The Wedding

Chapter 18

Connor had made his choice. When Brenna was given her husband's message, she was overwhelmed with defeat. He had gone to Euphemia. There was little hope for a future together now, as he was clearly locked in his past, and nothing she could do would ever change that.

As soon as she saw her reaction, Jamie was sorry she'd told her. Brenna had been rapidly recovering from her injuries until she was told Connor's whereabouts. She became withdrawn then, and even though Jamie tried to get her to tell her why, she refused to say a word.

The mere mention of Connor agitated her. After trying for three full days to get Brenna to tell her what was wrong, Jamie decided she would have to wait until their husbands returned to find out what the problem was.

Time healed Brenna's body. Her appearance underwent a dramatic change in a very short while. The swelling was nearly gone from her face and shoulders; the bruises had already begun to fade, and her arm was healing nicely.

On the fourth day of her confinement, Brenna was up and dressed. Jamie looked in on her after the noon meal was served, and was pleased to see her sitting in a chair next to the window.

"How are you feeling today?" she asked.

"Much better," Brenna told her. She tried to sound cheerful, but knew she'd failed when Jamie hurried to her side and put her hand on her forehead.

"There isn't any fever," Brenna said. "I'm fine now, really."

"You're healing quickly, but we both know your heart is still aching. I have a surprise that should make you smile though. Father Sinclair has been insistent on speaking with you. If he had told me earlier that he'd spoken to your mother, I would have let him come up," she added with a laugh. "He didn't think to mention that fact until a few minutes ago."

Brenna was overjoyed. "He's here, really here?"

"Ah, finally a smile," Jamie said. "He's been here since yesterday evening. He sat with you several hours last night, but you slept through it. Shall I show him in?"

"Yes, please."

Brenna jumped to her feet the second Father Sinclair entered the chamber. "I'm so happy to see you," she cried out.

"Be happy sitting down," Jamie ordered, hovering over her patient like a mother hen.

Brenna did as she was instructed, waited until the priest had moved a second chair over to the window to face her, and then said, "Was your journey successful?"

"All is well," Father assured her with a nod.

Brenna was afraid to believe him. She clasped hold of Jamie's hand and held tight. "You're certain?"

In answer, he held up her medallion and put it in her other hand. "I'm certain."

She burst into tears.

"This isn't good news?" Jamie asked. "Are you in pain? Tell me what's wrong, please."

"She's overcome with happiness," Father said.

"Yes, I'm happy," Brenna stammered out.

"I had no idea she'd lost her medallion."

"Oh, it was never lost," the priest said.

Jamie was thoroughly confused. "Then why…"

"You mustn't worry about me."

"I worry about you because I love you, sister, and so does your husband. Now, I'm leaving the two of you alone to visit. Father, I hope you'll be able to convince her Connor hasn't forsaken her."

Before the priest could respond, Brenna shook her head. "I would much rather you sat with us and heard my news from home."

Jamie declined the invitation. "If I leave the door open, I'm certain it will be all right for me to go downstairs. Grace is hiding under the table so she won't have to take her nap. The child hasn't figured out I can see her from across the hall, of course. I'll warn you now, Brenna. I promised her she could sit with you after she rests. She seems to think you belong to her while you're here."

"I would love to see her."

After bowing to Father Sinclair, Jamie left the room.

"You must tell me everything, Father," Brenna said.

The priest nodded. "I was welcomed into your parents' home right away, and I carried with me another brown robe for Faith to wear on her journey to Gillian's fortress. I heard that he, too, was away from his home, and I'll admit I wasn't certain what I should do then. Fortunately, the abbey came to mind. I knew that the monks keep rooms available for weary travelers. Faith met me in the meadow. She put on the robe when we reached the forest, and we avoided the main path on our journey."

"How can I ever repay you?" Brenna asked.

"You needn't repay me. God watched over us, and surely that was why we didn't run into any difficulties. Your sister is a lovely young woman. I was amused by her views on several subjects," he admitted.

The priest then told her several stories about her sister. Brenna laughed with delight, and oh, how the sound warmed Father's heart.

Once again, the element of surprise was on Connor's side, and they were ready to attack when the northerners flooded down through the passage. It was a bloody battle and a fight to the death, but in just three days time, the enemy was defeated. Tending to the wounded so that they could make the journey back home took much longer than the actual battle, and neither Connor nor Alec would leave until the last of their own was on his way.

The soldiers requiring stitches were taken to Jamie, who was kept busy from early morning until late at night repairing the damage. Stragglers continued to come across the drawbridge for three more days, and they also needed Jamie's care.

Fortunately, none of the men required last rites, which was all well and good, since Father Sinclair had left the Kincaid fortress to finish up what he told Jamie was an important matter at the Dunkady Abbey down near the Lowlands. He didn't expect to return to the MacAlisters' keep for at least two full weeks.

Because it was so chaotic, with men going and coming across the drawbridge at all hours of the day and early evening, no one noticed Brenna was missing, and it wasn't until an hour before Alec came home that Jamie realized she had vanished. Everyone searched high and low for her, of course, and all for nought.

By the time her husband came inside the hall, Jamie was beside herself with worry. Knowing how Connor was going to react, she decided to let Alec tell him.

She wouldn't even give her husband time to kiss her. She threw herself into his arms and cried out, "Oh, thank God you're home. I've lost Brenna. You have to find her."

Alec refused to believe such a thing was possible. No one could get in or out of his fortress without permission. An hour later, he wanted to kill every man who had been left behind to guard his family.

