The Wedding

Chapter 16

Connor was gone. Brenna awakened late that morning when Netta knocked on the door. She called out to her to please wait a moment, then sat up in bed and reached for her robe.

Her husband's medallion was underneath it. She felt a moment's disappointment before common sense told her he hadn't wanted to disturb her sleep searching for it, so he had simply left it behind when he'd gone downstairs. She put the medallion on the chest next to the bed and hurried to the door while she put on her robe.

Netta didn't come inside. "Father Sinclair has arrived, but you needn't hurry to greet him. He's busy hearing confession in the lower bailey now and won't make his way up here for another hour or so."

"You're certain?" Brenna asked. "I wouldn't want to keep him waiting."

"If Fionna goes through with her promise to give her confession, I'm certain. She has enough sins to keep Father busy for the rest of the day."

"Talk like that will get you a long penance, Netta," she replied with a laugh.

"I'm only telling the truth, so it can't be a sin. Would you like my help getting dressed, mi'lady?"

"No, thank you."

Netta looked disappointed. "I'll go on down to the hall then. I'm dreading it though, because you-know-who is sitting at the table, acting like a queen."

"Are you referring to Lady MacAlister?"

Netta nodded. Brenna immediately scolded her. "You must honor and respect her," she said. "She's your laird's stepmother, if you'll remember."

"As you wish, mi'lady."

"I do wish. Please try, Netta. I know she can be difficult."

"Aye, it is difficult, especially since she took away all your nice improvements. The cushions weren't lumpy, mi'lady. They were perfect."

Brenna thanked her for her kind opinion and sent her away so she could get dressed. While she washed, she made her list of things she must do today. First and most important, she would take her husband aside and tell him about Raen. Yes, that was the most imperative duty she had, but if there was time and opportunity, she was also going to try to find out exactly how long Lady Euphemia would be staying.

As was her custom each and every morning before she left her bedroom, she said a quick prayer for assistance in getting Euphemia to like her.

God willing, today would be the day.

Talking to Connor came first, however, and even though she would have died of embarrassment if she'd been caught, she sneaked out so that she wouldn't be delayed listening to Euphemia complain. Luck was on her side; the elder woman faced the entrance and didn't see her.

Brenna wasn't particularly worried she would run into Raen, however, because he went riding every day and stayed away from the holding until nightfall.

By tonight, he would be gone… forever.

Where was Connor? She searched high and low for her husband. He had promised her he wouldn't leave, and she knew he would never break his word to her. He had gone either to the lake or the ruins, she decided, and she meant to find out which from Crispin. Fortunately, she located him in the lower bailey.

She waited by the side of the path for the commander to finish his conversation with two other soldiers, and then called out to him. "May I interrupt for just a moment, Crispin?"

"Certainly, mi'lady," he answered. He hurried over to her and bowed his head.

"I've looked everywhere for my husband. Do you know where he is?"

"He's gone, mi'lady. I'm not certain when he'll be back."

"Gone to the lake?"

"He went to Laird Hugh's holding. He should be away at least three or four days, perhaps more."

Her reaction thoroughly puzzled him. She looked as though she were going to faint dead away, and when she grabbed hold of his arm and gripped him so fiercely, he realized she was actually afraid.

"Where's Raen?" she asked. She frantically looked around her.

"He left early this morning, mi'lady. Three soldiers from Laird Finley's holding rode with him. They also were on their way back north. The higher their number, the better their protection," he added in the event she didn't understand.

She felt like weeping with relief. "Raen won't be back then, will he?"

"No, mi'lady, he won't."

"Thank God. I wanted to tell Connor, but he left, Crispin, before I could, and now I… Why did he leave? He told me he wouldn't."

Crispin patted her hand in an attempt to get her to let go of him. "Hugh died last night. It was important for your laird to pay his respects. Laird Kincaid will surely do the same."

It was suddenly all right again. Connor hadn't lied to her. He simply hadn't anticipated his friend's death.

"I'm sorry for Hugh's family. I hope he died peacefully."

"We were told he died in his sleep. Does this news please you, mi'lady? You're smiling."

She felt like a fool. "I'm pleased because my husband had to leave. He didn't lie to me. I'm not at all happy to hear about Hugh. I shall go and find Father and ask him to pray for his departed soul."

"Sinclair's hearing confessions. I'll send him to you as soon as he's finished."

