A Chieftain's Wife

by Leigh Ann Edwards

  Do not turn away from each other. Allow Killian to help you to heal and you him. Allow him to make you feel alive, for you are alive, Alainn. As much as you surely feel as though you are not, or perhaps at times wish you were not... you are alive.

  Seek solace in each another, seek comfort in each another, and, one day, Alainn, you will again find joy in each other and in your undying love.

  Always Your Loving Aunt,

  Siobhan

  Alainn had stopped reading so very many times for she felt on the verge of allowing her aunt’s kind words and obvious deep understanding to penetrate her shield. Although a part of her was appreciative of her aunt’s candor and honored that she would share her darkest moments with Alainn, she felt she simply would not, could not, allow herself to feel emotion, not yet. She would not permit herself to weep no matter how empty or maudlin she felt at this moment.

  When she came to the passage in the letter advising her to lean on Killian for them to grieve together, she felt her heart breaking again, for Killian appeared to no longer desire being close to her and she wasn’t certain what was broken between them could ever truly be mended. She had finally placed the letter back within the drawer and simply sighed deeply once more.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Later that day, the evening of the feast of Samhain, Alainn was startled to see Killian come to their bedchamber. He usually made it a point to come to her when others were present, so their conversations would be trivialities or limited to topics regarding her well-being. This night, he came alone. He held one lone blue flower in his hand, and he awkwardly passed it to her. She stood and questioned him with her eyes.

  “I know ’tis the date of your birth this day, Alainn. As I walked past your herb garden this afternoon, I spotted this one persistent wee flower growing amongst the rocks. Though it would appear to be delicate and fragile, and although it was well covered in frost, still it grew.”

  Alainn felt certain he was drawing a comparison to her present precarious state and to the flower. She swallowed hard and lowered her eyes.

  “I recalled how you favor the color blue, and thought it fitting you have it this day, on your celebratory day.”

  She took it from him, and tried to ignore the warmth of his hand against hers as they touched for the first time in weeks. She attempted an unconvincing smile as she absent-mindedly placed the flower to her nose.

  “I am much grateful for your thoughtfulness, Killian.”

  She remained standing and when he glanced at her she saw the regret in his eyes at her continued morose state.

  “Have you considered going to your grandfather’s celebration? I was well pleased you agreed to see him this day. I know it meant much to him, and I believe he would take added delight in your attendance.”

  She knew he watched her reaction closely to determine if she showed any sign of interest or longing to attend.

  “Are you askin’ me if I desire to attend, or if I might attend in your company?”

  He seemed uncertain how to reply. He spoke slowly, tentatively testing her response.

  “I had thought perhaps you would like Danhoul to accompany you for he is of druid origin and sure he has previous knowledge of the druid ways and celebrations.”

  She cast her eyes to the floor once more as she spoke. “I have no desire to attend the celebration with Danhoul.” She sighed.

  “And would you go with me?” His voice was uncommonly quiet and contained an unusual nervousness as he posed the question.

  She allowed her gaze to meet his and she saw a sadness within them that surely mirrored and reflected her own sorrow. “I fear I remain unable to face others, Killian, but I appreciate your offer more than you could know.”

  She attempted another smile for his benefit. He cleared his throat awkwardly, and she apprehensively turned her eyes from his stare.

  “I thought maybe it might do the both of us good to leave this castle for a time, most especially on this your special day.”

  She once more allowed herself to gaze upon him and remained standing not far from where he now stood.

  “I am not certain who will be in attendance or what people lay claim to druidism for not everyone admits the association to the old ways. Many keep that information secretive for often those who practice openly are chastised by the priests!” He nervously spoke on trying to make conversation.

  She nodded and smiled once more. He inhaled deeply and she stared back at him. It was evident they both despised how uneasy they felt in each other’s company and how awkward it had become to be alone together. After another moment of silence passed, Killian cleared his throat once more.

  “Aye, well, I’ll be down in the study, should you decide differently.” He finally spoke.

  She nodded and part of her wanted to tell him she’d already reconsidered and that he was correct, they should get away. She believed spending time together was necessary if ever they were to begin to mend all that had been broken between them. But she’d be forced to be near the churchyard and, though she looked out upon the place daily, she thought she could not bear to pass by their baby’s grave.

  He must have sensed her unwillingness or noticed the ever-present pain within her pale blue eyes. He turned and began to walk toward the door. She wanted to run after him and tell him she needed him, that if ever she was to feel whole and well again, she would need him to hold her and to love her but, most of all, she would need him to forgive her. But, instead, she kept silent and when he closed the door she felt a sensation of overpowering panic within her for now she knew she wanted to weep in earnest... she needed to weep.

  She’d sensed the icy frozen wall around her heart truly threatening to melt, and that frightened her beyond belief. But how long would Killian be willing to wait? Clearly, his invitation this night was his way of attempting to make some peace between them, to begin to close the enormous chasm that separated them.

  She sat down upon the bed and stared around the bedchamber, she dared to glance toward the adjoining chamber where their wee son should now rest in the cradle, and she quickly turned away. She looked at the hearth and vividly recalled the night she and Killian lovingly danced together so happy and content and hopeful of what the future held. She couldn’t allow herself to remember those fond memories of what once was, of how happy they had once been.

