Chapter 12

Graeme put all the passion he possessed into kissing Annella. Not just because she inspired that burning need and desire in

him, one he'd never experienced to this level before in his life. He also did it because he didn't have the words to tell

her how he felt about her. He wanted to tell her that he respected and admired her for her strength and wit. He honestly did

not know and could not imagine any other woman in Scotland standing up to him the way she had over Raynard and all of his

other missteps since becoming laird in his brother's, and therefore her, place.

Most women found him intimidating. They bowed their heads and peered up shyly through their eyelashes at him and spoke in

soft whispers. Not his Annella, she was proud, commanding, walked with her head up and had absolutely no problem bellowing

at him like he was a clumsy new recruit among her soldiers. He didn't even mind that she'd called him an idiot earlier in

front of others. It had surprised him, but his ego wasn't so weak that her words hurt him.

Besides, once she'd begun to list her complaints with his decisions, Graeme realized that he had indeed been an idiot in those situations. A war with the Morgans would have not only ended their being allies with the neighboring clan, it would have meant injuries and deaths on both sides. Fathers, sons and brothers gone... because he hadn't stopped to question what his brother said.

Annella was also absolutely right about his removing his mother to the village with her maid, Agnes. He hadn't thought of

the repercussions and the fact that the maid, Bea, would need aid tending his father. Graeme had been in a lot of battles

and seen a lot of different injuries. He'd even helped the healers on the battlefield, holding a man down while the injured

were sewn up, or limbs were amputated. He'd also carried the injured and dead to tents or whatever wagon waited to carry them

away. He had not, however, been there to witness how they got on once healed. He'd had no idea that his father had to be shifted

to one side or the other to prevent bedsores, and he hadn't considered that paralyzed as he was from the waist down, he could

not get himself to the garderobe or in and out of a bath.

As for the wagonload of cloth he'd purchased, he hadn't even considered the number of coins he was throwing into that effort to please his wife, or that she'd worked hard to put coin away for their people. True, the coins he'd used had been his own from his years of mercenary work. Still, while he'd known or guessed that all was not well when he attended the wedding, he hadn't realized Gunn had been in such a bad way and in dire need of her dower when William had married her. He now wondered if it had been so as far back as when he'd left a decade ago. How long had Gunn been limping along, his father praying they were not beset by a crop failure or plague until Annella's dower could be claimed to act as a cushion?

Now there was Raynard. Unlike Annella, he didn't think Raynard would be able to shake the crutch drink had become for him.

At least, not as long as he was here at Gunn, where memories of a lost bairn and wife he'd apparently loved would be everywhere

he looked, taunting and torturing him with his loss. But the man might, were he to go somewhere else. Someplace where those

memories had a chance to fade. Knowing that this behavior was new and the result of a great loss, Graeme no longer intended

to cast him out though. Another plan had come to him.

One he didn't care to think of at that moment as his wife moaned and responded to his kiss, her body pressing and writhing

against his as her bandaged hands slid up around his neck. She was fire in his arms, uninhibited and demanding. Unashamed

of her need. Graeme had to admit that was one of the things he liked best about his wife. Not the sex, although he was grateful

and did love that, but more important to him was her honesty. She did not play games. He never doubted where he stood with

her. He knew when she was angry, happy, sad, and when she wanted him. He appreciated that and decided to show her how much.

Annella moaned in protest when Graeme broke their kiss to trail his mouth down her throat, but then gasped when his tongue dipped into the hollow between her breasts as he began to tug at the neckline of her gown. Panting with the sudden increase of excitement within her, Annella withdrew her arms from around his neck to reach for her lacings and help him bare her breasts, only to pause when her bandaged hands came into view, reminding her of how useless they were at the moment.

Chuckling, Graeme caught her wrists and moved her arms out to the side, then bent to the task of undoing the laces himself.

He didn't undo them all the way, push her gown off her shoulders and remove it as expected. Instead, he simply undid the lacings

enough to tug the neckline down below her breasts, baring them to his eager mouth.

