“Maybe wrong, and maybe right,” he said sarcastically.
Her eyes filled with tears, and Jamie was instantly remorseful. He shouldn’t have been so hurt by her mentioning Ailis Mackintosh. She had been trusting enough to confide in him, and he had done just what he had sworn he wouldn’t do.
“Och, Sheena, ’tis a brute I am, and no mistake. Ofcoursethe stories were wrong. I’ve never taken a woman who didna want it so. As for mayhem, well mayhem can at times be unavoidable. And murder? I’ll no’ deny I’ve killed men in battle. I’ve even sentenced one of my own kin to death, one who was deserving of that justice. But I’ve never murdered for the sake of killing, Sheena. No killing is to my liking, but what Scot hasna killed or wounded another in his lifetime? Is your father innocent of fightingand killing? Will your brother still be innocent of it ’afore long? Will you blame me for a life I canna change? For doing what I must do?”
He waited. He waited a long time. Finally she whispered, “I won’t.”
Jamie smiled, relieved greatly. “Then let me put your mind at rest about one thing more, sweetheart. You were right in thinking I never even touched my first wife. The wedding was arranged by our fathers. I had never seen Ailis Mackintosh ’afore we were joined in marriage. Nor did anyone warn me that she was a weak, fanciful lass, and utterly terrified of men—no’ just me, Sheena, but all men, including her own father. She was dead ’afore I came to her that awful night. Her serving lass later confessed the poor thing’s fear of men and that she was forced into our marriage and had sworn she would kill herself ’afore she’d let a man touch her. Her father apparently didna believe she would, and hadn’t told me of the threat. He still didna accept it and blamed me and my family for her death. We’ve been enemies with the Mackintosh clan ever since.”
“So that is why you swore you’d never marry a lass unless you’d tried her first?”
“Do you blame me? ’Twas horrible what Ailis did, a bitter shock. Any lass who looked at me in fear after that I stayed well away from. Is it any wonder your fear upset me so? You I couldna stay away from, as much as I sometimes wanted to. It didna help to know it was only me you feared, and not men in general.”
“Och, well, you know why now.”
“Aye. A foolish reason,” he said.
“I didna think so.”
He grinned down at her, his eyes reflecting amusement. “Even when I kissed you and you enjoyed it?”
“I didna enjoy it!” she protested.
Jamie chuckled. “A liar to the end, eh? Well, let us see if you’ll admit now to enjoying my kissing.”
And he kissed her. And she did enjoy it. And what followed was as lovely as could be imagined. Their guests were forgotten for a good while longer.
Chapter 30
Jamie closed the door to his chamber, then pulled Sheena to his side, his hand resting possessively on her waist. Their eyes met, and Jamie smiled warmly. Sheena smiled back, and the smile stayed on her lips as they walked down the corridor.
Sheena was happy, truly happy for the first time in a very long time. And Jamie? He had laughed in delight when she put her lovely gown back on and blushed to find it so full of wrinkles from lying where they had left it. Everyone would know what they had been about. How could she dare return to the hall?
But she had seen the humor, too. What did it matter? They had been gone so long, everyone would know anyway. Either right then or in the morning, she would have to face their knowing. And Jamie was strutting so proudly, like a cock just come in from the henshed.
They passed the room where Sheena had stayed those last few days under guard. But even that couldn’t put a damper on her mood. How frightened she had been, and all for nothing. Jamie would never hurt her. And now she could be herself again, without performing, without always being on her guard. She wondered how Jamie would like the real Sheena Fergusson.
They approached the hall, but Jamie slowed suddenly, and Sheena looked up to find him frowning. Then she realized why. The hall was quiet, eerily so. Had everyone gone? Why?
“Jamie—” she started to ask, but he shushed her, and they continued down the stairs.
Confusion doubled when they entered the hall and found it not deserted at all. It was just as crowded as it had been. Yet the silence was oppressive. Most of the people were standing, and there was such a solemn look on every face that she felt prickles of unexplainable fear up her spine.
She didn’t want to go into that large room at all, but Jamie forced her with him to the middle of the two trestle tables, where everyone’s attention was centered. Her father was there, as were dozens of Fergussons, all standing beside and behind him. Black Gawain was there, and Colen, and many more MacKinnions than Fergussons.
Sweet Mary, they’re going to fight, she realized. But Jamie would stop it, Thank God they’d come in when they had! Why? What could possibly have happened to set the clans against each other again?
The reason lay at Black Gawain’s feet, and Sheena paled on seeing that it was Iain Fergusson, her cousin. Blood spread across his chest, making it impossible to tell exactly where he had been wounded. But wounded he was, and unconscious—or dead. Dear God, not Iain. Such a kind man, so sensitive. He cared nothing for fighting or raiding—only for his animals. How many times had she and Niall spent whole days with Iain, learning habits of wild creatures, laughing over the antics of a beaver, awed by his great shaggy aurochs?
The noise started all at once, the accusations, denials, anger. No one was making any sense, and it only got louder and louder, not clearer. Everyone shouting at the same time made Sheena ready to scream. But the figure of Jamie leaning down to examine Iain was more effective than any call for order could have been. He was probably the first to see if Iain was still alive.
Jamie stood up at last, utter disgust on his face. “What madness is this?” he demanded. “You stand here glaring and shouting at each other while a man bleeds to death!”
“Is he dead, then?” Colen was the one to ask.
“Without tending, he will be ’afore long.”
Colen nodded and gestured to men to carry Iain to the hearth. Water would be heated there to clean his wound. But Dugald delayed that, obstinately instructing his own men to care for Iain.
