“Aye,” he said, taking the reins of the horses. “But how will Ethan and Caleb get back to their boat? It’s goin’ to be too hard to trek down the hill on foot in this storm.”
The wolfhound lay down at Ethan’s feet and put its nose down between its paws.
“They canna stay,” said Albert, hurrying down from the battlements to join them. “Alana, they shouldna be inside the walls of Blackbriar Castle.”
“Ye’re right,” agreed Alana, getting a stern look from her sister. “Ethan, I’m sorry, but ye’ll have to leave now.”
“Leave?” Ethan chuckled. “Alana, I didna think even someone as cold-hearted as ye could turn away a man who has just saved yer life. The storm is bad and we canna sail until it lets up or we’re at risk of capsizin’.”
“That’s true. It’s too dangerous to be out on the water now,” agreed Caleb.
Isobel rushed over to Alana with her doll held tightly in one hand. She yanked on Alana’s cloak, her eyes fastened to Ethan as she spoke.
“This is the man I saw atop the wall,” said the little girl.
“Aye, that’s right,” answered Alana. “But he doesna belong here, sweetie.”
“Mathair, please let him stay,” begged the girl.
“Mathair?” Ethan’s eyes shot up and interlocked with Alana’s. Her body stiffened and her heart almost stopped beating. “Alana . . . ye have a daughter?” His words were laced with shock as well as disappointment. She wasn’t sure what to say.
Her arm went around her daughter and she pulled the little girl closer. The snow continued to fall and the wind was becoming relentless. She wanted to tell Ethan the truth about Isobel, but she couldn’t. Her father told her she had to keep it a secret, and he was probably right. If Ethan knew he had a child, he would never leave. She needed him to go back to the mainland before Diarmad returned or he might be killed.
The hurt in Ethan’s eyes said everything that Alana had been feeling in her heart. She looked over to Kirstine once more, and her sister nodded. Alana felt so confused and her head ached from her fall. Her body shivered and she couldn’t think straight. She remained silent instead of answering.
“Come, Caleb, I think it’s time for us to leave after all,” said Ethan, turning around. His dog jumped up and followed.
“Now?” asked Caleb, pulling his cloak tighter around him to ward off the chill. “But we havena found the doll yet.”
“I no longer care,” grumbled Ethan, walking faster toward the gate.
“The clan isna goin’ to be happy to have to listen to Sophie’s cryin’ because we didna find her doll,” protested Caleb, hurrying after Ethan.
“Mathair,” said Isobel, tugging on Alana’s cloak. When Alana looked down at her daughter, Isobel was holding up her doll. “This is my friend, Sophie’s doll.”
“It is?” Alana knew now where the doll had come from, and she wasn’t happy about it. “Isobel, did ye sneak out of the castle to play with Osla’s daughter, Sophie, after ye were told no’ to?”
“I’m sorry,” said Isobel, looking down and cradling the doll. “Finn used to take me there. He said it was all right.”
“Well, Finn is goin’ to have to answer for this later.”
“Alana, ye canna mean to really let him leave,” whispered Kirstine, hurrying to Alana’s side.
“Well, it’s no’ like I can ask him to stay,” Alana whispered back.
“Why no’?” asked Isobel, looking up at Alana with innocent eyes. “Ethan is nice. I like him.”
Alana exchanged glances once more with Kirstine and let out a deep sigh. Her head hurt like the devil and she was so cold now that her teeth were chattering. But her heart longed for Ethan and she couldn’t just let him walk out of her life now. Not before she could apologize for walking out of his life five years ago.
“Ethan,” she called out, leaving the others, picking up her skirts and running after her ex-lover. “Ethan, I’ve changed my mind. I want ye to stay.”
He stopped in his tracks so abruptly that she crashed into the back of him. When she stepped away, he turned to face her. Caleb stood next to him, watching them intently.
“What did ye say?” asked Ethan.
“I said . . . I want ye to stay.” Her heart drummed relentlessly in her chest. Once again, her eyes interlocked with his. His big, round brown eyes reminded her so much of Isobel’s eyes that it made her want to cry.
“Ye want me to stay?”
Alana nodded slowly. “For now. Until the storm lets up and ye are able to sail back to the mainland.”