Annella groaned, her head tipping back and her bandaged hands moving to rest on his shoulders as he found and began to nip

and then suckle at first one nipple and then the other. It was wonderful and frustrating as hell at the same time. She wanted

to touch him, run her hands through his hair and clasp his head to her breast. But all she could do was arch into his caresses

and murmur her pleasure as his mouth made a meal of her breasts and his hands cupped and squeezed the cheeks of her bottom.

"Husband," she moaned, her tone pleading for more, and Graeme immediately let the nipple he was suckling slip from his mouth

so that he could lift his head and kiss her.

Annella kissed him eagerly back, gasping when his hands tightened on her bottom and he lifted her off the ground to press her firmly against his groin so that she could feel his excitement. Annella immediately tried to wrap her legs around his hips, but he released her behind to force her legs back down, then lowered her until her feet were on the ground once more and he broke their kiss.

When she moaned in protest and opened her eyes, Graeme smiled. Leaning back slightly, he lifted one hand to her breast and

began to palm and knead it. "What do ye want?"

Annella blinked in confusion at the question. "I..."

"What do ye want, love," he repeated when she hesitated, now rolling her nipple between finger and thumb.

"You," Annella groaned, and at first thought it had been the wrong answer when he suddenly gave off playing with her breast

and stepped back. Blinking, she opened her mouth to beg him not to stop, then stilled, her eyes going wide when he suddenly

dropped to his knees, lifted her skirt and ducked under it.

Mouth open in surprise, she gaped down at the Graeme-shaped lump under her skirt, and then a startled squeak slipped from her and she reached for that lump when he grasped her ankles and urged them further apart. Balancing herself with one bandaged hand on top of his skirt-covered head, she swallowed and then started to breathe in shallow pants as he began to trail kisses up the inside of one leg. His lips and tongue moved from her knee up toward the apex of her need and nearly reached it before he suddenly backtracked to do the same up her other leg. This time he didn't stop, however, but drew that leg over his shoulder and buried his face between her thighs.

Annella cried out and then moaned as his lips, tongue and even his teeth scraped over sensitive flesh. The excitement and

need that brought to life in her left her gasping desperately for air, and her legs were suddenly so weak they could no longer

even hold her up. Fortunately, her husband was prepared for that, or at least did not seem surprised by it and braced her

with a hand on the hip of the one leg she was standing on, so that it and his shoulder under the other leg kept her upright.

Annella almost wished he'd let her fall to the ground. She had a desperate need to thrash and arch under his ministrations.

Instead, she could only curve over him and groan and mewl under the pleasure he was giving her as he made love to her with

his mouth.

Her excitement was such that Annella lost all awareness of her surroundings. Her world narrowed to that space between her

legs as he worked. Eagerly sucking one of the folds that protected the core of her into his mouth, and then releasing it to

lick and lave the pearl of her excitement with his tongue instead. Annella's body couldn't take such extreme pleasure for

long, and then she threw her head back and screamed out with rapture as her body began to convulse with her release.

Consumed by the sensations that had taken over her body, Annella was completely unaware of her husband or anything else until he was suddenly thrusting into her. Opening her eyes, she saw that she was now on her back on the ground. Her skirts were up around her waist, and Graeme was between her open legs, holding her hips off the ground so he could more easily plunge into her.

When her gaze slid to his face and she saw the tightness in his jaw, and the need in his eyes, Annella reached for his chest,

wanting to caress the hard muscles there only to once again be hampered by her bandaged hands. Cursing the burns and blisters

that had made them necessary, she let them drop to rest on her chest and instead did the only thing she could, and drew her

feet up closer to her behind, then lifted herself into his thrusts, urging him to go harder and deeper.

Growling, Graeme met her gaze. He then removed one hand from her hips, leaving the other only to direct her movements as he

reached down to where they were joined and began to caress her as he plunged into her with the violence and depth she demanded.

"Aye!" Annella cried, thrusting up into him one more time before her thought processes were stolen by the explosion suddenly

consuming her body. Fortunately, her muscles twitching and convulsing around his hard member brought her husband to release

a heartbeat later and he joined her in mindless pleasure.

