Saving Grace

Chapter 6

Johanna awakened to the sound of pounding. A crash followed. She thought the roof had caved in. She bolted up in the bed just as the door opened. Gabriel walked inside. She grabbed hold of the covers and pulled them up to cover her chest.

She knew she looked a sight. Her hair hung down over her face, obstructing her view. She clutched the covers with one hand and brushed her hair back over her shoulders with her other hand.

"Good morning, Laird MacBain."

He found her attempt at modesty amusing, considering the fact that he'd stroked every inch of her body during the night. She was blushing, too.

"After last night, I don't believe you need to be embarrassed with me, Johanna."

She nodded. "I will try not to be embarrassed," she promised.

Gabriel walked over to the foot of the bed. He clasped his hands behind his back and frowned at her.

She smiled back.

"It isn't morning," he announced, "but afternoon."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "I was exhausted," she blurted out in defense of having slept half the day away. "I'm usually awake at dawn, m'lord, but the journey here was very tiring. What is that pounding noise I'm hearing?" She added the question in an attempt to turn the topic away from her laziness.

"The men are working on the new roof above the great hall."

He noticed the dark circles under her eyes. Her skin was pale. He was sorry he'd awakened her. Then the hammering started again, and he realized that noise would have shaken her awake anyway. Gabriel decided he shouldn't have allowed the work on the roof to begin today. His bride needed rest, not distraction.

"Was there something you wanted, m'lord?"

"I wanted to give you your instructions."

She smiled again, an indication, she hoped, of her willingness to take on whatever duties he wanted to give her.

"Today you will wear the MacBain plaid. Tomorrow you will switch to the Maclaurin colors."

"I will?"

"You will."

"Why?"

"You're mistress here over both clans and must try not to slight either faction. It would be an insult if you wore my colors two days in a row. Do you understand?"

He believed he'd been very specific. "Nay," she replied. "I don't understand. Aren't you laird over both clans?"

"I am."

"So you are, therefore, considered everyone's leader?"

"That is so."

He sounded terribly arrogant. He looked arrogant, too. His presence was… commanding. He fairly towered over the bed. And yet he'd been so incredibly gentle last night. The memory of their lovemaking made her sigh.

"Now do you understand me?" he asked, perplexed by the wide-eyed stare she was giving him.

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. "No, I still don't understand," she confessed. "If you're…"

"It isn't your place to understand," he announced.

She hid her exasperation. He seemed to want her agreement. He wasn't going to get it. She simply continued to stare at him and wait for his next outrageous remark.

"There is one more instruction I would give you," Gabriel said. "I don't want you to concern yourself with work of any kind. I want you to rest."

She was certain she hadn't heard him correctly. "Rest?"

"Yes."

"In heaven's name why?"

He frowned over her incredulous expression. It was apparent to him why she should rest. Still, if she needed to hear his reason, he would give it.

"It's going to take you time to recover."

"Recover from what?"

"From your journey here."

"But I've already recovered, m'lord. I slept the morning away. I'm fully rested now."

He turned to leave. "Gabriel?" she called out to stop him.

"I asked you not to call me by that name."

"Last night you demanded I say your name," she reminded him.

"When?"

She immediately started blushing. "When we were… kissing."

He remembered. "That was different," he told her.

"What was? Kissing me or demanding I say your name?"

He didn't answer her.

"Gabriel is a fine name."

"I am through discussing this," he announced.

She didn't know what to make of his behavior. She decided to put the matter of his name aside for the moment. He was reaching for the door latch and she wanted to ask him something before he left. "May I go hunting this afternoon?"

"I've just explained I want you to rest. Don't make me repeat myself."

"But you aren't making any sense at all, m'lord." He turned around and walked back to the side of the bed. He looked irritated, but only mildly so. He didn't intimidate her. The realization popped into her mind all at once. She smiled in reaction. She didn't under stand why she felt that way, but she did. She was actually speaking her mind, too, and that was a pleasant first in a long, long while. It felt… liberating.

"I've already explained I've recovered from my journey here," she reminded him.

He clasped her jaw in his hand and tilted her head back so she would have to look into his eyes. He almost smiled when he saw how disgruntled she looked.

"There is another reason I want you to rest," he announced.

