Another step forward sent the blood rushing from Davina’s head and she suffered an all-consuming wave of light-headedness. She closed her eyes, struggling for calm. It did not come.
Instead, a numbness trickled down into her limbs and a loud buzzing sounded in her ears. From a great distance she heard young Lileas’s cry of alarm and then suddenly, blissfully, all went dark as Davina fell over into a dead faint.
Chapter Seven
James watched Davina topple from her chair. He instinctively moved forward, but was too far away to afford much assistance. Not that it was needed. His brother, Malcolm, caught her easily in his arms and held her protectively against his chest.
The child seated beside Malcolm—a young lass—started shrieking, her worry for Davina obvious. Momentarily taken aback by all he was witnessing, James swallowed hard, concealing his puzzled anger.
What in the name of all that was holy was going on? Why was Davina at McKenna Castle and why was his brother acting so proprietary toward her? James had seen the smiling banter between them when he first entered the great hall; had noticed the affectionate way his brother took Davina’s hand and raised it to his lips.
Where was his brother’s wife, Margaret Douglas? And why the hell had no one taken that screeching brat away? Were they waiting until everyone turned deaf?
’Twas hardly the homecoming that James had anticipated. If the past few minutes were any indication of what was to come, he needed to turn around, get on his horse, and ride for the hills.
“Lord, what a commotion! Be quiet, Lileas!” His mother held tightly to his arm, steering him away from the drama and bringing him forward until he was standing in front of his father.
It took a moment before he realized he no longer had to lift his neck to meet his father’s eye—they were the same height. With interest, James took note of the streaks of gray at the McKenna’s temples, and the lines that had deepened on his face. His father had aged, yet he still carried himself with the proud strength of a noble warrior.
“Christ’s bones, son, away five years with barely a word and when ye entered the hall, all hell breaks loose.”
“Aye,’tis good to see that nothing has changed while I’ve been away, Father.”
The McKenna’s eyes narrowed. Then he slapped James on the shoulder and pulled him into a bear hug. James was momentarily speechless. Growing up he had never doubted his father’s love—but open signs of affection had ended when the McKenna sons had reached manhood.
James quickly recovered his wits, then found himself returning the embrace. He felt his body seize with emotion as he held his father close. When times were darkest and dangerous battles raged he had often wondered if he would ever see Scotland—and his family—again. And now, through God’s mercy, he was here. ’Twas a victory to savor.
Before he pulled away, his father whispered in James’s ear. “I’m very happy ye’ve finally come home, son, make no mistake. But ye’ve caused yer mother endless nights of worry and grief, and fer that ye’ll answer to me.”
Ah, now that was more like what he had expected. James stiffened, but nodded in agreement. He had been inconsiderate of his family, especially his mother. Of course he needed to be held accountable.
“Little brother! At last ye’ve returned.”
James turned away from his father to face his brother. Malcolm had put Davina back on her feet. She stood behind him, clutching the table with one hand, her arm around the lass, who thankfully was finally quiet.
“Malcolm.” James nodded.
Something flickered in Malcolm’s eyes before a welcoming smile dropped into place. James immediately went on guard, wondering what his brother was trying to conceal.
Gilroy, the captain of the McKenna guard, appeared, a large grin on his face. His shout of welcome home was followed by a loud cheer from the guard. His mother’s maid came forward next, followed by his former nursemaid. With tears in their eyes, each hugged him.
All seemed genuinely happy to see him, though his nursemaid took the opportunity to scold him for being away for so long. He suffered through it all good-naturedly, but then, heaving out a breath of annoyance, James turned to face the greeting he had been avoiding.
He could not erase from his mind the sight of Davina’s pale face when she recognized him, her startled look of pure torture. It cut him sharper than a blade. Despite all his efforts to control it, his heart lurched when he looked over Malcolm’s shoulder and for a second time met Davina’s stunned gaze.
He narrowed his eyes sharply, then briefly wondered if she’d faint again.
