"There were no bruises," the laird replied. "I thought she made the tale up to gain my sympathy. I'm a man who admits he's wrong when he is," he added with a nod.
Father MacKechnie was pleased to hear the laird's confession. "It's a fair start," he remarked.
"Give me the name of the man, Clare."
"Father, I'm sorry you're disappointed in me. You mustn't blame the MacBains, for this was fully my sin."
"I'm wanting the name, daughter."
Johanna didn't care for the laird's harsh tone of voice. She moved to put herself between father and daughter.
Gabriel saw the expression on her face and immediately reached out to take hold of her arm. Laird MacKay also realized what Johanna was doing.
"Do you think to protect my daughter from me?" he asked. He sounded astonished.
Johanna didn't answer his question. She tried to turn his attention.
"I have misjudged you, sir, for I now realize you do love your daughter. Clare needs rest now. She took several blows to the head, and she's very weak. Why, even now she's struggling to keep her eyes open."
She prayed Clare would take the hint. She nodded to the laird to emphasize her lie, then moved aside so he could see his daughter.
Clare had caught onto the plan. Her eyes were closed, and she looked as though she'd already fallen asleep. Johanna lowered her voice when she said, "Do you see, Laird? She needs rest if she is ever going to recover. 'Tis the truth she could still die."
"I was wanting to take her back home with me," the laird whispered back.
"She's getting excellent care here, Laird," Father MacKechnie announced. "Your daughter doesn't appear to be strong enough to go anywhere. Best leave her be. She's under Laird MacBain's protection. She can't have better than that."
"She does have better," Gabriel interjected. "She has my wife's protection as well."
Laird MacKay found his first smile. "I can see that she does."
"Perhaps we should go downstairs to discuss this worrisome topic," Father MacKechnie suggested. "The matter of who fathered her child can wait, can't it?"
"The man will wed my daughter. I'm wanting your assurance. MacBain."
Gabriel frowned. "I put the question to each…"
Johanna interrupted. "He asked some of his soldiers," she blurted out. "But not all of them, of course. There are… so many, and some haven't returned from… duties. Isn't that right, husband?"
Gabriel didn't blink an eye over his wife's lie. "That is correct," he announced.
"But I'm wanting to know, Laird, if you stand with me on the marriage issue," MacKay muttered. "Will you demand the soldier responsible for disgracing Clare marry her?"
"I will."
MacKay looked satisfied. The priest hurried over to the entrance and pulled the door open. Laird MacKay gave his daughter an awkward pat on her shoulder and then turned to leave. Gabriel gave Johanna a hard wait-until-I-get-you-alone look before following Clare's father out the doorway.
"You took my daughter in, MacBain, protected her, too, and your wife has shown her compassion. I won't be warring against you if a marriage comes about. We could have us a fair alliance…"
Father MacKechnie pulled the door closed, cutting off Laird MacKay's remarks.
Johanna collapsed into the chair and let out a loud sigh.
"You may open your eyes now, Clare."
"What are we going to do, Johanna? I have to tell my father the truth."
Johanna nibbled on her lower lip while she thought about the problem.
"At least now we know you won't be sent back to the MacInnes clan. Your father might have been blinded before by the fever of an alliance, but he certainly had his eyes opened just now. When he saw the bruises on your face, he was convinced. He loves you, Clare."
"I love him, too," Clare whispered. "I didn't mean it when I said I hated him. I was… angry. Oh, what a mess I've made. I don't know what Father will do when he finds out I'm not carrying."
Long minutes passed in silence. Then Johanna straightened in her chair. "There's only one solution to this problem."
"I know," Clare said, guessing Johanna was going to instruct her to tell the truth. "I have to…"
Johanna smiled. "Get married."
"I what?"
"Don't look so stunned, Clare. It's a sound solution."
"Who would have me? I'm supposed to be carrying, remember?"
