Julie Garwood - The Bride

Then he carried Mary over to the rocking chair, settled her on his lap, and ordered her to go to sleep. Mary tried to climb up his chest instead. She was just as suspicious of the moving chair as he'd been, and he had to soothe her back down into his lap.

Jamie had turned her back on the two of them and was giving Angus her undivided attention. Alec drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, wondering what in God's name he was supposed to do now. He decided he might as well try telling a bedtime story. It took him a minute to pick his favorite, and then he related, in full, the tale of one of his finest battles.

In short minutes, he had Mary Kathleen enthralled. Her eyes had widened to saucers again and she seemed to be hanging on his every word.

Gavin and Marcus also became interested in the bloody tale. They pulled up stools near the hearth and took turns offering grunts of approval during the telling.

Jamie could hear Alec's soft burr in the background, but she wasn't paying any attention to what he was saying. Angus was letting her know how unhappy he was because she wouldn't let him remove the slats from his arm. "Your fingers are moving now, Angus, but that doesn't mean the healing's done. No, you have a good month, mayhap more, wearing this contraption, and that's that. Elizabeth, his chest has healed nicely, hasn't it?"

"It has," Elizabeth replied. "We are both very thankful to you, Jamie. Aren't we, Angus?"

"Aye, we are," Angus agreed.

It looked as though it pained him to make that confession. Jamie tried not to laugh. She'd already learned that Angus's gruff manner hid a soft heart.

She smiled at Elizabeth, then hurried to put her supplies away. It was time to take Mary Kathleen upstairs. The little girl was surely exhausted from her long day.

Yet when she turned the comer again and saw Alec holding Mary in his lap, she didn't have the heart to interrupt. Lord, she really must be exhausted, too.

Why, her eyes filled up with tears over the wonderful sight.

He was telling his daughter a bedtime story. No, she qualified with a smile. He was telling Mary, Marcus, Gavin, and Angus a bedtime story. God's truth, the men looked just as engrossed in the tale as the three-year-old.

She loved Alec with all her heart. He was such a gentle, compassionate man. She felt like laughing now. Alec would certainly take great exception if he guessed she thought him kind, and she wondered how he was going to react when she finally confessed her love to him.

It didn't matter if he accepted her love or not, she thought with a sudden frown. In time, she was sure he'd see the rightness in it. Why, with proper prodding, he might even begin to love her, too.

How could she have ever thought the Scots were inferior? She had to shake her head over that shameful sin, then started forward to hear this story that held everyone so captivated.

Not everyone was captivated, she noticed when she saw Elizabeth's expression.

Angus's wife looked positively horrified.

And then she caught one of Alec's remarks. "The mighty blow severed his arm…"

"What are you telling that child?" she demanded in a near shout.

"Just a story," Alec answered. "Why?"

"What specific story?" Jamie asked. She rushed forward to snatch Mary out of Alec's lap.

"The battle with the Northumbrians," he answered.

"In vivid detail," Elizabeth informed her.

Jamie's irritation vanished in the face of her husband's obvious confusion over her reaction. "Alec, you'll give this baby nightmares with such talk."

"She liked the story," Alec argued. "Give her back to me, Jamie. I've still to tell the ending."

"Aye, he has to finish the tale," Gavin interjected.

"She's going to bed." Jamie laughed then, in spite of her better intentions. "I cannot believe you'd tell a sweet child a battle story."

It soon became apparent to her that Alec and his soldiers couldn't believe she'd take exception to the tale.

"Give Mary a good night kiss," Jamie instructed. She handed the child back to her father and watched him place a gentle kiss on her brow.

"Go to your bed now, Mary," Alec told the child in a soft whisper. "I'll finish your story tomorrow."

When he put the little girl down, she hurried over to the hearth and stretched out on the rushes. "Does she think that's where she's supposed to sleep?" Alec asked.

Jamie chased after Mary and picked her up before answering. "I suppose she does," she said. "Her grandmother must have been very good to her, though. Mary has such a sweet disposition. 'Tis proof she hasn't been mistreated long."

"Why is that proof?" Alec asked.

"When a child is treated cruelly, sometimes the mind becomes twisted, Alec, or so I've been told. Why are you looking at me like that?" she added in a worried tone. "You look… stunned. We needn't worry about our Mary, Alec."

Alec forced a grin. "I never worry," he said. "You do enough for the both of us."

She decided to ignore that ridiculous statement. "May we sleep upstairs tonight, Alec? I want to be near Mary. She might need me during the night."

He was the one who needed her during the night. That thought popped into his mind all at once, causing a fierce frown. Hell, she was supposed to need him.

He looked at little Mary. The child's face rested against Jamie's shoulder. Her eyes were closed, her expression bordering on blissful. It was very apparent she liked being held by Jamie.

The bruises would fade away from the child's back and legs, and Alec knew that Jamie would soon be able to soothe away any hurt lingering inside the child's mind. Aye, his wife would make Mary Kathleen content… as content as her magical love had made him.

She did love him. The way she looked at him told him so. She might not have reckoned with the truth yet, but Alec was certain that, in time, and with enough prodding, she'd settle in to accepting her fate. He had. God must have had a hand in sending Jamie to him, he decided, because if anyone had told him a year ago that he'd love an opinionated, bad-tempered, contrary English woman, he would have laughed first and then flattened the man for suggesting such a notion.

He guessed he'd have to tell her he loved her. Alec quit his scowl. He'd tell her tonight, he decided. In Gaelic. Just to be contrary.

"Alec? Will you be needing to speak to me again tonight?" Angus asked, interrupting his laird's thoughts.

"No, Angus. Take Elizabeth home. We'll discuss our plans again tomorrow."

Gavin waited until Angus had taken Elizabeth outside before questioning Alec.

Though he was sure Elizabeth wouldn't repeat anything she overheard, he didn't want to upset her. "What plan are you thinking of, Alec? Do you know who tried to kill Jamie?"

"You're not including us in your discussion?" Marcus asked.

"Quit your frown, Marcus," Alec ordered. "I haven't had time to include the two of you yet. You did check the bedrooms, didn't you, Gavin?"

The soldier nodded. "And I've been watching the doors ever since. Edith is waiting in Mary's room. She wants permission from Jamie to sleep with Mary tonight in case the child awakens."

"The soldiers are still stationed below your window, milord," Marcus added.

"Put two more at the bottom of the steps, Marcus. No one goes up those stairs."

"Do you know who it is?" Gavin asked again.

"I'm almost certain," Alec returned. His expression turned grim. "Tomorrow we set the trap. I've been looking in the wrong direction. And if I'm right, once this is over, Father Murdock will have to bless Helena's grave."

"I don't understand," Marcus whispered.

"If I'm right," Alec repeated, "Helena didn't kill herself. She was murdered."

He guards her like a precious treasure. The fool! Does he actually think he can stop me?