“Davina Armstrong. ’Tis a most unusual surprise to find ye here.”
“Not an unpleasant one, I hope,” she replied softly, staring at him with luminous brown eyes.
He shrugged, though secretly he felt annoyed by her remark. This was his home, his family. He had traveled a world away to forget this woman, yet here she stood.
How was that possible?
“Yer mother invited me for the holiday,” Davina continued, as though she could read the question uppermost in his mind.
Her perception startled him with the memory of how close they had once been. Close enough to at times even know what the other was thinking. But that was a very long time ago.
Damnation, I need a drink!
She had taught him well that love led to pure misery. Not always, a voice in his head nagged. It had been glorious in the beginning.
Tearing himself away from her hypnotic eyes, he looked down at her long, elegant fingers clutching her wine goblet. He remembered with agonizing clarity the feel of those fingers in his hair, caressing his cheek, entwined in his hand.
He failed to contain the sigh of appreciation that escaped his lips. The urge to claim her still ran strong. Almost as strong as the wild desire he felt to caress her until her brown eyes filled with pleasure and need.
He felt himself moving forward, reaching for her hand, and snapped back. A warning to resist any sentimental weakness stirred within him. She had rejected him utterly, completely, and finally. He was not about to give her the chance to do it again.
A heartless lass is easy to resist. Yet even as he thought the words, James knew he was being unfair. Davina had not always been heartless. She had been pure and open and loving. ’Twas his fault she had turned cold, for he failed to protect her.
“I’m Lileas McKenna,” the child at her side said. “Who are ye?”
“This is yer uncle James,” Malcolm answered.
The lass tilted her head to one side and considered him solemnly. “The one that grandmother lights candles fer in chapel and prays will come home?”
“Aye, and my prayers have at long last been answered,” his mother replied. She appeared again at his side, clutching James’s arm tightly, as though she feared he would disappear. Guilt speared him for the worry he had caused her.
Aileen pulled her son onto the dais. Everyone shifted chairs to make room for him and somehow James ended up sitting between his mother and Davina.
He felt Davina stiffen, then she became fascinated by the contents of her trencher, looking through the various bits as though she had never before seen food.
“Where are Katherine and Graham?” James asked, hoping a glimpse of his other siblings would distract him from the emotions he was feeling being so near Davina.
“Graham is training with clan Morgan. He’ll be with them until spring. Katherine has made a pilgrimage to the Shrine of the Blessed Mother in Inverness,” his mother replied. “She’ll be returning in a week or so to celebrate Christmas.”
“And Margaret?” he asked, wondering about Malcolm’s wife.
The smile on his mother’s face melted away. “Gone, a year this past summer. ’Twas a powerful fever that took her from us.”
James’s brows drew tightly together. “I’m sorry fer yer loss, Malcolm.”
His brother looked momentarily regretful, but then his gaze suddenly shifted to Davina. “It was a sad blow, b
ut it’s been hardest on my poor Lileas, growing up without a mother. ’Tis a lack I hope to rectify soon.”
James speared a large chunk of venison and shoved it in his mouth to avoid saying something he’d regret. He glanced over at Davina and saw the hint of discomfort, along with a dash of confusion on her face.
“It has been a rather long day.” Davina abruptly stood. “If ye will excuse me, I should like to retire.”
His mother nodded and Davina turned. Somehow the hem of her gown became tangled and she stumbled. James reached for her, but Malcolm was there first. He gave James a quelling look and placed his arm protectively around Davina’s shoulders.
She allowed it, but only until she found her footing. She lowered herself to a graceful curtsy, then scurried away as though she were being chased by demons. James refused to watch her retreat, refused to be concerned over how her shoulders dropped and her eyes clouded with emotion.
The table became eerily quiet once she was gone. Odd, how Davina seemed to take the very air with her. Craving a distraction, James signaled for more wine. As he raised the goblet to his lips, he felt the heavy weight of a measured stare. Snapping his neck around, he met the excited eyes of his niece. She had moved to sit in Davina’s seat and was now openly gawking at him.
