introduced her.
Dear God, he was proud of her. She appeared to be only mildly curious as she studied each man's face, and when she finished her inspection, she glanced at Connor one last time, bowed to him, and then turned around and walked away with all the dignity and regal bearing of a princess.
Everyone watched her leave. Several servants waited by the side of the keep for their mistress, and as Brenna walked past them, one called out to her.
'Mi'lady, what are the men looking at?'
'Just a dead horse,' she called out. 'Nothing more.'
She continued on at a leisurely pace, and only when she had disappeared around the corner did Hugh's soldiers turn back to Connor. They were staggered by the grin they saw on Laird MacAlister's face.
The senior of the emissaries addressed the laird. 'Hugh is concerned you'll decide he had something to do with this.'
Crispin stepped forward to answer for his laird. He towered over the soldier, forcing the man to take a hasty step back.
'Hugh has no reason to be concerned. Our laird knows who sent the message.'
'You've completed your errand,' Quinlan announced. 'Leave now and let us get back to important matters.'
Several of the MacAlister warriors nodded their agreement, and the messenger noted they were all smiling like their laird.
'Do I report your laird was inconvenienced and nothing more?'
'Report what you will,' Connor answered. 'It makes no difference to me.'
'Do you want us to take the remains with us?'
'Leave it for our dogs,' Crispin suggested.
Connor nodded before he walked away.
The messenger wouldn't forget what he had witnessed, and when he stood before his laird, he would report only that Laird MacAlister had been vastly amused by the enemy's message.
Brenna made it to the bedroom before she started gagging. She was able to keep the food in her stomach by taking deep breaths and forcing herself to block the image of Gilly.
When her nausea slowly subsided, she sat down on the side of the bed, gripped her hands together in her lap, and tried to make sense out of the horror. She didn't weep, for mourning, she believed, should be reserved for men, not animals, and it became a measure of her control that she not give in to the desire.
Poor Gilly. Her faithful mare had never done anyone any harm. The docile, obedient pet had brought Brenna such joy over the years, and should have been retired to a field of clover to die when her time came. To think that she had been mutilated and then dragged halfway up a mountain was nearly too horrible to accept.
She prayed the gentle pet had died quickly before the sadistic killers had used their knives and hatchets on her. Who would do such a vile, contemptible thing? What kind of monster would destroy one of God's gentle creatures with such malicious intent?
MacNare. He must be behind the deed. He must have been in a rage all the while he'd chased after Connor and her, and when he happened upon Gilly, he turned his wrath against her. Until today, Brenna hadn't known men were capable of such horrendous cruelty. When her father had decreed she would marry
MacNare, she remembered she'd been angry and worried. But she hadn't been truly afraid of the laird.
She was terrified of him now. If this is what he would do to an animal, what would he do to a man? The thought led to another more terrifying one. If Connor hadn't come for her when he did, she would be married to the demon now. The realization made her start gagging again.
She didn't know how long she sat on the bed thinking about what had happened, but the room was dark by the time Connor came inside. She neither looked at him nor spoke to him and was thankful for his silence, because she knew she wouldn't be able to talk about Gilly just yet.
After giving her a quick glance to make certain she was all right, he bolted the door behind him, then crossed to the hearth to start a fire blazing. He kept expecting her to shout at him, and when she remained silent, he grew even more worried. He knew she must be angry with him because he had insisted on leaving Gilly behind. He didn't want Brenna to keep her anger inside. The sooner she got it out in the open, the sooner she could sleep again.
Women, his brother had told him, had the unique ability to rid themselves of their anger simply by acknowledging it. Men weren't able to do such a thing. Anger would often fester inside the hearts of warriors for years and years, until they found a way to right the wrong done to them. Connor wouldn't have had it any other way.
'You're shivering. Come and stand by the fire.'
She surprised him by obeying. As soon as she crossed the chamber, he pulled her into his arms, told her to look up at him, and then gave her permission to shout at him.
'I don't want to shout at you,' she said, puzzled.
'I know you're angry with me. You'll tell me about it now and get rid of it.'
'I'm not angry with you.'
'I made the decision to leave your horse behind.'
'Yes, but it was necessary.'
She turned away from him and stared into the flames. 'MacNare's responsible.'
'Yes.'
'He took pleasure in what he did to Gilly. Didn't he?'
'Don't think about it.'
'Answer me.' Her voice was sharper than she intended, but Connor didn't seem to be at all bothered by it. His response was quite mild when he agreed with her.
'Yes, I'm sure he took pleasure in mutilating the horse.'
'I hope Gilly died quickly before… Did she?'
He looked her right in the eye while he lied to her. 'Yes.'
'How can you know for certain?'
'I know.' He was emphatic enough for her to think he was telling her the truth.
'I shouldn't have left the braided ribbons dressing her mane. That's how he knew she belonged to a woman, isn't it?'
'They would have known anyway. She was smaller than any of ours.'
Connor was taking it all in stride. She pulled out of his arms and looked up at his face again but couldn't see any anger there at all.
'You're very calm about it all, aren't you? Don't you want to shout?' she asked.
'Would such a reaction change what happened?'
She shook her head. She knew he was right. Ranting and raving wouldn't bring Gilly back to her. Still, the lack of emotion Connor was showing made her feel all the more alone with her anger and her terror.
'Why did MacNare go to such trouble to send what was left of Gilly to us?'
'He wanted me to see what he'd done. Go to bed now. You need your rest.'
'Was it a message for you or for me?'
'Me.'
'Gilly belonged to me.'
'But you belong to me,' he reasoned.
'Was it a message of what's to come?'
'Hugh's soldiers said MacNare called it a gift,' he told her. He forced her closer to him again and began to remove her clothes.
She didn't resist until he tried to take her chemise off her. 'I'll be cold.'
He wouldn't be deterred. 'I'll keep you warm tonight. I notice you're still wearing the medallion your father gave you. I told you to throw it away,' he reminded her. He really didn't care what she did with the wooden disk, now that he understood her better and knew she wasn't wearing it to insult him. It seemed harmless enough.
'I didn't do it.'
'Do what?'
'Throw it away.'
