Ransom

Chapter Thirty-Three

Proster told Gillian and Bridgid what had happened. In his enthusiasm, he went into excruciating and sickening detail as he described the fight, blow by bloody blow, and told them far more than either one of them wanted or needed to hear. By the time he was finished, Bridgid's face was gray and Gillian was sick to her stomach.

"You're certain Brodick and Ramsey were unharmed?" Gillian asked.

"Neither suffered so much as a nick," Proster replied. "They were both covered with blood, but it wasn't theirs, and they went to the lake to wash it off. Ramsey's going to let the bodies of the dead rot."

"I don't wish to hear another word," Bridgid said. She dismissed the soldier then and opened the door for him. "Gillian, I'll fetch some salve to put on your leg to help with the healing."

"You might want to wait," Proster advised. "Or take the back way. The grass in the courtyard is black from blood spilled, and I'm not certain all the dead have been dragged away yet."

"I'll go to my mother's, then, and get some salve from her. Proster, men died today and you should not be smiling."

"But they weren't good men," he countered. "They deserved to die."

They continued their argument as Proster closed the door.

Gillian sat down to wait for Brodick. She expected him to walk through the door at any moment. An hour later she was still waiting. By midafternoon she went searching for him and was told by one of the MacPhersons that her husband had left with Ramsey. It was speculated that the two lairds had gone to Iain Maitland to tell him the news.

She tried to wait up for her husband, but because she'd had so little rest the night before, she couldn't keep her eyes open. She finally fell into a fitful sleep.

Brodick woke her up in the middle of the night when he pulled her into his arms and made love to her. His hands were rough and demanding, and she felt a desperation in him, a violence barely controlled, but she didn't fight or reject him. Nay, she stroked and caressed him and tried to soothe the beast within. Their lovemaking was wild and frantic, and when he climaxed deep inside her, she came apart in his arms.

She told him she loved him, and he cherished her words because he knew that her love was going to be sorely tested in the days ahead. By tomorrow night, she could very well hate him.

Brisbane and Otis knocked on her door early the following morning. Gillian was dressed for the day and had just finished her morning meal.

"We have been instructed to take you to your sister," Brisbane announced.

"Did she finally agree to see me, then?" she asked as she stepped outside.

Otis shook his head. "She has been ordered to see you."

Gillian tried not to let them see how disappointed she was that her sister had once again refused her. They walked together to the stables, where their horses were saddled and waiting. Brisbane took the lead, and neither he nor Otis said another word until they reached a cluster of cottages near the border that once separated the MacPhersons from the Sinclairs.

Gillian was suddenly nervous and scared. Christen had already rejected her, and as painful and humiliating as that was, she had accepted it, but if her sister didn't know where the king's treasure was or had forgotten all that had happened, then everything was lost and Uncle Morgan was doomed.

"Please, God, let her remember," she whispered as she dismounted and walked toward the cottage Brisbane had pointed out.

"We'll wait here for you," Brisbane said.

"You needn't wait. I know the way back."

The door opened then, and a woman Gillian never would have recognized as her sister stepped into the sunlight. Her husband, tall and gaunt, followed her. His hostility was evident as he hovered protectively over his wife.

Christen was a good head taller than Gillian. Her hair was much darker too, and Liese had told Gillian that Christen had golden curls, but she didn't remember them. There wasn't a glimmer of recognition, and though Gillian knew this woman was her sister, she was a stranger to her.

She was heavy with child. No one had bothered to mention that fact to Gillian.

Had Christen not looked so sullen, Gillian would have embraced her and told her how happy she was to see her again. They stared at one another for a long minute before Gillian finally broke the uncomfortable silence.

"Are you Christen?"

"I am," she answered. "I used to be anyway. My parents changed my name. I'm called Kate now."

A burst of anger took Gillian by surprise, and she spoke before she could stop herself. "Your parents are dead and buried in England."

"I don't remember them."

Gillian cocked her head to the side and stared at her sister. "I think you do remember our father."

"What is it you want from me?" she asked, a note of defiance creeping into her voice.

Gillian suddenly felt like weeping. "You're my sister. I wanted to see you again."

"But you want more than that, don't you?"

Her husband asked the question. Christen remembered her manners and quickly introduced him. His name was Manus.

Gillian lied when she told him she was pleased to meet him. Then she answered his question. "Yes, I do want something more."

