Claimed by a Laird (25 page)

Grateful for the reprieve, she exhaled in relief. Her belly
tightened again and she rubbed it, praying it was only more false labor
contractions.

“I will have the midwife at the ready, Anna,” James stated
in English as he touched her arm.

Anna stopped, a chill running up her spine. “You will not
touch my child,” she warned through clenched teeth. “I will die first.”

He sighed and shook his head as though she were
addle-brained. “I am not cruel, my love. We will send it to the convent once
it’s born and I will avenge your dishonor.”

James reached up to caress her cheek, but Anna flinched and
stepped back. “Don’t touch me.”

A sinister flash of anger crossed his face. “Be careful,
Anna. Not cooperating with me will have consequences. For you and the brat.”

He barked in Gaelic to the servant girl to continue into the
keep with Anna and then turned his back on them to walk away.

She bit her lower lip, her lids moist with tears.

Galen, please, hurry home…

Restless, barely-checked rage coursed through Galen’s veins
as he stood from his crouched position in the woods near his clan’s burial
grounds. He lifted his eyes from the tuft of Dog’s fur at the base of the tree
to Geoffrey, who ran toward him.

“They carried her out of here on a wagon of some sort,” the
young man breathlessly reported as he stopped next to John and several of
Galen’s warriors. “They headed south.”

Galen’s heart froze like a block of ice and it took every
ounce of his control to not roar his anguish into the silent forest. It was bad
enough he’d had to worry about Anna dying in labor all these months. But now
that she had been taken by the Gowrie, he was plunged into a maddening darkness
he had never experienced before.

“Find me a fresh horse,” he commanded. “I am going to get my
wife.”

To his complete disbelief, his brother defiantly shook his
head. “The Camerons will meet us halfway to Gowrie lands.”

John nodded. “And, if all goes well, Adam and Gabriel will
be back with the Sinclairs and the MacBains just after nightfall. You should
wait.”

“Wait?” Galen shouted in incredulity, every muscle in his
body contracting painfully. “The Gowrie has my wife and you tell me to
wait
?”

“Yes, damn it.” John crossed his arms and stared at his
young cousin. “What good are you dead to your poor, wee wife? Besides, she
would strangle me with her own two hands if I allowed you to go into battle outnumbered
by the Gowrie and his allies.”

“The longer I wait, the more likely it is she will be dead,”
Galen replied, his stomach twisting as if a blade had been thrust into it.

No one spoke as he stared at each of them in turn. He shook
his head.

“If that is the case then it does not matter what happens to
me,” he muttered as he turned his back on the men and walked away.

The oddity of that last thought stopped him in his tracks.
He stared at the ground as Anna’s cheerful smile floated across his memory and
then faded, leaving a dark emptiness within him. As he envisioned his future
without her, he saw nothing and his heart seemed strangely absent from his
chest.

A brief flash of the pain on his father’s face when Galen’s
mother’s lifeless body had been carried into the courtyard flew through his
mind. Is this what had happened to his father? Had he loved his mother so much
his own heart had died with her, turning Malcolm into a heartless shell of a
man?

Had he fallen in love with Anna?

A tentative hand gripped Galen’s shoulder and he turned to
find Geoffrey peering at him in concern.

“What reason would the Gowrie have to kill her?” his brother
asked. “From the sound of what was in his letter to her several months ago, he
seems to be under the impression you somehow stole her from him.”

Galen mulled Geoffrey’s words over in his mind. It made
sense that the Gowrie wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to kidnap Anna if his
only reason was so he could kill her. John was right, much to Galen’s
irritation. He should wait until his allies had arrived. He wasn’t thinking
clearly enough to formulate a plan on his own at this moment.

But one thought haunted him and caused him to question such
logic. “She is due to give birth to my child any day,” he whispered, unable to
keep the anguish out of his voice. “He may not intend to kill Anna, but what of
the babe? And what if she does not survive the birthing?”

Geoffrey nodded solemnly, the pained expression on his face
indicating he thought of those possibilities as well. “I know. All we can do is
pray.”

His younger brother seemed to age a decade before Galen’s
eyes. Under normal circumstances, he would have chuckled at the unusually
spiritual tone in Geoffrey’s voice, but he clenched his jaw and gave a clipped
nod.

