Chapter Twelve #2
While he didn’t smile, the way his eyes danced and crinkled at the corners showed he was not out of sorts with her.
“Ye were not a shrew,” he said as he slathered a bit of jam onto his bread.
“’Tis not yer fault how ye feel that bastard is always breathing down yer neck.
” With a sheepish tilt to his head, he added, “Beg pardon for the coarseness of my words.” He shoved the crust of bread into his mouth, then washed it down with a drink.
After a glance around the table, he turned toward her and lowered his voice even more.
“That terrible night haunts ye, and ye have every right to feel the way ye do.”
He understood. Duncan understood. That trapped feeling that made her chest all tense and achy eased. It didn’t leave her completely, but she knew with time, and Duncan’s understanding, it would. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what, lass?”
“Understanding.”
He studied her for a long moment, his rich brown eyes filled with myriad shadows. “After supper, perhaps we could walk to the stable and check on the horses. Give ye a chance to stretch away yer weariness from the carriage ride before ye sleep for the evening.”
“I would love that.” She turned to her sister. “And seeing as how we are traveling to Gretna Green for my wedding, I believe a chaperone is no longer necessary. Do you not agree, Seri?”
Serendipity’s expression shouted that she most certainly did not agree, but the denial never came. Instead, she gracefully bowed her head. “Just remember, you will not have a choice which side of the bed you get, and I will have all the covers if you overly delay your return to our room.”
“I shall bear that in mind.”
They finished their meal and, after a brief visit to their room and the privacy of the curtained-off corner the maids had so artfully created, Merry returned downstairs, her spirits brighter and refreshed.
Duncan helped her with her fur-lined cloak, then offered his arm. “’Tis a brisk night, lass. Are ye certain?”
“Very certain.” Not only did she need exercise and fresh air, but she was thrilled at the prospect of a private stroll with Duncan.
As they stepped outside, the clean, crisp breeze kissed her cheeks, making her lift her face to greet it.
She inhaled deeply, ridding herself of the inn’s stale aroma of weary, unwashed travelers, spilled ale, and food.
The inky darkness of the clear sky made the stars seem within reach.
“Such a beautiful night. Thank you for this.”
“I thought it might help with the restlessness.” He rested his hand over hers as she held onto his arm. “And also…I wished to ask ye something.”
“What?”
His steps slowed as they neared the stable. “Ye’ve not had a change of heart, have ye?”
“About what?”
“Becoming my wife.”
She turned to him, barring him from moving any farther. “I am more certain of that than anything. You and I…” A rush of emotions made it hard to speak. “I cannot imagine life without you.”
The hesitancy and tenderness in his touch as he brushed his fingers across her cheek made her catch her breath.
“I love ye, my own, and neither can I imagine life without ye.”
Though she knew it to be brazen, she didn’t care. “Might I have a kiss, then, my champion?”
Ever so slowly, he tilted his head and leaned closer, teasing her with his nearness. “Ye may always have a kiss, my love.” The warm softness of his mouth closed over hers, and he tightened his arms around her.
Heart pounding, she gave herself over to every sensation, clinging to him with an urgency that matched his. She could stay like this forever, let the world move around them while she floated along on the joy to be found in his arms.
Then a shot split the air, shattering the night.
Duncan jerked, then grunted and pushed her to the ground as he drew his pistol from his belt and returned fire. “Angus!” His bellow rang out through the clear night. “Angus! Come to me!”
Cowering on the cold, hard ground, Merry started to rise to run for help, but Duncan pushed her down again.
“Stay down till I’ve killed this bastard.”
Another shot rang out, then Angus shouted, “I hit him!”
His breathing ragged, Duncan helped Merry to her feet just as Chance and Malcolm thundered up to them.
“We heard gunfire,” Malcolm said.
Chance caught hold of her. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” So shaken she almost couldn’t stand, she held tight to him. “Duncan pushed me to the ground and made me stay there.” Then she noticed her champion had disappeared into the stable. “In there. Duncan’s man, Angus, said he shot the devil in there.”
“Go inside.” Her brother aimed her toward the inn and gave her a gentle push. “Now. There could be others.” When she didn’t obey, he forcibly walked her a few steps. “Go inside, Merry. Now. We have to check for others and do not need the distraction of watching out for you.”
Even though his words were harsh, good sense told her that he was right.
She stumbled the few steps to the inn, but just as she reached the door, her stomach forced her to halt and empty it of its contents.