She gently nudged his hand away. She was getting a crick in her neck looking up at him. "And what might your reason be, m'lord?"

"You're weak."

She shook her head. "You mentioned that opinion last night, husband. It wasn't true then and it isn't true now."

"You are weak, Johanna," he repeated, ignoring her protest. "It's going to take you time to build up your strength. I'm aware of your limitations, even if you aren't."

He didn't give her time to argue over his decision. He leaned down, kissed her, and then left the chamber.

As soon as the door closed behind him, she threw off the covers and got out of bed.

How could her husband form such unbending opinions about her character so quickly? He couldn't possibly know her limitations. He hadn't known her long enough. It was unreasonable for him to draw any conclusions about her.

Johanna continued to think about her husband while she washed and dressed. Father MacKechnie had explained what she would be expected to wear underneath the plaid. She put on the Highland dress, a white long-sleeved underblouse and skirt, then donned the MacBain plaid. She fashioned perfect pleats around her waist, tossed one end of the long strip of material over her right shoulder so the plaid would cover her heart, and secured the garment with a narrow brown leather belt.

She thought about unpacking her bow and arrows and ignoring her husband's command altogether, then changed her mind. Open defiance probably wouldn't sit well with Gabriel. She had already learned he was a proud man, and she didn't believe she could achieve anything by challenging his decision.

Still, there was always more than one way into a castle. Her mother used to whisper that reminder to Johanna when she argued with her father. Johanna's mother was a wise woman. She was loyal to her husband, of course, but over the years she had learned how to get around his stubborn moods. Johanna had learned from her mother's example. The dear woman was full of clever sayings she'd passed down to her daughter. She never tried to manipulate her husband, she explained, for manipulating would be dishonorable, and the end, after all, didn't always justify the means. She was very clever, though, and usually found a way to placate everyone in her household.

Unbeknownst to her mother, Johanna's father frequently took her aside when she was bickering with her mother as well. He too had advice to give regarding the delicate methods he employed to get along with his wife when she was in one of her stubborn moods. Johanna's mother's suggestions made far more sense than her father's recommendations. She learned something more important from her father, however. He loved his wife and would do anything in his power to make her happy. He just didn't want his wife to know it. The two of them played a game of sorts where both were the victors. Johanna thought their marriage a bit strange, but they had been very happy together, and she thought that was all that mattered.

Johanna only wanted to live a quiet, peaceful life. In order to achieve her goal, she would simply make certain she stayed out of her husband's way. She wouldn't interfere in his affairs, and she would definitely try to get along with him. In return, she expected him to try to get along with her and stay out of her way. After her years with Raulf, Johanna believed with all her heart that being left alone would make her happy.

She turned her attention to straightening up the chamber. She made the bed, swept the floor, unpacked her clothes and put them away in the chest, and then tucked her three satchels under the bed. She was in a hurry to get outside, for it had turned out to be a glorious day. When she tied the fur covering back from the window, sunlight flooded the chamber. The scent of the Highlands filled the air. The view was breathtaking. The meadow below was as green as emeralds. The hills beyond were thick with giant pine and oak trees. Splashes of color dotted the landscape; red, pink, and purple wildflowers clustered together along a winding path that seemed to lead all the way to heaven.

After eating a small meal, Johanna decided to take little Alex with her on a walk across the meadow and up the path beyond. She would gather a skirt full of flowers to put on the mantel.

Finding the little boy turned out to be quite a challenge. She went downstairs and stood at the entrance to the great hall, waiting for one of the soldiers to notice her. There were four men tearing at the far wall and another three high up on the roof, working on the slats.

Everyone seemed to notice her at once. The pounding stopped. Since they were all staring at her, she made a curtsy in greeting before asking if they knew where Alex might be.

No one answered her. She was feeling extremely selfconscious. She repeated her question but kept her gaze centered on the soldier standing in front of the hearth. He smiled, scratched his beard, and then shrugged at her.

Finally Gabriel's first-in-command explained. "They don't understand you, m'lady."

She turned to the soldier and smiled. "They speak only Gaelic, m'lord?"

"Aye," he answered. "They speak only Gaelic. Please, you needn't call me your lord. I'm only a soldier here. Calum will do."

"As you wish, Calum."

"You're a bonny lass, wearing our plaid."

