Page 63 of Highlander’s Protector

Aulay came to her and, disregarding etiquette, engulfed her in a warm bear hug. She hugged him back, and it was on his chest that the tears that she’d fought broke through. He looked down at her. “Lass, what is the matter? Ye’re here now. Ye’re safe. I’m sorry we couldna come and recover ye. I canna forgive myself for allowing Dugald to take ye in the first place. We thought ye were dead. We brought Laoghaire here to offer her in yer place, but yer groom refused her.”

She stood back. “Do ye think he will still accept me?”

Bruce came to stand next to her and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. She almost died of the touch.

“He will,” the king said. “He wants only ye.”

Her eyes locked with David’s, and her chest tightened at the incredible pain and sadness in his eyes. Because, just as Philip wanted only her, she wanted David and no one else.

CHAPTER 25

“What are ye doing?” said a female voice behind Anna’s back, and she turned sharply, releasing the four bent fingers of her hand.

In the semidarkness, the flames of three tallow candles jumped and flickered and so did Laoghaire’s shadow on the canvas wall of the camp pavilion. Laoghaire was breathtaking, a proper noble lady. Her dress was of a rich, ultramarine blue, with roses embroidered with golden threads. The long, angel sleeves were embroidered with golden patterns of leaves and florets. On her head, she wore a jeweled circlet over a crocheted wool net that held her hair. Her cheeks were pink, and her lips were full, and her big, long-lashed eyes were sharp and attentive on Anna.

“Nothing,” Anna said. “I’m just tired.”

The hot bath she had taken still stood in the middle of the pavilion. Robert the Bruce was supposed to stay in this large tent, but he’d given it to the women and their lady’s maids instead. Anna appreciated the gesture, but she’d take sleeping on the ground in David’s arms anytime.

Laoghaire slowly walked to Anna and looked her over. “Ye were whispering and bending yer fingers. Were ye counting something?”

Anna stood up from the chair she was sitting on and took a blanket from the single bed. The floor was laid with rugs and soft under her bare feet. She felt clean, her skin and her hair were breathing and singing. As she’d bathed, she’d craved David’s presence in the tub with her. Had he been given a chance to wash up? Unlikely.

How soon would he leave? They hadn’t had a chance to talk. Surely, he’d stay the night… But would he stay until the wedding ceremony tomorrow?

Before bathing, she’d checked her undertunic and herself for blood from her courses, but there was none. She’d last had them before she was kidnapped, and they were due sometime around now.

When Laoghaire came in, she’d been counting days.

She didn’t know if she should be worried. She’d never been very regular and never bothered to remember or write down when her courses were due. Over the past moon, she’d gone through an ordeal—been hungry and thirsty for days, been kidnapped and held prisoner. Her courses may be postponed because of the shock.

On the other hand, she had been lying with a man for the past ten days…

If she was pregnant… The thought brought a rush of icy cold through her. But also a flutter of joy.

David’s child… Part of him within her, hers forever. A life growing inside her…

“I was just counting how many days I was away,” she said and turned away, blood rushing to her cheeks.

Laoghaire sat down on the chair Anna had vacated, facing her. She reached out to the table and poured two cups of wine and offered one to Anna. Wine was imported from France and very expensive, but not to her uncle Aulay. “It’s been three days since I arrived from Islay to take yer place as Sir Philip’s bride. And three days since he rejected me.”

Anna took the cup of wine. Laoghaire glared at her, then drank the wine without blinking.

“I am sorry to hear he rejected ye,” Anna said.

“Well, it seems a bastart is more acceptable than a perfectly legitimate and well-bred woman. With a big dowry. With manners. With the blood of warriors in her veins.”

The words stung, but Anna had been hurt so much worse. She sat down and drank two sips of red wine, and the flavors of black currants and herbs she’d never known played richly on her tongue. The alcohol mingled with her blood, bringing warmth and making her head spin.

“Believe me,” Anna said. “Ye dinna want to trade places with me. Ye can have Sir Philip.”

She loved David. She was a fallen woman possibly pregnant with his child. And she wondered if sleeping without him would bring the nightmares of the oubliette back.

An expression of concern clouded Laoghaire’s beautiful face. “What happened to ye, cousin?”

Anna chuckled uncomfortably and drank more. “Ye ken what happened to me.”

“Nae everything. Ye were perfectly excited when ye departed from Islay. And now ye seem like ye’re going to an execution, nae to a wedding. I would think a bride that had been kidnapped and kept prisoner would be more relieved to be in safety. To meet her future husband. So what happened?”