He cut off her question as he pressed a piece of his tunic onto her wound. “I’m fine, Grace,” he answered, looking at the injury. “I am more worried about you.” Fortunately, the wound did not seem to be serious, but he wrapped his arms around her anyway, even though his clothing was becoming red with Grace’s blood.
“I’m all right,” she said, with a groan. The wound had not been painful at first, but she was beginning to feel it now that the first shock was wearing off. She turned her head sideways to try to look down at it, but at that angle, all she could see was a vague red patch.
“You look a little pale,” Fergus observed, then he glared at his brother. “Happy now, Rob?” he asked furiously, but before Robert could answer, he turned away. “We are going to the wise woman so that she can staunch the bleeding.”
William had come over to look anxiously at his sister. “Grace—look at all this blood!” He looked terrified. “What have you done?”
“She saved my life,” Fergus answered proudly. “She took a blade that was meant for me. She is my hero.”
William smiled lovingly at Grace, then kissed her forehead. “Mine too.”
Just then, Lady Alison entered.
24
For a moment there was silence as she looked around, trying to understand the meaning of what had just happened. She glanced briefly at Grace, then focused her attention on Robert.
“Robert?” She glanced at the two guards. “Let him go, but stay beside him.”
Danny and Rory glanced at Fergus, who nodded, before releasing Robert’s arms.
Lady Alison frowned at Robert, then watched as Fergus swept Grace up in his arms. She reached out to touch Grace’s arm gently, turning her around to study the injury better. “Did Robert do this?” she asked. Her face was calm, but Grace could see that her eyes were dark with anger.
“Yes,” she answered, “but I am fine, Milady. It looks worse than it is.”
Lady Alison gently touched the edges of the cut in Grace’s blouse, and Grace winced. “I’m sorry,” she said gently. She was frowning as her eyes turned to her older son.
“I am ashamed of you, Robert. Your father must be turning in his grave.” She walked over to him and looked deeply into his eyes, feeling a surge of sadness and disappointment. James MacAndrew would have been ashamed to see the mess his son had made of his inheritance. “You know that there will be consequences for your actions? We cannot let this go unpunished.”
“Do as you wish, Mother,” Robert said peevishly. “Nobody cares what happens to me anyway.”
“I care,” Lady Alison said firmly as she walked over to him. She was as tall as he was, and was able to look straight into his eyes. “I care very much, Robert, and whatever I said to you the other day was said out of anger and frustration. I am heartily sorry for my harsh words, because despite everything, you are my son, and I love you.
However, I never thought that you would go so far as to try to end your brother’s life. I will never turn my back on you, because you are my child, but I can tell you that I’ll never be able to look at you in the same way again.”
Robert swallowed a lump in his throat, suddenly realizing what a mess he had made of his life. When he had first made the announcement that he would be marrying Grace, both of them appeared to have accepted the new situation and were cooperating with him. However, he found that the thought of being with Grace and actually living with her were two different things.
She was not the biddable young girl she had been when he had first met her. Now she was a grown woman with a will of her own, and even though he had told her—no,ordered—her to submit, it was clear that she had no intention of doing so. He was almost glad to be rid of her.
“Robert,” Lady Alison said firmly, “it’s clear that you’re no longer fit to be Laird here. I will call a council meeting to decide what is to be done with you, but until then, Fergus will be acting Laird, and before you say another word, remember that you brought this on yourself. I will recommend that you be kept here under guard, but the final decision is up to your brother.”
Robert sat down on his bed. He was utterly crushed, and could say nothing as Lady Alison turned and left, accompanied by the two guards. He looked at the carafe of whisky on his bedside table. It was almost empty, so he did not even have the option of drinking himself to sleep.
* * *
“You shouldn’t have done that, Grace,” Fergus said, frowning in disapproval as he watched the healer from Inverleck bathe and stitch the wound on her shoulder. “Stepping in front of Robert like that. You could have been seriously hurt, or even died. What would I have done without you?” His voice was husky, and he was holding himself not to weep.
Grace looked up at his face; from her viewpoint, with her head on his shoulder, she could see the sharp angle of his jaw, the hollow beneath his high, sloping cheekbones and the dark luminous blue of his eyes. She could no more live without him than she could live without air.
“And what if I had not jumped?” she asked. “You might have been the one seriously hurt, or even killed. It’s done, Fergus, and this is no more than a scratch. It might leave a wee scar, but you won’t love me any the less for that, will you?”
He grinned. “No, sweetheart,” he replied fervently. “I wasn’t thinking properly. Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. You might have saved my life.”
Grace closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling of his arms supporting her and the gentle rocking motion as he carried her. It was blissful.
The wise woman had been summoned quickly and was already waiting for them as they entered Grace’s bedroom. She was a tall, slim woman in her middle years with dark hair and the kind of deep brown eyes that made you wonder if she could look into your soul.
The wise woman and herbalist was only known as Maisie, since she was a deaf-mute and no one knew where she had come from. She had wandered into the village one day, homeless and destitute, and had been taken under the wing of a local widow who gave her her name. However, she soon proved her worth as a gifted healer and a maker of potions and medicines.