had to remind himself that Madelyne was only a woman, and the strangest things did seem to upset the weaker sex. He also weighed all that he'd put Madelyne through in the past two days. 'I've killed many more,' he said, thinking to ease her conscience.
His plan failed. 'I don't care if you've killed legions of soldiers,' Madelyne announced. 'You don't have a soul, so it doesn't matter how many lives you take.'
Duncan didn't have a ready answer to that statement. He realized that it was pointless to argue with her. Madelyne was too distraught to think logically, and surely just as exhausted. Why, she was so upset, she couldn't even raise her voice to him.
Duncan cradled her in his arms, tightening his grip until she stopped struggling. With a weary sigh he muttered, more to himself than to her, 'What am I to do with you?'
Madelyne heard him, and her answer was swift. 'I don't care what you do with me.' She jerked her head back and looked up at him. Madelyne noticed the jagged cut just below Duncan 's right eye then. She used the cuff of her gown to mop the stream of blood away, but she contradicted her gentle action with angry words. 'You can leave me here, or you can kill me,' she informed him as she dabbed at the edges of his cut. 'Nothing you do makes any difference to me. You shouldn't have taken me with you, Duncan.'
'Your brother came after you,' Duncan pointed out.
'He did not,' Madelyne contradicted him. 'He came after you because you destroyed his home. He doesn't care about me. If you'd only open your mind, I know I could convince you of the truth. But you are too stubborn to listen to anyone. I find it pointless to speak to you. Aye, pointless! I vow I'll never speak to you again.'
Her tirade took the last of her strength. Madelyne finished cleaning his abrasion as best she could and then sagged against his chest, dismissing him.
Lady Madelyne was a paradox. Duncan was nearly undone by the tender way she touched his face when she tried to repair his injury. Duncan didn't think she had even been aware of what she was doing. He suddenly remembered how Madelyne had faced Gilard when they were back in Louddon's fortress. Aye, she'd been a contradiction then too. Madelyne had given Gilard a serene look while he shouted his frustration, yet all the while she'd clung to Duncan 's hand.
Now she raged at him while she ministered to him. Duncan sighed again. He rested his chin against the top of Madelyne's head and wondered how in God's name such a gentle woman could be related to the devil.
The numbness was wearing thin. Now that the surge of anger had abandoned her, Madelyne's thigh began to throb painfully. Her cloak hid the damage from Duncan. She believed he was unaware of her injury and found perverse satisfaction over that fact. It was an illogical reaction but Madelyne couldn't seem to think with much reason. She was suddenly so tired, so hungry, and in such pain, she couldn't think at all.
The soldiers joined their leader and within minutes they were headed for the Wexton fortress. An hour later it became gritty determination that kept Madelyne from voicing complaint.
Duncan 's hand accidentally brushed against her injured thigh. Her cloak and gown offered little cushion against the burning agony. Madelyne held her scream. She slapped his hand away, but the fire from his touch lingered, inflaming the injury to an excruciating level.
Madelyne knew she was going to be sick. 'We must stop for a moment,' she told Duncan. She wanted to scream at him, to weep, too, but she had vowed he wouldn't destroy what was left of her gentle disposition.
Madelyne knew he'd heard her. His nod acknowledged that he had, yet they continued to ride, and after a few more minutes she came to the conclusion he had decided to ignore her request.
What an inhuman beast he was! Though it offered her little comfort, she mentally listed all the vile names she wished to yell at him. She summoned up every foul word she could remember, though her vocabulary of crude words was limited. It satisfied her, until she realized she was probably sinking to Duncan 's level. Damn, she was a gentle woman.
Her stomach wouldn't settle. Madelyne remembered her vow never to speak to him again, but she was forced, by circumstances, to repeat her request. 'If you don't stop, I'm going to be sick all over you.'
Her threat got an immediate reaction. Duncan raised his hand, giving the order to halt. He was off his horse and lifting Madelyne to the ground before she could brace herself in preparation.
'Why are we stopping?' The question came from Gilard, who had also dismounted and was hurrying over to his brother. 'We're almost home.'
'Lady Madelyne,' Duncan answered, giving Gilard no further information.
Madelyne had already begun the torturous walk toward the privacy the trees offered, but she paused when she heard Gilard's question. 'You can just stand there and wait for me, Gilard.'
It sounded like an order. Gilard raised an eyebrow in surprise, turning to his brother. Duncan was frowning as he watched Madelyne, and Gilard concluded his brother was irritated by the way Madelyne had just spoken to him. 'She has been through an ordeal,' Gilard rushed out in excuse, lest Duncan decide to retaliate.
Duncan shook his head. He continued to watch Madelyne until she had disappeared into the forest. 'Something's wrong,' he muttered, frowning as he tried to figure out what was bothering him.
Gilard sighed. 'She is ill perhaps?'
'And, and she threatened to…' Duncan didn't finish his comment, but started out after Madelyne.
Gilard tried to stay him with his hand. 'Give her some privacy, Duncan. She'll return to us,' he said. 'There isn't anyplace she can hide,' he reasoned.
Duncan shook his brother's hand away. He'd seen the look of pain in Madelyne's eyes, noticed, too, the extreme stiffness in her gait. Duncan instinctively knew an unsettled stomach wasn't the cause. She wouldn't have favored her right side if that was the case. And if she was about to throw up, she would have run, not walked away from the soldiers. Nay, something was wrong and Duncan meant to find out what it was.
He found her leaning against the side of a gnarled oak tree, her head bent. Duncan stopped, not wishing to invade upon her privacy. Madelyne was weeping. He watched as she slowly lifted the cloak away and let it drop to the ground. And then he understood the true reason for her distress. The left side of her gown was shredded to the hem, and soaked with blood.
Duncan didn't realize he'd shouted until Madelyne let out a frightened whimper. She didn't have the strength to back away from him, nor did she fight him when he forced her hands away from her thigh and knelt down at her side.
When Duncan viewed the damage, he was filled with such rage, his hands shook as he pried the garment away. Dried blood made it a slow task. Duncan 's hands were big and awkward and he was trying to be as gentle as possible.
The injury was deep, nearly as long as his forearm, and embedded with dirt. It would need to be cleaned and sewn together.
'Ah, Madelyne,' Duncan whispered, his voice gruff. 'Who did this to you?'
His voice sounded like a warm caress, his sympathy obvious. Madelyne knew she'd start crying again if he showed her any more kindness. Aye, her control would break then, just like one of the brittle branches she was clinging to now.
Madelyne wouldn't allow it. 'I don't want your sympathy, Duncan.' She straightened her shoulders and tried to give him a look of dismissal. 'Take your hands off my leg. It isn't decent.'
Duncan was so surprised by the show of authority, he almost smiled. He glanced up, saw the fire in her eyes. Duncan knew then what she was trying to do. Pride had become her defense. He'd already noticed how Madelyne valued control.
Looking back at her injury, he realized there was little to be done about it now. He decided then to let Madelyne have her way.
Duncan forced a gruff voice when he stood up and answered her. 'You'll get no sympathy from me, Madelyne. I'm like a wolf. I don't suffer human emotions.'
Madelyne didn't answer him, but her eyes widened over his comment. Duncan smiled and knelt down again.
'Leave me alone.'
'Nay,' Duncan replied, his voice mild. He pulled his dagger free and began to cut a long strip of her gown.
'You are ruining my gown,' Madelyne muttered.
'For God's sake, Madelyne, your gown is already ruined,' Duncan answered.