He seemed embarrassed giving her that compliment. "Thank you," she answered, wondering what the word bonny meant.

She turned back to the men watching her and asked them her question in Gaelic. She frowned with concentration. The language was difficult, tongue twisting in fact when she was so nervous inside, but when she'd finished her question, only one of the older men openly winced. The others smiled.

Still no one answered her. They all turned to stare at the hem of her gown. She looked down to see if something was amiss. Then she turned to Calum, hoping for an explanation. His eyes, she noticed, sparkled with amusement. "You asked them if they'd seen your feet, m'lady."

"I meant to ask if they'd seen Gabriel's son," she explained. Calum gave her the proper word to use. She again turned and repeated her question.

The men shook their heads. She thanked them for their attention and turned to leave. Calum hurried ahead of her to open the door.

"I must work on my accent," she announced. "I could tell from that one gentleman's expression I was making a muck of it."

Aye, she was making a muck of it, Calum thought to himself. He wasn't about to agree, however, because he didn't want to injure her feelings.

"The men appreciate the fact that you're trying, m'lady."

"It's the burr, Calum," Johanna decided. "I haven't quite captured it yet. It's a very challenging language," she added. "You could be a help if you would."

"How?" he asked.

"From this moment on, speak only Gaelic when you address me. I believe I'll catch on much quicker if your language is all I hear."

"Certainly," Calum agreed in Gaelic.

"Excuse me?"

"I said certainly, m'lady," Calum explained.

She smiled. "Have you seen Alex?"

He shook his head. "He might be down at the stables," he said. He spoke in Gaelic and pointed in the direction of the stables in an attempt to help her guess what he'd just said.

Because she was concentrating on interpreting what he was saying to her, she barely paid any attention to what was going on in the courtyard. There were soldiers everywhere, but she didn't notice what they were doing.

She finally figured out what Calum had said, blurted out her thank you, and went running across the yard.

She suddenly found herself in the middle of a sparring exercise. Calum grabbed her by her shoulders and pulled her back just in the nick of time. A lance nearly sliced her down the middle.

One of the Maclaurin soldiers let out a loud expletive. Gabriel had been watching the sparring from the opposite side of the yard. He saw his wife's near miss and immediately shouted a halt to the training session.

Johanna was horrified by her own behavior. Such inattention was shameful. She picked up the lance the soldier had dropped and handed it to the man. His face was flaming red. She didn't know if he was embarrassed or furious.

"Pray forgive me, sir. I wasn't watching where I was going."

The dark-haired soldier gave her a quick nod. Calum still had his hands on her shoulders. He gently tugged her back.

She turned to thank him for his quickness in coming to her aid. She spotted her husband coming her way. Her smile faltered when she took in the look on his face.

The soldiers were all staring at her. The MacBain warriors were smiling. The Maclaurins were frowning.

That mixed reaction confused her. Then Gabriel was standing in front of her, blocking her view. His attention was centered on Calum. He didn't say a word, just frowned at the soldier. Johanna realized Calum still had hold of her. The minute the soldier released his grip, his laird turned his attention and his scowl on her.

Her heart started pounding with her fear. She desperately tried to hold onto her composure. She wasn't about to let him know how frightened she was.

She decided not to give him time to berate her. "I was very inattentive, m'lord, sinfully so. I could have been killed."

He shook his head. "You could not have been killed. You insult Calum by suggesting he would have allowed you injury."

She wasn't going to argue with her husband. "I meant no insult," she said. She turned to Calum. "Please accept my apology. I wished to soften my husband's anger with me by being the first to acknowledge my foolishness."

"Do you have a problem with your sight?" Gabriel asked.

"No," she answered.

"Then why in God's name didn't you see my men were fighting with weapons?"

She mistook his exasperation for anger. "I have explained, m'lord. I wasn't paying attention."

Her husband didn't show any reaction to her explanation. He simply continued to stare at her. He was waiting for his temper to calm. Seeing his wife come so close to death had frightened the hell out of him. It was going to take him a long while to get over it.

A full minute passed in silence. Johanna thought her husband was considering her penance.

"I apologize for interrupting your important work," she said. "If you wish to strike me, please do so now. The wait is becoming unbearable."

Calum couldn't believe what he'd just heard. "M'lady…"

He was stopped from saying more when Gabriel raised his hand for silence.

