by Aileen Adams
She smiled. She had made it the entire way without feeling extraordinarily tired.
The night air felt cool against her skin, raising goosebumps. Still, it felt good, removing the remnants of the lingering fear from her nightmare. Some strands of hair had worked loose from her braid and she brushed them away, tucking one particularly stubborn strand behind her ear. She approached the pond and Maccay, who stood with his back to her. He didn’t acknowledge her presence, although by his stiffer posture, she was sure he knew she approached.
“Maccay?”
He said nothing for several moments and then slowly turned. He glanced past her toward the manor house, then around the yard. “Alis, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I saw you from my window. You looked… I thought that maybe you would like some company.” She regretted saying the words the moment they left her mouth. What made her think that Maccay would want her company? She quickly tried to retreat. “I shouldn’t have bothered you… I’ll go back in—”
“No need,” he sighed. “I couldn’t sleep either.”
She wanted to ask but didn’t.
They stood quietly for several moments, but with each passing second, she all the more regretted coming out here.
What would be more awkward? To stay here and stand near Maccay in silence or simply turn and walk back to the house? She debated that very question until he turned to glance down at her.
“Why aren’t you tucked snugly into your bed?”
The question caused her face to flush with heat, grateful he couldn’t see it. “I… I couldn’t sleep.”
“Why not?”
She didn’t really want to answer that, but did anyway. “I had a nightmare.”
He grunted low in his throat as he turned to peer over the surface of the pond.
The water lapped gently against the shore in a rhythmic slap, pause, slap, pause. A short distance away, among the reeds surrounding the far side of the pond, several frogs croaked, one after the other, each with a slightly different tone.
“What kind of nightmare?”
“A nightmare…,” she replied hesitantly, not sure how to respond. “The kind that makes your heart pound and jolts you out of sleep, confused about where you are…”
He turned to face her. “And who you are?”
She nodded, then realized he might not have seen it.
He had.
“Are you getting any memories back at all?”
She shook her head, exhaling a soft sigh as she turned to also study the surface of the pond. “Just images of hiding in the forest, hoping that they wouldn’t find me.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged, glancing up at him. “That’s the problem. I don’t know. I just know that I couldn’t let them find me.”
He said nothing for several moments but then he stooped down, picked up a small stone, and tossed it, skipping it over the surface of the water until it plopped one last time and sank beneath the surface.
“I hear that the laird and his brother saw you earlier.”
“Yes.” She glanced up at him with uncertainty. “They seem so… so intimidating.”
He offered a small laugh. “Aye, they’ve both been known to display some bits of temper, especially Jake. But they’ve both settled down since they were married.”
“I hope you… I hope the laird wasn’t angry with you, Maccay…” She had to get it out, not expecting him to respond yet not that surprised when he did.
“I’ve known Phillip and Jake since we were very young. I’ve rarely seen Phillip lose his temper. Jake, yes, but not Phillip.” He paused with a shrug. “I’ll be talking to him in the morning. He asked for me.” He inhaled deeply and then let the air out of his lungs with a huff. “He knows Sarah, and that she and her sister would chafe at being followed around everywhere like I was doing after he left, but I do know that I let them down.”
He picked up another rock, skimming it again over the surface. “No matter what happens, I’ll always know that I let all of you down. I shouldn’t have been off digging up those flowers.” He offered a chortle that displayed no humor whatsoever. “I was supposed to be protecting you, to watch—”
“Maccay, it’s not your fault.”
“And whose fault is it?”
“That wicked woman… it’s her fault. None of us heard her before she was there. She took you off guard, clobbered you in the head—”
“If I was thinking properly, paying attention, she never would’ve gotten within ten feet.” He shook his head, muttering unintelligibly under his breath. “You should go back to the house, Alis. You’ll catch cold out here.”
She felt a surge of disappointment and tried to ignore the heaviness that settled in her body. Who did she think she was, trying to offer a bit of support and comfort, and to a seasoned clan warrior at that! He didn’t need to hear platitudes and sympathy from her. She was just making it worse.
Still, she didn’t want to leave.
“You’re right, Maccay, I should.”
But she didn’t.
Abruptly, she sat down on the ground, the grass soft under her backside, content to just sit and stare at the moonlight glistening on the surface of the water.
If he wanted to leave, he could.
She didn’t want to go back to the house just yet. She didn’t want to go back to bed, nor did she want to close her eyes and sleep, leaving herself easy prey for another nightmare.
To her surprise, Maccay heaved a sigh, tossed one more pebble across the surface of the lake, and then sat down cross-legged beside her.
9
Early the next morning, even before the sun had fully risen over the eastern horizon, Maccay stood in front of the door of the manor house, heart thumping with trepidation.
It wasn’t that he was afraid of Phillip, or Jake. He never had been and knew that he never needed to be. But today, maybe he deserved to be. He had been charged with the protection of both their wives and Alis.
He’d been surprised when Alis approached last night as he strolled along the edges of the pond. That she had sought him out.
She had been very brave the other day, confronting Ceana, who could have turned on her with that knife. In her weakened state, she would’ve been no match for the woman bent on revenge.
