by Donna Grant
“Please. Get me. Out. Of. Here.”
In one movement he was out of his chair with her in his arms. She needed air and privacy. He raced to the battlements. Once there he rested his hip on a crenel. He leaned against the solid part, or merlon, and shifted Glenna so he could move the hair from her face.
A soft breeze cooled her skin, but her pallor remained gray. “Glenna. Talk to me. What’s happening?”
“The hatred,” she mumbled, her eyes tightly closed.
Gregor had been right, he thought. She was affected by his clan’s hatred, he just hadn’t realized how much until this eve. And his stupidity had nearly killed her.
“What do I need to do?”
“Keep me. Out here.” She paused, and said, “Please talk.”
And so he sat with her in his arms, her hair dancing around them. With the aid of the moon and a nearby torchlight he was able see the color return to her little by little.
“I talked with Frances MacBeth earlier. She said it was her daughter’s wish for me not to know, though I don’t believe it.”
He saw the faint smile on her lips and rejoiced.
“Mary was quite taken with me, you know,” he teased.
“Arrogant.”
The faint whisper made him chuckle. “Frances had the gall to demand Ailsa be returned to her. I will get answers from her. No one denies me.”
She slowly opened her eyes and attempted a weak smile.
“You should’ve told me that happened to you.” He smoothed the hair from her face.
She licked her lips. “I couldn’t. It built until I couldn’t move.”
“Are you saying you couldn’t have stood and left?”
“Nay. The hatred was so strong, especially from one source.” She sighed and nestled closer to him.
He found his gaze drawn to her plump mouth and hastily jerked them back to her eyes. “Who?”
“I couldn’t find them. The hall was too crowded.”
“You’re safe now,” he whispered, and found himself lured by her parted lips and half-closed lids. The sound of a lute reached him, the music sensual and romantic as it floated on the night’s breeze.
A longing filled him to taste the nectar from her mouth, to quench the thirst racking his body. He lowered his head until their lips were breaths apart. His eyes found hers. A part of him said to take her. She was his prisoner. His.
Mine.
Aye, she was his, and he knew she wouldn’t push him away. He saw the hunger burning just below the surface of her eyes. And words from his father he hadn’t recalled in years came to mind.
“A Druid always knows his mate, lad. And even though ye aren’t destined to be a priest, the Druid blood courses through yer veins.”
Mate? Was something telling him Glenna was his mate? That couldn’t be. For if he kissed her, if he let himself feel anything, then he wouldn’t send her back to the MacNeil. And he wouldn’t have Iona returned.
He brushed aside a dark lock of hair. “I love your hair down. You look wild and untamed.”
“Yet I am anything but those two things.”
He smiled for he knew better. “You just don’t know it yet.”
* * * * *
Moira turned and looked at Frang when he approached. The elder Druid chuckled when he spied what she looked at.
“It seems Glenna and Conall will find their love on their own.”
“He’s fighting it,” Moira said, and turned back to the couple.
“She’ll help him see the way.”
Moira nodded and continued to watch as Conall helped Glenna to her feet. “We could release him from his vow to us.”
“What? And make it easy? You know Aimery wouldn’t like that at all.”
She sighed loudly. “I’m not sure I can do this, Frang. I’m not as strong as you think I am.”
He patted her shoulder and gave her a fatherly smile. “Aimery wouldn’t have given you such a task if he didn’t think you could accomplish it. Have faith in yourself, lass.”
“I feel something in the air.”
Frang chuckled, his long, gray beard moving in the breeze. “It’s desire.”
“Nay. Something else. Something that shouldn’t be.”
Frang stilled and raised his face to the moon. “Aye, you have the right of it. We’ll have to keep a close eye on Glenna and Conall. So much rides on them.”
Moira took one last look at the couple before she followed Frang back into the stone circle. Her back tingled along her spine and that meant there was great evil, greater than MacNeil, who was out to destroy their plans. But who?
