Perhaps if she stayed he could figure out how to mend the rift between them... figure out what he needed to do to make her love him.

A high-pitched scream pierced the darkness.

Nicholas hauled on Narcissus's reins, bringing the horse to a mud-spewinghalt. He listened. Nothing but the sound of the wind and the heavy slap of therain echoed in his ears.

Where had the voice come from? The wind could be deceptive, making voicesfrom great distances sound near or close voices sound distant.

"Ian!"

Nicholas heard the voice clearly that time. Sheridan. His heart slammedinto his ribs.

Dear God. The bridge.

"Yah!" Nicholas dug his heels into Narcissus's flanks, and they took off atbreakneck speed down the incline heading for the bridge.

Nicholas saw the collapsed wooden bridge and the small drenched figurekneeling by the water's edge. He knew in an instant it was Sheridan. Reliefflooded him.

Nicholas jumped off Narcissus's back before the horse had come to a halt.He dropped down next to Sheridan and saw Ian McDonough pinned beneath a heavylength of bridge, the swollen river rushing over his head as he tried to usehis one free hand to heave the weight off him.

Nicholas knew the pressure of the water against the broken piece of thebridge added more weight. It wouldn't budge without the use of two good arms.

Wild-eyed, Sheridan glanced in Nicholas's direction. For a moment, hewondered if she recognized him. Then she said two words that tore at his gut.

"Save him."

For the briefest moment, Nicholas thought, She loves him. Let the bastarddrown. But Nicholas knew he could never leave a man to die.

He jumped to his feet. Briefly, his gaze locked with McDonough's. Nopleading for mercy radiated from the man's eyes. He asked for no quarter andwas prepared to die if need be.

Nicholas plunged into the icy water, swimming against the fierce current.Coming up beside the collapsed section of the bridge, he sucked in a breath ofair and dived under the water. He could barely see, but it didn't matter. Heknew what had to be done.

McDonough lay motionless in the water. Time was running out. If the coldwater didn't kill the man, drowning would.

Nicholas braced his feet into the shifting sand and mud, trying to findpurchase. Then he heaved his back against one of the thick beams of wood. Itbarely budged. The ends of the bridge had sunk into the mud.

Come on, God damn it! He heaved again and again and again until at last thesection gave way. He shot to the surface, gasping for breath.

McDonough didn't move. Nicholas grabbed the man's arm and hoisted him overhis shoulder, battling the current and McDonough's weight. He clutched one ofthe planks jutting out to brace himself, moving slowly but steadily toward theembankment.

"Take my hand!"

Nicholas glanced up and saw Sheridan, one arm looped around the bridge'spost, her other arm outstretched. Nicholas ignored her offer, knowing he'donly pull her in.

He made it to the embankment and shoved McDonough onto solid ground.Nicholas crawled up beside him, breath rasping through his lungs.

McDonough twitched, then began coughing up water. Sheridan took Ian's headin her lap, wiping the hair from his face, tears rolling down her cheeks,mingling with the rain as she looked up, her beautiful lavender eyes piercingNicholas's soul.

"Thank you," she said in a choked voice.

And Nicholas knew he had lost her.

*Chapter Twenty-three*

The wind flung open the front door as soon as Nicholas turned the knob,sending the heavy oak portal crashing into the wall and startling Emery, whoscuttled toward the staircase.

"Oh, thank heavens you're back, sir!" Emery blared, a hand pressed over hisheart.

Nicholas took Sheridan by the arm, pulling her nearly frozen form furtherinto the vestibule. Water ran off both of them and puddled at their feet. Hewent to remove her thin cloak, but she wouldn't let him.

"Jules," she said, her teeth chattering. "I have to go to Jules."

"Get into dry clothes first."

She stared at him, her large violet eyes framed by wet black lashes,luminous in her pale face, peering into his soul as no other woman ever had.God, how he loved her. Her spirit. Her fire.

He wanted to kiss her, to hold her close and thank God for keeping hersafe. Yet he imagined she would push him away. Reject what he offered. Itwould be no less than he deserved after how he had treated her.

Nicholas knew, as he did at the bridge, that Sheridan loved McDonough. Theway she had held the man tenderly in her arms, the tears, those actions toldtheir own story.

His gut wrenched as she backed away from him, a hunted expression on herface. She turned sharply and flew toward the stairs, her movements hampered byher sodden clothes.

"Danny!" he called after her.

She ignored him.

Nicholas started forward, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

"Let her go."

He shrugged off the hand and swung around to face Ian McDonough.

Nicholas's fists clenched at his side, the reaction a purely emotional one,the desire to fight for the woman he loved gnawing at him, a burning need tohaul McDonough back to the bridge and return the man's body to the ragingflood.

""I may have pulled your miserable hide from the water," Nicholas growledbetween gritted teeth, "but it doesn't mean anything has changed. I only savedyou because of Sheridan, because ... she cares for you."

McDonough returned Nicholas's glare. "Aye, she cares for me, but not in theway ye're thinkin'."

Nicholas and Ian faced each other, nearly identical in build and power, adangerous undercurrent flowing between them.

Emery's stooped figure stepped in between them. "Sir, I must--"

Nicholas cut him off and said to McDonough, "If it's a fight you want, I'dbe more than happy to oblige you."

"And I'd be more than happy to pummel ye intae the floor after what ye'vedone tae Danny. If I didna have to deal with the girl's wrath for beatin' yetae within an inch of yer life, I'd do that very thing."

"Don't make excuses, McDonough."

"Sir," Emery tried to interject when Nicholas took a step toward Ian.

" Tis nae an excuse, ye thick-skulled whelp!" Ian took a step towardNicholas.

