Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

‘Arabella?'

She threw her arms around her head and tried to shield herself from the horrible screaming.

‘Arabella, love,' he said again.

‘Shh,' she urged but then that noise shook inside her head, too.

‘Drink this.' Someone lifted her head and touched a cup to her lips. ‘Just a sip.'

Cold water. It tasted so good to her parched mouth that she wanted more. And she would have had more if the cup had not disappeared.

‘You must try to open your eyes and wake now.'

It was Brodie's voice she heard and she wanted to see him, but the confusion and dizziness still assailed her terribly. She fell back into the stupor and knew nothing.

* * *

Until she did.

Surrounded by heat, she opened her eyes and found herself in a large bed, with Brodie curled around her. She lifted her head slowly and discovered the light-headedness was dissipating. If she moved a little bit at a time, she could turn her head.

He lay there, his bandaged hand and arm draped over her hip. She wore garments as did he, which she discovered when she pushed herself around to face him.

He looked terrible! She'd thought the potion Caelan had forced into her had caused her to see such a distorted version of his face, but now she could see it clearly. His one eye was swollen shut and his nose was puffed up and bruised badly. Though some had been dressed, she could count more than five gashes on his face and neck.

Then, searching back through those strange visions, she realised what had happened.

‘Caelan?' she asked, already knowing he must be dead.

‘Your father saw to his end.' She shivered, knowing it was better that she had not witnessed her father taking revenge for her brother's life.

‘So you did go to my father for help.'

He opened the one eye that would and nodded. ‘Aye.'

‘And this was his help?' Her father was a hard man, but this was...

‘This was when he believed I had killed Malcolm.'

‘The potion. Caelan said he'd used too much on you and Malcolm.' She touched his face then. ‘You did not kill my brother.' She'd been so wrong about him, as had everyone else. And yet he had kept faith with all of them. ‘Can you forgive me for thinking the worst of you?'

He nodded and a smile brought the edges of his mouth up. ‘Aye.'

‘That quickly? You can forgive me?'

‘You loved me even believing I killed him. If you could do that,' he whispered, ‘how could I not forgive you?'

He leaned over to kiss her but the door burst open and people poured in. Still groggy, she shook her head as she watched both Camerons and Mackintoshes fill the chamber. If anyone thought it amiss that she lay there with him, no one, not even her father, objected.

The strangest thing was that her father helped her off the bed and hugged her fiercely, whispering endearments and promises in her ear. From the satisfied look on his face and the way he nodded and smiled at her, she knew Brodie had something to do with this, as well.

From what she could see and what she'd heard, he would need some time to remain abed and heal. But the daft man tried to stand up when Grigor arrived in the chamber.

She understood—a man stood when his chieftain entered a room and so Brodie tried once more to push his beaten body from the bed only to be pushed back by the elder.

‘Rest now. You deserve it, Brodie.'

Grigor glanced around the chamber and nodded. To a one, the Mackintoshes dropped to their knees around the bed. Brodie began to object then, but Grigor silenced him with a gesture.

‘While you have been here,' he said, ‘the elders have finally been tending to clan business. We examined the documents and the rest of the evidence you gathered and settled the matter of inheritance. Well, most of the elders did. Some left in haste during the night.' Some of the men laughed and she did not doubt that a few of the elders had been urged along in their leaving.

‘With Caelan's death, the seat was opened. The council has voted and appoints you, Brodie Mackintosh, as chieftain.'

Brodie began to object, to offer his loyalty to Grigor as he'd planned to do, when Grigor went down on his knee and bowed his head in obeisance, ignoring him. He struggled to rise from the bed when the chanting began.

‘A Mackintosh! Loch moigh!'

Arabella knew it was the Mackintosh battle cry and it rose and echoed throughout Drumlui Keep. She leaned over and whispered to him.

‘You kept your faith in them. Let them keep faith with you, Brodie.'

He fell back, taking her hand and entwining their fingers as he liked to do. When he pulled her closer to kiss her, she saw that his lips were split and bruised. So, she kissed him on the one place on his forehead that was not bruised.

* * *

It took several weeks to sort through the clan's business and set things to rights. Messengers came and went from Drumlui as Brodie made new alliances, strengthened others and severed a few rotten ones. Her father counselled him, as did Grigor, and Rob and some other trusted warriors. Caelan had caused such damage in trying to seek vengeance and it would take time to correct it all. But they would have that time.

