The Highlander's Outlaw Bride (22 page)

“What of the bairn?”

“I dinnae want tongues to wag. I suppose I could travel to my aunt who lives in Edinburgh. She is widowed and will likely take me in for a time. I could then bring the bairn back as the child of a deceased, distant cousin.”

“But ye would leave Wyndham for months. That isnae what ye wanted.”

“If I stay, I will need to marry quickly to keep the gossip from reaching his ears.”

“How will ye do that?”

“By doing what I should have considered years ago.”

“What is that, lass?”

She tilted her face to his, her gaze solemn. “Ask ye to marry me.”

Chapter 25

Late October, 1387, Wyndham

Brianna sank onto the bench outside the stables as her knees gave way. Dizzy and nauseated, she covered her face with her hands to keep her world from spinning out of control. The sensation passed, and she rose slowly to her feet and made her way up the path to the hall. Gavin caught up with her as she entered the door, and his good-morning smile became a frown.

“Are ye feeling unwell?”

Brianna gave him a wan smile. “Nothing to worry about. Just the bairn making his presence known.”

“A bout of sickness, then?”

For reply, she cut off his words with an abrupt wave of her hand as she whirled and fled the room. Shivery sweat glistened on her forehead and trickled down her spine. Bracing her hand against the rough wooden wall of the privy, she waited for the nausea to pass.

Why can I not be like other women and have this pass? I am nearly three months gone, and still cannae keep my breakfast down
. The sensation passed, and she rose, scrubbing both palms against her skirts. She walked into the sunlight, pausing before she entered the hall. Too many curious eyes awaited her, and she turned back to the stable. Tam wandered to her side and thrust his cold nose against her hand with a whine.

“Dinnae
fash
yerself, lad. Gavin and I have it all worked out.” He padded beside her into the building and flopped down on a pile of straw in the corner of the tack room. “We will wed next week and an early bairn willnae be taken amiss. Who would have thought I would have a bairn in the first place?”

Pulling Maude’s blanket from a shelf, Brianna gathered needle and thread and a scrap of cloth to patch a worn spot in the fabric. She was sure to make a poor job of the busy work any stable lad could do, but it would take her mind off her stomach, and relieve her of the speculations in the hall.

She eyed the blanket critically. Nowhere near perfect, the job was, however, done and she doubted the stable lads would ever breathe a word of complaint. She bit the heavy thread in half and rose to return the blanket to its shelf. Reaching high, she stood on her toes to give the blanket a final push into place. Tam gave a warning growl as the door opened behind her.

Expecting Gavin or one of the stable lads, possibly even Jamie, she was unprepared for her visitor. The sight of Laird MacLaurey, his form filling the doorway, stole the breath from her lungs. She stood there a long moment, open-mouthed in surprise, until she collected her wits.

“What are ye doing here?” she demanded over her racing heart.

“Is it true? Ye are marrying Gavin?”

Brianna stared at Conn, noting a haggardness about his eyes and mouth. The last time she’d seen him, he had been tired, even exhausted, but he hadn’t looked like this. She caught herself before she could feel sorry for him, and measured her words, aware her slightest slip would tell him about the bairn.

“Aye. I am.”

“Why?”

Why, indeed? Her best answers were the ones she couldn’t give him, so she fell back onto the glib statement she and Gavin passed to anyone who asked. “Because we suit each other. We both have Wyndham’s good at heart, and it is time we both were married.” She shot him a cold look. “And we respect each other.”

“Ye said ye dinnae need a husband.”

“I have changed,” she lied smoothly.

Conn snorted. “Like hell.”

“I want to settle down, watch Jamie grow up, and know I will grow old with someone.” She cut her eyes away from his steely gaze. She could have had all of that with him, only she had been too proud and too angry to give it a chance.

He eyed her critically, his gaze covering her from head to toe, and she felt heat creep up her neck. He scowled.

“Have ye been ill? Ye look terrible.”