“Aye, I’d like to stay and get warm by the fire,” said Caleb, reaching out to pet the nose of his pine marten that was sticking its head out of his bag. “Slink would appreciate it, too.”
“I dinna ken,” Ethan answered in a low voice. “I dinna like to be around people who dinna want me and who’ve betrayed me.”
Alana knew exactly what he was talking about, but she couldn’t address the issue. Not now with so many people watching and listening. It would have to wait.
“Please, Ethan,” she said in a half-whisper, her fingers going to the wound on her head. She felt extremely lightheaded and it was getting hard to think. “I – I need to . . .” She stopped speaking as blackness covered her eyes and her knees buckled beneath her. The last thing she remembered was Ethan reaching out to catch her before she hit the ground.
Chapter 5
“Quickly, we need to get her inside and out of the storm,” commanded Ethan, gathering up Alana just before she crumpled to the ground.
“This way,” said Kirstine, waving her arm, leading them into the keep.
“I dinna like this. Ye shoudna be here,” growled the guard that Alana had called Graeme.
“Believe me, I dinna intend to stay,” Ethan answered, following the small procession inside the keep and out of the storm. “As soon as I ken that Alana is all right and the storm lets up, I’m leavin’.”
“Put her in her solar,” said Kirstine. “It’s this way.”
Ethan followed the pregnant woman into a solar and gently laid Alana atop the bed. Her face was pale and the gash on her head looked deep. Trapper laid his chin on the bed and whined sadly.
“She’s goin’ to need stitches,” said Ethan, tearing off the bottom of his leine and wrapping it around Alana’s head. “Call for the healer.”
“We dinna have a healer.” Kirstine grabbed a bag and rushed back to the bed. “I will do it.”
“Ye? Have ye done this before?” Ethan stood up and perused the woman.
“I can do it,” she said, pulling a needle and thread out of her bag.
Ethan waited for her to say something else to him, but she didn’t. Why had he somehow expected her to apologize for Alana leaving him at the altar? Even if not, a simple I’m sorry for what my sister put ye through, would have been appreciated.
Several servants followed them into the room.
“Finn, bring me a rag and water to clean her wound. Hurry,” said Kirstine.
“Aye,” answered the boy, rushing to the washstand.
“Why are ye all here at Blackbriar?” asked Ethan curiously. “And how long have ye been here?”
“I’m goin’ to have to ask ye to leave the room now,” said Kirstine, ignoring his questions altogether. “All of ye will have to leave while I sew up Alana’s wound.”
“Is Alana’s husband in the castle?” asked Ethan, not knowing if he wanted to stay if the man who stole Alana from him was here. There had never been talk of Alana having another lover, but if she left him at the altar and had a daughter, it was apparent that it was so. If Ethan ever saw the man, he’d probably want to kill him for taking away the only girl he’d ever loved.
“I dinna have a da,” said the little girl named Isobel, crawling atop the bed with the doll in her hand.
Ethan wickedly felt relief that he wasn’t going to have to meet the man who bedded Alana and sired her daughter. By the little girl’s remark, it sounded as if he were dead, and some
how Ethan didn’t care. Still, his heart went out to the girl for her loss. His eyes fastened to the doll she held, and Sophie’s sad wailing echoed in his head.
Isobel might not have a father, but Sophie didn’t have a father or a mother. Her pain had to be worse. Ethan needed to get the doll from Isobel because that was the only thing that was going to bring comfort to the little girl back at the MacKeefe camp. But now that he knew Isobel no longer had a father, he didn’t have the heart to take the doll from her. He was in a precarious predicament and wasn’t sure what to do.
“I see,” said Ethan, feeling like a black-hearted devil for not only feeling satisfaction knowing the man who stole his bride had passed away, but also for contemplating stealing from a child. What was the matter with him? Soon, he’d be no better than Alana’s no-good father who stole the MacKeefe’s herd on his daughter’s wedding day. “I’ll be in the great hall waitin’ to hear about Alana’s state,” said Ethan, turning and walking to the door with his dog following. He couldn’t stay in this room a moment longer.
“I’m sure Alana will be all right. She’s a strong lass and a survivor,” Kirstine said from behind him. “Now, everyone out, so I can get to work.”