* * * * *
The Shadow moved deeper into the woods. He would have to be careful. Frang and Moira had almost seen him. He hadn’t expected to find them spying on Glenna and Conall as well, but it proved just how much was at stake within the Druids.
He laughed softly and quietly made his way to the castle. He had plans of his own, and with the help of a certain lass it would be carried out swiftly. Then he could have Moira. Frang was old—too old to stop him from getting what he wanted. He had waited long enough and been denied too many times. It was his time now.
No more waiting.
Chapter Six
The morning had begun perfectly. Ailsa had run into Glenna’s chamber and demanded to take her exploring. Glenna had readily agreed, eager for the innocence of youth to wash away the pain and confusion that grew steadily in her heart. She never stopped to think what Conall would say, and she didn’t want to know.
They had just stepped into the noisy bailey when Glenna spotted Conall training with his men. She had been hard-pressed to continue on with Ailsa instead of watching Conall’s rippling muscles strain and flex with each trust and parry of his sword.
Her stomach tightened when she remembered the heat from his eyes when he had almost kissed her the night before. With the stars shining overhead, the music from the lute lulling her and his full mouth just breaths away it had been a magical night.
Aye, he had been close, but something had stopped him, much to her disappointment. She had often wondered what it would be like to be a wife and mother, but no man had made her dream of being kissed. Until Conall. He made her think of things that would bring a blush to a nun’s face.
She had wanted his mouth on hers more than she had wanted anything. The gentleness of his hands as they swept the hair from her face, and the intensity of his eyes had haunted her sleep. She would have like to know if he tasted half as good as he looked.
“If you’d rather stare at the laird instead of exploring with me, I ken. All the women say he’s a fine man.”
Glenna smiled. With Ailsa around she was never bored. The child said the oddest things. “Of course I want to go with you.”
But Ailsa’s comment caught her attention. She looked around the bailey and saw the many women, young and old, who stood and gawked at Conall. It made Glenna uncomfortable that they stared so openly until she realized she did the same thing.
Although, it was a beautiful, red-headed woman who ogled him so wantonly that brought up Glenna’s ire.
With the firm resolution to ignore Conall and his magnificent body, she took Ailsa’s hand and was about to set out when a velvet-smooth voice she had come to recognize stopped them.
“And just where are you two going?”
Glenna’s stomach fluttered when she heard Conall’s smooth lilt. She turned and found him smiling at his daughter. “We’re going exploring.”
“Want to come?” Ailsa asked then quickly ducked her head. “Never mind.”
Conall’s brow furrowed as he looked to Glenna, but she shrugged her shoulders. “You don’t want me to come?” he asked Ailsa.
Ailsa raised her head. “You’re laird and don’t have time for m…anyone.”
Glenna tightened her grip on Ailsa’s hand. The child had been told Conall didn’t have time for her. It brought painful memories of Glenna’s own childhood to mind. If Conall didn’t agree to come, s
he was going to give him a swift kick in his shins.
“As a matter-of-fact,” Conall said, and went down on his knees in front of Ailsa, “I don’t have anything to do today. I’d love to come if you still want me.”
Ailsa’s face lit into a huge smile as she flung herself into Conall’s arms. “Oh aye, I want you to come.”
Glenna rejoiced quietly. Conall continued to do things so unexpected from what she was used to, but she didn’t mind. It just proved to her there was love in this world.
They set out after Conall washed the grim from his body. Ailsa ran ahead and led them down the path to the loch while Glenna and Conall walked side by side.
“I’m surprised you’re not keeping everyone in the bailey,” she finally said when Ailsa was too far ahead to hear.
Conall looked at her with his silver eyes. “There’s no way MacNeil can get to us here. On the other side of the forest is a sheer drop off the mountains. The only way to reach my castle is through the path we took here.”
“And the soldiers from the gatehouse towers can spot them far in advance.”