Yet, as infuriated as he was, his reaction was mild compared to Connor's. He was enraged.

"How could you lose her, Alec?" he roared.

"Could she have gone back home?"

"I stopped by my keep to get something I knew would please my wife. I sure as thunder would have noticed if she'd been there."

"I'm so sorry, Connor," Jamie said. She sat down at the table and buried her face in her hands. "I should have been watching her. I did look in every morning before I went downstairs, and I thought she was in the bed. It was too early to wake her up, and I didn't get back to the keep until late that night. I looked in her room again and thought she was sleeping. I should have pulled the covers back, and if I hadn't been so weary I would have noticed."

"Didn't one of the servants go into her room?" Connor asked.

"I told everyone not to bother her. Dear God, I don't even know how long she's been gone. I'm so sorry."

"Alec, take your wife to bed," Connor ordered. He followed his brother to the table and pulled the chair back so Jamie could get up.

"None of this is your fault, Jamie."

Alec lifted her into his arms. "You haven't had any sleep at all in the past week, have you?"

"I've been busy taking care of the wounded, Alec. I can sleep tomorrow. I have to find Brenna before…"

"Connor and I will find her. You're going to bed."

She was too tired to argue with him and knew she wasn't going to be very helpful anyway. She was having difficulty holding on to more than one thought at a time now. She put her head down on his shoulder. "I love you, Alec. What will you do to find her?"

"We'll start by tearing this keep apart. I'm not convinced she's gone."

Alec stopped in front of Quinlan and ordered him to keep Connor inside the hall until he came back, then carried his wife up to their bedroom.

"Don't forget to let the children know you're home," Jamie said. "And, Alec? I need to have you in our bed again. Will you wake me when you come in?"

She fell asleep before he could answer her. He removed her clothes, tucked the covers around her, kissed her forehead, and went back downstairs.

He and Connor personally went through every room in the keep. They extended their search, and when at last they reached the drawbridge, they were both convinced she had left.

Connor felt they had wasted their time. His anger quickly turned to panic.

"You know what her chances of surviving are outside the keep," Connor said. "She won't survive if she's alone, Alec. She…"

"She will survive," Alec snapped. "And you will soon be useless to me if you continue to think such thoughts."

By the time they returned to the hall, Connor was so scared, he couldn't think. He stormed about the room while he tried to figure out where she could have gone.

"Did you question all the men you left behind?"

"They were questioned, but not by me," Alec answered. "I've sent word for two of the men to return from sentry duty, and they will be here an hour after sunlight tomorrow."

"Tell me where they are," Connor demanded. "I'll go to them now."

"No."

Alec knew his brother well and was ready when Connor tried to leave. He blocked him with his arms.

"I'm going to order ten men to guard the doors in the event you try to leave during the night. Accept the fact that you aren't going anywhere until we figure out exactly where she is. The moon isn't providing sufficient light tonight, and you'll end up killing yourself and your horse if you leave here. You're going to be reasonable."

"You don't understand. I have to find her. She doesn't have a destination in mind."

"What does that mean?"

"Brenna only wants to get away from me. She blames me for not protecting her from Raen. I should have been there. I should have known… If anything happens to her, if I can't get to her before…"

"We'll find her," his brother insisted.

He and Quinlan stayed with Connor until the middle of the night. Alec went upstairs to sleep for an hour.

Connor wanted to begin questioning the men now, but Quinlan refused. "It would take us at least an hour to find all of them, and all have been told by their commander to be here at dawn. I know you won't sleep, but at least sit down, Connor. I know what you're going through. In your place, I would be raging inside too, but it's important that you stay clearheaded so you can find her."

Connor knew he was right. It was impossible to close his eyes, but he did eventually sit down. Quinlan fell asleep in one of the chairs near the entrance. Connor ordered him to go upstairs and sleep in one of the bedrooms. His friend didn't want to leave, of course, but as soon as the suggestion was given as an order, he was forced to obey.

For the rest of the night, Connor sat alone at the table in the darkness, waiting for dawn to arrive. He pictured every possible horror that could happen to his gentle wife until his mind rebelled and he simply couldn't take any more.

It was the longest night of his life.

The following day wasn't much better. He and Alec took turns questioning every soldier who had been left behind to guard their laird's fortress. No one knew anything that could help them.

Connor was going to leave for home to question his own people in the hope that Brenna might have said something to one of the servants that would help him find her, and as impatient as he was to get going, he also wanted to hear what each Kincaid soldier had to say.

The soldiers in charge of the drawbridge entered the hall just as Quinlan stepped forward to offer a suggestion. "Could she have gone to Faith?"

Connor rejected the possibility. "She didn't know her sister was in any danger. By the way, where did you put Faith, Alec?"

His brother didn't know what he was talking about. Quinlan explained while Connor continued to pace about the room.

Jamie came into the hall and sat at the table to listen to what the soldiers told her husband.

"Of course Brenna knew. I would know if anything happened to my sister. How she found out isn't important now. Oh, Lord, the medallion," Jamie cried out. She ran over to Connor. "I thought she lost it, but when the priest gave it back to her, he told me it had never been lost at all. Don't you understand? Brenna must have sent Father Sinclair to her sister. She gave him the medallion to show Faith so she would know she was to do whatever the priest instructed her to do. I knew Brenna was clever, but this amazes me. I know I wouldn't have thought of it."

Alec questioned his men then, a strenuous undertaking because of Connor's ranting and raving, and in little time at all they knew how Brenna'd managed to leave.