“Shouldn’t ye also be going off to bed?” he growled.
The lass shrunk back at his gruff tone, but quickly recovered, lifting her shoulders and puffing out her small chest. “I’m not sleepy,” she replied forcefully. “Why do ye have two dirks in yer belt? Papa and Grandpapa and Gilroy only have one. Do ye really need to have two? And why are ye dressed all in black? Nurse says black is the devil’s color. Are ye the devil?”
James lifted his goblet higher, hiding his smile. Seeing his amusement would only encourage her and the child was already too bold by half. “If ye keep asking me rude questions, ye might be very sorry to hear the answers.”
Lileas’s mouth turned down in thoughtful silence. ’Twas far too cryptic a response for a young child to understand, but achieved the desired effect of silencing her.
But the quiet didn’t last. She tugged insistently on his sleeve and then in a cheerful voice announced, “Lady Davina is the most beautiful lady I ever saw. I like her smile. She’s going to be my new mama.”
James choked on his wine.
“Goodness, are ye still spouting that bit of nonsense?” the McKenna shouted.
“Aye, when my Lileas gets something into her pretty little head, there’s no getting it out,” Malcolm replied fondly.
Reaching over, his brother began to tickle the lass and she shrieked with laughter. “Ye promised me, Papa,” Lileas huffed, between giggles. “I want a mama.”
“And ye shall have one, Poppet,” Malcolm answered, swinging the child up in his arms. “But fer now,’tis off to bed with ye.”
Malcolm brought the lass to his mother and father, and they each kissed her fondly on the forehead. James could sense his brother pausing beside his chair, but he refused to look up until he heard Malcolm turn away.
He watched his brother’s retreating back. Lileas’s arms were wrapped tightly around her father’s neck, her chin resting on his shoulder as she stared out at the dais.
James unintentionally caught her eye. Her face scrunched together and then she stuck her tongue out at him. He nearly mimicked the gesture before catching himself.
“Gracious, that child is a handful,” his mother remarked cheerfully. “Perhaps it would be a good idea fer Malcolm to remarry.”
“Aye,’tis time fer him to seriously consider it,” his father added. “I need grandsons to carry on the McKenna legacy.”
There was a murmur of agreement from those near enough to hear the laird’s remarks. James refilled his goblet and took a long drink. God help me. ’Tis going to be a very long evening.
Emotions scattered, Davina somehow managed to negotiate the dimly lit hallways and find her chamber. Thankfully, someone had left a candle burning, though the chamber was filled with dark shadows. Heart racing, nerves drawn tight as a bow string, she scurried to her small trunk and started pawing through it, crying out in relief when her fingers closed around the medicine bottle.
Her fingers shook, clumsy with nerves, as she struggled to remove the cork. So intent was her concentration, she didn’t hear the chamber door open.
“Gracious, milady, whatever are ye doing?”
Davina bit back her startled scream and slowly got to her feet. “Help me, please,” she implored, holding out the bottle.
Colleen shrank away, her face twisted with disapproval. “That’s not the answer. In truth, I believe it makes things far worse.”
“What?”
“Ye heard me. Forgive me fer speaking so boldly, but it needs to be said. That medicine is nothing but a crutch and one that has imprisoned ye. Just as yer aunt and uncle have done all these years.”
An indignant shiver raced up Davina’s spine. “They love me!”
“Aye, they do. But their coddling has not helped ye. It’s made ye a prisoner in both yer mind and body.”
“No longer! I’m here, away from Armstrong Castle.”
“That ye are, and I cannae be prouder of how far ye have come in conquering yer demons. But rendering yerself senseless with that medicine willnae aid ye in regaining yer strength and independence.”
Davina pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying it back and forth as a niggling thought played over and over in her mind. Colleen had voiced one of Davina’s greatest worries. She knew the benefits of the medicine had long since faded—’twas the very reason she had resisted using it for the past year.