Christen stiffened. "I cannot and will not go back to England. My life is here, Gillian."

"Is that what you're so afraid of? That I'll force you to go home with me? Oh, Christen, I would never ask that of you."

The sincerity in her voice must have gotten through to Christen. She nodded to her husband and whispered something in his ear. Manus reluctantly agreed, and after bowing, he went inside and then carried out two chairs. Christen sat down and motioned for Gillian to do the same. Manus went back inside, and they were suddenly alone, two sisters who were strangers.

"Are you happy?" she asked, hoping to put Christen at ease by urging her to talk about her life with the MacPhersons.

"Yes, I'm very happy," she answered. "Manus and I have been married five years now, and soon we will welcome our first child."

Gillian decided to get to the heart of the matter before her sister decided to end the reunion. Twice she'd glanced at the door.

"I only want to talk to you," Gillian said.

"How did you find me?"

"One of the Sinclairs found out who you were and told Baron Alford. Do you remember him?"

She nodded. "He's sent others in the past to try to find me and drag me back to England. So did the king. How did this soldier find out?"

"I don't know," she replied.

"It seems strange to talk of this. My parents urged me to forget."

"I need you to remember."

"Why?"

"Our Uncle Morgan's life is at stake. Do you remember him?"

"No."

"Christen, I swear to you that when I return to England, I will convince the baron and the king that you are dead. I give you my word. They won't hound you any longer."

Christen's eyes widened. "How will you make them believe you?"

"I'll find a way," she assured her. "But now I need you to try to remember that night our father died."

"What makes you think I would remember what happened? I was very young."

"You're three years older than I am," Gillian pointed out. "Even I remember being terrified."

"I don't want to talk about that night. I've spent years trying to forget."

Gillian tried everything she could think of to convince her sister to help her. She pleaded and begged, but it didn't matter, for Christen continued to refuse. When Manus came outside and announced that his wife needed to rest and that it was time for Gillian to leave, Christen looked relieved, as though she'd just been given a stay of execution, and that broke Gillian's heart.

Overwhelmed with disappointment, she stood up and slowly walked down the path. Tears streamed down her face as she thought about her uncle. What a fool she had been to believe that she could save him.

Suddenly enraged by her sister's attitude, she whirled around and shouted, "Christen, when did you become such a coward? You shame our father, and I thank God he's not alive to see what you've become."

Gillian's disdain slashed through Christen like a knife. Bursting into tears, she called out, "Wait. Don't leave." Pulling away from her husband, she hurried toward Gillian. "Please forgive me," she sobbed.

And suddenly her sister was there and not a stranger, and they embraced and wept for what they had lost. "I never forgot you," Christen whispered. "I never forgot my baby sister. Do you forgive me?" Christen asked as she mopped at her eyes with the backs of her hands. "For so many years I've lived with the guilt, and I knew it wasn't my fault, but I couldn't-"

"You have nothing to feel guilty about," Gillian said. "None of it was your doing."

"But I got away and you were trapped."

"Oh, Christen, you cannot blame yourself. You were just a little girl. You couldn't have changed what happened."

"I remember that night as though it happened yesterday. God knows I tried to forget. I remember father kissing us good-bye. He smelled of leather and soap. His hands were rough with calluses, but I remember liking it when he would stroke my face."

"I don't have many memories of our father."

"It's funny. I don't remember the color of his eyes or hair, but I remember his scent and his touch."

"You remember Liese, don't you?"

"Yes, I do," she replied, smiling.

"She kept my memory of you alive. She told me the soldiers called you Golden Girl."

Christen laughed. "They did, and my hair was golden then. It's turned dark over the years."

"Christen, tell me what happened that night."

"The soldiers were going to take us away because it wasn't safe. One of our father's enemies had attacked."

"Baron Alford and his troops," Gillian supplied.

"I don't remember being afraid. Father gave me a present, and you were upset because he didn't have one for you."

"The jeweled box," Gillian whispered. "He gave you the king's treasure. The soldiers told Liese that your guards were supposed to help you keep it safe until the battle was over and Father could come for you. Do you have it hidden away, Christen?"

"No," her sister answered. "And I don't know what happened to it."

Gillian's disappointment was wrenching. "I… had… hoped…"

A sudden burst of wind stirred the leaves at their feet. It was warm and sunny, but Christen began to rub her arms as though she could ward off the chill that came with the memories.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't know where the treasure is."