Only one priest was reported coming inside the keep under Douglas's watch, but two priests had left when Niell was in charge.

Connor weighed the damnation of his soul for eternity against the temporary pleasure he would get if he throttled a man of the cloth.

"With your permission, Laird?" Niell asked.

"What is it?"

"I don't think the priest knew she was following him. He went out first, riding his speckled gelding, and pulling the reins of a packhorse behind him. The second priest walked well behind the horses."

"And you didn't think this was peculiar behavior?" Alec roared.

"He was small, Laird. I thought he was yet to be ordained and that he was required to walk as penance."

"Now all we have to do is find out where the priest was going," Alec said.

"Dunkady Abbey," Jamie blurted out.

"You're certain?" Connor asked.

"Yes," she answered.

"If he was telling the truth," her husband said.

"For heaven's sake, Alec. He's a man of God. Of course he was telling the truth."

"I'll leave immediately," Connor said.

"I'm going with you," Alec and Jamie both announced at the same time.

Connor shook his head. "I have to do this alone."

"Not without your men, you don't," Alec warned.

Because he didn't want to waste time arguing with his brother, he told Quinlan to go to the keep and get the others. "You can catch up with me," he told him.

The monastery was only a short day's ride away by his measure. If Brenna was riding the packhorse, God only knew how long it would take her to get there.

He forced himself to block all thoughts but one. He had to get to his own sweet Brenna. He was lost without her.

Brenna was inconsolable. She couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and couldn't stop crying long enough to make any sense to her sister.

Faith soon threw her hands up in despair. After she handed Brenna a dry cloth to wipe away her tears, she tossed the soaked square in the laundry box with the others, and then sat down next to her sister on the narrow cot in her bedroom. For what she swore was going to be the last time, she tried to get her sister to listen to reason.

"You really have to stop this mourning. We've already been thrown out of chapel because you were making so much noise."

"We weren't thrown out. We were just encouraged to go back to our rooms."

"What about dear Father Sinclair? He can't pay attention to his daily vespers, thanks to you. Why won't you listen to us? You told me you love your husband."

"Don't you understand? He made his choice when he left me. He doesn't want me or my love. He never did. She's part of his past, and he's never going to let go of what happened. No, I can't go back. It would hurt too much."

The need to blow her nose ended her protests. Faith still didn't understand. "You never used to cry. If loving someone makes a woman miserable, I swear I'm never going to fall in love. I wish I never had to get married either. For the love of God, will you stop crying? Perhaps if you went back and tried once more… If you told him how you feel…"

"He knows how I feel even though I didn't give him my declaration. He's intelligent, Faith. And so am I," she added. "I know when I'm not wanted. I can't talk about this anymore."

"What if he comes for you?"

She shook her head. "He won't."

"But what if he does?"

She let out a sigh. "I would think his pride forced him to come here. I wouldn't go back with him. Can't we talk about something else?"

Faith ignored her suggestion. "Gillian might not let you come back with us. Then what will you do? Stay in the abbey for the rest of your life, making these poor monks miserable?"

"My brother won't deny me. Did I tell you Connor doesn't even know how many brothers and sisters I have?"

"Yes, you've mentioned that fact to me about a hundred times now. You want children, don't you? If you go back…"

"I do want children, but I'm not about to leave them with Connor."

"Now what are you talking about? Go back to him, Brenna. Please, before it's too late. He's your husband."

"Must you nag me?"

Faith decided she had pressed enough for the moment. "Perhaps some fresh air will make you feel better. Let's go outside and stroll about the gardens."

"If we stray from the path, we aren't on sacred ground anymore."

"I don't understand."

"The path in front of the abbey. There's a wooden cross where it ends on the south side and another on the north side. If we step off the path, we aren't safe. I think we should just stay here. Besides, Gillian should be here any time now if Father Sinclair's estimation was right."

"If you insist on hiding here, then we'll hide. At least pull the fur coverings off the windows so the sun can come inside. It's like a tomb in here." Faith didn't wait for her sister to agree or disagree with her. She ran to the window, unhooked the cotton loops, and pulled the thick fur down.

Closing her eyes against the bright sun, she reached behind her head and lifted her hair away from the nape of her neck. "The breeze feels wonderful," she whispered, her face aglow with pleasure. She stayed silhouetted against the light until her arms began to ache. And then she looked out at the landscape.

"Oh… my… God… they're… they're… huge."

"Is something wrong?" Brenna asked.

Mesmerized by the sight before her, Faith couldn't even manage a nod. At the northern end of the abbey were giants for as far as the eye could see. Faith guessed at least forty men rode with the fierce-looking warrior who had separated himself from the others and had ridden closer to the path. Every one of the men was bare-kneed and would have been bare-chested as well if it weren't for the wide strip of material that was pulled up from one side of his waist and draped over his opposite shoulder. Some of them were scarred; others were not. All of them were in dire need of a good scrubbing, haircuts, and decent clothes.

Saints above, they were savages.

Faith whirled around. "You can't possibly go back. Thank heavens you came to your senses. No, no, you can't go back to your husband. You should live with Gillian. He'll be happy to have you. He loves you dearly. Why didn't you tell me they were… they were… Oh, Brenna, how did you ever manage to stay alive all this while?"

"What are you rambling about?"

Worried she might come to the window and see who was outside, Faith frantically shook her head. Her sister had had enough upsets to last her a lifetime. The proof was there for anyone to see. She had a scar on her forehead, and another on her arm.

