Page 40 of When a Highlander Vows (Enemies to Lovers #1)

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L ucas was already hurt, but he did not let it take away his focus. Riding in, he’d been hit by a sword which gashed him in the leg, and he could feel blood trickling down, dripping into the grass. But he would not let Jack Webster see his weakness.

They circled each other like animals just having been let out of their cages and exploring their new and dangerous world.

“Surely ye cannae believe that I will give ye this land, this castle,” Lucas mocked, gritting his teeth against the pain.

But his sword was still light in his hand.

“Nay, I will take it from ye, once I kill ye just as I ought to have killed yer father.”

“He was far too skilled a fighter,” Lucas said, deciding on his best move.

“Aye, but I kenned it would be simpler to take it from his son. Too bad ye are nearly always in residence, and me men needed time to create a plan.”

“Ye have waited long enough, I see,” Lucas said before he made the first move, lunging toward the older man, hoping to catch him off guard. “Me faither has been dead for years.”

But Jack was far lighter on his feet than Lucas expected, blocking the blow, and ducking to get in a hit of his own. They switched sides, now both breathing hard, and Lucas had a flash of fear that he could lose this duel, now that he was injured. The gash was sending up hot lines of pain up his leg. But he had time, and he had to use whatever strength he had left to fight.

He did not think about the dying men around him or the fact that many from the village had already been lost in that brief battle as he’d ridden in. He thought about the beautiful future he was about to have with Caitlin. How he’d just found happiness in her golden gaze and how he’d found redemption in the circle of her arms.

How in God’s name I thought I would wait to ask her to marry me I daenae ken.

He tried again, lunging for Jack’s throat, but the older man swept out of his way, laughing.

“Here, I’ve heard tales of yer skill in battle. The demon-faced Highlander with scars on his back and a grimace enough to put the fear of God in any man who wished to fight him. The men ye killed that night. When we came upon their bodies, it made a thread of fear weave through all me men.”

Jack jumped out of the way of another one of Lucas’ strikes, this time, hitting against Lucas’ sword and kicking him back. Lucas stumbled, grimacing over the pain in his leg, but he held strong.

“They’re still dead, whether ye believe what rumors have been said of me or nae. I was insulted that ye would only send two men.”

“Ha!” Jack said, “And now we fight just ye and me. We can return tae open battle, Laird, if ye wish, if ye find this below yer station.”

Jack moved back, holding his arms out, gesturing to his waiting men, to Lucas’ waiting men, but Lucas shook his head. He took the chance to rush forward to the cocky man, this time, getting a swing in that nicked the older man’s shoulder.

A groan was the response, and before Lucas could add another swing to the wound, he felt the cold metal against his skin, slicing along his arm, long and deep.

He cursed, and for a moment, the sight of Caitlin flashed before his eyes. The way he’d first seen her in her house, bathing in the light of the morning. How’d he come upon her stroking Percy in her arms, talking to him as if he was a gentle creature. The way he’d seen her touch Searbas gently, smilingly, the large, angry beast practically preening under her touch.

Caitlin was his future, and he was not going to lose it to an old man desperate for power, clinging to it, as if it was his lifeblood. Jack looked gleeful as Lucas’ world swam before him, and he struggled to stand a bit, as blood seeped from his wound.

“Too easy I think,” Jack said, whispering at his ear before he stepped back, pulling his sword high.

Not only Caitlin’s mind flashed before his eyes as Lucas thought about death, how easy it would come to him now. He’d thought about it for many years. He had no one besides Nan, really, and Archie, and there had been nothing to live for. He’d always expected a darkness to come and claim him one day, and so death would come as a blessing, to save him from becoming a tyrant like his father had been.

Seamus’ face came in his mind as well. His kind eyes, bright smile, the friend who had seen him through the darkest of times. The man who’d pushed beyond the cold barriers Lucas had created for himself all these years. Seamus was now one with the dead, and yet it seemed wrong, for he had been all brightness, not unlike his sister.

A voice spoke in his ear, but it was not there in front of him; he knew it was only in his mind. It was Seamus’ voice, lilting and teasing as always.

“Stand tall, ye dobber. Daenae give up now when there is so much ahead. There is so much life and adventure within yer grasp. Ye’d be a fool to waste it.”

That was it. It was all Lucas need to find the last bits of strength he had to step out of Jack’s final swing of death, take his dirk in his other hand and plunge it hard and deep into Jack’s chest. The man paused, as if frozen, his mouth open, and his eyes wide.

The battlefield was now silent, more silent than it yet had been. A choking sound from Jack was the only echo in the still space. After a few seconds, he fell back to the ground, making a heavy thunk on the grass.

A cheer rose up from the castle, or so Lucas thought, but he dropped his sword, his arm weak from the wound, and he fell down as well. He thought he heard Archie’s voice calling for him, but soon it was lost in the swirl of darkness that claimed him. Death, after all, had come at last.

