Page 20 of To Wed a Laird (English Brides and Highland Vows #1)
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Cormac paced his study, where he had come to collect his sword, from wall to wall, trying to clear his mind of the picture of Rose’s face the last time he had seen her.
He was cold, and his heart was filled with dread.
One moment they had been passionately tangled together in a loving embrace, the next he had opened his mouth, said something utterly stupid and driven Rose away.
Nell had been right. No matter how much he had loved Catherine, she was in his past, and Rose was his present and his future.
In his dream, Catherine had told him Rose was a good woman and had given him her blessing—not, of course, that he needed it, but it helped to dispel the guilt he had felt previously.
Now his mind was clear; he loved Rose, and he would tell her so and ask her to marry him so that they could finally be together—if he had not driven her away entirely.
Nell had said she thought Rose might be in the village, so he decided to make it his first port of call; if she was not there, he could think of nothing else to do. He began to panic. What if she had injured herself during the ride? What if he was unable to find her? The prospect was horrendous.
There were bandits out in these wild parts, kidnappers who could and would hold her for ransom, and especially if they found out that she was a Sassenach? Then, god help her! Ordinary folk would give her a hard time, but bandits and outlaws would spare her no mercy at all.
Cormac strode into the stables, his expression grim and determined. He did not wait for a stable hand to saddle Broch, but did it himself, then leapt onto the horse and thundered out of the castle.
With this thought, Cormac spurred Broch on until they were halfway to the village, when he began to tire, and he realised that he was asking too much of his poor stallion.
He growled softly as he allowed the horse to slow down, consumed by impatience, but there was nothing else he could do apart from run the rest of the way, and that would take too long.
Cormac battled on the rest of the way, his mind seething, his heart pounding with apprehension and impatience.
Eventually, he saw the buildings of the village in the distance, and the sight gave him fresh impetus.
He thundered into Inverrigg, and Broch skidded to a halt in front of the Shorn Sheep Tavern.
Cormac swung out of the saddle and headed for the entrance. The customers inside were not only startled, but terrified as the biggest man most of them had ever seen burst through the doors, making them shudder on their hinges and bang against the wall.
The man behind the bar jumped backwards, his eyes widening as he took in the man he now knew was his Laird advancing towards him with a face like a thunderstorm.
Cormac, seeing the man’s face, realised how fearsome he must look. “I am sorry I frightened you,” he said, leaning on the counter and trying to calm down. “Has a young woman with long chestnut hair and very dark eyes been in here? She is English, so I am afraid for her safety.”
“Aye, M’Laird,” he replied. “But she left a while ago.”
“How long ago?” Cormac asked desperately. “Was she alone?”
“As far as I could see, aye, M’Laird. I was too busy tae look,” the man replied.
Cormac’s heart began to pound hard with fear, then he chastised himself; Rose could at this moment be walking home unaware of the fact that he had followed her, or was even concerned about her at all.
“Thank you.” He tossed a coin on the counter top and said: “If she comes back, please tell her I was here. Her name is Rose, and this is very important.”
“I will, M’Laird,” the man replied as he smiled and slipped the coin into his pocket. “Thank ye, but be careful. Some o’ the lads are nasty bits o’ work.” He looked genuinely worried, and Cormac nodded.
“Thank you for your concern,” he said, “but I think I can handle myself.”
He frowned and opened his mouth to ask him another question about the thugs, but that was when they heard the scream. It was a woman’s scream, but it lasted no more than a second before it was abruptly cut off.
The noise stung him with a shock that galvanised him into action, causing him to spin around and sprint through the door again into the square. He looked around desperately to find the source of the sound, his heart hammering, breath coming in great gulps.
“Rose! Where are you?” he yelled.
As if in answer to his summons, the scream came again, muffled but still audible. He roared in answer to it, unheeding that he had given away his location.
He charged into the shadowed space from where he had heard the muffled scream, and was horrified to see Rose lying on the ground. She was being pinned there by a big man, who was laughing uproariously at her helplessness.
Two other men were watching, both quaffing beer and tossing disgusting taunts at her.
Cormac’s rage boiled over, and he rushed towards them, whipping out his sword as he went. The men looked up and immediately backed away, leaving Rose on her own for a moment. She took the chance to scramble to her feet and run forward, pushing the small, fat man sideways as she went.
Although she did not have the strength to knock him down, she unbalanced him enough to make him stagger into one of the other men. They were standing so close together that Cormac’s broadsword took care of them with one swipe, slashing across their stomachs.
They collapsed, both bleeding profusely, as they landed on the muddy ground. They writhed, screaming in pain, for a few moments before both of them stilled and were silent.
However, while Cormac’s attention had been focused on the first two thugs, the third had circled around behind him. He was holding a dagger in his hand, the sunlight gleaming off its lethally sharp edge.
Cormac had his back to the man, though, and for a few seconds he was unable to see the threat behind him. However, Rose did. She screamed, then acted thoughtlessly and threw herself into the path of the blade before it descended on Cormac.