“Exactly.” He reached over and plucked the basket of food from her hand.
They ceased talking when Ailsa declared she had found the perfect spot. She ran along the edge of the loch, picking up stones as she went. Glenna yearned to go with her but didn’t feel comfortable with Conall near. She didn’t want him to know how much this meant to her because he might refuse to let her come again, or worse, make her return to the castle immediately.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked.
His words stunned her. Could he know her deepest, darkest desires? “Excuse me?”
“You came to explore with Ailsa yet you aren’t doing any exploring.”
“Then I’ll leave you here alone,” she said quickly before he could change his mind.
Without a backward glance she trailed after Ailsa. The fresh smell of the loch infused her senses. The sun warmed them from the cool weather that wouldn’t loosen its hold to spring, and the songs of the birds added to the magic.
It took Glenna some time to navigate her steps through the rocks that lined the loch so she wouldn’t twist her ankle, but she quickly caught on with Ailsa’s help. Conall watched his daughter and his captive as they practiced skipping rocks on the water. It had been quite a while since he had laughed so much in one morning.
If the situation were different he could almost think it was his family he observed. It pained him to think he might never know what it was like to have a wife and family. Thanks to the Druids, he would never be able to marry until he found his mate. It would be a cruel twist of fate to finally find his mate only to have to lose her.
He put aside thoughts of revenge and his vows and allowed himself his first free day as he gazed upon Ailsa and Glenna as they explored. Their carefree laughter brought back memories of his childhood playing in the loch.
It wasn’t until his neck began to cramp from not moving that he looked up and found the sun high above him. The morning had sped past and the noon hour was upon them. He dug in the basket and found a banquet. The cook, Tess, had given them one of the first wedges of cheese of spring, fresh loaves of bread and milk that he placed on a plaid that had been packed.
He called to Glenna and Ailsa, and they sat on either side of him. He listened while Ailsa explained their part of the Highlands to Glenna. After several glances, he noted that Glenna wasn’t eating because she was so enraptured at Ailsa’s words. He hid a smile and pushed Glenna’s food to her mouth.
A laugh escaped as Glenna took a small bite of bread and put down the food. It was clear to him then just how much she had missed being kept within MacNeil’s walls. It was odd seeing a child teaching an adult, but that’s what was happening right before his eyes. As he listened to Ailsa’s descriptions of the loch in winter, the falcons that soared above them and the taste of fresh snow, he realized he had come to take things for granted.
Ailsa was oblivious at just how much her words meant to Glenna, he noticed. She went about eating while she talked. “Just there,” Ailsa pointed over her left shoulder, “is my favorite pine.”
“You have a favorite tree?” Glenna asked, eyes wide with amazement.
“Aye. I come here nearly every day to visit him.” Ailsa then pointed to a spot of earth. “Very soon a clump of wild hyacinth will sprout. If you look close you can see the leaves just coming up.”
Conall learned so much about his daughter and Glenna, and he had said not two words the entire time. Every once in a while Ailsa would raise her eyes and smile at him, as if making sure he was still there.
Glenna was hungry for information and Ailsa was a willing teacher, but he knew the time drew near for them to head back. He packed the rest of the food and watched as they squatted together while looking at the hyacinth Ailsa had pointed out.
He raised his face to the sun. The afternoon had flown by. He hated having to tell them it was time to leave and spoil their fun. “It’s time we head back,” he called.
Ailsa frowned. Glenna stood, and said, “Go on then. We’ll be up later.”
He almost laughed. No one told him nay, much less his prisoner. He understood why she didn’t want to return, but the point was he had given an order. “We’ll all return together.”
Glenna bit her tongue when she realized she had spoken so harshly, and by the hardness of his eyes she knew she had spoken wrong. She decided to try another tactic.
“You said yourself we were safe here.”
“I know what I said, Glenna. You’ll be returning with me,” he said, and turned to walk up the steep path to the castle.