Caitlin had felt a similar searing pain in her soul when she’d heard of her brother’s death. There had been no body, though. His had been relinquished into the sea. But now, the pain inside of her was even worse as she watched the body of Lucas being pulled into the castle, held by four men on a piece of leather, stretched between two wooden poles.

Archie had come for those in the hall, allowing them to leave, and Paige had run off to join the injured men as they filed down to the healer’s chambers.

“He is alive, Lass,” Archie had said, when Caitlin had stared after Lucas on his way down and down into the bowels of the castle.

“Aye?” she asked, almost drunk with fear and pain.

“Aye,” Archie nodded, looking into her eyes. “Paige will make sure he lives.”

“I am coming,” she said stalwartly, refusing to be cowed.

“Ye willnae want to see.”

“Aye, I will.” Lottie held onto her hand, and together they descended the steps to the healer’s chambers.

There were so many men come to be aided, and Paige was in a flurry of activity, moving about from one to the next. When Caitlin and Lottie came to Lucas, he lay stretched out on woolen blankets, his face pale. Paige came up to them.

“I’ve stemmed the blood flow for now, but I must clean the wound, or it will fester.” She wiped a hand over her forehead, glistening with sweat. “He will come out on the other end of it, if I dae me job.”

“So ye will,” Caitlin said, trying to force a smile.

But she couldn’t change the pallor of her cheeks or the way that Lottie looked at her grandson with fear in her eyes, completely subdued.

“Go upstairs. I will tend him,” Paige said, touching her arm. “Ye daenae need to watch this. I will have the men return him to his chamber so that he can rest there.”

“Aye, very wise, Lass,” Lottie said, pulling Caitlin away from the scene.

Upstairs, she poured Caitlin a cup of wine, forcing it into her fingers. Injured men had begun to pour into the main hall, and servants were working to provide cloth and blankets, hauling buckets of water.

“Ye should go to yer chamber, Lass,” Lottie said. “Rest a while. I will wake ye when it is time.”

“Nay,” she said. “I can help. If this is to be me home, then I can help. And I cannae sit and wait in the darkness while Lucas fades from this life. I cannae—” her voice broke, and Lottie reached out to squeeze her wrist.

“Aye, rightly so.”

Archie, once he’d finished his work came to tell them of the facts. “They ran, the lot of them, when their laird was gone, lookin’ as if they were glad for it. But they ken that Webster has nay heir. That the lands will forfeit to the closest clan until an heir can be selected. It is Lucas’ land now,” he said with a morbid laugh.

If he lives.

For the next three days, they worked, keeping injured men in as much comfort as they could, collecting bodies, sending men home to their families, and more. Over that time, she’d kept an eye on Lucas, visiting him in his chamber whenever she could, hardly sleeping as he lay with his eyes closed, his skin not yet returning to its old color.

Every evening, after a long day, she would take the stairs and go to sit with him. Taking up his hand, she kissed it.

“I love ye,” she said. “I love ye so much I feel me heart might burst. Daenae leave me. Nae when I have only just found ye.”

It was the same each day, and while Paige had been confident at first that there was no fever and no infection, Lucas still had not woke. Caitlin began to prepare her heart that he might never wake. That a matching stone would have to be erected next to her brother’s.

But on the third night, after she spoke her words of love, she stood to go, but Lucas’ hand caught hers, and she turned to see Lucas’ eyes flutter open.

“Sunshine,” he said, hoarsely, and Caitlin started to laugh and to cry, leaning up against him and nodding.

“Aye, ‘tis me. Yer awake, me love. Yer awake!”

He pointed to the basin of water next to the bed, and she dipped a cup in it, bringing it to his lips. Once he had drunk his fill, he looked at her, his eyes full of recognition. His hand brought hers to his lips.

“I couldnae die, leavin’ ye behind, Lass. Never. And never one so bonny.”

“Och,” she said, laughing, brushing a tear away from her cheek. “I love ye, Lucas,” she said boldly, knowing that she was a fool to wait, even if he was not ready, her heart had known the truth.

As she took a breath to say more, he grinned weakly. “I love ye, Lass. I have heard yer words everyday, and it has taken me this long to say them back. I love ye, and I will never stop sayin’ it as long as we both live. Marry me?”

She laughed again, leaning forward to kiss him. “Aye,” she said against his mouth. “But we must wait until yer better.”

“Aye,” he said, pulling her close again. “And this time, I willnae wait to take ye, love. Jesus, I cannae believe I waited before,” he said incredulously.

“We now have the time, Lucas. As much time as ye like.”

“Good,” he said his eyes closing again. “After the weddin’, we willnae come out of the chamber for three days at least.”

Chuckling, she kissed him on the cheek and then crawled into bed with him. She could wait. As long as he got better and returned to her, she could wait forever.