"We're clever enough to think of a solution," Johanna insisted. "We'll find someone suitable."
"I don't want to get married."
"Are you being stubborn or sincere?"
"Both, I think," she admitted. "The thought of marrying anyone remotely like Robert MacInnes makes my stomach turn."
"Of course it does, but if we can find someone who realizes your value and treats you with respect, then wouldn't you be happy to marry him?"
"Such a man does not exist."
"My husband is such a man."
Clare smiled. "He's already married."
"Aye, he is," Johanna agreed. "But there are other men almost as perfect," she added in a whisper.
"You are so fortunate, Johanna."
"Why is that, Clare?"
"You love your husband."
Johanna didn't react to the truth for a long minute. Then she leaned back in her chair and let all her indecision and her insecurities go.
"I do love him."
The wonder in her voice made Clare smile. "Have you only just realized it?"
Johanna shook her head. "I do love him," she repeated. "But I realize now I have loved him for a long time. Isn't it odd I couldn't acknowledge my feelings, even to myself? I have been foolishly trying to protect myself," she added with a nod. "No one likes to feel vulnerable. Good God, I love him with all my heart."
The sound of her laughter filled the chamber. It was filled with such joy, Clare found herself laughing, too.
"I assume you've never told him how you feel," Clare remarked.
"No," Johanna answered.
"Then what do you say when he tells you he loves you?"
"Oh, Gabriel has never told me he loves me," she explained. "He doesn't realize it, you see, at least not yet. Eventually he'll acknowledge he loves me, but I doubt he'll ever tell me."
She paused to laugh again. "My husband is so unlike the barons in England, and I thank God for that blessing. The men I knew there would sing sweet ballads to the ladies they held in esteem. They hired others to write down poetic words of love for them to recite. The men were quite flowery in their pretty speeches. Most of it was nonsense, of course, and certainly insincere, but the barons believed they were chivalrous. They all held courtly love in high regard."
Clare's curiosity had been caught, and she asked Johanna several more questions about the men in England. A good hour passed in conversation before Johanna finally insisted Clare get some rest.
"Now that your father has seen you, do let Glynis trim your hair."
Clare agreed. Johanna stood up to take her leave.
"Will you tell your husband the truth about me?" Clare asked.
"Yes," Johanna answered. "Eventually," she hastily added. "I must choose the right moment."
"What will he do?"
Johanna opened the door before replying. "He'll growl something fierce I imagine, and then he'll help me figure out what to do."
Hilda was coming down the hallway with a tray of food for her patient. Johanna backed up so the cook could get past her.
"Laird MacKay left," Hilda announced. "He's going to let you stay here until you're strong enough to go home with him, lass. Lady Johanna, they're waiting on you to start supper. The men are surly with hunger. You'd best get yourself down there."
Hilda placed the tray on Clare's lap. "You, lass, are going to eat every morsel, and I'm going to stand here to see that you do. You need to regain your strength," she added with a nod.
Johanna turned to leave, then suddenly stopped. "If either of you ladies should hear a commoti
on coming from the hall, please don't be concerned. I've planned a little surprise, you see, and some of the soldiers might become a bit upset."
Hilda and Clare both demanded to know what the surprise was. Johanna shook her head. "You'll find out soon enough," she promised.
Johanna wouldn't let them prod her into explaining. She went down to her chamber and changed into the plaid she'd hidden under the bed. Alex came into the room while she was adjusting her pleats under her belt.
"Hurry and shut the door," she ordered.
"What for?" Alex asked.
He didn't seem to want an explanation. He didn't notice anything different about her plaid either. The little boy ran over to his bed, lifted the mat, and pulled out a long wooden sword.
"Auggie's going to show me how to fence," he announced.
"Have you had your supper?" Johanna asked.
"I ate with Auggie," Alex answered as he ran for the door.
"One minute, please."
He slid to a halt. "Come and kiss me good-bye," she ordered.
