The Laird of Blackloch (Highland Rogue #2)

Chapter 30

A small metallic sound—the click of a latch—dragged Sarah’s attention away from Isla. Her heart in her mouth, her gaze flew to the library doorway and a small cry of joy escaped her when she saw who it was.

Alex.

She leapt to her feet and heedless of her bloodstained hands and gown, rushed over and threw her arms about him. “You’re all right,” she breathed against his neck as relief and gratitude flooded her. “Thank God.”

“Aye.” He drew back a little and framed her face with his hands. His gray eyes held hers. “And Malcolm is dead.”

Sarah nodded. “Good. I’m glad.” It wasn’t a lie. “It’s a just fate for such an evil man.” She slid her hands down his arms and when he winced, she noticed the bloodstained tear in the sleeve of his white shirt. “Oh, sweet heaven.” She stepped back and her gaze fell to the bloodied tear across his buckskin breeches. “You’ve been injured too.”

Alex smiled. “It’s not too bad. Just a wee nick on my arm and thigh. I’ll heal well enough.” His gaze moved to Isla and the group clustered around the settee. “How is she?” he asked softly, his expression grim.

“Alive. It’s a shoulder wound but MacLagan says the bullet has only passed through muscle and sinew, and that if the bleeding stops, she’ll recover.”

He nodded and swallowed. “She saved my life.”

“I know.” Sarah touched his face. “I think, if you have the strength for it, she would be heartened to see you.”

Alex placed his hand over hers. “You are the sweetest woman alive, Sarah. Not many would be as generous and forgiving as you.”

Dobson and MacLagan moved away as she and Alex approached the settee but Aileen stayed by her daughter’s side; they’d dressed Isla’s shoulder with linen bandages but blood had soaked through them already.

Alex touched the older woman’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry all this happened, Aileen.”

At the sound of his voice, Isla’s eyes opened. “Milord,” she whispered through pale lips. She reached out a trembling hand and Alex took it as he lowered himself to his knees.

He brushed a tendril of her hair from her clammy brow. “I’m here, Isla.”

Her lips trembled. “Is…is Lord Tay dead?”

“Aye.”

A sigh shivered out of her. “I’m so verra sorry...for everythin’ I’ve done...to Miss Lambert... To you.” She broke off and a tear slipped from the corner of one eye. “I’ve been so verra wicked... If I die?—”

“You won’t die.” Alex squeezed her hand. “I’m going to send for the surgeon at the barracks.”

He glanced at MacLagan and the young man nodded. “I’ll go now, milord. I expect he’ll want to see to yer wounds too, but perhaps he can also check on young Stark and MacWilliam if that is all right with ye. According to Moira, Stark’s been winged and MacWilliam’s side will need a few stitches but other than that, they should be fine.”

Alex inclined his head. “Very good.”

Isla opened her eyes again and her gaze shifted to the end of the settee where Sarah hovered. “Miss Lambert...I hope that one day ye might be able to forgive me. I thought...ye were like...Lord Tay... Selfish... And I was jealous and so verra wrong. I want...” She drew a shaky breath then tried again. “I want Lord Rannoch to be happy.”

Sarah’s heart clenched and she blinked away tears. “I promise I’ll do my very best to make him so.”

Isla’s lips twitched in a weak smile. “Good.”

Aileen placed a dampened washcloth over her daughter’s brow. “I think she needs to rest now, until the surgeon arrives.”

Sarah nodded. “I agree.”

Alex relinquished Isla’s hand and rose to his feet. “Dobson, thank you for standing guard whilst I was otherwise engaged. It couldn’t have been easy with Isla injured so.”

Dobson nodded and Sarah noticed the faithful servant’s eyes were suspiciously bright. “It has always been my pleasure to serve ye and yer family, milord. I’m a Clan McIvor man. If there’s anythin’ else I can do...”

Alex inclined his head. “Thank you. There might be. I will let you know in due course.”

Sarah gathered up some of the spare bandages from a nearby mahogany table. “As it might be a while until the surgeon arrives, I rather think it’s time someone else’s wounds were attended to,” she said, giving Alex a pointed look. There was too much blood seeping through his shirtsleeve and his breeches as far as she was concerned. And she hadn’t failed to notice his grimace as he’d risen from the floor.

“Very well, Miss Lambert.” He followed her from the room, his hand at her back, and her heart tripped when he added in a velvet-soft voice, “I have something I need to speak to you about... In private.”

“Is this matter related to my promise to make you happy?” she asked, suddenly feeling breathless.

“No,” he replied, tugging her into the small parlor next door. “It’s about my desire to make you happy, my love.’

With a small kick, Alex closed the parlor door and gathered the woman he adored into his arms. There were a million other things he should be doing, but right at this very moment, he could think of nothing more pressing than his need to kiss Sarah. To show her how much he loved her and how grateful he was they were both alive and free to do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted.

Pushing his fingers into her tumbling hair, Alex lowered his head and ruthlessly ravished her mouth with lips and tongue until they were both breathless and clinging to each other.

When he raised his head, he took pleasure in watching her eyelids flutter open; her gaze was soft, her eyes a soft hazy blue reminding him of the sky above Loch Rannoch on a fine, misty morning.

“I love you,” she whispered. “When I saw you fighting with Malcolm ...” She swallowed and her eyes shimmered.

He swiped a single tear away from her cheek with his thumb. “I know. I felt the same way last night when I found out he’d taken you. But it’s all over now. We have each other, and very soon, you will be my lady-wife. My Lady Rannoch.”

“Yes.”

They kissed again and sometime later when Alex’s head was spinning, he reluctantly dragged his mouth from hers. “I’m afraid I have to sort out...certain things,” he said carefully. Like disposing of Tay’s body...

Sarah’s brow dipped into a frown. “I understand,” she said, fingering the silver buttons of his brocade waistcoat. “Can I help?”

Alex smiled and lifted his injured left arm. “Well, I suppose you could bandage these dashed cuts first.”

Sarah grimaced, her expression rueful. “Oh, good Lord. How could I have forgotten? All this time we’ve been kissing, you’ve still been bleeding. You must be in so much pain.”

“It’s all right.” Alex swooped down and retrieved the bandages from the Aubusson rug beneath their feet. “It’s not that bad. And I did distract you.”

“Yes, you did.” Sarah made him take off his waistcoat and shirt to examine his wounded bicep.

As he’d suspected, it was a superficial cut and the bleeding had almost stopped. Nevertheless, Sarah wrapped one of the linen bandages around it and he tied one firmly around his left thigh, over the top of his breeches. He needed to go out on Rannoch Moor with Dobson in search of a convenient peat bog, so there was no point in changing clothes when he was only going to get mucky again. His riding coat and greatcoat would easily hide the bloodstain on his shirtsleeve.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Sarah said, her gaze tracing over his naked chest and torso when he reached for his shirt from the back of a nearby chair.

The desire in her gaze had his cock twitching but he had to be strong. He shrugged on his shirt and pulled on his waistcoat. “I wish I didn’t either. But even though Captain Hamilton is an ally, a nobleman of some stature has just died here at Blackloch. To avoid any inconvenient questions, I think it’s best the Earl of Tay’s final resting place isn’t here.”

Sarah’s trouble gaze caught his. “You’re going to take his body out to Rannoch Moor, aren’t you?” she murmured.

He kissed her forehead. “Yes.”

Sarah’s expression hardened. “Good. He deserves an ignoble burial.”

“That, my love,” said Alex, “is just one more thing we both agree on.”