Gillian didn't say a word for a long time, for she was battling her despair and panic. How could she save her uncle now? Without the box or her sister, he was doomed.

"Father died that night, didn't he?"

"Yes," Gillian whispered.

"Were you there?"

She had to force herself to concentrate on what her sister was asking. "Yes, I was there, but my memories from that night are so hazy."

"Father wrapped the box in a cloth."

"Who was there in the chamber with us?"

"There were four soldiers and father," Christen answered. "Tom and Lawrence were to go with me, but I don't remember the names of the men assigned to take you to safety."

"Liese told me their names. They were William and Spencer, and they died trying to protect me. I pray for their souls every night."

"I don't know what happened to Lawrence and Tom. I was given to one of Tom's relatives and told that Father would come for me. Both he and Lawrence left me, and I can only guess that they returned to our father. I never saw them again."

"Did you have the box with you then?"

"No, I didn't."

"Then what happened to it?" Gillian asked, gripping her hands in frustration. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm down, and then said, "Tell me exactly what happened after Father gave you the treasure."

"I dropped it," she said. "I was so afraid I'd broken it and I'd be scolded, but Liese's husband picked it up. Father wrapped it and gave it to me. Then he left."

"Ector was there?"

"Yes, that was his name. He was there, but only for a minute or two. He must have died that night too in the battle."

Gillian shook her head. "No, he didn't die, but he lost his mind. He frightened me," she added. "I heard stories about him over the years. He lived like an animal in the corner of the old stables, and he carried an old knapsack filled with dirt. Liese told me it was cowardice that broke his mind, and she didn't cry at all when she heard he died."

"And Liese? What happened to her?"

"She lived with me and Uncle Morgan, and I think she was very happy. She died in her sleep," she added, "and she hadn't been ill long at all. She didn't suffer. She knew about the passage door between our chambers, but she never let on that she did."

"But we didn't go through that doorway the night of the attack. We were in father's room, weren't we?"

"Yes, and the soldiers lit torches to take us out."

"We fell down the steps," Gillian said then. "It was very steep. I had nightmares for years, and I cannot stand to look down from a great height even now."

"But we didn't fall down the steps. We were pushed. I remember it clearly," Christen said, her voice shaking with emotion. "You were behind me, and you were trying to get the box away from me. I turned around to tell you to stop, and I saw him then. He jumped out of the shadows and threw himself at us. I think he must have taken the box then too. The soldiers lost their footing and we went flying down the steps. There was terrible screaming and then I struck my head on the stones, and when I awoke, I was in Lawrence 's arms on his horse and we were well away from the holding."

Gillian's nightmares came back to her with a new clarity and understanding. "In my dreams there were monsters who leapt from the wall and chased us. I must have seen him too."

"I never saw his face," Christen said. "But whoever it was got away with the treasure."

"Then it must still be there… somewhere… unless whoever took it got away before the baron sealed off the holding. Oh, God, I don't know what to do."

"Stay here," Christen urged. "Don't go back to England. You're married to a laird and your life is here."

"Christen, could you turn your back on the family you've come to love?"

"No, of course not."

"Uncle Morgan is depending on me."

"He would want you to be happy."

"He raised me," Gillian cried out. "And he was loving and kind and generous. I would die for him. I must go back."

"I wish I could help you, but I don't know how. Perhaps if I put my mind to it, I can think of something I've forgotten about that night. I'll try," Christen promised.

They continued to sit together and talk about the past until Gillian noticed how weary her sister was. She kissed her on the cheek and promised to come and see her again.

"If I'm able to return from England, I would like to get to know you better. I won't ask anything more of you, Christen. I promise, but now that I've found you again, I don't want to lose you."

Christen slowly stood up. She couldn't quite look Gillian in the eye when she told her how she felt about their reunion. "I remember you as a little girl, but now I feel that we are strangers with little in common. I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I must be completely honest with you. Dredging up the past only brings painful memories back, and when I look at you, I'm reminded of a time I desperately want to forget. Perhaps I'll change my mind one day. Now, however, I believe it's best if we go our separate ways. I promise you, though, that if I remember anything that can be of help to you in your search, I'll send word to you."

Gillian was devastated and quickly bowed her head so that Christen wouldn't see how hurt she was.

"As you wish," she whispered.

Without another word, she turned and slowly walked down the path. She didn't look back.