  She felt a warm presence fill the room, but could see no one there. She was soon overcome once more with the distinct memory of the night she and Killian danced together. She heard his deep sensual voice, felt his lips upon her own. It was such a clear memory it was as though it was happening once more. She felt him take her in his arms, carry her to their bed. She could sense their great love, their undying passion and their blissfulness that should have spanned a lifetime. She caught a sob in her throat and was immediately infuriated for she was reasonably certain it was a magical spirit who had forced her to once more dwell upon the cherished memory.

  “Shylie O’Rorke, show yourself this instant, for I would like to have a word with you, I would. I do not welcome nor desire your constant meddling.”

  She was taken aback when a spirit appeared, but it was not Shylie. It was the spirit woman from the tower near her grandfather’s land.

  “You are displeased, young Alainn. I see that clear enough. But you cannot turn from your memories; you should not turn from the memories, most especially those that fill your heart with joy.”

  “I know you are the spirit woman from the tower, but who are you and how is it you know me?”

  “My name is Deirdra. As for as how I know you, well, I’ll simply say spirits are aware of much, they are privy to a wealth of information regarding the living, most especially if they were capable of magic during life.”

  “So that is the only connection I share with you; we both possess magical abilities?”

  “Aye, ’tis part of our connection and all you need know at the moment.”

  There was something undeniably familiar ab
out the woman and Alainn strained to discover why she was so drawn to her, to learn if she had seen her somewhere other than the once in the tower window. She determined the woman would surely have met with death when she had not yet measured three decades upon this earth. As Alainn stared intently at the spirit, Alainn decided it was something about her blue-gray eyes that made her feel as though she knew her, or should remember her.

  The spirit apparently did not desire for Alainn to learn anything further in regards to her for she soon capably presented Alainn with another memory that pulled at her heart. It was the dolmen back at Castle O’Brien. It was she and Killian together, intimately entwined the first time they passionately made love.

  Alainn turned away and closed her eyes tightly. “Those memories are of a most private, intimate nature, for Killian and me alone. Do you possess perverse, unnatural depraved traits, in desiring to watch such personal happenings?” Alainn rebuked the other spirit, displeased that she was allowing herself to feel such deep emotion.

  “There needn’t be physical intimacy in the memories I reveal, if it disturbs you so.”

  She then capably showed Alainn the memory of her first meeting with Killian, when they were only children. She watched and fondly remembered the encounter when she had magically healed him, when they had first begun their friendship and once more was forced to turn away.

  “You and your husband share a rare love, Alainn. You are bound... eternally bound, not only by your love and your marriage, you are bound by something much stronger, by fate, by destiny, by the gods, who can say. But you must not turn from that great love. Our time upon this earth is short, young Alainn. Do not fritter away the little time that may be allowed to you!”

  Alainn felt her heart ache and her tears so near to the surface. “I wish for you to leave now,” Alainn whispered.

  “I’ve not yet entirely accomplished what I’ve come here to do.”

  “Would you have me send you away?” Alainn threatened.

  “Ah, so you intend to employ your magic again then, do you? ’Tis most certainly time.”

  Alainn lifted her chin determinedly and felt her hands trembling and tingling with the need to create magic. Her powers surged within her. It was Samhain. She was filled with more powerful and undeniable magic than any other time.

  The two women’s eyes met and the spirit issued an unspoken challenge as she once more created a tender memory for Alainn to view. This time it was of Killian presenting Alainn with the turquoise combs so many months ago, and then the memory was soon replaced with the most recent memory of him handing her the blue flower this very night.

  With each memory, she felt her shield failing, her iciness thawing, her fears soaring at what emotions lay trapped within her purposely hardened heart. She glanced once more toward the chamber she had so lovingly prepared for her child, at the bed where she and Killian had so often shared such great passion.

  She wanted to lash out at the spirit woman for causing her to remember, for forcing her to feel emotion again. She turned in a fury, in time to see the woman’s eyes knowingly meet her own with an understanding smile as she disappeared in a hazy mist.

  Alainn inhaled deeply and tried to calm herself. She felt perilously unsettled. She paced the chamber like a caged animal, and then sat upon the settee and looked out into the night where her eyes immediately fell upon the graveyard. She gasped aloud, for now her emotions were raw and far too close to the surface, too many and too strong to be suppressed any longer.

  Alainn no longer desired to be here alone in this chamber, with the memories now so fresh and vivid. She needed to be gone from here immediately. But where would she go?

  Perhaps spending time with Killian this night, seeing her grandfather again, attending a celebration would be beneficial, and she couldn’t deny finding a fairy glade during Samhain was a magical happening. It might be a necessary distraction from the deep emotion she was beginning to experience.

  She looked toward the next adjoining chamber, knowing there were many trunks in the room. Somewhere, within one of them, was a white robe once donned by druids during pagan rituals, and now worn during celebratory feasts. She began searching through them and when she found the robe, she took several deep breaths trying to compel herself to finally step outside of these walls.