As Ethan and Caleb exited the room, Isobel ran up and tugged on Ethan’s wet cloak.
“My name is Isobel,” she told Ethan. “And my dolly’s name is Annabelle.”
“Well, hello, Isobel,” said Ethan. “And also Annabelle,” he said, smiling and nodding at the doll. “I’m Ethan, and I’m glad we’ve finally been properly introduced. Can ye show me how to get to the great hall?”
“And also, where we can get some food?” added Caleb, rubbing his belly.
“Sure I can.” She surprised Ethan by reaching out and taking his hand. Her hand was so little and frail that he was afraid he’d smash it or break her bones with his rugged, strong grip. He had to be careful around her. “I like ye,” said the girl with a wide smile, admiring Ethan. Part of him felt happy that Alana’s daughter liked him. But another part of him felt sick. Did he really want the admiration of a child that was another man’s but should have been his? It hurt to think what a child created by him and Alana might have looked like. He could only wonder if they would have had a son, or mayhap a daughter as cute as Isobel.
“Well . . . I . . . I like ye, too,” said Ethan, figuring he was going to have to win the girl over if he was going to talk her into giving up the doll. He felt awful about all this. But if he went back to the MacKeefe camp without the doll, Hawke and the others were going to have his head.
“Is that the doll we’re lookin’ for?” asked Caleb in a mere whisper as they headed away to the great hall.
“Aye, I think so,” Ethan answered, feeling like such a traitor as he held the hand of the girl and led her to the great hall like he was leading a lamb to slaughter.
“Ye’re no’ really goin’ to take it from her, are ye?” asked Caleb.
“It’s no’ hers,” he answered softly so the girl couldn’t hear him. “It’s Sophie’s doll and Isobel is naught but a little thief.”
“Well, what are we goin’ to do about it?” asked Caleb.
“I dinna ken yet, but we’ll come up with somethin’,” answered Ethan, already devising a plan to get the doll and get the hell out of there before he had to deal with another ghost – this time a ghost of his troubled past.
* * *
When Alana’s eyes flickered open, she saw Ethan holding her daughter’s hand as they left the room. “Nay!” she blurted out, sitting up quickly, wanting to go after them.
“Lay down, Alana,” commanded Kirstine, holding up a threaded needle. “I need to sew up the gash on yer head. But I’ll never be able to do it if ye willna stay still.”
Terrible pain shot through Alana’s head and she suddenly dizzied. “Kirstine, Ethan is takin’ Isobel away from me. Ye’ve got to stop him!”
“Nonsense,” answered Kirstine. “No one is takin’ her, now stop all yer fussin’. They are only goin’ to the great hall to wait for word that ye are all right. Now, let me sew up that wound before ye bleed to death.”
“Ooooh,” moaned Alana, laying her cheek on the pillow so her sister could sew up the gash at the back of her head.
“Here, ye’d better have a swig of this.” Kirstine held out a goat’s bladder filled with liquid.
“What’s in it?” she asked, sitting up and bringing it to her lips.
“I dinna ken. The man named Caleb that is with Ethan must have left it here. I think it is whisky. Drink some so ye willna feel the pain when I pierce yer flesh.”
With one sip, Alana’s throat caught afire and she could barely breathe. She gasped for air, her hand clutching her throat.
“What’s the matter?” asked Kirstine, becoming alarmed. Her eyes opened wide as well as her mouth. “It’s tainted! God’s eyes, I swear I didna ken!”
“It’s no’ tainted. That’s . . . Mountain Magic.” Alana was barely able to squeak out her raspy reply. “I’d ken it anywhere. Ethan and his friends used to drink it all the time.”
“Mountain Magic?” asked Kirstine. “Och, I remember now. It’s that hellfire potion brewed by the auld man of the MacKeefe Clan.” She pulled it away and took a sniff before corking up the bladder and pushing it aside. “Ye’d better no’ have anymore. Ye’re already passin’ out and this isna goin’ to help.”
“Kirstine, what am I goin’ to do?” asked Alana, wincing in pain as her sister sewed up her wound.
“About what?”
“About Ethan.”
“I dinna ken, but I heard him say he’s leavin’ as soon as the storm lets up.”
