Aleck’s head bobbed, and he started awake. Drawing a long breath, he looked at his ward and noted that she still slept. His muscles felt cramped. Needing to stretch, he rose from the chair and quietly crossed to the window. A dusky pink glow striped the horizon, announcing the dawn. Shortly, the hazy red globe peeked above the distant hills. Aleck briefly viewed nature’s wondrous spectacle. Then the sound of men’s voices drew his attention to the yard below.
Saddled horses were being led from inside the stables and gathered from the pens. The reins for each were handed off, one by one, and Sir John and his men mounted their steeds. One of them helped Felicia climb astride her own horse as her trunks were placed in a cart. Within a few short minutes, the whole rode through the gates and away from the castle, heading south toward London. Aleck felt relieved to see them go, especially his former mistress. On a sigh, he rolled his head along his shoulders, releasing the tension that had settled in his neck. Now all he had to worry about was James’s reaction. That, and his ward, of course.
From the bed, Chandra peered at him through lowered lashes. Apparently he’d spent the entire night in the chair. She hoped he suffered for it, too. He drew another long breath, then expelled it. His hand rose to massage the nape of his neck, and he turned toward her; Chandra pretended to sleep.
The door leading into the corridor creaked open, and a plump woman stepped into the room with Chandra’s clothes draped over one arm. Her possessions appeared clean, she marked, the tunic repaired. The newcomer stopped at the bed’s foot and placed the folded articles on a low chest, the Morgan plaid atop them. After a brief glance at Chandra, she ambled on toward the window. Whispered words were exchanged between the woman and Aleck, then on a nod, he moved toward another door and disappeared through it, the panel closing behind him.
“You can stop pretending and open your eyes, deary,” the woman said in a normal tone of voice. “Master Aleck has gone to get some rest. He insisted on staying with you the night through, but old Winnie will keep you company now.” Chandra remained unresponsive. “Oh, tosh, girl,” Winnie admonished, “having raised six children of my own and then overseeing Master Aleck’s upbringing, do you think I don’t know when someone’s feigning sleep? My brood used the trick hoping to avoid the first tasks of the day, especially during the winter. It didn’t work. Of course, for those who insisted on ignoring me—the rascals wanted to dally under the covers the day long—I always had a quick solution.”
Through the tiny slits of her lashes, Chandra watched Winnie cross to the pitcher on the washstand, pick it up, and again come toward the bed. Realizing her intent, Chandra popped to a sitting position. “You wouldn’t dare … would you?”
A smile split Winnie’s face as the pitcher quickly changed directions. “’Tis something you’ll never know, but at least I’m now aware that you are not altogether slow of wit.” Water splashed into the basin atop the washstand, then Winnie dipped a cloth into the cool liquid and wrung it out. “Here, wipe the sleep from your eyes.”
The cloth dropped from the woman’s fingers; Chandra caught it. “I am far from being slow-witted,” she insisted, eyeing the woman.
“That, milady, is something which remains to be seen.”
Chapter
8
Three days later, as Chandra paced in her room, which by her own choosing had become her prison, she still puzzled over Winnie’s words.
“Slow of wit, indeed,” she said to the four walls. Under normal circumstances, such an action might be considered a bit irregular, but sequestered as she was, she longed to hear a human voice, even if it was her own.
Admittedly, the lack of contact with those at Montbourne had been her own doing, for despite her guardian’s repeated requests that she join him at meals or walk with him inside the castle compound, she’d refused all such invitations. Other than seeing a servant or two each day when her meals were delivered to her door or while her bath was prepared, she had to create her own diversions, which were few. The days were long and tedious for a woman accustomed to being quite active, and she quickly grew weary of her self-imposed seclusion.
“Slow of wit, indeed,” she repeated, then wondered if she actually might be.
Chandra stopped in front of the window and looked out over the grounds. She wanted to be gone from here, but there seemed to be no plausible way of escape. The walls were too high, the guards too numerous. No one could possibly get in or out of the castle unless they were meant to. Knowing as much, she conceded she had but one recourse. Somehow she had to persuade her guardian to set her free. To do that, she needed to speak with him.
