There would be no normal life with him married to a lunatic bride. There would be no safety for her in this place, either mad or sane. If not for Seoras scoffing at the mention of the curse and commanding that Magdalene must live with Gabriel under his roof, he would have packed her up this very morning to return her to the convent.
Instead he had moved to the great canopied bed as quietly as he could and eased Rhona from Magdalene’s embrace. Then he had deposited the sleeping child into Grania’s arms—the old nurse still possessing amazing strength and agility for her three score and five years of age.
As Grania had hustled away, Gabriel had indulged himself for just a moment by staring at Magdalene’s incomparable beauty—her golden hair spread like glossy silk upon the pillow, her fair features in sweet repose, and her lovely hands resting so peacefully on the covers.
Only a flicker of lush eyelashes and the sudden tension in one slim index finger made him wonder if she might be awake and only feigning sleep, but he didn’t allow himself to linger.
He had closed the door quietly behind him and gone to sink heavily upon the cot, sleep at last overcoming him, though the soft red of her lips had been his last conscious thought…
“Fool,” Gabriel berated himself under his breath. He crossed the hall in two strides and reached for the latch even as the door suddenly opened—but only wide enough for a flush-faced Donella to squeeze through. She stopped short and gasped in surprise to see him standing there.
“L-Laird?”
“Your mistress. Is she awake?”
“Oh, aye, Laird, for an hour or so at least. Time enough tae get her dressed, though it was no easy task for all her struggling, and she refused tae eat her breakfast. She flung the porridge at the wall and the mug of sheep’s milk went right after—och, such a mess!”
Gabriel found he couldn’t suppress a wry smile—so much for peaceful repose!—though he sobered at the sound of something crashing to the floor. “Is my wife alone in there?”
“No, no, Euna is with her still while I go find someone tae help us—unless mayhap you might assist with tying a rope around her waist?”
“A rope?”
“Aye, so we have some control over her, the wild thing! Euna thought she might enjoy a walk around the bailey and a bit of sunshine, but I’m thinking we should lock her in the room and leave her for all the trouble she’ll cost us—”
“Stand aside.”
Donella did so, hopping out of his way and looking more than relieved that Gabriel appeared to be taking matters into his own hands.
He wasn’t so sure about his ability to calm the situation though, as another crash sounded, followed by Euna’s shrill shriek of alarm. With a heavy sigh, Gabriel pushed open the door to a scene of pure bedlam.
Magdalene raced from one side of the room to the other with Euna in hot pursuit, the poor woman doing her best to dodge the missiles thrown her way.
A vase from the look of the shattered pieces on the floor. An expensive one that Malcolm had imported from France along with the monstrosity of a bed covered in wispy white feathers from ripped pillows.
A three-legged table with a fine inlay of colored tiles, toppled over, Euna almost tripping over it as Magdalene glanced frantically around her for something else to throw in her pursuer’s path.
Yet she stopped cold when she spied Gabriel standing inside the door, her skirt of emerald silk still swishing around her legs, her feet planted wide.
Small, trim feet still bandaged from the night before, making Gabriel wonder as a wince of pain crossed her face that her cuts might have begun to bleed from all the ruckus.
A face so flushed pink and stunningly beautiful to behold that he felt his breath catch deep in his chest, that same feeling stirring inside him.
A wonder. A sense of awe that such an incomparably lovely woman was his wedded wife, mad or no.
She was his and he was hers, an uncertain future ahead of them that would be made lighter or heavier by any action that he took from that moment onward.
Aye, he could lock her up in this room to punish her for such a tempestuous display…or he could try to earn some measure of trust from this child-woman who stared at him now with her arresting green eyes as if gauging whether to scream or try to flee.
She’s the sweetest child most times…
Aye, those had been Sister Agnes’s words, and if Gabriel could figure out how best to reach her, to soothe her, to speak to her, mayhap she would act the sweetest child for him, too—at least most times.
“Maggie…it was a kind thing you did for my niece Rhona tae comfort her during the storm. I came tae thank you—but first you must tell me. Are your feet feeling better? I’d be happy tae tend tae them for you again. I’ll send Donella straightway tae fetch fresh poultice and bandages from Clovis, my healer. Would that please you?”
His voice as low and calming as he could make it, Gabriel waited, almost holding his breath, while Magdalene blinked at him as if taken by surprise. Her gaze flicked from him to Euna, to Donella and then back at his face again.
“M-my feet?”
