Page 21 of The Highlander’s Auctioned Bride

CHAPTER 21

James lay beside Maisie in his bed stroking her hair and feeling her warmth. The soothing beat of her heart was a comfort to him after the turmoil of the previous evening.

The healer had prescribed a good deal of rest and had bandaged the wound. James had not left Maisie’s side since, and he was surprised to find that he had no wish to.

Usually, he would be eager to get to his duties, his overflowing desk laden with requests and letters from his clan, but in the quiet of the room, it felt like it was just him and Maisie. For an unexpected moment, he didn’t wish to be anywhere else.

His peace was quickly shattered, however, by a loud rapping at the door. Maisie shifted in her sleep with a moan, and he gave a low curse as he gently pulled himself from her body and walked to the door.

He opened the door to Bram Wallace’s expectant gaze.

“Yes?” he said, leaving the room and pulling the door to behind him so they didn’t disturb her.

“Me laird, is all well with Lady MacLennan?”

“She is doin’ better, thank ye, Bram. What news?”

Maisie stirred, turning over in the bed, missing the heat of James’s body.

Her leg was hurting damnably, and she could feel it throbbing beneath the bandage even now. She was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open, but she listened closely as James raised his voice outside the door.

“I am nae interested in clan affairs just now. What news of me wife’s attacker?”

Maisie strained to hear, it sounded like Bram’s voice outside as he spluttered in reply. He clearly had not anticipated that James MacLennan would turn down a chance to hear about clan business.

“Me laird, I know not?—”

“Someone tried to kill my wife not twelve hours ago. An attack we have nae explanation and nae justification for. Unless this business concerns her, I dinnae wish to hear it. The council can decide what to dae about everythin’ else until the killer is brought to justice. If ye dinnae bring me news of this by tonight, I shall start takin’ heads.”

Maisie felt a smile spread over her face at those words. James was finally choosing her over his clan. Even if it was only due to the attack, she was grateful that he cared enough to stay with her and demand the man was caught.

She shivered as she recalled the calculating stare on his face as he held up the bow. His hand had not shaken, his aim had been sure. If she had not turned just at that second—if Lily had not reacted on instinct—she might be dead now.

Who would do this?

She lay back down on the bed as she heard James’s soft footfalls return behind her. The bed dipped as he climbed onto the mattress, putting his arm around her carefully and mindful of her leg.

“Are ye in pain?” he asked.

“Nae,” she lied. “What did Bram want?”

“It doesnae matter. I am here with ye and that’s where I’ll stay.”

With those words warming her heart, she closed her eyes and settled down for some much-needed sleep.

Maisie woke alone.

She sat up in bed, alarmed at finding James gone. She looked about the room and then saw she had been mistaken. He was sitting at the desk at the side of the room contemplating her chess board with interest.

She smiled at his perplexed expression as he moved a piece, clearly not realizing she was awake.

“Who is winnin’?” she asked, and he was by her side in moments.

“Are ye all right?”

“Yes,” she said, happy that he was still with her. “Me leg hurts a little but nae too much.”

“How dae ye play that game alone? It is the height of tedium,” he complained.

“Perhaps ye need a better opponent,” she offered and received a scowl in return.

“Let me see yer leg,” he said gently and raised her skirts so that he could look at it. The bandage was soiled now and would need replacing, but other than a dull throb, the pain was not too bad.

“I suppose it will only hurt if I walk on it,” she said thoughtfully.

“And ye willnae be doin’ that. Or anythin’ else alone for a few days until we have dealt with whoever did this to ye.”

“A few days ? I am inside the castle James, nothin’ can happen to me here.”

“And how dae ye ken that? We dinnae ken who has tried to hurt ye, and with the weddin’ just gone it might be anyone. Ye will stay in here with a guard at the door to ensure ye are safe,” James said decisively.

“Now wait one moment, James MacLennan?—"

“If ye hadn’t left the castle without me permission in the first place this wouldnae have happened!”

Maisie gaped at him. “I was tryin’ to help ye!”

“And what were ye goin’ to say to the MacCarthys? Ye couldnae even find their property.”

Maisie moved away from him but winced as it jarred her leg.

“I was goin’ to see if they could be reasoned with. Ye said the feud started recently, why would it suddenly spring up without warnin’?”

“That I dinnae ken, but it is resolved anyhow.”

“Really?” Maisie asked.

“Aye,” James said shortly, looking away with an awkward expression.

Maisie crossed her arms over her chest. “And how is that?”

