Lachlan was grateful that Ilysa was not one of those lasses who had to talk. Since Connor had a habit of staring out to sea from his windows and the sail on his nephew’s little boat was white, Lachlan rowed until they were well away from the castle.
“Why did ye wait to raise the sail until now?” Ilysa asked, astute as always.
“Why did Connor have guards stationed at your door?” he countered. Lachlan had told that set of guards he would take the night duty for them, and they’d been happy to let him.
“I suppose he did it because of those two men being murdered,” Ilysa said. “But he needn’t worry. I have a bar on my door.”
Did she really not know?
“The guards were not there to protect ye,” Lachlan said, “but to keep ye in.”
* * *
“What?” Ilysa felt as if she had been kicked in the stomach. “Why would Connor do that?”
“You tell me,” Lachlan said. “On our way to harass the MacLeods, Sorely was bragging that he’d caught ye leaving the castle against orders and ran to tell the chieftain. Then I heard from the men on duty last night that Connor left the castle shortly after you did. So I’m guessing he followed ye and didn’t like what he saw.”
Of all the ill luck. The one night Connor followed her was the night she went to the faery glen and spoke with Alastair MacLeod.
Good heavens, does Connor believe I'm a traitor?
She could think of no other reason why he would imprison her. Of course, she understood how suspicious it must have looked, but Connor had known her all of her life. More, they had shared every intimacy, and he said he loved her. He could not truly love her and believe she was capable of turning on him and her clan.
She understood now why Connor could not bear to be in the same room with her today. But why did he not simply ask her what happened? True, he had been busy preparing for the coming battle, but if he had time to order men to guard her door, he had time to put the question to her.
The blood drained from her head as she realized Connor must have followed her all the way back from the faery glen without once attempting to speak to her. He had already condemned her. How could he think so little of her?
She must finally accept in her heart that there was no hope for them.
While the small boat glided through the darkness, the terrible thoughts swirled round and round in her head. She was glad Lachlan could not see her silent tears. She did not know how she would live through this, but she would. When she was only eleven, her brother was sent away and her mother fell apart, leaving Ilysa to take over her mother’s duties and be responsible for them both. She told herself that if she could survive that, she could survive anything.
As soon as they entered his sister’s cottage, Ilysa forgot her own troubles. Lachlan’s sister was weeping with the sick child in her arms while five or six other children looked on with big eyes.
“Beannachd air an taigh,” a blessing on this house, Ilysa said in a low voice.
“This is Ilysa,” Lachlan said when they stood next to his sister. “She is a good healer, Flora. If anyone can save Brigid, she can.”
The child’s lethargy and the sound of her labored breathing rattling in her chest worried Ilysa deeply.
“I can see you’ve been doing just right, washing her with cool cloths,” Ilysa said, attempting to reassure the mother. “Your other children are frightened. I’ll take good care of wee Brigid while ye see to them.”
She exchanged a glance with Lachlan, and he nodded.
“Where is Malcom?” he asked as he helped ease the ill child from his sister’s arms and into Ilysa’s.
“I don’t know,” Flora said while Lachlan led her to where the other children were huddled together. “I’ve been worried sick about him, too.”
“When ye have a moment, Lachlan, I need a pan of hot water,” Ilysa said, keeping her voice calm.
Brigid’s hacking cough was sapping her strength. Ilysa hummed to soothe her as she rubbed a salve over the little girl’s chest to ease her breathing.
“Feels good,” the child whispered.
Ilysa brushed the damp curls back from her face and kissed her forehead. Her fever was high. She was a pretty, curly-headed thing, but so ill that Ilysa anticipated it would be a long night—and the outcome was uncertain.
* * *
“I do love Ilysa, for what little that’s worth,” Connor said after letting Alex rant at him for a while. “Now you’d best sit down, for I have worse to tell ye.”
Connor proceeded to tell him about Ilysa’s secret meeting with the MacLeod chieftain. “There’s no getting around it. Ilysa has betrayed us.”
