“You’re no’ listening to me, man,” Sheena cried. “I told you Jameson wore my colors, no’ his own. He wanted the blame placed on another clan, and he chose mine. That way, he’s been able to attack MacKinnions repeatedly all these months and hasna suffered once for it. Sweet Mary, do you think I would have hidden inside a burning hut if I had seen my own kin outside that hut? You’re hating the wrong clan for killing your sister, Black Gawain. And that’s the truth.”
“But why?” Gawain cried.
“Because of Libby Jameson,” Jamie said, his voice hoarse. “Libby,” he repeated.
“Aye.” Sheena sighed. Thank the Lord, Jamie had guessed right. “I knew he meant to hurt you, Jamie, through me, when he locked me in his tower.”
“Locked you?”
She grinned. “It was rescuing me you were doing, though you didna know it then. Sir William despises you. He tried to rape me, and when that failed, he lied to you about me. Anything to hurt you, because of his sister.”
“And why did you no’ tell me this ’afore?”
“You didna believe me about his lies, so how could I tell you the rest?”
She was right. There was nothing he could say.
He caught her to him and kissed her hard. “You’ll be here when I return?”
“I’ll be here.”
Black Gawain was already running for his horse.
Chapter 40
In his eagerness to reach William Jameson, Black Gawain was riding far ahead of them. Jamie sympathized, but he knew the hothead would get himself killed if he arrived at Jameson’s tower alone. He tried to catch up with Gawain, leaving Colen and the others to follow as best they could. Jamie almost closed the breach completely when they crossed the river near Sir William’s land. There, as the two men raced up the bank toward a boundary tree, a crossbow stopped them short. Gawain’s horse was pierced, throwing Gawain, who rolled pell-mell down the bank, landing in the river. Jamie’s horse shied and just barely missed trampling Gawain as he passed. But before Jamie could even see where the arrow had come from, he took a quarrel in his chest. He fell, sliding a few feet, then lying still on the ground.
The man in the tree jumped to the ground andwarily approached Jamie’s still form, his crossbow at the ready. Part of a raiding party just returned, the man had been left to watch as a precaution, a precaution no one had taken very seriously. He had thought the task unnecessary. Why, the MacKinnions had never suspected a thing. It was a waste of his time to be left watching.
But there was the great yellow-haired one himself,TheMacKinnion. And he had downed him! There was no movement, no breathing. The man wasn’t brave enough to touch The MacKinnion to see if he was turning cold. But surely no target had ever been struck more true. The square-headed arrow must have pierced the heart, for both jerkin and plaid were soaking red.
The other man, lying half in, half out of the water, was not worth bothering about. Jameson’s man was eager to tell his laird whom he had killed. Just to be sure, he shot another quarrel into The MacKinnion before hurrying away to the tower.
They decided to wake Sheena as Jamie’s body was being brought into their room, not before. Half asleep, she woke to all that blood. Screaming, she jumped from the bed just before Jamie was laid down on it. She screamed and screamed again, yanking at her hair until Daphne grabbed her, shaking her hard.
“He’s no’ dead, Sheena!” Daphne cried. “Listen to me now—he’s no’ dead!”
She tried to pull Sheena away from the bed, but Sheena resisted, staring at all that blood, at his pale face.
“But—”
“He’s only wounded, lass. Now come away so he can be tended. You’ll only be in the way.”
Finally, Sheena got hold of herself. “I’ll tend him,” she said adamantly.
Daphne argued, “You’re in no shape to be—”
“I said I’ll tend him.” Sheena’s voice was hard. “He’s my husband.”
Daphne fell silent. It was then that Aunt Lydia came into the room and, seeing Jamie, began screaming worse than Sheena had done. She ran from the chamber, her shrieks echoing though the stone hallway.
“You managed to calm me,” Sheena told Daphne quietly. “Go and calm your aunt. I’ll manage here, with some help.”
And she did. Despite the nausea that kept rising to her throat, despite the terror, she and the servants managed to get Jamie’s clothing removed and his wounds bathed and bandaged. The arrows had already been expertly removed. The position of one wound made her wonder why Jamie was still alive. Had that arrow struck a rib? It must have. It had just barely missed the heart. But hewasstill breathing,wasstill alive—just. The other wound was in his side, in both sides, the arrow having, horribly, gone right through him.
Daphne returned, but Sheena wouldn’t respond to her questions and there was nothing she could do, so she left and shooed the servants out, as well.
Alone, Sheena lay down beside Jamie, careful not to move the bed. Her eyes raked his face. She gently touched him. His skin was hot. His eyes remained closed. His breathing came hard. She touched his lips with a fingertip, then laid her cheek against his shoulder. She was consumed by emotions, and her tears fell on Jamie’s skin.
