Page 45 of Highlander Redeemed (Guardians of the Targe #3)

T HE DAWN BATTLE had been only the beginning of a long and arduous day.

The Guardians had spent most of the morning making sure the Highland Targe was stable as they learned how to feed it with the energy Rowan pulled through the Targe stone, directed at such a great distance by Scotia’s knowing , and Jeanette’s visions.

The warriors who were not badly injured collected the bodies of the dead.

The Scots were buried in the meadow just east of the castle, a stone cairn marking each grave.

The English were loaded into carts to be taken to the place Rowan had dropped a ledge on the soldiers who had accompanied Archie into their glen.

Once they were all there the Guardians would pull down the rest of the outcropping and bury them all in the stone.

Jeanette had wanted to tend the injured, but Malcolm convinced her that the warriors could tend their own until the Guardians were done with their work. As soon as they were, she had tirelessly stitched and bound wounds until she had run out of supplies.

Once all the English had been moved, the Guardians returned to their place by the well, and as if they had been working together for years instead of less than a day, they quickly finished the job of burying their enemies.

More than enough food and blankets had been found in the English camp, so the MacAlpins and their allies gathered round the fires for the night .

Scotia had not left Duncan’s side since they had found their way out of the castle sometime in the late afternoon, following their noses and growling stomachs to where Rowan had managed to put two large pots of stew over a fire.

Jeanette had restitched Duncan’s previous injury and marveled that his many others were nothing more than scratches and a couple of shallow cuts that had already stopped bleeding.

Now Scotia lay near a fire wrapped in a plaid and cradled against Duncan’s chest. One of his arms stretched out beneath her head while the other one was tucked tightly around her waist, as if even in his exhausted sleep he would not let her wander away from him.

Not that she had any intention of doing so.

She had watched the sky all through the short summer night, unable to sleep though she had never been so tired in all her days.

Was King Edward, the Hammer of the Scots, well and truly dead?

And if so, would his son take up his father’s crusade against them?

At least they would not be able to harry the MacAlpins again, and for that she could not give enough thanks.

As dawn began to lighten the sky she could lie still no longer and slowly, carefully sat up, letting Duncan’s arm drape over her lap so he would know, even in his sleep, that she had not left him.

Conall sat nearby. He had a long cut along the left side of his face, and his blond hair was tangled with dried blood on that side.

“That will scar,” she said to him.

“Aye. Perhaps now Uilliam will stop calling me a wee daft laddie?”

Scotia smiled. “Perhaps, though he kens it bothers you, so probably not.”

A silence fell between them, and Scotia thought there was more Conall wanted to say.

“What?” she asked.

“You love him,” he said, and she noted it was not a question. “You have always loved him, have you not? ”

She looked down at Duncan and ran her fingers through his soft curly hair, still amazed that she had the right to touch him this way, and knew the honesty she had embraced of late must continue with Conall.

“Aye.” She looked back at Conall. “Though in truth I did not realize it until very recently. I did not mean to dally with your heart, Conall, and I ask your forgiveness and understanding if I have hurt you through my own denial of my true feelings.”

He said nothing, but she could see him struggling with her words in the stiffness of his shoulders and the set of his jaw.

She had hurt him, and for that she was truly sorry.

It would seem her penance for past behavior was not finished with today’s victory.

She took a deep breath and rubbed the night’s grit from her eyes.

“I understand if you cannot forgive me,” she said, hoping her voice conveyed the sincerity of her words. “I am ashamed of my past behavior and any pain it may cause you, but I cannot lie to myself, or anyone else anymore.”

He stood as if to leave her, then stopped.

“I kent it all along.” He hooked his thumbs into his belt, and looked away from her.

“I was so proud when you chose me that I did not want to believe your heart was given elsewhere, though ’twas clear to everyone but you.

If you are guilty of lying to yourself, so am I, and I cannot hold you solely responsible for what happened between us. ”

Scotia realized in that moment that Conall truly was no longer the lovesick lad she had dallied with, any more than she was the same lass. They had both grown up, and now they were both taking responsibility for their actions. “I thank you for that understanding. It is more than I dared hope for.”

