The MacKinnon's Bride (38 page)

Iain closed his eyes and tried to hear his
father’s reason. He imagined the anger his brother... Christ... his
brother... must feel.

“
Lagan never had a chance
with MacLean’s daughter, Iain. I thought he should know why. It was
surprising enough that auld MacLean had been willin’ to entrust his
eldest daughter into your hands. God only knows... I wish I hadna
told him.”

“
Why did he do it for me,
I wonder?”

“
MacLean?” Glenna shook
her head. “I dunno, but I wish he had not. Were the choice between
you and Lagan, I wish it had been Lagan,” she told him honestly,
“and ye know I dinna mean to wish ye ill. ‘Tis merely that for ye
and for Mairi there was ne’er any love. While Lagan loved Mairi’s
sister, of a certain—and he’s envied ye all his life, besides. He
never wanted me, Iain,” she lamented. “It was you and your da he
always envied.”

Iain shook his head, benumbed. “I cannot
believe ye didna tell me, Glenna.”

“
It was your da’s wish...
to protect ye, love.”

“
Nay, Glenna,” Iain
countered with conviction, his tone clipped with pain and fury. For
the first time in his life, he understood so much. “It was my da’s
wish to hide from the truth,” he disputed her. “He didna wish to
face the fact that his wife was in love wi’ another man. Just as it
was his wish to raise a perfect son—a son without weaknesses—a
legacy for himself. Bastard. ‘Tis no wonder Lagan resents me so!
Who could blame him?”

There was an instant of silence between
them. Glenna hung her head, unable to respond.

“
And why should ye choose
now... this instant to unburden yourself to me, Glenna?”

Her chin lifted. Her eyes welled again with
tears. “Och! ‘Tis Lagan,” she began. “I dinna—”

The door burst open.

“
Iain!” Broc bellowed. “I
think ye’d better come!”

Iain’s nerves were near to snapping. He
doubted there was one more incident he could deal with this day.
“What now, Broc?” he asked without turning, his fist clenching upon
the table before him.

“’
Tis David!” Broc
revealed.

Iain stiffened. “David?”

“
Aye... he rides wi’
FitzSimon ti reclaim FitzSimon’s daughter.”

chapter 32

To his credit, David, King of Scotia—so he
claimed—sat his mount in thoughtful silence, listening. Iain was
aware of him, his easy demeanor, though his own thoughts were
racing with the possible reasons for Page’s disappearance. He’d
summoned her at once upon her father’s arrival, only to learn she’d
vanished.

She couldn’t possibly have known of her
father’s approach, and it didn’t make much sense to Iain that she
would wander away so late. Nor had it been so long since he’d left
her. She couldn’t have gone far.

Her da, however, had long since dismounted
and paced before him now like a maddened beast.

“
I cannot believe you
would lose her!” FitzSimon shouted at him, and it was all Iain
could do not to murder the man where he stood.

“
I entrust my daughter to
your hands!” he spat. “And this is how you care for
her?”

Iain restrained his temper, telling himself
that there would be plenty of time to kill him once he resolved the
situation at hand. He couldn’t keep his tongue stilled, however, as
FitzSimon was a lying bastard. “Entrust? Is that what ye call it
when ye Sassenachs cast your own kin away?”

FitzSimon had the decency to stutter at the
question. “I—I was angry,” he reasoned. “I did not realize what I
was saying—what I was doing!”

“
Bluidy lyin’ bastard! Ye
seemed to know just fine,” Angus interjected.

Iain cast Angus a quelling glance, and then
returned his attention to FitzSimon. “You sounded to me like a mon
who knew his mind well enough,” Iain proposed. “I gave you plenty
o’ opportunity to change your mind and ye didna. Ye wouldna.”

“
I was angry,” FitzSimon
reasoned once more.

“
And do ye think I’m no’
angry?” Iain returned. “Just because I’m standin’ here listenin’ to
you doesna mean to say I dinna take pleasure in the thought o’
carvin’ the heart from your feckless body!”

FitzSimon stared warily.