"Do ye forgive me fer me idiot mistakes?"

Annella stiffened where she lay curled into Graeme's side, her head on his chest. She must have fallen asleep after the loving, because she'd opened drowsy eyes just moments ago to find herself in this position rather than flat on her back as she'd been during her last moment of consciousness. Opening her eyes, she considered his question and then grimaced and said, "They were no' idiot mistakes, husband."

"Verra well, do ye forgive me me no' idiot mistakes?" he asked.

Annella couldn't hold back the chuckle his words brought. Raising her head, she smiled at him and said, "Only if ye forgive

me temper, and fer callin' ye names ye did no' deserve."

Graeme smiled briefly, then grasped her by the waist and lifted her to lie on top of him, then drew her head down and kissed

her.

Annella moaned and writhed against him as the fire he'd just sated sprang immediately back to life within her. Her skirt had

still been caught around her stomach when he'd shifted her. It hadn't dropped lower with the movement, so that her naked flesh

was making direct contact with his as she moved against him. Sucking on his tongue with demand, Annella let her legs spread

and allowed her knees to drop to rest on either side of his hips. She then ground herself against the growing hardness pressing

against her, before breaking their kiss and pressing her bandaged hands to his chest to push herself to sit up on him. The

action caused a little pain in her fingers, but not enough to dampen the excitement building within her.

Once upright, her gown immediately dropped to rest on him, covering her bottom and legs. Her breasts were still on display,

however, and Graeme's gaze moved over them hungrily, before he grinned and asked, "Now what are ye goin' to do, wife?"

"I'm no' sure," she admitted, and then slid herself experimentally over him so that her wet heat rubbed along his hard shaft. Her eyes immediately widened at the sensations that sent through her. Then she smiled wickedly and did it again and again, until Graeme groaned and reached for her hips. Annella immediately knocked his hands away with her bandaged hands. "I'm in charge this time."

He didn't argue. He simply reached for her breasts instead.

"Oh, aye," Annella breathed, shifting over him again and arching into his touch as his hands closed over the full globes.

Pressing her hands against the backs of his for encouragement, she began to slide back and forth over him more quickly, pleasuring

herself on his shaft until they were both taut with excitement and breathing hard. When she could not take it anymore, Annella

lifted and shifted her hips until his erection popped up to press against her opening. She then carefully lowered herself

onto his shaft, moaning as he filled her.

Annella almost stopped then, unsure of herself, but she wasn't one to shrink from a task. Biting her lip, she leaned into

his hands that she still covered with her own, and used her leg muscles to lift and lower herself. She wasn't sure she liked

it all that much. It definitely felt better when he was controlling this, but Annella didn't give up and continued to lift

and lower herself, leaning further into his hands as she did. Ah. That made all the difference. This angle had the apex of

her excitement rubbing against his body as she moved, reigniting the fire that had been waning.

Realizing she'd closed her eyes, Annella opened them, intending to look down and see if this position was as good for him, and then screamed and threw herself to the side when she saw the bow and arrow visible through the trees directly ahead of her.

She wasn't quick enough. The archer must have released the arrow even as she started to move. Annella felt it like a punch

when it struck her in the right shoulder and she grunted at the pain, just before crashing to the ground on her left side.

Annella's left leg still rested along her husband's hip from the knee down, while her right leg lay across his groin. Not

for long, however. While Graeme had obviously been taken by surprise, he was moving no more than a heartbeat after she threw

herself off of him. He immediately rolled out from under her leg and to his feet in one smooth move, scooped her up and took

the few steps necessary to reach the large boulder she'd been sitting on earlier. He then dropped to his knees and eased her

to the ground to examine her wound.

"'Tis buried deep," he muttered with concern.

"Aye," Annella said shakily. She was not happy with the knowledge since her mind had already moved on to consider what would

need to be done to remove it.

"'Twill ha'e to be pushed out rather than pulled," he said apologetically. "Pulling could cause more damage than has already

been done."