“Take it,” Davina said impulsively.
Colleen’s eyes widened and Davina faltered. Yet before she could change her mind, Colleen snatched the bottle away. “What shall I do with it?”
Davina took several deep breaths until she felt calmer. “Empty the contents in the privy.”
Colleen’s wide smile of approval eased the bolt of panic Davina felt as the widow hurried to follow the instructions. Needing a distraction, Davina began to prepare for bed. With all the excitement of James’s unexpected arrival, she doubted the servants—or Lady Aileen—would remember that she had been promised a bath.
No matter. Davina would manage. She poured water from the pitcher into a basin and washed her face and hands, not minding that it was cold.
She removed her veil and circlet and started unbraiding her hair. Colleen returned just as she finished, and the widow helped her change out of her gown and into her nightclothes.
Davina folded her hands, ready to begin her nightly prayers, but her mind froze. What could she ask of God? Relieve her of this nightmare situation? Return her to a time when the love she shared with James was young and innocent?
Knowing the impossibility of those wishes, Davina recited her usual litany of prayers and ended by asking God to bless all the McKennas and Armstrongs. She then climbed into the narrow bed and hastily pulled the furs and blankets up to her chin.
The straw mattress was firm beneath her back, but it felt luxurious after spending so many nights sleeping on the hard ground.
“Do ye have enough warm covers?” Davina asked, as Colleen settled herself on the pallet near the wall.
“Aye,’tis a welcome feeling of warmth to snuggle beneath them. And ye?”
“I’m fine. Good night, Colleen. And thank ye fer all that ye have done.”
The widow muttered a soft reply. Colleen’s gentle snores soon filled the chamber. ’Twas a comfort knowing she was not alone, but the noise was distracting, making it even harder to sleep.
Davina took several deep, long breaths, shut her eyes tight, and commanded herself to sleep. But her mind refused to quiet, playing over and over the sight of James walking into the great hall.
Muttering with frustration, Davina threw off the covers and rose from the bed. The chamber felt closed and airless. She paced its confines slowly, carefully, mindful of the
sleeping Colleen. Yet it didn’t help. Pale moonlight spilled from the very narrow window, drawing her toward the fresh air, but there was little breeze blowing.
Turning back to her bed, Davina yanked off a wool blanket and draped it over her shoulders. Her chamber was at the end of the short corridor. She had noticed an archway just beyond it and assumed the staircase led to the battlements—where she would find the much-needed fresh air.
Moving quietly, she left the chamber and located the staircase. Holding the blanket around her shoulders with one hand, she placed the other on the rope banister to guide her up the narrow, slippery stairs. Knowing there would be guards posted on the wall, she did not venture onto it, but instead stayed on the top step.
The cold breeze hit her full force and Davina welcomed its bracing crispness. She could feel the moisture hanging in the air and idly wondered if it would be rain or snow that fell. She tipped her head to the sky and breathed deeply, clearing her head and focusing on the best way to handle her current predicament.
She would have to leave, of course. ’Twould be impossible to stay beneath the same roof as James, as well as unfair to both of them. However, explaining her decision to Lady Aileen would prove difficult, as she could not tell that good woman why she must go without revealing her past relationship with James.
It was obvious that he had never spoken of it with his family, and while it pained her, Davina knew she had to respect that decision. Which left her with few logical reasons for a hasty departure.
’Tis a problem to ponder with a clear head, not with wits dulled from emotion and lack of sleep.
Davina took one final breath of cold air into her lungs, then carefully turned and negotiated her way down the staircase. When she reached the bottom she paused, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness.
A bolt of unease swept over her at the unexpected sound of footsteps approaching. She narrowed her gaze, peering ahead, her heart dropping into her stomach at the sight of a man. He took a step toward her and Davina felt her heart thudding into her throat.
The Highlander Who Loved Me Page 9
