Ransom (53 page)

She stopped him cold. “I cannot believe you would suggest such a thing.”

“A light tap is all it would take,” Aaron argued. “You wouldn't feel a thing.”

“We don't like seeing you in pain, milady,” Liam rasped.

“Then close your eyes,” she snapped.

Brodick finally noticed Bridgid squeezed up against
him. She had tears in her eyes as she stared at Gillian. He told her to move back so that he could do what was needed, but Bridgid didn't budge, and Aaron had to lift her out of the way.

“What are you going to do?” Robert asked from behind.

In answer, Brodick pulled his sword free. “Dylan, hold the arrow steady. Liam, grab the reins.”

Dylan moved forward, grabbed the arrow with both hands and pressed down against Gillian's thigh to keep it from moving.

Aaron pulled Bridgid out of the way, while Robert hurried to the other side of the horse and told Gillian to lean toward him.

“Are you still thinking about punching me, Robert?” she asked suspiciously.

“Nay, milady, I would never strike you without gaining permission.”

She decided to trust him and put her hands on his shoulders as she slowly leaned down toward him.

“Brodick?”

“Yes?”

“Don't miss.”

And then she closed her eyes and waited. She heard the whistle of the sword as it sliced through the air, felt only a slight jarring as the blade cut the arrow, and then it was over. When she opened her eyes again she saw that the arrow had been cleanly cut in half just a thumb's width above Dylan's hands.

She knew what was going to happen next, and, Lord, how she dreaded it. Brodick was slipping his arms under her knees. “Put your hands on my shoulders,” he ordered.

“Wait.”

“What is it?”

“I don't want to go back to Annie Drummond's cottage. Do you hear me? I don't want to go back there ever again.”

He tightened his grip. “I thought you liked Annie's house.”

Bridgid was wringing her hands in agitation. She could barely stand to watch her friend in such pain. “You'll feel better if you scream,” she blurted. “I would.”

Brodick looked into his wife's eyes, saw the tears, and said, “She will not make a sound.”

He got just the reaction he wanted. Instantly furious, she shouted, “I'm supposed to say that, not you. If you tell me to be brave, then when I am, it doesn't count. I . . .”

She didn't make a sound, except her deep indrawn breath when Brodick lifted her and the arrow slid through her leg. She threw her arms around him and held tight, and when the tears fell, she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

He wasn't sure which one of them was shaking more. Without a word, he turned and carried her to the creek. Bridgid tried to follow them, thinking she could help bind the injury, but Dylan grabbed her and told her to wait until they returned.

“It's over with,” Brodick whispered, and his voice was hoarse with relief. He held her tight against him and couldn't seem to make himself let go. It was going to take some time for him to get over the scare of losing her. He kissed her forehead and then begged her to stop crying.

She wiped her face with his plaid. “You're dying to yell at me, aren't you?”

“Damn right I am,” he admitted. “But I'm a thoughtful man, and so I'll wait until you have recovered.”

She didn't believe a word of it. “That is thoughtful of you,” she agreed.

“What in God's name were you thinking, to leave without . . . my God, Gillian, you could have been killed.”

He had only just gotten warmed up, and he continued to rant at her all the while he splashed cold water over her leg to wash off any dirt or dried blood. He stopped long enough to grudgingly admit the wound wasn't nearly as awful as he'd first thought, but he went right back to shouting at her while he tore strips from her skirt and wrapped them around her thigh to stop the bleeding. By the time he was finished, her thigh didn't hurt much at all, but her pride had taken quite a blistering.

He wouldn't let her walk, and she wouldn't let him carry her anywhere until he had finished giving her a piece of his mind. She wasn't about to let him scold her in front of the men.

Scooping her up into his arms, his tirade continued. “When we get home, I swear I'm putting two guards in front of you and two behind you. You're never going to get another chance to scare me like this again.”

She put her hand against his cheek, a simple caress that magically calmed him. Then she ruined it by trying to explain her actions, inadvertently getting him riled up again.

“I didn't deliberately leave the holding in hopes of getting attacked.”

“But you did leave the holding, didn't you? And without a proper guard to protect you. How could you leave Sinclair land without—”

“I didn't know I was leaving Ramsey's territory.”

He closed his eyes and told himself for the hundredth time that she was all right. The thought of losing her scared the hell out of him and infuriated him at the same time. How had he allowed himself to become so vulnerable?

“Shouting at me isn't going to accomplish anything.”

“Sure it is,” he snapped. “It's making me feel a hell of a lot better.”

She didn't dare smile, guessing he would take grave offense if she did. She wanted to soothe him now, not incite his wrath further.

“Will you please be reasonable?”

“I am being reasonable. Haven't you figured it out yet? It took me a while, but by God, I finally have.”

“Figured out what?”

“Trouble follows you like a shadow, Gillian. You're prone to injuries. I swear to God, if a tree decided to fall right now, it would find your head to land on.”

“Oh, for heaven's sake,” she muttered. “I'll admit that I have had a run of bad fortune, but—”

He wouldn't let her continue. “A run of bad fortune? Since I've known you, you've been beaten, stabbed, and now shot with an arrow. If this keeps up, you'll be dead in another month, and if that happens, I'm going to be damned angry.”

“I was beaten, yes, but that was before I met you,” she said, believing she was being quite logical. “And Alec didn't stab me. He cut my arm, but only because he was so frightened. It was just bad luck that it didn't heal. As for the arrow,” she continued. “it only pinched my skin. You saw the cut; it wasn't bad.”

“It could have pierced your heart.”

“But it didn't.”