The second his hand moved, she backed up. It was a protective action learned from past lessons. She realized what she was doing and immediately moved forward again.

Her husband had best understand she wasn't going to let the past repeat itself. "I would warn you, m'lord. I cannot stop you from striking me, but the minute you do I'll leave this holding."

"Surely you cannot believe our laird would…"

"Stay out of this, Calum."

Gabriel gave his command in a hard voice. He was furious over the insult his wife had just given him, but damn it all, the fear was real. He had to remind himself that she didn't know him well and, therefore, had only jumped to the wrong conclusions. He took hold of Johanna's hand, started up the steps, then heard the pounding and immediately changed directions. He wanted privacy for this important discussion.

She tripped over the step when her husband turned, righted herself, and hurried to keep up. Calum shook his head as he watched his laird drag his mistress behind him. It wasn't Lady Johanna's awkwardness that caused him to frown but the paleness that had come over her complexion. Did she believe her laird was going to take her someplace private so he could beat her without an audience?

Keith, the red-haired leader of the Maclaurin soldiers, walked over to stand next to Calum. "What has you frowning?" he asked.

"Lady Johanna," Calum answered. "Someone has filled her head with dark tales about our laird. I believe she's afraid of him."

Keith snorted. "Some of the women are already saying she's afraid of her own shadow. They've given her a nickname," he added. "After just one look at her, they're calling her Courageous. 'Tis a pity, their mockery, for they're judging her without giving her a fair chance."

Calum was furious. In calling her Courageous, they, of course, meant just the opposite-they believed her to be a coward. "MacBain better not hear of this," he warned. "Who started this blasphemy?"

Keith wasn't about to give him the name. The woman was a Maclaurin. "Who it was isn't important," he argued. "The name caught on. The way Lady Johanna trembled at the sight of the laird's hound started some of the women smirking, and the frightened look in her eyes each time MacBain spoke to her made them conclude she was…"

Calum interrupted him. "She's timid, perhaps, but certainly not a coward. You'd best put the fear of God in your women, Keith. They think they're so damned clever with their game. If I hear the name from any Maclaurin, I'll retaliate."

Keith nodded. "It's easier for you to accept her," he said. "But the Maclaurins aren't so forgiving. Remember, it was her first husband who destroyed all we'd worked so hard to build. It's going to take time for them to forget."

Calum shook his head. "A Highlander never forgets. You know that as well as I."

"Then to forgive," Keith suggested.

"She had nothing to do with the atrocity done here. She doesn't require anyone's forgiveness. Remind the women of that important truth."

Keith nodded agreement. He didn't believe his reminder would make much difference, however. The women were set against her, and he couldn't imagine what he could say to change their opinions.

Both warriors kept their gazes on their laird and his bride and watched until they disappeared down the hill.

Gabriel and Johanna were quite alone now, but he still didn't stop. He continued walking until they reached the meadow. He wanted to rid himself of his anger before he talked to her.

He finally stopped. Then he turned to look at her. She wouldn't look at him. She tried to tug her hand away from his, but he wouldn't let go of her.

"You've given me a grave insult by suggesting I would harm you."

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 French. 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 plaid. 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.

Gabriel was amused by her timidity. The dog obviously intimidated her. He couldn't imagine why. He heard the low growling. So did his wife. She backed up a step. Gabriel ordered his hound to quit his show of bluster.

Some of the Maclaurin soldiers were still seated atop their mounts, watching their laird and his wife. A few grinned when they saw her fear of the dog. Others shook their heads.

"Did your hunt go well, m'lord?" Johanna asked.

"It did."

"Was there enough grain to be taken?" Calum asked.

"More than enough," Gabriel answered.

"You went hunting for grain?" Johanna asked, trying to understand.

"And a few other necessary items, ' her husband explained. "There's dirt on your face, wife. What have you been doing?"

She tried to wipe the dirt away. Gabriel grabbed hold of her hands and looked at them.

"I was helping Auggie dig holes."

"I do not want my wife to dirty her hands."

He sounded as though he was giving her an important commandment. Her husband appeared to be more than just a little irritated with her.

"But I have just explained…"

"My wife does not do common tasks."

She was exasperated. "Have you more than one, m'lord?"