“I would die for you. You know that, right?” Geoffrey
whispered, leaning toward him. “You saved me when no one else would. Your wife
and child will not be harmed unless it is over my dead body. You have my word.”

Galen couldn’t hold his brother’s earnest stare for long. He
swallowed the mixture of pain and gratitude toward Geoffrey threatening to
close his throat and simply nodded his thanks as he cast his eyes down the path
Anna had been dragged through the woods. During the past few months, Geoffrey
had blossomed under his and Adam’s guidance into a talented, fierce warrior
with a good head for strategy. If Galen were to be killed in this rescue,
Geoffrey would not stop fighting until Anna and the baby were safe.

* * * * *

“My lady,” a young, feminine voice hummed above her as her
shoulder was shaken. “My lady.”

Anna’s eyes fluttered open into the semi-darkness of the
room and she wearily pushed herself to sitting. The gentle pinkish-orange light
of dusk filtered around the furs covering the window. Her stomach growled. She
must have slept for most of the day.

She turned to find the young woman who had escorted her up
to this chamber looking down at her with a sweet, innocent smile.

The young woman stepped aside and waved in the young Gowrie
warrior whom she had tended after he’d been captured by the MacAirths.

“Before you speak, my lady,” his voice low, he hurriedly
stepped toward her, “I would ask that you use only English.”

Anna glanced toward the female servant who simply looked at
her pleasantly as if nothing out of the ordinary had been said.

“I know you speak our language, but no one else here does,”
the young man smiled as he extended his hand. “This girl does not speak English
and probably assumes I am greeting you and conveying to you our laird’s wish
for you to join him in the great hall.”

Anna forced a placid expression on her face and nodded as
she took his hand. She had indeed not said a word to the young woman as she
helped her to the chamber and brought her a little food earlier this morning.

The young warrior helped her to her feet and the woman
fussed with Anna’s hair and clothing. Anna glanced from the woman to the floor,
wincing as the woman’s hand brushed against the lump at the back of Anna’s
head.

When the servant finally nodded to the young man, he nodded
back and offered Anna his arm. She looked at him askance but took his arm,
allowing him to guide her out of the room.

“My name is Conn, my lady,” he whispered, looking straight
ahead. “I want you to know I realize just how much I am in your debt. It is the
only reason I volunteered to help with your abduction.”

Anna snorted. “Gee, thanks,” she snipped, her tongue a bit
ungainly after so many months speaking nothing but Gaelic.

“I had no intention of ever betraying you, my lady. I had no
idea you were ever married to my laird. When I heard of his plan, I volunteered
to go so I could ensure your safety.”

“Why didn’t you stop it?” She resisted the urge to push him
down the staircase they were about to descend.

“I did not know how,” he admitted. “There is no way I could
have overpowered the other warriors with me. And my cousin was set on his plan
to take you. I knew I had to do something, but I was not sure of what.”

Voices, laughter and the screech of heavy furniture being
shoved across the floor drifted up to them.

“I will make it up to you, my lady,” he earnestly whispered.
“I promise to help you get back home.”

She tilted her head at him, unable to help the curiosity
overwhelming her fear. “Why?”

“You saved my life.” He looked her in the eye before casting
his gaze straight ahead. “Besides, I have no love for my cousin. I am the
bastard son of the Gowrie laird who preceded James’ father, my uncle. My dear
uncle wanted my father’s title and murdered him. If I hadn’t been born a
bastard, I would be laird now. James and his father have never let me forget
just what I am.”

Anna nodded, wanting to believe Conn wished to help her and
was telling the truth. He seemed sincere, but she’d gotten into trouble
trusting a Gowrie before.

Her belly tightened and she bit her lower lip in fear as she
descended the stairs with her escort.

Servants and warriors swarmed in the great hall, the loud
din ringing in her ears. Some were gathered in groups and laughed while others
were engaged in shifting tables and benches into a new configuration or
sweeping the floor.

She couldn’t help but scan the room for James and, when her
eyes landed upon him, she nearly snorted out loud. Seated on a chair near the
fireplace, he had a curvaceous young blonde draped against his chest. With a
tankard of what Anna could only guess was ale in one hand and the woman’s
breast in the other, he threw back his head with a loud chortle at something
the woman whispered into his ear.