He glanced at her irritably and sighed. “Because I offered to buy Abingdon out and he’s agreed that the Campbell land can be absorbed into the MacLennan clan for a fee.”

“So, ye did what I said, and it worked.”

He cleared his throat. “Aye.”

“Yet I am incapable of helpin’ accordin’ to ye.”

“Would ye leave it, woman?” he asked with exasperation. “I am tryin’ to protect ye.”

Maisie scoffed but James looked at her with a more despairing look than she had ever seen from him before.

“I dinnae want to go through that again. When I couldnae find ye… promise me ye will stay inside, at least while yer leg is healin’.”

“I am nae an animal to be caged and let out when ye see fit,” she retorted.

“Nae, if that were true I would tie ye to me bed in me chambers and ye wouldnae leave unless I released ye,” he said darkly and a wave of arousal rushed through her as he said it.

“Harris is outside the door,” James continued doggedly. “And he willnae leave ye alone. If ye wish to roam the castle, he has me orders to remain with ye, so dinnae give him nae trouble.”

He stood up and walked to the door.

“Where are ye going?” she asked, feeling bereft after having his presence and his scent around her for nearly twenty-four hours.

“I am goin’ to find out who did this, and then I’m goin’ to kill him.”

James made his way to the village dressed in farming clothes, trying to blend in as much as possible.

He knew that many in the village would recognize him if they saw him in his house colors or in the context of the castle, but he’d wager with his hair tied back and ordinary clothes; they might not be so quick to notice him.

He intended to search the taverns and alehouses in town and ask around. The clan was small enough that a newcomer with a scar down his face would have been remembered. Everyone had to sleep; it could be that he’d taken a bed for the night somewhere close by.

James was well aware that his choice of bride had ruffled a few feathers. In truth it had ruffled his feathers—he had certainly not expected to wed Maisie when he first met her.

But there was no excuse for the type of attack she had endured. Images of her slumped over Lily’s back with an arrow in her heart, blood streaming over that white coat, kept flitting through his mind. He would find the culprit and make an example of him.

The third establishment he entered was far less pleasant than the first two, and exactly the kind of place he’d been hoping for. It was at the back end of the town, under a black awning that used to be some kind of apothecary. The pub smelled of chemicals and something musty and unpleasant that stung his nostrils.

He took a seat at the bar, bought a pint of ale, and looked around at the patrons. Many were elderly men sitting in groups, stooped over their tankards, or discussing the state of the world. All of them were tired and run down—this was just the type of place the man might come.

As he sat there nursing his pint, he became aware of a man in the corner, slumped over his drink, a knife held at the tip in his fingers as he spun it repeatedly into the wood. The light was not good enough to see him well.

James stayed perfectly still waiting for the man to catch his eye. As soon as he did, his fingers tightened on the handle of his knife, and after the briefest pause, he made a run for it.

James launched himself from his stool in pursuit.

He barged through the door and into the street, seeing the fleeing figure several houses down from him. James was impressed that someone so wide could move so fast.

Unfortunately for the scarred man, however, James knew the town like the back of his hand. He skipped sideways down an alley, coming out by a rear wall where he sprinted down another street and cut the man off before he could turn right.

James drew his sword, but the man was ready for him. He did not stop, throwing his sword arm up with a clash of steel as he ran past James and through a dark street with barely any illumination.

Wary of a trap, James followed him, his sword still out, his eyes looking into every corner for any other opponents.

He rounded the corner and saw the fellow trip ahead of him. He sprawled onto the floor but was on his feet in seconds. James was too quick for him and kicked his legs from under him as the man hollered loudly.

James flipped him onto his front, binding his hands in a makeshift knot and dragging him across the uneven flagstone to the edge of a small fountain.

James placed the tip of his sword at the man’s throat.

“Who paid ye?”

The man spat on the blade. “Go to the devil.”

“I will ask ye only once more, and I may spare yer life. Who sent ye after me wife, ye dinnae look intelligent enough to come up with that plan yerself.”

“Ye dinnae ken a thing, me laird. Ye should watch those closest to ye,” the man said cryptically.

“Tell me who paid ye!” James bellowed, and the man cackled gleefully just as James saw a flash of metal at his belt as he tried to bring a blade up and into his thigh. With little thought, James sliced his sword through the man’s throat. Blood spurted as he collapsed to the ground.

James stared ahead of him, furious that he had had his suspicions confirmed. It was a member of his staff or council who had betrayed him. He was sure of it. He looked down at the dead man at his feet, and his heart pounded with unsatisfied rage.

Who would wish to hurt her? Who would be so bold as to try?