She finally let go of the soldier. "I don't know what came over me. I was…"

"Afraid."

She slowly nodded. "Yes, I was. I'm not now."

She bowed to Crispin and started back up the hill. "Mi'lady? You were afraid of Raen, weren't you?"

She pretended not to hear him, but he followed her and repeated the question to her again. She turned around, smiled, and said, "I wasn't afraid."

He felt a stab of disappointment that she didn't trust him enough to tell him the truth.

"I was terrified."

He blinked. "Why, mi'lady?"

"I feel I should explain to Connor first when he returns, but I assure you, Crispin, if there was any possibility at all that Raen would be coming back before then, I would tell you everything. Do you understand?"

"I do," he replied. "Raen is Connor's stepbrother, and Connor should be the first to hear what you have to say. I'm only sorry you didn't tell him."

"I'm sorry too," she said, admitting only to herself she wouldn't have changed anything that had happened last night.

She tried to leave once again. "Mi'lady, what are your plans for today?"

It wasn't the question that made her laugh. It was the dread she heard in his voice. "Don't worry. I won't be riding the black today."

She stayed outside much longer than she'd intended, visiting with several ladies who had taken their sewing outside, and she didn't return to the keep until midafternoon. As she hurried inside, she rehearsed what she would say when she greeted Euphemia. "She best not call me a child again," she muttered.

Her bluster was short-lived, and with a sigh, she admitted the woman could call her child as often as she wanted, and she wouldn't say a word to her. Criticizing would never win her approval.

Dear heavens, how long was she going to stay? Brenna tried to think of a way to ask Euphemia, but no matter how she phrased the question, it sounded a mite eager.

She put the problem aside when she entered the great hall. "Good afternoon, Lady Euphemia. How are you feeling today?"

"Brenna, I know I've mentioned this to you before, but it seems I must mention it again. I prefer being called Lady MacAlister. I realize you don't know any better-you're just a child, after all-but I want you to try a little harder."

She took a deep breath. "Yes, Lady MacAlister. I'll try harder."

"Did you hear the sad news about Hugh?"

"Yes."

"It's a shame, isn't it? He led such a wasted life. Never did amount to anything or do anything worth remembering."

"I'm certain his family doesn't feel that way," she replied.

"He never married. No woman would have him. Oh, heavens, I wish I had remembered to tell Connor the news Raen gave the other day. It slipped my mind. I'll probably forget again by the time he returns. Age does that to a body, Brenna. It makes one forget little things."

"Perhaps if you told me, I would remind you if you should forget," she offered.

She stood with her hands folded together, waiting for Euphemia to invite her to join her at the table. She didn't dare sit without an invitation, for Connor's stepmother had berated her for doing that very thing just two days ago. She wouldn't make the mistake again. Getting along with the woman was proving to be her greatest challenge, she decided.

"Come and join me, child, don't stand there making me look up at you. I shall tell you the news Raen heard when he was out riding yesterday. I worry when he goes out alone like that, of course, although I know he can take care of himself. Still, it isn't safe to go anywhere alone. I'm not worried about him today, though. There were three others who stopped on their way north. He'll be safe with them."

"The news, mi'lady? How did he hear news if he was riding alone yesterday?"

Euphemia needed several minutes to think about the question before she finally remembered. "As fortune would have it, he spotted a unit of soldiers on their way south. Raen knew two of the men and of course stopped to speak to them."

Brenna remembered that on her way here, Connor had avoided all of the well-trodden paths in favor of cutting through the forest, because he hadn't wanted to encounter anyone.

"I thought Connor might be interested to hear that Laird MacNare's going to get married after all. I pity the woman."

"I also pity her, mi'lady," she whispered, aching for the poor woman's future.

"I doubt he'll treat her kindly. Still, one can always hope. Now what was her name? I remember she's from England."

Where she was from really wasn't important to Brenna. All that mattered was that the poor woman would surfer a terrible fate if something wasn't done.

"Is it too late?" she asked.

"Do you mean to ask me if she's already with MacNare?"

"Yes."

"I don't believe so. The wedding won't take place for several weeks according to what Raen told me. Of course, there's always the chance MacNare will change his mind and send for her sooner."

"Then there's probably still time," Brenna said. "And MacNare might change his mind altogether and decide not to marry her," she added.

"You shouldn't get your hopes up, child. MacNare sounds like a determined man."

