Saving Grace

He scowled with frustration. "I have been trying to get used to having a wife, Johanna. You make the adjustment difficult. Why in God's name are you smiling?"

"I have only just realized, m'lord, that your anger is due to my near miss. I believed you were upset because I disregarded your suggestion to rest. Now I understand," she added with a nod. " 'Tis the truth you're beginning to care for me. Your heart has softened, hasn't it, husband?"

He wasn't about to let her jump to such foolish conclusions. He shook his head. "You're my wife and I will always protect you. That is my duty, Johanna. But I'm a warrior, first and always. You seem to have forgotten that important fact."

She didn't know what in heaven's name he was talking about. "What does being a warrior have to do with your attitude toward me?"

"Matters of the heart do not concern me," he explained.

She straightened her shoulders. "They don't concern me either," she replied, lest he believe she'd been hurt by his opinion. "And I, too, thought only to get used to having you around."

He could tell from the look in her eyes he'd somehow injured her feelings. He reached up, cupped the back of her neck with his hand, and pulled her toward him. He kissed her long and hard. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him back. When he pulled away, she almost slumped off her mount. He put his hands on her waist to keep her from falling.

"Give me your promise before we leave."

"I promise."

Her immediate agreement improved his mood. It didn't last long. Damned if she didn't deliberately provoke his temper again.

"Exactly what did I just promise, m'lord?"

"You promised not to leave the keep without a proper escort!"

He really hadn't meant to shout, but Lord, she made him crazed. What had they been discussing for the past ten ' minutes?

Johanna trailed her fingers down the side of his neck. His frown was intense, and she thought only to soothe him. She added a little praise to her caress of affection.

"'Tis the truth you make me forget everything when you kiss me. That is the reason I forgot what I promised you, m'lord."

He couldn't fault her for admitting the truth. There were times when he was also affected by her kisses. Certainly not as often as his wife, of course, he qualified to himself.

Johanna swung her leg over the saddle and tried to get down. Gabriel tightened his hold on her waist to keep her from moving.

"I would like to show you something," she announced. "I had thought to wait until tomorrow, for I judged it would take you that long to forget about today's little incident, but I've changed my mind, Gabriel. I want to show you now. My surprise will surely improve your mood. Do let me down."

"I'm never going to forget about today's incident," he muttered. He kept up his scowl while he assisted her to the ground, then caught hold of her hand when she tried to walk away from him.

He reached up to retrieve her bow from the back of the saddle, then followed her into the cave. He had difficulty getting through the entrance. He had to squeeze his way through and keep his head tucked; but once he'd reached the cavern proper and saw the barrels, he quit his muttering over the inconveniences his wife forced on him.

Her enthusiasm over the find was more pleasing to him than the treasure itself.

"Now you will have something of value to barter," she announced. "And you'll have no need to steal again. What say you to that, m'lord?"

"Ah, Johanna, you take the joy out of my hunts," he replied.

She didn't like hearing that. "It is my duty to save your soul, husband, and by God, I'm going to try, with or without your cooperation."

He laughed. The sound echoed throughout the cavern, bouncing from stone to stone.

Gabriel was able to maintain his cheerful mood until it dawned on him that his wife had gone inside alone to find the treasure.

"You could have walked into their lair!" he suddenly bellowed.

The swift change in his behavior caught her by surprise. She took a step back away from her husband. He immediately softened his tone. "What would you have done if wolves had followed you in here?"

She could tell he was struggling to control his temper. Gabriel really was a kind-hearted man. He knew she didn't like it when he shouted and was, therefore, trying to accommodate her.

From the look in his eyes, she guessed it was killing him.

She didn't dare smile. He'd think she wasn't taking the topic seriously.

"It is true, m'lord, I didn't consider that possibility. I was so excited when I found the cave, I forgot to be cautious. Still," she added in a rush when he appeared ready to interrupt her, "I believe I would have been all right. Yes, I would have," she added with a nod. "Why, I probably would have flown up those barrels. 'Tis the truth I flew up the tree to get away from the horrid beasts. I almost didn't make it. One grabbed hold of the hem of my plaid and I…"

The expression on her husband's face told her she shouldn't have gone into such explicit detail. Gabriel was getting all riled up again.

She knew he was beginning to care about her all right. His heart was softening toward her whether he wanted to admit it or not. He wouldn't be this upset if he didn't care, would he?

Johanna was pleased with this proof of her husband's affections until she realized how much it mattered to her. Then she began to worry. Why did she care how he felt about her? Was she also softening in her feelings toward him? Good God, was she beginning to love the barbarian?

The possibility appalled her. She shook her head in denial. She wasn't about to allow herself to become so vulnerable.

Gabriel was relieved to see her frown. She'd gone pale, too. He nodded with satisfaction. The woman was finally understanding what could have happened to her.

"I was beginning to believe you were completely lacking in common sense," he muttered.

"I have plenty of common sense," she boasted in reply.

He wasn't going to argue with her. He dragged her back outside. While she waited, he blocked the entrance with stones so the animals couldn't get inside.

She rode on his lap back to the keep. The sun was shining again by the time they reached the ridge.

