Charlie watched Patrick leave and looked at the doorway to the sleeping quarters. Her indecision as to where she should go kept her rooted in her spot. She wanted to go to the room and tell Cameron Fergusson that there was no future for her and Kendrick. But how could she turn her back on the boy she loved so deeply? He’d grown to manhood in a world of beatings and chains and fought his way to the brink of death, for her. How the hell was she supposed to tell him the truth? She’d actually considered agreeing to his proposal. But guilt and regret were prisons she no longer wanted any part of. And Kendrick deserved more.
She looked toward the front door and thought of the man who’d set her free. Was Patrick leaving? Dare she chase him?
She took off running. He’d told her he loved her, and she believed him. Then why was he giving up so easily? Had he given up already? He rarely requested her company of late. When he checked on Kendrick, he spoke briefly to her then left. She’d wanted to speak with him about Kendrick’s proposal. Did he still love her? Was she giving up her childhood love for a man whose fickle heart had changed once again? But she knew he loved her when he’d looked at her, his heart laid bare before her. Why hadn’t she told him then?
When she stepped outside, she was surprised and utterly relieved to see his horse still tethered to the small post. She looked around. He couldn’t be too far. He’d either gone right toward the village, or left to the fields.
She lifted the hem of her delicate skirts and ran left.
When she saw him kneeling in the grass, she stopped and clutched her hands to her breast. He looked anguished and in terrible pain.
“Patrick?” she said, reaching him. She fell to her knees before him and cupped his face in her hands. The long spray of his lashes were dark with moisture around his somber gaze. “Are you unwell?”
He nodded. “A plague.”
“What do you mean, please be serious. I’m concerned.”
One corner of his mouth quirked, but it was void of any humor. “’Tis love. It has befallen me.”
She blinked and removed her hands from his face to fold her arms across her chest. “Befallen you. Like a curse. A plague.”
“Aye, I—”
She gave him a shove backward and bounded to her feet. “And here I was concerned over you.”
He rose and caught her arm when she moved away. “What would ye call it when ye’re willin’ to fersake all others fer the sake of one? Or the gnarled talons clawin’ away m’ insides and threatenin’ to leave me in ruins? How would ye describe the feelin’ of drownin’ with no one around to help, every damn wakin’ moment? I want to say, the choice is yers.” He shook his head, his eyes glistening under the sun. “But I canna speak the words. I want to fight fer ye. I want to fight him and it shames me.”
She returned to him, her eyes, wide, warm, and worshipful. “I choose you, Patrick MacGregor. What do you think I meant when I told you that you’d succeeded where my father failed?” When he shook his head, she smiled and reached up to run her fingers over his strong jaw. “He tried to kill Kendrick to make me stop loving him. There will always be love in my heart for Kendrick but you are the man I want in my bed every night.” She stepped into his arms. His smile made the backs of her knees burn. “You are the man I want to father my children, and grow old with. ’Tis you I want. I love you, and only you. God and all his angels help me.”
She lost herself in his laughter and his passionate kiss.
They stood at the entryway on the brink of possibly starting another feud—or ending one. Patrick prayed he could convince his uncle what Charlie meant to him, and that Charlie could help Kendrick understand. They were going to claim their futures, defy anything that came against them, together. She’d been at his side during every battle he’d faced since coming here, sometimes dragging him into the glaring light of self-examination. When the thieves had attacked them outside Colmonell, her stones had flown with pinpoint precision, saving his arse. Looking at her, Patrick doubted it would be the last time they would stand united against whatever cause Charlie took on next.
His gaze drew hers. He smiled like a fool, drinking in the sight of her delicate jaw, the shape of her lips angling upward. “I love ye, lass.”
He saw her reply in her eyes before she spoke. He’d won her. “I love you, as well, Patrick.”
She moved against him with haste and reached up to press her lips to his. She turned away and stepped inside. Patrick hung back, his ear alerted to a sound.
He turned toward the kitchen. Were the children still outside? Another sound turned his blood cold.
A child’s muffled scream.
He reached the kitchen before the cry ended and passed Duff and Mary on their way out.
“Children!” Patrick shouted, spinning in a circle as his gaze scanned every direction.
“Jamie!” Mary screamed.
Patrick turned to see the lad running from the barn. Was that…blood on him? Patrick ran to him. “Nonie!” he roared toward the barn. “Robert!”
Robert and Andrew ran crying from the barn next, stilling Patrick’s breath as he caught them in his arms. “Where’s Nonie?” he asked while he quickly examined Jamie for any wound.
“’Tis not his blood,” Robert sniffed and wiped his eyes.
