Plead Forgiveness (Loyalty Series) (34 page)

He repeatedly told himself that if he did not
consummate their marriage vows this eve, he would risk losing her. She would be
given to Montgomery, who would relish in using and abusing her until she
eagerly awaited death.
Nae, I will nae lose her.

“Gavin. . .Gavin! Please, wait. . .I need. . . you
must-”

His heart lurched hearing her cries and feeling the
wetness on her cheeks from her tears.

The war between Gavin’s body and mind fought endlessly
against his heart. His body’s raging desire for her allied with his mind’s
knowledge that this was the only way to keep her safe. But, his heart. Dear God,
his heart bled to do her harm or cause her pain. His heart ached to hold her
close, kiss away her tears and banish her suffering.
She is my heart, and
this is the only way to keep her safe.

The decision was made; his body and mind were the
victors.

“Forgive me, my love,” he whispered a scant moment
before he thrust forcefully into her innocent body.

Ella screamed as she felt her body being torn, but it
was nothing compared to the angst that seared her heart. A raw, primitive grief
overwhelmed her as the shock of defeat held her immobile. No longer fighting.
No longer speaking. Wrapped in a cocoon of despair, she barely heard his words.

“Shhh, the pain will lessen soon,” he whispered as he
lay motionless, giving her body time to adjust to his.

A deep, unaccustomed pain ignited in Gavin’s chest at
hearing her cries of pain and feeling her body go rigid underneath him. Her
misery was so acute. And when she became mute and lifeless, his determination
almost faltered. He began to move slowly at first, then faster as the waves of
ecstasy enveloped his body.

The war between his body and heart raged once again,
as each euphoric thrust he made caused a slight whimper to escape from her
lips. As his body soared higher and higher towards its peak, his heart and soul
were drowning in a pool of sorrow. He welcomed the fiery explosion of
sensation, and let his body taste the all too empty pleasure.

When Gavin lay languid above her trembling body, he
knew his time to savor the union was over. He heard another gasp of pain as he
eased off her. He quickly lit the candles in the chamber, and then took his
first look at his bedded wife.

A new agony pierced his heart. Naked and trembling,
she curled her body into a tight ball as she turned away from him. And there
was blood. More than her virgin blood marred the pristine white bed linen. He
was prepared for the blood on her thighs, but assumed the bed would only be
sprinkled with the red liquid, not. . . .

His own stupidity was beyond reproach.

Half the lacerations on her back were bleeding
heavily, dripping down her shoulders and waist, saturating the once unspoiled
linen. Would her tender flesh ever be able to heal, he asked himself.

Only days after being flogged her wounds were broken
open first by Montgomery’s soldier attacking her, then again when his own
kinsmen slammed her into the wall of the stable, and tonight. . .

Gavin quickly stoked the fire to give warmth and light
to the chamber, then took linen and the water basin to the bed. He sat beside
her, and gently cleansed the blood from her thighs, then her back.

“Don’t touch me,” she spat as she tried to move away,
but her demand was denied.

His touch remained soft, his face grim as he saw to
the arduous task.

“You took what you want, now leave,” she cried while
he ministered to her needs.

“Ella . . .”

“I’ll never forgive for this,” she whispered before
turning her head into the pillow.

Gavin spoke no more. He finished bathing his wife’s
fragile body, and then left the chamber to retrieve clean linen for the bed,
along with the chemise Eva had made for her.

When he returned, she was wrapped in a Macleod plaid
and curled up on the fur pelt by the fire. She had braided her long hair and
moved it so it hung in the front, away from her back that still glistened from
the salve he had applied moments ago.

He quickly discarded the soiled bed linens and began
replacing them with clean ones. It took longer than expected, since he was
unaccustomed to the task that was usually carried out by the maids. But, he
would not allow them or his mother, who had offered, to see it completed.

Ella heard him re-enter the chamber and start
stripping the bed.
Curse his rotten soul, he only came to retrieve the proof
that their marriage had been consummated and evidence that she had been a
virgin.

She turned and looked over her shoulder moments later,
wondering why he had not taken his leave, and was stunned by the sight that
greeted her eyes. A huge Highland laird attempting to make the bed, with
confusion lining his brow. If she wasn’t so angry with him and herself for
trusting him, she would have laughed.

When the bed was finally made, Gavin slipped a chemise
over her head, ignoring her feeble attempts to halt his efforts. He then gently
carried her to the bed and deposited her amidst the fresh linen, then pulled
the cover over her body.

He took the soiled sheets to his mother waiting
outside the chamber door, then doused the candles and sat in the wingback chair
near the hearth. He stared into the fire without seeing the flames as his
tortured mind replayed the images of Ella.

Her flinching from his touch. Her tear streaked face.
Her desolate eyes. Her bleeding, trembling body. Leaning forward with his
elbows on his knees, Gavin covered his face with his hands. He then reflected
on how he had deceived this precious woman who was now his wife.

Ella was not blind to the tenderness he bestowed upon
her as he bathed and dressed her moments ago or to the agony she saw now etched
on his face. She wanted to rail at him for his betrayal, but then she
remembered the Gavin she had known before this night.

The one who teased and flirted with her, the one who
could make her blush with one look, the one who held her close at night and the
one who let her cry in his arms. He had rescued her from a watery grave, from
being attacked by a soldier during the battle and now he was now trying to
protect her from a life of cruelty and unimaginable suffering.

Ella knew she had no right to insist upon a marriage
in name only or deny Gavin her bed, which is why she did not fight him.
Actually, she had been so dazed and had barely protested his actions. And, once
he was inside her, she had given in to defeat, thinking how she had failed her
beloved aunt.