“
A mon is no’ a mon, but a
beast, if he canna use his reason,” Iain said.

FitzSimon said nothing, and Iain decided he
hadn’t spoken clearly enough.

“
You are worse than any
beast I know, for e’en a beast doesna sacrifice his
young!”

“
I did not know she was my
daughter!” FitzSimon admitted, shocking Iain with the disclosure.
Of all the things he might have spoken, it was the one thing to
which Iain could not respond. His own revelations were too freshly
revealed.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he
could, Dougal came running from the tower, breathless. “I canna
find Malcom, either,” he said, between pants. “I looked everywhere,
and I canna! Nor Lagan either!”

Murmurs filled the air. Iain’s heart began
to pound all the more fiercely. “Neither Malcom, Lagan, nor Page?”
The hairs of his nape stood upon end.

“
Nary a one!”

Iain tried not to give in to panic. Panic
would gain him naught, he knew. “Did no one see them go?”

It seemed a thousand murmurs responded, none
of them yes.

And then he heard his son’s shouts, distant,
but unmistakable, and his heart jolted. He tore through the crowd
at once, shoving his way through to follow the sound. “Malcom!” he
called out.

“
Da!” his son cried,
running through the night toward them, his voice full of fear.
“Da!”

Iain began to run.

“
Da!” Malcom
wailed.

Iain reached him and swept him up into his
arms, embracing him desperately. “What, Malcom?”

“
Lagan!” Malcom sobbed.
“Page!” And then he began to cry hysterically,
uncontrollably.

Iain’s heart tripped. He shook his son in a
moment of desperation. “Malcom, tell me!”

“
Lagan was g-gain’ t-to
k-kill me, da,” he cried, choking on his sobs. “P-Page p-pushed
him.” He sobbed, clutching Iain’s neck, and Iain felt his legs go
weak beneath him. His mind raced.

“
Pushed him?
Where?”

He gripped his son beneath the arms, pulling
him away, his arms trembling.

Malcom held on all the tighter. “I didna
want to leave her, Da, but she told me to run!”

“
Where is she now?” Iain
choked out, and his heartbeat stilled for the answer.

“
O’er the bluffside!”
Malcom cried. “She went o’er the bluff, Da!”

Praying to God he wasn’t too late, he thrust
Malcom away and into waiting arms.

Christ in Heaven above! he thought. Do not
let it be too late!

Page had fallen, her body scraping over rock
and brush, onto a ledge in the cliffside where the rock jutted
outward. Somehow, though the impact had driven the air from her
lungs, she’d managed to hold on to the small platform.

Groping blindly with her feet for a better
hold than the tentative one she had, she found a place in the
craggy cliffside where she could snuggle her toes. And then she
held on for her life!

It seemed an eternity passed before she
heard the first voices above.

She didn’t wait to be called upon; she
shouted at the top of her lungs. And still it was another eternity
before they followed her voice to where she hung so precariously
along the cliffside.

“
Are ye hurt, lass?” Page
heard Iain ask.

Sweet Jesu! It was about time! “Well, if I
am,” she returned somewhat caustically, “I certainly have no wish
to know this minute! Rather ask me when I’m safe above!”

His answering chuckle, uneasy though it
sounded, reassured her somehow. “Verra well,” he told her, his tone
clearly filled with relief. “Hold fast now,” he said, “I’m comin’
down after ye, lass!”

“
Och!” Page mocked him.
“But ye dinna have to tell me so, I think. I’m holding! God’s
truth, I’m holding!”

Once again his laughter drifted down from
above, and Page tried to ignore the fact that her fingers were
growing weary and raw from gripping the jagged rock. She was not
going to die! Not now! Jesu Christ, but she refused!

“
Hurry!” she urged him,
and knew she sounded afeared.

“
Keep talking to me,
dearlin’!” he directed her, his voice calm, though she could scarce
mistake the urgency in his command. “I’ll be coming for ye
anon!”

Keep talking? By the bloody saints! What in
creation was she supposed to talk about?

She asked him as much, and he said,
“Anything, lass... just so I know where to find ye.”