In her haste to make amends because she hadn't had any idea what Brenna had been up against, she stammered out her apology. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know… until I saw them, I didn't know. No, it's out of the question."

"What's out of the question?" Brenna asked. She stood up to join her sister at the window.

Faith ran over to her and shoved her back down on the cot. Then she raced to the door and threw the lock into place.

"It's out of the question to… to go outside. Yes, it's out of the question. My, but it's gotten chilly in here. I believe I'll put the fur back up."

She went back to the window and peeked out, hoping she had only imagined the savages were there. No, they were there all right, looking just as frightening as before.

Her hands shook while she tried to rehook the loops. "Brenna, tell me what your husband looks like."

"Why?"

"I'm curious, that's all," she answered. She stared at the leader and tried to finish rehanging the fur at the same time. He really was scary.

"He's handsome."

"You're jesting."

"No, I'm not. He is handsome."

"But what exactly does he look like? Describe him for me."

"Dark hair and eyes, a straight nose. He's tall, and very strong. Does that satisfy you?"

"Long hair?"

"All the MacAlister men have long hair. What are you looking at?"

"Father Sinclair," she answered, which wasn't a lie, because the priest was running down the path toward the warrior in front of the other savages. Father should have been running the other way, shouldn't he? Surely he noticed they were all armed for battle.

Brenna went to the water basin to wash her face and hands. "If Father's outside, it's safe for us to go out. He won't let you wander off the path."

"Was it safe for the two of you to come here without an escort?"

"No, but it was necessary. It isn't now. Besides, I was dressed as a monk, and all the Highlanders respect men of the cloth. None would harm them. Right now, however, you are the one I'm concerned about. Once you make up your mind to do something, you do it, no matter what the risk, and if you decide to pick flowers up on the hill, I know Father won't let you."

"You taught me how to take a risk," Faith protested. "Oh, dear, the fur just fell out the window."

Leaning out, she watched the covering drop down with a shush to land on the stone path just a step away from the priest. Startled by the near miss, Sinclair glanced up at the window.

"I'm so sorry, Father. It slipped," she called out before she jumped back so he wouldn't lecture her in front of the savages. Besides, she knew she was going to laugh, and she really didn't want to hurt the priest's feelings.

He heard her, of course, and so did the MacAlisters. Everyone but Quinlan pretended not to notice. He grinned with obvious approval.

Curious, Crispin turned to him. "You find her amusing?"

"I find her enchanting."

Crispin shook his head to let his friend know he thought he was demented. Quinlan nodded, and then declared his intention, "I mean to have her."

"She'll run from you."

"I hope so. It wouldn't be any fun if she didn't. She's bonny, isn't she?"

"Marriage?"

"Eventually."

Connor suddenly raised his hand. His friends thought he wanted them to be silent so that he could hear what the priest was telling him. Then their laird gave the signal to let them know the enemy was near. He simply put his hand on the hilt of his sword. Englishmen were approaching.

Gillian and his soldiers were coming up the hill. From the sound their horses made, Connor estimated approximately sixty soldiers rode with their baron. Crispin and Quinlan immediately moved to flank their laird to protect him from an attack from either side.

Father Sinclair didn't notice the MacAlisters were tensed to fight. He was explaining once again that he hadn't helped Brenna leave the Kincaid holding, hadn't had the slightest inkling that she had such a plan in mind, and it was only after they had entered the forest and she called out to him that he knew she was chasing after him.

"Don't you ever look behind you?" Connor asked.

"Not when I'm on your land or Kincaid's, because I know I'm safe. I assure you I took every precaution once your wife alerted me to her presence. I tried to talk her into going back, but she wouldn't listen to me, Laird. I couldn't let her go on without me, could I?"

Connor shook his head. "You have assured me she's all right, and that's all I care about now. Tell her to come to me."

"She'll deny the request," he said. "I'll try, of course."

"She won't deny me." He took his dagger from his belt and cut the threads Jamie had used to sew the medallion to the side of his plaid. "Give her this."

The priest accepted the medallion with a nod. "And your message?"

"The medallion is my message. She'll understand. She can't deny me, Father."

"If you leave your sword at the door, you could come inside," he offered.

Connor's answer was to suggest the priest look behind him.

"Oh, Good Lord. Gillian's here. I'll hurry," he whispered. "Don't do anything rash before I return."

"We won't," Connor assured him, "unless, of course, we're provoked."

The priest picked up the hem of his robe and went racing back toward the abbey.

"You might as well stop brushing your hair, Brenna. Father's coming back inside. He's running, as a matter of fact. I wonder…Uh oh."

"What's wrong?"

"Gillian's here."

Brenna dropped her brush and sat down on the cot. The time had come for her to leave the Highlands forever. Oh, God, why did it hurt so much?

Tears gathered in her eyes. She bowed her head in surrender and began to pray. "Why is this so hard?" she cried out. She doubled over and rocked back and forth, acting as though the pain were physical now instead of inside her heart.

Faith didn't know what she could say to her. "I don't know, Brenna. If I could help you, I would. Your husband might be able to make you feel better."

"No."

"He's here, Brenna."

Other than straightening up again until she was rigid, she didn't say anything or show any other reaction.

"Surely that means…"

"He's here because of his pride."

"I knew you'd say that," Faith said. She leaned back out the window and waved to her brother. Gillian and his men all looked so shiny and new in their hauberks and helmets. She turned then and looked at the MacAlisters again. They looked… "Like savages."