He gave her a curt nod, looking down at Duncan once more. “Do not hurt him, Scotia. He does not deserve that.”

She tried to swallow, but the lump in her throat made that difficult as she looked down at the man who had stolen her heart before she even knew it. “I will never hurt him on purpose again,” she finally said. Conall seemed content with that answer and left them by the fire alone.

“That was well done.” Duncan’s voice was raspy and quiet, as if he did not have the energy to push it fully into the air. “Do you really love me?” He opened his eyes enough to peer up at her.

“I do. Can you forgive me for all the trouble I have caused you and the clan? I truly did not see how my actions hurt so many others.”

“And now?” he asked, sitting up beside her and twining his fingers with hers.

“Can you ever see me as anything but a spoiled wean?”

“I already do, Scotia. Can you not tell? You have proved yourself changed over and over again in the past few days.”

“I need you to know that I will do everything I can to be worthy of your love, your trust, and of my position as Guardian of the Targe. I need you by my side, Duncan. I am my best self when I am with you. I need you to be my friend, and my champion, as you have been my entire life.” She looked down at their joined hands for a moment and let the multitude of emotions this man set off in her settle into one, the love for him that nearly overwhelmed her.

She raised her gaze to his. “But I want more.”

He said nothing, but she thought he was holding his breath.

“Duncan, I love you more than I can say, more than my heart can hold. I cannot imagine a day without you by my side ... and in my bed.” She waggled her eyebrows at him, teasing him even in this serious moment, but also telling the truth.

She sobered. “If you feel even half of what I do, please say that you will be my Protector, my husband.”

Now it was she who held her breath, but the grin that spread over his beloved face took away any doubt that he would not want her.

“You will be the death of me, my warrior lass. I love you with all my heart. I would be proud to be your Protector, and prouder still to call you wife.” He pulled her close and kissed her, softly at first, and then more deeply, infusing the press of his lips, the slide of his tongue against hers, with so much longing, so much passion, a searing heat flashed through her, pooling low in her belly as a desire unlike any she had felt before nearly overwhelmed her.

“There is one condition, though,” he said against her lips, as if he’d only just thought of it. He pulled away from her just far enough to look her in the eye, leaving her breathless and unsettled. His grin was gone, replaced by a familiar serious expression.

“What?”

“I dinna want to wait. Not a single day. I have waited a long time for you, Scotia.” He ran his fingers over her cheek, then slid his hand down her neck and over her chest, letting his fingers lightly skim over her breast. Her breath hitched at his feathery touch.

“I am done waiting.” The rasp in his voice, as if he fought to hold himself in check even now when he knew she was his, opened her heart so wide it ached.

She laid her palm against his cheek and lightly kissed his lips, only now noting the scrape of his whiskers against her skin.

“I am done waiting, as well, Duncan, and I would say our vows right here and now, but we need the entire clan to celebrate with us.” She quirked one eyebrow at him.

“I’ll not have you backing out three days hence, saying vows were not said. ”

He smiled and sighed. “You are right. We need to do this before everyone. You are a Guardian, and if I am to be your Protector, we must be wed in front of the entire clan. So today, at the caves, before the sun sets again.” He scrambled to his feet and pulled her up and into his arms for another searing kiss that had them both holding so fast to the other there was no room between them.

“Ahem.”

Scotia heard the sound but did not think anything of it as she lost herself in the feel of his hard chest pressed against her breasts, the softness of Duncan’s lips, the slip of his tongue over hers, and the heat of his desire that was oh so evident .

“Ye might want to stop what you are about to do with Kenneth’s daughter, seeing as he is standing right here.”

The kiss continued until the words finally filtered through. She stopped the kiss, and they looked at each other for a moment. Laughter danced in his eyes and threatened to bubble out of her, carried into the air on sheer joy.

“Duncan, ye might want to take a step away from the lassie,” Uilliam said.