"Aye," Annella agreed, somewhat surprised at his knowledge. But then she acknowledged that Teague was not the only one who had worked as a mercenary for the last ten years. Her husband too had no doubt seen a variety of wounds. He may even have received such a one himself. He did have a scar on his shoulder, but there wasn't one on his back in the same place and she'd thought it looked more like a knife wound than an arrow. But the two were similar enough that it was hard to tell.

"'Twill ha'e to wait until I've dealt with whoever shot ye and get ye back to the keep," Graeme muttered, and then met her

gaze. "Did ye see who 'twas who shot ye?"

Annella shook her head. "All I saw was the arrow and part o' a bow sticking out o' the bushes across from us."

Graeme grunted at this news, kissed her forehead, then raised himself up slightly to peer over the boulder in the direction

the arrow had come from.

When Annella then saw his head turn toward where his plaid and—most importantly—his sword, lay some feet from the safety the

boulder offered them, she bumped his arm with one bandaged hand and hissed, "Nay."

Graeme met her gaze and smiled reassuringly as he patted her arm. "Do no' worry, wife. I was just taking in our options. A

sword would do little against someone standing twenty feet away with a bow and arrow anyway."

Annella relaxed a little at his words and then glanced around. They were on the river side of the boulder and, unlike Graeme,

she couldn't see over the large mass of stone. All she could see was the narrow strip of grass on this side of the boulder

and the water rushing by beside them.

"Ye may as well come out! Ye're just delaying the inevitable!"

Annella's gaze shot to Graeme with shock as she heard that shout and recognized the voice.

Meeting her gaze, he said, "I'm gettin' the strong impression that me mother's no' happy about bein' moved out o' the castle."

Managing to bite back the small bark of laughter that his words inspired, she shook her head and asked, "Ye think?"

"I do," he said solemnly. "I really do."

Annella couldn't stop her laugh that time. It was the way his eyes were twinkling even as he said the words so seriously.

"Oh, aye, laugh away, you two, but I've more than a dozen arrows and all the time in the world."

Annella's mouth tightened at those words, her earlier urge to laugh dying an abrupt death.

Graeme offered her a reassuring smile, then shifted to his haunches and popped his head up, presumably to see where his mother

was. He was just as quick at pulling it back down below the cover the boulder offered, but almost wasn't quick enough. Annella

sucked in a horrified breath as an arrow whistled past, the light breeze of its passing stirring the hair on the top of his

head before it was low enough to be safe.

Graeme reached up to feel his head as he settled beside her, then noted her expression and offered, "Me mother is a fine bow

woman. She taught me and me brothers archery as lads."

"Great," Annella muttered and then scowled at him and added, "And if that's you tryin' to reassure me all will be well, ye

failed miserably."

This time it was Graeme who let a startled laugh slip out.

"Aye. Keep laughin'." His mother sounded irritated now. Apparently, she didn't feel they were taking her seriously, because

she added, "But I'll be the one laughin' in the end. O'er yer graves."

Graeme's laughter died and he glanced sharply to the end of the boulder.

Annella didn't have to ask why. Eschina's voice had come from closer than the twenty or so feet that had divided them the

first time. She was only mayhap ten or fifteen feet away now. But her voice also sounded as if it was coming more to the right,

rather directly in front of them too. She was making her way to the right and forward, hoping to get around the boulder and

shoot them from the side.

Annella tapped Graeme's arm to get his attention. When he glanced her way, she ground her teeth together against the pain

she was about to cause herself, and began to ease herself back along the side of the boulder toward the other end, using her

good arm and both legs to sort of scoot along. Her thinking was that, if necessary, they could duck around the end of the

boulder if Eschina came around the other side.

She thought it was a grand idea. While Eschina could certainly then maneuver her way back around front and approach the opposite

side of the boulder, they could then just scoot back behind the boulder and around the other side, remaining under cover.

His mother couldn't shoot them through the boulder, so as long as they kept it between them and her, they were safe.