Chandra dreaded the prospect of again meeting him face to face, for she feared her abhorrence of him would spew forth, if not from her lips, then by way of her eyes, ruining her chance at freedom. Yet no other option existed. Somehow she had to gain control of her emotions; then, with her words and actions carefully orchestrated, she’d plead her case. If good fortune shone upon her, she’d soon be on her way home to Scotland, to the Highlands, to Morgan lands and the people she loved and longed to see. She imagined they worried about her and impatiently awaited her return. All except Devin, she thought, her sorrow welling anew. Damn him! she cursed Aleck silently, wishing she’d done him in when she’d had the chance. Damn him to hell!
Refusing to give way to tears, Chandra fought them back. This was her last hope, she knew. She must face him. Quickly she gauged the angle of the sun. It was nearly time for dinner, which was served at eleven. Dashing to the basin, she splashed clear water onto her face. After she’d patted it dry, she took up a hand mirror, then lightly pinched her cheeks, for she’d grown pale from lack of sunlight and fresh air.
A brush, procured earlier by Winnie from the wealth of supplies stored at Montbourne, swiftly stroked through her unbound hair. She straightened her clothing and smoothed the Morgan plaid beneath her belt, then rushed to the door. Twisting the latch, she was startled to find the thing locked. She wondered, had it always been so? A tiny frown marred her brow, and after a moment’s deliberation, she decided it had. She’d not known it, though, because until now she’d never attempted to venture from her room.
A long breath flowed from between Chandra’s lips, marking her exasperation. Unknowingly she’d been kept prisoner in this vast, finely appointed chamber. Incarcerated in such luxurious surroundings, she could hardly complain. Yet it vexed her that her rebellious action, her self-imposed seclusion, was not fully self-imposed at all. Had the door been locked because he’d anticipated she’d make another break for freedom, or had he feared a second attempt on his life, her next one, in all likelihood, fatal? Since the secured entry prevented her from accomplishing either, she doubted he’d lost much sleep over what she might or might not have done.
Eyeing the door across the way—the one she’d seen Aleck slip through—she moved toward it. Amazingly, when she tried the handle, the latch gave way. The heavy wood panel swung open, and she stared into a small room. A long, narrow table stood against the wall to her right. Dazzling multicolored lights speckled the entire area as the sun beat against a large stained-glass window set in the opposite wall, a lone chair positioned in front of it. A strip of finely woven carpet ran the floor, leading from her door to another. Chandra followed the soft woolen path, then released the second door’s latch.
On quiet hinges, the door opened to reveal an even larger chamber than her own. Chandra peered around the door’s edge, her teeth tracking nervously along her lower lip. Dared she enter? Knowing it was someone else’s apartment, she hesitated and viewed the area anew. The furnishings, consisting of chests, tables, chairs, several hanging cupboards, and a huge canopied bed, were of the finest wood, all highly polished. As in her own room, tapestries covered the gray stone walls, adding warmth, while thick carpets dotted the floor. “’Tis grand,” she said to herself on a mere whisper. Once again, she regarded the large bed.
Centered on the headboard was a crest. The ornate embellishment sported tw
o hawks, arrows clutched in their powerful feet, and the word Montbourne carved into a ribbon of wood that scrolled beneath the whole. His room, she realized, attempting to quietly back away, but movement caught her eye, and the man in her thoughts came into view. Holding her breath, Chandra prayed she’d not be spotted.
Aleck stopped beside the bed, unaware that Chandra stood only yards away, watching him. In two quick moves his shirt came up over his head, to reveal a striking emerald-encrusted medallion. The shirt fell to the mattress, and he crossed to the basin. Water splashed onto his face and arms, droplets flecking his chest. With a piece of clean toweling in hand, he turned around and began patting his skin dry.
