Chapter 19
One of Crowley’s men, dagger in hand, ran to intercept Laura, but suddenly an arrow flew from the trees and thudded into his chest. He staggered for a few steps, screaming, before he fell down, dead before he hit the ground.
The others who were standing around him yelled and tried to flee, but they were picked off quickly before they had taken more than a few steps.
Some were hit by arrows, but the ones who resisted with swords and dirks were hewn down by heavily armed Cairnlochan men.
Crowley had scurried away as soon as he saw the first victim falling, his survival instinct having been honed to a fine point by his many escapades.
He ran into the cover of the trees and dove into a thorny bush, watching as his men were hewn down.
He felt no sympathy for them: they had been paid to escort him, and if they died doing their duty—well, that was a soldier’s lot.
But he was furious that once more Charlotte had escaped. She was his—she belonged to him, and no other man was going to possess her while he was alive to stop him.
‘Kenneth Grant, you are a dead man!’ he vowed, before he scuttled away.
Yet it was not Kenneth who had been in command of the warriors who had ambushed Crowley’s gang. As the last man fell, Eleanor and Fenella came riding out of the trees, both of them holding pistols, looking for Crowley.
As soon as they dismounted, both marched over to where Nicholas lay with Laura and Charlotte bending over him. Laura was tearing a strip from the hem of her dress to use as a bandage for the bullet wound in his shoulder, and tears were streaming down her cheeks as she worked.
“Don’t leave me, Nick,” she begged. “Not when I have just found you!”
“Let me,” Fenella knelt down beside him and took the cloth from Laura’s hand and folded it over and over till it formed a thick pad which she pressed against the injury to stem the bleeding.
Eleanor tore a strip from her own dress and they wound it around Nicholas’s shoulder to keep the wadding in place.
The two women had worked in silence while Charlotte took Laura in her arms and held her tightly to comfort her, murmuring soothing words.
“He is young and strong, Laura,” she said gently. “ I know him, and I have seen him hurt before. He will recover, but we must get him back to the castle.”
Laura nodded and tried to break free from Charlotte, but she held on.
“Wait.” Her tone was firm. “Let them tend to him for a moment, Laura. Aunt Eleanor spent some time training as a nurse, and Fenella has helped to patch up many a wounded soldier from the garrison.” She paused for a moment, then asked gently, “You love him, don’t you? ”
“With all my heart,” Laura replied. “There is no one else for me, Lottie. I have to tell him.”
“He loves you too, Laura,” Charlotte told her. “I know you did not part on good terms, but I know he feels the same for you. Be strong, Laura. I know how you feel, I thought I was going to lose Kenneth too, but we are still here.”
She loosened her hold and Laura gave her a grateful smile before going to kneel down beside Nicholas. He was lying so still that for a moment Laura feared the worst, then he let out a long groan and she breathed a deep sigh of relief.
“His heart is beating strongly,” Eleanor said soothingly, “and he is very fit, Laura. The bleeding is under control. We have to get back as fast as we can, though.”
At that moment she looked up as they heard the sound of men’s voices and the rattle of weapons, and the next moment Kenneth appeared with a score of his men behind him.
He took in the situation at a glance, then looked across at where Nicholas lay. Quickly, with only a few words, he organised their journey back to the castle. This was not Kenneth the husband, or Kenneth the Laird, but Kenneth the warrior.
The only emotion he showed was when he went to embrace Charlotte with a heartfelt sigh and a soft kiss on the cheek, and an anxious look at Nicholas as they loaded him onto a cart, before he said grimly, “We will talk back at the castle. Hurry!”
“What in God’s name were you thinking?” Kenneth demanded as he glared at Charlotte and the aunties.
“You should never have gone out unaccompanied! You know how dangerous Crowley and his men are! And Lottie, in your condition, what would I do if anything happened to you?” His face suddenly took on a look of deep anguish, and Charlotte moved to comfort him at once as she stepped into his arms and kissed him tenderly on the lips.
“We are all safe and well, Kenny,” she said soothingly, and although she was still quivering inside, she was doing her best to stay calm in front of the others.