Johanna forced herself to put her worries aside. She could certainly control her own emotions, after all; and if she didn't wish to love Gabriel, then, by God, she wouldn't.

"You're as tense as the string on your bow, wife. I can understand why, of course. You've finally realized how close you came to death today. Lean back against me and close your eyes. You should rest."

She did as he suggested. She thought to have the last word on the topic, however. "Never once did I believe I was going to die, m'lord. I knew that eventually you or the other soldiers would find me. I was safe in the tree."

"You were still worried," he told her.

"Of course I was worried. There were wild wolves circling below me."

She was getting tense again. He squeezed her. "You were also worried because you believed you disappointed me," he remarked.

She rolled her eyes heavenward. Her husband certainly had an ego. "You think I believed I disappointed you?"

He frowned over the laughter he heard in her voice. "Yes, of course," he answered.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did I believe I disappointed you?"

He let out a long sigh. "You realized you caused me needless concern," he answered.

"So you admit you were worried about me?"

"Damn it, woman, I just said I was."

She smiled. Gabriel sounded surly again. She didn't turn around to look at his face, but she knew he was scowling. She patted his arm in an attempt to soothe him.

"I'm happy to know you were concerned about me, even if you thought it was a needless inconvenience."

"It was that, all right."

She ignored his rebuke. "Still, you should learn to have faith in me, m'lord. I can take care of myself."

"I'm not in the mood for one of your jests,

Johanna."

"I wasn't jesting."

"Aye, you were."

She quit trying to argue with him. After thinking about the topic for several minutes, she decided she really couldn't fault her husband for believing she couldn't take care of herself. She'd acted like a coward when she'd first met him, and she'd been very timid ever since. No, she couldn't blame him for believing she needed watching over. In time, however, she hoped to change his mind. She didn't want her husband to continue to think she was a weakling.

"Johanna, I don't want you to mention the barrels in the cave to anyone."

"As you wish, husband. Do you know what you'll do with them?"

"We'll discuss it later, after supper," he promised.

She nodded. Then she turned the topic. "How did you find me? I thought you went hunting for the day."

"There was a change in plans," he explained. "The MacInnes laird and ten of his soldiers were spotted crossing our border."

"Are they coming to your home, do you suppose?"

"Yes."

"What do they want?"

"I'll find out when they get here," he answered.

"And when will that be?"

"Late this afternoon."

"Will they stay for dinner?"

"No."

"It would be rude not to invite them to eat with you."

He shrugged. She wasn't deterred by his lack of interest. As his wife, she felt it was her duty to instill some manners in her husband.

"I shall instruct the servants to prepare places at your tables for your guests," she announced.

She waited for him to argue with her and was pleasantly surprised when he remained silent.

Johanna turned her attention to planning the menu. A sudden thought occurred to her. She let out a gasp. "Good Lord, Gabriel, you didn't steal from the MacInnes clan, did you?"

"No," he answered, smiling over the outrage in her voice.

She relaxed against him again. "Then we don't have to worry they're coming here to fight."

"Fight with only ten soldiers? No, that isn't a concern," he drawled out.

The amusement in his voice made her smile. Her husband was feeling more cheerful now. Perhaps his good mood was due to the fact that he was going to have company.

She would make certain the evening went well. There wouldn't be enough rabbit stew to go around unless she went hunting for more. She discarded that idea. The rabbits would have to simmer for several hours or be too tough to eat, and there wasn't time for that, anyway. Johanna decided she would change her clothes, then go to Cook and discuss the problem. Hilda would know how to stretch the meal, and Johanna would, of course, offer to help with the preparations.

She wished she could get rid of the Maclaurin soldiers for the night. They were so terribly loud, disruptive, and horribly rude. Why, the way they tried to outbelch each other was downright disgusting.

Still, she didn't want to hurt their feelings. They were part of Gabriel's clan now and would, therefore, have to be included.

They reached the courtyard. Gabriel dismounted first, then turned to assist her. He held her longer than necessary. She smiled up at her husband while she waited for him to let go of her.

"Johanna, you will not get into further mischief. I want you to go inside and…"

"Let me guess, m'lord," she interrupted. "You want me to rest, don't you?"

He smiled. Lord, she was fetching when she was disgruntled. "Aye, I do want you to rest."

He leaned down, kissed her, and then turned to lead his mount back to the stables.

Johanna shook her head over her husband's ridiculous orders. How could she take the time to rest when they had company coming for dinner?

She hurried inside, propped her bow and carrier against the wall at the bottom of the steps, and then went up to her chamber. It didn't take her long to change into dry clothes. Her hair was still too wet to properly braid. She tied it with a ribbon behind her neck, then hurried downstairs again.

Megan was standing by the doors, peeking outside.

"What are you doing, Megan?"

"The MacInnes soldiers are here."

"So soon?" Johanna asked. She went over to stand beside Megan. "Shouldn't we open the doors and welcome them inside?"

Megan shook her head. She moved out of the way so her mistress could look outside, then whispered, "Something's wrong, m'lady. Look at the way they're all frowning. They've carried along an offering for our laird though. Do you see the burlap draped over the laird's lap?"

