Chapter 16

Chapter

Sixteen

“Mistress Macnab

just told me the news.” With a look of concern the queen rushed

into Lindsey’s sleeping chamber, followed by her dour husband, who

for once seemed as animated as his wife. “Has she awakened

yet?”

“Aye.” In deference to his monarch, Jamie

scrambled from the chair beside Lindsey’s bed and got to his

feet.

“Sit, my friend.” Mary came around the bed

and touched a hand to his shoulder. Taking a long look at him she

added, “You look more like the victim of an attack than the

lass.”

At that Jamie managed to grin. “It is that

bad?”

“Aye.”

He ran a hand over the stubble on his chin.

His eyes felt as if sand had been rubbed into them. “She put in a

fearful night.”

“Does she know where she is?”

“At times. At other times she fights her

demons.”

“Mistress Macnab complains that you will not

allow her to aid you.”

“She is needed elsewhere. Lindsey is my

responsibility.”

Mary turned her gaze fully upon him. Her tone

was so low it seemed almost reverent. “So that is the way of

it?”

“Aye.” He stared at the figure lying so still

in the bed. A look of tenderness softened all his features. “And I

had to nearly lose her before I would admit it.”

“I hope she is worthy of such feelings.” The

queen squeezed his hand before turning toward the door. “I will

instruct Mistress Macnab to see that all your meals are brought to

you here.”

“Thank you, Majesty.”

She gave him a wan smile. “Nay. I thank you,

Jamie MacDonald. For restoring my faith in man.”

When the door closed behind Mary and Lord

Darnley, Jamie sank gratefully into the chair. Within minutes he

was dozing.

* * *

Lindsey felt the bile rise up in her throat

as the unknown terror seized her once more. She saw the hooded man,

so tall, so menacing, moving toward her. In his hand was a sword.

She stared in horrified fascination as the blade caught and

reflected the light of the sconces that adorned the walls of the

fortress.

“You must not—” her voice was little more

than a whisper “—do this.”

The man laughed, a cruel, chilling laugh, and

strode closer.

She did not scream, for he had already warned

her that no servants would come to her defense. They were his

servants, after all, and he was her father’s avowed enemy.

“I will not have to kill Douglas Gordon,”

came the man’s booming voice. “The knowledge of what I have done to

his beloved little lass will be revenge enough. Such knowledge will

eat at his soul until he loses the will to live. And I will have

won the sweetest victory of all. I will have destroyed the noble

Douglas Gordon. Without his leadership, his fertile lands will be

mine. And his people will be my slaves. Now, lass, come here to

me.”

Lindsey continued to stare at the glittering

blade, her young mind in turmoil. If she allowed this monster to do

what he threatened, his words would be prophetic. It would surely

break her father’s heart.

What would it be like to die? She was too

young to even imagine such a thing. But this she knew, despite her

youth, despite her innocence. She must choose death over dishonor.

Her father’s bitterest enemy, Neville Sinclair, must not be allowed

to sully her.

“I have been patient long enough,” he said

through gritted teeth. “Come here, child.”

“Nay.”

Lindsey turned and began to run from him. But

there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. The doors to his chamber

were barred. In a state of panic she ran to the balcony, then

skidded to an abrupt halt. Trapped. She was trapped. She turned.

Neville Sinclair stood barring her way. The only escape now was

death.

Without hesitation she climbed onto the wide

ledge that ringed the balcony. For as far as the eye could see,

there were the green, rolling hills of Sinclair land. Directly

below the balcony was a courtyard where several horses were

tethered. It was such a long way down.

Out of the corner of her eye Lindsey saw the

man racing across the balcony toward her. She inched her way to the

very edge of the ledge. There would be no second chance. If he

caught her, he was strong enough to drag her back.

She was suddenly seized with a feeling of

peace. She had chosen the right path. She was certain of it.

Without a word she leaned forward and felt

herself falling through space. Above her the man’s voice was a cry

of rage at the child who had denied him his chance for vengeance.

Below her the courtyard loomed, the animals shifting nervously as

she fell.

She awoke to the sound of a voice weeping.

Her voice. She was bathed in sweat. Strong arms cradled her against

a solid wall of chest. For long minutes she clung to the gentle

giant who held and comforted her.

Safe. Though she knew not why, she felt safe

with Jamie MacDonald.

Slowly the fear drained from her. Jamie could

feel her gradually relax against him as the tension was

released.

“It was all a terrible dream,” she said

aloud, her voice trembling.