  She thought of the wisdom in her aunt’s letter, of Shylie’s well-meaning advice, of Deidra pressing her to remember her treasured memories, and of Killian’s eyes as he’d asked her to accompany him this night. For Killian, she would embolden herself and finally leave these chambers. For the deep love they once shared, she would step past this doorway and hopefully one day soon into his arms.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Killian sat at his large, wooden desk, pouring over his ledgers as was how he seemed to fill all his evenings lately. He was beginning to despise the lonely reality his life had become. When he’d summoned the courage to go to Alainn and ask her if they might leave the castle this night, he was uncertain if he felt relief or disappointment when she’d declined. For, if they spent time together, they would surely be made to converse and they’d spoken so little recently, he found it hard to imagine back to a time when they shared an uncommon closeness and an ability to reveal what was in their hearts.

  He heard a sound behind him and turned hoping it might be her. But it was Danhoul. The young man had been acting peculiarly toward him. They’d had no occasion to speak since the night he had pretended to be so angry with him. Every time they attempted it, Ciara seemed to instinctively appear or something prevented them being alone.

  “I must leave the castle for a time this night, Killian.”

  “Aye, well, you’ve been a loyal guard to Alainn, and a valued friend to both of us, and if you need leave, I am certain you have good reason or that you feel she is safe for the time being.”

  The sound of footsteps behind them interrupted their conversation once again.

  “Milord! I was hoping to speak with you, but I’ll not care to be in the company of this man, so if you would be so kind as to alert me when you might be free for audience, I would be greatly obliged.” Ciara declared.

  “I am taking leave now, so I needn’t be a consideration.” Danhoul assured the woman.

  “Will you be returning this night?” Killian questioned.

  “’Tis unlikely, for I have much to attend to, and it is imperative I speak with Niall O’Rorke.”

  “Is it wise to leave my wife unattended for so long?”

  “I suspect you can attend to her yourself for one night, unless you foresee bein’ otherwise occupied this night?” He glared at Ciara as he spoke the words.

  “No, of course, I’ll watch over Alainn then.”

  “I have thoroughly charmed her chambers with a potent protection spell. Although, I suppose, in truth, it would take the powers of half the demons in hell to see her harmed this night, for ’tis not only Samhain and the time when her powers are nearly limitless, but also the anniversary of her birth. Eight and ten years ago this night she came to be and, if she so desired, I expect she could manage nearly anythin’ this night! So, I’d not attempt anything nefarious towards her, Ciara, or you’re sure to be the brunt of her powerful magic!”

  “What harm would I possibly see done to milady?” The woman feigned insult at the suggestion, but both Killian and Danhoul seemed to be aware of the woman’s true nature.

  Danhoul did not answer the untrustworthy woman and headed out, setting the stage set for what he knew well what would transpire soon enough.

  Alainn hesitantly made her way down the back stairwell for she had no desire to meet up with any of the servants and be forced to have them address her formally and feel compelled to inquire to her health. She could barely will herself to go through with going to Killian and telling him she had changed her mind and would like to accept his invitation. She hoped he would remain in agreement to accompany her.

  When she drew nearer to the study, she felt an ominous
sensation that raised her hackles and eerily ran down the full length of her spine. An awareness of darkness filled her so entirely, she looked around the dimly lit corridor nearly expecting to find the demon she had encountered many times lately. She’d felt his presence that day on the battlefield she’d believed if she could have taken the time to look at the faces of each of the English soldiers present, she would have seen him as she’d seen him when he transformed into human form, as she’d seen him in the disturbing dream when she’d first seen Shylie.

  Since then, she’d often felt his presence in the tower room, even when she’d been so numbed to all around her. The night Killian carried her from the tower she thought her soul felt so dark she might well have been incapable of warding off the demon and she might simply have gone with him that night, but she’d seen an unusual soft glow and she was nearly certain she’d seen the spirit woman Deidra encircling her in her light. She appeared to hold back the dark being until Killian’s presence had prevented the demon from reaching her.

  Now that it was Samhain, all portals were open. Alainn had always been under the impression that white magic would prevail during this time, but the dark powers could not be overlooked or underestimated. Her own powers hummed wildly, along with her emotions, and pulsed unusually strongly throughout her entire body as though they needed to be released. She briefly wondered if leaving the castle was a wise consideration. But she remembered Killian’s face, there had been a thread of hope and a glimmer of warmth in his eyes, and she forced herself to dwell upon that and to hold on to that hope.

  She could smell the pungent scent of whiskey. Her senses were always heightened during this time of the year along with her powers. She’d never cared for the taste of whiskey and the smell often left her feeling repulsed. The man whom she’d believed was her father had possessed a deep affliction for drink and she remembered when she was a small child he’d often come home reeking of whiskey. Although the man had never caused her harm or abuse, he had been neglectful and she still harbored a dislike for drink for the man clearly chose to spend his nights with his whiskey while she stayed in the cottage, alone and frightened. And she’d been only three years of age when he had sent her off to live with Morag the healer, so these memories were obviously deeply rooted.