Authors: Johanna Lindsey
T
he next morning, not even Daphne could bring Sheena out of her despondency. She sat in the hall by the great hearth, seeing nothing of what went on around her. Tortured images were ail she could see, bloodied figures.
It was nearing noon when a voice broke through, a voice she despised. Jessie Martin was sitting across from her, a smugness and a strangeness about her. Sheena had no reason to hate Jessie Martin. Hadn’t she once felt pity for the woman? Still, there was something so distasteful about Jessie.
“Did you say something?” Sheena asked civilly.
“The question was asked if you’re no’ ready to leave yet,” Jessie answered.
“Was it?” Sheena sat back. “Why should I? Do I no’ have everything I could want here, a fine home, a handsome—husband?”
Jessie’s eyes narrowed at the thrust. “I would
think your Fergusson pride couldna bear your staying where you’re no’ wanted.”
“And who doesna want me here?” Sheena inquired sweetly. “Jamie certainly does, very much so.”
“But no one else does,” Jessie said tightly. “They may no’ admit it, but ’tis in their thoughts. You’ve changed Jamie. He’s no longer the man he was, and you’re resented for it.”
“Liar!”
“She speaks the truth, Sheena.”
She looked around to see that Black Gawain was standing behind her, and she felt cornered between them, suffocated.
“Jamie doesna care yet,” Black Gawain continued. “The newness hasna worn off. But when it does, he’ll hate you for what you’ve done. And it’ll be too late by then. His kin will be set against him—and all because of you. But that is what you
really
want, isna it, Sheena Fergusson? You want him torn ’atween you and his kin.”
Sheena couldn’t find a quick answer, but they didn’t wait for one. Both walked away abruptly, leaving her alone to ponder their vicious lies. Only…were they really lies? She probably was resented there. She was a Fergusson, the enemy. And look at what had happened since her wedding. Hadn’t she blamed herself for the feud beginning again? Well, everyone else blamed her, too, no doubt.
She sat there in a daze for several minutes more, then got up slowly and left the hall. She walked to
her room, where she changed to her old green gown, her movements unhurried, mechanical. When she was ready, she went to the courtyard, where she was given a horse as soon as she asked for one. The lad jumped to do her bidding. She had no problem at the gatehouse, either, the gatekeeper simply waving her through.
It was really too easy, she thought dismally as she guided her mare down the mountainside. Had she known how easy it would be, she’d have left the other day, when she had planned to, before Jamie had a chance to make love to her again. That way, she wouldn’t have found out that even anger and hurt couldn’t stop her from wanting him. Oh, how she wished she hadn’t found that out!
Sheena rode blindly, her thoughts in a jumble, until she realized how dangerous that was and stopped to get her bearings. She found herself on a small plot of land in the middle of a recently harvested field. And then she found she was looking down into the face of a crofter.
“You dinna look well, lass,” the man said with genuine concern.
“I’m fine—really,” Sheena assured him, but she didn’t feel fine. She felt all manner of things, but not fine.
“Sir Jamie’s new bride?”
Why deny it? “I am.”
The man nodded. “He’ll be back ’afore long. Off to be meeting him, then, are yer?”
“I…I…”
“Here, now, yer really dinna look at all well, lass. Come inside and rest. My Jannet’ll get yer a dram of the potents.”
Sheena let him lead her horse over to a small croft. He helped her down and ushered her inside. The croft was dark, with heavy cloths over the windows. There was a glowing fire in the center of the single room. The wicker door closed, and she was enveloped in a friendly warmth.
Jannet, a ruddy-faced woman, quickly set aside the meal she was grinding and came forward. “Och, Sir Jamie’s bride! I saw yer at the wedding, but I didna think to be seeing yer again sae soon.”
“She’s out of sorts, Jannet, and could be using some of yer potents,” the crofter explained.
“Och, yer poor wee thing,” Jannet sympathized. “I’ll be getting yer a dram, and yer’ll come over by the fire to set a spell. ’Tis a chilly day to be out and about, and nae mistake.”
Sheena sat by the fire on a stool and took the whiskey gladly. The crofter and his wife stood by anxiously. Sheena saw that the room was scantily furnished, with only two stools and a table, a box bed, meal kists, and a few utensils. A barren existence, yet the middle-aged couple seemed happy enough.
She wondered if they resented her, too, as Black Gawain claimed everyone did. They didn’t seem unfriendly, yet they had probably known Hamish MacKinnion quite well.
“Why are you being so kind to me?” Sheena asked suddenly, her feelings brought to the surface.
The man was truly surprised. “And what else would we be?”
