look. He didn't need to. "That's Auggie," he explained.

  Johanna moved to stand next to her husband so she could get a closer look at the man. "What is he doing?"

  "Digging holes."

  "Why?"

  "He uses his staff to hit stones into the holes. It's a game he enjoys."

  "Is he daft?" she whispered, lest the old man overhear her.

  "He won't harm you. Leave him be. He has earned his leisure."

  Her husband took hold of her hand and started back up the hill. Johanna kept glancing back over her shoulder to get a better look at the man crawling his way across the meadow. "He's a MacBain," she blurted out. "He's wearing your plaid."

  "Our plaid," her husband corrected. "Auggie's one of us," he added. "Johanna, Alex isn't here. He was taken back to his mother's brother's family early this morning."

  "How long will he be away?"

  "Until the wall is finished. When the holding is secure, Alex will come home."

  "And how long will that be?" she asked. "A son needs his father, Gabriel."

  "I'm aware of my duties, wife. You needn't instruct me."

  "But I may give my opinion," she countered.

  He shrugged.

  "Have you begun work on your wall?" she asked.

  "It's half done."

  "Then how long before…"

  "A few more months," he answered. "I don't want you walking in the hills without a proper escort," he added with a frown. "It's too dangerous."

  "Is it too dangerous for all the women or just for me?"

  He kept silent. She had her answer then. She held her exasperation. "Explain these dangers to me."

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  "I haven't the time. Simply obey my commands and we'll get along quite well."

  "Of course we'll get along if I obey your every command," she muttered. "Honestly, Gabriel, I don't believe…"

  "The horses are sound."

  His interruption turned her concentration. "What did you say?"

  "The six horses you gave me are sound."

  She let out a sigh. "We're through discussing obedience, aren't we?"

  "Aye, we are."

  She laughed.

  He grinned. "You should do that more often."

  "Do what?"

  "Laugh."

  They'd reached the edge of the courtyard. Gabriel's manner underwent a radical change. His expression hardened. She thought the serious look was for the benefit of his audience. Every soldier was watching.

  "Gabriel?"

  "Yes?" He sounded impatient.

  "May I offer an opinion now?"

  "What is it?"

  "It's daft to use the courtyard for your training session as well as dangerous."

  He shook his head at her. "It wasn't dangerous until this morning. I want you to promise me something."

  "Yes?"

  "Don't ever threaten to leave me."

  The intensity in his demand surprised her. "I promise," she answered.

  Gabriel nodded, then started to walk away. "I won't ever let you go. You do understand that, don't you?"

  He didn't expect an answer. Johanna stood there for several minutes watching as her husband rejoined the training session. Gabriel was proving to be a complex man. Nicholas had told her the laird would marry her to secure the land. Yet Gabriel acted as though perhaps she were important to him, too.

  She found herself hoping her guess was true. They would get along much better if he liked her.

  She noticed Gabriel talking to Calum. The soldier glanced her way, nodded, and then started walking toward her. She didn't wait to find out what order her husband had given his first-in-command. She turned around and ran down the hill to the meadow. The MacBain soldier named Auggie intrigued her. She wanted to find out what game it was that required digging holes in the ground.

  The elderly man had a stock of white hair. He stood up when she called out to him. Deep lines around his mouth and eyes made her guess him to be at least fifty years old, perhaps even older. He had beautiful white teeth, handsome brown eyes, and a warm, inviting smile.

  Until she spoke to him. Johanna made a quick curtsy, then introduced herself in Gaelic.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced as though in acute pain. "You're slaughtering our beautiful language, girl," he announced.

  He spoke so fast, his words tripped together, and his brogue was as thick as her mama's stew. Johanna didn't understand a word he'd said. Auggie was forced to repeat his insult three times before she gained the meaning.

  "Please tell me, sir, which words I'm mispronouncing."

  "You're doing a fair job ruining all of them."

  "I would like to learn this language," she persisted, ignoring his comical expression of horror over her accent.

  "It would take too much discipline for an Englishwoman to become fluent," he said. "You would have to concentrate. I don't believe you English have that ability."

  Johanna couldn't understand much of what he said. Auggie dramatically slapped his forehead. "By all that's holy, you're taking the fun out of my insults, girl. You aren't understanding a word I'm saying."

  He cleared his throat and spoke again, though this time in F
rench. His command of the language was impressive, and his accent, impeccable. Johanna was impressed. Auggie was an educated man.

  "I can see I've surprised you. Did you judge me simpleminded?"