"Let me have a look." Father MacKechnie whispered his request from behind the two women.

Johanna bumped into the priest when she turned around. She begged his forgiveness over her clumsiness, then explained why she'd been caught peeking at their company.

"Their behavior is most contradictory," she said.

"They're all scowling, but it's apparent they've carried along a gift for your laird. Perhaps their frowns are all for show."

"Nay, that can't be," Father MacKechnie replied. "The Highlanders aren't at all like the English, lass."

"What do you mean, Father? Men are men, regardless of how they dress."

The priest let the door close before answering her. "In my experiences with the English, I've noticed a peculiar trait. They always seem to have a hidden motive behind their actions."

"And the Highlanders?" she asked.

Father MacKechnie smiled. "We're a simple group, we are. What you see is what you have. Do you understand? We don't have time for secret motives."

"The MacInnes soldiers are frowning because they're angry about something," Megan interjected. "They aren't clever enough to use trickery."

The priest nodded agreement. "We have no use for subterfuge. Laird MacInnes looks as mad as a hornet someone just tried to swat. He's in a snit all right."

"Then we will have to do our best to soothe him. He is company, after all," she reasoned. "Megan, please go and tell Cook we'll be having eleven more for supper. Be sure to offer our assistance with the preparations. I'll be along in just a minute."

Megan hurried to do her mistress's bidding. "Cook won't mind the inconvenience," she called over her shoulder as she started down the hallway to the back door. "She's a MacBain, after all. She knows better than to complain."

Johanna frowned over that puzzling remark. Why did it matter if Cook was a MacBain or a Maclaurin? Megan had already disappeared, and so Johanna decided she'd have to wait until later to ask her for a proper explanation.

The priest turned her attention then when he pulled the door open. She stood behind him. "Which one is the laird?" she asked in a whisper.

"The old man with the bulging eyes seated atop the speckled mount," Father MacKechnie answered. "You'd best stay here, lass, until your husband has decided if he's going to let them come inside or not. I'll go out and speak to them."

Johanna nodded agreement. She stayed behind the door but peeked out to watch the priest. Father MacKechnie went down the steps and shouted his greeting.

The MacInnes soldiers ignored the priest. Their expressions seemed to be set in stone. Johanna found their behavior sinful. None of the men bothered to dismount either. Didn't they realize how offending their conduct was?

Johanna turned her attention to their laird. Father MacKechnie had been right, she decided. The man did have bulging eyes. He was old, too, with wrinkled skin and thick eyebrows. His gaze was directed on Gabriel. Johanna spotted her husband walking across the clearing. He stopped when he was several feet away from the MacInnes soldiers.

The laird said something that clearly infuriated Gabriel. Her husband's expression turned dark, chilling. Johanna had never seen that look before. She shivered in reaction. Gabriel looked ready to do battle.

The MacBain warriors walked over to stand behind their laird. The Maclaurins joined them.

The MacInnes laird motioned to one of his men. The soldier quickly dismounted and strutted over to his leader's side. He looked like his laird, and

Johanna thought he might be his son. She watched as he lifted the long burlap bag from his laird's lap. He adjusted the weight in his arms, turned, and walked around the front of the speckled mount. He stopped just a few feet away from Gabriel, lifted the sack, and threw it to the ground.

The bag tore open. Dust flew up in the air; and when it cleared, Johanna saw what the laird's gift was. A woman, so bloody and bruised her face was barely recognizable, spilled out and rolled onto her side. She was naked, and there wasn't a spot on her body left unmarked.

Johanna staggered back away from the door. She whimpered low in her throat. She thought she was going to throw up. She was so sickened by the sight of the broken woman, she wanted to weep with shame… and scream with fury.

She didn't do either. She reached for her bow and arrows instead.

Chapter 11

Johanna's hands shook, and all she could think about was being accurate with her aim when she killed the bastards who had committed this foul act.

Gabriel was shaking with his own fury. His hand moved to the tilt of his sword. He couldn't believe a Highlander would disgrace himself so thoroughly with such cowardly behavior. Yet the proof was on the ground in front of him.

Laird MacInnes looked smug now. Gabriel decided he would kill him first.

"Are you responsible for beating this woman to death?"

He hadn't asked the question; he'd roared it.

The MacInnes leader frowned in reaction. "She ain't dead. She's breathing still."

"Are you responsible?" Gabriel demanded again.

"I am," the laird shouted back. "I surely am."

It sounded like a boast to Gabriel, who started to pull his sword free. Laird MacInnes noticed the action and suddenly realized his tenuous position. He hurried to explain his reasons for beating the woman.

"Clare MacKay was placed in my household by her father," he shouted. "She was pledged to marry my eldest son, Robert." He paused to nod at the soldier standing next to his mount before continuing on. "I was going to unite our two clans and become a power to be reckoned with, but the bitch was soiled three months past, MacBain, and by one of your own. It be no use denying the truth, for your plaid was spotted by three of my men. Clare MacKay spent a full night with the man. At first she lied and claimed she stayed the night with her cousins. I was fool enough to believe her. Once she discovered she was carrying, she had the gall to boast about her sin. Isn't that the way of it, Robert?"