They were standing in the outer part of the sick room waiting for the healer to come and tell them how Nicholas was faring.
He had been rushed into the chamber as soon as they arrived back, but now the healer and her assistant were treating him, and they had all been instructed to stand outside and wait.
Laura was pacing up and down, utterly distraught, despite Eleanor and Fenella’s best efforts to comfort her.
“This is all my fault!” she said, weeping as she pushed Fenella away. “If I had not been so stupid—” She broke off suddenly as the door opened and the tall, sturdy healer came out. Laura rushed to her side at once.
“How is he?” she asked fearfully.
“He is still unconscious, m’Lady,” the woman replied, “but I have taken out the bullet, cleaned and bandaged the wound, an’ I have given him some milk o’ the poppy tae help him sleep an’ kill any pain.
” She looked at Kenneth. “M’Laird, as long as there is nae infection I think he will be fine, but it might take him a wee while tae get better.
Ye will need another Captain for the next few weeks. ”
“Thank you, Nessa,” Kenneth answered, with a relieved smile. He looked and felt exhausted. Replacing Nicholas Munro, even for a short while, would be nigh on impossible, he knew—he was the best man there was.
Laura pushed past the healer into the room where Nicholas lay. He was motionless but breathing steadily, and looked much better now that he had been cleaned up and a proper bandage had been applied to cover his injury.
Laura sat down by his bed as the others came in and took his hand in hers, marvelling at how big and rough it was. His face was peaceful, but very pale, and there was a small scratch on his cheekbone, but it did not seem too serious.
Eleanor, Fenella, Charlotte and Kenneth stood around the bed, all of them looking at the man who was so uncharacteristically immobile, but was normally so energetic and active.
“It doesn’t seem possible that he can lie so still,” Eleanor said sadly, shaking her head. “I hope he wakes up well and healthy again—this is not our Nick at all.” She looked across at her friend, but Fenella smiled.
“Our Nick is made of stern stuff, Ellie,” she declared. “He will come through this, and he will probably look back and laugh at it. You know what he is like.”
Nevertheless, she could not hide her anxiety as she went to sit beside Laura, putting an arm around her shoulders.
“And you have given him an even stronger reason to live, my dear. He loves you. I have known him for a long time, and I have never seen him being as tender and caring with any other woman as he is with you.”
“We parted on very bad terms,” Laura told her, and as she looked at Nicholas’s face, her heart ached with both love and sadness. She remembered the expression of derision and disgust it had worn the last time she saw him, and their exchange of harsh words.
The regret would haunt her for the rest of her life if those turned out to be the last words they spoke to each other. She only just managed to stop herself from weeping again.
“Let him rest now,” Kenneth said, his tone firm but gentle. “I will ask Nessa to stay with him. She is very conscientious.”
“I will stay with him,” Laura said at once, her tone resolute. “I will not leave his side, please allow me this.”
Kenneth hesitated, then nodded. “Very well. I will tell Nessa.” He looked at the others. “I think we all need a drink and some sustenance.”
“Indeed we do.” Charlotte smiled at him, and put a hand on her still-flat tummy. “We both do.” There was such love in her eyes that Laura could hardly bear to look at them as Kenneth smiled back and kissed her.
The two aunties hugged Laura before they left. “Call us if you need us, Laura,” Fenella said tenderly as she kissed Laura’s cheek. “And don’t worry, he is a strong man.”
Laura was touched; despite their waywardness, the two friends were among the kindest people she had ever met. When the door closed behind them, she turned her eyes to Nicholas again.
“Don’t leave me, Nick,” she whispered. “Let me tell you I love you before we part again. I know you despise me, but I must tell you how I feel.”
As if he had heard her, Nicholas gave a little sigh and his face twitched, and Laura’s heart skipped a beat as she thought he might wake up, but a moment later he was still again and she sighed, swallowing her disappointment.
Laura stayed with him for hours, but she was exhausted, and dozed intermittently, waking only when the healer came to check on Nicholas.