“By the saints, how could ye believe Ilysa would do anything against you, let alone the clan?” Alex said. “She’s been in love with ye from the day we returned from France.”
“She has?”
“Ach, you’re a fool.” Alex gave him a crooked smile. “But then, most of us are when it comes to love.”
“I don’t know what to do about her,” Connor said, sagging lower in his chair.
“Groveling would be a good start.”
“I meant about her treachery,” Connor said. “How can ye believe she is innocent?”
“I’ll admit that meeting the MacLeod in the faery glen is strange,” Alex said. “But there must be an explanation. What did she say when ye asked her?”
“I didn’t.”
“Tell me I misheard that,” Alex said.
“I was afraid I’d believe anything she told me,” Connor said, holding his head in his hands, “despite the facts.”
“Ye should believe her because Ilysa is incapable of doing anything vile,” Alex said. “When it comes to judging people, sometimes ye have to go with your heart, not your head.”
“That’s what Teàrlag told me,” Connor said, rubbing his forehead.
“Ilysa is too brave for good sense. Don’t forget, she stayed at Dunscaith to spy for us while Hugh held it,” Alex said. “Hell, she probably thought she could talk the MacLeod out of fighting for Trotternish or some such foolishness.”
Connor wanted to believe it. “I’ll go talk to her now.”
Hope, like a wildflower sprouting from a rock, sprang up in his chest as he raced to her bedchamber. When he reached Ilysa’s door, the guards were gone. His heart felt as if it were being torn in two as he pushed the door open and stepped into the empty room.
She was gone.
* * *
Near dawn, Brigid’s breathing finally eased. Ilysa put the child in her mother’s waiting arms and went outside. Lachlan followed her out, and they leaned against the cottage wall watching the sun rise over the water.
“I must return to the castle this morning,” Lachlan said after a time. “Whether I’m still captain of the guard or no, I want to fight the MacLeods with my clan.”
Ilysa had made her own decision during the long hours of caring for the ill child.
“I’m not returning to the castle,” she told him. “Ever.”
“My sister will welcome ye here as long as ye wish to stay.”
“The MacNeil chieftain asked me to be his wife,” Ilysa said, and her voice wavered only a little. “When he arrives at the castle, I want ye to get word to him that he can fetch me here.”
“No need to decide that yet,” Lachlan said. “Do ye want me to tell Connor where ye are?”
“No.”
* * *
Lachlan’s heart was full as he sat next to the cot watching Ilysa’s sleeping face in the morning light. He was so grateful to her for saving his niece. He pushed a strand of red-gold hair away from her cheek. Asleep, she looked deceptively frail.
“She’s a tough one,” Lachlan said to his sister who had come to stand behind him. “For such a tiny lass, she has a lot of courage.”
Flora squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t let this one get away, Lachlan.”
“Her heart is elsewhere,” he said.
“Hearts change,” his sist
er said.
Not Ilysa’s. That was just one of the things he admired about her.
“Once ye put your mind to it, what lass could resist ye?”
He put his hand over his sister’s. “I’d best be off.”
The door to the cottage swung open, and Malcom entered. His face was haggard, and he looked as though he had traveled hard. When Flora embraced him, he eased her aside and looked at Lachlan.
“The MacLeods are coming.”
CHAPTER 40
Connor was torn between fear and jealousy, not knowing if Lachlan had kidnapped Ilysa or if she had she gone willingly.
After he found the two men he had assigned to guard Ilysa sound asleep in the hall and hauled them outside to question them, he had grilled the guards at the gate. They all told him the same story. Lachlan and Ilysa were both held in such regard that they were allowed to walk out of the castle with nary a question, despite Connor’s explicit command.
“I don’t know where she is,” Connor said for the hundredth time as he wore out the floor pacing. Alex had chosen to believe the obviously fabricated story about an ill child and was annoyingly unconcerned.