The pain took a few seconds to hit her, but when it did, it was sharp and agonising, and she let out another piercing scream and fell to the ground.
The last thing she saw before the world went black was the sight of Cormac running her attacker through with the lethal point of his sword, roaring savagely as he did so.
He rushed to her side and bent over her as she closed her eyes and lapsed into unconsciousness, and it was only then that he noticed the blood leaking from the wound in her shoulder.
“Rose,” he cried. “Rose! Don’t leave me when I only just found you, I need you. Please stay with me!”
Rose’s dark eyes fluttered open for a few seconds before they closed again, then her head lolled to the side, and she blacked out once more.
Cormac picked her up gently, then walked to the tavern and asked the landlord for a piece of cloth which he could use as a bandage for Rose’s wound.
“Who did this, M’Laird?” he asked fearfully.
“I have no idea what their names were,” Cormac replied grimly. “But they will not be doing it again.”
“Did-did ye take care of them, M’Laird?” the man asked. He looked so scared that Cormac hastened to reassure him.
“I know one of them is dead,” he replied, “and two are wounded, but still alive, I think. I want them to stay that way because death is too quick for them. But do not worry about reprisals because my men will be scouring the area very soon.”
As he finished speaking, he tied off the bandage on Rose’s shoulder. She was very pale, but Cormac was relieved to feel that her skin was still warm, and her heart was still beating strongly. He sighed with relief, and that was the moment he realised that he could not live without Rose.
The healer took one look at Rose’s shoulder and frowned deeply. “I will have tae clean an’ stitch this,” she told Cormac. “It is no’ very deep, but she has lost quite a bit o’ blood, an’ she will be in some pain.”
She paused, then took a deep breath. “I am sorry, M’Laird, but I have been attacked an’ injured by people who didnae like me causin’ pain tae their loved ones, even if it will make them better in the end. Even though I know ye willnae dae that, may I ask ye tae wait outside?”
“No,” was Cormac’s first reaction. “I will not! She needs me by her side!”
“I understand, M’Laird,” the young woman said sympathetically, but she held his gaze while she answered, and her voice remained steady. “But ye will only get in the way, an’ the longer ye stand here talkin’ tae me the longer it will take tae help her.”
Cormac realised she was right, since she was speaking with the voice of experience, and he sighed, nodded and left the room with the utmost reluctance. He would not have been able to bear the sight of Rose bleeding again, and he knew it.
For the second time that day he found himself pacing up and down worrying about Rose. What if she died? What if her injury was so bad that she could never move her arms again?
What if? What if? What if? He growled in frustration.
Presently he heard the sound of light footsteps running along the corridor towards him, and a moment later Elspeth appeared from around a corner, ran up to him and threw herself into his arms.
“I just heard about Rose,” she told him, sobbing. Her eyes widened as she saw the blood on his tunic. “Are you hurt?” she asked fearfully.
Cormac shook his head. “No, sweetheart,” he replied. “That belongs to the man who tried to hurt Rose. I took care of him, he will not hurt anyone again.”
He had no idea if Elspeth understood what he was telling her, but she asked no more questions, merely leaned her head on his chest.
“Is she going to die, Da?” she asked fearfully. She raised her head to look at him, blue eyes looking into blue eyes.
Cormac pulled his daughter more tightly into his arms. “No, Elspeth,” he replied firmly. “She is not going to die; she is going to stay with us now because we need her, and she needs us. She is ours now, and we are hers.”
Cormac desperately hoped he was not lying because he would hate to lose both Rose and Elspeth’s love, but he could not put doubt in Elspeth’s mind since she needed hope more than anything else at that moment.
Then, while he was holding her, he realised that Elspeth already thought of Rose as her mother. He needed Rose to live for both their sakes, and he needed it quite desperately.
At that moment, the healer opened the door and allowed them in. “Be very careful, an’ very quiet,” she told them. “An’ dinnae touch her wound. I have put a salve on it, but it might be quite sore still. She is daein’ well, though. I have given her a sleepin’ draught.”
“Thank you,” Cormac smiled and dropped a coin into her hand, then hastened towards the bed, but Elspeth was already there, looking into Rose’s face.
Rose was lying on her side on the opposite shoulder to the wound, and although it was clear she was still in pain, some colour had returned to her face and she looked far more peaceful than she had before.
Elspeth reached out and touched her hand, then clasped it in her own. “Don’t die, Elspeth,” she pleaded. “Stay with us, please. I love you.”
Cormac looked down into the blue eyes that were so like his own but were now shimmering with tears, then put his arms around Elspeth and pulled her close in a warm embrace.
His heart was overflowing with love for his daughter and the remarkable woman who had given him the means to feel happiness again.
Yet tempering that love was fear that it would all be snatched away from him again. He would have to go on living for Elspeth’s sake, but if he lost the second love of his life, what kind of existence would it be?