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At last the chapel door opened and Jemmy hurried in, going immediately to his wife and lifting her in his arms.

"Oh, Jemmy," Alyson cried, throwing her arms around his neck. "I'm fine," she added quickly. "Let me down, I'm fine—but what of you?"

He looked almost too weary to stand, but he smiled. "I am well enough. For now."

Alyson looked as though she might protest, but then Jemmy added quietly, "There are...others who need help."

She nodded. "Aye. Of course. Come to me, then, when you can."

Jemmy knelt beside Alistair, his expression grim. "Lady," he said, looking up at Deirdre. "Is he...?"

"Nay."

Jemmy smoothed a strand of blood-soaked hair from Alistair's brow, looking long into his kinsman's battered face. "Where did he come from, earlier?"

"Calder took him last night," Deirdre answered dully. "He left him for dead."

"But you found him."

"Ronan helped me. Where is Ronan?" she asked, looking dazedly about. "He left me—when we first arrived—"

Jemmy touched her hand. "He is being seen to."

"Why? What happened to him?"

"Alyson is going to him now," Jemmy said. "He—oh, lady, he has earned our gratitude today. Whatever can be done for him, she will do."

Deirdre bent her head and shut her eyes, willing back the tears. When she looked up again, she met Jemmy's gaze and understood that Ronan was but one of many he must worry for now.

"Were the losses very heavy?" she asked, knowing already what the answer was.

"Aye. But not so heavy as they would have been without Alistair."

"I thought—you would not heed him. I thought—"

"I know. But 'twas never true. All was said and done for my sake."

Alistair's lids fluttered and he looked up at her.

"Dinna cry, lass," he said. "Deirdre, don't—"

His gaze wandered, then fixed on Malcolm. "Jemmy," he said clearly. "Always. D'ye ken?"

"Aye, Alistair. I do now. Why did ye no' tell me?" Malcolm cried.

"He could not," Jemmy said. "Nor could I."

Alistair turned his gaze to Deirdre. "Oh, love, dinna greet. It's all right. We did it. 'Ware, now, I'm bleeding on your gown."

"You can buy me a new one," Deirdre said, her tears splashing on his face.

"Aye." His eyes fell shut. The dark lashes fluttered, as though he struggled to open them, and his voice was only a whisper when he spoke again. "Shall we go to Donegal now?"

"Yes," Deirdre said fiercely. "My father will want to meet the man I marry. For we will marry, Alistair. Don't even think you can get out of it by dying on me now."

His eyes did open then, only for a moment. "Oh, no, Your Highness." The ghost of a smile passed across his pale lips. "I wouldna dare to try."

CHAPTER 41