"Come away from the window."

"I think I should wave to your husband. It would be rude to ignore him. I already waved to Gillian, and I shouldn't slight him."

"I assure you he won't care."

She waved anyway. "He didn't wave back. Gillian did."

"Get away from there," Brenna demanded.

"Come and look."

"No."

A knock sounded at the door, followed by loud panting. Father Sinclair had run up the steps to get to Brenna's room.

Faith let him in. "She won't go out to him, Father. I tried to convince her, but she refuses to have anything to do with him."

The priest nodded before he rushed over to the cot. "Your husband told me you would come to him, mi'lady. He was certain this would force you to," he added as he dropped the medallion into her lap.

She stared at the wooden disk a long minute without saying a word. Faith wanted a closer look at it and reached down to pick it up. Brenna snatched it up before her sister could touch it.

She stood up and stormed over to the window. She wanted to throw the medallion out because he dared to use it now when it was too late but stubbornly refused to wear it before.

Then she saw him. "He looks tired," she whispered.

"You have to go, mi'lady. A fight's inevitable unless you let your husband know you are either going to go back with him or go with Gillian."

She stepped away from the window and walked to the door. "My brother doesn't know I'm here."

"That doesn't matter," he countered. He followed her out the door and down the steps. "Your husband knows you're here. Gillian might think he wants to take your sister."

"I have a sure way to make him go back to his fortress," Brenna said.

"Tell me," Faith demanded, running to catch up with her sister.

"I'll simply ask him if he loves me. He won't be able to say he does, and he'll realize then I should return to England."

"What if he doesn't realize it?" her sister asked.

"He won't do anything I don't want him to do as long as I tell him no."

"Have you forgotten how big your husband is? He can get whatever he wants."

"No means no to him."

"You love him, don't you, lass," Father said.

"Yes. I love him, but it isn't enough."

The priest reached for the door, yet didn't pull it open. "Faith, please go outside first. Run to your brother and stay with him so he'll know the MacAlisters aren't a threat."

"Do you think Gillian's soldiers would harm the Highlanders?"

"No, but I'm certain the MacAlisters would kill all of them without breaking a sweat. They can be ruthless when they want to be, and Lord only knows, they'll easily overpower them."

"But there are twice as many…"

"Number means nothing to them. I've seen them fight, and I assure you, I know what I'm talking about."

"I'll do as you say," she promised. She hurried outside, ran to her brother, and hugged him. She spent several minutes listening to him tell her how Brenna's husband had sent men to their mother to protect her from MacNare. He also added that their mother had taken a fancy to the leader of the band and actually hoped he'd come back.

Faith gave him her full attention until Brenna walked outside.

"You can tell me more after I go inside and get my clothing," she said, and though she had every intention of doing just that, she ended up following Brenna instead. Her sister looked so vulnerable and alone. Faith wanted only to protect her from further heartache, and Gillian would just have to be patient a little longer.

He could wait a few more minutes, couldn't he? "I'll be right there, Gillian," she called out. "I just want to meet Brenna's husband first."

Before her brother could deny her, she picked up the hem of her skirts and hurried toward the MacAlisters.

Father Sinclair was detained by the monks hanging out the windows on the first floor. He had to reassure each one that a battle wasn't about to be fought on sacred ground and it was perfectly all right for all of them to return to their duties.

"It's just a family reunion," he explained, and heaven help him, he told the half-truth without laughing once.

Faith didn't speak to any of the monks, but she did wave to all of them. Several, caught up in her enthusiasm, waved back. As she neared the end of the path, one of the MacAlisters caught her attention. She had the peculiar feeling he expected her to do or say something, and though he didn't motion to her, or give her any other sign, she couldn't shrug off the feeling he wanted something from her.

All of the warriors kept her brother's soldiers under close scrutiny. Brenna, she noticed, had suddenly stopped. Faith thought she was having second thoughts about talking to her husband and decided to help her make up her mind. She caught up with her, took hold of her hand, and gave her a tug to get her moving again.

Brenna wasn't paying any attention to her sister. Her gaze was on her husband. It was sheer agony for her to be so close to the man she loved and know she could never be with him again. Didn't he realize he was tormenting her by coming here? Her heart felt as though it were being shredded apart.

She stopped once again before she reached the end of the path. Faith let go of her hand and stepped behind her sister.

A full minute passed without a word being spoken while husband and wife stared at one another. Once again, Faith decided to help. She gave her sister a little shove.

Brenna ignored her. She took a deep breath, held up the medallion, and said, "This used to belong to you, Connor."

"It still belongs to me, Brenna. And so do you. Now and forever."

She shook her head. "It's too hard," she cried out.

He removed his sword, handed it to Crispin before he dismounted, and walked forward.

"I'll make it easy for you. Please don't cry. I know I hurt you."

The priest rushed forward to offer a cloth to Brenna. One look from Connor made him change his mind. He backed away, turned around, and strolled toward Gillian.

Brenna felt as though the world were intruding on her now. When he took hold of her hand and walked down the path toward the gardens, she didn't pull away from him. She kept her head down and thought to wait until they had some privacy before she said good-bye to him.

The lack of privacy didn't bother him at all. "I know I hurt you. I should have protected you from Raen. I will have to live with my mistake for the rest of my life. I don't expect you to forgive me, Brenna, but I…"

"You aren't responsible for what happened. I should have told you what he was doing. I meant to, but you left before I could get up the nerve. Then he left, and I thought he wouldn't come back. It doesn't matter now anyway. You made your choice when you went to Euphemia."

