Page 146 of Bride of Fire
She smiled through her tears. “I’m sure you’re right.” She placed a tender hand on the lad’s shoulder. “At leastyoubelieve me, don’t you, Danald?”
What else could the lad say? “Sure, m’lady.”
She reached out to stroke the full length of the babe’s back with her knuckles. “I’ll confess,” she whispered. “I miss holding the wee babe.”
He said nothing. When her hand slipped farther down to contact Danald’s forearm, she let her touch linger.
“You wouldn’t…you wouldn’t let me hold him? Just for a moment? I promise I won’t move from this spot.”
Danald’s brows came together with worry. “I don’t know, m’lady. The laird—”
“I won’t tell him. It can be our secret.” She bit her lip, letting the tears well in her eyes. “It may be the last time I can hold my son.”
Before he could answer, the doors to the great hall crashed inward, slamming against the walls and bringing the room to silence. In strode that infuriating, bow-wielding wench to waylay Alicia’s plans.
Grinding her teeth in frustration, she withdrew from Danald and the infant. She’d have to adjust her strategy. She sank into the shadows to wait.
Chapter 62
“Hear me!” Jenefer called out, securing the door behind her and holding a hand up for quiet. “I bring grave tidings.”
The room rapidly silenced. But when she looked into the fearful faces of the clanswomen, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. These weren’t the Rivenloch maids, who were accustomed to staring death in the face. They were ordinary women—wives, mothers, milkmaids. Living in the remote Highlands, they’d probably never endured a siege or waged a war.
Still, they were strong, as tough as thistles. She could see that by their callused hands and determined faces.
“’Tis the English who storm our gates.”
Gasps and epithets filled the hall.
She waited for them to silence.
“Ladies of mac Giric, I need your aid. Thelairdneeds your aid,” she said. “I won’t lie to you. The English have a stockpile of resources. More soldiers. More weapons. And more experience. But what they don’t have is the courage and heart of the clan mac Giric. And sometimes that’s more important than experience.”
She perused the faces before her. They were looking at her with trust. She didn’t want to put them in danger. But she needed their cooperation.
“Those are our men out there, she said. Then she paused, realizing what she’d said.Ourmen. No matter that she’d known Morgan only a few days, that he belonged to another, that their love was hopeless. She still thought of him as hers.
Straightening with pride, she said, “They need our help. And we can give it. Now is your chance. Show me what Highland lasses are made of.”
Her challenge got their attention.
“Do you have the courage to fight alongside your kinsmen?” she asked. “Or will you cower here behind closed doors?”
A few took offense at her remarks and stepped forward.
“I’ll fight.”
“I don’t cower.”
“I can throw a punch as well as any man.”
Several lasses chimed in in agreement.
“What about the rest of you?” she asked. “Will you let the English spill the blood of good Scots soldiers? Or are you brave enough to spit in their faces?”
By the snarls of outrage, Jenefer quickly learned that Highlanders had even less tolerance than Lowlanders for the English.
But despite their growing enthusiasm for the fight, Jenefer wouldn’t put the lasses’ lives at risk. She wasn’t a fool. They had no battle experience. And their laird would have her neck if she endangered his clanswomen.