He felt a pull toward Alis, and although he didn’t know her and she didn’t even know herself, he sensed that she was a good woman.
In the field, she had acted on instinct. Her desire to protect Sarah and her unborn baby said a lot about the woman, whether she knew who she was or not.
He should’ve said something about that last night, but truth be told, he’d felt a bit awkward in her presence, her close proximity elicited a myriad of physical sensations and thoughts that had him distracted.
He had enjoyed unobtrusively studying her profile in the moonlight, intrigued by the way the corners of her mouth turned up in a gentle smile as she gazed out over the water.
He needed to find out who she was, but at the same time, he didn’t really want to know. She was Alis.
On the heels of that thought came another.
Guilt.
What if she was married?
What if someone had abandoned her, hoping that she would die out in those woods.
Didn’t she deserve to know? If she was running from something, what was it? Such thoughts lingered in his mind as he slowly entered the manor house and made his way toward the small space that Phillip often used to deal with what he called nuisance work. Ledgers. Letters. Maccay didn’t really know what went on behind those doors, but he was glad that he was not the laird of the clan. Too much responsibility, not just for the safety of his immediate family, but everyone who lived on his lands.
That was not to say Maccay was one to shirk from his duty. He would perform his duties to the utmost of his ability. As he paused before the door, his heart thumped dully in his chest. And what would he do if Phillip discharged him
of his duties? Would he lose his home, his position among the Duncan clan? Maybe he deserved anything that Phillip or Jake decided to mete out to him.
He knocked once, heard a muffled voice from the other side of the door and entered.
Phillip glanced up and gestured for him to close the door.
Maccay waited, trying to hide his nervousness.
Since yesterday afternoon when Phillip had returned, Jake arriving with him, neither had sought him out, nor attempted to speak with him about what had happened. Maybe he should be the one to broach the topic and get it out of the way.
“Phillip… Laird Duncan—”
“What’s this?” Phillip said, tossing the feathered pen down onto the small desk he used. “Laird?” He shook his head. “I thought you knew better than that, Maccay.”
Maccay was only briefly mollified. “Phillip, I let you down. I let Jake down. I—”
“Are you all right?”
Maccay frowned. “What?”
Phillip leaned back in his chair. “From what Heather and Sarah have told me, you took a solid knock on the back of your head. Are you all right?”
Maccay’s hand instinctively lifted, his fingers gently touching the bump and small gash on the back of his head. “Yes, I am, but—”
Phillip peered at him, his expression somber. “She could have killed you too. At first, I was angry, Maccay, make no mistake about it. I charged you to keep the women safe.”
Maccay started to agree, but Phillip lifted his hand.
“Maccay, don’t fret so. I know that you would give your life for Sarah or Heather. We both underestimated Ceana. I didn’t expect her to be this close to the village, let alone the manor house.” He offered a shrug. “Besides, there’s not many of us that will turn down even the smallest of Sarah’s requests.”
“I was digging flowers, Phillip… flowers!” He shook his head, grimacing with self-disgust. “What kind of man does that when he’s supposed to be protecting…”
Phillip interrupted. “Don’t berate yourself too much, Maccay. You might be surprised at some of the things that I’ve found myself doing because Sarah asked it of me.”
Though Maccay was certainly curious about that, he didn’t ask. “If it weren’t for Heather and Alis—”
“We can’t go back and undo the past. We must just be grateful that the women are all right. Ceana got what she deserved, something she’s had coming to her for a long time.”
Maccay nodded. Still, he couldn’t understand why Phillip wasn’t furious with him. If the situation had been different, would he have been as gracious?
“About this Alis. Has she remembered anything? Where she comes from? What she was doing out in the woods? Her name?”
He shook his head. “She told me she’s been having nightmares—”
“And when did you talk to her?”
“I couldn’t sleep last night. I was strolling along the pond. She found me there and we talked for a little while.”
While Phillip raised an eyebrow, he didn’t pursue it.
Maccay continued, “She has the feeling that she was running from something or somebody. She told me that she couldn’t let them catch her.”
“Who?”
Maccay shrugged. “I have no idea.”
Phillip frowned, his index and thumb gently plucking at his lower lip as he contemplated what Maccay had told him.
“I can’t help but feel that she looks vaguely familiar. Not from around here though. I know everyone in the village. Even relatives of villagers who’ve come from other regions. Someone would’ve recognized her by now. I’ve asked around in the village—”
“I have too, and so too have Heather and Sarah. No one seems to know who she is or where she came from.”
Neither of them said anything.
Finally, thinking that the conversation was over, Maccay turned to leave with an inward sigh of relief.
Phillip hadn’t suggested punishment or banishment. While he was certainly relieved, he realized that Sarah had had a somewhat gentling influence on the laird. In the past, Phillip’s temper could be quite fearsome.