He looked astonished. "Will it make you feel any better to know she's dead?"

"Good Lord, no."

"All right then," he said. "Does knowing that I didn't banish her as I intended make you realize I was considerate of your feelings?"

She turned to look at him. Connor didn't know how much longer he was going to be able to keep himself from taking her into his arms. He was determined that she willingly come to him, and he knew, if he didn't move away from her now, he would lose his battle. He let go of her hand, sat down on the stone wall, and waited for her to join him.

She moved closer, until she stood between his outstretched legs. "What happened to Euphemia?"

"I'll have to tell you about my father's legacy so that you will understand, but it's a long story. Do you want to hear it?"

There was an overwhelming sadness about him now that tugged at her heart. The strength seemed to go out of him as well. His head was down, his shoulders sagged from the weight he had borne all these many years, and she could feel the ache of his melancholy.

"Do you want to tell me?"

"Yes," he answered in desperation.

She took a step closer. "Please tell me now," she whispered.

He looked relieved. "I know that Lothar told you about the ruins, and that they would be torn down after I had avenged my father. I want to tell you how he died and what he said to me."

"He told me you were there during the massacre, and that you were just a boy. I would like you to tell me what happened, but only if you want to. Do you?"

Connor nodded.

"He didn't die easy…"

The past poured out of him in halting, broken sentences. He remembered all of it, remembered the fear he had felt and the hopelessness. She pictured him as a young boy, crawling over burning embers, clutching his father's heavy sword to his heart, and she was in awe of him, for he had more courage and honor than a hundred noble knights. No wonder she loved him so much.

"My father's demand to avenge him became my obsession," he ended.

She nodded to let him know she understood. "I have a question to ask you."

"Yes?"

"Would you demand from your son what your father demanded of you?"

He didn't hesitate in answering. "If there was a chance that the murderers would come back, I would warn my son to protect himself, and I would tell him to find out who they were so he would know his enemy's name. I would not want to die worrying that he and his family might one day be destroyed, but I would not ask him or demand that he avenge me, Brenna. No, I would never ask that of my son."

He didn't know that his answer had just reclaimed her future.

He put his hands out in front of him so she could see the scars on his fingers and palms. "This is my inheritance. I can't remove these marks from me, and I can't change what I am."

She took hold of his hands and kissed each palm. "Your hands are beautiful. Whenever you're overburdened or worried, you have only to look at your hands to remember that you are a man of honor and courage, for that is what these scars represent."

"A wife doesn't run away from an honorable man. I failed you."

She shook her head. "You didn't fail me. I thought you could never leave the past, and I was also afraid that you would give your son such a burden. I didn't give up hope until you went to Euphemia. I thought you chose her over me, and it became too much for me to accept. Why did you send her away?"

"Because she hurt you. Don't you have any idea how much you mean to me? When I was told what Raen did, I went into a rage. I wanted only to rid our home of the scum before you and I returned. I couldn't bear the thought of bringing such a pure heart into such a foul presence. That's why I wanted to send her away. I considered killing her."

"The MacAlisters don't kill women."

"No, we don't," he agreed. "I was going to banish her. I never wanted her to call herself a MacAlister again or dare to wear my colors. Euphemia had already left the holding, but only just barely. When I discovered her trail, I followed her so I could end it. Then I saw her embrace MacNare."

"She was the traitor," she gasped.

"Yes."

"What happened then?"

"I'll explain everything later. You told me I only had to open my heart. Do you remember?"

"I remember."

He put his hands on either side of her waist and pulled her closer. "You were asking me to love you, weren't you? I should have told you then."

"Tell me what?"

"That I love you."

She shook her head. "No, you only want…"

"I love you," he said again. Tears streamed down her face. He gently wiped them away for her and pulled her tight against him. "I know you love me. Why didn't you tell me? Were you afraid?"

"I didn't tell you how I felt because I knew you didn't love me. Yes, I was afraid, but you weren't afraid, were you?"

He leaned close to her. "Yes, I was. Brenna, you scared the hell out of me. If I loved you, I became vulnerable. What would happen to me if you died? And then it was too late. I couldn't protect myself from you, but once I realized I loved you, I felt reborn inside. One of us will surely die before the other, but the memories will sustain the one left behind. You know what?"

"What?" she whispered.

"I'm never going to let you go. I know you deserve far more than I can ever give you. It doesn't matter, though. You're mine."

She pushed against his chest. "You aren't going to kiss me yet. You're going to have to tell me you're sorry first."

"Because I failed to protect you." It wasn't a question but a statement of fact. He let go of her, looked into her eyes, and tried to find the words that would redeem him.

"No, you didn't fail me. You did break my heart though. How dare you tell me to give you a son and then go back to England. It was a cruel thing to say to me, and I still cannot understand why you would hurt me like that."

"You were mourning your family," he explained. "And I wanted to give you something to look forward to," he added. "And so I…"

"You what?" she demanded.

He had the audacity to grin while he admitted his sin to her. "I lied."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You lied to me?"

"You can't really believe I would let you go back to England."

"Don't you dare laugh at me. I did believe you. You shouldn't have lied. That was wrong." The sparkle in her eyes made a mockery of her attempt to make him feel guilty. "Have you lied about anything else?"

He shrugged. "Probably."

"You must stop it at once."

"I lied when I had Jamie tell you I was going to Euphemia. Actually, I guess I didn't lie. I did go to her, but only because she was with MacNare."

