“Look, Uncle, what’s she doing?”
By then Magdalene had grabbed up another handful and plastered the stew atop her head, the gravy dripping down her forehead and into her eyes. She blinked and grinned as maniacally as she could muster, and then grabbed the cup as if she intended to drink.
Yet the ale didn’t so much as wet her lips before she poured the rest down the front of her gown while onlookers once again rose to leave—Gabriel not stopping them this time. Instead he stared at her as if perplexed and displeased all rolled into one, Magdalene waving her empty cup in the air and laughing so crazily that his fist came crashing down upon the table.
She jumped.
Rhona and Keira jumped.
Grania jumped, too, and then rose to pull the wide-eyed girls from the bench and usher them quickly away.
Magdalene didn’t wait to see what Gabriel intended to do, and vaulted from the chair to run after them. In a flurry of silk she passed by the three, who gaped at her along with other people leaving the hall.
Everyone seemed to fall back, some women shrieking with alarm, which made Magdalene run even harder for a massive door opened to the sunshine.
She dodged a midnight-haired warrior reaching out to catch her—och, Cameron Campbell!—and plunged outside into the bailey, her only thought to reach the castle gates that yawned open. Aye, this was her chance to escape!
Yet she’d given no consideration to the mud, which sucked the slippers from her feet and slowed her down…despair filling her that her hastily conceived attempt to flee was over before it had begun.
She heard Gabriel’s stern voice behind her, commanding everyone to move out of the way. Then he caught her around the waist just as she sank to her knees in the muck reeking of horse manure.
“By God, woman, what am I tae do with you?”
She thought fleetingly of not resisting him, until something inside her seemed to shatter, Magdalene lashing out with her fists and kicking wildly even as he lifted her into the air.
She caught him on the chin and heard him gasp.
She kicked him near the groin and heard him curse.
Then she was wrapped in so steely an embrace that she couldn’t move a muscle, Gabriel’s expression truly ominous as he carried her back into the keep.
“No! I want Sister Agnes!” she screamed into his ear, the only way left to her to protest. “I want tae go home! Sister Agnes,help me!”
“The Reverend Mother is not here,” came Gabriel’s gruff response as he strode toward the stairway where Euna and Donella awaited them, the women wringing their hands. “Believe me, wife, if it was in my power tae return you this very hour tae the convent, I would do it! This is your home now, though you’ve disrupted the day as surely as my every waking moment since first I laid eyes upon you!”
He set her down so roughly at the bottom of the stairs that Magdalene gasped. Her two jailers were right there to grab her arms as Gabriel towered over her, his expression thunderous.
“Take her tae her room and clean her up. She stinks like a stable—Istink like a stable! Both of us covered in the muck that Seoras calls a marriage, damn him! If not for the good your dowry’s brought us—och, have I gone mad myself tae think I could ever reach you? Go on, get her out of my sight!”
His roared command echoing around them, Magdalene thought he might turn and strike the wall, his huge fists were clenched so tight.
Instead he turned and strode away toward his four captains, who stood silent and grim-faced near the entrance to the great hall.
A beast. A tyrant! Just as she’d thought from the first moment she had spiedhim, Magdalene twisting and fighting and choking on tears as Euna and Donella hauled her up the steps, the women grunting from the strain.
Chapter 11
“It’s been a week, Gabriel. Dinna you think you should check on her?” Conall queried, leaning upon his sword and wiping the sweat from his brow. “She’s your wife after all—”
“What do you know of wives?” Gabriel cut him off, wiping away his own sweat with the back of his hand. “You who’ve sworn never tae take a bride? Too many flowers tae be plucked and so little time? Wed yourself a lunatic and then I’ll welcome your advice. Raise your sword, man, we’ve rested long enough.”
“Mayhap not, according tae Clovis.” Standing near his brother, Cameron nodded toward the healer, who had appeared in an archway overlooking the bailey where Gabriel and his men had been training.
All morning. Without a stop.
Gabriel muttered a low curse and shot a glance at Clovis, but the scrawny fellow only lifted his pointed chin and seemed to be beckoning to him.
“It’s too soon for you tae work yourself so hard, Gabriel, and well you know it,” Alun said gruffly, shooting a glance at the healer while sopping away the sweat from his scarred face. “You dinna need him tae tell you as much. You might even make your shoulder worse if you go on like you’ve no injury at all. And I agree with Conall—”
