Captured Heart (16 page)

“Has her family consented to her marriage?”

“I do.” A woman’s voice cut across the room as the front doors banged open. She dusted snow off her furry coat, plucked off her hat, and walked across the room. “I, Rachel Munro, aunt to the bride, give my permission for her to wed Caden Macbain.”

Rachel Brindle, now Munro. She had Isabelle’s coloring, though gray had crept into her fiery hair. Even though she must be over two score now, her skin still shone with vigor. This Brindle sister had thrived in the Highlands. Isabelle would have also, if she’d only given him a chance.

Rachel bowed her head to the priest in respect. “Father.” The priest resided with each clan in the area for several months before moving on. Father Daughtry’s frown made Colin wonder what type of confessions the feisty wife of Alec Munro must have voiced. She continued. “I am the bride’s aunt by blood. I am all the family that she has here and I gladly give her to Caden Macbain in marriage.”

“I suppose you will do.” Daughtry retained his frown. “I would wash the dust from my hands and face before we proceed.”

Caden gave instructions to several servants to prepare rooms for Colin and Father Daughtry. The wiry council of three headed out, mumbling something about washing up.

Rachel tilted her head at Colin and studied him. Not much passed the notice of that clever woman. “Colin Macleod. Still a hairy mountain of a man.”

He scratched at his heavy beard. He’d planned to cut it off, starting with a fresh growth over the winter, but rushed out before the deed was done. The lilt of her voice caught at his chest. She was so much like Isabelle, but with more bite.

“Still bonny even in yer advancing years,” Colin said with a grin.

Rachel chuckled but then grew more serious. “I’d heard you became reclusive after Isabelle’s death.”

“Ye mean Isabelle’s murder.”

“Agreed.”

Colin rubbed his face. “As reclusive as a chief of a huge clan can be.”

“Never married?”

Och! The woman liked to pry. “Ye still married to that boar Alec?”

Rachel laughed. “Yes, quite married.”

“I’m sorry to hear about yer two boys, Rachel.”

Her happiness faded and he regretted his words. “Thank you, Colin. I still have Searc.”

Colin glanced toward the stairs. “Does she look like Isabelle?” He should know before he saw her. Perhaps it would be better not to witness the ceremony.

“No, although she has my sister’s eyes. Not the color, though. They’re hazel like yours.”

“Then she takes after Boswell,” he grumbled.

Rachel’s face pinched. “No, not at all.” She tilted her head at him like a hawk centering on a mouse.

“God help him!” a woman screeched from above.

“Make way!” Bruce yelled and hefted a body through the doors.

…

Good Lord! I’ve killed him!

“Angus! Oh what have I done?” Meg yelled as she flew down the stairs behind Evelyn.

“Oh my Angus!” Evelyn crooned.

Kenneth ran inside, swearing.

Caden left a large man covered with a beard and took Angus from Bruce’s unsteady hands. He laid him carefully on the rushes.

“What’s happened, Hugh?” Caden followed Meg to kneel beside the fallen man.

“I shot and…it’s all my fault,” Meg said.
What have I done? The wind, it came from nowhere! Oh God, I’m so foolish! How can I help him?
“Aunt Rachel! You’re here.”

“Ye shot Angus?” Caden asked, motioning to the bow she’d flung on the floor.

“I shot a goose, for the feast,” she said. “Aunt Rachel, you must pray over Angus.”

“Ye shot a goose?” Caden asked as two other guards walked into the keep carrying a huge dead goose, an arrow protruding from the bird’s neck. The animal hadn’t suffered after the hit.

“Nice shot,” the bearded man said.

Rachel shook her head. “Angus Riley made me swear never to touch him again. I can’t help, Meg. I swore.”

“That was years ago, decades!” Meg yelled. She placed her hands on Angus’s chest, which rose with shallow breaths, and her other hand under Angus’s balding head. When she pulled it back it was smeared with bright red blood. “There is bleeding in his brain. He must have fallen back and hit his head. Evelyn,” she called. “Find a rag.”

Evelyn ran out of the hall, tears flooding her eyes.

“What hit Angus?” Caden asked.

“The goose,” Meg and Hugh said at the same time.

“Ye shot from the walkway above?”

“I always hit my mark,” Meg said. She sucked in a slow, bitter breath that tasted of regret. She should have waited until the bird was well past the wall. “I just thought it would be an addition to the feast. I…there was a wind…I didn’t…”

“’Twas a strong gust the lass hadn’t counted on,” Hugh added. “Pushed the shot bird back into the bailey on the way down. Angus was near the wall.”