  She started to shake her head, then stopped herself. "You were crawling about on your knees, digging holes. I did jump to the conclusion you were a bit…"

  "Crazed?"

  She nodded. "I apologize, sir. When did you learn to speak…"

  He interrupted her. " 'Twas years and years ago," he explained. "Now what was it you wanted, interrupting me in the middle of my game?"

  "I was wondering what your game was," she said. "Why do you dig holes?"

  "Because no one will dig them for me."

  He snorted with laughter after giving her his jest.

  "But your reason?" she persisted.

  "The game I play requires holes to catch my stones if my aim is true. I use my staff as my club and round pebbles I strike forward. Would you like to have a try, lass? The game's in my blood. Perhaps you'll catch the fever, too."

  Auggie took her arm and pulled her along to where he'd left his staff. He showed her how he wanted her to hold onto the wooden pole, and when she'd braced her shoulders and her legs just the way he believed she should, he stepped back to give her further instruction.

  "Give it a good whack now. Aim for the hole straight ahead."

  She felt ridiculous. Auggie really was a little daft. But he was also a gentle man, and her interest in what he was doing seemed to please him. She wasn't about to hurt his feelings.

  She hit the round stone. It rolled to the edge of the hole, teetered, and then dropped in.

  She immediately wanted to try again. Auggie beamed with pleasure. "You've caught the fever," he announced with a nod.

  "What is this game called?" she asked as she knelt to retrieve her pebble. She retraced her steps to her original position, tried to remember the correct stance, and then waited for Auggie to answer.

  "The game doesn't have a name, but it dates back to olden days. Once you've mastered my short holes, lass, I'll take you along to the ridge with me, and you can try for distance. You'll have to do your part, though, and find your own stones. The rounder the better, of course."

  Johanna missed on her second try. Auggie told her she wasn't paying attention. She had to try again, of course. She was so intent on pleasing him and hitting the hole, she didn't even realize they were now speaking Gaelic.

  She spent a large part of the afternoon with Auggie. Calum had obviously been given the duty of watching out for her. He appeared at the top of the hill every now and then to make certain she was still there. And staying out of mischief, she supposed. After a few hours Auggie called a halt to the game and motioned her over to the opposite side of the meadow where he'd left his supplies. He took hold of her arm and let out a grunt when he lowered himself to the ground. Then he motioned her to sit beside him. He handed her a leather pouch.

  "You're about to have a treat, lass," he announced. "It's uisgebreatha."

  "Breath of life," she translated.

  "Nay, water of life, girl. I've got my own brewing kettle, fashioned it myself after the one I studied at the MacKay holding. Our laird let me bring it along when we came to the Maclaurins. We're all castouts, you know, every one of us. I was a Maclead before I pledged myself to the MacBain."

  Johanna was intrigued. "Cast out? I don't understand what you mean, sir."

  "All of us were tossed out of our own clans for one reason or another. Your husband's fate was decided the day he was born a bastard. When he'd grown into manhood, he gathered us together and trained the younger ones to become fine warriors. Each of us has a talent, of course. You'll be tasting mine if you'll quit your lingering. I'm wanting a wee taste myself."

  It would have been rude to decline the invitation. Johanna lifted the pouch, flipped the cork off, and took a sip of the liquid.

  She thought she'd swallowed liquid fire. She let out a gasp, then started coughing. Auggie delighted in her reaction. He slapped his knee first, then pounded her between her shoulder blades to get her breathing properly again.

  "It's got a fair bite to it, doesn't it?"

  She could only nod agreement. "Get on home now, lass," he ordered. "Laird MacBain will be wondering where you are."

  Johanna stood up, then put her hand down to assist Auggie. "Thank you for a lovely afternoon, Auggie."

  The old man smiled. "You've taken on my burr, lass. That pleases me. You're a clever one, aren't you now? You must have a spot of Highland blood running in your veins."

  She knew he was teasing her. She bowed and turned to leave. "Would you be wanting to go to the ridge tomorrow, Auggie?" she called over her shoulder.

  "I might," he called back.

  "Will you take me with you if you do?"

  Johanna couldn't quit smiling. The day had turned out to be quite wonderful. Granted, she'd started out by pricking her husband's temper, but that little incident hadn't been horrible, and the rest of the afternoon had been lovely. She'd learned something important about her husband, too. He could control his temper. Anger didn't control him.

  That was a revelation. Johanna pondered the significance on her way back up the hill. Calum was waiting for her. He bowed his head in greeting, then walked by her side back to the keep.