"I don't want you to go away."
He fairly shouted his worry. Johanna hurried to assure him. "I'm not going anywhere," she told him.
Alex wasn't convinced. He dropped his wooden sword and ran to her. He threw himself into her arms and held tight.
"I don't want you to go away," he repeated.
Lord, what had she started? "Alex, now that I'm your mother, I wish for you to kiss me every now and again when you leave. Do you understand? You told me you were going with Auggie, and that is why I asked for a kiss before you left."
It took her another ten minutes to convince the child. She stroked his back until he was ready to let go of her.
"I'm not going away," he said then. "I'm just going outside."
"You're still leaving," she replied. "And so I ask you again for a kiss."
She leaned down close to Alex. He stretched up and gave her a wet kiss on her cheek.
Alex picked up his sword and ran for the door. "You're supposed to sit by the fire and sew, Mama. Papa said so."
"Is that right?"
Alex opened the door. "It is so," he answered. "Papa said."
"What else did your father say?"
Alex turned and pointed at her. "You're supposed to stay where he puts you. Don't you remember?"
She was going to have to have a talk with Gabriel about the outrageous things he was telling their child.
"I do remember," she answered. "Go along now. You don't want to keep Auggie waiting."
Alex forgot to shut the door. Johanna finished adjusting her plaid, took a deep breath, and then went downstairs.
Megan was just starting up the steps to fetch her mistress. She almost toppled over the banister when she noticed what Johanna was wearing.
"You can't be so cold that you need two plaids, m'lady. Why, it's sweltering in here."
"I'm not wearing two plaids," Johanna explained. "I'm only wearing one."
Megan climbed a few more steps so she could get a closer look. "Good God, you made a new plaid. Does our laird know what you've done?"
"Not yet," Johanna answered.
Megan made the sign of the cross. Johanna tried to make her understand. "I'm sure mv husband will give me his full support. My opinions and suggestions are important to him. Yes, I'm sure he'll stand behind me on this issue."
Megan made another sign of the cross. She obviously wasn't convinced.
Johanna was exasperated. "It's going to be fine," she promised. "Stop doing that," she added when Megan's hand flew to her forehead again to make yet another sign of the cross.
"No one's seen you yet," Megan blurted out. "There's still time to change into a proper plaid."
"Nonsense," Johanna replied. She tried to maintain her serene expression. In truth, Megan's reaction did make her a bit nervous. She straightened her shoulders and continued on down the steps. Megan lifted her skirts and hurried past her.
"Where are you going?" Johanna asked when Megan started down the corridor leading to the back of the keep.
"I'm going to fetch a few extra bowls, m'lady. I've a feeling you'll be needing at least five before you gain the men's cooperation."
Megan disappeared around the corner before Johanna could tell her she had no intention of throwing anything. Father MacKechnie drew her attention then when he walked inside. She turned to smile at him. He gawked at her.
Johanna stood on the bottom step and waited until the priest recovered from his surprise.
"Well now," he whispered. "Well now."
"Good evening, Father."
He didn't respond to her greeting. He seemed to be in a bit of a stupor. His reaction was making her apprehensive.
"Do you think my husband and his soldiers will be overly upset with me?"
The priest broke into a wide grin. "I'll stand by your side when we find out," he said. "I would be honored to escort you to your husband."
The priest took hold of Johanna's arm. She didn't notice. "I expect them to be a little upset at first," she explained. "But only just a little."
"Yes," he agreed. "Tell me, lass. When was your last confession?"
"Why do you ask?"
"It's preferred to receive absolution before you meet your Maker."
Johanna's smile was forced. "You exaggerate the men's reaction. None would dare harm me."
"I wasn't thinking about the men," he replied. "I was considering your husband's reaction. Come along, lass. I'm anxious to witness the battle you're about to wage."
"They'll all get past their anger."
"Eventually," the priest speculated. "The Highlanders consider their plaids sacred, Johanna."
