The Angel and the Highlander(99)

The young lad nodded, though fear glazed his brown eyes.

The lad didn’t disappoint them. He took the warrior down, and another, allowing his father and Alyce to make a hasty exit and surprise two warriors. Two more came at her and, while she was quick to wound one, the other sliced her shoulder before she landed a knife in his gut. Just then Hagen arrived, leading a group of Sinclare warriors.

He was off his horse and in front of her in seconds. She didn’t protest since her shoulder burned and she didn’t feel herself, though the babe remained calm. She was surprised to suddenly see Zia beside her and then she heard Honora’s voice and not soon after Addie’s. The clashing of swords continued around her, and she wasn’t sure but she thought she saw a bow in Honora’s hand and her shooting arrow after arrow, while it seemed that Addie, sword in hand, battled alongside Hagen who had left her side.

The whole scene seemed surreal and Alyce couldn’t quite understand what Zia was saying to her. She staggered trying to remain standing. Then everything began spinning, and she heard shouts in the distance and the ground shook and just before everything went black, she saw her husband’s face and felt his arms go around her.





Chapter 36


Lachlan sat by his wife’s bedside waiting for her to wake up. He had so much to say to her and he was anxious to say it. When he had seen her collapsing, he had bolted off his horse and ran to her, leaving his brothers to protect him as he ran through the melee to his wife.

He had caught her just as her eyes fluttered closed, but he thought—he hoped—she had seen him, for he believed she had smiled at him before she passed out. Zia had tended her, assuring him the wound was nothing to worry about. And when she hadn’t revived, Zia explained that it sometimes happened, but she would awaken soon enough. She suggested it would be good to get her back to the keep where she could rest in familiar surroundings.

He had followed her advice and had been sitting by her bed for over an hour now, worried that she wouldn’t wake up, that he would never have the chance to tell her how sorry he was.

He took hold of her hand. It was warm and soft but also branded with a callous or two from hard work. She always worked hard and never complained and she was always there for her friends and adopted family, and for him, though he was foolish enough to believe otherwise. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back and then the palm and then he gently nipped at each fingertip, a playfulness of his that never failed to delight her. He hoped and prayed it would rouse her from her sleep, but she didn’t move.

He hung his head and gently brought her hand to rest against his chest over his heart.

“My heart belongs to you, Alyce,” he said softly. “It always will. I wanted you to be happy. I wanted you to know you were free with me and what did I do? I failed you and why?”

“You’re a fool.”

His head shot up to see his wife’s eyes open, and he smiled. “You’re right.”

She broke into a wide grin and tapped his chest. “But you’re my fool.”

He took hold of her hand, kissed it again, and then leaned over to gently kiss her lips. “I’m sorry.”

She pressed her cheek to his. “I am too.”

“You have no need to be.”

“But I do,” she said, taking hold of his arm to help her sit up.

He lifted her up with a supportive arm while his other hand stacked pillows behind her back.

She grabbed hold of his hand. “You’re everything I wished for in a husband.”

“You wanted a fool for a husband?” he teased.

She smiled and her blue eyes twinkled. “I wanted a good man with a good heart and I found him, only it took me awhile longer to realize just how good his heart truly is.”

He shook his head. “I promised you I would never judge or—”

She pressed her fingers to his lips. “I should have told you my suspicions right away. I should have trusted your reaction.”

He tried to disagree, she objected with a shake of her head, but he gently pried her fingers away. “How could you fully trust me when I never gave you a choice in marrying me?”

“It doesn’t matter any—”

“It does matter,” Lachlan insisted. “You had a right to that choice and if I had trusted our love enough, I would have given it to you. I feared you would deny me, yet I was confident I could make you see my decision was the best for us.”

“It was best.”

“Of course it was,” he said with a smile.

“Then there is no need to discuss it any longer,” she said. “What is done, is done. We start anew and bury the past—”