“Nay,” said Alana, her heart about breaking. After not seeing him for so many years, she didn’t want him to leave, even though she knew it was risky to let him stay.
“I suppose it’s for the best, Alana. Ye ken that if Diarmad finds them here, he’ll probably kill them.”
“Well, that’s no longer acceptable. I canna send Ethan away. No’ before I have a chance to talk to him. We still have time. Diarmad willna be back before the storm passes. I’m goin’ to ask Ethan to stay,” said Alana, trying to get out of bed.
“Stay still! I’m tryin’ to close yer wound,” scolded Kirstine. “And ye are in no shape to be goin’ anywhere. There,” she said, tying off the knot and snipping the thread. “Now, ye stay in bed. I’ll have food brought to yer room.”
“Nay, I canna do that! I have things to tend to, includin’ takin’ care of my daughter. Plus, I need to talk to Ethan. I have to explain to him why I left him.” She threw her legs over the side of the bed and almost blacked out again. “Och,” she said, her hand going to her head. Her stomach became queasy. “Mayhap I will take a wee nap first.”
“Here, take another swig of this.” Kirstine handed her the Mountain Magic. “It’ll help ye sleep.”
Since the pain throbbing in her head was more intense than being stuck with a needle, Alana gladly took the pouch and downed a big dram of the potent brew. She made a face as it burned a path down to her belly.
“Dinna let anyone tell Ethan a word about anythin’,” she warned, her speech becoming slurred. Alana lay back on the bed and closed her eyes. “Especially, dinna let him ken he’s Isobel’s faither.”
“I willna be the one to tell him that, but I think ye should.” Kirstine got up and put away her supplies, wiping off her hands.
“Do ye really think so?” she asked, her eyes closing as the effects of the whisky took control of her body.
“I’ll keep him here until ye awake, but then ye need to tell him somethin’,” said Kirstine. “This canna go on any longer.”
Kirstine was right, but the thought scared Alana out of her mind. It was going to be bad enough trying to explain to Ethan why she’d left him at the altar. But as hard as that was going to be, telling him he sired a child that she kept a secret for so long was going to be so much worse.
* * *
“Where is everyone?” Ethan
asked as the small entourage entered the great hall. The castle was vast, the room cold and dreary. A small fire flickered in the hearth across the room, barely large enough to create any warmth at all. But then again, the room was nearly void of people so mayhap it didn’t matter.
“Dinna ask questions,” grumbled Graeme, walking across the room to talk with the other guard named Albert.
“This place is kind of . . . eerie,” said Ethan, feeling the chill of the dimly-lit vast chamber like icy fingers running up his spine.
“We dinna have many people livin’ here,” Finn told them. “And the – the laird doesna like us to use a lot of wood.”
“What kind of laird would run a castle this way?” asked Ethan, glancing up at a hole in the roof where the snow was blowing in. The tapestries on the walls were torn and dirty, and a broken metal fixture that held candles dangled from the ceiling, all the candles stubs too small to burn. “Look at this place. It’s in such disrepair that it is fallin’ down around us. No wonder it’s said to be haunted.” He kicked at the stale, dirty rushes on the floor and part of the floor splintered up with it.
“It’s no’ haunted,” said little Isobel, looking up at him with wide, brown eyes.
“Aye, it is,” said Finn, shooting the girl a nasty glare. “Isobel, mayhap ye should go to bed now.”
“Nay! I want to stay with Ethan. He’s nice.” The little girl stuck out her tongue at Finn.
“Would ye like an ale?” asked a serving wench, handing Caleb and Ethan each a mug.
“Ale? Nay, I’ve got somethin’ better,” said Caleb, reaching to his side and then looking around the floor. “What happened to the bladder of Mountain Magic I had tied to my waist?” he asked.
“Ye probably forgot it on the boat,” said Ethan with a scowl. “Ye’re always forgettin’ things.”
“Nay, I’m sure I had it with me,” Caleb protested.
“Then mayhap that little thief stole it,” remarked Ethan, talking about Caleb’s pine marten but, for some reason, Isobel thought he meant her.
Highland Spirit: Highland Chronicles Series - Book 2 Page 7