Jamie had heard too much to be fooled. The

terrors she had relived in her mind had been too real.

“Have you had this dream often, my lady?”

“Aye. For many years.”

“Do you wish to talk about it?”

She shivered and he drew her closer and

pressed his lips to her temple.

“How much did I reveal?”

“Enough.” He chose his words carefully.

“Enough to know that you were a very brave lass.”

He felt the shudders that racked her. “I was

but a child. Still, the fear of that time lingers. And so many

things seem to cause the memory to flood my mind.”

“I think you must exorcise this horror from

your memory. Perhaps, by talking about it, the bad dreams will

end.”

Lindsey wrapped her arms around him, holding

on as if she would fall. With her lips against his throat she

whispered, “I have never spoken of it.”

“Not even to your family?”

“Only once to my father and mother. We made a

pact to never speak of it again. My mother warned me that my father

could not bear the pain of that awful time.”

She grew silent and clung to him.

Jamie realized it was up to him to open the

floodgates, else the moment would pass and she would lock her fears

away again. “I have surmised most of it, Lindsey. You were abducted

by your father’s enemy.”

“Aye. Neville Sinclair.”

She shivered again as she mentioned his name,

and Jamie heard the way her voice shook.

“He carried me off to his castle and took me

to his chambers. There he told me what he intended to do to

me.”

“How old were you?”

“Eight years,” she said softly. “Not old

enough to understand everything, but old enough to know that his

intentions were evil.” She began to cry, softly now, as the

memories returned.

“But you thwarted him.”

“Aye. I chose to jump to my death rather than

submit.”

He gathered her closer. “And you thwarted

even death.”

“Aye.” He could hear the tears in her voice.

“My father and his clan arrived in time to see me leap from the

balcony. Father was certain I would die. He said his heart stopped.

But though I suffered painful injuries, I lived.”

“That is why you sometimes limp.”

She nodded and wiped the tears, but they

started afresh. “I shattered my leg. It mended, but imperfectly.

Each time I limped, I would see the pain in my father’s eyes, and

so I had to learn to walk in such a way that my father would not

suffer:”

Now Jamie understood why Douglas Gordon kept

his daughter so close. And he understood Lindsey’s determination to

return to her overprotective father, despite the dangers and

difficulties of such an undertaking.

“My father’s suffering was greater than

mine,” she said simply, “for I was young, and my wounds healed

quickly. But the wounds in my father’s heart have never

healed.”

“You taught yourself to walk without a limp

in order to spare your father any further suffering.”

“Aye. It was not easy, but it was necessary.

It required great discipline.”

“What an amazing woman you are.”

Lindsey pushed herself away to stare at him.

Tears still filled her eyes. “I am a coward. Did you not see? I

still fight this man in my dreams. And I still weep like a child

whenever I am reminded of that time.”

“Aye, my fiery little Lindsey. You do indeed

fight your demons. But at least you fight; you do not surrender to

the fear. And as for your weeping...” He lifted her face and his

thumbs to the corners of her eyes. “It is not only children who

cry, my lady. If anything should happen to you, I would be racked

with tears.”

He brushed his lips over each of her eyelids.

It was the sweetest of kisses, and she felt her heart leap to her

throat.

This rough, terrifying giant, known

throughout her land as heartless, caused her to feel things no

other man ever had.

Or would.

“Now,” he whispered against her temple, “you

must rest and heal your mind as well as your body.”

“You will not leave me?”

“Nay, my lady. You will never again be

alone.”

He pressed her down against the pillows and

drew the linens snugly around her. She caught his hand and pressed

a kiss to it, and he felt the flare of heat.

“You will lie here beside me, my lord?”

“Nay, my lady.” He thought of the desire he

felt each time he touched her. It would not be at all safe to lie

beside her. “I will remain here in your chambers and see that you

are not alone.”

“The dream will come again. I know it. And I

am so weary of the fight. Please, my lord. Lie beside me.”

How could he refuse? “Aye, my lady.”

He drew her into the circle of his arms and

closed his eyes. If indeed there was a heaven, he had already found

it.

* * *

Lindsey awoke with a start. As her lids

lifted she could make out the image of a haggard, unshaven Jamie

beside her. They were lying in each other’s arms, in a most

intimate embrace.

Feeling suddenly ashamed, she struggled to

push herself free of his grasp. His arms tightened around her.

“Are you awake?” she whispered.

“Nay,” came his whispered reply. “I must be

dreaming. Else how can you explain how we happen to be sleeping

together?”

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.