Black Richard's Heart (The MacCulloughs #1) - Suzan Tisdale Page 0,162
erected, and a nice fire built in a quiet little spot in the woods. Lachlan had been adamant that she be nowhere near the fighting when it broke out. She hadn’t been able to convince Daniel to allow her to stay, no matter how much she pleaded or threatened him with chamber pot duty.
So whisked away they were, she, Aeschene, Keevah, along with Hattie and the kitchen maids. Raibeart and Colyne were here as well. For once, Colyne didn’t grouse about taking a bath. He went willingly to the loch, under the careful watch of ten MacCullough warriors and his older brother.
They had been fed, and were now resting in one of the tents. Aeschene prayed Colyne would not be forever haunted by whatever torment Randall Chisolm and his men had put him through. She also prayed that Raibeart would forgive her for not allowing him to stay and fight with the rest of the men.
“Why have they nae sent word yet?” Aeschene asked as she worried at the hem of her cloak. “It has been hours.”
“I must admit, I too am worried,” Marisse murmured softly. “Did ye see how awful Rory looked?”
Aeschene gave her a look that said, truly? When Marisse didn’t respond to that look, she said, “Aye, I did. Plain as day it was.”
Embarrassed, Marisse rolled her eyes and apologized. “Och! Aeschene-”
“Dunnae fash yerself,” she said with a warm smile. “It has been a harrowing few days.”
She gave her leg a gentle pat before turning away. “Just how bad did they look?”
“Oh, Aeschene, ’twas awful. He was so badly battered and bruised, his left eye was swollen shut, his lip caked with blood. He was filthy, and looked so worn and haggard.”
Having a sneaking suspicion Marisse was finally coming to grips with her feelings for Rory, she said, “Is it my husband ye speak of or Rory?”
“Rory,” she admitted. “Richard looked far worse.”
That didn’t make her feel any better.
“Ye care for him. For Rory.”
For the first time, Marisse didn’t deny her feelings. “Aye, Aeschene, I fear I do!”
She sounded indisputably despondent, as if admitting such was some sort of crime.
“Marisse, I will be fine, ye ken that, aye?”
“Are ye tryin’ to get rid of me?”
“Never,” Aeschene said with a smile. “I will always need ye. But mayhap, ’tis time ye start building’ a life of yer own.”
Marisse shrugged as she pursed her lips, not quite ready yet to admit she would very much like to start building that life or the fact she wanted to build it with Rory.
In the distance, Aeschene heard the sound of horses and they were approaching at a rapid speed.
“Aye, I hear it too,” Marisse said a moment later.
The two women got to their feet and held one another.
“They must be our men,” Aeschene said. “No one has given a call to arms.”
Moments later, they men on horseback came into view.
Aeschene felt Marisse grow tense. “What is it?” she asked, her own tension and worry expanding rapidly.
“’Tis Rory, and Richard,” Marisse said.
Relieved, yet fearful because she knew her husband was probably quite distressed with her, Aeschene stood a bit taller, fully prepared to explain herself in a thoughtful, intelligent matter.
“Aeschene?” Marisse said as she tried to take a step back. “Ye might wish to run.”
“Run? Whatever for?”
“Because yer husband looks mad enough to bite his sword in half.”
Running, of course, was not an option. Even if she could see clearly, Aeschene wouldn’t have been able to run far enough or fast enough to escape her husband’s wrath.
He said not a word as he dismounted and thundered towards her. She could feel him coming towards her, could feel his fury.
“Now Richard.” Why did her voice crack so?
She didn’t get another word out before he was scooping her into his arms. In his usual manner, his deep voice booming through the forest sending birds to flight and creatures scrambling. “Which tent is my wife’s?”
One of his warriors answered and soon he was tromping over this and that. Several moments later, they were inside Aeschene’s tent where he set her on her feet.
“Now, Richard, let me explain,” she said, taking a cautious step back. She didn’t like the idea of retreating, but truly, what other choice did she have.
“Do ye realize the risk ye took?” He wasn’t going to give her time to answer. He was too bloody furious. Even more angry than when she had inadvertently stepped out on the plank all those months ago. “Nae only did ye put yer life at risk,