She demanded that he put her down, and when he did, she walked to a tree so that he could see she was as fit as ever. Then she leaned against it to take the weight off the throbbing leg. Forcing a smile, she said, “Do you see? I'm quite all right.”

Brodick turned away from her and stared out into the night, brooding. He didn't say a word for several minutes.

“I made up my mind a long time ago that no woman would ever unsettle me again. I will not let it happen.”

“What are you telling me?”

His temper exploded. “You and I struck a bargain when we married, and you're going to live up to your end of it.”

“What bargain?” she asked quietly.

“You married me for my protection.”

“I married you because I love you. Now, tell me, Brodick. Why did you marry me? What did you get out of this bargain?”

He wouldn't answer, but she wasn't about to give up. Prodding him, she asked, “Did you marry me because you loved me?” She held her breath until he answered.

“Love weakens a man, and I'm not weak.”

His hard words shattered her heart. She bowed her head so he wouldn't see how he had hurt her. “You told me you wanted to protect my reputation. I remember that conversation, but even then I knew that wasn't the real reason you married me. I thought . . . I hoped, anyway . . . that you cared for me. I knew you were grateful because I helped Alec and you're his guardian, but surely you didn't marry me out of gratitude. A simple thank you would have been enough.”

“I had a responsibility to you, Gillian, and that is all that need be said about my reasons.”

“You care for me, Brodick. I know you do.”

He turned away from her. He was acting like a cornered animal. He had never hedged or skirted an issue before. No, he'd been honest and blunt, but now he was deliberately being evasive. It made her worry all the more. What he wasn't telling her frightened her.

Why was it so difficult for him to admit what was in his heart. “I ask you again. Why did you marry me?”

He refused to answer. “Ramsey's here,” he said then. “I'll carry you back, and then you're going to start at the beginning and tell both of us what happened today.”

“I can walk,” she assured him. “You go ahead. I'll be there in a few minutes.”

“You're coming with me now,” he told her, and before she could argue, he picked her up and carried her back to the clearing.

One of the soldiers had started a campfire in the center of the grassy flat, and all the Buchanans sat in a circle around the flames. Proster, Ker, and Alan stood together near Ramsey and his men while Proster waited to give his laird their accounting. Bridgid faced her laird, and after one quick glance, Gillian knew her friend was hearing Ramsey's displeasure.

Brodick settled Gillian on the plaid Dylan had spread out for her, but she didn't stay there. As soon as he turned his back and walked away, she got to her feet and went to Bridgid.

“Ramsey, don't blame Bridgid for what happened. She isn't responsible.”

“Then Bridgid was forced to leave the holding?”

His voice was deceptively mild, but Gillian knew he was seething with anger. “No, of course she wasn't forced.”

“I take full responsibility for my actions,” Bridgid said.

“If anyone is responsible for what happened today, you are, Ramsey. Yes, you are,” Gillian added when he looked so incredulous. “If you had kept your promise to me, this incident could have been avoided.”

“What promise?” he demanded.

“It meant so little to you that you have already forgotten?”

Ramsey glared at Brodick, obviously seeking his assistance. “Your wife believes I'm responsible.”

“She's wrong.”

Folding her arms defiantly, she boldly turned to Brodick. “I warned you that I would give Ramsey until noon today to do as he promised and order my sister to see me, but he didn't, and so I took matters into my own hands. Bridgid was kind enough to help me.”

Ramsey was seething now. “I haven't had time to speak to your sister, and your impatience nearly got you killed.”

Bridgid tried to deflect some of her laird's anger. “It was all for the good,” she blurted out, and when Ramsey and Brodick looked at her as though she'd lost her senses, she hastened to explain. “You never would have known that Faudron and Durston wanted to hurt Gillian, and now perhaps you can figure out why.”

“I'm sorry you're angry with us,” Gillian said then. “And I'll admit we did take a needless risk, but in our defense, I would point out that neither one of us knew we were leaving your territory.”

“Laird, may I speak freely?” Bridgid asked.

“What the hell have you been doing?” he countered.

She shook her head. “You're my laird and I respect you, and for that reason I will not lose my temper. I would appreciate it if you would treat me with the same consideration, for I am one of your most loyal followers.”

“Bridgid, I'm going to assume that the bump on your head has addled you and that's why you dare to speak to me this way.”

“Please don't be angry with her,” Gillian pleaded on her
friend's behalf. “This is all my fault. It's just as you have said, Ramsey. I was impatient.”

“I'm the one who came up with the idea to follow Brisbane,” Bridgid insisted.

“No, you didn't,” Gillian countered. “You told me that Anthony came up with the idea.”

Ramsey's roar stopped the discussion. “What does Anthony have to do with this?”

Gillian realized then that Bridgid hadn't told her laird everything. “Anthony told Bridgid that he would follow Brisbane.”

“And?” he demanded when she hesitated.

“He told me he did follow him,” Bridgid said. “He gave me specific directions, and I memorized them so we wouldn't get lost.”

“He sent us into a trap.”

Ramsey was shaking with rage. “I'm going to kill the son of a bitch with my bare hands.”

“No, you're not,” Brodick countered. “He tried to kill my wife. I'm going to kill him. It's my right.”

“The hell it is,” Ramsey muttered. “By God, he's going to suffer before he takes his last breath.”

I
t was late, well past midnight, and Bridgid and Gillian were so exhausted from their long day and their ordeal, they could barely keep their eyes open. They sat shoulder to shoulder with their backs resting against a tree trunk, their legs stretched out in front of them, trying to hear what their lairds were discussing.