“Nonie bit the monster,” Andrew cried. “He was holding her and Jamie and she bit him.”
“Hendry!” Duff’s voice resonated off the distant trees, and through Patrick’s soul. “What the hell are you doing? I’ll kill you, you bastard! Let her go!”
Patrick rose up from the children. Nonie. Hendry stood at the barn doors holding Nonie by the hair. At Duff’s threat, Hendry produced a knife and held it to her throat.
Patrick caught Nonie’s eye and he winked, though he felt like he had no air left to breathe.
“What d’ye want, Hendry?” he asked with deadly calm.
“I must pay a debt. You know how I enjoy the card tables.” He grinned at Duff and Patrick fought not to rush at him and break every bone in his face. “I want my sister. She must marry Alistair Dunbar or my life is forfeit. So you see?” He tugged Nonie’s head back by her hair, exposing more of her thin throat. “I’ll do whatever I must to have her. Bring her to me now.”
“You offered up our sister at a game of cards?”
Patrick turned to glare at Duff. He was going to get Nonie killed if he tried anything. This wasn’t the time to lose his temper over how Charlie had been treated. Hendry would never have her, nor would the Dunbars. It was not something to worry over.
“Let go of the lass,” he called out to Hendry and returned his gaze to him, “and I’ll bring Charlie to ye m’self.”
“Why? Did you tire of her already?” Hendry laughed. Did all her pining over poor dead Kendrick finally get to you?”
Patrick was supposed to be proclaiming his love for her, instead he stood here, preparing himself to denounce her.
“Aye, I—”
“You’re a liar, Monster!” Nonie shouted. “Kendrick isn’t dead!” She sank her teeth into his arm for the second time and bit him.
Hendry threw back his head at the pain in his arm at the same instant Charlie’s stone flew at his head. The stone struck him in the cheek, tearing skin away from bone.
Patrick took advantage of Hendry’s moment of shock and pain and leaped at him.
“Run to yer mother!” he shouted at Nonie as Hendry’s grip on her loosened and he fought to remain upright.
The lass broke free and ran as Patrick reached Hendry and took hold of him.
Patrick had never wanted to kill a man, until now. Clutching Hendry’s léine, he balled his free hand into a fist and hit him. And again. Three direct blows to the face was enough for the worm, and his legs collapsed beneath him.
Patrick wanted to kill him. But he stepped away and turned to Charlie. Hendry was still her brother.
He moved toward her and saw his uncle appear at the doorway, his pistol raised and pointed at Patrick.
What in blazes—
Patrick heard a sound behind him and ducked. Cameron’s pistol ball shot above his head and hit the bloodied man rising to his feet.
Hendry fell to the ground.
Thankfully, Mary had brought the children inside while Patrick was punching Hendry. Charlie looked away from Hendry’s body and disappeared into the house. Duff passed him, moving toward his brother.
“Uncle?” Patrick went to him. Cameron’s eyes were wide, his brow still furrowed. His pistol still held aloft, shaking in his hand. “Are ye well?”
Cameron blinked and looked at him. He nodded, shoving his weapon beneath his belt. “I am now.”
Patrick held Charlie in his arms within the starlit muirs. The day had been long and difficult and they wanted to be alone. He’d spoken to her briefly about the death of her brother. But her solemn reply was correct. Hendry had brought it on himself.
“Do ye think Kendrick took yer confession well?” Patrick asked against her brow.
“I think he is going to need a long time to heal from his past,” she replied softly. “Caitriona has asked to go to Tarrick Hall to see to his mending. She’s loved him all along. I think I always knew.”
Patrick was glad. They would be here too if Kendrick needed them. Patrick would remain with Charlie in Pinwherry until her father was properly taken to prison for conspiring to kill a boy. Patrick would ask Daniel Marlow, a general in the queen’s army and his cousin by marriage, to see it done.
After he knew the people of Pinwherry were safe, he would take Charlie and Duff to Camlochlin to meet their new kin, and then return here.
“Do you think your uncle will ask me?”
It was Patrick’s idea to tell him he’d handfasted with Charlie in the presence of a priest just a few days ago. He didn’t mind telling an untruth every once in a while. It was Charlie he was worried about. According to her, she did her best never to lie. He hoped, if asked if they were already wed, she wouldn’t try so hard.
He wouldn’t keep her dishonest for long. If the priest were here, he’d make her his wife right now. If Duff wanted to remain in Camlochlin, Patrick would stay here as liege.
It meant responsibility. Duty to every one of his tenants, the weight of a village on his shoulders. But hell, he was strong. Built for fighting. And he wasn’t alone. He had her. This was what he wanted—the challenge of a new life with the only woman he ever loved.