Gavin had given her no choice but to trust that he
would save Lady Eleanor. But, what if he could not save her? What if her uncle,
too, was killed?

Ella’s thoughts suddenly took a different direction.
What will happen when Gavin learns that she is the hated daughter of his
closest ally? What will her father do when he learns of her marriage, and that
she is living in Scotland against his written warning? If he did not kill her,
he would see the marriage dissolved. What then? Who would take her in? Without
her virginity she was no longer useful to Montgomery or Phillip. And, in both
England and Scotland her life would be in peril. The thought left her chilled,
sicken and faint.

Dear God, if Aunt Eleanor or Uncle James were killed,
I will have neither family nor hope for the future.

In the chill of the early morning while the skies yet
slumbered outside the window, Gavin saw that sleep had finally claimed his
wife.

Crouching down beside the bed, he pushed back the
golden tendrils that lined her face. With tender lips, he kissed her forehead
and whispered, “I pray yer heart will forgive me, little one.”

Ella woke suddenly when she heard the chamber door
open, then close. She hastily scanned the chamber, only to discover that Gavin
was gone. She searched for a plausible explanation for a brief moment, then flew
out of bed. Sliding the bolt back, she then pulled on the door, only to
discover that it was locked from the outside.

The realization was a mighty blow that added to her
misery. Gavin had locked her in the chamber, never intending for her to journey
with him to England. He had lied to her yet again.

“Damn you to hell, Gavin! Open the door!” When the
door remained locked, she cried, “How could you? You and your vow of honor mean
naught! You are dead to me! Do you hear me!”

When her screams and threats went unanswered, she
collapsed to the ground with her back to the door. Unexpectedly, she then heard
retreating footsteps.
Gavin listened, then took his leave without bothering
to explain or even attempt to apologize.

If the only family left to Ella were killed, her
hatred for him would be beyond words. How could she continue to live with him,
as his wife, knowing that his coercion of marriage brought the death of the
only two people who had given her love and joy these past eight years. How
would she get through the days ahead knowing that her beloved aunt and uncle
were in danger?

For the next hour she failed to find peace in sleep,
then decided to complete her ablutions and dress. She winced at the soreness
between her legs and cursed Gavin again as she clothed herself with her newly
washed boy’s attire.

The dresses that Lady Esme and Eva had given her hung
in the open wardrobe near the stone hearth, but she had no intention of wearing
any of the beautiful garments. Her anger was too great this morning, with
everyone including Gavin’s mother.

Lady Esme’s presence in the chapel last eve was
evidence that she knew her son’s intent. The entire family along with his
guard, probably all knew that he planned to wed her, even against her wishes.
She wanted naught from them, nae clothes, nae pity, and nae care.

Walking over to the window, Ella gazed out on the
thick copses of pine and fir and abundant low tangle of shrubs, which formed
nearly an impenetrable boundary around the loch. The cloudless sky, mixed with
the early morning rays, reflected off the sparkling water. But alas, even that
brilliant scene would not lighten her mood.

She felt like a caged animal, denied all freedom
beyond the walls of her chamber. Pacing in front of the hearth over an hour,
she finally heard the bolt on the opposite side of the door removed. When she
whipped it open, Arth stood alone in the corridor and greeted her with his
usual enthusiasm.

The midday sun was bright overhead when Ella left the
keep with Arth by her side. When she walked through the bailey, she noticed the
sympathetic looks cast her way, which were followed by respectful head nods
from the men and curtsies from the women. She all but ran the rest of the way
to the stables, wanting only to be left alone and oblivious to the shadow that
followed in her wake.

From the moment she left her chamber, Paen had
cautiously kept his distance. He was no stranger to grief or pain,
understanding that she would want to be left alone for the next few days. He
would allow Ella her solitude for the moment, but he would stay close, to guard
and protect her, even from herself.

He was unsure if she would attempt to run away, head
to England to try to save her aunt herself.
She dinna seem daft, but when
women were overcome by emotion, they were known to defy all logic and reason.

He did anticipate, however, that she would head
straight for the stables to see Apollo, and he was not disappointed. Actually,
he welcomed the excursion to the stables, since he was most anxious to see Righ
again.

The night before, Leif had demonstrated Ella’s methods
as well as his wild beast’s astounding transformation. Although Paen was still
unable to get near Righ, he hoped to use the horse’s training as an excuse to
get close to Ella.

Paen had always been an excellent judge of human
behavior. He noticed what others were blind to, but he never reached out to
help someone other than his kin. With Ella, he wanted to help her, not because
she was now kin, but because she deserved to be happy. Like everyone, he was
taken with her beauty, compassion, intelligence and integrity. And secretly, he
wished that it had been him and not his brother, she had run to when they were
attacked by Montgomery’s men.

Paen thought back to the battle, to the moment when
Ella had thrown herself into Gavin’s arms; fully trusting the warrior, who a
scant moment earlier, killed her attacker with brutal, ruthless conviction. She
had witnessed Gavin slaughter her countrymen, giving evidence to the tales spun
about him as the ‘Spawn of Satan’.

Unlike any other female, Ella had seen through all the
brutal stories told and retold throughout Scotland and England. She had seen
the real Gavin. A man plagued by his father’s sins, but possessed a heart and
soul as pure as her own. He had never seen his older brother look more at
peace, more content, more determined than when she was in his arms.

Paen believed that he had witnessed the moment they
had fallen in love, when their two souls recognized each other and merged as
one. However, great difficulty and more pain lay on the horizon for Gavin and
Ella. He could feel it in his bones and was helpless against it, but was sure
it was close.