“But I’m a Fergusson,” she said sharply. “You dinna have to pretend you don’t know.”
“Pretend, lass?” The man chuckled. “Do you really think I do?”
“But you must hate me. Others do.”
“I dinna know about others, as yer say. I only know I judge each man on his own merits. Why should I be holding yer birth against yer? Yer a MacKinnion now, anyway. Yer’ll bear the laird a son, and yer son will be laird one day. Yer one of us, lass, or dinna yer feel that way yet?”
Sheena didn’t feel like that or believe she ever would. She felt alone, isolated, neither a MacKinnion nor a Fergusson. Thinking of it, she suddenly knew she could never go home, not as long as the feud continued, not bearing the MacKinnion name. Among Fergussons she would face exactly what she faced among MacKinnions. So where did that leave her?
No sooner had Jamie dismounted and handed his horse over to the stable lad than Jessie Martin sidled up to him, blocking his path. He was in no mood to be detained, and he didn’t want a scene with Jessie while his men looked on. He was in no mood for anything except sleep after riding to Angusshire without stopping, and back without stopping, either.
What a disgusting waste of time it had been. He didn’t know what he’d expected to accomplish by talking to Dugald. He had been received grudgingly, had listened to the man storm and bluster, and had come away without any resolutions. The problem was he didn’t know Dugald Fergusson well enough to know whether he was an adept liar or was speaking the truth. Even in the midst of a powerful rage, he might have been acting.
Jamie didn’t doubt Dugald’s anger. For apparently Iain had indeed died on the way home, just as Sheena had feared. Jamie had left a generous settlement with Dugald to compensate, as was his custom in accidental deaths. But that had not appeased Dugald or his MacAfee cousin, who had insisted on being present during their meeting.
Jamie remembered Niall speaking of MacAfee with disgust, confessing that Sheena couldn’t stand him, either. Jamie found himself thoroughly disliking William MacAfee, as well. Except for that tall, thin man, Jamie might have accepted Dugald’s word that he hadn’t raided the MacKinnion lands that night. But Sir William MacAfee had exuded an air of gloating satisfaction when Jamie mentioned the raid, an air that couldn’t be denied. If only Jamie had been able to talk to Niall, but Niall had been nowhere in evidence.
Jamie did receive one promise, confirming Sheena’s belief. Dugald swore he would not, could not, take action as long as Sheena was in Jamie’s hands. But…truth or lie? Sweet Mary, he wished
he could be sure! If only Jock had not sworn the raiders’ plaid was green, gold, and gray. If only Jock had not identified the cry as the Fergusson battle cry.
Jamie was no better settled on what he should do. And he certainly wasn’t looking forward to facing Sheena, being able to tell her only that he hadn’t done anything yet. She would only demand to know what he planned, and he still couldn’t tell her.
But just then he was facing Jessie Martin and not liking it one bit. “You make yourself free in my castle again,” he said tersely.
She made a little moue as she moved closer. “You wouldna ask me to leave, not when my cousin is still here, would you?”
“You hide behind your cousin,” Jamie replied curtly. “Just be sure you leave when he does.”
“And who’ll keep you company, now that your wife’s rejected you?”
Jamie gripped her arm and shoved her away. “A wife canna reject her husband,” he said tightly. “And you intrude in what is none of your concern.”
“I dinna think she agrees,” Jessie retorted, rubbing her arm. “A wife can reject her husband if she so chooses.”
Jamie grunted. “She’ll be coming around, once she’s used to being married.”
“Will she now?” Jessie taunted angrily. “How will she do that, Jamie, when she’s no’ even here.”
A number of emotions crossed Jamie’s face before he turned and made for the hall. But Jessie stopped him, her voice bitter, before he got very far.
“You’ll waste your time looking for her. I’m no’ the only one who saw your precious Sheena leave. She’s made her rejection of you a public matter, proclaiming to one and all she wants naught to do with you.” Jamie turned and ran back toward the stable then, and Jessie shouted after him, “You canna still want her, Jamie! Have you no shame? No pride?”
But Jamie continued on, ignoring the outburst, and Jessie stomped off in the other direction. She would have to tell Black Gawain she had failed. Jamie was going after his foolish wife after all.
What an impossibly stubborn man. Couldn’t he see the little Lowlander was no good for him? Couldn’t he see what Jessie had to offer? He was blind—and that was his misfortune.
Jessie never should have stayed at Castle Kinnion, she chided herself, enduring Black Gawain’s crude lovemaking just so she could be there. A waste of her time and talent. And Black Gawain didn’t even care for Jessie. It was Sheena he had wanted from the start, until he learned she was a Fergusson. Sheena—always Sheena! Jessie worked herself into a blind rage, and as she stomped through the castle in search of Black Gawain, those she passed gave her a very wide berth.