"More than one what?"

"Wife."

"Of course not."

"Then it would appear that your wife does indeed get her hands dirty," she said. "I'm sorry if that displeases you, though I really can't imagine why it does. I can tell you I'm certain to get them dirty again."

She'd tried to use logic to soothe him, but he wasn't in the mood to be reasonable. He shook his head and scowled at her. "You will not," he commanded. "You're mistress here, Johanna. You will not lower yourself to such tasks."

She didn't know if she should laugh or frown. She settled on a sigh instead. The man had the oddest notions.

He seemed to want some sort of answer. She decided to try to placate him. "As you wish, m'lord," she whispered, determined not to let her sudden irritation show.

She was trying to be submissive, Gabriel decided. He thought it was probably killing her. She had a murderous look in her eyes, but she held onto her serene smile, and her voice sounded humble.

Johanna turned to Calum. She ignored the grin on his face. "Where do the women wash?"

"There's a well behind the keep, m'lady, but most bathe in Rush Creek."

Calum was going to escort her. Gabriel took over the task. He grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her along.

"In future, water will be carried to you," he said.

"In future, I would appreciate it if you didn't treat me like a child."

He couldn't believe the anger he heard in her voice. Johanna wasn't quite so timid after all.

"I would also appreciate it if you didn't berate me in front of your soldiers."

He nodded. His quick agreement eased her irritation. Her husband had a long-legged stride. They rounded the corner and started down the slope. Huts lined the hill, and more were clustered in a wide circle at the base. The well was in the center. Several of the Maclaurin women were standing in line with their buckets, waiting their turn to fetch fresh water. Several called out greetings to their laird. He nodded and continued on.

The wall was just beyond the line of huts. Johanna wanted to stop to look at it. Gabriel wouldn't let her. They passed through the opening of the mammoth structure and continued on.

Johanna had to run to keep up with her husband. By the time they reached the second slope, she was out of breath. "Do slow down, Gabriel. My legs aren't as long as yours." He immediately slowed his pace. He didn't let go of her hand, however. She didn't try to pull away. She heard the women's laughter in the background and wondered what they found amusing.

Rush Creek was a wide, deep stream. It ran the length of the mountain, her husband explained, from the top to a pool at the bottom where their land bordered with the Gillevrey territory. Trees lined the sides of the waterway, and wildflowers were so abundant they seemed to be growing out of the water as well as along the banks. The area was breathtakingly beautiful.

Johanna knelt on the bank, leaned forward, and washed her hands. The water was clear enough for her to see the bottom. Gabriel knelt beside her, cupped a handful of the frigid water, and poured it over the back of his neck. Her husband's pet appeared out of the woods, moved to her side, growled once, and then began to drink from the creek. Johanna wet her linen cloth and washed her face. Gabriel leaned back to watch her. Her every movement was graceful. She was a mystery to him, and he assumed his curiosity and his fascination were both due to the fact that he'd never spent any significant amount of time with any woman. Johanna wasn't paying any attention to her husband. She spotted what appeared to be a perfectly round stone at the bottom of the stream, decided Auggie could use it for his game, and reached down to get it.

The creek was much deeper than she'd judged it to be. She would have gone in headfirst if her husband hadn't grabbed hold of her and hauled her back.

"It's usual to take your clothes off before you bathe," he said dryly.

She laughed. "I lost my balance. I was trying to get a stone that caught my eye. Will you fetch it for me?"

He leaned forward to look. "There are at least a hundred stones, wife. Which do you fancy?" She pointed. "The perfectly round one," she replied. Gabriel reached down, lifted the stone, and handed it to her. She smiled in appreciation. "Auggie will like this one," she announced.

Johanna moved further back on the grassy slope, tucked her feet under her plaid and dropped the stone into her lap. A light breeze brushed through the trees. The scent of pine and early heather filled the air. The area was secluded and peaceful.

"Scotland is very beautiful," she said. He shook his head. "Not Scotland," he corrected. "The Highlands are beautiful."

Gabriel didn't seem inclined to hurry back to his duties. He leaned his back against the trunk of a pine tree, crossed one ankle over the other, and adjusted the sword at his side so it wouldn't be scratched. His dog moved to his other side and stretched out next to him.

