Page 43 of The Runaway Bride and the Highlander
“Seven dead o’ our own and four men from Clan MacTavish,” Caelan continued. “The injured number into the twenties but for the most part naething so severe tae be life threatening.”
The MacTavish clan had departed for their own lands just over a day ago. Before they left, however, Maxwell had spoken privately to Laird MacTavish, for he wanted to know if the older man would stand with them if Johnston returned.
“I cannae say I’m eager tae agree tae such an alliance, Maxwell,” Laird MacTavish had said. “However, I understand yer concern. I will tell ye this. If, when the time comes, ye cannae fight the man and his army alone, send a messenger, and I will send men tae ye.”
“Yer men will take several days tae reach us, my laird,” Maxwell had replied.
What use would any help be after such a length of time?
“And what would ye have me do instead, Maxwell, leave my men here waiting for a fight that may never come?” Laird MacTavish pressed. “When word gets back tae Laird Johnson that we were here and assisted ye against his men, I may have a battle o’ my own tae contend with. I simply cannae spare men and leave myself vulnerable.”
Laird MacTavish had a point, and in the end, Maxwell had been given no choice but to concede. “I understand yer position, my laird. Then I will bid ye a safe journey home and offer my gratitude for helping us.”
Laird MacTavish had rested his hand firmly on Maxwell’s shoulder. “Ye have good men here, Maxwell. They’re loyal and fight hard. In the end, we can all only hope that we are fortunate tae have an honorable death. Laird Johnson will never have that privilege. He is a fiend o’ the worst kind and relies on the English. He’s nae Scotsman in my eyes. I wish ye the greatest o’ luck. Be well, my friend.”
“Do we think he will return?” Samuel asked after the report had been given.
“While I’d like tae give ye good news, Samuel,” Maxwell replied, “I cannae do so with any confidence. I made it kent that I had married the lass and that Skylar was now my property. Whether Johnson respects that is anybody’s guess. My own opinion is he willnae. Ye all ken what he’s done tae this clan. I believe he’ll only want tae punish me again for the action we’ve taken.”
After some time and much deliberating, the meeting drew to a close. Caelan and the council members left, leaving Maxwell in his study with his brother.
“Ye think he’ll come for her,” Bram said. It was a statement, not a question.
“Ye ken well he will,” Maxwell said, throwing him a knowing glance.
“Aye, I ken. I think ye may as well just hand her over,” his brother said plainly.
Maxwell’s jaw dropped, and he stared at him in disbelief. “I beg yer pardon?”
“Well,” Bram shrugged, “maybe it’d be easier for everyone if she wasnae here anymore. Let’s be honest, ye have nae spoken tae her since yer wedding night. At least she’d have better conversation with Johnson.”
Bram was being sarcastic, a skill he used often when he was trying to make a point and evoke a reaction, particularly from Maxwell. But Maxwell was not going to give him the satisfaction this time. After the initial shock of Bram’s words wore off, Maxwell just rolled his eyes at his brother. “Ye dinnae ken what ye’re talking about.”
“Maybe nae, but that’s because ye dinnae tell me anything. If I’m honest, I dinnae really want to ken, but ye should at least talk tae Skylar. Ye have nae treated her fairly, Max. The woman cares for ye a great deal. She doesnae ken what’s going on with ye.”
“Is that right?” Maxwell stood now, feeling angry at his brother’s attack. “And how do ye ken all o’ this?”
“Because she talks tae me,” Bram shrugged.
“Och, does she now?”
“Aye, and who can blame her?” Bram countered, raising his voice a little. “‘Tis nae like her husband is available for conversation.”
“It may have escaped yer notice, but I have a lot on my mind,” Maxwell said, gesturing to the report that sat on his desk.
“Aye, ye just continue tae make yer excuses, brother,” Bram said, now heading toward the door. “But here’s a revelation for ye. There’ll always be something for ye tae be taking care o’. Ye’re the laird, for god’s sake. Does that mean ye’re going tae ignore yer wife for the rest o’ yer life?”
Bram didn’t wait for an answer and walked through the door, slamming it behind him. Maxwell heaved a sigh of frustration and, standing there with his hands on his hips, dropped his head. Of course, Bram was right. As usual, though, Maxwell was just too stubborn to admit it openly.
What his brother didn’t know was the torture Maxwell had experienced over these last few days. He had ignored Skylar to protect himself, but at the same time, he yearned for her with such an ache, it was physically painful. Whatever he did, he couldn’t win. He would either suffer now or suffer at a future time.
Leaving the report on his desk, Maxwell left his study and made his way through the castle. He had checked up on the small boy several times in the last few days. It was a relief to see him gaining strength and getting better, no thanks to Maxwell. The boy only had Skylar to thank for his life. It would soon be time to take him home, and perhaps now was as good a time as any to discover where that might be.
Upon entering the healer’s room, Maxwell found himself pleasantly surprised to see Skylar there. She sat on the edge of the bed and was reading to the boy. The two were so involved in the story, they had not appeared to notice his entrance, and for a moment, Maxwell kept it that way. It gave him a chance to look upon her without having to converse.
Her voice was soft and gentle as she read, and as Maxwell watched, he found himself enchanted by her very being. He could not have known at the time of her rescue, but he had deduced over their time together that she was a rare woman, a lass with a pure soul and kind heart. She might not be a witch, but she still had powers she hardly knew she possessed, powers to disarm him and cast a spell upon him he could not break free from. While he had loved every minute of being with her, he hated the feelings she evoked. He felt too vulnerable, almost powerless to resist her, even knowing the pain it might cause him.
With his mind consumed with his thoughts, Maxwell had hardly noticed that she had stopped reading. Instead, his wife was now looking at him intently, and by her expression, he knew something explosive was coming his way.