If they were lucky, after a bit of time doing that, Eschina would get frustrated and try something stupid, like climbing up onto the boulder so that they would have no escape. But that would put her within grabbing distance, and Graeme would no doubt take her out then. Annella thought it was a brilliant plan, so was more than a little upset when Graeme's gaze shifted from watching her scoot backward to focusing hard on her wounded shoulder.

When she saw him shake his head and glance around, then pick up a rock that was about half the size of her fist, Annella knew

he planned to stand and hurl the rock at his mother. She decided right then that she would need to have a talk with Father

Gillepatric about some of those stories he told them from the Bible at mass. Her husband obviously thought his mother was

Goliath and he her David. But there had been no mention of Goliath having a bow and arrow that she recalled. And Annella was

sure that Eschina already had her bow up, arrow nocked, ready to let fly, and would let go the moment he came into view. Her

husband would most like be dead before the rock left his hand.

Unless she aided him by distracting the old woman. The sudden thought had Annella quickly shifting to crouch on the balls

of her feet and waddling back to his side. She managed the chore without raising any part of her body above the cover of their

boulder, but the effort cost her. While she was only using her feet to move, she must have automatically clenched the muscles

in her upper body as she went, because her shoulder wound screamed its protest at her for the movement.

"What are ye doin', lass?" Graeme growl-whispered.

"I'm goin' to distract her so that ye can hit her with yer rock," she gasped, and then took a deep breath to try to ease the

pain roaring through her before giving it up and calling out, "I ken ye're angry at Graeme fer tossin' ye out o' the castle,

but why shoot arrows at me?"

"I hate ye," Lady Eschina snapped. "Ye were such a poor wife ye sent me son runnin' off to his death. I'll ne'er forgive ye

fer that."

Annella rolled her eyes. She hadn't been a wife to William at all. She hadn't been given the chance to be one. The moment

their family and friends had left the chamber after seeing them both abed, William had kissed her forehead, said it had been

a long day, she should rest, and then had cut his hand with his knife. Once the blood bubbled to the surface, he'd pulled

back the furs on the bed, wiped the blood on the bed linen, and then had dressed quickly and slipped out through the secret

panel in their room... never to return. All told, they couldn't have been alone in the room for more than five minutes

before he'd left, and it had only been that long because he'd had trouble finding where the men had tossed one of his boots

as they'd disrobed him.

She didn't bother explaining that to Eschina. Annella had already told the woman that at least a dozen times in the days after the wedding and William's defection. Then Eschina had changed her insults, declaring she'd been too ugly for him to be able to bear her in his bed so he had fled. She'd realized then that there was no winning with the woman. Lady Eschina would forever blame her for William's leaving. Realizing that, Annella had done the only thing she could: she'd ignored the old woman's barbs and insults and simply smiled and gone about her business, acting as if they didn't trouble her. The truth was though that every barb had found its mark, and she had been relieved when the verbal assaults stopped.

"Is that why ye poisoned both our drinks?" Annella called out, purely because she wanted to know for sure it had been her.

"Oh, I did no' do that," Eschina said with amusement.

Annella could sense Graeme's gaze moving to her with uncertainty, and then his mother finished, "Me maid, Agnes, did. I surely

would ha'e drawn attention in the great hall after me own son so publicly cast me out and sent me down to live in a cottage

like a peasant," she said bitterly. "But I knew that as a servant, Agnes would not draw attention. And I was right. Agnes

was able to fetch the ale and mead, dose them and set them on the table without anyone even noticing."

Annella's mouth tightened at this happy claim, but simply called out, "And the fire in our bedchamber? Was that Agnes too?"

"Oh, nay. That was me," Eschina assured her with pleasure. "I did no' need Agnes fer that. I simply used the secret tunnels

to get to yer room. I intended to wait there in the passage until ye were both asleep and then slip in, pour the uisge beatha

on the bed and set ye both alight." Her voice sounded positively dreamy as she admitted that, but it quickly turned annoyed

as she added, "But rather than retire as I'd expected, Graeme headed for the secret passage where I was waitin' in the dark."

