Page 40 of The Runaway Bride and the Highlander
Maxwell regretted his foolish outburst. Of course, Bram wouldn’t go behind his back. He was his brother, and they had always protected and supported each other. Maxwell also understood what Bram was trying to say. He just didn’t agree with it. Maybe it was because Bram hadn’t lost what he had. Yes, there had been pain experienced by everyone in the clan but not as much as losing someone you love.
“I ken ye’re trying tae help, Bram. But I’m doing what’s best for everyone.”
“Ye’re doing what’s best for yerself, Max. Ye may try and kid everyone else. Ye may even try tae convince yerself ‘tis for everyone else’s benefit. But ye ken well ye’re the only person gaining from it.”
Bram didn’t understand how he felt at all. Far from gaining from it, he was actually causing himself more suffering. He ached for Skylar every minute of the day. It was nearly killing him to stay away from her. But the pain of losing her would be worse.
“Ye dinnae understand, Bram.”
“Och, I understand more than ye ken, Max. I understand yer a stubborn fool who is willing tae lose the very thing that might heal ye in the end. I ken ye’ve suffered, and ye’re right. I cannae imagine what ‘tis been like for ye. But I do ken this. That woman ye married,” Bram pointed toward the castle, “may well just be yer saving grace.”
CHAPTERNINETEEN
Skylar was abruptly woken from her sleep by a man she did not know. At first, she was frightened as he loomed over her while she lay in bed. But a second later, she noticed Caelan standing beside him.
“We must leave now, my lady,” Caelan said hurriedly.
“What is going on?” Skylar asked, a worry rising within her when she realized Maxwell was no longer lying by her side.
“The castle is under attack. ‘Tis best if we move ye tae yer own chamber. Ye’ll be safer there, my lady. Evan,” Caelan nodded to the large man standing beside him, “will keep guard. Nae harm will come tae ye with him outside yer chamber door.”
For a moment, Skylar was dumbfounded at the advisor’s words, and it took her a second to take it all in.
“We must hurry, my lady. Time is o’ the essence,” Calean pressed, shaking her from her stupor.
With the men waiting patiently outside, Skylar quickly dressed and left Maxwell’s room. The men accompanied her down the corridor to her own chambers, and with a nod of assurance, Caelan closed the door securely, with her safely inside. From inside her chambers, she heard Caelan’s words to the guard.
“Dinnae move from this spot, Evan. Nae matter what ye see or hear, ye must protect Lady Macleod at all costs.”
The urgency in Caelan’s voice only frightened her more, and hardly able to believe what was happening, she felt suddenly helpless and bewildered, as though there ought to be something she could do. Of course, there was nothing she could do, and yet, with an excited energy than ran through her, Skylar found herself pacing back and forth for what felt like hours. At first, she wondered if Caelan had not been mistaken, for she could not hear any battle or any noise from anywhere in the castle at all. It did not take very long, however, for that circumstance to change.
The sound of clashing swords and a huge amount of yelling traveled up to her chambers, and Skylar could do nothing but feel utterly terrified at what the outcome of the battle might be. It had to be Johnson and his men. It was the only thing that made any sense. It had been the fear of an attack that had motivated Maxwell and the council to conclude Skylar and the laird must marry in the first place. She had just not expected it to happen so soon.
A great turmoil twisted in her gut, for though she knew Maxwell would do everything in his power to keep her safe, Skylar was also aware of how very determined Laird Johnson had been in his discovery of her whereabouts. Since her arrival in the castle, she had overheard snippets of conversation, some of which had informed her of how large and strong his army was. What if they managed to overrun the castle? What if Maxwell’s men were just not strong enough to win the fight?
After some time and much angst on Skylar’s part, the sound of the battle died down. At first, she wondered about the outcome. The silence was unnerving, and not knowing what was going to happen next, her mind ran wild with imaginings of Laird Johnson bursting through her bedchamber door at any moment.
More time passed, however, and nothing happened. Not able to bear the waiting any longer, Skylar went to her door and slowly opened it. Evan still stood guard, and upon hearing the creaking door, he turned toward her.
“It is better if ye remain inside, my lady.”
“I only desire to ken what has happened, Evan,” Skylar asked, the worry still heavy within her. “Has the castle been overrun? Did Maxwell win the battle? What news is there?”
“Johnson’s army retreated, my lady. We won the battle. Ye are safe. But it will still be better if ye remain inside.”
“Oh, thank god,” Skylar breathed. “All right,” she said again, nodding her acquiescence.
Closing the door, she leaned heavily upon it, breathing a huge sigh of relief. Maxwell had won. The Macleod clan had defeated Johnson’s army.
‘Tis yer clan now.
The strange thought came from nowhere and pulled her up short. She had hardly had a chance to think about it, given they had only been married a day, but she supposed that it was true. She was now part of the Macleod clan. It was no longer something separate from her. She was Lady Skylar Macleod.
“Lady Macleod,” she said to herself, the words sounding strange on her lips.
Of all the ways she had imagined her life might turn out, this scenario had certainly not been one of them. Strangely, however, she did wish her mother and father were alive to see her now. She would hope they would be proud of her, especially given she had married into the right side of the rebellion. Laird Johnson was an enemy of most of the Highland clans, and only through Maxwell’s rescue did Skylar find herself safe from the dreadful man.
While she now knew the battle had been won, and Johnson’s men had retreated, Skylar had no other choice but to wait for Maxwell to come to her. She was certain he would come soon, for he would know she would be in need of his comfort. More than that, however, she wanted to know that he was all right and not injured. The web of scarring on his body had not gone unnoticed by her, wounds from many battles over the years, no doubt. The Macleod clan may well have won the battle, but it would not have been without consequences.