"Oh, Lord, I shouldn't have…"
"Of course you should have," the priest countered. He was in the process of prying her hand away from the railing.
"Father, are you for or against this change in our plaids?"
"I'm for it," the priest answered. He burst into laughter then. "I almost fasted today for penance. Now I'm glad I didn't. I would have missed…"
He didn't finish his explanation. She let out a groan. "You're making me terribly nervous," she confessed.
"Forgive me, lass. I don't mean to tease you. You know you're going to have to let go of that railing eventually."
"I'll act as though nothing is out of the ordinary," she blurted out. "What think you of that plan?"
"It's plain ignorant, lass," he told her.
"Yes, that's what I'll do." She let go of the railing and took hold of Father MacKechnie's arm. "I'll plead ignorance. Thank you. You've given me a wonderful suggestion."
"If I were you, I'd plead insanity."
Father MacKechnie was sorry he'd made the jest the minute the words were out of his mouth. He was paying for his rash comment, too, for he was now having to drag his mistress over to the steps.
"I'll stand by your side," he promised. "Don't you worry. It will all wash out."
The soldiers were all standing around the tables. Gabriel stood near the buttery. He was talking to Calum and Keith. He spotted her before anyone else did.
He squinted at her, then closed his eyes and looked again. She smiled as she continued toward her seat at the table.
Keith and Calum both turned at the same time.
"My God, what's she done to our plaid?" Calum bellowed his question.
"Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?" Keith asked in a shout of his own at the very same time.
Everyone turned to look at Johanna then. A collective gasp filled the air.
Johanna pretended not to notice the horrified expressions on the men's faces.
"I told you it would be all right," she boasted in a whisper to the priest.
Gabriel leaned back against the wall and continued to stare at his wife.
"MacBain, you'd best do something before all hell breaks loose," Calum said.
Gabriel shook his head. "It's too late," he remarked. "And high time one of us did something," he added./> Keith's face had turned bright red. "Lady Johanna, what have you done?"
"I'm trying to please you, Keith," she replied.
He did a double take. "You think to please me by joining the MacBain plaid to mine? How could you think… how could you believe I would…"
He was actually sputtering. She prayed it was due to his surprise and not indignation. "You know I can't seem to keep my days straight. You have noticed that flaw, haven't you?"
"Flaw?"
"My faulty memory," she explained. "Come and sit beside me, Keith, and I shall give you a proper explanation for my bold action. Calum, you take Keith's place at the other table."
Johanna kept giving her husband wary glances every other second. He hadn't shown any outward reaction to her surprise… yet.
"Gabriel, are you ready to sit down?" she called out.
She had a death grip on Father MacKechnie's arm. He patted her hand in a bid to get her to let go of him.
"Where would you like me to sit, lass?"
"On Gabriel's left," she answered, "and across from me. It will be easier for you to give me the last rites if it becomes necessary," she added in a whisper.
"Did you forget which day it was and that was your reason for wearing both plaids?" Lindsay wanted to know.
"It is only one plaid," Johanna explained. "I cut them each down the middle and then sewed one half of each together to form this one. The colors blend together quite nicely."
Johanna reached her chair and turned to Gabriel. He was still leaning against the wall, staring at her.
His silence made her even more nervous. "Gabriel?"
He didn't answer her. She couldn't stand waiting to hear what he thought of her boldness. "Please tell me how you feel about this change," she asked.
He suddenly pulled away from the wall. His voice was hard and angry when he spoke.
"I'm most displeased."
She turned her attention to the table. She tried to hide her hurt and her disappointment. She'd hoped for his support, of course. 'Tis the truth, she'd expected it. His disappointment fairly overwhelmed her.
She heard several loud grunts of approval. She didn't look up to see who the offenders were.
Gabriel walked over to the table. He nudged her chin up, then put his hands on her shoulders.
"I should have thought of this myself, Johanna."