“Meg,” Caden said. “We only shoot from the walkway when the enemy is attempting to scale the walls.”

She breathed deeply, her eyes glistening as they pleaded with Rachel. “He’ll die.”

The whole room watched Rachel expectantly. “You harmed him. You heal him.”

“I…I’m not sure,” Meg whispered.

Evelyn ran back in, her face and eyes red. A priest followed, a piece of cold chicken in his hand.

“What’s happened?” the priest asked, shoved the meat in his mouth and grabbed his cross. “Are ye in need of last rites?”

“Nay!” Evelyn yelled and lowered haltingly to her knees.

Meg pushed the rags under Angus’s head.

Evelyn crumpled over the fallen elder and brushed the hair from his face. “Oh Gus, you have to wake up,” she crooned. She turned to Meg and switched to English. “I’ve heard what ye did for Elizabeth Loman.” The old woman touched Meg’s hand on top of Angus’s chest. “Please try.”

Meg exhaled long and glanced at Rachel. “I will…try.”

“Try what?” the priest asked.

No one answered. Meg glanced around the room. “Caden?” she asked, her eyes resting on the bearded stranger.

“Colin Macleod,” Caden answered. “He brought Father Daughtry for the wedding.”

Caden gave a slight glance toward Ewan.

“Come, Father.” Ewan took the man’s arm and tugged him away from the scene. “I will show you where you can unpack your robes in case Angus needs those last rites.”

Meg studied the stranger. Something was familiar about him but it was hard to tell with so much facial hair. Would he run screaming if he saw her heal Angus?

“I was…a friend of yer mama’s,” he said in English, his voice gruff.

Caden’s hand squeezed her shoulder. Was he waiting for her to throw the man out?

“Isabelle was quite a good shot, too,” the man said.

So Colin knew her mother well enough to know she could shoot, something Meg didn’t even know. She’d question him later. Right now she had to use all her concentration on fixing this terrible wrong that was all her fault.

Meg turned back to Angus. She had to do this, must do it, and with a blasted audience.
Good God, help me help him…please!

Meg shifted and Caden moved with her, never colliding but working in concert as they arranged Angus out flat and cradled his head on a pillow of rags. He never said anything but his presence calmed her, strengthened her.

“Evelyn, keep his head steady,” Meg instructed, her voice stronger. She laid her palms back on Angus’s chest. “Some of the bleeding has stopped,” she said to Rachel, who had moved closer.

“Stop the rest, imagine it as normal tissue,” Rachel instructed.

Meg closed her eyes and explored the tissue in the brain with her powers.

Evelyn began to pray out loud as if what she saw terrified her, but she didn’t move away.

“That’s good to pray, Evelyn. God’s work here needs everyone’s prayers,” Rachel offered.

Meg kept her eyes closed and imagined her magic warming through to her hurt friend. The convoluted folds of white tissue stitched together, the bleeding absorbing into the surrounding tissue. “The bleeding is stopped.” She sighed, relief evident along her tight mouth.

She laid her hands back on the old man’s chest as he stirred.

Evelyn gasped and leaned down to kiss Angus’s forehead.

“What hit me?” Angus asked. “A damn English boulder?”

“A goose,” Bruce said, leaning over his friend.

“A bloody what?” Angus tried to sit up and grabbed his chest, groaning.

“What is it, Gus?” Evelyn asked.

The pain-filled groan cut through Meg. Now what? She placed her hands on Angus’s shoulder.
Good God!
“Bits of the clot that began to form are broken loose. They’re sliding through his veins.”

“Dissolve them,” Rachel said, so close she nearly fell on top of the man. “Imagine them gone, faded into normal blood. Quickly.”

The blue light leapt out of Meg’s hands before she could even drop them back on Angus’s chest.

Caden was at her side, lowering the groaning man to the floor. He slid his hand down her back. Now he would know just how unnatural she was. “Ye can do it, Meg.”

This amazing man had a power all his own, the power to calm her.

Meg closed her eyes and followed the rushing clots as they tipped and turned through the tiny vessels trying to find purchase. Just like chasing a dodging hare with her bow, Meg sought out and dissolved the dark chunks of clotted blood throughout Angus’s body. After long moments, Meg leaned back onto her heels, exhaustion dulling her. Caden pulled her into his chest to hold her up.