Her hand flew to her throat, so stunned was she by his casual remark. "You went to…"

"Later, sweetheart. Are you going to let me kiss you now?"

"No," she replied. "You're going to let me kiss you. Things are going to change. From this moment on, when you leave our home, you will have the good sense to tell me first. If I ever wake up again and find out you've left, I'll hunt you down, and God help you then."

"Ah, lass, you do love me, don't you?"

"You're going to wear your medallion too. I mean what I say."

"I can't wear it around my neck. It becomes a weapon then," he explained. "If you sew it into my plaid, I'll wear it. Will that satisfy you?"

His wife looked radiant. "I want you to change the doors inside our home. It's safe for you, but I have to go out the back way because I can't open them."

"All right, I'll change them."

"I want to ride the black."

"No."

She put her arms around his neck and leaned close to him. "Will you think about it?"

"No."

She was laughing when he finally helped her remember she was going to kiss him. His mouth took absolute possession, and for long minutes, he showed her how much he loved her. She was far more aggressive than he was, and it was only when he forced her to stop that she remembered where she was.

She wept against the side of his neck while he whispered tender, loving words to her, and when at last he insisted they go home, he had to wait until she finished crying before she gave him her agreement.

He draped his arm around her shoulders and led her back to the main path.

"Will we sleep outside tonight?"

"We won't sleep," he replied. "But if you want to stay outside tonight, we will."

"Yes. You look tired."

"So do you. Brenna, don't ever put me through this torment again. Promise me you won't leave me, no matter what happens."

"I promise you. Come and meet my sister. What in heaven's name is she doing? She's entirely too close to the end of the path. None of the MacAlisters would…"

"Quinlan would."

"What are you saying?"

"If she steps off the path, he's got her. That's what I'm saying."

"Make him stop staring at her."

"Your sister doesn't seem to mind. She's staring back. She keeps moving closer to him too."

"Faith, come over here," Brenna shouted.

Her sister ignored her. "Connor, make Quinlan and Crispin come here."

"I can ask, but neither one of them will come. As far as they're concerned, their duty has already been determined. They're protecting us, sweetheart. You should be proud of their restraint."

"Why should I be proud of them?"

"They want to kill the English, of course."

Dear heavens, she'd forgotten about Gillian. "You must come and meet my brother."

"No."

"If he comes to you, will you meet him then?"

He shrugged before he gave her his conditions. "If he's armed, I'll have to take him aside and discuss the insult with him."

She knew what that meant. "He won't be armed," she rushed out. "I'll go get him."

"No."

The force behind the denial told her she wasn't going to get him to change his mind. Father Sinclair came to her aid. A moment later, Gillian joined them at the center of the path. Like Connor, he was also unarmed.

Her husband didn't particularly want her to embrace her brother, but he didn't make an issue of it.

While she thanked Gillian for coming to get Faith, Father Sinclair went to fetch their sister. He got to her in the nick of time, he realized, when Quinlan winked at her. The priest grabbed her before she stepped off the path.

"You may say good-bye to the MacAlisters in a few minutes, Faith. Your sister would appreciate your help in gaining Gillian's cooperation."

"Is Brenna's husband cooperating?"

"No, no, of course not, but both Brenna and I know he will never cooperate with an Englishman. He hasn't killed him, though, and we must all appreciate the control he is showing for his wife's benefit."

Faith shook her head but quickened her step until she was running.

"I'm sorry I took so long, Gillian."

Her brother's response was to push her behind him. She took immediate exception and pushed him back. Then she ran to her sister and sat down on the wall next to her.

The two men continued to face each other as adversaries.

Brenna became impatient in no time at all. "Gillian, aren't you happy to see me?"

He finally stopped staring at Connor long enough to look at her. "Yes, of course I am. Are you coming home with me?"

"No. I'm going home with my husband. We are married, Gillian, and I assure you, I'm very happy. Tell Father I forgive him for sending me to MacNare."

"He didn't know what the bastard was capable of, Brenna. He also doesn't know you're married."

Faith explained before Brenna could ask any questions. "He thinks you're living in sin," she whispered so her sister's husband wouldn't overhear.

Father Sinclair stepped forward. "It was a proper ceremony, Gillian, with the church's blessing."

"Did you marry them?" Gillian asked.

"I did."

His blue eyes bore into the priest. It was obvious he was trying to decide if he should believe him or not.

"Gillian, please tell Mother I'm sorry she and Father weren't able to attend my wedding."

Her brother once again turned to her. "Were you married in a church?"

"We were married in one of God's most beautiful chapels. No expense was spared. There were flowers everywhere, and in every color imaginable. I entered the chapel under a canopy of green branches that were so fresh and new, dew still clung to them and sparkled like jewels against the flickering lights above. The scent of heather surrounded us while we pledged ourselves to one another. Both Connor and I were finely adorned in the most magnificent of robes, and when the ceremony was properly blessed, we attended our wedding feast."

Her eyes were misty with her recollection, and the joy her brother saw as she gave the details only a woman would remember convinced him that she had indeed been properly wed. It was also apparent that she was happy.

"The wedding was magical, wasn't it, Father?" The priest was overcome by her recitation. He dabbed at the corners of his eyes with the edge of his sleeve, nodded several times, and said, "Aye, lass, it was magical, and meant to be. Do you realize, Baron, that if it weren't for Laird MacAlister, your sister probably wouldn't be alive today."

"Yes, I realize it."