The cloth moved from his face down over his chest, its breadth richly sprinkled with curly black hair that darted down his flat, hard belly and disappeared into his tight-fitting breeches, and Chandra could not help but admire his superior masculine build. The towel grazed up his arms, one at a time, over corded muscles, their strength apparent. His long fingers tossed the toweling aside, and Chandra remembered that those arms and those fingers had wielded the sword that killed Devin. Exceptional her guardian might be, but he was also a murderer.
A clean shirt slipped down over Aleck’s head and he began tucking the silk into the waist of his breeches. That’s when he noticed that the connecting door stood ajar. “Spying on me, little one?” he asked, the last of the loose material pushed from sight. Not surprisingly, she refused to answer. “I know you’re there, Chandra. Quit acting like a child and come hither.”
Slowly she made her way into view. “I hadn’t realized this was your room. The other door was locked, so I tried the second. It led me here.”
“I know where it leads,” he said, studying her. “I thought you preferred your own company. Have you grown weary of being alone?”
She gazed at him long and hard, unsure whether to lunge at him, her nails aimed at his arresting blue eyes, or fall at his feet, begging him to release her so she could go home. “Whether I had grown weary of being alone or not makes little difference. I simply discovered that I had no way out of my room except through here,” she said, remaining calm. “The question is why?”
Aleck chuckled. “I think you already know the answer.”
“Indulge me,” she said, looking straight at him. “Why was my outer door locked and not this one?”
“In order to escape, you would have had to slip past me,” he answered, not in the least bit willing to relate that he’d forgotten to lock it that morning. Each night he went quietly into her room to check on her. After a short stay, he made his way back to his own room. But hours later, he always found himself awake. “To do so would be almost impossible.”
Chandra’s fingers trailed over the top of a chair’s back. She walked nearer to him. “You risk much, milord, especially when it might not be escape that I desire.” She saw his arched brow. “I might still wish to gain my revenge. While you lie abed, slumbering peacefully, you could be awakened by a quick, sharp pain. But only briefly, for you’d soon sleep forever.”
“Not likely.” He moved to the bed’s end. “You no longer have a weapon, and you’ll not find one anywhere within reach.” He casually leaned his shoulder against the carved bedpost. “A word of warning, little one. Should you ever come near my bed at night, you will fast discover it is you who suffers a quick, sharp pain, but it will be followed by hours of pleasure. There will be no sleep, only continuous ecstasy until the dawn breaks. Possibly even longer.”
Blinking, Chandra wondered if he’d implied what she thought. Before she could shoot an adequate response his way, one that dripped sarcasm, he shoved away from the post and came toward her. Quickly she backed up a step.
His low laughter rumbled forth. “’Tis not night, Chandra, and you are not overly near my bed. At the moment, you have nothing to fear.” He moved past her to the open window. “Come. I want to show you something.”
Cautiously she made her way to the large window set inside an alcove. She stopped several feet short of him, ready to flee.
“Those trees,” he said, pointing across to the opposite hillside. “Do you see the stones beyond them?”
Chandra stepped closer. “Aye,” she said, glimpsing the rising walls. “I see them.”
“That is Montbourne Hall.” Pride echoed in his voice. “When it is finished, the castle will be closed and that will be my new residence. I just came from there, but if you like, I’ll take you to see it after our meal. It will afford you the opportunity to enjoy the sunshine and fresh air. This time, will you honor my invitation?”
To ride free, Chandra thought, trying to mask her excitement. With luck, as they headed from the castle over to the next hill, she could escape him. The border, she knew, was less than an hour’s ride away. Oh, Scotland. How she longed to see her homeland again. “Your invitation is accepted,” she said, her tone serene. “It will dispel the monotony of the day.”
Although she appeared reserved, even somewhat bored by the prospect of seeing his new home, Aleck noticed a breathless quality to her voice. It hinted at excitement and possibly anticipation. He surveyed her expressive eyes, then offered her a pleasant smile. “Would milady also like to dine in the hall below? If so, I believe our meal awaits us.”