"Did Raen find out who the woman is?"

"Yes, but I can't seem to remember now. Age, you see."

Brenna nodded. "Yes, of course."

"It was a peculiar name. I remember thinking so when Raen told me the name. Perhaps it will come to me," she added with a shrug of indifference. "It's a pity Raen left so soon. He would have wanted to pay his respects to Hugh. My son is an extremely thoughtful man. Word will reach him, of course."

"Would he turn around and come back?" Brenna asked, trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

"Perhaps, depending on when he hears the news," she answered. "He would feel it was his duty to stand by the gravesite with the other lairds, but he might be too late. If the others have all gone back home, what's the point? I do hope he hears in time, because I'm certain he'll be missed if he doesn't go."

"But Raen isn't a laird, is he?"

"He will be laird very soon now," she snapped.

"Yes," Brenna quickly agreed to placate the woman. "If he does hear about Hugh in time, would he stop here on his way?"

"It would be the thoughtful thing to do," she answered. "There wouldn't be time before the burial, but he might make time on his way back north. Do you find this possibility unsettling? You look upset."

"I was just wondering when Connor would be back. I have a problem I wish to discuss with him."

"If something is wrong, Brenna, you shouldn't bother your husband. You should come to me for counsel. Is this not so?"

She decided to test the water. "And if this problem concerns your son?"

"Then you most certainly must come to me. I'm his mother, for heaven's sake, and I could possibly settle this… dispute… before it goes any farther."

"Mi'lady, I doubt I'll ever be alone with Raen again, so the problem…"

Euphemia cut her off. "Alone with Raen? Explain what you mean, child. Are you afraid of my son?"

Brenna hesitantly nodded. "He has tried to, that is, he tried to take advantage of… by grabbing hold of me and brushing up against my… and when I asked him to let go of me, he wouldn't listen to me. He said very inappropriate…"

"Enough," Euphemia snapped. Her eyes blazed with anger, yet

Brenna couldn't tell if the mother's fury was directed at her or her son.

A moment later, Euphemia's attitude underwent a radical change, and she actually looked amused. Brenna found her smile as unsettling as her anger.

"My son's smitten with you, child. It's as simple as that. Raen was always one to pity the poor unfortunates. When he was a boy, he chose the runt of the litter to raise as his own. I'm not suggesting you are an unfortunate, but Raen and I have both noticed Connor's rather cold attitude toward you. I believe that in time, once you've been properly trained to be a good wife, your husband will soften toward you. I noticed he seemed happy to have you at his table last night."

Brenna wondered what Euphemia would think if she told her she had asked Connor to act affectionate. She could understand why his stepmother would think he wasn't happy. Connor had been rather distant toward her in the past, but he had already changed his attitude, kissed her several times as a matter of fact, in plain view of all of his followers. Still, Euphemia hadn't witnessed her stepson's change of heart.

"What about Raen?" she asked.

Euphemia patted her hand. "Are you certain you aren't exaggerating this in your mind?"

"Yes, I'm not exaggerating."

Euphemia pondered the problem for a long minute before saying, "I'm sure you realize that because Raen is your husband's brother, he is just as important. I suggest you do whatever my son wants you to do. As mistress, you must see to his every request, for he is master of this keep whenever Connor is away."

Brenna was outraged. "Are you telling me I should…"

Euphemia interrupted her once again. "Respect his wishes at all times," she announced with a nod. "Surely you realize your value, for I find it difficult to believe women in England are treated any different by their men. You should be honored by Raen's attention. If the king of England favored you, would you turn your back on him? No, of course you wouldn't. I understand how confusing it all is to you. You're very young and tend to overreact.

I wouldn't mention this to Connor, though. He would be furious if you spoke any harsh word against my son. Have faith in… Why, that's the woman's name. Faith. I told you it was odd…" Her gaze slid over to Brenna and her eyes narrowed. "I believe the girl is one of Baron Haynesworth's daughters."

"MacNare plans to marry Faith? Mi'lady, are you certain it was Baron Haynesworth's daughter? For he is my father too."

"I am," she answered.

Brenna vehemently shook her head. "My father would have learned from his mistake by now. He wouldn't send his youngest to such a demon."

