“Pass the word,” Ross ordered. “No one is to draw a sword unless they threaten us.” Ross searched the face of each Sinclair in turn and then glanced at the dead man draped over the horse’s back.
Robert Sinclair rode forth to meet Ross.
“Who are you?” Ross asked.
“Robert Sinclair.”
Ross spared Sinclair’s uniform a scathing look. “Where do you think you’re going? Have you been to Ravenscraig Tower?”
Robert’s horse danced beneath him, as nervous as Robert appeared. “You may as well know, laird, for you will learn of it soon enough. Our chieftain is dead, and we are returning to Sinclair land and our families. We doona like being mercenaries.”
Ross rode over to the dead body, lifted its head, saw it was Angus, and let it drop. “How did he die?”
“ ’Tis a mystery. Something happened at Ravenscraig that we doona understand.”
Ross’s lips thinned. “Explain yourself. How did you gain entry to Ravenscraig? The walls are impregnable.”
“We wear the king’s colors, though we will be glad to be free of them. Even you wouldna dare deny the king’s soldiers entry.”
“That doesna explain your reason for visiting Ravenscraig, nor how Sinclair died.”
“ ’Tis difficult to explain, much less ken, Laird Ross. We followed our chieftain to Ravenscraig on the king’s business, or so we were led to believe. Angus told us the king had awarded him stewardship of Ravenscraig Tower, and that our lives would improve if we followed him into battle. We were prepared to fight for Ravenscraig to better our lot, until we learned Angus had lied to us. He had no written order from the king.”
“What happened?”
“Your lady is verra brave, Laird Ross. She challenged Angus to show her the document with the king’s seal. Of course, he couldna. When Angus discovered you werena at Ravenscraig, he told your lady he intended to set a trap for you. He intended to kill you and your kinsmen as you rode into the bailey.”
Ross smiled. “My lady is a true warrior woman. However, naught you’ve said thus far explains Sinclair’s death.”
He scratched his head. “ ’Tis truly a mystery. Today we learned that Angus Sinclair betrayed his allies. We trusted him, until he bragged about killing the sons of our ally to further his own plans. When your lady heard Angus admit to killing her brothers, she plunged her eating knife into his chest. It didna appear to be a serious wound. Your healer treated him before we carried him off. Soon after we left Ravenscraig, however, he keeled over and died.”
“Gillian stabbed Sinclair with her eating knife?” Ross repeated. He dismounted to take a closer look at the body.
“Your lady showed more courage than most men,” Robert said admiringly. “Had she a sword in her hand, I swear she would have slain Angus where he stood. When Angus ordered us to kill her, none of us would obey him. Shamed by our chieftain’s treachery, we surrendered our swords. Angus broke the code of the Highlands; he didna deserve our loyalty.”
Ross felt Gillian’s pain keenly. It must have been devastating to her to learn that Angus had killed her brothers. The shock could have dire consequences to a woman carrying a bairn.
“Gordo MacKenna wanted to imprison Angus in the dungeon,” Robert continued, “but your lady told us to take him away. Gordo wasna happy with your lady’s decision.”
“I doona doubt it,” Ross muttered, thinking that Gordo would have objected most strenuously. He was surprised Gordo hadn’t killed Sinclair on the spot.
“Will you allow us to return to our homes and families?” Robert asked. “MacKay hasna harmed our wives and bairns, has he?”
“You should have thought of them before you went haring off with your chieftain. But rest easy; we doona wage war on women and bairns. Ramsey MacKay has taken stewardship of Sinclair Keep. He will need men to work his land and tend his cows. If you swear fealty to him, I am sure he will welcome you back. Your lot will be better with Ramsey MacKay than it would have been with Angus Sinclair. He cared naught for the welfare of his people.”
“Sinclairs and MacKays are allies,” Robert said. “We swore fealty to our overlord once, and we willna hesitate to do it again. Are we free to leave, Ross MacKenna?”