And for the first time in her life she acted like a petulant child and stomped her foot. Ailsa gasped and ran after Conall. Glenna raised her eyes and found the hem of Conall’s kilt smoking as flames shot up.
“Conall,” she called as Ailsa reached him and began slapping at bottom of his kilt.
He turned and, seeing the flames, quickly jumped into the loch. When he rose from the water, Glenna knew real fear. His steely eyes roamed the area around them.
“How did my plaid catch fire?” he asked her.
She shrugged her shoulders and marched up the hill to the castle. The last thing she wanted was to explain to him how things seemed to catch on fire when she got angry. Nay, better to leave that out for now and control her temper so it didn’t happen again.
They had just entered the bailey when a guard yelled, “Rider approaching.”
Glenna jerked her eyes to Conall. Trepidation pooled in her belly and grew like an unwanted weed. Her mind screamed nay, for she knew it was a MacNeil who approached.
It’s too soon. I don’t have my answers.
But now everything had come crashing down around her. She placed Ailsa in Angus’ arms and caught up with Conall before he reached the steps leading to the battlements. “Did you expect them so soon?”
“Aye. I anticipated them yesterday.”
His flat tone and hard eyes told her much. This was the man that went into battle. It sent a shiver down her body and almost made her miss a step as she climbed the stairs. An image of his sword raised against the MacNeil flashed in her mind. She stopped and closed her eyes in hopes of seeing more, but the vision faded. Her eyes opened to find Conall had already reached the top. She raced after him and came to stand by his side.
A low growl sounded from his throat. “He sent only one man. I’d have thought he’d be here with his army.”
“You’ll yet have your chance to fight him, laird,” she said as she looked down from the battlements at a young lad she had seen once or twice at the MacNeil holding.
She ventured a glance at Conall and found his eyes boring into her. “How do you know that?” he asked.
“I just do.” She shrugged while trying to find the words. “I can’t explain it other than to say I saw it while we walked the stairs.”
“Glenna,” he began then stopped and struggled with something he
wanted to say.
He turned back to the MacNeil waiting below.
“I’ve a message for the MacInnes’ laird,” the lad called.
“I’m laird of the MacInnes,” Conall answered. “What message do you bring?”
“Laird MacNeil has requested you return Glenna immediately, and he’ll let you and your clan live. If you don’t, you’ll be responsible for your clan’s devastation.”
She watched as Conall gripped the stone so hard his hands turned white. “As you can see, Glenna is here and well. I’ll return her as soon as the MacNeil returns my sister Iona.”
That surprised the rider for he was at a loss for words. “I’ll give your message to the MacNeil,” he finally said, and wheeled his horse around.
Glenna watched until the rider disappeared from view. When she turned back to Conall, she knew he wanted to ask what she knew of Iona, and she prayed for some reprieve. She wasn’t yet ready to divulge everything to him.
“There’s one question I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he said.
She swallowed hard and bit her tongue to stop herself from begging him not to ask. A shout from a guard drew his attention. His handsome face turned red with ire. “By the saints. She wouldn’t,” Conall hissed, and pushed pasted her.
She watched while he flew down the steps and confronted a woman with long flowing blonde hair. She was stunningly beautiful, even from a great distance. Jealousy sharp and true sliced through her.
It had never occurred to her to ask if Conall was married. No woman had come forward when she had arrived and none had sat with them while they supped. But seeing the enchanting creature arguing with him, made her realize he had asked the woman to stay away while she was here. She sighed deeply and felt something take her hand.
Ailsa. The child had an uncanny knack for knowing when she needed comfort.
“The laird doesn’t like her,” Ailsa said.
“She’s beautiful.”
“Aye. We rarely see them anymore.”
“Any of who?”
Ailsa didn’t answer but pointed instead. Glenna looked up and found Conall and the woman staring at her before he pointed for the woman to leave.