Johanna stared at her husband for several minutes before speaking again. The man had the ability to mesmerize her. She thought the reaction was due to the fact that there was so much of him. He was certainly as tall as Nicholas but far more muscular. At least she thought he was. "Tell me what you're thinking." Her husband's command jarred her. "I've never seen Nicholas without a tunic on. That's what I was thinking. I believe you're more muscular than my brother, but since I haven't seen him… They were foolish thoughts, husband."

"Aye, they are foolish thoughts." She didn't take exception to his agreement. His slow grin told her he was teasing. Gabriel looked very content with his eyes closed and the soft smile on his face. He really was a dashing man.

Johanna noticed his pet nudge Gabriel's hand and was immediately rewarded with a quick pat.

Her husband wasn't such a worry to her any longer. Not only could he control his temper, but he also had a gentle streak in his nature. The way his hound responded to him told her that much about his character.

Gabriel caught her staring at him. She blushed with embarrassment and turned her gaze to her lap. She didn't want to leave just yet. She was enjoying this peaceful interlude with her husband. She decided to draw him into further conversation before he could suggest they go back.

"Aren't Scotland and the Highlands the same, m'lord?"

"They are and they aren't," he answered. "We don't consider ourselves Scots as you English are so inclined to call us. We're either Highlanders or Lowlanders."

"From the tone of your voice when you said Lowlanders, I assume you don't particularly like those people."

"Nay, I don't like them."

"Why?"

"They've forgotten who they are," he explained.

"They've become English."

"I'm English." She blurted out the reminder before she could stop herself.

She sounded worried. He smiled. "I'm aware of that fact."

"Yes, of course you are," she agreed. "Perhaps, in time, you'll forget."

"'Tis highly doubtful."

She didn't know if he was jesting with her or not. She decided to turn the topic to a less sensitive one.

"Auggie isn't daft."

"No, he isn't. The Maclaurins believe that nonsense, not the MacBains."

"He's actually very clever, husband. The game he made up is most amusing. You must try it sometime. It requires skill."

He nodded agreement just to placate her. He found her defense of the old man admirable. "Auggie didn't invent the game. It's been around for long years. In the old days, stones were used, but the men also carved balls out of wooden blocks. Some even fashioned leather balls and filled them with wet feathers."

Johanna stored the information away for future use. Perhaps she could make a few of the leather balls for Auggie.

"He says I've caught the fever."

"God help us," Gabriel drawled out. "Auggie plays the game all day, every day, rain or shine."

"Why were you irritated over a little speck of dirt on my face and hands?"

"I've already explained my position. You're my wife now. You must behave accordingly. There's rivalry between the MacBains and the Maclaurins; and until the clans become accustomed to living together in peace, I must show only strength, not vulnerability."

"Do I make you vulnerable?"

"Aye, you do."

"Why? I want to understand," she told him. "Was it the dirt or was it the fact that I was spending the afternoon with Auggie?"

"I don't want you down on your knees, Johanna. You must act with proper decorum at all times. My wife will not do common work."

"You've already mentioned that opinion."

"It isn't an opinion," he countered. "It's a command."

She tried not to let him see how disgruntled she was becoming. " 'Tis the truth I'm surprised you concern yourself with appearances. You don't seem the sort to care what other people think."

"I don't give a damn about other people's opinions," he countered, irritated by her conclusion. "I do care about keeping you safe."

"What does my safety have to do with my behavior?"

Gabriel didn't answer her.

"You should have married a Maclaurin. That would have solved your problem uniting the clans, wouldn't it?"

"I should have," he agreed. "But I didn't. I married you. We'll both have to make the best of it, Johanna."

He sounded resigned. He was still in an agreeable mood and she decided to change the topic again with a question that surely wouldn't prick his temper.

"Why doesn't your wolfhound like me?"

"He knows you're afraid of him."

She didn't argue over that truth. "What is he called?"

"Dumfries."

The dog's ears picked up when his master spoke his name. Johanna smiled in reaction. "It's a peculiar name," she remarked. "How did you come by it?"

"I found the dog near the Dumfries' holding. He was caught in mire. I pulled him out," he added. "He's been with me ever since."