“Let’s work on a problem we can solve.” Alex stretched out his long legs and yawned. “I believe I can tell ye who your spy is.”
“Do ye claim ye have The Sight now?” Connor asked.
“Ach, ’tis a simple matter once I have the right information,” Alex said with an amused glint in his eye.
“I’m in no mood for games,” Connor said.
“We’re looking for a man, or a woman, who has a grudge against ye or something important to gain by helping Hugh,” Alex continued, undeterred. “Our culprit also must be ruthless enough to murder two innocent men of his clan to serve his purpose.”
Alex was right. There was always a reason people did what they did; it was just a matter of discovering what it was.
A knock on his door interrupted his contemplation of suspects. When Connor opened it, one of the men he had upbraided earlier for letting Lachlan and Ilysa leave was there.
“Thought you’d want to know that Lachlan’s returned.”
* * *
Lachlan was hauled up the stairs and into the chieftain’s private chamber. While Connor clenched his fists and looked ready to murder him, a long, lean, warrior sat with his feet propped up on Connor’s table. The visitor had the look of an ancient Viking except for the amusement in his sea-green eyes.
“What have you and Ilysa done? Betrayed us to the MacLeods or to Hugh?” Connor shouted at him, looking every inch the warrior chieftain. “How could you, a man who has been hailed as a hero of our clan, commit this egregious act? After I trusted ye enough to make ye my captain, this betrayal cuts deep.”
Lachlan felt himself sinking fast in a sea of disaster. Somehow, Connor had discovered his crime. But why did he mention Ilysa, as if she had been an accomplice in the attempted assassination?
“Tell me what I’m accused of,” Lachlan said, instinctively defending himself, though he was guilty as hell. “As for Ilysa, your imagination far exceeds mine if ye can conceive of her betraying the clan.”
“I saw the two of ye talking alone time and again,” Connor said, his eyes flashing. “And now, ye sneak her out of the castle against my orders. You’ve betrayed me.”
Oh, Jesu, was that all? Being caught violating Connor’s order to keep Ilysa in the castle was a slight offense compared with Lachlan’s near-successful attempt to murder the MacDonald chieftain.
“My sister’s child was ill,” Lachlan said. “She would not have lasted the night without Ilysa’s care.”
“An easy claim to make,” Connor said, folding his arms. “Why should I believe ye?”
“I think we can rule him out as Hugh’s spy,” the warrior lounging in the chair put in. “Evidently, he has no need to stab your guards to get them to leave their posts or open the gate for him.”
O shluagh, Connor suspected him of that? “Ye can ask my sister—ye know both her and the child,” Lachlan said. “Ye were at her and Malcom’s home the night the MacLeod warriors attacked. My sister told me ye saved wee Brigid.”
“That’s your sister’s family?” Connor asked. “Is the child all right?”
“Aye, thanks to Ilysa’s healing skills,” Lachlan said.
“Ye brought Ilysa back with ye?” Connor asked and started heading for the door.
“No,” Lachlan said, bringing Connor to an abrupt halt. “She didn’t want ye to know where she is, and she claims she’s never coming back.”
“What else did she say?” Connor asked.
Lachlan hesitated. “She may have mentioned something about marrying another chieftain…”
Connor made a growling sound and started pacing the room.
“See, Ilysa’s safe, and ye can sort this out later,” the tall blond warrior said and stretched his arms as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “’Tis time for fighting, aye?”
Lachlan was more than ready to change the subject. “Malcom crossed the inlet to the other peninsula and saw scores of MacLeod warriors moving south, toward the river,” he told Connor. “Ye were right—if they were attacking the castle, they’d come by sea.”
At the sound of shouts from the courtyard, he and Connor rushed to the windows. Even the visiting warrior was stirred to drop his feet from the table and join them.
“A fleet of war galleys is coming!” one of the men shouted up to Connor. “Our men from Sleat are here!”
Connor strode out of the room. When Lachlan started to follow him, the other warrior stopped him with a steel grip on his arm.