“That sort of talk isnae likely to turn a lass’s head,” she replied tartly, not answering his question.

“Ye appear to have lost weight. A good bit of weight.” He strode toward her and she stiffened as he circled her, inspecting her from every angle.

Within seconds Brianna was seething, her foot tapping an impatient tattoo on the dirt floor. At last Conn came to a stop in front of her, standing much too close. She took a step backward, hoping he wouldn’t follow. Tam leaned against her legs and whined.

“Are ye satisfied?” she snapped.

“Nae. Answer my question. And call off yer dog.”

She ignored his complaint about Tam. “’Tis none of yer concern, but I have been sick for a few days. I am fine now, but it was a stomach complaint and I did lose a bit of weight.”

Conn shook his head. “Being sick a few days doesnae make ye look like this. Tell me the truth. Why are ye marrying Gavin?”

Brianna flinched.
What does he ask? Does he wish to know the truth of my illness or why I will marry Gavin?
She felt the blood drain from her face.
The answer to both questions is the same.

She realized she still stared at him, and his eyes darkened, a sure indication of either passion or anger, and she was quite willing to bet this time it wasn’t passion. “I am marrying Gavin because he asked me to, and…and he loves me.” Belatedly, she remembered Conn had heard the words from Gavin himself three months earlier.

“Are ye with child?” His stony look dared her to look away from him again. Anger rose in her, the leaping pulse in her throat betraying her. With a muttered curse, Conn reached for her, encircling her waist with his hands. He stared at his thumbs which refused to meet by a good hand’s breadth around her middle, then perused her again, a much closer inspection this time.

“Ye are!” he ground between clenched teeth. “Ye not only look different, ye feel different.” His hands drifted upward, his palms against her breasts.

Brianna hissed and Tam snarled as he launched himself at Conn in Brianna’s defense. “Keep yer hands to yerself, Connor MacLaurey!” she snarled, hauling Tam bodily back amid the sound of ripping cloth. “The bairn isnae yers!”

“Ye lie!” he thundered as he grabbed his arm, his leine torn but his skin intact.

“’Tis Gavin’s,” she lied boldly, refusing to drop eye contact. He nodded his head once and took a step backward, then pivoted abruptly to the door. Once his back was turned, she whirled to face the wall, drained of all energy. She braced herself against the wooden boards, one hand twisted in Tam’s thick fur, her eyes closed tight as she waited to hear Conn’s footsteps in the hall.

A hand clamped onto her shoulder, and her eyes flew open in fright. Tam wriggled in her grasp, but she held him firm as Conn’s voice sounded low in her ear.

“If ye have lied to me, ye will wish the sheriff had hanged ye on the gallows,” he snarled. “Is the bairn mine?”

Brianna struggled to find her breath as she held Tam tight against her. “Nae.”

Without another word, Conn released her. He was gone in an instant, slamming the door behind him. Tam tore away, barking as he flung himself against the closed portal. Hot tears slid down Brianna’s cheeks.
St. Andrew’s blue bollocks! What a mess!

She did not fear his retribution. She knew him well enough and he wouldn’t take out his wrath on a woman. But she knew now she couldn’t live with not telling him. The question was, how to say the words? She’d asked for his trust and respect, but when put to the test, she fell as short as he.

Chapter 26

Gavin glanced across the practice field toward the stable. Worry lines creased his forehead.
She shouldnae still be in there. Her sickness has her weaker than she will admit, and that mare of hers is a handful
. He wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his forearm and froze, noticing a strange horse standing in the shade of a tree near the stable. Squinting against the glare of the sun, he saw the horse shake its glorious black mane and instantly recognized Conn’s bay stallion. Gavin sprinted to the barn, his heart pounding in his chest.

Conn burst through the doorway, slamming the door with angry force behind him. He saw Gavin and whirled toward him, smoothing the torn sleeve of his leine.

“Why is she lying about the bairn?” he demanded.

“I dinnae know her to lie,” Gavin replied carefully, assessing the likelihood Conn received the worst of his discussion with Brianna—and Tam.

