He forced his mind back to more important matters. "Calum, call all the MacBain soldiers together," he commanded then. "I want each man to tell me he didn't touch Clare MacKay."

"And you will believe…"

Keith quit his question when his laird scowled at him. "None of my warriors will lie to me, Keith," Gabriel snapped.

"But if one admits he did in fact spend the night with the woman? What will you do then?"

"That isn't your concern, Keith. I want you to ride to Laird MacKay and tell him what took place here today."

"Do I tell him his daughter is dying or do I soften the truth?"

"Tell him she's been given the last rites."

"And do I tell him a MacBain…"

"Tell them exactly what Laird MacInnes charged," Gabriel commanded, his impatience evident. "Damn, I wish I'd killed the bastards when I had the chance."

"You'd have a war on your hands if you did, MacBain," Keith pointed out.

"War has already been declared," he snapped. "Think I will so easily forget the fact that the laird's son tried to kill my wife?"

He was shouting by the time he finished his question. The Maclaurin warrior shook his head. "Nay, Laird," he rushed out. "You will not forget, and I stand beside you on this issue."

"Damned right you do," Gabriel countered.

Calum took a step forward then. "The MacKays might also wage war if they believe a MacBain did in fact compromise Clare MacKay."

"None of my men would act so dishonorably," Gabriel snapped.

Calum nodded agreement. Keith wasn't convinced. "MacInnes said your plaid was spotted," he reminded his laird.

"He was lying to us," Calum argued.

"Laird MacInnes also said Clare MacKay admitted she spent the night with a MacBain," Keith said.

"Then she's lying," Calum replied.

Gabriel turned his back on his soldiers. "I have given both of you your duties. See them completed."

The soldiers immediately left the hall. Gabriel stood by the hearth a long while.

He had one hell of a problem on his hands. He knew, without a doubt, that none of his men was responsible for disgracing Clare MacKay.

Yet the MacBain plaid had been spotted… three months ago.

"Hell," Gabriel muttered to himself. If Laird MacInnes was telling the truth, there could" only be one answer, only one man responsible for the damnable mess.

Nicholas.

Chapter 12

Clare MacKay didn't wake up until the following morning. Johanna stayed with the woman most of the night until Gabriel came into the chamber and literally dragged her away. Hilda was happy to take over the watch for her mistress.

Johanna had only just returned to the room and settled herself in a chair by the side of Clare's bed when the woman opened her eyes and spoke to her.

"I heard you whispering to me."

Johanna was given quite a start. She jumped up and went over to Clare.

"You're awake," she whispered, her relief almost overwhelming.

Clare nodded. "How do you feel?" Johanna asked.

"I ache from my head to my toes."

Johanna nodded. "You have bruises from your head to your toes," she replied. "Does your throat hurt, too? You sound hoarse."

"'Tis the truth I did a lot of screaming," Clare said. "May I have a drink of water?"

Johanna hurried to fetch the goblet. She helped Clare sit up. She tried to be as gentle as possible, but the woman still grimaced in pain. Her hand shook when she reached for the goblet.

"Was there a priest here? I thought I heard someone praying."

"Father MacKechnie gave you the last rites," Johanna explained. She put the goblet on the chest and sat down in her chair again. "We didn't know if you would survive or not. It was just a precaution," she added in a rush.

Clare smiled. She had beautiful white teeth and dark brown eyes. Her face was still terribly swollen, of course, and Johanna could tell from the way she tried not to move she was still in terrible pain.

"Who did this to you?"

Clare closed her eyes. She avoided answering the question by asking one of her own. "Last night… you said I was safe. I remember hearing you whisper those words to me. Were you telling the truth? Am I safe here?"

"Yes, of course you are."

"Where is here?"

Johanna hurried to introduce herself and then explained what had happened. She deliberately left out the mention about the arrow she'd put in Robert MacInnes's thigh and the arrow her husband put in his shoulder. By the time she was finished with her explanation, Clare was falling asleep again.

"We'll talk later," she promised. "Sleep now, Clare. You may stay with us for as long as you wish. Hilda will bring you something to eat in just a little while. You'll…"

Johanna quit talking when she realized Clare MacKay was sound asleep. She tucked the covers around the woman, moved her chair back, and left the room.

Gabriel was reaching for his boots when Johanna walked into their chamber.

"Good morning, m'lord," she said in greeting. "Did you sleep well?"

He frowned in reaction. Johanna went over to the window and pulled the furs back. From the yellow cast in the sky, she guessed it was only a few minutes past dawn.

"You were told to stay in bed," he said. "Did you wait until I fell asleep and then leave again?"

"Yes."

His frown intensified. She decided to try to placate him.

"I thought I would rest for a few minutes before going downstairs. I am weary."

"You look half dead."

"My appearance isn't important," she announced even as her hands flew to her hair and she tried to tuck the curls back into her braid.

"Come here, Johanna."

She walked across the room to stand in front of him. He reached down to untie the belt holding her plaid in place.

"You will stay where you're put," he announced.

She tried to slap his hands away. "I'm not a piece of jewelry or a trinket only to be taken off a shelf when the mood strikes you, m'lord."

Gabriel caught hold of her chin and leaned down to kiss her. He thought only to get her to quit frowning, but her lips were so damned soft and appealing, he forgot his reason. He put his arms around his wife and hauled her up against him.

His kisses made her weak-kneed and dizzy. She put her arms around her husband's waist and held tight. She decided it was quite all right to allow him to rob her of her every thought. He was her husband, after all. Besides, when he was kissing her, he couldn't scowl… or lecture.

She didn't remember undressing or getting into bed. Gabriel must have carried her there. He'd taken his clothes off, too. He covered her with his body, captured the sides of her face with his hands, and gave her a seering kiss. His tongue moved inside her mouth to rub against hers.

She loved to touch him, to feel his hot skin under her fingertips, to caress the splay of hard muscle along his upper arms and shoulders. When she wrapped her arms around her husband, she felt as though she'd captured his strength and his power.

He was a wonder to her, a revelation. Gabriel was as strong as the fittest of warriors, and yet so incredibly gentle whenever he touched her.

She loved the fact that she could make him lose his control. She didn't have to guess that might be true either; Gabriel told her. She felt… free with him, and completely uninhibited as well, for her husband seemed to like whatever she wanted to do.

He made her lose her own control, of course. She wasn't one to scream her demands, but by the time he quit his teasing and moved to mate with her, she was wild to make him end this sweet torment.

She cried out when he entered her, and he immediately stopped. "God, Johanna, I didn't mean to…"

"Oh, God, I hope you did mean to," she whispered. Her nails dug into his shoulder blades. She wrapped her legs around his thighs and squeezed him tight inside her. "Gabriel, I don't wish you to stop now. I want you to move."