Emery was jammed between their two hulking forms. "Sir, please!" the butlerprotested.

"I never touched the lass," McDonough growled, "but I won't say I didnawant tae. She is a beautiful and spirited girl. A perfect match for aHighlander. But she would never have me. For some godforsaken reason, 'tis yeshe wants." He shook his head. "Never try tae figure out the mind of afemale."

Nicholas scowled. "Why should I believe a damned word that comes out ofyour mouth?"

McDonough cocked a brow. "Why? Because I'd enjoy rabbin' her feelings forme in yer stupid face, that's why. If a lass like Danny loved me, I'd becrowin' it from the rooftop, ye arrogant bastard."

"That bloody well tears it! Come on, you whoreson, take a swing!"

McDonough shook his head. "Ye first."

"Fine!" Nicholas's fist flew out, connecting solidly with the man's face,sending the burly Scotsman reeling backward, sliding across the floor. "Getup!"

McDonough put a hand to his injured face and tested his jaw. Finding itstill attached, he smiled broadly. "Ye do love the lass. 'Tis as much as Isuspected."

"Damn you! Get the hell up and fight!"

"I canna fight a man for lovin' a woman and tryin' tae protect her fromanother man."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

McDonough chuckled. "Aye, lad. I do. 'Tis nae me Danny girl loves ... butye."

"No, she doesn't. Now stop changing the subject and fight me!"

"I'll nae be fightin' ye. And ye'll nae be fightin' me."

"Don't count on it."

McDonough sighed as he rose from the floor and dusted himself off. " 'Tis ablind and foolish man ye are. Ye waste yer energies on the wrong things. Yeshould be upstairs with the lass mendin' what ye've broken and puttin' thissecond chance ye've been given tae proper use instead of expendin' valuabletime darin' someone tae knock the chip off yer shoulder--which I'll gladly doat some other time."

Nicholas glanced toward the stairs. He wanted to believe Sheridan cared forhim even as his inner voice laughed at his ignorance, taunting him that he letSheridan lead him around by the nose--just as his father had let his motherdo.

Yet Jules's words echoed in Nicholas's ears.

I always thought you were the sensitive one, the one who would understandlove when it found you, not condemn it or order it to your specification, butembrace it and count yourself as one of the lucky.

Nicholas realized much of what his cousin said was true. He had tried to order a woman to his specifications, controlling every facet, calculatingevery variable, refusing to allow love to take its natural course.

How could he condemn Sheridan for the child she carried? He hadn't offered her anything, certainly not himself. Now that his eyes were beginning to open, he saw all the times she had taken the chance and given freely of herself, offered her love, and he had turned it aside.

"Go on, man," McDonough urged, humor tingeing his voice.

Nicholas needed no help from the Scottish cur, even if the bastard wasright. Nicholas had to talk to Sheridan, and he wouldn't let her leave untilhe did.

He strode purposefully toward the stairs ... until a piercing cry echoedthrough the house, stopping Nicholas in his tracks and raising the hair on theback of his neck.

He started as a bony hand settled on his shoulder. His gaze swung aroundand collided with Emery's. "I tried to tell you, sir."

"Tell me what?" Nicholas demanded.

"Her Grace."

Nicholas gripped Emery's upper arms, not realizing how tightly he held theman. "What about her?"

"She's having her baby."

"Sweet Jesus." Nicholas pushed away from Emery and took the stairs two at atime. He had yet to reach the landing when the front door flew open, cold windswirling into the circular foyer as a large figure draped in black strodeacross the threshold. "William?"

"Where is she?" his friend boomed. "Where is my wife?"

Sheridan dropped down beside Jules's bed, clasping her friend's hand tohelp her through the pain. "Ssh," she soothed. "I'm here now."

Wild eyes flashed Sheridan's way. "Danny?" Jules's voice sounded weak. Herface was pale and sweat beaded her brow.

"Aye. 'Tis me. Ye didn't think I'd leave me best friend in her time ofneed, did ye now?" Sheridan didn't want to think about the fact that she hadleft, that her stubbornness had taken her away when Jules needed her most.

Tears began rolling down Jules's face. "I was alone. I called for you, butyou didn't come. I called for Nicky and ... and he didn't come. Oh, God." Shesobbed brokenly. "I was so afraid."

Sheridan smiled gently. " 'Tis all right. I'm here now. Ye have no more tofear. I'm sorry I ever left ye. I'm goin' to take care of ye now, so ye musttry to stay calm for the babe. Will ye do that for me?"

Weakly, Jules nodded.

Sheridan glanced up at Ho-Sing, who stood sentinel at Jules's bedside whenno one else had been there, his bearing so rigid one might mistake him for awax effigy.

Sheridan knew it was not an old Chinese custom that caused him to remain rooted to Jules's side, but something far simpler. Pure, undiluted fear. Helooked as scared as Jules.

Sheridan rose and faced him. "Thank ye for stayin' with her."

"Ho-Sing very glad to see Missy." He swallowed and darted a quick glance atJules. "Round missy in very much pain. Ho-Sing feel weak in head, ten thumbson hand. Not know what to do. Never deliver baby."

"Ye were here for her. That is the most important thing. Now ye can be myhelper."

His eyes widened to saucers. "Ho-Sing ... help with baby? Ho-Sing very wiseAsian man, but go wobbly in knees at women in pain."

Sheridan shook her head. Apparently, men had one malady in common. Apregnant woman felled them. Ask them to go into battle and lop off theirenemy's head, this they did with zeal. Ask them to help deliver a baby, andthey trip over each other in their attempt to flee.

"Ye can do it, Ho-Sing."

Ho-Sing looked doubtful, but he nodded his head nonetheless.