“
Let me talk to her,” she
heard a familiar voice say, and her heart leapt. Nay! But it could
not be!

“
Bluidy hell if you will!”
she heard Iain deny him. “Ye’ve done enough harm as it is. Get oot
o’ my way, and leave her be!”

Page was so staggered by the discovery that
he’d come, after all, that she nearly lost her tenuous grip upon
the rock.

She screeched as she slipped a little.
“Father?” she called out. Her heart began to pound all the faster,
and her vision threatened to turn black. “Is it you?”

“
Aye, Page,” he answered.
“’Tis me!”

She heard Iain’s curse, but was too dazed to
comprehend its cause.

“
You’ve come!” she cried,
and squealed as her fingers slipped a little. In desperation, she
released one hand and grasped out, thanking God above for the bush
he placed within her reach. She used it to support her weight while
her other hand searched and found a more tangible hold. She found
it just in time, for the bush began to uproot.

“
Sweet Mary, Mother of
God!” she exclaimed.

“
Aye, Page,” he shouted
down to her. “I’ve much to tell you, daughter mine.”

Fine time, Page thought.

“
No’ now, ye willna!” she
heard Iain argue with him. “Now isna the time to unburden yourself!
Now get the bluidy hell oota my way!”

“
In the meantime,” Page
shouted a little frantically, “whilst you two argue, my hands are
aching, and my feet are slipping, and I do not wish to end like
Lagan, if you please!”

There was a long interval of silence, too
long, Page thought, and then Iain said, “Dinna worry, love. I’ll be
comin’ down now.” And sure enough, she heard him making his way
down the cliffside. “Page?” he called out once more.

Page squeezed her eyes shut and prayed that
he would reach her soon. The pebbles at her toes were beginning to
loosen and roll free.

“
Are ye certain Lagan went
down, lass?”

Page swallowed at the memory of his screams
as he’d fallen. He’d fallen so far and so long, and his bellow had
continued for what had seemed an eternity.

“
Aye,” she answered. “He’s
gone!”

She heard the scuffing of his boots as he
came nearer.

“
We fell together,” she
told him, groaning, and opened her eyes to search for his
descending shadow against the cliffside. “Only I somehow ended
here, and he down there!” And she added silently, thank
God!

“
Thank God!” he said, and
his voice was nearer now. “Malcom told me what ye did—and God’s
teeth! I thought we’d lost ye too, lass!”

“
Aye, well...” She
whimpered as her toe lost its footing. She heard the loose rocks
cascade downward, dragging the cliffside, until they descended into
stony silence, and swallowed convulsively as she searched out
another toehold. “I... I did tell you I was stubborn and canny,”
she warned him, trying to make merry.

“
That ye did, lass,” he
told her, chuckling softly, much closer now. “That ye
did.”

And then suddenly she could see him, and her
heart leapt with joy. When his face came into view, the moonlight
reflecting within his wonderful golden eyes, she thought she would
weep with delight.

And then suddenly he was there at her side.
Page might have cast herself into his arms, but she was so afeared
to move that he had to pry her free from the rock.

“
I canna save ye if ye
willna let go,” he advised her.

“
And I will not let go
until you save me!” she returned.

“
Och, but ye’ve a saucy
tongue!”

“
Aye, well! My father’s
here to take me off your hands at last! You’ll not have to endure
it much longer, it seems.”

He made some sound, like a snarl, and jerked
her away from the rock. When at last she was in his arms, her tears
began to flow at once. She clung to him, weeping, babbling
nonsensically, and all the while he stroked her head and held her
close. And she didn’t know which she was more aggrieved over: the
fact that she’d come so close to cracking her head upon the rocks
below, or that her father had finally come to collect her.

“
Wrap yourself about me,
Page,” he whispered. “And dinna let go.”

Page did as she was told, burying her face
against his throat, her lips against the warmth of his flesh. She
wrapped her legs about his waist and held to him for dear life.

“
Och,” he whispered,
holding her close. Page thought he would squeeze her until she
broke, but she couldn’t truly care this moment. She wanted him to
hold her so, never wanted him to let her go.