“What happened?” Angus blinked as Evelyn hugged him. “Woman, you’re weeping all over me,” he chided, but he squeezed her back.

“A goose hit ye,” Bruce said.

“I heard that, ye twit.” Angus murmured comforting words to the housekeeper. Meg had no idea that Angus and Evelyn were a couple.

“What was that pain in me, after ye healed me?” he asked, his eyes on Meg.

“Clots going through your body.” Her eyes began to close. “I’m so tired.”

Caden scooped Meg up in his arms. “The wedding will have to wait until later. Meg needs to rest.”

“I am so sorry, Angus,” Meg said as her head lulled onto Caden’s shoulder like it belonged there, nestled into his neck.

“All is right.” Angus fussed while his two old friends pulled him up by the arms. “Bloody hell, I’m covered in goose blood.”

“’Tis your blood,” Kenneth said.

Meg breathed in the warmth radiating off Caden’s neck. She barely heard Rachel behind her. “I think she did quite well. Seems you will be blessed with a powerful healer right here at Druim. Make certain you thank God for her.”

“I think we all better wash before the wedding,” Angus called out.

Caden carried Meg into the darkness of the hall.

“Heavens, what have I missed? Has someone else been injured?”

“No, Father. My bride is tired, though, with the shock of Angus’s injury.”

“Oh, shall we delay the ceremony?”

“Not for long,” Caden answered and moved on. His lips moved closer to her ear. “I would have ye safely as my wife as soon as ye can stand, lass.”

Meg shivered, but not from cold. The intensity in Caden’s voice caught her off guard. The blatant show of her bizarre abilities didn’t seem to faze him. Amazing. He carried her up against his solid chest. What would it be like for that strong body to move against her own? Even exhausted, Meg’s pulse flew. She surely wouldn’t need to rest for long.

…

Meg stood before the polished glass, her reflection clear and elegant in the blue brocade gown. Stitches of gold thread wove subtle swirls throughout the skirt. The bell-shaped sleeves were shot through with a lighter-colored blue silk. Against her waist, Meg wore her mother’s dragonfly sash that accentuated her curves. Fiona brushed Meg’s long curls until they fell in a soft cascade down to the middle of her back.

Aunt Rachel placed a dainty wreath of dried summer flowers and small shoots of wheat on her head. “Lovely,” Rachel said. “A perfect autumn bride.”

“Is that why you came?” Meg asked. “Did Caden send for you?”

Rachel continued to arrange the wreath just so. “I received word that you two were being wed and I came right away.”

“Uncle Alec couldn’t come?”

“Oh…he will be along soon, I’m sure.”

Meg watched her own reflection in the polished glass. She seemed the perfect bride, but inside her stomach twisted with questions and worries. Did Caden really want to marry her or was he only doing it to save her and to end the feud? Many couples married without love. Without love, would they be happy? There certainly was a spark between them. She was a virgin, but she knew enough about anatomy and birthing to know what happened in the marriage bed. Meg blushed as she recalled Caden’s kiss as he left her exhausted on her bed that morning.

“Lovely,” Fiona said, “a blushing bride.”

Rachel took a sip from a goblet of wine, waited, and handed it to Meg. Apparently, everyone was still on alert after the mushroom incident. “Drink. It will relax you.”

Meg sipped at the chilled drink, letting its languor spread down into her knotted stomach. Evelyn poked her head around the door. “They’re ready below.”

“Thank you, Evelyn. Is Angus fit?”

The woman actually blushed. “Thank ye, milady, for helping him.” Meg waited for the habitual sign of the cross, but Evelyn’s eyes were sincere and lacked fear. Could people here actually accept what she could do, when even Meg herself barely did?

“Time to wed,” Rachel said.

Meg’s stomach flipped. With one last glance at the regal woman in the polished glass, she turned toward a new life waiting for her below.

She rounded the corner to a hall full of people, Macbain people with others standing near the very tall Colin Macleod. She almost didn’t recognize him without his bushy beard. Something about the man made her eyes linger. He was handsome and she could understand why her mother would want to be friends with him.

Meg caught sight of Caden near the hearth. He was tallest of them all and easy to pick out. The man stood out among his peers, obviously a leader, strong and ruggedly handsome. He’d shaved his short beard, revealing his strong chin and jaw. Slightly damp waves of brown hair hung to his broad shoulders. He wore a fresh kilt, perhaps new.