Bitterness lacing her voice, Eschina told her, "He always was a difficult boy. Verra contrary. Tell him to do somethin' and

it would never get done. Tell him he couldn't accomplish somethin', and he'd work like a demon to prove ye wrong."

Eschina made a sound of disgust. "Instead o' settin' ye alight in the bed ye shared, I had to knock him out when he stepped

into the passage and drag him back into the room. O' course, there was no way I could heft him up onto the bed on me own.

So, in the end I had to leave him on the floor next to the bed. That's why I started a fire around the bed rather than on

it. I was afraid yer screams as ye burned would wake him, givin' him the chance to escape. With the fire encirclin' the two

o' ye except where the wall was, I was sure ye'd both die. But nay, ye woke up and managed to get half the fire put out ere

the men came to help ye."

She clucked her tongue with irritation. "Ye're provin' to be just as difficult as me son."

Her mother-in-law obviously meant that as an insult. But Annella didn't see it that way. She liked, admired and respected

Graeme, and was proud to be considered like him.

"What about the merlon?" he called now, and Annella glanced at him with surprise. When she hadn't heard him make mention of

the grooves in the mortar showing that someone had loosened the stone that had nearly seen both brothers dead, she'd begun

to think she'd misunderstood what she'd seen. That the grooves were some naturally occur—

"What about the merlon?" There was no doubting the confusion in Eschina's voice as she echoed his question.

"There were signs someone had chiseled away at the mortar, loosening the merlon to make it fall," Graeme said tightly.

"Really?" She sounded amused now. "Well, that's naught to do with me. I've been nowhere near the battlements in years." She

paused briefly and then said, "I had Agnes poison yer drinks tryin' to kill ye, I set yer room ablaze in an effort to see

ye dead, and now I'm just goin' to shoot ye. They say third time's the charm. Let us hope that old sayin' is true."

Eschina added the last line in a grim undertone Annella wasn't sure they were supposed to hear. But she was more concerned

with the woman's claim that she hadn't been responsible for the merlon falling and nearly crushing Graeme. Frowning, she glanced

toward her husband just in time to see his muscles bunch as he started to straighten, rock in hand. Cursing under her breath,

she quickly pushed up with her legs, popping into view even as Graeme did.

Annella wasn't surprised that the abrupt movement caused pain to radiate through her shoulder, but she had little time to

worry over that. As she'd expected, Eschina had her arrow nocked and ready. However, she had been waiting with it aimed at

a spot that was presently between where she and Graeme stood. But Eschina didn't hesitate more than a heartbeat before making

her decision and turning the arrow on Annella.

Apparently, her mother-in-law hated her more than Graeme, Annella thought and knew her husband could not possibly throw his rock before Eschina loosed her arrow. Realizing it was up to her to save herself, Annella did the first thing she thought of and simply dropped to sit on her butt behind the cover of the boulder. She hit the ground hard and fast, sending a jolt through her body that immediately had agony roaring through her shoulder and radiating outward.

Annella gasped at the pain, the hand of her uninjured arm instinctively reaching up toward the arrow. Fortunately, she caught

herself before the bandaged paw touched it and caused her more pain. Forcing her hand down, she glanced worriedly to her husband,

but stilled with concern when she saw that Graeme was frozen, the hand holding the rock only half raised. Worried, she immediately

shifted her gaze to his chest, afraid she would find an arrow protruding from him, but there wasn't.

"Thank ye."

Those words from Graeme had her lifting her gaze back to his face. He wasn't talking to her. He was looking beyond the boulder.

Moving carefully, Annella shifted her legs beneath herself again and lifted herself enough to poke her head above the boulder.

Her eyes widened when she didn't see Lady Eschina. Instead, Dauid was crossing the clearing. When he stopped and knelt out

of sight in the spot where Eschina had been standing earlier, Annella struggled to her feet.

Once fully upright, she was able to see Eschina lying on her side on the ground, bow still in hand, though the arrow was nowhere to be seen. There was, however, another weapon visible, a knife that was presently hilt deep in one side of her neck, with the tip protruding out the other.