In the past, such a situation as the attack in the meadow on the ridge above the manor house would have elicited the shedding of blood. Sarah could’ve been killed. She might’ve been injured so badly as to lose her child. Heather could’ve been the one to go over the slope and broken her neck instead of Ceana. Alis too could have been seriously injured, or worse. She would’ve been easy prey for Ceana. He cringed at the thought of Ceana’s knife plunging into Alis’ chest.
And yet, while Phillip seemed to have forgiven him, he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to forgive himself for his lapse in judgment.
“I have something else I need to talk to you about.”
He turned around, eyebrow lifted, waiting.
“My meeting with Ian Orkney.”
Maccay waited.
The Orkney clan had been warring with the Duncan clan for generations. Ian, the Orkney clan leader, was a brutal warrior, neither hesitant nor remorseful for the devastation he brought on neighboring clans.
While Phillip and the Duncan clan never sought revenge against women and children of enemy clans, the same could not be said of Ian Orkney.
It was Ian’s son, Fergus, who had kidnapped Sarah away from Duncan manor not so very long ago. After Ceana had been banished from Duncan lands, she had taken up, albeit briefly, with the Orkney clan. After an initial clash with Phillip and some warriors of the Duncan clan following that kidnapping, tensions had risen. Blood had been shed.
“And how did that go?” Maccay finally asked.
Phillip shook his head, his tone slightly surprised as he replied. “He’s getting on in years. I got the impression that he has no lust for renewing animosities. Of course, the feud still stands, but he’s not going out of his way to provoke us because of Fergus’ actions.”
Maccay thought about that. “And exactly where is Fergus these days?”
“Ian said he didn’t know.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I’m not sure. But I still want to keep the patrols going. I want two-man patrols for the next month or so, just to be on the safe side. I’d feel better if I knew where Fergus was. But now the Ceana’s dead, that’s one less thing to worry about.”
“That’s small comfort,” Maccay muttered.
“I can’t say the same thing about the McGregors.”
Maccay straightened, a frown furling his brow. While the Orkney clan were known as fierce, brutal warriors, the McGregors could be even worse. There were rumors that beheadings of their own people had occurred in recent years.
“What have you heard?”
“Ian mentioned that Angus McGregor is contemplating revenge for Kent’s death, and for Clyde’s injuries.”
Maccay felt a surge of temper. “And well they both deserved it!”
Another situation triggered by Ceana, who after the Orkneys would no longer have anything to do with her, managed to work her way into the good graces of Clyde McGregor, nephew of the clan leader of the McGregors. A truly evil bunch.
He shook his head.
Ceana had stirred up trouble throughout the highlands. While he often hesitated to think ill of the dead, he couldn’t be more pleased that the wicked woman was gone for good.
Just months ago, Ceana had taken up with Clyde McGregor. He and his cousin Kent had attacked Heather and Jake, nearly killing Jake for the second time. Kent had been killed and Clyde wounded. And the McGregor was out for revenge?
Maccay bit back a curse.
The McGregors were nothing more than bullies. They liked to fight. They thrived on spilling blood, intimidating not only rivaling clans, but their own people.
“Until I learn more, I want you to continue watching after Sarah and Heather—”
“Phillip, I—”
“From now on, someone will accompany you. That way, if either Heather or Sarah need something, or want you to do somethin
g, you’ll have another pair of eyes watching.” Phillip offered a shrug. “I know that they’re not going to like it, not one bit. Both of them may cause you more than a headache or two. But until the baby is born…”
“I understand.” Maccay held back his sigh. Still, he couldn’t hide his disappointment. He was a warrior, and he needed to be out there, patrolling Duncan lands, keeping everyone safe, not just—
“And I want you to keep especially close watch on Alis.”
He frowned. “Alis?”
“Yes. “
Maccay didn’t understand. He thought over the laird’s words for several moments, and then his eyes widened. “You think she’s a spy? You think she’s spying for an enemy clan?”
“I don’t know, Maccay. But until we can find out something about her and where she comes from or who she belongs to, I don’t feel as if we should take any chances. Don’t forget there’s also been rumors that Patrick MacDonald has learned of his daughter’s whereabouts.”
While Maccay certainly felt that Phillip should be cautious, he frowned. Alis a spy? Impossible. Her memory loss—
“You think she’s pretending her memory loss?” He harrumphed. “If she is, she’s awfully good at it.”
“Like I said, I don’t know. And because I don’t know, I’m not about to take chances. We made a mistake underestimating Ceana. It won’t happen again. If she has anything, anything at all to do with the McGregors, the Orkneys, or Patrick MacDonald, we’ll find out eventually. But until then, you keep a very close eye on her. Do you understand?”
Maccay nodded though he didn’t feel comfortable with this order at all. He knew he shouldn’t feel any hesitation whatsoever to do the laird’s bidding, but he liked Alis. Maybe more than he had wanted to admit it. The thought of spying on her, of pretending—
“I think it’s best, since she’s stronger now, that she be moved out of the manor house.”
Maccay was trying to keep up. “And just where do you…” He saw the look on Phillip’s face, the way he looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Maccay scrambled to translate that expression. Finally, he realized. “You don’t… Phillip, you don’t honestly think I should…” He shook his head.