A sob escaped her as she leaned against the wall and wiped her mouth, reliving the horror of that first shot.
Duncan had jerked and grunted as though something had hit him with some force.
Was he all right? Had he been shot? If he had, it was all her fault.
She should never have suggested that she wanted to go for a walk. He had done it only to help her.
“He has to be all right,” she whispered, curling against the wall. “He has to be.”
“Lass.”
She jumped and started to flee before realizing it was Malcolm. “Is he all right? Is Duncan all right?”
“Come inside. If I dinna get ye inside and up to yer room, he’ll skin me alive.” Malcolm gently helped her through the door. “Come along now, lass. I know ye’re overwrought. I’ll have a fine whisky sent to yer room. ’Twill help ye sleep.”
She yanked herself free of his hold and shoved him away. “You did not answer me. Is Duncan all right? I demand you tell me.”
“’Tis but a wee scratch. He will be fine. He endured worse than that in the war.”
“You lie! Take me to him. I want to see him.”
She tried to push around him, but he caught her by the shoulders and held her there, leaning down until they stood nose to nose. “Duncan wants ye safe in yer room. I’ll not go against my brother’s wishes.”
“Well, I can.”
“Merry!” Serendipity wrapped an arm around her and pulled. “Come to the room. I am sure Lord Malcolm will let us know when you can see your Duncan. Will you not, Lord Malcolm?”
He nodded, appearing relieved that Serendipity had come to help. “I swear I will, Lady Merry. I swear it.”
“If you do not fetch me to see him within the hour, I shall tear this inn apart board by board until I find him. Do you understand me, Lord Malcolm? Am I quite clear?”
“Malcolm will do as he’s promised, Lady Merry.” Lady Evelyn joined Serendipity in leading her to the stairs. “Come along now, child. Let them do what needs to be done, aye? Ye’re fair overwrought and need a good, strong drink.”
She turned and shouted over her shoulder as they pulled her away, “I mean it, Lord Malcolm! One hour!”
The inn’s dining room fell silent, and everyone stared, but she didn’t care.
“Come along now,” Serendipity shushed her as if she were a fractious toddler. “Lord Malcolm will keep his word.”
“Stop speaking to me as if I were a child!”
“Then behave like the strong woman I know you to be.” Serendipity bumped her with her hip, yanking her along harder. “You must calm yourself. Behaving like a senseless wretch does no one any good, least of all your Duncan.”
They reached the room, finding their three maids staring at them with eyes wide with fear. Lady Evelyn snapped her fingers. “Run down and fetch some tea along with a bottle of their best whisky. I doubt they’ve any decent brandy on the premises.”
The young woman whose name Merry couldn’t recall curtsied and ran out the door. Merry’s maid, Jenny, and Serendipity’s maid, Bess, hovered nearby as though wishing for orders too.
“See if she needs help with the trays,” Serendipity told them.
Both maids shot out the door and closed it softly behind them.
“Now, let’s sit ye down, lass,” Lady Evelyn said as they led Merry to one of the two large beds in the room. “Tell us what happened.”
Merry swallowed hard, unable to rid herself of the horrible sound of the gunfire. “We were right outside the stable. Duncan was afraid I had changed my mind about marrying him, and to convince him I never would, I asked for a kiss.” She didn’t care that she sounded like a brazen hussy.
“And then what?” Serendipity settled down beside her, hugging her close.
“A shot rang out.” Merry closed her eyes and clutched her fist to her chest. “He jerked and grunted, then pushed me down to the ground so I would be safe.” She rocked in place.
“I know he’s hurt. Lord Malcolm even said so, but tried to allay my worries by saying it was nothing more than a scratch.
He said Duncan endured worse in the war.
” She covered her face with her hands. “He cannot die. He simply cannot.”
Lady Evelyn pushed in to sit between her and the bed’s brass footboard, scooting her and Serendipity farther down the bed. “Duncan is strong, lass. I promise ye. My precious boy has not had a peaceful life.”
“But a gunshot wound—”
“He was shot in the war and survived it.” A heavy sigh left the woman who suddenly seemed years older. “And he survived his father’s beatings, which were a great deal worse than any gunshot.”
Knowing all that Duncan had suffered did little to make Merry feel any easier. “I don’t want him to hurt. It’s so unfair.” She clutched her hands in her lap, wringing them. “If I hadn’t mentioned going for a walk…”
“Stop that right now!” Lady Evelyn shook a finger at her. “Ye will not lay the blame for this on your shoulders. I’ll not have it.”