Chandra nodded her assent; then, at the wave of his hand, she preceded him to the door that led from his room into the hallway. As they traveled the corridor, she studied the upper level, searching out any extra sets of steps that might descend to either the kitchens or another passageway below. There were two such stairwells, and Chandra took mental note of their locations, just in case she failed in her impending escape.
She quickly followed her guardian down the main staircase. Viewing the great hall for the first time, Chandra found she was thoroughly impressed. Damask-covered tables were set with silver plates and goblets. Tapestries lined the walls while fresh herbal grasses covered the floor. The place was impeccably clean and in excellent repair. “Why do you want to abandon the castle?” she asked, following him to the table. “Especially when it still has many years of use?”
“Since your country and mine are now at peace, and it is to be hoped that they shall remain so, the place has outlived its day. Times are changing. As you will soon see, my new home demonstrates that they are.”
“What if Scotland and England decide to take up arms against each other again—what will you do then?”
“The castle will still be standing. It will afford us the protection that it always has.”
Aleck helped Chandra into her seat at the head table, then settled into the chair next to hers. Eyeing him, she asked, “Has Montbourne suffered much over the years? I mean—has it seen many battles?”
“There have been several.” He reserved the fact that they’d been exceedingly bloody. “But naught has happened in recent years.”
“Did Montbourne always see victory?”
“All but once,” he said. “More than a century ago, your countrymen managed to gain entry to the castle. One slew my forebear and abducted his wife and infant son. The place lay unattended for more than two decades.”
“What happened to the boy and his mother?”
“The young widow became her abductor’s new bride.”
“And the boy?”
“When he gained his maturity, he came south and reclaimed his birthright.”
Chandra’s gaze slowly moved toward the doors at the opposite end of the hall. “I suppose even after all those years, Montbourne still beckoned to him.”
“I suppose it did. It was his home.”
Trenchers of food were placed on the table, and Aleck watched as she served herself. She longed for her home, he knew. But in good conscience, he couldn’t just set her free. Danger lurked over every hill and behind each tree. No woman could survive such a long journey on her own. Why he hadn’t released her only a short way from the Morgan stronghold, Aleck couldn’t say. But something had compelled him to keep her with him. Something
he was unable to fathom. Something he readily denied. Yet he realized that at the first opportunity, she’d try to escape him. That he could not let her do.
He blamed himself for her sorrow. Were it possible, he would offer to escort her, but to do so meant great risk, not simply to his life, but also to her own. Cedric’s wrath was bound to descend upon him, and Chandra was certain to be caught in the fray. How very convenient it would be for the man, Aleck thought. With his niece dead, accidentally entrapped between the two, much like Devin, the Highlander could claim the title of chief, an ambition he’d long held. No, he’d not chance such a happening, and he’d not ask anyone else to hazard such a journey either. Besides, it was now up to their king to decide what was to be done with the Lady Lochlaigh. He could do naught but await word from James.
Aleck served himself. The two ate in silence, lost in their own thoughts. When the meal was over, he rose from his chair and assisted Chandra from hers. “If milady is ready, we shall journey over to the next hill.”
“I am more than ready,” she said, her anticipation growing.
“Yes,” Aleck responded, noting the determination in her eyes, “I’m certain you are.”
Chandra stared after him as he walked toward the doors leading from the hall. He was suspicious of her, she decided, trailing along behind him. Somehow she had to ease his doubts so he’d lower his guard. Then, and only then, would she be able to make her escape.
Stepping from the dim hall into the bright sunlight, she closed her eyes and basked in its warmth. Fresh air filled her lungs, invigorating her. Opening her eyes, she saw a lad break from her guardian’s presence to dash off toward the stables. As she slowly walked to Aleck’s side, she ordered her jittery nerves to relax, lest he become even more suspicious. “’Tis a bonny day,” she remarked, her manner casual.
Lord of Legend Page 15