"Will that matter?" Euphemia asked. "Once a bargain's struck, it cannot be undone. MacNare won't be denied. It's rather clever of him, isn't it? He must hate you as well as Connor by now, and what better way to get even than to take something that's so precious to you? He'll take Faith by force if he must," she added with a nod. "At least that's what I would expect him to do."

"No," Brenna cried out.

Euphemia patted her hand. "It's a pity, but there really isn't anything you can do about it, is there?"

"She cannot marry him. Someone has to…"

"Lower your voice, Brenna. Ladies don't shout," she said, yet with the very next breath she did that very thing to get Netta to come into the hall.

"I believe she's in the kitchens," Brenna whispered.

"No, she isn't. I sent her upstairs to clean my chamber. Ah, there she is. Netta, how many times must I tell you? When I'm in the hall, you must stay near the door in the event I need you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, mi'lady," Netta answered. Her attention was riveted on her laird's wife now. "Is something wrong, Lady Brenna?"

"You can see there is. Fetch your mistress a cloth to wipe away her tears. Really, Brenna, you shouldn't cry in front of the servants. It's most unseemly. There isn't any need to carry on so. Accept that nothing can be done about it."

"Connor will put a stop to this madness," Brenna whispered.

"I doubt that, child. How can he? He's fully occupied protecting Hugh's followers at the moment. He cannot be in two places at the same time, and you cannot expect him to turn his back on defenseless men and women to go to England. Use your head."

"He went to pay his respects, not fight," Brenna argued. She was desperately trying to concentrate on what Euphemia was telling her, but was in such a panic inside for her little sister's safety, she could barely think about anything else.

"It seems MacNare isn't paying his respects. He's waging a war to get Hugh's land before Connor does. The holding sits between the two and would give one a certain advantage over the other."

"How could you know all this?" Brenna asked.

"I heard some of the soldiers talking about the conflict. All of the MacAlisters know what's happening, even the servants, but you haven't been accepted yet, have you? Perhaps that is why you were left in the dark. Where is Netta? It's taking her entirely too long to fetch a cloth for you. If I were not preparing to leave here, I would have her replaced."

"Netta?" Brenna asked, trying to understand what she was talking about.

"Try to pay attention, Brenna. As for your sister, I think you should simply put her out of your mind. There isn't anything to be done about her."

"But Connor could talk to my father…"

"How can you want Connor to go to your father? Surely you realize one would have to kill the other. After all, your husband did start this when he took you away from MacNare. Your sister's fate has been sealed, and neither you nor Connor can stop the marriage. Forget about her," she added. "Or offer a prayer for her if that will make you feel better."

"Yes, I'll offer a prayer," Brenna answered.

She stood up, bowed to her stepmother, and turned to leave. Netta came running in through the back hall with the cloth Euphemia had ordered.

"I hope by the time you return, you'll be in control again," Euphemia said. "I noticed last night everyone enjoyed the food served. Will you admit now that I was right to change the cooks?"

Brenna stared at the woman in disbelief. Why in God's name did she want to talk about food now?

Netta thought Brenna didn't remember her plan to pretend to replace Ada and hurried to nudge her memory before she said something she shouldn't.

"You had Ada replaced, mi'lady. Remember?"

"Yes, I remember," she answered in a strained whisper.

"Go along now," Euphemia ordered. "It distresses me to see you in such a pitiful condition."

Brenna ran outside before she realized she should have gone up to her bedroom so that she would have complete privacy. She wasn't about to go back inside, because she knew if Euphemia said one more word to her before her panic was under control, she would start screaming and never stop.

She reached the seclusion of the trees, fell to her knees, and broke into heart-wrenching sobs.

Connor… Dear God, how she needed Connor. He would know what to do, and he was strong enough and powerful enough to take on the devil himself.

But how could she ask such a thing of him? Others depended upon him now for their survival. She knew Euphemia hadn't exaggerated the threat to Hugh's followers. Brenna remembered what had happened to her father's soldiers and her own sweet Gilly and knew without a doubt that MacNare would slaughter the peace-loving clan without a moment's hesitation.

If Connor was able to go, would she be sending him to his death? Or would he be forced to kill her father?

No, she couldn't send her husband. Who else could she send to stop this madness?

Greed. It all began and ended with greed. Her father had struck this bargain to gain an alliance, just as MacNare had, and neither man had considered what the ramifications would be. Consumed with lust for power, their greed controlled their minds and their hearts, leaving the innocents to be preyed upon.