He dropped his lips to the woman’s tilted neck and kissed
her while his hand dipped into the neckline of her leine
.
Drawing her
breast out of her garment, he twirled her rosy nipple between his fingers as
she playfully slapped his chest and giggled.

Seemingly sensing her presence, James lifted his eyes and
caught Anna’s stare from where she and Conn stood at the bottom of the
staircase. James released the woman’s breast and whispered something into her
ear. The woman hopped from his lap and tucked her bulbous mound back into her
leine, flashing an annoyed glare in Anna’s direction. James patted her backside
and the blonde made her way into the shadows at the edge of the room.

“Come!” James ordered, motioning her and Conn forward.

Anna’s stomach churned in disgust when James reached for her
hand as they approached. She released Conn’s arm and he bowed before walking
away.

“Come sit, my love,” James said, patting the seat of the
chair next to his.

Her aching lower back coaxed her into doing exactly as he
instructed rather than argue with him. She sat, but ripped her hand from his in
annoyance.

He chuckled, leaning toward her on the arm of the chair.
“Feeling a wee bit jealous, eh? Not to worry, love. She is nothing more than
plaything and a man has certain needs. As soon as that brat is out of you and
the church has declared you clean, I will happily come to your bed.”

It took most of her willpower to ignore his statement. To
distract herself, she concentrated on the people milling about the room for
several minutes before speaking. “What is going on here?”

James tilted his head back and downed the rest of the ale
from his cup. He waved it in the air and a servant emerged from the shadows
with a pitcher to pour him more before disappearing.

“It is a celebration, of course. You have finally come
home.” He lifted her fingers to his lips to kiss them.

Lord, how she wanted to punch him in his arrogant face, but
how well she played along could mean life or death for her and her baby. She
willed her hand to go limp and he allowed it to drop back to the arm rest.

“It is not the proper wedding celebration you deserve, I
suppose, but I promise you a feast fit for a king when you deliver my first son
to me,” he commented, taking another swig of ale. “Oh yes, that reminds me. I
have quite the surprise for you, darling.”

“Excuse me, laird.” A young man stopped several feet in
front of them.

“What is it?” James snapped, a scowl covering his face.

The young man shifted nervously. “I beg your pardon, but
there is a group of traveling monks asking for refuge for the night. They are
on their way to the abbey on Iona.”

James waved him away in exasperation. “Yes, fine. Go.” He
turned back to Anna. “It is important for a laird to at least appear to be a
friend of the church, is it not?”

Sensing he expected her immediate agreement, she nodded.
Chills ran down her spine as a sinister smile curved his lips.

“Now then, I was going to wait until we broke our fast in
the morning to relay the good news to you, but I simply cannot wait any
longer.” He laced his fingers through hers and squeezed, a light expectancy
playing across his features. “Your father will be here on the morrow to meet
you.”

Anna stiffened as she took in his expression and tried to
guess what game he played now. “You know my father is not here.”

He shook his head and brought her hand up to his lips once
again as he stifled a laugh. “Yes, love. He is here and always has been. Why do
you think I went searching for you all those years ago?”

Startled, she froze, her eyes widening. “I-I don’t
understand.” She barely noticed warmth of his thin lips on her fingers.

He smiled and shook his head as if she were a simpleton. “It
was the amber stone, my love. The one you wore around your neck when my cousin
was captured by the MacAirth. It obviously brought you here to me, though,
unfortunately, you became entangled with the MacAirth instead. It was what
brought me to you ten years ago and what brought your father to your mother.”

She stared at the ground, attempting to put the pieces of
the puzzle together in her mind. How was all of this even possible?

James traced her index finger with his. “When I was a child,
I was fostered for a time with the Grahams. Your father was a frequent guest
there since he was a nephew of the laird. It was rumored that his mother—your
grandmother—inherited the stone and brought it into her marriage with the
Campbell. It was believed to have been enchanted by an old witch in Fannich
centuries ago and would bring wealth and luck to whomever possessed it.

“As you can imagine, such tales fascinated me as a child and
I took to watching your father very closely. He had announced he would be
departing one afternoon and so I followed him, hoping to get a glimpse of the
rumored stone as he packed his belongings. The last bit of sunlight filtered
through the window at sundown and caused the stone to glow brilliantly as your
father held it up before him. But then he did something very odd. He closed his
eyes and moved his lips in a bare whisper I could not understand. And then, he
vanished.”