Page 83 of Bound to a Scot
Macfie swung his sword, a blow that would have taken Emmeline’s head clean off her shoulders. But Maddox threw himself in front of her, deflecting the blade with his own. The impact was hard, jolting his arm all the way up to the shoulder. He grimaced and launched a counterattack, his blade spinning and whirling in a deadly rhythm. Macfie’s face was tight, and he took a step back, defending himself, managing to parry every one of Maddox’s thrusts.
Pressing his advantage, Maddox waded in, scoring hits on Macfie that opened gashes in his arm and side, drawing a painedhiss from the man. His teeth clenched, the man did not give up. He instead moved forward, his steel flashing as he darted in with a series of feints and thrusts that Maddox barely avoided.
“Maddox look out!”
Emmeline’s voice rang loud in his ears and he spun just in time to see Macfie’s man Laith bearing down on him. He had just a moment to register the dagger in the man’s hand before it sunk into his side. Blood, warm and thick, spilled from the wound and sent a wave of pain through Maddox. He grunted and managed to twist away from the pale man, knocking him off balance. He brought his sword up and brought it down with a roar of pain, driving it through the flesh between his shoulder blades. Laith immediately went limp and fell to the deck of the birlinn, a thick scarlet pool spreading out beneath him.
With a howl of triumph, Macfie launched himself at Maddox, the tip of his blade sinking high into the left side of his chest. Maddox heard Emmeline screaming but it sounded a thousand miles away and rather than pain, all he felt was a numbness spreading through his body. Macfie’s eyes hovered mere inches from his, sparkling with a maniacal glee at his victory. Maddox wasn’t done though, and drove his own sword straight into the man’s belly.
The man’s eyes grew wide, and Maddox felt the rush of blood spilling over his hand and arm. He staggered backward, disengaging the blade from his belly. His sword hit the wooden deck with a clatter as he stared at the gaping wound in his gut in disbelief. Blood poured from his belly and pooled on the deckat his feet. Maddox turned to Emmeline and felt his heart swell even as his vision narrowed to a point. As the blood rushed from his own wounds, he felt himself stagger and then fall.
The water was hard and unyielding as he hit the surface. As he began to slip below though, he was overcome by a sense of calm and peace he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Emmeline and Cecilia were both safe. Macfie would never be able to harm them again. And that was good enough for him. His was a worthy sacrifice. Adair would be laird of the clan. The MacLachlans were safe with him. A small smile upon his lips, Maddox let the surprising warmth and comfort of the encroaching darkness swallow him.
As he surrendered to the darkness, Maddox felt hands seize him, roughly pulling him through the water. Pain gripped him.
“Dinnae ye dare die on me, ye bleedin’ donkey!”
Maddox opened his eyes and saw that Emmeline was in the water beside him. She had her arm wrapped around his chest, her sparkling green eyes locked onto his and an expression caught somewhere between fear and grief on her face. But her jaw was clenched in that look of stubborn determination he’d learned to adore.
“Ye’re in the water,” he said weakly.
“I suppose I am.”
“I’m proud of ye. I always kent ye could dae it.” He thought he said that out loud but was not sure.
A wan smile touched her lips, and her eyes flooded with tears. The pain of being yanked about ebbed again and the numbing cold began to take hold once more.
“’Tis too late fer me,” he said.
“Like hell it is,” she snapped.
Maddox heard another loud splash in the water and then Adair was there. Together, he and Emmeline managed to get Maddox out of the water and back onto the shore. As he was surrounded by strangers tending to his wounds, Emmeline held onto his hand tightly. He gave her a weak smile and squeezed her hand.
“I love ye, Emmeline. We should wed,” he said, his voice thready.
“Aye,” she said as her tears began to flow. “Dinnae die on me, and I’ll marry ye.”
Maddox smiled, that feeling of peace joined by contentment and then pure joy. He felt a happiness he’d never known before. And with thoughts of marrying Emmeline and being with her forever flashing through his mind, he finally slipped into the warm embrace of the dark.
Maddox groaned and when he moved, white hot bolts of pain shot through his body. His eyes fluttered open and he found himself staring at the ceiling of his bedchamber.
“I’m alive,” he said.
“Aye. Ye’re alive.”
Emmeline’s voice brought a smile to his lips, and he turned his head, wincing at the flash of pain that cut through his belly, sharper than any blade. She sat in a chair beside his bed, her face pale and drawn. Dark half-moons marred the flesh beneath eyes that were red and watery. She looked as if she hadn’t slept for days and had cried the entire time. But when he turned to her, the look of relief that spread across her face made her positively radiant.
“Ye saved me,” Maddox said, his throat dry, his voice cracking.
“Nay. ‘Twas the castle surgeons who saved ye.”
“How is everybody else? Did everybody make it out all right?”
She nodded. “Aye. Lorn and Adair took minor wounds, but that just gave them new stories tae tell, scars tae bond over and show off tae the lasses,” she said with a small laugh. “I think they’ve become best friends.”
“Of course,” Maddox said with a dry chuckle. “Cecilia?’
“Safe. She’s goin’ tae have a difficult time fer a while. ‘Tis tae be expected, what with watchin’ her faither die, of course,” she said with a touch of regret in her voice. “But she understands ‘twas her faither’s own doin’ that put him on that path. She doesnae blame ye. In fact, she’s grateful tae ye fer savin’ me life. She’ll be glad tae see ye awake. She’s been worried sick about ye.”