“Aye, but when next we meet, you had best be wearing plaid instead of the king’s colors. Tell Ramsey what you told me, and mayhap he will allow you to remain on his land.”
So saying, Ross turned his horse toward Ravenscraig and rode like the wind toward home and his wife. A wife he loved beyond reason, beyond his own life. Niall and the others trailed behind him, unable to keep up with his furious pace.
The sun had disappeared behind the mountains, spreading shadows over the land when Ross rode through the portcullis into the inner bailey. He dismounted at the front steps, threw his reins to a young lad who had run up to greet him, and mounted the stairs two at a time. He burst into the hall as the tables were being laid for the evening meal.
“Where is my wife?” he shouted to no one in particular.
Gordo heard him and ran up to greet him. “You should have seen her, laddie. She was magnificent,” Gordo said, beaming.
“I know all about it. I met the Sinclairs on the road. Angus is dead.”
Gordo nodded. “That doesna surprise me, although he was verra much alive when he left here. I would have gone after him and seen to his demise if Gillian hadna persuaded me that I would be wasting my time. She kenned the traitor wouldna live long.”
“Robert Sinclair told me that Angus died shortly after they left Ravenscraig. It was sudden and unexpected. Gillian was right, though I doona ken how or why. Where is she? Is she well?”
“Alice took her upstairs to rest. She appeared to be in shock. It wasna easy for her to hear Sinclair brag about killing her brothers. We havena seen her since she left the hall, but Alice assured us she is well, and that your bairn thrives.”
The words were scarcely out of Gordo’s mouth before Ross peeled away from him and raced up the stairs to the solar. He found Gillian sitting before the fire, wrapped in her MacKay plaid and staring into the flames. She seemed oblivious to her surroundings. Ross approached cautiously, so as not to frighten her. The breath caught in his throat when he saw silent tears streaming down her face.
“Gillian.” He spoke her name softly. She turned her head and stared at him. At first he thought she didn’t recognize him.
“He killed them, Ross,” Gillian whispered. “He wanted to kill all of them, Da and my brothers. Afterward, he intended to wed me and claim Braeburn.”
Ross lifted her into his arms, then sat in the chair she had just vacated and settled her on his lap, murmuring comforting words into her ear.
Her voice trembled as she said, “I wanted to kill Angus for what he did to my family. All this time I believed my brothers were slain by MacKennas. I hated you for it.”
“Forget the past, sweet lass. We have the future ahead of us. A future where peace will reign in the valley and our children will know a life without bloodshed or feuds.”
Gillian nestled in his arms, his warmth chasing away the coldness of reality. As long as she had Ross, all was right in her world. She couldn’t bring her brothers back, but she could make sure the clans never had reason to feud again.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
Gillian took a deep breath and nodded. “We didna recognize Angus and his kinsmen at first; they wore the king’s colors. The men you left behind to guard the keep believed the party was sent by the king and let them ride through the gate unchallenged. Gizela warned us to lower the portcullis but we acted too late.
“Angus was surprised to find you gone and the keep undefended. He was prepared to fight to claim Ravenscraig for himself. He immediately made plans to kill you and your party when you rode through the portcullis.” She shuddered. “I must have gone a wee bit daft then, for I stabbed him with my eating knife. I didna hurt him badly, but I wanted to.”
Ross’s heart nearly stopped. “What if his men had turned on you? They could have slain you and our bairn.”
“I’m sorry. I was too enraged to think past the horror of Angus’s confession. As it turned out, Angus’s kinsmen were as horrified as I by his treachery.”
He feathered kisses on her lips. “I know. I met them on the road to Wickhaven.”
She looked up at him. “Wickhaven?”
“ ’Tis what your father renamed Sinclair Keep. He claimed ownership and left Ramsey in charge.” He hesitated a moment, then said, “Angus Sinclair is dead.”
Gillian didn’t seem surprised. “Did you nae hear what I said?” he asked. “Sinclair is dead.”
“Aye, I heard.” She shrugged. “I doona wish to talk about Angus Sinclair.”
