Page 67 of In the Highlander's Bed

As for herself, she put on a dark blue day dress Fiona had loaned her. It had become one of Constance’s favorite dresses because it set off to advantage the Lachlan tartan. She’d wear that plaid today, and wear it proudly, no matter what happened.

Gordon placed his low-crowned hat on his head. His gaze skimmed to his tartan, draped over her shoulders. “’Tis a bold statement, lass.”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

As if agreeing no words were needed, he lifted the flap, to let her leave first.

Outside, the camp was a hive of activity. Gordon took her arm and started to walk toward the stables when Mad Maggie unfolded herself from beside the next tent where she’d been sitting with her Patty. This was a cleaner, more cared for version of the woman who had attacked Constance that first day, but she could still be as agitated.

“It’s happening,” Maggie said, her voice rising. “It’s the water. It will come.”

“Maggie, go find Fiona,” Gordon said.

“I can’t. I have to warn you,” she said directly to Gordon with an intensity that alarmed Constance. “The water will close over you. It will carry you away.”

“Hey now,” Emma Reivers said, hurrying up. “I’ve been looking for you, Maggie. I’ve been wondering where you were. Come along, and bring Patty, too.”

“I had to warn Gordon,” Maggie said.

“Yes, and you have,” Emma soothed. “However, Gordon has work to do now.”

“I know. He must fetch the sword.”

“Yes,” Emma agreed, and taking Maggie by the arms, started to steer her away. She paused in front of Gordon and said in a low voice, “Didyou know, we lost a daughter who would have been just about Maggie’s age?”

“I didn’t know that,” Gordon said.

Emma looked at Constance. Tears welled in her eyes. “After she died, my husband and I shut off our hearts. However, since we’ve had the care of Maggie, she’s opened us up a bit. Maggie will never be right in the head, but we were needing someone to look after. Thank you.”

She didn’t wait for Constance’s reply, but hurried off, Maggie reluctantly going with her. “It will be all right, Gordon,” Maggie called over her shoulder. “Patty says you will be all right. Just watch the water.”

Constance touched Gordon’s arm. “Do you believe she has a gift of prophecy?”

Gordon shook his head. “I’ve known her for years, and she has been talking about water all that time. It’s nonsense, Constance. Leave it be.”

“I want to believe all will be fine,” she said soberly.

“It will be,” he answered, taking her arm by the elbow and directing her onward.

Thomas and the men were already saddled and ready to go. Fiona was there, too. She came forward to meet them before they joined the others. She gave Constance a long, hard hug and then said to her brother, “Please, I praythat you haven’t been fighting for so long that you’ve forgotten there is another way to live.”

“I haven’t forgotten, Fee,” Gordon said. “I’m fighting to reclaim it.”

Her doubt was clear in her eyes. “Please bring Constance home to us,” she begged.

The hardness left Gordon’s face. “Yes.”

Constance wanted to believe he could.

Someone had saddled Gordon’s horse. There was no question but that Constance would ride, once again, with Gordon.

Settling back against his chest, she whispered, “We have come a long way.” He squeezed her tight and then nodded for his men to follow him. Tad howled at being left behind, but Fiona had tied a rope around his neck and he had no choice other than to stay.

It was a grim band of warriors that rode down from Ben Dunmore. Thomas rode at Gordon’s side, the others in double file behind them.

Constance didn’t speak. Instead, she rested her hand on his arm circling her waist, their touch a vital link.

The horses were fresh. They covered ground swiftly. After an hour of riding, they rounded a bend in the road and came upon the abandoned abbey of St. Columcille’s.