“I’m the chieftain’s cousin Alex,” he said. “Is Ilysa all right?”
“Aye,” Lachlan said.
“Good,” Alex said with a smile that did not reach his cold, green eyes. “Because I’ll skin ye alive if you’ve harmed her.”
* * *
With a mix of relief and anguish, Connor watched the MacIain galleys—all six of them—sail toward the bay behind Ian and Duncan’s boats. MacIain had arrived in time for the battle and met Connor’s condition for the marriage alliance.
“Shame I asked my father-in-law to use his warriors to guard North Uist for me so I could bring more of our own men to this fight,” Alex said as they waited on the shore for the galleys to come in. “If I’d known Ilysa wanted to marry him, I would have brought him along instead.”
Connor ignored the taunt. He understood why Alex was angry—hell, he was angry with himself.
“Hope you’re ready to fight,” he greeted Duncan and Ian after their galleys were pulled onto the shore.
“How is my sister?” Duncan asked.
“She’s away from the castle caring for a sick child,” Connor said. This was not the time to tell Duncan that his sister did not intend to return to the castle—and it would never be a good time to tell him why. Duncan, I took your sister to bed, then condemned her for a traitor and attempted to hold her prisoner. She’s a wee bit upset with me. If Alex was right and Ilysa was innocent, he had committed another great wrong against her.
“Have ye found Ilysa a husband yet?” Alex asked.
“Not yet,” Connor said keeping his voice even. He wanted to strangle Alex for goading him in front of Duncan.
“Ach, you’re slacking in your duty to her,” Alex said. “But I suppose ye have been busy.”
Ian raised an eyebrow and shot a look between him and Alex—and just like that, Connor could tell that Ian had guessed that something had happened between him and Ilysa. It was one thing to know each other so well that they could read each other’s minds on the battlefield; this was quite another. Praise God Duncan had a blind spot when it came to his sister.
“Ach, no, why did MacIain bring a Campbell with him?” Connor asked when he caught sight of the boar-head crest of the Campbell clan on the sail of one of the galleys. Damn it. He had hoped to have the battle with the MacLeods concluded before the Crown’s lieutenant learned of it.
/> “That’s John Campbell in that galley,” Ian said, referring to the Campbell chieftain’s brother, who was also the Thane of Cawdor. “The other galleys are his as well.”
“MacIain is no coming?” Connor asked.
“No,” Ian said. “He’s dead.”
CHAPTER 41
Connor gripped his cup so tightly his knuckles were white as he listened to John Campbell tell how Alexander of Dunivaig had attacked and killed MacIain and MacIain’s two oldest sons, who were his own wife’s father and brothers. Twenty-some years of marriage and six children of shared blood had only masked, not erased, Alexander’s drive for vengeance against his wife’s clan. MacIain had finally been held to account for his treachery that resulted in the execution of three generations of Alexander’s family—his grandfather, father, and brothers.
How could Alexander face his wife after killing her father and brothers? Connor recalled sitting at their table and observing what he thought was genuine affection between Alexander and his wife. Connor felt sorry for the poor woman. His own efforts to create a reliable alliance through marriage seemed futile. While such marriages sometimes succeeded in forging strong allegiances, just as often they ended in blood feuds.
“Can I call upon the friendship between our clans and ask ye to join our battle?” Connor asked John Campbell, though he knew it was pointless.
“That friendship is what will keep us from fighting on the side of the MacLeods,” John said, raising his cup to Connor. “I do hope you’re not too aggrieved that I came to retrieve MacIain’s granddaughter.”
The Campbells had moved with their usual stunning speed to take control of the MacIain’s lands. Before the dead chieftain’s body was in the grave, the Campbells claimed guardianship over his only surviving son, a boy of nine, whose mother was a Campbell. Connor doubted the son would ever gain control over MacIain lands. Similarly, John Campbell had been dispatched to collect Jane, whose marriage would be arranged to better suit Campbell interests.
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