But not Faith. Brenna would die before she would let MacNare touch her sister. Please, God, help me think of someone to… help me… help me.

Sobbing, she bowed her head and clasped her hands to her heart, and in that dark moment of desolation, her prayer was answered.

There was another she could send, the man who had taken her hand and vowed to do anything she asked of him, who was even stronger than Connor. He wouldn't deny her.

The war had begun.

Connor stood on the rise above Hugh's keep, his gaze directed on the hills beyond, his thoughts centered on the past as he once again searched for the answer that had eluded him for many years.

Quinlan joined him a few minutes later. "MacNare's playing a game with us, Connor. What's his real purpose?"

"He wants to keep us busy defending the border between his land and Hugh's until his allies join him."

"Surely he knows you've done the same thing."

"He knows. He's deliberately sacrificing the small number of soldiers he sends on each attack, knowing full well they'll all die, but this land isn't his immediate goal. He can easily claim it after he attacks me."

"Do you think the soldier was telling the truth about your wife's sister, or was that just another ploy to divide our forces?"

"Dying men usually tell the truth. It doesn't really matter though. I must still make certain Faith is protected from MacNare."

Quinlan silently agreed. "You've waited a long time for this day to come. I have a feeling you'll be able to claim your father's sword from Kincaid and end this once and for all."

Connor turned to him. "But why now? What does MacNare know that I don't? We could destroy him and his allies. He isn't a fool; he knows our numbers. Why would a coward who all these years has only provoked me with small, insignificant attacks, suddenly become so aggressive?"

"I don't have an answer for you, but I do know you can't be everywhere at once. I wish to God we could end it tomorrow. Attack his holding before he attacks us."

"Be patient, Quinlan. I'm not going to put any of the MacAlisters in jeopardy. I'm taking every precaution in the meantime. God willing, any day now I will find out who the others are before I'm forced to kill MacNare."

"You think someone else is controlling MacNare?"

"I do," he answered. "Whoever he is, he's damned clever."

"What about Faith? You can't go into England now."

"No, but you can. Leave at dawn tomorrow and take ten others with you. This could be a trap," he warned.

"Of course," Quinlan agreed. "What am I to do with the woman once I have her?"

"Do whatever you wish to do, as long as she remains safe," he answered.

Connor's smile confused his friend. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

"It's about time you got married, isn't it?"

The border attacks intensified, and even though it took very little effort to maintain his position, Connor was still required to stay away from his holding much longer than he had anticipated.

He slept a few hours each day, and used the cover of darkness at night to move Hugh's followers to safety. If all continued to go according to his schedule, every man, woman, and child would be well-hidden from MacNare's clutches in just two more days. He had met with resistance from some of the older men, and only after he had promised on the soul of his father that they would all be able to return to their land as soon as the conflict was finished, did he gain their cooperation.

The rest was up to his brother, Alec. Connor would wait for as long as he dared while Alec tried to find out who was in league with MacNare; yet as the days lengthened into a full week, it became apparent the truth would continue to elude him.

And it would happen all over again. Whoever was controlling MacNare wouldn't give up, and Connor's greatest nightmare was that he would die without knowing who his enemy was… just as his father had.

For several days Brenna tried to remain calm and keep her mind on the normal activities of the holding. She was on her way back from visiting with Lothar when Netta caught up with her. The servant immediately noticed her mistress wasn't wearing the leather necklace.

"You aren't wearing your medallion, mi'lady."

"No, I'm not."

"But you always wear it. I wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't worn your hair up today. Have you misplaced it?"

Brenna removed the ribbon from her hair and let her curls fall down around her shoulders. If Netta had noticed, Crispin would too, she reasoned, and she didn't like the idea of lying to Connor's close friend.

"The medallion will show up any day now," she said. "You needn't worry about it."

Netta wasn't quite finished discussing the matter. "I know it isn't in your room. I only just finished cleaning it, and I would have found it for you if it was there. Our laird's medallion is on the chest in the very same spot as yesterday. You never lose yours, mi'lady. Did you look on the chest in the hall?"

"Not yet," she answered before she tried to change the subject. "How did you get away from Lady Euphemia?"

"She's resting. As soon as she awakens, she wants me to pack her clothing."

"She's leaving?" Heaven help her, she couldn't contain her smile.