Conn sneered. “Ye would make an admirable diplomat. Can no one here state the truth?”

Gavin took a deep breath, damping down the tremendous urge to start a brawl neither could win. Though a handful of years older than the laird, they were too well matched in size and brawn, and Conn was frustrated and angry, two traits likely to tip the odds in his favor.

“I will stand by what she has told ye. And remind ye she neither likes nor respects ye.”

Conn flinched. “So I have been told.”

“She is also certain, should ye decide the bairn is yers, ye will take him from her.”

Conn stared at him, his eyes wide with disbelief. “I wouldnae take the bairn away from her. She may grow vexed with the sight of me, and I would expect him to know I am his father. But I wouldnae take him from her. I couldnae do that.”

Gavin met Conn’s stare evenly, unable to detect a lie in him.

Conn jerked his chin over his shoulder in Brianna’s direction. “That bairn isnae yers. It hasnae been a month since I last saw her. And she wouldnae have slept with ye while betrothed to me.”

His voice contained a mixture of challenge and accusation, but Gavin did not rise to the bait. “Nae. She dinnae.”

“The bairn is mine. His mother, too.”

“Nae. The bairn may be yers, but his mother undoubtedly isnae.” Gavin’s denial was harsh, his hands fisted at his sides.

“Ye know she belongs to me.”

“She is no longer a pawn to be used between the clans.”

“Pawn? Nae, she will be my wife!” Conn retorted with heat.

“She has agreed to marry
me
.”

Conn shook his head, denying Gavin’s claim. “What would it take for ye to give her up?”

“What made ye let her go?” Gavin challenged.

“I couldnae bear to see her so unhappy. She wouldnae listen to me, but I would sooner lose an arm than make her feel so miserable again.”

“Ye released her out of grief and sadness. I would only release her into happiness. She must choose ye of her own free will—and be glad.”

“How much time?”

“We marry in less than a week.”

A look of panic swept across Conn’s face and Gavin hid a smile. It would take days, if not weeks, just to get Brianna to agree to see, much less speak to him again.
The laird may as well try summoning the spirits in the standing stones on the hill. Getting stones to talk to him would be easier
.

* * *

Brianna entered her bedroom and shut the door firmly behind her. Leaving Tam and Jamie wrestling in the hall, she sought quiet to sort her thoughts.

Conn had been angry. Furious. It had rolled off him in palpable waves, and her breathing had yet to return to normal. Though he had shouted at her, even threatened her, he had been aggrieved. Strained. Until he discovered she was with child, he had only wanted to know why she was marrying Gavin.
Why?
She cringed as she remembered the longing in the single word.

She crossed the room to stand before her mirror. Shrugging out of her gown, she stared at her body through the filmy shift in the silvered reflection. There was a subtle difference—her breasts were a little more full, her tummy a bit rounder. She placed a hand hesitantly on the slight swell of her stomach. There was no movement. But it was real. Soon she would feel the flutter of the life inside her. Her baby. Conn’s baby.

Oh, Conn. What am I to do?

* * *

Flowers lay beside her platter, their harvest colors warm on the scrubbed wooden table. Brianna stared at them in surprise. Glancing around the room, she sought Gavin to thank him for the thoughtful gift. She knew he was a kind man, but she never thought him to be the sort to give her flowers. He was aware of her encounter with Conn earlier in the day, and she warmed at this silent statement of love, or support, or whatever the bouquet of flowers was meant to be. But he was not in the hall.

She ate, pushing aside the accusations in her head over her decision to not tell Conn about the bairn. She wanted him raised as Gavin’s child. So why did her heart twist inside her each time she thought of it? And, why, by St. Andrew, couldn’t she stop thinking about it?

At last Gavin walked through the door, and lightly brushed his lips across her forehead. She brightened.
I have made the right decision. Gavin is a good, honorable man.
She smiled warmly at him. “I thank ye for the flowers.”