  "I noticed you were playing Auggie's game," the soldier remarked.

  "It was most amusing," Johanna replied. "Do you know, Calum, I believe Auggie's one of the most interesting men I've ever known, save for my father, of course."

  Calum smiled over her enthusiasm. "Auggie reminds me of my father, too. He tells the same kind of spicy tales about times past, and he laces his truths with legends like my father always did." Thinking to compliment her, Calum added, "Auggie would be pleased to be compared to your father."

  She laughed. "He'd be insulted," she guessed. "My father was English, Calum. Auggie wouldn't get past that fact." She changed the subject then. "You have more important duties, I'm certain, than keeping your eye on me. Will my husband expect you to follow me around every day?"

  "There is no duty more important than protecting my mistress, m'lady," the soldier answered. "Tomorrow, however, Keith will be assigned the duty of watching out for you."

  "Keith is the first-in-command over the Maclaurin soldiers, isn't he?"

  "That is so. He answers only to our laird."

  "And you are first-in-command over the MacBain soldiers."

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  "Why what, m'lady?"

  "Why isn't there just one commander over both the MacBain and the Maclaurin soldiers?"

  "Perhaps you might ask your husband that question," Calum suggested. "He has sound reasons for allowing the Maclaurins their own leader."

  "Yes, I will ask him," she said. "I'm interested in learning all I can about the land and the people here. Where is my husband?"

  "Hunting," Calum answered. "He should be back any time now. Do you realize, m'lady, we've been speaking Gaelic? Your grasp of our language is quite impressive given the fact you've only had a few short weeks of instruction before you came here."

  She shook her head. "Nay, Calum, it was closer to four months of intense study under Father MacKechnie's supervision. I was a little nervous when I first met your laird, though I doubt you noticed for I'm very good at hiding my reactions. When he asked me how long I'd been studying Gaelic, I was a bit nervous and the answer flew out of my mind. I can tell from your occasional grimace I still haven't mastered the burr."

  Odd, but as soon as Calum made the mention that she was speaking Gaelic, she started tripping over her words and mispronouncing something fierce.

  They'd just crossed the courtyard when Calum spotted his laird.

  "Here's your husband now, m'lady."

  Johanna turned to greet Gabriel. She hurried to straighten her appearance. She brushed a strand of hair back over her shoulder, pinched her cheeks for color, and adjusted the folds in her p
laid. She noticed the condition of her hands then. They were caked with dirt from spending the afternoon digging with Auggie. Since there wasn't time to wash now, she hid them behind her back.

  The ground fairly trembled as the band of warriors rode their mounts up the last slope. Gabriel led the soldiers. He was riding one of the horses she'd given him as a wedding gift. The mare he'd chosen was the most temperamental of the lot. She was also the prettiest in Johanna's estimation. Her coat was as white as fresh snow with nary a mark on her. She was much bigger than the other horses, thicker in muscle as well, and certainly carried Gabriel's weight easily.

  "He's riding my favorite horse," Johanna told Calum.

  "She's a beauty."

  "She knows it, too," Johanna said. "Rachel's terribly vain. She likes to prance. It's her way of showing off."

  "She's showing off because she's proud to carry our important laird," Calum announced.

  She thought he was jesting with her. She burst into laughter, then noticed Calum wasn't even chuckling. She realized he was serious.

  Calum didn't know what she'd found amusing. He turned to ask her, saw the smudges of dirt she'd brushed on her cheeks, and smiled in reaction.

  Gabriel's hound came running toward his master from around the corner of the keep. The huge beast frightened the mare. Rachel tried to rear up and bolt at the same time.

  Gabriel forced her under control and dismounted. One of the soldiers led the horse away.

  The hound rushed forward. With one leap, he planted his front paws on Gabriel's shoulders. The dog was almost as tall as his master now and just as ferocious looking. Johanna's knees went weak watching the two of them. Thankfully the dog held great affection for his master. He was diligently trying to lick Gabriel's face. Her husband turned away before his pet could bathe him. He gave him a sound slap of affection. Dust flew from the hound's thick gray coat. Gabriel finally pushed the dog down and turned to his wife.

  He motioned her forward. She wondered if he expected her to plant her hands on his shoulders and kiss him in greeting. The thought amused her. She took a step forward, then came to a quick stop when the animal started growling at her.

  Gabriel was going to have to come to her. She kept the hound in her sights, wary now, as her husband walked forward. The dog, she noticed, attached himself to Gabriel's side and came with him.