Page 20 of Highlander’s Ancient Vengeance

“I see,” he replied. He looked disappointed but understanding. He stood up, pulling her with him, and then, because he simply could not help himself, he kissed her again. “Then if I want to marry you, I will have to brave the wrath of both our families,” he said grimly.

“You would do that for me?” she asked in wonder.

“I have no choice,” he replied, smiling. “What else can a man in love do?”

13

Many Letters

They rode home together on Craig’s horse, and Malle reveled in the feeling of having his strong arms around her. In fact, she wished the journey was longer. He wanted to see her inside, but she would not let him.

“They must not see me riding with you. I will tell them I fell off Arthur and a good Samaritan came to my rescue and helped me home. That is all they need to know, Craig,” she said firmly. She did not kiss him but called a guard to accompany him to the Cut, then turned away and strode into the castle, where she got as far as the foot of the stairs before collapsing.

Unbeknownst to them, someone else had been close to the church. A face that Malle had seen—or imagined seeing—when she was dazed and bewildered. He was not supposed to be on MacEwan land, but he had to know what was happening between Malle and Craig. Now he did, and it was not good. It did not suit his purposes at all. He growled to himself and mounted his horse again. Something needed to be done, and quickly.

When Malle awoke she no longer had a headache, but she seemed to be wearing bandages just about everywhere she looked. There was one on her elbow, both her knees, and she could feel one on her forehead and her cheekbone. She could see purple bruises between them, and she could feel a huge and painful lump on the back of her head.

Margaret was bending over her, and when she saw Malle’s eyes open, she let out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank God!” she cried. “I thought you were never going to wake up! How are you, darling?”

“Fine, Mammy,” Malle replied, managing a brave smile. “I am just a bit sore.”

“Weel, Mistress,” Jessie, the wise woman, said. “Ye were very lucky. If ye had hit yer heid much harder ye might no’ be talkin’ tae us noo.”

Malle gave a feeble laugh, then winced as her head decided to ache again.

“What happened?” Margaret had tears in her eyes as she took both Malle’s hands in hers and kissed them.

“A wild cat ran in front of Arthur and gave him a fright,” she answered. “He skittered sideways, then I think he fell over a stone and stumbled. It was not his fault, Mammy, and I am a bit battered and bruised, but fine.” I hope I am a good enough liar, she thought. She would have hated to see anything happen to Arthur.

“I have told you a hundred times that horse is too big for you!” Margaret protested. “Let us go to to the horse fair in Ardgour next week and find you a smaller one.”

“No Mammy,” Malle said firmly. “Arthur and I grew up together, and we are friends. What happened today was an accident.”

Margaret sighed. “Malle, I wish you would listen to reason sometimes.”

“I love you, Mammy.” Malle leaned over and kissed her mother. “You are the best Mammy in the world.”

“I know!” Margaret answered, laughing. “I have to be with a daughter like you! I have to go out for a while with your father. We are going to the horse fair in Aberdour. Maybe we will find you a nice gentle little mare there. Try to be good while I am gone!”

“Of course I will, Mammy,” Malle said mischievously. “Am I not always good?”

“No!” Margaret replied, “but I love you anyway.”

She kissed Malle and went out, leaving her alone to think. Something had just come back to her, but she could not quite pin down the thought. Then slowly, hazily, it swam back into her memory.

While she had been only half conscious on the ground, someone had bent over her and touched her face. She had an impression of a man’s dark face with a long beard, but it was so vague and blurred that she could not identify him. It might not even have happened. The thought of the experience made her shiver with fear and she resolutely put it out of her mind.

Craig was worried sick about her, but he could think of no way of sending a letter to Malle before he remembered Father John. A priest was never denied access anywhere, so he sat down the day after the accident and wrote:

My love,

I am going mad with worry about you. How are you? I wish I could come and see you, but as you know, that is impossible, and I wish I could tell everyone about our love, because I want the whole world to know. Our time will come soon though, I know it. Please write back and tell me you are well.

Your loving Craig

When Father John took the letter from Craig he smiled his serene smile at him and put a hand on his shoulder. “I never thought I would see the day when a MacEwan and a Dunbar would fall in love,” he said happily. “It is indeed wonderful news.”

“I asked you for secrecy, Father.” Craig’s voice was doubtful.