Her father told her the rest of it when she left Brodie to rest. They grieved together for the loss of their Malcolm, now knowing the truth of how he'd died. And he spoke of her mother for the first time, explaining and apologising for the distance between them.

She also discovered that she had been betrothed to Brodie as part of the new contracts and agreements. Arabella smiled at that arrangement, wondering if he would ask her himself before they married.

* * *

A week later, she learned the answer when she arrived in the hall for their noon meal.

‘My lady.'

She turned to find the women who'd lived in the camp there. Margaret, Bradana and the rest. She hugged them all, asking about the children and their husbands.

‘Brodie sent word for us to return,' Margaret explained.

‘He did not want to accept it,' she told them. They laughed over his stubbornness until he left the table and came to them.

‘Welcome home, Margaret,' he said. ‘Does Rob know you are here yet?'

‘He does now,' Arabella said, watching as Rob strode across the hall to his sister and grabbed her in a fierce embrace.

‘Bradana, I wondered if Fia would like to serve as my maid,' Arabella asked. The girl was pleasant and it would give her a respected place in their household.

‘Oh, my lady! She will be so pleased,' Bradana said.

‘And I have asked young Alan to serve me,' Brodie said.

Already there were signs of a blending of their kith and kin. A good sign. Brodie moved to her side and then gestured for quiet.

‘I know that we are betrothed, Arabella, but a wise woman once told me that I should say the right words to you and I have not had the chance,' he said. Margaret laughed the loudest and nodded at him, telling her and everyone just which wise woman had spoken her piece to him.

‘You had every reason to hate me, but you did not. You had every reason to fear me, but you did not. Instead, you made me question myself and everything I believed.' Tears filled her eyes as he spoke of things she never thought to hear. ‘You loved me in spite of what you believed. You loved me in spite of being enemies. You had faith in me when I did not.'

He paused then and looked to her. ‘So, I will give you the only thing I can give you. Freedom. 'Tis your choice. You are not bound by any contract to me unless you wish it to be so.' He kissed her then, taking her breath and her wits. ‘But I hope you will choose me.'

Before she could say anything, a woman called out, ‘Ye daft man, she chose you a long time ago!'

He waited, watching her and giving her the freedom of her own mind, though it was, as had been said, a choice she'd made some time ago. That night when she'd gone to his cave to betray him and instead had given him her love.

‘You are my choice, Brodie.'

‘You heard her, Father,' Brodie called out to the priest she had not seen there earlier. ‘A wedding it is.'

The hall erupted into cheering and Arabella found herself carried to the dais in Brodie's arms and placed before the new priest sent to serve God's people in Drumlui.

‘I had faith you would say aye.' He winked at her as the priest began the ceremony and they exchanged vows there before her family and his.

The noon meal became their wedding feast and Arabella enjoyed it more as she watched Brodie finally accept his place there. It was hours before they were able to make their way to their bedchamber.

And, hours more before she could move or think or put words together.

* * *

He turned to watch her as she slept, still not able to believe she was his in every way that meant anything. Oh, the contracts covered the law and the Church, but she had chosen to say aye to him and the love he brought to her. Lifting her hair out of her face, he counted the seconds of each breath she took and smiled as she mumbled under her breath.

Apparently, 'twas a bad habit she'd picked up while his prisoner. As was her habit of questioning him every chance she could. He did not mind her earlier questions at all for they were about the ways he wanted to take her. She'd remembered that comment and brought it up all through the day, leaving him hard for all those hours between the wedding and their leave-taking. But she had paid for it once they reached their chambers.

Or had he paid the price?

It mattered not.

‘What are you doing?' she asked in the husky voice of sleep that made his body respond...again.

‘Just waiting for you to wake,' he said, kissing the tip of her nose. He hesitated for a moment, thinking that she would tell him no since he'd wakened her several, well, four times this night already. Lucky for them that they had married in late autumn when the nights grew very long, giving them plenty of time to be abed.

‘I wonder if I should tell you of my wicked dreams this time?' she asked, leaning up on her elbow and stretching out alongside him so their bodies touched.

‘When did you begin having wicked dreams?' he asked, wrapping his arm around her and kissing her.

She might be the death of him if she continued to accept his every overture, but right now, as his body and heart and soul warmed next to her, he cared not.

‘Well, there was this cave in my dream...' she began. As she whispered, she touched. As she touched, she loved him and healed him of the betrayals and hurts of the past.

And he loved her more than all the horses and cattle they'd bought with the gold from her dowry.