Netta laughed. "She told me she had decided against waiting for her stepson to come back and plans to leave tomorrow morning. I think she feels she's being ignored by our laird."

"He hasn't been ignoring her. Surely she realizes how busy he is."

"Did he send a message to you today?"

"Yes, he did. He assures me all is well and that he will be home soon."

"But that is the very same message he sends you every day."

"He is being considerate, Netta. That is all that matters to me."

"Mi'lady, may I ask a favor of you?"

"Yes, of course."

"After Lady MacAlister leaves, will you tell me why she made you cry last week? I know I shouldn't ask you, but I worry about you. So does Ada. We've both become very fond of you," she added with a nod.

"I'm very fond of you too, Netta. As soon as I know the problem has been taken care of, I will tell you what she said to me."

"Thank you, mi'lady. Were you going inside?"

"Yes."

"Did you have any duties for me?"

"None that I can think of. You might as well enjoy your afternoon of freedom. I'm going to change my shoes and go riding."

"Have you warned Crispin?" Netta asked with a grin.

"He's occupied for the moment checking the work on the wall outside the holding. You needn't concern yourself that I'll ride the black. Davis hid him from me."

Netta burst into laughter. "Is Davis still closing his eyes every time you go inside his stable?"

"Yes, but he refuses to tell me why."

Brenna watched Netta run across the courtyard. Her own thoughts were on her sister as she went inside and ran up the steps to her bedroom. Waiting to hear that Faith was all right was extremely difficult, and the only way she had been able to get any sleep at all was to put the matter in God's hands. She had done everything she could. The rest was up to Him.

She swung the door open and hurried across the chamber. She spotted her dagger on the chest next to the bed and had to shake her head over her own forgetfulness. She really needed to force herself to slow down so that she wouldn't continue to lose her things. She quickly picked up the dagger to put back in its sheath.

She heard the squeak of the door as it closed behind her, assumed the wind coming in through the windows was responsible. She was just about to sit down on the bed to remove her shoes when she heard the lock clicking into place.

She knew, before she turned around, who was inside the room with her.

And then she saw him. Raen stood in front of the door, and as her scream gathered in her throat, he slowly removed his shirt.

Crispin was informed of Raen's arrival by the soldier in charge of the drawbridge.

"He and three others came back a few minutes ago. Raen's the only one who crossed the bridge, though. His companions are waiting in the meadow below. I can see them from here," he called down. "Raen told me he had gone to pay his respects to Hugh and wanted only to tell his mother farewell before he left again. He suggested I leave the drawbridge down, which, of course, I refused to do. You'll see his horse is still wearing his saddle, Crispin, so he really means to leave soon."

Crispin left his mount with Davis and started up the hill. His mistress had told him she was afraid of Raen, and Crispin was going to stay close to her side until Connor's stepbrother left again.

The closer he got to the keep, the quicker he moved. He couldn't explain why he suddenly felt as though his mistress was in danger, but the feeling intensified until he was running to get to her.

And then he heard her scream. His heart slammed inside his chest as he reached for his sword. "Son of a bitch." He whispered the curse the first time, shouted it the second.

Everyone was running to the courtyard. The silence after such an anguished scream terrified all of them.

Crispin reached the top of the path when he heard a man's shout. Jarred, he looked up. There in the window was Raen clutching at his shoulder, teetering and swaying like a tree giving way to the ax, then plunging backward into the air. He twisted in a useless attempt to land on his feet, screaming in horror, and then crashed, face first, into the ground with a soft thud.

And on Crispin ran. Dear God, let her be alive, he prayed. He leapt over Raen, raced up to the door, and pulled it open as Brenna came charging outside.

He stopped dead in his tracks. The look on her face was more terrifying than her cry for help. Her eyes were glazed over, her face was stark white, and there was blood everywhere. Her left arm was covered in it, for the skin was splayed open from the top of her shoulder to the bottom of her wrist. More blood covered her shoulders and neck, and her clothing looked as though an animal had shredded it with its claws.

He didn't know how she was able to stand. He reached for her, but she evaded him and ran down the steps.

"Hurry, Crispin, Hurry. You have to help me," she sobbed. "We have to hide him."

A crowd of soldiers surrounded the body. They stepped back when she ran closer. Their expressions showed their shock and their outrage.