S
heena was ready to mount her horse again and return to the castle. But as she was leaving the croft, Jamie galloped furiously toward her, coming to a skidding halt in the yard. Hearing the noise, the crofter and his wife came back out of their hut. They could only stand there, mute in the face of Jamie’s black rage.
Sheena was equally mute and frightened. She had confessed to Jannet that she meant to leave the Highlands, and Jannet had effectively talked her out of it. But Jamie couldn’t know that, of course. And he was in no mood to be told.
“Stopped to tarry on your way home, did you?” Jamie said, his voice harsh and accusing. “’Tis well you did, so I found you ’afore you left MacKinnion land.”
“Well for whom?” Sheena dared to ask.
Jamie’s frown deepened, his eyes turning almost
green, smoldering dangerously. “You didna heed my warning, and now you dare to be impudent, as well?”
“Jamie, I—”
“You mock me, you defy me, and you think nothing will come of it?” he raged, his anger robbing him of control.
“Jamie!”
“Nay!”
He moved his horse closer and caught her arm, pulling her. He wanted to shake her violently, but he only held her, his fingers biting. Seeing her wince didn’t lessen his anger or make him feel better.
“You misused the feeling I have for you, Sheena. I am lenient with you, so you’re thinking you can do as you please,” he shouted, “You’re my wife! There’s no excuse that will appease me this time!”
Sheena yanked her arm away. Her chin went up stubbornly. “Then I’ll no’ give one!” she shouted back.
She would have liked to explain, was the truth. She would have told him she’d changed her mind. She had tried to tell him, but his tirade had made it impossible. Now she refused to try. She had her pride.
“I’ll no’ be taken back!” she said adamantly. “I’ll no’ live with such an arrogant, churlish knave!”
Jamie glowered at her for an eternity, his fists clenching. An ominous gleam entered his eyes, and some of the steam went out of her then. He was fighting for control and she knew it.
When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, too quiet. “I’m no’ here to bring you back, Sheena.”
Confusion took over. “I dinna ken.”
“You’re my wife—that hasna changed. But I’ll no’ be shamed by you again. You’ve abused me for the last time, Sheena. I dinna want you back.” His mouth was a grim line. “That should make you happy.
I
certainly have failed to make you happy, Lord knows.”
She felt a tightness in her chest, and her vision blurred. “You…you’re letting me leave?” she said softly, close to choking on the words.
“Nay, Sheena.” His voice was overly tight, as if it was all he could do to keep it under control. “I forbid that. You’re a MacKinnion now, and you’ll live on MacKinnion land. I’ll have a dwelling built for you. You’ll live there—alone, as is your wish. You can tend the land or no’. Whichever, I’ll see you dinna starve.”
She was incredulous. “Jamie, you canna mean this.”
“I didna think I would ever say such a thing. But you’ve said from the beginning that you wanted naught to do with me. Finally, I believe you.”
Sheena fought to keep back both tears and fury. How could he?
“You keep me as wife, but mean to deny me what that entails?” she stormed. “You think you can?”
“I know I can.”
“I refuse! You canna treat me that way!” she cried. “I’ll be going back to my father.”
“You’ll stay!” he thundered. “I’ll give you this
warning just once. You go home to your father, and I’ll tear his tower down piece by piece to find you. Heed me, Sheena MacKinnion, for I’m through with threats!”
Jamie had said all he was going to. He grabbed her horse’s reins and rode off at a furious pace, her mare galloping along behind. The yellow-gold of Jamie’s hair and the green and gold of his plaid became a blur as Sheena’s tears came.
“Och, now, hinny, there’s nae need for that.” Jannet put her arm around Sheena and led her back inside their home. “Sir Jamie will be relenting, yer’ll see. He’s a temper is all, just like the auld laird, his father. But it willna last.”
“Last!” Sheena echoed. “He’s been in a temper since the day I met him.”
“And has there been a reason for that?” Jannet asked wisely. Seeing the two of them fight with so much emotion had told her what she’d suspected was true.
Sheena didn’t answer. She was devastated. She tried to tell herself that the ache she felt was only because of Jamie’s anger, and because she wanted to go home and he was stopping her. But that wasn’t the whole truth, and she knew it.
As Jannet tried to soothe her, insisting Sheena stay with them until Jamie came to his senses, all she could think of was that Jamie had left her, had ridden off and left her. And she didn’t even know what had happened in Angusshire between the clans.