Ross frowned but respected her wishes, rocking her gently in his lap.
“Do you want to hear about Seana McHamish’s fate?” Ross asked.
Gillian nodded.
“We found her at Wickhaven. She fled there after she left Ravenscraig. She remained there because she had no place else to go after Sinclair refused to take her to Edinburgh with him. The keep and its people were in sad shape. Your father promised to supply provisions and whatever else is needed until Ramsey can bring order to the keep and land.”
“You didna kill Seana, did you?”
“Nay, but in time she may wish she were dead. Your father escorted her to St. Sithian’s Abbey. ’Tis a strict order; she will spend the rest of her days in prayer, behind walls from which there is no escape.”
Ross kissed her then, cradling her in his arms like a child he needed to protect. Gillian melted into the kiss, into his warrior’s body, drinking deeply of his vitality, his zest, growing stronger by the minute.
“I feel better already,” Gillian said with a sigh when he broke off the kiss. “Seana is gone and Angus is dead, though Da willna be pleased to hear it. He would have wanted to exact his own brand of vengeance on Angus.”
“Aye, I ken it. The way you stood up to Sinclair was verra brave, lass, though foolish for a woman in your condition. You saved us, you know. If you hadna gotten Sinclair to admit he killed your brothers, his kinsmen wouldna have turned against him.”
“Bravery had naught to do with it,” Gillian admitted. “ ’Twas rage that drove me. Rage and the knowledge that Angus meant to kill you. I love you, Ross MacKenna. I canna imagine my life without you in it.”
Ross’s arms tightened around her. “That is something you need never worry about. You are mine, Gillian MacKay. And what is mine I keep. I love you, sweet lass.”
A whisper of sound warned Ross that they were not alone. Immediately alert, he whipped his head around, surprised to see Gizela standing near the door.
“Gizela, what do you here?”
“Angus Sinclair is dead?”
“Aye, he is.”
Gizela nodded complacently, satisfaction clearly visible in her fathomless eyes.“’Tis as it should be.”
Ross stared at her. Suddenly the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.
“What did you do to him, Gizela?” Ross asked.
“The man deserved to die,” the healer said. “He couldna be allowed to live.”
“MacKay was robbed of the right to punish Sinclair in his own way.”
Gizela shrugged. “’Twas better this way, neatly and quickly done, without fuss or bother. No great loss there. Think no more on it, laird. Attend your lady; she is your future.”
She shuffled off, disappearing as mysteriously as she had come. “Gizela, wait! How did you do it?” Ross called. No answer was forthcoming.
“Let her go, Ross,” Gillian said. “I knew Gizela didna intend for Angus to live. That’s why I let his kinsmen take him away over Gordo’s objection. I didna want him to die in my keep. We are well rid of him. Does it really matter how he died?”
“Aye, naught matters but you, sweet lass, and the future that is ours to live.”
Ross rose to his feet, taking Gillian up with him. He carried her to their bed and showed her without words the true meaning of love.
Epilogue
On the day Gillian went into labor, the moors and hill-sides were ablaze with purple heather; the scent of it filled the warm air and floated on gentle breezes. Members of Clan MacKay and Clan MacKenna were gathered in the hall to await the birth.
Abovestairs in her bedchamber, Gillian paced the floor, her contractions monitored closely by Gizela. Alice and Hanna were also present, preparing the chamber for the eagerly anticipated birth.
Gillian let out a groan as a particularly violent contraction brought a fine sheen of sweat to her forehead. This bairn couldn’t be born soon enough to suit her. For the last month she hadn’t walked; she’d waddled. She felt ungainly and unattractive despite Ross’s assurance that she was just as beautiful to him now as she had ever been.
“Do you feel like you could push, lass?” Gizela asked.
“I feel that if I doona push this bairn out soon, I will explode.” Gillian gasped as another contraction gripped her. “How much longer do I have to walk? I’ve been pacing for hours. I doona know how much more of this I can take.”