"I didn't push him out the window… No, no, I didn't… His feet got caught in his plaid when I thrust my knee into his groin… yes. I meant to hurt him so he wouldn't… He was holding me down, but the dagger was in my hand then… When he rolled over… it went… and he jumped, Crispin. He did, he jumped… and then he fell."

She grabbed hold of Crispin's hand and tried to pull him forward. "Don't you understand? We have to hide him… She can't see her son like this. Oh, God, I have to tell Connor… I couldn't let him… He touched me, his mouth was on my skin, Crispin… I couldn't let him… She told me I should, but I couldn't… No, I wouldn't," she screamed.

"Euphemia told you to submit to her son?" Crispin demanded in outrage.

"Yes, but I couldn't… He tried, but he fell before he could…"

She stopped rambling, let go of his hand, bent down to take hold of one of Raen's feet, and tried to drag him away.

"Mi'lady, let go of him. Let me help you," Crispin said.

"Yes, help me. We'll hide him before she knows he came back. All right?"

"Yes," he promised, his voice calm, his goal to reassure her. "We'll hide him."

"Mi'lady, your dagger is in his back," Owen whispered. "Do you want me to get it for you?"

"No, no," she cried out.

Crispin shook his head at Owen, telling him without words to keep his mouth closed.

"Connor will never forgive me. Oh, God, what have I done? I've killed his brother… No, she can't see him. Help me, Crispin. Please. I want Connor."

He slowly put his hand out to her. She frantically shook her head at him. "No, I'm not clean. He touched me with his hands and his mouth…"

And then she threw herself into his arms. "Take me to the lake. All right?"

"Yes, mi'lady," he lied. "I'll take you to the lake."

She patted his arm. "Thank you. I've gone and done it, haven't I?"

"Done what?"

"I killed him."

"No, he destroyed himself. He deserved to die. Connor would have killed him for you."

"Will he hate me?"

She fainted in his arms before he could answer her.

Donald moved forward, his dagger in his hand, pulled his plaid from his shoulder and sliced it into two long strips to his waist.

Crispin held Brenna in his arms and turned so that Donald could bind the injury with the material. He spoke in a low whisper when he gave his orders. "You're taking the watch for as long as I'm away. I'm taking her to Lady Kincaid. She'll need stitches," he added. "Giric, you take others, surround the three soldiers waiting for the bastard in the meadow. Bring them inside the keep and make them stay by the stables."

"What about Connor's stepmother?"

"Donald, you tell her what happened. If she wants to take his body home, let her, but not one of Connor's soldiers escorts her. Understand?"

"Yes," Donald answered.

"Aeden, find Connor and tell him what happened. Assure him his wife will be all right. Don't paint it any darker than it already is."

"Will she die?" Owen whispered, terrified by the possibility.

"No, she won't die. Donald, no one but our own comes inside the fortress until Connor, Alec, Quinlan, or I come back."

"Will you leave her with the Kincaids?" Owen asked.

"No. I'm staying with her until Connor gets to her."

"Do the three soldiers with Raen stay even if Euphemia leaves?"

"They leave with her."

Donald finished binding her injury, nodded to Crispin, and went to the stables to get his commander's horse. He called orders as he ran. He wanted a full contingent riding with his mistress, and everyone was ready to leave immediately.

"Leave the dagger in his shoulder," Crispin ordered. He was so furious now, his voice shook with rage. "She told Connor's wife to submit to her son. God help her when our laird finds out."

"Do you want me to tell him?" Aeden asked.

"Tell him everything, but make sure he understands she won't die. He has grown extremely fond of his wife."

Crispin started across the courtyard, stopped, and then turned back toward Raen and spit on him.

Blessedly, Brenna didn't awaken until they were dismounting in Kincaid's courtyard. Alec and Jamie stood in the doorway. Alec blanched when he saw Brenna's condition. Jamie began to weep. She put her hand to her mouth to keep herself from crying out.

Brenna asked Crispin to let her walk. She took hold of his arm and slowly made her way toward the steps. Crispin noticed the glazed look was still in her eyes and knew it was going to take her a long while to recover from the horror she'd endured.

Brenna stopped in front of Alec. "I killed Connor's stepbrother."

And then she turned to Jamie. In a bewildered voice, she said, "Now she's never going to like me."

Alec lifted her into his arms and carried her inside. "It's all right, Brenna. Your husband likes you, and so do we."

"Alec?"

"Yes?"

"I'm so sorry."