Johanna moved closer to Gabriel's side. She slowly reached over to pat the animal. The dog watched her out of the corner of his eye; when she was about to touch him, he let out a menacing unearthly sound. She quickly pulled her hand back. Gabriel took hold of her arm and forced her to touch the hound. The dog kept up the horrid noise but didn't try to bite her hand off.

"Did I hurt you last night?"

The switch in topics made her blink. She bowed her head so he wouldn't see her quick blush, then whispered, "You didn't hurt me. You asked me after we…"

Gabriel nudged her chin up with his hand. The look in her eyes made him smile. He found her embarrassment amusing.

The look in his eyes made her heartbeat race. She thought he might want to kiss her. She found herself hoping he would.

"Will you want to make love to me again, m'lord?"

"Will you want me to?" he asked.

She stared into his eyes a long minute before giving him her answer. She wasn't going to try to be coy or clever. She'd only make a muck of it, she decided, because she'd never learned the fine art of flirting like the other young ladies had while they lived the high, courtly life in London. "Yes," she whispered, grimacing inside over the shiver in her voice. "I would like you to make love to me again. It wasn't half bad, m'lord."

Gabriel laughed over her jest. Her blush, he noticed, was now as red as fire. Her embarrassment hadn't stopped her from telling him the truth, however. He pulled away from the tree trunk and bent down to kiss her. His mouth brushed over hers in a tender caress. She sighed into his mouth and put her hands on his shoulders.

It was all the encouragement he needed. Before he realized his intent, he lifted her onto his lap, wrapped his arms around her waist, and kissed her again. His mouth covered hers and his tongue swept inside to taste, stroke, and drive her wild. She went weak in his arms. She clung to him and kissed him just as thoroughly. Johanna was a little stunned by how quickly her entire body responded to her husband. Her heartbeat became frantic; her arms and legs began to tingle, and she kept forgetting to breathe.

Gabriel was shaken by his own reaction to his wife. She wasn't able to hold a part of herself back. She trusted him to keep her safe, he believed, or she wouldn't have allowed herself to be so uninhibited. Her passionate response ignited his own, and God help him, he couldn't seem to gather enough control to hold back either.

Hell, he'd take her here and now if he didn't put a stop to the sweet torment. He abruptly pulled back. He shouldn't have looked into her eyes. They were cloudy with passion. Damn, he had to kiss her again.

They were both shaken when he finally called a halt to the lovemaking. His breathing was labored. So was hers.

"You make me forget myself, m'lord."

He took that as a compliment. He lifted her off his lap, then stood up. Johanna was still rattled. Her face was flushed, and her hands trembled when she smoothed the hair back into her braid. He watched her try to right her appearance with vast amusement.

Women flustered easily, he decided. This one quicker than most.

"My hair's a sight," she stammered out when she caught his smile. "I've a mind to cut it… with your permission, of course."

"What you do with your hair is no concern to me. You don't need my permission. I have more important matters to think about."

He softened his rebuke with a quick kiss. Then he bent down, picked up the stone she wanted to give to Auggie, and handed it to her. He had to put the pebble in her hand. Aye, she was flustered all right, and damn, that fact pleased him. He winked at his wife and turned to walk back up the hill.

Johanna straightened the pleats of her plaid and then hurried to catch up with him.

She couldn't quit smiling. He knew his kisses had made mush out of her mind, she decided, because the look on his face was one of pure male satisfaction. She didn't mind his arrogance though.

Everything was going to be all right. Johanna did a lot of sighing on the way back up the hill. Yes, she thought to herself, she had made the right decision when she'd agreed to marry Gabriel.

Johanna was in such high spirits she barely minded Dumfries's bluster of growls each time she moved closer to Gabriel's side. Even the mighty beast wasn't going to ruin her good mood.

She brushed her hand against her husband's. He didn't take the hint. She nudged him again, and still he didn't catch on. She gave up trying to be subtle and took hold of his hand.

He acted as though she wasn't even there. His gaze was directed on the top of the hill, and she assumed his mind was already turned to thoughts of duties ahead. She didn't mind his inattention; and when they reached the cluster of workmen's huts, she pulled her hand away. She didn't think he would want to show affection in front of the clan. Gabriel surprised her by grabbing hold of her hand again. He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, then increased his stride until she was once again running to keep up.

Lord, she was happy. Aye, she'd done the right thing. She'd married a good-hearted man.