It was all he was willing to give. Brenna found his acknowledgment satisfying. Connor couldn't have cared less. His wife's memory of their wedding had overwhelmed him, and all he wanted to do was get her alone and tell her how proud he was of her.

"Brenna, it's time to go home."

"Yes, Connor."

She stood up, went to her brother, and kissed him on his cheek. "I love you, Gillian."

"I love you too, Brenna. Make him take care of you."

"He does take good care of me. He loves me, Gillian, and I love him."

"I can see you do."

The two men stared at each other for a long silent moment. Brenna stood between them, waiting for them to acknowledge each other.

Gillian finally conceded. He bowed his head to her husband. Connor inclined his head then to him.

It was as good as it was going to get, Brenna knew, and even though they were both arrogant and stubborn, she still loved them.

Connor put his arm around his wife and turned to leave.

"Just one minute, Laird," Faith called out. She went around her brother's back so he couldn't detain her and chased after Brenna and Connor.

"Laird, do you know how many brothers and sisters your wife has?"

Brenna nudged him so he would answer. "My wife is the seventh of eight in the family. You're the youngest, aren't you?"

"Yes. Do you know their names?"

"Faith, it isn't necessary to…"

"Yes, it is necessary. We're important to you, and therefore we should be important to your husband, shouldn't we?"

"Come here, Faith."

She didn't even think about refusing him. She hurried forward and looked up into his eyes. "Yes?"

"Yes, Laird," Brenna corrected.

"He's my brother now. Must I still call him Laird?"

"You know perfectly well you must until he gives you permission to drop the title, which I might add, he hasn't done yet. We were raised in the same household."

Faith laughed. "Very well. My question wasn't answered yet, Laird. Would you like me to tell you the names of our brothers and sisters?"

"That isn't necessary. There's Gillian, William, Arthur, Matilda, whom you call Mattie, Joan, Rachel, my wife, and you."

"You knew… all the while, you knew who they were?" Brenna asked.

"Yes."

"Then why didn't you let me talk about them?"

"Because you were mourning your family. Talking about them wouldn't have made you feel any better. I also wanted your loyalty. I believe I already explained this to you."

She leaned against him. "You may explain it again when we get home. Faith, it's time to say good-bye. I'll miss you."

Her sister hugged her. "I shall miss you more. Laird, I forgot to thank you. Gillian told me you sent men to my home to protect me from MacNare."

"You sent soldiers to my parents? They went into England?"

Brenna was staggered.

"Yes, he did," Faith assured her. "Mother liked the soldiers. Father wasn't there, but he was pleased when he heard the lengths your husband had gone to to protect me. I was wondering…"

"Yes?" Connor asked. Neither his wife nor her sister realized they were walking toward the end of the sanctuary. Quinlan certainly noticed, if his grin was a true indicator. Knowing his friend as well as he did, Connor was certain he had already counted the number of steps Faith would have to take to leave the sanctuary of the church and become fair game.

"Are the others here? I wanted to tell the man in charge thank you too, but I don't know his name."

"His name is Quinlan. He will soon be laird over his uncle's clan, now that his duty to me has ended, and yes, he is here, Faith. He's watching you even now."

She immediately looked up at Quinlan and took another step toward him.

"My brother told me what you did. My father will want to thank you for coming to his home to protect me. I thank you too, Quinlan, with all my heart."

Her Gaelic was music to his ears, and unlike her sister's, her command of his language was remarkable.

He didn't speak to her, but he bowed his head in acknowledgment. Lord above, when she smiled, she had dimples.

"Apparently, my mother has taken quite a fancy to you. I hear that she wonders if you will ever come back."

Connor heard what she said and looked up at his friend. "She makes it almost too easy for you, doesn't she?"

Quinlan laughed. "Aye, she does."

Neither Brenna nor Faith understood what Connor had meant by his question. What would be easy?

Faith was just about to leave when Quinlan spoke to her. "Tell your mother I will be coming back. She has something I want."

She wanted to ask him to explain, but felt it would be impolite of her to question him any further. "Then perhaps I will see you again. I don't plan to marry for at least two years, no matter how much my father disagrees. I'm old enough, of course, but I've realized I'm hopelessly spoiled, and since I don't have any intention of changing, I will have to find a baron who will promise to pamper me, and that's going to take time. If I have already wed before you arrive, then please remember how thankful I am to you. Good-bye, Quinlan. I hope God watches over you."

She made a perfect curtsy to show her respect, kissed Brenna and her husband farewell, much to Connor's astonishment, then turned and went running back to her scowling brother.

"I'm going to miss Faith most of all," Brenna admitted.

"You'll probably see her again," he said.

"I doubt that," she replied. "I'm sorry Quinlan will be leaving us. Will Crispin be given command each time you're called away?"

"No, he'll go to Hugh's holding. They have asked me to assign someone to become their leader. They need Crispin, and he will be pleased as well."

He lifted his wife onto the black, swung up behind her, and then leaned down close to her ear and told her again how much he loved her.

"We're starting over again, aren't we?"

"If it makes you happy to think we are, then I won't argue with you. It will be easier, however, because I will remember always to be thoughtful."

"You already are thoughtful, and is it any wonder at all why I love you? I was wondering…"

"Yes?"

"I would like to ride bareback again, and if you rode with me, could I ride one of the other horses?"

"If you agree to stay inside the fortress when you ride bareback, I will grant this request. Do you see how I can be accommodating, wife?"

"Yes, I do," she agreed. "And since you're in such a wonderful mood…"

"Yes?"

"About the chapel…"