"Who—?" she began with confusion. Sure Dauid couldn't be the owner of the knife, she glanced around the clearing in search

of Symon or Teague or even her brother, because Annella was positive there was no way someone as clumsy as her brother-in-law

could—

"Mother taught us all how to throw knives too," Graeme told her. "Dauid was always verra good with a knife."

Annella's eyebrows rose slightly, and she shifted her gaze back to her mother-in-law just in time to see Dauid pull the knife

from her neck. The woman didn't moan or move. Annella was pretty sure she was dead, but started to move around her husband,

intending to go check on her. Graeme's hand on her arm stopped her.

"Ye're swayin' on yer feet, love," he said with concern.

Surprised by the words, she started to shake her head, but paused at once when the movement made her a little dizzy. In the

next moment, Graeme had scooped her into his arms and was walking around the boulder, heading for his horse.

"Is Nellie all right?"

Dauid's voice pierced through the faint fog that had descended over her mind, and Annella scowled. She hated that nickname.

"There's an arrow in her shoulder!" Dauid exclaimed with alarm. "We should pull it out."

"No' till we get her back to the castle," Graeme said at once.

"But—"

"She could die if we try it here. We need to get her back to the keep. Symon is handy with wounds. Now here, take her and

lift her up to me once I'm on me mount."

That made Annella's eyes open and she saw with surprise that they'd already crossed the clearing and reached his horse. Her

gaze shifted to Dauid as Graeme set her in his brother's arms, but for once, Dauid wasn't looking at her. At least not her

face; his gaze was on her breasts, which were still on full display above her gaping gown. She wasn't the only one to notice.

Cursing, Graeme tugged up her neckline and quickly pulled her lacings tight and then tied them for her. Annella was grateful.

Tying them herself would have been impossible with the state of her bandaged hands.

"Pass her up to me."

Annella opened eyes she hadn't realized she'd closed to see that Graeme was mounted now. When had he done that? She wondered over it as she was lifted, and Graeme bent in the saddle to slip his arms under her and haul her the rest of

the way up and onto his lap. He moved slowly and most carefully, and still the small jostling that couldn't be helped made

her moan in pain.

"Sorry, love," Graeme said, sounding almost as if her pain pained him.

"Wait, I'll fetch yer plaid and sword fer ye," Dauid said, and she heard a rustling that suggested he'd hurried away.

"Nay, bring them back yerself, along with Mother," Graeme ordered as he arranged Annella more securely in his lap and reached for the reins of his mount.

"Nay. Ye'll need yer sword to defend Nellie should bandits attack ye on yer way back to the castle," Dauid argued firmly,

his voice drawing nearer. She guessed that meant he was already returning with the items. That being the case, Annella wasn't

surprised when she felt movement as Graeme apparently took the plaid and sword from his brother. She heard the soft hiss of

his sword being sheathed, and then felt the weight of his plaid covering her legs and stomach. He didn't try to cover her

any higher than that, probably to avoid the possibility of unintentionally nudging the arrow in her shoulder, she supposed.

"I'll find Mother's horse and then bring her and her mare back to the castle."

Dauid's voice pushed away some of the sleepiness that had been creeping over her, and Annella opened her eyes with alarm.

"Is she no' dead?"

"Aye, she's dead, love. Ye're safe now," Graeme assured her solemnly, and then shifted his gaze away from her to what she

assumed was Dauid, though she couldn't presently see him. She was facing the opposite direction in Graeme's arms, with her

back to where Dauid would be standing. Still, it must have been the younger man, she concluded when Graeme said, "Thank ye

fer that, brother. I owe ye me life."

"She was goin' to shoot Nellie with her bow. I could no' allow that."

She really hated the name Nellie, Annella thought with irritation, and then Graeme urged his horse to move out of the clearing. She bit back a moan and stiffened in pain at the jostling it caused. But there was worse to come when they reached the path. Eager to get her back to the castle and the help that awaited them there, Graeme immediately spurred his mount to a faster pace, first a trot, then a canter, and finally a gallop that caused enough agony that she quickly sank into unconsciousness to escape it.