She woke again when Kenneth entered; he immediately went to Nicholas and looked into his face anxiously. “Has he woken up at all?” he asked.
Laura shook her head. “Not once,” she replied sadly.
Kenneth frowned as he looked at her. “You look tired,” he observed.
“I want to stay with him even if I have to sleep in this chair,” Laura said, her voice firm and determined, then she realised that she might no longer be welcome in the castle. “At least until I know he is well. May I?”
Kenneth shifted his gaze back to Nicholas. “Aye, but when he wakes, he must decide for himself if he wishes you to remain with him.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“I will have some food sent to you,” he said. “Please let me know if there is a change in his condition. Look after yourself, lass. Lottie is worried about you.”
“I am quite well, but thank Lottie for her concern.” She smiled at Kenneth, and he gave her a polite nod and left.
Laura turned back to look at Nicholas, who seemed unusually young and very vulnerable in his unconscious state, and wondered if she would ever see those gorgeous green eyes gazing into hers again.
Despite the healer’s assurances that he would recover, she was still desperately worried.
She studied the length of his strong, muscular body, trying desperately to reassure herself.
Surely a man who looked like this could not be felled by a single wound?
Laura spent the next few hours silently watching and worrying, then fell asleep in her chair and slept fitfully until dawn broke the next morning.
When she woke, she saw that Nicholas was no longer lying on his back, but had shifted onto his uninjured side and was facing away from her. Her heart skipped a beat.
“Nick?” she asked, her voice trembling. She jumped to her feet and moved around the bed so that she was facing him. His eyes were closed, but as she knelt down by the bedside they fluttered open and Laura breathed a deep sigh of relief as she looked into their dark green depths.
“Thank God,” she whispered fervently. “How do you feel?”
Nicholas frowned, and there was a long pause before he answered. “Why are you still here?” His voice was hoarse with disuse, and he looked puzzled as he stared at her.
“I-I wanted to make sure you were still alive,” Laura answered.
“You were in such a bad way when you were brought back I was afraid that you might die.” She gazed at him for another moment, hoping to see some gratitude or tenderness in his face, but there was nothing, and her heart sank into a well of crushing disappointment and misery.
Laura had wanted to tell Nicholas how much she loved him but found that she could not manage to say the words.
Instead, she gathered all the shreds of her dignity together, tilted her chin, and said stiffly, “It seems you are fine, so I can go. Goodbye, Nick. Have a good life, and look after Andrew.” She stood up and was about to move away, but he winced and let out a hiss of pain.
Laura gasped and immediately moved to summon the healer, but Nicholas caught her wrist with surprising strength. “Don’t go,” he begged. “It hurts—”
“Where?” Laura asked fearfully. “Where does it hurt, Nick?” She bent over him and looked deeply into his face.
Then he did the last thing Laura had expected; he smiled, the familiar, teasing smile she knew so well. “My lips,” he answered. “My lips hurt, and I need you to kiss them better.”
Now Laura knew that all was well. In spite of his injury and obvious discomfort, his sense of humour was still the same: naughty, mischievous and utterly irreverent.
Laura felt tears spring to her eyes as she bent down to press her mouth to his with infinite gentleness, cupping his face in her hands as she did so and feeling the rasp of his bristles against her palms.
When she drew away, Nicholas smiled at her tenderly. “I never told you how much I love you,” he said huskily. “I thought I would never get the chance.”
Laura let the tears of joy in her eyes run down her cheeks as she answered. “I love you too, Nick, but I thought you hated me.”
“I was foolish to even believe for a moment what Crowley said.” He stroked Laura’s cheek with the back of his hand as he spoke, his expression one of deep regret. “I am so sorry, Laura.”
“I will only accept your apology if you kiss me again,” Laura replied in a tone of mock sternness.
Nicholas laughed, and did so, tenderly and sweetly. “And just to be sure that I am properly repentant I would love to make you my wife,” he said.
Laura was surprised to see a little anxiety in his eyes, as if he thought she might refuse.
“And I would love to be your wife,” she murmured, and kissed him again.